Only Aretha Franklin has been as magnificent and consistent an R&B, blues and soul interpreter as James, and at times not even Aretha has sung with as much authority and intensity. James doesn’t just cover blues or soul material, but rather is the embodiment of heartache testifying. Born Jamesetta Hawkins, she left the gospel world in 1954, changing her name and becoming a teen sensation with “Roll With Me, Henry,” an earthy workout that was far too hot—and overtly sexual—for white America in the mid-’50s. The follow-up, “Good Rockin’ Daddy,” might have been even more torrid, but those two records hardly detail the full scope of James’ appeal or prowess. She sings show tunes and pre-rock ballads with flair and grace, and has shocked jazz purists convinced that a bawdy blues and R&B singer can’t do masterful versions of “Green Dolphin Street” or “Lush Life.” But while James is magnificent at sophisticated stanzas, there’s no one better at turning listeners and songs inside out the way she has done on anthems like “I’d Rather Go Blind,” “All I Could Do Was Cry” and “Stop the Wedding”—as well as on the scorching soul classic “Tell Mama.” James cut one of the all-time great live soul albums here in 1963 (Etta James Rocks the House), although there remain old-time partisans of the New Era club who swear they heard better sets by James that didn’t get recorded. Recently, she’s won raves for a marvelous tribute LP to Billie Holiday and other works displaying her less demonstrative side, but her current album, Let’s Roll, is frenzied and hard-hitting. She’s appearing along with the Roots Band for what’s sure to be an unforgettable night of blues and soul. Ryman Auditorium
—Ron Wynn
Music
Saturday, 29th
Oro Solido Merengue, the torrid dance music of the Dominican Republic, has flirted with the pop mainstream ever since the Latin music craze of the late 1990s. Over the past year, the Nolensville Road nightclub Coco Loco has succeeded in bringing world-class merengue orchestras to Nashville, and Oro Solido may be its biggest coup yet. (The show actually takes place at Kache on Third Avenue South, which is also owned by Santos Gonzalez, the owner of Coco Loco.) Led by New Jersey-raised Raul Acosta, whose nickname “El Presidente” says something about the group’s stature, the band’s Puerto Rican and Dominican musicians have been performing together for almost 10 years. They’ve had several international singles, albums and hits compilations, but in the U.S. they got the widest exposure from their single “La Paleta,” which appeared in the recent remake of Shaft. Whether as bandleader, as label chief of 24K Records or as an activist who has performed to secure wheelchairs for impoverished citizens in the Dominican Republic, Acosta may be merengue’s most visible ambassador in the U.S. Seeing him and his high-energy band here in a relatively small club is a rare opportunity; tickets are $35 and can be purchased in advance at Coco Loco restaurant and dance club, which sounds wise. Kache
—Jim Ridley
Super Madrigal Brothers Any fan of Elizabethan music who spent the early ’80s pouring quarters into Galaga and Asteroid arcade machines will recognize the Super Madrigal Brothers’ influences. On their debut, Shakestation, Sir Fashion Flesh and Oliver Cobol, a.k.a. John Taglia and Adam Bruneau, use scratchy, eighit samples—like those on primitive video games—to give 16th and 17th century madrigal hits the full Atari treatment. Indie figurehead Momus, who was designing a Shakespeare-themed video game for Sony Playstation, first brought the duo together. The Brothers’ blipping, buzzing versions of madrigal classics like Thomas Morley’s “Good Morrow, Fair Ladies of the May” aren’t nostalgic, but rather involve Dada-inspired juxtapositions of a sentimental bourgeois idiom with an unsentimental one—an incongruous yet satisfying mix. Bruneau will be present at this evening’s installation, which brings to a close the Ruby Green center’s Superheroes exhibition; Taglia, who’s on tour with Momus, will participate via Webcam projection. Ruby Green Contemporary Arts Center
—Paul Griffith
David Mead Mead creates dazzlingly intelligent pop-rock at a time when radio and the rest of the media focus on groove or angry bombast. But should the success of Fountains of Wayne’s hit “Stacy’s Mom” initiate a pop renaissance, Mead stands poised to join those artists who could lead the charge. His two outstanding albums for RCA—Mine and Yours and World of a King—repeatedly have drawn comparisons to Squeeze, Crowded House, Elvis Costello and other melodic-rock monarchs. Mead’s soaring, emotional voice, inventive ideas and cheeky grasp of popcraft deserve all the attention and praise he can get. He recently finished a short tour as an opening act for Joe Jackson and, after too long a break, will release his third album, Indiana, early next year. Expect Mead and his band to be sharp and ready to present some new tunes in their final performance of 2003. 12th & Porter
—Michael McCall
Sunday, 30th
+/- Conceived as a one-man band by Versus guitarist James Baluyut, with help from his bandmate Patrick Ramos, NYC’s +/- have evolved into a full-blown indie-rock outfit. And perhaps a more important one too, if the group’s latest, You Are Here, is any indication. Where Versus reveled in math-rock stunts and anthemic guitar wash, +/- approach things from a more subversive angle (though, granted, you’re unlikely to find a more overt math-rock moniker than +/-). Here, the odd-time signatures are smoothed over Radiohead-style with catchy—but never clever—guitar patterns courtesy of Ramos, as well as snaky percussion from former Damnations drummer Chris Deaner. Vibes, horns and loops also appear on the album, along with what must be the first indie-rock salsa in 7/8 meter (“She’s Got Your Eyes”). Holding these track-by-track detours together is Baluyut, whose ’60s-troubadour vocals and growing confidence as a bandleader and songwriter provide dreamy continuity. +/- is a “hybrid sound,” but the sum of the parts is cathartic stuff. The End
—Jonathan Flax
Monday, 1st
Morbid Angel “Swirling madness” is how Morbid Angel guitarist and leader Trey Azagthoth once described the sensation he wanted to create with the band’s music. Along with Death and Obituary, Morbid Angel are among the elite core of bands, many of whom were also based in Tampa, who defined death metal in the ’80s. Arguably, Morbid Angel were forerunners of the genre’s migration from sheer noise to high levels of technical proficiency. Citing Mozart and Eddie Van Halen as his two biggest influences, Azagthoth’s ear for complexity was clear from day one. His evangelical sense of purpose has long pervaded Morbid Angel’s work, a great deal of which borrows from a Babylonian pantheon of gods and spirits in an attempt to evoke an ancient spirituality that Azagthoth takes quite seriously. (He also used to bite his own skin to make himself bleed onstage.) As has become the standard in death metal, the band use demonic imagery as a vehicle for rejecting the conformist conditioning of Christianity and as an actual way of life. Where similar acts might seem tongue-in-cheek or symbolic, Morbid Angel exhibit a seriousness that at once adds power to and casts a pall over their aura. Exit/In
—Saby Reyes-Kulkarni
Tuesday, 2nd
Kathy Mattea Mattea’s first Christmas album, 1993’s Grammy-winning Good News, personified a spiritual approach to the subject that went deeper than snowmen and yuletide logs, yet never lost a fundamental sense of joy and celebration. Since then, a Christmas concert tour built around the album’s songs has been a regular part of her schedule, and the set has been honed to perfection without any loss of energy or inspiration. This year, songs from her new holiday disc, Joy on Christmas Day, have been worked in, and its wide-ranging musical palette and strong new material give the show even more depth. “Doing these songs—and the show—puts me more in the Christmas spirit than anything,” Mattea says. With plenty of chances to hear jingling sleighbells elsewhere, this rare Nashville presentation offers a rich, satisfying musical experience—and a reflective, inspirational reminder of the holiday’s deeper meaning. Belcourt Theatre
—Jon Weisberger
The Queers They may be from the northeast, but posunk band The Queers owe as much to ’60s West coast pop as they do to The Ramones. Though they share the latter’s amphetamine-driven grooves and held-back-in-the-fifth-grade mentality, The Queers’ hooky two-and-a-half minute rants reveal an attention to melody that favors P.F. Sloan or Jan & Dean. Formed in New Hampshire in 1982, the band quickly gained acceptance in punk circles, but their ramshackle career didn’t allow for a widely available recording until 1993’s Love Songs for the Retarded. Since then, The Queers have been more consistent but, thankfully, not more mature. They’re often mistakenly lumped in with homo-core bands like The Sailors or Pansy Division; in fact, The Queers do share that movement’s love of good-natured vulgarity, if not their sexual orientation. The End
—Paul Griffith
Wednesday, 3rd
Just Peace x 2 At a time when Americans frustrated with the Iraqi occupation and the erosion of First Amend-ment liberties want the left to put up its rights, the Nashville Peace and Justice Center maintains a vigil against poverty, aggression and state-sponsored skulduggery. To support the Center and its community-based coalition of organizations and individuals, this benefit gathers a range of talents as wide as the Center’s concerns: blues-rock from Jonell Mosser, bluegrass from Tim O’Brien, spoken-word performance from JaBlaze Productions and a documentary by Molly Secours about Nashville youth, “Welcome to My Hood.” Also on hand will be items for silent auction, including photos by Al Levenson, paintings by Rachel Kice and a Fender Telecaster signed by Steve Earle. For more information, call 321-9066. Belcourt Theatre
—Jim Ridley
Classical
Alias Good full orchestral sound is a wonderful thing, but to be good, it must be anonymous—all the first violins must become one fabulous fiddle. Chamber groups are a different kind of pluribus unum—each voice needs to be heard as part of the whole. Alias, a new chamber ensemble composed mostly of symphony players, deliver finely interwoven sounds in several configurations. This season’s opening concert happens 7:30 p.m. Sunday in Blair’s Turner Recital Hall. (See the story on p. 31.) On the card are a Rautavaara string quintet, a Brahms string quartet, a Debussy sonata for violin and piano, a quartet for oboe and strings and two duets by as-yet unknown composers—one for clarinet and marimba, one for French horn and marimba. For tickets or information, call 298-1108, ext. 105.
—Marcel Smith
Theater
God’s Man in Texas In April 2002, Tennessee Repertory Theatre presented this thoughtful, well-crafted play by David Rambo. The critics raved about the production, which featured Warren Hammack and David Alford as two modern-day evangelists who get caught up in a power struggle for their ministry. Back then, the play was performed in TPAC’s Johnson Theater as a part of the Rep’s Off-Broadway Series. Now the production is being reprised upstairs at TPAC’s more elegant Polk Theater with the same cast, including Brian Webb Russell in a pivotal supporting role. Robert Hupp again serves as director, and after closing in Nashville, the show will move to Arkansas Repertory Theatre, where Hupp is the producing artistic director. The run kicks off with a preview performance on Dec. 3, then embarks on a longer-than-usual local engagement through Dec. 20. For tickets, call 255-ARTS.
—Martin Brady
Santa’s Frozen Christmas Santa’s elves take on The Ice Queen’s mischievous assistant, Flake, in John Chaffin’s original Christmas fable, which is presented with children expressly in mind, with morning shows at Chaffin’s Barn Dinner Theatre Dec. 2-20. The kids can “brown-bag” their own snack, get a beverage with the price of admission and have their pictures taken with Santa after the show. Lydia Bushfield directs a cast that includes Alyson Haley, Brandi Anderson, Kara McNealy, T.K. Durham, Warren Gore and Joseph Nobles. For reservations, phone 646-9977.
—Martin Brady
Art
Holiday Open House/TAG Art Gallery Thanksgiving, of course, officially kicks off the holiday shopping season, something that evokes dread and loathing in most sensible people. TAG Art Gallery intends to make the process as pleasurable as possible with its Holiday Open House, taking place Nov. 28-30, with an all-day opening reception 11 a.m. to 6 p.m. on Friday. Shopping is a lot more fun when the potential gifts have some aesthetic appeal, which is the case with Kevin Titzer’s sculpture, Angie and Rich Adams’ furniture pieces, and the many other works on display at TAG, which include prints, jewelry and photography. And with their focus on outsider and folk art, gallery owners Julie and Jerry Dale McFadden are offering work that can’t be found anywhere else in town, at reasonable prices to boot.
—Jonathan Marx
Canstruction/Nashville Convention Center It’s a novel idea: Stage a competition between local architecture and engineering firms in which contestants have to construct a work of art using nothing but cans of food; then, when the contest is over, donate all the cans to the hunger-relief agency Second Harvest Food Bank. Now in its eighth year in Nashville, this national charitable effort has yielded some impressive sculptures. True, they’re not exactly ground-breaking works of art, but they are novel and inventive—and, viewed from the right vantage point, they have plenty to say about human food consumption and how readily we take it for granted. Although the competition is over and the winners have been announced, the display is up in the rooftop connector at the Nashville Convention Center through Dec. 2 and is worth a look if you happen to be downtown.
—Jonathan Marx
Television
MEMORIES OF NASHVILLE In the beginning, producer Bridget Kling thought her new NPT documentary about Nashville in the 1950s and 1960s would be “fun and nostalgic, about leisure time and recreation.” Soon after she began interviewing a mix of adults and children from the era, however, she changed her mind. “Those people gave me the story,” she says. The resulting Memories of Nashville is far from a saccharine-sweet reminiscence, though it is an endearing look at life in the city. Government, commerce and the civil rights movement share the screen with Fair Park, Sulphur Dell and Harvey’s department store. “I was primarily looking for film,” she explains, saying she lucked onto caches of family movies shot by professionals. The quality of this stock, combined with photos and movies from archives and private individuals, makes for fantastic viewing for native Nashvillians and transplants alike. The program airs 7 p.m. Nov. 30 and 8:30 p.m. Dec. 4 on WNPT-Channel 8.
—MiChelle Jones
Film
Bubba Ho-Tep Last week, I said the year’s best movie title had to be Kinky Friedman: Proud to Be an Asshole From El Paso. I lied. In this indescribable horror-comedy from Phantasm/Beastmaster writer-director Don Coscarelli, the geriatric Elvis (Bruce Campbell) and the un-assassinated JFK (Ossie Davis) join forces to defeat a reanimated mummy menacing their nursing home. It opens Friday at the Belcourt; see the review on p. 61.
—Jim Ridley
Bad Santa You better watch out for Billy Bob Thornton as a boozy, foul-mouthed, self-loathing mall Santa who’s secretly scoping the joint with his elf mastermind (Tony Cox). Any parent who takes kids to this might as well shut them in an empty refrigerator with porn and loaded assault weapons. Bernie Mac, the late John Ritter and Lauren Graham co-star; Terry Zwigoff (Ghost World) directed. See the review on p. 61.
—Jim Ridley
The Missing In Ron Howard’s mystical Western, a frontier woman (Cate Blanchett) enlists her estranged father (Tommy Lee Jones) to rescue her kidnapped daughter from harm. It opens Wednesday along with the Michael Crichton time-travel yarn Timeframe and Eddie Murphy in The Haunted Mansion.
—Jim Ridley
DVD/Video
Space Is the Place Until his death in 1993, the otherworldly jazz pianist Sun Ra conceived and conducted a swinging primordial polyphony of straighp boogie, African rhythms, proto-electronica and interplanetary voodoo. Only a hint of his breadth and genius comes through in this 1974 oddity, newly available on a stellar Plexifilm DVD, but it’s enough to make the film a musee artifact. A sci-fi musical manifesto with gritty blaxploitation visuals and endearingly cruddy FX—picture a Sid & Marty Krofft version of The Seventh Seal, with Sweet Sweetback’s cinematography—the movie follows the cosmic game between the caped Ra and his devilish mack-daddy nemesis the Overseer (Ray Johnson). Extras include 20 minutes of deleted footage and home movies of the Sun Ra Arkestra at the Pyramids.
—Jim Ridley
Underground One of the great films of the 1990s, Emir Kusturica’s monstrous epic unfurls as a maelstrom of romance, violence, slapstick, music, political allegory, historical burlesque and stylistic fireworks. In a cavernous underground munitions site where World War II has never ended, two brawling buddies play out the past 50 years of Serbo-Croatian history—a tumult that in Kusturica’s hands evokes the Three Stooges as often as tragedy. New Yorker’s firsver DVD release is typically skimpy on extras—which is doubly galling, given the movie’s much longer European cut—but its arrival is still a blessing for those who missed the theatrical run.
—Jim Ridley
A Boy and His Dog If your kid brings this home, watch him very closely. Adapted from Harlan Ellison’s unforgettably sick sci-fi story, this little-seen 1975 cult movie subverts its sentimental title in every way imaginable, as nihilistic teen Don Johnson and his telepathic dog (played by The Brady Bunch pooch Tiger) scavenge through pospocalyptic rubble for rape bait. Then comes an invite below the earth’s surface to underground Topeka, Kansas (which resembles Opry Mills), where the ladies need stud servicing. It all builds to one of the nastiest punch lines in film history courtesy of writer-director L.Q. Jones, a Peckinpah ensemble player who should’ve made more movies (and who delivers a commentary track for the film’s DVD debut).
—Jim Ridley
