This is my first piece with the tag "NSFW." Future employers, is that OK? Because I think it's kinda awesome.

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SCENE AND HEARD

LovEvolution in San Francisco (NSFW)

Stay gold

PHOTOS BY JENZ » It’s true that San Franciscans will never pass up the opportunity to don a costume. Halloween, Bay To Breakers, Critical Mass, SantaCon. If there's a hint of holiday, you can count on someone to go topless or outfit themselves in a Gumby costume... [more]

I think this is one of the funnier interviews I've done:

JL: We all work on it together, put together over time, and see if it works. It’s a collaborative effort.

TM: Actually, we just keep doing it like the Greeks. (lowers voice) And doing it. (lowers voice even lower) And doing it like the Greeks. (returning to normal decibel) Man that’s gonna sound so weird in print.

This is how all photoshoots end for them

Where he beats up a tabletop fan and we talk about my Swedish husband-in-same-almost-nearly name Jens Lekman...

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Interview - Jose Gonzalez

Jose Gonzalez is a very unassuming kind of guy off-stage. He lets me sit in the fancy cushy chair during our interview, and he smiles politely after every question he answers.

Performing, however, his quiet energy is heightened and transferred into his axe plucking. He sincerely looks like he's just on stage twiddling with his fingers, when in actuality, he's strumming along the strings of his guitar at such a speed of grace and precision it's hard not to gape. At his Yoshi's Tuesday night early show, he pops up on stage unannounced, picks up his main instrument, and starts playing – no introductions, no greetings. It's not rude so much as just apart of his methodology that is glossed with being reserved. Gonzalez's playing power is both quiet and steady, and based on the first show of a four gig run at the Oakland venue, I'd say his approach is successful. (more...)

I really shouldn't lament though; it's been a busy summer! What, with the stalking of Radiohead in three cities and rolling through multiple cannisters of film in the past few weeks, I only apologize that I have not been able to comment on why I fucking love Hall & Oates so much. Seriously? I just bought their Best Of and cannot pull myself away. Listen to "I Can't Go For That" as you brush your teeth while standing in your underwear in the morning, and you will understand. It's okay in arriving late to work because of this. It happens to the best of us.

I will take a moment tomorrow to gush about my esteemed lottery winnings in being able to photograph Radiohead at Outside Lands this summer; but for now, here are some pretty pictures from both OSL and the Treasure Island Music Festival, of which I spent about 26 hours with Morgan at and we did not kill each other. He did bodycheck me into a Walgreen's side wall though, so violence did creep up. Kristin, Vroo, Rosie, Danielle, and Miles all made my weekend too - I have the bestest friends.

Also, I was very lucky to have been published overseas/on the international interwebs over at NME.com last week. I used to read that site religiously every morning during my first year in college, and to start writing for them is a huge honor. The Pigeon Detectives were nice English blokes as well who talked a lot about 50 Cent and being a baller. Or something. We should have something live on the popscene website with them soon.

Lastly, my faux boyfriend Rickolas Reed is playing pop tomorrow night, and you can't even imagine how fucking stoked I am. Maybe? Maybe.

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Photos - Outside Lands Music & Arts Festival, Day 1 | SF

Day 1 – Pure carnage

Highlights: Tears running before the show even started, being corralled like fluffy sheep, and falling in love.

I wanted to love the first day of Outside Lands. I really did. Everyone who knows me is aware that I have an absolute adoration for my city of San Francisco, and I was so utterly proud to be in attendance for the inaugural year of a huge festival. And hi, duh – Radiohead. But if I'm sobbing twice in an hour before I even get into the show? Well, shit's not right… (more)

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Photos - Outside Lands Music & Arts Festival, Day 2 | SF

Day 2 – In limbo

Highlights: mentally playing "YYZ" on Guitar Hero in my head, dinner with Matt Nathanson, lots of geriatrics on stage during Tom Petty

How can you tell people to take public transportation when you can't increase service? That was still my gripe come Saturday, and though I was a rested Jenz ready to wait for my decked out train to come, it still took me over two hours again to get to where I needed to be. Maybe I'm just an angry little faux redhead, but man…missing seven bands as a result made me none-too-happy. (more)

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Photos - Outside Lands Music & Arts Festival, Day 3 | SF

Day 3 – Complete redemption

Highlights: gorgeous weather (for San Francisco), lots of romantic guitar, Broken Social Scene still having 1,029 people in their band, and Jeff Tweedy being adorable

Somehow the weather gods smiled upon our little festival in the park on the last day of Outside Lands, and I arrived to Golden Gate Park with sun shining on my fire engine red hair and in a good mood – only 40 minutes door to door to witness people from Canada? Awesome! (more)

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Photos - Treasure Island Music Festival Day 1 | SF

Words and photos by JENZ

Armed with a bottle of bubbles, my camera, and more snacks than a fourth grade field trip, my friends and I tumbled into the Treasure Island Music Festival early on day one to soak in the sight and sounds. But I had life-changing, brain-probing questions: would I see the creepy carrot again? Could I take excellent pictures in the photo pit while donning an eye patch? Was my butt showing in the dress I decided to wear? Questions abounded as we shuffled off our shuttle and through the festival gates. (more)

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Photos - Treasure Island Music Festival Day 2 | SF

Words and photos by JENZ

Day two of the Treasure Island Music Festival was filled with some stellar string arrangements, wandering around the fields like an orphan, and finding out my alien starfish boyfriend has a twin. Going big on the weekends was never as fun as this. (more)

I miss you too.

So I've been a crazy busy bee, but it's with good merit. I was hired to be the blog editor over at Mezzanine, a cool venue I've always had good and drunken and sometimes good drunken experiences at (everyone remembers this, right?).

I've been neglecting my own poor blog, so I am sorry that I've been a bad partner. I have much to say about Radiohead in the next few weeks, why I like that stupid Jesse McCartney song, and much more. I promise to show some more TLC.

Here's some Tripwire shenanigans since the last time we tango'ed; I seriously still love that Wallpaper picture...and in the mean time, I can be caught over at the wonderful Mezzanine blog talking about His Thickeness and other inane stuff. Yay!

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Interview - Trapped In The Van With Darker My Love

Words by JENZ

"There is an incredible amount of trust going on right now," I say as I am led into an unmarked white van by two strangers I've never met.

"Wait - are you gonna kill us or are we gonna kill you?" Tim Presley says with a glimmer of wicked in his eyes. Oh, boy...I'm having second thoughts about this interview...(more...)

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Live - The Faint @ The Fillmore | SF

Dear drunk sluts at this week's The Faint show at the Fillmore: really? When my friend Danielle tells you "Dude, you're so drunk you're embarrassing me," pack your shit up and go the fuck home. I'm trying to dance front-row, man...

I was not alone in sharing this sentiment. The Monday sold-out show was packed skinny-jeans-to-skinny-jeans, and I wasn't about to let some inebriated ho ruin the party by getting all up in my grill. (She then flailed around some more after Dee's comment, slammed herself into a banister I'm sure on accident, and wobbled away from our trio all the while flipping us off. Awesome.) (more...)
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Exclusive Download - You Say Party! We Say Die! "Moon (Wallpaper Remix)"

Last week we shared the news that You Say Party! We Say Die! is getting their remix on via Remik's Cube. The album comes out digitally on August 26, and features remix versions of the tracks originally found on their sophomore release, Lose All Time. One of the cuts, Wallpaper's version of "Moon," is now online and you can download it below exclusively from us.

This is the first time that the two artists have worked together, and Ricky Reed (Wallpaper) saw this tune as a gangsta rap throwback remix (think Ice Cube's "Today Was A Good Day"). (more...)
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Live - Conor Oberst @ Bottom Of The Hill | SF

I once was two people away from buying a ticket to see Bright Eyes, and when I approached the box office, the ticketperson informed me that I was oh-so-close, but no dice.

"You know what then? Fuck you," I thought in my head as I went to have a consolation ice cream across the street.

That was six years ago. And I never got to see Conor Oberst in any form until Friday. It's been a long time in waiting. (more...)
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Live - Bloc Party, Does It Offend You, Yeah? @ The Fillmore | SF

You ever have one of the bands you're completely stupid about? Like, someone asks you "Hey, have you ever heard of so-and-so?," and you start drooling and nodding like an idiot, unable to comment properly on your love for these groups?

I was in the presence of two of them last night, and I forgot my bib... (more...)
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Live - Hercules And Love Affair @ Mezzanine | SF

You know what is tragic? Entering a room full of beautiful men than you can't have. This is the ultimate shitty situation for a straight girl, and something I have nightmares about... (more...)
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Download - The Morning Benders' Covers Album

We've been following the dudes in The Morning Benders even since our very own Jenz hung out with them at a local playground. The indie popsters will be hitting the road once again in September, joining up with Ra Ra Riot for not-to-miss tour. (more...)

Mali and I attended the Air Guitar Regionals for San Francisco last night, and before I get into the sheer lunacy of the spandex and huge balls I saw last night, can I gripe for a minute on how high the minimum for opening tabs at bars seemingly is now? At du Nord Monday night, where we caught a local show (Tartufi was awesome), the min was $25; at 111 Minna, where I went for a happy hour last week, it was $20.

Now, I guess these places are trying to encourage you to drink in pairs? Groups? Or are feeding on people's low self-esteem and alcoholism? Because I know I am in trouble if I spend $25 on booze, just for me. I bring this up because at the Independent last night, the minimum amount to open a tab is $30 - holy shit! In my case, I like beer most of the time, so at $5-6 a piece, four beers is sufficient enough for me to be wasted. I'da been slinging back six beers if I wasn't with Mali drinking to our hearts' content up in the balcony. I know there's a thing about fees and charges through credit card companies to even have the machines in the bar blah blah blah, but that's when you make that shit cash only. $30. Wow.

Anyway, I'm recovering from the air fiesta that was last night. Today I bring you three wonderful clips in their annotated glory that I've been meaning to post. Enjoy!

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Live - Flight Of The Conchords @ Davies Symphony Hall | SF

Who are Flight of the Conchords? Who the hell are you if you are not acquainted with this fictional-but-they-do-exist in real life musical duo, who have a wildly successful show on HBO and now are somehow touring for fake songs about doing foreplay with toothpaste and fake peg leg cannibalism, complete with making lasagna for one and time-traveling to meet David Bowie to tell him how to make iconic music? (more...)

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Live - Lightspeed Champion, Explorers Club @ The Independent | SF

"I'm drinking in the middle of a lake on a rowboat," my friend Kim greeted me on the phone as I answered her call in between bands at the Lightspeed Champion show. Really? Could I get in on that brown-bagging action too?

It was a hard time last week in Jenzland, dear Tripwire readers. Ain't nothing like making an ass out of yourself in a drunken-yet-sobering confession to a guy you want to be make-out partners with, and ain't nothing like getting beat up by a makeshift loft bed the previous night while trying to put a high friend to bed after mischief in the cab that included the driver cussing us out for being obnoxious, but hey - it's all in a Good Samaritian's work, no? (more...)

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Live - Frightened Rabbit @ Independent | SF

I have a smattering of fears that rear their ugly heads when I attend shows. Lest be ridiculed for all of them - in particular the very dumb and the very scary ones - I will only share my main three.

One is that I will find myself in a boo-hoo situation and not be on whatever list to actually get in the show, hearing the music woefully from the outside. It's embarrassing and sad and very pathetic to argue, "But I am on the list!" with the box office person indignantly before getting promptly denied entry, and therefore stuck on the sidewalk. But because I'm an easygoing girl, my remedy is to smile and then seek out the nearest bar for a whiskey ginger ale and a text message to a BFF to trek on with the rest of my night. (more...)

Um, hell to the motherfucking yeah. It's what you've allllllllllllllllllllllllllll been waiting for...I'll the let the words speak for themselves...

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Interview - Wallpaper

Eric Frederic has problems. At least, I think he does, and he won't admit it.

For one, I don't believe some crazy guy named Ricky Reed, who is Frederic says is supposedly in his band, is real - but Frederic isn't willing to divulge anything else at first regarding his group composition. The recent UC-Berkeley graduate sits in front of me in a sunny café in the East Bay as we talk about his involvement in synth love-and-lust outfit Wallpaper, a dance party project carbonated with some of the best electro hooks I've heard in a long time.

But Frederic insists that Reed is indeed real and separate from him, someone that exists and breathes life into this fabulous clusterfuck group getting known for having a mouth permanently suctioned on an autotune. Frederic says he takes a backseat for more "behind the scenes" work.

"He's everything I'm not, essentially. He's nothing I really stand for," he says of his other (fictional?) band member, who rounds out the lineup alongside drummer Arjun Singh. Frederic taps his fingers on the marble table before continuing.

"Let me say, I totally would not want to hang out with Ricky Reed if he was a real person," he says. "If people could relate to this person this character...that makes me feel kinda weird." He cites obsessions with AIM and text messaging as activities of abundance, pitfalls for a lot of his peers and Reed as a character, and a little of Frederic himself too.

So why use Reed? Wallpaper comes from the cusp of Frederic's mental genius and insanity levels. Originally created to shoot the shit in between shows from his other gig, alternative band Facing New York, Frederic conceived Reed, dreamed to embody a side of Frederic that needed escape with a good dose of humor. Reed, the ambassador Frederic appointed to seduce women, wear tight jeans, and talk shit through, ends up being a very precarious and yet loveable figure with an upshot. While it's not a secret that Reed acts like an asshole on stage, there is still something weirdly endearing and heartfelt about his attempts to win the crowd over. When I ask how seriously Frederic takes the project and all its egos, which all only started to gain momentum in the past year, he stops to look me straight in the eye.

"Very seriously." Frederic pauses to adjust himself while maintaining our eye contact. "I do think Wallpaper is dealing with some serious subject matter in a way. There's excitement and fun, but there is a composition process that is very serious to me. You never get any filler, and that is important."



Frederic once released a record six songs long, each clocking in at two and half minutes; even if a single track seemed like it would go longer, it would stop in lieu of the rule. "It turned out to be 15 minutes total, like 15 minutes of fame," he says with a hint of amusement. "That was totally unplanned." The songs Frederic is talking now about being no filler and all killer are sparkling ones off new EP T-Rex released a few weeks ago, in addition to some older floater material. These babies have the air of being both carefully crafted masterpieces, polished for maximal dance and groping, but also feel rushed. There seems to be an exact science to the way the songs play out and at the same time carry a weird sense of disregard. Both weeklies in the Bay Area have branded Wallpaper to be a party band, but for a duo (trio?) being solely about getting funky, there sure is a lot of work that goes into the act. Frederic describes how he and Home Depot became friends after he built a portable kit from the store's materials that he, Reed and Singh used to crash this year's Coachella and play in the festival parking lots, risking arrest. He also describes how heat exhaustion almost consumed him in filming the video for "T-Rex," the single his label Eenie Meenie put out off the EP, nearly melting off his face while he wore a rubber dinosaur mask in 85-plus degree heat on the streets of downtown L.A.

Wallpaper spectacles that occur mid-show don't come on a silver platter, either. Specialty videos are created that correspond in time to verses in each song, and include random splices of footage like Lindsay Lohan's DUI picture and YouTube videos of black women on a digicam in their lingerie to pique the audience's attention. Reed recounts stories built on outrageous multipart elements and wild anecdotes each show, the crowd hearing a new tale nearly every night. But the superstar of the whole she-bang is in the wardrobe Reed has taken as his own and that comes in its own duffel bag: the apparel fit only for an R&B singer stuck in 1994. The culprits in the fashion entourage include a white sequined Chanel blazer, short silky gloves, a Price-Is-Right satin bomber jacket, a Justin Timberlake fedora, a gold chain that has been spray-painted with its signature hue for longevity - Frederic even has his own sort of jeweler, a guy who pops into shows every so often to upkeep the goods. Ask him what his favorite part of the get-up is, though, and Frederic will pin it up to the sunglasses with the neon arms that he got in a gas station in Texas.

"It's a great personal disconnect when they are worn...you're pretty much blind on stage," he says, describing an incident at a T-Rex release show in Sacramento where a girl in the front of the audience pulled off the shades while Reed was performing.

"I was like, 'Fuuuuuck,'" Frederic recalls, lingering on drawing out the curse word; his eyes grow huge with both fear and distraught, like a little kid gravely concerned about missing Saturday morning cartoons.

"Were you afraid you would be exposed, or that your cover was blown?" I ask.

"A little bit of both," he admits, demonstrating the way he awkwardly froze - eyes darting and all - after the girl snatched the shades before returning them shortly after trying them on. Crisis adverted, but he looks pretty anxious still even after explaining the story.



Frederic grew up in Pinole, a suburb tucked up in the northeast part of California's Bay Area. The 25 year-old credits his mom with first exposures to funk and soul, and being around the hyphy and new jack era of music in the Bay of the late 80s, "That one [Keith Sweat song] 'I Want Her,' it's such a terrible song if you actually listen to it but the aesthetic is so there!" he says. "Right now I'm listening to early 80s, actually, DeBarge, the Thriller album once a day. Sometimes twice."

Although the idea of Reed is only in stages of infancy, he was assigned a name and a personality face only at the beginning of this year, Frederic shields him much like a mentor does for his disciple. But the question gets begged on where Frederic ends and Reed begins. A comparison of videos of the Wallpaper frontman stemming from June and December last year show a decidedly different man in each. The June recording presents what feels like a fresh-faced kid covering tracks like BelBivDevoe's "Poison," it's pretty "aw"-worthy. None of the wardrobe specifics has even come into play. But fast forward to a Rickshaw Stop headlining gig six months later, and the guy on stage now belting out a song called "Every Time We Do It" has no qualms about using sex and swank as tools on stage, an air of confidence and debonair surrounding a now self-assured Reed that yes; the appeal is there.

This evolution from nerd to suave is also evident in the direction the band is currently facing. Early tracks like "Rich Bachelor" carry a strategically placed throwback to dance music, boiled down with simple hooks and the distortion mic. "T-Rex" is the crossover tune, Reed murmuring "While I'm waiting for this alcohol to settle into my veiny veiny veins, get off your seat while we flip it for you" before diving into how big he goes on weekends. It's newer gems like "So Wasted" and "The Remix" that carry and ultimately shine the light on what Frederic and co. are doing properly: crafting catchy-ass beats, coupling them with lyrics of subject matter Frederic both hates and loves but pens, and sautéing them to electronic perfection. Lyric "This cell phone is lifetime/This cell phone is free" from "The Remix" sounds like a clause in my Verizon contract, and I think that's what Frederic intends. It's so funny, it's not. And then is. And I'm dancing the whole time.

The deal breaker, though, is the stage persona that cultivated and is now peeking out. Reed now has been perfected and has teamed up with hysteria to deliver comical storylines that gives both The Young And The Restless and Monday Night RAW a run for its money. Wallpaper shows are full of amusing and exaggerated fibs that permeate the room. At the San Francisco EP release show in May, Reed talks about he dated Jessica Simpson (not true), her dumping him, and asking someone in the room who had her phone number to have Simpson "text him her love." At the Sacramento show the following week, he debuts a story about cannibalism at the end of "Rich Bachelor" since the song ends with "I'll eat you alive," recalling how he couldn't eat this one girl that was on the island with him because he was in love with her.

The antics don't stop once the live set wraps up anymore; the band has now taken to YouTube to construct blog entries that brink on the crest of hilarity and lunacy. In the first blog Reed announces a world tour only to retire the music business the following week in blog two upon discovering Grand Theft Auto IV sold more than the T-Rex EP. He then takes off to the Amazon and sends another blog to say he's OK. Singh, however, being the victim of public Reed terrorizations, decides to move forward with the band without Ricky Reed and brings on a Reed cousin who happens to look suspiciously and exactly like Ricky, but is named Robbie, who works at the Bayfair Mall in San Leandro. Robbie played with the band two weekends ago at a show in L.A. and comes off as being a small-town kid in a big pond when interviewed on camera, in comparison to Ricky's cocky manners. Singh says in the same vlog that Wallpaper may more on without Ricky, if need be.

Thinking "what the fuck" right about now might be a suitable reaction to the soap opera dramz. So what of it all? Are we onto the next saga of larger-than-life chronicles, R. Kelly caliber? Does it even matter, if it provokes a good laugh of appreciation?

"In an interview, you mentioned that Wallpaper was created during a time of hyphy and a re-emergence of 'musicians representing that Bay Area sound,' which made you want to pay tribute," I ask back at the coffee shop. I'm about to meet Ricky Reed after I finish with Frederic, and I want to know what I am getting into. "Do you think you are successfully doing that instead of being a cover band?"

"Oh, wow...that's a really good question," says Frederic. He looks thoughtfully out the window at the joggers and cars that pass by before delivering an answer.

"I really think the answer is in the eyes of the beholder. And, it comes down to authenticity, which is a dangerous term. For a long time, people thought things like jazz and white rappers were cheap shots at people's nostalgia, but both of those things proved longevity. When people see the passion for a project [such as Wallpaper], I think that is proof. I think there is a big difference between irony and satire - 'Oh yeah, here's this white guy singing,' but it is serious. I think developing something like this is incredible and super funny, and honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if this record gets canned."

"But what happens when people don't get what you're doing?" I press. "Are you a joke band? Are you making fun of yourselves, others?"

"Either you get it, or you don't. I think that's what it comes down to," says Frederic with a grin.

Now it's time to meet Reed.



I'm guided to a small, undisclosed location far from the place I originally met Frederic. I mean, really, really, far. The Amazon, to be specific. When I approach closer, I signal my presence to the man, and Ricky Reed casually glances towards me as I sit down next to him and flip out my notebook.

"People can't do without my wisdom for too long," says Reed as he reclines in his seat. He speaks with a slow cadence, half lazily, half sexily. It carries a tinge of "Oh, you like this?" attitude. I smirk. There is no undeniable joke in Reed's attire; the man really does look like if Run DMC had sex with a New Kid in person. I was warned by Frederic that interviews with Reed are notoriously hard to score and survive. A video diary with Filter the previous month had caused the interviewer to nearly break into tears at the end. I braced myself and politely asked what it has been like retreating into the depths of the Amazon.

"I got my WiFi, so it's okay," Reed says. "I got my own personal satellite up in space. But I mean, I'm kind of roughing it. I only got 25 of my closest entourage with me. I can't ride with my fleet of jets too much. I'm only importing fresh sushi from Shibuoa only every five days." I stifle giggles, but continue.

"I'm safe, you can still make funky music in the jungle...but I don't have plans to come back right now. There's not a lot for me in the U.S.," he admits in a moment of rare honesty.

Wait...did I just say Ricky Reed had a moment of rare honesty? Really?

After a few more small chat questions (the Pope was disappointed Wallpaper canceled the Vatican show, a secret love of Nelly's Apple Bottom jeans is discussed) it's photo shoot time. I was under the impression Frederic would be my subject, but scoring Reed is like Christmas in July. I watch him adjust his specs before I settle him into greenery as a lush backdrop. He even lets me accidentally graze his face with my fingers as I try to frame shots tightly around his bomber jacket; he acknowledges he is particularly nice to me since he likes me.

"Wait, before you start, can you grab my gloves?" he asks before I commence shooting. I lean over to pick them out of his bag, and joke that he should stitch up one of the hands that were fraying at the fingertip seams.

"Uh, no, they're supposed to be like that," Reed deadpans. "It's so I can snap along to my own music."

I turn my back to laugh and laud the dude in secret without him noticing before we begin the shoot.

"We're going to announce tour dates when Ricky gets back," Frederic informs me before we part ways. I'm back from my Reed session, and I smile. Yeah? Would Ricky be back by the end of summer? Did Robbie replace him for good? Would GTA IV ever be stopped? Will there be more pool parties? What if Ricky's Santa Monica house has foreclosure; would he still be a rich bachelor and have a million dollars?

"Awesome," I say. "I'll fucking be there."

Photos and words by JENZ

MySpace

Jun 16, 2008 in FEATURES

What a cool gent, especially when I made him wear those glasses...I love dudes in said eyewear like so...

Apparently, last night while I was napping before trekking out to popscene, an electrical fire consumed the depths of the Fillmore during the Dethklok show and peeps had to get evacuated. How fucking deth is that, I can't even tell you. I am way bummed I couldn't attend last night, lest my personal safety have been compromised, but hey - Brendon Small, I'm all yours forever...

This weekend is gonna prove boss: tonight is our free Whigs show at popscene, which I've been stoked on for weeks. And tomorrow, of course, is the actual Saturday fun day with lots of beer and bands (no backstage basketball this year, unfortunately), the sweet afterparty at Mezzanine, and then some Leisure throw in for good measure.

Good lord...no...sleep...

Anyway, to end the week of hard weeks (work totally fucking kicked my ass), here is my Ed Harcourt feature I ran; I really love our impromptu photo shoot, and I love the interior of Cafe du Nord to the max. Yay!

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Interview - Ed Harcourt

"Would you like some coffee, love?"

Ed Harcourt is on the phone with his manager when he greets me amidst unassembled gear and tangled wires at Café du Nord Monday, but it still doesn't stop him from offering me a kiss on the cheek and a cup of joe offer. Politely, I decline and wait for him to finish. It's been frenzied since Harcourt and his backing band arrive at the San Francisco venue - the sound guy is seemingly way stoned, and some of the wires combusted en route to merit an emergency Radio Shack run. Harcourt takes a deep breath before we sit down in the green room to discuss getting inked, his sweet sideburns, and the album The Beautiful Lie, of which he is on a mini power tour.

"I love pop, I love fucking underground weird stuff," says Harcourt as his drummer starts sound check, a thin wall separating him and us. "I get bored of one thing really fast, and I like approaching music and most everything in a curious way; I think I get more out that way."

"But really, why would anyone listen to my musical whinings?" he muses with a grin.

The Beautiful Lie is his masterpiece from two years ago seeing the light in the States just now, a record full to the brim of cinematic escapes and forthright rock anthems. Harcourt describes the layout of the record as "schizophrenic" and when he asked one of his friends for feedback on it, the answer was surprisingly candid.

"He said, 'It's like one half anthem-like, one half anti-social," Harcourt says with a laugh. "And I thought, 'Perfect.' I was working on two albums at the time with both different feels, and [this album] is a blend of both of those sounds."



Harcourt's open nature and heart translate to both stage and in person. Mid-song during his set, he jokes about bearing witness to a Girls Gone Wild bus at his hotel, and "some of these [people] had butts like shelves...you know, where you could just set a drink on." When I ask him my ever-imposing question about his side burns in the green room, he takes it with a shred of amusement.

"Oh really? Thank you," he says before mock yelling at the drummer through the wall to shut up. "I've had them ever since I was 18. But I am shaving off this caterpillar [points to his mustache] next week. I realized my wife will kiss me more." He then pulls up his pinstripe sleeves to display some stellar tattoo work on his forearms and biceps. We compare ink jobs before our time is cut short; he has to do that pesky sound check too.

The hard work pays off, as the show later that night is near impeccable, minus a short delay in initially starting. Ballad "Rain On The Pretty Ones" is a strikingly crisp and soft-hearted song live, the timeless feel of love forlorn punctuated with Harcourt's pangs of piano. And while the show overall emits a more hushed and gentle sound with tracks like "Until Tomorrow Then," which provides a platform for a lounge feel, Harcourt still shows that he can rock with the best of them with tunes like "Alligator Boy," electric guitar wails to no end.

"We're gonna be on the Tonight Show on Friday," he says to the crowd, who applaud approvingly. But even as he announces this monumental occasion to happen to him and his band, he still looks lovingly at the audience and smiles his appreciation. It's been a long road, yes, but he's finally making it.





Photos by Jenz

Ed Harcourt
MySpace

Jun 06, 2008 in FEATURES

What a wonderfully weird and a weirdly wonderful show. I have more to say on this night, but it'll run for tomorrow's second half.

Also, in WTF news, I didn't know these two were married??

JEALOUS

Hott. With two T's.

Linky for the show review here.

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Live - Destroyer @ The Independent | SF

Most material was centered off new full-length Trouble In Dreams, a record we called a "surreal, poignant, and artfully-crafted album," and Wednesday night's show promised and delivered just that. Backed by a supporting band, Bejar flipped between acoustics, straight rock, and folk with the breeziness of ease. "Foam Hands" and "Introducing Angels" were a quiet punch of love and angst rolled into a powerful ball, Bejar standing still on stage with his eyes closed to nail the choruses for both. "Shooting Rockets (From The Desk Of Night's Ape)" was a cinematic glory if we had ever seen one; the overwrought and sharp guitar overlaying the soft distortion and reverb gently in the distance was a delight. Crowd and personal favorite "Plaza Trinidad" was punctuated by sweet and tart piano with a jab of guitar intertwined, building for mini-epics of crescendos and peaks. I so wanted to be sitting on the venue floor listening to Destroyer on worn-in carpet and space pillows, daydreaming off to my heart's content while being cooled with silk fans, instead of standing in the balcony - but alas...

In between songs, Bejar talked about being Canadian, how particular meals sucked ("Man, fuck dinner" when he asked the audience if they'd eaten), and flashed awkward grins into the crowd of thanks and appreciation. Needless to say, we walked out of the show with smiles on our faces and happiness in our hearts. Thank you, Daniel.

Photos by JENZ.

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By JENZ May 27, 2008 in NEWS