Sleepytime Gorilla Museum, Listo, and Now You at The Independent, San Francisco, 4/10/11
I suppose disbanding was inevitable. Over the last few years, as Sleepytime band members became parents and geographical distances became a barrier to regular rehearsals, I was expecting at the very least an extended hiatus. The announcement that this California mini-tour (just three cities: San Diego, L.A., and San Francisco) would be their last came as no surprise. The show reviewed here marks the official closing of the Museum doors, although a film, live DVD, and final album are promised. At moments like this it’s important to keep in mind that, with the individual members being so damn musical, different band permutations involving them will continue to delight the ears of adventurous audiences and unsuspecting invertebrates for decades to come.
Due to prior commitments, Jeanine and I were in Concord playing with balloons while the recently added matinee show was in progress. Greg reported that a fine time was had by all, with Greenless Wreath, Salt Crown, S.P.Q.R., and many other songs being played. In fact, between the afternoon and evening shows, they ended up playing almost their entire discography.
Arriving in San Francisco, we stopped in at the Bean Bag Café across the street and had a nice dinner. Despite years of going to The Independent (and prior venues at that address), I’d never eaten there before. They serve a mean crepe and perfect French fries, not to mention sorely needed caffeine.
Once inside, we didn’t have to wait long before Now You arrived on stage. Now You is a duo featuring Sleepytime’s Carla Kihlstedt on violin and vocals and Matthias Bossi on keyboards, cajon, bass harmonica, and such. The first song was a musical rendition of a poem by Robert Creeley, with delicate violin and vocals by Carla, and pensive piano by Matthias (he mentioned at one point that the sustain pedal was stuck down, making everything more romantic sounding). The set progressed with songs fleshed out at various times by cajon, Matthias using the top of the piano as a percussion instrument, bass harmonica, whistling, and hand clapping. The few times when Matthias and Carla sang together were also quite entrancing. Carla introduced the song Silverfish by explaining that it was originally meant to be a Sleepytime song but the band was too busy re-learning the old songs to get around to using it. It proved to be a song about reading, which is always a good thing in my book. A line I seem to remember is “silverfish swimming through a sea of frozen words”, which is much more poetic than an insect which eats the glue in book bindings probably deserves. Still, it’s a beautiful image. At times, Carla’s playing and singing brought to mind Czech violinist Iva Bittova, but without sounding derivative in any way.
The next band, Listo, was completely unknown to me. Even now, I find that I can’t find any sort of website for them (edited to add: here's their Myspace page). They didn’t have any wares on display at the merch table either. Very mysterious. Listo is a duo of guitar and drums, with both members singing, although some songs were instrumentals. The guitarist soon proved to be one of the most unconventional players I’ve seen in a long time, spewing forth angular, stop-start riffs which owed as much to deft manipulation of the volume knob as it did to anything he was doing with the strings. I suppose some might call the music “math rock”, and given the precise, off kilter riffing and a masterful use of silence, I’d have to agree that math rock is as good a term as any. The guitar sound was raw and clean, and the drumming was almost tribal sounding at times. I found myself liking the drummer’s voice more, as it occasionally had a weathered, world weary sound to it. My one complaint is that most of the songs sounded more like musical vignettes, seeming to begin and end abruptly with no real build-up or climax. In the middle of their set, an audience member who was perhaps a little too impatiently waiting for Sleepytime shouted out, “go back to asshole!”, to which the guitarist calmly replied, “I never left.” Grace under pressure, that. Their set ended with a Pansonic cover, although I couldn’t tell you which song, since I’m unfamiliar with Pansonic beyond having seen their name here and there.
Listo’s set ended, and we waited. Somewhere near me, a guy in a pair of overalls waved a flaming stick of incense in the air. It looked like a stick of wood from where I was standing. The wait wasn’t long, and before we knew it, The Sleepytime Gorilla Museum procession wound its way through the crowd, with tin whistles and banners bobbing up and down. The band climbed onto stage and Nils said that he’d like to dedicate the set to the audience that had followed Sleepytime for so many long years ,but couldn’t because he’d already dedicated it to your grandma in Stockton and her friend who wasn’t into music at all but always had a pot of coffee on. This set the stage banter tone for the rest of the evening, and soon the band settled themselves in with a stellar version of The Companions, with Michael Mellender’s trumpet playing giving it a particularly mournful note.
The sound was crystal clear, with the low end being particularly pleasurable to hear. Strangely though, it wasn’t loud enough to require earplugs. Either that, or my hearing has degenerated more than I think it has. Michael and Matthias formed a percussive backbone, and later when Moe! joined them and all three were pounding away, it was truly beautiful to behold. Carla’s amazing violin playing and voice, and Dan’s motley collection of handmade instruments sounded as good as they ever have, and Nils distinctive guitar playing and vocals were as good as ever. I’ve always loved the way the songs build and climax, and it has been nice seeing them evolve over the years, although it’s sad to note that they now have reached the apex of their evolution. There has always been an element of playfulness in the arrangements, which is another thing I will miss. Enough of this maudlin reverie though. The Companions was followed by Phthisis, and suddenly there was Moe! on stage, making extra percussive noise. I especially loved the jumbo-sized ratchet noisemaker he whirled around his head throughout the evening, although I found myself worrying that he’d inadvertently bean Nils with it. Moe! stayed on stage for Ambugaton too before disappearing for awhile. At the beginning of FC: The Freedom Club, an audience member somewhere to my right let out what sounded like a verbal orgasm. I guess he was excited about its inclusion in the set. So was I, since it’s one of my favorite Sleepytime songs, both lyrically (about Ted Kaczynski’s message to the world – read the “Futurists vs. the Unabomber comparison in the liner notes to the “Of Natural History” CD if you haven’t already) and musically. This was followed by Angle of Repose, Ossuary, and the as yet unrecorded Salamander, all sounding lovely of course.
For Cockroach, Inkboat’s Shinichi Iova-Koga appeared in a far corner of the venue and made his insectoid way along the narrow, ledge-like table lining the raised seating area. He later told me that one woman threatened to kill him if he touched her. Apparently people willingly got out of the way during the matinee show, but for the evening show lots of clueless and/or tense audience members chose to sit on the table. Perhaps they didn’t realize that he was part of the performance He eventually made it safely onto a platform in the corner, where he continued to dance for a few more songs. After Cockroach, there was a brief pause while we were treated to a trailer for the upcoming Sleepytime/Inkboat movie, “The Last Human Being”. It looks like it’s going to be a lot of fun, more or less following the “Last Human Being” concept that Sleepytime toured with a number of years ago, with Shinichi playing the last human being. Of course, the next song was The Last Human Being, sped up and much different sounding than I remember it (although, maybe I’m just getting old and forgetful). This was followed by my favorite of their newer songs, Endless Smear. The last time I saw them perform this, at The Great American Music Hall, an army of acoustic guitarists provided a beautiful surround-sound accompaniment at the end. This time, I saw and heard only one guitar. The call for acoustic guitarists seemed to have largely gone unheeded. Perhaps people didn’t want to bother with the hassle of carrying their guitars around. Their online messages about bringing (much more portable) bells seemed to have been more effective, since many of us brought them. One woman even had bells around her ankles. There never ended up being a specific time set aside for bell ringing though, so bells rang throughout the evening. Moe! rejoined the band for Powerless, and this was followed by a snarling version of Helpless Corpses Enactment and main set closer Sleepytime, which still remains one of my favorite older songs, so it was more than nice to hear it dusted off and performed once again.
Moe! and Shinichi were on stage for the encore of Hymn to the Morning Star (with Nils channeling the blues), The Donkey-Headed Adversary of Humanity Opens the Discussion, and a massive version of Sleep Is Wrong. During the part of the song where the band pretends to fall asleep, Nils thanked the crew, and the staff of The Independent, as well as the Sleepytime moms and kids.
Then it was all over except for the flowers and drying sweat as people milled around to pay their respects before filing out into the early morning San Francisco streets. The set was over two and a half hours long, and it was almost 1:00 AM.
R.I.P. Sleepytime. Long live Sleepytime.
The final shirt:
Free stickers!:
Upcoming show:
Below are some images from the Museum archives - a 2004 ticket stub and audience participation opportunities which for some reason I found stuffed inside my "Of Natural History" CD digipak:
And finally, for those of you who have read this far, the video for Helpless Corpses Enactment:
Posted by: |