Iron and Wine Concert at the Riviera--Friday, March 4th

This morning, I'm coming off a concert high from last night at the Riviera. We started out our evening listening to Eleventh Dream Day, a four piece band that opened for the highly anticipated sold out Iron and Wine show. To be completely honest, I was not thrilled or impressed by Eleventh Dream Day and having them open seemed a bit inappropriate to the genre that was headlining. Eleventh Dream Day was clearly a rock band, with a much harsher sound than Sam Beam and his 8 piece folk-rock band, even with Beam's new sonic sounds. The mix of sound itself was poor, with the guitar and bass over amplified and the backing vocals, done by the female drummer, not loud enough. The band, native to Chicago and on Thrill Jockey records, has been playing since 1987, and it certainly showed from their early 90'sskirting-on-punk-rock style. I wasn't the biggest fan, to be completely honest and I didn't get the impression that the rest of the crowd was really digging it either. Lyrically, from what I could hear there was not a whole lot of profound thought in the writing, but it would have helped if I could have heard the vocals. Maybe I will have to give their music a second listen to see if they sound different and my opinion changes with polished tracks here on their myspace.

When Sam Beam came out with his full band, after being prefaced by an XRT representative, the audience was incredibly pumped for the live show in store. It's pretty rare that Iron and Wine is seen live and the show was completely sold-out, love and fandom abounding. Beam started with an apology: sadly he had lost his voice recently and was going to be lacking his normal vocal ability. He playfully did a Barry White impersonation and explained after a few songs that he was having his band play songs in lower keys for the night. His voice was still captivating, despite its gravelly sadness at the top, and he was able to push through to sing falsetto on "Walking Far from Home", the opening track off his new album Kiss Each Other Clean".

I was delighted with the mix of old and new songs that Beam pulled out from his repertoire, often presenting what seemed like covers of his own older songs, retrofitted to sound amazing with an 8-piece band. Playing along with Beam were two percussionists, two backing vocalists, a keyboard, a bassist, and a saxophone (sometimes flute). "Cinders and Smoke", for example, was given a groovy, almost mambo feel that contrasted greatly from its folk sparsity on Our Endless Numbered Days. Ending the set with "Your Fake Name is Good Enough for Me", was the ultimate jam and I only wish we could have heard his full vocals along with the instrumental. Nonetheless, this new full-band format for Beam was fortunate on a night where his voice was not feeling strong. I'd say the band jammed for at least 10 minutes on the "Become the rising sun, we will become become..." section of the song to end their set to roaring applause from atop and Beneath the Balcony (yes, I just made a Sea and the Rhythm pun).

Did Beam play all of my favorites? No. Was the same folky essence from Our Endless Numbered Days still intact? No. Was I perfectly okay with it for this full-scale, sold out show? Of Course! And to live up to his magic, Beam kicked in an encore, where he played "Naked As We Came", which brought me close to tears as I reminisced about my High School years when that song first came out and chilled me to the bone.

I look forward to seeing him in concert again next time he comes around---solo or with a band, the man has a beautiful soul that makes beautiful music even with a lost voice.

Peace.Love.Music

Kara Ali

The Joys of Joni, and some long overdue updates.

Hey Everyone!!

So, as you've noticed, I haven't posted since Valentines Day! No, I didn't get sick for weeks from leftover chocolates, and no, I wasn't sobbing for lack of a Valentine to share said candies with. I was, however, on set for two student films here at NU in back to back weekends: Under Water, directed by my good friend Rosalie Sangenitto as a senior project, and The Ballad of Barbara Allen, an ingenious screenplay written by my friend Ursula Ellis and based off of the old folk song. Both were incredibly exciting to record sound for (because what else would me and my headphones be doing on a film set?) and I can't wait until the next stages of production begin.

Getting through the long film hours was made possible in part by Radiohead's new album, King of Limbs, which I gave repeated listens to since my last post and have come to appreciate for its brevity, experimentation and lulling resolve at the end of long days on set.

Despite my excitement over the new album while shooting, I have been filling my post-set recovery week with Joni--yes, Joni Mitchell, the one and only Canadian folk rock singer/songwriter that could bring my mother (and grandmother) to tears

with wonders like "The Circle Game", "River" and, of course the frequently covered "Both Sides, Now". Most everyone recognizes the iconic wash of color over Joni's face on the artwork for the 1971 album, Blue. As a young singer/songwriter of the early 2000s, Joni is still among the biggest influences in my music. The earnestness in her open tuning, airy and warm vocals and even her pale, almost spectral appearance in photos and recordings from the 1960s allow her melancholy harmonies to echo through time as I look for inspiration. I wouldn't even say that she has the best voice but the honesty and full emotion of every melancholy lyric is heard perfectly. Her lyrics are obscure and restrained, hiding their weight behind beautiful poetry so that even when she talks about dark and complex topics, she retains an incomparable innocence.

For a long while, Court and Spark has been my favorite album of hers from the days of her jazz experimentation with the title track and "Car on a Hill" among my favorite tracks. Recently, however, I listened to Clouds through from beginning to end. Clouds was Joni's 2nd studio album released in 1969. The album contains "Chelsea Morning" and "Both Sides, Now", both of which had already been covered by Judy Collins and had generated signficant buzz this way before being released by her. Listening to the album from start to finish, I can clearly see how Clouds is a stripped down precursor somewhat to Ladies of the Canyon, and very much to Blue. The Fiddle and the Drum is the rawest example of Joni's earnest songwriting with its single a cappella line of vocals, ending the album with little resolve. There is not much attention to production quality, and there might even be a plosive or two that the microphone picked up subtly. After the two harmonizing voices of Songs to Aging Children Come and luscious descending melodies, the final song is puzzling and beautiful.

I am sure there will be more on Joni to come. For now, I'm off to see Iron and Wine at the Riviera downtown--can never get enough folk.

Peace.Love.Music.

Kara Ali