As with most good things, the vast majority of good things, it started with a violin. The last time we’d caught Andrew Bird was ages ago, at a Newport Folk Festival. So yes, it’s been a while. While our memory of him had somewhat diminished, distorted, become part and parcel of some of our “musician stories” – musician anecdote #134, specifically – those initial memories of Mr. Bird had been fairly fond. “Fairly fond,” you say? Initially. But we were wrong. Horribly wrong. Because, as with almost all good things, it started with a violin. Andrew Bird is a musician more talented than we’d initiallyRead More →

(L to R, c Julia Markowitz: Tim Kim, Tim Wilson, Pete Wilson, Ryan Carbary) They’re not just blindly and uplifting, nor depressing and goth, and sport a mean maraca. Leading with “I Was Born to Love Her” off their latest EP, Fathers Be Kind, acoustic quartet Ivan and Alyosha settled into the somewhat compact stage at Great Scott in Allston. Intimate, though tight, the venue proved ideal for harmonies, handclapping, and hushed melodies; also ideal for trying out a handful of new songs on the crowd. While we don’t have a recording – and you’re certainly going to have to wait until their debut LPRead More →

One of our favorite (relative) unknowns, Austin, Texans White Denim took the part of first opener to Manchester Orchestra. The rock quartet – that’s how you know they’re tough to describe, basically ‘rock’ must suffice – pounded out a graceful act, starting in on “Street of Joy,” with vocalist James Petralli pulling from the mic, filling the air with the color in his voice. (Check out that awesome blur effect in the pic c/o Matt Lacorazza; L to R – Austin Jenkins, Josh Block, Steve Terebecki, James Petralli) The foursome cut a clean, gorgeous performance on this one, and drummer Josh Block enjoyed the heckRead More →

A long-haired brunette came on stage, dressed in a black, short-sleeved shirt, black tights. The stage lights accented her high cheekbones, cut softly, feminine yet harsh. A crowd of St. Vincent fans, ranging in their early 20s to 30s, seemed intent on the headliner, whose distinctive angular songcraft and wild rockstar attitude would  woo the crowd already desperate for her. But Le Bon, a relative unknown to the Boston crowd (already they were chatting, perhaps wondering who this woman was; when was Annie Clark’s act to come on?) strummed the first few notes on her wood-grained electric guitar, strange, out-of-place notes except for their distinctRead More →