RECOMMENDED

Settling in to hear any of Glenn Jones’ solo albums (he’s up to four with “The Wanting” being the latest entered into his catalog), it’s easy to lose track of what’s playing. Is it old or new? Something you’ve heard before? Between 2004 and now, Jones, who initially came to prominence with Boston’s Cul de Sac, has laid waste to finger-styled antecedents, adding his own personal graces along the way. “Of Its Own Kind” and the song’s title hint at that concept. On its surface, the composition isn’t detached from the Takoma school of guitar players with a lazy drone that feels only slightly different than work from earlier players. Maybe lazy isn’t the right word, but rather all-knowing or well-fitted. Read the rest of this entry »

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The term motorik gets tossed around with relative abandon in reference to the handful of ensembles that use German psychedelia dating from the mid-sixties through the latter portion of the seventies as a template. For some, the idea’s a succinct way to describe a precise, up-and-down style of drumming used in acts like Can and on the rock-related releases from Kraftwerk. Ralf and Florian aside, Chicago’s Cave can’t escape descriptions of its subtly nuanced percussion style. Issuing “Neverendless,” the title itself a wink and nod to the endless derivations possible on a single theme, isn’t set to distance the Missouri-cum-Chicago group from any expectations. These five songs, the shortest being just this side of four minutes, continue the band’s commitment to spinning out an idea for as long as possible amidst some group improv bolstered by Rex’s drum kit. Read the rest of this entry »

Photo: Piper Ferguson

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Otis Redding might still be the most recognizable voice and face affiliated with Memphis’ Stax imprint, but there’s not another musician who better exemplifies the label’s sound than keyboardist Booker T. Jones. He, along with guitarist Steve Cropper, laid out the ground-work for later confluences of jazz, blues, funk and soul music as the main songwriters in Booker T. & the MG’s. Functioning as the Stax house band and backing up a wealth of singers, the MG’s slunk their way into the American consciousness for the better part of two decades. Read the rest of this entry »

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If your fame’s largely based on brief appearances in that Ben Stiller movie properly pairing cum and hair, it might be a bummer. Compounding fate’s odd sense of humor, if your sidemen go on to perform with the Talking Heads, the Cars and Arthur Russell, your own solo career might also be a bummer. Unless you’re Jonathan Richman.

Wrangling production assistance from the likes of Kim Fowley and John Cale while still attempting to make the Modern Lovers a viable rock band, Richman somehow ingratiated himself to the rock cognoscenti to the extent that innovation no longer mattered at all. His music, in some ways, has regressed since the heady times yielding stunning, if not stilted, compositions like “She’s Cracked” and “I’m Straight,” the latter occasionally functioning as a vehicle for chastising bassist Ernie Brooks for his indulgence in weed.

Moving past the obvious Lou Reed guitar-apprenticeship, Richman’s worked in folksier terms since the mid-seventies, issuing countless long-playing albums and clocking just about no chart success. Remaining something of a cult hero based on his first band’s combination of rock stuffs, art-world placating, and overly personal lyrics, Richman tours regularly, doesn’t give interviews and apart from actually performing seems to shun everything related to having a show-business career. But that’s what the man does. There might not be a more distinctive or singular personality treading similar territory. Surely, he’s aware of the Modern Lovers’ historical cache, which partially allows for such anti-social behaviors. No excuses need be made for a man capable of turning in variegated lines like, “Eat shit and get stoned” or “I go to bakeries all day long/There’s a lack of sweetness in my life.” That’s pop genius. (Dave Cantor)

May 8 at the Hideout, 1354 West Wabansia, (773)227-4433. 8pm. $18.

It’s not surprising that the thirteen new songs on The Beets’ “Stay Home” don’t come off as significantly different from anything the Beets released a few years back on “Spit On The Face Of People Who Don’t Want To Be Cool.” That’s not the point of playing in a band like this. Instead, guitarist and singer Juan Wauters, along with bassist Jose Garcia, want to tackle tough issues like girls, hanging out and puking by using familiar musical constructions. Working with Captured Tracks for both of its full-lengths has granted the Beets a sympathetic outlet for its purposefully simple, acoustic-guitar-led sing-alongs.

“We released stuff with Captured Tracks, because Mike (Sniper, label honcho as well as the brains behind Blank Dog) wanted to put out the record we were selling on CD-Rs,” says Garcia via email. “Since then, he puts out generally anything we want. And we’re allowed to do any artwork we want for the record. That’s really important to us.” Read the rest of this entry »

Mondo Drag

By David Wicik

When the average person hears the phrase “psychedelic music,” their mind most likely wanders back to the sixties of Timothy Leary, when Brian Wilson began writing his LSD trips into the fabric of “Pet Sounds” and the drug references were even less ambiguous on the Beatles’ “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band” (to say nothing of the legendary acid-laced headband of Jimi Hendrix). Some few may even point back to the early progenitors, bands like the Holy Modal Rounders, The 13th Floor Elevators and Sweden’s Pärson Sound. In other words, for most, psychedelic music is a thing of the past, the legacy of a lost generation.

People like Drew Kettering, however, are trying hard to fight against that prevailing notion, to prove that psychedelic music is alive and well today. This year marks the second anniversary of The Chicago Psych Fest at the Hideout, an annual festival showcasing local and regional psychedelic acts. Kettering, who plays in local psych combo Great Society Mind Destroyers, started it when he noticed that, while psychedelic rock had a strong and diverse presence in the community, it had little definition as a community itself. “Me and some of my friends were interested in bringing together the psychedelic community that Chicago has and to showcase our different styles and takes on it.” Read the rest of this entry »

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Local singer-songwriter Brad Smith was asked by Jason Reitman to write a song for the George Clooney-starring “Up in the Air.” “Help Yourself,” the soulful, somber tune Smith penned, is played over one of the more memorable moments in the film, and it’s such the sort of name-making moment for an artist that it’s surprising Smith isn’t already playing larger venues than Hideout. The song, a multi-vocal ballad driven by a beautifully finger-picked acoustic guitar, is a bit of a combo of Elliott Smith and sixties pop—a strong introduction, to be sure. Smith’s record, “Love is Not What You Need,” is a decent pop record that features more elements than “Help Yourself”—especially keyboard, where Smith takes advantage with some charming sonic touchings. Some of Smith’s material is a little over the top, songs titled “Baby, I’m So Sad” and “Everyone Knows That I’m Still in Love with You,” tough mountains to climb for a soft-spoken vocalist and a lonely guitar. But at its heart, Smith’s material rings with truth. (Tom Lynch)

June 17 at Hideout, 1354 W. Wabansia, (773)227-4433, at 9pm. $8.

RECOMMENDED

Coupleskate’s 2009 record “Don’t Scare the Horses” finds its way into my personal rotation probably more often than it really should, as it soothes the ache I get every six weeks to bathe myself in all-girl alt-rock. (Does that sound disgusting? I think that might sound disgusting.) The Chicago four-piece constructed one hell of a mish-mash of lush pop numbers and punk-influenced frenzies. Coupleskate layers its material methodically and douses it with reverb; the feel is nostalgic, the emotion is real. Singer and guitarist Andrea Bauer makes the most of her primed-for-indie voice and stays ahead of the band’s thunder—in the quieter moments, the sound of the pieces all coming together is serene. I expected Coupleskate to play out a lot more than it did after “Horses” was initially released. I’m glad to see the band hitting the stage again, on this night at Hideout and again in June at Double Door. (Tom Lynch)

May 28 at Hideout, 1354 West Wabansia, (773)227-4433, 10pm. $8.

Credit: Stephen Salyer

RECOMMENDED

Singing in the Abbey, the Chicago chamber-rock group led by vocalist and pianist Annie Higgins, succeeds at the complex and tricky blend of classical music and pop while draping a gothic vale over its sound. “Wake Up, Sardis!” is the band’s debut record, released back in February, and it lives and breathes on Higgins’ deep, haunting voice and swift piano-playing. The band sells itself as a Thom Yorke/Julie Andrews hybrid, and as odd as that sounds, it’s pretty accurate. The string arrangements dreamily complement Higgins’ songs, and one of the best of which, “The Sweetness of Ophelia,” will break you in two with its sweeping grace. While classical piano, string sections and gothic shading may indicate a big production, Higgins and her team manage to keep Singing in the Abbey rather minimalist, simple in a good way, which is no small feat considering all the moving parts. This is music for those who dream under overcast skies. (Tom Lynch)

May 27 at Hideout, 1354 West Wabansia, (773)227-4433, 9pm. $8.

RECOMMENDED

The Brooklyn-based trio These Are Powers deftly combine punk aesthetic with straight-up house beats and experimental digressions, crafting a sound that’s as scary as it is massive. The real superstar here is ex-Liars Pat Noecker’s oppressive bass, dominating textures like a schoolyard bully. Anna Barie’s infectious vocals—cutting and in control, but borderline demented—take a while to comprehend fully, but with time come across with more and more power. The group’s recent record, “All Aboard Future” (Dead Oceans), is a nightmarish jaunt through a rotten candyland, and once you get started, there’s no looking back. Full of short, meaty noise-dance tracks that throw everything at you—beats, live drums, synths galore—plus Noecker’s muscular foundation and Barie’s lyrical slicing, this record would do terrible things to an already damaged mind. A wonderfully deranged sound, These Are Powers invent a dance-floor bleakness sure to make a mess of anyone in the audience. The three-piece often improvises with their electronics as well, but I don’t even want to think about the madness that spawns from that. (Tom Lynch)

March 27 at Hideout, 1354 W. Wabansia, (773)227-4433, at 9pm. $10.