What is it with Yo La Tengo? They seem like such calm, good-hearted, perfectly nice people, and they write such perfectly nice songs. And then they take it to the bridge, and this <i>ungodly<p> cloudhead of rumble and skronk rolls off of the stage and into the audience, and we all get knocked over like skittle pins.
That’s how it felt, at least, last Thursday at Stuart’s Opera House, a 130-year-old community arts center/performance space in Nelsonville, Ohio, where Ira Kaplan, James McNew, and Georgia Hubley brought their powerhouse live show in support of the newly released (and cheekily titled) <i>Popular Songs<p>. Into this intimate and unassuming space tromped the perfectly nice Yo La Tengo... and over the course of two remarkable hours, Kaplan, McNew, and Hubley owned it, killed it, burned it down and built it back up, and then burned it down <i>again<p>. It was immediately recognizable as a momentous show, in every respect--one of those evenings that blows the curve for every other live performance you’re likely going to see.
Nelsonville, Ohio is genuinely quaint like a Frank Capra film, as opposed to threateningly quaint like a David Lynch movie. Stuart’s Opera House, a two-story historical theater with buffed wood floors, full balcony, and box seats, is a great deal less stuffy than that shorthand description might suggest. It’s one of those neighborhood venues that’s airy and brightly painted inside, a venue where local school kids helped to design the lobby’s music-and-local-landscape themed mural, where the downstairs bar serves microbrew, and where the merch table next to Yo La Tengo’s was raffling off a Martin D-18 guitar and selling two-dollar Opera House stickers. In short, it’s a balance of serious art and charming personality, which is as fine a précis for Yo La Tengo’s live show as any I can think of.
The energetic Beatdowns, from up the road in Columbus, opened with a set of Zombies/early Stones-inflected R&B and garage rock, looking as goofy and happy as any bunch of mid-1960s beat-revivalists might, complete with spiffy shoes and hipster specs. The crowd gave them a great reception—they’re local boys, after all, and a tight five-piece combo on any merits—and the band’s giveaway single, “Disconnected Girl”/”Away From The Crowd,” went quickly during the break between sets. (The free single is also available by searching “Beatdowns” on the Columbus Underground website: columbusunderground.com.)
Then the house lights dimmed. The stage backdrop, a giant reproduction of the back-cover artwork for <i>Popular Songs<p>, wafted in a light breeze. And then, without a great sense of occasion or fanfare despite the vigorous reception they received, Yo La Tengo took up positions and opened the show with the slow, atmospheric instrumental “Green Arrow,” from 1997’s <i>I Can Feel The Heart Beating As One<p>.
If you’ve never seen Yo La Tengo play, it’s hard to describe what a genuine sense of humility there is to it all, and how directly that affects the experience of the live show. Here’s a band that can shift from shimmering, vibrato-soaked instrumentals to art-noise workouts without taking a breath, frequently in the same song. And Kaplan, McNew, and Hubley go at it like a job: They come out, they play, they gab with us a little, and they play. They segue from song to song with total confidence—many of the between-song transitions were only looped ride-outs from the previous song—but with absolutely zero attitude or gravitas. Maybe it has to do with hailing from Hoboken as opposed to the Big Shitty: Yo La Tengo portrayed a Velvet Underground-esque band in Mary Harron’s 1996 film <i>I Shot Andy Warhol<p>, but YLT’s approach is less art-house cool than tool-shed work, and you get the impression that none of them think about their poses, or give much of a damn about anything but the sound, for the whole time they’re onstage.
The night was heavy on material from the new record, including shapely pop numbers like the funk-inflected “Occasionally Double Or Triple” and longer, more sprawling workouts. But Yo La Tengo drew liberally from the entirety of their 20-plus-year body of work, including sunshiny tracks like “Yellow Sarong” and “Tom Courtenay” as well as crisp, disturbing songs like “Autumn Sweater,” and full-band noise rave-ups. The liberal approach made for an evening that became a shared celebration of the band, as much as a showcase for their performance chops.
And what a performance it was. Kaplan moved deftly from reverb-soaked slide guitar to squealing guitar solos, taking turns at the Farfisa and keyboard rigs along the way (“Good evening,” he deadpanned, “I’m Bill Evans”). James McNew switched back and forth between bass and guitar like a gunslinger, and sat a turn on drums and percussion briefly. And good lord, Georgia Hubley: The Moe Tucker comparisons became tiresome a while back, but what an arm Hubley’s got—whomping the bass drum with the mallets, kissing the cymbals with the brushes, and beating the mortal shit out of everything around her when McNew and Kaplan go off into high-volume noodling. To observe Yo La Tengo crank the volume was to know the difference between raw power and well-shaped volume, and it was the latter that drove the night. Even with several free-form improvisations knitted into the structure, YLT was never out of control for a second. To be in the hands of an outfit that assured, that skilled, and that happy to make music was a fine thing indeed.
Memories of the evening shatter into happy pieces: Two encores. A burst of stage-front dancing at the end of the night. Audience members who ran the gamut from aging hipsters (and, ahem, nerdly rock journalists) to kids who couldn’t have been more than 18, giddily singing along and snapping pictures. Ira Kaplan, raising his hand at the end of the night, saying, “Thank you. This has been really special.” The two guys up front who yelled “Thank you!” back. We’re all such nice people. Such perfectly nice, perfectly loud people.
If it comes anywhere near you, see this show. You won’t forget it.
--Eric Waggoner
What is it with
Yo La Tengo? They seem like such calm, good-hearted, perfectly nice people, and they write such perfectly nice songs. And then they take it to the bridge, and this
ungodly cloudhead of rumble and skronk rolls off of the stage and into the audience, and we all get knocked over like skittle pins. That’s how it felt, at least, at Stuart’s Opera House, a 130-year-old community arts center/performance space in Nelsonville, Ohio, where Ira Kaplan, James McNew and Georgia Hubley brought their powerhouse live show in support of the newly released (and cheekily titled)
Popular Songs (Matador). Into this intimate and unassuming space tromped the perfectly nice Yo La Tengo, and over the course of two remarkable hours, Kaplan, McNew and Hubley owned it, killed it, burned it down, built it back up, then burned it down
again. It was immediately recognizable as a momentous show, in every respect—one of those evenings that blows the curve for every other live performance you’re likely going to see.
Nelsonville is genuinely quaint like a Frank Capra film, as opposed to threateningly quaint like a David Lynch movie. Stuart’s Opera House, a two-story historical theater with buffed wood floors, full balcony and box seats, is a great deal less stuffy than that shorthand description might suggest. It’s one of those neighborhood venues that’s airy and brightly painted inside, a place where local school kids helped to design the lobby’s music-and-local-landscape themed mural, where the downstairs bar serves microbrew and where the merch table next to Yo La Tengo’s was raffling off a Martin D-18 guitar and selling $2 Opera House stickers. In short, it’s a balance of serious art and charming personality, which is as fine a précis for Yo La Tengo’s live show as any I can think of.
The energetic
Beatdowns, from up the road in Columbus, opened with a set of Zombies/early-Stones-inflected R&B and garage rock, looking as goofy and happy as any bunch of mid-1960s beat-revivalists might, complete with spiffy shoes and hipster specs. The crowd gave them a great reception—they’re local boys, after all, and a tight five-piece combo on any merits—and the band’s giveaway single, “Disconnected Girl”/”Away From The Crowd,” went quickly during the break between sets. (
Download the free single.)
Then the house lights dimmed. The stage backdrop, a giant reproduction of the back-cover artwork for
Popular Songs, wafted in a light breeze. And then, without a great sense of occasion or fanfare despite the vigorous reception they received, Yo La Tengo took up positions and opened the show with the slow, atmospheric instrumental “Green Arrow,” from 1997’s
I Can Feel The Heart Beating As One. If you’ve never seen Yo La Tengo play, it’s hard to describe what a genuine sense of humility there is to it all, and how directly that affects the experience of the live show. Here’s a band that can shift from shimmering, vibrato-soaked instrumentals to art/noise workouts without taking a breath, frequently in the same song. And Kaplan, McNew and Hubley go at it like a job: They come out, they play, they gab with us a little and they play. They segue from song to song with total confidence—many of the between-song transitions were only looped ride-outs from the previous song—but with absolutely zero attitude or gravitas. Maybe it has to do with hailing from Hoboken as opposed to the Big Shitty: Yo La Tengo portrayed a Velvet Underground-esque band in Mary Harron’s 1996 film
I Shot Andy Warhol, but YLT’s approach is less art-house cool than tool-shed work, and you get the impression that none of them thinks about their poses or gives much of a damn about anything but the sound, for the whole time they’re onstage.
The night was heavy on material from the new record, including shapely pop numbers like the funk-inflected “Periodically Double Or Triple” and longer, more sprawling workouts. But Yo La Tengo drew liberally from the entirety of their 20-plus-year body of work, including sunshiny tracks like “Yellow Sarong” and “Tom Courtenay” as well as crisp, disturbing songs like “Autumn Sweater” and full-band noise rave-ups. The liberal approach made for an evening that became a shared celebration of the band, as much as a showcase for its performance chops.
And what a performance it was. Kaplan moved deftly from reverb-soaked slide guitar to squealing solos, taking turns at the Farfisa and keyboard rigs along the way. (“Good evening,” he deadpanned, “I’m Bill Evans.”) McNew switched back and forth between bass and guitar like a gunslinger and sat a turn on drums and percussion briefly. And good lord, Hubley. The Moe Tucker comparisons became tiresome a while back, but what an arm Hubley’s got—whomping the bass drum with the mallets, kissing the cymbals with the brushes and beating the mortal shit out of everything around her when McNew and Kaplan go off into high-volume noodling. To observe Yo La Tengo crank the volume was to know the difference between raw power and well-shaped volume, and it was the latter that drove the night. Even with several free-form improvisations knitted into the structure, YLT was never out of control for a second. To be in the hands of an outfit that assured, that skilled and that happy to make music was a fine thing indeed.
Memories of the evening shatter into happy pieces: two encores. A burst of stage-front dancing at the end of the night. Audience members who ran the gamut from aging hipsters (and, ahem, nerdly rock journalists) to kids who couldn’t have been more than 18, giddily singing along and snapping pictures. Kaplan, raising his hand at the end of the night, saying, “Thank you. This has been really special.” The two guys up front who yelled, “Thank you!” back. We’re all such nice people. Such perfectly nice, perfectly loud people.
If it comes anywhere near you, see this show. You won’t forget it.
—Eric Waggoner
MAGNET's Maureen Coulter reports from the 2010 Outside Lands Festival in Golden Gate Park.
Sunday, August 15
On day two of Outside Lands, I spent all my free time signing up for contests I’ll never win and nabbing swag I’ll never use. So far the count is two headbands, a neon-colored bandana/scarf, a T-shirt, shampoo, glow-in-the-dark dog tag and a Shrinky Dink. I also ate an entire meal comprised of free samples.
After making rounds at the promo tables, I joined the crowd on the Polo Field and hung out for Janelle Monae. Although she was a half hour late coming on, she made up for her curtailed performance in hair-tossing, hip-swiveling intensity. Monae is a pixie with American Idol-worthy pipes, and her music is spunky and distinctive, like a female Gnarls Barkley.
Having Al Green on the festival ticket may have seemed a bit out of place, but he owned the crowd. Beseeching trumpets and trombones combined with the gospel crooning of his three daughters onstage with him complemented his conversational, raspy voice and expressive hand gestures. He drove the audience wild with a cover of Roy Orbison’s “Pretty Woman” and had them singing, “I’m ... I’m so in love with youuu,” on "Let's Stay Together" as he tossed roses into the flock of middle-aged women with yoga-toned bodies, Ray-Bans and Chuck Taylors.
French pop group Phoenix played an energetic set anchored by a rumbling bass that could have triggered a tectonic shift. Lead singer Thomas Mars roamed around like a hyperactive child, climbing on speakers, bounding offstage and ultimately crowd-surfing. The percussionist whaled on the drums, sweat flying. The burgeoning swarm of shiny, booze-soaked concertgoers equaled Phoenix’s vivacity, showing its stamina even after two straight days of partying.
MAGNET's Maureen Coulter reports from the 2010 
The 2010 
It’s the 31st annual 
It’s the 31st annual 
The first weekend of the 41st annual New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival was, as usual, inspiring and full of surprises.
Friday’s forecast only called for cloudy skies, but constant, driving thunderstorms turned day one into a mud-drenched revelry. Local legend 
The smell of patchouli and incense wafted through the Henry Fonda Theater in Hollywood Tuesday evening. A sold-out crowd enjoyed a night of three offbeat pop/rock acts. Brooklyn-based songstress 
Fans got an earful of indie music at the TLA on Saturday night with headliners 
On a rainy Thursday night, three energetic bands took the stage at Northern Liberties venue Johnny Brenda’s. First up was 
Be honest, Kinks fans. Your first reaction when you heard that 
Hitting the Bottom Lounge stage to the strains of the Tomahawk Chop—by far the coolest use ever for that lame chant, forever ruined by Jane Fonda—Atlanta Braves fans 
The Halloween cover show has become an increasingly popular way for bands to exercise their influences, and Saturday’s benefit for West Philly's People's Emergency Center at Kung Fu Necktie was a glorious resurrection. TV Casualty, fronted by Jersey’s favorite everyman (one of them, anyway) 
Originally, 
If you’ve heard of 
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