We received this rant from one of our friends the morning after Lebron’s “Decision.”  Quite prophetic, like the ESPN.com article Hunter Thompson wrote the morning of 9/11. But enough of the heavy talk.  We felt we had to post this, as everything that’s going to be said about Lebron and his new frenemies (for now) has been said.  But here it is, before anyone actually said it, in a format American readers have a hard-on for.  List format.- CBBFestival.com Editor

D. Tello

Let me start his off by saying that my interest in the NBA in a post-Jordan world has been the same as that of college lacrosse: I’ll pay attention if NOTHING else is on, it is the finals, or a tragedy has occurred. Then, as LeBron started this narcissistic venture that made A-Rod and Tiger look self-aware, rational, and humble, I started to tell my friends 2 things: (1) I hope the Bulls do not get Bron-Bron so no attention is diverted from the Blackhawks, and (2) if he does not sign with the Bulls or Cavaliers, I will never watch the NBA again.

I now take the latter back.  I find myself more into the NBA now than I have since the first week of the Jordan-Wizards debacle.  Why? BECAUSE I F*CKING HATE LEBRON JAMES.  LeBron James just went from loved-superstar to villain faster than Kanye West at an award show.  Mark my words: LeBron’s self-raping of his image may end up the best thing that ever happened to the NBA.  Why?

Americans love to hate.  As much as we love our heros, we hate our villains more.

If LeBron lands in Cleveland on “Decision” night, I don’t end up watching the NBA until the next time Kobe’s in the Finals, taking 1 step closer to Jordan as I wipe away tears with my “Repeat the 3-peat” t-shirt.  With LeBron in Miami, I will now follow the Heat like a Tea-Party member follows Obama.

Obviously, this is a terrible thing for LeBron’s brand/marketing/image/children.  If you wear a LeBron jersey, and you do not live in Miami, you are an asshole.  And apparently not afraid of showing it.

On the contrary, here are the top 5 reasons I think this is great for the NBA:

5. LeBron’s suicide has made the NBA’s best player, Kobe, go from a hated, alleged-sexual-predator, to an adored superstar.  Kobe has to be loving this.  I, like many others (especially in Chicago), hated Kobe up until a couple weeks ago.  Now I find myself saying stuff like “Kobe cares about winning, LeBron only cares about image… and he is just as bad at managing his image as he is at winning (ah-oh).”  If Kobe was A-Rod pre-2010 Free Agency, he is now Jeter. He represents what we like from our superstars – caring more about winning than anything else.  So, NBA, rejoice.  Because when the Lakers go on to win their 6th NBA title this year, Kobe will be hailed a hero rather than someone people loathe having to compare to Jordan.

4. Chris Bosh somehow became a superstar without playing any games.  In the NBA, usually one had to win a Championship or at least an MVP to become a superstar. Chris Bosh has not come close to either.  This can only lead me to conclude that the people that surround Chris Bosh are geniuses.  I imagine his agent/publicist had this conversation with Bosh sometime in June, “Chris, when free agency comes along follow around D-Wade and LeBron like you are equals and no matter what sign on the same team as at least one of them.  If you do this, we can pull the Jedi-mind-trick on all of America and have them believe you are a superstar just like them.”  This plan totally worked.  Bosh’s “team” is the anti-Lebron’s “team.”  Seriously, who has actually seen Bosh play a game in the NBA? He was on the Raptors… in Canada.  This dude went from a guy who comes off the bench in an All-Star game to Tim Duncan circa-2005 without playing a game.  Impressive.  NBA, ESPN is still waiting for its gift-basket for manufacturing you a superstar.

3. NBA has tapped into a new fan-base; Reality-TV fans.  This entire process has teetered into that same world that Reality-TV does:  Reality mixed with editing and partial-scripts.  I just can’t wait for LeBron and Wade’s first drunk hook-up…

2. The Miami Heat have become the most hateable sports team in recent memory.  If you multiplied the hate that sports fans have for Duke, Notre Dame, and the Yankees all together, it would equal 1/2 the hate that all non-Miamians now have for the Heat (side note: I think Miami fans have every right and should be incredibly excited about their team).  The good news for the NBA is that hated teams get watched just as much by their loyal-haters as they do by their loyal-fans.  That is why NBC still carries all of Notre Dame’s home games, and ESPN carries more Duke and Yankees games than all other college basketball and MLB teams combined.  Additionally, LeBron has entered the exclusive level of hated superstar that was previously only occupied by Barry Bonds.  And he didn’t need ‘roids, cheating, perjury, or a chick’s voice to get there. Someone check to see if Pedro Gomez is booked to follow LeBron around next season.  (side note: Pedro Gomez is a clone of 2006 American Idol winner, Taylor Hicks).

1. The Cleveland Cavaliers have reached that level of underdog lovability that is normally reserved for Cinderella-story teams in the NCAA tournament.  Think Bryce Drew’s ’98 Valpo team, Stephon Curry’s ’08 Davidson team, Gonzaga at the turn of the century, and Butler and N. Iowa this past season.  The Cavs have sorta become the modern-day, professional-sports version of the “Hoosiers” from fictional Hickory, IN and the Cavs awesome owner, Dan Gilbert, is like our very own Gene Hackman (Coach Dale in “Hoosiers”).  Now if the Cavs could just find their very own Jimmy Chitwood, a drunk Dennis Hopper, and their own version of the “picket-fence” play to run against Miami next season…

The crowd had no problem waiting around until after 11pm on this Thursday evening to catch The Sleepy Sun playing Chicago’s venerable Double Door. Having work the next day is no proper thought when one has the opportunity to catch such skilled psychedelic rock n’ roll.

The Sleepy Sun are a six-piece band that plays a very interesting style of psychedelic blues-rock. It is entirely, and unabashedly, based on the fundamentals of hallucinatory rock established in San Francisco in the 1960’s. And yet they are of today’s indie movement. It’s not easy to pinpoint down how-or-why that is, but this author finds that while their music is rooted wholly in the past – they way they move (and at time jump) through their music is entirely contemporary.

The Sleepy Sun commenced their show with Marina, off of their second – as well recently released – album, “Fever.” Immediately their male + female vocals stand out as a central, and powerful, live musical tool. By having a fierce, yet wispily angelic, female vocalist – in addition to the guitar wielding male lead-singer – is how this band creates “their sound.” Her microphone was laden with heavy & wide reverb, as well as being incredibly sensitive (this was evident between songs when any noise made near this mic would echoe out into the audience). So by altering how close she sang to the mic, or how on-axis her voice was to the front of the mic; she could control with great minutia how her “verby voice” sounded. It was marvelous to watch her swing her head, and change her distance from the microphone, and hear how it would change the sound of even sustained-echo-wails.

The Sleepy Sun also put on display their ability to present quite loud rock n’ roll that was utterly crisp and also so much an apparent product of honed teamwork. They employ a multitude of quick, at time sudden, transitions between energy, tempo and sometimes genre altogether. Even when these movements happen abruptly, they played through them so calmly and with such little notice, that you become numb to the musical talent being displayed in front of you. In fact the band members often had their eyes closed, or would stare off into nothing, needing not to eye each other whatsoever as they played through their elaborate psychedelic expressions.

The Sleepy Sun, while just having released a new LP, played a few new unreleased tracks. Yet they were best on this night on their 9 min song Sandstorm Woman, which they ended with. Simply put, they played this bewildering blues rock number – that consists of what feels like 4 distinct “movements” of sorts – absolutely sensationally. It’s how they end their album, “Fever” and it was a solid show ender as well.

They played only 9 songs, and while their songs are longer than the average, this author was left wanting much more music; a bittersweet feeling to leave an audience member with. More focus could have been given to the male lead singer, his vocals often being drowned out – which was the sole aspect of the performance that felt unbalanced. So while maybe one of those opening bands could have been sacrificed for more Sleepy Sun time, it was overall a thoroughly satisfying rock experience for all who attended. The Sleepy Sun have an latter-day haight-ashbury attitude, and channel it through potent & dominant blues-rock; and seeing them live assures you it’s a sincere and awesome amalgam from this San-Francisco band. Can’t wait to catch them again.

By Sean Brna

When one has a “traditional” band comprised of two people, and only 4 hands, it is quite difficult to consistently produce quality songs. This proves even truer within the genre of blues-rock. The sound must be creatively cared for so as not to become repetitively thin, and/or dull to the ears-and-mind. The Black Keys are no novices to this particular challenge, and in their new album “Brothers” we find their 6^thmusical attempt at this difficult test.

“Brothers” starts off with one of the best tracks of the album (which contains a lengthy 15 tracks), Everlasting Light. It is an introduction to the overall sound of the album; a gritty, low-end heavy version of blues-rock in which the drums often take a back seat to the forward moving bass/guitar. The low-end is such that at times one can’t tell if they are listening to bass or an effected guitar. When you can differentiate the two the guitar still leans towards to low-end, and the bass at times sounds like it was DI’ed (not mic’ed from the amp), resulting in a wide, heavy, but oddly in-dynamic low end.

Now aggresive-blues-rock isn’t anything novel for this band, but “Brothers” differs from those before in the way it uses the relationship between drums and guitar/bass. At times in this album it is as if the guitar has mutinied – in addition to becoming sonorously deep – and plunges forward to declare itself the leader. It is songs such as Next Girl, Sinister Kid, and The Go Getter in which this approach works best and produces truly fun songs that contian great movement.

The vocals or supplemental sounds (such as organ, or layered guitar or bass) on this album seem to move forward also, but don’t always choose to supplement the guitar, instead they just seem to move in a similar direction while the drums hold the middle ground. So in the end we find a more stilted, gravelly, atypical blues-rock sound. Tighten Up is a song that displays this quickly punctuated bluesy style well, and is also smartly fortified with a pleasantly rolling breakdown and delightful peripheral sounds.

And while this stilted, gritty blues sound is prevalent throughout the album there are also a couple tracks in which The Black Keys revert to their tried-and-true method of creating catchy, rhythmic, drum+guitar riffs and beats. On Howlin’ for You we find a toe-tapping, head-shaking song that revolves around an unchanging drum beat and a more traditionally emotive guitar. It is classic Black Keys, and it’s one of the albums best.

But then there are other tracks that don’t come off as successful. She’s Long Gone, Black Mud,  Too Afraid to Love You, and Ten Cent Pistol are examples of how easy it is to hit the creative ceiling with two musicians, and we find ourselves with blues-rock that unfortunately comes off as slightly vapid and stock-sounding.

Overall “Brothers” is an album that is best described as a mixed bag. There are indeed quality tracks that showcase The Black Keys ability to push the creative envelope of minimalist blues-rock. Yet, the album probably could have been reduced to 10 songs – as opposed to 15 – focusing more on the novel sounds of this album and cutting the fat of their more “normal” blues-rock numbers. Also, the soulful-swing present in their previous album, “Attack and Release” could probably have been brought in to good effect on a few tracks.

However, for just 2 guys playing the blues, I don’t know if anyone else could continually make such interesting, varying, and successful approaches to what is arguably the most static genre that exists. So while, for The Black Keys, it may be a “good-not-great album”, for the contemporary blues fan, it is still an album worth digesting.

By Sean Brna

It’s always a boisterous bunch that attends a Chicago show by The Brian Jonestown Massacre.

This last one at the Metro, on the Sunday night of Memorial Day weekend, was no exception. BJM plays to a niche audience indeed, but within that niche they can reach demigod-like status that surprises those unfamiliar with the group.

For the most part BJM brings to the table – and has for about 15 years – a brand of edgy, yet mostly traditional, psychedelic rock that has its roots in the mind-altered attitude & energy of the 60’s. Yet the following they have received is not “hippy’ish” in anyway, the people at BJM shows come to rock n’ roll, not to celebrate love. There was a heightened enthusiasm in the crowd that was hard not to feed off of. (Luckily that energy didn’t spill over into an intense fight between spectators, which occurred the last time they played Chicago.)

BJM mostly stuck to that which they have become very well known for, actually steering clear of all the music from their last album (more on this later). They opened with “Super Sonic”, letting the crowd get very used to a dreamy drone-like guitar tone produced by Antwon, the lead singer, continually strumming on 3 guitar strings. Then the swift beat, vocals, tambourine, bass and multiple guitars all surface – but the drone does not cease. BJM leaned heavy upon these hallucinatory whirrs, giving their music a heavy surreal base – upon which they gladly build wonderful rock songs. Yet this technique is not one to be suggested to many bands, for it usually results poorly. But like some sort of weird batting stance that you let slide because the guy can hit – BJM is repeatedly successful in this trippy musical technique.

The Massacre played a lot of their material off of “Strung out in Heaven” and “Give it Back.” Those songs showcase BJM’s ability to create music with ever-present wailing guitars that are put aside a strutting rock n’ roll rhythm section, that sometimes emerges from or into hallucinatory effects. They really shinned on their song “Got my Eye on You”, where their energy really hit a crescendo, and the background talking added by tambourine player Joel Gion created for an kick-ass sonic effect which was verified by an immediate spike in the excitement of the audience. “Not if you were the last Dandy on earth” was another quickly paced song in which BJM really seemed to click and delivered the goods like the weathered pros that they are.

One thing that was conspicuously absent from this show was songs off of BJMs latest album, “Who Killed Sgt Pepper?” – which was a detour of sorts in that it is comprised of mostly electronically-influenced, “rave’ier”, pysch music. Yet it was also a stunning album with a number of stirring songs. True, the full band present on stage may not have been involved in all the recordings of that album, but some of them were… Needless to say it was perplexing and disappointing not to hear how those songs, different as they may be for the band, would have been played and sounded this evening at the Metro. It also marks the first time I have witnessed a band disregard their latest material in a large live show. But then again – it is BJM, and I shouldn’t be surprised at being surprised by them, by now.

Notwithstanding that absence of their freshest material, this show was still a triumph of psychedelic rock n’ roll. The Brian Jonestown Massacre has a way of being unpredictably consistent that few bands can pull off. The sincerity of their rock n’ roll aura, the depth of their desire for a mind-altered state, is tangible when you absorb their live show. It’s why they are one of the most-respected and followed bands – that most haven’t heard of.

By Sean Brna

Sean.brna@OurVinyl.com

Metric Seen Here

The performance commenced with great style. It’s not often that lights and audio begin prior to a band’s appearance, but that’s how Metric took to the stage at Chicago’s Vic Theater. As blue lights pulsed and white ones danced the members of Metric took the slow building hallucinogenic sounds that were already being played and transitioned it into their song “twilight galaxy.” This was a solid show starter that was part electro-psych, part pop/rock, but all class.

Metric is a band that continually attempts to walk the line between rave and rock n’ roll. Of course, their version of rock n’ roll is highly supplemented by the contemporarily popular electrification of indie rock. Their crowd on this spring evening also reflected that balance; it was a very crowded event full of fist-pumping, quasi-dancing “ravers” as well as the more stoic, devil-finger flashing, “rockers.”

Metric then went into 3 of their well-liked numbers from their album; Satellite Mind, Front Row and Help I’m Alive. During these numbers Metric really showed off the capability of their lighting scheme. For being within a mid-size venue it really was top notch, both is the manner the lights were emotionally in-sync with the music and with the way they employed strobes and light curtains to keep their audience intrigued. This greatly added to the atmosphere of their show and definitely helped edge the audience into a heightened level of participation.

Yet musically, these anticipated songs came off slightly sterile. I enjoyed Emily Haines’ voice the most when she sang in a manner that was, for lack of a better term “noticeably live.” Only during Front Row did her voice seem to deviate even slightly from what’s heard on the album. And while this can be viewed as a feat by the vocalist, which it is, it just came off slightly as slightly vapid (though this could have also been due to their being at the end of their American tour, or that the show started considerably early in the evening).

But they also killed. For this author, Metric was at their best when they walked the line between rock and rave completely balanced, or leaned slightly into their rock side. Now don’t misunderstand; because Metric employs swift, strict-in-time, dance-friendly beats in most all of their songs (indeed, it’s what they are known for). Yet they have quite a knack for constructing catchy rock-riffs that interact with the dancing beats in such a frolic-friendly manner, it’s when they are most gripping.

For this reason it was on such songs as Gimme Sympathy, Gold Guns Girls, Stadium Love and a new song (name unknown, was the 5^th one of their set) in which they unleashed their most potent batch of live musical entertainment onto the Chicago crowd. These songs focused more on the guitar and usage of song progression, it addition to incorporating some psychedelic sounds.  On these songs was when Metric stimulated and connected with their audience the most – or at least this particular audience.

Metric does not have an easy job; they are a Canadian indie rock band that plays music which is of similar character to stadium-friendly pop music. They walk that line well, bringing together people of different ages and genre loyalties together in Chicago for a raucously good time. Yet should they discover that sounding sheik can quickly lead to sterility, and that their at their best when they honor their rock side, this is a band that has the talent and the know-how to ride the current wave of interests in glamorously electrified indie music for some time.

By Sean Brna

sean.brna@gmail.com

*this true yarn has been republished, and originally appeared as part of National Lampoon/Rivalfish’s official coverage of Bonnaroo ‘06

by Tello Real

In June 2006, Rivalfish traveled to the Bonnaroo Music and Arts Festival to explore the connection between music and sports — from the perspectives of both fans and performers. Our findings are dedicated to Hunter S. Thompson aka Dr. Gonzo aka Raul Duke, who never passed on an opportunity to cover sports, music, or social change, especially when they all landed in the same story.

Major League Baseball’s Access to the Show competition at MLB’s Authentic Collection batting cages was going to be a real hoot, as we say in the world of Subterranean Homesick Sports Journalism. A bunch of atrophied musicians taking their crack at fifteen dirty yellow cage balls flung their way at a brisk 55 mph in the pleasantly branded batting cages MLB plopped backstage. I’d seen more graceful casket-droppings than I was sure to see with this legion of people who are actually cool enough in the eyes of the opposite sex to never have to worry about being good at sports.

Nonetheless, these artists were tasked with picking up a bat in the sweltering Tennessee heat and swinging away for another obnoxious promotion their manager annoyed them into attending. No line drives, shots to the gap, or even hard grounders were expected to occur in these Authentic Collection cages any time soon.

But MLB knew this. That’s why they decided to score the contest on mere ball/bat contact. How-many-times-my-bat-hit-the-ball/How-many-times-the-machine-flung-the-ball-sortafast-at-my-bat. Easy math.

In the end, an expected-but-still-hilarious stat emerge.  0-for-15 for every one of those endomorphic Bonnaroo-performing hippies and hipsters, with the exception of the only three real men of the rotten group: Phil Pollard of Band of Humans, Vince Amico of Moe, and Jeremy Plog of Jackie Greene. I could have told you from Day 1 that those three would either foul off or make good contact with all fifteen of those heaters. And they sure as hell did.

But that story was flatter than my seventh grade girlfriend’s brother. I needed to use my Access to the Show to answer a much bigger question: Why are there so few Jews in Major League Baseball and why are Jews unanimously viewed to be the least athletic of the world’s Believers? Who better to ask than Bonnaroo’s authority on All Things Jewish: Lewis “You Remember Me From The Daily Show” Black.

As I should have expected, Lewis Black further perpetuated the terrible stereotype that Jews couldn’t hit, pich, or punt themselves out of mandatory military service if their lives depended on it. I had asked him the eternal question backstage at Bonnaroo’s comedy tent, and he had bluntly responded, “You already know the answer, you’re a Jew. Jews aren’t good at anything.”

A simple “no” would have sufficed, but why was it? Did the ego-deflating generalization stem from some kind of evidence showing Jews lack the physiological or mental wiring to compete at the highest level of athletics? Or maybe their athletic ineptitude stems from the fact that Jewish families traditionally push academics, rather than athletics, to their little Iras, Aris, and Sols?

“But I won’t get on the Prom Court or ever have a girl like me,” their little mensches must surely wail, Wall-style.

“But you’ll be dating a supermodel when you’re President of Talent Development at MGM after you’ve gotten your MBA at Dartmouth and your Law degree at Stanford by the age of 26,” Mr. and Mrs. Hinklestein surely must reply.

But whatever the root of the unathletic stereotype, we can’t blame Mr. Black. My question was ridiculous. He had to counter with a laugher. He has a career to further and a family to feed. He’s trained in the art of being the funniest in the conversation at all times. However, a large part of me wishes he didn’t have to go publicly set back his own people further than anyone without a side-part and a thing for tall blondes in the past hundred years.

To be honest, I had given up on my quest to answer this age old debate after my encounter with that Bigot Black. But then this gem below arrived in my inbox. Though I had been there to cover it, I had apparently missed the moment of Chosen Person Vindication while “covering” my lungs with a helping of cash crop or a set of hand-painted hippie boobs with my eyes. Look and you will see…….

This is not a doctored photograph. This photograph was taken by the esteemed Brad Hodge of the Nashville City Paper at the aforementioned MLB Authentic Collection batting cages.

All the stories of Jewish athletic success in the world weren’t going to answer my question and certainly weren’t going to change the existing stereotype. We needed a picture to act as a symbol. A symbol comprised of two smaller symbols: An Hasidic Jewish man with traditional facial hair symbolizing “utmost devotion to the Jewish religion,” and an attempt to hit a round ball with a rounded surface, symbolizing “the hardest thing to do in sports.”

While papers and novels and essays get skimmed, paintings and pictures get remembered. Take The Bible, for instance. I hear it’s got a lot of good stuff for people of many religions, but I bet neither you nor I can quote much of it from memory, or give me a list of the Books in order. But I bet you can picture, draw, and label DaVinci’s Last Supper with your eyes closed and whiskey on your breath. My grandma made up this saying once, “a picture’s worth a thousand words.” Well this picture of Matthew “Matisyahu”(Hebrew for gift of God) Miller with the Prayer Strings of his Tzizit-Tallit Katan dangling from beneath his traditional white tennis polo is worth thousands of years of redemption from Religious persecution. And you better f*cking believe there’s a Kippah under that snazzy helmet as his peyot sway with every swing.

Not since the photograph of Rosa Parks sitting on the front of the bus, as a white man sits behind her and tries oh so hard to look unaffected as he peers beyond the horizon, has a photograph so utterly represented profound social change. Now, when people think Jewish Athleticism, they’ll forever conjure this picture of Matis. And it’s hard to argue that Matisyahu’s emblematic swing would bring anything short of an opposite-field two-bagger on the field of play. Jewish children will no longer feel like they have to become really rich to make up for their lack of field-savvy, looks, or machismo. The stereotype is soon to be dead forever. Thank you, Matisyahu. Transforming a Societal Ill with one swing of the aluminum is more noteworthy than any on-field accomplishment by anyone not-named Jackie Robinson.

And for that, he should get laid. I know girlsl. Matisyahu will surely shun the advances of any converted athlete-groupie, no longer a slave to the excess he enjoyed while traveling the country as a middle-class suburban dreadheaded Phish Phan. Thanks to his conversion to the Chabad-Lubavitch Hasidic community, he is now a clean and sober and happily married man, supposedly unmoved by even the best set of Emo, Hippie, or Jersey-Chaser Cans. Therefore, he’ll do something for you Chasers that you’ve needed done for a long time: He’ll help you rediscover your faith. He’ll pick you up off your knees, wipe off your chin, and bring you home to Mommy and Step-Daddy. He may even do for your what a Hasidic Rabbi in Washington Square Park once did for him, and bring you over to the Chosen Side.  We can only hope. L’Chaim!

Crowds formed early last night at a sold-out Metro for male/female duo, Sleigh Bells, who opened for fellow Brooklyn-ites and highly anticipated headliner, Yeasayer.

The lights went down as Sleigh Bells’ Derek Miller took the stage hardly visible in dark pants and a hoodie. The sound of church bells clanged and echoed throughout the venue before lead singer, Alexis Krauss, emphatically made her presence known. They opened with the new single off their debut album Treats (due out in May), “Tell ‘Em”, packed with screeching guitar riffs and thundering beats that mimic heavy artillery being launched, offset by soft vocals. “Beach Girls” followed with a hip-hop hook, while “Infinity Guitars” provided crunchy chords and nonsense lyric shouted almost angrily at the audience. This similar style continued with “A/B Machines”, comparable to a glitch hop club banger, complete with distorted drums, siren guitars, and a loudly exclaimed mantra: “Got my A machines on the table! Got my B machines in the drawer!” Alexis’ in-your-face performance failed to disappoint. While their music vibrated chest-deep, she seduced the crowd, daring all of us to look away, twirling and flailing around violently on stage. If the crowd wasn’t convinced at this point, she shocked them into submission as she about climbed on the speakers and let out shrill banshee-like shrieks over ripping guitar chords and an ever-present thumping. Their set concluded with the more popular, “Crown on the Ground”, recognizable by its epic loudness and its deliberate push to speaker-blowing audio extremes. The song helped solidify the duo’s performance and their unfaltering energy, bringing the crowd’s enthusiasm to a crescendo during this final number. Minor technical difficulties aside, the outlook for Sleigh Bells is more than promising and I think it’s safe to say we can expect great things from them.

Yeasayer’s performance was undeniably electrifying. The three core members, Chris Keating, Anand Wilder and Ira Wolf Tuton, appeared on stage in clashing wardrobes, with Wilder in what appeared to be a patterned robe, Keating in a classic preppy ensemble and Tuton in loose-fitting tank. Offbeat threads, however, couldn’t distract the audience from their hypnotic three-part harmony. Spacey synths and 80s pop drums, layered over added electronic chatter, flowed together seamlessly throughout the group’s falsetto-heavy songs. But it’s too difficult to simplify the band’s sound – a far cry from their fellow indie rockers. The bands repertoire included songs like “O.N.E.”, taking on a more jam band-y feel and “Strange Reunions”, utilizing global influences; to more lulling and almost misty numbers, “Love Me Girl” and “Madder Red”. Watching these principle members, standing atop illuminated platforms, contributing varying vocals and instrumentals to the band’s set wasn’t dissimilar to a Blue Man Group performance – delectable to both the eyes and ears. Fan favorite, “Ambling Alp” – an upbeat number complete with tween pop-like lyrics – proved to be a fitting wrap to their eclectic set. The performance could be described as colorful in every sense of the word, but most prominent overall was this dynamic group’s ability to flawlessly blend all of their sounds that emanated from the stage that night into what could only be recounted as a dreamy, emotive swell.

Review By: Alison Lato

Yeasayer- www.yeasayer.net

Sleigh Bells – www.myspace.com/sleighbellsmusic

1) We are giving away 2 tickets and giving away 2 tickets at ½ price to the SHPONGLE @ Kinetic Playground and night show  comin’ up Thursday May, 6^th. If you haven’t heard about Friday’s show yet, here’s the link:
http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=271344477683&ref=ts

2) 05/06 – Shpongle featuring VJ Zebbler & ArcheDream for Humankind w/ HEYOKA, The Earsmiths, Dojo vs. Twitch & The Ancient Astronaut.
http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=271344477683&ref=ts

Anyway, here’s how the contest works. Make sure you read the entire message before jumping the gun on anything!

******************************
Here is the way to enter the contest::::

Invite as many of your friends as you can to join the CULTURE FREQUENCY PAGE:http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/The-Culture-Frequency/101473149895561?ref=ts

AND

Invite as many of your friends as you can to join the Chicago Bluegrass  & Blues Festival Fan Page
http://www.facebook.com/#!/cbbfestival?ref=ts

*********IMPORTANT********
After selecting all of your friends, but BEFORE you actually click “invite” you must take a screenshot of the window that you are selecting your friends in. In the top right corner of this box there is a number that indicates how many friends you have selected. This is vital for us to know that you actually did the invites and how many you are sending out.

You must take this screenshot image and e-mail it to shayna.gladstone@gmail.com Wednesday  May 5th by 5pm!

If you are unfamiliar with screenshots, here’s a quick and easy tutorial on how to do them:

WINDOWS: http://graphicssoft.about.com/cs/general/ht/winscreenshot.htm
MAC:
http://graphicssoft.about.com/od/screencapturemac/ht/macscreenshot.htm

******************************
THE 2 PEOPLE TO INVITE THE MOST FRIENDS TO BOTH PAGES EACH GET A FREE TICKET. THE 2 SECOND RUNNERS UP WILL GET ½ OFF TO THE SHOW!

******************************
Now I know this sounds confusing and like a lot of work, but it really isn’t that difficult and only takes a little bit of your time. We will also continue to use this screenshot contest for future events, so it’s a good thing to learn!

Plus there are good prizes on the table

Please e-mail me if you have any questions.

Good luck to all of you who choose to participate!!

Peace & Love

Shayna Gladstone