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About Eugene weekly. (Eugene, Oregon) 1993-current | View Entire Issue (Sept. 21, 2006)
The Girl Can’t Help It When you first hear a Shelly Rudolph tune, you might be struck, as I was, by how natural her voice sounds. Though she’s soft-spoken in real life, give Rudolph a bluesy number and her voice commands attention. The second thing you might notice, as I did, is how diverse her new CD, Water In My Hand, is. She swings easily from a bluesy opener to a bubbly tune with an African rhythm to an easy-breezy Caribbean sounding number. And like her voice, the diverse elements sound perfectly natural. “The songs just come out that way. I don’t have any control over them,“ says Rudolph. “I started out doing a lot of jazz and blues and that’s kind of my natural musical voice.” Rudolph has undoubtedly been influenced by the Northwest’s strong blues scene, but her other influences aren’t so localized. “In my ideal world I would live in the Northwest part of the time and in the Caribbean part of the time,” she says. “So there’s this other part of me that hasn’t been developed as much because I don’t live there. It’s in me, inexplicably, but it’s there.” Rudolph moved to Eugene at the age of four. She grew up here, graduating from South Eugene High and then the UO. She started music in high school, singing in choir and a solo jazz group a friend convinced her to try out for. “I got the solo and I just kept going from there,” Rudolph says. She played regular jazz gigs at Jo Federigo’s and in different bands. Though she’s moved around a lot — Eugene to New York, then Portland, L.A., back to Portland, Santa Barbara — Portland’s her home base now. Rudolph settled on the title to her new CD out of a sense of searching for something elusive. “I guess searching for either Shelly Rudolph understanding that keeps slipping through my fingers or the relationship slips through my fingers, just that constant kind of yearning, like water in your hand.“ Shelly Rudolph plays at 8 pm Friday, Sept. 22 and Saturday, Sept. 23 at Luna. 21+ shows. $7 adv., $8 door. — Vanessa Salvia Get Your Jangle On A pair of Portland trios under the influence of jangly mid- ‘90s indie rock will be livening up Luckey’s this weekend (Eugenean melody masters The Heavenly Oceans are also on the bill). Willamette Week called Yoyodyne “sheer happiness,” and there is something infectiously gleeful about the pop-satu- rated tunes and boy-girl call and response vocals offered up by bassist/singer Emily Vidal and guitarist/singer Johnny Keener (drummer and “propmaster” Jason Greene rounds out the group). Occasional moments of lyrical awkwardness aside, these three are clearly students of the same school of pop confection as That Dog, The Rentals, Heavenly and many even lesser- known bands — though Yoyodyne keeps it just rough enough around the edges to retain a DIY sort of appeal. You might even find yourself pogoing like it’s 1997. The ever-so-aptly named The Janglies are three clean-cut young men with a promo photo that makes them look more like a trio of jazz students than the creators of a boppy but pensive sound. The Janglies’ music is so darned earnest it’s easier than it should be to forgive them lines like “I was driving in my car / I never cried so hard” and just pay attention to the choirboy harmonies instead. The too-long “New Day” gets a little overwhelmed by its different sections; some are downright pretty, as when a crisp snare buoys a repeating guitar tone reminiscent of Rainer Maria, but others seem cut-and-pasted from a different song. But this is a first EP, and these fellas certainly have room to grow; the gently Weezer-ified “Kathy” is cute and, er, jangly, and “Besides Me” bor- rows from the Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ “Maps” for a quick intro before heading down a jerky, distorted path. You want some pop in your rock, some spring in your musical step? Here’s your show. Yoyodyne, The Janglies and The Heavenly Oceans play at 10 pm Friday, Sept. 22 at Luckey’s. 21+ show. $3-$5. — Molly Templeton Loving Lads Portland’s Alan Singley and Pants Machine is a pop-folk- rock ensemble that flirts with the hopeful side of emo and sets hearts aflutter in the process. They can work the sensitive-yet- happy-go-lucky guy angle and seamlessly slip into genius-rock- er-dude without seeming like posers for even a second. They are the local music world’s answer to that guy who is so good with women/men you want to blow up his car, but he’s so damn likable you find yourself jostling for his attention. Perhaps it’s crude to draw comparisons between art and hooking up (although calling your band “Pants Machine” kind of asks for it … ). But there is little in this world more elusive and desirable than amorous attention, and for musicians, the ability to wrap stunningly memorable words in just the right melody and pull it off without reeking of pretension comes awfully close to finding that special someone. Singley and Pants Machine are often compared to myriad similar acts currently flooding the indie scene with broody, offbeat ballads and raw, atmospheric love songs that can get you all twisted up inside (think Ben Folds or Rufus Wainwright). And they’re good bands. But there are just so many of them. Singley and Pants Machine’s latest album, Loving Kindness, dares to think about what might happen once you get over that one guy/girl who mind-fucked you until all your house plants died of pity and even your dog couldn’t look you in the face. Not to say there aren’t moments of darkness or plenty of minor chords worthy of a good solo weep-fest, but there are also songs about sunny days and holding hands and protecting one another from the fires that burn in our brains at night. So after you’re done weeping, you might just want to hug your pillow and squeal with the glee of your new musical crush. Alan Singley and Pants Machine play with The Ingredients and DoublePlusGood at 7 pm Thursday, Sept. 28 at Cozmic Pizza. $4-$5. — Adrienne van der Valk Alan Singley and Pants Machine Tambourine et. al. Man Seth Kauffman’s press is so good he doesn’t have to rely on promotional materials penned by himself or a “publicist” who happens to be his best friend. When you look through a gazillion press packs a month, details like this start to seem refreshing. I was also predisposed to like Seth Kauffman because he plays the tambourine. I like a man secure enough to shake an instru- ment typically reserved for the band’s current lay. Then I noticed that he actually played every instrument (from trashcan lid to lap steel to llama toenails) and wrote and sang every word on his debut solo album, Ting. I started to feel like this Kauffman guy might be something special, but I wanted to listen to the album before being brainwashed by the legit-looking press pack. Ting earns high points for listenability and variety in both sound and subject matter. Kauffman bends plenty of groovy dis- tortion, adding a deliberately modern edge to his funky, bluesy and at times Motwown-tinged tunes. He reminds me a little of Eels and a lot of Beck, but not in a “I’m going to be the new Eels or Beck” kind of way. Kauffman appears to know music at a fun- damental level, well enough to play around with it respectfully and have the result be totally original but also pleasingly famil- iar. His songs are funny and quirky and smart and sad. So are the people who will like them. I don’t really know what “lo-fi” means, but according to his non-best-friend publicist, Kauffman is that too. Regardless, he is touring with a band right now (The Real Mothers) and my guess is he is going to make it big, so go on and see this lo-fi fellow play the llama toenails now before his press pack starts being published in full color glossy. Seth Kauffman plays with opening act Wellsville at 9 pm Wednesday, Sept. 27 at Sam Bond’s Garage. 21+ show. $5. — Adrienne van der Valk SEPTEMBER 21, 2006 33
