thirteenth time lucky
- This is the 13th studio album from Chuck Prophet, an artist that has released a long line of high quality albums (notably 2012's Temple Beautiful), can he do it again? The album starts strongly with 'Countrified Inner City Technological Man'. It starts sounding like either 'Keep on running' or 'I am the resurrection', a classic drum beat that then leads into a Rolling Stones (complete with cow bell) style jaunt. The song's lyrics are political and show a scepticism towards surveillance and religion...topical, yet quite obvious. The catchiness of the chorus cannot be denied, and it is a great opener.
If you didn't know Chuck Prophet it would be obvious from listening that he has been at this songwriting lark a while. The songs are all self assured and the band are tight. You can hear Bob Dylan and Tom Petty in the crafting of the songs, the structuring of the songs is sublime. Lyrically, the album is less cocksure, the anxieties with modern life are apparent throughout, and this is refreshing and gives Chuck a sense of vulnerability not afforded by the instrumentation. Other highlights include 'Tell Me Anything(Turn to Gold)' and the album's last track, 'Love Is the Only Thing'. The latter starts with a drum solo and lyrically the song is a fitting end to an album of ups and downs.
October 30, 2014
Sometimes the unknown pen can nail it
Chuck Prophet: Night Surfer
Sometimes the unknown pen can nail it: "Chuck Prophet shapes his restless career with inimitable subtle flair: a vivid parade of razor-edged one-liners camouflaged in a slack-jawed drawl, songs about heartbreak and everyman heroism, drenched in twisted lines of rude Telecaster". In that bio is the essence of the 51-year-old Californian-born former Green On Red maverick. He makes you laugh; he makes you think; and often he does both at the same time. This is his 13th solo album since Green On Red and though the 12 tracks may not be his best collection, the likes of Ford Econoline and Truth Will Outare a cut above the herd. See him prove it at the Workman's Club, Dublin, on October 16th. chuckprophet.com
October 30, 2014
his discography is an embarrassment of riches
October 1, 2014 by Simon Sweetman
Chuck Prophet: Night Surfer
Yep Roc Records/Southbound
Will history remember Chuck Prophet as some sort of Marshall Crenshaw-type? Sure, probably, but that's about as useful – and worth worrying about – as determining what is and isn't power-pop. Prophet makes great music – and he's been consistent. That the world – in its larger sense – hasn't caught on just makes it all the more precious for those of us who do know about Chuck and what he does.
It started with his time as a member of Green on Red (great band) and now a baker's dozen of solo albums, all running from good to great – hints of Beck in the voice from time to time (If I Was A Baby) and Tom Petty in the run of the music (Ford Econoline) but Chuck's got his own thing going on. Currently – and it continues here, with Night Surfer, he's serving his muse best by weighing in on the jangle, whether it be the Robert Plant-like twitch of Felony Galmour or the roots-rock balladry of Tell Me Anything (Turn to Gold). Night Surfer is that rare album where the playing is spot-on right across the board, every track – so too is the writing. A bunch of future-classics, if only when played at a gig to the faithful – but it's that sort of career high that might make someone (relatively) new to Prophet's work wonder if this is a compilation, a collection of a decade's worth of best ideas, rather than simply a dozen new songs, the first in a couple of years.
Underrated is a bit of an ugly, frustrating term – it does apply here, even if the artist wouldn't want it and the fans might want to shout from the rooftops that they've always known, even if in a small circle, how great their guy is.
Night Surfer feels like Crenshaw hooking up with Alex Chilton (Laughing On The Inside, Lonely Desolation), it feels like Tom Petty and Bob Dylan working together in earnest rather than those past follies (Truth Will Out), it feels like Beck and Robert Plant connecting over country music (Love Is The Only Thing) but far more importantly – and impressively – it feels like everything from Green On Red's Gas Food Lodging through solo highlights such asThe Age of Miracles and Temple Beautiful continuing on, culminating in this latest batch of the best songs that not enough people will hear.
That just makes them more special for those of us already hooked and/or prepared to discover.
Night Surfer doesn't have anything approaching a dud-track, it's close to perfect, seamless, almost his very best; the only reason I can't quite call this his best album is because his discography is an embarrassment of riches.
October 30, 2014
Talking with the Night Surfer: An Interview with Chuck Prophet
Talking with the Night Surfer: An Interview with Chuck Prophet
by Hal Bogerd
September 16, 2014
It often sounds naïve, stupid or both to pick a favorite disc of the year too early in the year. With only a couple of months left in 2014 before obsessive listeners pick their "Best of" lists for the year I feel comfortable and confident picking Chuck Prophet's Night Surfer (9/23, YepRoc) as my disc of the year. Night Surfer is a rocking guitar album with a romantic heart and Prophet mixes his sardonic social commentary with a healthy dose of optimism on his 13th solo album because in the end "Love is the Only Thing".
HB-What's a Night Surfer?
CP-Honestly it sounded like a title. Once it was married with an image it just started to look like somebody else's record. I thought, Well, there it is, but there is a longer story if you want it. I grew up in Orange County, California and used to surf the Huntington Pier at night under the lights because it was so crowded. There's something sort of almost post-apocalyptic about that image and at one point this record was kind of dystopian in the sense that it was an opportunity for songwriting once I tapped into that vein. I don't really think it's a dystopian record now or at least I had second thoughts about that but it was enough to get me excited about writing songs.
This is your fourth album on the YepRoc label. Do you have a deal with them for more to come or is it one record at a time. How's that work?
I'm not quite sure. Many of my heroes are film makers like John Sayles. People that have been able to make stuff with their skinny foot in the door of the mainstream but at the same time they've been able to work outside it. A lot of it is just getting the money together. Those are the guys that I follow.
The first thing you do is get a batch of songs together and if you're lucky enough to collect what I call "go to the head of the class" songs then you've got your script and at a certain point you've got to figure out how to do it. There's a lot of ways to the waterfall. I met with the YepRoc guys last March and told them I want to put a record out in the fall and they said we need a record six months in advance in order to really give it the best shot. Yeah, I know but I need this to come out in September because I want to tour in the fall. And they said we don't really base our releases around your tour dates. That's cool, it's kind of the tail wagging the dog thing. They're running a company and they only have so many open spots in their release schedule. I understand but there are some things more important than campaigns for records. For me, this is who I am and maybe it is not the smartest thing but I need to be out there in the fall playing and we need to figure out a way to do it and YepRoc said we understand that too. My attitude is, I got to go out and play these songs because if I wait until the spring I don't know if I'm even gonna like these songs. I need to look after me and that helps me make sense of my life and make sense of the dumb decisions I've made and they said, "Okay, we'll help you do it". They understood that it's not just about being successful. There's this thing where people assume records are dead and you should just put out one song and to be successful these are the things you need to do. I just tune out because I'm not really in it to be successful. I'm in it to make sense of things. I somehow think if I could make a classic, a real classic record then everything would come together in my life and that's probably a lie. But in terms of the lies we tell ourselves it's not the worst.
The first time I heard any of the new songs was a solo set at the Mystery Brewing Public House in Hillsborough, NC and then later I heard the full band versions on the record and you're going to tour with a full band. So whatever the situation is is good?
I'd like to tell you there's more of a plan than all that but yeah whatever the situation is.
If they're good songs they're going to hold up solo.
You hope. You hope they can stand up by themselves. I honestly don't know. At Mystery Brewing. I didn't now. I didn't know how people were going to react. I'm desperate. I was just a desperate little man up there. The guy with a guitar and that's it. There's nothing to hide behind.
The record kicks off with "Countrified Inner City Technological Man". It reminds me of the Stones around Beggars Banquet. It feels like a real rock album.
I was really into Beggars Banquet but also into Muswell Hillbillies. Ray Davies has always been a source of inspiration. Muswell Hillbillies has this almost retro-nuevo thing thematically but one of the things I noticed about "20th Century Man" is that it is driven by the rhythm guitar and it's acoustic. If I was to be honest it's Ray Davies, Bowie's Hunky Dory, it's Beggars Banquet. All these influences fighting it out. When you bring the acoustic up loud and make that the driving guitar then people are gonna come up to me and say it reminds them of the Stones. And I'll just go "Yeah, that's about right".
There's just something really odd and goofy and likable about the character in "Wish Me Luck" when he says "Wish me luck, even if you don't mean it" and "Wish me luck, even though I don't need it".
I wrote that with my friend Kurt and we kind of had the first line and then it just exploded. I hit that E minor chord and started screaming "Wish me luck even if you don't mean it.......It's not like I need it!" And we just tapped into this boasting sort of Kenny Powers narcissistic guy that's also very lovable and it just turned into Sideways the movie. And that was fun. You know the guy at the party that's bragging about his adventures and holding forth and at that point it wrote itself. We had a specific guy in mind too but...
That's probably better off left unsaid.
The thirteenth solo album from Chuck Prophet, Night Surfer, hits a startling career high. A set of addictively hook-laden songs
Chuck Prophet: Night Surfer – album review
Posted on September 25, 2014
My caffeine levels are low, I don't drink alcohol or eat red meat and my middle name is 'sensible'. So trust me when I say in all seriousness that Chuck Prophet (other than Strummer and Springsteen) is the best guitar front man I've seen. Add in Buddy Holly and Roy Loney and you get an idea of how his live shows coalesce around a personality and an electric guitar that leaves his disciples dumbfounded that he remains so under the radar. With Dan Stuart in Green On Red, he was as responsible as anyone for laying the mid-80s foundations of what we now know as modern Americana.
I first saw him in 2009 at the bedraggled New Roscoe in Leeds, when the ancient pewter tankards shook above the bar and he played for over two hours as though his life depended on it. Legendary local promoter John Keenan was on the door, passionately persuading passers by to give it a go. As well as the amazing masterclass in guitar virtuosity, I was immediately converted by a show shot through with humour and self-deprecation. I've seen him half a dozen times since and what you see is what you get, the new songs fitting snugly against the old and his choice of covers is always spot on (Shake Some Action, For You, Dollar Bill Blues, Sorrow) but most of all, boy can he play [the] guitar.
Prophet's prolific gigging is matched by his recorded output and Night Surfer is his thirteenth solo album. Across twelve tracks, the album achieves a remarkable consistency, with hooks, choruses and layered guitars constructed for the radio and the soft-top car and which unashamedly take aim at the brain's aurally addicted synapses.
Whereas his previous LP – 2012's Temple Beautiful – acted as a musical rough guide to his home city of San Francisco, Night Surfer seems to take inspiration from random underdog characters. He seems like a songwriter who walks out of his front door with nothing more than an open mind, ready to take inspiration from whatever he sees. Nothing startling about that, of course, except he has the knack of setting these stories to moreish melodies that defy resistance.
He's a keen historian, channelling his life experiences into a contemporary wisdom neither mawkish or lecturing. Prophet is a singularly personal writer, aware of his lineage in the roots of modern American music and whose grasp of the pop, punk, country and rock'n'roll influences that brought him to this place means that he's comfortably able to straddle the old and the new.
Chuck's lived a bit, and he's keen to make good the past as best he can. They Don't Know About Me And You reflects on paternal and maternal memories, but the nostalgia is turned into a positive acceptance of the here and now, good and bad.
Laughing On The Inside tells us how "The river of life/ Changes course every morning". These vaguely spiritual thoughts are further elevated by call and response vocals and swelling strings that leave us in no doubt how damn good he feels to be alive.
Wish Me Luck and Lonely Desolation are power pop vignettes that pack the kind of killer lyrics that Prophet's hero Alex Chilton would undoubtedly endorse, the latter benefiting from subtle and imaginative orchestration that's nailed down by a subterranean riff that adds ballast to an unashamedly commercial melody.
Wish Me Luck ("My life is an experiment/ That doesn't prove a thing") is built for his live shows, a lush cascade of guitars and strings with a confessional, tongue-in-cheek chorus that will have his audiences yelling the lyrics back at him. (I think it ends on the same note as Blondie's '...Presence, Dear' but without the distinctive final acoustic strum).
Wish Me Luck ("My life is an experiment/ That doesn't prove a thing") is built for his live shows, a lush cascade of guitars and strings with a confessional, tongue-in-cheek chorus that will have his audiences yelling the lyrics back at him. (I think it ends on the same note as Blondie's '...Presence, Dear' but without the distinctive final acoustic strum).
Guilty as a senator/ Guilty as a judge/ Sorry I couldn't be/ The man I never was" (Guilty As A Saint) is as near as we get to one dimensional regret, an emotion that Prophet's bloodhound voice wrings every last nuance out of. It's song writing devoid of ego and the confessional is powerful.
The arc of the album means that cherry picking tracks is counter productive. Night Surfer picks up its pace towards the middle and then swaggers out with the cataclysmic glam rock beat of Love Is The Only Thing, which MUST have been considered as the title track. The song ends in a squall of strings, a dimension which has clearly energised Prophet to build songs of subtlety and quiet power.
Peter Buck's guitar emerges with repeated listens, the Paisley 12-string jangle adding a depth and a dimension to the luxurious production. That the paths of REM and Green On Red must have regularly crossed down the years neatly squares a circle.
The drums pound (this is a great drumming album) and despite the avalanche of guitars the songs are allowed to breathe. I can hear them in acoustic arrangements already, and Prophet has recently toured with a full string ensemble.
So Chuck Prophet and the Mission Express live? I can't wait to hear these songs in the flesh. I'll be with him at least twice in October and they are guaranteed to be the gigs of the year. If you can get down (dates are on his web link below) then arrive early to see Jonah Tolchin, a real star in the making, open his UK and some of the European shows.
October 30, 2014
Chuck Prophet: Night Surfer
Chuck Prophet: Night Surfer
By Charles Pitter
26 September 2014
You probably want to know whether Night Surfer is any good, but the usual starting point for any article about Chuck Prophet is to lament the fact he has never hit the big time. It's easy to bracket Prophet as a cult artist, just like Elliott Murphy, Josh Rouse, or Joe Henry, but that's a somewhat lazy assertion because this kind of categorisation doesn't mean much anymore. The implication of course is of unfilled potential, as if somehow the artist should be doing better than they are. While this is usually well-intentioned enthusiasm, it's also a load of hog-wash. So-called cult artists almost always have a loyal, sometimes rabid, following of fans, an audience that will stick with them through thick or thin beyond the realms of trend. Artists with bigger commercial clout are more likely to be subject to the perilous sway of popular taste, and run the greater risk of suddenly finding themselves dumped unceremoniously at the bottom of the heap, remaindered in the bargain bin.
The other side of this well-meaning name-calling can be a type of elite snobbery, whereby the fan of a "cult" artist just wants to laud it over those who have not yet caught on to what may be the next big thing. When the artist finally breaks through, the super-fan may make accusations of selling-out.
But let's consider the possibility that not every artist necessarily even wants a big hit. Didn't somebody once say that money is the root of all evil? These days we should regularly be reminded that it's no sin to be poor, and that not everyone aspires to own the latest gadget or suburban utility vehicle no matter what the advertisers try to convince us. I'm sure a lot of musicians want to be famous, but a lot of the wiser ones must have realized by now that celebrity is a dead end and probably, most of the time, a bit of a drag.
So yeah, Chuck Prophet may not be über-famous, but Night Surfer is Prophet's 13th solo album. For the uninitiated, Prophet learnt his chops in the somewhat subterranean Paisley Underground movement, joining Green on Red in 1985 for Gas Food Lodging and successive albums. Green on Red's music has been described as psychedelic desert rock, a relatively niche category to begin with. After Green on Red's break-up, Prophet signed as a staff writer for BMG in Nashville, releasing his debut solo album Brother Aldo in 1990. Prophet's last album was 2012's Temple Beautiful, a definitively glorious record inspired by all things San Francisco. Prophet spent a few years touring Temple Beautiful non-stop around the world, including some concerts with a string octet, but here he is back again with new material surprisingly quickly for the somewhat cryptically titled Night Surfer.
Temple Beautiful was extraordinarily focused, not far from being a concept album, but ultimately a study in monochrome. After this artistic success, you can almost imagine Prophet scratching his head in the office where he writes (again for this album, often with poet Kurt Lipschutz), considering how to follow up without looking comparatively incohesive. The PR blurb claims Night Surfer is loosely conceptual, and Prophet says it's "about a path forward, about looking around and imagining where we'll be in 20 years if we just follow that path. And of course, you'll find a persistent anxiety throughout; we live, after all, in anxious times."
Fortunately Night Surfer is not an electro-futuristic nightmare, but a continuation of Prophet's twangy, jangly, pure-bred rock and roll. The conflicted and tense title of the opener, "Countrified Inner-City Technological Man", which is a raucous Rolling Stones riff monster, kind of says it all. The band delivers an exciting, conflicted performance, as Prophet rails about surveillance cameras and payday loans.
Night Surfer takes a different approach to Temple Beautiful, but the themes are broadly similar, covering the counter-culture (whatever that is), outlaws, and those on the margins. Prophet has kind of turned into the Godfather of Freak Power, but this time around it's a more grandiose vision, in full technicolor due to the wider instrumentation. "Wish Me Luck", based around a nameless real person, has a backdrop of cannabis harvests, marching in parades, and Henry Rollins. "Guilty As a Saint", which Prophet describes as a "rescue dog of a song", has more than a dose of pity for those who are not meeting their targets ("sorry I couldn't be the man I never was"). It starts with an intro reminiscent of '70s Eric Clapton, and has a great use of strings, perhaps picked up from his recent touring. Small details enhance the overall tone: Prophet's over-pronunciation of "connoisseur", some sonorous clanging bells, the unexpected melodic howling as Prophet bemoans that there are "six million people in the world / and I sleep alone."
In fact the illusive title of Night Surfer was well chosen. To get up on a wave in the dark and ride a barrel takes instinct and guts, which this record has in lorry-loads. It's a dangerous business though. "Truth Will Out (Ballad of Melissa & Remy)" is full of fear of the unknown ("tighten up your panties, boy / loosen up your wig"), a story of moral and factual ambiguity, keeping secrets and possible cover-ups, where no one ever mentions the past. Prophet's tough semi-spoken lyrics inform us that there'll be no answers, as "no one knows exactly what went down in that room." The twin guitars emphasize the multiplicity of more than one version of events, but this is how our daily news plays out. In such a climate, the cover of Ezra Furman's "If I Was a Baby" fits perfectly, with a longing for a return to infancy.
Whilst Night Surfer is an anxious, wired record, you couldn't call it neurotic, and it doesn't lack in confidence. The playing is outstanding, with a real sense of the band as a unit, kicking out, having fun. Because of this it's best listened to through speakers as opposed to solitary headphones. The atmosphere is social, as if your favourite band just happens to be playing in your garage. "They Don't Know About Me & You" has an anthemic ring to it reminiscent of Tom Petty. "Lonely Desolation" takes unfortunate circumstances and turns them in to a positive, with plucky pizzicato violins and some quirky backing. Prophet shouts that absolution is going to be hard to arrange. Catholics, or Catholicism, seem problematic on more than one song.
Prophet's singing is the strongest it's ever been despite a recent throat scare, the charismatic hip vocals well matched for the dark comedy of Night Surfer's mutant world. There's some indeterminate dark muttering and a cross-pollinated half-horse/half dog on "Laughing on the Inside" (and elsewhere a dog who's lost his bark). For the listener what's important is not what's being said, but how it's being said. "Ford Econoline" is also a great vocal performance of a tremendous song. Prophet references listening to Talking Heads as he's taken on a road trip, not knowing where he's going. Pop music geeks will immediately recognize which Talking Heads track he's listening to from the oblique but deliberately placed reference, but the lyrics are positively Dylan-esque ("all the memories like dirty plates/ stacked up in the sink of time") as Peter Buck's 12-string guitar pushes the song home. "Felony Glamour" also conjures up some vivid scenes, as Felony goes ballistic in the beauty shop. Party girls and broken poets perhaps, but the song suddenly and unexpectedly fades out, possibly the only minor disappointment that can be found.
Despite the nervous times, musically this is an upbeat record. "Tell Me Anything (Turn to Gold)" seems like the natural single, a catchy empathic jangle "to bring your troubles home to me." You can easily climb inside this song due to the communal, uplifting spirit of the chorus. "Love Is the Only Thing" is a universal message of hope with a deep glam '70s Marc Bolan riff, and it's a difficult philosophy to argue with when it's put so determinedly.
In the notes to the album, Prophet considers whether Miley Cyrus should cover one of the songs. Perhaps this would please the converts, make Prophet a pile of dough, and put him front and center on an arena or stadium stage. Ticket prices would double, merchandise sales quadruple. But if Prophet was commodified, over-exposed, commercialized, wouldn't the essence of this quirky, talented musician be diluted? Night Surfer is as good as it gets and you don't need much more, if anything at all.
Chuck Prophet – Night Surfer
"Life in Startup City, USA is making me anxious ... Landlords licking their lips, people getting evicted and laying down in front of buses. I can relate. I feel like I've been duct taped back together so many times I don't know what I'm a part of anymore," muses Chuck Prophet about his new album, Night Surfer. It's a record that belongs to that growing trend of middle-aged songwriters commenting upon, however indirectly, a world that seems to grow more restless, unnerving, and bleak by the blink (see: Elvis Costello's National Ransom, Robyn Hitchcock's Love from London). But like its contemporaries, Night Surfer doesn't curl up and wallow or slump into grouchiness, but rather acts as a diversion or pick-me-up from the same heady confusion it addresses. "This record is about a path forward for better AND worse," says Prophet, "flying blind, looking around, punching your way out of a paper sack." The result isn't a blueprint for aging gracefully or even surviving these vexing times as much as it is one man's makeshift plan for making it through the day with a bit of humor, sanity, and hope left intact.
Prophet's "path forward," full of his signature brio, wit, and sass, paves its way upon the same dynamics that have always made life worth struggling for. Standout rocker "They Don't Know About Me and You", though set in the distant future, pits boy and girl against the world, an archetype that resonates with many of us on a daily basis, even if only facing a mortgage or future in-laws and not the extinction of the human race. On "Ford Econoline", a woman, an old touring van, and a Talking Heads song on the radio (not to mention Peter Buck's cameo twelve-string) are enough to summon a warm feeling and create some mistiness. And on closer "Love Is the Only Thing", Prophet concludes, as have many songwriters before him, that love, despite its ability to inflict hurt upon us, is the only real gold left in a depreciating world. In many ways, Night Surfer really becomes a record bent on salvaging — or at least recognizing — what's still worth clinging to in our lives.
Musically, listeners will be familiar with Prophet's tact for architecting guitar-driven songs that are equal parts grit and jangle pop (e.g., "Countrified Inner City Technological Man", "Ford Econoline"), but it's often the subtler adornments or decisions that Night Surfer crests upon: like the shouted, call-and-response backing vocals in the pop chorus of "Tell Me Anything (Turn to Gold)" or the mumbling interlude of "Laughing on the Inside", with building strings that prod the song to its coiling finish. Other times, cooldowns that might threaten to stymie the record's momentum avoid tedium through a mix of elements — falsetto and strings ("Guilty as a Saint") or cooing backing vocals and plucking instrumentation ("Lonely Desolation") — and actually create breathing space that make the surrounding rockers all the more potent.
It's rare that Prophet loses his balance on Night Surfer. "Felony Glamour", despite its energy and interjection of horns, ultimately falls flat with its one-note observational commentary and fades out to no meaningful end. Likewise, the spoke-sung courtroom narrative "Truth Will Out (Ballad of Melissa and Remy)" features a great vocal turn on its chorus and some choice Prophet-isms ("He called himself The Greek, but he only spoke French"), but not a compelling enough story or arrangement to warrant repeat listens. Still, Night Surfer remains that rare record that elucidates how dysfunctional our world has become while somehow leaving us thankful that we get to trudge ahead through the mess. Maybe the album's takeaway line actually comes from Prophet's cover of Ezra Furman's "If I Was a Baby": "Life is a waiting room for all those who wait/ So much of it's terrible, but all of it's great."
Essential Tracks: "They Don't Know About Me and You", "Tell Me Anything (Turn to Gold)", and "Ford Econoline"
CHUCK PROPHET AND THE MISSION EXPRESS, RED JACKET MINE
CHUCK PROPHET AND THE MISSION EXPRESS, RED JACKET MINE
(White Eagle, 836 N Russell) We've still got Ray Davies, but even if we didn't, Chuck Prophet would be more than adequate compensation. The San Francisco songwriter's knack for melody and eagle eye for emotional truth has resulted in a gratuitous wealth of terrific music, and his 13th solo album, Night Surfer, comes out in September. Until then, 2012's Temple Beautiful is more than enough to tide me over: That album's "Museum of Broken Hearts" and "Willie Mays Is Up at Bat" are marvelous evergreens, full of sadness and life and regret and hope. Prophet's one of America's best living songwriters, up there with Jason Isbell and David Dondero and Willy Vlautin. Peter Buck guested on Night Surfer, so if he's in town, maybe he'll come out for a song or two. NED LANNAMANN
August 9, 2014
@ McCabe's Guitar Shop
Chuck Prophet & the Mission Express
8:00 p.m. June 27 @ McCabe's Guitar Shop
On his new album, Temple Beautiful, Chuck Prophet takes listeners on a musical travelogue through the city of San Francisco. With homages to Willie Mays and Harvey Milk and references to Jim Jones and the old Mission District, Prophet is clearly celebrating the vanishing, virtually mythic, classic incarnation of the city, long before it turned into a soulless yuppie enclave. Joined by such quintessential Bay Area musicians as the Flamin' Groovies' Roy Loney and Tubes drummer Prairie Prince, Prophet duets with his vocalist wife, Stephanie Finch, and segues from jangling power-pop anthems ("Castro Halloween") to austere ballads ("Museum of Broken Hearts"). Backed by the aptly named Mission Express, the singer also brings along a string section tonight to cast aloft dreamy tracks such as "He Came From So Far Away."
— By Falling James
June 24, 2014
Chuck Prophet never needed a revival
by Jason Cohen
The Paisley Underground revival is upon us. The Dream Syndicate, the Rain Parade and the Three O'Clock have all returned this year. Mazzy Star, led by Rain Parade co-founder David Roback, is back with a new single. And the Bangles have been reunited since 2003. Then there's Chuck Prophet, an antidote to both nostalgia and such pigeonholes. All the term "Paisley Underground" ever really meant in 1982—if it meant anything at all—was, "look, a bunch of post-punk bands who also still like classic rock and folk and psychedelia and songwriting!" And while the LA/Arizona band that Prophet played in, Green on Red, also reunited briefly in 2006, he's been making solo records out of San Francisco for two decades plus, a rich and ragged catalog of music you could summarize by saying, "look, a post-punk kid who also still likes classic rock and folk and psychedelia and songwriting!"... and Memphis soul and glam and cosmic country and whatever else you might call rock 'n' roll. An equally magnetic singer, songwriter and lead guitarist, the 50-year-old Prophet has been particularly prolific in the past five years, putting out two records under his own name (2009's ¡Let Freedom Ring! and last year's Temple Beautiful), plus one by his bandmate, spouse and ace-in-the-hole Stephanie Finch (2010's Cry Tomorrow). There were also two collaborations with Austin's Alejandro Escovedo—Prophet co-wrote some of last year's Street Songs of Love, and co-wrote and played guitar on all of 2008's Real Animal (that record's quasi-hit, "Always a Friend," is a staple of both mens' set, as well as a song Escovedo has played live with Bruce Springsteen a few times). On top of that, Prophet co-fronted a Clash cover band, the Spanish Bombs (taking the Strummer role) and landed his song "You Did (Bomp Shooby Dooby Bomp)" over the closing credits of an episode of "True Blood." Like a ballplayer who's not a superstar but makes the lineup every game and still plays on a winter team in Mexico, Prophet never stops working. He does it because the constant action (and variety) make him a better artist and because, well, that's the only way to make a living playing music in this day and age. When they take the stage on Sunday afternoon at the River City Roots Festival, Chuck Prophet and the Mission Express will have played 22 shows in August, including a Thursday-Friday-Saturday swing from Big Sky to Great Falls and back to Bozeman.
- Chuck Prophet's band Green on Red was associated with the Paisley Underground in the 1980s, but it's his solo albums that have made him a lasting artist.
You'll still find "(formerly of Green on Red)" next to Prophet's name more than occasionally, which at this point is like saying "(ex-Nirvana)" of the Foo Fighters' Dave Grohl, or putting "(from the Yardbirds)" on an Eric Clapton poster. It's true, but incomplete. Prophet's own website has the right perspective, listing the Green on Red catalog under "side projects" on the discography page. GoR broke up in 1992; Prophet's second solo album, Balinese Dancer, was released in 1993. At the time, it was actually a little shocking that such a good guitarist was also such an appealing, multi-faceted singer-songwriter and frontman. It's even more shocking that I'm still listening to him in 2013. Undeniable truth: If 90 percent of all musicians only ever made three records, we'd be missing out on nothing. But Prophet's last two records, No. 9 and No. 10 respectively, may well be the best of his career, which, after 30 years, including 20 solo, is a rare thing to achieve, and something you can't even say about Springsteen or Bob Dylan. And comparing Prophet to Springsteen feels increasingly appropriate. He covered "For You" while touring behind ¡Let Freedom Ring!, which the Village Voice called "a Born in the USA for our time," and his tastes are similarly ecumenical, if more punk rock (read: better). But what really stands out is the sense of showmanship. Earlier this month in Philadelphia, Prophet sprinkled "Willie Mays Is Up At Bat" with an entertaining mid-song yammer about the inferiority of soccer (and cricket) to baseball. "Ladies and gentlemen, I don't have to explain to you what's going on right about now ... We play this song in [the United Kingdom] and they don't know what's going on! ... In [soccer], it's a lot like our Giants, there's a good chance that you can watch an entire game and neither team will score a point!" It's as kitschy a verbal riff as Bruce's storytelling, sans the teleprompter, but almost certainly repeated other nights. It then explodes into a Thin Lizzyesque guitar duel (if you don't mind Internet spoilers, you can listen to it and the whole show, which also features an especially raging "Cortez the Killer"-style "You Did" at archive.org). And this carnival barker persona is nothing new. "Ladies and gentlemen, step right this way," Prophet sang way back on his debut album, 1990's Brother Aldo. You still should.
(Concert Review) Chuck Prophet, Club Helsinki Hudson, 8.10.13
Chuck Prophet Club Helsinki Hudson Hudson, N.Y. Saturday, August 10, 2013 Review by Seth Rogovoy (HUDSON, N.Y.) – For those who perennially need their faith restored that rock 'n' roll music can be intelligent and entertaining, thoughtful and fun, Chuck Prophet comes around at least once a year to demonstrate that it can and does, as he did on Saturday night to Club Helsinki Hudson. With the expert assistance of his five-piece band, the Mission Express, featuring his wife, Stephanie Finch – "the brains behind pa," as he puts it — on keyboards and backup vocals, Prophet played a generous set of his smart, catchy brand of rootsy rock that, importantly, never draws too much attention to itself nor takes itself too seriously.
It did, however, please the brain and the ears – as well as the part of you that makes you want to dance. There are lessons to be learned here. Aspiring rockers may want to study Prophet's stage performance, as well as his songcraft, to see how it all gets put together in the post-Beatles, post-modern era. Prophet entertains with a bemused nonchalance that belies an awesome talent. His songs – drawing equally on blues, country, pop, and soul — range from cinematic stories to sociocultural critique to confessional heartbreak, but always with a clever narrative strategy. His narrators could well be the spawn of Randy Newman's narrators, and like that elder master of pop irony, he gives voice to them with a jaded, arch delivery that is as much persona as it is personable. That he doesn't look the part, also much like Newman, also makes his live shows even more of a treat.
Chuck Prophet at SPACE
In some parallel dimension Chuck Prophet is a star, though for the real-world fans he's amassed over the past three decades, beginning with his stint in Green on Red through his well-regarded solo career, he may as well already be one. Certainly Prophet stands as a revered writer's writer, earning the respect of such peers as Lucinda Williams and Alejandro Escovedo—the latter's last three records were cowritten with Prophet.
One wonders whether Escovedo's pronounced trips down memory lane partly inspired Prophet's latest, Temple Beautiful, a tribute to his San Francisco roots that's populated with figures both familiar and forgotten, from Willie Mays, murdered politician Harvey Milk and legendary stripper Carol Doda to an ode to the colorful characters gathered to watch the annual Castro Street Halloween parades. The music itself combines the provincial street poetry of Lou Reed with roots-riffs and the jangle of power-pop, all propelled with a passion and soul that lifts the project well past its personal scrapbook blueprint. And that's really the gift of a great storyteller: to make memories public, to make friends out of strangers, to take something specific and transform it into something universal. Or, in the case of the oblique AIDS chronicle "Museum of Broken Hearts," to turn the tragic, dirty or damaged into something beautiful.
In ‘Temple Beautiful,’ Chuck Prophet reflects on his Bay Area home
Chuck Prophet's catalogue is overflowing with insightful character studies, jangle-pop perfection and energetic barroom rockers. And that accounts for just some of the songs he has written, recorded and forgotten. In his 25-plus-year career, the 49-year-old has established himself as a minor god in the roots-rock pantheon — a sharp, prolific singer-songwriter who always seems to have a new batch of tunes ready to go.
Prophet didn't have to look far for inspiration for his new album — it was all around him. "Temple Beautiful" is a tribute to Prophet's longtime home of San Francisco. As Prophet and songwriting partner Kurt Lipschutz were working on new material, the idea of a San Francisco-centric album dawned on them, and they went with it. They had secluded themselves in an Internet-free zone, so there was no digging for details and the album is more interpretive history than history lesson.
"We couldn't really research anything, so we started leaning on the more mythical side of things," Prophet says of the songwriting process. "You get to have fun with the characters. In the case of Willie Mays, we put him in a song with a bunch of people that he would never be caught dead with."
Prophet is referring to the song "Willie Mays Is Up at Bat," which serves as a tidy centerpiece to an album that marks another creative high point in his career.
"I hear the church bells ring, Willie Mays is up at bat / I hear the crowd go wild, all he did was touch his hat / Meanwhile Carol Doda stood up and said I won't be ignored / She showed 'em everything she had then she showed 'em all a little more," goes the first verse, placing the baseball Hall of Famer in the same company as the famous 1960s Bay Area stripper.
From there, notorious cult leader Jim Jones interacts with legendary concert promoter Bill Graham. There are more peeks into the seedier corners of town before the song ends with a Thin Lizzy-level guitar flourish. It's the kind of tune that has become synonymous with Prophet — a rollicking story-song with lyrics both wistful and funny and no shortage of impressive guitar runs.
Prophet's career began in the mid-'80s when he joined Green on Red, then one of the leading bands in a robust L.A. psychedelic pop scene. In the early '90s, Prophet embarked on a solo career that has put him in a place where he's neither a household name nor in danger of toiling in obscurity. The likes of Bob Dylan, Alex Chilton and Tom Waits may be obvious influences, but Prophet also cites Woody Allen as an inspiration for his auteurism and devotion to making a new film each year. Prophet similarly keeps chugging along. And although at this point songwriting seems to be second nature, he's still thrilled when a new creation comes to fruition.
"I try to explain what it's like to just be addicted to the buzz of wrestling a song to the ground," Prophet says. "And that's what it is, a buzz. And as soon as I do get a song to behave and it's a good song, I'm pretty depressed after that. I never really know where the next one's coming from. I think I understand the craft. . .but the [last] part of the process is the mystery — what makes someone want to listen to it again?"
"Temple Beautiful" is overstuffed with songs worthy of repeat listens. It also serves as an ideal gateway into what can be a daunting discography. The title track (named after the old punk club where Prophet saw life-changing gigs, including the Dead Kennedys) is a boisterous roadhouse rocker with sax blasts and hand claps. "Castro Halloween" is a shimmering slice of guitar pop that Wilco fans should love. If this isn't the best album of Prophet's career, it's definitely one of the most invigorating. And he has San Francisco to thank.
"I've been lucky enough to travel around playing music," he says, "and I just always look forward to coming home."
Green On Red man’s ode to San Francisco
Temple Beautiful – Yep Roc
Green On Red man's ode to San Francisco
The city by the bay, a radical outpost and rich source of urban myth and legend, provides a fine springboard for the ever buoyant Prophet here. Titled after the long-since defunct punk rock club where he earned his stripes, Temple Beautiful provides a home for the many musical genres Chuck has explored since then.
With songs combining wry world weariness, affectionate homage and emotional depth, the singularly sumptuous production makes Museum of Broken Hearts' valediction for the AIDS epidemic a standout, but the pleasures are abundant.
The title track manages to combine Stones in the honky tonk groove with a crafty Ramones tribute and Willie Mays Is Up To Bat is what The Replacements might have sounded like, had they been able to stay together and get into a Dylan influenced late period. A heroic all round smash and grab raise on rebel rock across the generations. Well played, Sir.
Spirited homage to the City by the Bay; Flamin’ Groovie Roy pitches in.
Spirited homage to the City by the Bay; Flamin' Groovie Roy pitches in.
After dabbling in everything from swamp-pop to hip-hop – not to mention his verbatim London Calling tour – renaissance-rocker Prophet literally brings it all back home on Temple Beautiful, a dozen beautifully melodic, razor-sharp guitar-pop elegies to his 'Frisco roots. Mythological in scope, soulful in execution – tracking everything from the city's vaunted musical history to baseball star Willie Mays and madman/murderer Jim Jones, it's a feast of contextual songwriting and sizzling guitar. The piercing "Castro Halloween" and the NY Dolls-style rave-up title cut jump out first, but the whole lot is first rate.
Chuck Prophet: If it's Tuesday, it must be...Helsinki?
Actually, I think he's in Oslo on Tuesday. Yep, Chuck Prophet has left the building, split town, crossed the state line and fled the country ... all the way to Europe, where he's touring in support of his brand spanking new release, Temple Beautiful (Yep Roc Records). He'll be performing solo, opening up for the Jayhawks on a short, nine city blitz, but returns to Europe in April for 31 headlining dates with the full Mission Express band, featuring the eternally cheerful Stephanie Finch (Chuck's wife) on keyboards and vocals, James DePrato on guitar, Rusty Miller on bass and "never quite sure" on drums. Not that unusual for Prophet to venture across the Atlantic, where he's developed quite a following since his 1980s "Paisley Underground" days, fronting Green on Red.
Unless you've spent the past couple of months sequestered in a seedy Pacheco motel room, you're probably aware that Prophet and the Mission Express (named after a San Francisco bus line) played six Sunday night shows during their recent Armando's residency. Each concert was expectedly unpredictable, whether the band was road testing new tunes or pulling out the irresistible pairing of Chuck's chilling bible and bullhorn preacher feature, "Automatic Blues" and Neil Young's big spike classic, "Motorcycle Mama," starring Finch as Nicolette Larsen. It was fascinating to witness Prophet and reformed hair metal guitar prodigy -- now double necked slide hero -- Deprato, adroitly switch off between lead and rhythm. I hear things got a little hot and sweaty towards the end of the sold out two month run, with disheartened fans being turned away at the door. But don't fret if you missed out, because I have a strong feeling our Prophet will return. After all, it appears a musical free love society has blossomed between Chuck, Roy Jeans and the patrons of his Marina Vista nightspot.
Prophet turns 49 this year, but at an age when most recording artists have long passed their creative peak and are coasting on autopilot, Chuck defies the norm by actually improving with age. His previous album, Let Freedom Ring! (2009), was a paranoia fueled masterpiece, recorded under chaotic circumstances (swine flu epidemic, earthquakes, power outages and "policia" hassles) in the bustling metropolis of Mexico City. And while a new Chuck Prophet CD is usually a cause for celebration, I'd been anticipating the Feb. 7 release of Temple Beautiful with some degree of trepidation. After all, how does one fashion a worthy successor to the alt-rock equivalent (reasonably close anyways) of Abbey Road (The Beatles), Blonde on Blonde (Bob Dylan) or Exile on Main Street (Rolling Stones)? The Beatles responded to their success by breaking up, Dylan fell off his motorcycle, and The Stones stuck a goat's head in a soup pot.
In retrospect, I really had nothing to worry about, since Prophet attacks each new project by applying his typical "nothing to lose" attitude. You can't go wrong when you have the ability/gift to consistently craft timeless tunes, à la Paul Westerberg, Alex Chilton and "On the Beach" era Neil Young. Plus, you have an exceptionally potent combination when you add Prophet's razor sharp Telecaster guitar skills (think Keith Richards meets the twin guitar assault of The Clash and Television) and his haunting, slightly cynical Alt-Petty vocal drawl (take two thirds cup Tom Petty, add a pinch of Jim Morrison, a dash of Dylan, blend well and bake at 375 degrees until crispy on top).
Temple Beautiful (his 12th CD) is named after a long defunct music venue -- oddly shoehorned between The Fillmore and Reverend Jim Jones' People's Temple -- where a precocious Prophet caught seminal punk acts like Black Flag and The Dead Kennedys. The album mines a similar alt-indie-punk-pop-soul-folk-blues-country-rock (here-to-after referred to simply as rock) vein as earlier releases, although instead of Freedom's shattered American Dream, the lyrics pertain to various people, places and things associated with the bohemian city in which he resides -- or as Chuck puts it, "a love letter to the town where I grew up ... San Francisco."
High points of the new record include the slashing, "You Really Got Me" guitar burst of title track ("Temple Beautiful"), the poignantly rocking ode to "the freakiest most beautiful celebration" ever ("Castro Halloween") and the Cain and Able-like brotherly love story between Jim and Artie Mitchell ("The Left Hand and the Right Hand"). All three conjure up vivid images that will have you singing in the shower and humming in your dreams, both day and night.
Every track contains numerous examples of Prophet's piquant wit, whether he's discussing Carol Doda in "Willie Mays is up to Bat" ("She showed them everything she had, then she showed them all a little more"), the frailty of art and human emotions in "Museum of Broken Hearts" ("Some of them are permanent, some have come and gone / some are just too delicate to move") or a night of tragedy in "Castro Halloween" ("When the shots rang out and two men died, you took off your mask just to see me cry").
Prophet and Yep Rock Records decided to promote the album by organizing a San Francisco bus tour/record release party, hosted by long time KFOG radio personality, Peter Finch (no relation to Stephanie). However, this was clearly not your typical corn on the cob fed Nebraskan über tour bus excursion, as confirmed by Prophet's claim that participants would see, "The liquor store where Janis Joplin purchased her first bottle of Southern Comfort." Following a jaunt through the city, revelers were dropped off at an 18th and Capp St. warehouse and treated to a Mission Express concert, with special guests Kelley Stoltz and John Doe (X). Yep Roc generously provided the free Mexican food and two kegs of beer -- no tip jar in sight.
Well, the verdict is in: it's a pretty damn good record -- perhaps even better than Freedom. And if there was any justice (hah!) in this world, Temple Beautiful would go multi-platinum and the title track would be a number one smash hit! But alas, the Prophet freight train will continue to chug along as just another fairly well kept secret. And though he's accumulated a fair sized collection of faithful followers, in order to pay the utility bills he augments his income through songwriting and strategic television placement. In recent years, Prophet has written for, collaborated with and had songs covered by a wide range of artists, including Alejandro Escovedo, Dan Penn, Solomon Burke and country music stars Kelly Willis and Cyndi Thompson. One composition in particular, "No Other Love," was covered twice, by the classic rock group Heart and by Michael Grimm, winner of America's Got Talent (2010). As for television, Prophet's "You Did" appeared on the season two soundtrack to HBO's True Blood and his "Love Won't Keep us Apart" was heard on Sons of Anarchy (FX).
So, the next time you need a break from watching high-def TV, or downloading the latest G4 App, and want to hear a really good album from one of the last purveyors of original rock music, hop on down to your local Rasputin Records and purchase the new Chuck Prophet CD, Temple Beautiful. Or better yet, make audiophile Chuck truly happy and pick it up on 180 gram vinyl -- free poster while supplies last.
a witty, gritty style that simply goes unmatched
San Francisco singer/songwriter/producer Chuck Prophet makes a mighty follow-up to 2009's Let Freedom Ring! With Temple Beautiful, his 12th studio album. Well-known as a co-founder of Paisley Underground head honchos Green On Red, Prophet lives up to his last name with a witty, gritty style that simply goes unmatched. TB, named after a long-defunct punk rock club, is packed with Prophet's unmistakeable style, and features special guests such as Red Man, Dan White, Flamin' Groovies vocalist Roy Loney, and a passel of highly talented soul mates. TB kicks off with the driving, fiery rocker ""Play That Song Again,"- a number that causes the listener do just that. "Castro Halloween" weeps and bleeds out a memorable, rough ballad- all bells and whistles intact. " The title cut is a catchy hand-clapper with Chuck's trademark "shooby doo wahs" and a memorable tale of unrequited love. "Museum Of Broken Hearts" slows the pace and shares his deepest fantasies, "Willie Mays Is Up At Bat" recalls a personal tale of the past over slithering slide guitar, while "I Felt Like Jesus" is an urban toe-tapper of the highest order. "Who Shot John" recalls Johnny Cash- a musical journey through crime, hard times, and righteous rhythms. "Little Girl, Little Boy"is an upbeat duet with Chuck's partner Stephanie Finch, and slams out like a `50's jukebox standard- replete with bouncy piano, danceable decadence, and revved-up horns. "White Night, Big City" collects all of the album's highlights to perfection, and the disc closes with the mystical, spiritual slice of lust and loneliness that is "Emperor Norton In The Last Year Of His Life (1880)" which neatly ties the whole affair together; bow and all. A must-have for fans, and an effort that should be heard globally. Sublime.
Temple Beautiful paints a vivid, romantic picture of the San Francisco demimonde
Chuck Prophet's 12th solo album is a love letter to San Francisco (though only the most well-informed locals will catch every reference). Not only does the longtime Bay Area resident pepper his tunes with classic local characters like Mission district oddball Red Man and self-proclaimed world leader Emperor Norton I, but he also sets each story-song amid the city's lost cultural landmarks. Characters wander through the Albion bar, fall in love at the Temple nightclub, commune with carnival attraction Laffing Sal, and teeter atop high heels at the Castro Halloween Parade. Meanwhile, his band -- which includes such local luminaries as the Flamin' Groovies' Roy Loney, the Tubes' Prairie Prince, and Prophet's wife, Stephanie Finch -- wraps Prophet's Tom Petty-esque vocals in an anachronistic style of rock that fits the songs as snugly as fishnet stockings. The title tune evokes the rough-and-rowdy strut of Mott the Hoople, with its honking sax, plinky piano, and chugging guitars, while the serrated riffs of "Play That Song Again" recall Prophet's work in the '80s Paisley Underground scene with Green on Red. The occasional luridness of the material may give the stiffs at the Chamber of Commerce pause, but Temple Beautiful paints a vivid, romantic picture of the San Francisco demimonde.
Chuck Prophet Takes Fans and Famous Guests on a Musical Bus Tour of San Francisco
Chuck Prophet and Guests
Feb. 7, 2012
Better than: Going broke at any nearby Mission District restaurant.
To commemorate yesterday's release of his new album, Temple Beautiful, S.F. singer-songwriter Chuck Prophet and Yep Roc Records treated about 40 fans to a guided bus tour of San Francisco last night, followed by an intimate set at The Catacombs with Prophet and an impressive array of guests. The motif of the tour was intended to coincide with the thematic spirit of Temple Beautiful, an appreciation of San Francisco's local lore and unusual history.
Unconventional promotion is not entirely new to Prophet. (We seem to recall a taco cart outside Café Du Nord at an earlier album launch.) But the elaborate bus tour, which took attendees to various San Francisco locales chosen by Prophet, was a particularly earnest and unique gesture, especially considering it was free.
The tour was hosted partly by KFOG/KGO radio personality Peter Finch, who first took us to Treasure Island to gaze at Marco Cochrane's 40-foot tall sculpture of a naked woman with San Francisco's skyline in the background. Since Finch didn't appear to have much of a prepared script, he engaged passengers in a playful banter about San Francisco's landmarks and history, with a focus on its most bizarre and unsung qualities. Between chats, Finch played songs by Garland Jeffreys and The Flamin' Groovies that inspired Temple Beautiful, along with songs from the album and prerecorded commentary from Prophet himself. Despite some awkward pauses and difficulty operating the bus's stereo system, Finch's obvious amusement with the entire evening was endearing, and his sardonic one-liners retained our attention.
After admiring some of Prophet's favorite murals in the Lower Haight, Finch commanded the bus driver to stop next to Central Market and asked passengers, "Does anyone like Southern Comfort?" When he returned from liquor store, he had indeed purchased a bottle, but he was also accompanied an older gentleman in a burgundy trench coat. As he passed the bottle of Southern Comfort, he introduced the man as Joel Selvin, pop music critic at the San Francisco Chronicle for nearly 40 years.
Selvin boisterously narrated the tour throughout the Haight district with tales of 1960s rock `n' roll debaucheries and Jimi Hendrix's fabled panhandle performance, and gave his firsthand account of the night that the original Temple Beautiful—a legendary punk venue—burned down. When the bus arrived at the top of Twin Peaks, passengers exited to take in the view. While admiring the brightly illuminated Market Street, a barrage of acoustic guitars rang out: Prophet had been lying in wait and serenaded us with an acoustic rendition of the title track from Temple Beautiful.
With Prophet and his wife accompanying us on the bus to the next location, former Avengers frontwoman Penelope Houston, whom Prophet has collaborated with in a number of capacities, recited a list of the 10 worst things that could possibly have happened on that night. But her appearance was only a taste of the guests in store for later.
The bus tour ended at The Catacombs, a warehouse venue in the Mission, where the 40-odd passengers filed in and grazed upon complimentary beer and snacks. The unconventional space was densely decorated with art, candles, and red velvet flourishes, but the sound was comparable to any other local, professional venue. Prophet's initial set drew exclusively from his newest record, and with a map of San Francisco draped behind the band, it couldn't have been a more thematically cohesive performance.
Prophet has assembled an extremely tight band, and they demonstrated their proficiency right away with "Willie Mays is up at Bat," which ends in triumphant dual guitar leads. "White Night, Big City," the single from the new album, is perhaps the mellowest song on it, with its simplistic, cute keyboard pitter-patter. But it deals with the some of the heaviest subject matter: the assassination of George Moscone and Harvey Milk.
The backup vocals of Stephanie Finch, Prophet's wife, in her woeful, upper register, provided a pleasant foil for Prophet's impassioned delivery, and songs like "Little Boy, Little Girl" in which she was featured prominently, stood out as some of the evening's finest moments.
Prophet's selection of The Flamin' Groovies hit, "Shake Some Action" as a soundtrack to the drive earlier in the evening proved to be heavy-handed foreshadowing as well. Roy Loney, the Groovies front man, took the stage with Prophet and performed three songs from the early Flamin' Groovies catalog. The joyous atmosphere became ecstatic during Loney's brief appearance, both on stage and off.
It was truly a Yep Roc-centric evening. Kelley Stoltz took stage to perform two of his own songs, followed by Prophet's band playing Stephanie Finch originals with her on guitar and lead vocals. But the arrival of John Doe was particularly shocking. He performed one song off his last solo album, Keeper, with Prophet in raucous accompaniment, and then left the stage.
With an ironically chosen cover of Iggy Pop's "I'm Bored" as an encore, the show was through, and an elaborate, unique rock `n roll album release event was concluded. At one point in the set, Prophet summarily described the impetus behind such elaborate festivities with the observation, "It's good to make records that aren't about yourself. That way, you can have a really good time promoting it."
Chuck Prophet's Setlist
Willie Mays is up at Bat
Who Shot John
White Night, Big City
I Felt Like Jesus
Little Boy, Little Girl
With Roy Loney
A Hundred Miles
Not since Lou Reed paid homage to the city and era that forged him with New York has there been a song cycle dedicated to a place and reality that offers the core immediacy with the thump, churn and ferocity of Chuck Prophet's Temple Beautiful. It's a stripped-down rock `n' roll record where the drums pump and echo, guitars slash and buzz, horns squawk like geese with rhythm, and the former wunderkind of progressive cosmic cowboys Green On Red bristles with an intensity that makes great rock burn.
More than anything—even the punk aggression, the unadorned arrangements that slice to the core, the voice that tears through layers of guitars, bass and drums—there's a far-flung Americana at work. Named for Jim Jones' San Francisco-based temple, the title track is all marching band pound-down, while the strummy electric guitar-basted "Castro Halloween" evokes the sweetness of Alex Chilton's power-pop and the promise of holidays burning off to leave the wistfulness of what is. The post-Western "I Felt Like Jesus" is equal parts Clint Eastwood and Azetec Radio, xylophone flourishes popping around the melody.
Noir machismo that's so pulp West Coast pushes the flat rock of "Who Shot John," and the Paisley Underground scene of LA in the '80s sweeps through the character sketch "He Came From So Far Away," ethereal background vocals falling in sheets and whispering the details of an illusionary life that may or may not be what is presented.
It is the details that make Prophet explode. Loping through a strtaight-forward midtempo— lacerated with bits of twangy guitar—of "Willie Mays Is Up At Bat," it's an afternoon painted vividly, a conflict torqued and bravado bristling in the seemingly ordinary moment. Not quite Bukowski, the tale has a beat poetry sensibility that honors San Francisco's City Lights Bookstore, and enough rising and falling "ohhhhOOOhhhoooHHHohOH" chorus to make Legionnaires of us all.
That is Prophet's vexation: maintaining the innocence in the knowing. "Little Girl, Little Boy"—featuring wife Stephanie Finch—is pure '50s swoon via Ramones nostalgia to keep it from Sha-Na-Na-ery. Even more retrofit is "White Night, Big City" that scrapes Blondie-esque punk doowop for its essence.
Still, it's Lou Reed who keeps flickering. With the pounding, half-barked "Play That Song Again," it's a more likable "Sweet Jane"/"Walk On The Wild Side" hybrid, also suggesting Alejandro Escovedo's Real Animal, which Prophet co-wrote—and the slow-mourn blues of "Emperor Norton" that is an unsentimental caution, Prophet channels Reed's pervasive urban edge without overwhelming his own voice.