Doused in deep blue and purple lights, Diane Birch took the stage in her fedora and sat down at the piano, performing in front of a dimly lit audience who were both sitting and standing. The venue, Joe’s Pub, had a feeling of an old speakeasy, and Birch’s voice, full of soul, soothed the listeners into nodding their heads and swaying in the candlelight.
Singing songs from her debut album, Bible Belt, Birch’s performance was simple, but simplistic in a way that music still should be: a piano, a band, soft lighting and friendly banter between songs.
Birch was charming every time she took a moment to speak to the audience. It was quite hot under the lights and the beads of water dripping from the band’s faces told the story, but Birch quickly made light of the situation, laughing and saying, “I wish I wore waterproof mascara,” and in quick response one of her band members shouted back, “Live and learn.”
With moments like that, Birch managed to turn an already intimate room into an even more personal space, with stories about everything from her conservative upbringing to her gothic teenage style to her parents’ response to her profanity on her blog.
Ending the show with a cover of Tom Petty’s song “You Don’t Know What It’s Like,” Birch lightened the mood before she was called back on stage for her encore in which she once again soothed the audience with the soft melody of her voice. Birch is a singer worth following for her music, her lyrics and, if nothing else, for the purity she brings to the art form.
-Jenna Browning
“We came here to play in the U.S. and find a Brazil that is even more Brazilian than Brazil itself,” said Skank lead vocalist Samuel Rosa halfway through their two-hour set at The Nokia Theater last Friday. “Thank you for taking the effort to come see us tonight.”
Skank took the stage at around 10:00 PM – roughly two hours after the time the show had been announced. As they prepared to begin, a local DJ warmed up the crowd with the help of Samba Brazil, who played their percussion-based samba. At around 9:30, a selection of tunes picked by the band members began playing on the PA system, but by that time the crowd was uneasy, and they started to Boo and scream for “começa” (“begin”).
The curtain opened to an empty stage, and a few seconds later the quartet walked onto a stage backed by four supporting musicians, starting off with two energetic tunes that immediately got fans on their feet – all the delays seemed to have been instantly forgiven at that point.
The first tune that was immediately recognizable was “Partida de Futebol” (“Soccer Game”), a major hit that became an anthem of sorts after being included in FIFA's official soundtrack for the 1998 World Cup, earning Skank plenty of international airplay. That was the first great sing-along moment of the show.
Aware that most of the fans present there would not be familiar with music from their newly released Estandarte (which can be streamed in its entirety here http://skank.uol.com.br/multimidia/musicas/player/estandarte), Skank filled the set with a mix of tunes from their fifteen-year career, including “Uma Esmola” (“Alms”), “Pacato Cidadão” (“Peaceful Citizen”) and “Jackie Tequila.”
Halfway through the show, they paid tribute to Michael Jackson (who died the previous day) with a highly personal rendition of “Billie Jean” built around the tune's chorus, which led to some free improvisation that showcased the individual talents of the other band members. There 
were also two more covers: a ska-inflected rendition of Paralamas do Sucesso's controversial “Nega Bombril” (“Curly-Haired Black Woman”) and Gilberto Gil's “Vamos Fugir” (“Let's Run Away”), all well-received by fans.
One of the few tunes from the new disc was “Sutilmente,” (“Subtly”), a beautiful ballad written in partnership with singer-songwriter Nando Reis, a longtime collaborator who has penned tunes for Marisa Monte, Titas and many others. That song was clearly inspired by George Harrison's early work, with an arrangement built around slide guitar.
The set ended close to the midnight hour, almost half an hour behind Nokia Theater's schedule (Skank is known for extending their shows beyond the limit – in 2002 at Summerstage, organizers had to pull the plug on them after they went over their allotted time) – fans left with big smiles on their faces, clearly forgiving and forgetting the long wait they'd had to endure over the evening. The band sounded as tight as ever – Samuel Rosa's guitar skills have improved greatly from the last time I saw them, and the same can be said about Henrique Portugal (acoustic guitar,keys), Lelo Zanetti (bass) and Haroldo Feretti (drums). It is little wonder why Skank has become one of the most acclaimed bands in the Brazilian rock scene.
words & photos by Ernest Barteldes
I was fortunate enough to catch Brody Dalle’s (The Distillers) new band, Spinnerette, at the Bowery Ballroom. Strong opening acts, The Gay Blades, were first. These guys had a kind of a ’90s alternative rock sound mixed with occasional loud, heavy breaks. For a two man band, they impressed me with their fun stage presence and overall energy.
Next came Band of Skulls who, while talented in the modern rock style, were also rather aloof to the audience to the point where I don’t even think they told us who they were. They came out with a Bleach era Kurt Cobain-looking lead singer, a thousand foot tall chick bassist and a Zach Galifianakis-dead ringer drummer, so I didn’t know what to expect. “Kurt” was mostly static throughout the night so his thunder was stolen by the energetic bassist, but even she alone couldn’t save their overall stage presence.
Spinnerette then took the stage with a lackluster start, which at first didn’t seem like a good omen for a relatively new band, but Dalle explained she was fighting a cold. (“You ever get a shot in the ass?! I got a shot in the ass today!”) She went on to explain that the cold was apparently the fault of fellow tour mates Band of Skulls, so maybe they actually can rock and tonight was just an off night.
Even while her movements were stilted, her powerful vocals still never faltered. (what was in that shot and where can I get one?) Towards the middle of the set, though, Dalle gained the energy to round out the performance with more intensity for her new modern rock sound, but still not quite reaching previous Distillers level. Even so, the show was just the shot in the ass I needed.
Words and Photo by Jen Klee
The first emotion besieging anyone who entered Terminal 5 on Wednesday was nostalgia. Norman Cook, pseudonym Fatboy Slim, was onstage imperiously gazing down on the expectant audience while the huge screen behind him played not one scene but a montage of clips from both the 1971 Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory and the 2005 incarnation, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. As Gene Wilder’s voice on the song “Pure Imagination” floated out of the massive loudspeakers, Cook was preparing himself for what has to be one of the strongest electronica and big beat sets to have graced Terminal 5’s stage.
Before I went to the show, I attempted to casually express my excitement to a co-worker quite a bit older than I am. When I brought up Fatboy Slim, she looked at me in surprise, saying, “I didn’t know that younger people even knew who he was.” I recoiled in horror, indignant on behalf of all of us kids who know good music can come from people who were alive before we were. To be honest, if you know anything about mainstream dance music or have watched teen flicks from the 1990s (She’s All That anyone?) you know who Norman Cook is, though you may not know that Norman Cook is his real name.
Cook has clearly cemented a place for himself as a pioneer in electronic music and time has not dulled his edge in any way. His set was fluid, with transitions that continually kept waves of excitement rolling through the crowd at every turn. It was not only the set that made the performance so intense– his entire performing space and he himself were a huge part of the appeal. The venue was large enough that the crowd could move comfortably without hurting one another as the inevitable dancing began, and the video show behind Cook was a huge focal point.
Innovative and interesting, Cook filled it with graphics that followed the beat and occasionally clips of his own music videos that seemed tailored for the show. Cook himself was dancing and rocking to overwhelming positive reactions from the crowd, clearly enjoying every minute of the show and extending that to all those watching. Cook was also in New York performing as the Brighton Port Authority, along with cohort Iggy Pop. He pulled a quick identity switch to perform this one Fatboy Slim show, his only East coast performance.
-Nida Nizam
“This is awesome,” Little Joy’s Binki Shapiro proclaimed to a sold out crowd at the Bowery Ballroom Tuesday night. “This is our last show. We’ve got one in Mexico, but that doesn’t really count. Just kidding.” With a room as full as the drinks being poured at the bar she continued, “But seriously, this is our last show in America, and it’s great to be ending in New York.”
Rodrigo Amarante opened the show on stage solo, singing in Portuguese to a well responding crowd. Amarante was joined by Todd Dahlhoff and Matt Borg from the Dead Trees; Jack Dishel from Only Son; and Matt Romano, drummer from Albert Hammond Jr’s band. The crowd immediately began to rock with the band’s catchy groove.
The band rolled right into their third track where they were joined by Adam and Kyle of The Teenage Prayers. Red, blue, yellow and white lights above the stage flickered on and off the bouncing crowd. The joining saxophone and trumpet from the Prayers let out a full, rich sound that even got Shapiro stunned.
“I can’t believe I’m supposed to sing a song after that,” Shapiro said. “They are fucking awesome.” Shapiro—dressed in a flirty butterfly dress—took a swig from her beer bottle, set it back on the xylophone and began a spot-on vocal performance of “Unattainable” that did nothing less than rival the latter.
The best play of the night, however, was the band’s cover of “Midnight Voyage” originally by the Mamas and the Papas. Amarante removed his jacket and took over the keyboard. The crowd took to the beat right away and didn’t stop singing and dancing to the feel good version until it was over. The band closed their set with “Brand New Start,” bringing out a few special “fans” that included drummer from The Strokes and Little Joy co-founder Fabrizio Moretti, songstress Regina Spektor and others. What resulted was a full house sing-along both on and off the stage, ending just the right way for just the right show.
Words by:Matthew Anderson
Photo by: Maira Bittencourt
Behind an unassuming tattoo parlor in the Bronx, a meeting of legends took place. They were there to pay their respects to the master of the graffiti world, Iz the Wiz. The setting was perfect. It looked like a block party with Jimi Hendrix blaring and 40s in hands. Walls covered in vibrant colors, depicting everything from straight tags to women showing off their “assets.” A subway train was taken apart and propped up against the wall. These were to be Iz’s canvases. But the scene was more about a reunion of players in the game than just a glorification of one man.
There were artists there who defined the movement during their respective decades starting from the ’70s to the present. Everyone there had their own story. Every person carried a piece of history with them and they were there to share it with each other. Each artist carried around a black book that they were passing around to others, having them sign their signature tags. Each signature was s sign of respect. There was one kid from Connecticut who came to see his idols. A grin never left his face as he passed his book to each one, gaining more and more signatures, and gathering more bits of history.
Although it was a friendly environment, many of the artists could point to someone who covered up one of their pieces, and little bits of animosity were still present. There are rules to the game. If artists tag their name, another one can come along and add to it, but covering it is a whole other story.
If you asked any person what has changed about the game, they would say the rules and regulations. One artist talked about how back in the ’80s he was caught for tagging and he was slapped with a fine of $58.42. Today it’s considered a felony.
With every underground movement there is a stigma, and it would be easy to classify these artists as delinquents. One of the artists, who goes 
by CES, was contacted by detectives to decipher tags by gangs, but for him it was almost offensive because his art is not gang affiliated.
Iz was rather illusive during his time at the parlor. In the beginning, he sat for autographs, but the Wiz is getting older and is much weaker than he once was, and became tired shortly after. He is a sick man, and some say it’s from the lead that surrounded him from his days of painting. Many of the old timers said they felt the effects of their years underground too. But the movement is out in the open with many artists now wearing masks for protection. Walls are commissioned for art; some men travel the world spray painting for crowds.
Although many of the spray painters lament that they miss the thrill of sneaking around at night, and waking up in the morning to see their work on the subway trains of New York. If you asked anybody they would tell you that Iz covered the most territory out of anyone they knew. Iz put in the work, and he earned his respect with each train he covered. And that day behind the tattoo parlor Iz brought together a community of artists, and proved that graffiti art can produce a family.
Words by Jenna Browning
Photos by Michael Ormond
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