UPDATE:
Punk Rock Sideshow will be hosting a benefit for Roisin and her family on July 16th. at 7pm. Hemlock Tavern. The cover will be $5 or more donation
We're still working out the details but so far The Departed will be playing with a couple of other local all girls bands. Her father will also be there(apparently he's an old punk himself)!
We're also getting a lot of amazing prize donations to raffle off.
We'll keep you posted when things get more finalized. Until then, spread the word.
Circulating:
SF -- were you at Dolores Park last night? HELP OUT!!
Roisin Isner, drummer for the San Francisco band Tinkture lost her hand in Dolores Park last night watching the fireworks. Her dad sent the email below to some local media outlets...
Subject: Roisin Isner, Tinkture drummer
Hello,
I am Roisin's father. July 4th, Roisin and friends were in Dolores Park watching fireworks. Some stupid piece of shit threw an M60 at them. It landed on Roisin's right hand and blew it apart. She will undego surgery later this morning but it doesn't look good. Most likely she will lose her index finger; second and third fingers will also be permanently impaired and disfigured. Needless to say, her musical career is over.
I want this fucker. Media attention will help flush him out. People know who did it and I'm offering $20,000 for a name. Please do whatever is necessary to get the story out. Do so and I will reward you as well.
Thank you,
Chris Isner
chrisisner@hotmail.com
Related: Teen drummer injured by fireworks in S.F.'s Dolores Park
(Photo by Scott van Velsor)
Luggage Store Gallery New Music Series
July 5th, 2007
Luggage Store Gallery
Better Than: Putting your head into a stream of super fluid hydrogen atoms.
Download: Dave Smolen, Cars Will Burn, Mincemeat or Tenspeed
Scramble your brain and make a fried egg sandwich this music will tingle your very atomic structure by rattling the bat cave in your mind with a fully automatic shotgun.
Harsh noise performances can be called cathartic or damaging, depending on your perspective. Last night, three sonic technicians from Philadelphia put on some fantastic examples of avant-garde electronic exploitation.
Dave Smolen kicked off the show in torn Levi’s and a wolverine grin. Notching a switch on the table in front of him he immediately pumped the twenty strong audience with torn industrial noise found in the animated dream sequences of 80s heavy metal cult cartoons. Wasteland lies before us and nothing but the sonic scream that is this desert of sound is worth paying attention to.
One of the most anticipated albums of the year, Interpol's Our Love To Admire, goes on sale July 10. The All Shook Down micro-review: Not bad at all. It's slower, but very much classic Interpol. Fans will like it and the single "The Heinrich Maneuver" will draw in new ones.
Art openings rarely happen on Sundays, and if it takes a swanky little Mission hair salon on unassuming Shotwell to pull one off, so be it. Wendy Kirsten and Anthony Lymon's Ginger Rubio, which had a fine grand opening for both Rene Garcia Jr.'s stellar glitter paintings and the salon itself in May, now ushers in local artist Tim Gates, who plants meditative, dark-eyed figures in enigmatic paintings that bear the weight and mystery of sacred icon art (it is Sunday, after all). The opening starts at 6 p.m. at Ginger Rubio, 600 Shotwell St. (at 20th). --Michael Leaverton
Better Than: Going to a reggae club where the featured artist is a no-show.
So much for the post-July 4th let-down. If anyone was feeling the ill after-effects of Independence Day, it didn’t show at the Angel Magik sixth anniversary bash at Ruby Skye. An enthusiastic, overly energetic crowd of dancehall reggae revelers packed the venue – more typically known for techno and house DJs – and got irie until the wee hours of the morn. There was no waiting to exhale, although some folks waited until security’s back was turned to inhale, if you catch my drift. There was, however, some apprehension over whether the announced headliner, Jamaican roots revivalist Capleton, would be a no-show.
No worries at all, mon, as it turned out.
Band of Horses
July 5, 2007
Great American Music Hall
Better Than: The “gnarliest song ever, but also the awesomest song ever,” to quote one very passionate fan shrieking near me.
If you think music fans only get quieter as they get older, you’re wrong. Yelling out song requests, punching the air, and singing along loudly with your eyes pinched tight doesn’t necessarily wear off once you’ve left your teens. At last night’s sold-out Band of Horses show, for example, the “backup singers” I heard were literally in the back of the club, grown-ups who were so ecstatic at hearing, say, “Monsters,” that they proudly lent their voices in song. It’s the kind of enthusiasm I’ve seen a couple times at indie rock shows at Great American – when Arcade Fire first played there years back, for example – and it transforms the room into a sort of “you’re either with us or against us” vibe. Although “against us” isn’t even that hostile. Those who don’t get it -- for example, my friend Scott, who couldn’t get past the similarities between Band of Horses and “Jeremy Enigk’s the Fire Theft,” -- just stood there kinda confused. Personally, I was on the “with us,” side, standing smitten as the group gave life to tracks like “The Great Salt Lake.” But my happiness didn’t hit the rapture that consumed one superfan nearby. When Ben Bridwell launched into the opening lines of “The Funeral,” she grabbed her boyfriend and shrieked, “Oh! My! Fucking! God!” like Justin Timberlake had just beamed down on a giant disco ball. I guess these Horses guys are gonna stay pretty big.
Melt Banana, 9 at The Independent. $15.
“Those worrying that Melt Banana have gone soft should relax their apprehension – they’ve kept the ear-splitting noisier-than-thou guitar interruptions, the strange electronic interludes and the breakneck-speed rhythmic irruptions. But they’ve made more use of melody, and Yasuko Onuki’s vocals – although still indecipherable – sound even more like those of a high-school cheerleader. 'Blank Page Of The Blind' is the album’s highlight, in part due to Ichirou Agata’s ear-piercing guitar solo that carries the power of 1,000 exploding stars. It’s a potent reminder of why he’s been described as one of the best guitarists in the world, i.e. because he is.” -- Drowned in Sound
New Edition, 8 at Paramount Theatre. $39.50-Too much for Bobby & Whitney’s blow fund.
“A New Edition album delivers a world full of innocent joy, breathless adoration of girls, sweet disappointments with romance and unbounded sexual energy. The new one's full of great tunes, from slow ballads like the sexy "Whispers in Bed" to the high-spirited liftoff of the Jacksons-like "All for Love." The sound – sophisticated synths and modern machine drumming – is cool, but the voices are warm and spirited. For a record that features the work of four different production teams, there's a surprising consistency of feeling. That's because the group's personality is so well defined.” -- Rolling Stone
The Wearies, 8 at Red Devil Lounge. $10.
“There comes a time when rock music is re-born. This is one of those times.” -- MySpace
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