thingstodoinchicago

Since moving here from Cincinnati in 2009, drummer Jeremy Cunningham has anchored several local ensembles, including orchestral jazz squad Resavoir and a crack quartet with guitarist Jeff Parker, bassist Paul Bryan, and saxophonist Josh Johnson–which is also the core group on most of his solo album The Weather Up There, due Friday, February 28, via Northern Spy. The album celebrates his brother Andrew, killed in a home invasion robbery in 2008; in a short documentary about the project, Cunningham says, “It’s helpful to reconnect with the whole of a person’s life, and not just the worst thing.” The Weather Up There creates a nuanced portrait of Andrew as it drifts between soulful, loping grooves and recordings of family members discussing the effects of gun violence. On Saturday, February 22, Cunningham’s quartet plays a release show at Constellation; also on the bill are poet Mykele Deville and a duo of Resavoir members Akenya Seymour and Will Miller.

The video art of genderqueer punk performer and artist Vaginal Davis is showing at the Art Institute of Chicago until April, and the local Black, Brown, and Indigenous Crew are throwing a BIPOC punk show at the Art Institute’s Chicago Stock Exchange Trading Room that testifies to Davis’s legacy in another, equally powerful way! On Friday, February 21, Blacker Face, the Breathing Light, Mermaid N.V., the Uhuruverse, and YGSLRHSTFUT will tear the roof off; admission is free, but you must preregister via the Art Institute’s website.

Gossip Wolf first heard local singer, songwriter, multi-instrumentalist, and Intonation Music Workshop instructor Wyatt Waddell last year. He’d posted a few songs on Bandcamp and Soundcloud, and his debut single, 2018’s “Cyber Eyes,” uses a knockout combo of languid guitar riffs, flamboyant bass, funky keys, and relaxed soul vocals. On Thursday, February 20, he plays a free show upstairs at Schubas as part of the monthly Behind the Scene series. v

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There’s a difference between surf and instrumental rock–not every rock ‘n’ roll tune without a vocal is surf. The likes of Duane Eddy, Link Wray, and even Booker T. & the MGs have all been mistaken for surf artists, but none of them have had that “wet” reverb sound favored by west-coast guitarists such as Dick Dale and Dave Myers. However, Man or Astro-Man?–who emerged out of Auburn, Alabama, in the 90s–blur the line that divides those two traditions (and they’ve occasionally used vocals too). Taking cues from classic surf and the Ventures’ echo-effect-laden 1964 album The Ventures in Space, they go far beyond retro nostalgia, incorporating punk attitude, modern synths and sound-effect machines, and dramatic samples (including snippets of Spider-man storybook records and “control room” dialogue from science-fiction serials). At their shows, the band members wear space suits and assume extraterrestrial identities, and they’ve been known to send other musicians out on the road as their “clones.” Except for a brief hiatus in the early 2000s, Man or Astro-Man? have remained in orbit, continuing to find new angles without stagnating or bastardizing their sound. Their most recent album, 2013’s Steve Albini-produced Defcon 5. . . 4. . . 3. . . 2. . . 1, prominently features hard power chords and often recalls Davie Allan’s soundtracks to 1960s biker movies. All props to any band who would dare take a Harley-Davidson into outer space. v

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Trumpeter Jacob Wick grew up in the Chicago area and now lives in Mexico City. Like his contemporaries Birgit Ulher, Peter Evans, Axel Dorner, and Nate Wooley, he employs extended techniques that enable him to produce sounds very different from conventional brass playing. His vocabulary encompasses coarse-grained ribbons of frayed wind, rhythmic puffs that resemble a steam engine in action, fluttering snatches of nascent melody, and the occasional brazen trad-jazz lick; with his command of circular breathing, he can keep a steady stream of sound going for upwards of 20 minutes. But he’s not interested in merely wowing people with musical prowess; particularly in solo performances, such as those captured on the 2019 LP Feel (Thin Wrist), he invites audiences to step into his shoes and experience things queerly. In the LP’s liner notes, he describes his ideal performance as a process: “queer sound–>queer time–>queer space.” By challenging received ideas (about how a trumpet sounds, about how long a phrase can last), he also invites listeners to develop an awareness that everything around them needs to be understood on its own terms, not according to assumptions about what’s expected. For his first Chicago appearance in almost two years, Wick will first play solo, then with drummer Phil Sudderberg. Their 2019 collaborative tape, Combinatory Pleasures (Astral Spirits), engages pithiness as rigorously as the trumpeter’s solos do duration. One prescription guides their otherwise wide-open improvisations: as soon as the music they’re playing approaches definition, they stop. This concert is part of the 2020 Frequency Festival, booked by former Reader music critic Peter Margasak as an extension of his year-round series. v

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Sound artists Oren Ambarchi and Crys Cole have both had thrilling careers. Ambarchi has run experimental label Black Truffle for more than a decade, and he’s collaborated with a wide array of avant-garde luminaries, including Sunn O))), Keiji Haino, and Keith Rowe and John Tilbury (both veterans of long-running UK improvising group AMM). Last year, the Australian musician released the resplendent solo LP Simian Angel (on Austrian label Editions Mego) right in the middle of summer, which felt like perfect timing: its two long-form pieces invoke hot, humid weather. “Palm Sugar Candy” weaves conga, guitar, and gauzy synths into a meditative tableau, inviting listeners to soak in every curious melody and texture. Crys Cole, born in Canada and based in Berlin, has also taken part in impressive collaborations over the past decade, including the duo Ora Clementi with Australian composer James Rushford, but her solo albums are some of her most exciting. Like Simian Angel, her upcoming Beside Myself (Students of Decay) features two pieces that each take up a full side of an LP. “The Nonsuch” is inspired by aural hallucinations and conjures its queasy atmosphere with squabbling electronics, field recordings, ASMR-like vocalizing, and unidentifiable noises, all of which combine to give it a hypnotic, inscrutable mystique. The artists will each play a solo set to kick off Chicago’s annual Frequency Festival, booked by former Reader music critic Peter Margasak as an extension of his year-round series. Ambarchi will improvise with a guitar, a Leslie cabinet (an amplifier that uses rotating horns or drums to produce tremolo with a literal Doppler effect), and other electronics; Cole will present an electroacoustic set combining live and prerecorded elements. Her goal, she says, is to induce listeners to focus deeply on the music, such that their perceptions of space and time are altered. Given that Frequency Festival is known for highlighting the most exciting artists in forward-thinking music, it couldn’t have chosen two better acts to kick off its 2020 edition. v

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Since 1997, Evanston indie rocker Justin Roberts has built a deep discography of children’s music that treats listeners of all ages with respect. He first got an inkling that he wanted to make originals for kids while teaching at Step by Step Montessori in Minneapolis in the early 90s, and he’s since become an unusual type of star in children’s music: though he didn’t have kids himself, his ability to speak to them through music has earned him three Grammys for his independently released albums. Roberts became a father for the first time in 2018, and on his 15th solo album, the brand-new Wild Life, he reflects on his newfound responsibilities with the same gentle care he takes when he describes our complicated world to young kids. He sings about his wondrous curiosity about his child’s possible future (“Maybe She’ll Have Curly Hair”) and the queasy mix of trepidation and pride he experienced when his child began to show some independence (“When You First Let Go”), approaching these complex emotions with a welcoming tenderness that validates the experiences of parenthood. To help him color these plush yet minimal lullabies, he recruited a group of old and new collaborators: Eighth Blackbird pianist Lisa Kaplan, Flat Five vocalist Nora O’Connor, Robbie Fulks’s drummer Gerald Dowd, and cellist Anna Steinhoff (who’s also Roberts’s wife). With Wild Life, Roberts uses the same musical approach he takes with his children’s songs to reach adult ears, whether they belong to parents or to people who’ve never wanted kids: when the buoyant “Heart Like a Door” reaches its symphonic climax, it sounds as lovely as an indie-rock classic. v

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In 2013 mathy Chicago emo band Mountains for Clouds dropped their debut album, Maybe It’s Already Everywhere, just as the scene underwent major changes. Fourth-wave emo was on the rise, and went on to become the toast of indie rock: emerging bands started selling out midsize venues that reunited indie-rock veterans often struggled to fill, and several fourth-wave groups issued era-defining albums, among them the Hotelier, the World Is a Beautiful Place, and Foxing. But by the end of the decade, that wave had crested and broken and a new set of bands were setting the pace–Origami Angel’s hyperactive pop punk, Glass Beach’s jittery symphonic indie pop, and Dogleg’s road-burning rock were beginning to take hold. In this new era, Mountains for Clouds’ relaxed but galloping guitar loops and languid, intimate melodies can either feel antiquated or come across as distinctive and idiosyncratic, depending on your perspective. On their new second album, Anxious & Aware (Count Your Lucky Stars), the three-piece prove they’ve lost none of their skill at wringing emotion out of bittersweet guitars. On the lumbering “Rememory,” front man Andrew Stefano sweetly intones lyrics about aging, self-doubt, and memory atop a stately shoegaze riff; the song’s quietest moments enhance its reflective mood, and make growing old sound like getting better. v

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Chicago has grown into a full-on hub for summer music festivals. We’re home to some of the biggest and most beloved fests on the planet, and every weekend from late spring to early fall you can find outdoor music happening on city streets big and small. But why should the warm months get all the fun? Six years ago, the folks at the Empty Bottle had the genius idea to host some bands outdoors in the frigid cold of February, and what seemed like a surefire bomb has grown into one of their most popular annual events. This year’s Music Frozen Dancing features the biggest lineup yet, with a mix of bona fide indie-rock legends and excellent local acts. Headlining the show are Pennsylvania noise-rock mainstays Pissed Jeans, and also high on the bill are iconic posthardcore band Hot Snakes (keeping the momentum going on their reunion stint) and resurrected postpunk band Crash Course in Science. The locals include noisy industrial goth duo Hide (not a band you’d expect to see performing in broad daylight), prog-pop outfit the Hecks, and scuzz-rockers Hitter. The show takes place right next to the Bottle on Cortez–and in case it gets too cold out there, the inside bar stays open the entire time. v

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Amalea Tshilds is a familiar face to anyone who’s ever enjoyed a meal at Logan Square’s beloved Lula Cafe, but in the past few years she’s also raised her profile as a singer-songwriter. It’s a decided shift from running the neighborhood restaurant she’s co-owned for more than two decades, but her musical pursuits are hardly new. Tshilds has trafficked in warm, homespun Americana for years, singing and strumming around town with Girls of the Golden West and Pollyanna Vox (and before that with Jim Becker’s Paulina Hollers). More recently she’s taken the spotlight with her own music–dulcet and comforting, it’s rooted in folk and country traditions and grounded by the caress of her voice. Tshilds’s second full-length, Love on the Ground, is a thoughtful collection of carefully rendered love songs that soothe like a balm. It’s a more personal album than Painted Tiles, her 2006 debut–by her own description, it’s “confident in its vulnerability”–and on a handful of tunes it uses borrowed lyrics for inspiration. The title track pulls from Paul Verlaine’s poem “L’Amour par Terre,” which Tshilds says she was drawn to for its “beautiful imagery of a statue of Cupid blown to the ground,” she explains. If that visual is severe, Tshilds’s tender voice is disarming, and she elegantly contrasts the words with her gentle delivery. She draws on another French poet, Charles Baudelaire, on the haunting yet seductive “Sisina,” layering her vocals into a moody tapestry framed by Sam Wagster’s swooning pedal-steel guitar. The poetry of St. Francis of Assisi guides album highlight “Lemon Orchard,” which billows with gauzy harmonies that circle the cooling refrain “I have to wring out the light when I get home.” To celebrate her new self-release, Tshilds is joined by her band, which includes Wagster, Elise Bergman, Gillian Lisee, and Joe Adamik, as well as album guests Becker, Douglas McCombs, Marydee Reynolds and Holly Stevens. Local song man Tim Kaiser opens, joined by his Axis: Sova bandmate Jeremy Freeze as well as Josh Johannpeter, Dan Browning, Kent Lambert, and Jeanine O’Toole. v

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Chicago rapper-singer Rich Jones brought his multigenerational monthly hip-hop series All Smiles to a close in April 2019, but its spirit lives on at this Subterranean show he’s headlining. The bill includes great local MCs who might not otherwise have any reason to cross paths, beginning with up-and-comer Musa Reems. On his recent self-released EP, November’s To Whom It May Concern, he speeds through hard verses atop sleepy synths and snaggletoothed percussion; he enlivens “Zombies” (which features Chicago great Mick Jenkins) by switching between thick staccato bars and quick stanzas of rhymes. I imagine Reems will have more music coming out soon, including what he’s been making with new multi-city hip-hop collective Dumb Intelligence, which also includes both members of Free Snacks. Also on the lineup is gifted storyteller David Ashley; this is one of the first local shows he’s performed since dropping his latest album, Deep Down Inside (Helpful Music), in September. Ashley’s songs combine dry vocals, understated delivery, and flair for grimy, warped instrumentals, and he can impart his briefest narratives with affecting pathos. On his January single, “Plight,” he confronts Black death and drug abuse via raps that corkscrew through dreamy synths, and his performance brings an air of hard-won triumph to an otherwise bleak song. v

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With their ruffled shirts, baggy Tripp pants, and signature painted-on mustache, Dorian Electra always look like they’re ready for a goth meetup at the Renaissance Faire. The nonbinary pop star is all about being too much, and though they’re still a relative newcomer, that energy has already earned them a fervent indie-pop following. Electra’s debut album, last year’s Flamboyant, consists of 11 energetic hyperpop tracks that explore a wild array of sounds and subjects: The campy “Career Boy” satirizes cubicle culture, and “Live by the Sword” (cowritten by 100 Gecs’ Dylan Brady) sounds like a backing track for an intergalactic joust. But the best example of Electra’s maximalist style is the album’s title track–an ode to going “all the way” that features over-the-top Auto-Tuned vocals, sweeping piano melodies, striking synth chords, and spicy whip cracks. The music video plays out like a Liberace fever dream: champagne, candelabras, sequins, and feathers abound, while Electra lounges in front of a roaring fire in a red silk robe. They’ve released videos for five Flamboyant tracks so far, and each is worth a watch; their songs are solid, and their sense of theatrics makes them even more fun. Electra’s most recent tour involved dramatic fashion, backup dancers, and crowd surfing–they even hired two sword fighters to serve as an opening act in London. This show offers another chance to spend an evening in Electra’s dreamy, chaotic world. v

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