Lee “Scratch” Perry. The Upsetter. A Grammy award winning, seminal Jamaican reggae producer whose innovative production techniques redefined reggae music as we know it. And he graced the stage with the Subatomic Sound System at the Santa Monica Pier for the Twilight Concert Series. Wow.
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At 78 years old, I was impressed with how spry and energetic the Upsetter was. Performing some classic reggae tunes (i.e. “Sun Is Shining”) and doing his best to jump around the stage (literally), he got the crowd feeling irie. If the weed in the air was any indication, the crowd was definitely plenty irie. lol.
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I do have to admit, I was a little surprised with some of what he was singing/speaking towards the end of the set. He spent several minutes singing about how much he “loves white pussy”. I wasn’t sure where it came from, but he was preaching it to the crowd. He also mentioned how much he loved the white man for “paying his bills.” I saw a few confused faces in the crowd.
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Perhaps, his biggest “rant” came at the very end where repeatedly insisted that “hip-hop was dead, reggae is live.” Perhaps, making reggae loving hip-hop heads in the crowd a bit uncomfortable. Well, they don’t call him The Upsetter for nothing.
With 13 members in its collective, Mexico68 is an afrobeat band that does it right. Their tight-knit sound, and superb energy, really lifted the audience’s spirit, and had many in the crowd dancing to their sounds. Personally, I’m a huge fan a large, and loud, horn sections. They had 7 horns playing that evening, and I absolutely loved it.
Their brand of afrobeat, heavily influenced with Chicano funk, really got my music juices flowing. I would definitely go out of my way to see them perform if I’m craving that kind of music. You should too.
This is the “Homepage” for the links to all of the blog entries posted about the acts I was able to catch at First City Festival, August 23 and 24, 2014. Below are links to Instagram video posts, photos and some brief thoughts about each band that I was able to enjoy in beautiful Monterey.
To read my “Love Letter” to First City Festival CLICK HERE.
When I was approved to shoot The Zombies at the Santa Monica Pier, I was giddy. Being a supreme music dweeb, I was fully aware of their impact in popular music. Their sound basically redefined rock music.
I’d try to wax poetic about how amazingly (and truthfully, surprisingly) they performed on the summer eve, but Bob Lefsetz, a noted music writer, already wrote everything, and more, that I would have not so eloquently put pen to pad. CLICK HERE to read his stellar review.
The fact that two of the original members, Colin Blunstone and Rod Argent, both 69, are still in prime form was wonderful to witness. If you weren’t there, you missed out on a legendary performance, or legendary music, by legends. Your loss.
With the distinct honor of opening for the legendary The Zombies, Mystic Braves took the stage and served up a worthy appetizer of psychedelic rock to the masses. Now based in Echo Park, and signed to local label Lolipop Records, this band’s live performance, with their organ tinged sound, made me imagine what it would have been like if I had been alive to attend a Doors concert.
Band members Julian Decatenzeiler, Tony Malacara, Cameron Gartung, Shane Stotsenberg and Ignacio Gonzalez seamlessly played their brand of surf/garage rock with gusto and left the audience ready for the main course.
About a year ago, a buddy of mine forwarded me a soundcloud link of a band based out of Seattle named Reignwolf. Knowing that he had good taste in music, I opened the link and and this song played:
Whoa. I was like, “Where did this come from, and why don’t I know anything about them?” I quickly remedied that problem. I started following them on Facebook and found out that Reignwolf was Jordan Cook. I started watching videos of his live solo performances on Youtube, and I was hooked. I had missed out on his performance opening for Black Sabbath at the Hollywood Bowl due to a prior engagement, but when I found out he was headlining a show at the Troubadour, I logged on and bought tickets as soon as they went on sale. I’m glad I bought them when I did, since the tickets for the gig sold out.
Before Reignwolf took the stage, the anticipation was palpable. Accompanied by David T. Rapaport on bass and Joseph Braley on drums, Jordan took the stage to loud cheers. The music started and the rock had commenced.
It was as good a live show as I’ve ever seen. In fact, I’d say that is was the best club gig I’ve seen this year.
With Jordan bouncing around the stage, off the drum kit, and into the audience, the energy was frenetic. He kept the audience guessing as to what was coming next, taking control of the set by ripping out a jaw-dropping performance of “Electric Love” solo, playing the guitar and drums simultaneously, and by playing a song in the audience, using his logo emblazoned bass drum as a pedestal.
Midway through the set, I looked over to a friend I had invited to the show to see if she was doing all right. She didn’t have to say anything. Her mouth was agape, and her eyes were fixated on Jordan, with a “what’s the hell am I witnessing right now” look. Yeah, she was enjoying herself.
When Reignwolf came back to the stage for their encore, Jordan humbly expressed how lucky he was to be playing in the legendary venue. He mentioned how all of his music idols had once played at the Troubadour, and how he was sincerely appreciative of the chance to do the same. He then slyly looked around the room, pointed to the upstairs balcony area, and announced to the audience that though his sound guy wouldn’t appreciate it, he wanted to play up there.
Dragging his amp up to the rafters, he seated himself on the balcony railing, anchored by fans who made sure he wouldn’t fall. The crowds’ frenzy reached it pinnacle. At this point, even MY jaw was on the floor. It was definitely a first for me, and most likely a first for the Troubadour. I’ll not soon forget what I was witness to that evening at the Troubadour, because that show … seriously … was the stuff of legend.
As much as enjoyed the show, I’ll be honest, I wasn’t all that happy with the photos that I snapped. I think part of the problem was that I was moving to the music too much while snapping pics (most of my shots were blurry). Also, I honestly think that the music being so good, I was distracted and missed moments when lights saturated the room. What can I say? It really couldn’t be helped. I was just having too much god-damn fun with the music. Hopefully, I’ll get another chance to redeem myself at some point. Ya hear me, Reignwolf? I want to shoot you again!!!
There’s nothing I love doing more on a beautiful summer’s eve than catching a show, any show, at the Hollywood Bowl.
As luck would have it, a dear friend of mine had an extra ticket for her box seat in the terrace for Iron & Wine, The Head and the Heart and Glen Hansard. It would be my first Hollywood Bowl show of 2014, and it couldn’t have been a more sublime soundtrack for a summer’s eve feast under a Super Moon.
Opening the concert was Sam Beam aka “Iron & Wine”. I last saw Iron & Wine perform Halloween at the Orpheum Theatre. For that concert, he was backed by a full band, and played a set that was over two hours long. This time, it was just him and his guitar.
He joked with the audience that he was “dinner entertainment” as everyone in the audience was busy unpacking their picnic baskets to dine. Though the audience may have been a little distracted consuming food, it was hard not be entranced by Sam’s beautiful folk melodies.
In between songs, when audience members up in the privileged pool and orchestra sections began yelling out song titles, he joked with the audience that, “you get one, I get one,” though I’m not sure he really took the suggestions yelled from the audience.
His performance was much more subdued than the performance I saw at the Orpheum, but it worked well to exhibit the nuances of his music, especially the tender, emotional sentiments phrased in his lyrics. So powerful was his music, that by the end of his short set, the rustling of paper bags, plastic dinnerware, and the idle dinner chatter, subsided, as the audience was moved, literally, to silence when he finished his set. You could hear a pin drop. Chills. Wonderful chills.
I first saw The Head and the Heart perform at Coachella a few years back. They caught my attention then, and I had a few songs that I was hoping to hear.
A Seattle based band, The Head and Heart’s folk revival is influenced by Americana, country-rock and pop. Their performance this time around seemed to be much looser and more self-assured from what I remembered at Coachella. They brought an energy to the Bowl that really got the crowd excited.
They expressed their sincere disbelief that they were sharing the Hollywood Bowl stage with Iron & Wine and Glen Hansard, when they closed with my favorite song of theirs “Rivers and Roads”.
I went to the restroom after The Head and the Heart finished their set, and on my in, I noticed a familiar face pass by me. It was Chris O’ Dowd, the actor who plays the police officer/romantic interest in “Bridesmaids”. Seeing him walk by me, I figured that there were a whole lot of Irish celebrities in the audience.
When Glen Hansard took the stage, he walked to center stage by himself, armed with just his acoustic guitar, and ripped into a phenomenal cover of Van Morrison’s “Astral Weeks.” When I say phenomenal, it’s no exaggeration. I was floored by his intense energy.
The rest of his set was a collection of original songs and covers, demonstrating his ability to take any song and make it his own. A highlight of the evening was when he performed one of the wildly popular tunes from his motion picture “Once”, “When Your Mind’s Made Up”.
I was hoping that Marketa Irglova would have made a special appearance (it IS the Hollywood Bowl, after all), but no luck.
The only criticism of the concert was that it was just too damn short. With the Hollywood Bowl strictly adhering to it’s 10pm curfew, Glen acknowledge to the audience that he had lost track of time, and that he was, unfortunately, out of it, promising that he’d come back and do a proper three hour show.
He closed with a traditional Irish folk song, “The Auld Triangle” and, lo and behold, he called up Chris O’Dowd to sing a verse with him up on stage. Thereafter, Sam Beam and The Head and the Heart each took turns singing verses with Glen to end the concert in a rousing fashion.
Though I wish he would have performed “Falling Slowly” (I have a really personal connection to that tune), and though I wish Glen’s set could have been longer, it was a perfect show for my first concert at the Hollywood Bowl for 2014.
I tried to get photo pass for this concert, but I wasn’t approved. The photos below were taken with my pocket-sized Sony Cybershot G.
It took me about 5 seconds to regret my decision not to dress up for Lady Gaga. I’d actually started – putting on a shiny velvet tank top, digging out costume jewelry, and getting out my lime-green faux fur jacket – but then I decided I was showing a lot of skin. Clearly, I had no idea what “a lot of skin” meant. The standard Lady Gaga audience look (for both genders) seemed to have required a stop at a West Hollywood “adult” store: cheek-bearing booty shorts, tiny bikini tops, teddies, and either 5-inch heels or shoes my friend called “tie-dyed Yeti.” I could have taken off my shirt and still had on more clothes than the people around me. Actually, I could have taken off my jeans, too, and stayed more conservative than a lot of the audience. Instead, I doubled down and put on my two coats, staying warm but looking ready to attend a Midwestern football game in November. As the lights dimmed I found myself wishing my recent visit to the specialty light bulb store had focused less on my halogen lamp and more on wearable lighting.
We’d arrived to hear the end of a DJ set that involved so much flashing light that I wasn’t sure if I’d end up hypnotized or developing epilepsy. It felt like we’d walked into an early-90s rave – all we needed was a whistle and a mini backpack (and the Teletubby-esque dancers later on were sporting exactly that). Just in case we hadn’t made the connection, “ArtRave” flashed wildly on the screens above the stage.
Lady Gag as Ursula, complete with tentacled backside.
Overall, the production values were low for an ostensibly lavish tour. As Dolly Parton says, “it costs a lot of money to look this cheap.” The lighting washed out the performers, and props included beach balls like the ones the ushers confiscate at Dodger Stadium. Inflatables that popped out of the stage seemed like a cross between Russian onion domes and those cheap paper Christmas trees that grow crystals when you get them wet. The stage curtain looked like it had been stitched together from white garbage bags, and the main set reminded me of the design my friend once cobbled together when all the director would tell her was that it should be “puffy and white.” With its lumpy blobs and ring-shaped piano, it also bore more than a passing resemblance to the Mos Eisley cantina. In the end, the whole evening felt like a cross between a visit to an upscale S&M club and an acid trip.
The costuming ran the gamut from the powder blue, tentacled Ursula look to a style my friend compared to Mufasa but that I thought made Lady Gaga look like she’d run off with Amy Winehouse’s (bleached) beehive. Though she had some impressive footwear, she managed to avoid falling off of her shoes this time. Throughout the evening, there was a long string of elaborate costume and wig changes, including a time she dramatically tore off her wig onstage and another point when she did the full change in full view of the audience.
S&M club prancing dancers? There was no danger they’d fall off the stage with that much glow along the edges.
Over and over, there were moments that were supposed to celebrate the “authentic self” but instead reeked of artifice. Each gesture and comment seemed forced and almost robotic: the double-middle-finger to the audience, calls to “grab a glow stick or get the F*** out,” and comments about how “looking good and being successful are two different things” ended up falling flat. At one point, it looked like she was trying to reenact the balcony scene from Evita. And who knew you could spend an entire evening doing butt poses? My friend summed up the evening perfectly, riffing on one of Lady Gaga’s lines: “Tonight we celebrate love. Tonight, we celebrate pretentiousness (oh sorry, ‘being our authentic selves’ by swearing and flipping people off). Tonight we celebrate Lady Gaga’s a**.”
Overall, it was hard to shake the impression that she just wasn’t having fun. Like Rihanna had done, she smashed some of her biggest hits into one power medley – getting over with “Just Dance,” “Poker Face,” and “Telephone” as fast as she could. There weren’t backup singers, so the backing track was glaringly obvious: often, she didn’t bother holding the microphone near her face or pretending to sing. She’d apparently lifted a page from Kanye – her small-stage piano looked like a mini Fortress of Solitude, she wandered around in white outfits on a white stage (making her hard to see), and she launched into a series of increasingly pretentious rants. Like Jay-Z and Justin Timberlake, her production team had included a VIP bar area (complete with highly visible branding). We kept expecting her to jump into the bar and join the crowd for a cocktail, but she never did anything that felt remotely spontaneous or – for all her talk – genuine.
Children’s theater dance line meets Los Eisley cantina?
At the end of the evening, the crowd spilled out of the (very smoky) Staples Center, highlighting the fact that the people watching was the best part of the event. Surrounded by drag queens and a wide range of fabulous fans, it was like we’d walked into an all-night pride parade. The crowd obviously had more fun glamming up that Lady Gaga did performing. I love cheese and all things artificial, but in the end, Lady Gaga was outperformed by the Kia hamsters.
In conjunction with G’Day USA, the Twilight Concert series presented “Australia Rocks The Pier”.
The headliner for the evening was the killer Australian band Jagwar Ma. I first got to see them perform at Coachella, and after my time in the photo pit expired, I made it a point to keep up with their music because I was duly impressed.
When I found out that they were scheduled to perform at the Santa Monica Pier, I circled the date in my calendar. Seriously … I was pumped to see a full set. In fact, being a music dweeb, I even lugged my LP of “Howlin” (their debut album) to the pier on the off chance that I could get some of the fellas to sign it.
Their set was terrific. They basically played their entire album (excluding “Did You Have To” and “Backwards Berlin”), and even threw in a couple covers. I was especially impressed with their cover of Nirvana’s “All Apologies”. It was unexpected, but truly great to hear.
When Terrace Martin invited me to his gig at The Troubadour opening for Snarky Puppy, lord knows that I couldn’t turn that down, especially when he mentioned that Robert Glasper would be joining him. Terrace Martin, Snarky Puppy AND Robert Glasper in one night at a legendary performance venue? Hell, yeah, I was going.
I arrived at the venue relatively early. Knowing that it was a sold out show, waiting in line would be the only way I could get up front with my camera to take pictures. After all, the lighting in The Troubadour makes it a tough venue to shoot in. Unfortunately, for me, there were about a hundred other people already in line by the time I got in line.
There isn’t much I can say about how dope Terrace’s set was. After all, I’ve already seen him perform twice this year (once at the Virgil in January and again at the Del Monte Speakeasy in February), and I’ve already preached how seriously amazing his live shows have been, so I won’t get into here. His music, and his musicality in interpreting jazz classics, is what modern jazz should aspire to be. As far as I’m concerned, he’s an ambassador of the West-Coast Jazz movement that I’ve noticed gained traction recently.
Though I usually never convert my photos to black and white, I had to in this instance. The lighting was so low in the venue, the only way I could get some of the images I liked to really pop was to convert them. Though I’m much more partial to having the photos presented in their natural light, without some really high end (and expensive!) photo gear, this was the best I could do. I took pretty decent pics of Cody Chesnutt’s performance at the Troubadour, but I was up in the front for that gig. I guess, with the gear that I’ve got, I’ll have to get up closer to the stage for good pics. You live and you learn.
#DKLPHOTOS 