Welcome to Under The Stars, where we talk about San Francisco music: past, present, and future.We’ve been doing it for about five years. Thanks for hanging with us. Let us get to it.
TWO LOUD WINS: FAKE YOUR OWN DEATH AND ORION’S BELTE
Don’t think for a second local bands who get to play in any capacity at the recently wound-up Noise Pop have blurred vision. Trust. They see it. Out-of-town talent arrives, takes over the 415, and acts like rock stars as if nobody else here has left blood, sweat, or a busted drumstick on those stages.
That’s the edge you want to hear; it snaps your attention away from the golden tater tots or the refreshing Charmbourd heavy Berry Spritz on sale as an effervescent cocktail at these Noise Pop Bender’s Happy Hour performances.
Fake Your Own Death, the San Francisco post-punk/noise rock ensemble, took the 7pm stage at Noise Pop’s Bender’s Bar Happy Hour on February 25 with the kind of veteran resolve that quietly mumbles, “Maybe you overlooked us, buddy.” In about a 30-minute set, they had the entire patronage jumping, kicking, pushing in on the rumble, reacting to the irresistible melodies, and hanging on to every no-wave reference.
Benders Bar, for just a couple of digital moments in time, became an intimate rock palace, not just bathed in signs of Mission cool from a before-time, but that down-the-street secret spot past where Terry Ashkinos, Scott Eberhardt, Shane Ryan, and Adrian McCullough played like it was a sold-out show for thousands of in-the-know disciples. It’s these moments, ones not covered on the front pages of the local music press, that make Noise Pop click.
When you notice bookers in the audience for a show, that communicates a certain specialness happening with the event. So, upon being informed the promoters for Hopmonk Tavern in Sebastopol came into town to catch the Norwegian power trio Orions Belte at The Chapel on February 26, I knew this outer band of tricksters who weave about the blues, kraut-rock, searing no wave, and borderline jazz-hip-hop instrumentals with carefree snarls and lock-and-load musicianship would deliver something unheard.
Welp, their car got broken into. Upon their arrival in SF, someone had smashed their windows and stolen some of their belongings. So Oyvind, lead guitarist of the band, posted about the break-in on Instagram. He got a response, claiming that some of their belongings were recovered. The person with the account “young milf slayer”—you can’t make this stuff up—did return what they found. So in return, the band at the show dedicated a song to young milf slayer.
The live rendition of “Atlantic Surfing,” a crowd-pleaser and a hybrid of blues, psyche, rock, and a sensation of flight above it all, received cheers, shouts, and other voiced approval from the crowd. They are a hard band to describe, but once you get that mix in your head, you are destined never to forget them.
ELLA FITZGERALD THE MOMENT OF TRUTH: ELLA AT THE COLISEUM (VERVE RECORDS)
There is a version of Cream’s “Sunshine of Your Love” done by Ella Fitzgerald. One of my fave local DJs used to slap it on the decks anytime he thought people were giving him the short shift. You know, assuming his set came with the bad velvet paintings on the walls of the bar?
I knew immediately if Ella was speaking down lyrics like Clapton giving guitar solos, “Uh-oh, somebody in this swanky happy hour spot ticked my dude off.”
The truth of the matter is, once people recognized this rock staple was being handled by the “First Lady of Song,” “the Queen of Jazz,” well, things got quiet, and folks grabbed another watered-down happy hour drink and contemplated life by themselves with Ella singing them blues.
I’m pretty excited about this newly rescued and released concert from Ella Fitzgerald live at Oakland Coliseum from the summer of 1967. The pitch-perfect vocalist was still working with Duke Ellington, and collectively they were infusing pop tunes into her canon. So the pop hit “Alfie” is on here along with “Music to Watch Girls By.” It’s just before jazz changed a bit and the pop hits flooded the swanky venues, and old-guard veterans had to cover what the kids were into. But, as you already know, Fitzgerald’s reading of any arrangement, idiom, or genre remains unmatched.
Pick it up here
SKIP THE NEEDLE AT MOES’S ALLEY IN SANTA CRUZ, MARCH 13 AND THE FREIGHT IN BERKELEY, MARCH 15
There is this idea that leaps to the front of my noggin from the Sly Lives! documentary, currently on Hulu, that is so present on the funk-soul and rawk new release from the Oakland-based queer women quartet Skip The Needle. When you bring the inclusion of all voices, ideas, and philosophies into the music space, that result, the alchemy, will reflect in a frequency that is generally not attained. The mixture of that chemistry is true unto itself on new release Wake Up Wake Up Wake Up.
Bay Area superstars Vicki Randle, Shelley Doty, Kofy Brown, and Katie Cash fashion punk, funk, and soul-influenced rock into what they like to call Black Dyke Rock. That’s true. But there’s something else at work here: a collective respect and even-handed understanding that each member has their own niche they bring to the table, which makes this five-song EP potent in so many other ways beyond just the gender aesthetic.
There is a certain way Kofy Brown enunciates “I’m your pahtna, I’m your friend” on the uplifting jawn “Call Me.” It just resonates with glimmering humanity. These little moments, there are a few up in this, decorate the guitar-slinging bump-and-roll release with ideas and feelings anybody with a pulse can connect to and with. I can only assume the music gets so much better live and direct in person. So, save those dates and go support your new fave Black Dyke Rock band, Pahtna.
Tickets for Moe’s here, tickets for Freight here. Go pick up Wake Up Wake Up Wake Up here.
LIVE JAZZ AT SHUGGIE’S TRASH PIE & NATURAL WINE IN MARCH (AND BEYOND)
As reported in Mission Local, Kayla Abe and David Murphy have turned their Mission hotspot eatery into a jazz destination as well, pairing up with nonprofit, musician-supporting org Jazz in the Neighborhood. With Trumpflation running the dickens through people’s “going out for the night” budget—and God knows we need diversion just for sanity, daily frigging sanity—this dinner and a good jazz show model fits the bill and so much more. So if you like ‘Za and improvisation, hit up this much-buzzed-about pairing of practices on Tuesday and Sunday nights. That’s when the musicians show up, play, eat, grab a drink, and make the whole experience very Mission-ly. It feels like the right energy at the proper time. Hit up Shuggie’s schedule here.
ONEIDA, KINSKI, AND TERRY GROSS AT KILOWATT, MARCH 20
When you have the ability, luck, or just the stones to rock both shitty divey cheap drank cavernous clubs and more established houses of art such as the Guggenheim, MoMA PS1, ICA London, MassMOCA, and the Knoxville Museum of Art—you pick up some things. Oneida, the New York City-based outfit, who’ve been around since 1997, “careens through every kind of rock with shadings of noise, experimental, psychedelic, minimalism, and so on—all with a workmanlike approach,” according to Bandcamp.
They play the Kilowatt March 20, with Kinski and our local faves with the smartaleck name, Terry Gross. It’s been 15 years since their last West Coast appearance, and their drummer, Kid Millions, who founded the band, has expressed he’s pretty stoked about coming back through. Known for marathon sets at pretty storied parties around the world—All Tomorrow’s Parties being one of them—things are gonna get epic on old 16th Street.
Grab tickets here.
