March 27, 2009 - The Austin Chronicle

PJ HARVEY &JOHN PARISHStubb’s, March 21Predictably, Saturday’s mellow 45-minute set only featured songs PJ Harvey and longtimecreative partner John Parish have written together for 1996’s Dance Hall at LousePoint and their new collaboration, A Woman a Man Walked By. Still, it was a thrill to seeHarvey come alive in a white strapless gown with straitjacket belts and a peacocklike hairaccessory, which made her look like a virgin mermaid from a Dalí painting. Against hersurreal figure center stage, set and new album opener “Black Hearted Love” was rathersubdued; on “Sixteen, Fifteen, Fourteen,” Harvey let it rip, prophesying like the secondcoming of Patti Smith, though it felt like she was deliberately trying to keep things calmand restrained, giving the set a sort of speakeasy trot. She played percussion here andthere, gently shaking her hips, but Parish and the backing band held down the instrumentation,and the spotlight fell on her voice, which still sounds crystalline. The 21st centuryhas seen lukewarm albums from Harvey, 2007’s White Chalk exorcizing the sounds fromher haunted house. A Woman’s not the best representation of Harvey’s talents, and live,the more vitriolic tracks, such as closer “Pig Will Not,” felt spiritual rather than sexual. Inthat gown, she looked like she was channeling something higher. – Audra SchroederTHE STRANGE BOYSBeauty Bar Backyard, March 21You know it’s a great show when a Southby Southwest showcase by an Austin band ischock-full of locals. The garage rock of Austinpride the Strange Boys isn’t some derivationof the past. It’s original and genuine. EveryouthfulRyan Sambol led his Boys – brotherPhilip on bass, guitarist Greg Enlow, and kitmaster Matt Hammer – through new debutLP triumph And Girls Club, calling out theset list as the mood fit. Beginning a bit lowenergy, the Boys slowly built speed, and whenSambol’s guitar strap escaped his frame, itwas no cause for pause. “I don’t want to singright now,” Sambol called back to his bandmatesbefore launching into an instrumentalduo completely at home in 1963. His boogietwitch ruled And Girls Club opener “Woe IsYou and Me” and a dozen other nuggets.There’s something both innocent and dirtyabout the Strange Boys, and with his cuffedjeans and bounce, Sambol’s effect was perfectlydescribed by one onlooker: “I wannamake him a sandwich!” – Darcie StevensSILVERSUN PICKUPSAntone’s, March 21This wasn’t Silversun Pickups’ night. Thecapacity crowd at Antone’s grew increasinglyimpatient as a couple of the group’s earnestroadies sound-checked endlessly. Then wewaited. And waited. Finally, the L.A. quartetemerged onstage, beatific grins on themembers’ faces, before ripping into “WellAUBREY EDWARDSTODD V. WOLFSONThought Out Twinkles” from their 2006 debut,Carnavas. Singer Brian Aubert gushed abouthow mind-blowing SXSW is and thanked theaudience for coming to see them, especiallygiven the magnitude of choices across thecity. This led to a horrible false start for thenext song, which disintegrated a few bars in.Aubert laughed it off: “That sounded awful!Did you hear that? Do you know who that was?Me!” A few other technical difficulties ensued,causing further delay, but the Pickups weatheredit with good humor, clearly thrilled to beplaying right at that moment, even though theset devolved into sameness. “We’ve got a newrecord coming out soon,” Aubert said by wayof good night. “This song is not on it.” Andso it was that “Lazy Eye” closed the door onanother SXSW.– Melanie HauptJUSTIN TOWNES EARLERed Eyed Fly, March 21Justin Townes Earle tried to start his setwith “They Killed John Henry” but forgot thewords and gave up. It was the last misstep ofthe evening. Earle’s a natural performer, andaccompanied only by banjo and mandolin fromCory Younts, he offered effortlessly perfectrenditions of his own songs, country standardsfrom Woody Guthrie and the Carter Family, andthe Replacements’ “Can’t Hardly Wait.” Thecrowd even coaxed an encore from him, Earleobliging with standard “Hesitation Blues” andcovering both the rhythm and solo at the sametime. A tall man, Earle positions the microphoneso that he has to hunch over to sing.Coupled with his extremely thin frame and tradition-mindedaesthetic choices, this gives himthe air of a bent but spry old man. The cornersof Earle’s mouth pull up naturally, so he wearssomething between a grin and a smirk; evenon “Walk Out,” his scowl fades after only oneverse. He mugs and bows relentlessly, and it’stempting to wonder if he’s actually that happyor it’s all just an act. Whatever the case,Earle’s impossibly beautiful vocals on “Mama’sEyes” brought the audience to ecstasy. Youcan’t argue with results. – Daniel MeeTHE WOODEN BIRDSThe Parish, March 21Turning repeatedly to his band betweensongs, Andrew Kenny offered soft encouragement– “That was pretty good guys” – as ifsurprised at the tightness of the mellow soundrolling behind him. There was little surprisingabout the Wooden Birds, however, as thequintet couched comfortably familiar in Kenny’sgentle voice and heavy-lidded, narcotic rhythms.While the recently returned Austinite’s newproject recalls his American Analog Set, even tothe point of delivering AAS’ “Aaron and Maria,”AUBREY EDWARDSand at times shaded his recent support of OlaPodrida on songs like “Never Know,” Kenny’ssongwriting remains mesmerizing and cut witha twisted sense of nostalgia. There is tenuousbalance between the Wooden Birds’ lullingpull and the songs’ lyrical push of disillusion,the traps of memory stretched across opener“Sugar” and the odd skew on love of “SevenSeventeen,” the band’s melodic somnambulisminvoking dreamscapes of reflective disappointmentand possibilities. The female harmonieson “The Other One” and the somewhat heavier“Anna Paula” added an echoing depth toKenny’s languid delivery, while the low guitarchime of “Believe in Love” rippled through theroom. Finishing the set with the closer fromupcoming debut Magnolia, “Bad,” left theimprint of its calm repeated chorus cauterizedinto the night’s restless regrets. While theWooden Birds revisit familiar terrain, Kenny’sreturns are always stunningly fraught with anuncanny recoil of memory. – Doug FreemanCONTINUED ON P.60JIMMY WEBB & THE WEBB BROTHERSPrague, Saturday 21Jimmy Webb has been in the biz since the mid-1960s.During that time, the 62-year-old has penned a handfulof platinum-selling hits. He also had six kids, three ofwhom put together the literally named Webb Brothers, yetSaturday night was the first time he had shared the stagewith his sons to play live. Ever. For the sheer improbabilityof the moment, the rest of the setting wasn’t really upto moment. The sound in the cellar venue was less thanstellar, and the longish sound check made for a remarkablyshort set. Rather than mar the showcase, however,it just made it seem that much more like the packedhouse was privy to a unique rehearsal. Plus, the hallmarkof something so undeniably cool is that it’s hard to ruin.Watching Webb swap vocals with his sons on “Galveston”was a genuine treat, and it only got better watching himtake the full turn doing “Wichita Lineman.” The Webbshave been recording together, so while “Adios” might haveseemed like a natural closer, the family needs an “Hola,”as it’s more apropos moving forward. – Michael Bertina u s t i n c h r o n i c l e . c o m MARCH 27, 2009 T H E A U S T I N C H R O N I C L E 59