On the Avenue

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It’s midday Friday, and Berry Salinas stands between an old used-car lot and a brake shop, inside the former Greyhound station that will soon house her new restaurant. “I think they’re gonna be seriously disappointed if they try to turn this into a bunch of kitschy shops,” she says, looking out onto Santa Rosa Avenue.

In May, Salinas will open Butcher & Cook, a self-described “chicken shack.” Butcher & Cook hits a number of current food trends: a comfort-food menu, a use of locally sourced ingredients and, after 10 weeks sharing space inside of Omelette Express, the transition from a pop-up restaurant to a permanent home.

But Butcher & Cook is also inadvertently a part of a larger trend: food’s ability to transform neighborhoods.

This is the South A neighborhood near Juilliard Park, an area that, according to annual trend stories in local media, has been in a perpetual state of “revitalization” for the last 10 years. Most of that focus has been on the arts, and on the small neighborhood’s galleries, theater companies and artist studios.

Yet while “This Is the Arts District” was the area’s rallying cry five years ago, it’s food that has finally begun to bring more people to the under-utilized neighborhood.

Late last year, the much-buzzed about Spinster Sisters opened to great fanfare. Soon after, Worth Our Weight’s Evelyn Cheatham bought the Cookhouse, a landmark greasy-spoon, and is in the process of reopening it as a restaurant. This year, Criminal Baking Co. opened to a healthy buzz, and across the busy street, Dierk’s Parkside Cafe, one of the city’s most popular breakfast spots, always has crowds of people waiting outside for a table. (Dierk’s has been so successful, in fact, that owner Mark Dierkhising is opening a second location on Fourth Street across from Superburger in the coming months.)

Next to the foodie-approved Taqueria Las Palmas, Salinas will open a place with the kind of word-of-mouth that all but guarantees the restaurant’s success. A resulting infusion of new interest in the neighborhood as a food destination is inevitable; proponents of South A have witnessed that same effect magnified with what’s happened to Valencia Street in San Francisco’s Mission district, and taken note.

A new buzzword has even cropped up for the area: the “Gourmet Ghetto.”

Salinas is a little more realistic. “I don’t really like that term very much,” she says. The 35-year-old Sebastopol farmer also wants to shield Santa Rosa Avenue from inorganic “rebirth.” She’ll serve down-home food: fried chicken, mashed potatoes, coleslaw, collard greens and rotating specials of pork belly and fish ‘n’ chips. Most plates will be around $10.

“There’s a lot of food in Sonoma County,” she says inside the small, 12-by-12-foot dining room, “but there’s not a lot of this kind of shack-eating element that you see in metropolitan areas—like in San Francisco, there are these hole-in-the-wall eating establishments. I always prefer that surprise element, of feeling like you’re discovering something, and I feel like that’s missing here.”

Soon, Judy Kennedy walks by. “I’m so glad you’re moving in here!” she says to Salinas. Kennedy, a longtime neighborhood advocate well-known at city meetings, has for years been trying to ensure the region’s walkability and desirability, and new restaurants, she says, can assist in the “positive experience” that helps push out unwanted nighttime activity.

“There’s one thing that we’re really working on right now, and that’s the prostitution problem,” Kennedy says. “The pimps and their prostitutes stay at the Economy Inn, and the girls, they’re not bringing their clients to the hotels. They’re walking the streets and then going in the neighborhoods, in the car, and doing it. We find condoms in front of our house all the time.”

Down the street, on the curb across from the Spinster Sisters’ lunchtime rush, Jeremiah Flynn and Maria Villano sit in the sun outside Jeremiah’s Photo Corner, one of a handful of retail shops in the neighborhood. Flynn says there’s been no “big boom” in business, but agrees that Spinster Sisters has brought in a whole new crop of visitors. “I have people coming in saying, ‘I had no idea this neighborhood was here.’ I hear that every day,” he says.

“We’ll see how it pans out,” Flynn adds stoically. “It’s like this ‘rebirth,’ again.”

Raissa de la Rosa, who, with Santa Rosa’s Department of Economic Development and Housing, has worked with a number of businesses in the area, agrees. “People get food,” she says. “They don’t always get art.”

A former resident of Oakland’s Temescal district, de la Rosa knows firsthand how restaurants can drive a neighborhood’s renewal, and thinks it can happen with South A Street and Santa Rosa Avenue as well. “There’s more of an impetus for people coming out of the businesses downtown, and, on a beautiful day, walk to those restaurants,” she says. “It’s going to take time, but I think restaurants can do that way more then, say, a gallery would.”

De la Rosa pauses and makes an important point: “I also don’t think the restaurants would be interested in the area,” she says, “if the galleries weren’t there.”

One thing is sure: the neighborhood has a vibe. That suits Salinas perfectly. Before her shared-space run at Omelette Express, she hosted one-off underground dinners and other hush-hush events. Her other business, Meat Revolution, makes sausage, bacon and charcuterie; she delivers to restaurants all over the Bay Area and has a meat CSA.

As for the so-called undesirable element? “I’m not opposed to something being done, but I hope it’s more in that creative vein, where it’s quirky and offbeat,” she says, “and not trying to make it downtown Healdsburg.”

Out of the Shadows

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When Jeff Mangum steps out on to the stage of the Phoenix Theater on April 9, it won’t just be another show for the history books. It’ll also be a minor miracle.

That’s because for years, Mangum, frontman and genius behind the universally revered band Neutral Milk Hotel, seemed to disappear almost entirely. He stopped making music. His label, Merge Records, dutifully denied requests for interviews. Rumors swirled of his alleged mental problems, his presumed agoraphobia, even his possible death.

Over this 10-year span, Neutral Milk Hotel’s 1997 masterpiece In the Aeroplane Over the Sea, at first a cult record, enjoyed exponentially increasing sales and turned into a signpost for a new generation. With the instrumentation of Love’s Forever Changes and the lyrical density of Dylan’s Blonde on Blonde, and using the story of Anne Frank as a rough thematic guide, the album routinely shows up on top-selling vinyl lists, on “most influential albums of all time” lists, on “Best Albums of the 1990s” lists.

What did Mangum do to promote it upon its release? After a modest tour, Mangum, feeling the mounting pressure of fame, faded away. For a long time, all anyone knew was that he’d gone overseas and captured field recordings of native folk music in Bulgaria. It only added to the mystique.

Mangum’s is the type of story that Searching for Sugarman–style filmmakers salivate over, that rock journalists love, that fans frustratingly try to comprehend. Then, in 2008, it was almost as if the pressure of being a mythic reclusive became greater than the pressures of fame. Mangum started performing as a guest musician for other bands. Finally, at a show in Kentucky, he led the audience outside the venue, down the street to a nearby field and, with some former Neutral Milk Hotel members, played In the Aeroplane‘s “The Fool,” outside in the nighttime air. It was the first Neutral Milk Hotel performance in 10 years.

Over the next few years, Mangum popped up more often—at other bands’ shows, at benefits for sick friends and, most famously, at the Occupy Wall Street protests in Zuccotti Park. Slowly, he began touring, but remained wary of the attention. At a show in Oakland last year, he walked onto the stage and silently motioned for people to put down their cameras and phones; amazingly, they complied.

Three things can be expected of Mangum’s show in Petaluma. One, tickets will go quickly. Two, people will sing along, loudly. But mostly, Mangum will dazzle the faithful who spent 10 years believing.

Damn You, Digital

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You may have never seen a movie at the Rio Theater, but chances are you’ve driven by it: it’s the WWII-era Quonset hut just past the “Vacation Wonderland” sign in the town of Monte Rio.

Inside, the quaint one-screen is refreshingly removed from the moviegoing experience at large megaplexes. With its hand-picked music, personalized slides, and fabric from Christo’s fence hanging from the ceiling, it’s become a beloved staple of the West County community. And it needs the community’s help.

As we’ve covered in these pages before, the big studios will soon stop shipping movies to theaters on 35mm film, forcing movie theaters to convert to digital projection or else screen Phat Beach on infinite repeat. To stay alive, the Rio Theater needs to go digital. This is no major problem for chains like Cinemark and Regency, but financially, it’s a hell of an obstacle for small exhibitors like the Rio.

Along with a Kickstarter campaign, this weekend, the Rio hosts a “Save the Rio” mixer and movie with libations and nosh before a screening of the camp classic The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. Proceeds go to purchasing a damned digital projector, sadly required nowadays, when the music of drag shows fills the room on Sunday, March 10, at the Rio Theater. 20396 Bohemian Hwy., Monte Rio. 1pm. $25. 707.865.0913.

Clunky but True

I agree with everything Greedy Lying Bastards says, yet fans of the H. L. Mencken–style tirade will be unfulfilled.

Director Craig Scott Rosebraugh puts a human face on global warming through interviews with those who lost their homes in the Colorado firestorms, as well as citizens of sinking islands from the Arctic to the South Pacific. As a de facto follow-up to An Inconvenient Truth, it charts the well-paid backlash against greenhouse-gas limits, mostly funded by ExxonMobil and our old chums the Koch brothers, thus the millions to fund alleged think tanks and preposterously named AstroTurf organizations—wretched PR whores, busily exchanging tomorrow’s shame for today’s paycheck.

The graphics, slicker than deer guts on a brass doorknob, show serpentine lines of connection between institutes, mega-corporations and the U.S. government. Cutouts of the offenders spring up with a sound-effects—boing! There is also the token scene that needs exiling from all political documentaries immediately: the director trying to get some villain of a CEO on the phone and making a crying-clown face as the receptionist tells him to go away.

The biggest take-away is the problem of what Rosebraugh calls “assertion”: it takes a far shorter time to state a lie than it does to correct it. Considering that the bill for human recklessness is already coming due, there is something criminal in the smooth-faced ignoramuses (usually the same five or six nonscientists) blaming climate change on volcanoes. You feel the frustration of Congressman Henry Waxman trying to fight not just paid liars, but also his fellow legislators. As it was once said of the Ohio Legislature, the oil companies have done everything to Congress but refine it.

There were 31.6 billion tons of CO2 released in 2011, and meanwhile “experts” add to the grim total, jetting from studio to studio to lie the truth out of school. The film does good work reminding us of who these people are, anyway.

‘Greedy Lying Bastards’ opens Friday, March 8, at the Century Regency 6, 280 Smith Ranch Road, San Rafael. 415.479.6496.

Oops…

mankato.jpg

A newsroom typically has a few people look over a printed proof page before it’s sent to the printer. This is used to check for copyediting errors, headline typos and layout mistakes. It’s hard to imagine how this one got past everyone at the Mankato Free Press in Minnesota.

As is unfortunately the case, the “G” of grapefruit in this headline was cleverly substituted for a slice of the fruit, which was woefully inadequate. What you see was actually printed and distributed in today’s edition of that paper. The story’s gone viral, but there has yet to be an official response from the paper. Maybe it will come in an editorial in the next issue.

I know newspapers aren’t perfect—I’ve made my share of egregious typos and headline mistakes—but never have I had an idea this asinine translate to a printed page, let alone an actual printed newspaper. Aspiring layout designers and copyeditors are welcome to apply in Mankato, they’re probably hiring.

Neutral Milk Hotel’s Jeff Mangum to Play Phoenix Theater

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It’s official: Jeff Mangum, frontman and musical genius behind the band Neutral Milk Hotel, will play the Phoenix Theater in Petaluma on Tuesday, April 9.
Tickets, $30 each, go on sale Wednesday, March 6, at noon. They’ll be available at the Last Record Store in Santa Rosa—cash only, but only a $1 service charge—and through the Phoenix Theater’s site.
Mangum, a famously reclusive figure for a decade after releasing the landmark album In the Aeroplane Over the Sea, has slowly re-emerged and performed live over the last few years. (We reviewed his show at the Fox Theater in Oakland here.) In the Aeroplane still manages to hover near the top of most “Best Albums of the 1990s” lists, and shows no sign of slowing in terms of influence and scope.
This is another show for the history books at the Phoenix Theater, which has of late hosted instant-sellout shows with Snoop Dogg and Animal Collective. (And don’t forget Hanson, which had teenage girls camping outside the Phoenix Theater for two days before the show.) My guess is tickets will sell quickly for this one, too.
Luckily, as evidenced by his recent shows, Jeff Mangum plays well-arranged setlists of classic material, and still has that same reedy, hypnotizing voice. Get ready, folks.

Live Review: Fuzz at the Knockout, San Francisco

Fuzz at the Knockout, SF

“Wow, this sounds a lot like Black Sabbath” was the first thought that popped into my head last night at the Fuzz show in San Francisco. “These long haired dudes kinda look like Black Sabbath, too,” I thought. “But that drummer isn’t hiding behind two bass drums and only has two cymbals. And there’s no singer. This is really, really great! I never liked Ozzy’s voice, and these guys sound like a way bigger band than just a three-piece.” But all these great conversation starters were wasted on my own mind, however, because Ty Segall’s latest musical venture was so damn loud nobody in the Knockout would have heard a stampede of elephants running down Mission Street.
Despite what it sounded like, there was only one guitarist, Charles Moothart. Segall is really the one known for cranking out the rockingest rock with his incredible his guitar tones, but here he’s on drums. More on that later. Moothart’s appropriately fuzzy guitar was fat, so fat, in fact, that it shook my ribcage. Maybe it was a warning, like by body was saying, This Is Almost Too Much Rock, Be Careful. His solos were tasty, like hot jam dripping off a shortbread biscuit tasty. And then there was the hair–so much hair, it was everywhere.
Now Segall, who is a guitarist in something like three other bands, might be on the hook for battery if those drums decide to press charges. He beat them like they owed him money, like they insulted his mother, like they keyed his 1967 Mustang. His ferocity did not dimish the speed of the band’s last song, which kept a blistering pace for four times longer than most punk songs. Not only this, but he sang for some of the songs, most of which were new and will probably have lyrics soon.
The crowd at this Noisepop show may have been a little too hip for its own good. The feeling on the tiny dance floor was that familiar precipice of moshing, where either age, vanity or self consciousness kept people from truly smashing into each other like idiots. Instead, a couple of buzzed dudes in gingham shirts sort of pushed each other around a little, eliciting nervous smiles from the wary crowd around them. In a different setting, this would be the ultimate circle pit band.
Co-headling was OGB III, who took the stage after Fuzz. This band was delicious, filled with ooey-gooey cheese and mushy, fatty pork. Slathered in curtido and spicy salsa, they were too hot at first, but soon went down smooth with a cold Mexican beer. No, wait, that was the pupusas at Los Panchos. No offense to OGB III, but nothing was going to top what we had just seen and heard, and we wanted to leave on the highest note possible.
On a side note, local group Blasted Canyons opened, and were pissed off the whole time about, among other things, their monitor mix. Their playing reflected this attitude it in a bad way. But on the plus side, they did have an Oberheim synthesizer, which is high on the list of things that make really cool sounds. The Knockout is a great bar, with plenty of character and a decent dance floor and stage. It’s too loud and really small, which usually makes every show better. This night was no exception.

Photos: Tattoos and Blues

The Tattoos & Blues Festival was held at the Flamingo Resort Hotel February 24, 2013. See our photos from the ink- and needle-laden day by clicking on the slideshow below!

Extended Play: Early Adopters

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Our news story this week is about a local family that adopted two toddlers from the Democratic Republic of Congo, or DRC.

The DRCs flag.

  • The DRC’s flag.

It’s a story with a hopeful ending for those two children set in the midst of a tragedy that many people know nothing about.
As we explain in the piece:

“Since 1998, the DRC has been the sight of massacre and sexual violence so overwhelming that the few writers covering it tend toward comparison rather than digits. Incited by the same militant refugee group responsible for the Rwandan genocide, the First Congo War—sometimes called the African World War—involved nine countries, twenty armed factions and has claimed the lives of roughly 5.4 million people. A 2006 report commissioned by the UN relief effort UNICEF puts it like this: “[E]very six months, the burden of death from conflict in the DRC is similar to the toll exacted by the 2004 Indian Ocean tsunami.”
Though the exact number of rape victims in this bloody travesty is unknown, the report estimates them to be in the hundreds of thousands. “Sexual violence is consciously deployed as a weapon of war,” it states. Abortions are punishable by imprisonment, and yet women and girls who are raped and become pregnant often become social pariahs, rejected by even their families, according to the document.”

The UNICEF report concludes that global news doesn’t tend to follow this terrible epilogue to the Rwandan Genocide for some reason, perhaps its long history, the country’s deep poverty and the aura of hopelessness that hangs over it all.
If you want to find out more about the situation in DRC, here are some resources.

See the BBC’s coverage here.
The country’s profile on Human Rights Watch.
The county’r profile on International Crisis Group.
The UNICEF report we quote from in the piece, written by BBC War Correspondent Martin Bell.

March 5: Barbara Dana at Copperfield’s Books

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dana.jpg

Lock up your daughters—Emily Dickinson is alive! Well, no, not really. She is still dead. But Barbara Dana, author of A Voice of Her Own: Becoming Emily Dickinson, is doing her best to resurrect the famed poet. Dana is an expert on all things Dickinson, and brings the pride of Amherst, Mass. back to life by dressing up as the famous poet and sharing the knowledge and insight she’s acquired over the years of writing about and portraying Dickinson on stage. Come and meet Emily/Barbara on Tuesday, March 5, at Copperfield’s Books. 140 Kentucky St., Petaluma. 7pm. 707.762.0563.

On the Avenue

On South A Street and Santa Rosa Avenue, a new focus on restaurants as neighborhood activators

Out of the Shadows

When Jeff Mangum steps out on to the stage of the Phoenix Theater on April 9, it won't just be another show for the history books. It'll also be a minor miracle. That's because for years, Mangum, frontman and genius behind the universally revered band Neutral Milk Hotel, seemed to disappear almost entirely. He stopped making music. His label, Merge...

Damn You, Digital

They can't close the Rio Theater, can they?

Clunky but True

'Greedy Lying Bastards' still an important documentary on climate change

Oops…

Newspapers make mistakes, too. Just not usually like this.

Neutral Milk Hotel’s Jeff Mangum to Play Phoenix Theater

It's official: Jeff Mangum, frontman and musical genius behind the band Neutral Milk Hotel, will play the Phoenix Theater in Petaluma on Tuesday, April 9. Tickets, $30 each, go on sale Wednesday, March 6, at noon. They'll be available at the Last Record Store in Santa Rosa—cash only, but only a $1 service charge—and through the Phoenix Theater's site. Mangum, a...

Live Review: Fuzz at the Knockout, San Francisco

“Wow, this sounds a lot like Black Sabbath” was the first thought that popped into my head last night at the Fuzz show in San Francisco. “These long haired dudes kinda look like Black Sabbath, too,” I thought. “But that drummer isn’t hiding behind two bass drums and only has two cymbals. And there’s no singer. This is really,...

Photos: Tattoos and Blues

Photos from the Tattoos and Blues Festival on Feb. 24, 2013

Extended Play: Early Adopters

Our news story this week is about a local family that adopted two toddlers from the Democratic Republic of Congo, or DRC. The DRC's flag. It's a story with a hopeful ending for those two children set in the midst of a tragedy that many people know nothing about. As we explain in the piece: "Since 1998, the DRC has...

March 5: Barbara Dana at Copperfield’s Books

Lock up your daughters—Emily Dickinson is alive! Well, no, not really. She is still dead. But Barbara Dana, author of A Voice of Her Own: Becoming Emily Dickinson, is doing her best to resurrect the famed poet. Dana is an expert on all things Dickinson, and brings the pride of Amherst, Mass. back to life by dressing up as...
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