Jail Weddings

I’m just trying to understand why Jon Spencer is doing this. This egomaniacal vanity study called Heavy Trash, which I could take for ironic stagecraft if I wasn’t under the impression that his inflated id is all too authentic, is Jon Spencer’s current musical project, orchestrated alongside Speedball Baby’s handsome guitarist Matt Verta-Ray.



There’s nothing wrong with playing rockabilly music, which Heavy Trash is, in its most digestible form. There’s nothing wrong with twangy foot-stomping rhythms, which Heavy Trash most certainly incorporates. What puzzles me is that Jon Spencer, a man who built his career on wildly fucking shit up, first with Pussy Galore and then (for a while) with the Blues Explosion (the 1996 JSBX album Now I Got Worry is still a favorite), has become the living embodiment of the type of performer he once articulately parodied. Strumming on a pointlessly acoustic guitar—something that Elvis was known for, so he’s staying roots-true to showbiz excess—flourishing a persona that channels Chris Isaak channeling Joaquin Phoenix channeling Johnny Cash, Spencer played entirely typical rock n’ roll hillbilly fare Saturday night at the Echo. Kinda boring. I was ready for the set to be over at least three songs prior to its conclusion. One audience member commented, “It’s so formulaic—it just seems like he’s cruising on name recognition,” and I couldn’t agree more.



During one ill-fated attempt to “get real” with the audience, Spencer went on a fifteen minute mid-song diatribe about the importance of not being self-absorbed. The story, when he finally got it out, was about how a young lady he was dating got in a car crash, narrated over Verta-Ray’s non-stop guitar-picking backbeat, which was really odd. Like, can’t you hold off on the boogie-woogie while you’re telling us about a violent accident involving a loved one?



More after the jump.


On a positive note, it does seem like they are having fun, which is nice, and their handsomely-adorned new Yep Roc release, cover illustrations by Tony Millionaire, has one track I dig titled “Way Out,” which translates well to live performance, although the studio version has more enjoyably rapacious grunting and moaning.



Way more fun/relevant/interesting was the opening act, Jail Weddings, the swampy homage-to-American-music nine man assemblage fronted by Gabe Hart, who was the deep throated creative force behind L.A.’s much missed garage rock band The Starvations. Flanked on each side like busty bookends by vocalists Tina "Tornado Jane" Brugnoletti and Katya Nadia Hubiak (Katya being especially generous with sharing her, umm, assets), Hart displayed once again his amazing capability to write and perform great songs. “I’m My Own Doctor” carried the pounding sweaty malevolence that The Starvations basically patented with their 2003 Gold Standard Labs album Get Well Soon, and “Mutual Fools,” is a memorable love song worthy of placement in the closing credits of some sweet-sad Jim Jarmusch-type movie. The combination of the singing trio with the six musicians at their rear, including guitar player Brian Waters of L.A.’s own white-boy soul machine Flash Express, lovely violinist Hannah Blumenfeld, and mustachioed saxophonist Brad Caulkins, calls for comparison to circa 1979 James White and the Blacks: The Blacks were basically a punk band playing jazz the way Jail Weddings is a garage band playing doo-wop. Jail Weddings, though, is way catchier. Their EP should be dropping soon.


- La Weekly

Going to a 'Part Time Punks' show at the Echo makes me feel old, and I'm not really old. Maybe it's the drug induced pogo-ing or the Charlie Brownesque stand-in-one-place dancing going on around me as kids talk about how awesome it is to dance to Iggy Pop. What? Really? Anyways, sometimes you have to brave the queerness of young adulthood to go see a decent band. Jail Weddings earned such an honor this night.

I already had two naps by 10pm tonight, so I was lively enough and willing to catch the first band: Man/Miracle. I couldn't find any additional info on this band (edit: see below), however I believe that they said they hailed from Santa Cruz, or someplace with a similar name. Anyways, these boys were quite the energetic bunch- screaming and pounding away on their instruments, we reached the conclusion that they were a cross between the band James and the Strokes, if both combined to make a band you'd want to listen to. And we did! If you read this blog with any regularity, it's pretty obvious that I will walk away from your set if I find my time could be spent better elsewhere. However, I spent most of the set bouncing along and open jaw gaping at the amount of drum solos there were. Maybe, actually, that's why I like them so much... the drums. That's how they would end (at least it seemed that way); every song felt like they were trying to invoke the spirit of John Bonham, maybe a giant gong would have helped. Only two things slightly dampened this performance: one audience member apparently was shitting himself due to the aroma coming off his person, and moving to the complete opposite side of the room only helped slightly. And two, the last song Man/Mission played kept reminding me of a Bon Jovi ballad, except that unexpectedly it would pick up and get loud and pretty rocking. I had mixed feelings about that one.

After that set there was the discovery of a man selling a couple cases of records stuck in the back corner. I probably would have lingered longer had he been outside, however, he did have a copy of Los Yetis- therefor he is awesome and I hope he is selling again soon.

I had to break away from the records once Jail Weddings came on. How can you not be distracted by the completely FULL stage of people with glittery costumes and screaming main singer? I know I was. I witnessed this band last year and was completely taken by surprise. They describe themselves as "an updated take on the darker side of the '60s girl group blueprint with swamp-pop leanings, all combined with mean-streak mutant torch song drama." but with a mainly male lead vocal. Watching the stage puts me into a weird trance-like state. Perhaps it's the OOhing and Aahing that is so reminiscent of the bad 60's girl rockers (Oh Shangri-Las, how I love you so), or the maybe the bands ability to stick a violin in the mix and still make it sound 'hard'. One aspect I like about Jail Weddings is their ability to play off the idea of wanting to sound like this genre, embracing it but then tweaking it enough to sound new, and honestly, not like many other bands out there. So kudos to you guys putting on another memorable show. And sorry that my photos were kinda crap.

Coming soon: YellowFever and why Austin would be the best city ever if only the temperature wasn't so damn hot all the time.
EDIT: Ok, so the Echo had the band name spelled wrong for the opening act. It was Man/Miracle NOT Man/Mission. OOps. Anyway, for more info, please click here.


Posted by elana at 11:03 AM

Labels: band review, concert review, jail weddings, live music, man/miracle, the echo


- payingmyownway.blogspot.com/2008/01/waiting-for-stage-to-break-jail.html

Jail Weddings
Somebody Lonely
Revenge/Red Wine
Los Angeles ten-piece Jail Weddings have finally put stylus to vinyl and released something you can actually take home and snuggle. Known for their barn-storming live shows, their newish 7”, “Somebody Lonely b/w The Honeymoon Loop,” somehow mashes the group’s giant sound onto a tiny piece of plastic. Band-leader Gabe Hart takes charge of A-side “Somebody Lonely,” and somehow manages to evoke both Elvises (Costello and Presley, not Stojko—though both are consummate showmen) in his delivery, while the band’s admirably Spectorian arrangements makes it nearly impossible to tell when the hell this song was recorded. Vocalists Katya Hubiak and Tornado Jane take over on “The Honeymoon Loop,” another lost girl-group classic about the realities of modern love. Brad Caulkins is a real standout on this track as his shifty sax honks out a nimble yet evil sounding solo that personifies the post-good time nausea the song is about. Bad news is, there’s a good chance this 300-print record is gone already. But can a full-length be far behind? — Patrick Newsom, LA Record - LA Record

@ QUE SERA
FRIDAY | AUG 31

What a great show and I liked it all, too: Woman, the band split international-playboy-style between NYC, USA and Mexico City, DF, and led by an able Australian—Beefheart splatter guitar over caveman rhythm section and split ursine vocals; sounded like Link Wray catching up to Black Flag, or something from Nick Cave, too, who was present if only in spirit in every band that played. Coming LP should be good—too-sick rock from two sick cities. Holy Kiss swung macabre where Woman swang mutated; Poe/Gorey instead of Pere Ubu, and their new record sounds good, too. Jail Weddings are unreal—full disclosure is that I respect Gabe Hart (Starvations/Fortune’s Flesh) a lot and here is the band he was born for. Nine-piece revue with himself and two wild ladies up front—Katya the incandescent blonde and Tina the bombshell brunette—and a band that is Phil Spector’s Wrecking Crew from X’s Los Angeles. Their good songs are as good as any good band and their best songs are an honor and a privilege: Gabe in silver tie with basso boom like Roy Orbison (!) hauling a song across his shoulder with the opener, “Somebody’s lonely . . . !” and the band (with violin and sax and keys) and the girls pop in on the exact same sha-la-la behind him. No gimmick—instead the total real deal, with Katya and Tina and Gabe all splitting solos (just like my Wailers at the Castle LP) off their righteous heartbroke big-beat big-chorus California rock & roll. Grand Elegance soaks the floor for finale like “Gimme Danger” and “The End” and a final new song that’s got that famous Hitchcock-Birds-descending-on-a-Volkswagen sound. Heavy ’60s rock mostly because of purity of intent and execution—after this, dudes were fighting outside against a picket fence and going, “Wheeeeeeeeeere’s my Budweisssssssser?” so let’s end this review as Grand Elegance is standing onstage, shocked and exhausted and wondering if they should do an encore. And they should have.

- District Weekly