After a  cane-yielding Pete Townshend and Roger Daltrey exited the Super Bowl stage with two other guys claiming to be members of The Who, one thing seemed evident: Janet Jackson’s nipple has forever altered the halftime show experience. Paul McCartney, The Rolling Stones, Tom Petty, Bruce Springsteen, and somehow, Prince have all performed since Jackson’s nipple made an unexpected appearance at Super Bowl XXXVIII. Now I wouldn’t consider any pre-or-post nipple performances “good” by any measure, but these recent halftime performers look like they would be a lot more comfortable in a Buick than anywhere near a stage.

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The stories are legendary. For example: “One time he came on stage in a space suit with a bucket of KFC and started throwing chicken at the crowd.” Another fable went, “He’s a pimp. No, literally he’s a pimp.” Last Tuesday in the Wow Hall basement between openers I heard a new myth, a first person account of a Kool Keith sighting at a Costco in LA, where he, Xzibit, and several hookers purchased some bulk goods. So no one really knew what to expect of Keith’s Eugene appearance, the first stop of his brief Cascadia tour with Foreign Objects.

For those unacquainted with him, Kool Keith is a man of many aliases. His better-known titles include Kool Keith, Dr. Octagon, Dr. Doom, and Black Elvis; his website lists more than fifty in all, though most were used only once or twice on isolated singles throughout his thirty year career.

He began in ’88 as a member of the New York old school crew Ultramagnetic MCs. He gradually established himself as a solo act, and in 1996 he released Dr. Octagonecologist, a psychedelic, futuristic collaboration with Dan the Automator; it was an instant hip-hop classic. A clever lyricist, Keith stands out starkly from the banal background of mainstream unoriginality. But don’t be mistaken; Kool Keith is not another politically poignant underground rapper who parades a vocabulary of multisyllabic words. His message is more often disturbingly raunchy than profound. He is difficult to pin down, a schizophrenic entertainer with as many personalities as monikers.

He mounted the Wow Hall’s modest stage wearing a sequins headscarf and wielding his microphone. His DJ cued a record from the Ultramagnetic MCs years, and Keith began to rattle off rhymes in a funky old-school pentameter.

In essence, the show was a chronological recap of the many chapters of Kool Keith’s career. After a five-minute spree of uninterrupted free styles (which bested the average written rap), Keith and his hype-men moved on to songs from the Dr. Octagon era. The crowd erupted with excitement for “Blue Flowers” and “Earth People,” two better-known singles off of Dr. Octagonecologist.

With his albums, the listener is able to turn a blind eye to Kool Keith’s less wholesome (i.e., degrading) lyrics. But when confronted with his living presence, one is forced to see the sheer crudity of his words. Aside from a few outliers, Kool Keith’s raps are only about sex. It is sometimes suggested that he means to satirize the misogyny of the mainstream. If so, then he’s doing a great job. Between songs, he asked, “How many ladies here like hotels?” The audience laughed nervously, unsure whether it was creepy or hilarious. He went on: “Who here is a freak? Are there any secret freaks? Ok, who here is a conservative freak? We’re looking for secret conservative confined freaks.” He eventually dropped the issue to play more raunchy songs released under his Dr. Doom alias.

After a satisfying survey of Kool Keith’s contributions to hip-hop, the show took a turn for the worse. For the last twenty minutes or so, Keith and his posse performed half-minute song segments, abruptly ending one and moving on to the next. They were attempting to cram the show’s tail end with as many songs as possible: it was quantity not quality. And it was annoying. Just when you settled into the groove of a beat, the record flipped, the tempo changed, and you had to readjust.

Despite ending on such an irritating note, the overall concert experience was a fascinating and enjoyable glimpse at who Kool Keith really is: a very strange man.

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            After birthing legendary indie shredders Monotonix, Israel offers the world yet another musical gift: Soulico, a crew of four Tel-Aviv DJs with an impressive library of rare Middle Eastern folk and disco vinyl. Last October they put forth their debut album, Exotic on the Speaker, an energetic amalgam of hip-hop, dancehall, and traditional Mid East music.

            Twelve of thirteen tracks feature MCs and singers from all over the world including scores of Israeli hip-hop artists; Panamanian dancehall maestro MC Zulu; Ghostface Killah; underground rappers Lyrics Born, Pigeon John, and Del the Funky Homosapien; and Rye Rye, M.I.A.’s streetwise teenaged protégé from Baltimore. Although almost half of the lyrics are in Hebrew, the language barrier isn’t much of a problem; “Pitom Banu 2020” hasn’t one word of English, yet it is easily one of the album’s most appealing songs.

            The first song, “El Nur,” commences with a shout of “Salaam alaikum” (peace unto you in Arabic), and then Ghostface Killah delivers a verse in his classic Wu Tang cadence. The overall thesis of his rap: I’m super tight, I’m hard, don’t fuck with me. It’s hubristic and unoriginal, yet charming as always. The beat that backs him consists of standard electronic drums, rapid pluckings of some foreign-sounding string instrument, and a loud, buzzy synth line. The rest of the song features Hebrew rapping and singing (no idea what they’re saying…but it sounds neat?). Each collaborator pulls his or her own weight, making the song fantastic as a whole.

            Unfortunately, some of Soulico’s musical guests are not so worthy. For example, on the eighth track titled “Come Back,” Onili, an Israeli pop diva, sings in a breathy, overly sexy voice. But it’s not sexy. It’s just frightening. She and a couple other featured artists whose performances add no value to the album ought not to have been included in the otherwise awesome debut project.

            But the most incredible song of all, and the most Israeli in sound, is the title track, “Exotic on the Speaker,” featuring Rye Rye. A cheap-sounding synthetic orchestra pounds thrice, a Klezmer fiddle sings a folky phrase, and a drum machine creates an intricately detailed beat. Rye Rye fills her two minutes and forty-three seconds with rhymes about nightclubs and parties in her sincere and youthful voice. Inclusion of Rye Rye on the album was surely a good call.

            But for their part, the DJs of Soulico (Sabbo, Rob, Shimmy Sonic, and Wido by name) mix and produce a superb album. Perhaps their greatest virtue is their transcendence of the confines of genre. “Queen of Hearts” is an ultra-catchy dancehall reggae song, “Politrix” could easily be a song off of Beck’s Midnight Vultures, and “DaraboukaTron” sounds like a bunch of robots on acid partaking in a tribal drum circle. They’re a dynamic team, Soulico, a talent that is exciting to hear regardless of your culture, homeland, or language.

Exotic On The Speaker (Feat. Rye Rye) MP3

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Pitchfork has released an article announcing that Andrew WK and one of my personal favorite hip-hop groups, People Under the Stairs, have collaborated and created a new variation of Danny Elfman’s Simpson’s theme song. It will air in the end credits on January 16th’s all new episode. Will you check it out? I know I will.

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Doug Martsch, Patron Saint of Rock

On November 15 Doug Martsch, in a brown rain jacket and a thinning mop of hair, climbed the WOW Hall stage with his Built To Spill band mates and dutifully setup shop sans roadies. “Christ,” I thought. “These guys are geezers!”

Initially, I questioned whether going to the concert would be the “right thing” to do. I had a major test the next afternoon and my conscience was saying DO NOT GO NO NO. But BTS is too hard to resist. I’ve been a fan for some time and I had never seen them live. Before I knew it, their familiar maestro guitar attack–that  I had recently forgotten– rocked the living daylights out of me. If the band is an apple of temptation, their genius is baring some badass fruit.

Martsch, who formed BTS in 1992, is surprisingly reserved onstage considering he is revered  as a founding father of indie rock. The Boise musician said little more than a feeble “Thanks” between their lengthy songs (which are that much longer live). It seems that for Martsch, the music comes first.

Guitarist Brett Netson did most of the crowd-schmoozing.

“This is dedicated to men who built WOW Hall..and to the people who throw rocks in the windows of corporations,” Netson exclaimed before the sheer force of BTS’ signature guitar echo, loops and feedback, essetnially  brought down the house.

(The name “Built To Spill” is definitely not a misnomer.)

Yet it was during “Strange” as Martsch’s plaintive voice whimpered, “yeah its strange but what’s so strange about that/ yeah its strange but what isn’t strange/ yeah its strange but oh well” that their anti-establishment vehemence felt most genuine and the results are absolutely mesmerizing.

Martsch so prolifically converts feelings into remarkably assured rock n’ roll, its no wonder he is considered one of the best guitarists in the business  today. He might resent the Rock God ascription, but well, that’s what he is.

Yes, in the midst of popping my “BTS Live” cherry, I became a born-again believer.

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We here at the Voice are more than pleased with the reinstatement. Since the cash-strapped athletic program could no doubt use some assistance —  and because we’re tired of renovating our office every year — we decided to spend some of our cash surplus on a gift that will no doubt make Blount’s transition a little smoother… 

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We’re filing for compensation currently. Have it be known that we originally called it “Rent-A-Puppy” but expanded to “Pooch” because we believe old dogs can do new tricks and deserve the chance to help with dating.

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Jimmy Carbonetti and Matt Iwanusa met Dave Skeinkopf and Joe Smith in high school. Dave and Joe were Jimmy and Matt’s teachers. The guys bonded over their love of music, a band was formed and so the story goes.

The non-conventional teacher-pupil collaboration has proved successful. Though high school was four years ago, the teachers and their whiz kids possess an endearing teen spirit that would make them one helluva—if not over-qualified—prom band. The aesthetic is easy to intuit, just think 60s British pop rock with tumbledown lyrics, bluesy riffs and soaring harmonies that festoon from mouth to ear. The sound is understated (à la The Kink’s Village Green Preservation Society) yet bulldozes when appropriate for a strummy, dramatic effect. Sure, if you have a guitar and some drums you’re destined to sound like someone else. And though they shy away from ingenuity with their textbook indie rock structure, the music builds upon a pre-“power ballad” era candor that is both minimal and revitalizing. A tribute to their formation, The Subject’s neoclassic pastiche recalls nostalgia for those simpler days of algebra exams and make out sessions under the bleachers.

I first met these dudes when they played at the Doug Fir in Portland last summer while touring with White Rabbits. The Subjects put on such an explosive opening act that I felt compelled to buy their first full-length album, With The Ease and Grace and Precision and Cleverness of Human Beings. I think it’s worth mentioning that I rarely buy full-length albums.

I reunited with the dudes at Sam Bond’s Garage on October 16 and I was pleasantly surprised by their latest tracks on the EP New Soft Shoe, which is reminscent of dance-hall London and a bit more accessible than their past stuff. I sat down with Jimmy and Dave. Like the last time we met, hearing anecdotes about touring the country in a van and what it’s like to party ‘til you puke reminded me The Subjects don’t just make rock n’ roll, they live it—and they won’t let you forget it.

Welcome back to Oregon. How’s the tour going?

J: Amazing.

Have you guys been on tour this entire time since I saw you last July?

J: We had a break. I went to Spain and back to Brooklyn. It’s snowing in New York.

No Way! Do you like snow?

J: Snow is great!

You mentioned early today you were going shopping. Did you get anything?

J: Dave got a stripped shirt. (Points to shirt)

That’s a nice shirt

D: Thanks

Do you remember where you got it?

D: Oak something. Near Willam…e…tay?

Williamette.

D: Ya

I forget that’s a hard word to pronounce. So lemme get this straight. You guys met in high school? But Dave, you were Jimmy’s teacher?

D: Jimmy was in my audiovisual class. We made a video called “Platinum Dreams”. It was about becoming karaoke stars. We had a good time making it and then the band kind of just formed.

I’m interested about group dynamics. What’s the music-making process like?

D: Matt and I write the songs. We rehearse in an old sewing machine warehouse in Manhattan. Matt’s mom played in a funk band. The guy who owns the building produced her album. He also produced The Yardbirds. We’re going to have a huge Halloween party there.

That’s funny. I just listened to “8 Miles High” before I came here. So do you have Halloween costumes?

J: No, not yet.

D: We’re picking up stuff in every city.

Love or hate life on the road?

D: Life on the road is better than working but we don’t get to see as much of the cities as we’d like to. We’re going to bring our bikes next time around. We have this system called “Captain and Co-Captain”. If you’re the Captain you can have one drink because you’re driving. If you’re co-captain, you have to appear relatively sober, but really you can drink a lot. The other two people, well, anything goes.

So what kinda crowds do you draw in places like Nebraska?

D: Nebraska was terrifying.

What did you guys do in Portland?

D: We went to Pita Pit and My Father’s Place

Did you play Big Buck Hunter?

D: Yep.

I’ve always wondered, is it possible to enjoy guitar hero if you’re already an accomplished musician?

J: It’s impossible to play guitar hero if you’re a musician.

So what’s next?

D: We’re heading down to the Treasure Island Music Festival tomorrow. We’re not playing but The Walkmen invited us to hang out.

Sounds like a party.

D: It will be.

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