NOISE POP '09f

Noise Pop Film Festival 2009 ? Incarcerated Guitar Cases: Johnny Cash at Folsom Prison at the Roxie

Words by: Ben Richardson

The crowd outside the Roxie Theater was teeming Wednesday night, awaiting the kick-off of the Noise Pop Film Festival and the presentation of Johnny Cash at Folsom Prison, a documentary by director Bestor Cram. A line of graying hipsters, professionals in Converse, and eager Cash fans stretched down 16th street, jostling with confused theater patrons trying to winnow their way into Bloods and Crips, the Roxy’s other movie involving musicians and jail.

Seating was at a premium inside, but everybody was comfortably ensconced by the time the event began in earnest with a short video from last year’s Noise Pop, courtesy of SOMA-based rock-archivists Wolfgang’s Vault. Onscreen, San Diego band Delta Spirit launched into “People C’mon,” a strident anthem that showcased the yowling talents of vocalist Matt Vasquez and whetted the audience’s appetite for the Cash-on-the-mic delicacies that were soon to follow.

Johnny Cash at Folsom Prison, as its title implies, concerns itself with the Man in Black’s hyper-famous 1968 concert. Made into a cultural landmark by the impeccable live recording that issued from it, Cash’s watershed gig is well-worn territory for documentarians and cultural historians, stamped as it is in every half-serious music-lovers brain. Even those who have never heard the album itself are likely to know the story, whether through the efforts of a pre-MC Hobo Joaquin Phoenix, or through countless other avenues.

It is Cram’s task, then, to skirt this two-ton gorilla of familiarity, a task that he carries off with significant aplomb. Together with writer Michael Streissguth, the director picks at the edges of the Folsom concert story, constellating an impressive array of side-narrative and ephemera around the lodestar of the music itself.  Drawing on extensive interviews with two of Cash’s children, his bandmates in the Tennessee Three, and various other supporting characters, the film fleshes out the fascinating details of a well-known but incompletely understood piece of history.

The film is at its most powerful during interviews with Millard Dedmon, a former Folsom inmate who was behind bars at the time of Cash’s seminal performance. In addition to providing an invaluable first-hand account of the concert, Dedmon’s narrative is a heart-rending tale of crime and punishment, atonement and reformation. Sentenced to life without parole, Dedmon endured decades of incarceration, and it is difficult to reconcile the avuncular African-American old-timer that appears on-screen with his rueful tales of late-sixties criminality.

Tragedy is likewise abundant in the little-known story of Glen Sherley, another Folsom inmate. Serving five-to-life for armed robbery, his song “Greystone Chapel” found its way into Cash’s hands the night before the concert. Taken with the plight of the prisoner and the power of his music, Cash and his band learned the tune overnight, performing it as the final song in the set in front of a stunned Sherley, who was seated in the front row. Cash continued to champion Sherley’s career after his eventual release, and the film depicts this obscure chapter in Cash’s life, and its sad conclusion, with captivating verve.

As might be expected, the doc is well-stocked with archival footage and other visual touches. Shots of modern-day Folsom prison proved fascinating, and materials contemporary to the concert provided the necessary context. Less inspired were short animated interpretations of some of the songs Cash performed during the concert. While their was certainly creativity and deft animatory technique on display, distilling the intensely human narratives in Cash’s lyrics into cartoons seemed reductive, and served as an unwelcome interruption to the more interesting information the film had to offer.

The screening was followed by a brief Q+A with legendary rock photographer Jim Marshall, a San Francisco resident. The questions were mostly perfunctory, but did elicit one good anecdote, in which Jim Marshall recounted a conversation he had with Cash: “The lyrics say you shot a man in Reno,” quipped Marshall. “Why are you doing time in California?” “That’s called poetic license,” Cash rejoined. Too right.

Noise Pop Film Festival 2009 ? Romeo Oscar Charlie Kilo: Ashes of American Flags at the Roxie

Words by: Ben Richardson

Double-feature action was a no-go at the Roxie, and by the time people filed back into the theater, it was difficult to glean who had stuck around for both films. Unscientifically, the crowd for Ashes of American Flags–a Wilco concert film by Fugazi drummer Brendan Canty–contained 20% more fleece, and perhaps 10% more North Face, than the crowd that had preceded it.

Another concert clip began the proceedings, this time highlighting better-known folk-rock rabble-rousers The Mountain Goats, and John Darnielle’s impassioned frontmanship set the tone for the enthusiastic performing that was to follow. Though in large part a concert film, Ashes of American Flags is constructed around a kind of “death of the American dream” thesis, as the title might suggest. Canty and his collaborators in Wilco are leery of what they perceive as the Wal-Martization of the country–specifically the way that eroding small-town cultural centers are losing storied, historical concert venues.

To this end, the film is organized around five Wilco performances, each taking place at a venue that exemplifies the country’s endangered history. Cain?s Ballroom in Tulsa, Tipitina?s in New Orleans, the Mobile, Alabama Civic Center, the Ryman Auditorium in Nashville and the 9:30 Club in Washington D.C. are all captured in loving HD, and the folksy, rootsy but also modern music of Wilco serves as a perfect metaphor for the way these venues can be celebrated and preserved, but also reinvigorated.

Fans of Wilco would have been unsurprised by the energetic and engrossing performances captured by Canty, but for the relatively uninitiated like me, the film an was eye-opening introduction to a live band at the pinnacle of its manifold abilities. Canty’s background as a musician no doubt helped him choose what to portray and when, and the shots selected do a masterful job conveying the band’s densely layered and emotive sound. Concert film tropes like the bass-drum-beater-eye-view and the guitar-shred close-up were deployed but reinvented, and the shots of guitarist Nels Cline’s frentic fretboard expeditions captured both the technique on display and the giddy, kinetic quality of his playing.

The appreciative audience applauded the screen after nearly every song, as the various concert fixtures captured Wilco running through some of their best known and best loved tunes. Jeff Tweedy was a consummate wit on the mic, working the crowd with the skill of a stand-up comic, and each filmed audience seemed more rabid than the last, culminating with an audacious bra-chucker in our nation’s capital. Despite experiencing the concerts second-hand, the film’s unimpeachable sound mix made it feel like you were, like, actually there, man, particularly during the cacophony in “Via Chicago.”

Documentary-style footage was interspersed with the live material, advancing the film’s socio-political message and opening a window into the life of a band on the road. Glamour shots of fading Middle America–the bus crossing a dilapidated highway bridge, tired tinsel fluttering in the wind–were a little sentimental, and didn’t have the same impact as the footage of the regal, aging venues. Interviews with the band members were sprightly enough, but failed to uncover anything too notable. Wilco seem to be a band of relatively well-adjusted white dudes who have nice things to say about each other, and that doesn’t really make for edge-of-your-seat cinema.

A few short vignettes did manage to speak to something more sublime. Footage of bandmember Pat Sansone snapping shots of a rusted-out trailer with a Polaroid–”Capturing pieces of a fading America with a fading technology”–spoke eloquently to the film’s titular theme, and some backstage carousing with the frontman’s proud Papa was both cute and funny. Brendan Canty, the director, took questions after the film, cracking jokes and making time at the end to enlighten this poorly-informed DC-native reporter on the 9:30 club’s secret history. Wednesday’s screening was only the second time the film had been shown, so Noise Poppers should consider themselves lucky at having received and early dose of Wilco magic.

Happy Hour @ Bender?s and Stephen Malkmus at Great American Music Hall

If you’re smart, you’ll find yourself down at Bender’s for the Noise Pop Happy Hours.  With $3 West Coast IPAs and specials on Fernet, this is the place to loosen up before the evening’s shows.

Bender’s got a bit of a facelift for the festival thanks to the guys at Knight Visions Production and Design who are providing stage lighting for all the festival happy hours.   They also added some nice ambient lighting to the origami cranes hanging from the ceiling.

On Day 2 of the festival I caught the Aimless Never Miss.  Frontman Jonny Latimer apparently was suffering from a bit of a sore throat, but you’d never have guessed the way they were rocking.   This was a full on rock show.  Amps roaring, cymbals crashing…the whole nine yards.

Favorite moment: when Jonny shifted over to drums and Eric over to guitar,  in the middle of a song no less, and Eric proceeded to shred it on a tapping solo with a slight aftertaste of tremolo, that was quite welcomed.

Then it was off to jump on the 49 and head on over to the Great American Music Hall for the Stephen Malkmus show.

I missed the opener, Goh Nakamura, but ran into a buddy of mine there who said he really dug the show, and he’s a guy I trust, so you should too.  I did, however, make it for the entirety of Peggy Honeywell’s set.

Peggy Honeywell’s sound is soothingly simplistic with a subtle guitar accompanying her beautifully honest voice.  After rocking out at Bender’s, this was a much welcomed retreat with such a stripped down sound.  Apparently Peggy doesn’t play publicly that often, and according to her she spends five months practicing for a gig.  Whatever it is she does to prepare, she should keep doing it because even with all the people talking during her set, she was impeccable.

Lee, manning the soundboard for the show, was the behind-the-scenes maestro who was spot on with the sound.  When you have something as simple as one guitar and one voice, its very easy to screw it up as every miscue is caught.  Lee’s deft hands (and ears) let no such disservice befall the evening’s artists.

Kelley Stoltz followed and kicked things up a notch.  Although he was limited to guitar and voice (although a saxophone made an appearance at one point), he’d never let that impede his energetic set.  His set was more varied in style, bringing in some motown-esque progressions at points.  He established a rapport with the crowd (doesn’t hurt that he’s local) and I loved it when he told us that his next song was based on an out of service train in the city.  He also told us that it was sung over an A7 chord, which, according to Kelley, is the “greatest chord there is.”

The show sold out, but it looked like most of the crowd was holding out until Stephen Malkmus, and then the place got packed.  Between sets, I heard that this was Malkmus’  first solo show in the Bay Area, and that he’s only done this a few times ever.  I count myself amongst the lucky few who witnessed an amazing evening.

I was curious how he was going to strip down Real Emotional Trash, his latest album, to just a solo guitar and a single voice.  That question was answered as soon as he played the first song, “Harness Your Hopes” from his Pavement days.  As the night went on he would masterfully pick and choose from his entire catalogue.

And the crowd absolutely loved it.  It seemed as if everyone there had been following him for years and knew every song by heart.  The ambience was nothing but positive, almost as if Stephen had united to a single cause – great music from a great musician.

This was one of those once in a lifetime shows and I’m sure glad I made it.

Favorite Moments: singing along to “Spit on a Stranger” like a giddy 12 year old and groovin’ to Malkmus’ cover of the O’Jays “Love Train”

Photos: Sleepy Sun, Lumerians, True Widow, Kings Queens @ BotH

Photos by: Agata Kamler

Sleepy Sun

Lumerians

True Widow

Kings & Queens

French Kicks, Broken West, Here Here, The Dont's at the Indie

Words by: Emily Logan
Photos by: Reid Williams

I love San Francisco. But I have a candid confession to make. Sometimes I get really mad at San Francisco audiences. Whether it’s standing stolid before the dancy-est band that’s ever come through town or talking as loud as possible while standing in the very front of the floor, I’ve seen them all. And maybe that’s not characteristic of San Francisco per se, but it’s frustrating.

As the French Kicks played an incredible set at The Independent on Wednesday, the crowd gave them a meager couple of seconds of unenthusiastic clapping after each song, and the worst encore request I’ve ever heard (about a dozen key clappers and yellers, myself included, were about all that kept the lights from coming back on). I felt bad for the band, and it was clear they noticed.

Okay, minor rant over. The pure truth is that all four bands gave it their all to a gradually filled-in house (the show sold out at about 4pm on day of show). The Dont’s were up first, and played to perhaps the most enthusiastic group of the show. But then again, audience interaction is their specialty, with clapping, yelling, and even a few audience percussionists. They showed off a good amount of new material, and featured the addition of a keyboard player, which really filled out the sound nicely and added to the energy. The quirky nature of this band’s lyrics (and the, ahem, mask and cape) don’t distract from the fact that these guys are all top-notch musicians.

Here Here was on next, playing their first local show in about 8 months. My first thought was, this band did have women in it at some point, right? Maybe it’s just me, but without them it feels a bit more boys-will-be-boys, and the lack of strings changes the mood of the music completely. But they kept the energy up, with the lead singer doing his characteristic cowboy hop, and trumpets and accordion taking the place of strings. And a certain heavy metal violinist next to me playing “air violin” was the final element to make this set worthy of infinite smiles.

Broken West from LA was up next. They played a set of straight-forward indie, almost on the verge of alt-country (mainly due to some twangy guitar). Their no-frills style was evident from the get-go, and the set grew as they went along, which kept the audience engaged. The highlight was definitely when the bass player came up to sing lead vocals on a song. Not that the regular singer isn’t good, but this guy had a certain spark, and the audience felt it too.

And finally, after the usual suspension of audience anticipation, the French Kicks took the stage. And no keyboards! Nick Stumpf (lead singer) had mentioned in our interview that they had been experimenting with keyboard-less live shows. This really pares the sound down to the basics, and makes every little guitar, bass and vocal detail stand out. Stumpf, shoeless and unshaven, started on guitar and felt like he was holding in an ocean of energy, which came out during the second song, “Over the World,” during which he put the guitar down. The set was well-choreographed, though most songs were played just slightly slower than the album versions, which may have contributed to the lethargy of the crowd. But the stand-out aspect of a French Kicks performance is the vocal interaction and harmonies. They are even more pronounced live, and sounded clean and sparkly.

The band interaction also made this performance memorable. Stumpf and drummer Aaron Thurston would chatter to each other and shake their percussion at each other, and Stumpf would look over at his younger brother Lawrence (on bass) with affection. And after each of guitarist Josh Wise’s solos, Stumpf would acknowledge his awesomeness with some little banter to the audience. They played both old and new songs throughout the night, and though the encore request was pretty pathetic, the encore was not. The band came out with a strong second wind, and ended graciously.

The Mountain Goats, Papercuts: Last Night at the Swedish

Words by: Ben Van Houten
Photos by: Nicole L. Browner

So it seems impossible to avoid describing last night’s The Mountain Goats show at the Swedish American Hall without rubbing salt in the wounds of anyone who didn’t attend. During and after John Darnielle’s captivating solo acoustic set, the feeling was thick in the air that this was a special performance and we were all lucky to witness it.

05-dance-music.mp3
The Mountain Goats – “Dance Music”

The show was a benefit for the Family Violence Prevention Fund, and John Darnielle acknowledged his own experience growing up amidst domestic violence during the show. He thanked the organization for “doing God’s work” before launching into “Dance Music,” an autobiographical song about his troubled upbringing that felt especially powerful and heartbreaking after his remarks.

Nine songs into the lengthy set, Darnielle curiously mentioned that there was something special about the set list. Listing some previously performed song titles, he revealed that he was playing one song starting with each letter from A-Z in alphabetical order. “I just played ‘Island Garden Song’, so any ideas what’s coming next?” After receiving a disconcerting number of suggestions beginning with L, he gently reminded the audience that the next song would begin with a J and launched into “Jenny,” from All Hail West Texas.

While Darnielle would eventually abandon the A-Z approach–skipping some of the “trash letters”–the conceit allowed him to play a number of songs he admitted that he never plays live, including some very obscure ones. John emphasized that he did not want these songs mentioned outside of the show and I won’t break that trust, but I will say that the many MGs fanatics in attendance were made very, very happy.

Papercuts-Future_Primitive.mp3
Papercuts – “Future Primitive”

Papercuts opened the show with some highly enjoyable folk-rock, with airy vocal harmonies and a dreamy pop touch that filled the Swedish beautifully. The set highlight was the terrific Zombiesesque “Future Primitive” from the band’s upcoming album You Can Have What You Want, which comes out in April on Gnomonsong. I’ve been playing that song a lot lately, and it bodes well for the new release.

Interview: French Kicks' Nick Stumpf

It’s a monumental challenge for a band to just play music because they love it. In an ideal world, they would make the music they want without pressure from record companies and the media, while at the same time benefiting from an organic growth of fans and a constant source of income. But in reality, the “starving musician” archetype pervades the music community, and some bands never emerge from that shadow.

But every now and then, a band manages to escape some of the pains of the business and still maintain a good deal of success. And though they’ve worked for many years and released a few albums in the process, the French Kicks (NY) seem to have struck a balance that is as close to idealistic as it gets. The secret for them appears to be a genuine love of the music they play peppered with a fair amount of coolness toward the business aspects of music. That isn’t to say that they don’t care, but just that the creation and sharing of their music is the foremost priority. And if that’s not ideal, I don’t know what is.

the-french-kicks_swimming_01_abandon.mp3
French Kicks – “Abandon” from Swimming

I was fortunate enough to chat with lead singer/keyboardist/drummer Nick Stumpf (second from right) over the phone from his home in Brooklyn. And during the course of our conversation, it became clearer that the band sees this career as not only the absolute right path for each of them, but also as a true love and privilege.

Their latest project, Covers, is a prime example of the band’s easy-going style. The EP includes covers by the Zombies’ Colin Blunstone, The Ramones, The Shirelles and Lindsey Buckingham. Selling for just $4 on iTunes, this album is purely a treat for current Kicks fans, and a fun spur-of-the-moment project for the band.

“As I’m sure many bands do when they get to band practice, like 70 percent of the time is spent just screwing around and playing Dark Side of the Moon songs,” Stumpf said. “So we just thought maybe it would be fun to record some of this stuff.”

This micro project comes after the release of their latest full-length, Swimming, released in April of last year. In normal French Kicks fashion, the album was created with very little intent behind what the resulting sound would be:

When we go into making a record, we never have a plan of like, ‘let’s have this be the sound. It comes of completely open-ended experiments. And only when we’re done do we figure out what we just did.

When we did Two Thousand [previous album, released in 2006], we were like ‘what the hell did we just do?’ [laughs] This one is the next step. Hopefully we get better at this as we go. We try different ways of writing songs and different ways of putting instruments together and basically just try to keep ourselves entertained and get better at what we’re doing. But that’s really it.

But one difference that stands out about Swimming is the nature of the recording process. Stumpf revealed that the album was recorded almost entirely with first and second takes, which gives it a certain soul and leaves out any instance of feeling overworked:

What we’ve always hoped to do — and I don’t think we ever really got close until this record — was have something that sounded like the recordings that we make on our own before we get to the studio. And this record is sort of what those sound like. There’s something loose about it, and natural and personal at the same time. It just doesn’t sound like work. It’s just an organic, warm thing — which has always been how we make music, but when you get into a studio and the clock is ticking and money is involved, you can tighten up a little.

With a fairly open-ended songwriting and recording process (Stumpf actually plays drums on most of the songs on the record, and the band alternates instruments both live and during recording), they are able to experiment endlessly. And while they like to create songs that have a lot of sounds but don’t sound overloaded, their guitar parts have always taken a more rhythmic role than the traditional rock or pop guitar.

“It’s always been the case that all the instruments are kind of treated like percussion instruments,” Stumpf said. “So everybody’s just playing what are essentially rhythm parts.?

The evolution of the band’s sound has a lot to do with these elements — how they use their instruments, their partnerships with regard to the songwriting process (the band is comprised of Nick Stumpf’s younger brother Lawrence on bass, Aaron Thurston on drums, and Josh Wise on guitar and vocals — all of whom also play other instruments), their rich vocal harmonies and their ability to write whatever music they want to, without hesitation about how it will be received. But what results is a brand of pop music that is now characteristically French Kicks.

the-french-kicks_swimming_05_said-so-what.mp3
French Kicks – “Said So What” from Swimming

—

For years, the French Kicks have released albums that challenged themselves and their listeners, and ridden the music biz see-saw. Stumpf said they were “helped and hurt” by their initial inclusion in a popular category of New York “scene” bands that still pops up.

“I’m sure people checked out our band because of that in some ways,” Stumpf said. “So if they checked it out and liked it, then that’s great. But we were also graded on a lot of stuff, and were in contests that we never wanted to enter. And the inevitable comparisons and all that stuff, which is boring and distracting.”

A good handful of these New York bands seemed to have embraced the inclusion in such a “scene,” at least on the surface, but Stumpf explained that though it wasn’t an intentional move to distance themselves from it, the Kicks’ desire to change their sound prevented them from doing that to an extent:

To reach a very large audience you kind of have to say, ‘This is my story and I’m sticking to it.’ And for better or for worse, we’ve just never done that. We just decided to not decide, basically. I think hopefully that’s what keeps it an interesting thing and that you can listen to a record and there’s a lot of different stuff happening, or you can listen to three records in a row and there’s a whole lot of stuff going on. So hopefully that’s an advantage [pauses] as well as a marketing disadvantage. [laughs]

For some people when they listen to our records, it can sound like a lack of conviction and a certain direction or something. Like, ‘why don’t these guys figure out what they want to do and do it?’ But for us the fun is the opposite — the fun is just to keep trying whatever we feel like.

At the end of our chat, Stumpf mentioned that they would be shooting a video for the song “Abandon” in March (“Typical French Kicks fashion, we’re doing it exactly backwards — at the very end of the cycle of the record” [laughs]), yet another example of their nonchalance in regard to the business. The band also sort of stumbled into their current record label arrangement, after their previous label, Startime Records, was absorbed by Vagrant.

“They were nice dudes and we got along, and we were like, ‘okay, why not?’,” Stumpf said. “I don’t think any of us have really spent any meaningful amount of time thinking about what label we were on. It was more like, ‘let’s make the record, and if somebody wants to put it out, that’s great.’”

In a time when labels are shutting down and losing money, Stumph said the band hasn’t felt the effects of the dwindling economy, but he feels the effects in the air at home.

“New York is a very weird place to be right now,” he said. “You can really feel the sinking of the ship and it’s palpable. But I find it exciting at the same time. Like, this is sort of a fantasy — all the bankers are leaving. It?s just great. [laughs] And soon it’ll be okay again. But generally I think it’s an interesting time — people being forced to get back to things of essence…. You have anything happening on a national level or a global level, it’s actually pretty cool. It’s good for the soul of the world.”

Don’t miss the French Kicks at Noise Pop this Wed., Feb. 25 at The Independent. They will be supported by Broken West (LA), Here Here and The Dont’s. 8pm, $15.

Noise Pop: Wednesday Night Preview!

Noise Pop’s second evening steadies the pace with memorable solo performances at SF’s Music Halls– Stephen Malkmus at the Great American and John Darnielle (Mountain Goats) at the Swedish American  — but there?s plenty of other great pickings.

Sights and Sounds helps contribute to the longwinded philosophical debate of what it truly means to be an artist. Park Life gallery will display the fine art of those we know as musicians, namely Mark Mothersbaugh (Wes Anderson?s go-to composer, and of Devo), Bianca Casady (the Coco, her sister is the Rosie) and our neighborhood pal John Vanderslice, among others.

A notable and local mention would have to go to Sleepy Sun who, just like the comparable Brightblack Morning Light, owe their reverberating piano pieces and overall psychedelic tendencies to forest-living (originally from Santa Cruz). They’re presented by local radio (KUSF) tonight at Bottom of the Hill, along with Lumerians, True Widow (Dallas) and Nevada City’s Kings & Queens.

lord.mp3
Sleepy Sun – “Lord”

One of the underdog records of last year came from French Kicks (NY), playing the Independent tonight with the The Broken West (LA) and fun local acts, Here Here and The Dont’s. One can expect a joyous night of dancing to nonstop drumbeats. Heck, the seemingly improvised, clear-cut pop numbers of Swimming should start the bunny hop on the floor (especially the opener):

the-french-kicks_swimming_01_abandon.mp3
French Kicks – “Abandon”

An out-of-left-field act for Noise Pop this year is Austrailia’s An Horse, the spunk-pop tourmates of Tegan and Sarah as well as Kaki King. This time they’re stopping at Slim’s with an equally happy-go-lucky Matt Costa (LA), Robert Francis (LA) and some locals always expected to steal the show: Two Sheds.