Hot Snakes
Is there a link between neoconservatism and the recent rock revival? Both cultural phenomena have flourished in our young century, and both thrive on a collective nostalgia for something simpler, more familiar. Can the Strokes credit their success to "staying the course?" Isn't the Hives' bravado sorta Karl Rove-esque? Could W actually stand for the White Stripes?
If so, Hot Snakes might be the next Dick Cheney of rock-and-roll. Performing at the Black Cat on Thursday, the raucous foursome does its work far from the media spotlight, creating a sinister, no-frills brand of punk rock that never says, "I'm sorry."
Hot, but not red hot: The Hot Snakes (from left, John Reis, Mario Rubalcaba, Gar Wood and Rick Froberg) brought a blue-state mentality to the Black Cat.
(Chris Woo)
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But don't expect the veep to flash his winning smile on the band's politics. "Don't go to Harvard / Don't go to Yale / your disposition will only make you fail / They got a braintrust / They got a bloodlust," singer-guitarist Rick Froberg sneered during "Braintrust." The president-making machinery of the Ivy League wasn't Froberg's only target. The man let the malice fly during songs such as "Let It Come" (a rant against consumerism) and "I Hate the Kids" (self-explanatory).
Drummer Mario Rubalcaba matched Froberg's ferocity, absolutely punishing his drum kit. Guitarist, and Rocket From the Crypt frontman, John Reis played with a glowering intensity rarely seen from a musician moonlighting with another group. Somehow, bassist Gar Wood was the only member to make it through the Hot Snakes' pummeling repertoire without furrowing his brow. As the band closed their set with "Think About Carbs," a riotous screed aimed at the Atkins culture, Wood flashed an amused smile.
Despite all the venom, it was nice to see these Snakes having the last laugh.
-- Chris Richards
Andrew Bird
Originally inspired by ethnic fiddle music, hot jazz (he frequently played with the Squirrel Nut Zippers) and the strange twists of early 20th-century recordings, Andrew Bird's compositional style has evolved into something highly personal. At Jammin' Java on Thursday night, the Chicago-based artist performed as a kind of one-man band, using electric guitar, plucked and sawed violin, samplers and delay effects. But the real drive was all human: Bird's moving vocals and haunting whistling.
Covering almost two hours and drawing mainly from Bird's most recent recordings -- "Weather Systems" from 2003 and "The Mysterious Production of Eggs," due out in February -- the show was filled with lush passages in which overlapping violin lines conjured the dreamscapes that seem to inspire his lyrics. He spoke of "a series of songs about the Apocalypse and furniture, both indoor and out" at one point, and though he did indulge his penchant for the oblique, songs such as "I," "First Song," "Sovay" and "Lull" were direct emotional hits. Newer songs inspired thoughts of lonely Gypsy fiddles, Bing Crosby and broad-paletted rock bands like Shrimp Boat, but Bird's commanding singing and amazing whistling somehow tied them together sensibly. And if the set wasn't as cohesive and smooth as a full-band performance might have been, it was still quite thrilling, a trip into territory few contemporary musicians have the vision even to imagine attempting.
Singer/songwriter Jenny Toomey, with help from Ida's Dan Littleton, opened the show with a series of songs that were by turns delicate and funny, all delivered in an agreeably low-key style.
-- Patrick Foster
