Don't sleep on opening acts, people. Last night I saw Califone open for Wilco at the Overture Center in Madison, and the skronky Chicago indie-folk band shamed me for my shockingly inadequate knowledge of its music. I plan on rectifying that, starting with last year's All My Friends Are Funeral Singers, which I picked up at the merch table. So far the record seems a touch less dynamic and powerful than Califone's live show, which built from broken-down country blues to blisteringly loud and roaring squalls of sonic riffage with the inevitable crawl of a land-choked mudslide. You can tell as much from the album version of "Funeral Singers," which is quieter here than the thrilling in-concert highlight it was last night. Still, good song.Sunday, February 21, 2010
How am I not already a fan of Califone?
Don't sleep on opening acts, people. Last night I saw Califone open for Wilco at the Overture Center in Madison, and the skronky Chicago indie-folk band shamed me for my shockingly inadequate knowledge of its music. I plan on rectifying that, starting with last year's All My Friends Are Funeral Singers, which I picked up at the merch table. So far the record seems a touch less dynamic and powerful than Califone's live show, which built from broken-down country blues to blisteringly loud and roaring squalls of sonic riffage with the inevitable crawl of a land-choked mudslide. You can tell as much from the album version of "Funeral Singers," which is quieter here than the thrilling in-concert highlight it was last night. Still, good song.
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