Metal Legends Baroness Playing First Two Albums at GAMH On September 17

Photo Credit: Ebru Yildiz

They always say it will be just like riding a bike—everything will come flooding back in no time.

But what if said “bike” is a devilishly intricate set of prog-metal treatises? How are you supposed to casually wade back into 90 minutes of complex guitar arrangements, strange time signatures and countless tempo and time changes?

That was the dilemma facing John Dyer Baizley and his band, the post-metal legends Baroness, as they attempted to unpack their first two albums, “Red” and “Blue,” for a tour in which they’d play those classics in their entirety.

“It was definitely interesting revisiting these albums that were, like, psychotically overloaded with parts and technical movements,” said Baizley. “But there is something wonderful to me in the challenge of playing this music. It’s like we’re on the edge of our seats every time we play these songs—you kind of just hold on for dear life and see where it takes you.”

On September 17, Baroness will bring that white-knuckle experience to the Great American Music Hall, where they’ll play a setlist that includes all of the tracks from those early compendiums.

Tireless road warriors—you can find Baroness playing in the most unlikeliest of locales throughout the country and beyond—the band is currently in-between album cycles, with their latest release, “Stone,” now nearly two years old. That itch to constantly get out and perform before their fans, led to the idea of Baroness revisiting their early work.

“Over the course of our career, we’ve really tried to avoid doing any gimmicks or delving into nostalgia, but we’ve also discussed the idea of exploring our back catalog more,” said Baizley. “We are working musicians—we tour as much as humanly possible, so from a practical standpoint, it made sense to dedicate ourselves to this idea at this time, since we’re currently in a bit of a lull in our album support cycle.” 

The fact that neither album is celebrating a noteworthy anniversary—“Red” came out in 2007 and “Blue” arrived in 2009— actually made the touring idea more palatable, Baizley said, as it would remove any notion that the band was trying to cash in on some arbitrary milestone.

Regardless of the motivation, fans will be in for an immersive and unique auditory gift hearing the older records played live. While Baroness always played selections from the two albums in their regular live sets, this tour marks the first time in more than a decade that many of the songs from “Red” and “Blue” will be performed. Those albums—immediately hailed as paragons of the genre—showcased an insanely ambitious band and hinted at an evolution that would take Baroness beyond the strictures of the metal scene.

“I think when we wrote “Red,” we were absolutely trying to do as much as we could, with what we had at the time,” said Baizley. “And we looked at that as our opening salvo, so we needed to follow up with something even more bold for “Blue.” But after touring those albums nonstop for five years, we realized that we couldn’t maintain that course. We needed to write songs that were more performable.”

The results of that more restrained technical approach were “Yellow & Green” and “Purple,” the towering dual masterpieces of the Baroness genre—ones that saw them further push the boundaries and definitions of what could be termed “metal.” For “Purple,” the band teamed up with indie rock production maestro Dave Fridmann, a partnership that resulted in Baroness earning their first Grammy Nomination, for the song “Shock Me”—a rare industry acknowledgement from a group always outside the edge of conformity.

As great as those later albums are (and there isn’t anything less than an absolute gem in the entire Baroness discography) it’s thrilling to go back to the visceral early days of the band. Tracks like the “Red” album opener “Rays on Pinion” and "Steel That Sleeps the Eye" from “Blue” showcase an absolutely fearless band—one willing to go outrageous lengths to perfect and hone their sound. There is joy in falling utterly lost within the byzantine movements of a song like “Isak,”—a “Red” album standout that illustrates the band’s willingness to explore every conceivable guitar sound.

Those older albums are also a testament to the staying power of Baroness—a band that has experienced its fair share of obstacles. Baizley is the group’s only holdover from the “Red” and “Blue” days, and after a devastating bus accident in 2012—in which several members endured serious injuries—there was a serious question if the group would soldier on. Unsurprisingly, given his convictions, Baizley kept the band together and its current lineup—drummer Sebastian Thomson, guitarist Gina Gleason and bassist Nick Jost—is the most stable in the band’s history.

“When we started this band, I wasn’t capable of looking 20 years into the future,” said Baizley. “But because of what music means to me, I don’t think I ever considered stopping this thing—maybe that was a little stupid of me. My thought process was always this—‘I’m in a band, these songs are very much from my heart and soul, and that makes me proud to go out and perform them.’”

Backed by his stellar bandmates, Baizley will do just that next week in San Francisco—a performance that will surely teeter perilously on the edge of safety—just like riding a bike.

“When I go to a show, I want to see a little chaos and a little magic,” said Baizley. “And that’s what these “Red” and “Blue” gigs have been all about. Just because you know the albums, doesn’t mean the show will be predictable.”

Show Details:
Baroness with Weedeater
Where: Great American Music Hall
When: 8 p.m., Wednesday, September 17 
Tickets: $40.62, available here

Real Estate Touring Behind “11-year, 7-month” Anniversary of Classic Album, “Atlas”

It’s a milestone one can never forget—a special moment in time forever etched in one’s memory.

This isn’t a silver or diamond jubilee we’re talking about. Those are a dime a dozen. 

No—this is something far more important: the 11 year, seven-month anniversary—that time-honored benchmark celebrated by all. This week, Real Estate—the indie-rock institution with ties to the Bay Area—will continue that tradition by embarking on a tour honoring the 139-month birthday of their iconic third album, “Atlas.”

Ok, yeah, we all know that Real Estate just threw out a totally arbitrary date as an excuse to tour behind a beloved album. But as the band’s bassist Alex Bleeker explains, in a world where live music faces endless competition for people’s attention, you gotta dig up something to get the crowds out.

“Yeah, if we’re being frank, this is a great record and an important one for our career, but this is really more a fan service thing,” said Bleeker, who lives in West Marin. “But we’re all about servicing the fans, because that services us, and we love that relationship. We’re always trying to figure out a hook to get people to come to shows—to get off the couch and stop watching Netflix and come see us one more time.

On Friday and Saturday, Real Estate will bring their “Atlas” shows to a couple of Bay Area locales off the traditional road circuit—Felton and Mount Tamalpais (correct, a mountain.) These will be the band’s first shows without longtime guitarist Julian Lynch, who recently announced his defeature from the group under amicable terms.

The Friday show will be at the Felton Music Hall (formerly Don Quixote’s) and the Saturday gig will be part of the annual Sound Summit Festival—a scene music gathering set at the Mountain Amphitheater on Mount Tamalpais that will also include Canadian indie-pop maestros Alvvays and Sacramento veterans Cake.

“For someone who lives in West Marin, it doesn’t get any more local than Mt. Tam,” said Bleeker. “I’ve always wanted to play at Sound Summitt—every year they release the lineup for this fest and we aren’t on it, I get super bummed. So, yeah, can’t wait to play on Saturday.”

While Bleeker will be enjoying the stunning views, fans will get the benefit of hearing one of Real Estate’s most venerable albums. A strikingly consistent band—they’ve truly never released even a mediocre album—“Atlas” saw the band perhaps at the peak of their powers, harnessing the languid rock modicum of the Feelies and the Clean while creating pastoral harmonies reminiscent of XTC and California 60s surf outfits. It’s a standout vehicle in particular for Real Estate guitarist and chief songwriter Martin Courtney, who grew up with Bleeker in New Jersey.

“Atlas” received one of the highest rated reviews of the year from Pitchfork and landed on countless best-of lists, capitalizing on a moment when indie rock truly was in the Zeitgeist.

“We all absolutely love this album, but I also think it benefits from the time and place of things,” said Bleeker. “I often wonder if our last album, [2024’s] “Daniel” had come out around that time, if it would have received a similar reaction. But yeah, there are all these extra, non-musical things that contribute to a feeling that people have for a particular album, and I can’t deny that, because that’s true for myself as a music fan.”

Many of the songs on the album never fell out of the band’s live rotation, and a few—“Talking Backwards” and “Had to Hear”—rank among Real Estate’s most-played tracks. “Talking Backwards,” a flitting, ebullient pop piece about relationship miscommunications, actually almost never made it on to the album, according to Bleeker.

“That was this classic case of us bringing the album to our record label and them being like ‘we’re not hearing a single here,’” said Bleeker. “And so, Martin went back into the lab and banged out ‘Talking Backwards’ . I knew right away that one was right on the money. It sounds super cliché, but yeah, it was one of those moments when everyone benefits.”

In addition to those tracks, “Atlas” included one of Bleeker’s most memorable songwriting contributions to Real Estate. “How Might I Live,” is a mournful, forlorn ballad about doubt and despair, punctuated by Bleeker’s wounded and lamenting opening line, “How might I live to betray you?”

While the song has some hopeful undertones, the themes nonetheless are weighty and deep, but Bleeker said it hasn’t been too difficult revisiting that track.

“I can connect with the emotions that I was feeling when I wrote that song and I remember exactly what it meant to me at the time, but once it’s written and recorded, it just takes on a different energy and life,” said Bleeker. “That’s one of the things that’s therapeutic about writing—once it becomes a song, it’s like a separate entity, somewhat removed from its original meaning.” 

While not the primary songwriter for Real Estate, Bleeker fronts numerous other projects and on September 27, he’ll play with the West Marin Grateful Dead Appreciation Society (Bleeker is one of foremost Deadheads in the indie rock world) as part of a benefit concert for Mesa Park in Bolinas. Real Estate is also working on new material, which Bleeker said they hope to release next year.

“Obviously, there are a lot of factors beyond our control, but we hope to have something out in 2026,” said Bleeker. “I’ll say it’s very likely we will have a few singles out by this time next year, at the very least.”

For a band as admirably and durably great as Real Estate, the next album will surely be a memorable one, which can only mean one thing: start making your calendars for 2038, when that classic 11-year, seven-month anniversary tour starts.

Show Details:
Real Estate with Subtle Orange
Where: Felton Music Hall
When: 8 p.m., Friday, September 12
Tickets: $41.15, available here. 

Sound Summit Music Festival
Where: Mountain Theater, Mount Tamalpais
When: 11:30 a.m. – 7 p.m., Saturday, September 13
Tickets: $138.50, available here.

Singer-Songwriter Luke Sweeney Playing His Impish New Album At 4-Star Theater on Aug. 29

Photo Credit: Ginger Fierstein

One of the lead singles on Luke Sweeney’s carnivalesque new album, “Novel Tea,” is the puckish, “Subsidize Our Rent,” a cheeky plea to support artists living in a world that is increasingly untenable for creative types.

It feels particularly prescient—not only has their vanishingly small social safety net evaporated even further by devastating federal funding cuts, but algorithmic heavy steaming services have marginalized outsider artists in favor of pop stars and nefarious AI outfits.

And although that track feels wholly of the moment, it was actually written more than five years ago—a sadly clairvoyant statement made by Sweeney that has only gained resonance in the past half-decade.

“I wrote most of these songs a long time ago, and when I went to record them a few years later, I don’t think I changed a single lyric,” said Sweeney, who will play a record release party on August 29 at the 4-Star Theater as part of Andrew St. James’ Fast Times showcase. “The experience of going back to listen to those songs was just really heightened by the current climate. I don’t want to say those songs were prophetic in any way, because I was writing from a real perspective at the time. But those conditions have just grown—I feel like we’re getting more and more crowded, while at the same time getting more and more isolated and lonely. It’s a struggle out there.”

Those are heavy themes for sure, but “Novel Tea” is anything but a bummer album—in fact it’s the exact opposite. Infused with sardonic humor, the record is an impish, picaresque journey, filled with coming-of-age stories, prankish tales and, yeah, the occasional social commentary. 

Set against all these backdrops is Sweeney’s trademark penchant for sonic exploration. Each song is a blurry mix of offbeat instrumentation and whimsical arrangements, creating a Beach Boys-inflected atmosphere that imagines what kind of ingenuity Brian Wilson could conjure with a shoestring budget. 

“A lot of guitarists will insist upon touching the guitar every day—doing the Jimi Hendrick thing of like sleeping with the instrument—and for a long time, I did that kind of thing,” said Sweeney. “But after a while, things change and you get restless with that singular focus. For this album, I was literally using child toy instruments for a lot of the demos, and Robin [MacMillian], who I worked with on this album, just rolled with it. There’s a lot of fantastic musicians out there who takes themselves very seriously, but I’m just not one of them anymore.”

Those Casio-heavy histrionics naturally imbue the album with levity, a mood Sweeney sought to create after the beautiful poignancy of his prior album, “Rishi,” which delved into the tragic death of his daughter.

“It wasn’t so much a response to “Rishi,” but it was more about going back to making a record of songs and stories that didn’t have a specific focus or dedication,” said Sweeney. “There are songs here about my life just like any other record, but the themes are obviously a lot less heavy than ‘Rishi.’”

Some of the songs on “Novel Tea” back 10 years, to when Sweeney was still living in San Francisco (he now resides in Nevada City.) Sweeney said there wasn’t a specific impetus to release the songs now, other than the desire to avoid these tracks collecting “digital dust.” He already has material written for four new albums, so he was eager to address some of his back catalog of songs.

That doesn’t mean that “Novel Tea” is a disjointed collection of odds and ends—there is an uncanny sense of coherence to the tracks, with many of the songs sweetly delving into youthful nostalgia. “Young Kids” is a buoyant synthpop treat, a breezy number filled with faux-strings and paeans to the beauty of fledgling love. “Burn’n Ambition” is a chugging power pop anthem, deftly capturing the wide-eyed wonder of being young, and
“Sum’r Nights,” is a gorgeous ballad reminiscent of the Kinks’ masterpiece, “Waterloo Sunset.” 

Album standout “Probably Me” is a Calypso-inflected chamber pop piece, in which Sweeney humorously details the multiple versions of himself, and the aforementioned “Subsidize Our Rent” has him doing his best Randy Newman impression—all rollicking piano interjection and witty vocal deliveries. The central takeaway of that song “subsidize our rents/when shit gets hard,” is so simple it’s almost koan-like, serving as a reminder again that although many of Sweeney’s subjects—young love, maturation, discovering the world—feel timeless, others are despairingly still topical.

Whether it’s something as direct and literal as a plea for housing assistance or an idea as ephemeral as the fleeting, ineffable nature of adolescence, Sweeney understands that  music is a universal language—a way of actualizing a feeling or emotion that is waiting to be discovered.

“There are things communicated in music that we’re already feeling, but we’re unable to process them until we hear that one song,” said Sweeney. “There’s a certain lyric or a melody or a beat, that just hits us in a certain way, right? All the songs on this album are very personal and I’m not trying to generalize anything. But I try to find that place where we can all feel something together. Even though this album was written year ago, I think the emotions I describe are something we’re all feeling now—maybe even more so than ever.”

Show Details:
Luke Sweeney with Mayya and Andrew St. James
Where: 4-Star Theater
When: 8 p.m., Friday, August 29
Tickets: $14, available here.

Horsegirl and Their Thrilling, Newfound Minimalism, Coming to GAMH on August 16

Photo Credit: Ruby Faye

For years, Penelope Lowenstein, the singer-guitarist of indie rock trio Horsegirl, looked for certain markers to determine if one of the band’s shows was a success. Those signs usually came in the form of frantically dancing crowds, crashing mosh pits and high-decibel roars of approval.

However, in the wake of the band’s recent shift from precocious noise-rock practitioners to minimalist auteurs, Lowenstein has reassessed the merits of a standout performance.

“I feel like my relationship to performing has completely changed from record one to record two,” said Lowenstein. “On this new album, there are slower songs in the set, there are love songs—there is a lot of empty space in the arrangements. Now, I see couples having intimate moments in the audience, or people signing along to the words and it’s such a different feeling. We’re tapping into something much more emotional now, and that’s really wild and fun as a musician to witness.”

That “record one” cited by Lowenstein was Horsegirl’s blistering debut album, “Versions of Modern Performance,” an electrifying blast of feedback and defiant dissonance inspired by acts like Sonic Youth and Television. Recorded while the band—bassist/vocalist Nora Cheng and drummer Gigi Reece round out the trio—were still in their teens, the album garnered widespread critical plaudits and earned the group opening spots on tours for indie rock legends like Pavement and Wilco.

 The band could have easily cloned that formula for their follow-up album, but instead Horsegirl took a daring left-turn, producing a sparse, toned-down and emotionally vulnerable follow-up, this year’s excellent “Phonetics On and On.”

Lowenstein and company will bring their newly found appreciation for restraint to the Great American Music Hall on August 16, where they’ll be joined by fellow minimalist maestros Cindy, the great San Francisco outfit that toured with Horsegirl last year.

For “Phonetics On and On,” which was released in February, Horsegirl pursued negative space and withdrawn, hushed atmospherics in lieu of cranked-out guitar histrionics. Inspired by the pared-down approach of the Welsh collective Young Marble Giants, who released one legendary album, “Colossal Youth,” in 1980, Lowenstein said the group found it thrilling to peel away layers of music until only the most elemental traces remained.

“We took a long break between our albums and it wasn’t something we really verbalized going into making this record, but I think we were all in the mindset of making something super different,” said Lowenstein. “It felt really exciting to us—to create something very minimal as a three-piece. We tried to think about strange ways of using our instruments—using the guitar as a percussion piece and then letting the bass carry the melody. There were so many fun possibilities, just letting different instruments take on these unusual roles.”

The result is an entrancing collection of barebones rock—as equally visceral as the band’s voluminous debut, albeit from a different emotional register. Tracks like “In Twos” and “Julie” are masterclasses in the realm of artful absence, hinting at grand, cathartic payoffs that never arrive. “Sport Meets Sound” is a playful, loping number full of earnest, slightly offset vocal harmonies, and “Well I Know You’re Shy” is another bass-driven piece that revels in its understated approach.

Perhaps the most jarring track on the new album is its most nakedly gorgeous one—the Americana-inflected ballad, “Frontrunner.” Full of thick, Twin Peaks-esque guitar chords and cooing, plaintive vocals, the song is unlike anything in the band’s catalog and represents an exhilarating glimpse into what might lie ahead for Horsegirl.

“We’ve been getting asked a lot about that song, because it is so different for us,” said Lowenstein. “It was from the time when Nora and I lived together and I was having just a terrible day with personal heartbreak—that kind of stuff. We just stayed in the apartment all day together and wrote that song. We ended up recording it basically exactly the same way it sounded when we captured it in our phone’s voice memo function. It’s the sound of two roommates living together who also happen to be in a band.”

All members of the band are still living together, although now they are in New York—removed from their hometown of Chicago, where they were a key member of an absolutely dynamic music scene. Alongside contemporaries like Friko, Lifeguard and Sharp Pins (the former put out one of the best albums of 2024 and the latter two have produced a couple of the finest records of 2025), Horsegirl helped make the midwestern metropolis ground zero for engaging indie rock (it’s also a decidedly family affair—Lowenstein’s brother, Isaac, is the drummer for Lifeguard.)

While forever indebted to Chicago, Lowenstein said the band is excited about living in New York, a change of scenery that mirrors the band’s fresh artistic aesthetic.

“I think it was important for us to move away and find our own footing somewhere,” said Lowenstein. “We’re not teenagers anymore—we needed to find ourselves, to do our own thing. And I think we’re really embracing that right now.”

Show Details:
Horsegirl with Cindy and Godcaster
Where: Great American Music Hall
When: 8 p.m., Saturday, August 16
Tickets: $20/$25 (Sold Out!)

North Carolina Artist Rosali and Her Resolute Tales of Defiance Coming to Rickshaw Stop

Photo credit: Asia Harman

The cover of Rosali’s dazzling 2024 album, “Bite Down,” presents a strange, discomfiting vision. The North Carolina based singer-songwriter (born Rosali Middleman) is only slightly visible behind a blanket of green flora, her expression blended somewhere between demonic smile and anguished howl. 

That delightfully eerie visage is the perfect avatar for the album, a defiant, kiss-off record that champions resoluteness and tenacity in the face of endless challenges. It’s an album about getting up and dusting yourself off, time and again—an act that can be both tragicomic and triumphant.

“I saw a fan write online that the album cover is what healing looks like, and I kind of couldn’t agree more,” said Rosali. “This record is about healing and transformation and sometimes that isn’t pretty. It’s not just a love and light thing—it can be dark and horrible and it can also be funny. The photo is a little bonkers, but so is life.”

Released on the venerable indie rock label Merge Records, “Bite Down” is a showcase for Rosali’s considerable skills, with the album vacillating between billowing country-inflected ballads and knifelike guitar anthems that recall Crazy Horse at their finest. It’s a collection of blunt confessions, candid introspections and breezy declarations—a compendium of an artist searching for solace and finding it in unlikely places.

On Tuesday, Rosali will bring those tunes to the Rickshaw Stop, part of a two-week West Coast tour that will mostly conclude more than a year’s worth of touring behind “Bite Down,” the fourth album released under her mononymous moniker.

“Bite Down” reflects the winding, but ultimately rewarding journey of Rosali, who’s enjoying a second act of sorts as a folk-leaning artist rooted south of the Mason-Dixon line. For years, Rosali was based in Philadelphia, participating in a number of noise-rock and experimental outfits. 

After the dissolution of a longtime relationship and during the onset of the pandemic, Rosali was looking for a change of scenery. She had some friends in the Durham area and decided to visit them during the early days of Covid. Initially intending to stay for just a short visit, Rosali has lived in North Carolina ever since.

Not only did Rosali embrace living in the more bucolic settings of North Carolina, she was serendipitously closer to Merge, which is also located in Durham. After acclimating herself to her new home, Rosali contacted Merge head Mac McCaughan about releasing her new album on the label. McCaughan quickly agreed and “Bite Down” debuted in early 2024, to much critical acclaim.

“It just made sense—I was living down here and I had met Mac before when I was playing in Philly,” said Rosali. “When I had another album ready to record, I just reached out, basically to let know I was down here. Mac agreed to put the album out and they’ve been great since.”

Rosali picked an apt time to make the move, as North Carolina and the American Southeast are quickly turning into the epicenter of “indie country” sound that is having a zeitgeisty moment. Buoyed by Asheville acts like MJ Lenderman and Wednesday and Kentuckians S.G Goodman and Ryan Davis, the scene is making national headlines. With her penchant for pairing confessional, cerebral lyrics with expansive and exploratory sonic landscapes, Rosali is a natural entrant into that cohort.

“I’ve never categorized myself as country music, but I can also see how I fit within the realm,” said Rosali. “I’ve known Ryan [Davis] for many years and I’m really stoked with all the attention he’s getting. I feel a certain kinship with him, since we're both kind of on the older side of this group. But yeah, I feel very much in alignment with what’s happening here and that’s exciting.”

Rosali is quick to credit her partnership with Mowed Down, an Omaha-based band led by David Nance that has played with her on the last two albums. The squawking, feedback-heavy interjections of the backing band provides the perfect complement to Rosali’s unwavering, steady vocal presence. After being introduced by a friend, Rosali toured with Nance while playing with her former band, the Long Hots, in 2019, and the two formed an instant bond.

“It was kind of this adult going to summer camp vibe—where you’re like, ‘wow, this is my new best friend,’” said Rosali. “The whole time was a blast. And toward the end of it, Dave was like ‘we want to be your backing band.’”

For this string of West Coast dates, Rosali is hoping to record some of the performances for a potentially future live release. Once this jaunt is finished, she has a few European festival shows, but she said the plan is to decamp with Mowed Down for some more recording sessions in the near future, continuing the partnership that has been so fruitful.

After years of nestling herself within the more opaque worlds of noise rock and experimental bands, Rosali is excited about embracing the more vulnerable nature of her current outfit.

“I can be a really shy person, so I just didn’t think about putting out solo music for a really long time,” said Rosali. “But once I did, I felt like I had to continue pulling that thread. And I don’t think I can turn back at this point.”

Show Details:
Rosali with Walt McClements
Where: The Rickshaw Stop
When: 8 p.m., Tuesday, August 5
Tickets: $24, available here.

M. Ward, Coming to Bimbo’s on Monday, Specializes in Finding “Light and Shadows”

Photo Credit: Autumn de Wilde

Throughout his celebrated, 25-year career, M. Ward has managed to sound both timeless and timely—feeling completely of the moment and also like a holdover from some lost, distant era. 

His raspy, forlorn vocals and barebones instrumental setup recall mythological figures such as Lead Belly and Hank Williams, but his influence can be clearly felt in contemporary artists like Hayden Pedigo and Ryley Walker.

He's managed to deftly transcend those competing forces—seamlessly bridging disparate eras and epochs—through an uncanny knack for finding common ground. Ward doesn’t try to define or defend that talent—he attributes that gift as something that just happens during his creative process.

“So much of writing is walking blindly into every song, not knowing exactly what you are doing,” said Ward. “I think the most important thing is to not have any fear of what’s going to happen when you’re alone in a room with a guitar.” 

A certain kind of fearlessness has been a core component of all Ward albums, most notably in his 2003 breakout hit, “The Transfiguration of Vincent,” which he’ll play in full at Bimbo’s 365 Club on Monday. That record, made in the wake of his close friend’s death (the titular Vincent), set the template for Ward’s specialty of finding the gray area between then and now—of locating that balance between joy and pain. 

The album has plenty of melancholic moments, but it is never morose or hopeless. Always a skilled wordsmith, Ward’s wry, mordant lyrics provide levity to heavy topics—managing to uncover the absurdity of daily existence, even topics as wholly sacred as love and death.

“When I’m in the writing process and something is too obviously sad or too obviously happy, it just doesn’t have staying power for me,” said Ward, who will also be playing at the Felton Music Hall on Saturday, during his swing through the Bay Area. “If it’s minor chords, singing sad lyrics, with no sense of humor or insight at all, it never really makes it to the studio. I like to have songs that have a good balance of light and shadow.”

Those gradations are found throughout “The Transfiguration of Vincent,” as Ward’s pitch black humor can be found in songs like “Undertaker,” a joyous paean to the wonders of love that is punctuated by the ominous chorus, “Oh but if you're gonna leave/Better call the undertaker.” 

Never are the disparate emotions more profound and heartfelt than in the glowing ode to the album’s subject matter. On “Vincent O’Brien,” Ward plaintively sings, “he only laughs when he's sad/And he's sad all the time, so he laughs the whole night through,” although paired with an uproarious boogie woogie piano and knifing, distorted guitar lines, that line feels more like a celebration than a wake.

The root of the “Transfiguration of Vincent” tour started two years ago, when a friend of Ward’s introduced him to three musicians from Australia, who were fans of the singer-songwriter. Performing as M. Ward and the Undertakers (an ode to the song from the album), the group barnstormed through Australia, Japan, Europe and America’s East Coast. Now, this winding journey has taken them to the West Coast, where they’ll perform a series of shows stretching from New Mexico to Vancouver.

Included in the “Transfiguration of Vincent” setlists is Ward’s unique take on the David Bowie classic, “Let’s Dance,” the penultimate track on the 2003 album. Unlike the original, Ward’s version is a languorous, loping dustbowl tune, with the chorus refrain sounding more like an exhausted sigh of defeat than a glorious act of celebration.

“I was in love with that whole record in high school, but the production on that particular song never spoke to me,” said Ward. “But I always loved the lyrics, so I wanted to see what would happen if you stripped everything back. I started performing it live and got some really interesting reactions. It’s definitely a deconstruction of the song, but I like how it turned out.”

With a tour covering half the globe, it’s already been an eventful year for Ward, but after this string of West Coast shows winds down, he said he’ll focus on writing for his next album, a follow-up to 2023’s “Supernatural Thing.” For that effort, Ward said he’ll decamp to Europe for some recording sessions. 

He’s also put the backburner on his myriad other projects, including She & Him, his long-running duet project with the actress Zooey Deschanel. The last She & Him release was a tribute album to Brian Wilson, who helped contribute vocals to the record. Ward recently attended the funeral for the late Beach Boys legend, who passed away on June 11.

“We were able to work together on several projects,” said Ward. “He was one of the biggest influences of my life. His memorial was beautiful—just a very powerful and very heavy moment.”

Looking back on that event, Ward spoke with a mixture of sadness and gratitude, that same beguiling mix that inflects so much of his work. He said he’s excited to be returning to play San Francisco after a lengthy absence, eager to perform an album that’s both mournful and celebratory, light and dark, modern and ageless.

“It’s never been too painful to revisit that time or this album,” said Ward. “It’s a combination of emotions, and that’s what makes it interesting.”

Show Details:
M. Ward and the Undertakers with Bebe Stockwell
Where: Bimbo’s 365 Club
When: 8 p.m., Monday, July 21
Tickets: $46.36, available here.

Beloved Actor Michael Imperioli Bringing His Band Zopa to The Chapel

Photo Credit: Danny Clinch

Long before he was Christopher Moltisanti or Dominic Di Grasso—even before he was the ill-fated Spider—Michael Imperioli was in a band.

The beloved actor—famed for bringing pathos and complexity to volatile, tragic characters—traces his musical roots back decades, starting with a scrappy two-piece band in the mid-80s that, upon reflection, was likely not destined for greatness.

“Around 1985 or 86, I started this band with a friend that I guess you could categorize as no-wave,” said Imperioli. “There was no singer—it was two guitar players, one electric guitar and me playing an acoustic nylon string guitar, which I really just started playing. I would glue a pickup to the guitar so I could plug into an amplifier. I think we recorded some demos, but they’re lost to the ages, which is probably a good thing.”

Despite that inauspicious start, Imperioli continued to pursue his musical passions in tandem to his acting career. Since 2006, he’s been fronting Zopa, a post-punk trio that will be performing at the Chapel on Tuesday in support of their great new album, “Diamond Vehicle.”  Unlike Imperioli’s short-lived band from the 80s, Zopa’s sound is full and vibrant, a Television-meets-Galaxie 500 blend of lean and lengthy guitar-based expositions.

Imperioli said his love for music goes back to his earliest memories, when he would listen to classic rock bands like Queen and the Beatles with his family. During his teen years, he discovered The Smiths, the legendary Mancunian quartet he said is “still one of the most original bands to ever play,” before transitioning into outfits like Echo and the Bunnymen and REM. Lou Reed—who grew to be a close friend of Imperioli’s—was also a huge presence in his music fandom.

Traces of Reed’s urban insouciance can be heard in the noir-ish sound of “Diamond Vehicle”, including a rangy dual cover of Velvet Underground’s “Ocean” and “Heroin” on the second half of the album. The record is also heavily indebted to the precepts of Tibetan Buddhism. Imperioli has been a noticeable devotee of Buddhism for nearly two decades now and the fundamentals of that religion can be found throughout the music of Zopa, most noticeably in the band name, which is Tibetan for “patience.”

“I kind of stumbled into Buddhism after exploring a bunch of different spiritual paths,” said Imperioli. “It turned out that there was a great Tibetan Buddhist center right near my house where I was living in New York, and my wife and I started going there. I think it resonated with me because it’s not really a religion so much as a teaching of methods working on your mind. There is no theistic element to it—and that stuck with me.”

References to Buddhism are scattered throughout the album. In the Black Rebel Motorcycle Club-esque jam, “Love and Other Forms of Violence,” Imperioli recites a Buddhist mantra known for its “protective and purifying qualities,” and on the jaunting anthem “Red Sky,” Imperioli cites the “seven knots” of the chakra system that is fundamental to meditation.

“I try and write stuff that has meaning to it—I’m not trying to write pop songs,” said Imperioli. “Some people prefer rock ‘n’ roll music that isn’t too complicated, but that’s not what we do, for better or for worse.”

While the lyrics of Zopa contain kernels of hard-won wisdom, the sonic structure underpinning the songs is one of a dimly lit, New York City landscape, evoking last call moments at bars and neighborhoods that reside just beyond the bright lights. With their deployment of pointed guitar stabs and an understated but effective rhythm section, Zopa recall a host of New York City bands, among them the Walkmen and Interpol, but with a preference for exploratory, wandering tracks, their closest reference point might be CBGB mainstays Television.

Their sound is undeniably tight and contained, which should come as no surprise from a band that has been in existence for nearly 20 years, although Zopa’s history has not always been a straight line.

Imperioli actually met Zopa bassist Olmo Tighe on the set of a 1994 indie movie, “Postcards from America,” when the latter was just eight years old. Following that film, Imperioli kept in touch with Tighe’s older brother Michael, also an actor, over the years. When Imperioli mentioned to his pal that he wanted to start a band, the elder Tighe recommended his brother, who had turned into a formidable bassist. Olmo Tighe then suggested his friend Elijah Amitin as a potential drummer, forming the trio that makes up Zopa.

The band formed in 2006 and recorded material for their first album way back in 2012, but those songs were never released, for a variety of reasons, mostly stemming from Imperioli being located on the West Coast while his bandmates remained in New York. In 2020, Imperioli moved back to the East Coast, prompting the band to release their debut album, “La Dolce Vita,” and they’ve been steadily putting out music and touring since then.

Imperioli said the group is currently working on new material, and might have a release (either a full length album or an EP),coming out next year. In the interim, they’re excited to be playing live, particularly in San Francisco.

“San Francisco is a great city—one I always really, really look forward to,” said Imperioli, who also has at least two movies coming out this year—“The Housewife” and “Song Sung Blue.” “I have a lot of friends in the city, and places I love to go. My friend Jerry Cimino founded The Beat Museum, so I always stop by there. I’m excited to be back.”

It should come as no surprise that Imperioli is an appreciator of the Beat Generation, a cohort of citizens who embraced the same philosophical longings found in Buddhism. Whether it’s acting, music or spiritualism—Imperioli seems to be on a constant quest, and Zopa is a fitting stop along that journey.

Show Details:
Zopa with The Asteroid No.4
Where: The Chapel
When: 8 p.m., Tuesday June 24
Tickets: $33, available here.

Two Formidable Local Songwriters Team Up To Form The Pennys

Photo Credit: Alex Young

When Ray Seraphin and Mike Ramos announced earlier this year that they would be teaming up to form a new band called The Pennys, one could have been forgiven for thinking the story was old news.

As two of the more enduring figures in the local scene—Seraphin is prolific solo artist who manages the label Take a Turn records and Ramos is a ubiquitous figure, recording under the moniker Tony Jay while playing in outfits like Flowertown and Sad-Eyed Beatniks—it would have made total sense if the duo combined efforts long ago. 

Add in the fact that their sounds are so compatible—Seraphin’s fuzzy power-pop leanings nestle in perfectly with Ramos’ penchant for lo-fi, humid production techniques—and it’s actually pretty shocking to discover that, yes, The Pennys project is the first time these two have recorded together.

Although both Ramos and Seraphin (who records solo as R.E. Seraphin) have been playing in Bay Area bands for decades, it wasn’t until a 2022 tour together that they considered collaborating musically together.

“I had the idea of working with Mike for a while, because I really enjoy his music and the recording ambiance that he gets,” said Seraphin. “I asked him if we could be interested in recording an album of mine, but at the time, I didn’t really have any material. He was interested in that and he kind of kept asking me for a progress update, but I was putting it off because I didn’t have any songs. Finally, I cobbled together a couple of tunes, but I really wanted to make this a collaborative thing, so I proposed that we make an album together.”

That album—the band’s self-titled EP, which came out on May 1—is a testament to the duo’s undeniable chemistry, begging the question why they hadn’t teamed up earlier. Recorded in two days in Ramos’ old apartment in Bernal Heights last year, the album is a heartworn collection of frayed, poignant love songs. 

Incorporating elements of gentle psychedelic rock, wayward Americana, lo-fi bedroom pop and 80s British twee sensibilities, the release feels completely fully-formed, the product of two songwriters whose talents blend seamlessly. The EP comes out swinging with the beautiful, Girls-indebted “Say Something,” a desperate tale of longing punctuated with Ramos’ pleading chorus line, as he asks his lover to “please, please, please/Say something.”

“I’m a crybaby and I’ve had my heart broken many times,” said Ramos, who credited Christopher Owens of Girls with being a songwriting influence. “That stuff tends to come out in my songs.”

The six-track EP has absolutely no filler, with highlights being the jaunty and jammy “One Million Things,” the no-wave ballad “Long in the Tooth,” and the Beachwood Sparks-inflected “Trilobites.” Seraphin said the latter tune (which takes its name from a long-extinct marine arthropod) was inspired by a short story from the writer Breece D'J Pancake and a harrowing experience living in Texas.

“That song [“Trilobites”] was about my time living in Austin, which I found to be pretty stagnating,” said Seraphin. “There are certain references to living in the South and just dealing with a pretty awful time. At that part of my life, I was really struggling with alcoholism, and I’m proud to say I’m eight years sober now. I was not in a good frame of mind then, and I think that  song reflects that sentiment.”

The album closes out with “No More Tears, Pt.2” a song title that would perhaps suggest the futility of relationships—the inevitably that tears will flow, despite some solemn vows to the contrary. In reality, Ramos said the name of the song came more out of necessity.

“Well, I found out that Ozzy Osbourne has a song called ‘No More Tears,’” said Ramos. “I had this song idea that never came into fruition until we started recording. And it wasn’t until we were doing the album art that I realized Ozzy had the same song title. So, I just added on that Pt. 2 to make it a little more different.”

That track features Ramos’ signature tape-hiss recording style—an approach that imbues his songs with an endearing level of intimacy. It’s a fitting end to an album filled with contemplative songs that draw strength upon their tenderness—a tenderness that is strengthened by Ramos and Seraphin’s clear mutual respect for each other.

“Working with Ray is so easy,” said Ramos. “There was never any point of us rejecting song ideas or anything. We have this aesthetic that overlaps in so many ways. It’s important to appreciate that kind of thing when it happens.

Seraphin and Ramos said they weren’t sure if their project would leave to live performances—at the moment they have no gigs scheduled and aren’t actively seeking out shows—or further albums, but they both emphasized how rewarding the process has been to date.

“If there is one thing I’d like people to take away from this album,” said Seraphin. “Is that friendship is everlasting.”

To purchase a copy of the Penny’s self-titled debut EP, visit the Mt. St. Mtn. website here.

Bartees Strange Bringing His ‘Neighborhood’ of Music to The Independent

Photo Credit: Elizabeth De La Piedra

Listening to Bartees Strange is like being lost in the ultimate mixtape. 

Sounds, tones and genres shift effortlessly—with the experience taking the listener on the long journey from lonely, austere indie rock to brash, murky hip-hop beats, oftentimes within the span of one single song.

That virtuosic range might seem daunting for most artists, but for Strange (born Bartees Cox, Jr.) that omnivorous appetite for sound comes easily—almost too easily.

“I’ve realized that the things that I do that are easy for me, are hard for other people, but the things that a lot of other people do are so hard for me,” said Strange. “I hear artists like Andy Shauf and Cass McCombs and The Weather Station and how they create this singular space—like a band in a bedroom in a house, whereas my music is like the whole neighborhood. I admire that focus so much—I’d really like to try that. I was talking to my manager the other day about making an album that’s just guitar—and honestly, that would be such a challenge for me.”

Strange’s latest album, this year’s “Horror,” is another example of his neighborhood approach to record-making, with an astonishing blend of styles represented. On Sunday, Strange will bring that daringly eclectic mix to San Francisco, for a headlining performance at the Independent.

While his latest album might have a menacing title (Strange is admittedly a big fan of the horror movie genre), the record is more notable for his ability to convey pathos, vulnerability and endearing self-reflection.

The lead single, “Sober,” is a perfect example of that craftsmanship. A wrecking ball power pop number, the track catalogs Strange’s struggles to maintain stable relationships, an affliction of connection that leads him to screaming the cathartic chorus line, “That's why it's hard to be sober!”

“That song is about this feeling where you just can’t get it right—it could be about a relationship with anyone,” said Strange. “No matter how you try to make things different or change the circumstances, you can’t do it, and you have to deal with the consequences on your own, which is scary.”

While Strange has always been an emotional open book, “Horror” showcases him at his most honest and brave, detailing his uneven and uncomfortable experiences being a Black, queer artist in today’s society.  

In “17,” a flitting, slow-building coming-of-age ballad, Strange sings about “The first time that I felt impending doom/Was realizing I’m too Black for the room,” and on “Baltimore,” a mournful, Americana number, he laments the alternative futures that were either denied or unavailable to him.

Strange’s father was in the military, and his family moved around—a lot—when he was a child, relocating from areas in Germany, England and even Greenland, before settling in Mustang, Oklahoma. Strange said that “Baltimore” in particular is a reaction to that nomadic lifestyle, although the song plays out more as a wistful fantasy than as a defiant declaration.

“The cool thing about growing up in so many places is that I’m really good at adjusting,” said Strange. “But at this point, I’m probably rebelling against my upbringing. I really want to just live in one place and build a community, but now it’s like—where can I do that. That song is mostly about me sorting out the lives I don’t have or can’t have, for whatever reasons.”

Those kinds of earnest lamentations are found throughout “Horror” and they’re made all the more poignant by Strange’s impassioned vocal delivery, which can range from howling to hushed in a manner of moments. But what truly makes “Horror” special is the dazzling array of sounds scattered throughout the record—reflective of Strange’s “neighborhood” approach to album making.

“Hit it Quit It,” is a slinky funk number that explodes into a noise-rock hurricane, “Too Much” is a neo-soul statement, “Lovers” is an IDM banger and “Norf Gun” is a skittering, staccato hip-pop tune.

A residual sonic cloudiness clings to most of the songs on the album, providing an apt feeling of unease that mirrors Strange’s expressions of self-doubt and self-explorations. That ruddiness evaporates, however, for the triumphant final track, “Backseat Banton,” an Earth, Wind & Fire-indebted exhortation that finds Strange in a place of acceptance and relative peace.

“Over the course of the record, I was singling out these things that would help me get over the finish line, which is basically the realization of ‘Backseat Banton,’” said Strange. “Before, I was the backseat lover and now I want to drive—I understood that I wanted more control. In ‘17’ I might have been that inner child who was scared, but by the end of the album, I’m the person I want to be.”

Strange said he’s excited to share his new batch of songs with San Francisco, a city that he said has always embraced him and his band.

“My last show in San Francisco was one of my favorites from my last tour,” said Strange. “I love the city—I love that part of California. There is so much history, so much great music—I can’t wait to come back.” 

 Show Details:
Bartees Strange with Trè Burt, Zelma Stone
Where: The Independent
When: 8 p.m., Sunday, May 11
Tickets: $32, available here.