Wu-Tang Clan
As each member of the Wu-Tang Clan filtered onto the Fillmore’s stage Aug. 9, throwing down his own segmented, name-checking rhymes before coagulating at stage right with a collective boom-tap, it was an awesome sight.
This group is gigantic – even after O.D.B.’s late-2004 death. With that size comes an amazing amount of hot air, yes, but also an ocean of talent. And it came fast, furious and with an undeniable energy and back story at the crowd Aug. 9 in the form of Raekwon, Ghostface Killah, GZA, U-God and others.
Their size and talent are awe-inducing; even live, these boys can rhyme. (They did disrespect the crowd by showing up an hour late.) But most significant about Wu-Tang is the collective’s catalog, which at this hour has grown to include each member’s solo projects. The hits keep rolling at a Wu-Tang show, so much that the group shortens nearly every song to a verse-chorus-bullet shot outro – an unfortunate syndrome for fans who prefer entire songs.
Even still, the show was richly rewarding. A friend called it the O.D.B. R.I.P. party, and in many ways it was. It was a way of saying goodbye through the source material, and it was both cathartic and entertaining.
-Ricardo Baca
Richmond Fontaine
Willy Vlautin’s happy and kinda smiling – actually smiling – on the stage when we walk in. The Richmond Fontaine frontman known for his tragic storytelling of the depraved and the brave is grinning from the stage, and that’s what was most surprising about this excellent alt-country band’s show Aug. 8 at the Larimer Lounge.
It was a bizarre moment, because it reminded this critic that context is everything. Had I been listening to “Post to Wire,” Vlautin’s demeanor wouldn’t have surprised me one bit. But instead I’ve been lost in “The Fitzgerald” for the last year, and the depressing – yet poignantly beautiful – record of 11 character studies (songs) had me picturing Vlautin as some sort of Jeff Tweedy character on an Edgar Allan Poe binge.
Vlautin and his band picked through a solid selection from both “The Fitzgerald” and “Post to Wire,” including a heartbreaking “Disappeared” that resonated with a newfound energy and life in the intimate rock club. He was happy, and it spread like an office cold to the enthusiastic but sparse crowd.
-Ricardo Baca
What Made Milwaukee Famous
If you haven’t heard of this band, which lifts its name from a can of Schlitz beer, never fear; you will soon. With an “Austin City Limits” appearance (the first for an unsigned band) and a spate of glowing reviews under its oversized belt buckle, this young indie-pop quartet already boasts more accolades than some groups 10 years on.
It deserves them, too. The irresistibly melodic tunes from its Barsuk debut, “Trying to Never Catch Up,” immediately won over a half-full Larimer Lounge last Friday. The set, played nearly in sequence with the album, covered everything from epic-minded ballads (“The Jeopardy of Contentment”) to pleasantly stuttering NYC rock (“Mercy, Me”). The taut, bolted-down performances and chemistry between unassuming band members conspired to endear the act to the crowd.
But really, opening song “Idecide” was all we needed. It built from an ’80s video game riff to a lanky rallying cry, the muted riffs of singer Michael Kingcaid barely accentuating Drew Patrizi’s thunderous keyboards. When Kingcaid’s Jeff Buckelyesque howl kicked in, the audience surrendered fully, content to let this unknown group of sweaty T-shirt aficionados rule the rest of their night.
-John Wenzel
