Priceless Entertainment: Rachael Ray, Bad Jokes, and Japanese Ska-induced Riots

There was a line extending up the block, past two venues and a shady bail bonds office, and nearly into the next street’s crosswalk. Word had gotten out that ubiquitous celebrity chef and one-woman brand Rachael Ray was serving lunch at Beauty Bar.

Apparently the invite said something along the lines of “Rachael Ray, celebrity chef and indie music lover, invites you…” Indie music lover? And this whole time I thought her only love was for Wheat Thins.

We found our way inside where DJ Efren Ramirez (still coasting on his “Pedro from ‘Napoleon Dynamite’" fame) was spinning, but we continued on to the stage at the rear patio. The area was slowly filling, free margaritas were flowing, and the media empress herself was floating about in a sea of flashbulbs. Her food – ribs, mac and cheese, and bite-sized burgers – was being doled out and oh, did I mention her husband’s band (The Cringe) would be playing?

I have yet to listen to the free CDs they were giving out to see if the music is fittingly cringe-worthy – so for the meantime, let’s just say that it is.

Meanwhile, Autovaughn was wrapping its set and when the applause settled, I happened to again bump into our family friend. “Wow, you came to see Autovaughn!” he said.
“Sure,” I said. “There was a long line to get in because of Rachael Ray.”
“Who’s Rachael Ray?” he asked.

Apparently he’d been standing right next to the indie music lover herself during Autovaughn’s set and wasn’t quite sure why everyone was so excited to snap pictures of the hostess.

We boogied on outta there and headed up to the less-glitzy festivities at Waterloo Park. Making our way to Stage One, we were promised an afternoon of comedy. But what we got was some of the most groan-inducing repartee I have perhaps ever heard. This is, and I am not making this up, one of the jokes told by a showcasing comedian:

“The previous comedian mentioned Courtney Love. What’s glassier – Courtney Love’s stare or the glass floor Courtney Love walks on? The answer is C: Philip Glass.”

Yeah. I’m not sure I have any words to adequately describe just how bad the rest of the jokes were.

We wandered around for bit looking for something interesting, and found exactly that at Emo’s – an all teen girl Japanese ska band called Oreskaband – or maybe Ore Ska Band – I’m not really sure.

The thing I am sure about is how quickly a group of Asian girls in ties could motivate a group of 20-something boys to start a dance-induced mosh pit through their high energy tunes. Dancing and tooting on trumpets and saxophones, the band put on an impressive show – and all props must go to the amazing electric guitar player. She truly rocked.

To properly finish off a highly weird afternoon, we paid a stop to the Liverpool Sound City showcase – which could have easily doubled as a sauna. We caught a set by The Rascals – a UK group that’s practically indistinguishable from the Arctic Monkeys – but our real want was to see The Wombats.

While their full album may still not be available in the states, if you can get your hands on a copy of The Wombats’ “A Guide To Love, Loss, and Desperation,” it’s definitely worth listening to – many times. The album’s breakout hit, “Let’s Dance to Joy Division” isn’t a question, it’s a command. Boogie.

Getting Offended: The Ting Tings, Santogold, Shout Out Louds, and She & Him

An afternoon at Stubb’s quickly turned into an evening at Stubb’s – the first part of it anyway, as we scurried to catch the end of the UK duo The Ting Tings. We were running a bit late, as I’d been caught up having coffee with a friend of the family who recommended I check out The Heavenly States (from Oakland) and a band called Autovaughn. I told him I’d make a note of it.

Hearing just the last couple of songs from The Ting Tings, it seemed that they’d be best served by picking a sound and style and sticking with it. And, if I might suggest one – the high-powered rapped-over electrorock they cranked out at the end on “That’s Not My Name.”

The Tings were quickly followed up by Brooklyn diva and would-be MIA successor Santogold who was flanked on either side by white sunglassed dancers in black and white parachute-style pants. Backed by Diplo who was running the mix, Santogold was undoubtedly the happiest person in the venue and her incessant smile let you know it. Though when she easily belted out “L.E.S. Artists” everybody was happy to smile.

We were in the mood to dance and a quick glance at our watches let us know that we had just enough time to ask ourselves Does It Offend You, Yeah? In the half-lit back part of Emo’s heads bobbed and booties shook when the British rockers proclaimed “We Are Rockstars.” They were rockstars and we were anything but offended.

To change things up, we powerwalked to the Parish on 6th Street for Swedish smoothies the Shout Out Louds, who delighted with stellar versions of “Impossible” and “The Comeback.” It was the plan to be at the venue early to make sure we got good spots for one of the fest’s hottest tickets – the Zooey Deschanel / M. Ward project, She & Him.

When a doe-eyed starlet joins forces with an indie darling, tongues tend to wag, and we were glad to have our curiosity justly satisfied by seeing the duo up close. With folk/country sensibilities and simple songwriting, the collaborators seemed to pull it off – with some assistance from sometimes Bright Eyes bassist Stefanie Drootin. Note to Hollywood: Have a part that requires an actress to sing? Cast Zooey. Nothing could have saved “Spiderman 3” – but Dechanel’s singing far surpasses the likes of Kirsten Dunst.

Spin Cycle: An Afternoon With The Raveonettes and Vampire Weekend

Choosing to make good use of our status symbol invite-only SPIN party badges, we headed to Stubb’s to catch Ben Jelen’s hyper electric fiddling as he wrapped a sweat-soaked set. It was hot and the incessant axe swinging of The Whigs made things feel hotter. Folks had been buzzing about the Atlanta, GA band, but musically it was hard to differentiate song from song or chorus from melody. They may have just taken turns playing expert guitar solos, I’m not really sure.

The band I was really here to see was The Raveonettes – those formerly Danish hipsters whose “Lust Lust Lust” disc I’d been spinning quite frequently. The two front members each wore big ‘80s era sunglasses and Sharin Foo donned perfect classy old-school hipster garb with her high-necked red blouse and fitted black skirt. “Hallucinations” was a definite standout, while the danceable “You Want The Candy” was a solidified hit. The band chose to end on a more somber not with the ethereal “Aly, Walk With Me,” and may have been better served by slotting “You Want The Candy” in here.

The so-called “it” band that people were packing in to see though was the collegiate quartet Vampire Weekend. The former Ivy Leaguers had made a couple of appearances in SF in early February and subsequently sold out their late March shows. Their brand of upbeat melodies often sound like something you’d hear on a funky carousel, and while “A-Punk” is a solid track and a worthy single, one can’t help but wish there was a little more to get excited about. Of course, for a band that’s already played SNL and landed the cover of SPIN while still in its infancy, they must be doing something right. Even if that something is marketing.

Hipster Pants and Intense Sincerity

Eager to embrace our first night at SXSW, we ran to Cedar Door to catch LA dance-rockers Iglu & Hartly. Each of the band members had taken special care to wear the tightest pants they could find – one of the lead singers donning brilliant orange ones topped with a low-cut top featuring cartoon drawings and exposing an impossibly hairy chest. Despite their seemingly constricted legs, they were ready to rock the crowd and justly did so with electro strains and a rapping style borrowed from Mickey Avalon.

It was a 180 degree turn then, to walk into Mohawk Patio for the mellow stylings of Wisconsin’s Bon Iver. With songs infused with a genuine pain and far-reaching vocals, the group tried to woo the crowd into chanting “what might have been lost” before the drummer lost his mind and broke out the intense beats.

It was a packed house at Mohawk, but the crowd was there for one reason: Jens. With a full band, including a tiny Tinkerbell of a bassist, a bongo player, fiddler, cellist, and electronic mix-master, Jens Lekman gave a rousing performance, himself alternating between guitar and keyboard. He did a stellar version of “A Postcard to Nina” – complete with full story details further explaining the song, and let the mix-master work in the chorus line from Chairmen of the Board’s “Give Me Just a Little More Time” on “The Opposite of Hallelujah.” The Swedish sensation is definitely here to stay.

Third Time’s A Charm

At 5:30am, when I was half-way through my shower, I got a call from American Airlines that my flight had been delayed. 15 minutes later I was knee-deep in anxiety trying to re-schedule my now cancelled flight. Having been excited for weeks knowing I would be making my third pilgrimage to Austin, Texas for the South by Southwest Music conference, I was befuddled at the possibility of not going due to an airline failure.

It was bad enough that we’d already been bumped from the Sheraton due to a hotel overbooking mishap, but the very thought of staying home was unbearable. So, I did what any die-hard indie music festival lover would do -- woke up my roommate with faux-kidnapping flair and hightailed it to the airport.

We talked our way into bulkhead seats on the next flight and finally, at 8pm (5 hours later than our scheduled arrival) we’d made it to Austin.

We walked forthrightly into the convention center to pick up our badges, and were flanked by neon images of a pretty-boy band beaming from multiple TV screens broadcasting the concert going on in the room next door. “Who is that we asked?” and consulted the schedule to see that it was, of course, Hanson.

We’d just traveled 1500 miles to get to indie rock’s yearly keystone fiesta and this is what we get: Mmmbop.

Texas Adventure 2008: SXSW

With the South by Southwest Music Festival merely a few days away, I can hardly contain my level of excitement. I been waking up dancing to the sounds of Simian Mobile Disco and White Williams, playing The Wombats’ “A Guide to Love, Loss, and Desperation” and The Raveonettes’ “Lust Lust Lust” on repeat, and putting the spit shine on my cowboy boots. A trip to Austin, TX demands it.

In preparation for my adventure, I present a special pre-SXSW playlist of what has me most excited.