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: 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.