Results tagged “rb”

The past few months have seen Mr. “Wes C. Addle”—Eddie Vedder—looking more like Mr. Tinseltown than just another (incredibly talented) Easy Street customer. Times don’t look like they’ll be a-changin’ in 2008.

From the PI this morning: "Three shot inside Capitol Hill club." Apparently, a fight broke out on Sugar's dance floor around 1:30am; three people were injured, and police aren't saying much more than that. Someone was firing a gun the club, so this isn't one of those ambiguous cases of violence within fifty feet of the club doors. The night's event was Sin Sunday, an 18/21+ weekly event featuring a DJ spinning hip-hop and R&B mash-ups.

The Detroit Cobras make hard-rocking versions of R&B and soul classics utterly devoid of irony. On their latest album, this year's Tied and True, the female-fronted Motor City five-piece run the gamut, covering such greats as Bettye LaVette, Leadbelly, Tammi Terrell, The Equals, and Little Willie John.

One of our good film friends recently saw a preview screening of Superbad. When we asked him his opinion after the fact, he replied that it was "funny because it’s stupid," just what we'd expect for a movie about high school boys. In fact, the movie was also kinda written by high school boys: Seth Rogan (he of newly acquired Knocked Up fame) and Evan Goldberg started on the Superbad script when they were just fourteen years old. That--along with the heartfelt performances by Christopher Mintz-Plasse, Jonah Hill, and dear sweet Michael Cera--must be what gives the coming-of-age comedy all its authenticity and earnestness and verisimilitude and shit.

For the time being, we've been able to sate our Superbad desires by watching nine million clips on YouTube, as well as here. But never fear - the randy reworking of the teen coming-of-age comedy (from most of the folks who got you Knocked Up) opens in theaters everywhere August 17th. Get ready for all the awkward high school hijinks with a Superbad prizepack, containing a t-shirt, hat, poster, and a copy of the movie's funk/R&B/soul-heavy soundtrack. Just fill out the form below for your chance to win. No worries: Your info is safe with us and will not be shared with advertisers and/or the government, yadda yadda yadda. We'll be drawing three winners on Friday.

To mark Stevie Wonder’s first tour in a decade and his stop at the Chateau Ste Michelle Winery down the road in Woodland, our compadres over at The Seattle Times invited its readers take their "Stevie Wonder Quiz" in their Monday edition. Having fond memories of one Stevland Hardaway Judkins as this funky white blog’s first introduction to Motown, funk and the ever –ambiguous “R&B”, Seattlest curiously accepted The Times’ challenge to find out just how well we know Stevie.

That said, while 25-year-old Brazilian Céu [myspace] is what's known in some circles as a "smokin' hottie," the metaphorical orgy we're talking about includes the whole band: Bruno Buarque (percussion), Lucas Martins (bass and guitar), Serginho Machado (percussion), Guilherme Ribeiro (keyboard), and DJ Marco. Yep, whole band, or we just -- well, no need for ultimatums. We walked in expecting Brazilian samba, and we got so much more: soul and R&B, "afrobeat" and "electrojazz," two genres we treat with quotes to indicate: "existence, our shocking ignorance of." They are good words, though, so we'll use them. On ballads, Céu might sound a little like Sade (okay, with more vocal agility); but "Concrete Jungle" [listen at myspace] sounds like Jimmy Cliff singing with a '70s funk back-up band. She kept encouraging the Triple Door audience to get up and dance and if there had been any room to do that, this crowd just might have. We kept coming back to the bass lines the tunes hung on, the physicality of the percussion, that glorious electric organ sound. There was even a sing-along encore. Céu, come back soon.

Let's hope Carrie Underwood doesn't have some virulent STD, or the entire NFL season may have to be canceled.

Wednesday 25th

Today is National High Five Day. No, really. Sure, it's a silly observation, but Seattle needs more occasions to not take itself so seriously.

There was a time about a year ago, when we went to dinner at the Oasis Cafe for the first time, and, after receiving average food and abominable service, we vowed never to go there again. Fast forward to last night: we were hungry for sushi, while our companion for the evening was hungry for Thai. So we figured, what the hell, we'd give that pan-Asian Oasis another try. This time around, the food was good, and the service was a little bit better (though still terribly slow). We'd be willing to venture there again, but only if we had a lotta time to kill and were craving some gigantic sushi maki.

Whenever a big-time sports team gets in some serious championship contention, local radio starts playing quickie novelty songs inspired by (or exploiting) the team in question. Usually some unknown artist will give a popular song the Weird Al treatment, altering its lyrics to fit the team, and often enhancing the tracks with fake play-by-play announcers and crowd cheers. The earliest example we recall is “Husky Fever,” adapted from "Boogie Fever,” the Sylvers’ #1 disco hit from 1976. It was played incessantly on local radio as the Huskies approached their 1978 Rose Bowl victory, and it’s still a staple of the UW marching band.

Cole me down on the panny sty.

There's often a snobbish stigma attached to cover bands. Some such outfits focus on a specific genre, or era, or simply the lowest-common denominator. Others pay tribute to a single band or individual. Transcending 'em all are the Detroit Cobras, who, Tuesday at Chop Suey, will surely kick some election-night ass.

Seattle is known for grunge and always will be, no matter how much we might want the world to know we've moved on. Detroit is a bit less pigeon-holed, but they've earned that distinction through extraordinary musical breadth, impacting rock, R&B, industrial, techno, electro, and ghettotech along with other genres too numerous to mention. Over the next few days Seattle gets to benefit from Detroit's electronic legacy, with two shows guaranteed to move a crowd.