Top Tickets

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The premise is a little unbelievable: free concerts of big-name bands in a mini amphitheater at a world-class brewery. What’s the catch?

There isn’t one, says Laura Muckenhoupt, music specialist at Lagunitas. Last month saw Les Claypool’s Duo de Twang playing a benefit for a fisherman at Lagunitas, and upcoming shows include the Sierra Leone Refugee All Stars, Charlie Musselwhite, Vintage Trouble (pictured) and others.

No, there’s no catch, but we warn you: getting in isn’t always easy. The 325-seat amphitheater fills up so quickly that tickets are required, even for free shows. Lagunitas announces the dates only after the bands themselves do, and tickets are available through the bands’ own websites. All concerts are on Mondays or Tuesdays—unusual nights to see live music, which Muckenhoupt chalks up to Lagunitas not wanting to compete with other local venues. But still, you’ve gotta be quick and in-the-know for a shot at tickets.

A free Del McCoury Band concert in a mini-Greek Theater while drinking normal-priced Lagunitas beers? Yeah, it’s worth it. The Lagunitas Summer Concert Series features a Noise Pop show on Monday, July 29, and the Wheeler Brothers on Tuesday, Aug. 20. Free. See Lagunitas.com for (slightly more) details. 1280 N. McDowell Blvd., Petaluma. 707.778.8776.&

North Bay Noise

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Note: We get CDs aplenty sent to us here at the ‘Bohemian,’ which usually find their way into these pages throughout the year. This week, while no means a comprehensive coverage of every single local album we’ve received of late, we pull a sampling of the more recent ones that have shown up in our mailbox.

Boo Radley’s House, ‘Eye to I’

Presented in seven “chapters,” Eye to I is a progressively minded metal saga. If Queensryche had made Operation: Mindcrime in 2013 instead of 1988, it still wouldn’t approach the ambitions contained here. With an average length of around eight minutes, each chapter vacillates between calm and storm, giving vocalist Bart Tramer a workout in expressive range over the band’s lock-tight riffs and effects-laden atmosphere. Behind the boards for the recording is legendary engineer and producer Billy Anderson (Neurosis, Sleep, Melvins), so this ain’t no Garageband mp3—the mix is as strong as Atticus Finch’s courtroom resolve. The final chapter, “Enter the House of I,” is 15 minutes of all-over-the-place adventure featuring some of the most dizzying work ever laid down by guitarist Eddie Rogers; it closes a record that’s weirdly perfect for Sunday morning.—G.M.

Poor Man’s Whiskey, ‘Like a River: A Tribute to Kate Wolf’

Banjos and fiddles and bluegrass, oh my! In paying tribute to revered singer-songwriter Kate Wolf, Poor Man’s Whiskey deliver a good ole’ fusion of Southern rock and bluegrass sounds. The fast-paced toe-tapping fun drives tracks like “Eyes of a Painter” and “Picture Puzzle,” where keeping up with the quick lyrics and faster rhythms can be a challenge. Slowing it down a bit, “Like a River” and “Here in California” offer beautiful arrangements and soft melodies—Wolf’s stock in trade. But mostly, Like a River is quirky, funny and perfectly bluegrass. In “Everybody’s Looking for the Same Thing,” there’s such an abundance of instruments (I swear I heard a kazoo) that absorbing all the sounds and weird noises and yelling is a little overwhelming. All in all, Like a River is worth a listen, and an interesting detour from the band who made playing Dark Side of the Moon in a bluegrass style cool.—A.H.

Secret Cat, ‘Numeral’

Anyone lucky enough to have witnessed a rare live performance by Aardvark Ruins—every noisy, branch-waving, spazzcore second of it—should shed any expectations of the band’s other iteration as Secret Cat. Numeral, a seven-song album released in March 2013, is much more about the tightly wound, three-minute pop song than chaos and burbles. Forgive me this ’90s moment, but Secret Cat sounds like a meeting between Mr. Bungle and Ween in the parking lot of a decrepit drive-in theater while Plan 9 from Outer Space plays on a lone, blurry screen and Weezer sells hot dogs at the snack stand. “The Return” is particularly catchy, with a bit of a ’60s space flair laid over a galloping drum beat. Secret Cat went straight-up old-school and released Numeral on cassette (and CD); each one is hand-painted, just like halcyon days of yore, and includes a download of the album.—L.C.

Midnight Sun Massive, ‘Who’s Feeling Irie?’

Less accustomed to the recording studio than the live stage, local reggae veterans Midnight Sun Massive nonetheless offer a serviceable facsimile of their crowd-rocking shows on this sunny, breezy, 12-track album, mastered by Blair Hardman at Zone Recording. Beholden to no strict style, the band swerves fluidly between roots reggae, dancehall, rocksteady and ragamuffin rhythms with doses of hip-hop (“Summer Girl,” “U.N.I.T.Y.”), Caribbean (“Amor Amável”) and ’80s pop (“Coming Through”). With liner-note dedications to both Johnny Otis and Adam Yauch, the record also includes the band’s cover of Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Goin’ On,” which replaces the original’s deliquescent arrangement with upstrokes, cabasa and synthesizers. Who’s feeling irie? I’m guessing Midnight Sun Massive, that’s who.—G.M.

Midnight Sun Massive, ‘Live’

Reggae is best experienced live, in the moment, possibly under a fragrant cloud of good vibrations. All that this entails (you’re on your own with the fragrant cloud) can be found on Midnight Sun Massive’s new album, Live. The 10-song collection of live recordings is a response to fans, says the band, who have been seeking a way to take home that irie feeling from the hardworking band’s performances. Recent originals make up most of the album, which includes a few medleys. Covers of “Rivers of Babylon” and “What’s Goin’ On” are rough in spots, as the liner notes point out, but “like most love affairs,” the band says, it’s “always worth it.”—N.G.

J.Kendall, ‘Moving Forward’

On Moving Forward, J.Kendall aims to transcend genres by blending electro soul, R&B and club sounds. Soulful, smooth rhythms take the spotlight on the Oakland-born singer’s new album in songs like “What I Want” and “Cloud Ride.” Others, like “J.Kendall,” conjure a hypnotic spell with his calming voice. A female singer enters the picture on “Seconds Minutes,” allowing for a soothing combination of differing tones. When Kendall sticks to R&B, he nails it, and at times sounds a bit John Legend–esque. When he steps into the realm of hip-hop, things just get weird: “All Night Long” breaks out the Auto-Tune, and “Oh!” (featuring N8 the Gr8) shows J.Kendall trying too hard to produce a “club” song. But for the most part, J.Kendall has got it together with some soothing tunes. Sequence your player right, and you won’t be disappointed.—A.H.

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Dan Imhoff, ‘Agraria’

Most know Dan Imhoff for his work as an author and environmental advocate, writing on issues of biodiversity, farm bills and industrial animal factories. What people might not know is that Imhoff is a lifelong musician, performing both solo and with his band Cahoots. In 2010, after producing a 450-page critique of factory farming, he took a sabbatical to the Berklee College of Music in Boston and took classes in ear training and composition. Agraria features songs written during this musical sojourn. The album is the perfect soundtrack for a summer on a Sonoma County farm, complete with fiddle-fueled songs for a Friday-night barn dance, as well as pensive tunes made for sunset-watching in an apple orchard. The album features lap steel guitar and backing vocals from Landpaths executive director Craig Anderson, pedal steel from local whiz Josh Yenne, fiddle from the Brothers Comatose’s Philip Brezina and many others. Produced at Prairie Sun studios, Agraria offers a glimpse of how to successfully channel political passion into art.—L.C.

Dave Haskell Group, ‘Pivot Point’

Pivot Point, the latest album by jazz guitarist Dave Haskell, is a little strange at first, like a hotel shower. The lack of repetition in rhythm and melody is uncustomary, but after a few minutes, one’s mindset undergoes a complete shift, and the music feels totally normal—like it’s been this way all along. The instrumental numbers are inspired, in particular “For Barack,” but it’s up to the listener to interpret the meaning. Piano, keyboards, bass and drums round out the sound, with guests accompanying the four core members on some tracks. Haskell’s shredding is as delicate as it is powerful, and he also invites guitarist Robben Ford to add his flavor on a couple tracks for a sound more like a duet than a duel.—N.G.

The Ruminators, ‘Call Me Out of Your Mind’

If Warren Zevon had moved to Athens, Ga., in 1985, he’d have made an album like this: smart, emotional and propelled by energy without relying on distorted guitars. Not to say Call Me Out of Your Mind is fast, either—”Something’s Wrong with My Baby” is a beautiful ballad sung by Jennifer Goudeau—but the songs, penned and sung half the time by frontman Greg Scherer, contain that bubbling-just-under-the-surface substance that’s made the band a Sonoma County favorite since forming in 1989. Recorded by the Last Record Store’s Doug Jayne with guitarist and longtime local engineer Allen Sudduth, and mastered at Prairie Sun, the sonic quality is sharp enough to capture every swampy organ and bass lick in the near-psychedelic “Too Soon to Say” (with tasteful organ by Ron Stinnett) and the classic sound of a hard guitar pick-hitting roundwound strings at the beginning of “Drifting in the Wind” and the title track.—G.M.

Spends Quality, ‘Time Peace’

CFO Recordings rose out of the popular Sonicbloom hip-hop collective with the vision of label exec and founding member Spencer Williams, who also MCs under the moniker Spends Quality. On Time Peace, one of a trifecta of albums released by CFO in 2013, Williams raps over smooth, summertime beats produced by Mr. Tay. Keeping with Sonicbloom’s positive hip-hop vibe, this album is the perfect soundtrack for barbecues and lounging by the Russian River, all friends, smiles and good intentions. Maybe it’s all that Sonoma County sunshine, but Spends Quality avoids the gritty subject matter of most rap albums in favor of a celebration of love and life. “I ain’t flamboyant, I might blend in” Williams raps on “‘Til the Songs Done,” but he’s wrong: this is one of the stand-out releases in the North Bay for 2013.—L.C.

Spends Quality, ‘Flight Music’

Spends Quality, the bearded, earnest-looking rapper behind CFO Recordings, is a happy guy. Flight Music is full of good vibes and counted blessings and even the one track that explores darker material, “Sad Day,” circles a line about positive thinking. His bio touts stages shared with Blackalicious and Lyrics Born, and the comparisons fit—this is a guy who probably doesn’t use the term “conscious” to mean “alive and breathing.” Still, like the rappers he emulates, SQ plays with enough wonky sounds and rhymes to subvert his own wide-eyed sincerity—there are tinny cruising beats reminiscent of Snoop’s L.A. (before he, too, became conscious) and cheesy sax strains that are pure Oakland all-night buffet. In his own words, “Spends Quality mixes soulfulness with intellect in a golden pimp cup.”—R.D.

John Courage and the Great Plains, ‘Gems’

Looking like a Georgia O’ Keeffe painting gone glam, the crystal-encrusted cow’s skull on the cover of Gems is a fitting symbol for a band in transition. On songs like “Feel Like the Only,” the three-piece—featuring John Courage (John Palmer) on guitar and vocals, Francesco Catania on bass and Dan Ford on drums—have left behind dark country music for a bass-driven rock sound that’s more Roxy Music than Lucinda Williams. “It’s Different” takes this new direction all the way to the bank with a deep, winding sax solo that can only be described as “smooth” (or, if you want to go by the band’s Facebook genre, “sad disco”). Gems, give or take a couple of inconsistent moments, only solidifies the group’s standing as one of the North Bay’s biggest talents.—L.C.

Che Prasad, ‘Shiva Me Timbers’

Don’t be misguided by this album’s cover art, which makes the thing look like a yoga class soundtrack or a DJ Cheb i Sabbah CD. Che Prasad is a San Anselmo–based songwriter and singer in the Americana tradition, evidenced by the opening track “Early Checkout,” a story about dusty parking lots, cheap hotels and life on the road. (“Another Show” continues this type of folklore.) The cover’s four-armed Shiva figure and quasi-Hindi script font likely nod to “Shadows from the East”—the album’s sitar-heavy centerpiece about Prasad’s American mother and Indian father—which contains an unexpected mid-song rap. Prasad’s got an off-kilter sense of humor, that’s for sure, and evokes John Prine’s goofier moments from time to time. He’s also able to alter his voice (see the straight-up Tom Waits impersonation of “Take Me to Confession”) and play just about any instrument.—G.M.

Velvet Waltz

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My friend Kevin tells me that Doug Martsch is the nicest guy in rock and roll, and I believe him. Previous casual conversations and email exchanges with the guy have confirmed this to be true. Doug Martsch is a sweetheart.

And a stoner.

Tonight I’m at Slim’s to interview Martsch, Built to Spill’s singer-songwriter-guitar god-beardy leader. I’m also here to see this guy I kind of dated, but by “dated” I mean we’ve rolled around on the shore of a lake and the floor of his apartment a couple times. And by “guy,” I mean he’s at least 30.

Kevin and I descend the stairs to the unventilated backstage where Doug and the rest of the band are engulfed in a thick cloud of some seriously killer Northern California weed—apparently, their show in Arcata proved fruitful. One of the band’s three guitarists goes all Snoop Dogg with the bong rips as Doug smiles, offers me beer and asks if we can do the interview later.

It’s weird to be almost 40 and backstage with Built to Spill. Almost 20 years ago, I listened to them with a slew of indie-loving dishwashers at Copperfield’s Cafe in downtown Santa Rosa; we’d flip the “closed” sign, lock the doors and blast There’s Nothing Wrong with Love while shouting about upcoming road trips and concerts over the rattle of the boombox. I’m much older now. I’m not wearing a miniskirt or fire engine red lipstick or any of the things that I used to wear backstage at concerts, and this is good, because I obviously don’t look like someone who is here to give blowjobs or handjobs or any other kind of “jobs.” Instead, I am a geek with my water bottle, notebook and recording device in hand, in my mom jeans and T-shirt.

At my midlife turning point, I’m not into smoking weed, either. I imagine the whole scene playing out before me—bongs and joints and bottles of whiskey being slowly passed around the small rooms and hallway with scraggly, long-haired dudes plucking at guitars—mirrors that of a low-budget Phish documentary.

“Doug might be too high to do the interview,” says Kevin, his eyes darting around the room as he fidgets with his wristband.

Kevin is naturally antsy (and about a million years sober), and as I look at him, I find myself staring at the collar of his shirt for an extended period of time. He looks kind of funny and I wonder if his chest feels all swirly and orange like mine does. I’m sweating now, and getting that weird stoned feeling I remember from my teens and 20s, a sensation of food woven through my teeth and paranoia that I’ve either started my period or peed myself a little.

Doug suggests we check out the opening band and glides up the stairs, disappearing into a sea of fans who are presumably too high to recognize him behind his fuzzy beard and half-closed eyes. Kevin and I head outside for fresh air, hoping the cool San Francisco evening will help us sober up from our unintended trip down 420 Lane. Suddenly, I remember the thirty-something waiting for me out in the crowd. Built to Spill goes on next and I realize, with the heavy weight of defeat and pot-fueled anxiety, that my interview opportunity has slipped by the wayside.

I find the thirty-something and kind of hope he’ll kiss me, but I’m worried about my cotton mouth and weed breath, even though I didn’t smoke pot on purpose. Everything feels so complicated. I don’t have earplugs and I’m afraid I’ll have permanent hearing loss from standing up here, so close to the stage, with this drunk thirty-something who keeps calling me a rock-‘n’-roll mom. I might be too old to be at a show on a school night, I think to myself. I need to get home and pack my kids’ lunches.

And then Kevin leaves, the thirty-something takes off without kissing me and I stand alone with a Bud Light as the band busts out a Blue Öyster Cult cover. Soon, they’re launching into a rendition of the Smiths’ “How Soon Is Now?” that morphs into a 20-minute jam session with the members of one of the opening bands dispersed throughout the room. I never knew how incredible long-ass guitar riffs could be—but then again, I never get as high as all my fellow audience members who, by the looks of things, are having their minds (and eardrums) completely blown. How is the band playing so flawlessly after all of those bong rips?!

Like a true jam-band aficionado, I get super into it, closing my eyes for a few moments in this sea of sweat and hair and bloodshot eyes, forgetting my age, the possibility that I may have peed in my mom jeans and the thirty-something that I’ve let slip away. Nothing matters but this moment. My kids can make their own damn lunches.

And I think, as the swirly chest syndrome takes it all in, Holy shit, holy shit, this is the best fucking concert in the world! And I realize that Built to Spill, after all of these years, have still totally got it. And maybe I’m just high, but fuck, dude,I think that maybe I’ve still got it, too.

The Dreaded Radius Clause

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Is it a bird? Is it a plane? Is it Godzilla? No, it’s a radius clause! Everybody run for your lives! Aggghhhh! They’re hideous—shield your eyes!

Though you may not hear these exact screams from North Bay music fans, that doesn’t mean they aren’t still wondering, “Why don’t any big name bands ever play in my town?” The answer isn’t very attractive. Radius clauses, those little devils, have been a controlling aspect of the talent-booking business for years, and are the main reason why most big-name bands performing at larger venues like the Fillmore, the Warfield and the Great American Music Hall in San Francisco don’t make the quick drive across the Golden Gate Bridge to play a show at one of the many worthy venues in our region the next night.

A radius clause is a promoter’s requirement in most booking contracts that a band may not perform geographically closer than 60 miles within a timeframe of 60 days before or after the promoter’s show. For example, when Gwar play the Regency Ballroom in San Francisco, the band is contractually barred by Regency promoters Goldenvoice from playing the Phoenix Theater in Petaluma one month before or after their San Francisco show. The goal is to get fans within a 60-mile radius to drive to the show, thus maximizing ticket sales for the San Francisco date.

Talent buyers in Marin, Sonoma and Napa counties have had to deal with radius clauses firsthand, and they’ll tell you that, overall, they lose out when it comes to booking big acts. Jim Agius of the Phoenix Theater says that most of the time he doesn’t even realize the business going down behind closed doors. “The majority of the time that it affects us,” he says, “we don’t even know about it, because in a lot of the national bookings that I do, the artists or the representatives are planning a routed tour. They’ll look at the map and be like, ‘All right, let’s go here, let’s go here, let’s go here.’ I believe that because of radius clauses, we just don’t get offered anywhere near what we otherwise would.”

The Phoenix Theater is not alone. Patrick Malone and Aaron Kayce, talent buyers for Sebastopol’s Hopmonk Tavern and Mill Valley’s Sweetwater Music Hall, respectively, have also felt the sting of being turned down as potential venues for big-name bands. For Kayce, radius clauses are simply a matter of business. “There are some artists that you could book 10 nights in the Bay Area, and they’d sell them all out because they’re that kind of artist,” he says. “But there are others that can’t support that. So at the end of the day, while it can be very frustrating for a talent buyer like myself, I do think it’s a necessary evil.”

Malone, though having occasional issues competing against San Francisco, notes that the restrictions affect him when bands play at competing local venues as well. “I generally will be bumped,” he says, “because whoever is booking and promoting that show doesn’t want that band to play within a certain period of time and within a certain mileage because they feel it could compromise and jeopardize their attendance.”

Though it seems as if the big city usually wins out against small-town venues, Malone offers a time-tested strategy in working against other talent buyers to secure big bands: “Be ahead of them and try to be quick, basically. When you have an opportunity, just strike fast and try to confirm and lock in dates as soon as possible.”

Though neither Malone or Kayce discuss specific occasions in which they have had difficulty booking in the past due to radius clauses, Agius offers examples. “We did AFI back in 2010, and they had been booked like a month prior to play Live 105’s ‘Not So Silent Night,'” he says. “We still got the show, but Live 105 organizers freaked out that AFI had this other show at a little 700-person place in Petaluma, and they made us wait until their show went on sale before we could announce our show,” Agius says.

Days after speaking on the phone, Agius received an email from the agent for a Southern California band that cited a radius clause for the band’s upcoming show at the Fillmore that blocks out two months of possible dates in Petaluma.

All three talent buyers understand that even though the restrictions often work against them when trying to book big-name bands at their venues, radius clauses still have their place in the business. But next time you look up at a venue’s marquee listing the acts who play there Friday night, don’t whine to the venue about all the bands you want to see come up from San Francisco. Take up your complaint with the big-city radius-clause profiteers. As they say, it’s the business.

Big Pimpin’

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With his new album, Magna Carta Holy Grail (what’s his next one gonna be called—Bill of Rights Ark of the Covenant?), Jay-Z invented a new movement, or at least a new hashtag, which is what movements have been reduced to these days. “#NewRules” was meant to draw attention to the pioneering ways in which one can disrupt the music industry, utilize new channels of information, engage fans on new platforms and sell a million of records in a single day.

Just one catch: you have to be Jay-Z.

Two catches, rather: you have to be Jay-Z and also you have to sign a deal with multinational conglomerate Samsung, who, spitting up a molecule-sized portion of their $247 billion in annual revenue, “bought” 1 million copies of Magna Carta Holy Grail in digital form to give away through a free app that Samsung users can download to their phone.

The RIAA, who is totally high, decided that this transaction constituted 1 million album sales. Boom! Magna Carta Holy Grail went platinum, all because a huge company spent $5 million out of its marketing budget to align with a rap superstar/walking Wall Street Journal stipple drawing.

That the RIAA decided these are legitimate sales is ludicrous, though not surprising, since most of the RIAA’s actions in the past 15 years have been ludicrous anyway. What’s downright insidious is what happened to users who downloaded the free app from Samsung in order to hear Magna Carta Holy Grail on their phone.

Forced to accept the app permissions, users were faced with a screen reading: “JAY Z Magna Carta needs access to: Storage, System Tools, Your Location, Network Communication, Phone Calls.”

Sound familiar? It should. If you wondered why Samsung only paid $5 per digital copy of Jay-Z’s album, you can add an extra bonus for Universal Records: being able to harvest Samsung users’ personal data—phone calls, location, usernames for social media accounts and, as demanded when the app opened, a login to Facebook and Twitter. That’s not a platinum album—it’s an NSA surveillance system.

In related news, Magna Carta Holy Grail is terrible and Jay-Z should have stopped rapping in 1999.

Gabe Meline is the editor of this paper.

Open Mic is a weekly op/ed feature in the Bohemian. We welcome your contribution. To have your topical essay of 350 words considered for publication, write op*****@******an.com.

Pursuit of Justice

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The California Domestic Workers Bill of Rights (AB 889) may have been vetoed by Gov. Brown last fall, but the battle to extend labor protections to all workers continues. In fact, a new form of the bill is currently making the rounds of the California State Legislature. The end of June saw AB 241, also called the California Domestic Workers Bill of Rights, passing through the Senate Labor Committee. The bill would mandate overtime pay, meal and rest breaks, uninterrupted sleep provisions (the right to eight hours of sleep for live-in workers), and use of kitchen facilities for food preparation.

Unlike the previous iteration, AB 241 does not cover IHSS or DDS workers, close family members of the employer or casual babysitters. The Women’s Action and Solidarity Alliance (ALMAS), out of the Graton Day Labor Center, has been deeply involved in organizing support for the bill. According to organizer Maureen Purtill, the group has “come together to achieve personal and collective goals, and in the pursuit of justice for all domestic workers.”

It’s a matter of fairness and equity, Esmeralda Montufar, a domestic worker in Sonoma County and member of ALMAS, told the Bohemian last year. “We’re not given vacation pay, and we’re not given workers’ compensation. As a bare minimum, we want protections on our work and as human beings.” The group holds a fundraiser on July 13 to help ALMAS continue its innovative work in establishing a voice for people who have been historically silenced in America. “Cleaning Up for Justice” happens on Saturday, July 13, at the Community Church of Christ of Sebastopol. 1000 Gravenstein Hwy. N., Sebastopol. Sliding scale, $10–$100. 12pm-3pm. 707.217.2367.

Beloved Monster

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Shrek, the animated Dreamworks movie, works on many levels at once, both celebrating and subverting our expectations of what a fairy tale—or an animated movie—is supposed to be.

The 2008 Broadway musical by playwright David Lindsay-Abaire (Fuddy Meers, Rabbit Hole) and composer Jeanine Tesori (Thoroughly Modern Millie) does something similar, serving up an aggressively entertaining spectacle that simultaneously celebrates and skewers modern theatrical conventions. One minute there’s an aching anthem to the thwarted dreams that define us all, and the next there’s a duet made up mainly of farting and burping. Somehow, it’s all charming and sweet—with a strong social message.

That’s the magic of Shrek: The Musical, now playing at Santa Rosa’s Summer Repertory Theatre. One wouldn’t think the beloved movie, about an ogre who falls for a princess, could adapt to the stage so cleanly. But Shrek: The Musical succeeds in much the same way that Shrek the movie succeeded—by stealing the very best ideas from Disney, and then making fun of everything else, all while presenting a story that honors diversity and encourages self-expression.

Crisply and warmly directed by James Newman (artistic director of the SRT program), Shrek fills the enormous Burbank Auditorium with an eye-pleasing army of singing dragons, trash-talking animals and tap-dancing rats. The story, as in the film, follows Shrek (a gruffly charming Joshua Downs), a solitary ogre who is less resigned to his life as an outcast than he claims to be.

After reluctantly agreeing to rescue the captive princess Fiona (an excellent Emma Sohlberg), Shrek teams up with a talking donkey (Nick Rashad Burroughs, delightful and energetic) to battle a sexy dragon (Lexi Lyric) and bring Fiona back to the foolish and diminutive Lord Farquaad (Scott Fuss, in a wonderfully over-the-top performance done entirely on his knees).

It is Farquaad’s tyrannical edict banishing all fantasy creatures that gives Shrek its underlying “Up with (Weird) People” energy, encapsulated in the rousing act-two pep rally song “Let Your Freak Flag Fly,” in which the outcast creatures reclaim their lost sense of self-worth.

Despite some muffled microphoning and some less-than-articulated voice work (resulting in the occasional lost line or lyric), this Shrek is a gem. Infectious and heartwarming, it’s a clear example of how social statements can be most effective when served up with style, grace, wit and melody—and a well-timed fart or two.

Rating (out of 5): ★★★★

Here Comes the Boom

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Some use plastic fruit baskets, some piece together rectangular bits of found materials like wood and photos, some make devices that create stars and some put bird boxes on the ceiling. “External Combustion,” the new exhibit at di Rosa, brings together sculptors with an unseen common thread. What these four sculptors share is a sense of place—they’re all from the Sacramento area.

With some steampunk influences here, a little abstract collage work there, it’s tough even to determine a “Northern California” style between them. But the artists’ home region was a major factor in the exhibit, says di Rosa public relations manager Stephanie King. “Di Rosa houses the foremost collection of contemporary Northern California art with nearly 2,000 works by 800 artists,” she says, adding that the preserve has always considered the Sacramento area part of Northern California.

When the former director of UC Davis’ Nelson Gallery, Renny Pritikin, was asked to curate an exhibit, he had at his fingertips an intimate knowledge of artists of the Sacramento area. He chose pieces by Nathan Cordero, Julia Couzens, Chris Daubert and Dave Lane to be featured in this exhibit, which resides in the Gatehouse Gallery.

“External Combustion” opens with a free reception Saturday, July 13, at di Rosa Preserve and runs through Sept. 22. 5200 Sonoma Hwy., Napa. Reception, 7–9pm. 707.226.5991.

Taco Jackpot

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Looking for a place to get a good taco in Rohnert Park? Pretty soon, the correct answer will include the word “casino.” After Federated Indians of Graton Rancheria chairman Greg Sarris championed the Roseland taqueria La Fondita, the other decision makers in the tribe were apparently impressed by the rich, authentic taste of the food, which began as a taco truck in 1996.

And how could they not be? Even without the word “delicious” printed in Spanish right on the side of the orange “Elenita” food truck adjacent to the brick-and-mortar restaurant on Sebastopol Road, it’s tough to argue that the food is anything but. Serving tamales, tacos, tortas, elotes and other Mexican specialties in a neighborhood that knows this kind of stuff, Delicias Elenita is the best taco truck in Sonoma County, and my editor says he doesn’t want to hear a peep out of anyone who disagrees. (It’s true.—Ed.)

The Reyes’ family’s new restaurant will be in the same food court with upscale restaurants by Martin Yan (who will be opening M.Y. China) and Cyrus’ Douglas Keane (opening a highfalutin chicken shack), as well as mid-priced options like Boathouse Sushi and an ice cream shop featuring Three Twins. You can’t win ’em all, though—there’s also gonna be a Starbucks.

The EU Doesn’t Like it Either

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It wasn’t insignificant that it was the Fourth of July when European Union Parliment convened and voted to suspend two agreements entered into after September 11, one that allows the U.S. Governement access to financial data including wire transfers, and another allowing access to travel data, not just flights booked but who is searching for what and to where.

And as it turns out it isn’t just the EU citizens that they are worried about. France is peeved that the U.S. is looking at diplomats as well, and called for an all-out suspension of American and EU trade talks until things are sorted out a bit.

The clincher for the U.S., though, seems to be the movement Restore the Fourth, where people are saying no to the government’s watch.

Happy Independence Day, America.

Top Tickets

The premise is a little unbelievable: free concerts of big-name bands in a mini amphitheater at a world-class brewery. What's the catch? There isn't one, says Laura Muckenhoupt, music specialist at Lagunitas. Last month saw Les Claypool's Duo de Twang playing a benefit for a fisherman at Lagunitas, and upcoming shows include the Sierra Leone Refugee All Stars, Charlie Musselwhite,...

North Bay Noise

Note: We get CDs aplenty sent to us here at the 'Bohemian,' which usually find their way into these pages throughout the year. This week, while no means a comprehensive coverage of every single local album we've received of late, we pull a sampling of the more recent ones that have shown up in our mailbox. Boo Radley's House, 'Eye...

Velvet Waltz

My friend Kevin tells me that Doug Martsch is the nicest guy in rock and roll, and I believe him. Previous casual conversations and email exchanges with the guy have confirmed this to be true. Doug Martsch is a sweetheart. And a stoner. Tonight I'm at Slim's to interview Martsch, Built to Spill's singer-songwriter-guitar god-beardy leader. I'm also here to see...

The Dreaded Radius Clause

Is it a bird? Is it a plane? Is it Godzilla? No, it's a radius clause! Everybody run for your lives! Aggghhhh! They're hideous—shield your eyes! Though you may not hear these exact screams from North Bay music fans, that doesn't mean they aren't still wondering, "Why don't any big name bands ever play in my town?" The answer isn't...

Big Pimpin’

With his new album, Magna Carta Holy Grail (what's his next one gonna be called—Bill of Rights Ark of the Covenant?), Jay-Z invented a new movement, or at least a new hashtag, which is what movements have been reduced to these days. "#NewRules" was meant to draw attention to the pioneering ways in which one can disrupt the music...

Pursuit of Justice

The California Domestic Workers Bill of Rights (AB 889) may have been vetoed by Gov. Brown last fall, but the battle to extend labor protections to all workers continues. In fact, a new form of the bill is currently making the rounds of the California State Legislature. The end of June saw AB 241, also called the California Domestic...

Beloved Monster

Shrek, the animated Dreamworks movie, works on many levels at once, both celebrating and subverting our expectations of what a fairy tale—or an animated movie—is supposed to be. The 2008 Broadway musical by playwright David Lindsay-Abaire (Fuddy Meers, Rabbit Hole) and composer Jeanine Tesori (Thoroughly Modern Millie) does something similar, serving up an aggressively entertaining spectacle that simultaneously celebrates and...

Here Comes the Boom

Some use plastic fruit baskets, some piece together rectangular bits of found materials like wood and photos, some make devices that create stars and some put bird boxes on the ceiling. "External Combustion," the new exhibit at di Rosa, brings together sculptors with an unseen common thread. What these four sculptors share is a sense of place—they're all from...

Taco Jackpot

Looking for a place to get a good taco in Rohnert Park? Pretty soon, the correct answer will include the word "casino." After Federated Indians of Graton Rancheria chairman Greg Sarris championed the Roseland taqueria La Fondita, the other decision makers in the tribe were apparently impressed by the rich, authentic taste of the food, which began as a...

The EU Doesn’t Like it Either

It wasn't insignificant that it was the Fourth of July when European Union Parliment convened and voted to suspend two agreements entered into after September 11, one that allows the U.S. Governement access to financial data including wire transfers, and another allowing access to travel data, not just flights booked but who is searching for what and to where. And...
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