Music

I don't typically watch Dancing with the Stars, the television program that allowed Tom DeLay to sort of dance, sort of flop his disgraced ex-minority-whip self across its well-lit and inordinately shiny stage.
But you know what? The musicianship featured by the rotating house bands on the program is pure dynamite. That's right: pure dynamite, even if you do have to listen to it while watching some bloated B-movie star or long-retired professional athlete awkwardly gyrate while wearing embarrassing get-ups. But a couple weeks ago, I heard that Tiempo Libre – the same Cuban music septet slated to hit the Tower stage on Tuesday night – would be playing on the show, I figured I would set down the remote and give a listen.

Canada's hip-hop contributions may not have been as respected, as say, the country's contribution to curling and ice hockey or its French-fry-and-gravy culinary innovations. Artists like Snow (of “Informer” infamy) have given our northern neighbors a reputation that was hard to shake. These days, however, a solid Canadian underground hip-hop scene has materialized and legitimate groups like Kardinal, Drake, Sweatshop Union and Swollen Members have helped to eradicate past indiscretions.

Galaxie 500
Today
Released 1988

Galaxie 500's debut, Today, is the sum of an odd confluence of events that conspired to make a genius record. The Boston trio of school friends formed in 1986 with Naomi Yang (who was just learning the bass) and a sound that was atypical relative to the scene at the time. But with the guidance of famed underground rock producer Kramer, Today was released as a solid marker that the band had arrived.

A few years ago, Jason Beard found himself in his garage late at night as Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon played in the background. This really isn't unique – 30 percent of American males have probably been privy to a late-night Dark Side garage session. But what happened next is where things get interesting. Surrounded by recording equipment and instruments, Beard picked up his mandolin and started playing along. It's an odd marriage – the congress off a bluegrassy instrument and rock's seminal piece of psychedlia – but it worked for Beard, a founding member of Bay Area genre-smashers Poor Man's Whiskey, and by morning he'd outlined a bluegrass adaptation of the album.

Going to see guitarist/songwriter Leo Kottke perform live is a lot like walking downstairs on Christmas morning and seeing all of the brightly wrapped presents under the tree – you'll receive several gifts you expected, some flat-out surprises and a few more that make everyone in the room glance at each other with beaming smiles.
Kottke, whose personal life is as ambiguous as his chord phrasings, doesn't give many interviews, but he talked to the Source via e-mail about his long career and his recent exposure to a younger audience.

No, it's not a covers record. Nor is it a greatest hits collection. In fact, you may not know Yo La Tengo yet. Well, here's the quick rundown. The Hoboken trio has been twisting the alt-rock genre since 1984 and are heralded by critics and underground rock fans for their ability to create often catchy yet strangely unpredictable songs.
Popular Songs, their 14th studio album, is a fine representation of the group's skill in penning songs with incredible depth. “Here to Fall” opens the record as a perfect example of said depth. From quiet beginnings, the song builds a complex layer of dreamscape melody packed with a bunch of interesting instrumentation. By contrast, the super-catchy “Nothing to Hide” is one of those tracks that in my ideal world would be played all over mainstream radio. “When It's Dark” is a wonderfully easygoing acoustic-based tune that a Wilco fan might dig. Completing their overtly dynamic range is “If It's True” which uses Hammond organ as a backbone and clean string section to deliver a tight thoughtful pop song.

At the Bend Roots Revival a couple weeks back, the sun was starting to set and the crowd at the Victorian Café grew steadily as curious onlookers tried to get a better view, and perhaps more dancing space, as by far the most bizarre act of the weekend cranked away on the stage.
The act was a trio called Ruins of Ooah and it doesn't have a guitar player, or a bass player or keyboardist. There's no horn section or turntables or any of that fare. It's just your typical didjeridu, harmonica and drums collective… not that this is typical by any means. Tyler Spencer, a local didjeridu maker (that's a typical profession, right?) leads the act, which also includes Justus Williams on harmonica and Adam Bushey on drums, both of whom are based out of Eugene and once accompanied Spencer in that city's jam band of record, Reeble Jar.