As the flurry of local releases cooled off this week we set our sights on some of the top talent coming through Chicago and took in a monumental amount of music. While catching three shows this week, JCB won the marathon with Lincoln Durham and local blues rocker Melody Angel at Schubas, Peter More and The Iceman Special at Subterranean’s downstairs venue, and rounded out his whirlwind week with Jim James and Amo Amo at The Vic. Joining the fray, KPL and TLM caught Camp Cope, An Horse, and Oceanator at Sub T and all by his lonesome KPL hit up the instant classic that was Mudhoney and Metz at Lincoln Hall. Not to leave out the local scene LPL and NBL swung into Sleeping Village last Wednesday for Café Racer,  Junegrass, and Caroline Campbell. As you can see we had one hell of a Memorial Day week and it didn’t stop with new releases from locals bluefront and a new single from Gia Margaret. That’s not all dear Surfers, there is an insane amount of bands that put out new music this week that’s worth giving a spin. It’s all inside! As we nurse our tired feet ahead of Do Division this weekend do yourself a favor and pull up the playlist, dive on in, and enjoy this week’s musical meltdown!

Don’t forget to check out our Summer Fest Guide which we will be adding to as the summer fest season hits full swing! See you out on the streets Chicago!

Keep Seeing Live Music!

⬐ SHOWS ⬎

Camp Cope / 📷 : TLM

As Georgia Maq filled the room with her uplifting howl on standout closer, “The Opener,” (a pointed treatise on sexism of the music industry,) the importance of last Friday’s show at the SubT came to full fruition. This is the present and future of rock ‘n’ roll. Where a full evening of female acts that span genres and generations can, and always will, kick more ass than their male counterparts ever will. From the cool indie grooves of Oceanator, to the hard-hitting guitar rock duo An Horse, to the pop punk (self-labeled “power emo”) of Aussie trio Camp Cope, it was an affirming and inspiring evening that will live long in the memories of those who were there.

A lifelong musician, picking up the guitar at only nine years old, Elise Okusami took on the moniker of Oceanator several years back and has been producing gorgeous indie/post-rock gems ever since. Last year’s EP Lows is a fantastic piece of work that translates live without any hiccup or noticable difference. As fantastic a guitar player as she is a songwriter, Okusami ripped through her opening set to the whoops of the already packed house. Her low key demeanor only offset the power of her lyrics in a way that makes them all the more effective; there is no need to sugarcoat the bitter pill when it tastes this good.

An Horse ripped into their set with a full slate of tunes from brand new record Modern Air (their first full length in eight years,) before dropping into some excellent older tunes. After meeting at a Brisbane record store job in ‘07, Kate Cooper (guitar,vocals) and Damon Cox (drums) ditched their bands and joined forces to form An Horse, a genre-spanning duo that combined their talents into an amalgamation of shoegaze, punk and hard rock that just plain works. Cooper’s magnetic stage presence and Cox’s fill-fueled breakneck drumming are a perfect match and the two riddled the crowd with emotive bullets that sunk into each and every target. Their singalong choruses raised plenty of fists and the danceable melodies had a good deal of the crowd bouncing along. Bringing it full circle, they ended their too-short set with the hard-hitting “Drown” and “This Is A Song” off one of the best rock albums from the first half of this year.

Last year’s How to Socialise & Make Friends landed on plenty of ‘best of’ lists and reached the top ten in Camp Cope’s native Australia, so it was only fitting to take this thing on a major tour, which happened to swing by the SubT not once, but twice in the last couple of months. Fronted by the incomparable Georgia Maq, with Kelly-Dawn Hellmrich on bass and Sarah Thompson on drums, Camp Cope is one of those rare acts that is unmistakably inspiring. The unflinching honesty and on-point social commentary they embrace rings true on each and every tune, and Maq’s do-or-die attitude and willingness to lay bare her inner self is as impressive as it is life affirming. Opening with Green Day’s “Warning,” (a current favorite for this tour,) before ripping through a career-spanning set, the band spent as much time on new material as old. From the raw emotions of “Anna” and “UFO Lighter,” to the anthemic rock of “Keep Growing” and “Jet Fuel Can’t Melt Steel Beams,” Maq and her crew laid it all out there for their fans who packed the upstairs club for the chance to catch a glimpse at the unapologetic future of rock ‘n’ roll. Putting a bow on the perfect set with instant classic “The Opener,” which ends with the prophetic words that will, one of these days, become obsolete with more nights like this and every effort put forth to make the music scene more inclusive:

“It's another whole male tour preaching equality
It's another straight cis man who knows more about this than me
It's another man telling us we're missing a frequency

It's another man telling us we can't fill up the room
It's another man telling us to book a smaller venue
Nah, hey come on girls, we're only thinking about you!
Now look how far we've come not listening to you

Yeah just get a female opener, that'll fill the quota”

Thanks Camp Cope, An Horse, and Oceanator, for an evening that will long live in memory. Here’s to hope and all the hard work left to fix generations of wrong!

-KPL

Lincoln Durham / 📷 : JCB

Blues, to me, is a fascinating genre of music. It’s one of the oldest forms of music in America, with a storied history that would take far too long to detail here. What I enjoy most about it is the varied interpretations one can hear. Yes, it has arguably permeated almost every genre. But I’m talking about stripping pop or hip-hop or rock down to its core and the blues underbelly. What you find there is a mixed bag with one thing in common – simple and repeating progressions of only the required amount of sounds. With that, you can have Son House’s Delta Blues, Jimi Hendrix’s electric blues, or The Black Key’s garage rock. It’s a genre that if you asked me how much I listen, I would say I don’t much but then come back an hour later after you’d completely forgotten your flippant question and explain how blues is everywhere and maybe I listen to it more than anything. Have I ever mentioned I don’t know how to intro reviews? So I walked into Schubas Tavern on Sunday night, and I was ready for a night of blues…

The first of two musicians playing completely solo, Chicago’s own Melody Angel ripped into a mix of originals and covers that showcased the type of night it was going to be. With covers of “Hey Joe” and “All Along the Watchtower,” the young guitarist brought a new, gritty-yet feminine, take on the style of blues popularized by Hendrix of yesterday and Gary Clark of today. She’s got the chops to make those songs her own, and a voice that would make Tina Turner proud. 12-bar blues have been played for over a century, but Melody made it sound like a brand new idea as she flitted her way up and down her fretboard. She took her time playing ballads and rockers, but time seemed to fly by too fast – the first time I looked at my watch, it had been 40 minutes, and she was thanking us for having been there. 

And then something happened that I’m not sure I’ve ever seen before – a standing ovation for an opener. If you’ve never been to Schubas, there is surprisingly ample seating available. But as Melody announced the end of her set, every person rose to cheer one hell of a local musician. She deserved it, but it was still shocking to see. For her as well – I’m not sure she knew how to walk off stage at that point, stunned with happiness. She plays damn fine music that you can see Sat, June 8th at the Chicago Blues Festival. I need to swing by from 11-12 to see more of this rising star, and her blistering blues fretwork.

3 songs to check out:

Just Enough
Say It Ain’t So
Nothing to Lose

Growing up, I was never a big fan of church. I went because that’s what we did,  (primarily due to my child-like size preventing me from doing anything else.) The sermons just didn’t do it for me, having more boring guilt than bombastic shamelessness. After small town Texan Lincoln Durham finished his one-man set of southern gothic revival blues, it was clear that I didn’t not like church… I was just in the wrong congregation.

On any one of the songs that grace his four proper LPs, you get a sense of the sound Lincoln plays with. Slide guitar for days, gruff wails, and an aura that would best fit in a decrepit carnival sideshow. And then you find out he writes and records all on his own. It was intriguing enough for me to swing by my favorite tavern for a viewing of the live show. What happened in the next 90 minutes can only be described in exaggerated adjectives and overly contrasted black and white photos.

First, he truly is a one-man band. Surrounded by a rickety drum set, a tambourine rigged for foot stomping, and no less than five stringed instruments, Lincoln Durham seemingly uses every part of his body for a riveting performance, and the effort shows, too. His curly mohawk and scruffy beard were pouring sweat as he headbanged and stomped hard enough to put a hole through the Schubas stage. He told us a few times we were in a new kind of congregation, one that accepts one and all and judges none, and I couldn’t help but shout “AMEN” over the screeching feedback from his axe.

Second, he doesn’t banter much between his songs, but when you’re singing about possible subplots of True Detective Season 4, what else is there to say? He may have lied when he noted one song was written about the gentle wings of a butterfly caressing you on a cool spring Chicago morning. His latest album, And Into Heaven Came The Night, doubles down on the psycho-revival spirit of his previous work. With songs about wicked preachers and the personal loss that blues is known for, we get poetry that seems written by the bastard son of Flannery O’Connor and Cormac McCarthy, music penned by Nick Cave and Son House, and a performance from Tim Burton and Tom Waits’ nightmares.

Third, the guitars. Yes, he plays your standard electric and acoustic six-strings. (There’s a banjo when he’s playing more traditional Delta tunes.) He’s also got a three-string cigar box guitar that looks like he made it himself. The pickup looks to be loosely bolted on, and the strings, if you can call them that, are tightened just enough to make sure they don’t fall off. It also doubles as a steel guitar when needed. Then… there’s the axe. Yes, I wasn’t being cute earlier – it’s called building intrigue. He has a one-stringed axe that is used for one and only one song,  “Annie Departee,” a track about a woman who can’t quit killing men. If the cigar box is ramshackle, then this thing is downright rude and crude. With a thundering kick drum and tambourine combo as a backdrop, Lincoln lifted the axe high in the air and used a slide to seduce more sound out of it than the traditional ka-chunk.

Lincoln Durham is a performance that everyone needs to see. His music is great – I suggest diving into my recommendations below, but only in a live setting can you get the true experience. I will absolutely let you know when he’s coming back to town.

3 Songs to check out:

Heaven
Preacher
Annie Departee

-JCB

Postscript: No cheeky quip. I just need to see this guy again…  (soon!!)

Café Racer / 📷 : NBL

Caroline Campbell sang through a dense shroud of amber curls, flanked by a flutist and a second keyboarder/vocalist. Together, the flute and keys paced each other as the flute led the way to mount in anticipation until Campbell cut through the smokiness of her own voice to reveal a surprisingly harmonious and stable higher pitch.

Sleeping Village has made a really excellent mission to support the local community by booking local artists. V.V. Lightbody, Shiraz Bhatti of Deeper, and more (many of whom have already graced Sleeping Village’s now year-old stage) were there in support as yet another local group of talented musicians - tonight, Café Racer - took gracious presence on the young venue’s stage. Nearly the entire venue emptied to pack the patio between sets. It really is a beautiful thing to see so many artists in one place, on one patio, off stage, allowing the drizzling rain to enhance their laughter...

Photographer NBL felt a calling to head back inside where we were welcomed with a fresh slate of Junegrass’s smooth groove improvisational jams. Their brand of beauty can only be made by three guitars, intentionally subtle cowbells, a seeping saxophone and a trio of organs. They had me antsy and yearning to pack my car and drive down to Summer Camp Music Festival, as this was the first time I had not gone in five years. But, then I noticed the amp screen was painted in the most beautiful deep hues of red and green, mottled into a soothing floral design. The twists of the vines, swirling over and under and around the delicate roses drew me in as Spencer Radcliffe’s subtle saxophone wove its way in, deeply rooting itself with each flutter. Junegrass brought the weightlessness of Summer Camp to my soul, and I hope to see them on the bill when I one day return.

This time, the drizzle itself sent the patio pals back inside. The glow of an oversized cowboy hat stood stark white against the dark lighting, providing a welcome intrigue as Café Racer invited us on a new journey... a sound journey. Café Racer’s performance allowed the six-membered band to get lost in their own sound, yet they were so far from lost. They were all lost together, deep within their own combined ability to let it all go and follow the sound.

-LPL

Peter More / 📷 : JCB

It was a week of firsts for me, dear readers. First, I shot a show downstairs at Subterranean for the first time. (I’ve been to SubT many times over the last decade, but I’d never brought a camera to the downstairs bar before, and boy- am I glad I did!) Second new thing - you’re gonna have to keep reading all my concert reviews to find out. I had a work function on Tuesday, so Wednesday was my Taco Tuesday. Big Star is the perfect pre-show meal for a stint at SubT – (not a sponsored plug, but I will accept food as payment.) It was also by stroke of luck that heading for some southern food was getting me in the mood for the next few hours of music...

The The Iceman Special is a quartet hailing from the swamps of Louisiana, and that atmosphere permeates their unconventional sound. Fronted by guitarist/vocalist William Murry, his brother Charles on bass, Hunter Romero on drums, and secret weapon Steve Staples on lead guitar, the band plays a mix of funk, reggae, disco, classic rock, and sludgy Sabbath-era rock. That might not sound like the perfect recipe for a cohesive sound, but apparently the swamps of NOLA can create a synthesis of anything thrown in there. The brothers are energetic performers, and seem to be where the bulk of the eccentricities in genre choice come from. Charles can groove a mean funk line while William uses the wah-wah to transport the listener directly to the dancefloor of Studio 54, while executing considerably good reggae-inspired vocals. Steve, as one can probably see, is the old soul of the group, and his classic rock influences are on his sleeve. Smartly utilizing multiple genres of rock to fit whatever oddity is used by the brothers as the backbone of the track, Staples pulls out southern classic rock solos, Yes-era prog extended jams, or psych interludes- all while wearing the coolest sunglasses I’ve ever seen! Blinders on, to keep the focus in check, Hunter has the unenviable job of holding this lead balloon in the air, and the other guys are lucky to have him. No matter how heavy the beats get, or how off track the sound seems to be heading, the drums are right where they need to be – with driving beats to lead the boys to the runway.

I’ve discovered some great bands by showing up for openers over the years, but I’m pretty confident in saying that this has been my favorite discovery. Most people know that I prefer to buy vinyls after a solid year and a half of consistent listening – (I want to make sure it won’t gather dust on my shelf), but The Iceman Special made such an impression on me that I just had to have one. I saw another new fan getting the guys to sign the record, and as I was heading home later, I regretted not getting the same for mine. (Another thing I don’t typically care about.) These guys are the real deal.

3 songs to check out:

Expectations
Hey Daisy
Can’t Get Up

Ok. How do you live up to a band that makes an impression like that opener? Tall order, for sure. Lucky for me and SubT, Texas crooner Peter More was on deck. He’s touring in support of his debut LP, Beautiful Disaster. Clad in denim and boots that have clearly walked the hard roads of West Texas, More brought a hell of a band to perform his dusty brand of Elliot Smith-esque country. Much like The Iceman Special, there was a lot to digest in More’s sound. The titular frontman is pure Texas, but with a Mexican flair via his longtime second home in San Miguel de Allende. That would traditionally be enough to throw a twist on an old genre, but his band of expats bring global sounds like Tropicalia and flamenco. (The latter is due mostly to guitarist José Juan Poyatos’ exquisite string work.) He’s also a complete joy to watch perform, using expressions to drive home the intimacy that the southern Spanish sound conventionally conjures in dance.

It may have been a sleepy weeknight in the city, but More and his band commanded the attention of the room. More and his band play with an intensity and precision that’s usually reserved for veterans, but when you hear that his album was produced by the legendary Donald Fagen (see Steely Dan) and listen to the lyrics he’s passionately delivering – it makes sense. The former is particularly noted for his exacting production and songwriting, so it’s not surprising that these guys have each song down on a note-by-note basis. The latter may not be immediately apparent, but More sings mostly about being a bit of a wanderlust. It’s this worldly, nomadic, nature that imparts the feeling you’re seeing a band in another country. At times, I had to remind myself I was under the Chicago Blue Line and not in some tiny bar in Mexico or on the beach in Cartagena. And there were at least two ladies that were feeling that vibe, too, as they danced closer and with more exuberance with each song. I may have been vibing it for a different reason, but More has three new fans in the Windy City that are ready for his return.

3 songs to check out:

Shoulder (his new single!)
What You’re Looking For
Cuando

-JCB

Postscript: I chatted with both bands after the show, and they said they’d both be back to Chicago at some point this year – probably separately, but make sure to catch these guys in time to brag about seeing them before they’re big.

Mudhoney / 📷 : KPL

Lincoln Hall and Schubas Tavern have become iconic to the Chicago musical experience, and this year they are celebrating landmark anniversaries with a 30/10 series bringing in big-name bands to commemorate the moment. Last Sunday, we  saw legendary grunge rockers Mudhoney teaming up with the face-melting trio Metz to destroy the eardrums and minds of a sold-out crowd who let loose and moshed the night away. With thirty years of tunes behind them, Mudhoney came out ready to slay, ripping through a twenty-plus song set that ran the gamut of their illustrious career, but Metz nearly stole the night as their high energy showmanship and blinding light show was an electric way for the evening to begin.  

Metz is akin to a kick to the face that is so enjoyable it’s asked for again and again. Decimating since 2008, this three piece from up North (Ottawa, Canada, for those not in the know) is made up of Alex Edkins (guitar/vocals), Chris Slorach (bass), and the glue of it all, Hayden Menzies on drums. Somewhere between grunge and hardcore, they have weaved a distortion-fueled miasma of noise that is as addictive as it is fascinating. As constant pulsing white flashes backlit their constant cacophony, they tore through a too-short set that left the slammers up front gasping for air by the time the last fuzz bomb chords rent the air. Menzies was a monster behind the kit, and his heroics were held down by Slorach’s low-end throbs that didn’t even appear to be notes as much as heart-stopping noise bombs while Edkins’ minor chord screech and ranting lyrics drive the tunes forward with an unrelenting pace. No knock against Mudhoney, but a portion of the crowd was there just to see Metz, as was evident by the capacity crowd dwindling a bit after their set, but it was easy to see why as they put on one of the most electric sets we’ve witnessed this year.   

When a band has been around for thirty years with most of its core still intact (their only peers that have done so are Pearl Jam and Meat Puppets), it’s clear there is something special down deep. Mudhoney grew out of the ashes of (arguably) the first grunge band Green River, who developed a sound that was influenced as much by hardcore punk as it was classic rock. Mark Arm and Steve Turner, with young drummer Dan Peters, formed Mudhoney in 1988 in the midst of a Seattle scene that would become legendary and create a wave of sound that swept across the world in the early ‘90s. Thirty years later, with so many of their peers succumbing to the trials of fame or just fizzling out of the public sphere, they were still tremendously vigorous even into their fifties with a marathon set that covered their entire career: from new hits like “Kill Yourself Live” and “Next Mass Extinction” of last year’s Digital Garbage, to true classics like “Touch Me, I’m Sick,” and “Get Into Yours.” They tied up the evening with a never-ending encore that finished with a series of covers that ran the list of their influences from Black Flag’s “Fix Me,” to The Dick’s “Hate The Police,” and “You Stupid Asshole” from Angry Samoans. The breakneck speed in which they ran through the non-stop set was as impressive as the dedication to their craft. Any band that can last thirty years is as impressive as a venue that can. Cheers to Schubas, congrats to Lincoln Hall hitting ten years strong, and thanks to Metz and Mudhoney for an unforgettable evening that at least left one forty year old nostalgically energized.   

-KPL

Jim James / 📷 : JCB

As I started the four-minute walk to the Riviera Theatre for a show, I started to wonder how much opener Amo Amo took from Jim James during production of their debut album. The My Morning Jacket frontman certainly has his audible watermarks, and I wasn’t sure if the L.A. quintet borrowed them from him or he decided to produce because they had the same psychedelic and prog tendencies he also dabbles in. I was excited to see them, though. They’ve got some seriously infectious tracks on their self-titled debut. I like getting to the venue early. (I like openers – they’ve got something to prove, and they’re working their ass off for whatever crowd is there.) Plus, it’s respectful. Plus plus, I got a free ticket to shoot and review them. So, like, duh I’m going to be there early. But surprise to me – the show was moved to the, (decidedly unwalkable at that time), Vic Theatre. So, as I’m in the cab, I have time to ponder more... Will we get the random psych of his first solo LP, or one of the takes on his latest duo of album of dualities – Uniform Clarity and Uniform Distortion?

Amo Amo started promptly which is usually good to see, but not ideal when you’re running late due to an unknown venue change. After no less than three stern talking-tos by security on where exactly I could stand, I got to work on enjoying these youngins’ brand of funky soul-pop. Singer Love Femme has a saccharin-soaked voice that is perfect for the inviting sea of warm guitars and subtle reggae-tinged background that the band crafted for the aging MMJ fans at the Vic. “Closer to You” is a jam that is a carrier for ataxia. I had to remind myself that I was there to shoot and review the show, rather than give in to my spaghetti arm dancing. “When I Look at You” so closely resembles Jim James’ work that I could have sworn his spectral presence was on stage with them. It’s spacey and harmonically brilliant. The band swayed as the hazy ballad saturated the crowd, and we were powerless to help ourselves from joining in. The band seemed content to stretch the dreamy reverb as far as it would go, confidently holding steady as tracks ebbed and flowed into each other. I honestly lost track of time as I, too, was pulled into the sun-bleached blanket – seriously, though, I was stopped by security because I passed my photog limit of three songs and had to enjoy the remainder of their set from the box seats, which was my first time ever allowed there. (And that, dear readers, is how you capitalize on a foreshadowing). Amo Amo is primed for an afternoon slot at a festival near you. It’s only a matter of time before they come back to Chicago, most likely at Pitchfork or Lolla if C3 has their heads on straight.

Any questions about the mood for the rest of the night were answered immediately upon James’ band launching right into the Uniform Distortion (it is the name of the tour, of course) versions of “Over and Over” and “You Get to Rome.” Those two songs were blistering in a live setting, and a stark contrast to the meandering take on roots that Jim has explored the previous few times I’ve seen him. Call me plum surprised. Interestingly enough, the muddy and lo-fi mix that he used on the album is traveling with him on tour. The guitars are downright dirty, particularly in late-set, “No Use Waiting.” The bassist reveled in his overdone fuzz, as James practically spit the spoken word hook. “Out of Time” started out like a classic Kinks punk rouser until it came completely unhinged with eardrum-shattering solos and flickering lights that would give a blind man epileptic seizures. The lights were so well done during the heavier moments at this show, I could have sworn I was watching a Trent Reznor production.

I’ll admit that MMJ appealed to me initially based on its assumed revival of classic Southern rock. My dad spent a great deal of time blasting .38 Special and Crazy Horse as we toiled away on whatever house he was building at the time. And while I have enjoyed Jim’s, and the band’s, departures from this to what some would call the American Radiohead, it was always to some sort of a lesser degree. This show proved to me that he can turn that sound back on whenever he wants. The grit is there, and the ache is bleeding through his imaginary sleeves. He didn’t interact much with the crowd, choosing to let his lyrics about his reflection on the current state of our world’s obsession with constant connection speak for him. And his voice has never sounded better. “Throwback” had the classic MMJ wails and power strumming that make for one hell of a live performance.

He ended the pre-encore set with “We Ain’t Getting Any Younger Pt. 2” from Eternally Even, which was a nice way to bring in the more experimental sound of yore. While she backed up vocals throughout the set, Amo Amo’s Love Femme was especially great on this track, and encore number, “Of the Mother Again.” The encore ended on “State of the Art,” and what a drawn-out and dissonant end it was. Some Thursdays are spent dreading the last day of the work week, but this one was spent getting absolutely punished by fabulous tunes and a leaving Belmont with a mood that would last for days!

3 songs to check out:

You Get To Rome
Throwback
State of the Art – A.E.I.O.U.

-JCB

Postscript: I’m not a fan of shooting from the sound booth; I never feel like I can immerse myself in the show in the right way. I feel like there should be a petition to end this. However, I work with what I have, and hope you enjoy the different take on the photos.

NEWS & NOTES

• Do Division is this weekend! We’ll be there for every moment of the annual kick off to street fest season! Check out our Summer Fest Guide for the full schedule and all your other Festival needs. We’ll be adding to it all summer long, so make sure to check in weekly to see what new schedules or fests pop up!

• For more Chicago music news check out our friends at Midwest Action and ANCHR Magazine.

• Riot Fest announced their lineup yesterday for their 15th anniversary. And once we picked our jaws up off the floor, we realized it’s going to be one hell of a three days! Get your tix now before they are gone!

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Lots of SOLD OUT shows this week that are not included here

+ Local
^ All Ages

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See you at the show Chicago!