Carter Tanton Is Not In Tulsa Anymore...Or, Come Hear The Murderous Joy Of Free Clouds!...Better, BUY THIS RECORD AND SEE THIS SHOW!

Carter Tanton alone in his room with a magnificent view...

From the opening strains of "Murderous Joy", the leadoff track from Carter Tanton's new release Freeclouds, I instantly remembered what it was that I loved so much about the singer/songwriter's previous incarnation Tulsa. Tulsa was one of those bands that I was infatuated with and was lucky enough to see at 2008's NoisePop Festival in San Francisco. They had a Neil Young-influenced sound that combined jangle and groove, mysterious yet defined, delicate but forceful. At the center was Tanton's ethereal and haunting vocals and guitar. I just assumed I'd have another opportunity to see them play on their next swing through the Bay Area. Fast forward three and half years and I'm finally getting that opportunity in the form of Carter Tanton solo - opening for Purling Hiss and War On Drugs at the Independent this Sunday, October 23rd. The Massachusetts-based Tanton (and latest addition to Baltimore's Lower Dens) brings a unique quality to the "neo-folk" movement - that includes contemporaries like Kurt Vile - and that is a gift for combining yearning with confidence.

His album Freeclouds, out on Western Vinyl, is an exceptional musical statement. At its core are songs that seem born of nights spent strumming an acoustic guitar alone in a bedroom. Listening to a song like "Pitch Bent Flute" you can almost see the sun begin its ascent into the sky when viewed through a window criss-crossed by the iron of fire escapes. The music washes over the listener in waves and layers with Tanton's angelic voice to calm the musical wanderlust. "Fake Pretend" (which features a vocal by Marissa Nadler who Tanton has worked with) plainly states, "I'm nobody's fool but I've got nothing now." What he does have, is a perfect blend of drum machine beats, shimmering effects on densely layered guitars, and some lovely organ carving out his musical landscape. "Gauze of Song" is a dreamlike serenade with the vague sound of horns in the distance and anchored by a bassline that rolls in and out. "Saturday" is a well-crafted ballad with an acoustic refrain that drips with melancholy minus the melodrama. This song is followed by "Horrorscope", a 3:50 second lo-fi gem that is the most reminiscent of his work in Tulsa. The song will make you want to put on your headphones and hit the streets. In fact, it might render you invisible to everyone participating in the street theatre, save for the dumb, knowing grin of glory the song inspires. "Pasture Sounds" even dabbles in dub and reggae characterized by its reverb-drenched beat. There are so many wonders to be found in this album, it truly bears repeated listens to get at all of Freeclouds nuances and subtleties. This is a can't miss album and a must see bill. Tanton will be joined this Sunday at The Independent by two of Philadelphia's best Purling Hiss and War On Drugs. DO NOT MISS THIS SHOW!

PJ Harvey Battles Chatterboxes And iPhones At San Francisco’s Warfield Theatre And Wins!...Or, A Review And Commentary On Why Coachella Is Not Only In The Desert…Or, STILL, An Amazing Artist On Display If People Could Just SHUT UP!

These are the types of photos you get when you can't bring a camera into the show

Coachella for San Franciscans tends to last far longer than the three-days in the desert many are about to participate in. By that I mean, being the next market for bands travelling to and from the perennial “buzz bin” showcase and reunion spawning Woodstock for hipsters, we are blessed in the Bay Area to see many of the bands playing the Indio Polo Fields – all from the comfort of our own slice of far foggier hipster heaven. One of the more highly anticipated Coachella performances is the return of Polly Jean Harvey after several years of touring inactivity stateside. PJ Harvey performed at San Francisco’s Warfield Theatre last night in front of a sold-out crowd of 2,200. Harvey is on tour – by tour I mean last night’s performance, Coachella, and two shows at NYC’s Terminal 5 - supporting her latest release Let England Shake. This album is a rarefied musing on war from various perspectives, done largely in a subdued, British folk tradition, that would feel more current to people from the 19^th century than those expecting the “Sheela-Ne-Gig” exhibitionism of Harvey’s indie-rock past. Harvey is an artist in the truest sense of the word. Her recent albums have reflected her dogged desire to follow whatever muse inspires her, critics and fans alike be DAMNED!

This made for an interesting setting at the Warfield where the packed house was treated to music that required attention, reflection, and perhaps most importantly, quiet, to derive the true benefit of one’s concert dollar. Sadly, save for those packed in tight on the floor and those seated in the balcony, little quiet was on display. The chatter seemed to focus largely on, “how cool it was to FINALLY see her…” and  “What a HUGE fan of her music I am…” and “She’s just soooo GREAT…” BLAH, BLAH, BLAH! This should come as no surprise considering how most concert experiences have become as much a celebration of self as the music everyone gives lip-service to being there to see. As a veteran of the Coachella festival over the last few years, this “Paean to Self” is why I wasn’t interested in attending this year. The shift in recent years has been away from the music and musicians toward the attendees and their triumph of lifestyle as substance. I was hoping to escape some of that seeing Harvey at the Warfield. Alas, I spent a large part of the evening trying to navigate around over-zealous security guards, hell-bent on protecting the sovereignty of the “aisle” – which are seemingly ubiquitous – and the various pockets of chatterboxes or those texting away in a glow of communicative ecstasy. As someone interested in what Harvey had to say, it was a bit distracting to say the least.

A Victorian vision worthy of Heathcliff...photo by RLC

None of the above commentary should detract from the brilliant performance Harvey and her gifted band put on for those that chose to focus on it. A band that included longtime collaborator John Parish (bass, guitar, piano/keyboard, vocal) and legendary Bad Seed, Mick Harvey (guitar and various other instruments), along with a wonderful drummer invoked the songs with the perfect balance of heft and delicacy, which suited the material largely drawn from Let England Shake. Harvey, always an arresting performer, did not disappoint musically or visually. She entered the stage like a feather festooned, Victorian goddess, who had wandered in from a contemplative walk through the moors and crags of Bronte’s Wuthering Heights. Clutching an Autoharp in a full-length, white trumpet style gown with the slightest slit revealing black knee-high Victorian leather boots and adorned with a black-feathered headdress of grandiose proportions, her face paled with theatre makeup, she was set off from the band on stage right. She delivered her songs in a powerful lilt with well-postured conviction. The show was lit using classic theatre lighting of varying shades of white and amber. Having the band offset from Harvey making her “narrator” to the bands actions complemented the stark lighting and staging – too bad this was not more of a theatre-going crowd. Early set highlights included “Let England Shake”, “The Words That Maketh Murder”, and “The Last Living Rose”. Harvey is as understated these days, as she was unhinged during the Dry and Rid Of Me period of her musical career. Even when she strapped on a guitar for songs, “This Is Love” (from Stories From The City, Stories From The Sea) or “Down By The Water” (from To Bring You My Love), she was an exercise in restraint and elegance. Her new album really was the focus of most of the show and songs like “Bitter Branches” and “In Dark Places” are easily as necessary as anything from her revered back catalog. The latter song features the wonderful vocal harmony and interplay between her and Parish. For a album based on a the relatively dark theme of war, Harvey’s songs and treatment of them live bring out the heroism and resoluteness of conviction that often lead us there.

The mysterious PJ Harvey shrouded in the blackness of war...Or, another cheap camera phone pic.

Her near two-hour set was more akin to a theatrical performance than the cathartic RAWK show some may have been expecting. The only words uttered by Harvey were heartfelt thanks at the end of the set and the introduction of her band. When she returned for an encore, which included a deliciously mysterious version of “Angelene” (off Is This Desire), that feeling of catharsis was reached for anyone that followed the dramatic arc of a performance and performer whose idiosyncrasy is rare in music these days. Simply attending a show to say you were there with pictures to prove misses the point of why we value artists in our society. In the case of someone of Harvey’s ability it is to meditate on what it means to be human and why we gather at communal events in the first place. It might just be to feel connected to some common love or celebrate the survival of the daily wars being waged on our sensibilities. In a world of distractions it would be nice if we allowed ourselves a couple of hours to simply focus, and not be distracted.

Beware! This Record May Contribute To Global Warming: The Sonny & The Sunsets "Hit After Hit" Review...

The NEW Sonny and the Sunsets album...the hits keep comin!

People come to San Francisco with expectations that far exceed the city's ability to deliver. The weather here, for one, betrays the California myth of sunshine year-round. It is not always sunny in California as any SF resident will tell you. But nobody told Sonny and the Sunsets on their new album, Hit After Hit, due for release next Tuesday, April 12th on Fat Possum Records. Never has a sunnier collection of songs been assembled to help deliver some much needed vitamin D into our pale-skinned and meteorologically challenged city. This is good news not only for San Franciscans but anyone who wants summer to start NOW! Hit After Hit is the follow-up to 2009's, Tomorrow Is Alright and it represents a more focused album, while losing none of the laid-back, easy charm Sonny and the Sunsets are known for. "She Plays Yo Yo With My Mind" is music made for the few sunny days we see here in SF. I imagine a girl and boy alternateingly zig-zagging their way down Valencia Street on bikes with perma-grins, wind blowing their hair back in a wordless tribute to the carefree. Sonny Smith has a seemingly effortless songwriter's touch for turning the simplest melodies, which, might sound disposable in lesser artists' hands, into something that the world needs to help sweeten our time spent here. Songs like "I Wanna Do It" and "Teenage Thugs" have a familiar quality that you can't quite place because the songs sound timeless. In fact, Sonny Smith is a man out of time. He could have just as easily been topping the charts in 1957, alongside Mikey and Slyvia, as in 1965 positioned next to the Cryan Shames on the charts, or occupying the mid-70's with Jonathan Richmond. The "Sunsets" are Ryan Browne, Tahlia Harbor, and Kelley Stoltz. Stoltz, moonlighting as drummer, and Harbor contribute sweet harmonies throughout Hit After Hit, balancing Smith's tuneful story-telling. "Girls Beware" would be at home on the Dirty Dancing soundtrack and "Home and Exile" will have you reaching for the surfboard you were sure you had. The production on Hit After Hit has the perfect amount of throw-back reverb and early Stax Records inspired production. "The Bad Energy From LA Is Killing Me", in addition to having a wonderful title, is the aural equivalent of the realization that someone spiked your drink with some LSD earlier in the album, AND IT'S KICKING IN! Songs that come after like "Don't Act Dumb" and "Acres of Lust" shimmer and twinkle with psychedelic glory. While this might sound like nothing more than an homage to yesteryear, it is in fact exactly the type of idiosyncratic music that seems missing in the music landscape. These are nice songs performed by nice people in a too often bad world. We all are in need of some fun in the sun. Sonny Smith just asks in album closer "Pretend To Love Me" to , "pretend to love [him], pretend to care." He makes it awful easy with Hit After Hit. Duvet says get your bikes ready, wax up those boards, and  load up the picnic basket because summer begins April 12th with the release of this record.

Sonny And The Sunsets - "I Wanna Do It" by forcefieldpr

Album Review: Caitlin Rose Is On Her Own Side Now And It's Impossible Not To Take Her Side...

Own Side Now, out in the states 3/15/11

In the snark infested world of the blogosphere the approach du jour seems to be, build it up in order to tear it down. “What Duvet Said…” has always held as its unstated mission a commitment to championing artists we feel deserving of praise or mention, while leaving the snark and vitriol to other blogs - figuring acts of omission speak just as loudly and take up less blogspace. Okay, maybe the occasional barb or societal jab, but by and large bringing our readers the best and brightest as determined by, well, us. This is not to say some aren’t better and brighter and all matters “art” are of equal value and shouldn’t be dissected with a critical eye. However, we believe Finnish composer Jean Sibelius said it best, “Pay no attention to what the critics say. A statue has never been erected in honor of a critic.” So with that as our mantra let’s engage in some criticism!

Caitlin Rose’s first full-length release, Own Side Now, will be out tomorrow March 15^th on Theory 8 Records, after already being available in Europe since August of last year. The twenty-three year old Nashville based singer-songwriter has been receiving largely raves for both her album and performances across the pond. Now, she will begin to tackle the more genre obsessed, box-placing American “critirati”. For an artist like Rose, simply classifying her as a “country artist” shortchanges her range as a songwriter and performer. It would be a travesty to label such a phenomenal talent and close her off from audiences that have an aversion to country music. Rose too seems aware of this, when in her song “New York”, she states; “So Tennessee, when I get home/You just better leave me alone/Don’t try to claim me as your own/I’m not the girl I used to be.” Other reviews often site Patsy Cline and Loretta Lynn as musical touchstones or kindred spirits. Sure Own Side Now is steeped in country music’s rich traditions, but like contemporary and fellow Nashvillian Tristen’s recent release Charlatans at the Garden Gate, this is not your mama’s country or even you meemama’s. It’s something unique to this generation of Nashville musicians that have one foot on the Opry stage and the other wherever the hell it feels like stepping!

Rose’s voice is strong and powerful which makes a song like title track, “Own Side Now” sound like a declaration of finally finding inner-strength and not just another empty promise made from an empty bed. The songs on this album are perfectly instrumented, keeping the focus on the essential elements: lyrics and voice. There are some occasional strings and brushed drums match the tempo of windshield wipers on a long drive to or away from a broken love. “For The Rabbits” conjures the 50’s with its staccato guitar and swelling backups on the chorus. When Rose sings, “So fall back into my absent arms/Fall back into routine disaster/Habit's the only place that you call home”, it could very well soon be directed to Rose herself. Soon she will be finding herself the absent one. Constant touring lends itself to habits, rituals, and experiences that are impossible to share with those outside this bubble. Success further insulates you from connecting with the “simpler life” chronicled in many artists’ earlier material. Already, we see the strains of realizing dreams on Own Side Now starting to surface, as opposed to the dreams themselves chronicled on Dead Flowers. It will be interesting to witness this young artist coming to terms with her life through song - which is Rose’s gift - as the foundation for her experiences continues to shift away from the familiar and into more surreal setting of music industry success.

Guitarist Jeremy Fetzer joins Caitlin Rose at 2010 ACL Festival in Austin, TX

The song that most encapsulates Caitlin Rose’s ability to mesh lyrical acuity with hooks that already seem timeless is in “Shanghai Cigarettes”. Unlike many of Music City’s more manufactured superstars, who will remain nameless, Rose comes off as the genuine article and it becomes hard to separate her from the characters in her songs. That is what makes the heartaches more intense and the triumphs more inspirational. When she describes love as “useless” in “Spare Me” we know she doesn’t mean it. The undercurrent of a woman coming into her own and the darkened realizations that go along with that growth permeate Own Side Now. Nowhere on this record is that sentiment better captured than on “Things Change”, where there is a singular pride emerging out of the murk of the orchestral musical backing. There truly is something occurring on this album that goes beyond simply a collection of songs. We witness an artist making a statement about who she is now and who she’d like to be one day. Sometimes the message is masked in bravado, sometimes it’s left bare and exposed but it’s always authentic and compelling. Do yourself a favor and buy Caitlin Rose’s Own Side Now. Go home, put it on, and in the words of Paul Westewrberg, “knock it back with something, sweet and strong.” That’s Caitlin Rose in a nutshell.