Tribute-band Halloween at High Noon Saloon, The Acorn and Shaky Hands at Café Montmartre, and Wilco at Wisconsin Union Theater
Caylan Larson
The High Noon's Halloween party incites some rare Madison-concert crowd movement.
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Tribute bands at High Noon Saloon
A sea of costumed charlatans jammed their way into the High Noon on Friday for local blog Dane101’s third annual Halloween party. Despite the irksome parade of Jokers, Sarah Palins, and slutty devils, the party proved to be a riotous mix-up of local tribute bands, booze, fist-pumping and oafish dancing.
Local cover band The Low Czars opened up with an impressive homage to The Kinks. Decked out in matching ascots, suits, and fake brit-hair, the Czars ripped through a set of tonally accurate rockers from classic Kinks albums like Kinks-Size and The Kinks Are The Village Green Preservation Society while choice scenes from Teen Wolf flickered on a screen behind them. They closed their tight tribute with an immaculate rendition of “All Day and All Of The Night.”
A sea of costumed charlatans jammed their way into the High Noon on Friday for local blog Dane101’s third annual Halloween party. Despite the irksome parade of Jokers, Sarah Palins, and slutty devils, the party proved to be a riotous mix-up of local tribute bands, booze, fist-pumping and oafish dancing.
Local cover band The Low Czars opened up with an impressive homage to The Kinks. Decked out in matching ascots, suits, and fake brit-hair, the Czars ripped through a set of tonally accurate rockers from classic Kinks albums like Kinks-Size and The Kinks Are The Village Green Preservation Society while choice scenes from Teen Wolf flickered on a screen behind them. They closed their tight tribute with an immaculate rendition of “All Day and All Of The Night.”
Between bands, Decider chatted with two women wearing matching fleece sweatsuits, fannypacks, and ornamental tourist hats. The duo called themselves “Florida Grandmas,” and proceeded to each yank a miniature photo album loaded with actual baby pictures from their gold handbags.
Next, The Buddy Hollies, a sweater-clad “supergroup” featuring members of local power-pop bands The Shabelles, The Kites, and The Runners-Up, paid tribute to Weezer. The set largely drew from the W’s first two pop-rock monuments, the self-titled "blue" album and Pinkerton, plus a few hits from the "green" album and b-side “Suzanne.” The audience quickly turned into a friendly geek squad, belting out sing-along pop classics like “Say It Ain’t So,” “In The Garage,” and “Pink Triangle” in unison.
As if that wasn't enough teenage nostalgia, Minneapolis emo-lites Apparently Nothing took the stage as Nirvana. Unfortunately, singer Aaron Shakey succeeded more in evoking the sugary whine of Soul Asylum’s Dave Pirner than the bleak screech of Kurt Cobain. Musically, Apparently Nothing nailed it. Drummer Layne Knutson hit every fill with energetic precision. However, the combination of Shakey's shrill vocals and egotistical stage banter became taxing as they worked their way through Nevermind and closed with a sloppy, half-assed rendition of "Something In The Way."
Up next, Tangy arrived under the moniker Manchester United, which had originally been advertised as a tribute to various Manchester bands. Tangy instead opted to split their set into a disappointing pairing of Stone Roses songs and the Beatles-lite ego-schlock of Oasis. Clad in soccer jerseys and carpenter jeans, Tangy managed to tarnish Stone Roses classics like “Fool's Gold” and “I Am the Resurrection” by adding gratuitous amounts of masturbatory guitar work. This same problem plagued the Oasis half of the set too, sucking all of the pop charm out songs like “Rock ‘N Roll Star” and “Supersonic” and replacing it with innocuous wanking. They closed their set with a lengthy, sterile rendition of “Champagne Supernova.”
At 1:30 a.m., The Gomers breathed life into a wiped-out audience with an epic homage to Spinal Tap. Mischievous, zany, and poly-talented as ever, the group blasted the night to a close with wigs, cheetah-print loungewear, dead drummers, an 18-inch “replica” of Stonehenge, and all of the classic one-liners from the movie.
Next, The Buddy Hollies, a sweater-clad “supergroup” featuring members of local power-pop bands The Shabelles, The Kites, and The Runners-Up, paid tribute to Weezer. The set largely drew from the W’s first two pop-rock monuments, the self-titled "blue" album and Pinkerton, plus a few hits from the "green" album and b-side “Suzanne.” The audience quickly turned into a friendly geek squad, belting out sing-along pop classics like “Say It Ain’t So,” “In The Garage,” and “Pink Triangle” in unison.
As if that wasn't enough teenage nostalgia, Minneapolis emo-lites Apparently Nothing took the stage as Nirvana. Unfortunately, singer Aaron Shakey succeeded more in evoking the sugary whine of Soul Asylum’s Dave Pirner than the bleak screech of Kurt Cobain. Musically, Apparently Nothing nailed it. Drummer Layne Knutson hit every fill with energetic precision. However, the combination of Shakey's shrill vocals and egotistical stage banter became taxing as they worked their way through Nevermind and closed with a sloppy, half-assed rendition of "Something In The Way."
Up next, Tangy arrived under the moniker Manchester United, which had originally been advertised as a tribute to various Manchester bands. Tangy instead opted to split their set into a disappointing pairing of Stone Roses songs and the Beatles-lite ego-schlock of Oasis. Clad in soccer jerseys and carpenter jeans, Tangy managed to tarnish Stone Roses classics like “Fool's Gold” and “I Am the Resurrection” by adding gratuitous amounts of masturbatory guitar work. This same problem plagued the Oasis half of the set too, sucking all of the pop charm out songs like “Rock ‘N Roll Star” and “Supersonic” and replacing it with innocuous wanking. They closed their set with a lengthy, sterile rendition of “Champagne Supernova.”
At 1:30 a.m., The Gomers breathed life into a wiped-out audience with an epic homage to Spinal Tap. Mischievous, zany, and poly-talented as ever, the group blasted the night to a close with wigs, cheetah-print loungewear, dead drummers, an 18-inch “replica” of Stonehenge, and all of the classic one-liners from the movie.
The Acorn and Shaky Hands at Café Montmatre
As full as it is of rhythm and wonder, The Acorn's music is a delicate thing. The Ottawa band's last Madison show, back in April at Café Montmartre, patiently conjured the cozy-yet-epic feel of the 2007 album Glory Hope Mountain. Sure, that was just a quiet Sunday-night show, but frontman Rolf Klausener and band (especially the two drummer-percussionists) brought out a surprisingly full, focused take on the album's blend of primal Latin rhythm and meandering folk melodies. When they returned to the Montmartre's stage Friday, a few members ranged from agreeably buzzed to "DUDE, it's fuckin' Halloween in Madison!" drunk, which might explain why they weren't half as good this time around.
As full as it is of rhythm and wonder, The Acorn's music is a delicate thing. The Ottawa band's last Madison show, back in April at Café Montmartre, patiently conjured the cozy-yet-epic feel of the 2007 album Glory Hope Mountain. Sure, that was just a quiet Sunday-night show, but frontman Rolf Klausener and band (especially the two drummer-percussionists) brought out a surprisingly full, focused take on the album's blend of primal Latin rhythm and meandering folk melodies. When they returned to the Montmartre's stage Friday, a few members ranged from agreeably buzzed to "DUDE, it's fuckin' Halloween in Madison!" drunk, which might explain why they weren't half as good this time around.
Sure, just about anyone in the middle of a wearying road trip would've welcomed the night's festive air, and the set wasn't a total bust. Except that just about every song got a bit too noisy and sloppy for its own good, and guitarist Howie Tsui once ended up on his back in front of the stage, and not in that fun way. He had to be helped up, and spent most of the rest of the set sitting on his amp, getting through the songs but looking half-conscious. Some bands sound excellent when they're loosey-boozy, and some don't. Special thanks to whoever kept feeding the band beers and shots.
While Portland-based openers The Shaky Hands aren't quite so great on record, their set actually did leader Nicholas Delffs' songs a favor. The band's frazzled hyperness translated into tightness and punch on tunes like "Loosen Up" and "A New Parade," both from the recent Lunglight. Between Delffs' one-piece red long-johns and bassist Mayhaw Hoons' Batman getup, the costumes had plenty in common with the music: Not the most imaginative out there, but pretty damn fun in person.
Wilco at Wisconsin Union Theater
It's strange to think of a Wilco show as merely incidental to something else, especially here in little old Madison. Before Saturday's Obama rally-slash-mini Wilco set began Saturday, the Union Theater's screen became a veritable Barack Channel. Decider walked in at 11:45 a.m., just in time to catch 15 minutes of slickly edited Obama speeches, press quotes, footage of volunteers at work, and a hysterically pandering segment in which a group of kids bounce around Madison, receiving text messages urging them to vote early. (In the end, they do, and then they look insanely fucking happy about it.) The montage even included shots of Wilco playing at another Obama rally and speaking Obama's praises in their dressing room. The message was basically, "Hey all you folks who are definitely voting for Obama already, this thing ain't in the bag yet." (Yes, indeed, OK, mercy, please bring on the band.)
It's strange to think of a Wilco show as merely incidental to something else, especially here in little old Madison. Before Saturday's Obama rally-slash-mini Wilco set began Saturday, the Union Theater's screen became a veritable Barack Channel. Decider walked in at 11:45 a.m., just in time to catch 15 minutes of slickly edited Obama speeches, press quotes, footage of volunteers at work, and a hysterically pandering segment in which a group of kids bounce around Madison, receiving text messages urging them to vote early. (In the end, they do, and then they look insanely fucking happy about it.) The montage even included shots of Wilco playing at another Obama rally and speaking Obama's praises in their dressing room. The message was basically, "Hey all you folks who are definitely voting for Obama already, this thing ain't in the bag yet." (Yes, indeed, OK, mercy, please bring on the band.)
Senator Russ Feingold only reinforced the "don't celebrate too soon" message when he came out to rile up the crowd and introduce a trio version of Wilco: leader Jeff Tweedy, bassist John Stirratt, and multi-instrumentalist Pat Sansone. The set began with "What Light" (from last year's Sky Blue Sky), stuck mostly to acoustic guitar, bass, and Sansone's understated keyboard, and clocked in at just under 40 minutes.
"We don't have many songs that are appropriate for a hope-filled auditorium," Tweedy said before playing "California Stars" from 1998's Mermaid Avenue, in which Wilco and Billy Bragg wrote music for a set of unused Woody Guthrie lyrics. Just when you're about to accuse the Obama campaign of overdoing the whole optimism thing, it treats you to some of the finest sad-bastard comfort in pop music. (And just imagine how excruciating it'd be to pair Obama's benevolent cult of personality with overly happy, "inspirational" music. Forget it!) In short, it was very easy to feel cynical during the pre-show propaganda montage, but much less so during Wilco's spare version of "Jesus, Etc."
