Califone @ Iota
What happened to my Americana? Somewhere out there, crotchety old folkies, scruffy bluesmen, and maybe even an early alt. country pioneer or two are listening to Califone and wondering the same thing. And it’s true – this may not be your parents’ roots music, but we like it that way.
Sunday night at Iota, even stubborn traditionalists would have a hard time denying the delicate picking and mild harmonies of “Michigan Girls” – though they’d no doubt be puzzled by the violin-noise-skronk bridge. Of course, that’s all par for the course for Califone, currently the only band we know that expends a good deal of energy trying to coax the perfect amount of feedback out of a banjo. The atmospheric sound-scrapes of fellow Chicagoans Wilco’s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot are Califone’s younger, more out-going cousin, but unlike Wilco, Califone rarely cut the noise with pop vocals or playful keyboards.
Of the material last night, only the stately “Spider’s House” had real bounce, moving along with a classic pop piano line reminiscent of Steely Dan. Elsewhere there were some surprising Mark Knopfler moments, but that’s about as easy as the touchstones came. Instead Califone were bent on filling up the room with sound and letting the songs and faint melodies gradually seep out. Some moments were more captivating than others: "The Eye That You Lost in the Crusades" dragged despite its interesting percussion choices and "Fisherman's Wife" was livened only by guest Amy Domingues' great work on cello (a nice addition throughout). Likewise, few bands are as bookish, studied, and low-key as these guys. That low-key nature got put to the test a couple times, when two broken guitar strings and then a couple horrible mic squalls threaten to ruin the evening. But Califone emerged in good humor for a set's showstopping final third.
Drawing from their latest album Roots and Crowns, the band brought back out a horn section to add some funk to the shambling Latin-rock of “Pink and Sour.” A good new song that takes off in the live setting, the interplay of ascending guitar line and wordless vocal in the chorus comes as close as Califone gets to a traditional hook. Then, switching gears, they managed to recall the Velvets’ “Heroin” in its repeating guitar figure, but substituted alternately wallowing and soaring horns in place of “Heroin”’s sped-up crescendo. Closer “Three Legged Animals” was an absolute tour-de-force, amping up much like Califone favorite “Your Golden Ass,” while stretching its legs a little more over a romping floor tom beat. And with that, the horn section was back at it again, blasting the mute out of their trumpet and trombone and throwing cacophony in with all that dissonance, feedback, and distortion.
With Califone, Tim Rutili’s lyrics usually get a lot of mention. He tends to mumble and slur his words in a live setting, which takes the luster off the off-kilter lyrics (“Dissection wise / Half onion stone / Stuff your mattress / Loose dog loose” anyone?). Yet whether it’s utterly indecipherable or a gem of a couplet like “When you fall, you fall like fists / Of snow soaked in turpentine”, the vocals so often serve as a calm in the middle of a storm. In the midst of creaky violins, rattling snares, and barbed horns, Rutili’s voice slides in to remind us that there’s still a melody at work here, that there’s still a message to this delicate, rootsy madness.
Photo from Califone's website, by photographer Tristan Loper.