Jeffrey Lewis

w/ The Cribs, Ra Ra Riot

Monday, March 17 @ 40 Watt Club

originally published March 12, 2008

Although he’s operated steadily via the “anti-folk” underground for over 10 years, New York's Jeffrey Lewis has seen his profile increase exponentially since his most recent release. Hitting shelves last October was Lewis’ new album 12 Crass Songs, his fourth for legendary U.K. label Rough Trade, and 18th overall, on which he covers a dozen songs written and recorded by the band that still serves as the blueprint for anarcho-punks worldwide: Crass. It’s very much the case of the profile lifting via association. It is, however, an association that comes naturally through a shared value system.

12 Crass Songs, for all its faults, is a surprisingly strong album. For a project that initially seemed as if it would merely be simplistic, acoustic covers of revered favorites, it’s completely sincere. Surprising, also, is how well so much of the Crass catalog was able to translate into touching acoustic numbers. The best example of this is the Lewis’ take on “End Result,” which opens the album. Whereas Crass barked the song out as a clear negation of consumer and government culture, Lewis’ bell-like guitar and nearly whispered vocals turn it into a brooding, existential crisis.

That Lewis would undertake a project of covers while his own compositions were finally getting quite a bit of attention, which was the case with his 2005 album, City & Eastern Songs, is certainly no small curiosity. As Lewis explained, though, to interactive zine Drowned in Sound, it was both a challenge and a joy. Indeed, Lewis saw the songs more as humanistic poems than political diatribes. Committed only ever to his own personal challenge of keeping things interesting, he invokes Lou Reed: “He said that if you tell your audience early on that you’re into doing different stuff, then you’re free for the rest of your life to do whatever you wanna do,” Lewis says, “and you’ve built an audience that appreciates you for that."

Gordon Lamb

Brutal Knights

w/ American Cheeseburger

Monday, March 17 @ Go Bar

originally published March 12, 2008

Toronto punk is really hot, eh? While Montreal has attracted attention for its literate indie-pop scene, Toronto has fans and labels on both sides of the border beating their heads against the wall with its reinterpretation of, and homage to, early-'80s punk and hardcore. Bands like Career Suicide, Fucked Up and Violent Minds have all drawn attention from punks, label proprietors and press, aping everyone from Poison Idea to Minor Threat.

One contemporary, Brutal Knights, ventures into the Deep South to lay waste to the Go Bar stage. These Knights send a party-fueled toast to the Los Angeles bands of yesteryear with lyrics smothered in GG Allin-isms like “I Wanna Die,” “Not Fun” and “Grow Up, Throw Up.”

Before arriving in Athens, Brutal Knights make a stop at the South by Southwest festival in Austin, TX. But don't look to them for guidance on whom to check out at the festival. “We'll see what we see,” says singer Nick Flanagan. “There are so many shows that we'll probably all split up and go on separate adventures that give us hemorrhoids and sunburns.”

This isn't Brutal Knights' first time in Athens, nor is it the group's first show with local wrecking crew American Cheeseburger. “Those guys rule. They mentor us. We mentor them,” says Flanagan. “We had the best time last time, and I hope to crowd surf for nine songs straight this time, instead of the measly six we did last time.”

This show may also include more than just music, as aspiring stand-up comedian Flanagan will likely pepper the Knights' set with caustic, blue humor. “Say the word," says Flanagan, "and I will light up your stages and your doobies.”

Scott Reid

Tin Cup Prophette

Monday, March 17 @ Flicker Theatre & Bar

originally published March 12, 2008

Though most of the attention focused on Tin Cup Prophette, the musical project of local songwriter Amanda Kapousouz, comes due to her own ethereal, dramatic tunes, Kapousouz at times plays shows where she spins through a repertoire of traditional Irish folk and American bluegrass numbers. That’s the case this week, with what’s become an annual tradition around St. Patrick’s Day.

Tin Cup Prophette’s tunes generally rely on a lot of sampling and looping of vocals and violin lines, but for these traditional shows, Kapousouz cuts back on the workload. “It’ll be a lot more comfortable, that’s for sure,” says Kapousouz, “and a lot easier, because there’s not so much technology happening. It’ll be about as rootsy as possible.” The comfort she mentions is in reference to the birth of her son Basil last month. Due to her pregnancy, Kapousouz took most of the past six months off, save for a celebratory 40 Watt gig (while eight-months pregnant) where she had to sport her guitar side-slung, and members of the audience all seemed to lean forward on their chairs a little whenever Kapousouz did anything even slightly strenuous.

Guitarist Jesse Flavin and percussionist Jeremy Wheatley provide tonight’s accompaniment, as they have for Tin Cup Prophette’s past Irish music shows, and local songwriter Bain Mattox - Kapousouz’s husband - will likely sit in on a few numbers. “Basil will be there, too,” says Kapousouz. “We’ll probably have to smuggle him in in a sling. That’ll be Bain’s challenge.”

Tin Cup Prophette plays this show as part of a Flicker residency that Venice is Sinking has set up; Venice is playing every Wednesday in March and April at the bar/venue, and generally taking the opening slot itself; with Kapousouz’s new baby on the scene, however, she may open this show to get home earlier. For more on the Venice is Sinking residency, see next week’s Flagpole for a feature article.

Chris Hassiotis

The Vulpines

w/ Late Night Picture Show, Batata Doce

Tuesday, March 18 @ Tasty World

originally published March 12, 2008

The guys in new Athens band The Vulpines advertise themselves in a manner that has become fairly innocuous of late - safe as some plain white milk. They assert, web-wise, that they are a “psychedelic folk” band, which, these days, is a decidedly in-bounds brand if you’re looking to attract a crowd of fresh-faced beer drinkers. "Freak folk" is the new "college rock," and anything ostensibly related to that disingenuously titled subgenre (Vetiver sounds like late-era Paul Simon; Vashti Bunyan is a housemother.) is gonna guarantee some interest in a musically inquisitive community like this one.

But in the case of The Vulpines, the psychedelic folk tag just doesn't apply. Yeah, they’ve got the occasional undulating acoustic seventh-chord spinning a jam here and there, and sometimes they get vaguely euphonic down low on the volume knobs, but what these young dudes really have going for them is some snarly guitar riffage, a minimalist approach to the drum-kit and a baritone lead singer who's more than a little stuck on The Lizard King. In other words: good news, everybody; they sound like The Cult! They’ve even got a fancy logo based directly on the iconic hood ornament of an über-phallic all-American muscle car. That’s Hamburger City, y’all.

So, here’s to hoping these cats go whole hog with it, come bursting out of the garage shirtless and raging with dubious bulges in their jeans, and their amps up loud. If these boys deliver on the promise made by their organically developed approach to butt-rock, Athens will have some fine carousing music for a good while to come. Say it loud!

Jim McHugh