On the night of August 15th, I went to The Anthem in DC to see the band King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard. If you’re unfamiliar with them, they’re an incredibly popular Australian rock band made up of talented multi-instrumentalists Stu Mackenzie, Ambrose Kenny-Smith, Cook Craig, Joey Walker, Lucas Harwood, and Michael Cavanagh. One of their main appeals is their approach to genre and exploring as many sounds in their work as they can. Since forming in 2010, they’ve put out 26 studio albums (not to mention 16 live albums) that have ranged from psychedelia, various kinds of metal, progressive rock, synth-pop, sunshine pop, folk, and many more. Despite this, they still have a consistent “King Gizzard” sound that’s rooted in vintage psychedelic rock. Flight b741, which was released on August 9th, is another new musical avenue for them: an early 70s-inspired blues rock album with obvious references to The Rolling Stones and T. Rex. My brief review is that it captures the sound perfectly, with heaps of nostalgia to boot, but still provides plenty of hooks and fuzzy guitar riffs to keep it a consistently entertaining listen. Give it a whirl when on a road trip. You won’t regret it.
Okay, now back to the concert. This was the first show for their tour to support Flight b741, with the opener at this show being Brooklyn-based indie-punk band Geese. They proved to be a fitting match for King Gizzard, as their newest LP 3D Country features a classic rock sound similar to Flight b741, albeit with more country influence. I enjoyed their performance, though, with only the core members of the band, their sound was more alternative rock that doesn’t capture the roots-based atmosphere of the album. Still, they were fun despite the more stripped-back aesthetic. There were occasional unique touches like hand drums and smooth keyboard playing, and I gotta give props to their frontman Cameron Winter. He’s a very interesting and captivating presence, with an oddball southern yodel-ish twang in his vocals that stood out to me.
After Geese’s set, there was a 30-minute break so King Gizzard’s crew could set up. Right before their performance started, a message appeared on screen reminding the audience to have fun in the mosh pit but to look after each other and report anyone dangerous to security. I didn’t get close enough to mosh, but I’ve heard enough horror stories of audience injuries to know that the message was responsible on the band’s part. I should also note the atmosphere and the crowd of the show. There were lots of young people at the show, (more men than women, though still a decent mixture) around their 20s and early 30s. With the band’s decade-spanning influences, it also made sense that there were also some middle-aged and older people that were likely fans of similar bands such as Phish or The Grateful Dead. All the concert tickets sold out quickly, so the general audience pit on the main floor had to be packed tightly to accommodate everyone. From my firsthand experience, it smelled of sweat, pot, and alcohol the entire time. Still, that was to be expected from a crowd made up mainly of stoners wanting to mosh or get zonked out on hallucinogens.
King Gizzard’s main ethos seems to be that not only do they never repeat an album, they also never repeat a show. The band’s live performances feature lots of extensive jamming, allowing for the musicians to ride a groove and riff off one another with improvisations, giving the songs a different feel from their studio counterparts. While the jams of earlier shows may have focused more on heavier metal riffs (according to my friend, anyway. Shoutout Nayeli!), the ones this one had fit more with the influences on the new album and are more bluesy (featuring harmonicas!) with some fuzzy psychedelia and touches of funk. I’m a fan of extended performances of songs to ride out a groove to its fullest, but admittedly some improvisations could be too aimless and lengthy. They were fun, but it got to a point where I nodded off before things kicked back into gear. However, these jams are a staple of their concerts, and it may not entirely matter to you if you enjoy watching talented performers work their craft (or if you’re super high). I’ll also give the band jams credit for being more inviting to new fans that may not have listened to all of King Gizzard’s albums and giving them something entirely distinctive to their concert.
The band’s setlist was very diverse and featured 14 songs from their catalog within 2+ hours. This included three of the new songs from Flight b741, and songs from Omnium Gatherum, Ice, Death, Planets, Lungs, Mushrooms and Lava, Nonagon Infinity, and others. Despite each album representing a new era and sound, they all fit well together and never appeared too different from each other while still being distinctive. The funk grooves of “Iron Lung”, the raw acid flavoring of “The Dripping Tap”, and the last 30 minutes of the show with back-to-back metal songs (featuring fan favorites “Mars for the Rich” and “Supercell”) all shine brightly. What I admire about the band is their democratic approach to playing, with no member seeming more important than the other. Sure, Stu Mackenzie is their designated “frontman”, but each member gets time to solo, time to speak to the crowd, and opportunities to do what they’re good at. The concert closes on an intense and completely hypnotic drum solo by Michael Cavanagh at the end of “Gaia”.
King Gizzard provided and continues to provide wonderful concerts that rock out, all the while showcasing the band’s chemistry and never-ending talents as they continue being one of the best live acts around. I can’t recommend seeing them enough, whether it’s once or multiple times.
On May 15th, Kansas City favorite Local Natives made an appearance at The Truman alongside Uwade. Visual artist Jennifer Casida was on-hand to deliver some fun and psychedelic photos of the sold-out event, which took place on a gorgeous, temperate spring evening under a pink midwest sunset.
Fans had no problem waiting in the heavy, pouring rain for Maddie Zahm. Before doors even opened, the lengthy line to Irving Plaza wrapped around the venue, stretching for blocks upward. This isn’t completely odd for certain shows at Irving Plaza, but I only had one question: who was Maddie Zahm?
I hadn’t heard of Zahm before, and was quite curious. It was clear she had cultivated a very large fanbase. To figure this out, I began questioning them. I wanted to know everything about her, and was quickly given the story:
Zahm’s fanbase developed from an EP, You Might Not Like Her. With singles such as “Fat Funny Friend,” “If It’s Not God,” and the title track, “You Might Not Like Her,” Zahm went viral. She went viral on Reddit, she went viral on TikTok, she went viral pretty much everywhere. And it’s easy to see why. Zahm writes confessional lyrics about some of her most painful experiences, creating mini-memoirs. She also shares these stories on TikTok, providing a safe place where fans can experience not just her music, but who she is as a person.
Chronicling her youth and young adulthood growing up in the church in Boise, Idaho, Zahm discusses religious trauma and how it can play out in the mental, emotional, and physical self. She also notes her bisexuality, and how the church made her feel alien unto herself as she sought to understand who she really was, entering the stage of unlearning. (In fact, in the video for You Might Not Like Her, Zahm and her parents act in a scene depicting her coming out story. The scene ends with a group hug.) Zahm has also struggled with weight gain due to her diagnosis of Polycystic Ovary Syndrome (PCOS) and describes how she was treated by her peers, with multiple scenes in the You Might Not Like Her video.
It’s Zahm’s candor, authenticity, and unwavering kindness that have most endeared her to her fans. Now touring for her new LP, the appropriately titled Now That I’ve Been Honest, the response to Zahm has exploded. For the EP, she played at smaller New York City venues such as the Mercury Lounge. For her LP, Zahm graduated to Irving Plaza.
I began asking fans if this was their first Zahm show, the answer usually being a resounding “no.” There were, however, newer fans Zahm gained with the success of her LP, most of whom were eagerly waiting for this show since it was announced. The majority of fans revealed that they had experienced one or more of the issues Zahm addresses, offering them solace and representation. It wasn’t just the music they loved, it was Zahm herself.Her shows are safe spaces, they told me, where everyone is welcome and included. Fans also detailed how they met at Zahm concerts, from making new acquaintances to forging close friendships.
I asked for more specifics on Zahm’s live show, which was summed up for me by one fan: “You just have to see her. It’s hard to explain. But when you see her perform, you’ll just get it.” And this fan was right, far more right than I even knew.
When Zahm walked out onstage, she was beaming from ear to ear. In fact, the first photo I snapped was of her infectious smile. Her fans cheered and gazed at her longingly, reverently. She opted for her first song to be a slower one, the achingly beautiful “Blind Spot.” Maddie sang so close to the edge of the stage that I thought she might fall off, but I quickly understood why: Zahm wants to be as close to her fans as possible.
In between lyrics, Zahm went around to the first row, saying a quiet hi, sometimes with a wave, to each fan up front. In addition, Zahm often holds the mic to the crowd, inviting them to sing with her. It’s this collective chorus and communal space that causes fans to refer to Zahm shows as “church.”
Zahm is witty and sharp, often cracking jokes between songs. Prefacing the second track on her LP, “Eightball Girl,” she noted that her mother, upon hearing the song, asked her if she was doing cocaine. (For the record, it’s about a magic eightball.) Loud laughter echoed throughout the venue, bouncing off the walls. The balance between pain and its collective intimacy, laughter and joy, is what a Zahm show brings. It’s clear her star will keep rising—and we’ll follow with it.
The second leg of Zahm’s tour is happening now! Dates are below: May 20 Wooly’s – Des Moines, IA May 21 The Waiting Room – Omaha, NE May 23 Center for the Arts – Jackson, WY May 24 Knitting Factory – Boise, ID
It hasn’t been historically easy for me to figure out what to do for my birthday. Usually, I use the fact that I am an identical twin to find ways to celebrate. Plus, both my brother and brother-in-law have birthdays during the same week as us. April is a crazy time in our household!
But when I heard AJR was planning to be in my hometown on my birthday this year, it was a no-brainer that I would be there. Not because I’m a superfan. (Admittedly, I’m not.) Not because I know their catalog extensively. (Oops, I am a very casual listener.) Actually, it was because the band’s energy felt like the right one for my birthday. Well-paced songs, often dark honesty blended with pop hooks, quirky entertainment value. I had caught a glimpse of their live set at Bonnaroo in 2019, and had wanted to see their full creative capabilities. So, my mom and I got tickets together. (Because she has wildly good taste in music and is a phenomenal show buddy.)
AJR is another three-brother band comprised of Adam, Jack, and Ryan Metz. They are more than just your average “We tried choreographed dancing and it’s still stiff,” “We dress alike for our image,” or “We play instruments but we don’t use the space to entertain” groups. They have approached their work very differently than many others, to maintain their individuality and spark as a group the whole time. As their music catches fire with even more people, they acknowledge and appreciate their successes as it happens.
Dean Lewis opened the show for them, bringing his brand of Australian power ballad to the people of Kansas City. While he may have unbuttoned a few too many buttons on his shirt, his rendition of Goo Goo Dolls’ “Iris” was really well done, and his vulnerability on stage allowed him to connect with the early crowd.
As is the case when you head to a comedy show, be prepared for AJR to exist outside of the box a little bit. Crowd interaction, scripted stage moments, and behind-the-scenes glimpses into their creative process… So many more examples of dynamic storytelling aside from the incredible musicianship are in store for you. The show’s eco-impact – supported by Adam Met’s efforts as a climate activist – is notable alone, as they sell sustainably packaged water and donate a percentage of each ticket sold to Planet Reimagined. Their VIP experiences are almost as dynamic as the show itself. During an AJR show, they drive cars, dine in restaurants, skydive, do shadow puppets, and perform from unexpected heights. And that’s just some of it.
There is a performed breakdown of the song “Way Less Sad” during their set. This was one of the most fascinating elements of their show. It allowed AJR to play with prepared prose and do a little set work. Seeing this – and hearing them talk about having a theatrical musical style – was a super relatable moment as a child of the 90s raised on musicals and art. It seems these brothers had nurturing upbringings embracing the arts and they work really well together. I see myself in that, and want to lead a more collaborative existence like that.
If you are heading out to see The Maybe Man Tour and don’t have context, there is a sad piece to their set. They talk about the inspiring advice their dad gave them before he passed last year. It is fresh in their minds, their lyrics, and their hearts as they approach the topic. I warn you because waterworks are almost unavoidable. Even surrounded by confetti and giddy, happy hearts of almost every age. (It was kind of like a daycare in there at times.)
Demetri Martin released a new Netflix special on Tuesday, the first of two to be released on the streamer this year. Before it had been out for 24 hours, I watched it twice.
For those who knew me 10-15 years ago, this hardly comes as a shock. My family enjoyed his comedy when I was is teenager. I believe we were eating Ben & Jerry’s pints for dinner and watching Demetri when guys from a neighboring school came over and asked us (the twins) to homecoming. (My parents were cool and once in a while, we got to eat ice cream for dinner. What of it?) It’s no surprise that lines of his dry comedy are what we both chose as our senior quotes in the yearbook. My sister even surprised me one year with tickets to his show for our birthday.
I didn’t realize until now how much I was missing Demetri’s unique brand of comedy. Sure, I have always followed him on social media, but he’s not one of those comedians who lives on his page either. He has built a seemingly quiet life with his wife and two children in California, releasing books, acting, writing, producing, and doing voiceover work between comedy gigs. Yes, we got a well-formed special every few years (2004, 2007, 2012, 2015, 2018), but we have been left to clips, quirky one-liners, and small peeks into his personality since the last special – Demetri Martin: The Overthinker – released in 2018.
So when Demetri Martin: Demetri Deconstructed popped up on my television, I waited mere hours to enjoy it with my parents. And then I went upstairs and watched it again.
First of all, the effort he puts into his intros is actually admirable. If you’re wondering about his use of black and white in his latest special, it’s explained before he even takes the stage. He uses his voiceover talents to help the audience identify his thought process, recognize – and relate to – his idiosyncracies, and make layered jokes. It seems to allow him a structured vulnerability, the affinity for “off-handed” comments that are planned, but well-timed comedically.
Demetri’s choice to incorporate drawing and other forms of art he enjoys in his set is – and has always been – bar none. Sure, iconic comedians have brought additional talents to the stage. (Acts like Bo Burnham, TIm Minchin, and others enjoy singing during their comedy acts. I’ll be watching Steven Martin’s doc soon, and have always admired his picking talents.) Demetri has always drawn representations of his jokes. His method includes charts, graphs, and tables, not-so-subtle reminders that his comedy is very unique.
I have to admit, I didn’t see subpar ventriloquy as the new trick in Demetri’s toolbelt I would enjoy. His spot-on impersonation of a demon from hell – and I have to specify that it is not the devil – was impactful because of its silliness and relatability.
Demetri is also known for using music in impactful moments. It is common knowledge/widely thought that he would play guitar and other musical elements throughout his sets so that executives at Comedy Central and elsewhere couldn’t edit his material to their liking for public airing. In this way, he kept more of his artistic integrity on jokes that were always widely family-friendly. Now, the threat of artistic integrity might not exist as much for Martin. But he does incorporate fun jazz beats throughout his set, giving impact to the punchlines and guiding the audience into a more relaxed and intimate-feeling environment.
While I don’t want to give away any big pieces of his set, I will say that this special commands your full attention. Jokes about Bitcoin, tic tac toe (brilliant, in case anyone is wondering), crowd work, self-deprecation, industrial strength scented trash bags, logistics, and well-known phrases can be expected. Lighting is artfully used to enhance his dramatic readings of hilarious, “mysterious” thoughts. And he accomplishes all of this while looking like – and having the energy of – someone much younger than himself.
If you love curious, intricate, silly humor that you can quote around (most of) your family, Demetri Deconstructed will accomplish this for you. Check it out on Netflix now.
If you’ve stumbled upon Liz Miele‘s latest comedy masterpiece on Netflix and are expecting a horror podcast to come to life, you might be reaching from – or into – the wrong genre. As horrific as some of her personal anecdotes are to people, I’m sure, Miele finds so much humor in her everyday life that she is able to make even a laundry mishap sound edgy and crucial to a set.
In a 2012 interview with Miele, I asked her what up-and-coming comedians she was most excited about. She rattled off a list of people she worked with. This list included Carmen Lynch, Nate Bargatze, Dan Soder, Rory Scovel, Ryan Conner, Jordan Carlos, Jermaine Fowler, Kelly MacFarland, and Myq Kaplan. Before many of them hit their true stride, she was cheering them on. I’m ready to watch each of them, in turn, champion her new special, as she has stayed so true to herself in her brand of comedy, yet exponentially elevated with each new comedy routine and standup taping.
What I love about a comedian so well-versed in their craft is how they can easily weave their inspiration into their work. Liz has effortlessly given space to her parents and their shared profession, her siblings and their mutual impact on each other’s lives, and all of the people and beings that are meaningful to her at this stage in her life.
Just when you think there is an established rhythm of jokes about her family dynamic interwoven with insightful commentary and the occasional birth order trope, Miele returns to cat-heavy storytelling. While this could otherwise drastically affect the momentum of a standup comedian’s set, it actually just re-confirms her status as a cat person. (Which I did note in my 2012 interview with: “Fair warning: She has a thing for cats.”) It’s a reminder – hilariously placed – of the single-mindedness most animal “parents” suffer from at times, and pulls in a demographic (animal lovers, cat people) that can relate to this stage work.
But the genius in the “cat work” is that she uses stories about her cats to propel her singledom (and willingness to date, change, etc.) into the forefront of the conversation. This expertly ties back to her modern dating jokes earlier in the set.
If you hang on through the credits – well earned, as they are – you will see the results of Miele’s intricate storytelling, a true testament to her authenticity. “I wrote an 11-minute joke about this whole process.”
Invested, talented, and deeply funny. Those are my takeaways on Miele’s character at this stage, with the release of Murder Sheets. Check it out now on Youtube.
