Andrew St. James Beautifully Mines The Past With “Home Demos, Vol. 1.”

Photo credit: Cesar Maria

What would it be like to have a conversation with your past self? How would you interact with a younger version of your DNA? Would it feel as if you’re talking to a different person altogether?

That was the kind of existential experiment that Andrew St. James recently grappled with while revisiting his vast back catalog of demos and home recordings—some dating back more than a decade. 

“When I was going back to listen to these old songs, I would hear this energy there that I still personally react to,” said St. James. “It was nice to remind myself of that person who I was back then—someone who decided to make a life out of playing music as a 17-year-old. It felt special, and it definitely re-inspired me to continue doing this thing.”

St. James, the prolific singer-songwriter whose solo career enmeshes with group projects like Fast Times, Juan Wayne and Lucky, took to his archives this year in an effort to clear out dozens and dozens of previously recorded tracks that never made it to an official album. The result is “Home Demos, Vol. 1” an 11-song compendium released on April 10 that documents in real time the evolution, maturation and growth of a musician coming into his own.

Any collection that draws upon years and years of recorded material is sure to elicit big emotions, but “Home Demos, Vol.1” is particularly profound. That’s due to two primary reasons—the poignant tenderness of St. James’ lyrics and the bravado range of his vocal delivery.

Many of the songs on the album were written when St. James was a teenager or barely into his 20s and that youthful expressiveness is endearingly evident. When you’re young, the stakes are always incredibly high, and St. James conveys that thrilling immediacy throughout the record, most notably in tearjerker ballads like “The Great Divide,” which was written in 2017. 

A shadowy and austere fingerpicked acoustic number, that song is an impossibly heartfelt rendition of regret and loss, with St. James pleading out lines such as “I’m sorry if I hurt you / It makes me want to die,” and “I love you all my life / And that’s forever.” (I mean, wow.) With confessions so rough and ragged, the normal recourse would be to keep them hidden forever. St. James is brave enough to finally air them out, nine years after they were first written. 

“I was obviously writing and singing that song in an extremely vulnerable state where everything felt like it needed to be stripped down,” said St. James. “That’s one of those songs that I probably wouldn’t write now, but I clearly had these deep, intensely personal feelings at that time. I was drawn to that song now just because it is so personal.”

Adding to the resonance of those pleading words is St. James' voice, a magnificently warbly instrument. Recalling indie folk artists like Saintseneca’s Zac Little and Kristian Matsson of the Tallest Man on Earth, St. James natural register is one of mournful desperation, a craggy appeal that elevates every lyric into the contrasting realms of dire straits or unchecked euphoria. The recordings on the album are all in their infancy period, mostly just demos that have not been mastered—heightening the unvarnished and raw sentimentality of the songs.

While the album is deeply intense, St. James clearly had some fun with these songs. He elongates every vowel to ridiculously cheeky lengths on the Supertramp-indebted “Nobody Else,” and he caterwauls like the great Hamilton Leithauser on the jaunty waltz “Reasons,” which, at just two years old is the newest track on the album. 

While St. James has been consistently writing music since he was a youngster—releasing his first solo album, “Doldrums,” while he was still in high school—over the past several years he’s devoted most of his professional career to collaborative efforts, from the desert rock trappings of Juan Wayne to the Strokes-inflected Fast Times to the alt-country leanings of Lucky, his most recent endeavor.

While St. James said those partnerships have been deeply rewarding, they also impelled him to revisit his back catalog. His last solo release, the wonderfully nostalgic “Light After Darkness,” was released nearly five years ago, an unexpectedly lengthy break between records.

“I made this choice when I was a teenager that this is what I was going to do,” said St. James. “There have been some successes, and maybe some failures, but it’s brought me to all these amazing different places and I’ve had so many great experiences. I made this agreement with myself when I was young that I would stay committed to this, and, in the past couple of years I’ve really been focused on playing with others in bands. That’s been great, but it’s also taken me away from the kind of thing I wanted to do when I first started, which is to put out music under my own name. You know, I’ve gone too far down this road to not honor all the time and effort I put into making my own music.” 

As evidenced by the Vol. 1 name on this batch of albums, St. James has plenty more songs to release. He’s planning on putting out at least two more compilations of older material while continuing to work on new music. By drawing down on that backlog, he can renew his focus on songwriting—a sort of creative clearing of the cobwebs. St. James said he hopes to issue some of those newly penned songs for a proper album later this year. 

When that new release comes out, it will add to a sprawling and impressive inventory, reflecting that vow St. James made to himself when he was just a kid—to see this life through as a creative person. 

“I’m hoping I don’t overload people with all this music, but I think I need to put everything out at this point,” said St. James. “I’m looking to get as much done as possible. It’s funny, because I’ve been doing this so long, but this is a way of giving me a little more courage, I guess, with my personal output. I’m ready to put myself out there again.”

Andrew St. James “Home Demos, Vol.1” is available for purchase on Bandcamp here.

The Reds, Pinks and Purples Returning With Another Stellar Album, “Acknowledge Kindness”

Photo Credit: Samara Dun

“No sunshine / Darkness at noon.”

Starting off an album with such an unremittingly bleak lyric is an incredibly bold move, even without considering that the line references a novel written about the dangers of totalitarianism. 

In the hands of a lesser talent, that couplet could come off as self-serious or melodramatic, but we’re talking about Glenn Donaldson here, the maestro of the San Francisco dream pop outfit the Reds, Pinks and Purples. Enveloping that opening line in a misty haze of warm feedback and acoustic guitar movements and delivering it with his soft and plaintive vocal styling, Donaldson somehow manages to sound inspiring and hopeful—like it’s a knowing gesture from a kindred spirit. 

Ultimately, that track—“Is It You, or Is It Them”—which kicks off the Reds, Pinks and Purples newest album, “Acknowledge Kindness,” evolves into an anthem of pure empathy, with Donaldson wondering in the end, “if you’re alright.” The song is a stunning way to introduce the album and the latest example of Donaldson’s unparalleled talent for wringing stirring and soaring emotions out of sad, ruminative ballads.

“I think I’ve resolved myself to writing miserable songs,” said Donaldson. “But I think I do it with some sense of wit. And there are enough twists and turns to the songs that make them interesting. I just lean into what I know best, which is writing big, emotive music.”

Donaldson specializes in writing strangely accessible pop tunes, but there are entire worlds to each track. His songs are imbued with atmosphere, layered with meticulous details that add depth and profundity to melodies and hooks that are inherently approachable. 

He takes a shoegaze application to song structure—marrying the ugly and the beautiful—without the maximalist, blown out noise of that genre. In the vein of acts like Spiritualized, Red House Painters or Low, Donaldson starts with a simple foundation—a small piano piece or minor guitar chord—and adds synths, samples and other DIY wrinkles that create lush, verdant sonic landscapes. Call it art pop or slowcore, but there is something undefinable and unique about the Reds, Pinks and Purples.

Throughout his prolific career—which long predates his more recent success with the Red, Pinks and Purples—Donaldson has mined a prodigious back catalog of singles-sounding tracks to assemble his records. But for “Acknowledge Kindness,” which will be released on April 24 through Fire Records, he took on a more focused direction. 

“I think this album has been the most deliberate Reds, Pinks and Purples one I’ve made,” said Donaldson. “I really spent months working on this one, whereas in the past, I’d kind of post something on Bandcamp as soon as a song was done, so I wouldn’t obsess over it too much. With ‘Acknowledge Kindness,’ I tried to create each song with an atmosphere that would be less immediate. I wanted people to sit with these songs for a bit.”

These are profound songs for sure—dealing with loss, nostalgia, uncertainty and doubt—but Donaldson is no mordant bummer. For every strikingly sad detail, there is a flash of humor. 

A perfect example of that approach is “Emo Band,” a standout track from “Acknowledge Kindness.” Seemingly a snarky riposte about pitiable, aging rockers, upon closer inspection, the song morphs into a kindly ode to those who refuse to give up on their dreams.

“I feel like American culture really pushes artists out a certain age,” said Donaldson. “I think that’s started to change in the last decade, especially in Europe, but there is this sense like, you have a band in college and then you give it up. There’s a little self-parody in there for sure, as someone who’s in a band and definitely not in college anymore.”

In addition to those fully formed character sketches, “Acknowledge Kindness” sprinkles in plenty of references to the Richmond District, the sleepy San Francisco neighborhood that has emerged as a flourishing and dynamic artistic center, due in large parts to residents like Donaldson. Tracks like “Blue Heron Lake” and “Houses” implicitly reference the neighborhood, and there is a misty, salt-speckled feel to the songs that’s reminiscent of the western community. Donaldson records in his home studio, meaning the Richmond can literally be heard in his songs.

“There are actual bird sounds throughout the record, because I record with my windows open,” said Donaldson. “If you’re listening on headphones, you’ll hear the birds coming at the end of tracks. So yeah, the Richmond is literally leaking into the recording.”

Although not an official record release show, the Reds, Pinks and Purples will perform for the first time following the debut of “Acknowledge Kindness” with an April 29 show at the 4 Star Theater (in the Richmond, of course) opening for American Moon and Mo Dotti. 

Donaldson said he’s working on additional live plans for 2026, although he concedes that, given the current dismal state of world affairs, it’s a strange time to be embarking on grand tours.  

“It’s a little hard to get into the mindset of, like, we’re gonna bring joy and happiness to people when the fucking world is on fire,” said Donaldson. “But we’ll figure out a way to make it happen.”

It may be odd, yes, but in many ways, the Reds, Pinks and Purples are the perfect band for the moment. If anyone can find a way to identify and extract some communal bliss out of these woebegone times, it’s Glenn Donaldson.

Show Details:
The Reds, Pinks and Purples with American Moon and Mo Dotti
Where: 4 Star Theater
When: 8 p.m., Wednesday, April 29
Tickets: $20, available here.

“Acknowledge Kindness” is available for pre-order on Bandcamp here.

British Act Westerman Aims to Bring Wide Range of Emotions to Rickshaw Stop Show

Photo Credit: Eric Scaggiante

Just hours before he was set to embark on an extensive North American tour, Will Westerman—the British native who records and performs under the moniker Westerman—was hit with a jarring bit of news. His bandmate and creative partner, Daniel McIntyre—a multi-instrumentalist responsible for numerous elements of the group’s live sound—was denied a Visa, suddenly casting significant doubt about how Westerman would pull off these shows.

Westerman had actually never even met in person with his touring drummer, Jacob Grissom—the only other band member who was cleared to tour—which made matters all the more difficult. Yet despite the incredible challenges presented by the last-minute roadblock, Westerman set out to make the best of a terrible situation, as he and Grissom engaged in a three-day crash course before the tour to determine how to play his songs as a two-piece outfit.

“Obviously, I wish this hadn’t happened, but at the same time, there’s always good that comes from these kinds of situations,” said Westerman. “It was kind of nice to strip these songs completely—to take everything away and then figure out how to rebuild the song in a way that makes sense. It’s kind of been incredible in a way, because it’s a reminder that there is no definitive way of playing a piece of music. I’m not going to lie—those first shows have been stressful, but the tour has really ended up being amazing.”

If any musician could be capable of paring back their sound under such inauspicious circumstances, it would be Westerman. Since his stirring, critically lauded 2020 debut, “Your Hero Is Not Dead,” Westerman has fearlessly explored avenues of minimalism and austerity, coercing atmospheric and ethereal sounds out of songs that are unfussy and skeletal. He is a worthy heir of his songwriting idol, Mark Hollis, the creative genius behind Talk Talk, which essentially invented the post-rock genre with their dual masterpieces “Spirit of Eden” and “Laughing Stock.”

“I love the way that he [Hollis] embraced space—how he left behind the ideas of rigid pop music,” said Westerman. “Something that always sticks with me is how he proved that space doesn’t mean emptiness.”

After spending extensive time working on his sophomore album, the ambitious “An Inbuilt Fault,” Westerman re-embraced the more cavernous, Dadaistic nature of Hollis for his most recent record, last year’s “A Jackal’s Wedding.” His current tour is in support of that album, and on April 4, he’ll perform at the Rickshaw Stop. He’ll be joined by opener Otto Benson, whose most recent album, “Peanut,” is one of the best releases of 2026.

Westerman wrote the album in large part about his time living in Greece, where he has called home intermittently for the past several years. His most recent experience was a five-week stay in Hydra, an island off the coast of Athens. Despite its relatively withdrawn production style, “A Jackal’s Wedding” has an undercurrent of warmth and brightness, imbued by a steady stream of billowing synth basslines. 

Westerman said the sonic template was inspired by the unique brightness of the Athens skyline—a blaring beacon of light set against a countryside that can be overwhelmingly dark in the evening. Those feelings were amplified during the transition from dawn to night, when the sun setting added to the explosion of colors.

“There’s a kind of crazy over-saturation effect as the light is changing,” said Westerman. “I’d be going for a walk in the hills over Athens and there were these extreme visual sensations. I really wanted to translate that feeling musically into the record, to balance the light and dark sounds in a more pronounced way.

One powerful way Westerman is able to evince those feelings of polarity is through his voice, a rangy, melancholic instrument that conjures a range of emotions. On the XTC-inspired “PSFN,” Westerman sounds lilting and inspired, a contrast to the somber, reflective moments of tracks such as “Spring” and the opening dirge, “S. Machine.”

“I really try and play around with the registers because they can engender quite different feelings—I’ve been doing that most of my life,” said Westerman. “Certain songs have to be sung lower, just because I’m aiming for a specific emotion. Others have to be higher, for the same reason. Some of the songs just wouldn’t make sense for me if I didn’t sing them in a particular manner.”

With just one other member in tow for the tour, Westerman is wielding that formidable asset in ever more creative ways. Fortunately, he’s not one to bury his vocals underneath a wave of guitars or dissonant feedback, so these live performances are even more of a showcase for him to elicit that boundless range of audience sentiments from his delivery.

“Any time you go out on tour it’s a journey—and I mean that in more ways than one,” said Westerman. “Obviously, this journey has been different, because we’ve dealt with some difficulties. But, it’s still incredibly rewarding.”

Show Details:
Westerman with Otto Benson
Where: Rickshaw Stop
When: 8:45 p.m., Saturday, April 4
Tickets: $34, available here.

In Photos: Perfume Genius at the Castro Theater

Mike Hadreas, the dynamic, ever-evolving musician who performs as Perfume Genius, stopped by San Francisco on March 26 for a rousing show at the recently renovated Castro Theatre.

Touring behind last year’s critically acclaimed release, “Glory,” Hadreas and his band powered through his peerless catalog, playing both newer and older hits, ranging from his defiant dance anthem “Queen” to the tender ballad “Me & Angel” from Glory. 

Broken Dreams Club photographer Aaron Levy-Wolins captured the special night. All photos here are credited to him:

Live Review: Sam Smith At The Castro Theatre

Sam Smith, the acclaimed British singer and songwriter, recently capped off a staggering 20-night residency at the newly remodeled Castro Theater.

Broken Dreams Club photographer Aaron Levy-Wolins attended the final show of this impressive run on March 14. Here is his dispatch and photos from that memorable night:

In a glorious final performance at the newly-renovated and slam-packed Castro Theater, Sam Smith performed with gorgeous grace.

Donning a long, gray trenchcoat with a massive collar and an oversized rose on their left shoulder, Sam walked on stage to a huge roar from the crowd, singing one of their many hit songs, 2014’s “I’m Not the Only One.”

Holding the microphone invitingly at the chorus, the crowd burst into song.

“You say I’m crazy, but you don’t think I know what you’ve done,” hundreds sang in unity. “But when you call me baby…” at which point Sam rejoined, “I know I’m not the only one.”

Sam’s final show, his 24th straight, was another sellout night at the historic theater in San Francisco’s gayborhood. And while they expressed, honestly and humorously, that they were “fucking tired,” they told the crowd that they felt mixed emotions in ending the run of shows.

“Leaving this place, leaving tomorrow, it's a strange feeling,” said Sam. “I don't think I've felt so much love in shows ever in my life.”

Sam said they came out as gay when they were very young, and started meeting LGBTQ friends when they moved to London.

“But for me,” said Sam, “I have never, ever felt the gay community until I came here to the Castro nearly 20 years ago,” prompting cheers and calls of “We love you!”

Sam, long-known for their sad ballads about heartbreak, surprised the crowd with a new, unreleased song, called “My Guy,” likely referring to his boyfriend Christian Cowan. 

“I'm sorry to say but recently I've been feeling really in love,” said Sam, which got cheers from the crowd.

After performing the happier, hopeful song Sam strut toward the front of the stage, saying, “Now enough of the happy shit, let's get back to the depressing stuff,” performing “Too Good at Goodbyes.”

As they performed more songs, they slowly unbuttoned and eventually removed their coat, revealing a black ruffle-neck blouse with the top half unbuttoned, showing their chest hair, a good match for their thick beard and mustache with the ends twisted. Their silky, breathy voice performed their songs a little slower than in the studio recordings, creating a sensual aura as Sam rocked their hips and slithered their hands through the air and along their body, continuing the concert with “Promises” and “Dancing With a Stranger.”

Sam excited the crowd with a jolt of excitement, saying, “Do you believe in the gay power?” The pace quickened as they sang “I’m Not Here to Make Friends,” off their 2023 album “Gloria.” Drag queens, including Peaches Christ – who often emcees queer events – flooded the stage and danced with Sam.

A few songs and a costume change later, Sam returned to stage to a dramatic piano solo and seemingly emerged from a powerful white light and fog that engulfed the stage, wearing an Emerald City-green dress with a massive green cape that they stretched out on their arms like wings and somberly belted “HIM,” a song where a boy seemingly comes out as gay to God.

As the song ended, the white and blue hues on stage turned dark and red. Sam’s reverence and seeming-scared demeanor disappeared, replaced by a sharp sense of confidence. The ethereal, godly feeling of “HIM” was replaced with a devilishly hot atmosphere. Lights flashed, beats slowly pulsed and a siren sounded before a low-pitched piano introduced the climactic moment of the show: the Grammy Award-winning song “Unholy.”

Sam waved their fingers and rocked around the microphone stand as they sang, tilting their head back to sing with the microphone above them. During the chorus line, their voice seemed to mingle with a feminine, harmonizing voice singing, “he left his kids at” and “so he can get that.” Sam then welcomed “Unholy” featured artist Kim Petras onto the stage. Petras, who had a sold-out show at the Castro Theater the following day, wore a shiny, short white dress and carried a matching handbag and sang her solo verse before rejoining Sam for two harmonizing chorus refrains. 

Sam ended the show with their most-popular song, “Stay With Me,” and another new, unreleased song “Hold On.”

“One day, you’re gonna find yourself a river,” sang Sam, “and I’ll be waiting on the other side.”

R.E. Seraphin’s Re-Issued Albums Offer Fresh Glimpse At Older Classics

In the annals of album release dates, March 13, 2020 has to go down in history as one of least fortuitous days in history.

Do some quick research and you’ll notice that it happens to coincide almost directly with the onset of the global Covid-19 pandemic—not exactly the best time to promote an album, what with the entire world being shut down.

So, it should come as no surprise that Bay Area songwriter R.E. Seraphin recently decided to re-issue his debut solo effort, “Tiny Shapes,” which was originally introduced to the public on that miserably fateful day. That album is being packaged with “A Room Forever,” Seraphin’s follow-up EP that came out a few months after his debut (and yeah, right in the meat of the pandemic as well.)

“When I originally released these records, I had no real way of promoting them,” said Seraphin. “I did a few live streams, posted a little bit on Instagram and had a few very nice people write about the album on some blogs, but for the most part, it felt pretty anti-climactic at the time.” 

It’s an utter shame that the releases fell under the radar, because they showcase the songwriting approach that has made Seraphin one of the Bay Area’s most consistently vibrant musicians. 

Wielding the power-pop hooks of bands like Squeeze, Big Star and Cheap Trick with the lo-fi aesthetics and leisurely pacing of outfits such as the DBs and the Feelies, Seraphin has a preternatural feel for writing imminently catchy melodies. He’s equally adept at creating jangly fuzz rock tunes in the vein of Teenage Fanclub (“Safe to Say”) as he is making noir-ish, slinky synth pieces like (“Pillar of Shame.”)

Fortunately, those songs are now being brought back to the forefront, with the new reissuing of the album, which Seraphin is putting on his Take a Turn Records, the label he operates with fellow musician Luke Robbins. 

Seraphin said it was an enlightening experience to revisit the songs. Despite the albums only coming out about six years ago, his life has changed dramatically since their release. 

“In a sense, it did feel like I was looking back at a different person,” said Seraphin. “I was in a totally different part of my life. I hadn’t had children yet, which is a major development, as any parent will tell you. But I was just in a different headspace overall. I had recently dissolved my previous project [the Talkies] and so I was very loose and limber creatively. There was this kind of impetus to record these songs within this short period of my life to kind of usher in this new creative stage for me.”

The pairing of the “Tiny Shapes” and “A Room Forever” is remarkably cohesive, given the stylistic differences between the two releases. Whereas “Tiny Shapes” leans into brightly shaped, ebullient guitar rock numbers, “A Room Forever” is brooding and contemplative, with Seraphin employing melancholic synth movements, a more austere soundscape and a deeper vocal register. One album is the summer, the other its autumnal companion.

“I do think the two albums are very different, both in terms of the songwriting and the presentation,” said Seraphin. “A Room Forever” was essentially just recorded on my phone in my bedroom, so it was very skeletal. But I think they complement each other in an interesting way—I don’t think there is this jarring transition when going from one album to the next.”

Seraphin is incredibly prolific—in addition to contributing to countless Bay Area records, he also plays in The Pennys and frequently releases albums under his own name—and one can hear an evolution in his playing style and approach since “Tiny Shapes” and “A Room Forever” were released, but there are plenty of his hallmarks that remain comfortingly present. His keen sense for lyrical detail, ability to shoehorn pop nuggets out of unconventional places, and his soothing, unhurried vocal delivery have remained constant through the years. 

Much has changed since these two albums were first released, but much has stayed the same—the records are evidence that Seraphin has always tapped into a wellspring of creative energy. While he has no immediate plans to play live shows, with the pandemic long over, he at least has that option now. 

“We’ll see where it goes from here,” said Seraphin. “It’s been nice just to keep things moving along by releasing this album, to keep the momentum going. It’s definitely been a rewarding experience.”

The “A Room Forever” / “Tiny Shapes” album reissue is available for purchase on Bandcamp here.

New Orleans Outfit Twisted Teens Bringing Unique Blend of Sounds to Bay Area Next Week

There is something undeniably unique, thrilling and fresh about listening to “Blame the Clown,” the new release from the New Orleans duo Twisted Teens.

While bearing all the trappings of a gritty, revivalist garage rock band, the group incorporates an array of disparate elements, from hip-hop beats, Appalachia fiddle melodies, electronica flourishes, analog sound samples, and, most noticeably, a pedal steel that weeps and croons, courtesy of guitar player RJ “Razor Ramon” Santos. 

It is a collection of inspirations rarely heard in modern music, but Caspian, the (mononymous) founder and chief songwriter of Twisted Teens, insists that his band is only carrying on the legacy of countless acts before him.

“We are doing what musicians have always done, which is just to combine the cultural influences that are around them,” said Caspian. “For us, it’s the blues, or jazz, punk music, trap, experimental music. If you sit in my living room, you will hear hardcore punk and New Orleans bounce music. You’ll hear fiddle music from the mountains and a lot of Cajun music and brass bands. All of that stuff is literally coming into my window every day. It might sound complicated, but if you think of yourself as a participator in the culture, and not just a curator, it makes perfect sense.”

In support of “Blame The Clown”—an outrageously great new album that is one of the best releases so far in 2026—Twisted Teens will bring their ambitious mélange of sounds to a couple of Bay Area venues next week. On Tuesday, they’ll play at The Knockout in San Francisco’s Mission District and on Wednesday, they’ll head across the Bay to play at Thee Stork Club in Oakland. 

It will be a homecoming for Caspian, who grew up in the Bay Area and lived for years in Santa Cruz, where he formed his folk punk band, Blackbird Raum. Caspian’s first experience with New Orleans came in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, where he squatted in abandoned buildings while busking and meeting musicians from the local community. 

He came back to the Bay Area for a stint, but eventually settled on New Orleans as his fulltime home in 2015. He quickly fell in love with the vast musical multiculturalism of the city, in particular the Holy Cross neighborhood where he lives.

“We feel like this album could only exist in a three block radius—I don’t think we could make this record anywhere else,” said Caspian. “I’m not from New Orleans, so I’m not about to say that this is about representing the city’s culture, but I can tell you about the neighborhood we live in and the community we have and the influences that are filtering through the air.”

It was in that creatively vibrant community that Caspian met Santos, a pedal steel player whose mournful, wailing slide playing provides Twisted Teens with its signature sound—a plaintive, yet raucous output that makes you want to dance a jig while artfully chugging your $2 beer. Those pealing guitar movements perfectly compliment Caspian’s gruff, raspy vocals—an ideal instrument to deliver his outrageous and uproariously funny narratives of characters living on the fringes of society.

“Blame the Clown” is populated with stories of down-on-their-luck drifters, desperate vagabonds, impish tricksters and manic individuals trying to navigate the perils of modern day living. While some of the tales clearly stray into satire, there is always a palpable sense of empathy to Caspian’s character sketches.

Take, for example, the main actor in “100 Bill is Gone,” a tragicomedy standout track about losing a precious wad of cash to a guy “who disappeared around the corner.” On its face, the song is about an illicit act gone awry, but Caspian imbues the track with a deep pathos, particularly when he sings about “working hard, every night” for that stolen money.

“That song is not judgmental—I’m not trying to throw shade at anyone who might be into drug use or sex work or anything,” said Caspian. “I hang out with people who smoke crack and I have friends who go to the gym every day—all sides of high and low.” 

The album reflects Caspian’s avowedly outsider point of view. He expresses disdain at all artifice and has zero patience for the grubby business side of the music industry. Caspian said the band is getting newfound attention, however, from those seedier elements, following a recent laudatory Pitchfork review. In that praiseworthy piece, the writer Nina Corcoran—one of the best in the field—heaped kudos on the band, exclaiming that Twisted Teens “shoot from the hip when writing punk songs and play with the precision of an in-house country band.”

Caspian said he appreciated the attention, but he reiterated that the spotlight would have no effect whatsoever on how the band goes about their daily life.

“It’s nice to have these people in your corner, folks who have dragged us up from nothing,” said Caspian. “We’re not out making Instagram reels or calling journalists—we're just making catchy music. And if people come out for us, that’s great, but we obviously don’t believe in the folks who just smell dollar signs. They’re going to be disappointed in my willingness to participate, because I’m not broke enough to compromise anything.”

Caspian said that Twisted Teens have at least a hundred songs recorded and are excited about bringing more music to the masses—but only in the way that feels natural and organic.

“The key is creating your own culture and your own community,” said Caspian. “And if you can figure a way to blow up off that while still owning your own music and identity, you’ve done your job.”

Show Details:
Twisted Teens with Croissant and George Jr and the 9/11’s
Where: The Knockout
When: 8 p.m., Tuesday, March 10
Tickets: $12, available at the door

Twisted Teens with Garras Sucias and Healers
Where: Thee Stork Club
When: 8 p.m., Wednesday, March 11
Tickets: $13, available here.

Bay Area Album Spotlight: Mikal Cronin “II”

Here’s the latest entry from my recurring column highlighting great local albums. 

This month, I’m featuring “II by Mikal Cronin. A talented mult-instrumentalist and longtime Ty Segall collaborator, Cronin was a criminally underrated part of the San Francisco garage rock scene from earlier this century. 

He stood out among his peers for his ability to infuse poignancy and delicacy into the more abrasive and blown-out leanings of garage rock. His highwater mark came in 2013, with the release of his second album, a stunning LP that reflected his boundless range and versatility. “II” is not only Cronin’s finest record to date, it’s the best album to emerge from San Francisco’s prolific and bygone garage rock era.

Read more about what makes “II” so special here:

For a brief moment in time, San Francisco was the garage rock capital of the world.

It always seemed like a slight aberration, since the city’s musical history was braced more in psychedelia, punk and twee pop, as opposed to places with longstanding cultures of garage rock, such as Detroit or Memphis.

Regardless, in the late aughts and early 2010s, San Francisco was home to a dizzying collection of scrappy, scuzzy underground bands, from Sic Alps to the Sandwitches to Sonny and the Sunsets and the Fresh and Onlys, with the twin titans of Thee Oh Sees and Ty Segall looming above all. The exciting scene was captured in perfect detail by Pitchfork’s Aaron Leitko, who introduced the country to a culture that locals had long known.

Despite all its wondrous exploits, the garage rock era in San Francisco was definitely marked by a certain kind of roguish machismo—outside of the Sandwitches, all the bands featured in Leitko’s stories were fronted by dudes, and those groups’ live shows were legendary for their aggressiveness and abrasiveness. 

But for the softer fellas (that would be me!) who preferred a little more melody and little less yawp!, there was always a more viable alternative—the perennially underrated, habitually overlooked troubadour of the scene—Mikal Cronin.

Cronin’s self-titled debut album had plenty of raucous, hair-raising anthems in his line with his rowdier brethren, but there were also quieter, more hushed moments on the record that offered a tantalizing glimpse into another direction. Tracks like “Get Along” and, in particular, the drone masterpiece, “Slow Down,” turned down the fuzz and amped up the introspection, establishing Cronin as a unique and interesting addition to an ecosystem bursting with raw talent.

It wasn’t until his follow up album, the aptly titled “II,” that Cronin made his mark as the most well-rounded, engaging and creative songwriter of his formidable cadre. Released in 2013, “II” signified the high-water mark of San Francisco’s garage rock scene, showcasing what could be made possible when earnest emotionality was combined with high-energy guitar antics. It’s a stunning, forceful and impassioned document of the moment.

From the beginning of the album, it’s clear that Cronin—a talented multi-instrumentalist equally capable of playing the saxophone as he was the guitar—was onto something different—and better—with “II.” The clarion clear piano plinks that introduce album opener “Weight,” are almost transgressive in their softness—an immediate statement that louder doesn’t always mean better. That song is adorned with glittering chorus harmonies, reminding listeners again that Cronin can actually sing (not exactly a requirement for the scene.)

The following track, “Shout it Out,” might be Cronin’s finest song in his impressive, expansive catalog. A power pop gem with through-the-roof choruses, the number perfectly encapsulates the frustrated ennui of being young and desperate for direction. “Peace of Mind” is another brilliant ballad, imbued with weeping strings and lapping acoustic guitars, further distancing Cronin from the feedback-laden approach of his contemporaries. 

“Peace of Mind” is the perfect transition to the back half of the album, which is steeped in contemplative, thoughtful pieces. “Don’t Let Me Go” is an austere, hushed plea for reconciliation, while “I’m Done Running From You,” looks at a crumbling relationship from a different angle—that of a jilted lover finally embracing their own independence.

Album closer, “Piano Mantra,” is, well, exactly that, a gorgeous, heart-stricken coda on an album filled with tear-jerkers. Cronin removes all artifice in that poignant piece, beautifully mapping out the existential exhaustion we all feel with the couplet, “I learn hard, I’m tired, I’m sick I’m broke up / You find out what’s gone just when it’s used up.”

While Cronin’s sensitive side is on full display on “II,” there are still plenty of straight-up bangers on the album, such as “See It My Way” and “Am I Wrong.” But on this record, he displayed how a beating heart is just as important as a clenched fist.

While “II” was rapturously received, Cronin never really garnered the recognition of his Laguna Hills schoolmate Segall or Thee Oh Sees’ John Dwyer. While those two seemed built for the spotlight with their magnetic, amped-up charisma, Cronin always remained shyer and much more comfortable on the periphery. His follow-up albums to “II”—the thematic, “III” and the bucolic “Seeker”—were nearly as strong, but it’s been seven years since his last solo record and he’s spent much more time touring in Segall’s band than he has under his own moniker.

He's still engaging in interesting projects, however. Of late, he’s been soundtracking movies while collaborating with zeitgeisty comedians Tim Robinson and Conor O’Malley, gleefully transitioning from indie rock to lo-fi midi pop in the process. 

Like many of the musicians who once comprised the S.F. garage rock community, Cronin now lives in Los Angeles (I mean, it’s where he’s from—can’t blame him for moving back!) He always did seem like more of an outlier in that scene, but one who strangely felt the most San Franciscan of them all—a shrinking, sensitive type who still aimed to have a good time. It always felt good to claim him as one of our own.

The San Francisco garage rock heyday seems like ages ago now, but that prolific period left us with an endless amount of classic records. None, however, had the grace, power and emotional heft of Mikal Cronin’s “II”—the finest record to be released from that formidable time period.

“II” by Mikal Cronin is available for purchase on Bandcamp here.

Christopher Owens Coming Back to SF For Noise Pop Festival

The world of indie rock is deeply populated with tragic musings centered on the “what if” myth.

What if the Exploding Hearts opted to stay in San Francisco for the night, instead of driving back to Portland after their final performance at Bottom of the Hill?

What if Jeff Buckley never took a swim in the Wolf River Harbor on that fateful spring day?

What if Jay Reatard had managed to curb his self-destructive tendencies?

For fans of the beloved San Francisco duo, Girls, those kinds of existential questions are an integral part of their lore. We are left to ponder what the group could have accomplished if they did not break up after a spectacular but all-too-brief run, a meteoric five-year dash that included two seminal albums and one perfect EP (the namesake for this website.) 

If the band had not dissolved so early in their career, could we have seen even more greatness? If Girls had endured, would Chet “JR” White still be alive today?

It's a fool’s errand to engage in such conjecture, but we do it, nonetheless. And Chris Owens, the founder, chief songwriter and sole surviving member of the band, can’t help but muse on the possibilities as well. 

Coming off a stunning solo album, the redemptive, inspiring 2024 release, “I Wanna Run Barefoot Through Your Hair,” Owens is currently combing through his bountiful collection of back material to put together for his next release, a process that has him thinking often of how White would have produced and crafted this batch of music, and how Girls might exist in his bandmate’s absence.

“Even though a lot of these songs were written years ago, dating back to the Girls days, the two of us never really got to do anything with them together,” said Owens. “So, whenever anyone asks about reviving Girls—or whatever that would entail—that’s when I really think more than ever about what it would be like for JR to be the producer of these songs. I just couldn’t see myself putting these songs out as Girls without his input. It would just feel really, really wrong—I think it would be more for other people than myself. But it does make me wonder how we would have approached everything if things were different.”

Owens has soldiered on in White’s absence, overcoming a seemingly endless barrage of obstacles to push forward as a solo songwriter. On Friday, he’ll perform at the Swedish American Hall as part of the Noise Pop Festival, the annual multi-day gathering that takes place in venues across the Bay Area. 

The show will mark a return to San Francisco for Owens, who now lives in New York after spending more than a decade here. The site has a special significance for Owens, as Café du Nord—the downstairs neighbors of Swedish American Hall, hosted Girls’ inaugural performance.

“We had our first ever Girls show at Café du Nord,” said Owens. “And even when we started playing bigger venues—like Great American Music Hall—we always made sure to schedule shows back at Café du Nord and Swedish American Hall. I have really special memories of playing at those places and can’t wait to go back.”

Returning to the city where he found fame through Girls brings back bittersweet memories for Owens. No artist did a better job chronicling the euphoria and joy of being young and independent in San Francisco, and conversely, no one else captured the letdown and sadness of seeing your dear friends depart.

“It’s crazy, and I always say this to people, but when my friends started to leave, I was genuinely shocked,” said Owens. “Like, I thought we were all going to be here forever, doing our thing together. That way my naïve sort of thought process, because of course that couldn’t happen. At the time, though, I didn’t really understand that things were bound to change.”

Owens said he doesn’t really maintain close contact with anyone who still calls San Francisco home, although he keeps in touch with former Girls touring members like Ryan Lynch and John Anderson. By the end of his time in San Francisco, he had fallen on increasingly hard times, living in his car while busking for spare change.

“When things got really rough, there were only like 4 – 5 people I actually talked to regularly,” said Owens. “There were some really difficult times when I felt people just switched it up on me. It was too tough for them to deal with.”

As has been covered extensively, Owens has moved on from those low points in San Francisco, relocating to the East Coast where he has found a new sense of stability. “I Wanna Run Barefoot Through Your Hair” was his first solo album in nearly a decade and it received widespread critical praise. When Owens first returned to San Francisco in late 2024 with a show at the Chapel, the performance turned into a virtual singalong, with crowd members joining in whenever he dipped into the Girls back catalog.

That show offered a tantalizing look back to the “what if” scenarios of Girls. But it was also a reminder to appreciate Owens for all he’s offered over the years as an artist. His last album proved beyond a doubt that his creative pool has not run dry at all, and while we will never see the likes of Girls again, having Owens continue to play the role of the eternally romantic troubadour is something we should never take for granted.

Show Details:
Noise Pop presents Christopher Owens with Sedona and Asha Wells
Where: Swedish American Hall
When: 8 p.m., Friday, February 20
Tickets: $36.54, available here.