University of San Diego Radio

Jack Johnson, duh

Sometimes it’s nice to get exactly what you expected.

That is exactly how I felt after seeing Jack Johnson play at Cricket Wireless Amphitheatre in Chula Vista on October 9. Jack delivered just what I had gone to see- album-precise versions of his hit songs, a few special guests, and a good time.

Let’s face it: Jack Johnson is not the world’s most innovative musician, but that isn’t a bad thing. His simple, sunny melodies (enhanced at the show by a full, very talented band) and very personal lyrics are poignant in their own way. This came across in an especially strong way live. He explained the meaning behind a few of his songs, including one of my favorites, “Do You Remember?” (as I predicted, it was about his wife). Jack, as you can imagine, is incredibly personable (and handsome) live, making for a good vibe among the audience.

I can’t say much more about Jack’s musical style other than its preciseness to the album versions of the songs. I felt like I was listening to one of his albums. I would have appreciated some improvisation (of course I would- my favorite bands are Phish and Dave Matthews Band, the masters of jamming), but at least the live version didn’t fall short of the performance on his albums.

I appreciated the variety of his set list, and I got to hear every song I went to hear. From his early classic, “Bubble Toes,” to the opening song, the single from his new album “You and Your Heart,” I was very pleased with the songs he chose to play. Other personal favorites included his classic song “Inaudible Melodies,” the way-too-catchy title track of his new album “To the Sea,” a stunning version of “Country Road” featuring Hawaiian singer Paula Fuga (this song alone was worth the price of admission), and the exuberant finale of “Better Together” featuring Paula Fuga and the opening act G.Love & Special Sauce.

I would recommend Jack Johnson for anyone who is going to a concert to have fun- not to have a life-changing musical experience. It was worth it for me to see an artist I have been listening to since I was 13 play all my favorites. I got just what I wanted.

Courtesy March Fourth Marching Band

The sun has taken a sabbatical from ‘sunny’ San Diego for what feels like weeks, but there is one event that never fails to brighten my day: The spectacle that is a command, a date, and a band all wrapped into one eccentric, sequined, hodgepodge, pirate-skank package that is March Fourth Marching Band.

The ruckus raised by this (at times) 32-person on-stage marching band is crazy contagious. Almost completely void of lyrics, the songs are laden with horns, sax, and, of course, drums, and make for feet-stomping beats that force your gams to jam. They sound like the Big Bands of the 1940’s mixed with folksy jig music, ska, and, in the case of some songs, pink-panther-esque / spy v spy theme jingles.

I know, right?

The vibe is up beat and energized; the audience converges into one massive dance party, egged on by dancing girls covered in sequins who mix into the crowd and lanky costumed guys on stilts playing massive (cardboard) guitars and an (actual) over-sized cow-bell. For outdoor shows, the stilt walkers tend to double as flamethrowers and the dancing girls as hula-hoopers.

The theatrics are impressive. The entire band is dressed in pseudo-pirate and exaggerated marching-band type attire, but all done in a very extravagant DIY fashion. Funky hats and impressive showings of facial hair ingenuity are prerequisites. It also seems as though each member has some sort of distinguishing feature, be it attire, hair (in passé places for some female members), make-up (eyelashes for days) or loud personality, all of which speak to nearly every band member.

Courtesy of March Fourth

Hailing from Portland, Oregon, March Fourth assembled for a one-day Mardi Gras show 7 years ago and haven’t stopped since. Many of the original members have retired in light of ‘real-world’ obligations, but new members who can afford to live part time in the fantasical world of M4 have since joined the ranks. Bandleader John Averill asserts that while each member is paid a wage, it is modest and would support only the thriftiest of vagabond’s full time.

They travel around in a converted tour-bus and are a staple performance at the New Belgium Brewery Tour de Fat events in major cities across the U.S.

They camp under the stars in most cities (weather permitting) and seem to really like each other.

While they may be ex-band geeks, they’ve earned the right to be as openly freaky as can be. That is, of course, until they go home to their day jobs.

Courtesy West Beach Music Festival

Loads of sunshine and an awesome line-up made West Beach this past weekend an undeniably festive affair.  Coming off some serious city-council related drama from last years West Beach Music Festival, Friday started off slow but picked up momentum as the sun set over the palms in Santa Barbara.

With catchy melodies and a dance-worthy tempo, Through the Roots played an awesome reggae-rock set in the late afternoon to a small but enthusiastic audience.  On the smaller stage, hip hop crew Zion I came out strong but lost momentum quickly as a slew of guest appearances, brand-new material, and a lack of decibels rendered them less entertainment and more background noise.

The highlight of Friday’s lineup was Betatraxx, a Los Angeles DJ/drummer duo.  While they drew only a couple dozen fans, they threw down funky beats and had their small following dancing hard from the get go.  These guys killed it.  They describe their music as “electro/grunge/sleeze/house/disco” which is a great summation of their sound.  Think more rock than GirlTalk, more flow than Milkman, and more talent than Pretty Lights.

Other noteworthy performances of opening night were Rebelution, who never fail lay down a great show, and Katchafire, who have successfully worked their way onto my go-to playlist of fun, feel-able grooves.

Saturday dawned sunny and beautiful, but the “no in and out” policy deterred me from arriving closer to the noon start time.  Armed with my reusable West Beach water bottle (they won the Greener Festival Award last year) cash (they failed to put money in the ATM’s), and my shades secured with a croaky (music = dancing = lost sunglasses), I was ready libations and good vibrations.

After a couple $7 8-oz beers (ouch) I braved the already dense crowds in search of the sex appeal that is Australian singer-song writer Mat McHugh of The Beautiful Girls.  These guys are reminiscent of a Josh Ritter meets Police meets Donovan Frankenreiter medley of rock, pop, and reggae with a tinge of blues and lots of delicious acoustic guitar.

Old-timers UB-40 put on a great show, but with well over a century of combined musical experience, I expected nothing less.  The Pretty Lights set was a frenzied dance party, but I was disappointed to realize how much of DJ Derek Smith’s spins were pre-fabricated and his musical elements pre-mixed.  The night wrapped up with the Easy Star All-Stars who performed Dub Side of the Moon, their reggae cover of Pink Floyds classic of a similar name.

The event wrapped up around ten and a cool ocean breeze chilled the sweaty, dancing masses.  Thankfully, after-parties and DJ sets at several local watering holes promised to warm bodies and carry the good vibes into the wee hours of what was a beautiful Santa Barbra Sunday sunrise.  Overall, this festival has found a home in the California festival circuit and rightly stands as a must attend event for the month of September. I’ll look forward to it every year and you should too.

On September 21st, I got out of class and hopped in the car to go to Phoenix. Driving from campus, I made pretty good time and got there in about twenty minutes. All the girls I talked to before my trip said Phoenix was extremely hot. I’m not sure if I agree, but then again, you’re asking the wrong guy. Phoenix is bigger than I expected too. There were people everywhere and most of them seemed to be having trouble walking in a straight line, which was strange. After a while, Phoenix began to grow on me. Maybe I’ll become a fan on Facebook.

Now for the M. Night Shyamalan mind-twist: I’ve never been to Arizona.

If you’re confused, let me enlighten you. Phoenix is an alt-rock group responsible for hits such as “1901” and “Everything is Everything”. Hailing from Paris, France, the group has been kicking ass and taking names since their formation in 1999. If you’re like me and are just getting onboard with their sound, well, you missed a pretty good concert.

Finishing up the US leg of their most recent tour, Phoenix appeared at San Diego State University’s Open-Air Theatre on September 21st. A full house waited patiently for the French rockers to take the stage and their patience was rewarded from the moment Phoenix took the stage. As previously stated, I am no authority on Phoenix. If you, dear reader, are a die-hard fan of the group and have been for the past 11 years, I offer my apologies. I assure you, I am as scandalized as you are that I have not been listening to Phoenix before now.

Their distinct sound comes from a combination of catchy melodies, creative rhythms and funky bass-tracks. A quick listen to some of their tracks reveals a versatility not found in many groups. Their alternative sound holds strong throughout but at any time, a hip 80’s groove may peek its head out for a few bars before retreating back into the shadows. Phoenix manages to work in an unmistakable synth sound without sounding corny, a feat not easily achieved.

Phoenix’s live performance features all sorts of production. In dramatic fashion, a huge white curtain falls across the entire stage, obscuring the band until rear-lighting comes on to project larger-than-life silhouettes of the members doing their thing behind the sheet. At another point in the show, a strobe and fog machine combo transform the stage into a temporary discotheque. Throughout the concert, lights flash, cycle, scroll and scan but for all the invention, Phoenix’s clever sound remains the show’s focus. Testament to this came when the band disappeared completely from the stage, popping up moments later in the middle of the cheap-seats. There, they executed a quick acoustic set that had fans scrambling to get closer and in that moment, Phoenix’s allure was made clear: European alt-rock, by the people, for the people, amongst the people.

- Tom “Wonderboy” Roth

I saw Robert Randolph and the Family Band open up for the Dave Matthews Band in 2007 in a large amphitheater, where the energy and skill of Robert Randolph was prevalant. As with many acts, he is much better in a smaller setting, like the Belly  Up, which he played on June 10th. The night turned into an old classic rock soulful dance party ignited by Randolph’s unique pedal steel guitar.

Randolph is considered one of the best pedal steel guitarists in the world, and he definitely did not disappoint at his San Diego show. His skill on this unique instrument was the catalyst for the band and for the dancing that ensues once the band begins playing. Although Randolph is the main focus of the group, he has an excellent backup band. His sister sings backup vocals and often takes the lead with a powerful, soulful voice reminiscent of classic funk singers of yesteryear. The drummer, Marcus Randolph, was more than able to match Robert Randolph’s ability on the pedal steel guitar with excellent rhythms and a few solos of his own.

The band paid tribute to their influences and today’s current hits by doing a version of the classic “Papa Was a Rolling Stone” mixed with Lady Gaga’s “Poker Face.” This song was reflective of a band who plays predominantly old school music in a society where pop songs are most prevalent. The creative dedication to a sound that is not normally heard anymore in 2010 is something to be respected. Randolph manages to bring a fresh take on the classic sounds of Stevie Ray Vaughn, Sly & the Family Stone and the Allman Brothers. Robert Randolph and the Family Band are one of the best and only links to the classic sounds of the ’70s. If you ever have a chance to see Robert Randolph, go for the history lesson or just for the great show.

Robert Randolph and the Family Band’s album, We Walk This Road, was released today on Warner Bros. Records. Check it out on iTunes.

Courtesy A.V. Club.

There’s something hauntingly beautiful about Gregory Alan Isakov and the music he creates. While quickly labeled as a singer/songwriter, Isakov really goes beyond that one grouping to add more of a raw folk or indie sound. In many ways, his music will be taking the elite spot of filling the void left while Bon Iver is on hiatus. The two artists run a similar parallel with their mix of reverberated guitars and seemingly lazy vocals.

In a live setting, Isakov brings intimacy and dedication to the stage. At a recent set at the Hotel Café in Hollywood, fans flocked to see one of the main rising stars on the scene. Mintues before showtime, with the place packed, Isakov slowly walked through the crowd with many oblivious to his presence. He worked his way forward, making to the stage where he sat on a stool, facing the crowd, armed with his guitar. The following 45 minutes soon became a lost blur of music. Song after song, Isakov only stopped once or twice to speak to the crowd, often joking about how he hates to talk between songs. Anytime a song would end, fans would yell out requests, breaking the aural harmony created by Isakov.

Isakov’s most recent release, This Empty Northern Hemisphere, has shown a considerable amount of growth for the artist. His music has developed and received praise from key music outlets such as Paste Magazine and A.V. Club. In my mind, This Empty Northern Hemisphere has found the perfect balance of simplistic moments and soul drenched vocal presence. Isakov’s album deserves the praise it has received and raises the bar for his next release. Between that time and now, I’ll fill my car rides with Isakov’s music and standout singles such as “Big Black Car.”

Big Black Car

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It must be a tough gig opening up for Cage the Elephant at House of Blues in San Diego. All of the anxious future mosh pitters judging your level of hardcore, while waiting for the headliner’s lead singer to begin screaming into a microphone whilst sweatily thrashing about the stage. For a four-piece band from the United Kingdom, however, it apparently wasn’t a tough gig at all.

The 22-20s, made up of Martin Trimble on guitar and vocals, Glen Bartup on bass, Dan Hare, the newest member, on guitar and backing vocals, and James Irving on drums, put on an entertaining, badass performance last night, successfully warming up the HOB crowd and preparing them for the craziness to ensue further along the hour.             The band, which broke up in 2006, reconstituted themselves in 2008, adding guitarist Dan Hare, and toured secretly in the UK under the alias Bitter Pills, the title of the second track on their new album Shake/Shiver/Moan, to be released June 22nd via tbd records. Since the secret tour and subsequent release of live EP The Latest Heartbreak, 22-20s have been hitting America hard, first touring with Band of Skulls and The Whigs, then with Cage the Elephant. After experiencing a 22-20s show firsthand last night, I must say that I see big things for them in their American future.

What was most evident during the set was how well the band members communicate with each other. Simple glances between members can indicate many things as far as the playing of instruments goes, and in my highly uneducated opinion regarding how an instrument should be played, those glances indicated the right things. Trimble’s vocals paired with those of Hare’s were flawless, albeit a tad too perfect for my expectations of a rock show, and greatly hinted toward his UK roots. Songs like the title track of the new album, as well as “Latest Heartbreak” and “Heart On A String,” were a great testament to the talent of the band members and their dedication to creating well thought out and whole-heartedly played music. The set was so loud that it sounded a bit muted, and, trust me, that’s a very good thing. Very rarely do I find myself tapping my foot to the opening band, but last night I did just that.

You can catch 22-20s in Los Angeles at Spaceland on June 11th. As far as Cage the Elephant goes, please explain to me the rationale behind mosh pits.

Photo Courtesy Johan Stolpe

With sounds varying greatly from that of the horns and violins of a mariachi band, what better way to spend a Cinco de Mayo in San Diego than at UCSD’s The Loft with the Tallest Man on Earth. A native of the North Pole, Kristian Matsson delivered a thrilling yet mellow show on May 5th, debuting his new Album The Wild Hunt. This album, which was long expected, contains soothing yet powerful songs such as “Burden of Tomorrow,” “The Drying of the Lawns” and “The King of Spain.”

This wasn’t my first time seeing Matsson, as I had the pleasure of watching him perform at the Troubador in Los Angeles last July, and, just as I expected, his passion and serenity that comes out as he plays was still present. He began the show with The Wild Hunt, setting the mood for the night to come.  His Bob Dylan-like, amplified voice separates him from the rest of the folk world and, undoubtedly made his performance as outstanding as it was.

As the show went on, I noticed something peculiar about Matsson that I recognized during his show in Los Angeles. As most performers feed off of the vibe of the crowd and their response to their music, Matsson feeds off of his own passion and personal work. While playing his set, any little noise or distraction sets him off, and everyone could see it in his facial expressions. Matsson wants to hear his music and play it to perfection, and wants everyone listening to hear his unique sound and metaphorical lyrics. The fluid rhythm of his guitar sends you into a trance, as his overpowering voice keeps you locked in from song to song.

The night ended with what I believe to be, his most promising song, “The King of Spain.”  This was a perfect song to end the night, sending the crowd on their respected ways to finish the holiday celebrations. I know that seeing the Tallest Man on Earth will never get old, and I highly recommend everyone to take time off from their busy schedules to relax and unwind to the sounds of this amazingly unique artist.

Broken Bells consists of James Mercer and Brian Burton (Danger Mouse).

If you haven’t heard of Broken Bells, chances are you’ve already heard their music. The musical duo consists of Shins’ front man James Mercer and artist/producer Brian Burton, better known as Danger Mouse. While Mercers’ acoustic folk and Burton’s predominantly hip-hop based work may seem unlikely ingredients of a succesful musical recipe, several years of collaborative effort between the two delivered a gem in the form of their self-titled LP released earlier this March.

Even better, the Berkeley-based west coasters The Morning Benders were opening. I’ve had the chance to see these guys several times in Diego over the past few semesters and have yakked with them on several occasions as well. They were excellent guys, but an even better band. Their Big Echo, released earlier this year, has been playing in our living room for several months now.

The Bells took the stage to a fully attended crowd. Though that crowd was sitting on a tiki-torch lit lawn outside Humphrey’s resort, which made my friend liken the atmosphere to his grandmother’s 60th wedding anniversary, the fans eagerly greeted the Bells and fueled them through the show. As for the gang on the stage, it was a definite showing of masterful musicianship.

Both Mercer and Burton showed creative bouts in genres previously untouched in their careers. Looking back on what they’ve both done independently, it shouldn’t have been a shocker, but I kept thinking about how incredibly talented musicians were at work. It warranted the classic “they make it look so easy” line. Overall, it was a night of excellent music both new and familiar, albeit the strange setting. I highly recommend seeing either the Bells or the Benders next time they roll your way.

“Excuses” |Morning Benders

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“The High Road” | Broken Bells

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Buy the Benders Big Echo

Buy the Bells’ LP