Rakim

Harlow’s, Sacramento • Sunday, July 20, 2014

Rakim (aka William Griffin, Jr.; aka the “God MC”) is considered one of the greatest and most influential lyricists and rappers of all time. He has been in the game for more than 25 years, making his lyrical debut with the single “Eric B. Is President” (a tribute to his DJ, Eric B.). Together, Eric B. and Rakim made four albums and created such classics as “I Ain’t No joke” and “Paid in Full,” and Rakim displayed just how transformational and talented he was as a hip-hop artist. Throughout their discography, Rakim proved himself to be a true lyricist, focusing on his love of words and respect for the art of writing. As he says in his song, “My Melody”: “I am the man they call the microphonist/With wisdom, which means wise words being spoken…” Rakim changed the game of rap, offering something to the hip-hop community that had never been seen before: an MC whose lyrical precision was as important as the dope beat that accompanied it.

It is interesting to think what the hip-hop community would have been like without the entrance of Rakim. His respect for the art form of hip-hop paved the way for true lyricists and conscious rappers. Without him there wouldn’t be Common, Nas or Mos Def. Rakim is and always will be one of the most respected veterans of the hip-hop community and his debut performance in Sacramento on Sunday night at Harlow’s proved just that.

As I walked in, I was immediately reminded that the lovers of true hip-hop are alive and well in the city of Sacramento. The DJ was spinning the classics of The Notorious B.I.G. and my personal favorites, A Tribe Called Quest. People were drinking and battle dancing as we waited patiently for history to be made with Rakim’s very first performance in our little city.

The show started at around 11:30 p.m.; Rakim was wearing a blue-checkered shirt with gold chains and walked out with his daughter, Destiny (which I thought was a nice, personal touch). The crowd immediately responded with overwhelming excitement, applause and the prompt emergence of smart phones (to snap pictures and record history) as Rakim greeted Harlow’s and delved into his first song.

He played his classics “Paid In Full,” “My Melody” and “Don’t Sweat the Technique” and proved why he was (and is) dubbed a lyrical king. It was truly amazing to see that after 28 years in the game, Rakim still has fully devoted and awesome fans that are willing to venture out late on a Sunday night to witness and pay homage to one of the greatest MCs alive, showing that raw talent will always outlive temporary popularity.

It was a wonderful night to be a hip-hop fan on Sunday. We were all there to have an amazing time and bask in our love of the good and true old-fashioned form of hip-hop. The performance was like a coming together of souls, all there for one purpose: to remember why we fell in love with hip-hop and to remember why we always be in love.

Music, good music, is that one constant thing in life that will never change. It will always be there to center you when life is a mess; it is that thing that will never leave. For many, hip-hop is a genre and a culture that has changed lives; hip-hop is life. And this proved so true on Sunday. It was nice to be out among my fellow hip-hop lovers, taking in the ambiance and the experience of being in the presence of the God MC, Rakim. He put on a great show, taking us all down memory lane, bringing us back to the time when hip-hop was first birthed, and showing us why he is considered a microphone king. Music is forever; hip-hop is forever. *Mic drop*

You could say that local brother/sister alternative/pop duo Connor and Karlee are doing what they’re meant to do. They’ve been exposed to music their whole lives, learning to play when they were old enough to sit at the piano or their dad’s drum set. Their father worked in the radio business, which gained Connor and Karlee all kinds of access to big-time entertainers over the years, both backstage and in the front row. “Each and every encounter has left its mark on who we are as musicians/songwriters… and the kind of artists we hope to someday become,” they wrote in their bio. When Connor was 11, he played drums with Shania Twain at ARCO Arena in front of 17,000 screaming fans. In 2012, Karlee tried out for the show The X Factor in San Francisco and out of 8,500 contestants she made it to round two with just 300 other performers. These kids are definitely on the right path and they are releasing their debut album on Friday, Aug. 1, 2014, when they will be performing at Harlow’s alongside fellow Sacramento-native songwriter Julianna Zachariou (who moved away to Nashville for college, but is back in town for the summer, so this is a rare local show!). It’s an early show, doors open at 6:30 p.m., and it is all ages with an $8 cover. Trust us when we say that Connor & Karlee are artists to watch. Guaranteed within a year or two they’ll be blowing up and scoring all kinds of incredible gigs and getting their music placed in movies and TV and all that stuff that comes with the natural talent that these two possess. Get on board the Connor and Karlee train now, Sacramento! Visit Connorandkarleemusic.com for more information.

Thom Stockton survived age 27, and has the album to prove it

There is no way to pinpoint who Thom Stockton is. He completely massacres any stereotype or physical judgments that anyone may push on him. He’s got the push-broom stache of a ‘70s porn star, but a rambling lyrical style that makes the likes of Obie Trice swoon.

Born and raised as a third-generation Stocktonian, Thom has an immense pride for his hometown of infamy. So much so, that the city has earned its place as half of his rap moniker. A few years ago, Thom’s first song was “My name is Stockton,” where he rapped about the city. Eventually, he felt like the song perfectly embodied who he is. Naturally, the self-revelation came: “I am Thomas, Thomas Stockton.”

Most people, including myself, know very little about the city of Stockton other than its crime rates and financial devastation. Stockton crime rates are some of the highest in the country, ranking fifth on Forbes Most Dangerous Cities list in 2013. Despite these ugly details overshadowing Stockton, it’s important to remember that there are still people who were born and raised there, who absolutely adore it and fight to show others that there is more to it than the bullshit. Thom Stockton is one of these people.

“I consider myself constantly defending Stockton, even when I really shouldn’t have to… What I love about Stockton most is that people don’t expect much from us,” Thom says. “If they really knew, they’d be baffled and embarrassed that they were so naïve when it comes to judging what they don’t really know.

“A decade ago, we were an all-American city,” he continues. “Somehow along the way, some things went sour.”

I have to note that Thom gave me flashbacks to a few years ago when I was interviewing the musician Matisyahu, who repeatedly felt the need to sarcastically slam Sacramento into the ground (“Cool, you guys have a river? I have a river in my backyard in Oregon.”) despite never really spending any time here. It was weird and makes a case for Thom Stockton: it’s a spectacle to you, but this place is who I am.

His hometown, and the social issues surrounding it, resonates in a large chunk of his music. “I’m not a politician, I’m not an activist, I just have a heart for things that I truly understand,” he says.

His 2012 song, “Be You,” is considered the theme song of the lyricist. It is an ode to the art of being purely self-loving and to respect and appreciate the roots of who you are. Stockton’s current mayor, Anthony Silva, recently discovered Thom’s music, and the two began emailing back and forth. Long story short, they are going to have lunch soon to discuss “mutual interests.”

Stylistically, Thom is extremely hard to pinpoint. His personal style is sometimes surfer dude, sometimes akin to Ricky Reed of Wallpaper, while others say he’s a rapping Danny Green. He raps with a sort of sand-blasted rasp that is part true-to-Stockton grit and part inspirational and self-loving.

“I’ve been compared to Brother Ali, which is dope. Might be a voice or delivery thing…or it might be the whole elephant in the room that we are both white rappers,” Thom says. “I really try to ignore the white rapper talk. It’s not a black and white thing, its a hip-hop thing. When I first started rapping, I got compared to Vanilla Ice a lot, which kinda sucks.

“I guess its like being from Stockton. I am Stockton. I’m misunderstood, and not what you would expect.”

This summer Thom Stockton is releasing his album 27. An album with a lot of “symbology,” he says, jokingly referencing the famous line from Boondock Saints. 27 is representative of the infamous “27 club,” a group of musicians who all coincidentally died at that age. When Thom was 27, he was well on his way to meeting the imminent doom that accompanies living life way too fast. “It was the darkest time of my life,” he says. “I was left thinking, ‘If I die, what will I be remembered for?’” These are concepts all explored in the song “Legacy” off of 27.

“I didn’t come out with an album when I was 27 because I was so trapped in my own mind,” Thom explains. “I couldn’t get out of my own head to properly get stuff down. Some might call it writer’s block, but I just called it being messed up and struggling. I was hearing the beats in my head and just couldn’t connect it.”

27 is full of nuances and exactly 27 minutes long. The album is solely about Thom, from his love of the living legends to the significance of his tattoos.

“My favorite part of my music is the way it connects with people,” he says. “If I feel it, chances are someone will listen to it and they will feel it to. I make music as a release. The point is to feel and release positivity, negativity and most importantly to connect.”

In every Internet bio, Thom is called “Mr. Make-It-Happen.” He credits this to his notorious nature of being that guy who, no matter what, will find a way.

“I don’t take ‘no’ for an answer. There is a way,” he asserts.

In 2003, Obie Trice’s album Cheers was released, completely inspiring Thom.

“I put it in my head that I will rap with this guy. When I put things in my mind, it exists. I just have to manifest it,” Thom says.

A few years later, after some connections and phone calls, Thom and Obie were flowing together on Thom’s own track, “From the Hometown He Rose.” It all happened when Thom was laying tracks with Dr. Dre’s son, Curtis Young, who overheard Stockton’s dream and made it happen. No more than a month later, Obie and Thom were in Los Angeles filming a music video together for “From the Hometown he Rose.”

Thom will be bringing his Stockton pride to Harlow’s on July 24 in celebration of his album, 27. “Mr. Make-It-Happen” will perform a few oldies as well as the new album with ‘stache, dookie chain and all.

See the newly formed Thom Stockton Trio live at Harlow’s on Thursday, July 24, 2014. Stockton is joined onstage by drummer Jesse Salazar and DJ Epik. They will be opening for Sapient and Illmaculate. Doors open at 8 p.m. and the cover is $10. Learn more at Thomstockton.com.

solo artist Brodi Nicholas is releasing his debut EP on July 12, 2014, at Harlow’s. Mix a little pop, some reggae, a touch of hip-hop and a side of acoustic guitar with smooth vocals, and you’ve got Brodi Nicholas. He’s young with plenty of talent and it doesn’t hurt he’s got the looks. Brodi’s got a face like Bruno Mars and a voice like Aloe Blacc. Hit up his website Brodinicholas.com and check the slick video to his catchy new single “Sail Away.” We also dig the beach-y/reggae vibes of the track “Sea Shore (Feat. D)” also available on his site. Also performing at Brodi’s release show will be Connor and Karlee and T.I.P. Vicious. Doors open early at 5:30 p.m., all ages are welcome and the cover is just $8

After a lifetime in Sacramento, Matt Sertich is taking his solo act to L.A.

A healthy crowd gathers in Midtown for an early show in celebration of Matt Sertich’s first solo record, The Only Way Out is Through, a collection of stripped down, powerful pop songs that speak to love, pain, loss and all the other weird shit that creates the human experience. The vibe is mellow in Harlow’s, a room that can transform from an intimate singer-songwriter cave into a Latin dance extravaganza in the blink of an eye. The bartender is nowhere to be seen. Security guards stand leisurely, making jokes. Toward the back of the club, a table full of dedicated fans who have been following Sertich for decades, from his time in the pop-punk outfit Pocket Change to his 10-year stint in The Generals (with drummer/keyboardist/programmer Kirk Janowiak) to his present day solo career, let out a collective scream when the 37-year-old musician finally sits at the piano.

Sertich wastes no time. He breaks into “I Won’t Let You Down”—a strong, earnest ballad with an atmospheric background—and the room falls silent. His voice is loud and confident, with a thin string of pain that runs deep through his soaring melodies. Sertich is an interesting musician in that the songs he crafts are not exactly what count as popular today. In an era when singers either emulate rustic Americana or stare at the ground feigning disinterest in the world, Sertich chooses to face emotion head-on and write songs that celebrate life’s loftiest themes—pop-y ballads about love and hope. And what he creates comes from an almost childlike approach to music. “As a kid your dream is to write stuff like U2 or Whitney Houston … or what makes you feel so good inside,” he explains. “And as you get older you start getting into scenes and you start reverting backwards, kind of.”

After some soul searching, Sertich realized that he doesn’t have to cater to a scene or a trend. He’s going to make the kind of music that he wanted to make as a kid. And he does it well up there on that stage, singing like he’s trying to win back the girl of his dreams. The crowd, of course, is transfixed.

But Sertich hasn’t always had such good fortune with his music. In fact, much of what he’s faced is enough to make a weaker-willed musician smash his guitar, get a state job, crank out a litter of children and exit without so much as a whimper into the eternal bucket of KFC in the sky. But some of the stories he tells of his frustrating misfortunes are actually pretty funny. You know, once the heartbreak settles in.

For instance, there was a run-in with a Sacramento radio guy a few years back after he wrote “Keep the City Alive,” an ode to the the Sacramento Kings. Naturally, Sertich was excited about debuting his song on-air, but the radio guy played the song and immediately said it was horrible, that it sounded like Say Anything or Peter Gabriel. For Sertich, it was a confusing put down. After all, in his mind, a Peter Gabriel comparison isn’t quite the end of the world. But, still, it was a slight. And it was meant to be harsh.

Or there was one time he went to Los Angeles to be on the popular Heidi and Frank Show (95.5 KLOS). He was super excited about the appearance. That is until he arrived at the studio and found out he was booked for a “love it or hate it” episode, where the hosts would play your song and critique it (along with random callers) live on the air. They played The Generals’ “Just Because,” a fast-paced pop ballad about hope in the midst of darkness. The calls came in. One-after-another. Heidi hated it. Mike said it sounded like a Cure cover band. The song played through and Sertich sat through scathing, seemingly endless criticism. “It was so painful,” he says. “They were just ripping it.”

Anyway, Sertich somehow ended up garnering six votes, enough to sit for the rest of the show. Still, he was discouraged. But that situation—the uncomfortable, nearly unbearable awkwardness—made him stronger, more determined than ever to succeed.

“But I never want to play ‘Just Because’ again,” he admits. “I hate that song.”

Finally, after a weird run-in with The Jim Rose Circus Sideshow, where he was promised thousands of dollars to go on tour, which turned out to be a scam, The Generals decided to amicably call it quits, and Sertich decided to get his solo career off the ground. “I think with Kirk that was the last straw,” Sertich says. “It just depleted him.”

So, as The Generals winded down, Sertich worked as hard as he could on music in between his full-time job waiting tables at Tower Café. He practiced literally every day for a year—no matter how tired he was or how uninspired he felt—and came up with six tracks of piano-based ballads that became The Only Way Out is Through that he performs by himself with a synthesizer and drum machine. In the spirit of The Generals, Sertich’s solo songs are powerful, ’80s-tinged melodies that stand out, especially in 2014’s musical landscape of throwaway pop songs that rely more on tricky production than emotion.

“I grew up loving ballad singers,” Sertich says. “Like cheesy love songs that people make fun of.”

But oftentimes, people make fun of things that are memorable. And popular. Sertich’s obsession for ballads and his ear for powerful, larger-than-life arrangement results in a cinematic vibe, songs you might hear at the end of a movie where the protagonist screams triumphantly in the rain, even though all his friends are dead.

Since Sacramento might not be the best place for an artist like Sertich, he’s packing up his belongings, leaving Sacramento, the only home he’s known for the past 37 years, and taking his movie-ready songs down to Los Angeles, just to see what happens.

When I ask what he’s going to do down there, Sertich points to his CD. “There’s my business card,” he says. “There’s a lot of stuff going on out there. Just to reach out to as many avenues as I can when I’m out there, whether it’s playing as much as possible, networking, going to see a show.”

It’s not going to be an easy road. Sertich knows that. He’ll probably rent a room in Silver Lake, work as a parking valet and do his best to get his music into the hands of the right people. A scary prospect, but for someone who obsesses over melodies and arrangements, it makes perfect sense.

“I’m going to be full of fear because I’ve lived here all my life. There’s a lot of ups and downs. I get it, but it’s just going out there focused,” he says. “I’m not going out there because I’m trying to run away from anything, I’m going out there because I want to make it happen. It’s what I want to do. I don’t have a choice in the matter anymore.”

At Harlow’s, Sertich sits at the piano in the middle of the dark stage, red lights casting an eerie glow against his pale skin. He plays the song “In the End,” written as a letter from his father who passed away in 2005. It begins, “Son, I’m leaving now/ My time has come/ to say goodbye/ Son, I hope you know/ I’ve done the best/ that I could. I never meant to do you wrong/ Never meant to leave you there/ Leave you all alone.”

When Sertich sings, it’s not just the voice. It’s every atom in his body. In his muscles. His skin. Emotions stir in an aura that surrounds him, both joyful and dark. “And I only meant to be your friend,” he sings. “Hope you knew me better in … better in the end.”

Catch Matt Sertich on Thursday, July 10 from 11:30 a.m. to 1 p.m. during the Hot Lunch Concert Series at Fremont Park: 16th and Q Streets, across from Hot Italian. To buy The Only Way Out is Through, go to Mattsertich.bandcamp.com.

The Thermals, Colleen Green
Harlow’s, Sacramento • Monday, Feb. 24, 2014

Midtown on a Monday night in February: The populace is off work, up for perhaps a few drinks and a quick bite at a local gastropub, but mostly craving the soft embrace of their couches and the soporific allure of their full Netflix queues. Let’s face it—the average Sacramentan just wants to be sedated; but Colleen Green, a Los Angelean by way of Boston and emergent stoner-punk extraordinaire, has other plans; she wants to be degraded.

She shreds along to the old tune by the Ramones, lyrics rearranged to reflect her favored brand of self-effacing irony. She stands completely alone onstage behind a pair of dark sunglasses, factory-setting drum machine loop and guitar painted with “Happy Birthday Jeff” in colorful letters. Even with the pared-down aesthetic, she manages to exude an effortless cool, the same cool to be found in abundance on her various independent releases, most notably her latest full-length, 2013’s Sock It to Me.

From the outset of her performance, Green strikes a split figure, indebted to both her East Coast origins and adopted West Coast home. The former Green is old school street punk, a thin coat of ennui stretched over a nervy, raw energy befitting the Kim Gordons and Patti Smiths of the New York scene. The latter is pure pop, a one-woman girl band destined to lilt well-crafted melodies beneath the perpetually sunny skies of Southern California. The sound is timeless, and has seen a lot of good usage in the lo-fi-revivalist climate of recent years, most notably by Bethany Consentino of Best Coast. But Colleen Green is another step down the rabbit hole. You can sense a gray cloud over her Venice Beach, and feel a razor beneath the pristine sand.

The sizeable audience at Harlow’s seems to appreciate both sides of Green; unlike some oddly paired opening acts, it’s easy to understand how she fits into tonight’s affair. Her songs are a perfect build-up to the main event, with mid-tempo ballads like “Every Boy Wants a Normal Girl” and minimalist numbers like “Sock it to Me” priming the audience’s appetite for tight hooks, and acting as a slow-burning fuse for the punk explosion we expect from The Thermals.

And who, to the uninitiated, are The Thermals? How about three generations of punk condensed into one insuppressible trio, who, now one decade and six albums into their career, have encompassed every flavor and concern of the genre—death, optimism, religion, politics, fear, self-reflexivity, self-release—and show no signs of exhausting their seemingly unlimited reserves of energy and abandon.

Lead Hutch Harris, bassist Kathy Foster and drummer Westin Glass power through 20 tracks altogether, rarely catching a breath before launching into another tuneful attack. It appears they can chug through a set list faster than The Ramones, glide along with more romantic pop sensibility than The Killers, and still pack in more chord changes and lyrical themes than your average concept song by The Decemberists. The crowd presses in closer—we can’t get enough.

From the victory cry of “You Will Be Free”; the sing-along groove of “Now We Can See”; and the electric, always crowd-pleasing set-closer “A Pillar of Salt,” not a chord or beat is missed. Harris’ voice is a commanding yet anxious tremolo, punctuating the endless stream of chords, repeating lines twice to add intensity. At these moments, his eyes open in a crazed flare, we feel as if we’re being personally addressed, becoming co-conspirators in his battle cry: “We built too many walls…yeah we built too many walls!”

Standing opposite onstage, Foster is cool as a bullet, her signature updo keeping the beat as she nods along. Harris is making the bold claims, and Foster is backing up each one. Together they produce an outrageous yet credible reaction to the onslaughts and insults of the world.

Earlier in the set, a small-statured young lady approaches the proscenium to make a modest request: “Could you play ‘Everything Thermals?’” Maybe I catch an eye-roll from Harris here. This is a joke-song the group bashed out early in their career, a song that will always follow them, near or far, wanted or not. Every band has one. But, miraculously, they return with it as an encore. The girl is ecstatic. They shred it with the same enthusiasm as their last 20 songs. The world is at peace. How good can a Monday night get?

Pretty good, I answer to myself, but can’t help but wish there were more to join us in the exuberance. When will the unrealized potential of the Sacramento audience wake up to the treasure we have on our hands? Sure, It’s not like I’d enjoy being pressed into an unwashed mass packed way beyond fire capacity, but come on; the scene wants you, every day of the week. The thrills I have described above constituted a $12 fee. When I walked in, Colleen Green was manning the sales table and Kathy Foster was having a casual chat with a few audience members in the middle of the dance floor. “In a world…” the movie trailer might begin. But that world is here.

Big Business on Post-Label Life and Battlefields Forever

When I catch up with Big Business guitarist Scott Martin, he’s exiting a restaurant somewhere between Dallas and Nashville, a little frazzled from an evening prior when he and his Los Angeles-based band mates played a gig at the Gas Monkey Bar N Grill, opening for The Sword on their U.S. tour. These are the first live dates that Big Business has had the chance to play since the Halloween 2013 release of their fourth album, Battlefields Forever. Bassist/vocalist Jared Warren was expecting his first child around the release date, which meant that the road would have to wait.

Their Dallas stop was a memorable one, as Martin reports.

“A guy at the show last night flew in from Sweden,” says Martin. “He heard us on a Sword channel on Spotify, and it played us and he was like, ‘What is this?’ and he flew to Dallas.”

The hubris of this kind of interaction might come off as garish, but Martin’s reference of it is, in fact, at the core of Big Business’ modus operandi as a band now: The little connections made as part of life as a small business.

“I’ve had label experiences where I’ve done all the artwork for the record, yet the label charges us thousands of dollars for art,” says Martin. “You get an itemized list of things they charge you for, and it’ll be like $5,000 for radio, and, you know, no one listens to radio. [With our own label] we know exactly what we’re spending on what, and with us, the most important things are the songs and doing justice to the music we’re writing anyway. All the other stuff has just been a natural series of events.”

Battlefields Forever is actually the third release on the band’s Gold Metal Records, following two Big Business EPs, including 2011’s seismic Quadruple Single. The self-run label—currently housed at the band’s rehearsal space—serves as a vehicle for the fuzz-metal trio to produce and distribute their music on their own terms. Everything from the artwork and layout of the album itself, down to overseeing the actual pressing of the vinyl, was meticulously lorded over by the band. Martin, Warren and drummer Coady Willis bypassed the typical pre-release buzz-game that nearly every band succumbs to in order to get heard. That meant no album advances, no PR campaign and—perhaps most riskily—no distribution deal. That decision, coupled with a temporary moratorium on touring, meant that for the larger populace of music-listeners, critics and magazines, Battlefields Forever was unveiled with all the fury of a mewing kitten.

That is, until you listened to it.

Charging from the get-go with a driving, battle-ready drumbeat, the symbiosis of Warren’s ferociously crunchy low-end is rounded out by Martin’s sludgy accompaniment. Whereas 2009’s Mind the Drift—the band’s last LP for now-defunct metal label Hydra Head—still centered the band around the technical proficiency and rhythmic counterpoints of Warren and Willis (Martin came on board in 2010), Battlefields Forever steadies the ship a bit, allowing a depth of instrumentation to navigate songs through wily walls of fuzz on tunes like “No Vowels,” “Trees” and “Doomsday, Today!”

“All the sounds on the album are our amps,” says Martin regarding any conscious aural or evolutionary decisions made for the album. “That’s what we sound like.”

Calling on their friend Dave Curran—who mans bass guitar for Unsane—to produce the record, Big Business holed up at Entourage Studios in North Hollywood for an intense two-week session that was later mixed at Seaside Lounge in Brooklyn, N.Y., by Curran and producer Andrew Schneider.

“We were paying the studio out of our band fund money, and the clock is ticking when you’re in that situation. So we banged it out pretty fast,” reports Martin. “We were really prepared, so when we went in and tracked everything, I’d already known what overdubs I was gonna do because I use ProTools at home. I’d go home after practice and figure out what other parts the songs needed. We were all technologically savvy in that way. Since it was our responsibility, we basically barged in the door, worked our asses off and left.”

That the album may just be the band’s crowning achievement musically is all the more impetus for them to have taken the reins and done things the right way for them. The incubation period before they could tour the album, too, was likely a blessing in disguise. After all, their current tour is their distribution deal. And it’s a good one.

“Since we don’t have a distro deal, this is kind of it,” says Martin. “We’re traveling around selling our record. Because we run everything, we also talk to the people who buy our stuff and listen to it. We have a close relationship with them. They make suggestions and we try and meet somewhere with them.”

Even when considering merch sales, the band has successfully eliminated a swath of cash-grabbing middle-men by utilizing the services of online marketplace IndieMerch, who more formally facilitate T-shirts, posters and other bits of swag for artists. The company also provides services for the operation of online retail channels for bands and labels. IndieMerch’s back-end software supplies the band with real-time sales reports, and it pays on demand. That means that any time anyone buys a Big Business LP through the online store, the band can view the sale and collect the money right away.

Martin hopes to see a future where more bands adopt the practice of foregoing the perhaps-tempting route of the label/PR machine and just put some elbow grease into a truly DIY system.

“It’s not that difficult to do on your own,” explains Martin. “We have a name for ourselves after being around for so long, but it’s all really easy stuff to do. Hopefully the protocol of how albums are released, just generated out of hype and whatnot, I hope there’s a big change in that. I hope people start doing things for themselves, like this. You just source out the jobs amongst each other and figure out how to make a record.

“Everybody that has gotten hold of us or done anything with us regarding the record has all been through their terms and it’s a mutual working-together situation. It’s really awesome.”

Big Business plays at Harlow’s (2708 J Street) Wednesday, March 19, 2014, along with O’Brother, opening for The Sword. The show is 21 and over and starts at 8 p.m. Tickets are $20 to $25. For more information on Big Business, visit Bigbigbusiness.com.

Gather your crew, fill up the gas tank and get your ass down to Noise Pop in San Francisco! It’s a 22-year-old, week-long, citywide celebration of all things indie and all things creative, and it’s worth the trip. This year, Noise Pop goes down from Feb. 25 to March 2, 2014 at various venues around the SF area. There are concerts, art shows, film events, happy hours and more. Here are five bands we think you’ll dig, but there are many others. Check them all out at Noisepop.com.

Broods: Thursday, Feb. 27, 2014 at Rickshaw Stop w/ ASTR, DJ Aaron Axelsen
New-to-the-scene brother/sister synth-pop duo from Auckland, New Zealand. Late last year Broods released two singles online and built a solid buzz. On Feb. 4, 2014, they released their debut self-titled EP that was produced by Joel Little, the same guy who produced the Grammy award-winning artist Lorde (who also happens to be from Auckland). Can the duo match the meteoric rise of Lorde? We’ll have to see, but they’ve got a sound that’s hot, an in-demand producer and high profile record deals. See ‘em first live at Noise Pop.

Aan: Thursday, Feb. 27, 2014 at The New Parish w/ Social Studies
Aan (pronounced “on”) is an experimental pop band from Portland, Ore., with a spacey, discordant sound. Their interesting blend of rock, folk and psychedelia has landed them on tour with legends like The Smashing Pumpkins and Built to Spill. Their debut record, Amor Ad Nauseum, was released by Portland imprint Party Damage on Feb. 4, 2014. After their Noise Pop gig, Aan will be performing in Sacramento at Luigi’s on March 1, 2014 then they tour their way to South By Southwest.

El Ten Eleven: Friday, Feb. 28, 2014 at The New Parish
El Ten Eleven is a Los Angeles-based instrumental duo that’s been around for about 10 years. What makes them unique is that they loop guitar and bass tracks in a live setting with electronic drums, resulting in this crazy wizard-like wall of rock that can fill a room better than most bands with five members. They’ve built a respectable fan base thanks to relentless touring, they’ve got five acclaimed albums under their belt and have even racked up countless contributions to film and television (not surprising given their music is epic and cinematographic). They just released a new short EP last week called For Emily. After their performance at Noise Pop, El Ten Eleven will also make a stop in Sacramento at Harlow’s on March 6, 2014.

Dirty Ghosts: Friday, Feb. 28, 2014 at Slim’s w/ Cold Cave, Painted Palms and Happy Fangs
Dirty Ghosts’ front woman Allyson Baker is, simply put, bad-freaking-ass. By the age of 17 she was playing guitar in heavy-hitting punk and hardcore bands around her hometown of Toronto. Eventually she ditched home for San Francisco and played around town in some bands before forming Dirty Ghosts, a major departure from her punk-y roots. Dirty Ghosts is much more danceable and funky, less guitar-based, more groove oriented. Their 2012 record Metal Moon is hot as all hell, a must listen for fans of bands like !!! (Chk Chk Chk). Speaking of, Baker has collaborated with the !!! dudes many times before, both live and on record, singing on the rockin’ track “Station (Meet Me at The)” on the album Thr!!!er. See Dirty Ghosts debut new songs from their follow up to Metal Moon at Noise Pop!

Dr. Dog: Saturday, March 1, 2014 at The Warfield w/ Saint Rich, Moses Sumney
Philadelphia-based psychedelic rock group Dr. Dog released one of the best records of their decade-plus career last year. B-Room was recorded at the band’s own studio, a rundown former silversmith mill that the group retrofitted to be a functional recording studio and home base. They recorded the album mostly in full-band live takes and it really captured their roots-y, genre-mashing sound. They’re a perfect fit to headline Noise Pop, this is a must-see show.

—J.Carabba

Earthless, Brubaker, Joy

Harlow’s, Sacramento • Friday, Oct. 18, 2013
Words by Andrew Scoggins

Earthless is the kind of band you feel compelled to talk about with your friends. Earthless is also the kind of band that will likely damage your hearing irrevocably without earplugs. And yet, it’s completely worth it.

Last Friday’s psychedelic freak-out at Harlow’s got started on a decidedly loud note when San Diego-based openers Joy took the stage. After the band took a shot with a fan and asked the 20-person crowd to please come closer, the band began to shred. The verb “shredding” doesn’t seem to quite do the band justice. It’s almost as if the band came together in the beginning, listened to some Led Zeppelin and decided all the songs needed to be in double time and they all needed at least five to ten more guitar solos per song.

Joy smashed through song after song at a breakneck pace. And although there were a few precious moments, like on their new track “Evil,” where the band slowed down to allow some of their bluesier riffs to breathe, the majority of time the members spent thrashing as quickly as they possibly could. Guitarist Zach Oakley hardly touched the lower end of his fret board, drummer Paul Morrone lost a stick between smashes and kept going, and it’s possible that bassist Justin Hulson took more solos than Oakley did. Sadly much of this wild and reckless jamming was lost on the sparse early crowd, but expect big things from this young band.

As people trickled in, Brubaker began setting up. Brubaker is a band that has deep roots in the Sacramento scene. Singer Gene Smith and drummer Neil Franklin both played in Kai Kln; they even played a few shows with Pearl Jam and Nirvana back in the grunge-y heyday of the ‘90s, and they certainly brought the grunge to Harlow’s. What started as straightforward rock ‘n’ roll with an almost southern-rock tinge quickly shifted into blown out, drop-D, nearly Motörhead territory halfway through their set.

Their smattering of fans (most of whom looked like they saw Brubaker playing with Pearl Jam) roared in approval. The most vocal of whom were two larger tattooed middle-aged women. They were spilling out of their skinny jeans, drunkenly swaying and grinding on each other like they were at a Def Leppard show, which was certainly something.

Finally, Earthless came on stage and threw down the gauntlet. Strumming a few warbling notes of feedback, guitarist Isaiah Mitchell nodded to drummer Mario Rubalcaba and the band’s jet engine took off. It’s tempting to say that there’s no band in the world that can simply go the way Earthless can; please allow me to explain why:

Mitchell began with a face-melting solo. That term’s a shoddy cliché at this point but there is simply no other way to describe the sheer visceral emotion of hearing a man pluck so many perfect notes in quick succession that the skin of your face smashes backward from the distortion until it’s simply too much, and it plops down lifelessly to the floor. There was a small voice whispering in the back of my head saying, “There’s no way, there’s simply no way they can go faster,” and then Mitchell looked over at Rubalacaba and Rubalcaba grit his teeth and his sinewy arms beat the skins even faster. The music spun out of control upward and onward. It looped through breakdowns and crescendos, propelling the crowd far out of the dimly lit room.

There were no words. Earthless is for all intents and purposes an instrumental band only and that’s OK, because words would almost be a distraction from the utter sonic insanity. There was a story traipsing across the tongue of every slowly bent guitar lick, the footsteps were beaten into the earth with every stomp of the bass drum and the whole thing was kept alive by that throbbing heartbeat of the bass line. It became so total, that at the close of each 15 or so minute song you almost felt lost, unsure of the next step to take, but then the distortion growled back to life and you were safe again, swept up into the music.

Then again, if this is all too much stoner hyperbole, Earthless is just pretty fucking rock ‘n’ roll. If Earthless was the soundtrack to a movie, it’d likely be a pulpy Heavy Metal hyper-violent romp. There would be gunfights, car-chases, half-naked women and more explosions than would really be feasible on any Hollywood budget. And it’d probably be set in space.

It’s a shame Harlow’s was only about half full for the majority of Earthless’ set. They’re a band you almost feel obligated to tell your friends, co-workers and grocery-store bag ladies about. Do yourself a favor, listen to Earthless, come to their next show in Sacramento and find me in the pit. I’ll be there, and I’ll probably be sweaty.