Carolyn Mark and a startled-looking Garth Johnson. Danielle Howle welcomes an ailing Hogan to the stage. A segment of Hogan's crowded, show-closing stage: McNeil, Howle, Mark, Hogan, O'Connor and Hopkins. Hopkins, Johnson and Jon Rauhouse in action.

For me, Carolyn Mark and her Room-Mates (Tolan McNeil and Garth Johnson) were the big draw this evening; although Mark has been through Chicago before with fellow Corn Sister Neko Case, this was her first time in town with McNeil and Johnson. Mark specializes in hummable country-folk-pop songs that just happen, more often than not, to be gut-bustingly funny, and her energetic performance won her a lot of fans. Culling songs from the two year-old Party Girl LP (Mint), her recent tribute to the Nashville soundtrack and, presumably, the forthcoming Terrible Hostess, Mark, McNeil and Johnson played for a riotous forty minutes; they skipped my all-time Mark favorite, "Edmonton", but turned in winning versions of "Unlisted", "Don't Come Over Baby" and others, while bounding around the Bottle's modest stage like David Lee Roth. McNeil's guitar work and Johnson's drum-brushwork were suitably impressive, and Mark maintained a steady line of chuckle- and groan-inducing patter (as well as tossing off a few provocative, rock-style high kicks). It was, by far, one of the most enjoyable performances I've seen this year (sullied only slightly by the fact that the trio gave essentially the same performance, banter and all, when I saw them at another venue the following evening).

Although I've reviewed a few of Danielle Howle's albums over the years, I haven't followed her as closely as I should have. Her latest, Skorborealis (Daemon), seems a lot more animated than I remember her -- very similar to Carolyn Mark's material in overall sound, but with more of a rock 'n' roll edge, and where Mark is often laugh-out-loud funny, Howle seems to prefer a sort of observant quirkiness. She's also quite daring -- for instance, opening her set with an a capella number that slowly but surely captured the attention of the Empty Bottle's relentlessly chatty patrons. (The Bottle, it should be noted, can be a frustrating place to play due to the sheer amount of very audible conversation that goes on while bands are playing. I noticed it more this evening than most nights, given the relatively intimate nature of this show, and it seemed like the performers did, too.)

Favoring newer material, and sharing both instruments and players with Mark, Howle tore through a lengthy but fast-moving set, peppered with winners like Skorborealis's insidiously catchy "Sneaky A.M." On stage, Howle seems artificially self-conscious and somewhat distanced from reality -- actually, I think "kooky" would probably be the best description -- but that's all part of the charm. Her set definitely had the desired effect -- had I not already had a copy of Skorborealis sitting on my desk at home, I'd certainly have bought one following the performance. (As it stands, I listened to the album several times the following day.)

Much has been written on this site about Kelly Hogan, and her performance was typically impressive. Although she'd been fighting a throat ailment for days, had canceled her previous few appearances due to ill health, and had already performed once that evening (at the record release show for Bloodshot's anti-death penalty comp The Executioner's Last Song), Hogan was in good form, welcoming this final performance of her current tour. Backed by an impressive band, including (natch) Andy Hopkins and Jon Rauhouse (but sadly, no Andrew Bird), Hogan served up such Because it Feel Good gems as "Sugarbowl", "Speedfreak Lullaby" and "Living Without You", as well as the best version of Magnetic Fields' "Papa Was A Rodeo" I've heard her do to date (and I've heard perhaps ten iterations of it). Tourmates Mark, Howle and Hogan had shared personnel all evening, so it was only natural for Hogan to end her tour, and the evening's performance, with literally everyone on stage -- Mark, Howle, their musicians, Rauhouse and Nora O'Connor. The audience was so liberally packed with scene types and well-wishers (among others, Deanna Varagona and a slightly lonely-looking Elizabeth Elmore, who seemed to want to join the other artists on stage) that Hogan could've crowded the already-packed stage even more, and in all likelihood literally brought the house down. As it stood, this was one of the coziest evenings I've spent at the Empty Bottle.

The evening's true star, however, was clearly Jon Rauhouse, long the Bloodshot scene's go-to guy for all things pedal-steel related (and he's no slouch with a banjo, either). Sharing stage time with each of the acts, Rauhouse displayed unmistakable mastery of his difficult instrument, regularly stealing the scene with his passionate -- but never showy -- performances. Among a group of artists who deserve to be more famous than they are, he invariably stands out.

Article and photos by George Zahora