At a time when niche-oriented record labels, audiences and musicians are the norm, Ben Harper is a wonderfully refreshing freak.
The 26-year-old Californian is an astonishingly gifted songwriter whose music flows seamlessly between dark Delta blues, sleekly pulsing R&B, gorgeous balladry, Texas-style folk and low-key rock. Regardless of the style, Harper’s tunes boast striking melodies and insinuating hooks that beautifully convey a range of emotion.
Harper sticks strictly to acoustic guitars, dobro and the Weissenborn, a hollow-neck lap slide guitar dating from the 1920s. Yet he produces an amazing array of sound from such seemingly limited resources.
“The strings on electric guitars are too thin,” Harper remarks with a laugh. “Man, I can’t do nothin’ with those tiny little nine-gauge strings. I never felt comfortable with them. I definitely plan to stay with acoustic instruments. I want to bring new tone and sound to acoustic playing.”
His potent, socially conscious lyrics often rely on evocative narratives and poetic metaphor rather than didactic hectoring. Harper’s songs take you on journeys through the emptiness of jilted lovers, the despair of the homeless and the rage of the oppressed.
While Harper has been tagged as a folkie, his definition of “folk” is unusually inclusive. “I want to put the funk back in folk,” he says. “Folk music has become too clever. It’s lost its definition and been horribly watered down, as has the blues. Traditionally, folk music is music from the root. It’s music of the people for the betterment of the people. Woody Guthrie. Robert Johnson. Bob Marley. Public Enemy. Jimi Hendrix was electric folk.”
Harper is currently touring in support of his most recent record “Fight For Your Mind,” a marvelously diverse showcase of fine musicianship and exceptional songwriting. Where tunes like “Ground on Down” and “People Lead” are propelled by raw-boned blues riffs, “Another Lonely Day” and “Give a Man a Home” deliver achingly beautiful introspection.
Ben Harper will perform Saturday night at Metro.
Anarchy in the UIC
Curious about Green Day’s current musical development? Don’t be. “Insomniac,” the follow-up to the band’s major label mega-hit “Dookie,” demonstrates that Billie Joe, Mike and Tre are blissfully stuck in their scruffy punk-rock rut.
Though the band presumably had the resources and the freedom to do whatever it wanted on “Insomniac,” the trio opted to forgo duets with Sinead O’Connor, jams with Yanni and cameo spots by Liz Phair and Sinatra. Instead, “Insomniac” dishes out a succinct, 30-minute pummeling delivered with the band’s trademark hook-y, snotty, barre-chord crud.
In vintage punk fashion, the lyrics are rapid-fire salvos against complacency, drug abuse and hypocrisy, undergirded by a ceaseless guitar-bass-drum racket. It ain’t “original,” but then it’s not trying to be. In short, “Insomniac” is pure adrenalized punk-pop that Q101 will rotate into absolute annoyance.
Green Day is in town for a show Wednesday night at the UIC Pavilion.
Shane MacGowan and the Popes, Sunday at the Metro: Though he vowed he and his new band would never dip into the Pogues’ 100 Proof songbook, Shane MacGowan and the Popes quaffed that hefty jug down to the lees during their previous show here a few months ago. The Popes splashed out tunes from every Pogues record with manic verve and well-oiled aplomb. The result was a woozily rousing show that recalled the Pogues in their heyday.
The Estrus Invitationals, Friday and Saturday at the Empty Bottle: The Estrus Records label is dedicated to keeping the flame of ’60s garage rock stoked to incandescence. The label is home to a pack of great bands that individually bring something unique to three-chord guitar-fueled rebellion. The sensational Mono Men headline both nights. The troglodytic Drags and Impala open Friday night while the Lord High Fixers and the wonderfully catchy Insomniacs open on Saturday. Fun is unconditionally guaranteed.
The BoDeans, Wednesday at the Chicago Theatre: Truly, we live in a wonderful country. It’s the kind of place where a band with absolutely nothing distinctive or original about it, like the BoDeans, can still achieve a measure of popularity. There’s nothing wrong with the BoDeans; they’re just middle-of-the-road with a vengeance. (This show is sold out.)
Smokey Robinson, Friday and Saturday at the Paramount Theater: Motown Records was once awash with stars, but Smokey Robinson, along with Marvin Gaye and Stevie Wonder, was one of the label’s few true artists. Less scintillating than Gaye and lacking Wonder’s adventurousness, Robinson was Motown’s supreme craftsman. His lyrics were infused with a truly poetic thoughtfulness, and his knack for pairing an irresistible melody with just the right groove remains unparalleled.
Electrafixion, early show Friday at the Metro: Electrafixion reunites former Echo and the Bunnymen principals, vocalist Ian McCulloch and guitarist Will Sergeant. As Electrafixion, they resuscitate the atmospheric pop of the latter-day Bunnymen and trim it with brassy, hard-edged guitar riffing. While the band’s new album, “Burned,” won’t make you forget the lugubrious brilliance of “Crocodiles,” it’s more potent and interesting than McCulloch’s sometimes tepid solo work.
Palace, Saturday at the Lounge Ax: Will Oldham (a k a Palace) writes mournful, unkempt, plaintive songs that whisper and wail like old hillbilly ghosts. The young Kentuckian’s early records were so studiedly rural and ragged, one wondered if they were pure shtick. But Oldham’s more recent tunes manifested the depth and variety of a ripening talent. Palace’s newest record, “Viva Last Blues,” recalls Dylan, Loudon Wainwright and “Harvest”-era Neil Young with a cycle of strikingly distinctive, beautifully recorded songs that are clearly the work of a talented, fascinating songwriter.
Boss Hog, late show Friday at the Metro: As with most Jon Spencer-related projects, Boss Hog’s music inhabits the dark, dank crawlspace between gut-bucket R&B, Stooges-style punk and the Stones at their rawest. The band’s recent eponymous record on DGC is a hard-rocking, occasionally experimental groove-fest imbued with a subterranean bump-and-grind vibe.
Marilyn Manson, two shows Wednesday at the Metro: Like Alice Cooper, Marilyn Manson is the name of both a male lead singer and his theatrical shock-troop band. Unlike Alice Cooper, Marilyn Manson is utterly devoid of cleverness, humor and great rock ‘n’ roll. Instead, Marilyn strives for unplumbed depths of vulgarity. If you think this cartoon is cutting-edge, you should have your mom let you out of the playpen more often.
My Life With The Thrill Kill Kult, Wednesday at the Vic: Though an aura of seamy menace surrounds MLWTTKK, the band’s recent music is about as dangerous as a poodle in a leather jerkin. With its bouncy horn-goosed tunes, disco dance beats and life-on-the-edge lyrics, the band’s current record, “Hit & Run Holiday,” sounds like the B-52’s gigging a Hells Angels retirement party. MLWTTKK headlines the Ray Gun magazine tour with Eve’s Plum and Big Stick.
Joan Armatrading, Friday at the Vic: Joan Armatrading has been a consistently respected presence in pop music for more than 20 years. Like other talented, enduring songwriters, she’s had some brushes with chart success and committed some stylistic miscues, but continues to hold the rapt attention of a small, devoted, discerning fan base. She’s in town supporting her highly touted new record, “What’s Inside.”
