#Dan Rickershauser

[thebowerypresents]

The Jesus Lizard Cut Loose at Brooklyn Steel

The Jesus Lizard – Brooklyn Steel – December 11, 2024

The Jesus Lizard are a band that only resurrects every once in a while, so it’s worth noting that vocalist David Yow looks well these days. He’s got a goatee that gives him an air of distinction. He’s also still got youthful vigor, in a toddler-still-learning-to-walk kind of way. “It’s nice to see your beautiful smiling faces, I want to stick my dick in every mouth I see,” were his first words of the night. One song in and Yow was crowd-surfing deep into the audience. His jacket was off by the second song, his shirt fully unbuttoned by the fourth. 

“I can swim, I can’t swim,” wailed Yow directly into the faces of the audience, really inches from them, as he crowd-surfed again during “Seasick.” For a man who spends about as much time being carried by a crowd as he does onstage, how many times in his career has he been dropped? One would think somewhere between dozens and hundreds of times. A few songs later, quite unexpectedly, the shirt was rebuttoned. “Thank you, New Jersey,” said Yow to some chuckles and groans. 

“Nub” had Yow surfing the stage in a vaguely Hawaiian way, floating quite beautifully over the song’s thudding rhythm, asking a recent amputee how he masturbates. The four-piece firing on all cylinders felt like an all-out assault, just as they do on “Hide & Seek,” the lead track on Rack, their first album in 26 years. The rhythm section’s throwing punches, Duane Denison’s guitar cutting like a knife. 

Yow can sound like both the assailant and the victim, sometimes at the same time. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s a nice guy, I like him just fine / But he’s a mouth breather,” he snarled on “Mouth Breather.” The song takes its refrain from a quote from the late Steve Albini about Slint drummer Britt Walford, delivered by Yow with equal parts bark and bite. Another song ended with him still held up in the middle of the audience. “Well, I’ll just stay here for a while. Could I get a margarita?” But then he changed his mind: “Just let me down and I’ll fucking walk, OK? I’m serious.”

“This is the last song, and we’ll never see you … again,” said Yow before returning for their encore. “I hope you have a wonderful holiday season here in the United States of Fucked Up.” Before a few more songs, "Thank you very much, we'll see you in Boston tomorrow,” repeated Yow a few times, and another lie, as the band returned for a second encore. The night came with many tales of unexpected resurrection, which is something you should ask your doctor about if it lasts longer than four hours. —Dan Rickershauser | @D4nRicks

(The Jesus Lizard play Roadrunner in Boston tonight.)

(The Jesus Lizard play Union Transfer in Philadelphia tomorrow.)

Photos courtesy of Edwina Hay | thisisnotaphotograph.com

@thesearenotphotographs

[thebowerypresents]

King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard Unleash Three-Hour Show on Forest Hills Stadium on Friday Night

King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard – Forest Hills Stadium – August 16, 2024

Prior to the Paris Olympics, if someone had mentioned Australia and Raygun in the same sentence, you’d have been forgiven for assuming it the reference was to a song or album by the madly prolific (and sci-fi adjacent) Australian rock outfit King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard. While that country’s reputation still recovers from the breakdancer who couldn’t dance, those assembled at Forest Hills Stadium on Friday turned their attention to the Australian rock band that can, and does, do it all. Their three-hour set — the first of two weekend appearances at the venue — kicked off with the live debut of the blues-heavy “Field of Vision,” off the recently released Flight b741, the six-piece’s 26th(!) LP.

The group’s music covers a wide array of genres, and their shaggy fans of all ages were as comfortable in tie-dyes as they were in the mosh pits erupting throughout the night, first for a speedy, ear-splitting rendition of “Gamma Knife.” Fitting for the season, those mosh pits were shaped like hurricanes, with bodies increasingly moving faster toward the center, except for the inevitable one or two standing still in the eye of the storm. Friday’s show gave the band as much room as they needed to display all facets of Gizzardom. 

“Mr. Beat,” a sing-along, evolved into a jam that could be played out into infinity. With the sun still shining, the music was firmly on the boogie end of the spectrum with an equally playful rendition of the harmonica-heavy, aptly titled “Boogieman Sam.” But as day turned into night with a red sun setting into Manhattan’s hazy skies, the set turned toward the sextet’s heavier jams of the brown-acid variety. 

First came the stellar four-song string of Gizzy mind-palace classics, “I’m in Your Mind,” “I’m Not in Your Mind,” “Cellophane” and “I'm in Your Mind Fuzz.” “God is real. God is a black hole,” announced someone from the stage as they kicked off the speed-metal “Self-Immolate,” complete with an extended, slow-burning drum solo from the inimitable Michael Cavanagh. The tune itself immolated amongst a barraging backdrop of animated, burning flames. Their songs off 2019’s Infest the Rats’ Nest remain the high-water mark for intensity and rocking the fuck out, and it was a bold and impressive feat to tear through that material at the midpoint of a three-hour set, leaving it with their human drummer still intact. 

“Gila Monster” was another fan favorite, off last year’s sprawlingly titled PetroDragonic Apocalypse; or, Dawn of Eternal Night: An Annihilation of Planet Earth and the Beginning of Merciless Damnation. The fans enthusiastically intoning, “Gila, Gila, Gila” felt powerful enough to summon some kind of monster from somewhere in the city, assisted by vocal effects and chants that could’ve rattled out from the depths of a didgeridoo. 

The band welcomed a fan named Gabby to sing a vocal intro to “Nuclear Fusion” that Ambrose Kenny-Smith dubbed “fucking haunting.” Just as impressive as their never-ending discography, King Gizzard & the Wizard Lizard play wildly different sets each night, an audacious feat on its own but especially so when playing three-hour shows.

Somewhere along the way, Friday’s set reached the all gas, no brakes mark and never let up, finishing with “Rattlesnake” and “K.G.L.W.” Welcome to the city that never sleeps to the world’s most prolific band. —Dan Rickershauser | @D4nRicks

(King Gizzard & the Wizard Lizard play the Stage at Suffolk Downs tonight.)

(King Gizzard & the Wizard Lizard play Thompson’s Point in Portland, Maine, tomorrow.)

(King Gizzard & the Wizard Lizard play the Dell Music Center in Philadelphia on 8/27.)

(King Gizzard & the Wizard Lizard play Brown’s Island in Richmond. Va., on 8/28.)

Photos courtesy of Silvia Saponaro | @Silvia_Saponaro

[thebowerypresents]

Queens of the Stone Age Keep Rock Alive on Saturday Night at Forest Hills Stadium

Queens of the Stone Age – Forest Hills Stadium – August 12, 2023

It was a fitting match for the old tennis grounds of Forest Hills, the Queens of the Stone Age in the heart of Queens. Saturday night brought along its summer best calm-before-the-storm weather, frontman (and rock elder statesman) Josh Homme giving the gathering crowd a queen-like wave, with a new gray beard that comes to a fine point. The greeting followed a welcoming kickoff run-through of the now classic “No One Knows,” the buoyancy of its impish guitar riffs setting the stage for the performance to come. 

It's hard to position Homme’s charisma without pointing out how lacking it is from other rock bands, especially of late. The man is equal parts performer and musician, as apparent as ever on “Smooth Sailing,” Homme channeling the song’s lurching drive and launching an angular guitar solo as if he were wrestling a snake. The stop-and-start drive of “My God Is the Sun” felt like someone driving a car with one foot on the gas and the other on the brake. With wind gusts picking up around the same time, the thick smoke coming from machines was pulled into a tight breeze running across the stage. “Sometimes you love and sometimes you lose, and that’s OK,” said Homme, introducing “Emotion Sickness,” off their latest, In Times New Roman…. The tune put all three guitarists to work with dueling guitar riffs and three-part harmonies. 

The best Queens of Stone Age songs come with heel-turn shifts in momentum. “If I Had a Tail” began pop-flavored before getting sucked into a noise-rock black hole. On “I Sat by the Ocean” Homme pulled out a glass slide, making it sound syrupy. The band’s current iteration is thick with guitar heavy hitters — and put to good use: A breakdown at the end of “The Way You Used to Do” sounded Allman Brothers-eque with guitars doubling up on each other and harmonizing. Homme polled the audience to see which new song, “Made to Parade” or “Time & Place,” they preferred, with the former eking out the win. It featured some of his best soloing of the night, hard to believe it was left to audience democracy on whether it would be played. The slow-burning QOTSA classic “Better Living Through Chemistry” followed, pausing before dropping and plowing through a final path of destruction. Next, the hard-hitting new single “Paper Machete” served as something of a resurrection.

Homme conducted a sensual sing-along for “Make It wit Chu,” having groups of the audience trade off the chorus before blues-riffing the song to a climax. “We’re not doing a fake encore where we make you clap for us, we want to stay out here with you,” he said. Forgoing the traditional encore, Queens of the Stone Age remained for three more: After “Little Sister” and “Go with the Flow,” the frontman offered, “Wait ’til you see what we have for you” as an introduction to “A Song for the Dead.” It brings such a relentless take-no-prisoners momentum, one would think the band would have welcomed a break to catch a sip of water before launching into the finale. One would also hope this song is exactly what dying feels like, with the brain spilling out every feel-good chemical it has as it sends the soul through an all-encompassing tunnel of sound and light. With the stage lights barraging the venue with flashes of white, the track deteriorating into noisy guitar feedback, it was a perfect end to the show. Rock ain’t dead — and even if it’s dying, being near death happens to sound fucking awesome. —Dan Rickershauser | @D4nRicks

Photos courtesy of Silvia Saponaro | @Silvia_Saponaro

[thebowerypresents]

Blonde Redhead Come Home to Close Out Tour for New Album at Brooklyn Steel

Blonde Redhead – Brooklyn Steel – November 10, 2023

For all the painters renowned for their mastery of the use of contrasts, not enough bands get the credit they deserve for the same. Blonde Redhead, as their name almost implies, are wizards of contrasting sounds. Their Brooklyn Steel concert on Friday night kicked off with an immediate juxtaposition, taking to the stage playing through some ethereal guitar loops before jumping headfirst into the jagged angular guitars that begin “Falling Man.” It hit like a hard and sudden rain descending out of a misty fog. “Yet I am just a man still learning how to fall,” sings Amedeo Pace with his strained tenor voice punching through. This is followed by (and in contrast to) “Dr. Strangeluv,” with its lush and expansive landscape of sounds, this time filled out by Kazu Makino’s delicately singing as if she were floating above the song. 

There are only three members in Blonde Redhead, but their sound is so much bigger and their songs have so many layers spilling out of them that repeated listens often reveal something new. When played live, these opportunities to get pulled in are everywhere. For me, this hit the hardest during “SW,” with my ears for the first time noticing the brooding, rattling hum of the guitar that undergirds the song. Come the chorus, the refrains of “It’s not” and “I am” bend guitar strings toward Amedeo’s words like gravity.  

Brazilian (and New York City-based) percussionist Mauro Refosco joined the band for the final night of the tour. He was featured on Blonde Redhead’s recently released 10th LP, Sit Down for Dinner, including the hypnotically mesmerizing “Snowman,” which slowly builds in polyrhythms like, dare I say, a rolling snowball. 

“We’re getting forgetful in old age,” said Amedeo, excusing Makino taking a pause to track down a piece of paper before a song. “It’s not old age, I’ve always been like this,” answered the rhythm guitarist. Another thing Makino’s always been is strikingly beautiful, moving along to their songs like they’re waves washing over her. At times Amedo joined her in dancing, his lanky frame extenuated by his white jumpsuit, with the two of them flanking Simone Pace on drums. This is a band that’s long been in lockstep, for twin brothers Simone and Amedeo Pace, likely since birth. 

Their set closed with the shoegazing masterpiece “23,” which blows through with so much force only to end in some scattered guitar whispers and rhythms, the remnants of a tornado of a song that just blew through. —Dan Rickershauser | @D4nRicks

Photos courtesy of Dana Distortion | distortionpix.com

[thebowerypresents]

MJ Lenderman & the Wind Light a Fire at Sold-Out Music Hall of Williamsburg on Friday Night

MJ Lenderman – Music Hall of Williamsburg – October 25, 2024

“Not to freak anybody out but Shrek is here,” said MJ Lenderman a few songs into his set on Friday night. The vibe was anything but one of alarm, although the sold-out Music Hall of Williamsburg was packed and, admittedly, a little swampy. He’s an artist on the up-and-up and had sold-out shows throughout the weekend because of it, with bigger venues lined up for the spring tour. 

“You once was a baby, and now a jerk,” from the set-opening “Manning Fireworks”; “I’ve got a houseboat docked at the Himbo Dome,” off the searing, country-rock-punching “Wristwatch,” which followed: There’s a lot of communal joy in shouting out some of Lenderman’s best lines, fans brace for them coming, as his loose observational songwriting tightens into a fist. 

Lenderman’s backing band, the Wind, throws out similar punches, able to effortlessly transition from loose guitar plucks to locked-the-fuck-in jamming. “Wristwatch” had them following Lenderman’s quips with all the guitars (bass, slide and electric) pulling into themselves as if dragged into one another by a force of gravity.

The middle of the set came with some more tender moments. Lenderman teed up a new song, “Pianos,” highlighting the excellent Cardinals at the Window (proceeds of which go to organizations doing critical work in communities most impacted by Hurricane Helene). “Pianos” appears on it and is one of the band’s best songs yet. Played live, gentle strumming evolved into a beautiful, heartsick and atmospheric Neil Young–inflected guitar solo that could have gone on forever without anyone complaining. (Fellow star of the night was a young fan toward the front of the crowd, donning a hat that read GUITAR SOLOS that he’d lift during each solo.) 

“She’s Leaving You,” a possible breakup song with less of a heartbroken vibe and more of a “Hey, what can you do?” conviction, followed. MJ Lenderman’s songwriting contains multitudes. “She’s Leaving You” ended with just slide guitarist Xandy Chelmis singing the high harmony alone alongside the thudding bassline.

Some deeper cuts from the Lenderman oeuvre, like “Catholic Priest,” transformed the lo-fi recorded song into an entirely different hi-fi number, a transubstantiation of sorts. It hinted at Catholic references to come later in his discography and in the set, with mentions of seminaries, bibles and knockin’ on heaven’s doors. (Not to preach to the choir here but fans are fortunate that Lenderman didn’t become a priest.) 

“Bark at the Moon” featured a bold amount of the song’s finishing howling feedback, a harsh moment that resolved itself with the delicate “You Don’t Know the Shape I’m In.” “Rudolph” again featured the Wind locked in perfect rhythm. Lenderman wears his influences on his sleeve, or more literally, as was the case on Friday, on his chest, wearing a Drive-By Truckers T-shirt. The band’s encore kicked off with the underrated “Tastes Just Like It Costs,” which begins with a Drive By Truckers-esque opening line if there ever were one: “You know I’m no hard-ass / And you know I couldn’t be less.” 

Legacies loomed large on Friday night, between Phil Lesh’s passing and the Dodgers’ Freddie Freeman hitting a game-winning grand slam and then rushing toward his dad in the stands (Lenderman would welcome a random sports reference). In music, it’s never just one torch being passed but a bunch of tiny flames, and every now and then one of these flames catches a breeze and burns a place down as a young fan holds his GUITAR SOLOS hat aloft. Who’s been fanning these flames as of lately? The answer, my friends, is MJ Lenderman & the Wind. —Dan Rickershauser | @D4nRicks

(MJ Lenderman & the Wind play Brooklyn Steel 4/28-30.)

(MJ Lenderman & the Wind play Franklin Music Hall in Philadelphia on 5/17.)

(MJ Lenderman & the Wind play The National in Richmond, Va., on 5/19.)

Photos courtesy of Toby Tenenbaum | @tobytenenbaum

[thebowerypresents]

The Hives Explode at Kings Theatre

The Hives – Kings Theatre – September 24, 2024

Of all the “the _____” bands of the early aughts rock renaissance, no one was more worthy of an added exclamation point to end their band’s name than the Hives. The Hives! Swedish purveyors of rock rizz in a time before rizz was in the lexicon, a time when the all-out Swedish takeover of American pop music was otherwise a little more subtle and buried in pop-song songwriter credits. The Hives are a band that know no subtlety.  

They’ve always been a live-show-first band, so their return to this world is a welcomed one. On Tuesday night they continued their comeback journey off the heels of their latest, The Death of Randy Fitzsimmons, their first album since 2012. But there were no cobwebs for the Hives to shake off last night. In fact, the metaphorical doors were immediately blown open with the opening guitar strums of “Bogus Operandi,” a true-to-form Hives jam that boils over by the time Howlin’ Pelle Almqvist enters the song shrieking, then boils over again and again and again. He looked to the audience and gestured for more applause like he was fanning the flames of a fire, the band donning their custom lightning-bolt-covered black-and-white suits. 

“I have been mortally wounded,” Almqvist informed Kings Theatre, letting everyone know he’d suffered an ACL injury, but in a call-and-response way with the crowd more in the style of a Pentecostal preacher. “You may have noticed I am not moving with my normal, cat-like vigor.” It’s always a little difficult to separate fact from myth with the Hives. If true, Almqvist was showing no signs of the injury. “I feel like it would do me a lot of good if you all blew on my knee,” he requested of the fans, instructing them through this twice. (Perhaps this had worked.) 

Almqvist is a man who windmills everything: windmill kicks, windmill arms, taking the microphone by the cord and windmilling that. He’s the least-still man in rock and roll, a joy to watch, to listen to banter between songs and to wander amongst the crowd. During a bathroom break I caught bartenders laughing at his line, “You have asked for a lot, but we have given you a lot.” The Hives also employs one of the world’s greatest and hardest-working stagehands, someone dressed in ninja attire as not to overshadow the band, doing his best to keep track up with the miles-long mic cord while the frontman snaked his way through the stage and crowd. 

“I hear this is a fast-paced environment where you can only make it if you do your job really quickly,” said Almqvist poking fun at New York City and introducing the fast-paced “Trap Door Solution.” For a show with ever-increasing energy, it was only appropriate to end with band introductions followed by the explosive “Tick Tick Boom.” Allow the Hives to reintroduce themselves, then explode. —Dan Rickershauser | @D4nRicks

(The Hives play Roadrunner in Boston tonight.)

Photos courtesy of Adela Loconte | www.adelaloconte.com

[thebowerypresents]

Earl Sweatshirt and Action Bronson Cap Off a Two-Night Run in NYC at Terminal 5 on Thursday

Earl Sweatshirt/Action Bronson – Terminal 5 February 17, 2022

Thursday began as a beautiful, unseasonably warm day and the night brought along show No. 2 of Action Bronson and Earl Sweatshirt at Terminal 5, with windy weather whiplashing the city from its temporary spring back into winter. You’d be forgiven for feeling similar whiplash going from Bronson to Sweatshirt, two rappers who share producers, skills and friends but are wildly different personalities and rappers. Bronson you may also know as Bam Bam, Bronsolino, Mr. Baklava, the Flushing Grizzly, the Rap Dennis the Menace or Mr. Wonderful. He’s also perhaps the only person you know to have come out of the pandemic a hundred-plus pounds lighter and ripped, despite many of us saying we’d do the same.

Although slimmed down, the larger-than-life charismatic Queens native was as charming as ever, even with some here-and-there start-that-agains. “You could put a fucking gun to my head and I would not have remembered that second verse,” said Bronson mid-set through one such instance. “This is an anti-drug commercial.” Bronson teased a new album in the works, something that was hard to catch the exact title of, just the very Bronson-esque follow-up explainer: “The most prehistoric predator alive! It’s a love story.” He brought out longtime pal and frequent collaborator the Alchemist for the performance’s finish, air-strumming along to the wistful guitar sample on “Terry” before the set self-immolated into the sunny, psychedelic “Easy Rider.”

The show wrapped with Earl, the introverted, world-weary and wise rapper, with his signature easy flow spilling out of his low register. Pacing the stage, he tore through verse after verse, bringing out just about any guest imaginable, from opener Boldy James to Zelooperz, Mike and the group Armand Hammer. “You can stay up here, hang out,” Earl would say after they finishing, slowly amassing a large collection of guests in the shadows behind the DJ booth. “Every single person I know is here right now, every single bitch in my life.”

The set was heavy with songs off his latest, Sick!, firing off effortless bar after bar, some genius enough to bounce around in your head forever. “Bend, we don’t break, we not the bank” I'd hear on a loop on the walk to Columbus Circle, watching the rain and wind whip through the Manhattan trees. —Dan Rickershauser | @D4nRicks

Photos courtesy of Andrew Pintado | www.drewmartinphoto.com

[thebowerypresents]

Chicano Batman Get Psychedelic at Webster Hall

Chicano Batman – Webster Hall – December 14, 2021

“We are Chicano Batman from Disneyland, California,” said singer Bardo Martinez, introducing the band tongue-in-cheek right as their set ended. While all four members of the Los Angeles–based band have roots south of the border, the band name is a slight misnomer (drummer Gabriel Villa is from Columbia). But they met at various parties and bonded over their shared love of a wide array of music, from Frank Zappa to Caetano Veloso’s 1972 Tropicália classic, Transa. Their own music pulls from those diverse influences and speaks often to the power of music bringing people together and the liberation that comes from that unity. And there’s no better time to celebrate getting together than a sunsetting 2021—when the times have been, well … you know—as fans did at a sold-out Webster Hall on Tuesday night.

The performance kicked off with the jaunty “Cycles of Existential Rhyme.” “The New Year’s passed it’s almost done / My present situation is this song,” sang Bardo Martinez. The bandmates swapped the spotlight shining through brightly on different songs. “Moment of Joy,” reminiscent of fellow modern-day psychedelic travelers Tame Impala, walking the fine line between trippy and sexy, was topped off with a cutting guitar solo from Carlos Arévalo. The catchy “Freedom Is Free” was made whole with the joyous bounce of Eduardo Arenas’s buoyant bassline, while the fast-paced “Manuel’s Story” was a refugee’s tale that felt like the song was chasing him down. “They were ready to take my life that day / That’s why I live right here 500 miles away,” sang Martinez. “Invisible People,” which sings to the liberation of immigrants, followed just before “Itotiani,” a ballad sung gorgeously by Martinez and with some assistance from the audience on the chorus.

The set then shot into the depths of space with “It’s a Balloon,” an organ-heavy tune reminiscent of Syd Barrett–era Pink Floyd. Chicano Batman returned to space several times throughout their psychedelic set. For “Polymetronomic Harmony” Martinez was in harmony with the audience, crowd-surfing over them. The show ended with “Black Lipstick,” a fan favorite that had all hips moving and Webster Hall feeling like the happiest place on earth. —Dan Rickershauer | @D4nRicks

(Chicano Batman play Union Transfer in Philadelphia tonight.)

Photos courtesy of Ken Grand-Pierre | www.kenamiphoto.com

[thebowerypresents]

Kamasi Washington Is Back in NYC to Headline Kings Theatre on Thursday

Depending on who’s asked, jazz is either dying or being reborn, which has been the case for as long as jazz has been a genre. It’s for that very reason that jazz has had a variety of “saviors” over the years. But ask any jazz head in 2020 who the current savior is and you’d get an astounding degree of consensus: Kamasi Washington, L.A.’s own tenor saxophonist and composer extraordinaire. He popped into jazz consciousness in a big way in 2015 with an epic one-two punch. The first jab was when Washington contributed to Kendrick Lamar’s now iconic To Pimp a Butterfly (stream it here), adding his saxophone to an album saturated in jazz, reintroducing rap fans everywhere to the genre. Next came his colossal three-part album, The Epic (stream it here). At almost three hours long, it’s an LP that doesn’t knock on the front door—it kicks it down.

He���s been a prolific figure ever since, not only within jazz but the music world at large, releasing his own material and guesting for anyone looking to give work to one of the best living saxophonists on the planet. Washington’s sound draws from all the genres jazz has influenced over the years, hip-hop, gospel, funk, soul and on and on. When you aim for a big sound, like he almost always does, you end up pulling in and making use of everything available to you. Like many jazz greats before him, Washington’s a musician who swings for the cosmos. His appropriately titled sophomore full-length, Heaven and Earth (stream it here), was released in 2018 to universal acclaim. Earlier this month, his feature-length documentary, Kamasi Washington Live at the Apollo Theater, debuted on Amazon Prime. And he returns to NYC this week to headline Kings Theatre on Thursday. —Dan Rickershauser | @D4nRicks

[thebowerypresents]

Ween Return to New York City for Two Shows at Terminal 5 This Weekend

We can glean from their history that the band Ween was founded by teens Gene and Dean Ween around 19 … 84. Real names Aaron Freeman and Mickey Melchiondo, respectively, the two met in middle school and began making home recordings together, harnessing all the energy that comes with being weird teenagers on drugs and creating some truly out-there jams. According to the group’s own lore, they were “sprouted from the demon-god Boognish,” a caricature you may recognize from Ween’s logo that demanded they form an alt-rock band together. “Start liking them now [for one day] you will get down on your filthy knees and crawl to the altar that is Ween,” said Henry Rollins at a 1990 show in Trenton, N.J. This advice was prescient. In the decades since, Ween’s music has become its own little bizarro universe, compiling a massive discography that spans genres, decades and subject material, unified only by its hard to define Ween-esque quirkiness that’s been a part of the band from the beginning. They’ve attracted a cult following that would love to live in this Ween universe. The late great SpongeBob SquarePants creator Stephen Hillenburg cites their album The Mollusk (stream it here) as a huge inspiration for his show, with Ween returning the love years later by recording the song “Loop de Loop,” featured in the episode about how to tie your shoes. No Ween, perhaps no SpongeBob, and it’s grim to imagine such a mundane world without either. By 2011, Ween appeared to have broken up for good, with Freeman announcing he was retiring as Gene Ween and Melchiondo stating that this news was a total surprise to him. Freeman later revealed that Ween was put on hiatus in his efforts to stay clean after battling past addiction issues.

Luckily for their rabid fans, the band reunited in 2015 for a series of sold-out shows in Colorado. And now, Ween return to Terminal 5 this weekend for a pair of shows—Friday and Saturday (which is already sold out)—and an opportunity to, in the words of Henry Rollins: “Crawl to the altar that is Ween.” —Dan Rickershauser | @D4nRicks

[thebowerypresents]

Pile Sound as Good as Ever at Music Hall of Williamsburg on Thursday

Pile – Music Hall of Williamsburg – May 23, 2019

Pile fans are a ravenous lot. There’s something about the group that turns folks into evangelists. Perhaps it’s a burning sense that the band should be bigger. The Pile bug got to me when I saw frontman Rick Maguire play in his first band, Hel Toro, when we were both still teenagers. I realized then, like a lot of other musicians in our little North Shore (Massachusetts) music scene, that our bands couldn’t come close to competing—we all had our own version of Clapton watching Hendrix perform moments of disbelief. The Pile bug bit Dan Goldin around 2011. As a college student in Boston seeing the band play basement shows around the city, Goldin decided to create Exploding in Sound Records, a music label that signed Pile and went on to ink Speedy Ortiz, Porches, Palehound and a bunch of other acts you may not know but probably should.

The big benefit of loyal fans is band longevity. Now seven albums in, Pile have survived the comings and goings of plenty of other once bigger and buzzier bands. Pile have had their own changes, too. Since their last album, the Matts (guitarist Matt Becker and bassist Matt Connery) have amicably left the group, replaced by Chappy Hull and Alex Molini, respectively. And while they’ll forever be known as a Boston band, three out of four members now live in Nashville, Tenn. But the only thing that really matters is their music and shows, both now better than ever. The rest is noise.

Pile are rocking an interesting stage setup for this tour, with drummer Kris Kuss and bassist Molini taking up most of the center stage last night at Music Hall of Williamsburg, flanked by Hull and Maquire at the sides. Kuss deserves his spot in the center—he’s a fun-as-hell drummer to watch (think Animal from the Muppets). While slamming down on his snares, he opened and closed his mouth like he was eating the air around him, and with Molini slapping the bass in front of him, the rhythm section was a unified front. Things built to a crescendo, stopping and starting from the center out.

This stop-and-start momentum of Pile songs has always created the perfect environment for a moshing audience, primed and ready to go for the grungy sing-along of “Don’t Touch Anything.” The brief stops made for nice pauses to sustain a level of energy not possible if it had been constant. You can freak out, then compose yourself, freak out again, find the hat you just lost freaking out, rinse and repeat. There’s even a bit of tension that sneaks into some of Pile’s more tender songs. On “Hair,” off their latest album, Green and Gray, there’s a sense of menace beneath the surface that never quite comes to a boil. On the ones that do boil over, Maguire’s melodic singing turns on a dime into a melodic scream. “Those baby teeth don’t grow,” he yells into oblivion on “Baby Boy.” To think of the hundreds of times he’s sung it without spitting out chunks of vocal chords is a testament to his talent.

But even this was outdone on “The Soft Hands of Stephen Miller,” inspired by one of the most ghoulish figures of the ghastly world we’re all living in. It fits the personality: I’ve never heard uglier vocals as Maguire sang, “Hell” at the song’s finish. He left behind his guitar to fully commit to singing the shit out of it, jumping from the stage to the floor, the crowd appeared to devour him whole. There’s still a lot of darkness in this world, the reminders of it are constant. But seeing a band you’ve loved forever be loved by others in the same way offers a moment of reprieve. Shitty as things are, sometimes the good guys still win. —Dan Rickerhauser | @D4nRicks

Photos courtesy of Andie Diemer | andiediemer.com

[thebowerypresents]

Vampire Weekend Celebrate New Album with Epic Show at Webster Hall

Vampire Weekend – Webster Hall – May 5, 2019

Bagels and pizza and more than six hours with Vampire Weekend, oh my! If there’s a better way to spend a Sunday morning and afternoon, it’s probably illegal. Hot on the heels of the release of Father of the Bride—out this past Friday—their first new album in six years, Vampire Weekend played three sets beginning at 11 a.m. on Sunday morning at the newly renovated and reopened Webster Hall. The only uncooperative factor was the weather, a cold and drizzly day that might cause you to look outside and want to stay home. “This is going to be the longest show we've ever done. We just want you to know what you’re in for,” said singer Ezra Koenig just a few songs into their first set, which began, aptly, with a cover of the Velvet Underground’s “Sunday Morning” then moving into a jammy version of “Obvious Bicycle” that detoured its way in and out of a “Son of a Preacher Man” cover before returning back to the song’s melody. Somewhere in the midst of this came a masterful Grateful Dead–like guitar jam, with the seven-piece band firing on all cylinders. Good morning to you, too, Vampire Weekend. 

The first set came heavy with covers. If there was a theme among them it was slightly lesser known ’80s songs from favorite artists of the ’70s, starting with “I’m Goin’ Down” by Bruce Springsteen and “Everywhere” by Fleetwood Mac. “For the record, there are two Vampire Weekend songs that sound like Paul Simon songs, only two. I won’t say which two. But this next song also sounds like a Paul Simon song," said Koenig in jest, kicking off their rendition of Simon’s “Late in the Evening.” The band then returned to their own originals, having the audience sing the M.I.A. sample to kick off “Diplomat’s Son,” playing through some more hits and then ending the first set with their final overlooked ’80s song from a musical legend, “Jokerman” by Bob Dylan.

For the middle set, Vampire Weekend played through the entirety of Father of the Bride, with some support from Haim singer-guitarist Danielle Haim. Perhaps only the most devoted Vampire Weekend fans sign up for a daylong performance, but it was remarkable just how many in the audience seemed to know every word of an album released just a couple of days earlier. The two other Haim sisters—Alana and Este—joined in on the sunny, sing-along friendly “This Life,” already well on its way to becoming a Vampire Weekend classic. “Sunflower” had the group going full-out jam band, fleshing out the silly-at-first song into a complete noisy guitar-jam freak-out. “Flower Moon” featured Koenig on the talk box, giving Peter Frampton a run for his money. The set closed out with the live debuts of the new album’s final four songs and some more Danielle Haim appearances, ending with the somber “Jerusalem, New York, Berlin” and a reminder to head downstairs for pizza.

“It’s been a long, beautiful day,” said Koenig returning for set three, noting that he knew sometime in the first set that this would be the best show they’d ever played. The final set pulled out all of the remaining hits, with their first album especially well represented. It also featured a handful of surprises, including a cover of SBTRKT’s “New Dorp. New York.” The original features Koenig's vocals, but Sunday’s cover played it reimagined as a Vampire Weekend song, complete with an absolute blistering guitar solo from guitarist Brian Robert Jones. A recent addition to the band, Jones is an imposing figure onstage with a big presence and an even bigger head of hair. The band also covered the catchy little ditty “Sister of Pearl,” from Chris Baio’s solo work.

There might be no better way to stave off the Sunday scaries than screaming out at the top of your lungs, “If I can’t trust you then damn it, Hannah!” on “Hannah Hunt,” a song that sits at a slow boil before exploding into its chorus. Other bands take note: You can still play a concert literally all day long and fans in the audience will still eagerly shout out requests as if you’re going to leave a major hit off the table. Noting that they still had a lot of songs left to go, Koenig said, “We’re reaching that point where we have a lot of songs, it feels good!” Nearing the 50-track mark, Vampire Weekend stormed through any other hits that had yet to be played, “Diane Young” into “Cousins” into “A-Punk” into “Campus” into “Oxford Comma” into “I Think Ur a Contra.” And yes, there was an encore, which started off with a cover of Thin Lizzy’s “The Boys are Back in Town,” allowing Koenig to then reveal himself as a Thin Lizzy fanboy afterward. There was even still room for one more surprise guest appearance, with New York City’s own Dev Hynes (of Blood Orange) joining for the final song of the day, “Ya Hey.”

“A lot’s happened on this weird little island,” reminisced Koenig, noting how the band members found each other and formed Vampire Weekend while living in Manhattan. It’s at this point that they’re now thinking about their legacy. Not many bands can pull off an all-day show. And as far as legendary New York City acts go, they may always be a bit of an outlier. They’ve produced some joyful, uncynical music over the years in a city not known for its cheeriness—and in times not known for optimism. Are there any other NYC musical legends with a similar story? Forgive the comparison Ezra Koenig, but maybe only Paul Simon. —Dan Rickershauser | @D4nRicks

Photos courtesy of DeShaun Craddock | dac.photography

@deshaunicus

[thebowerypresents]

Full Hearts for Adrianne Lenker at Music Hall of Williamsburg

They say the heart wants what the heart wants. On Valentine’s Day night, at Adrianne Lenker’s sold-out show at Music Hall of Williamsburg, I found my greedy heart wanting nothing more than for Lenker to hit the recording studio with all the new songs I kept hearing live. She began the performance with the new and excellent “Not,” an extremely catchy number worth hunting down any and all live recordings of in the meantime. Then followed the laugh-aloud funny new song currently titled “Celestial Body.” Think: a Raffi tune on acid. It elicited laughter with just about every line, including one about an alien living in your heart and loving every part of you except your elbows.

Lenker is an endearing soul. Those who hadn’t seen her live before might’ve been surprised to know how effortlessly funny she is. Her between-songs stage banter was top-notch. I’ve felt the same about other bands and artists only to discover that they say the same rehearsed lines at every show, but Lenker is a true live-in-the-moment improviser. “The next song is an older song of mine. It’s 54 years old—54 years old in song-years, right? Does anyone really know?” she said as an introduction to “Hours Were the Birds.” She had to start it again after getting distracted by thinking about how she’d written the song when she was in New York City.

Luke Temple, the show’s opener and a frequent Big Thief collaborator, later joined Lenker onstage. She remarked how surreal it was to be working alongside someone whose music she’d admired long before they’d ever met. The two felt like kindred musical spirits, each showcasing some real guitar prowess on “Terminal Paradise,” spinning out luscious sound with nothing but their instruments. While they tuned their guitars, someone shouted, “What are your star signs?” leading to some groans from the crowd. “I don’t know,” responded Lenker to applause. She then clarified that she didn’t know Temple’s but that she was a Cancer, and then asked everyone in the audience to shout out their signs, or any signs they wanted to shout out on the count of three. Temple followed up with, “Sagittarius. I’m a damn Sagittarius. A Goddamn Sagittarius.” And just like that, Lenker turned a pretty obnoxious question into a beautiful shared moment. “I don’t know why I said I didn't know my sign, I do. I guess I just always wanted to answer that question that way.” In that moment you could almost feel cupid’s arrow sticking out of your chest. If you’re a Lenker fan, you’ll soon understand the feeling. Just wait for these new songs to come out. —Dan Rickershauser | @D4nRicks

Photo courtesy of Andie Diemer

[thebowerypresents]

Kevin Morby Embraces Life at Webster Hall on Wednesday Night

Kevin Morby – Webster Hall – October 26, 2022

Kevin Morby is an artist who’s lived many places: The mountains, cities and rivers of this beautiful but crazy country seep their way into his material, and sometimes they’re even the central focus of his songs. “New York City was my home for a long time. I lived here longer than anywhere else in my adult life,” said Morby last night at a sold-out Webster Hall, before introducing his final song, “Harlem River,”about the eight-mile tidal strait separating the Bronx from Manhattan, written just before moving away from the city. His love for his former home is palpable, it rolls through his music like the repeating bass line of “Harlem River.”

“I always dedicate this song to whatever city I am in, but it’s really about New York," Morby said of “City Music.” (Take that, other cities!) He’s since moved many places since, most recently to Kansas City, Kan., alongside his girlfriend, the also incredibly talented singer-songwriter Katie Crutchfield of Waxahatchee and Plains. You can sense that place and Crutchfield’s influence in his most recent album, This Is a Photograph, recorded and inspired by time he spent in Memphis, Tenn. The LP was printed on his backdrop and the title track opened last night’s set. The song’s refrain, “This is what I’ll miss about being alive,” was the night’s overall vibe, a true celebration shaking off years we’ve all spent perhaps too much time meditating on our own mortality. 

You’d think Morby, donning a flashy fringe gold jack­et, was hitting his Graceland era. If nothing else, the outfit highlighted his constant motion, showcasing that even onstage, Morby is not a man who can sit still. Softer moments in the set, like the gorgeously arranged “Bittersweet, TN,” still had him shifting his weight between his feet. The song featured a gorgeous back-and-forth trading of singing with backing vocalist Elizabeth Moen, a welcome touring member of Morby’s band who really elevated the arrangement with her gorgeous vocals. The new songs shined as bright as some of the best of his career. The jaunty “Rock Bottom,” is an absolute bop that had the Webster Hall balconies bouncing. “Stop Before I Cry,” is an incredibly sweet and moving love letter to Crutchfield. The way his arrangements traced every lyric made them dynamic and alive. Even toward the end of the set, with just Morby and Liam Kazar on slide guitar, it was the slide guitar following along, bringing out the heavy sentiments of the song. 

The encore featured frequent collaborator, past tour mate and New York City’s own Hamilton Leithauser to join in on a cover of (also NYC’s own) Velvet Underground’s “What Goes On.”Leithauser stayed to sing through a verse of “Beautiful Strangers,” as well as Elizabeth Moen taking another. The track is not only one of Morby’s best but maybe one of the best songs by anyone over the past several years, perfectly encapsulating a yearning for an end to these anxious times. Morality weighs heavily on the song but punching through is a sense that love and music is always the antidote. It’s what I'll miss most about being alive.  —Dan Rickershauser | @D4nRick

Photos courtesy of Toby Tenenbaum | @Tobytenenbaum

[thebowerypresents]

Noname Is Down-to-Earth at Brooklyn Steel on Saturday Night

Noname – Brooklyn Steel – January 5, 2019

There’s no wall that separates Noname from her fans, metaphorical or otherwise. She’s not a performer who puts herself on a pedestal. Even onstage before a huge backing band, an impressive set of backstage lights, a huge blinking neon sign that reads ROOM 25 (the name of her much-acclaimed debut album), Noname can’t help but remain her humble self. “What the fuck!” she exclaimed upon seeing the sold-out audience before her at Brooklyn Steel as the house lights went on for the first time on Saturday night. “There’s so many people here!”

Noname’s a rapper known for her low-key, understated delivery. She shares in style that same Midwestern earnestness you’ll find in other Chicago rappers like Chance the Rapper and Saba. But there’s also something unique to who she is that makes her come off extremely likable. “I’m being supervulnerable here in front of thousands of people right now,” she said after taking a second stab at a verse. No one seemed to mind—it’s easy to root for someone so self-deprecating. “I apologize for my awkwardness and lack of rhythm,” she joked after another one of her songs. “I promise I’m having fun up here. I’m just awkward and don’t know what to do with myself.” When someone shouted out love for her hair, she replied, “Yeah, I spent a lot more money on my wig this time around!” 

Noname’s voice started to go toward the end of the set, apparently battling tonsillitis. Consider this further proof that she’s “one of us” as everyone and their brother seem to have some sort of cold right now. But she still came back for an encore, an a cappella version of “No Name,” Room 25’s final track, an appropriately intimate conclusion and a glimpse into how things all began for her. She dabbled in slam poetry before rapping, and this just-vocals version gave the audience an honest feel for her wordsmith-ing superpowers. “My pussy wrote a thesis on colonialism” —a line in “Self”—is probably the best rap lyric written last year, and just about everyone in the room joined in for it when Noname opened the show with the tune (it’s a funny thing to witness pasty Brooklyn white boys shout). These past few years have been a rocket ride for her, but it feels like this is all just the beginning for the performer. And no matter where the rocket ride takes her career next, you can rely on Noname to stay down-to-earth. —Dan Rickershauser | @D4nRicks

Photos courtesy of Andrew Pintado | www.drewmartinphoto.com

[thebowerypresents]

John Moreland Fills Music Hall of Williamsburg with Heartbreak

John Moreland – Music Hall of Williamsburg – February 23, 2022

When it comes to heartbreaking songs from the heartland, no one is penning and singing them right now better than singer-songwriter John Moreland. Hailing from Tulsa, Okla., he wears his home state not on his sleeve but tattooed across his fingers, pulling out guitar songs that echo back generations, burned from his own soul. Moreland played to an impressively cross-generational audience on Wednesday night at Music Hall of Williamsburg, joined by lead guitarist John Calvin Abney for all but three songs.

It's impressive just how much two guitars and Moreland’s voice could fill the room, their sound so often demanding reverence that they played to an awed audience, completely still and silent. “In Times Between” swung so wildly with its dynamics, swelling into a loud plea until being left with just Moreland’s baritone to sing, “The love we knew so well was barely hanging on a string.” Backed by beautifully unfolding guitar slides from Abney, Moreland’s vocals and songwriting were always the star. He’s able to pull out a voice deep from within, and despite some grit in his baritone, it never quite cracked where you’d expect.

“OK, boys sound good,” yelled someone in the audience at one point, overly excited and out of the blue from an otherwise mellow crowd. “Just doin’ my best,” replied Moreland, calm and cool while tuning his guitar. He was left on his own to perform three of his most personal songs, “No Glory in Regret,” the heartsick beauty “You Don’t Care for Me Enough to Cry” and a crowd favorite, “Hang Me in the Tulsa County Stars.” For a stretch of the show, there was a silver-haired man upstairs with his head on his arms resting on the balcony’s banister, looking down on the stage in awe. It’s always a joy to see older kin in admiration of something, and Moreland hearkens back to such an American songwriting tradition that seeing him perform does feel like a passing of the folk-singer-songwriter torch. It’s a torch that finds light in despair and puts music to the anguish that comes along with wholeheartedly confronting this imperfect world. —Dan Rickershauser | @D4nRicks

Photo courtesy of Dan Rickershauser | @D4nRicks