San Francisco is My Home

San Francisco is My Home

13
Nov

Smooth Sailing at The Attic


Maybe you don’t have a boat, but you can still go sailing.

Or, to put it another way, maybe you don’t have any smooth rock records, but you can still attend Sailing, a celebration of rock so smooth it could have been recorded by Christopher Cross. Wait, it was. So don your thick-rimmed glasses, slap on your stick-on soul patch, stuff a hoodie in your bag and head on down to The Attic any Tuesday from 9 to midnight.

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26
Oct

We Be The Echo at Bottom of the Hill


Last night I went to Bottom of the Hill to see We Be The Echo math-rock the house.

The sign outside Bottom of the Hill is blue neon and reminds me of the Cave Train ride at the Santa Cruz Boardwalk. You know how some neon looks dirty and rugged and makes you think of noir films and cheap motels? This neon is friendly and looks G-rated. Why is that? Maybe because the letters are kind of rounded and cartoony. I would not be surprised to enter Bottom of the Hill and see a couple of animatronic cavemen clunkily playing rock-based instruments.

But actually what I saw was We Be The Echo, none of whom look like cavemen or play their instruments in any way clunkily. They play instrumental rock and are very entertaining live. I watched the bassist a lot, because he spends most of his time playing in this really uncomfortable-looking lean, almost like he’s sitting in an invisible chair. I was sometimes distracted from the music while I worried about what this posture must be doing to his lumbar region. Maybe entertaining isn’t the word I want for this. Worrying? They are very worrying live.

Man, they are going to Google themselves and find this and then I’m going to get letters. “Worrying? Seriously? That’s the best plug you could give us?” Guys, I am a huge fan of your music. But that thing Mike does with his back, it’s not healthy. Come on.

Potential injuries aside, I do really like their music, and judging from the size of the crowd I’m not the only one. It is no small feat to pack Bottom of the Hill. A complete stranger put it best: I was outside getting some air while the band played, and two guys, obviously coming to see the next band, walked up to the door.

“Is that them?” one guy asked.

“No,” the other guy snorted scornfully. “Listen to them. That’s a real band.”

So there you have it. Out of the mouths of babes, or at least reasonably good-looking guys: We Be The Echo is a real band. Check them out here.

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02
Oct

A mighty fine show


The Hobohemians put on a mighty fine show on Sunday night. As a band they were excellent, but for my money the best part of the evening was when the rest of the band took a whiskey field trip to the bar and guitarist Ivan Cooper performed a solo number.

As the band left the stage and the audience relaxed into chatter, Ivan started singing an a capella Irish ballad that silenced the room. It was like something out of a movie. Everyone got rapidly quiet, and then everyone got rapidly goosebumped, and then everyone got rapidly teary-eyed. Something about sitting in an Irish pub, listening to an Irish ballad (about heartbreak and death, as all the best ballads are) really brings my sentimental Irish blood front and center. Luckily, the band closed with a comical country song, also sung by Ivan. Thank god, or I would have gone home all maudlin-feeling.

The Hobohemians are playing again soon at The Brainwash, the laundromat/cafe/open mic that every performer in this town is required to perform at. It’s like the tax that every artist must pay. I sort of love it.

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