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.

“Girl Culture is Sacred” Show at El Rio on Saturday will Raise Funds for Abortion Access

Photo Credit: Ginger Fierstein

As chaotic and unpredictable as the current federal administration currently seems, they do appear to be guided by one founding principle—“wake up, do something insane.”

With so much grief and pain and hardship caused by such a reckless president and his loathsome sycophants, it can be easy to fall into a well of hopelessness and despair (hi, that’s me.) Or you can be like Tracey Holland and actually take action to make a positive change.

Holland, a local musician with longstanding roots in activism, will stage her second annual “Girl Culture is Sacred” fundraiser concert on Saturday at El Rio, with proceeds benefiting the Louisiana Abortion Fund. 

“I hope the takeaway that people get from this event is that we’re not going away—that we’re not going to be quiet while all this shit goes down,” said Holland. “One of things that has been so disappointing is seeing all these universities and giant corporations utterly capitulate to this administration. Obviously, I don’t have a big voice—but someone has to say something—someone has to do fucking something.”

The fundraiser is part of Holland’s 1001 Stevies endeavor, a passion project that she founded in 2017 to raise awareness, funds and support for abortion access and reproductive healthcare initiatives. For Saturday’s event, she’s partnering with Pretty Beat, a local nonprofit organization that supports underrepresented artists in music, film, and media.

Holland started 1001 Stevies (the name is an homage to Fleetwood Mac’s legendary Stevie Nicks) as a sort of traveling benefit troupe, travelling between Los Angeles and San Francisco to stage fundraising concerts. The pandemic upended those plans, but last year, she settled on El Rio as a permanent, recurring home her abortion access fundraisers.

The matinee event will start at 3 p.m. on El Rio’s back patio and feature local bands Ouch! (delightfully described as “indie-hermit-pop”), Baycoin Beats (playing a special set of D’Angelo covers) and Holland’s own band for this project, Freebleed, a collection of musicians with ties to the community. Freebleed will play music inspired by acts that are foundational to Girl Culture, including Hole, Le Tigre, Fiona Apple and others.

While the show is titled Girl Culture is Sacred (a phrase coined by local music journalist Emma Silvers), Holland insists that the event will have a big-tent, welcoming feel.

“This is not just about gender—this is about self-expression and allowing for space for everyone to be proud of who they are,” said Holland. “Ultimately, we want to celebrate the freedom of making the choices you want with your life and with your body. Whether that’s an abortion, or birth control or gender-affirming care, or whatever, we support that. And so, this event can be for anyone.”

Over the years, Holland’s events have raised more than $10,000, and they’ve steadily grown since their inception. Along with providing crucial funds to abortion providers—particularly in the South, where they face existential threats—Saturday’s concert will provide another stirring reminder that activists and advocates like Holland will not disappear under the daily threats of this administration.

“It sucks that we are in a position where safe spaces like this show are really important,” said Holland. “But this gives us an opportunity to gather together and let people know that this is our culture, and we’re standing in solidarity together.”

Show Details:
Girl Culture is Sacred featuring Ouch!, Baycoin Beats, and Tracey Holland Supergroup Freebleed
Where: El Rio
When: 3 p.m. – 8 p.m., Saturday, February 14
Tickets: $28.52, available here.

Forged in Friendship, The Rural Alberta Advantage Continue to Make Inspiring Music

Photo credit: Jess Baumung

Wintertime in northern Alberta is a brutal, unforgiving season. Temperatures regularly drop below zero and the windchill adds a biting, merciless element of cold. The sun only peaks out for a handful of hours a day, and white, blinding snowfall is omnipresent.

These are not exactly the conditions for inspirational epiphanies (other than, “I need to move south, ASAP,”) but Nils Edenloff—vocalist, guitarist and chief songwriter for indie rock mainstays The Rural Alberta Advantage—experienced a touching moment of grace during one such winter back in his hometown of Fort McMurray, located in the hinterlands of Alberta, Canada.

“I was living in Toronto and went home for Christmas,” said Edenloff. “And my sister was asking how my bandmates, Paul [Banwatt] and Amy [Cole], were doing. As I was describing the dynamic of our band, I realized I was describing, in parallel, my own relationship with my siblings. I kind of figured out right then, that, yeah, this band is my family, too. Paul and Amy were the stand-in for the family I didn’t have in Toronto. It was this beautiful moment where I realized how special my relationship is with those two.”

That unique bond is what drove Edenloff to reconnect with Cole, after a two-year period from 2016 – 2018 in which the band did not feature its original lineup. Now in its second act of sorts, the band (Edenloff sings and plays guitar, Banwatt drums and Cole plays keys)  is touring and making music just as vibrant and urgent as they sounded some 20 years ago, when they first formed. A band forged among unshakeable friendships, The Rural Alberta Advantage will bring their distinct display of kinship to the Rickshaw Stop on February 5.

The Rural Alberta Advantage (the name was coined by Edenloff’s brother as a rejoinder to an oil industry marketing campaign) originally came into prominence with the release of their stunning, dynamic debut album, “Hometowns,” a collection of beautifully haggard and windswept folk ballads. The release was marked by a seamless interplay of austere acoustic elements and synth-inflected pop pieces, highlighted by Edenloff’s wounded, desperate warble. 

Those elements can be found in the band’s latest single, “The Hunt in Edson,” a woozy, somnolent slice of Americana rock. Reflective of Edenloff’s unique and empathetic approach to songwriting, the track is a poignant look at unexpected second chances, with an unusual origin story. 

The germ of the song began when Edenloff’s cat, Edson, interrupted a lazy morning in bed by dropping off his prize catch—a dazed, stunned mouse. After being dropped off roughly onto the blankets, the mouse sprung to his feet, seemingly shocked to still be alive. Edenloff and his wife then deposited the wary mouse into their yard at the edge of the forest, providing the creature with a wholly bewildering extra lease on life.

“That incident really gave me this perspective on how wonderful the world can be in giving you these small yet magical little events,” said Edenloff. “In my mind, that song is written from almost three perspectives—mine, the mouse and Edson the cat. I love this idea of the mouse resigning himself to being eaten and then all of sudden fate kind of intervenes. It’s definitely an odd scenario to be inspired by, but my brain just works that way—and that’s really something that Paul and Amy understand and appreciate.” 

Perhaps it’s the soft hum of keyboards the underscore most of the band’s sonic templates, of Edenloff’s knack for finding beauty in battered humans and battered places, but there has always been a sense of warmth to the songs of The Rural Alberta Advantage, belying the group’s frigid origins. “The Hunt in Edson” continues in that tradition, imbuing humanity and pathos into quiet, fleeting moments that many might overlook. It takes a special breed of band to make one feel deep, lasting emotions for a wayward mouse.

“When we set him free in our yard, I started asking myself, ‘well, what now?’” said Edenloff. “I can only project what will happen next with this mouse. But I like the idea of him having this new chapter in life.”

While Edenloff and the band project a preternatural sense of forgiveness, they’re also fully capable of morphing into a defiant batch of crusaders. The flip side of “The Hunt in Edson” is the band’s other new single, “Falling Apart.” A rousing call-to-arms, the song is not political in nature, but serves as a rallying cry for all those dipping into apathy or a malaise. Both of the lead singles are set to be part of an upcoming album, the details of which are still forming.

“That song [“Falling Apart”] gestated for years, but it basically addresses the idea that we’re getting older and, yeah, we might be falling apart from a technical standpoint,” said Edenloff. “But we’ve always been a ramshackle band. We know who we are, and we aren’t going anywhere at this point.”

For a band that has made a point of sticking with each other for the most part of the past 20 years, that statement is not just mere bluster. It’s comforting to know that the familial, familiar story of The Rural Alberta Advantage will continue.

Show Details:
The Rural Alberta Advantage with Jordan Burchel
Where: The Rickshaw Stop
When: 8 p.m., Thursday, February 5
Tickets: $32.90, available here.

First Annual Nick Medvedeff Memorial Fundraiser Concert Happening February 7 at Kilowatt

When I first started this website, I was pretty damn nervous. 

I wasn’t sure if anyone would take it seriously. I doubted if I would still be able to interview the musicians I spoke with in the past as a writer for the SF Examiner and SF Weekly. I wondered if I’d be able to keep up a regular posting schedule without the external pressures of an editor or publishing deadlines.

Fortunately, I had a ton of friends and professional colleagues offering me assurances and support, which made launching this project so much easier. Their backing gave me the confidence to step out on my own, and of all of my pals offering kind words, no one was more excited than my buddy Nick.

See, Nick had grand plans for Broken Dreams Club. When I first told him I was starting this music website, he immediately went into planning mode. By the time my initial story was posted, he was already plotting out the seeds for an annual Broken Dreams Club Music Festival. 

Cribbing a little bit of the details of Noise Pop and Treefort Fest, Nick had dreams of a multi-day music fest taking places in small venues and clubs throughout San Francisco. He was thinking Thee Parkside, Bottom of the Hill, The Independent—all the amazing places we had seen shows together over the years. 

He was already developing a roster of acts, too. One of his ideas was to get Free Energy (one of our favorite, long bygone bands) to reunite, and any Broken Dreams Club fest of course had to feature Christopher Owens. 

By the end of these brainstorming sessions, he usually had an absurdly detailed gameplan for the festival established in his mind. It didn’t matter that Broken Dreams Club had no paid staff, a budget of $0 and zero experience planning out a single live show, let alone a multi-day festival. Those were all insignificant particulars to be dealt with later—the important  part was having the vision, and hell yeah, did he have that covered.

Nick mostly conjured these ambitious offerings while he was housebound, struggling to adapt to the cocktail of treatments he was undergoing to treat his stage 4 colon cancer. Despite experiencing every sort of pain, Nick’s mind stayed sharp and he never wavered from his Broken Dreams Club goals. As the cancer progressed, he only tightened his focus, coming up with ever more inventive ideas for the fest, which grew to include a vinyl store pop-up and a comedy showcase. 

On March 14, 2025, Nick finally succumbed to his illness. Sadly, he was never able to see his glorious concept of the Broken Dreams Club Music Festival come to fruition. Damn, it’s hard to type that sentence without tearing up.

While we weren’t able to succeed at that venture, we will never forget Nick or his fearless outlook on life. On Saturday, February 7, we will honor his memory by hosting the First Annual Nick Medvedeff Memorial Fundraiser Concert. The show will take place at Kilowatt—exactly the kind of small, wonderfully grimy music club that Nick loved patronizing—and will feature performances from Luke Sweeney, Lucky and Torpedo Wharf. 

Outside of spending time with his wonderful wife Silvia and their adorable, precocious daughter Aurora, nothing brought Nick more joy than watching live music. I’m confident that this show—with all his friends gathered, having fun and listening to great tunes—is how he would like to be remembered. 

The show will run from 6 p.m. – 9 p.m. on Saturday. Tickets are available to purchase at the Kilowatt webpage here. There are multiple tiered payment options, and revenue from the ticket sales will benefit the college fund for Aurora as well as UCSF’s Young On-set Colorectal Cancer Program. There will also be posters for sale (designed by Galine Tumasyan), with proceeds further benefitting those two causes.

We are specifically calling this the first annual fundraiser concert because we are all fully committed to making this a yearly event. It’s our small way of supporting Nick’s family while keeping his memory alive for as long as we are. 

And who knows, maybe this fundraiser concert will one day be the centerpiece of a Broken Dreams Club Music Festival. I still know absolutely nothing about how to pull something like that off, but an utter lack of experience never deterred Nick. In fact, I’m already thinking up new additions to Nick’s original vision. This first show is just the beginning of something bigger—a sentiment I know that Nick—someone who always dreamed big— would appreciate. 

Show Details:
Luke Sweeney with Lucky and Torpedo Wharf
Where: Kilowatt
When: 6 p.m. – 9 p.m., Saturday, February 7
Tickets: $13.39 - $70.04, available here.

Bay Area Record Spotlight: Weekend “Sports”

Here’s the second feature from my new monthly column highlighting great local albums. For my latest piece, I focus on the transcendent debut release from San Francisco post-punk trio Weekend.

Arriving in late 2010, the album received universal praise and acted as a reminder that there was more to San Francisco than its famous garage rock scene. Led by songwriter Shaun Durkan, “Sports” distilled all the best parts of My Bloody Valentine and Joy Division into a strangely accessible post-punk masterpiece.

Read all about their landmark inaugural record here:

Man, that opening track.

First the drums come marching in, setting a deliberate and ominous tone. Then the staccato guitar spikes saunter along—plinking motions that skitter and crawl in parallel to the percussion. Next up are the softly haunting wordless melodies, adding an extra layer of atmospherics, before an absolute fucking wall of feedback and noise clearly states the epically ambitious scope of the creation.

Yeah—as far as first songs go, it’s hard to top the soaring heights of “Coma Summer,” the perfectly honed post-punk treatise featured in Weekend’s debut album, “Sports.” If you’re one of the few people who still listen to albums from front-to-finish (hi!), there is nothing quite like an indelible opening track—a mission statement and preview for what’s on tap. And “Coma Summer” is the perfect tone-setter for “Sports”—one of the best albums to ever come from the Bay Area.

Even though I shared a hometown with this trio—composed of vocalist/multi-instrumentalist Shaun Durkan, guitarist Kevin Johnson and drummer Abe Pedroza—the first time I had heard of Weekend was when I read Pitchfork’s laudatory review of “Sports.” It took me only moments of listening to the album to know that it was instant classic (also, that fucking album art! Are those keyhole glimpses into something menacing? Fiery comets travelling in opposing directions? An exit out through a dark, foreboding cave?)

Like all great post-punk bands, Weekend harnessed the volatile energy of guitar feedback into something approximating pop songs on “Sports.” Even at their most violent and amorphous, the tunes on “Sports” always gravitate towards an end point that is satisfying and fulfilling. Beneath the grit and dust and sludge is a sonic landscape replete with surprisingly accessible and approachable hooks and harmonies.

Take, for example, the two-track suite that makes up “Monday Morning” and “Monongah, WV” (a distant Appalachian town beset by coal mining tragedies. There are some seriously spooky backstories there.) 

The former song is a billowing production of floating white noise, a constellation of imperceptible noises that distinctly feel like they are building to a crescendo—a future coda in the offing. That crest occurs in the latter track, which borrows the same melody as “Monday Morning” but maxes up the volume levels and pacing, taking a slow-burning space rock song and transforming it into a militant shoegaze anthem. By the end of that one-two punch, you’re ready to start karate kicking people (but in a fun, healthy way!) 

And while audiophiles will love the attention to detail of those songs, there is truly no better way to experience the companion tracks than by watching the music video—a joyfully nihilistic look at suburban culture that ends with young and old subjects alike bathing and imbibing a dark, oily liquid (making for an honestly terrifying and stirring visual spectacle.)

Those three tracks alone, which make up the first four spots on the album, would make “Sports” an imminently memorable record, but the back half is just as formidable as the front. “Age Class” is in the vein of “Coma Summer,” a steadily escalating feedback ride that culminates with Durkan defiantly repeating the warning, “There’s something in our blood.” An argument could be made that “End Times,” the eighth track on the album, is the strongest of the bunch, as Durkan and company make their love for Joy Division clear in a number that feels like a lost track from “Unknown Pleasures.” The first time I heard that song, I thought, “whoa, these guys are fucking SERIOUS.” 

The album closes with “Untitled,” an urgent, abrasive and pummeling piece of shoegaze that acts as the perfect companion piece for “Coma Summer,” bookending “Sports” in a way that reiterates again that snarling dissonance can be the unlikely handmaiden to beautiful moments of reverie. It was a lingering reminder of Weekend’s ability to infuse a fresh, exciting and unique perspective to the template laid out by The Jesus and Mary Chain—an attempt tried and failed by so many lesser bands. 

Durkan’s lyrics are wondrously oblique and elliptical, with his vocals falling just a register below the wall of sound of his bandmates, adding an extra layer of interpretiveness to them. When he sings, “I awoke from a coma summer/Tell me you're true,” is that a hopeful declaration of devotion or an accusatory, defeated statement? There are little riddles like that throughout the album, with the narratives deftly straddling the balance between hope and despair.

There are countless nuggets that make this album special, but what really sets it apart is the band sounding so much more than the sum of its parts. Weekend are in lockstep throughout “Sports,” morphing from a lean trio of guitar, bass and drums into some kind of super instrument, a singular force that fills every aural square inch of the album with meaningful, measured noise.

In so many ways, Weekend illustrate the magic of the Bay Area ecosystem. Durkan, whose father Tom, fronted the great underground band, Half Church, grew up in the North Bay along with Johnson (the two first met in band practice in sixth grade.) They connected with Pedroza while attending college at the San Francisco Art Institute, and the trio all lived in San Francisco or Oakland for many years after officially forming as a band in 2009.

They were pals with other local like-minded acts like Tamaryn and Young Prisms and they were on the esteemed and beloved Oakland label, Slumberland Records. Coming of age in the late aughts and early 2010s, Weekend highlighted the stunning depth and breadth of the local music scene at the time, which also featured acts like Girls, Ty Segall, Mikal Cronin, Thee Oh Sees, Dominant Legs, Sonny and the Sunsets and countless others. Everything seemed geared in place to ensure that Weekend would take their place among the pantheon of durable, lasting Bay Area indie rock bands. Unfortunately, things haven’t quite gone according to plan.

Following the universally-positive response to “Sports,” Weekend toured relentlessly before putting out two follow-up efforts—the 2011 EP “Red” and the 2013 full-length, “Jinx”  (the nickname of Durkan’s dad.) Both those albums are amazing, underrated gems, although they did not reach the critical heights of “Sports” (but seriously, go and listen to those releases again right now—they are stone cold classics.)

In 2013, Durkan, Johnson and Pedroza all moved to New York City, building upon a long-gestating dream to live in Brooklyn. The plan was to release more albums, capitalizing on the vibrant, burgeoning Williamsburg scene that was almost freakishly prolific and adventurous at the time.  

As I’ve written about before, those dreams were waylaid by Durkan’s crippling drug addiction. He has since recovered—and in utterly inspiring fashion, replacing chemical dependencies with an affinity for trail running, fitness and the occasional candy splurge.

In the interim period since Weekend’s last release, Durkan has produced a number of albums and filled in as a touring musician for bands like Deafheaven and Soft Kill. He has now scored a somewhat unexpected success with Crushed, an awesome alt-rock outfit he formed with Bre Morrell. Crushed has released a full-length album and an EP—two splendid records that have garnered some really great critical praise.

While interviewing Durkan in 2020 for my story in the SF Weekly, I heard a sneak preview of the songs for Weekend’s still TBD third album. The brief snippets I was able to listen to were thrilling. The band sounded as vital, urgent, daring and skilled as I first remembered hearing them, some 10 years earlier. It was a tantalizing experience. But to date, Weekend’s third album is still unreleased.

I’ve spoken with Shaun many times over the years for various stories. He’s one of the nicest, most candid and accessible dudes I’ve ever interviewed. When we speak, I feel like he gives a slight wince at times, knowing that I’m going to bring up Weekend’s lost album, and I hate putting pressure on these guys. I’ve seriously gotten very Zen about everything at this point. Shaun is doing great things with Crushed, Kevin is playing in other outfits and living the good life in Vancouver and Abe was living aboard in Australia last I checked. Everyone in Weekend is doing fine and well.

It's just that, by listening to “Sports” repeatedly once again for this column, I’m reminded of the brilliance of this band. Hopefully, they regroup for that third album. If not, their legacy as a venerable San Francisco act will be forever secured by their blazingly magnificent debut release.

“Sports” by Weekend is available for purchase on Bandcamp here.

Bottom of The Hill Forever: My 10 Favorite Shows at the Legendary Venue

Julien Baker, from her 2016 performance at Bottom of the Hill.

The Bottom of the Hill is my favorite music venue of all time and second place isn’t particularly close. From the moment I first stepped into the venerable punk bar in Potrero Hill, I knew I had found a home.

I love the creaky neon sign on the front of the venue. I love the graffiti covered bathroom. I love the smoking section out back, where you can hang out between acts. I love the fact that a beer and a shot won’t set you back $20. I love the calendar posters that deck the walls—evidence that the Strokes and Arcade Fire and the White Stripes all played at this intimate, tiny venue. 

I love the immediacy of the experience—that when you first step through the doors, it’s only a few quick paces before you’re directly in front of the band. I love my secret listening spot—facing the right of the stage, next to the riser steps—which seemingly is always available for me and my friends.

Most of all, I love the amazing lineups hosted at the venue over the years. From local San Francisco acts to mid-level touring bands to pre-stardom arena-rock groups, Bottom of the Hill has always consistently featured music that I’ve loved and admired over the years.

All of this is why it was so devastating to hear the news that Bottom of the Hill would be closing at the end of 2026. In San Francisco, we have become inured to the idea of revered institutions shutting down, but this one fucking HURTS. I cannot think of a single music venue in the Bay Area—not the Fillmore, not the Fox, not anywhere else—as universally loved as Bottom of the Hill. This was our scrappy, scuzzy, no frills, beautiful punk bar (also, Thee Parkside must now be protected at all costs.)

The silver lining of this sad announcement is that the venue still has a full year of operations left before it finally closes its doors. I plan on making as many shows as possible. In the interim, I thought I’d honor Bottom of the Hill by listing my 10 favorite shows I saw at the venue. Here they are:

10.) Bear in Heaven / Cymbals Eat Guitars, March 25, 2010: A perfect example of the kind of bands you’d see at Bottom of the Hill during the heyday of the indie blogosphere. Cymbals Eat Guitars were loud, erudite Built to Spill clones and Bear In Heaven specialized in silky synthpop. A total contrast in styles, the bands made for the kind of dichotomic bills that are so fun to watch, and both acts were touring behind critically acclaimed albums. Now both disbanded, in a perfect world, Bear in Heaven and Cymbals Eat Guitars would have elevated to a new level of fame after this tour, but at least I got to see them at the peak of their powers in 2010.

9.) Times New Viking, October 29, 2009: For those unfamiliar with the term, shitgaze refers to bands whose sounds and production values don’t quite meet the basement-level standards of lo-fi. Times New Viking, a glorious trio out of Columbus, Ohio, were a progenitor of the genre and one of the best damn bands of this century (who apparently are reforming for their first show in a decade.) My memories of this show are as follows: it was incredibly loud (and fucking awesome); the opening band—aptly titled Psychedelic Horseshit—used an empty Budweiser case as their kick drum, and I drunkenly sang the lyrics of “Drop-Out” to vocalist/drummer Adam Elliott after the show and he somehow knew what I was talking about. In retrospect, that dude was an absolute saint—he acted like a complete gentleman, despite me approaching Punisher-type fan levels with him. 

8.) Beach House, March 15, 2008: While Beach House might not have reached the ridiculous heights of other Bottom of the Hill bands (seriously, did you know that Imagine Dragons played at BOTH? I don’t know a single one of their songs, but I think they played at the Super Bowl?), this Baltimore dreampop duo went on to much, much bigger things after this Bottom of the Hill performance. This show was particularly special for me, as they were touring (mostly) behind their debut, self-titled album, a lo-fi effort that still stands out as my favorite record in the Beach House discography. 

7.) Empath, August 31, 2019: My friend Josh from Club Night clued me into this noise-rock outfit from Philadelphia, and I interviewed them prior to the show for a story in the SF Examiner. Josh and I ended up going together to see them play, and they were loud, catchy and amazing (even overshadowing the headlining act, the great Mannequin Pussy.) I remember chatting with the band after the show, smoking cigarettes together outside the venue during an unseasonably warm August night in San Francisco. 

6.) Magnolia Electric Company, August 4, 2006: This one is memorable for so many reasons—it was my first ever show at Bottom of the Hill and it was the only time I ever saw the late, great Jason Molina perform live. It was a packed house and I remember being in goddam awe of the place—freshly relocated from Maine and thinking, “holy shit, I love this city.” 

5.) The Blow, October 25, 2013: I was a huge fan of The Blow—“Paper Television” remains one of my favorite albums of all time, but I got the distinct feeling that I was never going to see them live after their original incarnation—composed of Khaela Maricich and Jona Bechtolt—split ways. Thankfully, Maricich teamed up with her partner—visual artist Melissa Dyne—for a reimagined version of the outfit. This show was on a Friday night and I remember it starting very late in classic Bottom of the Hill fashion. By the time the electrifying Maricich took the stage, everyone was in a place of wonderfully blissful drunkenness.  

4.) Smith Westerns / Yuck, February, 2011: I was already a huge fan of the Smith Westerns (if this band ever reunites, I will be the first person to buy tickets), and I was super excited to see them after they blew my mind opening for Girls at the Great American Music Hall the year earlier. They were great again, but the real treat was discovering Yuck, an amazing indie rock outfit from Britain. The cab driver who took us to the venue actually preached about Yuck prior to the show and he was totally on-point with his praise. Yuck went on to put out one of my favorite albums of all time (a theme you’ll notice a lot in this list) before their main songwriter, Daniel Blumberg embarked on a career as an Oscar-winning composer (!!) for this work on “The Brutalist.”

3.) Phoebe Bridgers, April 27, 2018: One of my more epic concert-going experiences, I actually caught TV on the Radio opening for LCD Soundsystem at the Greek Theater this same night, before ditching James Murphy and company early to Uber all the way over to Bottom of the Hill. I arrived just as Bridgers was taking the stage to play songs from “Stranger in the Alps,” (yep, another one of my all-time faves.) She sounded amazing, and was joined by the ever-grumpy Mark Kozelek of Red House Painters fame for a few songs. Perhaps a little tipsy from four hours of music shows, I belted out a song request to Kozelek and promptly got screamed at by him. My friend Marisa said she heard Bridgers repeat this story of my public scolding at two different later shows in the Bay Area. Thank you, Bottom of the Hill for making me infamous.

2.) Handsome Furs, April 15, 2008: Isn’t this Wolf Parade revival thing amazing? Thank you to the gay hockey show for introducing this band to a whole new audience, and thanks to Wolf Parade guitarist Dan Boeckner for fronting his wonderfully quirky and catchy synth-pop collective, Handsome Furs. This duo, made up of Boeckner and his then-wife Alexei Perry, played an absolutely banger of a show that night. I remember Perry dancing barefoot on stage and then when I went to give her a high-five after the show (standing in my secret spot near the stage steps), she kissed my hand. Pretty great. Sadly, the marriage didn’t last and Handsome Furs broke up in 2012, but I’ll never forget this show.

1.) Julien Baker, February 25, 2016: Because of Boygenius, Julien Baker is now legit famous, but long before that trio formed, she was touring behind her amazing debut album, “Sprained Ankle.” I remember her wending her way through the audience before this show, dutifully talking with everyone who stopped to say hi. Although she looked so diminutive upon the stage, she completely captivated the crowd from the onset, entrancing everyone there with her poignant, emotionally laden vocal delivery. The songs on “Sprained Ankle” are painfully candid, but Baker held nothing back that night, fearlessly brandishing her heart on her sleeve, opening herself up so completely to a crowd eager to embrace her into our collective arms. Her stirring rendition of “Rejoice,” was a damn-near religious experience for me, and I cannot think of a better place to hear that song than the Church of Bottom of the Hill.