Critic's Manifesto: Amanda Mull

On the surface, a critic exists to tell readers if something is good or bad. Simple. There are characteristics that either make a movie, a performance and a meal successful or unsuccessful, and it's a critic's job to evaluate the finished product and share their findings with the public.

But, as with most things, it's never that simple.

Sure, critics are charged with deciding what's good and what's bad. But if that's all a critic did, he or she would probably toil in obscurity forever. The best critics are able to take a work and explain why or how it fits into culture. Whether or not a piece of art is good may be interesting, absolutely, but not nearly so interesting as what a particular piece of art may say about the culture that created it.

The job of a critic is to help us understand how art, food, and entertainment in general fit into our lives and reflect on our tastes, ideals, and views as a society. A critic's purpose is not just to tell you that "Shot at Love with Tila Tequila" is a terrible television catastrophe; most people could figure that out on their own after 30 seconds of viewing. Instead, a critic should tell you why it's interesting that the show is back for a second season, despite the fact that everyone that has ever encountered it agrees that it's terrible.

Whether something is good or not is almost besides the point.

Mix Tape: The Claire Mix

by Claire Miller

Here are the songs that would be at the top of my mix tape:

“If I Had A Million Dollars” by the Barenaked Ladies. This one speaks to the desire we all have to win a million dollars and do ridiculous things with the money. I really would buy you a fur coat – but not a real fur coat. That’s cruel.

“Separate Ways” by Journey. What would a mix tape be without a song from a great 80s band like Journey? I also recommend watching the video for this one – it’s a one-way ticket back to 1983.

“One Sweet Love” by Sara Bareilles. This one hits home for me and probably other people as well, as Sara Bareilles wonders if she’s “already tasted her piece of one sweet love.” Her honest vocals and the guitar accompaniment fit the song well.

“Song for a Friend” by Jason Mraz. I think Jason says it best about his song: “This is a different kind of love song… oftentimes you see the sensitive singer/songwriter up here singing about his girlfriend over and over and over again. But I have a lot of dudes that I totally respect – y’all have inspired this piece.”

“The Medallion Calls” by Klaus Badelt, from the Pirates of the Caribbean soundtrack. This is the track playing behind Jack Sparrow when he makes his first appearance in The Curse of the Black Pearl, and it’s one of my favorite scores from a film. Love this scene and the music that goes with it.

CD Review: "Across the Universe" Soundtrack

For listeners even slightly aquainted with the music of The Beatles, the “Across the Universe” two-disc deluxe film soundtrack is a new and fun progression through familiar territory. Instantly recognizable hits like “I Want To Hold Your Hand” and “Let It Be” keep the spirit of the original recordings while bringing something new to the table.


The film of the same name follows the story of Jude, a young man from Liverpool who travels to America in search of the father who left him. Along the way, he befriends Max, a self-proclaimed “irresponsible, unmotivated college dropout” and his naïve sister, Lucy. The music weaves its way through their psychedelic journey to New York City in the 1960s, providing a brilliant musical account of the characters’ lives.

The soundtrack features the voices of the film’s young and talented cast as they sing their way through the 1960s. From Jim Sturgess’s sorrowful rendition of “Girl” to Joe Anderson’s adolescent and slightly flirtatious version of “With A Little Help From My Friends,” the recordings match the film characters’ sentiments to a tee. The listener can truly hear the excited anticipation in Evan Rachel Wood’s voice in “It Won’t Be Long” as her character, Lucy, awaits the return of her boyfriend from basic training.

While songs like “Hey Jude” and “All You Need Is Love” sound quite similar to their original form, other tracks have changed in some way to elicit a different emotion or match the film’s events. But these variations don’t take away from the brilliant lyrics or the heart of the songs – on the contrary, they give new life to songs heard repeatedly on classic rock stations. “Let It Be” begins with a small black child singing the first verse with little musical accompaniment and ends with a church choir belting out the lyrics in a soulful rendition of the original. This fits well with the scenes of violence, death and a funeral during this part of the film.

But what makes this soundtrack stand out more is its ability to reach out to a broader audience. For people listening to soundtracks from musicals like “Rent” and “The Phantom of the Opera,” seeing the movie is necessary to understanding the tracks’ lyrics and tone. This is not necessarily the case for “Across the Universe” listeners – people can just enjoy two discs’ worth of beautifully revamped Beatles music. Having knowledge of the film’s characters can give context to the songs, but at the end of the day, tracks like “Hold Me Tight” and “I Want To Hold Your Hand” stand on their own as individual creative works anyone can enjoy (even the younger set who might not be familiar with The Beatles).

So before you turn to your “Rubber Soul” album or a classic rock radio station for your Beatles fix, try out this new take on the band’s music. You’ll be glad you let “Across the Universe” reacquaint you with these songs.

Yet Another Critic's Manifesto

By Steven Carter

There are so many negative connotations that accompany the word critic because too many jaded writers get paid too much to bash what they could never create.

The critic judges the quality of a particular form of entertainment, and their primary role is to inform people of the great things that they may otherwise miss.

Some critics (like book naysayer Michiko Kakutani of the New York Times) believe that their job description entails beating a dead horse until its insides come oozing out. As an aspiring novelist/ poet, it infuriates me to see terrible writers writing about how others can’t write well.

A good critic should never focus primarily on telling people what to avoid [because Americans naturally avoid most forms of art anyway, and don‘t appreciate the ones they do embrace (just look at the Billboard charts or listen to the latest pop compilation, Now 87, featuring the newest recycled beats along with teenage pop-stars undertaking their long arduous journey to rehab)].

A good critic should provide suggestions for the reader that will enhance their appreciation of a given medium. If I happen to hear a great band or read a great author, I’ll tell my friends. I’ll let them borrow the book or burn some CD's for them. And if I hear a band that blows (name drops are so tempting right here), I won’t sit there and waste an hour telling my friend how bad it is. I won’t rattle off a list of names to avoid because that negativity adds nothing to someone‘s life. There are plenty of terrible movies, albums, and books out there (that always manage to take negative reviews out of context to fool the consumer). I don’t see any reason to even acknowledge them in the first place.

As a critic (a title I’ll assume for this manifesto), it’s not my job to filter through the trash and smear more filth on something not worth picking up in the first place. It’s my job to find the great works that may slip through the cracks and throw them on top of the heap where they can’t be ignored.

Being a critic is about giving people a chance to appreciate new, exciting things. And I can’t think of anything more positive than that.

A Critic's Manifesto

The word "critic" is a harsh one, calling to mind the words "criticize" and "complain" and so on.  Indeed, that is how I used to view critics - they were all negative know-it-alls who had never created anything a day in their lives.

Now that I have begun morphing into one, however, I can appreciate a new role for the critic, one that is far more endearing and earnest.

Because there is not enough time in the day for all of us to explore every cultural opportunity available, the critic must be ready to create a representation through words that is worthy of the piece.  People create art for a reason, and it should be discussed and appraised.  The art deserves that respect, and the people deserve the joy and enlightenment that can come from it.  

I'd like my reviews to be beautiful, to be their own works of art worthy of those they discuss.  I'd like to write pieces that inspire thought and discussion in our society.  I do not claim that every piece I write will bring tears to the eyes of masses of readers everywhere, but I hope they will bring appreciation and understanding.  And maybe even entertainment.  

This is art, and we should have some fun.

The Role of the Critic

At the beginning of the semester, I said that a critic’s main purpose was to guide people. Time is finite and when you add up all the boring, unimportant stuff – work, family, sleep – there’s hardly anytime to watch Kung fu movies or listen to Soulja Boy. Therefore a critic needs to tell you the best way to enjoy your precious free time. Otherwise you might find yourself wasting it on crap.

As the semester has continued, I still have held on to my earlier notion. Yet I feel the critic has another role besides guiding people. They need to take on a personality through their reviews.

The critic is like a politician. In the political world, people give flip-floppers flak because no one has an idea of how they will react or judge something. The same is true of critics. We need critics who believe strongly in their own beliefs. A critic needs to judge work solely on who they are. By doing so readers know what the critic likes or dislikes. If the critic hates chick flicks, like he or she should, then the reader knows that they should seek advice elsewhere on whether a chick flick is good or not.

As the amount of art and entertainment increases at a feverish rate, the need for strong independent critics is at an all-time high. Whether critics will express themselves through text, audio or video in the future remains uncertain. The only certainty is that they are needed.

----Adam Lipper

Adam's Mixtape

As a graduating senior, each of these artists has a connection to Athens, Ga. in 2007-2008.

Atmosphere – In Her Music Box: Off the new album, If Life Gives You Lemons (released April 22^nd), Slug continues ending his albums with odes to his kids. It’s refreshing that after almost ten years, Ant and Slug still haven’t conformed to modern rap standards.

My Morning Jacket – One Big Holiday: Ten years after their debut in 1998, the Louisville band’s still going strong. This song off their 2003 album is one of their bests.

Girltalk – Night Ripper Tracks: Music for those suffering from ADD. The Pittsburgh DJ mixes Biggie and Elton John. That’s no easy feat.

Ghostface Killa – Assassination Day: Unlike others which branch free of earlier times, this song manages to maintain the classic Wu-tang sound.

R.E.M. – Houston: The top college band of the 80’s manages to make a great album thirty years later without their original drummer. Listen to the whole thing, but this song displays Stipe’s voice beautifully.

Mix Tape: The Amanda Album

“Play Crack the Sky” by Brand New - The dark, brooding final track of 2003’s Deja Entendu that had me weeping in my emo hoodie over my breakup with my high school boyfriend.

“In the Aeroplane Over the Sea” by Neutral Milk Hotel - Really, any song from their 1998 album would do, so we’ll just go with the title track. “Some day we will die, and our ashes will fly from an aeroplane over the sea. But for now we are young, let us lay in the sun, and count every beautiful thing we can see.” Indeed, Jeff Mangum, indeed.

“Jet Black New Year” by Thursday - Always a bridesmaid, never a bride. This song never made it on to an album, just their 2002 “Five Stories Falling” EP, but be careful if you listen to it while driving because I’ve found myself caught up in the relentless final crescendo (that doubles as an ultra-clever countdown to midnight) going well in excess of the speed limit.

“California Love” by Tupac Shakur featuring Dr. Dre - one of the greatest rap songs ever recorded and the song that introduced me to hip-hop. I vividly remember sitting in my bedroom in my parents’ house in 1996, trying to clandestinely tune in to V103 on my little radio in hopes that I might hear it and feel like I was part of the West Coast party, too.

“A Perfect Sonnet” by Bright Eyes - My favorite song of all time, period. Released on 1999’s Every Day and Every Night EP, Conor Oberst’s tortured, straining vocals make the song swirl and rumble over a frenetic backing track. I’m honestly not even sure what it’s about, but it’s captivating.

Mix Tape: The Rachel Mix

• "On Your Side" by Pete Yorn.  This beautifully complex song, on the musicforthemorningafter album, has alternately made me fall in love or burst into tears, depending on the amount of angst I was feeling at the time.  I used to love this song so much that a boyfriend of mine tried to learn how to play it on the guitar in order to serenade me, only to be foiled because there are three separate guitar parts.  This song was never a single (like "Life On A Chain" and "Strange Condition"), but the whole album is great.
• "Breakable" by Ingrid Michaelson. Michaelson has the distinction of being my newest girl crush, thanks to this song off the "Girls and Boys" album.  It was featured on "Grey's Anatomy," and her voice is so clear and sweet as to merit the adjective "angelic."  Also, I like the content of this song, because lyrics like "We are just breakable girls and boys" remind me that we're all human, fragile.
• "Stay" by Lisa Loeb.  Unlike most people of my generation, I would venture, my first album purchase is not in the least embarrassing: it was Lisa Loeb and 9 Stories' 1995 release "Tails."  Loeb's voice is still distinctive to me, even 12 years later.  This song, the CD's finale, taught me about what it is to yearn for someone.
• "Free Fallin'" by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. The classic American hit that best represents Petty's musical catalog and instantaneously makes me think of my childhood with rock-loving parents.  Actually, all of "Full Moon Fever" or the "Greatest Hits" compilations would have the same effect.  And, let's face it, sometimes we all need to pull a "Jerry Maguire" and sing "Freeeeee faaaaallin'!" really loud in the car to let off some stress. 
• "Rosa Parks" by OutKast.  I feel a special affinity for OutKast as a fellow ATLien myself (although this song is on "Aquemini").  This song's beat is still just as perfect for creating a dance party as it was in 1998, and I literally cannot resist.

Live Music Review: Yonder Mountain Pays a Rare Visit

By Allison Tonini

Cupid successfully planted his target on the audience at the February 14th Yonder Mountain String Band concert at the Georgia Theatre.

Although a smoky, shoulder-to-shoulder atmosphere sounds a little less romantic than a candlelit dinner, the sold-out Valentine's Day show attracted love struck Yonder fans from everywhere around Athens. Ranging from scruffy grown men in denim overalls pounding Budweiser to tie-dyed noodlers barely old enough to drink, they provided an all-night electrifying energy almost as bright as the band's glowing stage lights. Sweat soaked and losing their voices, the entire audience showed undying praise for the band's stop in Athens.

The show ended an almost four year absence of the Nederland, Colorado, based bluegrass-jam quartet, whose last appearance in Athens was at the Georgia Theatre in April of 2004.

Yonder Mountain String Band proved that they are versatile, experimenting with solid bluegrass roots and loose collaborative instrumental jam sessions. The four talented guys, Jeff Austin (mandolin), Ben Kaufmann (bass), Dave Johnston (banjo), and Adam Aijala (acoustic guitar), all took the stage dressed as if they had been sleeping on a friend's couch for a few days. They playfully taunted the crowd with rose-colored boxes of chocolates in between songs as they sipped on beer, most likely the Theatre's special $3.00 PBR tall boys.

There weren't many breaks in the music. Songs lingered past the five-minute mark, stretching into others, yet no one seemed to mind. They played effortlessly for hours, exactly why they have become a well-known name on the jam band scene. The two sets lasted hours and were packed with classics they have been playing since the band released their first album in 1999, such as "You Left Me in a Hole," "Mental Breakdown," and "If There's Still Ramblin' in the Rambler." The band also played songs off of their new album, including "Sidewalk Stars" and "Angel."

Never missing a beat or seeming tired, the four guys blended sounds that are usually only heard in the Appalachian hills. In the encore, Austin picked at his mandolin and Johnston gently strummed on the deep strings of the bass playing, "After Midnight," a song first made famous by Eric Clapton, giving it a fresh, new identity. Yonder's version was like the walking out of the standing room only venue and driving up I-75 to the blue-green hills of Kentucky.

Yonder Mountain captured both the old-fashioned spirit of bluegrass and the limitless improvisation of the jam band scene at the show. For one night only, everyone was from the Bluegrass state.

Live Music Review: Citizen Cope Pretty Much Sizzles

by Katie Wolitarsky

Darkness falls on the crowd. The local Georgia Theatre is at full capacity. Edging closer to the stage, bodies push and nudge against each other's unfamiliar silhouettes. Whispers, a few hollers and a girly scream try to fill the void. Drumsticks begin to tap. A blaze of light quickly glides across the stage. The guitar initiates a hum. Then, the voice, that distinctive gruff voice, moans. Clarence Greenwood (a.k.a. Citizen Cope) of Citizen Cope introduces the shadowy night February 9 with "Bullet and a Target."

The lights flash and pulse with the beat of the opener. The strange silhouettes transform into a more familiar collection of movements swaying side-to-side with their leader's words. The white-button down with sleeves rolled up, the pair of wrinkled khakis and the dark hair pulled back tightly all suggest Cope's relaxed tone for the night's show. He does not wear his emotions on his pressed white sleeve, but he is focused and concentrated. Cope takes the stage for one purpose only: to sing. He has no intention of instigating a mosh-pit or fanatical setting.

Cope seems distant and removed; he sings about things that matter and affect the world. From desperate love in "Pablo Picasso" to war and violence in "Southern Avenue," Cope finds a way to reach all angles. He sings, "The woman that I love/ is 40 feet tall," to express a sense of passion and envy that is beyond reach. He sings about aggression today and how "You don't have to go overseas to find war/ Because war finds you." His vocals bring out emotions behind the song and give us a glimpse into the man behind the microphone. You could probably see into his thoughts and prayers if he wasn't looking down the whole time.

There is also something comforting about his voice. The coarse hum from this ordinary guy is intriguing and captivating. It's almost hard to believe that these strong sounds and stirring lyrics are coming from him because his mouth hardly moves. He murmurs jagged lyrics through what seems to be a wired-shut jaw. But he makes it work.

"Sideways" is a well-liked song on this Saturday night. The crowd comes out of its daze and begins to liven up. Two girls throw their arms over each other's shoulders and awkwardly sway and sing. They know most of the words with the exception of a few uncertain mumbles. The song fades out and there is a lingering moment of anticipation.

Cope's more uplifting hit "Son's Gonna Rise" blasts, and the Abercrombie-wearing, high school majority goes nuts. Juvenile admirers, who are more focused on showing off their belly button rings and fake IDs, fill the venue.

Aware or not of the night's spectators, Citizen Cope closes with the strong beat of "Let the Drummer Kick." With every strike of the symbol and every thud of the drum, Cope is playing for the love of music; he feels the sound and the words. He uses his voice and melody with a purpose to teach and to grow. Cope is swept up in a lyrical emotion in which the stage, the sounds and his own words combine to give him fulfillment for the night.

Live Music Review: Wild Sweet Orange

by Shaina Mangino

What’s in name? A lot, apparently.
With sweet vocals and wild, fast-paced rhythms, this Birmingham, Alabama, quintet most certainly lives up to its name, Wild Sweet Orange.
Opening for Beyond Tomorrow on Friday, February 22, 2008, at one of downtown Athens’s most popular venues, 40 Watt, Wild Sweet Orange had some competition. The slim audience didn’t bode well and it looked as if the crowd that had arrived early just wanted to kick back and enjoy some drinks and play some pool until headliners Beyond Tomorrow arrived to give their farewell performance for friends and fans.
Suddenly, Chip Kilpatrick started pounding away on the drums. The vibrations rushed through my body. Wild Sweet Orange looked excited and ready to let the music run through their fingers.
Their opening song’s heavy, percussive beats effortlessly melded with Preston Lovinggood’s mellow lead vocals. It was an unusual sound, but in a good way. Their music is slow and soft with a surprising thunderous roar. They have promise.
Unfortunately, much of the audience hadn’t the faintest idea as to what they were singing. One girl asked if I knew the lyrics. No clue. Maybe it was simply an acoustics problem. It sounded like static, almost as if someone had left the television set tuned to one of those annoyingly fuzzy stations we all love so much. Every now and then a clear sentence would leak out, but nothing complete enough to add insight into what the lyrics were saying. However, Lovinggood’s soothing voice shined despite the poor sound quality.
Wild Sweet Orange looked comfortable not only on stage, but also in how they presented themselves. Their messy hair and t-shirt and jeans attitude were refreshing to see. They seemed to care more about the music and the emotion behind it than putting on a flashy show. They also interacted well with one another. There was a lot of jumping and dancing. Oh yeah, and we can’t forget the bouncing. Bassist Garret Kelly looked cracked out as he fiercely shook his head throughout the entire 45-minute performance. How was he not dizzy? How could he keep playing without falling over? It was a mystery.
One of the most popular songs of the evening, “Top Dead Dogs,” filled the space with a dreamy electric guitar. The touches of techno in the song added some duality to the airy quality of Lovinggood’s voice as he sang “Ah, ah, ah” throughout the chorus.
Sharing a single mic, guitarists Matt Parsons and Taylor Shaw harmonized well, adding another layer of interest to Wild Sweet Orange’s eclectic musical stylings.
As their set came to a close, the audience definitely started warming up to these quirky guys and 40 Watt was packed. Everyone looked like they were having a great time. People were on their feet by the eighth and final song, which was about the suburbs, Lovinggood said right before he began to play. One guy in the audience even began to wildly play the air drums. Hilarious.
Wild Sweet Orange has much potential. They credit Emmylou Harris and David Lynch as their primary influences with Harris having the overall folky quality of their songs and Lynch having the techno, intricate undertones of their drums and guitar playing. Even though many of their songs sounded similar, they had distinctive touches giving them a sound all their own. Kilpatrick’s drum playing had great body and dept as well. Their unique blend of sweet, folky ballads with more classic rock beats will make them go far. Whether or not you’re into the Indie music scene, Wild Sweet Orange’s raw talent is something almost anyone could appreciate and their creative percussion section will keep people listening.

Live Music Review: The Dave Brubeck experience

By Steven Carter

The concert's setup was majestic and grand, with a full orchestra flooding over much of the floor. Above them, a choir flowed through the pews. In front of them, Dave Brubeck's grand piano stood center stage, surrounded by the equipment of the other members of his quartet. The baritone vocalist resided in front of the piano, and lent his gigantic, commanding voice to the ensemble, singing the parts of Jesus. He certainly provided a dramatic, operatic air to the piece. Brubeck's friend and longtime conductor/arranger/ producer, Russell Gloyd, stood in front of the baritone, second in command to only Brubeck himself, and enthusiastically led the University of Georgia's Symphony Orchestra and Concert Choir through the work, which still felt as fresh today as when it originally appeared.


Dave Brubeck's oratorio, "The Light in the Wilderness," was the first of two concerts by the legendary jazz pianist, and part of a week-long residency at the University of Georgia's Hugh Hodgson School of Music. It was performed in its entirety at 8:00 P.M., February 13, 2008, at the University's Performing Arts Center. The piece was Brubeck's first oratorio (which is simply an extended musical composition written for voices and an orchestra, typically centered around religious themes), and was his first major work as a composer. It was being performed to celebrate the 40th anniversary of its premiere.

"The Light in the Wilderness" focuses mainly on the teachings of Christ, with much of the lyrics taken from the books of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, with other biblical passages peppered in, primarily from Psalms. The seeds for the piece were reportedly planted during Brubeck's time as a soldier during World War II, where he served under General George S. Patton.


Both the orchestra and the choir performed quite well and played their parts with grace while Brubeck looked on with approval, unable to conceal his pride and admiration when not playing, tapping his feet and slapping his knees in rhythm to his music. At times the piece roared and boomed, where the composition channeled the meticulous fury of Stravinsky. Then it would effortlessly glide back into choral bliss or launch into one of several mini-jazz jams, rounded out by impressive improvisations. The piece flowed throughout and was not just fascinating, but constantly engaging. Part jazz, part classical, the piece shifted back and forth between genres. One moment the spotlight would be cast only on the quartet, then in the next on the baritone vocalist, then on the choir, then on the full orchestra. The oratorio was obviously the work of a master musician, one with the versatility to do anything, the subtlety to do it gracefully, and enough experience to make it work as a complex, constantly evolving, cohesive piece.

A few students were sprinkled into the sold-out crowd consisting mostly of the white-haired and white-collared citizens of Clarke County, but most of the youth was relegated to the orchestra and the choir. Brubeck, 87, started off slow, but showed that his skills had not deteriorated with age as soon as his quartet's first scheduled improvisation came up. There were several improvisations built into the piece (because sometimes a jazz man just can't resist), and they flowed very well, never seeming gaudy or excessive. Saxophonist Bobby Militello stole much of the limelight with long solos that were smooth, and sometimes inspired, but relatively tame. Not tame in a negative way, inferring lack of skill, but tame meaning catered to its audience, sounding a little something like the Christmas-time jazz of Kenny G. On many occasions Brubeck would jam with only the drums, provided by Randy Jones, and the steady bass, provided by Michael Moore, backing him, and as a featured soloist, the nearly 90 year old man showed that he still possessed the dexterity of youth, as well as a razor sharp mind, and a complete awareness of what his fellow musicians were doing. It was truly mind-blowing. His solos are as interesting, intelligent, and technical as they were fifty years ago when he recorded the jazz masterpiece "Time Out."

All the members of his quartet performed well, showing why they were worthy of playing with the legend. Jones' drumming seemed simple enough, but he would invent some fascinating rhythms using as few pieces of his drum set as possible, and he provided a perfect balance to bassist Moore, who may have been the unsung hero of the performance. He never stole the show, but played solidly, helping to hold all the dissonant elements together.

It's impossible to tell what the crowd expected after watching Dave Brubeck walk out slowly, struggling to make it to his bench with small, difficult steps that showed the extensive toll the years have taken on his body. Brubeck was shown nothing but respect by the crowd, which honored the pianist with several standing ovations on almost every given occasion, the most memorable of which came after the show, when Brubeck labored back from offstage to receive the applause that refused to dissipate, even more than five minutes after show's end. He deserved nothing less.

The chances to see Brubeck live are fading fast. Anyone with the slightest interest in music, classical, jazz, or otherwise, or anyone who can appreciate well-crafted, layered works of art would be doing himself a great disservice by passing up on an opportunity to see one of America's greatest treasures.

Live Music Review: Sherwood and The Higher

Sometimes, you go to a concert and see people of all ages. Dave Matthews Band is probably a good example; their music appeals to both people that have mortgages and people that are not yet old enough to drive alike.

Other times, you go to a concert and you see people of all ages…because apparently, no one that bought tickets was old enough to drive themselves to the show. Parents ring the outer edge of the pit, coats and purses in hand, waiting for their child and his or her friends to get done moshing and singing along. Other parents wait in the car and read a book. Perhaps they’ll stop at McDonald’s for milkshakes on the way home.

Seeing Sherwood and The Higher play at the Masquerade in Atlanta was decidedly the second sort of experience. The club was filled with teenaged boys wearing their sister’s jeans and “guyliner” and girls that looked ambiguously similar in band tees and nearly destroyed Chuck Taylors. Their typical-looking suburban parents waited on the sidelines like they were at a soccer game instead of escorting their adolescent children to a concert in the section of an Atlanta punk club knows as “Hell.”

Before the music starts, the crowd can get kind of annoying to anyone over the age of 18. The feeling was akin to being back in high school; you’re odd kid, you don’t know any of these people and it’s hard to remember how to relate to them. Once the music starts, however, it may be the best way to see a show. The teenagers sang along like it was the last concert they’d ever see and they knew every word. That particular kind of devotion and joy is difficult to find at shows that skew to an older, “hipper” audience. After all, it’s hard to appear detached and impossibly cool if you’re bouncing around and singing along.

The Higher, a poppy band from Las Vegas opened the show with a perfectly serviceable set of entertaining and occasionally hip-shaking “emo” rock. Their type of music is the kind that lends itself well to live performance – simple guitar riffs and drum beats and vocals that don’t overly tax lead singer Seth Trotter’s abilities. This simplicity might belie Trotter’s full talent, however, if his covers of popular R&B songs on his personal MySpace are any indication. Of particular note was “Insurance,” an 80s-flavored confection that had everyone in the room, even those there only to see Sherwood, singing along to the chorus by the end.

Although it was clear that the majority of the crowd had come to see Sherwood, a California indie rock outfit that owes much of it’s fame to MySpace founder Tom Anderson’s adoration and support, their performance didn’t fair quite as well. Of particular disappointment was arguably the band’s best song yet, ‘Alley Cat,’ a subtle track with enough electronic beeps and boops in the background to make the casual listener think they were hearing The Postal Service. When played live, however, most of the subtle charm is lost. It might have been an ambitious choice to try and recreate that song in concert anyway, so Sherwood probably deserves credit for trying.

The rest of their material, being significantly less nuanced, translated quite a bit better to the live show atmosphere and the nearly sellout crowd sang along and ate up every word. Even though the entire thing was fairly average, it was hard not to be overtaken by the infectious, youthful energy of the crowd. For a night, even the older kids got to remember what it was like to be 16 and think music could change the world.

Live Music Review: Some Trendy New Atrocity

Adam Lipper
2. 29. 08

It’s hard to be critical of a band that gives itself a scathing review moments after stepping onstage. Being the band’s second live performance, lead vocalist and bassist Chris Seibert gave a brief biography of the Athens’ trio - “We’re Some Trendy New Atrocity, a Primus cover band, and we suck.”

The 30-person audience at The Library on Tuesday responded with hoopla and a few jeers – “Yeah, Primus sucks.” It was a two-line conversation that repeated itself throughout the nine-set, forty-minute show. If there’s this much accord between band and audience, how much light can a critic shine on the situation?

Yet, shortly into the opening song, “Seas of Cheese,” which includes the line for the tribute band’s name, it’s evident that Seibert misspoke. They do not suck. They captured the true tone of Primus, nailing the Californian band’s metal-energy rifts, fluctuating volume levels and quirky edge.

This was in large part to Seibert, who outshined the other two members. Besides handling the difficult bass solos, Seibert delivered the lyrics in quick machinegun-like bursts. Although often indecipherable to anyone not a Primus enthusiast, the spoken words added an extra-dose of rhythm to the songs.

While it’s usually the drummer who paces the band, Seibert’s enthusiasm and talent kept the group afloat. Drummer Tony Ulbrandt played in a malaise, looking bored at times. The major shortcoming was guitarist Hal Gruetzemacher, who struggled to keep up with his more-established partners. His eyes meticulously followed his hands every movement, making sure not to strike a wrong chord, while sacrificing any onstage showmanship.

Seibert and Ulbrandt’s old heavy-metal band Aegis of Athena , formerly known as Tristan and Isolde, played its final show last semester. In order to stay active in the Athens music scene, the duo created Some Trendy New Atrocity, adding Gruetzemacher to complete the band.

Yet, after witnessing their second show, it’s apparent that there’s more to the group’s creation than just staying active. This was about taking a break from socializing to play a few songs for friends and family (Seibert’s mom watched from the bar).

Before the eighth track, two members from the audience thanked Seibert by offering him a taste of Jäger. Seibert downed the shot with the two fans and screamed out to the crowd, “And it’s now officially a big rock show.”

For the second time that night, Seibert misspoke.

Some Trendy New Atrocity isn’t great music; it’s not even consistently good music. But it adds substance to a Tuesday night, not just for the audience, but for the band members as well. Acts like these keep the Athens music scene alive.

Live Music Review: No Tomorrow for local band

By Rachel Webster

You might have seen elements of the show before: five young guys playing head-bobbing power pop, jumping around the stage energetically while an equally young audience screams and coos at all the right times. But this particular show is one you won’t see again.

There’s no tomorrow for Beyond Tomorrow.

The Athens band called it quits with flair befitting their popularity, packing out the 40 Watt February 22 with over 400 friends and fans.

Considering the pop feel of the music of these five gentlemen, fronted by a decidedly strapping Patrick Hoydar, there were a surprising number of males in the audience, most of whom knew a surprising amount of Beyond Tomorrow’s lyrics.

“Take off your clothes if they don’t feel right!” sang the crowd in unison with Hoydar, affectionately called “Hodar” by fans and band mates alike.

That’s how this band is. The guys are open and friendly, and the shows are relaxed and energetic.

Here’s a band with something for everyone: enough grit and guitar to satisfy rock sensibilities mixed with enough fun and earnestness to cause swooning. The guys were probably there willingly, and the girls were positively flocking.

Beyond Tomorrow has performed in Athens venues many a time since forming at the University of Georgia in 2005.

They have plenty of practice. That was obvious in their smooth transitions between songs and comfortable banter with the audience. They have energy, unflagging through fifteen songs even as the time approached 2 a.m. By now, the show could easily have become stale, but the guys threw in some new spice for their final appearance.

Take, for example, the band’s encore: a spirited cover of The Who’s “Baba O’Reilly” flowing seamlessly into Beyond Tomorrow’s original “This One’s For You.”

The former felt like a tribute to Athens’ football Saturdays (the song plays in Sanford Stadium before every Bulldogs home football game), while the latter literally dedicated the set to the fans. It was heartfelt and full of hometown appreciation.

This show, however, had something extra.

It had nostalgia, coloring every “It’s been fun” anecdote and “We couldn’t have done it without you” acknowledgement between songs. It had the cocky swagger appropriate to a band of talented twenty-something males. Mostly, though, it had finality. The band’s bows were like a sigh of relief upon coming to rest after a long journey.

They played well, sounded great, but also seemed accepting of the fact that it was over.

There are probably other pop-punk bands jamming assiduously around Athens, imploring crowds to make some noise and put their hands in the air. With this farewell show, however, Beyond Tomorrow showed the heart that Athens will miss.

CD Review: The most soulful band you've never heard of

By Steven Carter

Khronos, the second album by the relatively unknown Seattle band Maktub, resonates with more soul than a Pentecostal revival. Reggie Watts' baritone voice glides in effortlessly, silky smooth over streamlined bass grooves that not even a dead man could sit still to, while Thaddeus Turner's muted guitar gently whispers in the background, softly accenting the mood with six strings of soul. His guitar stretches songs across genres, especially on tracks like "So Tired" and "We've Got Desire", that start out smooth, with catchy soulful lyrics that latch onto the ear like a hook, reeling the listener in, while the band builds in intensity and Turner starts cranking out power chords as his backbeat intensifies. This heavier rock side peers its head out in some songs, but never feels forced or obtrusive. Instead it always feels natural and helps to round the songs out, making them feel a little more complex and complete.

But the music of Maktub is so much more than soul with a heavy side. It's music that generates from the hearts of artists who are just trying to have some fun, who haven't found commercial success after four albums and more than a decade, but haven't given up, and continue to sound better and better. They sound like no other band you have ever heard of (with the possible exception of Soulive, but even that is a stretch).

Though all members of the band are extremely talented, vocalist Watts controls the spotlight with a sugary-sweet falsetto that can effortlessly plunge deep down into a baritone tapestry of words. Watts has a better voice than most pop singers on the charts today, and he will have you hooked with his lyrics like a trout lying helpless in a garden pond. If you have any soul, you'll be singing along to every song by the end of the first play through.

CD Review: Shelter Belt's "Songs from Extraordinary Leverage"

By Amanda Mull

Certain cities become famous for certain types of music: Detroit and R&B, Atlanta and hip-hop, Seattle and grunge, and most recently, Omaha and hipster indie rock. From the Omaha music scene that has brought us indie wunderkinds such as Bright Eyes and Cursive now come Shelter Belt, a seven-member collective that are positive that they’re the best band you’ve never heard of.
It’s a lofty assertion indeed, but after a few spins through their most recent material, Music from the film ‘Extraordinary Leverage,’ you just might be convinced that they’re right. The higher-than-average number of people in the band allows them to achieve a sonic richness that few bands strive for and even fewer attain, and it allows them to make every one of their songs different from the last.
Music from the film ‘Extraordinary Leverage’ is the soundtrack to a short film produced by Anthony Knuppel, the band’s drummer, and featuring several band members as actors. The film is amusing, but the musicians should probably stick to their day jobs, because the accompanying music is excellent and at times even innovative.
Some of the credit can be given to the fact that Shelter Belt collaborate on the music with Omaha legend Luigi Waites, a jazz drummer and vibraphonist that has played with the likes of Ella Fitzgerald and James Brown in his decades-long career. Waites’ contributions to songs like “Only So Much” give the music a depth of sound that makes them intriguing even after repeated listening, and he brings to the table many sonic flourishes largely missing from modern popular music (when was the last time you heard a vibraphone in a pop song?).
The fact that a legend like Waites is not the first thing you notice about the music, though, is a testament to the quality of work that the band is producing. “What Do You Say?” thumps along with a beat highly reminiscent of Pat Benetar’s “Love is a Battlefield” but somehow manages to not sound at all retro or rehashed.
Shelter Belt’s particular brand of rock is both happy and sad, fast and slow, heavy and light. They change their style with every song and show an amazing range of talent, since all of their material is at least reliably good, and some of the quicker songs are great. They should easily be more famous than they are, but at least now they can’t claim you’ve never heard of them.