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.

The Soft Cedar Smell of Sexy...Or, Occupational Therapists Get No Respect! Or, STILL, Bambi's Bodacious Boulders And How Austin Puts The Shock In Chakra!

Duck Duck Goose now an Olympic event with an elite training center

Hey, buddy! Can you keep a secret? Let’s hope so, because this week’s episode of Make It or Break It was a fertile ground of secrets to share, secrets to shatter, secrets to uncover, and secrets that kill! Grab some of Kim’s pork chops and pass the corn medley, because there’s quite a meal in Boulder this week, and you’re going to need the buddy system to chew through it.

New coach Darby is once again tapping into her inner pagan by using the classic “Reverse Duck Duck Goose” model of positive reinforcement. The girls of The Rocky Mountain Gymastics Center are sitting in a non hierarchal circle, offering compliments to Payson in the mush pot. Payson and Lauren are doing as good of a job hiding their snippy dislike of being co-captains as they are hiding that they’re ogling the boys on the rings. Darbs has just the solution to this rivalry, in the fan-flippin’-tastically named exercise called ‘Learn My Routine.’ Since it’s entirely unclear by the name, she goes on to explain this is when gymnasts buddy up and learn each others’ routine. I’m hoping later on in the season Darby will straighten out just what goes on at the vaguely named “Pizza Shack,” since I’ve been puzzled just what that name means.

The Caitlin Rose Makes Her SF Debut At Cafe Du Nord And A Beautiful City Just Got More Beautiful...Or, Be True To Your School...

The Caitlin Rose...photo by RLC

Young musicians playing live these days often come in a variety of “packages”, with several stances on display. You have “youth in revolt”, middle finger proudly raised, rallying against the world. “Apathetic youth” with hangdog disaffection and a hint of apology on full display. “Earnest youth” trying to win you over with willful community building exercises. Then there is something rarer, subtler and less contrived, performers that both exude a natural confidence, while at the same time, bearing a real and unfiltered vulnerability. I witnessed one such performer at San Francisco’s Café Du Nord opening for Ron Sexsmith on Thursday night. The performer should not be a stranger to the readers of this blog but to San Francisco she is largely unknown. Caitlin Rose was in town to mark her SF debut in support of her highly acclaimed full-length album, Own Side Now. This Nashville singer-songwriter - accompanied by Jeremy Fetzer on guitar and Spencer Cullum Jr on pedal steel – played a forty-five minute set of some of the prettiest, heartfelt, and wry songs that belie the relatively young age of Rose. Many reviewers point to pedigree to explain her precocious grasp of human nature and love’s true ways – Caitlin’s mother Liz is an acclaimed songwriter. But Liz Rose didn’t live these particular experiences, love these boys and put these words, melodies, and chords together, Caitlin did. So we can dispense with the backstory and get to the reviewing.

Three was a magic number at Cafe Du Nord...photo by RLC

It was refreshing to see a scaled back line-up, offering a break from the more traditional “rock band” set up. This really suited the individual playing and put the focus firmly on Rose’s emotive and powerful voice and the words being emitted. The older crowd gathered were largely there to see Sexsmith but many had heard the “buzz” Rose has created in Europe – where she has been whole-heartedly embraced. With each song the audience moved closer and the room filled in. Rose has an easy charm, a combination of the girl-next-door with the girl-you-wouldn’t-want-to-cross. Opener “Learning to Ride” was treated gently and served as a perfect introduction to her songs for the unfamiliar audience. The interplay between Fetzer and Cullum Jr. was a real pleasure to watch, both are studies in restraint and how one well-placed note speaks volumes.

Pay attention, you might learn something. RLC

Rose’s gifted voice can ache with the best of country music’s hallowed female singers she often gets compared to. But, there is a modern quality to how she approaches a traditional form. Her songs have just as much in common with Jackson Browne as Patsy Cline. When she played “Own Side” the stage seemed to dissolve into a bedroom, with Rose strumming her guitar, while purging the demons of her self-destructive nature on the edge of her bed. Her intro to the song “New York” was an interesting moment to watch an artist come to terms with the change in meaning for one of their songs. She noted that the song was originally written as a slag against a city she may not have been ready for yet and an unwelcomed invitation she received there but time, travel, and experience made the song come off more as a celebration of the triumphs the city represents.

Jeremy Fetzer...photo by RLC

“Spare Me” was a great mid-tempo tune that allowed Fetzer to cut lose and display some fine leads. He dials in the classic tone you associate with country music, while also underlying Rose’s vocal flourishes with subtle, delicately picked notes. The same can be said for Cullum Jr.’s truly wonderful atmospheric playing. Both musicians are steeped in the tradition without feeling soulless in the execution. If there is any justice in the music world the song “Shanghai Cigarettes” will not only be a huge hit – replacing some of the inexplicable “hits” topping country charts currently – but also, be covered by as many artists and in as many different languages as possible. Yes, it’s that good a song. It is much more in the pop vein structurally and may be a window into the types of songs Rose is capable of writing in the future. This song had every butt in the room tick-tocking in time with the driving chorus. For me one of the highlights of the set was a song that I’d never heard her perform and was treated very differently than on the album, “Comin Up”. It showcases Rose’s vulnerability as an artist and then shifts in the middle section into a bawdy honky-tonk stomp. The song captures Caitlin Rose at this point in her career, confident in who she is and tough enough to allow her personal and emotional flaws to be exposed. She is able to translate that as a performer in a way that is not affected or a stance but genuine. By the end of the set the audience was at a Caitlin Rose show as sure as they thought they were at the Ron Sexsmith show.

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

Auto Erotic Asphixiation, Glastonbury, Mocha Frappuchino A La Comode, And Ehter-Huffing Hippies: The Ttotals Interview In Its Totality...Or, Carlito's Way Or The Highway, Derrida Does Number Two!

Marty and Brian are the Ttotal package...

Look, I'm well aware that I am ramming Nashville down your readerly throats. But Ttotals is different. This duo from Music City make some of the best drone-rock and ambient headspace music anywhere in the country. AND! More people need to know about them! PLUS! They love Carlito's Way and question the authenticity and substance of the Black Eyed Peas. This is a band that brings a torrent of  No Wave fury! Imagine the Velvet Underground mixing drugs with Spaceman 3 and then jamming the morning after. So kick back and relax, get a nice glass of sweet tea and learn a little something about a band that is both entertaining and committed to "peeling faces off" with their brand of "country".


WDS- So, for those that don’t know of Ttotals, give a bit of a background on how this band got off the ground? You know the “stats”…

Brian- Marty and myself played in the Heathern Haints together. We were a sort of a lo-fi, ghost rider and ether-huffing trio. Our hippie little brother, Tim, left the “Haints” in late ‘09 for his family back in Virginia. When Tim left we were sort of stuck and had to find a way to keep a band going. We had a few unfinished songs lying around. And eventually some of those became the 4 songs on the 12”.

Marty- Tim was, and is, a dirty little hippie. When we were a trio I played a Casio through a bunch of guitar effects pedals. I never huffed ether intentionally.

WDS- Why the choice to keep it a duo with guitar and drums as opposed to bringing in a bass player? What does that bring to the band’s sound?

Marty- My dad played bass expertly in a ton of bands for years, and then he started playing guitar, with marginal results. I’ve always said that his difficulties with the guitar prove that counting to six is much harder than counting to four.

Brian- Yeah, we did try to find a bass player early on, but no one seemed to be a good fit or be into what we were trying to do. We felt like we could accomplish more as a duo than by adding more members. So, at that point we had been playing, like, 3 years together. And who wants to come in and try to mix it up with two dudes that know how to play and be smartasses with each other.

WDS- Ttotals doesn’t sound like anybody I’ve heard come out of Nashville. You are definitely not in the country scene and really don’t share too much in common with the more “garage-y” bands I’ve heard on Infinity Cat (i.e: JEFF the Brotherhood, Natural Child, Pujol…etc.). How would you describe the band’s sound and what scene or bands to you guys feel you connect with?

Brian- Well, we are a little bit older than a lot of those guys. And we tend to lean a bit toward being lone guns. Not to say we don’t get along with any of them, but we run in a different crowd. We would totally play with any of the Infinity Cat roster. We feel we could play with just about anyone and do. It is not about being part of any one scene. It is about doing and making things happen and having a bigger picture mind set. We play the “Outer Blues”. Take that as a description.

Marty- How dare you. I thought we were playing country?

WDS- When I hear Ttotals and the one time I saw you play in SF at the Hemlock Tavern, I was reminded of early SST bands. Particularly, early Sonic Youth, SWANS, and some of the more “arty” No Wave bands out of NYC in the early 80’s. Who were some of your musical influences? What bands would people be surprised to know you enjoy listening to?

Brian- We dropped the ball on getting with you right after our Hemlock show. Marty and I grew up listening to all those great SST bands: Husker Du, Black Flag and the like. It is a part of our history, for me particularly Sonic Youth, and comes out naturally. We are both into bands like Dead C and Pussy Galore. We are of course way into English bands like Spacemen 3 and Comet Gain. We also can’t forget about The Strapping Fieldhands as well. Oh, and The Oblivions. We pretty much, I feel, wear our influences on our sleeves. But I hope we make it our own. Speaking of SST Have you ever read “Rock and the Pop Narcotic” by former SST guy Joe Carducci? If any of you all have not read it. You need to get it. Very much I think a recommended read.

Marty- Did you know originally Coil was supposed to do the soundtrack for Hellraiser?  Pretty cool, huh?

WDS- How do you get that HEAVY sound on record? Could you talk about how the record was recorded and what you use on stage to bring the DRONE to life in front of an audience?

Sun Ra...

Brian- Early on we used a secret weapon called “the Peav”. This was a guitar tuned in a drone chord (it was more of a baritone strung guitar tuned to an open unison tuning) and plugged into different effect pedals and set to feedback and drone the entire show. It was an unyielding beast and would make people cry. We wanted something to take up space sonically in the songs. Now Marty has samples that he manipulates with effects and a foot-controller. We recorded the 12” over at Battle Tapes, which is run by our friend Jeremy Ferguson. I started to use 2 different guitar amps around this time as well. One is a clean guitar signal. Just plugged straight into the amp. The other amp is my dirty signal. All sorts of effects and fuzz go through there. So, we have all those guitar tones and a more controllable, sustainable drone. So, yeah, that is pretty much how we get our sound. We also used this huge bass cabinet for the clean guitar parts on the recording. Which gives nice bottom end to everything. At first, we were out to prove something. Just speaking for myself. I had to get comfortable with being a duo, so we kind of set out to rip people apart and peel some skulls back. Which we were all like, “We play Rock music! Don’t like it, tough.” Now, I’m really more into seeing what all we can do as a duo making music and not just here is the Rock. We can definitely Rock.

Marty- While we were making the record I kept getting calls from this guy I know who was trying to get off rock cocaine, and he had this penchant for “rescuing” prostitutes.  Total Taxi Driver situation, minus the mohawk and murder. I told him he should focus on getting himself well first, but he just couldn’t help himself. It made me sad, but what are you gonna do? Anyway, compression and EQ were a big part of that pounding sound.  We also re-mixed pretty dramatically for vinyl.

WDS- I know you have some Summer tours planned, mostly on the East Coast, what are the challenges touring bands face out there on the road (besides the high price of gas)? Any good road stories?

Brian- We do have our “DooDoobucks” we stop at while we are on the road. That is what we call a Starbucks to take shit in. You know, because they are usually cleaner than a gas station and also stocked with toilet paper. Everyone has always been nice and very accommodating to us. We’ve been extremely lucky. I do have a story from back in the day before I got hooked-up with Marty. A very nice guy let my old band crash at his place for a night. He woke us up, dressed only in his tighty-whiteys, in the wee hours of the morning to videotape him masturbating with a plastic shopping bag over his head. I’m not kidding. We declined and at first light ran for the door.

Marty- I met my lovely girlfriend on tour this last summer.  We knew about each other on the internet from doing videos (I did the music on a Quizno’s ad with punk rock cats!), and thought it would be good to meet each other out of professional courtesy. I kept telling Brian the whole way out that I wasn’t gonna hit on her, ‘coz I’m a “professional” ‘n stuff, but when we met, she attacked me, and I have very poor impulse control. Now we live together in Nashville and she tells me to do things and I do them.

WDS- What would people be surprised to know about a band like Ttotals? Outside of music, what are you guys into?

Brian- I like baseball. How about those Giants? I don’t know about you, but I do fear Brian Wilson’s beard. A bit of baseball/music trivia; Do you know where Yo La Tengo got their name? Hint: It’s from a former NY Met outfielder. I helped record Lambchop’s Nixon. I also geeked-out on Pete Kember when he played in Nashville. I was very nervous, so I think it made him nervous. He hasn’t been back since.

That's why they sound so alien in Music City?

Marty- Xbox 360.  My gamertag is “wht lt wht ht”, and I will destroy your ass at Battlefield: BC 2, or any Call of Duty. Look me up, and your ass will be destroyed. By me.

WDS- If you could put together any bill with bands (together now or from the past) for Ttotals to play with (any genre), what would that bill look like and where would the show be held?

Marty- Jay Z, Os Mutantes, and Prince, with showings of Purple Rain, Scarface and Carlito’s Way in between bands. Is this a good place to mention how much I dislike the Black Eyed Peas? ‘Coz I really dislike them. I’m not even sure why; they just rub me the wrong way. It’s like they’re trying too hard or something.

Brian- Okay, I will try to narrow it down. Velvet Underground, The Pastels, Spacemen 3 doing all 13^th Floor Elevator covers, like a 20 minute version of “Roller Coaster” or something, Times New Viking and us. It would either be at Royal Albert Hall or the Fillmore.

WDS- What do you have coming up on the horizon? Projects, records, collaborations?

Brian- We have a cassette coming out on No Kings. Our friend Lee Noble runs that little cassette label out in L.A. It is from our live in-store at Grady’s Record Refuge. Expect that one mid-summer. It will be out just in time for our first outing east, Washington D.C. and back.

Marty- A martial arts/hot guitar licks instructional video, for one thing. Don’t listen to Brian; I’ve been to D.C. My mom took me there when I graduated high school, and I had a girlfriend that moved out there I visited, so “first outing east?” I don’t think so. I’ve been to New York before too, so there. I wanna go to London. I wanna play at Glastonbury, too, ‘coz my girlfriend’s English and she says Stonehenge is really cool. I got a thing about crowds, though, and apparently there’s like a shit ton of people there(Glastonbury, not Stonehenge), so I’m not sure if we’re doing that yet. Maybe if they brought me in a helicopter so I wouldn’t have to deal with the crowds.

Brian- Jeez. I was talking as a band. Also do you think we are Led Zeppelin or something? Oh, hopefully we will be headed to NYC in early fall.

WDS- What’s the story behind the name and the spelling?

Brian- We wanted something different and easy to recognize. It was really a typo that stuck.

Marty- Well, it used to be when you “Googled” ttotals, you’d see all this math stuff about the “nth term” ‘n shit, but apparently now there’s some jazz about our band, so my story about the name won’t work. Stupid Google.

WDS- Where would you like to see the band in 5 years?

Brian- 5 more records under our belt and all of ‘em out on Siltbreeze (Tom, Hint - Hint). Several more tours, including a European and having fun doing it all.

Marty- Glastonbury via helicopter.

 Ridiculous But Necessary Questions

What is your favorite cheese?  

Brian- Wensleydale, because of Wallace and Gromit

Marty- nacho

EVOL or Daydream Nation? 

Brian- Don’t make me pick between “Tom Violence” or “Eric’s Trip”.
Marty- Nice try.  Everyone knows the correct answer is Dial “M” for Motherfucker.

Taylor Swift or Miranda Lambert? 

Brian- I guess I have to go with Taylor Swift. We are from the same home town.

Marty- My girlfriend says I can’t sleep with either, or both.

Nietzsche or Kant? 

Brian- Marty you were the philosophy major at Rhodes.

Marty- I knew a guy who walked in on Derrida taking a dump.

A month in the van with anyone (your pick)?  

Brian- Zack Galifianakis, Even though I think Due Date is one of the worst movies ever made.

Marty- I would like a month in the van inside another van, so I could ride while I ride, son.

Brian- Damn! I forgot about that one.

There’s A New Sheriff In Town – And She’s A Hugger! Or, Duvet Hears Baby Steps Coming Towards Boulder...Or, STILL, Lauren's Redeeming Qualities? We Got None Either.

Raise your paw if you think this season is Rocking?

Hello faithful MIOBI-ers, welcome back to the crisp clean air of Boulder, Colorado, where freedom rings. This weeks episode of Make It or Break It covered all things freedom - freedom from rehab, freedom from rules, freedom from parole, freedom from having to spend every free moment at the Pizza Shack and exploring new venues. Hey, anyone want a Spruce Juice? They come in orange and red! But freedom is fleeting and may come with a price. So strap on your leo, chalk up your hands, and pre-visualize your landing, because we are bowing to the powerful goddesses in us all in episode 2012.

Sensitive artist Kaylie contemplates hacking off her ear.

We first find Kaylie with a blank canvas - literally. Forced into rehab slave labor to express herself with art, Kaylie is taking some quick tips from her devilish roommate on how to speak fluent Recovery and get herself out of this sunny hell hole before World Competitions start. Shes already gained three pounds - in attitude! Meanwhile, The Rock gymnasts seem to be doing just fine without a head coach, although one would think those nameless, soundless assistant coaches in red shirts running around in the background with clipboards could raise a finger. When did The Rock become the Starship Enterprise? I just know one of those assistant redshirt coaches are going to be sent on an away mission and beaten up by a Gorn. It is up to the firm but heavy hand of Payson, who has taken on the duties training, cracking the whip over Emily and Lauren while the adorable little girl with the big eyes asks for her to inspire her dreams. But Lauren is back to her evil ways, clubbing seals, kicking dogs, and plotting to bring a ringer in to be the new coach.

And that new coach is former Silver Medal Olympian Darby - whom we will call Darbs with a squeal, and she will jump up and down, grin with more teeth than I've ever seen, and lead us in pagan rituals. An ebullient mix of Eastern philosophy, Plastic Ono Band, and Black Panther, Darbs leads by trust and friendship, rather than such passé things like 'rules' and 'routine.' After all, oppression encourages rebellion. If there's nothing to rebel against, these rogues will just shrug and come in to the gym, won't they?

Payson is not convinced. Nor is Emily, and we are treated to probably the greatest string of reaction shots ever as the two of them take in Lauren's professing to be team coach, now that Kaylie is out of the picture. Pay, fueled by her mother's tradition of serving fresh fruit in clear bowls on her kitchen island, pipes up to say that she should be team captain, not Lauren. She goes on to say if Sasha were there, they would have a competition to decide. Darbs puts the idea to a vote, and the Mini Meet is on! But first, new coach Darby does a solid for every male watcher in the audience that had to sit through Big Hunks last week and does a routine on the bars in a spectacularly complimentary black leo. She also earns some begrudging respect from Payson. Turns out the new coach actually has chops.

Kaylie has a big show to put on herself for the rehab goddess. She has been properly briefed on which buzz words to say and how to say them, and, pulling the wool over this expert's eyes and her parents, she is free to go home. Elated, she is already picking out her outfit for Worlds when she is told that she cannot start training. Free but not free, she is encouraged to pick up another interest like singing. "I hate singing," she says, and we get another fantastic reaction shot from her mother, former pop star Ronnie. By the way, am I the only one dying to hear any of Ronnie's recordings? Is there a Ronnie and Damon duet in the cards?

I hope she likes juice as much as I do? Or, Damon comes back from LA a juice addict.

After all, Damon is back in Boulder. At the Spruce Juice! Turns out he is uninspired writing music in LA and has been sent back to find his muse in Boulder. And there's his muse now, Emily Kmetko, no longer shackled by her ankle-monitoring bracelet and free from that pesky probation officer (farewell, Marsha Clark! We hardly knew ya). With the relaxed hippy rules Darbs has for The Rock nowadays, Emily is free to date, free to have a boyfriend, free to give up her virginity. What a relief!

Love is in the air everywhere, and we check in with Lauren's father Steve, who, I kid you not, says to Summer, "before I destroyed your faith in me, we had something special. Didn't we?" What a smooth talker! Or maybe it's that see-through red wine he's serving. Should have let that bottle ferment a little longer, Steve. Summer swoons, though, but shes got a caveat: Steve can keep nothing from her ever again. No lies, no nothing. This suits the changed Steve, who's got an announcement to make,and by simply calling over his shoulder, his mighty voice echoes through the entire house, interrupting the slumber party Lauren and Darby are having. Seems Darbs and LoLo were BFFs years ago at NGO camp, and now Darby is staying with the Tanners, looking gorgeous in her jammies while Lauren reads BM magazine. Seriously? Did she swipe that from Kaylie's rehab? Does that girl have no morals whatsoever? Apparently not, as she plants more seeds of rumor about Payson and Sasha in Darby's willing ears. But Lauren plods down the hall to get the news that it's official - Steve and Summer are back together. Which instantly means to Lauren that they are getting married and she has a mommy now! Maybe it was just me, but it kind of looked like Summer was still thinking about being all over Sasha in that tight office at The Rock.

I think they're finally gonna do it! LET'S GET READY TO TUMBLE!!

Emily returns home from a magical evening reclined in the front seat of Damon's car, wishing on shooting stars. She enters her front door to find the man who works at night, Don Draper lite from the NGO, who was looking less suave this week and more like Phil Dunphy playing dress-up. I think he's popping by in the middle of the night trying to catch Chloe in her work outfit again. He comes bearing a restrictive, no-life contract and an ultimatum: Emily, if you are to be on the National Team, you are to do nothing but practice at the gym and go home. No boyfriends. No job. No eating. No breathing. No blogging. And most of all, no virginity losing. Of course, its up to her. With the freedom of choice, she can choose to sign the contract, or she can choose to be happy with the love of her life, droopy-eyed, messy haired Damon. Whats a dedicated Pizza Shack employee to do?

The pains of being pure at heart.

I know - get in touch with The Source! Yes, dippy Darby is dripping in Dharma in the get-here-whenever-you-can morning practice, but she's doing a bang-up job guiding a morning meditation because everyone there is so actively attuned to the underlying silence that they are completely unobservant of Emily and Paysons outside voice conversation happening right next to them. Hey, redshirt assistant coach that's just the sort of obliviousness that gets guys like you eaten by a Horta!

Speaking of eating, Mrs. Cruz is thrilled to distract her daughter from her illness by opening up the secret vault in this enormous mansion they live in so that Kaylie has a room to work on art. Little did we know the gold record hanging in the living room was just one piece of memorabilia in the Ronnie empire; Casa de Cruz has an entire recording studio in the west wing, overflowing with magazine covers, awards, more gold records, and a larger-than-life size standee of a younger, bigger haired Ronnie, taken in the olden days before red eye reduction was freely available. With a twinge of regret, Ronnie goes to get a single cardboard box to pack up just the things that are in the way, but Kaylie has already started by tossing - I think it may be an Telly trophy or some carved ice - into the framed "Legs Only" gold record on the wall. Seems Kaylie is trying to make a point to her dad - she's healthy! She's well! She needs to train! She's an athlete! Only Dad can understand that! I'm beginning to see how Lauren and Kaylie got to be such close friends. Come back, sweet Kaylie from seasons past, we miss you. Here's hoping you actually get some recovery because you are getting less healthy by the minute.

Visualize...Actualize!

Back at The Rock, the sage, crystals, and scented candles are tucked away for the big competition between Lauren and Payson to determine who will be team captain. We learn a bit about Payson's process she envisions herself doing her routine before she does so whereas Lauren just hops on up and runs in recklessly. But look at Payson go! Emily is there, cheering her on, and I cant help but be impressed once again by the ability of this show to make momentous occasions go by just like they do in real life. Things just happen sometimes, and we're not aware of how big the occasion is until time and perspective put it into place. It was just over a year ago that Payson was in a back brace, told she could never do gymnastics again, slumming around with a cheerful glasses-wearing public school nerd. (Who I miss desperately - can we get Heather back on the show? Love her!) And now, without Sasha, without her parents, without Counselor Troi looking on, she performs a flawless parallel bar routine for the first time since her accident. And then, unceremoniously, she moves on to the beam. I don't know about you, but I leapt from my seat Payson Keeler has returned! Let's hope she doesn't start screwing around with that vexing shutterbug boy and ruin everything.

Whatevs...Daddy's little girl.

The big competition ends in a tie, thanks to Lauren actually doing what Lauren does best - rocking on the beam. I love when Lauren is good at gymnastics; she talks such smack, and she is a whiny baby most of the time, but when she gets up and delivers the goods, I can almost forgive her. Well, except for the clubbing baby seals part. Darbs cant honor just one goddess so she makes both winners co-captains, much to the anger of Lauren. She storms home to daddy to pull the you-let-my-mom-die card on him again, enumerating the sacrifices she has made, including spilling the beans about her masterminding the leaking of the Sasha-Payson kiss picture to the NGO. Oops - looks like Steve has a big choice to make. He spoke pretty large about kicking the person out of The Rock who let the photo out and he's promised to not lie to Summer. Who gets his trust now - baby Lauren or lovey Summer?

We close out on Kaylie's continued descent into the dark side, as her evil roommate from rehab eggs her on to grab a little Damon action. Emily has confided in Kaylie that Damon is back in town over some Spruce Juice, and he has given so much of himself to Emily, and she has given him nothing in return. Kaylie has the perfect idea - why not give him Mom's recording studio? That way he can finish his record in Boulder and I can get my fantasy Damon / Ronnie single! Or wait - is Kaylie going to be singing with Damon? I know I should be happy for Emily and Damon, but when Emily shows up at his well-appointed hipster apartment to say she is signing the contract and swearing off boys until the NGO says she can date again, I felt a foreboding. She's not going to sign the contract until she gives Damon her most special prize. Fade to black as Damon gets his wish from the shooting star.

Oh, Emily. Has Lauren taught you nothing? Has your mother? Is this going to end well for Damon and Emily? Will Kaylie move her exercise walker into the recording studio? Will Steve do what is right? Is Darby's loosey goosey coaching style actually going to work? Who coaches the inner goddesses of the boys, anyway? We're just getting started this season and things are already churning up, MIOBI-style. Can't wait for more. Namaste!

Salem Witch Trial At 103 Harriet Nothing More Than Smoke, Mirrors, And Strobes...Or, The Soft Moon Kill It And That Should Not Be Any Kind Of Controversy...

Death by fire or bad wordplay? Salem's Jack Donaghue spits...photo by RLC

First off, let's dispel with the notion that Salem are "controversial". Piece after piece I've read about the mid-western electronic collective, creators of music that is known as much for the esoteric descriptors attached to it than, well, the music they create and perform, inevitably mentions the word controversy in some context. Because bloggers and music tastemakers are unable to pin down a sound with all the colorful adjectives at their disposal is not controversial. Nor is the problem of Salem being completely uneven live. The first points to a need to put things in nice little boxes or create "new" nice little boxes - remember "chillwave". Salem mix genres in a way that is either inventive, off-putting, or ridiculous, depending on what your threshold is for Goth-meets-Crunk-meets-Ambient-meets (insert recondite word of choosing). That said, the absence of unifying descriptor doesn't make for controversy, it makes for a lack of vision. The fact that so many bloggers and "tastemakers" are confounded by a band may feel "controversial" to them in an existential, "what is the meaning of Salem and why must I feel obliged to join the choir of finger-pointers in outing this wicked musical witch, that is intent on corrupting the good puritan journalism of easy contexting, that works so well with search engine optimizing." The second, and perhaps more dastardly hoax being portrayed on audiences is the live performance part of the Salem quotient.

Treated to fog on one of the few foggless nights in SF...photo by RLC

Wednesday saw their delayed San Francisco debut at 103 Harriet, brought to us by the fine people over at Blasthaus Productions. Now, once and for all the "controversy" would be settled by people actually seeing the "controversial" band after two years of being force-fed a steady diet of "this is the best/worst thing to hit music since skiffle." Much has been made of them getting booed off stage at SXSW last year for, by all accounts, sucking. The "Giles Corey" (this is a reference worthy of Google-ing) of Salem is Jack Donoghue, the rapper/laptop-er/musical lighting rod of Salem. Let's end some controversy shall we, he's not a very good rapper and this is confusing to many people who see them. Rap by it's very nature is confrontational and for a band based more in the Goth tradition than any other, which traditionally likes to remain in the dark shadows of societies nether regions, this is incongruous. The sound Salem can generate on stage can be very impressive. Augmented by fog machines on TEN and strobe lights that go to ELEVEN, you have a nice aural/visual pairing. Then there's the rapping? One big factor that did not play well for Donoghue was the DJ's choice to play some classic Jay Z songs and mash-ups immediately before Salem hit the stage. It simply highlighted the lack of flow and linguistic creativity he brings to the "Crunkier" side of Salem's music. This was masked in production on their generally well-recieved album King Night, but live it serves as a jarring reminder that, "It's tricky to rock a rap that's right on time, it's tricky..."

Salem's Heather Marlatt makes the ultimate sacrifice...photo by RLC

The great sacrifice of this comes to bear on Salem member Heather Marlatt, who provides wonderfully tranceful vowels, in addition to synths. I say vowels because that was all I could make out above the rumbling din coming off the stage. To continue the metaphor, Marlatt is the "Elizabeth Proctor" of Salem. She of rich tone and mesmerizing understated presence, proudly and defiantly taking her stand on stage as the fog and clamor of the music rise up from her feet to eventually engulf her. It was these songs that featured Marlatt and upon re-examining Salem's album where the "oracular visions" and "stupendous witchcraft" emanate from. This is where the band coalesces around a vision that, while not as "controversial", is gratifying live. Enter the Donag-WU and we are back to the head-scratching and "controversy". Oh! And, there is a guy in the backline of musicians that wears a ski-mask. By midway through their set the room was beginning to thin and I assume that the HYPE had subsided into a fairly cut and dry decision of, "Yay or Nay" on Salem. As with another famous case associated with the word Salem, hysteria often leads to controversial applications of judgement. The music blogosphere in many respects has been heading down the same trajectory as early puritanical America. We loves us some witch hunts! The problem is there are very few ways, still, to verify a witch beyond paranoia, confusion, and blind faith in a higher power - read Pitchfork.

Style meet Substance. SF's The Soft Moon @ 103 Harriet...photo by RLC

Another popular storyline in music is style over substance. In the case of San Francisco's, The Soft Moon, it is good to have both. Led by Luis Vasquez (also of SF's other substantial musical unit Lumerians), The Soft Moon are a fully realized extension of 80's and 90's industrial-dance-Goth demigods like Joy Division, Bauhaus, Ministry, and a splash of the Cure. This trio has been documented well in this blog here so I will be brief. They are a very entertaining and inspiring band live. Their album available below on Captured Tracks, is one of the best records to come out last year. Their sound conjures a scorched earth when viewed free floating away from your space shuttle, after having the line that tethered you to the ship release unexpectedly. It's both driving to a point and expanding infinitely at the same time. On one of the few truly fogless nights San Francisco has seen in months, the packed room was imported with fog and enough strobe lighting to induce a seizure. These stage effects go perfectly with a band that trades on mystery delivered with unexpected hooks. Songs like "Breathe the Fire" and "Circles" command that the audience move, lost in a  fever dream set to 130 bps. The 45 minute set was captured in pixels below and was highlighted by the albums centerpiece, and rarely played live, "When It's Over". This song is a direction I would love to see further explored in future recordings. It's got the cascading guitar of the more Gothic aspects of early Cure and is really a beautiful sonic artistic statement. Do yourself a favor and catch The Soft Moon, a sure bet to play Coachella next year and larger venues from here on out.

Luis Vasquez lost in space...photo by RLC

The Soft Moon bassist Justin Anastasi bringing the thunder...photo by RLC

Season 3 "Make It Or Break It" Recap: The Stuff That Dreams Are Made Of...Or, Sasha Belov, A Good And Honorable Pugilist?

'Make It or Break It" is back with new challenges, new villains, and a new hunk who can see the light.

Welcome, Rockers - let's get ready to Tummmmbbllllle! The new season of MIOBI has finally started, and we here at “What Duvet Said…” plan on following it closely from start to finish each and every week both here and on the podcast. So let's get started with episode 2011, shall we?

The “New Normal” in Boulder seems a lot like the Old Normal as we find the Rock Girls - dedicated Payson, slippery Lauren, underdog Emily, and princess Kaylie - walking in four abreast to the Rocky Mountain Gymnastics Center for another demanding practice. Barely fifteen seconds into the show and Kaylie is already crossing her arms, pointing out the sacrifices these elite gymnasts need to make to get Olympic gold. But not all is as it seems this dark night, as suddenly the boys reveal themselves to be vampires, taking Payson down first and then taking a bite out of Lauren. Kaylie makes a dash for it, only to be blocked by her towering object of affection, Tucker Carlson - who also turns out to be a vampire, with an equally fanged Emily by his side. Fortunately, Sasha comes screaming up in one of those shiny expensive cars everyone on this show gets to drive, and they're off to be safe; that is, until Kaylie reveals herself to be a red eyed vampire herself!

Fortunately, it's all a dream (And it was all seen on the MIOBI YouTube Channel this past week). Unfortunately, it's not the dream that Kaylie has been living her whole life to fulfill. What makes a dream and what makes reality is the theme that runs through this first episode, as each of the girls have to grapple with their fantasy, idealized lives that seem so out of reach. Kaylie is not back at The Rock at all; she is sequestered away in the Willow Glen Eating Disorder Rehab (the charming stone announcing the locale is featured prominently enough in this episode to lead me to believe we'll be seeing much more of this establishing shot in episodes to come). And she is actually getting good help - if she'd only listen. The leader of her group therapy - rightfully so - points out that in dreams, every other person in the dream is really just an aspect of self. This line of analysis is quickly - and incorrectly - interrupted by Kaylie's new bunkmate, who asks about Kaylie's dream attack on Sasha as if he were a real person. I'm thinking that this girl isn't really paying attention and may not be the best pal for Kaylie.

Drama? What drama?

But we are off to the dream that is Boulder, Colorado, and each aspect of the Team Self that is the individuals, getting out of their respective cars in the exact same way, reminding us of where we left them off last season: Emily, free from her jail stint, now has to report to a probation officer (played by veteran voiceover artist and friend of the “What Duvet Said…” Podcast Marsha Clark); Payson is pouting about her loss of Sasha, as her mother Kim soothes with the soothingest voice on television; and Lauren, who can't forgive her father for letting her mother die, has been living with Summer, where we can only guess she's not knocking boots with Carter. All gaze longingly at the amazingly poor upkeep the grounds crew at the Rock seem to do, as they are quick to raise signs when gymnasts arrive, but can't be bothered to take down reserved parking signs when someone leaves. "Tell you what, boys, let's just lay down some green plastic across the parking spaces and hope no one notices." "Good plan; I've got to get to the Pizza Shack, after all."

There's a new face to the National Gymastics Organization, a sort of caffeine free Don Draper wannabe who wants to keep a sharp eye on Emily to make sure she's - well, I'm not entirely sure; to pass judgement on Mrs. Kmetko, apparently, by showing up at 9pm at the Kmetko residence to shame Chloe for going to work at 9pm. Hey, pot - meet kettle! He may be on to something, though, as part of Emily's probation requires her to wear an ankle monitoring bracelet if she leaves Boulder. I may not be a fashion expert, but in my day, we called those anklets. I'm just saying. Don Draper Lite has got his finger on the pulse of the Kmetkos, since Emily blames her mother for the whole arrest thing anyway. I expect more from a girl who keeps stuffed animals on her bed right there in the living room where anyone can see them. And wouldn't you know it, there's a big exhibition going on in Denver, so Emily is shackled, in full view of the whole gym.

Fresh meat...meet Max.

So off to Denver we go, where Hunky is what's for dinner. We immediately meet the new “Hot Boy In Town” - since I guess Nick has been unceremoniously thrown out with the trash. This new boy is Max, and is he ever. He's an aspiring shutterbug with just the sexiest amount of Peeping Tom Stalker going on with him. We also see the return of Kelly Parker, who is so much more appealing when she doesn't have her hair up in her devil horn pigtails. Turns out Carter, Kaylie's ex and Lauren's former “meditation roommate”, has left The Rock entirely and is now swinging on Kelly Parker's rings. Guess the girls of the Denver Elite didn't get Summer's abstinence speech.

It's all a ploy, though, as Carter still has the hots for Lauren and she for him, which they express demonstratively by dirty dancing with Kelly and Max, respectively. Turns out Max is a gymnast, too, and he's trying to decide whether to go train in Denver or train in Boulder at The Rock. Anyone taking a look at his digital camera would get a pretty good idea of where his beam is balanced.

At the very least he should stick with his separated-at-birth friend Tucker, who is the wisest Sage in all gymnasticdom. First he rightfully gives Emily perspective on her panicky pill-stealing crime, shifting the blame on Emily's shoulders instead of her externalizing it to her mother, which she quickly dismisses and storms off; then, when he finally goes to visit Kaylie in her rehab, he sticks to Recovery 101 by saying they cannot have a relationship until she's on the mend. Where did this guy get all his smarts, anyway? I sure hope he and Kaylie get together; he's a good egg. Even better, let Emily drop the Damon fantasy and get her with Tucker, he's way into her. Come on, ABC Family website, where's my poll for that!

Kelly Parker must have spent a good three minutes forgetting she was supposed to be screwing with The Rock Girls' heads so she needles Payson just enough to spill out the information that Sasha is in Denver. Payson instantly runs to get him, though she is soothed by those soothing smooth sounds of mom again. Just in time, too, as Max can find her and start taking even more pictures of her, since obviously the internet video he has instantly available on his cell phone isn't enough for him. By the way, who DID post that video on the internet? Could it be...

Sasha before the bruising...

...Rocky Belov?! There's our boy Sasha, taking his lumps in a boxing ring, supposedly just waiting out his time until his visa comes through. His dreams are shattered, too, like so many Romanian Bella Swans; he didn't expect his girls to end up in an ambulance and in jail. And this is where we leave him - reflected, reversed in a mirror as he says his goodbye to Payson's mother. The dream is over, just like Payson's dream as she walked away without him, just like Emily's dream as she wears the anklet, just like Kaylie's dream is being thwarted locked away in sunny rehab. Lauren, uhhh...she seems to sleep just fine, actually, although she dreams up ways to shift the blame of the leaked Sasha / Payson kiss video.

Finally, though, we arrive to what we always love on MIOBI - a big gymnastics challenge, pitting the scandalous, distracted, emotionally flawed Rock Girls against the overly confident, sparkly shiny Denver Elite, led by the evil Kelly Parker and her horny head, in a sunny Denver courtyard where they're so keen on courting the 2018 Olympics back to America that they've moved Century City all the way to Colorado. Wise Old Tucker has come up with a satisfying plan to conceal Emily's anklet - leg warmers - for all! Which is just the perfect idea until it turns out, oh, leg warmers only work right side up. Emily does a handstand and, caught by the camera eye of Max (who I guess was trying to shoot Payson through Emily's leg), her monitoring device is revealed for all to see. Cut the music!

Cue the music! It's time for Max to drop his camera, his shirt, and his wishy-washiness about where he's going to train, because look at him go! He's out there flipping and jumping and showing the crowd just what a great gym the Rock is, even without a lime green leo. It's enough to get applause, but it's not enough for Emily, who, ever the heroine, and boy do we love our Emily, she takes the mic right out of the emcee's hand mid sentence to declare to the crowd she stole, but she is more of a Jean Valjean kind-of -thief than a James Caan kind-of-Thief. And yeah, she loves her mother. So much so that Lauren thinks she should love her only parent, too.

Something wicked this way comes to Boulder.

A floating camera song montage gives us closure to last season's cliffhangers - Emily, out of jail but not out of the woods, gets her own room now; Lauren moves back in with her father, who has taken over at The Rock and has flip-flopped once again in his weaselly Steve way to be Mr. Sasha Belov supporter; Payson tucks Sasha's medal away in a drawer as she is ready to move on to Maximum Hunkydrive; and Kaylie, beautiful, underfed, misguided Kaylie is ready to get out of rehab and get back to her dreams. Looks like her doe eyed roommate is just the snake to get her out of there. That dastardly runway model has tricked her way out of three rehab facilities already!

Is Kaylie falling further down the rabbit hole? Will she get the help she needs? Doesn't she watch Josie Loren's public service announcements? Is anyone other than Damon going to find out about Emily's mother's cleavage-baring night job? Will Steve hire a new coach? Why not Sasha's father, anyway? Who will get Sasha's old parking space? How long is Emily's probation and will the NGO dismiss her because she doesn't have a big fancy house? Will Lauren get outed as the perpetrator of getting out the Sasha video, and if so, will her dad throw her out of The Rock as threatened? Why is Emily's hair black this season and not that golden brown it was last season? Will Payson finally start paying attention to boys - this one boy, in particular? Will these dreams go on when I close my eyes? What do YOU think? Hit us up, let us know, and tune in next week to find out more! Also listen to our crack analysis on this week's “The Tank” podcast. Rock on, Duvetians!