Alicia Vanden Heuvel: A Bedrock of the Local Music Community

Few community ecosystems are as combustible and volatile as the ones surrounding local musicians.

Even during the best of times, before artistic endeavors had been commodified and marginalized by ravenous market forces, eking out a viable living as a full-time musician was a perilous act—an existence seemingly always threatened by an unscrupulous landlord or one unexpected illness. Cities that acted as magnets for creative types also inherently drew in other outside interests—ones with deeper pockets and different ideas for urban living—leading to ever-increasing rents and gentrification.

San Francisco has long been viewed as a test case for such conditions, yet despite the ever-changing nature of the city, it has continued to host engaging and vibrant musical scenes throughout its history (it’s really not even worth entertaining the tired, hackneyed statements arguing the opposite.)

To sustain something so powerful, yet also fragile, requires a communal spirit. These groupings do not survive on happenstance. They require dedicated, selfless and passionate advocates—people like Alicia Vanden Heuvel.

A lifelong musician who’s played starring and supporting roles in countless bands, Vanden Heuvel is also a producer, engineer and label owner—the rare someone who can provide insight about both esoteric recording techniques and the byzantine nature of the music business.

Since 2022, she has been managing Speakeasy Studios SF, a record label that caters to local artists. It bears the same name as the recording studio that she’s operated since 1996 (with a few breaks here and there.) The recording studio is donation-based for the musicians who work with Vanden Heuvel.

“I try to be very intentional with my work—I really admire the idea of being of service to others,” said Vanden Heuvel. “It’s a very challenging time right now, and I’m just trying to foster some sense of hope by helping out other musicians. I want to be able to help—to make things just a little bit better and easier for my community.”

Running a label and recording studio seems like the logical next step for Vanden Heuvel, who’s been involved in music for nearly her entire life. Growing up in the small town of Desert Hot Springs near the Mojave Desert, Vanden Heuvel was raised by a musical family. By the time she was in high school, she was eager to share her considerable keyboard skills with the nearby bands, but since many of them were of the stoner metal vein (think Kyuss), she didn’t quite match their needs. 

In 1992, she enrolled at UC-Santa Cruz, and quickly found a more like-minded group of compatriots, which included Becky Barron and Stephen Vesecky. Together, they formed Poundsign, a wistful, dreamily lo-fi pop group. That outfit attracted a dedicated cult following, and helped set the template for so much of the sound that Vanden Heuvel would explore in the future. Employing skills that she was honing at the time as part of her film school studies, Vanden Heuvel took on production responsibilities for the band—her first foray into the kind of studio roles that would be her trademark. Poundsign also afforded Vanden Heuvel a precocious insight into what dynamics are necessary to make a band work. 

“I feel like what I really studied in college was how to be in a band,” said Vanden Heuvel. “One year we toured the States in Stephen’s Volvo and the next year we went in my Ford Escort. “We would map out our tour based on wherever we were playing on college radio stations. We ended up playing with a lot of punk bands at that time, which was interesting, since we were a pop group. But it was an incredible experience to be doing that at such a young age.”

After graduating from college, Vanden Heuvel moved to San Francisco and linked up with AV Linton, a talented songwriter then playing in the noise group Henry’s Dress. With that act winding down, Linton suggested forming a new band with Vanden Heuvel, a group that eventually became The Aislers Set. 

Celebrated by luminaries such as British DJ John Peel, The Aislers Set acted as a staple of the legendary Oakland label Slumberland Records and evolved into a massively influential band. The group’s janglepop sound—shaped in large part by Linton and Vanden Heuvel’s’s production skills and multi-instrumental talents—still looms large in the San Francisco scene, with bands such as the Umbrellas and Chime School citing them as influences. 

With The Aislers Set going on hiatus in 2003, Vanden Heuvel continued to play in an array of different San Francisco bands (Dirty Ghosts, Brigid Dawson & the Mothers Network, and Magic Trick, to name a few) acting as a bedrock of an ever-evolving and shifting music community. She also opened the doors of her self-made studio located in the basement of her (rent-controlled) apartment, providing an oasis for bands looking for affordable technical insight and support. 

“I never wanted to charge anyone to use my studio,” said Vanden Heuvel, who mentioned that donations are always welcome, as they help with studio upkeep of the analog equipment. “I view this as an extension of my artwork. We usually have a conversation beforehand about how this is an artistic collaboration. It’s the same thing as painting a mural together.”

Over the years, Vanden Heuvel has lent her professional production skills to countless Bay Area artists, including Dawn Riding, Anna Hillburg, Yea-Ming and the Rumors, Andres Miguel Cervantes, The Telephone Numbers, Ryan Wong and Josiah Flores.

Since expanding those efforts to include the Speakeasy record label, Vanden Heuvel has moved beyond providing technical recording wizardry to receptive local artists. A bespoke operation, Speakeasy is a band-focused label that provides much needed one-on-one support for its roster, which includes many of the aforementioned names, in addition to acts like Jacob Aranda, the Lost Days and revered Bay Area pop master, Tony Molina, who is also Vanden Heuvell’s husband. 

As an industry veteran, Vanden Heuvel also educates her clients on complex business intricacies, urging them all to own their master recordings and to be aware of the various royalty groups they need to belong to in order to collect song payments. She’s also just a huge fan of music, and that dedication is not lost among her collaborators.

“Alicia's been a supporter of Galore since the beginning—just her presence in the front row singing along to our songs would be enough to encourage the hell out of us, because we're such a fan of her and her music,”  Ava Sayaka Rosen, guitarist and vocalist of local indie rock band Galore, who are set to release an album through Speakeasy next year. “To be able to work with her now on putting out a record is a revelation because of the way she guides us with full transparency and a true sense of care and collaboration through the process. She even demystified the 5 different royalty buckets using condiment bottles and saltshakers”

Ainsley Wagoner, who also plays in Galore in addition to recording solo work under the moniker of Silverware, offered similar sentiments.

“DIY music is such a grind, and those who have been at it for decades (like Alicia) can understandably get worn down,” said Wagoner. “But somehow, Alicia is incredibly positive and generous - alchemizing all her experience as a player, songwriter, engineer, and producer into supporting other people's projects whether it's as a band member, record label owner, fan, or mentor. She's the real deal, and there are very few who carry themselves with as much integrity, warmth, and love as she does.”

Despite all the joy it offers, music can be a slog for those who inhabit its professional universe, particularly in San Francisco. Fortunately, practitioners like Vanden Heuvel are around to help ease those burdens and ensure that everyone gets to revel in the wonders of the artform.

“I have been living here since the 90s and I have witnessed so many changes,” said Vanden Heuvel. “It’s important to recognize that it’s not easy to live here. I try to be as active as I can be to help people succeed in this city that I love. I don’t have all the answers, but I try to help where I can. And I still have so much hope for this place.”

Dave Benton of Trace Mountains Coming to Thee Parkside on December 7

Photo Credit: Sam Soard

Dave Benton has never shied away from summoning up his indie rock forebears.

As one of the primary songwriters for revered cult rock group LVL UP, Benton famously penned the couplet, “’I feel insane when you get in my bed’/Is something sweet that the Silver Jews said,” for the opening line of “I Feel Extra Natural,” one of the band’s most beloved songs. Along with acknowledging the obvious (that line is sweet), it was also a playful way of paying homage to the legends that helped shape the shaggy and accessible energy of the band.

A decade later and now recording under the moniker Trace Mountains, Benton still seeks the guidance and direction of his DIY predecessors. On “Won’t Go Home,” the defiant, mordant closing track on his outstanding 2024 album, “Into the Burning Blue,” Benton wails about his formative memories, blaring out “Like a curious kid/burning ants on the pavement/making out in the basement/when you first heard the Replacements/’Bastards of Young’ and ‘Androgynous’ helped you make it.” 

The stanza acts almost as a righteous motivational call to action—an inspirational marker aimed directly at his own heart and brain. 

“I had this real angsty teenager thing going on at the time I was writing that song,” said Benton. “I was back living at home and just feeling very moody at the time, not being nice to my parents. It was just like being a kid again, and so those memories of the Replacements just came flooding back to me. I was kind of talking to my old self there.”

The reason for Benton’s adolescent angst (and for his unexpected move back to his parents' New Jersey home) was the recent end of his eight-year relationship with his girlfriend. “Into the Burning Blue” candidly chronicles the dissolution of that relationship, pairing that painful breakup with the larger existential challenges adults in their 30s face as they struggle to navigate  inhospitable economic, social and political environments. 

On December 7, he’ll perform selections from his stirring new album at Thee Parkside, with support from Vermont-based songwriter Lily Seabird. It will be Trace Mountains first headlining show in San Francisco.

Always a candid, erudite songwriter with LVL UP, Benton has peeled back even more layers on “Into the Burning Blue,” a confessional album brimming with emotional vulnerability, earnest introspection and alarming honesty. Benton crafted the album as he was going through the breakup in real time, so many songs he had already written took on new meaning—whether intentionally or through subconscious osmosis.

“At first, I would try to block out everything when I was writing songs,” said Benton. “I was rationalizing to myself that certain songs weren’t really about the relationship—it was almost like I didn’t want to know what they were really about. Ultimately—and I know this is kind of an overused statement—the process felt pretty cathartic. It felt really good to share the demos with my friends. The songs expressed things I maybe wasn’t quite capable of saying in a conversation.”

On the new album, Benton matches those deeply personal sentiments with a distinct sonic aesthetic. Drawing inspiration from mid-era Bruce Springsteen, in particular his towering breakup album “Tunnel of Love,” Benton leaned into the shimmering synth sounds that defined that 80s. Many of the songs on “Into the Burning Blue” are backed by a thumping drum machine and are rich with atmospherics, evoking a profound, spectral quality. You can almost see Benton walking solitarily down the street at dusk with a light mist enveloping him, playing these songs forlornly in his head.

“Gone and Done,” a mournful elegy marked by a wailing slide guitar spitting through keyboards, is filled with the typical questions one faces in the wake of a breakup—“Where should I go/Yeah, I don’t even know.” On the sparse, austere “Cry Cry Cry,” Benton’s voice cracks and splinters, as he tries to assure himself that he’ll be fine over the tinkling of an acoustic guitar. Album highlight “Ponies” takes a different tack, as Benton processes his emotions through the gleaming shine of bright synths and shimmering electronica. 

While there is no doubt that “Into the Burning Blue” chronicles a relationship in its dissolution, the album also tackles larger, more universal issues. Like any empathetic, caring citizen of the world, Benton struggles to come to terms with a society that can be so cruel and callous. A lifelong musician—LVL UP formed when he was in college—he’s also been forced to deal with the economic uncertainties that unfortunately come hand-in-hand with artists whose craft has been commodified and marginalized by capitalistic forces. 

Those larger inquiries of identity and acceptance are tackled on the album’s titanic opening track, “In a Dream,” a motorikking, propulsive road-trip anthem. A catalog of observations collected during his various excursions across the country, the song is a sociological treatise—an endearing, heartfelt examination of how a country so fractured and hurt can possibly survive. 

In many ways, Benton’s own life is a riposte to those daunting visions. After enduring the heartbreak of breakup, Benton is now happily in a new relationship. When not out touring (he’ll be opening for jagged folk-rock superstar MJ Lenderman during a UK jaunt this spring), Benton splits his time between his partner’s place in Dallas and his home in New Jersey. He’s hoping for more solidity in the future, but his ability to move onward and upward bodes well for anyone dealing with the doldrums of personal and political depression.

“I’m still trying to figure out a lot of things—like I need to get an apartment and all that life stuff,” said Benton. “It’s a struggle out there for sure, being a musician. But even with all that going on, I still get to work with so many awesome people, who care about helping me make my music. And I still have so much fucking fun at my shows. There is nothing quite like that experience.”

A new year coming, a new relationship and a new album in tow. The future may still be in the offing for Benton, but he’s providing ample evidence that the burning blues don’t last forever.

Show Details:
Trace Mountains with Lily Seabird and Poppy Patica
Where: Thee Parkside
When: 8 p.m., Saturday, December 7
Tickets: $15, available here.

Ted Leo Marries the Political and the Personal

Leo, beloved veteran punk rocker, will be playing the Fillmore on Friday

There is no manual for writing a protest song.

Some of the most vibrant and timeless compositions in memory are overt, specific calls to action, ranging from anti-war screeds (“Fortunate Son”), polemics against racism and police brutality (“Fight the Power”) and condemnations of oppressions (“Know Your Rights.”)

Conversely, bands like Radiohead and Titus Andronicus have wrapped their calls to resistance in cryptic allegories and mythmaking, weaving recurring themes within the framework of universal struggles that can be interpreted differently by different people at different times. Bob Dylan’s most famous protest song is so tangled in metaphor and tortured symbolism that it feels as urgently malleable now as it did nearly 60 years ago.

While Ted Leo has never claimed to be Bob Dylan or Chuck D, the Rhode Island punk rocker has crafted an enduring legacy as a songwriter by flitting between the personal and political in his 30-plus years as a musician. Always fighting the good fight, Leo has decried colonialism, sexism, racism, corporate greed and nearly every other vice of modern life while also offering glimpses into his own particular struggles. 

An inventive and empathetic wordsmith, Leo has a knack for seemingly telling two stories at once—a broader cautionary tale against societal ills and a deeply internalized treatise of turmoil.

That formula is found throughout “Shake the Sheets,” the outstanding fourth album released by Ted Leo and the Pharmacists. To celebrate the 20th anniversary of that record, Leo and his longtime backing band are playing the album in full at all their tour stops, which includes a performance this Friday at the Fillmore.

Throughout the album, there are clear, conspicuous calls to action—galvanizing anthems designed to shake people out of their collective apathy. But running parallel to that narrative is a separate account of Leo coming to account with a debilitating eating disorder. 

“Me and Mia,” the dynamic opening track that serves as a manifesto for the album, captures that duality perfectly. With lines like “We went on, as we were on a mission/Latest in a grand tradition,” the song initially seems like it’s the latest standard-bearer for calling out systemic abuse. But Leo said there is much more to that track.

“Me and Mia is one of the more coded songs I’ve ever written, because it really is all about having this eating disorder,” said Leo. “It’s very specifically coded, so it’s one of those, ‘if you know, you know,’ things. It’s an acknowledgement of what people are going through without scolding or shaming them.”

Throughout the 11 songs of “Shake the Sheets,” Leo returns time and again to those corresponding motifs—one personal and one universal. For every point of condemnation against corruption and cruelty, Leo manages to interject a phrase or sentence endemic to his own travails. Although a gifted raconteur who can create scenes and storylines that feel fully-formed and multidimensional, Leo has never quite been able to break himself off completely from the tableaus contained in his work.

“I’ve gotten better at divorcing myself from the content, but I’m not one of those songwriters who can tell a great tale that is completely beyond their experience,” said Leo. “I can write these vignettes that are about a time and place with a narrator that isn’t me, but I’m still in there, somewhere.

That approach is not necessarily unique, but Leo has a special gift of lyrical dexterity that elevates him above so many others. “Shake The Sheets” is brimming with songs that serve multiple purposes. For example, the title track ends with this wistful soliloquy:

'Cause on and on, the tides will surely come 
And sure enough, they'll leave again as one 
But you and I, we will or won't be here 
And sure enough, the angels take their share, 
but where, I'm not so sure I think it's fair

It could be describing two forlorn lovers, class strivers revolting against injustice, companions both battling the same internal demons, or a removed observation on the ungraspable concept of mortality.  

“It’s never a 100 percent conscious decision when I’m writing,” said Leo. “But I try to capture the human condition under these systemic conditions. It’s less about describing a problem and more talking about living through these problems. Hopefully, by being more broad, you allow for that extrapolation—that continued application.”

The complementary nature of Leo’s songs is probably what makes the everyman punker so relatable. Leo has been making celebrated music for his entire life through numerous different creative endeavors, but he’s always been grounded and approachable in a way that feels utterly unique to the industry. His songs resonate so powerfully because he feels like one of us—even when he’s pouring his heart out about an entanglement that is completely unique to his own experience.

Few music lifers have aged as gracefully as Leo, who has taken a new approach to his craft after a lifetime of rough living on the road. For this latest tour with the Pharmacists, Leo is breaking up the long monotony of traveling by scheduling only weekend jaunts—a quirk that allows him to spend more time at home with his four-year-old child. 

“I’m in my 50s now,” said Leo. “We are not young anymore. This is about taking care of ourselves.”

Heartening for a veteran musician touring behind an album that’s two decades old, Leo has said he’s witnessed a surprising amount of youthful attendees at his “Shake the Sheets” shows. 

“Earlier this year, we were playing a street fest in Columbia, South Carolina, and we really had no idea what to expect,” said Leo. “But when we started, there was this tremendous energy among the kids who were there—they were singing along with every word and crowdsurfing and everything. It was amazing to experience.”

That show serves as another reminder of the widespread appeal of Ted Leo. Whatever tale he’s relating or mission he’s espousing, there will be an enrapt audience, waiting to hear more.

Show Details:

Ted Leo and the Pharmacists
Where: The Fillmore
When: 8 p.m., Friday, November 15
Tickets: $40.25, available here.

Porches provide much-needed reprieve at Bimbo’s

Holy shit did I need this.

After experiencing what can only be generously called a torturous, ruinous, miserable shit-of-a-day watching our country elect a fascist asshole for president, it was safe to say I wasn’t exactly feeling in fighting form on Wednesday night. I felt listless, distraught and generally unmotivated—the couch looked like a good place to park myself for the next four years (if a hermetic cabin in the woods couldn’t be secured.)

Eventually, I decided to get my ass up, because I had tickets to see Porches at Bimbo’s 365 Club. I was thinking that a live music environment filled with like-minded positivity would do me some damn good.

Hooboy, was that the right call.

The creative brainchild of songwriter Aaron Maine, Porches is currently touring behind their stellar 2024 album, “Shirt.” That record—one of the year’s best—represents the latest step in the Porches' evolution, a movement which started as icy, minimalist synth pop but has steadily grown into blown-out rock music that almost borders on grunge.

That full-throated approach was on display at Bimbo’s on Wednesday. Porches—which tours as a tight four piece act—blasted through a series of cuts from “Shirt” to start the show, with all renderings delivered at max volume levels.

Starting with “Rag,” a downhill, dirty punk ditty that recalls “Bleach” era Nirvana, and moving through album highlights like “Bread Believer” and “Itch,” Maine and company offered unapologetically loud forms of relief for the audience, all of whom seemed desperate to scream their lungs out. 

After plowing through most of the songs on the new album, the band detoured for a compelling performance of “rangerover,” a standout track from the 2020 release, “Ricky Music.” Following that, the group closed their opening set with a stirring rendition of “Music,” the closing track on “Shirt” and a paean to the wondrously self-destructive idolatry of rock ‘n’ roll.

For the encore, the band launched into “Sally” at the behest of some fans in the crowd, turning the track into a raucous number that resulted in the first mosh pit of the night. It was the track’s tour debut, leaving Maine to surmise that he “wished we played that song for the first 20 fucking shows of this tour.”

The band then segued into their 2016 classic “Car,” before closing the night with an uproarious version of “Country,” the quiet, hushed ballad from 2018’s album, “The House” that was transformed into a glorious group singalong.

During the performance, Maine mostly shied away from stage banter, eschewing platitudes about healing and coming together in a time of need, which would have felt forced (and hopeless) anyway at this point. He did say that Bimbo’s was his “favorite place he’s ever played,” and randomly blurted out “sex” a few times into the microphone—ostensible non-sequiturs that still felt more cathartic than any meaningless political declarations.

It will be a long four years. Seeing live music will not solve the country’s myriad problems, but it will make the time pass quicker, if only for a night at a time. 

David Longstreth of Dirty Projectors to Play Two Shows in Intimate Point Reyes Venue

Dirty Projectors frontman performing classic albums, new material at the Dance Palace on November 7 & 8

The regular calendar for the Dance Palace in Point Reyes Station reads like your standard Marin County community fare. There will be some pilates classes, a few yoga lessons, instructional classes for senior citizens and a staging of “The Mitten – A Christmas Play for Little Ones and their Families,” put on by a group of elementary school students, which just sounds adorable.

And oh yeah, it will also host a couple of performances from one of the most acclaimed indie rock musicians of the past 25 years.

On November 7 and November 8, David Longstreth of Dirty Projectors fame will play a couple of intimate solo shows at the uber–cozy neighborhood venue. He’ll be joined by Alex Bleeker, bassist for beloved New Jersey slack rockers Real Estate. A North Bay resident, Bleeker (who will be performing his own solo songs these nights as well) approached Longstreth with the idea of playing at the Dance Palace.

“I love the area,” said Longstreth. “I try to spend as much time up there as I can. Alex just hit me up and said he was going to start booking shows at the Dance Palace, and that I was the first person he thought of. I didn’t really have to think much about it–I was like, ‘let’s do this.”

For the shows in Point Reyes, Longstreth will perform some of his newest material for an opening first set and then follow with solo performances of two legendary Dirty Projectors’ albums—“Swing Lo Magellan” (on November 7) and “Bitte Orca” (on November 8.)

These performances will come on the heels of an experimental run of recent shows billed as TBA/D-lo (To Be Announced/David Longstreth) a billing that feels right, since the line between Dirty Projectors and David Longstreth has always been blurry–he’s the only permanent member, and the project has oscillated between pure solo efforts and more traditional “band” outings.

With the ephemeral character of the Dirty Projectors made all the more unclear by the evolving trends of music, post-pandemic (when live performances and touring schedules were completely disrupted), Longstreth has leaned into that opacity. The TBA/D-LO shows were a pretty masterful way of acknowledging the futile nature of labels.

“The pandemic gave us an opportunity to rethink so many things,” said Longstreth. “For me, one is the idea that the live show is basically marketing for the album. There’s a huge creative opportunity in working things out in front of people, inviting the audience to become a part of it. There is something really special about playing songs that no one knows yet — the heightened attention, the sharing and receiving in real time.” 

“And there can be so much pleasure, for audience and performer alike, in embracing the dynamic differences between live show and recorded album–the painterly possibilities of recording; the elastic, improvisatory, unpredictable dimensions of performance. So, with these TBA/D-lo shows — Dance Palace included — I want to place primacy on the live experience–all of us coming together, exactly once, to create something in real life and outside of clean definitions, in that time and place.”

When and how Longstreth decides to release new tunes, they will certainly be revelatory (he said he’s experimenting with beat-driven, Brazilian-inspired and jazzier compositions, among other directions.) The music of Dirty Projectors has always been wildly ambitious and unique, ranging from concept albums about the Eagles’ Don Henley (yes, him), elaborate re-imaginings of classic punk releases, soaring indie rock statements and bucolic folk recordings. 

In recent years, he’s focused his efforts on “Song of the Earth,” an orchestral spectacle that premiered at the Los Angeles Philharmonic in 2023. The last Dirty Projectors release was a 2020 collection of 5 EPS, all essentially released simultaneously.

In fact, it had been years since Longstreth truly explored the songs from classic Dirty Projectors releases like “Swing Lo Magellan” and “Bitte Orca.” He was inspired to revisit those albums after a gig in Portugal, when he spontaneously began rehearsing “The Bride,” a deeper cut from “Bitte Orca.” Feeling enlivened by that bit of pre-show muscle memory, he performed the song live and was met with a rapturous response from the crowd.

“To me, the pleasure was in the rediscovery, and in performing it spontaneously, on short notice,” said Longsteth. “I was surprised and heartened that the Portuguese audience recognized the song, of course. But, honestly, the decision to revisit those records was more introspective and to do with my own process.”

Longstreth said he’s still determining how to recreate the intricate, interweaving elements of those albums as a solo artist. Both releases featured starring vocal contributions from Amber Coffman, Longstreth’s former girlfriend and one-time bandmate in Dirty Projectors. Transforming those many moving parts into a singular effort should be a formidable challenge for Longstreth, but one completely within his capabilities. After all, this is the artist who recreated Black Flag’s hardcore masterpiece “Damaged” into a beguiling art-rock manifesto.

“Sometimes artists have these very intentional moves to revisit an older album, and for better or worse, this is not that,” said Longstreth. “This is really just because I think it would be fun to see how it feels. Part of that is the curiosity that comes along with how exactly I’m going to play these songs.” 

The unpredictable nature of these shows will only add to the special feeling sure to accompany these small, communal gatherings. For a few nights, the Dance Palace will be that place of primacy and performance that Longstreth always seeks to create.  

Show Details:
David Longstreth with Alex Bleeker
Where: The Dance Palace
When: 8:15 p.m., Thursday, November 7 and Friday, November 8
Tickets: $54, Friday sold out, Thursday tickets available here.

Black Lips Celebrate 25 Years of Vital, Irreverent Garage Rock

Photo credit: Alexandra Cabral

Nearly 30 years ago, a teacher from an Atlanta area middle school had some harsh words for the parents of Jared Swilley—namely that their 13-year-old son should stop hanging out with his irascible and troublemaking pal, Cole Alexander.

Swilley—as per his natural inclination during those halcyon days of his youth—opted to ignore the warnings. It was a very fortunate decision for everyone who’s a fan of the Black Lips, the beloved Atlanta garage rock band who will play at the Rickshaw Stop on Sunday as part of the annual Psyched Fest put on by the local station Psyched! Radio.

“At the time, I think Cole had just recently set his head on fire so he would have a funny haircut,” recalled Swilley. “People were concerned about that. But we both had pretty acute cases of oppositional defiance disorders in those days, so my immediate thought was, ‘well, I’m going to hang out with this guy every day now.’”

For a band whose rise to fame was fueled by a combustible combination of outrageous live performances and a well-documented appreciation for the more hedonistic offerings of the rock n roll world, the Black Lips are improbably enjoying their 25th year of existence. And at the core of the operation are Alexander and Swilley, two childhood comrades making music that still feels as vital, inventive and deliciously unpredictable as the tunes they first unleashed in the early Aughts.

“When we first started this thing, everyone was always asking us—‘well, what’s your backup plan,’” said Swilley. “And while we never really expected our band to be huge or anything, we didn’t have that backup plan, because we all enjoyed playing music so much. It made it easier for us to survive those early years, because we would absolutely be fine playing basements and sleeping in a van. We’re not doing that same thing anymore, but we still have that love for what we do. It’s all we know.”

One major reason for the band’s longevity and relevancy is the open-door policy they embrace for songwriting. While crafting plenty of legendary tunes over the years, Alexander and Swilley have always encouraged their fellow bandmates to bring their own ideas for Black Lips albums. That’s evident in the group’s most recent release, “Apocalypse Love.” 

Another amalgamation of neo-psychedelia, folk, punk rock and swampy Americana, the album features a number of memorable contributions from guitarist Jeff Clarke, who joined the band in 2018. Songs penned by Clarke include the dusty cowboy ballad “Stolen Valor,” the eerie no-wave number “Whips of Holly” and the retro-rap (yep, that’s right), disco send-up, “Sharing My Cream.”

“First off, I don’t know if Cole and I are strong enough writers to do this whole thing—we definitely couldn’t write 25 years of songs by ourselves,” said Swilley “But we always looked at this as an art collective—like everyone is an equal member. And we’ve always made it that, no matter what anyone does or doesn’t contribute, we all get the same publishing. You avoid so much resentment and band drama when everyone gets paid exactly the same.”

While the band has always cohered around the concept of southern-fried garage rock, they’ve never fit neatly into a particular genre scene (their roots track back to a tight knit group of Atlanta bands, whose membership range in style and sound from the heavy metal of Mastodon to the avant garde noise rock of Deerhunter.) 

Their sonics have grown all the more expansive in the past decade with the addition of saxophonist Zumi Rosow, whose inputs bring a funkier, skronkier edge to the band. Along with drummer Oakley Munson, who joined in 2017, the band has kept the same personnel for the past six years, a remarkable period of consistency for an outfit of their experience (many of their contemporaries trot out a different lineup for each new tour or album.) 

And despite hitting the quarter-century mark, the Black Lips have no intentions of slowing down. An outfit famed for touring in the most outlandish of locales, Swilley said the band has its sights set on a jaunt through the Central Asian countries of Mongolia, Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan and Tajikistan. He also said the band is also working on a new album, which they hope to put out next spring. He noted that this latest effort was almost a return to form from their earlier days.

“For the first time in a long time, this album is mostly just me and Cole,” said Swilley. “We haven’t had one like this since, probably [2011’s] ‘Arabia Mountain.’ We have a lot of rock stuff and Cole has some super weird stuff—it’s been a great process so far.”

With their expanded footprint on the new album, the timing is ideal for a renewed appreciation of Alexander and Swilley’s songwriting prowess. Because the band has been synonymous for so long with outrageous stage antics and general tomfoolery, it can be lost that these lifelong friends are also incredible musicians and creative artists. Over the years, their output of enduring, strangely heartfelt, uproarious and memorable indie rock songs stands completely favorably with any of the most celebrated bands of the past generation. 

Their generosity and willingness to share the creative helm, notwithstanding, Cole and Swilley will always be the beating hearts of this creative concoction called the Black Lips. Now in their early 40s (but seemingly ageless—for real, they look barely a day older from when they started), they’ve come a long way from their early days grappling with exasperated teachers and unrewarding jobs.

“I remember after recording [2005’s] ‘Let it Bloom,’ we went on tour with the Dirtbombs,” said Swilley. “It was the first time I came home with money, and my boss at the diner I worked at asked me if I needed any more shifts, and I realized that I didn’t need to work there—that I could actually do this music thing.”

From working thankless shifts at diners to touring the most distant part of the globe—the Black Lips story continues. Here’s to 25 more years.

Show Details:
Black Lips with Descartes a Kant and Pancho and The Wizards
Where: Rickshaw Stop
When: 8 p.m., Sunday, November 3
Tickets: $25/$30, available for purchase here.

Broken Dreams Club Interview: Christopher Owens

Photo Credit: Sandy Kim

As the lead singer and founding member of Girls, Christopher Owens left a lasting, indelible impact on San Francisco, the place he called home for more than 15 years. 

Following the dissolution of Girls, the untimely death of bandmate Chet “JR” White, and a series of other personal tragedies, Owens relocated from San Francisco to New York. Today, Owens releases his first solo album in nine years, the gorgeously emotive “I Wanna Run Barefoot Through Your Hair.”  A stunning achievement, the new collection of songs draw upon all the candor and self-reflection that made Girls so great, while also charting an intriguing new path forward for Owens.

Broken Dreams Club spoke with Owens–whose EP with Girls provides the name for this website–about leaving San Francisco, overcoming countless setbacks, finding new love and being continually inspired by the joy of making music.

“I Wanna Run Barefoot Through Your Hair,” your first solo album in nine years, and your first music of any kind in seven years, comes out today. What’s going through your mind right now?

It's been very exciting. I've been waiting for so long to be able to release this music. Seeing the positive reactions so far has been really nice. I'm just glad it's finally here. 

I’m so excited to talk about that new album, but first I want to go over all the huge life changes that have happened since we last talked. First and foremost, you moved from San Francisco to New York City. As much as I would have liked you to stay here, it seemed like the move really rejuvenated you. What’s it been like living in NYC?

I've been to New York a lot over the years, but I've never lived here. It’s a nice new experience. I'm definitely still kind of isolated from my friend group or whatever, but if you're going to do that, I guess New York's a good place, because there's so much to do and check out. It's never really boring. I don't know if I'll stay forever, but it's a good experience to try out. I’m experiencing actual seasons, which is a whole different thing for me. Time passes in a different way, which makes you feel differently about life.

You’ve talked a lot about how the San Francisco that you knew and loved had changed so much over the years. Was it still hard to say goodbye, even after all the difficulties you experienced in the last few years here?

It will always be sad to me that I even had to leave. I wish I didn't have to, but I knew it was the best thing for me to do at that point. I probably spent several years there just trying to make it happen, when I probably should have made a move. I gave it a good shot. I'll probably always miss it. It was the longest place I've ever lived in my life. 

One of your biggest life developments is that you’re now happily married. From what I understand it was quite the whirlwind romance. You all met at one of your shows in LA, right?

Yeah, it was a pretty big surprise the way it went down. It was definitely not something I was thinking was going to happen, but it felt right, and I didn't see any reason why I shouldn't do it. I kind of thought to myself, ‘maybe this is how it is for everybody.’ I always thought there'd be something more planned out, but it kind of makes sense that it didn't work out that way for me. But it’s been really cool. She's from LA, so we go back there a lot, which has been interesting. I never really had a connection to LA before. But now that I do, I realize that a lot of my friends are there, and it’s one of the last places where it seems like everybody still goes out together. It feels like the old days in San Francisco. 

You’ve experienced so much hardship in the past several years—homelessness, a very serious motorcycle accident, the dissolution of your relationship and the death of your closest friend. Not to go all inspirational movie on you, but what allowed you to persevere through that?

I honestly don’t know. When I think about it, all together in hindsight, it's obviously been a lot. And I do have moments where I don't know how I really even got through that. If somebody would have told me, it’s gonna take seven years for you to be able to put out another record. I would have been like, ‘what?’ I would not have known how to accept that. But all you can really do is put one foot in front of the other and keep going. There were definitely moments where I had to sort of ask myself if I was going to try to do something else, but, fortunately I never really got to that point. I always wanted to be playing music and have friends in my life and just keep living how I want to live. I never wanted to be a scenester or anything, but it’s really as simple as that. And, when you do go through that much, you can maybe question how you’re living your life or spending your time. I think it’s maybe a necessary thing for people to experience once in a while—to be tested like that. Hopefully, it's not super extreme, like what I went through, but I think you need to be pushed, so you ask yourself, ‘is this what I really want?’ And then you can take stock of everything, and for me, it was reassuring to see what was important to me. All that I went through, makes everything feel so meaningful now.

Today actually marks the four-year anniversary of JR’s death. How often is he in your thoughts? What are your fondest memories of him? 

He’s been in my mind every day since he passed. Most of my memories are of all the things that we managed to do together. Just the way we sort of stumbled through all these experiences and had to rely on each other so much to get through it all. When big decisions would come up, we were really all we had. When it came to signing big contracts or making huge decisions or touring for the first time—we never thought we'd be actually able to do that stuff. He was a great person to experience all that with. Maybe there were moments where touring was harder for him and maybe sometimes it would be harder for me to let go of ideas on how I wanted songs to be done, but at the end of the day, we never really had any disagreements that lasted longer than a day. 

He was a lot funnier than people realized because he kind of came across as serious. People always thought he was older than me, but in many ways, he was more of a kind than I was—he just had that hilarious sense of humor. He loved cooking. He loved to make food on the road. His family was fun to be around. He was a special person.

When you’re making music now, do you often think of him? How he might approach or contribute to the songs you’re creating?

Yeah—that’s always gonna happen. All my experiences of doing music for those first four years involved him. So, I’ll always be wondering what he would do differently, or if he would like my choices or whatever.

Speaking of these new songs. They’re amazing. When we talked, you mentioned that you had a ton of unreleased material from your time with Curls. Were these songs from those sessions? Or were these all written and recorded more recently?

Yeah–most of these songs are from those sessions. I redid some things, but that's mainly what it was. I took a few songs out and switched them with other things. And then there was a lot of stuff we just didn't record, but most of the songs from this album are from that time period.

The first single you released, “Think About Heaven,” this really gorgeous, breezy, airy song. Of course, it seems like every time you write anything remotely related to religion, people bring up your background growing up in Children of God. You’ve been very candid about your experiences there, and you said that your connection with religion continues to evolve. What’s your current relationship like?

As far as organized religion, I still don't really have any relationship with it. You know, I'm aware of it. I find it interesting, as a human phenomenon, just because I know so much about it. But it really isn't anything I'm into. For me religion has always been more interesting at a personal level. My relationship with the Bible was unplanned for the most part—it was kind of unchosen from the beginning. But recently, I can't help but think about it and read it and it’s probably always going to be a big part of my life. I don’t think the point of the whole thing was to be an organized religion, anyway. Jesus was actually about disrupting that. He was telling people that that their relationship to God was inside of themselves and not inside of some temple. So that's really more the way that I view it. I think there's a reason that it has persisted. No matter how logical and no matter how much our understanding of the world grows, there is always will be that personal relationship.

Shifting gears a little bit--“This is My Guitar” is another great song. I remember when we were speaking a few years ago, and you told me that busking outside in San Francisco—in the wind and the cold—helped make you a much better guitar player. This song reminds me of that—when everything else goes away, you’ll always have your music. How important has music been as this grounding force for you?

It's very important. At a time when there was no real reason to hang on to this and it was probably more logical for me to focus on something else, music became even more important to me. When I had to choose what to do with myself during the pandemic–when I was living in my car and when I really didn't have anyone familiar around me anymore, my reaction was just to play more music and turn to it more. I didn't think about it as a choice—it was this subconscious thing and I only realized afterwards that that's what I was doing. I was really glad, ultimately, because it was reassuring to know that I was doing something valuable with myself. It’s also an amazing feeling when you can actually get better at something. When you're 40 years old and having this same rewarding experience you felt as a teenager of getting better at the guitar. And I've been getting way more into playing keyboards lately and exploring new instruments. I'm just so grateful that I have something like this in my life that I can do.

“No Good” feels like it could absolutely be a Girls outtake, sonically. Whereas “I Think About Heaven” has this upbeat, positive outlook on life, “No Good” takes the opposite tack. What’s the backstory with that song? Is it about anything specific?

It was the first song that I wrote after the break up of my last relationship. It took a while to actually write something like that. I really was only writing instrumental guitar music for a long time. I think it was all too much to address for a while. It took a year until I finally wrote that song and a few other ones. That was kind of me waving the white flag on that relationship. It was about reflecting on the crazy experience that was really jolting. It wasn’t just a disappointing breakup—it was one of those things that really fucked my life up. Something like that shakes your whole idea of yourself and makes you question everything. It definitely made me feel pretty lousy. It’s funny because people say they’ve never heard me write like that. Even though it might sound like a Girls song, what I’m saying on that song is very different.

So, “Album” recently celebrated 15 years since its release. What does that anniversary mean to you? What are your memories of making that record? 

It's always shocking when one of those anniversaries happens. Time seems to pass in a funny way. That record was such a crazy experience. We spent, maybe two years, making it, which is the only record I've ever spent that much time working on. In the beginning, it was just JR and I recording in the bedroom, and the goal was just to get another song done to put on our Myspace page. And then to watch that reaction over those first six months– to see how much people responded to those songs was pretty amazing. It wasn’t until late 2008, after a year of working on those songs and playing those first shows, that we finally started talking to labels about actually making a record. When we knew there was actually going to be an album made, we spent the next year recording the rest of the songs and mixing them up in Seattle at a studio there. It was a huge learning experience. I’d never done any kind of band recording or singing. I played guitar in Holy Shit for a few years, but that was a totally different experience. That first record is sort of the birth of me finding out what I was going to do with myself.

I hope that you appreciate how much you mean to music fans in San Francisco. I think there is a generation of folks like me, whose experience living in the city is so closely tied with the music of Girls. Are you able to reflect on that at all?

I think I’m aware of that, and it means so much to me. To be able to have any sort of impact, especially in a city like San Francisco, is just an amazing feeling. It’s not like doing it in Dallas—San Francisco is this special, sophisticated city and people have taste there. When I left Amarillo, Texas, San Francisco was to me, the most European and beautiful city, and my number one place to go to in America. Coming there as a young adult and being able to have an experience like that and to maybe leave that kind of impression is priceless for me. It gives me a little bit of pride in myself—hopefully not too much—but it makes me feel good. And I couldn't think of anywhere else I would have liked to have made that impression. 

Last question: do you have plans to come back to San Francisco on tour?

Yeah—the first round of shows isn't really a tour, per se, but I’ll definitely be in San Francisco as part of that.[Note, after this interview, Owens announced a set of shows that includes a performance at The Chapel on December 16.]  I’m definitely coming there first, and then I'm sure I’ll be there again when we have an actual tour. I can’t wait to play in San Francisco, actually.

“I Wanna Run Barefoot Through Your Hair” is out now on True Panther Records. Buy the album here.

Friko Return to Bay Area Supporting one of 2024’s Best Albums

Photo Credit: Pooneh Ghana
Chicago outfit touring behind landmark debut album, “Where We’ve Been, Where We Go From Here".

When you’re listening to the music of Friko, Niko Kapetan wants to make sure you’re really listening.

On the Chicago indie rock band’s glorious debut album, this year’s “Where We've Been, Where We Go from Here,” it’s impossible to get comfortable. Austere piano ballads are followed by breakneck post-punk thrashers. Kitchen-sink indie rock anthems sit side-by-side with humble guitar numbers and multi-suite baroque chamber pop epics give way to crashing, blown-out shoegaze pieces.

That discordant, invigorating environment is all by design, according to Kapetan, the band’s guitarist, vocalist and co-founding member alongside drummer Bailey Minzenberger.

“The last thing I ever want to make is music that could just play in the background,” said Kapetan. “When I show people our music and that’s their reaction, I want to literally die. Maybe we’ll make a movie soundtrack of some ambient stuff someday, but for now, we want to go against that feeling. We hope you’re paying attention when you listen to our album.”

On Thursday and Friday, Friko will surely be grabbing the attention of listeners when they perform at The Fillmore and Fox Theater in Oakland, respectively. They’ll be opening those shows for Australian rockers Royel Otis.

The performances are the latest part of a non-stop touring schedule for Friko, which has earned rave reviews for “Where We’ve Been, Where We Go From Here.” A deeply ambitious album that’s rare by today’s standards, the record maps out a band unafraid to explore different genres, moods, tones and approaches. The result is one of the best albums of the year, if not the best.

It's a truly dizzying display of the band’s talents—one that shows an endlessly inventive approach to sonic structures while tracing a lyrical narrative that grapples with regret, memory and the ephemeral nature of passing time. Each song feels singular, yet part of a bold, cohesive mission statement.

“Crimson to Chrome” is a spiky, cascading punk rock testimonial, full of starts and stops and punctuated by Kapetan’s declaration that “We're either too old, too bold or stupid to move/I guess we’re caught on the wrong side of the shoe again.” “Crashing Through” matches that song’s dynamism, with its army of guitars and moments of explosive energy, powered in large part by Minzenberger’s insistent percussion work. 

“Chemical” quickly transforms from a gospel rendition of “Ave Maria” into a tortured, maniacal race against the clock—a frantic dash powered by spiky guitars and Kapetan’s repeated screaming of “Chemical! Chemical!” “Get Numb To It” captures Kapetan at his most desperate, again returning to the thematic motif of time’s endless march, punctuated by the desultory startlement that “It doesn't get better/It just gets twice as bad because you let it.” Kapetan manages to transform that sentiment, however, by viewing isolation and depression as emotions that can ultimately be bonding, exemplified by him evoking the album title: “Where we've been, where we go from here/Take your weight and throw your arms around me.”

“This album was definitely written from a dark place,” said Kapetan. “But if there was a throughline that we wanted to maintain in the album, it was about trying to find joy in those dark places.”

It’s a highly attuned album, emotionally. While Kapetan screams and thrashes on the record’s loud set pieces, he’s equally ruminative and reflective on the release’s most subdued numbers. “For Ella” is a gorgeous lament, just Kapetan and a piano, and his painful retellings of a love lost. “Until I’m With You Again” is another stark composition—a broken heart’s autobiographical tale, and “Cardinal” closes out the album on the most introspective note possible, with Kapetan’s cooing falsetto matched by melancholy string sections. 

The highpoint of the album comes at the very beginning, with the opening track “Where We’ve Been.” Containing an array of distinct movements within a single track, the song serves as a manifesto for the rest of the record—a slow building, churning document that foresees the emotional ebbs and flows of what’s to come while ending in a glorious gang vocal sing along. The song has already reached legendary status—Paste Magazine listed it as the top track of 2024 in its mid-year review.

“That song had this kind of magical feeling from the beginning,” said Kapetan. “It was one of those tracks where everything basically came together in 45 minutes. You have certain songs where you labor over them for hours and hours and nothing comes up, and then you have some where it just feels supernatural. We recorded it once and it was that take on the record. It was just this amazing, special feeling.”

“Where We’ve Been, Where We Go From Here,” is almost perfectly balanced between soft and loud, defiant and accepting, angry and peaceful. As such, it requires that active listening that Kapetan said is a major emphasis of the band.

Additionally, it evokes all the great, ridiculously grand indie rock albums of the early Aughts—everything from Bright Eyes’ “Lifted, Or The Story is In the Soil, Keep Your Ear to the Ground” to …And You Will Know Us By The Trail of Dead’s “Source Tags and Codes.” With its heart-on-sleeve sentiment, however, its most clear predecessor is Arcade Fire’s landmark 2004 record, “Funeral.”

“We really wanted to show our aspirations with this album—for it to almost be overwhelming,” said Kapetan. “Growing up, indie rock was just so exciting for us, and we wanted to replicate that feeling. But we also love songwriters and playing just quiet acoustic guitar songs. For this first record, we wanted to dive into every realm of possibility, to make it open enough where we could do anything on the next album, and it wouldn’t be a total surprise.”

Kapetan said the band is already plotting out new material for its sophomore album. At this point, the only thing that would be surprising about that effort is if it’s not another generous, daring and vibrant work of art. 

Show Details:
Friko with Royel Otis
Where: The Fillmore and the Fox Theater
When: 8 p.m., Thursday, October 17 at the Fillmore and 8 p.m., Friday, October 18 at the Fox.
Tickets: $50.60 at the Fox Theater, available here. $42.75 at the Fillmore, available here.

Stars Performing Classic Album at the Chapel on Sunday

Photo Credit: Stars
Canadian indie rockers celebrating 20th anniversary of “Set Yourself on Fire.”

“When there’s nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire.”

That spoken-word opening salvo is the first thing listeners hear on “Set Yourself On Fire,” the seminal 2004 album from Canadian indie rock outfit Stars.

Delivered with a stern, Mid-Atlantic accent, the declaration feels lifted from a gritty noir film starring Humphrey Bogart or a 1940s radio broadcast warning of the perils of fascism. Instead, the unlikely orator of that line—which serves as a manifesto for the entire album—is actually the father of Stars frontman Torquil Campbell.

“Yeah, that’s my dad,” said Campbell. “I wanted to start the record with a quote, and I had been kind of jotting that line down on my arm for a little while because I was too scared to get a tattoo. We were in the mastering suite, basically finishing up the album and I got my dad on the phone, and he recorded that real quick. He always liked to complain that he never earned a penny in royalties from that contribution.”

On October 20 at the Chapel, the band will play their beloved third album in full, part of an ongoing tour celebrating the 20th anniversary of the release. The guest vocal contribution of Campbell’s father—which kickstarted the opening track, “Your Ex-Lover Is Dead” has played a strangely enduring role in the legacy of the album. 

That statement is about defiant self-belief and irreverent radicalism, helping set the tone for “Set Yourself on Fire” and perfectly epitomizing the ethos of the band. Much like today, the world of 2004 was a chaotic, war-torn time, with the Iraqi and Afghanistan conflicts looming large and the machismo of George W. Bush America running rampant. Stars sought to counter those nihilistic undercurrents with messages of empathy and understanding. 

“We were very convinced at the time that being soft and being loving was the ultimate punk act—and we still feel that way,” said Campbell. “That’s how we were raised—if you treat people with respect and dignity and love, that’s going to permeate out into the world. And if you act selfish and you don’t show love and don’t express vulnerability, the world will become a harder, nastier place. And then you get assholes like Donald Trump.”

So much of that communal sentiment derived from the explosion of artistic and creative endeavors happening in the band’s hometown of Toronto. At the time, that city was the epicenter of the indie rock world, with bands and artists like Broken Social Scene, Metric and Feist helping to define the expansive, exploratory sound of the early aughts. 

“It’s hard to describe that feeling in your 20s, when seemingly everyone you know just falls in love with each other,” said Campbell. “We all lived within, like six blocks of each other, and we were all just very obsessed with each other as people. We couldn’t stop hanging out with each other and going to each other’s shows and that energy was just a vortex you got caught up in.”

Whether it was the osmosis effect of the Toronto scene or an inspired burst of songwriting, the resulting effect was an astonishing catalog of songs collected on “Set Yourself on Fire.” Few albums capture the wonderment and awe offered by indie rock—a dynamic that perhaps reached its peak in 2004, when bands within the genre produced classic albums on a seemingly weekly basis. 

Every song on “Set Yourself on Fire” is a certifiable classic. “Your Ex-Lover is Dead” sets the tone from the onset with its heart-on-sleeve lyrics and lilting melodies. The title track is a jittering, propulsive pop classic, “Ageless Beauty” is a stunning shoegaze number and “Reunion” is a janglepop masterpiece. “First Five Times,” is a boozy, synthpop creation and “One More Night (Your Ex-Lover Remains Dead)” is a sweeping, orchestral piece characterized by the time honored soft-loud-soft dynamic.

Things take a more serious turn on the second half of the album, with Campbell delivering a scathing indictment of Bush-era foreign adventurism on “He Lied About Death,” and singer Amy Millan cooing a hopeful riposte to endless warmongering on “Celebration Guns.” The album closes with the gorgeous ballad “Calendar Girl”—a final return to more intimate settings.

For Campbell, mixing the personal (the intricacies of romantic relationships) with the universal (a world beset by war) made complete sense. 

“I just think, that’s fucking life,” said Campbell. “All the stuff, post-9/11 was fundamentally disruptive to our lives. The personal and political were completely intertwined. And nothing really has changed—in fact it’s becoming more pronounced. You go on Instagram, and you see someone talking about their new air fryer they just bought and the next post you see is about stopping the genocide. The difference in the personal and public appearances of people in this world have been erased.”

By melding those seemingly disparate concepts, Stars forecast the future in ways that feel eerily prescient. And despite having that wildly ambitious conceit, the album feels shockingly cohesive. Campbell and Millan trade off vocals like lovers having a conversation and the audacious sonic template (flitting between loud, discordant tracks and symphonic, baroque offerings) is deftly wielded by the stately musicianship of the band, anchored in large parts by virtuosic multi-instrumentalist Evan Cranley.

The result is a document of the times (one that received universal acclaim) that still feels absolutely vital 20 years later. Campbell said there was some initial hesitancy about embarking on a tour that could be seen as a nostalgia trip, but those misgivings were quickly dissipated after the first few shows.

“I can honestly say that these shows have been among the most beautiful experiences of my life,” said Campbell. “This record came out 20 years ago. That is an incredibly long period of time for us to hold on to our audience. It means everything to me that we’re still doing this.”

The band’s show at the Chapel sold out within a few days of tickets being offered and numerous other outings have been packed affairs on the tour. Campbell said the outpouring of support has encouraged them to extend these run of 20th anniversary shows.

“We want to keep this thing going,” said Campbell. “We plan on giving everything we got, for two hours every night. We want to give the people what they want—to make them cry and dance and sing and then send them home happy.”

Show Details:
Stars with Kevin Drew
Where: The Chapel
When: 8 p.m., Sunday October 20 
Tickets: Sold Out