Music to Your Ears
Seven years and 99 performances ago, the Bosque House Concerts were almost another New Mexican What If—a fantastic idea that, somewhere along the way, disappears into the lazy obscurity of mañana. But praise la Virgen de Guadalupe! After this week's Sunday, Aug.12, show, the Bosque House Concerts will have collected a nice round number's worth of happy memories. The 100th Bosque House Concert will also be its last.
Flyer on the Wall
Live from Antares
Kind of St. Vincent
Armloads of brainpower make for strong album
St. Vincent is not Annie Clark's alter-ego. "It's more like an alter ... I don't know. Just an alter," says the ambiguous multi-instrumentalist and self-proclaimed nerd.
Danbert Nobacon is one of those crazy genius musicians. Nobacon's folksy rock is part meticulously calculated political poetry, part ad hoc ramblings of a man holding on to reality's edge with the strum of his guitar. Just in case there is any doubt of his mental dispostion, he repeatedly outs the voices in his head in "The Last Drop in the Glass" and again in "Information Storm," beating the point to a pulp. His earthy, impassioned voice casts a charming line, baiting and hooking willing ears to his message. Whether or not the message is understood isn't the point—just that it's heard. [AD]
A Man and His Portable Amp
Local troubadour explores his city through sound
The clincher is a 9-volt amp peeking from his back pocket. You've seen this man before. Maybe he was shuffling through Downtown, maybe up near Nob Hill or down in Old Town, this guy who ambles and noodles on an electric guitar. This dude who skips muffled, dirty sounding chords down sidewalks, off storefront windows, into alcoves like stones across water.
Santa Fe Musik Fest
Rising tents and stages liven up view of the Downs
Santa Feans watched the eight-foot letters, made of painted rocks laid on grass, slowly fade over time. "The Downs at Santa Fe" it said. The letters fell to disrepair as the venue fell to disuse.
The Guild Cinema Fundraiser • Sleepy Hero • variety • Searching for Summer • DJ Lunchbox
The Guild Cinema, our burg’s art house movie theater, is a local treasure—remnant of an age when Joey Abbin's grandma took tickets on summer days and Ant Farmers members and future Fred’s Bread and Weekly Alibi staffers ran the projectors and doled out endless buckets of tasty popcorn. The place is still rocking fine film experiences nearly 40 years later, but the dudes at the controls need our help. Technology has advanced so quickly over the past decade as to make hardware and software for public film presentation prohibitively expensive. But the crew is on top of it, for The Guild Fundraiser to make all our cinematic dreams eligible for local screening. They host a benefit concert featuring the best of our experimental music scene at Launchpad on Thursday, June 20 starting at 9pm. That bill boasts two new bands, Searching for Summer and Sleepy Hero, that are made up of members of Death Convention Singers, Mammal Eggs, Chicharra, Lady Uranium and Bigawatt. This 21-and-over celebration of celluloid heroes can be had for just $8.
Russian Girlfriends • rock, punk • Baphomet Beach Party
Russian Girlfriends hosts a Baphomet Beach Party to celebrate the release of their new record, In the Parlance of Our Times, at 8pm on Friday, June 21 at Launchpad—that sounds fun and we can always appreciate the jollification of Satanic urges. But the real reason for the season is the support of a local band with a superior rock record that has emerged from the ether to conquer summertime listening habits here, there and potentially everywhere. With for-realz everyman angst buoyed by propulsive playing, catchy crunchiness and all the humility of a team of draft horses dredging a 150-ton trawler up from the depths, The Day may be one of the best records to come out of this little old military outpost in the desert that we call home. Russian Girlfriends has been burning through black plastic punk power for nigh on five years but this one could be the key to the next level. Find out for yourself and sell your soul to the dark one at the same time for $8 in advance and $10 at the door plus an ID that attests you have passed the threshold of 21; it will be blissful, bright and then painless, we're sure.