Reviews

by Michael Doherty
link to full article

I’ve decided to do my best to avoid giving even another dollar to the greedy music-devouring demon known as Ticketmaster/Live Nation. My focus will be on smaller venues, more intimate music experiences. And what stronger antidote to Live Nation is there than a house concert? And when the band is I See Hawks In L.A., well, things just couldn’t be much better all round. Last night the Hawks gathered in Sierra Madre to deliver two wonderful sets in a back yard that became one of the coolest venues I’ve been to recently. There was a great, inviting and relaxed vibe about the place, sort of how I always imagined my back yard would be if I could ever afford to own a home.

To start the evening, Victoria Jacobs did a short set of mostly new songs. Apparently, she’s not only been writing new material, but recording as well. So I am hopeful there will be a CD release in the near future. If the songs she played last night are an indication of her direction, then it is going to be a powerful and moving and personal album. “Trying to live my life without you/It’s not easy to do,” she sang in her first song of the set. Her set was approximately twenty minutes, ending at 7:20 p.m.

Ten minutes later, the whole band was on stage. There was a short delay as Paul Marshall rearranged a couple of things. While he was doing so, Rob Waller told the story of a show a long while back in Pasadena where the entire band nearly got electrocuted and their amps were fried. He then explained that just now Paul had gotten a little shock from his vocal microphone and so was creating a grounding system. It was the briefest of delays, and within a minute, perhaps two, they were ready to give it a go. Paul joked, “Tell me if my lips light up.” They began the show with “Hope Against Hope,” a perfect choice to open the set, to put things in motion. I was digging Paul’s bass line, and Dan Wistrom delivered a really nice lead on pedal steel. Dan then switched to electric guitar for “White Cross.” It’s interesting to me how sometimes different lines from a song will stand out to you, or hit you in some way. From songs you’ve heard many times, I mean. For example last night from “White Cross,” it was these: “Well, the good times didn’t suit me/I had to taste the pain.” And for a moment I thought of how certain people can’t seem to accept when things are good, when things are actually going their way.

The band then delivered an especially fun rendition of “Poour Me,” Paul Marshall counting the others in. “Coming in on the one,” he reminded them. Dan was back on pedal steel for that one. “Pour me more wine.” And indeed, Paul Marshall had a little more wine after that song. They followed that with “If I Move,” with Rob Waller first saying, “You know, if you live in Los Angeles, and you’ve lived here a while, you can’t really afford to move anymore.” At the end of that song, Dan Wistrom was adjusting his microphone stand, and Rob joked, “We gave Dan the ‘new guy’ stand.” There was then some joking about Paul Marshall’s secret family in Burbank, and the band went into “Highway Down.” Dan had switched to electric guitar for this song. This is still one of my personal favorites, and I saw I wasn’t the only one singing along. Then during “Live And Never Learn,” the song suddenly became funky in the middle there, thanks to Paul’s bass work. It was a delightful surprise. I know I’ve said before that one indication that a concert is something special is if there are several musicians in the audience, and such was the case last night. Rob even mentioned that half of Old Californio was there.

Paul sang lead on his “Truth Is You Lied,” a song that he included on his Weed And Water album, and one that was another highlight of the set. Victoria Jacobs then sang lead on “Kensington Market,” a totally enjoyable song. For some reason, the line about the mods hanging around delighted me. Again, different lines from the songs were striking me last night, and I just felt completely immersed in the music and mood of the evening. It was a beautiful spot, among good folks, and with one of the best bands playing. Dan switched to pedal steel for “Still Want You,” delivering a lead that received applause from the audience. I love hearing this song, in part because of its humor, in part because of its sweet vibe. “Please love me if you can.” The first set then concluded with the always-appreciated “Good And Foolish Times.” The set ended at 8:30 p.m.

Just after 9 p.m., they kicked off the second set with “Raised By Hippies,” with Dan on pedal steel. The lines that stood out to me last night were those about Reagan being president, and not knowing what to do. We are in some kind of twisted fantasy land these days with regards to the Republican Party, but one of the things that has alarmed me is that the few so-called “normal” Republicans look back to Reagan as being what their party should be striving toward again, forgetting just what a complete and total bastard that guy was, and all the harm he caused. So, yeah, I’m sure adults in the early 1980s looked around, and said, what they hell should we do? But all that played in my head for only a moment, as I was thoroughly enjoying the energy of the song. And they followed that with what was possibly the answer for many folks dealing with those Reagan years, “I Fell In Love With The Grateful Dead.” I myself fell in love with the Dead during the early 1980s. Paul Marshall dedicated the song to a guy named Art who was wearing a Grateful Dead shirt. This was Dan Wistrom’s first time playing the song, at least the first time in concert, and Rob joked about how this one has more chords than all their other songs put together. Well, it was wonderful hearing this song again, and Dan did a great job with it. “He did it!” Rob exclaimed at the end.

They followed that with “Carbon Dated Love” and “California Country.” Dan delivered some really nice work on guitar on “California Country.” And then we were treated to “Ohio,” which is always fun. Whenever I hear it, I think about where home is for me, whether it’s here now in Los Angeles or back in Massachusetts. But the music seems to tell me it doesn’t matter, that it’s all home. Still, that conversation continues for many of us, doesn’t it? Are we going to eventually go back to wherever it is we came from? The set then took a beautiful turn with “Laissez Les Bon Temps Roulet” and “Salvation,” the latter with Paul Marshall on lead vocals, and one I don’t think I’d seen these guys play since April. Glad to have back in the set list. It was then time for Victoria Jacobs to sing another one, and you could feel the excitement among the crowd, for almost everyone there knew which song was next, and folks were eager to hear it. It’s one of my girlfriend’s favorites too, and that is “My Parka Saved Me.” The band delivered an especially delightful rendition last night, with what seemed like an added backing vocal bit. There is so much about this song to love, and I hope all music fans get a chance to see the band perform this one at some point.

Rob mentioned seeing John Cougar Mellencamp, Bob Dylan and Willie Nelson at the Hollywood Bowl recently, and from the reactions of some people in the audience, I’m guessing a good portion of last night’s crowd was at that show too. The band then played Willie Nelson’s “Me And Paul,” a song that has been a part of the Hawks shows lately, done in tribute to Paul Lacques. Last night’s rendition featured lots of great pedal steel work. Rob then told the crowd the band had “one more song for you, then we’ll send you off into the Sierra Madre night.” That song was the high-energy number “Humboldt,” which rocked in all the right ways. But it was not the last song of the show. They ended it at 9:59 p.m., thinking that 10 p.m. was a strict cut-off time. But everyone was having too much fun to adhere to that, and so the band did one more, “Hippie On The Road,” fitting as the band will be hitting the road this week. The show ended at 10:04 p.m.

Set List

Set I

1. Hope Against Hope
2. White Cross
3. Poour Me
4. If I Move
5. Highway Down
6. Live And Never Learn
7. Truth Is You Lied
8. Kensington Market
9. Still Want You
10. Good And Foolish Times

Set II

1. Raised By Hippies
2. I Fell In Love With The Grateful Dead
3. Carbon Dated Love
4. California Country
5. Ohio
6. Laissez Les Bon Temps Roulet
7. Salvation
8. My Parka Saved Me
9. Me And Paul
10. Humboldt

Encore

1. Hippie On The Road

Tickets were $20 (or, rather, that was the encouraged donation amount).

link to full article

I See Hawks in L.A., On Your Way. There were the Byrds, then the Flying Burritos and a few other notable music excursions emanating from Los Angeles in the 1960s into the ’70s that really paved the road for those who followed in that Southern California realm, but no other band has found the thread like I See Hawks in L.A. Their sound might be embedded in the Hollywood Freeway, but underneath it’s really torqued by the Mojave Desert. There is something just hallucinatory enough on new songs like “Might’ve Been Me,” “Know Just What to Do” and, really, everything on this ear-opening new album that it feels like a new day of music is rising. Band members Rob Waller and brothers Paul and Anthony Lacques formed the group going on 20 years ago, of course on a desert trek, and haven’t looked back. Now featuring Paul Marshall and Victoria Jacobs as the rhythm section, there is really no one like them, still, as they mix in visions and musical veracity into a style which opens a door full of surprises right below the surface. As each album has become more and more assured, I See Hawks in L.A. has now hit that point where they’ve cut the cord on influences and are spinning out in an orbit all their own. The quartet is all breathing as one, and the clear night sky full of stars is the limit. Listen and hear not only what has come before, but what is also right around the next bend. See the Hawks.

Bill Bentley

link to article

One of Southern California’s leading alt country bands, I See Hawks in LA return with their tenth album to date, On Our Way, which is also the band’s first post-pandemic album.  Detailing a band’s lockdown practices and procedures is becoming almost obligatory in light of recent events, yet each circumstance is slightly different.  In the case of this band, Rob Waller and Paul Lacques would keep to a strict weekly songwriting schedule, adopting to Facetime one another at 4pm prompt every Friday afternoon, which seems to have done the trick.  With further assistance from band mates Victoria Jacobs and Paul Marshall, On Our Way has been developed under extraordinary circumstances, yet the results are probably better than expected.  Rather than focusing on the current crisis, the band turned to history for inspiration, honing in on such figures as Geronimo and Muhammad Ali, not to mention the odd Kentucky Jesus, who ‘knocked the Devil to the floor’ at one point.  Stylistically the band keep pretty much to their alt country, Americana and folk rock roots, with some occasional driving rhythms, gutsy blues and renegade lyricism to keep their fans happy.  The album also contains a song with a setting a few thousand miles from home, with “Kensington Market” adopting a pop sensibility that wouldn’t be too far out of place on some vintage ‘Swinging Sixties’ radio show.  I See Hawks in LA can be diverse when the mood takes them evidently.  On the subject of the old wireless, “Radio Keeps Me on the Ground (Slight Return)”, is a fine homage to those who have managed to keep us entertained during an unprecedented lockdown period.  Radio shows and online podcasts have certainly kept a good few of us on the ground over the last eighteen months.  The sprawling eight minutes of “How You Gonna Know” completes the album, where the band engage in some funky Doors-like experimental rhythms to keep us on our toes. 

Kensington Market is included in this week’s Vaults radio show.

Link to article

There is something special about I See Hawks In LA, and I don’t mean the fact that they’re a rather fine americana band. I wouldn’t be discussing their work here if I didn’t think they were. But the thing is, no matter what record you pick from their seven album discography – or is it eight? – time and again there’s this sense of warmth and conviviality just radiating from it all. Not that they’re a party outfit – on the contrary, their arrangements often require close attention – but even more than many of their colleagues from the folk and americana world, this band always makes you feel like they’ve just popped over to your place for an impromptu jam session. Their latest release On Our Way yet again captures that cosy atmosphere very well.

And that’s quite an accomplishment, because this record was created during the first phase of the corona pandemic, while the band was adhering to all the rules regarding social distancing and self-isolation. What sounds like a band playing live in the studio – almost a pre-requisite within the genre – is in reality a digital collage of parts recorded separately from each other. And that doesn’t just include the band itself, but also a whole platoon of guest musicians. The rather outstanding quality of the songs as such doesn’t hurt either, of course. But whether it’s the relaxed country of the title track, somewhat reminiscent of the late Glen Campbell, and tracks like Kentucky Jesus and If I Move, or slightly more experimental tracks like Mississippi Gas Station Blues and Kensington Market, the quartet has absolutely succeeded in matching the spontaneity of their earlier work, thanks to the miracle of modern technology.

Google-translated from Italian
link to full article

More than twenty years together, twenty years of sharing, of love for the roots, for those sounds warmed by the Californian sun that represented a breath of fresh air and good vibrations. I See Hawks In L.A. they return with a new album to reiterate how close they still are and how their captivating and fresh mix of country music, folk and American is always as simple as it is effective. The guitars of Rob Waller and Paul Lacques, the bass of Paul Marshall and the percussion of Victoria Jacobs, their songs, their musical visions are a true ode to their land and in many songs they do not disdain deep reflections on the times we are living. , on environmental emergencies and social issues, celebrating again the many miles traveled together and the multiple influences dictated by sharing the stages with people like Chris Hillman, Dave Alvin, Peter Case, Lucinda Williams and Ray Wylie Hubbard, all, in a one way or another, inspiring what their current sound is. An inevitable pinch of psychedelia pervades some of the songs of "On Our Way", as well as solid are the reminiscences related to a rough and dirty roots-rock a la Dave Alvin in the abrasive "Mississippi Gas Station Blues". Often there are 'sixties' inflections as in "Kensington Market" in which vocal space is given to Victoria Jacobs while to embellish the arrangements there are here and there the fiddle of Brantley Kearns, veteran of a thousand sessions, the accordion of Richie Lawrence and the pedal steel by Dave Zirbel, protagonist of the splendid “Geronimo”, immersed in its fascinating western atmosphere. However, there are many moments to be mentioned such as the initial "Might've Been Me" and its acoustic plots, "Kentucky Jesus", intense and poetic, "Stealing" whose melody lazily rests on the Californian sea, "If I Move ”Which refers to the past Westcoastian seasons between country and rock as well as the title track“ On Our Way ”which retraces the paths taken by the Byrds most closely tied to their roots. A record that confirms the goodness of the proposal of a band that undaunted continues a genuine and sincere musical and human journey, a journey between the ocean and the desert that continues to bewitch those who loved the mix of roots and the most contemporary sounds and continue to do so despite everything.
Remo Ricaldone

Google-translated from Dutch
link to original article

Americana, folk rock, alto. country. They are wonderful labels for a group's music. Moreover, they are recognizable labels for the curious listener. Every release of the foursome in I See Hawks In L.A. is recognizable for that reason and is received with cheers by the enthusiast.

Paul and Anthony Lacques, Victoria Jacobs and Rob Waller are much more than musicians. In 1999, I See Hawks In L.A. was founded. After a meeting in the Eastern Mojave desert and after many discussions about philosophy, environment and politics, the foursome decided to make music together. These are the themes that come up in the lyrics of the band.

The self-titled debut appeared in 1999. On Our Way will be the tenth album in 2021. In February 2020, I See Hawks In L.A. played a set at Wonder Valley Festival. The group members traveled home and were told to stay there. The pandemic! After the initial shock, the four musicians decided to get to work. Social media sometimes slows down ideas and fragments of songs, but with enough patience, eleven tracks were created for a new long player. Composers Rob Waller and Paul Lacques sat in front of the computer screen every Friday. Drummer Victoria Jacobs regularly joined in and provided input. We cranked out an albums worth of songs, said Waller.

I See Hawks In L.A. have been making music for much longer than twenty years, and with On Our Way too, the listener is given enough to think about. Mississippi Gas Station Blues is not only a blues track that starts with drummer Jacobs, but it is also a song in which the grotesque, consumptive gas consumption in America is sung and condemned. In Kentucky Jesus, the choice between religion and the military is denounced. I See Hawks In L.A. gently stirs America's meddling in problems beyond its borders.

On Our way has eleven songs for forty-eight minutes and twenty-one seconds of music. This tenth long player from a group that has scored well with critics and enthusiasts for years is a highlight in a growing oeuvre. For lovers of folk, rock and alto. country, looking for bands with the same labels, every release of I See Hawks In L.A. is a good entry point to a pleasant acquaintance. On Our Way is the next, provisional highlight in the series. (Western Seed Records)

link to full article
Recorded as individual parts and then woven together during lockdown, the Hawks return with their tenth album, one that takes their established social and eco commentaries and ups the ante in the wake of global crises of a pandemic and a political nature.

Dave Zirbel on pedal steel, it kicks off in jangly mandolin-led cosmic country style with ‘Might’ve Been Me’, about a fair and barefoot Sonoma wicca practitioner working her magic on the narrator (“She says I’m her apprentice/And yesterday she sent me/To gather bitter greens from your backyard”), keeping a Byrdsian 12-string feel for the title track, a song keening to rebirth and hope (“I don’t know/If the spring is coming/All I know is I’m on my way”).

One of the longest tracks at over six-minutes, coloured with backward guitar, caterwauling fiddle and accordion, ‘Know Just What To Do’ takes a psychedelic path for its intro before transmuting into an acoustic strummed waltztime ballad (albeit with diversion into raga midway) that, a kind of love song, again seems to be about finding direction again after feeling lost (“I walked outside, started to drive/Never wondering where I’d go/Let my hands fall off of the wheel”) by essentially surrendering to whatever forces are guiding (“When I saw your window felled up with light/I knew what I was doing had to be right”).

Things get musically dirtier with ‘Mississippi Gas Station Blues’, a lurching swamp rocker that channels Jim Morrison with its semi-spoken delivery and Dylan in the lyrics

(“You give me the Oxford Mississippi secondary gas station blues/You don’t have to love me/ But you’re gonna have to choose”) backed by hollow drums, organ and a scuzzy guitar. Musicologists will also note a reference to Morton Subotnick, the 60s pioneer of electronic music who composed ‘Silver Apples of the Moon’.

Drummer Victoria Jacobs steps up the microphone to sing lead on her self-penned ‘Kensington Market’ as they take off for 80s London, “the city of tea and scones” where “People stare/At your blue black plaited hair”, to “Get lost in the winding passages/ Check out all the crazy people/And take a look around”, the lyrics referencing mods and dub while the music and its dreamy vocals evoke the sound of British paisley 60s psychedelia by way of the Mamas and Papas. 

Back home, tapping into political protest, the largely acoustic picked countrified and, Ron Waller’s drawl recalling Steppenwolf’s John Kay, ‘Kentucky Jesus’ recalls Muhammed Ali’s 1967 defiance of the Vietnam War draft when he refused to be inducted into the army (“He’s going to take us to the promised land/And that’s why you don’t have to go to war”), keeping country and history on the table for the loping two beat acoustic twangy and pedal steel-laced ‘Geronimo’ which has the Apache chief pondering his next move against the US Army (“I’m not retreating, I’m considering direction/Crows to the south are flying scared/Hawks rises straight, and they don’t like to do that/I see the tall stone in the sand/I’m not running, I’m not crying/I’m only bending to space and time”).

Returning to present times, again big on lap steel, another love song, ‘Stealing’ recalls Gordon Lightfoot with its folksy acoustic country rock as, contemplating the divisions wrought by politics and the pandemic, Waller sings how “Down in the city we’re all getting played” and that “We gotta learn to live together”. 

Heading into the final stretch, it spreads its Byrdsian 12-string wings again with the steel-stained cosmic country of ‘If I Move’, the town’s landmarks serving a reminder of the narrator’s lost love (“Drove by the McDonalds where we decided not to get married/And the Denny’s where we said what the hell/There’s the parking lot where you told me you were pregnant”) now that she’s moved on and in with some guy in the Marina and he’s sitting in the diner and his “dreams are in the municipal garbage can”.

Paul Marshall’s grainy nasal vocals take lead for the strummed chug of ‘Radio Keeps Me On The Ground (Slight Return)’, a co-write with Great Willow’s James Combs that pays tribute to those increasingly rare radio stations and presenters (“A stranger’s voice/An invisible wind”) that buck the homogenised trend and give you something to hold on to in uncertain times.

Opening to the sound of jews harp and Jacobs desert night drums, Waller again conjuring the peyote-fuelled Jim Morrison, it ends with the eight minute drone ‘How You Gonna Know?’ a song capturing the sense of dislocation (underscored by its drum patterns, wah wah and guitar lines) as, to a tribal rhythm, Waller says “It’s a fine line/Between transitional and occluded/Between drought and beauty/Compassion and duty/Comfort and betrayal” and how “there’s no one here to tell us what to do/We’re all on our own/And we run the ridge of juniper and snow/Just to see our tomorrows” with a prayer to “Comfort me/Comfort the children/Comfort the night/Comfort the not reconciled”. It ends, though, with a note of optimism and that, while “Love is a dirty glacier/From which all rivers flow/Flow like silver/

Sink into the inevitable/Darkening as it slows”, “Singing you just might survive/Singing you might do just fine/Singing someday you’ll drink wine”. An album to uncork and drink deep.

Mike Davies