Online Mixtapes & Playlists: Some Favorites

I posted this on Institute for the Future's Future Now blog the other day and think it's worth a repost over here.

Online playlists are huge right now, and some services are much better than others. As with most things that come in multiple forms on the web, I've messed around with many of them and have found a few favorites. (iMeem is not one of them.) Half of the fun is just browsing and listening to other people's mixes and with a bunch of good sites popping up, there's no shortage of mixes to browse.

First, I like Muxtape, which allows you to upload tracks and make one 12-track mix under your username at a time. The interface is incredibly simple and it's great at doing what it's meant to do. Here's my current mix: http://agreatnotion.muxtape.com/. You can't download the mixes, you play them through the site. It's fun to choose a few strangers' Muxtapes at random when you're hanging out at someone's house. I've been amazed by how fast some of my friends will run to the computer when a really bad song comes on.

My friend's Chad Wood's site, Collective Playlist, allows you to submit URLs of tracks available on the Internet, tag them, and make mixes out of the collective library of tracks (hence Collective Playlist). It's very much an experiment, and there are some logistics that are still being thought through, but it does regularly check the health of the links so if something goes down it comes out of the database. Using what the CP database has to offer is also a great way to explore and discover some things you may not have heard before or things you forgot about and want to listen to more. If you're really desperate you could also upload tracks to your own server and submit the links but realize that doing so will cost you bandwidth if others decide to use those tracks in playlists. Here's my test mix using all colors as my search terms: Colors.

Today I came across Mixwit.com which may be my new favorite. You can't upload tracks or submit tracks you've found posted elsewhere; instead, it forces you to use what you can find on the Internet with their built-in interfaces to Skreemr or Seeqpod search. It also doesn't display a track list when you play the final mix, but the fact that the little gears spin and the tape actually spools as you advance through the mix makes up for that. The site allows you to upload your own image to be the face of the tape and customize the layout a little, or choose from the stock retro labels they already offer. They also include links to embed the mix on every social networking site under San Francisco Bay sun. Again, mixes are not downloadable, they can only be played through the app.

Here's my first go at it: A Handful of Rock Ladies

Click the play button below to listen without going to the Mixwit site.

I'd love to know what else is floating around out there. Comment with your favorites!

8 April 2008: Acid Mothers Temple & the Melting Paraiso UFO

8 April 2008
Acid Mothers Temple & the Melting Paraiso UFO
Bottom of the Hill
1233 17th Street (@ Missouri) [Map]
Drinks consumed: 3 beers

The smashing of a guitar is an iconic rock and roll action, but who has ever actually seen it done live?

Thanks to Acid Mothers Temple, I have!


AMT's merch table
Acid Mothers Temple is one of the loudest, most hardcore rock and roll bands I've ever seen. The four gentlemen from Japan filter dark, hard rock through psychedelic textures, with songs that can last for 35 minutes or longer. They are that other side of "jam bands," the one that leans toward Black Sabbath–style rock instead of smooth jazz. And between Kawabata Makoto's Jap-fro to Higashi Hiroshi's white wizard hippie style, they also look completely insane.


Higashi Hiroshi raises a fist
In the course of the nearly hour-and-a-half set, the last stop on their Recurring Dream and Apocalypse of Darkness Tour, they grabbed bits of sound from every corner of the musical cosmos. Their bass player chants, plays flute, and sings, although I have no idea what he might be singing about. In this case, it really doesn't matter. His voice is just another piece in the great psychedelic tapestry. Makoto plays his guitar in such odd positions and with such violent motion that it almost looks like he's not playing at all. Think air guitar to a Metallica track but on a real instrument. Hiroshi plays synth, making wacky synth noises and just generally looking like a crazy old wise man in rose-colored glasses. And the drummer... yes. Everything about this band is awesome and wonderful.



Kawabata Makoto
AMT closed the show with a guitar smash. And not only did Makoto freak out and smash his guitar on the stage, he threw the pieces out to the audience. The group in front of the stage clamored like bridesmaids to a bouquet, with two people raising the body and the neck separately in triumph. I jumped for the pick but it sailed over my head into the clutches of a dude behind me.


No neck.
And no, I'm sorry, Koshi didn't get a clear shot of the smashed guitar. The best he got is the above shot where you can see him holding the neckless guitars. But I did see a guy take it into the men's room with him.


Tsuyama Atsushi
Best show of 2008. I have yet to blog the other 2 I've been to this year, and have several coming up next week, but this is definitely the unbeatable show to beat.

The Perverse and Often Baffling World of Martuni's

Martuni's
4 Valencia St. (@ Market) [Map]
Drinks consumed: 2 perfectly made Beefeater martinis (dirty, of course)

I enjoy karaoke, but what I enjoy more than karaoke is a good piano bar—and not even in an ironic way. My brain contains the melodies and lyrics to tons of show tunes and jazz standards, a secret I have kept from most people for years. Karaoke doesn't really satisfy this inner cheese; I'm not about to follow up someone's drunken, off-key rendition of Richard Marx's "Right Here Waiting For You" with a semi-serious rendition of something accompanied by a MIDI track. Karaoke is for George Michael, Pat Benatar, and other ridiculous pop staples of my youth. Thus, the only place I can really satisfy my need to belt out a Cole Porter or Harold Arlen tune is a good, old-fashioned piano bar. Fortunately, there is one very close to me: Martuni's.

Martuni's mixes amazing cocktails with a variety of vocal performances. There are no slips of paper, mini-golf scorecard pencils, or earnest KJs here. Only a man, a piano, an over-sized martini glass stuffed with dollar bills, a Spencer's Gifts disco light, and a songbook I've never touched. And the weirdest crowd this side of Market Street. The pianist is actually very talented, and in addition to accompanying the wide range of musical talents who sidle up to the Martuni's piano, he sings and plays trumpet.


I make my request to the pianist.
This particular night, we were subject to a couple of girls singing something so badly the song was unrecognizable. Later in the evening, a sonorous tenor, dressed from the neck down like Cap'n Crunch, sang a couple standards and almost popped my ear drums. As he crooned, my friends and I became obsessed with a woman sitting at the piano. She was over 40 but has had enough Botox shot into her face to take out a small Indian village. A string of over-sized gold beads complemented her frozen joker expression and long black hair. She sported a very short "little black dress" and had both legs stretched out on the stool next to her. Upon making an appalling discovery, Koshi leaned over to say that he was sure she had left her panties in the drawer that morning.

Between guest (read: drunk) vocalists, the pianist performs for the eager crowd who, this evening, were hungry for disco. For disco tunes, he plays some karaoke-type accompaniment on his iPod and whips out the incredibly silly disco lights while people dance to his watered-down renditions of already soggy disco classics. My special lady at the piano really liked to dance, and stumbled around the dance floor with a strange group of people who had clearly been there since after work. (It was around 11pm by now.)

For whatever reason, my friends seem to like it when I sing, and urged me to sing something. So after killing the last drop of martini #1, and after the scary middle-aged ladies finished dancing to "Copacabana," I approached the piano and made my request. Then I sat down at the piano and signaled to the group for another drink. It was clear it might be a bit of a wait.


The timid and slightly off-key performance.
Several songs later, the pianist called Claudia to the piano, who sang a lovely rendition of "Killing Me Softly" as her friends added Fugees-esque embellishments from the back of the room. I was intimidated, so I mustered some more liquid courage from my martini glass. (It was at this point that Botox-face left the bar.) When Claudia and her friends finished, it was my turn. I sang "Stormy Weather," which I haven't done for a long time. Of course I fucked up here and there but nobody really noticed because everyone was drunk. My friends applauded warmly, I replaced the mic and apologized to the pianist for screwing up, and we got the hell out of Martuni's before the next round of disco began.

In summary, Martuni's is weird and wonderful, a bastion of kitsch whitewashed in class. If you want to sing, be prepared to suffer while waiting your turn, and note that the pianist may take off for the night before you get your chance. If you do get to sing, be ready to recall those standards you pretend you don't know and love. And, of course, tip your pianist.

SF Jukebox's Best of 2007

I realize that February 2008 is almost over but we never did a best of 2007. Everyone does a best of 2007, but they usually do it in December. Better late than never.

Here are our five favorite shows of 2007.

The Sea and Cake at Bimbo's

Why?

1. We love this band.
2. Sam Prekop personally handed Koshi his photopass.
3. Sam Prekop pretended to be overcome by the awesomeness of his own guitar solo and rolled around on the stage.
4. Great crowd.

Low at The Great American Music Hall

Why?

1. We love this band.
2. It was my birthday and Alan Sparhawk played "When I Go Deaf" for me.
3. A drunk guy in the balcony begged to hear "Transmission" until they gave in and played it.
4. The show finally convinced me that I love Drums and Guns.

Sonic Youth at the Berkeley Community Theater

Why?

1. It's Sonic fucking Youth and they played Daydream Nation start to finish.

Two Gallants w/Blitzen Trapper at the Independent

Why?

1. We were there for the opening band and they kicked ass.
2. Two Gallants are hometown heroes.
3. This show provided incontrovertible proof that rock and roll is not dead.

US Air Guitar Regional Championship at the Independent

Why?

1. Air guitar is completely absurd yet incredibly entertaining.
2. My friend was the most hated judge for the second year in a row.
3. I got to yell "YOU SUCK!!!!!!!!" at least 10 times and it was okay because everyone else was yelling it too!

Here's to more shows and more awesome in 2008. Cheers!

13 November 2007: The Walkmen

13 November 2007
The Walkmen
The Independent
628 Divisadero St (btwn Hayes & Grove) [Map]
Drinks consumed: 3 or 4 beers.

I haven't listened to the Walkmen's latest albums—A Hundred Miles Off and the remake of Harry Nilsson and John Lennon's Pussy Cats—so that probably excludes me from claiming that I am a "fan." However, I loved the first two full Walkmen albums and their various EPs, and am particularly fond of the music made by organist Walter Martin, drummer Matt Barrick and guitarist Paul Maroon as Jonathan Fire*Eater. Plus, the Walkmen were the first band I ever interviewed for a feature. Honestly, though, I was most excited to see someone tear up the keys of an upright piano like the one my parents bought used for me when I was 12.


Right, the piano. Just because a band has a piano on stage does not mean it's acceptable to compare them to certain other 21st century bands that use pianos. The piano has been a huge element of the Walkmen's music since long before Coldplay was a household name. Although they sound, at times, like a drunk early-90s U2, the Walkmen avoid coming off as a U2 tribute band through their urban barroom lyrics, piano-hammering compositions, and wailing guitar. However, the newer songs—i.e., the ones I didn't recognize—rely more on guitars and reserve the piano for the background. Still, the pianist impressed me, although I can't figure out if it was Walter Martin on the keys or bassist Pete Bauer since they switched instruments for the last album and I can't tell them apart. Even weirder, frontman Hamilton Leithauser sounds so much like a certain famous singer these days that I heard a guy behind me lean over to his friend and say, "I've always really liked Bob Dylan."


The highlight of the show was "Thinking of a Dream" from Bows + Arrows, which seemed louder than every other song they played (and they're all pretty loud live). Leithauser did not sound like Bob Dylan for this one—he sounded like a great crooner. One track notably missing from the set was "The Rat," the single that has been in movies, on TV shows (most notably The OC), and was even featured in a baseball video game. Then again, I probably wouldn't want to play that track either.


I wasn't expecting the show to be packed, which is foolish since the band has been around since 1999 (when the former Fire*Eater members joined forces with Martin's cousin Leithauser and former Recoys bassist, Peter Bauer). I guess because I'd tuned out for a while I assumed everyone else had too. Silly me: the show was packed. It shows what one viral single can do for—or to—your fan base.

26 October 2007: Blitzen Trapper & Two Gallants

26 October 2007
Two Gallants w/Blitzen Trapper
The Independent
628 Divisadero St (btwn Hayes & Grove) [Map]
Drinks consumed: lost count but thanks for that shot, Jason!

Those who claim rock and roll is dead—or at least not "vibrant" these days—haven't seen Blitzen Trapper or Two Gallants play live to a drunk and rowdy crowd at the Independent. (They also aren't paying attention to music in general, but that's beside the point.) While the Two Gallants are hometown heroes, thinking of them as just another local band undercuts the talent of the duo, whose sound falls somewhere between Guy Clark and the Buzzcocks. Coupled with classic-rock-loving Blitzen Trapper, you have a show which proves that rock and roll is not dead. These two bands are recycling and combining old forms of music to create awesome new sounds.


Identifying what classic rock artist each Blitzen Trapper song sounds most like is an exercise in classic rock appreciation. From Cream to Black Sabbath to the Zombies, Blitzen Trapper is right on the heels of Wolfmother in bringing the sounds of the late 60s and early 70s to indie rock. It's about time—the wannabe Joy Division sound was excruciating from the start. It's great to see a bunch of nerdy guys—one of them in a too-small ski sweater his grandma could have bought him—rock the fuck out to the sounds of their parents' record collections as if Interpol never happened. They played a long set which made the show feel like they were more double headliners than an opening act. I loved it.


Then we have Two Gallants. "Alt-country" is the lamest label you can give these guys. This is a band who, in 2006, found themselves face-to-face with a Houston police officer's taser when the officer responded to a noise complaint from a neighbor and the band continued to rock. Fortunately there were no utterances of "Don't tase me bro" at the Indy. There were, however, plenty of people singing along to every word. The duo's lyrics are old country with a punk twist: "I shot my wife today / dropped her body in the 'Frisco bay / I had no choice it was the only way / Death's coming, I'm still running." And, of course, my friend's personal favorite: "But I guess by the dim light in your eyes / And that to you all things come as a surprise/ I should set the steel trap of your thighs / And dive right in." The place nearly exploded when they played those two songs—"Steady Rollin'" and "Despite What You've Been Told," respectively—thus restoring my faith in San Francisco's ability to rock.

25 September 2007: Low

25 September 2007
Low
Great American Music Hall
859 O'Farrell Street (btwn Polk & Larkin) [Map]
Drinks Consumed: It was my birthday, I didn't count.
Review at the Owl Mag


Low was originally scheduled to play San Francisco in July, on dates I couldn't make. Then they decided to go on tour with Wilco and postpone part of the tour until the fall. Coincidentally, they rescheduled the Great American Music Hall shows for two days in September, one of which happened to be my birthday. Those who know Low well may not think it the most festive of bands to see on one's birthday, but I disagree. Every chord of their music is hauntingly beautiful and evocative and the show was fantastic.


That's me. That's my birthday rock fist.
After looking at some set lists from other stops on the tour, I didn't expect them to play much, if anything, from their 2005 release, The Great Destroyer, so when they opened with "Cue the Strings" I was pleasantly surprised. Destroyer is their first album working with producer David Fridmann—"the fifth flaming lip"—and was a wildly popular rock 'n' roll departure from their albums. After the opening song they moved into tracks from the 2007 album, Drums and Guns: "Sandinista," "In Silence," and "Take Your Time." Drums and Guns was also produced by Fridmann but is not a natural progression from Destroyer in sound. It's a return to minimal, creeping melodies and crystalline percussion, with a little synth thrown in here and there, but brings with it the lack of restraint and tendency toward experimentation we saw on Destroyer. The next track was something that I sadly couldn't identify but it was old: slow, droning, and, at times, psychedelic. Then "Dragonfly" from 'Guns,' "Silver Rider" from Destroyer, and back to the new album with "Belarus." They pulled out "Point of Disgust" from Trust and closed out the set with "Violent Past," "Murderer," and "Breaker" from Guns.



I have never been the kind of person to yell things out at shows, save the one time I screamed "Fuck yeah!" when Kings of Convenience played the chorus from Pavement's "Range Life." (I thought others would be as excited as me but I was wrong.) But it was my birthday, the whiskey was flowing, and when other people started shouting song titles I couldn't help myself—"WHEN I GO DEAF" just came out. This was followed by a friend shouting, "It's her birthday!" and another friend asking, "Where do I get the dragonfly pills?" a reference to a "Dragonfly" from Drums and Guns (We took our pills / It changed the world / We had our fill / But when we realized / That we were dragonflies). Others shouted a few random requests but the band continued playing the set.


At some point during the first encore after they played "Sunflower," I was at the bar making someone buy me a drink when Alan Sparhawk asked, "Where's the birthday girl? Is it really her birthday?" There was no way for him to see me jumping up and down in the back of the room waving my arms like a moron and yelling, "YES, YES IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!!!" but fortunately Koshi (who takes the pictures for my reviews) was in front of the stage shooting the band and confirmed that it was, in fact, my day of birth. As Sparhawk strummed the first few chords and sang the first line of my requested song, I went to stand in front of the stage. Then I realized that an incredibly wasted man was yelling, "Transmission!" from the balcony, and apparently had been doing so the whole show. Sparhawk stopped playing, turned his attention to the raging fan, and told the audience it was his drunk uncle who follows him around. Some banter and a profession of love from the drunk guy later, Sparhawk realized this guy wouldn't be satisfied until the heard his song so they played it. It's a really amazing cover of Joy Division (and one of my favorite covers of all time). They went right into "When I Go Deaf" which is twice as haunting live as it is on the album. Happy birthday to me! I could have done without the seizure-inducing strobe light during the second encore, though.


Even if they hadn't played "When I Go Deaf" and even if it hadn't been my birthday, this would still be one of my favorite shows of the year. Mimi and Alan sound beautiful together and the mix of old songs and new songs flowed well. Their live performance was so compelling when I found out they'd be playing a small free show at Stanford the following Thursday, I hung around after work and went over to see them again with a friend who goes to school there. There was more banter, and not just because one of the organizers introduced them as "the saddest band in the world." Alan appears much more comfortable in a small room of strangers to their music than in a large room like the Great American Music Hall.