Live Review: The Flaming Lips

Live Review: The Flaming Lips

Toddler synthesizer in tow, Flaming Lips launch Noise Pop festival: Aidin Vaziri | People dressed up in furry animal costumes played air guitar in the aisles. Dudes with beards and reading glasses stuck together with duct tape stood around as giant balloons bounced off their heads. Clouds of confetti exploded above, bold obscenities flashed onto the massive screen in the back, and a fog enveloped the stage so thick that nobody would have been surprised to see Satan himself step out of it holding a pair of drumsticks and hoisting his middle finger. And that was before anyone even played a note of music. Could the Flaming Lips possibly make a more boring entrance? On Monday, the Oklahoma band returned to Bimbo's 365 Club to kick off this year's Noise Pop festival and ostensibly get the early word out on its 12th album, "At War With the Mystics." It accomplished this within the first five minutes. Swinging a bare light bulb over his head like an electric lasso, front man Wayne Coyne, 45, led the band through the swelling, chaotic, orchestral pop masterpiece "Race for the Prize." By the time the Flaming Lips hit the first chorus, they had everyone from the shirt-flinging fans in front to the seen-it-all industry folks hanging by the bar going mental. "That's a good start, huh?" asked the singer, clad in a sleek vest and stylishly undone bowtie. Not good enough apparently, as the group decided to follow it immediately with a blinding sing-along of Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody," officially the most ludicrous song in the history of mankind made all the more ludicrous with the addition of two men in Santa suits nodding their heads at the side of the stage. And Coyne claims he hasn't touched LSD since high school.

Review: Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Review: Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Yeah Yeah Yeahs "Show Your Bones": Aidin Vaziri | Has a band ever felt more disposable than the Yeah Yeah Yeahs? In 2001, the New York trio came across like an afterthought to the Strokes, kind of like a cheap novelty act that happened to come from the same town and appropriate the same influences but somehow got it all wrong. On a swirl of hype, the group landed fashion spreads and a coveted spot opening for the White Stripes (its first ever public appearance, no less). But for the most part the Yeah Yeah Yeahs debut album, "Fever To Tell," was a disappointment, hinging almost entirely on singer Karen O's wild personality and a clunky dance-punk sound that might have sounded great in a bar but was ridiculous coming through headphones. That is until near the end of the album, where the group had buried its soul in a bruised, bristling ballad called "Maps." The sleeper hit clearly marked the way forward -- emotion over artifice. Thanks to a pair of high-profile breakups for O (with Liars singer Angus Andrew and director Spike Jonze), the group had no choice. From the meditative rhythm and softly strummed acoustic guitar that introduces the opening track, "Gold Lion," to the evocative mantra that fuels "Cheated Hearts" ("Take these rings, stow them safe away/ I'll wear them on another rainy day"), "Show Your Bones" reveals that the Yeah Yeah Yeahs do self-absorption surprisingly well. The sonic cues on the threesome's second album are richer as well, drawing on the soft-rock technique that works so well for the likes of Radiohead and the Pixies, only with added tribal drums and O's seductive banshee purrs. There's even a brief folky moment in "Warrior," where the Yeah Yeah Yeahs' surrender to convention makes them sound braver than ever. This one is a keeper.

Pop Quiz: Missy Higgins

Pop Quiz: Missy Higgins

Aidin Vaziri | Missy Higgins is a big deal back home, playing stadiums in Sydney and scooping up prizes at the MTV Australia Music Video Awards and in Rolling Stone Australia's readers' poll. But here? Not so much. Which is great because it means we get a little more time to see the 22-year-old singer-songwriter up close and personal as she runs through songs from her melancholy debut album, "The Sound of White," and resists the urge to shake her booty.


Missy Higgins
Q: So what is your show like? Do you pretty much just stand there?
A: I've been working out a routine lately, actually. It involves lots of sequins.
Q: Really?
A: No, actually. Unfortunately -- well, fortunately for me -- I'm always stuck behind an instrument. I've got one or two songs where I do a bit of dancing, but nothing choreographed.
Q: What music do you secretly dance to when you're home alone?
A: Nina Simone.
Q: Is that even possible?
A: I've got this blues album of hers that's really upbeat. Also, that Ray Charles soundtrack. Those are my favorite things to dance to.
Q: What about Kylie Minogue?
A: No.
Q: Not even "Can't Get You Out of My Head"?
A: No.
Q: Come on.
A: I'm not really into that poppy dance music. It never really clicked with me. I'm kind of more into a good bluesy rhythm.
Q: Don't you feel like you're missing out since it takes so much more effort listening to Ray Charles than it does Kylie?
A: For me, it would take much more effort to listen to Kylie than it would Ray Charles.

"Rock Star: The Series" Auditions

"Rock Star: The Series" Auditions

Wannabe rockers sniff out the big time at 'Rock Star: The Series' auditions in S.F.: Aidin Vaziri | What's that smell? Oh right, it's the bovine musk of the leather trousers that were pulled out of closets all over Northern California on Tuesday in anticipation of the San Francisco open auditions for the second season of "Rock Star: The Series," held at the newly opened Rockit Room on Clement Street. For those who missed it the first time around (the ratings started slow but finished strong), that's the CBS reality show produced by "Survivor" and "The Apprentice" creator Mark Burnett in which aspiring rockers try out for the lead position of an established band. Last year's winner, 31-year-old Canadian J.D. Fortune, is fronting INXS, the Australian group whose original singer, Michael Hutchence, was found hanging naked from a door in a Sydney hotel room in 1997. This year's show, scheduled to premiere this summer, doesn't quite have such a grim air about it. The line of 100 or so people outside the Rockit Room snaked past a Chinese produce market and around the corner, with contestants nervously clutching lyric sheets and coffee. Some came with guitars, others with laptops. Some wore three-piece suits, others sweats. And while quite a few chatted or ran through scales, a good number stood around with iPods in their ears just trying to get into the rock 'n' roll spirit so early in the morning. "Most rock singers are vampires," said Brooks Lundy, the singer in local Police tribute band Stung, who was one of the first through the door. Inside the audition room, a group of four casting directors worked their way through a procession of contestants who belted out covers of songs by the likes of Journey, Duran Duran and Maroon 5, but mostly Led Zeppelin.

Backstage at the SF Grammys

Backstage at the SF Grammys

From jazz to punk, 'S.F. Grammys' is a meeting of great musical minds, talents: Aidin Vaziri | Backstage at the Recording Academy Honors on Sunday, it was one weird and wonderful scene after another. Jazz pianist George Duke, who had just rolled in from the airport, greeted everyone he met by apologizing for his appearance. The members of multiplatinum punk-pop band My Chemical Romance, on hand to pay tribute to Green Day, sulked outside the press room at the Westin St. Francis Hotel in San Francisco's Union Square in their black denim jackets and tattered sneakers as Don Cornelius, the stoic host of the original "Soul Train," brushed past in a fine pinstripe suit with a statuesque redhead, an alligator skin briefcase in his hand. Meanwhile, just as Dick Bright, the evening's lively master of ceremonies, announced to no one in particular that the main reason he was there was because of "Brubeck!," the elevator doors slid open and out came jazz great Dave Brubeck and his wife, Iola. As the flashbulbs started to pop and the television cameras started to roll in the moments leading up to the main event, the San Francisco Chapter's 2006 Recording Academy Honors (or the S.F. Grammys, if you prefer), everyone was buzzing. Honoree Tom Mazzolini, the founder of the San Francisco Blues Festival, took it all in from a distance. "I feel very awed being around all these musical giants," he said. "It's very exciting." Jazz bassist Stanley Clarke, who was there to introduce Duke, loudly reckoned, "George should get every award there is." For some 15 minutes all eyes were on Green Day. As the East Bay punk trio posed for photographs with event organizers Merl Saunders Jr. and Neil Portnow, drummer Tre Cool closely examined his cut-glass Tiffany's trophy and nodded in approval before cradling it like a baby. "It's an honor to be here because it's an honor," said the group's lead singer, Billie Joe Armstrong. Then someone got the bright idea to shove Brubeck into the frame. "I think I need some eyeliner," he said. Just as quickly Green Day's manager cleared out the band and the room, "We're done! We're done! We've got to go."

Pop Quiz: Beastie Boys

Pop Quiz: Beastie Boys

Aidin Vaziri | After seeing a fan's grainy camera-phone clip on the band's message board, a flash of inspiration hit the Beastie Boys. Three days later, the veteran rap trio handed out 50 hand-held cameras to concertgoers at its Madison Square Garden show with one simple instruction: Start filming when they hit the stage and don't stop till it's over. The resulting footage, shot in October 2004, was originally intended for a live DVD, but it was so good, it became a concert film that will hit theaters nationwide next week. Catch an advance screening of "Awesome! I F -- Shot That" Thursday at AMC 1000. Adam Yauch (known as MCA in the band, but who inexplicably prefers to go by the nom de plume Nathanial Hörnblower when he's behind the camera), acted as de facto director, whittling down 100 hours of raw footage with 6,732 edits into an action-packed two hours. What was he thinking?

Adam Yauch of Beastie Boys
Q: Are you too cheap to hire a real camera crew?
A: I hadn't really thought of it that way. No, it wasn't really a financial thing. I just thought it would be a cool way to document a concert. I had seen this piece of footage this kid had shot on his camera phone and uploaded onto our Web site. Something about the way it was handheld and all grainy and lo-res, it just felt like it had this energy. A lot of concert films that are shot in much fancier ways, like sweeping boom shots and HD cameras, don't capture it as well. It seemed like an interesting idea.
Q: You got all that out of a camera-phone clip?
A: Yeah, it just kind of gave me an idea.
Q: How did you come up with 50 cameras?
A: I just tried to come up with a number that was in the realm of "a bunch." We were trying to find Hi-8 cameras, which is kind of an outdated format.
Q: How many cameras did you lose that night?
A: None. They all got returned.
Q: Are you totally sick of the Beastie Boys now?
A: No, not at the moment. There were moments during the editing where I needed to take a break.

Live Review: Train

Live Review: Train

Train at the Fillmore: Aidin Vaziri | On Thursday, the former Bay Area band played the first of four not-quite-sold-out shows at the Fillmore, beginning a North American tour that stretches over the next two months. "Thank you for welcoming us back home," front man Pat Monahan humbly announced near the beginning of the set. And you could tell he meant it after everything he's been through in the past few years: an emotionally draining divorce, the unexpected suicide of his best friend and a major shakeup in Train's lineup. Of course, if you didn't know about all that, you could hardly be faulted for not noticing that this was meant to be a cathartic moment. That's because Monahan makes for a curious front man. Wearing what appeared to be women's jeans and a paint-splattered shirt, he smiled broadly and pirouetted around the stage, even when he was digging into the depths of his soul. During the ballad "Mississippi," he brought up a girl from the audience to serenade, but when she started dancing a little too seductively, he traded her in for one who had her hormones more suitably in check. And he tiptoed around his recent troubles with vague declarations such as, "And so she left, thank God," acting out the words in some sort of weird mime routine.

Review: Editors

Review: Editors

Editors "The Back Room": Aidin Vaziri | They wore raincoats and hated life. That's it. That's what made all those early '80s bands so great -- not the mascara, not the shoes, not having kids from "The O.C." guest star in their music videos. Why is it that Editors seem to be the only ones to grasp this while peers like She Wants Revenge and the Killers are busy shopping for studded leather belts and "Vote for Pedro" T-shirts at Hot Topic? Written and recorded in gloomy old Birmingham while the four members suffered the indignities of real work (at a women's shoe store, no less), this album cuts straight to the essentials -- broken egos and broken hearts. Songs like "Munich" ("People are fragile things, you should know by now," sings Tom Smith) and "Camera" ("I just close my eyes as you walk out") don't so much revive the wide-screen guitar rock of Echo & the Bunnymen, Joy Division and U2 as rival the originals. Really. Yes, the lyrics can feel a little simplistic at times, but the feelings are all too real. When, on the opening track, "Lights," Smith intones, "I got a million things to say," it's not so much the words that matter but the urgency and hope that pushes through his naturally low, detached voice. You can't help but believe him. Likewise, you can feel the air sucked out of his lungs when he cuts through the stabbing rhythms and swirling despair of "Fingers in the Factories" to deliver the plea, "Keep with me, keep with me, keep with me." It's stunning stuff. On first impression, Editors might sound like every other band out there at the moment, but time will prove they were the only ones actually worth swooning over.

Pop Quiz: Daniel Powter

Pop Quiz: Daniel Powter

Aidin Vaziri | If you don't recognize Daniel Powter just yet, don't worry. By the end of the year he'll either be your favorite new singer- songwriter or the biggest nuisance in your life since that stupid ape in Donkey Kong threw barrels at you. The 34-year-old Canadian's hit "Bad Day" is quickly turning up everywhere (just as it did last year in Europe), including a recent episode of "American Idol," and his self-titled debut album isn't far behind (after several delays, it's finally coming out in April). He would like to apologize in advance.


Daniel Powter
Q: Do you want to apologize in advance for how many times people are going to hear "Bad Day"?
A: Yeah, I'll apologize in advance for how many times you're going to be exposed to the song. Hopefully, what I'm thinking is that it will get you into the rest of the record. That's really the idea.
Q: I read something recently that said after the next nuclear holocaust cockroaches will still be buying that record. Did you know that when you made it?
A: Dude, you are so eloquent. I can just tell you love this record. You're so nice.
Q: Answer the question: Did you want cockroaches to buy your single?
A: I don't know how to approach this answer. It's funny, because we did most of this record in a really small apartment in Vancouver. I did the vocal in this little bathroom with a cat litter box in the corner, and it smelled like hell. I thought the song was melodic enough to get on the radio, but sonically, just because we had no money, I didn't think that any radio would play it.
Q: I think Brian Wilson used to have a cat litter box in his studio, too.
A: The apartment we made it in was the same building where Errol Flynn died, so there were all these weird ghosts and stuff. The crazy part is, if you solo the instruments, you can hear a garbage truck going down the alley and people banging on the walls and telling us to shut up.
Q: Wow. You sound like a great neighbor.

Review: Babyshambles

Review: Babyshambles

Babyshambles "Down In Albion": Aidin Vaziri | Pete Doherty is most famous for getting wasted and arrested. The fact that he's also a musician seems almost incidental. He was given the boot from promising British punkers the Libertines in 2004 after he burglarized his band mate's flat. Attempts to get his pop career back on track since then have met with unusual hurdles: Doherty habitually missed shows, spent three months in jail for assaulting a documentary filmmaker, even reportedly skipped out on an Oasis gig because he was engaged in a fistfight with Kate Moss. His latest project, Babyshambles, is another miss. Haphazardly produced by the Clash's Mick Jones, songs like "F -- Forever" and "Killamangiro" find Doherty wallowing in self-pity without expressing any real interest in standing up -- or any real interest in hammering out a proper tune. It's the kind of album only a junkie could love.

Pop Quiz: Lisa Loeb

Pop Quiz: Lisa Loeb

Aidin Vaziri | What did singer-songwriter Lisa Loeb, who is best known for the '90s hit "Stay," do after her six-year relationship with fellow musician Dweezil Zappa fell apart? She got herself a reality television show and went looking for a new man, that's what. Every week on "#1 Single," which airs on E!, cameras follow the 37-year-old Brown graduate on a series of bad dates and self-help exercises in her unwavering quest to find a husband and start making babies. Of course, the odd scenes of Loeb prancing around in her undies don't hurt ratings either. "The Very Best of Lisa Loeb" is out now (and, yes, it contains more than one song).


Lisa Loeb
Q: I've watched the scene of you walking around in a thong so many times my eyes are going to fall out of my head.
A: Oh, no.
Q: You probably don't have too much trouble getting dates now.
A: I've gotten a lot of offers lately. It's kind of crazy. It's kind of like when they ran my last breakup across the bottom of the screen on CNN.
Q: Does it make you feel better to hear about other celebrities breaking up, like Richie Sambora and Heather Locklear?
A: Well, on one hand, it makes me less lonely knowing that it doesn't always work for everybody. On the other hand, it makes me a bit sad because I've met like Richie Sambora and Heather Locklear and they seem so cute and nice and talented. It's just so disappointing that they did everything they could and it just didn't work out and that they have kids and stuff. Or Sheryl Crow and Lance Armstrong, I'm sure she was excited to finally settle down with this guy who was this young, talented, driven guy with kids, and it just doesn't work out. Again, it's that sharing of experience. It doesn't make me happy. It makes me feel they're humans, too, and they're going through the same thing.
Q: Yes, but it also means Richie Sambora and Lance Armstrong are now available!

Review: David Gilmour

Review: David Gilmour

David Gilmour "On An Island": Aidin Vaziri | David Gilmour released his last solo album in 1984, when it was acceptable to have songs made up entirely of NASA sound effects and men in yellow silk suits playing sax solos while navigating yachts. It's funny how little time and fashion have changed the Pink Floyd front man's outlook. It's also great that he's so unaffected. "On an Island" sounds comfortingly familiar, and not just because of the sweeping orchestral swells and detached voices that open up the disc. More likely it's because the CD sounds like every Pink Floyd album since "Dark Side of the Moon" crammed into one -- by turns lush and haunting, played entirely in slow motion and prominently showcasing Gilmour's delicate voice and guitar combo. The instrumental "Then I Close My Eyes" is an unexpected standout, as is a deliciously lush "The Blue." Do we really need Radiohead anymore?