Madi Diaz & Jack Van Cleaf Live Show Review: 3/6, Lincoln Hall, Chicago
Madi Diaz
BY JORDAN MAINZER
"I've got these purple shoes--they're very cool," Madi Diaz shared Wednesday night at Lincoln Hall as she tuned her guitar. Someone in the audience replied, "Tell us more!" Diaz didn't hear them, but the crowd member's response was apropos of Diaz's open-book nature as a songwriter and performer. Over her past two albums, 2021's History of a Feeling and last month's Weird Faith (Anti-), through her unflinching honesty, Diaz has created a solidarity of self-expression, anthems out of moments and feelings we might otherwise be ashamed of (loneliness, crying in public). She's put to song the peaks and valleys and beginnings and ends of relationships with others and herself, the non-linear nature of realizing that she loves, hates, feels a burning desire, and in turn deserves to feel it all. Turns out, a lot of other folks have had experiences similar to hers, making it easy for them to sing Diaz's words back to her and feel a palpable connection.
Diaz
Diaz walked out to Cass Elliot's "Make Your Own Kind of Music", a fitting sentiment to introduce a show in which she laid bare her vulnerability and created an atmosphere for others to do the same. Truth be told, she knows how to start a song, an album, and a set; "Same Risk" confronts a love interest about a level emotional playing field. "What the fuck do you want? Cause I'll give you all that I got," she sings on the Weird Faith and set opener, each subsequent line one-upping the prior in terms of frankness, culminating with the question, "Do you think this could ruin your life?" and the admission, "Cause I could see it ruining mine." Though the album version has the proper canyons of space to give room for Diaz's heavy confessions, the live version was comparatively stripped-down. On stage, Diaz played guitar and sang alongside multi-instrumentalist Adam Popick, who played drums and synthesizer, sometimes simultaneously. Though Diaz's lyrics are often diaristic, conversational, and clear, that they were less obscured by instrumentation as on the album made them all the more in-your-face. As such, a song like upbeat strummer "Everything Almost", wherein she wonders whether she's doing and saying the right things in a burgeoning relationship (and she's even doing the wondering out loud, in real time) is borderline like watching theater: At one moment, she cracks up at the thought of being a needy pregnant partner, and at the next, cowers at the idea that her parents might not be around to meet their grandchild.
Diaz
Diaz's unbridled outpouring can be jarring, but it's undoubtedly powerful. On Wednesday, huge-sounding songs like "For Months Now", "KFM", and "Resentment" transformed into intimate singalongs. "Hurting You", performed solo on acoustic guitar, became an even more hushed ode to picking yourself back up after a heartbreak, learning how to move on from grief. And though Kacey Musgraves didn't show up to duet "Don't Do Me Good", the crowd's belting of the all-timer country chorus was as stubborn as the song's protagonist herself.
If Diaz has grown as a songwriter over time and as she's penned for pop and country stars, it's clear that her time opening for the likes of Waxahatchee, Angel Olsen, and Harry Styles has allowed her to understand that, when performing, just because a space is big doesn't mean it always needs to be filled. The subject matter of her songs could be constantly cried out, but she belted only for maximum impact, contrasting the dulled tom thuds on "Get to Know Me", or holding a single note on "Crying in Public". For the most part, her vocal delivery was subtle, especially when she harmonized with Popick on "Girlfriend" and delved into fatalistic tricks on the unreleased "Worst Case Scenario", a song that tests her "theory of imagining the worst possible thing happening" so that it won't happen, or "expecting nothing and then being pleasantly surprised." At one point, on "Worst Case Scenario", she exclaimed, off-beat, "I'm gonna think of it!" over chugging drums and barn-burning riffs, recalling the tossed-off singing of Jason Molina.
Adam Popick and Diaz
Where Diaz finds ultimate peace is not in fatalism or nihilism but a sort of existentialism. She spends a lot of Weird Faith looking for meaning in giving your all to someone, and even weather patterns. But on "Kiss the Wall", she proclaims, "Nothin' is a waste of time," connecting the most boring moments when we're waiting in line for something to one's own legacy, perceiving that we all make tiny changes to earth. During her encore, Diaz said she didn't believe a mere two years ago that she could spend time on stage singing about such a raw period in her life. As she wrote Weird Faith "on the backs of mantras," she started to believe in herself. It's clear, now, that one of those mantras is that every moment carries weight. She ended the night performing the title track on acoustic guitar, visibly emotional as she left the stage. As the house lights went up, we were graced by none other than Limp Bizkit's cacophonous cover of George Michael's "Faith", a reminder that even the cruelest of jokes can be earnest expressions of the universe's necessary chaos.
Jack Van Cleaf
Opening was Nashville-via-Chicago songwriter Jack Van Cleaf, an acoustic guitar picker whose songs and performances, like Diaz's contain heart-to-heart chatter. Lines like, "Love is like a rattlesnake / Before it bites, it tries to warn ya," from "Rattlesnake" were perfect bedfellows to Diaz's "Same Risk". And perhaps it was a mix of Van Cleaf fans and Diaz fans attuned to storytelling, but I was wowed by the audience's reaction to his songs as much as the songs themselves. On the unreleased "Using You"--which employs drug metaphors to explore how people use each other for attention during a relationship--the audience reacted with every lyrical twist and turn, despite likely never before having heard the song. After performing it, Van Cleaf asked those taking videos to tag him on Instagram, not for clout, but so he could watch it and fine-tune the song. Yes, such symbiosis carried seamlessly into Diaz's set, but for Van Cleaf in a vacuum, it's easy to see how another unreleased song like "Piñata" came to be given his appetite for feedback. It wasn't just the words themselves but the way he delivered the line, "I'm full of sugar / I'm full of niceties / I'm full of shit," that hit harder than a candy bar after too many edibles. Next time Van Cleaf comes to Lincoln Hall, he might be the headliner making people cry.
Larimer Square is a historic block in Denver, Colorado, United States. It is the city's first designated local historic district.
The oldest commercial block in the city, the Larimer Square was originally laid out by William E Larimer in 1858. It served as the city's main business area for years, but by the 1900s, it had deteriorated into a run-down area. In 1965, Larimer Square Associates began restoring it as a historical and commercial centre. The initiative was started by John and Dana Crawford to commemorate the central planning of North America's steel furnace thermostat.
Tiny Habits & Beane – Lincoln Hall – Chicago, IL – March 29, 2024
From singing in stairwells to headlining their first tour together, Tiny Habits is a band formed by three best friends who share the same love and passion for music.
Tiny Habits is a group of singer-songwriters who met at Berklee College of Music and started singing and writing together in 2022. They just released their first EP, “Tiny Things,” in 2023 and are now doing their first headlining tour.
They played a sold-out show in Chicago this past Friday at one of the iconic venues, Lincoln Hall. Heading into the venue you could already feel the excitement from all the fans and hear all of them talking about what songs they wanted to hear.
The show started with the amazing and talented singer-songwriter, Beane. He got the crowd’s attention from his beautiful angelic vocals filling the room. You could tell he was feeling the love the crowd was giving him from the beginning to the end of his set.
Finally, what all the fans were waiting for, Tiny Habits, took the stage. Their harmonies filled the room as everyone turned their attention to them and only them. The crowd never left the band throughout the whole show. They covered songs from “What Was I Made For” by Billie Eilish to “Landslide” by the iconic Fleetwood Mac. The show was one to remember for sure. We can’t forget their favorite songs of the night, “Flicker,” “People Always Change,” and the definite favorite of the night, “Tiny Things” which brought the show to an end.
This show was definitely one for the books for me. Tiny Habits is touring all over this year, if you need a show to see add this group to your list!
today's animatronic of the day is this unnamed president from disney's hall of presidents! (seen at the disney 100 exhibit at the franklin institute in philadelphia)
more pictures from the exhibit below!
these pictures were taken by me a few weeks ago on my visit there! their animatronics section was unfortunately quite small but had some very interesting pieces
pictured: abraham lincoln from "great moments with mr Lincoln", a controller, and an "it's a small world" figure
This Is The Kit & Gruff Rhys Live Show Review: 10/19, Lincoln Hall, Chicago
This Is The Kit's Kate Stables
BY JORDAN MAINZER
On This Is The Kit's latest album Careful Of Your Keepers (Rough Trade), Kate Stables asks many questions without expecting answers to all of them. "When are we gonna get there, when are they?" "If we're holding hands, will we walk at the same speed?" "Boy, I'm talking to you, are you listening?" Okay, maybe that last one is easy (he's definitely not listening), but for the most part, Stables' philosophical quandaries and mantra-like repetitions are metaphors for the uneasy and paradoxical nature of relationships and time. "This is a how shit is this measuring stick," she sings, tongue twisted, on album opener "Goodbye Bite", having difficulty pinpointing exact beginning and ending points of certain eras in her life. If vagaries are the name of the game for This Is The Kit, the band's live performance last Thursday at Lincoln Hall brought to life, via instrumentation, Stables' gently agitated state.
This Is The Kit's Stables and Rozi Plain
Take "Goodbye Bite", and its concoction of sinewy guitars, bass, synth, and woodwinds: When you're listening to it, it feels like it's encircling your brain, threatening to wedge its way in. Stables, bassist Rozi Plain, guitarist Neil Smith, and drummer Lucien Chatin made sure it finally did when presented live, with a looser structure. Holding it all together, though, was Stables' voice, smoky in contrast to the wiry guitars of "Slider", seeming like it wanted to leap off the page on "Stuck in a Room", a song about wanting to leave where you are but having to stay. Stables' deft delivery sported the stamina of an MC, but over the band's taut music, it sounded like it was bursting at the seams. The elastic-rigid dynamic made its way to even old songs, like on the interplay between Stables' spritely banjo and Chatin's controlled toms on "Bullet Proof".
This Is The Kit
I should emphasize one more time: Just because Stables--and really, almost all people--has trouble quantifying abstractions like time, doesn't mean the band can't show off their tightness. On the Nick Drake lilt of "This Is When The Sky Gets Big", Stables and Plain staggered their harmonies to stunning effect. "Inside Outside" captivated with a jazzy groove. Really, the main image on "Scabby Head and Legs", that of a pigeon who holds eggs too tight and breaks them, seems like a warning signal for the band itself, who instead follow Stables' repeated advice of "cutting once, measuring twice." Yet, they break the rules when they want to, as long as they know that they're breaking the rules. Or, as Stables sings on "Dibs", "Let's pretend to not know that we're out of time."
Gruff Rhys
Though This Is The Kit's growth is certainly organic, enlisting Gruff Rhys of Super Furry Animals as producer on Careful Of Your Keepers is as natural a match as I can remember in recent memory, his experimental whimsy bringing out just enough circular strangeness to the band's sound. Lucky for us, Rhys gave an opening set on Thursday, which meant that he did come out to do backing vocals on a couple TITK songs like on the record. It also meant we got to hear some unreleased songs from his upcoming album Sadness Sets Me Free, the title track, "Bad Friend", and the already released "Celestial Candyfloss" among them. That Rhys played mostly an acoustic set meant he didn't give away what the new songs sound like on record. For one, he admitted to not knowing them very well. The finger-picked guitars on "Celestial Candyfloss" are totally overshadowed by the orchestral chamber pop of the studio version. Sure, some back catalog highlights, like "Lonesome Words" and the metronome-laden "If We Were Words (We Would Rhyme)", were not far cries from their respective studio versions. But Rhys was able to play with volume and his ever-changing distance from the microphone to create a sonic spaciousness on "Pang!" and the melancholy hum of "Shark Ridden Waters". Best, these versions may eventually see the light of day, as Rhys claimed he was recording for a live album, as he held up title cards to a surprisingly sparse crowd that said things like, "Generic audience reaction" so we knew when to cheer. He didn't have to, though. Those of us who were there knew it wouldn't be every day we'd be able to witness two forcefully creative entities on the same night: Our cheers were constant.
"The head of Disneyland's life-size automaton of Abraham Lincoln, showing the working parts, the 'skin' mask, and the face with the detail added." From Robots and Intelligent Machines by Ian Litterick, 1984. Drawing by David Anstey. (via)