Jolie Holland, Amos Lee, Man Man, Of Montreal, Hercules and Love Affair, CP Benefit, DMBQ
Former Be Good Tanya Jolie Holland's touring behind The Living and the Dead, a record that finds her vocals finally relaxing into the strong alt-dot-country twang that supports it just fine. Resting on rhythms subconsciously recycled from Tom Waits' Raindogs, the instrumentation is tight--M. Ward must have sensed a quirky-pretty female musician and strapped on the six-string wings, swooped in and made the production sound warm and cozy. Holland's fresh off a break-up bender--the juice of most superlatively awesome and terrible albums--and junkie friends, ex-lovers and studio poltergeists populate the singles. The show at the Tin will feature ex-Decemberist Rachel Blumberg on the skins and bassist Tim Luntzel, who regularly records with Bright Eyes. (Tara Murtha)
It's not often you get to take in three top-notch standup comedians and three high-caliber bands in one evening and do good at the same time. Hell, it's not ever. But that dry streak ends Sunday when some of Philadelphia's apex of funny (Chip Chantry, Doogie Homer, Brian Cichocki) team up with some of its finest bands (Cabin Dogs, the Scott Silipigni Band, Transistor Rodeo) for a night to raise money to give college scholarships to kids living with cerebal palsy. The event is being thrown in association with CP Center of New Jersey, and is the perfect soup for your sinful soul that'll need a fix of something pure after a debauched Halloween weekend. (Brian McManus)
Tucked away in my iTunes library, offering an alternative to all the rowdy hip-hop tunes, is Amos Lee. This teacher-turned-musician has a likable quality to his music that forces almost anyone, no matter their musical preference, to tap their foot and enjoy. Amos Lee's "Sweet Pea," which has become popular due, in part, to a few AT&T commercials, best illustrates his fusion of folk, jazz and blues. Armed with his guitar and the heavy Southern influence in his music, it's hard to believe Lee is actually from Philadelphia and not Alabama. (Shahida Muhammad)
Halloween Choices, a one-act play.
Terry McGillan is a young man, works hard. Confident, many of his friends and relatives seek his advice. When not working morning to night at his job in construction, Terry drinks beer in a graveyard. That's exactly what he's doing tonight, early evening, Halloween. He and his brother Joseph "slam brews" at St. Peter's Church Cemetery. It's cold out, and the air is thick with fog. In the distance, wolves howl.
Joseph: What we doin' after these brews, T?
Terry: We're movin' on, fuckin' shit up.
Joseph: But there's so much to do! Man Man is playin' at the Starlight, Hercules and Love Affair are playin' Makin' Time and Of Montreal are hittin' up the Electric Factory.
Terry: Joseph, you for real with this shit? Sometimes I wonder if you're really my brother.
Joseph: What you mean, T?
Terry: First of all, Hercules and Love Affair is queer. Only three songs on that record they put out on Death From Above are worth a shit, the ones with Antony Hegarty singin'. So I don't think that show's worth goin' to, but--and here's the catcher--you get in free with a ticket from Man Man's show, it's what they call a double event ticket. I like them Man Men, especially when I'm watching them when I'm bombed. (Takes large gulp.) Which I am!
Joseph: So you're doin' Man Man instead of Of Montreal?
Terry: Jesus and Mary, Joseph. You're killin' me! Of Montreal are embarrassing, friend. Hear that? Embarrassing! It's like some ninth- generation Spiders From Mars bullshit that needs to stop already. You see those live pictures of their lead singer on Brooklyn Vegan? Looked like a high school production of A Midsummer Night's Dream. Dude was shirtless on a horse. A horse! Fuck outta here!
Joseph: Sometimes you worry about me and you're readin' Brooklyn Vegan, T? Some times I don't know you, bro.
Terry: No. You do. You know me too well, Joseph. So well, in fact, you caught that obvious gaff. Truth is, I'm not your brother.