Ruckus Live: Figurines

Schuba's Tavern
October 23, 2006
(Click on pictures to enlarge.)


When Figurines' first American release, Skeleton, pillaged its way into the States like a Viking warlord last March, it immediately became one of my new favorite albums. I played the crap out of it... Had it been the year, 1973, and it was on vinyl, I would have had to buy three copies due to excessive scratching. It just never got old. Even after all of these months, Skeleton still remains one of my favorite releases of 2006.

Ever since that day, deep down inside, I just knew that Figurines would be an amazing live band. It's just one of those things that really shines through on their studio album. I mean, for months, I would sit at home and constantly check various websites while praying to the Indie Rock Gods that Figurines would play a US tour, and, finally, one day my prayers were answered. PitchforkMedia.com announced a Figurines US tour, and in an even further act of appretiation from the Indie Music Gods, they would be playing Chicago just a few weeks after I had moved there; just in time to see them blow out Schuba's Tavern.

I'm going to start off by saying that this was the best live set that I have ever seen from a band. I'm not going to call it the best concert ever, due to a lack of supporting cast, but still, it was definitely the best single performance from a band that I have ever bore witness to. All of the elements were present; the stars aligned, if you will. A small, intimate, venue - a band that I love - a great crowd - a well thought out and orchestrated set list - live twists on several songs - seriously, what more can you ask for?

The show began with lead singer/guitarist, Christian Hjelm, on stage alone as he performed an acoustic guitared out version of the album's opener - a piano ballad entitled, Race You. (Which, on a side note, will always make me giggle a little bit due to Chris Walker Vs. The Amazing Race.) Then, the rest of the band joined him on stage to play Silver Ponds, at the end of which, Hjelm traded in his acoustic guitar for an electric, announced that, "This concludes the acoustic portion of the set," and then proceeded to rock everyone's face off for the next fifty minutes.

Highlight of the show, for me, definitely had to be the extended-live-jammed out version of Rivalry which blended right into one of my favorite tracks, Wrong Way All the Way. That, and crazy Figurines-Fifth-Man simultaneously playing the guitar, tambourine, keyboard, and laptop.

I really, really, ridiculously hope that Schubas releases this show on eMusic.com soon, so I can share some of the vast awesomeness with you on an audible level.

Amazing band.

Seriously.















Conclusion

The Good:

• This was THE MOST that a group of Norsemen has dominated an American crowd since Leif Erikson landed here in the year, 1000, and proceeded to give the enitre native population syphillis with his beard.

The Bad:

• The aura of Old Spice and Stetson that emitted from openers, The Jet Age.

The Ugly:

• Work at 7:00 in the AM the next morning... Weak.

Figurines, I Told You So, & White Girl Rap.

So, tonight is the show that I have been giddy with delight over for the past month. That's right, Figurines are going to be rocking the face off of Schuba's Tavern. Of course, this means some Ruckus Live action for you... and if the show is as nipple hardeningly good as I expect it to be, I may even post some live mp-thrizzles; yeah, buddy. So, check for that on Wednesday.

* * *


Thanks for making us look like douchebags, Victory!!! Oh, wait, this was taken before we signed with you?

In other news, Hawthorne Heights is apparently suing Victory Records [Full Story]. Although this highly qualifies as "Who-Cares" news in my world (which explains me hearing about it two months later), I feel it's worth mentioning for one sole reason. Apparently, Hawthorne Heights is claiming that, due to Victory Records' excessive tampering with their image, much of their fan base has been alienated. And although I'm sure that their terrible music probably has much more to do with their "lack of fans," I think this whole Victory Records image tampering thing sounds a bit too familiar. Dare I even say, reminiscent, of an editorial I wrote about selling your soul to rock in roll in this days' age. So, go forth, give it a read, and watch me bask in all of my "I called that shit" glory.

Ruckus Maximus: The Devil's Rejects.

* * *

And finally, since white-girl rappers are the vogue thing these days, here's an old SNL video I found of my favorite female rapper.

Take that, Lady Sovereign!

Ruckus (Barely A)live: Maritime

Last night, Maritime played what can only be speculated upon as an amazing set at Chicago's number one hip-hop club, the Subterranean. In addition to people's faces getting melted off with sheer, bottled, indie pop beauty, last night marked a very interesting and shocking historical occasion. No, I'm not talking about the first time that more than fifteen white kids were inside of the Subterranean at the same time (although, it was.) Oh no my friends, last night marked the last time that I will EVER pre-drink for a wine tasting with a bottle of whiskey and then use said wine tasting as a pre-drinking venue for a concert. It's just never going to happen again. If I wasn't the chief editor, sole writer, and only employee of Ruckus Maximus, I probably would have fired myself today. In fact, I think I still may.

Sitting inside of the multi-floored Subterranean, I ordered a beer, drank three sips, and realized I was way too drunk for public, so I decided to go outside for some air. Anyways, one thing led to another, and the next thing I knew, I was semi-lost in a weird area of Southside Chicago. I say "semi-lost" only because I was too drunk to care/panic about it, and I say "weird area" only because I don't know the appropriate racist term. As I wandered around, my hood donned to mask my caucasianess, I started to sober up a little bit and came to the conclusion that I might be in somewhat of a bad situation.

Now, I'm not going to waste my time writing this big, suspenseful, post about my adventures in Ghettoland, because obviously you all know I made it out in one piece, or else I wouldn't have been able to type this up for you--durr. But, in case I've peaked your curiosity, basically, here's what happened. I befriended some black homeless dude, heard his life story, and walked the four miles back to civilization. I bought him a tall can of PBR in some shitty bar, we smoked a pack of Camels, and we pistol-whipped some frat-boys at pool. I then started thinking, "What the hell am I doing?" Maritime is still probably playing down the street! So, I smoke-bombed it the F out of there, walked back to the Sub-T, and discovered that they do not allow re-entry. Son of a bitch...

The only reason I really wrote all this is just to take a second to apologize to everyone who was eagerly awaiting some hot indie pictures today. Luckily, Maritime will be back in Chicago on November 10th, so I'm going to have to take a mulligan on this one.

In the mean time, here's some related readings to tide you over.

• The Trip Wire's review of Maritime playing SXSW this year.
• Chris Walker Versus' Four Track Friday. I wrote it last night, after my disappointing adventure in Maritimeland. It's kind of a fun read, because I had soused myself into retardation.

So, in conclusion, I'm sorry, but not really...
Figurines on Monday--awesome.
And yes, I am, in fact, aware that I may have a drinking problem... but thanks for the concern.

Pet Politics: The Spring EP

My mailbox was magically transformed into a tiny gold Pandora's box of awesomeness today as I opened it to find that Pet Politics' new EP finally arrived from Catbird Records.

Pet Politics is the pseudonym of Swedish one-man-band, Magnus Larsson, and it rocks. Although the enitre disc is only just under fourteen minutes long, it manages to take you on a nostalgic, reverb-heavy, trip down memory lane to a place that you've never been and a time that you can't remember. Amazing. Buy it, it's only three and a half dollars--and damnit, tip the artist the extra buck. That's it.

Pet Polits website. Pet Politics on MySpace. (songs for free download) Order The Spring EP.

Karaoke with The Like

From the same people who brought you the eloquent and simple haiku comes a brand new phenomena; that's right kids, it's KARAOKE! It takes everything that you love about your favorite songs, strips it naked, and punches it in the testicles. Fun for the entire family! Anyways, here's some video of The Like performing some good, down-home, quality, drunken karaoke--well, at least I hope it was drunken.

Highlights Include:

• Shots of the disgusted "super-serious-and-into-karaoke" crowd


• The first time an Ashley Simpson song has ever been performed live without the use of a lip synched vocal track.


• and... "No dog's body!!!!!!!!"

Ruckus Live: Art Brut, We Are Scientists, & Spinto Band

The Metro
October 12, 2006
(Click on pictures to enlarge.)

If I had to use only one word to collectively describe all three of the bands that blew out the Metro on Thursday night, it would be alcohol. But since alcohol isn't exactly an adjective or even really a very descriptive word, we'll go with: "Energy." Art Brut and We Are Scientists are two bands that have pretty much based their entire musical careers around their live performances. I mean, when you see their names printed across the top of your ticket, you just know that you're in for a treat... but it's not merely the catchy post-punk sing-a-longs and witty onstage banter that you have to look forward to, oh no my friends, they bring much, much more to the stage--like costumes.

But, before the two headliners would have the chance to get their rock on, the Chicago crowd would first be greeted by Spinto Band--a powerpop group from Delaware that ranges from six to seven members, depending upon which night you see them. Their music kind of reminds me of the type of catchy tunes that emo kids would get down to now that emo's not that popular anymore... Not really my thing, but they do bring a lot of energy and presence to the stage. So, if you're into like, Hellogoodbye, or The Academy Is..., or whatever, you should probably check them out. They scored points for playing kazoos on stage, but lost points for not making a single, "Hi, we're from Delaware..." joke.

Pod-Cast: Chris Cain drunk-dialing/interviewing/snarking intellectual with Spinto Band. Just copy (http://wearescientists.com/podcast.xml), into your iTunes, or whatever you use.







Next up was, We Are Scientists. Rather than going into a lengthy dissertation on how much I like this band and how awesome bassist, Chris Cain's, mustache is, I'm just going to say that if We Are Scientists come to your town, go fucking see them... seriously. See how I drop an unasterisked "F-Bomb" just so you can see how serious I am? Yeah... do it.

The theme of their set tonight was, "Band mash-ups." They invited the Spinto Band dancers on stage with them to perform a We Are Scientists'ed out version of Bang Bang Rock & Roll, and, for their final song, they were joined on stage by Art Brut lead guitarist, Ian Catskilkin, who leant his best Eddie Van Halen impression to Keith Murray's guitar. Aside from that, they played all the favorites from With Love and Squalor with CD-quality precision, and kept the atmosphere light with Keith Murray and Chris Cain's humorous, self-deprecating, verbal sparring.

Download: Inaction





Okay, hold on. I realize that I should probably throw a little bit of exposition about Chris Cain's ensemble here. In case you were wondering, yes, that is a pink jumpsuit with a lightning bolt on the chest. And yes, the button does say, "Moustache Rides: Ladies - $1.00, Boys - $1.50, Keith - Free." He claims that there is some elaborate bet going on where he has to wear it for two weeks straight. Now, I use the word, "claims," because after he explained all of this, lead singer/guitarist, Keith Murray, looked surprised and said, "Oh, so it's a bet now? Well then, what do you get if you win?" To which Cain could only reply, "Oh ya? Well, why don't you tell everybody what's up with the fruity little handkerchief around your neck." Okay, anyways, back to the pictures...











I really only have six words and one semi-colon to say about the final act of the night; "Art Brut; Top of the Pops." It seems like all over the internet, various music magazines, and even your little sister's diary, you constantly read about how awesome the live Art Brut experience is. I mean, it's received so much praise, that it's almost impossible to goto an Art Brut show without momumental expectations, and let me tell you... Thursday's show did not let me down one bit.

Charismatic frontman, Eddie Argos, holds command of the stage with a certain, "As Long as I have this microphone, you will listen to every damn word I have to say," swagger, and when you combine that with Art Brut's catchy punk riffs, sing-a-long choruses, and more pop-culture references than an episode of Best Week Ever, you're left with an amazing live experience. I know I seem to be saying this about every band that I've seen lately, but, if you have the chance: GO SEE THIS BAND!

That's all.

Download: Good Weekend


















Conclusion

The Good:

• Smartbar after party, free admission, $2 PBR's, 'nuff said.

The Bad:

• Confused Emo kids shouting, "Play Blitzkrieg Bop!!!"

The Ugly:

• A suspicious odor wafting forth from the direction of a certain unwashed, pink jumpsuit."

Monsieur Argos had just bought me a shot of Jagermeister... I was apparently just a little bit psyched about it.

Ruckus Live: TV on the Radio & Grizzly Bear

The Metro
October 09, 2006
(Click on pictures to enlarge.)

If ever there was a scene that encompassed the word, "ruckus," to the letter, this was it. Wrigleyville was overflowing with a patchworked crowd of people as hordes of hipsters, punk rockers, twee kids, breakdancers, the bohemian, and the genuinely homeless, alike, all came out in full force to see TV on the Radio and Grizzly Bear play a sold out show at the Metro. Chaos ensued...

There were people flowing into and out of the surrounding bars like herds of cattle at a slaughtering house. Dozens of disappointed kids lined the sidewalks in a desperate attempt to hunt for an extra ticket. I think somebody even got murdered... seriously. As I came walking up, paramedics were loading somebody into an ambulance and police were loading somebody else into a paddywagon; I did the math. Now, I wasn't planning on boozing at last night's show, due to an interview I had early this morning, but I think that, in a sober state, I definitely wouldn't have been able to enjoy the show and deal with the circus of people at the same time... so I took one for the team, pounded a few PBR's and shots at my favorite Wrigleyville bar, the Gingerman, and went in.

Grizzly Bear took the stage first and played most of their new record, Yellow House. I was a tad disappointed that they didn't play songs from Horn of Plenty, but I suppose it does make more sense for them to play their newer songs. After all, their new material was written by and meant for the new full Grizzly Bear band, while their earlier work was just two guys with a ton of instruments and looping equipment. Either way, Grizzly Bear tore through an amazing live set. There is so much musical talent floating around in that band, it's scary... if you ever have the chance to see them, do it.

Download: Don't Ask (Final Fantasy Remix)











Unfortunately, during the break in between sets, I realized that alcohol, plus metabolism, does in fact equal urination, and apparently, while I was in the bathroom, a bajillion more people came in from outside. So, needless to say, it was near impossible to fandangle myself a spot to even see the stage, let alone take quality pictures of the headliners, TV on the Radio. So, basically, I played around with my camera's filters and zoom settings, snapped a few shitty shots, and then went upstairs and proceeded to get exceptionally soused for the rest of the show.

The balcony turned out to actually be pretty cool though; the sound carried well up there, the bar was less crowded, and I got to exchange a few words/cocktails with Ed Droste--cool guy. As for TV on the Radio, I don't know if it's something about the way they sound live, or the way they sound when you're really hammered, but you really connect with their music when you hear it in person. The rhythmic aspect of it--especially on songs from Return to Cookie Mountain--translates into a soulful, almost shamanistic, experience that isn't felt when you listen to it at home (and/or really sober.) So, if you're one of those people that, "Doesn't get," TV on the Radio, check out their live show--you might be surprised.

Download: Wolf Like Me











Conclusion

The Good:

• Watching a lone, jewfro'ed intern/roadie stock the stage with water, Redbull, and booze in between sets while the theatrical score of Star Wars blared out of the Metro's fifteen foot speakers.

The Bad:

• Driving to the Metro, only to find out that the closest parking spot was the one in front of my house.

The Ugly:

• Troves of NYC hipsters saying, "Brooklyn represent!"

Awesome show... way too drunk for public.

Ruckus Live: Sunset Rubdown

Logan Square Auditorium
October 06, 2006
(Click on pictures to enlarge.)

As I walked into the Logan Square Auditorium, my head has heavy with questions... Would local Chicago band, Office, live up to the serious buzz about them? Will Spencer Krug's live show be as spot on and charismatic without the rest of Wolfparade on stage? Who the hell is Beaver? There was certainly a lot left in the air about this show, but soon all the answers would be revealed--except where the f*** I parked my car.

Office took the stage first in front of a fairly decent sized crowd, considering they were the early band. Apparently, their appearance at Lollapalooza this year had really given them some Chicagoland street cred. On a nationwide level, you may also have heard of Office on iTunes in The Indie Spotlight.

Whichever the case, there was a definite hype to their set... and when they hit the stage, they didn't disappoint. Their particular breed of dancy indie poprock, which is much more guitar driven live than it is on the recordings, had the kids dancing and the hipsters standing arms crossed, heads bobbing in approval. They're certainly worth checking out, so go fire up iTunes and give their new LP, Q&A, a listen.

Download: Bar Yellow





Next up was Beaver, which turns out, is not a band's name, but rather a guy's name. Let me just say that everybody's group of friends has someone named Beaver in it, and that guy is pretty much always a big, crazy, beer-drinkin' sonuvabitch. Spencer Krug is no exception. And this is how Beaver landed a spot as the opening act on the Sunset Rubdown tour, despite the lack of any media, recordings, publicity, or merch in support of the Beaver phenomena. Although I do suspect that several cases of Molsen Ice were involved.



This is about the point of the show where most of the kids went outside to smoke. I however, decided to stick around for a couple of songs. By the way, Beaver rocks out some pretty decent acoustic folk rock, if you care. Unfortunately, I was only able to hear about half of his set, as I had to go to the wine bar next door to refuel for the headliner.

Once the roadies got done toweling up all of the Beaver sweat--I'm just kidding! (They didn't clean it up) It was time for Sunset Rubdown to take the stage, and let me just start off by saying that, not only do these guys rubdown some serious sunsets, they also rock some serious faces.

No joke, the Sunset Rubdown live experience is both captivating and haunting; I highly recommend going if it ever comes to your town. The only low point of the night was when the venue's equipment shorted out right at the beginning of Sunset Rubdown's set, but the band managed to keep the crowd entertained by pretending to start songs, only to realize that they were all playing the wrong instruments, accidently singing into a beer bottle instead of a microphone, and other such drunken shenanigans. That, and giving a five minute dissertation on how awesome Spencer Krug's new moustache is, yes, shows definitely need more speeches about moustachary. Once the technical difficulties were taken care of, Spencer strapped on his trusty headband and led his troupe through an amazing set.

Download: They Took a Vote and Said No





Conclusion

The Good:

• The exceedingly hot Office keyboardist.

The Bad:

• The Logan Square Auditorium's bar being "out of whiskey."

The Ugly:

• Puddles of excessive Beaver sweat shorting out the stage's electrical system.