So it begins
Shows have been trickling in. The theory is once the Lollapalooza and Pitchfork radius clauses (radii clausi?) fizzle, that’s when the shows begin their annual, fall stampede. We used to blame it on the CMJ fest in New York. Whatever it is, it’s decision time.
Of course, this weekend there’s still time to catch up on some outfits who didn’t take part in our summer shenanigans. (Shenanigi? What’s the plural on that?) Some folks like to be different, or play hard to get. Well, it’s play your virgin Chicago shows now or gitouttadaway.
Peter Case (ex-Nerves, Plimsouls) is not related to Neko, though he shares a fondness for reverb on his voice and old-ish pop methods. A fondness for the sounds of his youth on Wig! (Yep Roc) probably has something to do with the emergency open-heart surgery he recently underwent to spare him from an illness. The album doesn’t pulse with EKG jolts, but the restive blues that populated several Rolling Stones albums in the late ’60s. If you replace Mick Jagger with a confused, young Ryan Adams, though if you were to meet Case out in the countryside you might mistake him for someone trying to sell you a bucket of fried chicken. He shouldn’t partake, so please — have some. (Saturday@FitzGerald’s in Berwyn.)
Postponed due to injured drummer Jon Brookes: When you reach that point in the evening where Britpop becomes the center of conversation, people unwittingly begin taking Oasis/Blur sides and some dillweed pops up with his ponderous “Actually, Pulp . . . ” speech. Rarely does the argument — prone as is it to brawling — swing around to pick up The Charlatans (U.K.). That Pulp eejit might stipulate that the Charlas were actually fixtures of Madchester, but because Madchester gave rise to Britpop we’ll dismiss such inconveniences. And because they’ve outlasted them both. Despite upheavals in trends, fashions, and life itself (key member Paul Collins was killed in the ’90s), The Charlatans have carved out an unlikely career marked by an almost unnatural longevity. This fall’s Who We Touch (The End) has familiar bits (a Stones riff here, some Blur there), and ends with a hidden track that sounds like the mad ravings of Nick Cave. (Saturday@Double Door with Sherlock’s Daughter.)
Margot & The Nuclear So And So’s will be playing a sort of homecoming show this weekend to celebrate their third album, Buzzard (Mariel). Though frontman Richard Edwards isn’t an unknown in these parts (he’s an out-of-stater), ironman producer Brian Deck and solo raconteur Cameron McGill, both locals, played big roles in the production. Withstanding their conquering advances, Edwards still owns his album despite the energy he spent on his final Epic Records set, the two-disc Animal. He still likes his post-grunge alt-rock guitars, and alternately plays the player (with some Greg Dulli-worthy lines) and the played. (Sunday@Lincoln Hall with The Lonely Forest and Cameron McGill.)
— Steve Forstneger
Category: Featured, Stage Buzz, Weekly
