Photo Credit: Sarah Rucker
Dawes played the Georgia Theatre last night. After the jump, check out a selection of photos from the show.
I'd been looking forward to this double-bill for weeks, and OK, I'll admit it: I lost all semblance of cool during X's set. Every time the band would plow through a classic song ("Los Angeles," "Nausea," "The World's A Mess; It's In My Kiss" et al), I found myself leaping off the ground, shouting along and sweating it all out.
Although I was hardly the only ardent fan, there were a fair amount of people in my immediate vicinity that clearly hadn't taken their Geritol, gently sipping wine and not caring less that behind nearly every chooglin' Chuck Berry riff sat harrowing and horrifying tales a la “Johnny Hit And Run Paulene.”
More after the jump.
Photo Credit: Kaden Shallat
Washed Out played the Georgia Theatre Tuesday night. Here is a selection of photos from the show.
The race to replace U.S. Rep. Paul Broun (who is seeking a promotion to the Senate) is officially on. University of Georgia College Republicans hosted the first 10th Congressional District forum of the campaign season Wednesday night. Here are a five takeaways:
While Matthew Houck lived in Athens, he established, practiced and honed all that makes his Phosphorescent releases successful. Though he's lived in Brooklyn for years now, the creak of a Georgia porch still informs his tunes. It's just coincidental, then, that the lighting scheme at Atlanta's Terminal West last night started out all purples and greens for the first few tunes—this full-band Phosphorescent was like an Incredible Hulk-ed version of the Phosphorescent Athenians might remember, heavy rock and country rather than fragile folk.
More after the jump.
Photo Credit: Leif Johnson
First, a confession: I skipped out on the first several hours of Sunday's P4K schedule to catch the Braves/White Sox game down at Comiskey Park U.S. Cellular Field. So, that meant no Killer Mike, no El-P and, most importantly, no Killer Mike + El-P. Bummed though I was to miss the Run the Jewels fun, at least I managed to catch some quality Braves baseball. Wait, did I say quality? I meant nine hits and only one run. I did see some drunk bros ironically Tomahawk Chopping, so that was something.
Photo Credit: Leif Johnson
On Friday, Bjork conjured the storm. Before her headlining set was cut short due to approaching weather (the crowd groaned, but 10 minutes later everyone was drenched), she put on a career-spanning show, the indisputable highlight of a day that had already seen some pretty amazing action. Dressed like some strange lightning rod and with her amazing Tesla coil synth on hand, the Icelandic singer and her choir of backup singers/dancers made their way through a set that included tunes from 1997's Homogenic ("Joga," "Hunter") and last year's Biophilia.
Photo Credit: Mike White
Because I grew up 20 minutes away from where Daniel Hutchens and Eric Carter are from in West Virginia, I’m morally obligated to love Bloodkin. Even though most of their tunes can be described as Black Crowes-lite, I still get a kick out of hearing great made-for-radio pop. From their grey hair to the way they hold their instruments, you can tell that the guys in Bloodkin are veterans. The band took the stage right at 4:30 p.m. and busted out a solid hour of tunes from their almost 20-year career.
AthFest ain’t just about the music, folks. I scored tickets to a screening of the documentary Muscle Shoals earlier in the week. Although I had already had a ton of fun during the weekend, I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t looking forward to this seeing film more than checking out the bands I had seen thus far.
On the Pulaski Street Stage, Atlanta's Ruby Velle and the Soulphonics turned in a workmanlike R&B set. Velle has a pleasantly gritty voice, and her band has chops, but ultimately it was soul-by-numbers with no real emotion beyond poster-ready platitudes about believing in yourself and following your dreams.
For a cynic like me, the antidote to all that positivity was a block away, at Caledonia's un-officially-sanctioned Dirty Athens day party, because there's nothing like moody punk and post-rock on a beautiful afternoon.
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