North Central College’s barely-3-year-old venue simply named the Recreation Center/Residence Hall (picture a really big high-school gym) hosted its first concert ever on Sunday night, when San Diego’s Switchfoot came to Naperville. The 90-minute setlist was curiously devoid of any songs from the band’s first three albums, and instead included tracks from their last five releases, most of them off the quintet’s breakout The Beautiful Letdown and 2011’s Vice Verses.

Frontman Jon Foreman, with his brother/bassist/co-vocalist Tim at his side, once again proved that very little manipulation is done with this band in the studio, especially vocally. The Foremans are still able to confidently nail everything from the raucuous anthems to the tender ballads, all in their signature raspy style. Jon was also very comfortable relating to the college-and-younger crowd, finding the right balance of helping them feel like he truly engaged them, without every getting preachy or long-winded. At one point he did more than interact verbally with the audience, as he ventured deep into the crowd, almost to the back row, just walking on chairs and giving high-fives — all the while belting the chorus to the recent hit “Restless” (“I am restless; I’m searching for you”).

Switchfoot started in 1997 as an outright “Christian rock” act, signing with a Christian label. By their fourth release, a major-label deal with Columbia struck crossover success via a number of Top-40 hits. They strive for this crossover success to retain a positive, spiritual vibe, and this came through at the show. Foreman introduced nearly every song as being meant to offer an inspiring message (from “Your Love Is A Song” to “Meant To Live” to “Dare You To Move” to “Afterlife”). And the three small video screens weren’t used to show anything too edgy, but provided a strong-yet-simple support for the live music in the smaller venue.

The band’s biggest mistake may have been in choosing a too many ballads, and never attempting more than two upbeat rockers in a row and preventing the crowd from fully letting loose. One of Switchfoot’s biggest hits, “The Sound” (featured in various NFL commercials, etc.) was the perfect choice for the closer, and did lead to both the band and the audience showing some serious energy — of which there could have been more.

– Carter Moss

So many incarnations of The Beach Boys have hit the road over the years, that it’s often tricky to keep track of who’s in the band. But considering 2012 marks the 50th anniversary of summer’s supreme act, surviving co-founders Brian Wilson, Mike Love, and Al Jardine, alongside veterans Bruce Johnston and David Marks, traded acrimony for harmony long enough to hit the studio and launch a world tour.

The June 5th release of That’s Why God Made The Radio (Capitol) marks the band’s first album of entirely original material since 1992, and given the wealth of material from both yesterday and today, it was no surprise the group delivered a generous, more than 40-song set during the first of two packed Chicago Theatre shows. In addition of all the major hits, the Boys (now well into manhood in their 60s and 70s) also dusted off several deeper album cuts and a new tune, truly honoring the tour’s anniversary premise.

“Do It Again” served as a fitting start, not only because of the night’s reunion nature, but also due to harmony-heavy pleasantries that found the five sounding not entirely perfect, but still generally spry. Of course, having a younger 10-piece band do some of the heavier instrumental lifting and supplement the higher notes didn’t hurt, but the elders had no trouble keeping up with the spunk of “Surfin’ Safari” or nailing the gentle sweetness of “Surfer Girl.”

As has been the group’s tradition, Love took many of the leads, sounding especially confident throughout the carefree “When I Grow Up (To Be A Man),” “Be True To Your School,” and “Little Deuce Coupe,” though he also shared the spotlight with his cousin Wilson on a handful of occasions. The former St. Charles resident may have looked sheepish, if not entirely oblivious, behind his piano (and like a scene from Weekend At Bernie’s on the bass during the encore), but sounded vocally capable throughout the ambitious Pet Sounds suite “Sloop John B,” that same album’s bittersweet ballad “I Just Wasn’t Made For These Times,” and the Smile-bred “Heroes And Villains.”

Outside of his nimble guitar duties, Jardine jovially crooned his way through “Help Me, Rhonda,” while Johnston also packed plenty of vocal chops, despite detouring with “Disney Girls” (second only in corny comparison to “Kokomo”). Even dearly departed members Dennis and Carl Wilson popped up on video screens to deliver their previously recorded parts of “Forever” and “God Only Knows,” respectively, as the present players added their signature backing vocals.

The new but simultaneously nostalgic-sounding single “That’s Why God Made The Radio” also made it apparent The Beach Boys still have a knack for crafting melodic masterpieces reminiscent of Pet Sounds‘ pop sensibility crossed with the regarded (albeit less successful) Sunflower’s tedious craftsmanship. As the night reached its apex, the highlight reel of oldies but goodies like “Good Vibrations,” “California Girls,” “Do You Wanna Dance?,” and “Fun, Fun Fun” sounded just as sweet as ever, which, coupled with the earlier favorites and rarities, made for an exhaustively comprehensive celebration of America’s ultimate band.

– Andy Argyrakis

Sic The Polyphonic Spree on those rambunctious NATO protestors and the need for a mile-long line of police officers outfitted in riot gear would disappear. One look at Tim DeLaughter and his band of merry pranksters would either send the chanting mass exercising their First Amendment rights running off in fear or persuade them to join the feel-good circus.

Blame it on the collective’s cult-like uniforms (on this go-around, the mini orchestra sports white floor-length robes emblazoned with cut-out hearts like a second-grader’s Valentine’s Day project) or their ebullient performance style. Whether encountering the rotating lineup in the street or within the intimate quarters of a concert venue, DeLaughter’s crew casts a spell difficult to shake.

After three albums, one long hiatus, and an abridged lineup, the magic doesn’t spring forth with the white-hot intensity of past outings in the early ’00s, but still wields a mighty power. For once, breathing room wasn’t in short supply with only 14 noise-makers on stage at Park West. The mishmash of instruments remained intact (punk-rock cellist, church bell-hammering percussionists, brass line three-men deep), yet the incredible shrinking all-girl chorus proved the most significant change in both sight and sound. The unified singing and hair whipping used to dwarf DeLaughter’s son-of-a-preacher-man stance. Now, the ladies stand in back, and try to rise above the din.

Not that the Spree wasn’t always DeLaughter’s show. He’s ever the mad scientist at the helm, transforming a jaded club into a revivalman’s tent. He fidgets. He twirls. He weaves through the band like a wayward stream of smoke. He juts out his arms like a demented conductor. And yet, he somehow manages to squeeze in a few bars of kaleidoscopic lyrics and wills them a deeper meaning. Every action is thought out — from opening the set behind a scarlet sheet to revealing the group a few inches at a time by cutting out an ever-expanding heart-shaped hole, to closing with “The Championship” and methodically commanding each member’s exit with a tap on the shoulder. The exercise gave a backwards lesson on sound layering, and a tutorial on how to execute an unforgettable finish.

The Spree parties with the conviction of a roving Hare Krishna sect, and the commercialism of mass-marketed holidays. It brought a little New Year’s Eve flair to this 90-minute jaunt by deploying confetti cannons on three separate occasions. A cover of The Who’s “Pinball Wizard” fit squarely within the band’s psychedelic bent, while a new tune, “What Would You Do?,” shunned fragmented thought in exchange for burning questions to a pogoing beat.

– Janine Schaults

When Eric Church, sporting his trademark sunglasses finally evolved onto the stage at 9:32 on Friday night, engoulphed in a thick cloud of smoke, there was a feeling of the unknown.

Today’s big arena concerts are packed with video screens, flashy stages, and lots of razzle dazzle. Church is an old-school beer-keg-on-the-stage, smoke, some flashing lights, and fireworks kind of guy. With his liquid friend Jack Daniel’s (in the red Solo cup) hanging close by on the mic stand (94 proof, single barrel, and custom labeled for him), he proceeded to crank through 21 songs taking the packed Sears Centre crowd on a well-scripted musical rollercoaster.

He ripped through six songs before getting back to the theme of the night with “I’m Gettin’ Stoned,” and then “Jack Daniel’s” declaring “Tonight I’m drinking Jack Daniel’s/and don’t give a shit.” He’s an emotional, passion-filled singer who is relatable with his jumping around, fist-pumping, and chest-pounding to make his points. (No choreographed dance moves here.)

He stripped it down for a three-song acoustic set banging out “Two Pink Lines,” “Sinners Like Me,” and “Love Your Love The Most.” With the band back on stage and rested, he went right into chart topper “Drink In My Hand” and begged the crowd to “Give me everything you got!” He finished the main event with “Homeboy,” signed his bottle of JD for a fan, and left the same way he entered.

All this was, of course a tease for The Encore. Church has the summer anthem that has not only topped the country charts but is climbing the Rolling Stone Top 40, too. Before the much anticipated “Springsteen,” he led with “Smoke A Little Smoke” and “These Boots.” With his guitar slung over his shoulder, he pounded the ivories in an ode to The Boss, and his iconic Born In The USA album.” “This is where melodies and memories connect,” he said, telling a story about a girl who’s name can can’t remember but thinks of her every time he hears that (track one, side one) song. There were only a few lighters in the house, but the illuminated cell phones rocking back and forth should be made into his next video. Almost as if he didn’t want to leave, it turned into an eight-minute sing-along that put the finishing touch on a entertaining night.

Hard-pounding rednecks Blackberry Smoke provided some background for getting that first beer and concert T-shirt bought. Brantley Gilbert revved-up the late-arriving crowd with an eight-song set that included his hits “County Must Be Country Wide” and “You Don’t Know Her Like I Do.” He may not be this year’s headliner, but with a few more songs and his deep crooners voice, he may be in Church’s spot next.

– Brian Ormiston

Shortly after the Kaiser Chiefs opened their concert at House of Blues last Thursday, vocalist Ricky Wilson offered a cheeky introduction for the first single from the band’s latest release by declaring, “It’s new, it’s brilliant, and it’s called ‘On The Run.’” The capacity crowd readily embraced the melodic satire from Start The Revolution Without Me, and everything else the band played in a rousing 90-minute set. Kaiser Chiefs may not be as highly regarded in the States as they are in their native England, but they do have an avid following in Chicago.

“Guys, guys, guys, settle down!” Wilson teased as the audience continuously clapped and sang along. The performance had the feel of partying in an English pub, although, definitely amplified. Despite having five successful and critically acclaimed CDs under their belts, the musicians exuded a youthful intensity. Wilson and drummer Nick Hodgson, who added spirited backup vocals, were particularly active in engaging the crowd. Keyboardist Nick “Peanut” Baines, sporting a fedora with blinking lights, gave songs like “Good Days Bad Days” and “Everyday I Love You Less And Less” an infectious new-wave energy.

Much of the appeal of catchy songs like “I Predict A Riot” and “The Angry Mob” is the way the lyrics could serve as slogans at a political rally. Wilson brought them to life, pumping his fist, or dodging and weaving like a prize fighter. At one point, he left the stage for a new vantage point on top of the bar. After revving the audience with a barrage of fast tunes like “Kinda Girl You Are” and the earlier hit single, “Ruby,” it was surprising that Kaiser Chiefs finished on a more sedate note with “Love’s Not A Competition (But I’m Winning).” But the audience didn’t seem to mind. After a pair of well-received encores, Wilson thanked the crowd and tossed aside his mic. Those familiar with Kaiser Chiefs no doubt left satisfied, while it’s safe to predict newcomers to the band’s joyous riot performance style would want to go out and stock up on Kaiser Chiefs LPs.

Opening act Empires muscled their way through a 35-minute set that blended hard rock with elements of grunge. The Chicago/New York-based band performed songs from its most current CD, Garage Hymns, as well as the upcoming EP, Can’t Steal Your Heart Away. The title track of that EP, and other hard-hitting songs, were delivered via thundering drums, shimmering guitars, and a charismatic vocalist Sean Van Vleet, who could howl as well as work in a more soulful vein.

– Terrence Flamm

What originally started as an under-the-radar webcast in 2007, has since evolved into an MTV Award-winning syndicated TV show and subsequent seven-city tour. Enter “Live From Daryl’s House,” the seemingly out-of-the-blue reinvention by Daryl Hall from strictly singer for blue-eyed soul mainstays Hall & Oates to a multi-media guru with hipster-friendly leanings. Need proof? Thus far the program’s boasted everyone from legends like Smokey Robinson, Todd Rundgren, Booker T & The M.G.’s, and Nick Lowe to Grace Potter & The Nocturnals, Fitz & The Tantrums, Neon Trees, and Mayer Hawthorne.

That multi-generational appeal continued on the road during a collaborative evening between the headliner, Sharon Jones (of The Dap-Kings fame), newcomer Allen Stone, and a video-screen cooking lesson from cheesesteak chef Tony Luke. Granted that last virtual guest would’ve faired much better had the audience been in Hall’s actual house, but considering the Chicago stop was switched from the sizeable Auditorium Theatre to the smaller Vic, the night managed to evoke intimacy nonetheless.
 
Those who showed up to only hear the Hall & Oates hits didn’t get very many (another chance comes during the duo’s Ravinia September 1st stop), but the show certainly lived up to its “Nu-Soul Revue” subtitle. Considering Hall is one of the best blue-eyed soul singers in the game, crossed with Jones’ smoldering R&B abilities, and Stone’s pitch-perfect retro revivalism, there was plenty to put concertgoers in a Philly-meets-Motor City state of mind.
 
Cuts from Hall’s new solo outing, Laughing Down Crying (Verve Forecast), fit snuggly into the format, including the horn-heavy “Save Me” and the jazzy “Eyes For You (Ain’t No Doubt About It).” From Jones’ songbook, “100 Days, 100 Nights” simmered sensually and “I Learned The Hard Way” exploded with classic blues riffs, while Stone shined across the self-penned smoker “Celebrate Tonight” and the Motown-like “Say So.”
 
As for those beloved H&O flashbacks, Hall showcased his singer/songwriter side on “Everytime You Go Away” and turned the dated studio productions of “I Can’t Go For That (No Can Do)” and “You Make My Dreams” into vivacious R&B arrangements. It’s a shame more people weren’t on hand to see it all transpire, which, besides being a rare chance to see the veteran in a club setting, also boasted a sumptuous creative detour that lent stock to his often underrated abilities.

– Andy Argyrakis

Gotye managed to jump from the Park West to the Aragon Ballroom without playing a single note in Chicago. This impressive leap probably irked the Belgian Aussie’s handful of devotees and those taking pride in unearthing the undiscovered gem. (Really, buying tickets for a chance to see someone in a pristine intimate space only to find out you’re stuck with an inferior sound system must burn.) However, the blame rests on the strength of a killer single that does the nearly impossible: finding a home on both WRXT and The Mix’s playlists.

“Somebody I Used To Know” is Wouter De Backer’s “Rolling In The Deep.” It seems a bit cheeky to suggest Gotye could ever hope to achieve the same level of success as Adele (his status as the redheaded stepchild of Sting and Peter Gabriel cuts him off at the knees), but reserve multiple spots on the Grammy nomination list for the tune. Instead of wearing thin after multiple listens, the prickly xylophone and echoing mix of resignation and pleading turn all within earshot into obsessive-compulsives. Guest-vocalist Kimbra’s feminine push-and-pull makes it all a bit mental, too.

Toward the end of a 45-minute set at the sold-out venue (Kimbra likened the Aragon’s cosmos to Mordor during her opening slot), Gotye plucked out the familiar first notes of the hit, alleviating all that pent-up tension that comes from waiting. He sputtered to a quick stop after flubbing the lyrics, blaming it on people watching. Whether or not that’s the case, he seemed a bit exasperated at having to play the tune for the umpteenth time. This is not the time to get distracted, especially with a sea of outstretched iPhones and cameras casting a sickly glow over the room. Anyone not armed with a recording device screamed the lyrics to invisible phantoms of paramours while Gotye and Kimbra acted out the scene on stage.

Gotye showcased his third record, Making Mirrors, with the help of a crackling four-piece band that evened out the album’s electronic leanings. Surrounded by a sonic fortress of machines and waist-high percussive hardware, he looked like the captain of a futuristic spacecraft. This nerve center produced the Motown-ready saxophone-in-a-box of “Learnalilgivinalovin” and distorted his tenor into a bass worthy of Barry White on the reggae-flavored “State Of The Art.” The deliberate graze of “Heart’s A Mess” bounced up against the boogie of “In Your Light,” which could easily share DNA with a selection out of the Fitz & The Tantrums playbook.

Considered the luckiest Kiwi around, Kimbra’s riding the wave of “Somebody I Used To Know.” Gotye didn’t exactly pluck her out of oblivion; she’s had her Warner Bros. debut, Vows, prepped and ready. Dressed in a red satin flamenco dress, the lusty-voiced singer offered up a quick preview of her nostalgia-heavy style. The tribal rhythms of “Settle Down” coupled with her Billie Holiday rat-a-tat scatting defied lyrics longing for a future spent saddled with kids and a hubby. Stripped of its vocals, “Samaritan” could fit comfortably in the Dave Matthews Band school of jam-heavy riffs. Kimbra dropped the demure aura of her “Somebody” performance (cemented by YouTube’s viral reach) and let loose, turning the song into a primal catcall.

– Janine Schaults

Listening to The Head And The Heart with anything other than that thumping, muscular organ whacking against your insides will only bring about feelings of dissatisfaction.

The logical brain can pick out the pattern shaping nearly every one of the Seattle sextet’s tunes: starts out on a slow burn of cooing harmonies and collects steam for a rousing crescendo, before exploding into an epic finish courtesy of drummer Tyler Williams (who could easily stand in for The Muppets’ Animal).

Murky lyrics that would never make it onto the Facebook profile of any serious quote fiend also make the noggin ache. Take “Rivers And Roads” for example. Put lines like “My family lives in a different state/and if you don’t know what to make of this/then we will not relate” to paper, and you’ve got the makings of a hastily written ninth-grade English paper.

Yet, put the voices of Josiah Johnson, Jonathan Russell, and Charity Rose Thielen together and love is blind.

The Head And The Heart turned the Vic Theatre into a garden party complete with shrubbery, paper lanterns, and twinkle lights for a sold-out, celebratory two-night stand on an unseasonably warm March evening.

Despite making its Chicago debut a little more than a year ago at Schubas, and spending the rest of 2011 popping into the city like a relative with frequent flier miles to burn, the band didn’t wear out its welcome over a 90-minute set; peppering the 16-song itinerary with a few new tunes helped. The compositions retain the hootenanny-meets-church revival spirit permeating the band’s sole album (although they adhere closely to the aforementioned pattern).

Russell, rocking the low-cut tanks favored by Freddie Mercury, played the part of the artiste and made minimal contact with the sweaty, fist-pumping throngs. Unless leading the jangling “Lost In My Mind” or taking the stage solo for a “sad bastard song,” he deferred to Johnson to serve as the night’s host. Johnson’s the mischievous kind who ensures all attendees are having a blast, but might go AWOL before the party’s over. Thielen looked and shouted at invisible specters with her woefully underused staccato yelps.

Openers Cory Chisel & The Wandering Sons invited ex-Smashing Pumpkins drummer Jimmy Chamberlin to the band’s shuffling barn dance. The surprise appearance couldn’t detract from Chisel’s mournfully exquisite push-and-pull with Adreil Harris’ impassioned drawl.

– Janine Schaults

From the moment Van Halen non-chalantly took the United Center stage, one of the most paradoxical shows in rock began. First comes the band — Alex Van Halen playing comfortably and business-like behind the drums, while Eddie and son Wolfgang, dressed in their button-down shirts and jeans, worked their guitar and bass, respectively, with straight-ahead no-nonsense brilliance.

Then enters Diamond Dave, wearing his countryman mic around his cheek (a la Britney Spears), donning a silver sparkling overcoat and bejeweled pants (a la Neil Diamond), and marching around twirling his cane (a la a ringmaster). The small, hardwood dancefloor installed at centerstage allowed David Lee Roth to slide back and forth and spin around, while a huge forced smile never left his face for the entire 110-minute show, no matter the mood of the song or the banter. It was the ultimate paradox — an honest, blue-collar rock-band being fronted by an over-the-top, pretentious showman.

Of course, part of this is just Roth plying his shtick, but it seemed pushed even farther than usual. In just the first 30 minutes of the show, Roth may have cemented his place as the ultimate male diva, as he proceeded to yell over his mic at his crew about anything he could find to complain about: demanding someone turn off the fans blowing onto stage because they were “messing with the vocals,” calling for bottled water, demanding duct tape for his mic as he threw it at the sound crew, and, at one point, even shoving away the roadie who was attempting to fix his wearable pack with a nasty “Get the fuck away from me!” The nearly sold-out crowd wasn’t sure how to react.

Musically, the band itself was nearly flawless. As the California rockers played through nearly all the hits of the Roth-era (except “Janie’s Cryin’,” which was surprisingly missing), and most of the “new” material off the recently released A Different Kind Of Truth, the Van Halen family delivered impressive veteran instrumental performances including 20-year-old Wolfgang, who had incredible stage presence, confidence, and skills. But Roth struggled vocally, singing so off-pitch on “Dance The Night Away” and the closing song “Jump,” that much of the crowd was seen cringing. He did pull it together enough to perform a solid rendition of “Ice Cream Man” that began with him solo on acoustic guitar, and fairly passionate versions of “Panama,” “Hot For Teacher,” and the band’s two most famous covers: “You Really Got Me” (which opened the show) and “Pretty Woman.”

Unfortunately, the band didn’t bother to bring a keyboardist on tour, so the songs that needed it (including “Jump”) had to be played to a backing track. Despite Roth’s rants and constant mic issues (he was forced to try to maneuver all-night with a long corded mic when his wireless went out early on), he did manage to maintain the attention of the crowd, who responded with little enthusiasm to the new material but the expected energy to the classics. Eddie’s eight-minute solo near the end of the show was mind-blowing as always, and worth the price of admission.

In one of the oddest opening-act choices of all time, Kool & The Gang didn’t let age slow them down. They brouogh old-school funk to a surprisingly large early crowd and predictably closed with “Celebration,” perhaps one of the greatest songs ever written to close a live performance and win over a crowd.

– Carter Moss

Like Linus who found his long lost blanket, Peter Frampton owned the Chicago Theatre Saturday night with his old pal and newly found 1954 Gibson Les Paul.

Back in 1980, the guitar was on a plane to Panama with other equipment when it crashed, supposedly destroying everything on board. It was a treasured gift he used in his Humble Pie days as well as the early years of his solo career. Lo and behold, it recently surfaced and was restored at the Gibson Custom Shop and put back into play for last weekend’s New York shows.

The show celebrates the 35th anniversary of his generational, six-times platinum Frampton Comes Alive. He may have lost his trademark long mane, gained a midsection paunch, and aged a bit in those years, but his chops and skills are still spot-on; a five-piece band, including original bassist Stanley Sheldon, complemented him well. Lead guitarist Adam Lester and Frampton dueled at centerstage on “(I’ll Give You) Money” as if they had played together for 30 years. If Frampton is hiding anything, Lester made it sound as if nothing has changed.

The only guy that worked harder on stage was the roadie responsible for switching out Frampton’s guitars after almost each song. He’s always been a little particular about his sound and constantly tinkers (even mid song), but this guy has a pressure-packed gig. For almost three hours, with only a short T-shirt-changing break, Frampton played the full album, some recent stuff (plugging his 2010 release Thank You Mr. Churchill) along with some of his Humble Pie favorites. Keeping track and tuning that trailer full of guitars, makes that roadie earn his pay.

Frampton has evolved into a storyteller. He interacted well with the audience bringing them into his world at times as if everyone was just hanging out. On “Feel Like I Do” and working his famous talkbox, he played and goofed around as if he just figured this thing out yesterday. With flashes of his youth on a video board behind him it was, at times watching a life unfold.

He is a rambling jam that seems to get off track at times, and may have been a bit much for some. It seems like the audience thinned out about 10:15, but they would have missed his encore of The Beatles’ “While My Guitar Gently Weeps.”

Frampton is a classic example of why you make your kids take guitar lessons and learn to play golf. Chicks dig one and you can do both when you get old and lose your hair.

– Brian Ormiston

Before it became an epithet and anyone outside of punk-rock circles knew what it was, The Promise Ring were highlighted in nascent Teen Vogue magazine as the access point to emo.

That was 14-years ago, and four before the Milwaukee-based quartet would sense the Jimmy Eat World tide and swiftly change course for what would become their swansong in 2002. Since then, there’s been only one reunion show (in 2006, also at Metro) and the handful of appearances planned for this year might only serve as a perfunctory warmup for a package of rarities expected come summer. In fact, frontman Davey Von Bohlen openly advertised a gig by his current vehicle, Maritime, in Chicago in March.

So the tentative nature of the reunion may have tempered fans’ expectations and allowed the band to get through a rather bumpy opening to Saturday’s curtain-raising at Metro. For the first several songs, either Von Bohlen or Jason Gnewikow’s guitar would go missing from the mix, and no one anticipated having to provide backing vocals — least of all Von Bohlen, who’d frequently pogo away from his mic stand and return too late to nail the vocal melody or rhythm.

After a crew member made some adjustments, however, things took off, incidentally abetted by an injection of tracks from their most consistent album, 1997’s Nothing Feels Good. While Gnewikow sequestered himself to the right flank, the audience buffeted Von Bohlen’s worn voice. Presented as a jumble, the band’s catalog demonstrated an unsung range that has become apparent over time. Songs like “A Picture Postcard” and “E. Texas Ave.” presented both twee and crushing templates with abstract poetry, and those lyrics begin to stretch into more conventional yet boyish styles on Nothing, before Very Emergency explodes into power-pop. Along the way, rare cuts and b-sides — including the rarely played “E. Texas Ave” and “Make Me A Mixtape” — juiced the fans.

– Steve Forstneger

Tim Hiatt was a busy boy this weekend! Visit our photo site for live pics of both Guns N Roses and Flogging Molly at the Aragon!

When an artist stages a farewell tour, it’s generally just a bluff to sell more tickets and they wind up coming through town for an endless parade of victory laps. (Cher and the Eagles come to mind.) But in the case of Glen Campbell, this really is his last hurrah, due to a recent diagnosis with Alzheimer’s disease that will force him to retire from the road and recording studio.

Even with the bittersweet premise behind his first of two nights at the Rialto Square Theatre in Joliet (where he returns on Friday), Campbell went out with a bang thanks to a slew of country to pop crossovers and tunes from the new Ghost On The Canvas (Surfdog). Much like Johnny Cash in his golden years, the collection takes on a decidedly introspective nature, but as the 75-year-old assured the near-capacity crowd, he’s maintaining a positive attitude.

Despite admitting mild memory loss in recent interviews and having a teleprompter by his feet in case of emergencies, Campbell was coherent and personable throughout 75 short but sweet minutes, sounding particularly spry on the familiar opener “Gentle On My Mind” and his subsequent mining through 50-plus years of material. No matter how many times they’re told, Jimmy Webb narratives like “Galveston” (which he almost started a second time before quickly steering back on course) and “By The Time I Get To Phoenix” and are still relatable tales of romantic yearning, though Campbell just as quickly turned the tides towards his cowboy side come “True Grit.”

The evening also unveiled glimpses of the veteran as a family man with his daughter Ashley backing him on banjo and keys, alongside his sons Shannon on guitar and Cal on drums (all of whom also served in the stellar opening act Instant People, a harmony-heavy, Southern-tinted indie-pop outfit). Aside from their obvious chemistry, a banjo/guitar duel between Ashley and her pop was most impressive, especially considering no teleprompter could ever deliver the fiery licks the elder Campbell effortlessly commanded. The communal feeling also paved the way for the gospel-infused current cuts like “It’s Your Amazing Grace” and “Ghost On The Canvas,” two primary examples of Campbell’s vitality and refusal to go down without swinging.

A home stretch of his most celebrated cuts (“Wichita Lineman,” “Rhinestone Cowboy,” “Southern Nights”) hinted at the musical legacy he’ll leave behind, while the new “A Better Place” suggested Campbell’s more concerned about the mark he’ll make as a human being. If this swansong show was any indication, he has nothing to worry about in either category thanks to a cherished catalog and the ability to courageously thrive in the face of adversity.

– Andy Argyrakis

For the first half hour, Jeff Tweedy hardly spoke to the audience. For a homecoming gig, that’s an interesting choice, one that didn’t hinder Wilco’s kick-off of their five-night Chicago residency a bit.

Check our photo site for a full gallery from Tuesday’s show at the Riviera (it was a better photo pit!).

During the initial sequence, the band were nothing short of rampant. Instead of rolling out the welcome mat, they opened with their new album’s 12-minute, elliptical, acoustic closer, “One Sunday Morning” and continued to pile on tension. Wilco immediately followed it with the rumbling “Poor Places,” which now infamously erupts into the “Yankee . . . hotel . . . foxtrot” electrical storm, with guitarist Nels Cline replacing the opener’s curlicued licks with a frenzied assault. From it emerged The Whole Love opener “Art Of Almost,” which fought through a stuttering beat and Krautrock iciness only to race off on a suicidal course. The pattern became relentless: gentle Being There staple “Misunderstood” thrashed and flailed through its defiant chorus; “I Am Trying To Break Your Heart” built and dissolved in Sisyphusian fashion.

But the intent wasn’t to disperse the dad-rock fog that had enveloped Wilco’s previous few records. True, there was no “The Late Greats” or “Wilco (The Song),” but there was no plunge into the darkness of “She’s A Jar” or “Via Chicago” either. “What A Light,” “Outtasite (Outta Mind),” and “Heavy Metal Drummer” hit all the sweet pop notes, leavened by “Jesus Etc” and “Born Alone.” The band wanted to showcase the full breadth of their powers, and it’s arguable that they’ve become more fluid and undeniable than the esteemed Kicking Television tour.

Cline, in particular, was imperious. A jazz guitarist who reportedly scoffed at the idea of joining a rock band, his soloing was a mercurial mix of legato virtuosity and riotous recklessness in nearly every phrase he uttered, whether “One Sunday Morning,” “Dawned On Me,” or a transfixing “Impossible Germany.” His performance was equaled only by the stunning visuals: a thousand strung-up cloths (like the ghosts hung from trees on Halloween) that alternately lit like fireflies or staged an unusually compelling light show. (And strangely arranged in the shape of the continental U.S.)

Once Tweedy opened his mouth and separated the songs with witty — if sometimes flat — rejoinders, the ensuing looseness was palpable. This made the dramatic effects of “Pot Kettle Black” and “A Shot In The Arm” feel all the more urgent, which may have served the band’s desire to maintain a mood, or at least maintain composure until it came time to kick back. Opener Nick Lowe joined the second encore to blast his biggest hit, “Cruel To Be Kind,” and rejoined the group with Mavis Staples (duetting with Tweedy on “You’re Not Alone”) for an arm-in-arm stab at The Band’s “The Weight.”

For the night, they could have gotten away with “More Than Words.”

– Steve Forstneger

For the length of her career, the saga of Tori Amos has, at its most basic, come down to the story of a woman and her piano. Certainly, there’s much more at play there, what with all the mystical lyrical imagery, fearless revelations, heady concept albums, and endless personas. But, at its core, the constant throughout all the characters and wardrobe changes has been Amos and her primary instrument. So when the veteran songstress incorporated a string quartet into her Chicago Theatre set this past Saturday, it not only changed the conversation, but it brought new energy to staples and strengthened more recent material.

Saturday’s event found Amos returning to the venue behind the recently released Night Of Hunters and its instrumental companion, Sin Palabras. On selections like “Lust,” off 1999’s To Venus And Back, and the title track to 2005’s The Beekeeper, as well as a cover of The Cure’s “Lovesong,” Amos performed solo, going back to the tried-and-true vocals-and-piano approach. Yet given the singer’s sprawling discography of 12 studio albums in under 20 years, even sonically distinct solo material blended together when given the scope of Saturday’s set and Amos’ library. Thankfully, a string section, including cello, violin, and viola, both enlivened the set’s selections and made for a more distinct delivery.

Perhaps most benefiting of the artist’s additional players was “Leather,” off 1992’s Little Earthquakes. As old as anything played during Saturday’s concert — and a track that originally featured subtle string work on its studio version — the additional players perfectly complemented Amos’ vocal stylings and the song’s simple and creeping melody. With regards to more modern material, the evening’s string musicians brought a warmth to Hunters production “Your Ghost,” while Amos and her instrument almost felt like support on that same album’s “Star Whisperer,” with the quartet bringing a rich grandeur to the selection. Soundtrack song “Siren,” meanwhile, received a more urgent, jerkier string treatment, with the 1997 deep cut a set treat in and of itself.

Over the years, as Amos’ sound has matured, so too has the tone of her material. Yet at the conclusion of a predominantly solemn and straight-faced evening of adult-alternative-all-grown-up, the artist closed with a jaunty rendition of “Big Wheel,” from 2007’s American Doll Posse. An unabashedly big and poppy production, the song made a showy declaration of the singer’s “M.I.L.F.” status. And, for just a moment, Amos wasn’t so much the grown songstress serenading a hushed theater with strings and piano, but the odd brash firecracker serving up strange and disarming alt-pop. It was a brief and welcome return to form among a night of successful new sound experiments.

– Jaime de’Medici

Let’s get this out of the way upfront. Yes, Kanye West and Jay-Z played “N***** In Paris” eight times this past Wednesday at the United Center, the first of the duo’s two-night run at the venue. Yes, it was a bit like one of those “Family Guy” gags that go on so long it stops being funny, only to have that become the joke. Yes, it was an exuberant and excessive move that only larger-than-life superstars like Ye and Jay could get away with. And yes, in fact, that shit was crazy.

While an endless encore of “Paris” may have been the feat that captured Twitter feeds as the night ended, the nearly three-hour shared set between two of hip-hop’s biggest names boasted far more than that epic closing note. In town behind the pair’s collaborative full length, Watch The Throne (Roc Nation), Mr. West and Mr. Carter moved through a set that featured practically every hit in both artists’ catalogs, both individually and collaboratively.

Performing separately, there were moments where the audience almost forgot about the shared nature of the bill, instead becoming transfixed by the presence and impact each performer’s strongest fare. For West, such moments included a ferocious performance of “All Of The Lights,” as well as a vulnerable and romantic rendition of “Runaway.” For Jay, it was the classic “Izzo (H.O.V.A.),” notable for being the first song West ever produced for The Blueprint, as well as “Empire State Of Mind,” despite serving as an anthem to New York performed here in Chicago. Together, Jay and Ye’s presence was often electric and intense, as was the case on the hard and heavy “Monster,” off West’s late 2010 effort, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. Similarly aggressive were many Throne cuts, including “Who Gon Stop Me” and “Welcome To The Jungle.” All of which made it that much affecting when the duo dropped their guards for the back-to-back Throne ballads “Made In America” and “New Day,” the latter of which seemed to especially impact the two otherwise hardened artists.

Such moments were the exceptions to the evening, however. If anything, Wednesday’s set was a celebratory affair between two giants with an expansive history of quality collaborations. It was the rare kind of night where the performers onstage were having as much fun, if not more, than the audience.

– Jaime de’Medici

In spring 2010, serial frontman Maynard James Keenan brought his Puscifer act to The Vic for a three-night stand. The run of shows saw the act deliver a highly theatrical series of concept performances, including one night’s hillbilly-centric event, wherein Keenan played the part of country-fried frontman Billy D.

With stage props and video interludes tying into a dedicated redneck storyline, in addition to countrified versions of the band’s selections, the performance displayed an impressive dedication to Puscifer as a theatrical venture. With the title and cover of the band’s brand new sophomore effort, Conditions Of My Parole, seemingly tied into that narrative, and video from the Billy D. performances playing onstage prior to the band’s proper set, all signs pointed towards continued theatrics at Tuesday night’s Puscifer show.

Unfortunately, such was not the case. Despite the onstage presence of a trailer as well as fold out chairs and tables, Puscifer’s Cadillac Palace Theatre outing offered little in the way of theatrics and even less in the way of story. Which isn’t necessarily something to hold against a hard-rock show, but given the red herrings surrounding the night, and the act’s origins in none other than “Mr. Show,” Puscifer’s straight-faced set felt a bit like an assignment completed last minute on the school bus. All the required elements were there, but the lack of presentation and preparation showed through.

Thankfully, what Tuesday’s set lacked in theatrics it more than made up for in power and mood. For 100 minutes, Puscifer delivered a performance that wasn’t afraid to be punishingly heavy. Such was the case with “V” Is For Vagina offerings like the thunderous “The Undertaker” and the alternatingly droning and grinding “Vagina Mine.” Newer cut “The Rapture,” meanwhile, filled the spacious theater with huge drums and an enormous breakdown. Performances like a seductive, Carina Round-fronted version of “Rev. 22:20″ switched up the tone of the night a bit, as did the synth-driven and electronic “Oceans” and the atmospheric dream-pop of “Monsoons.” But by and large, a grim and heavy tone held over Tuesday night’s set. Which isn’t a fault in and of itself, but for an artist like Keenan — who already has two other doom-and-gloom hard-rock projects intact, one has to wonder why he ditched the wry humor of his one fun outing.

– Jaime de’Medici

By now, much has been said about the funky and soulful direction of former Fall Out Boy frontman Patrick Stump’s solo career. Though a departure from the power-punk of the artist’s full band catalog, the recently released Soul Punk (Island) full length strongly plays to Stump’s adventurous pop sensibilities– sensibilities the artist had on display front and center at a hometown headlining show this past Friday night at Metro.

Flanked by a five-man band, Stump delivered a set that ventured into multiple musical arenas, from the Prince-esque funk of “Cute Girls,” which saw the frontman hitting impressive falsettos, to the more frenetic “Bad Side Of 25,” boosted by impressive guitar work and staggering sax. Elsewhere, horn and heavy bass elevated the groove-heavy “Everybody Wants Somebody,” while spacy synths and jerky rhythms made their mark on “Allie.” Through it all, the north-suburban native strutted and peacocked through the set, with a visible enthusiasm for playing to a homer crowd in a room he goes back with. By the time the crowd was swaying its hands to Stump’s command of “If you’re unfaithful/Put your hands in the air” in “The ‘I’ In Lie,” it was apparent thought the sonics may have changed, Stump’s commitment to moving the room hadn’t. In that sense, the song remains the same.

– Jaime de’Medici

Tipping the scales of 70 seems to have lit a spark in Paul Simon, not necessarily enhancing his laid-back personality, but giving him renewed creative vigor. The recent studio set So Beautiful Or So What (Hear Music/Concord Music Group) is among his most magnetic since Graceland (though it favors folk over African arrangements), while his previously intermittent touring patterns were replaced with a second American leg of a tour that first visited the Vic and Chicago Theatres earlier this year.

Setting up shop at the Rosemont on Sunday the 13th brought that same sort of intimacy towards his soft-spoken songs, as opposed to the arenas he played on Simon & Garfunkel’s reunion tour. But this was clearly a solo show, short on the duo’s hits and brimming with Simon’s career-spanning reflections. Speaking of Graceland, the show kicked off with the rhythmic “The Boy In The Bubble,” which highlighted his multi-cultural, eight-piece band and found Simon in a joyful mood.

The fresh follow-up “Dazzling Blue” maintained the motif of percussion-heavy grooves, which escalated even more during the reggae-influenced “Mother And Child Reunion.” Simon also demonstrated his vast appreciation for several other genres, from the roots rockin’ Junior Parker/Sam Phillips-penned “Mystery Train” to Chet Atkins’ jazzy finger-picker “Wheels,” and, later, a smoldering cover of Bo Diddley’s “Pretty Thing” (where he traded his acoustic guitar for harmonica).

Come his own “Slip Slidin’ Away,” all attention turned to Simon’s ultra-smooth vocals, which have held up quite well, especially considering he’s been on the road all year. Additional pitch-perfect flashbacks included a pair of Simon & Garfunkel favorites, “The Only Living Boy In New York” and “The Sound Of Silence,” the latter of which was especially poignant as a solo acoustic selection.

The only problem with the night was Simon being somewhat stingy with the hits, especially the duo years that he’s rarely shied away from before. Classics like “Mrs. Robinson,” “Cecilia,” and “The Boxer” were sorely missed, as were his own quirky experiments “Me And Julio Down By The Schoolyard” and “You Can Call Me Al.”

However, it was hard to complain considering he played more than two hours and 26 tunes, but nonetheless, a better balance could’ve certainly been struck. At least his encore was padded with the jams “Kodachrome,” “Gone At Last,” and “Graceland,” plus the gorgeously enduring “Still Crazy After All These Years,” which, coupled with his equally solid new cuts, reinforced Simon’s role as one of the greatest living songwriters.

– Andy Argyrakis

He may not tour very often, but thankfully Ray Davies’ music never goes out of style. Between an endless stream of classics he wrote and sang for The Kinks to the occasional solo chestnut, there’s plenty of material in his arsenal, which translated to no less than two-dozen tunes in front of a healthy crowd Friday the 11th at Chicago Theatre (where he last played in 2008).

Though he’s not touring behind new material per se, Davies does have a recently released CD that serves the dual purpose of a collaborations collection and a tribute record. See My Friends (Decca) finds the British Invasion luminary producing and sometimes singing with the likes of Bruce Springsteen, Billy Corgan, Metallica, Jon Bon Jovi, Jackson Browne, Black Francis, Mumford & Sons, Lucinda Williams, and Spoon for a modern-day romp across his repeatedly celebrated hits and album cuts.

Despite not having those ultra-famous faces on the road, the 67-year-old singer/songwriter certainly held his own through a setlist ripe with both the familiar and thankfully not forgotten archive material. Acoustic flashbacks to the ’60s like “I Need You” and “Sunny Afternoon” helped transport fans back to the days of The Beatles, Animals, Zombies, and certainly Kinks crossing over into America for the first time, unleashing an onslaught of good old-fashioned, but amazingly never dated, British rock ‘n’ roll.

Other unplugged favorites included the jangly powerhouse “Dedicated Follower Of Fashion,” the melodic simplicity of “Waterloo Sunset,” and the goofy but strangely endearing “Apeman.” Though the acoustic format gave such songs a newfound intimacy, that portion of the set was just a little too lengthy at eight cuts, especially considering his five backers that kicked in halfway through “20th Century Man” were nothing short of ferocious. Shortly thereafter, Davies showed off his incendiary six-string skills on the harmony-heavy “David Watts” and the stomping “Where Have All The Good Times Gone.”

Although there were plenty of points of connection upfront, Davies saved his mightiest staples until the back half. “Till The End Of The Day” swung with Brit pop brilliance, “All Day And All Of The Night” growled with dusty distortion, while the comparably somber “Celluloid Heroes” told the particularly timely tale of everyone wishing they were a celebrity. Yet it was “You Really Got Me” that brought down the house as a sputtering sing-along that overflowed with punk-charged riffs.

Granted, an evening of Kinks’ songs would’ve seemed more complete if brother/guitarist Dave were by his side, but considering their contentious relationship, this was the next closest opportunity. By the end of the near two-hour night, the leader didn’t just wave the band’s flag one more time, but also showcased a constantly contagious songwriting ability that’s transcended generations.

– Andy Argyrakis

Towards the end of Thursday night’s sold out show at the Metro, Thrice frontman Dustin Kensrue looked back upon his band’s history with the venue. As it turns out, the Metro served as the first stop of the group’s very first national tour, a full decade ago. The anecdote, alongside the band’s setlist at October 27th’s show, both served as reminders of Thrice’s longevity as well as the act’s ever-expanding catalog.

In town behind this year’s Major/Minor full length, Thrice took to the stage to deliver a succinct but satisfying set that visited the act’s various eras. Newer and more melodic fare like “Call It In The Air” proved building and sweeping, with a steady tempo giving way to cathartic collapse and a chorus fueled by an unsettling urgency. Elsewhere, more classic selections like “Silhouette” brought out Thrice’s harsher edge, with Kensrue alternating between screaming and guttural deep-throat growls. Similarly, the heavy “Cold Cash And Cold Hearts” made effective use of low-end chugging guitars and guitarist Teppei Teranishi’s backing vocals. Major/Minor’s “Treading Paper,” meanwhile, came across tuneful and spacious, with the band awash in a golden light during the performance.

Thrice’s performance achieved a few obviously desirable goals, between its highly sold-out status and set filled with crowd-pleasing offerings. But beyond those victories, the night served as testament to the quality of the band’s body of work, as it switched effortlessly between sounds either aggressive or atmospheric, if not both. A decade after its national launch, Thrice came back to show just how far they’ve come.

– Jaime de’Medici

When Howard Jones was at the height of his 8-million album-selling career during the mid-1980s, the time period’s limited technology forced him to skip performing several of his more complicated songs on stage. After having recently acquired his catalog masters from Warner Bros. for an extensive, self-curated remasters campaign, the singer/songwriter/keyboardist/programmer is dusting off his first two albums on the road — which include many tracks being performed live for the first time — landing on October 27th at Bottom Lounge.

The first point of business in the two dozen tune evening was a rediscovery of 1984’s Human’s Lib, which may have had a few glimpses of dated production, but also incredibly catchy songwriting that continued to strike a chord with the near capacity crowd. “Conditioning” and “Hunt The Self” showed off his sugary synths and electronic experimentation; the chilling “Hide and Seek” unveiled the more sophisticated side of his vast persona; while innovative deeper cuts like “Equality” and “Natural” embraced their live debuts.

Of course, the most roars came from hits like the funky strut of “Pearl And The Shell,” the new-wave nugget “What Is Love?,” and the contemplative ballad “Don’t Always Look At The Rain.” All the while, screens with abstract visuals tied loosely to the theme of each tune swirled overhead, offsetting the veteran’s trio of various synths and electronic drums with hypnotic atmospheres.

By 1985’s Dream Into Action, all eyes turned towards the jovial Jones as he donned a red leather jacket and sunglasses for the sparkly synths of “Automaton.” Once again, the deeper cuts also translated with charm to the concert setting, with ethereal soundscapes enveloping “Why Look For The Key” and his piano solo skills shining throughout “Assault & Battery.”

A little later, his biggest smash, “No One Is To Blame,” shone majestically, with some of his most relatable and enduring lyrics. Though not technically on the original album, the CD bonus track “Like To Get To Know You Well” brought additional familiarity, which was bookended by the positive “Life In One Day” and the perky call and response favorite “Things Can Only Get Better.”

In fact, that well-paced finale reminded fans just how many early career hits he had and that wasn’t even counting later material like “You Know I Love You . . . Don’t You?,” “Everlasting Love,” and “Lift Me Up” (which were unfortunately but understandably omitted given this show’s scope). Perhaps the greatest lesson learned from Jones’ latest tour was just how influential he’s been in the world of electronic pop, which considering it’s back in fashion, is giving the veteran an unexpected though much deserved review.

– Andy Argyrakis

Very few bands survived the new-wave era with integrity in tact, and though Duran Duran’s certainly made a few missteps along the way, the Fab Five (well, technically now just Simon Le Bon, Nick Rhodes, John Taylor, and Roger Taylor), haven’t just survived but thrived. Besides the band’s hysteria-inducing beginnings and a second bout with fame in the ’90s, the group’s currently in the midst of another resurgence. Granted, its latest, All You Need Is Now (S-Curve), isn’t tearing up the charts, but its return-to-form sound is fashionable once again thanks to shout outs from The Killers, Goldfrapp, Franz Ferdinand, and tourmates Neon Trees.

As a result, a sold-out Chicago Theatre on Friday the 21st included everyone from the expected 40somethings who used to pin posters of the boys on their bedroom walls, to a smattering of unapologetic hipsters who’ve realized much of the latest dance-pop revival wouldn’t be possible without these players. And while the two-hour, 20-track evening had enough of the hits to appease longtime listeners, this tour wasn’t just a trip down memory lane.

The first glimpse of All You Need Is Now came in the icy “Before The Rain,” which sounded like it could’ve come off Rio and found Le Bon nailing his signature vocal twists. Now in their late ’40s/early ’50s, its members have aged well musically and visually, continuing the focus on fashion that’s been a major element in the band ethos since the neo-romantic movement. In fact, the sleek “Blame The Machines” could’ve very well come from that period if it wasn’t for the shiny and decidedly modern production (which on record was assisted by Mark Ronson).

As the show progressed, the old and new regularly mixed, from ultra-fun flashbacks like “Planet Earth” and “A View To A Kill” to the equally synth-heavy “All You Need Is Now” and the current club smash “Girl Panic!” (arguably one of its strongest, most chic singles to date). This particular night also found DD painting outside the usual lines to unveil some rarities like the sultry instrumental “Tiger Tiger” and the punk-tinged “Careless Memories,” two examples of the band’s artistic depth beyond the bubble gum of “Hungry Like The Wolf.”

The only unneeded track at this stage of the game was “Ordinary World,” a brilliant ballad on The Wedding Album, but one that found the frontman struggling to reach the especially high falsettos. All was forgiven come the funky “Notorious” and an unexpected but well tailored medley of “Wild Boys” with Frankie Goes To Hollywood’s like-minded “Relax.” Throw in the brass-doused “Rio,” and Duran Duran retained just the right balance of its commercial past and increasingly celebrated present that’s still writing influential chapters in the new wave world and beyond.

– Andy Argyrakis