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Issue # 36 Apr 2002 thewigwambam.com |
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| Ignoring Objectivity Since 1998
WIG WAM BAM “Albuquerque zine of music & nepotism” Life is not a cabaret and stop calling me “chum”:
Filmed just prior to the period portrayed in Cabaret, Der Blaue Engel [The Blue Angel) was an influence on the look & style of the play & movie. [UFA Films, Germany 1930; w/ Emil Jannings & Marlene Dietrich) Big Deal: the Breeders are back! Kim & Kelley 1/28/02 at the Launchpad. |
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| LOCAL SHOWS local venues, bands from here or there |
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| The Phase, Cabaret @ Pope Joy Hall, Oh,
Ranger! Red Planet, Sour Vein, Below the Sound, Feels Like Sunday, Sown, Crash
Kills Four, Pop Action Squad, the B-Sides, the Damnations, Kirk Rondstrom,
Richmond Fontaine |
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| LOCAL ZINES |
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| Beanfeast #2 |
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| LOCAL SHOWS |
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The Phase 2/15/02 @ Burt’s I see this band more than anyone these days. Lots of practices & lots of gigs means that they’re getting better and really starting to rock. Glitter-boy Zed is improving on the jumping-around-rock-star thing. And why not? Nobody wants to see a band stare at their fucking shoes all night -- although his shoes are cool to look at if not comfortable. Plus he has a new fun/fashion accessory each show like tonight’s black & white shades. But it wasn’t just him, the whole gang looked & sounded more relaxed than ever tonight. They’ve got lots of gigs lined up so I’m soon gonna run out of things to say about each show except, ummm, I liked it. Cabaret 2/17/02 @ Popejoy Hall Being a closet Luddite, I resisted doing any transactions online for a long-time. A few days before, I realized this play was about to sell-out on its four-day run so I zapped myself a pair of tickets just in time. The website said the curtain is 8PM so of course it turned out to actually be 7:30. I’ve only ever wanted to see one other play in my life (when I was 16 my mom took me to The Wiz; it was terribly disappointing-- devoid of all funk & soul and as lily-pure as the Great White Way itself-- ease on down the road y’self mothafucka); so I was pissed to miss ¼ of Cabaret.However, being a trouper, it’s On with the show! Personally, I’m tired of anti-Nazi propaganda (c’mon, it’s such an easy target, a no-brainer, a sitting duck...like emo) but like Bob Fosse’s dynamite1972 movie version, the play bashes Adolf with style (and a half!), wit, humor, “divine decadence” and dependable B’way schmaltz. And lots of filthy innuendo. It’s much dirtier than the movie by far. The story takes place at the Kit Kat Club, in pre-World War II Germany, a time of pretty low in taste to begin with (it’s amazing how bad taste can actually taste so good, isn’t it?). I can’t tell a good stage actor from a bad one (that they must “project” all the way to the back row & balcony reminds me of awful tenth-grade drama class productions); however most of the troupe (the Kit Kat Girls) had to sing, dance, play a brass instrument and look good in garters, heels & enough make-up to smother the New York Dolls. The actors merely had to sing & remember their lines. Here (as in the movie), the emcee (played by Christopher Sloan) stole the show (it’s a plum role and twice as juicy) but the actress (Allison Spratt) who played easy-virtue showgirl Sally Bowles couldn’t touch the film’s star Liza Minelli, the best female drag queen in Hollywood. Obligatory rock n’ roll note: costume designer William Ivey Long has outfitted ol’ Rubberlips himself, Mick Jagger. That’s gotta be worth a point or two. Speaking of rock, I vote for a punk version of Cabaret starring none other than Jayne (nee Wayne) County her/himself backed up by the Toilet Boys and with Tony Curtis in the male lead. Oh, Ranger!, Red Planet, the Phase 2/24/02 @ Insomnia I’m starting to feel like a Deadhead: I haven’t missed a Phase show yet. Luckily, no one in the band looks like Jerry Garcia. Soni, however, in her buckskin fringe skirt & matching forearm chaps under a Navy jacket, looked like two of the Village People at once-- no easy task. Although they fucked around forever -- waiting on San Francisco’s Red Planet who left a guitar or something in Oklahoma City and had to turn back to get it; then wait again while some Phaselings went to the Martini Grille around the corner for a fast grog with the Planet boys -- the Phase finally put on as good a set as they could with all the hecklers in the crowd(especially those Mistletoe dudes).Mistress Felice was as subdued as ever befitting her bass-chick status. Aubrey looked above it all on the drum riser, just like those old black & white pix with Ringo Starr over the other Beatles. Frontman (just ‘cause he’s standing in front not because he’s the brains of the organization or anything) Zed Stardust has been bustin’ out the moves lately especially for their closing tune. Here’s hoping the breakin’ and poppin’ continues. Red Planet have as much or more fun than anyone you’ve ever seen, leaping around like a bunch of burning spastics, combining the syncopated moves of ZZ Top with the manic kicks of vintage Paul Revere & the Raiders. The crew got pretty motley when they called up all the House of Evil residents (which includes half the Phase) for vocals on a song written in their own backyard. In the audience, we had to push, pull, kick & bite to make sure they all went up to the mike. I liked Red Planet more than when I caught their set at the Las Vegas Shakedown fest last year. Beneath the barrage of Iggy/ Dolls-style trash n’ roll there, Red Planet’s hesher pop didn’t hold up. But here in an intimate setting where you could get clocked with one of their guitar pegs if you were too close, a good time was had by all. The guitar lead length could be cut by up to 2/3 with no loss but that’s just me. I get a gut reaction of displeasure that fast turns to loathing when anyone plays above the eighth fret. And Van Halen covers are no laughing matter; serious or in jest --they ought to be banned in their entirety and the perpetrators shot as a warning to others. I can’t remember the last time I saw Oh, Ranger! It may have been close to when they still (sort of) the Skunks. Their first four or five songs rocked in a cool alt.rock way, quite enjoyable. After that, things tended toward the indie/emo rock side which loses me right off the bat no matter how well-played. Too, it would be hard to follow the epileptic Red Planet. But that was one thing I was most pleased with on this bill: none of the bands had any musical style in common. Vive le difference! SOUR VEIN, BELOW the SOUND 2/25/02 @ Burt’s contributed by the Madcow Below the Sound was great, and their new material kicks ass all up and down the street. Unfortunately as usual the audience for them was sparse. Beer was taking precedence. However a couple of us paid good attention and received a dose of Albuquerque's best yet-unseen trio. I hope that they don't fall into the same scenario as many of the really good local bands have: unnoticed here, but achieving great audiences in the rest of the country, especially now that they got picked up by Berserker Records. Sour Vein was intense. Much better than when Fukrot played with them at the Launchpad. I think the main problem there was a lack of volume. It was really hard to hear the guitar the last time, which I can't figure out. Their guitarist was playing through an Orange full stack... who knows, maybe a few speakers were blown. Well, at least this time when Sour Vein hit the half-oval stage of Burts, they had full volume and some to spare. I don't know why I didn't have my ear plugs on me. I know full well that listening to this type of music is best done when it is loud-- very loud. Their style falls within that grand genre of "stoner rock" but they retain originality, making what they play their own and no one else’s. Not once was I disappointed by predictable riffs and changes, as so often occurs now when I listen to bands that have similar roots. On the one hand a band can be a parasite on a style of music, breaking it down into easy sugar coated formulas for the masses to swallow only being able to survive by toting the label of their particular brand of musical genre that they copy. And as with anything that gets copied over and over you lose the integrity of the picture to the point that you only have basic shapes and forms. On the other hand a band can contribute to the style by either being innovative and/or doing it very fucking well. I see many of the locals being parasites to the genre. Sour Vein is a band that makes great contributions to it and is able to stand alone without the labeling of style. Below the Sound is another great band that holds their own entirely, without any safety net of a genre. All in all this was a good show to be at, even though the ringing in my ears made it a little difficult to fall asleep once I made it home. Feels Like Sunday, Sown 3/1/01 @ Launchpad Warning: this is more of a springboard for a rant than a review I keep thinking I need to get out more and hear new bands rather than the same old stuff. Tonight did nothing to convince me. In fact I’m rather sad contemplating what promises to be years of staying home and playing records until the next “punk” revival because I’m not finding much on the outside that’s exciting or exceptional. Competent, decent, technically skilled? Yes. Unique or remarkable? A big fat no. Sown are J-Rock but not much like J as in Japanese (as they bill themselves) but more like J as in Jam Rock with a touch of middle-of-the-road funk. Just because singer Yumi is Japanese doesn’t make the band so. I caught only four songs of what seemed to me to be standard rock but minus the roll. Speaking of which, rave culture has ruined rockn’roll; there’s just too much love: its so touchy-feely, everyone hugging & sharing their bottled water--no one’s throwing shit at the band or insulting their friends on stage. Where’s the sarcasm and mean-spirited fun? Feels Like Sunday’s loyal following were all standing twelve feet from the stage, leaving a wide lonely gap. How can you fuck with your friends on stage if you treat them that way? How can a band feel the crowd’s input like that?! I guess I’m spoiled from all those years of Scared of Chaka shows where the crowd was just as much a part of the show as the band-- chucking ice cubes at them, girls AND boys trying to yank Dave Hernandez’s pants down during the set etc. It seems like no one’s even drunk at shows anymore. Go ahead and ruin your spinal fluid with “E” if you want, kids, us rock-n-rollers will stick to brain-cell death and alcohol. You might be cheerful but we’re having a hell of a lot more fun. Feels Like Sunday feels more like little excitement. The tempo doesn’t vary much, doesn’t rock and there’s no hooks to get stuck in your head. I couldn’t hear any influence except from more-of-the-same bands. The problem with rockn’roll being over fifty years old is that its just feeding on itself, eating its own shit and getting just about as much nutrition as you’d expect. Early rock, pop, punk and even prog had some sense of history. Rock musicians still shared the charts with(and so were influenced by) people like Nat King Cole, the Four Tops or Johnny Cash; in other words, rock had more reference to jazz, pop, R& B, jitterbug, blues, country, soul, everything! I was quite literally raised hearing over and over and over again my mom’s Harry Belafonte, Barbra Streisand and Frank Sinatra albums (spin any of their pre-1970 records and I guarantee I know the goddamn words); I never want to hear any of that stuff again but it was a musical education in production, arrangement, melody, timing, taste--you name it. I wouldn’t trade that for anything. Now that hip hop and techno/ world beat have taken over the planet, young musicians/ music fans have to really dig deep to get familiar with a range of rock/pop musical styles. I’m a crusty old fuck, I know, but seeing bands like Sunday “rock” by throwing their hands in the air (“raising the roof” and all that other rapper shite) just gets my goat. Flapping your hands around is no way to get down; what happened to banging your head or shaking your hips? Shit, it even makes me miss dumb-ass pogoing. I dunno, I guess someone ought to just take me out back and shoot me and leave “the kids” to their own scene… the PHASE 3/8/02 @ Launchpad contributed by the Madcow UK meets LA post-punk circa 1981 with a stop off in NYC. Crash Kills Four, Pop Action Squad, the Phase 3/8/02 @ Sprockets Probably the sloppiest Phase set so far but still worth-while. (see the Madcow’s review above, which, if you think about it, is killer complimentary). I bet the sloppiness came from Chuck (Icelandic) fucking with the Phase set list beforehand; damn troublemaker!! I had a previous engagement at Milton’s diner so I only heard a little of Pop Action Squad. It seemed promising with power- pop ala Sugar and maybe the tiniest bit of Dave Grohl but then I started hearing emo-ish guitar work and intervals. I’m not certain but maybe I’m like bigot 1950s Senator Joe McCarthy seeing the Red Menace of Communism creeping in everywhere but I swear to god, emo is infiltrating rock and pop just like rap skeezed its way into soul and R&B; not an outright takeover but subverting & perverting from within. Its insidious I tells ya! Oh and last month I erroneously reported that Pop Action had changed to their name to Simulacram. To quote Bogart from 1942’s Casablanca, “I was misinformed”. Sorry, guys. After chile fries, coffee and long art & music conversation at the diner I was feeling a bit more charitable so stopped back at Sprockets to catch the tail end of CK4. It was more rocking than I’ve previously reported but just not my cup of whatever. I have to mention that this was the best lookin’ crowd I’ve seen at Sprockets in quite awhile. Normally, there’s lots of well-scrubbed Aryan dorm kids raising some kind of ruckus now that they’re away from mom & dad’s rein for the first time. Not tonight – lots of body-modified scenesters and rock (and emo) aficionados. I guess the gig was a benefit but for the life of me I’m still not sure why everyone’s all hopped up over angora. the b-SIDES 3/9/02 @ Insomnia On the strength of the name & the Alibi preview, the b-Sides sounded intriguing enough to check out. Their harmonies were spot-on and well-practiced but the overall sound of the group was a prog Archies with Rick Wakeman aspirations. The most amusing part of the evening was on the way in when the door-guy asked if I was “one of the dads”. Guess he thought I was checking up on the kids… Anyway the gig reminded me of the records that I used to cut off the back of cereal boxes when I was like thirteen. There probably was an Archies or two and I know I had a Bobby Sherman. You think flexi-discs are ephemeral? Try a sheet of cardboard impregnated with wax grooves that still smells like oat cereal and sugar. Still, it was a rare time when, following the early 60s success of the Beatles and later the Monkees, every Saturday morning kid show like the Banana Splits Adventure Hour, Josie & the Pussycats had a band or at least (as early as 1962!) a rocker character like Jet Screamer on the Jetsons. We ate it up with the spoon from our bowls of sugary death breakfast cereal. All this commercialization of the Rock eventually led to the Punk backlash. The way I see it, the success of Nirvana, Soundgarden and all the other “angry” bands of the early 90s was a re-celebration (albeit watered-down) of pissed-off punk. Nowadays, we have ultra-poppy stuff like the b-Sides, a nostalgia for the feel-good/be-nice later 80s vibe that was a backlash to punk that was, like I say, a backlash in itself. Tonight’s set by the the b’s was OK; but untouchable at the top of the ultra-pop heap of late is our own Shins and the marvelous New Pornographers. These two bands have ruined me for anything else of the same vein. I hope I can hold out for another eight years or so until punk is re-interpreted once again by, say, Chris Cornell’s kid; anything to get past this well-mannered shit which is just hippies in disguise. the Damnations, Kirk Rondstrom, Richmond Fontaine 3/18/02 @ Burt’s Twang night at the Tiki Lounge. I swear the music scene here is starting to feel more and more like the old Dingo Bar (that previously occupied this spot) where you could go four or five nights in a row and not hear the same sort of music. Bravo! I wasn’t quite sure who was who but I guess it was Richmond Fontaine up first with some Gram-inspired story-songs, more country than alt. in its way. The steel player wielded his slide well, adding a sweet accent to what were mostly mellow tunes. As mellow, in fact, as some toasted cosmic country longhair with a walrus moustache and fringed buckskin duds (you know the type). The tempo was mostly unwaveringly slow throughout the set, a minus in my book. Kirk Rondstrom Band (persona from the over-rated Split Lip Rayfield) on the other hand were pure in-the-red twangcore: too amped in sound level and energy. The tempo here was frenetic from start to finish, a bit too jarring and, well, just plain loud. Now, the Damnations were (like Baby Bear’s porridge) just right with – wait. Let me back up a minute… Even without all the O Brother Where Art Thou hoopla going on these days (the flick that’s brought mass consciousness back to “americana” “roots” music) there’s a reason why-- well into his eighties-- Mr Ralph Stanley is still well-respected in bluegrass circles. Besides being one of the last old codgers still a-kickin’, his repertoire runs the gamut from soft & low lovelorn to keening gospel to stomping breakdowns -- that’s the true range of old-time hilltop string music, the antecedent of what we call country (don’t let Ralph catch you calling him “bluegrass”; that term was actually rather rigidly defined [but so well!] by Bill Monroe and the Bluegrass Boys from the late 40s on). The Damnations have that same range but don’t let grandstanding banjo licks or the like get in the way of the music (unlike Rondstrom or Rayfield). Even though they cover 70s cowboy Doug Sahm and even the Minutemen, the overall impression is authenticity sans slavery to style, akin to how Norman Blake, Gillian Welch & David Rawlings or the fabulous Neko Case & Her Boyfriends make it sound fresh, vibrant and old-as-the-hills all at once. Before the show I heard lots of comparisons to X but if you want to get technical, the analogy is more apt to X side-project the Knitters. And as country musicians, X was a pretty good rock band. The twang stuff left the incredible duo of DJ Bonebrake and Billy Zoom [drums; guitar] to pretty much just sit on their talented hands, while, as much as I admire Exene, her country voice is rather poor. John Doe was the only one that fit the country mold and even then, it was a poor fit, straining at the seams (but then again, they were punks first & foremost after all). Singer/rhythm guitar Deborah Kelly has a voice a bit reminiscent of Kim Deal, making her numbers sound like a less-obtuse Amps. Her rhythms were strong on that old Martin box slung over her shoulder. Rob Bernard (guitar and banjo) was at his best on the sweeping but not overpowering electric leads-- great stuff! Didn’t catch the drummer’s name but he was from one of the other bands. This was his first gig with the Damnations and for the most part he played like he’s known the songs for years. But the band’s secret-weapon is the vocals (and tasteful basswork) of Amy Boone: a great range within the lower octaves and powerful but quite in control so that her power doesn’t knock you over the head. When Deborah & Amy harmonized, it was pure icing on the cake. All that said, the CD I picked up-- this year’s Where It Lands [Joyride Records] -- is good but slightly disappointing in that it lacks the commanding (but subtly so) power of their live set, being a polite mix rather than pushed towards the top. But I’d see the Damnations every chance I get. Hope I get more chances. |
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| LOCAL ZINES title & number precede page count, size, print, frequency; price |
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BeanFeast #2 18pp, ¼ size, ?; free beanfeast@ hotmail.com A most pleasant surprise in my mailbox last month, Beanfeast is “dedicated to the snack and those who love it”. Written by Bite Size, Flavor Seal and Hot Wing (I can’t shake the feeling that I know this crew—who the fuck are they?), it breaks no new ground (lots of zines have done stuff like this before, most famous is Giant Robot and their reviews of cheapass ramen, inscrutable Asian snacks, canned coffee etc), Beanfeast is funny as hell. And FINALLY a zine that has absolutely nothing to do with music or punk or politics, hurray! There hasn’t been one of these locally since Quench (subject: beverages of all kinds) five or six years ago. Beanfeast’s “Salty Snack Issue” comments on over a dozen nasty-sounding gas-station/dollar-store munchies like Chicken In A Biskit BBQ, Pez Orange Popcorn and S&W Pik-Nik Ketchup Flavor Fries, crap that no one in their right-mind would purchase let alone consume. Beanfeast does it so you won’t have to. |
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| WIG WAM BAM EDITORIAL |
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Indie Rock vs The Clown So Albuquerque’s biggest state-side success-story the Shins sold a song to McDonalds for a TV commercial. Big deal. Don’t get me wrong: McDonald’s is pure evil, right up there with (I’m dead serious) Disney and Bill Gates. But the Shins? They can do what they like. Hell, I never liked that song anyway (as a rule, the best cut is never picked for the single or video, you can count on that). I don’t like it a bit but I also don’t like Iggy Pop on cruise ship commercials or the Who’s music hawking anti-depressants, the Buzzcocks selling cars or worst of all John Lennon’s Revolution used to sell fucking running shoes (talk about kicking a man when he’s down, the guy had to die before they could get their hands on his music!). You think its fucked here? Bands in Japan break their songs on TV commercials before they can even get airplay. I have no idea how much the Shin boys will actually make from their McDeal but don’t even think for a minute that they’ll be on Easy Street the rest of their lives. It will be to all our benefit if they use the windfall payoff and buy themselves the time to write and record another excellent CD. Or maybe you purists would rather they earn the money by working behind the counter at McDonalds? That would be no Happy Meal for anyone, I can assure you… |
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Keep
that card & letter coming!
PO BX 4865 Albq NM 87196 captainamerica1941@hotmail.com Aubrey, ex-drummer for the Phase, crusading rock journalist for the Santa Fe New Mexican and soon-to-be subject of the Queen, sends this observation: “I can't really think of any emo girl bands- maybe that sort of sad bastard music with the loud guitars is just more suited to guys.” Bassist the Madcow (Fukrot) weighs in with this out-of-context comment: “I think that what is worse than emo taking over the world is the emo people playing metal.” DJ Obenjyo says: “Its hard enough to do what I do in Albuquerque much less a town full of emo-rockers. I swear I though broad range was a good thing” Someone named Captain Cunt e-mailed the Phase website (huh?) with this tidbit:: “i just want to say that i hate captain america and all his little ‘emo rants’ thinking he’s some rock n roll kid or something. your zine sucks and you’re an ugly fag . Sunday, March 17th 2002 01:24PM” In three years this is the first hate-mail I’ve gotten; not sure why it took so long… maybe no one ever thought I was worth their time? In any case, if Captain Cunt (or anyone for that matter) would care to write something a bit more intelligent defending emo or attacking me or whatever (music-related of course), I’d happily print it. I edit for spelling & punctuation. Some-times grammar. 
Alex
Toth, All-American Western #114; c. 1953
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Wig Wam Bam (by Captain America PO BX 4865 Albq NM 87196 captainamerica1941@hotmail.com) |
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| Wig
Wam Bam is written by Captain
America | po box 4865 | albuquerque, nm 87196 |
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