The undefinable and experimental musical collaborative Califone, is undertaking an expansive and intimate series of “living room” concerts across the US and into Europe through the fall of 2024. The dates are as wide ranging as Califone’s music, taking place in galleries, public spaces, and of course people’s homes. Celebrating the release of 2023’s Villagers album and 25 years of sonic trials, Califone, named for a classic electronics manufacturer is the overture of songwriter and artist Tim Rutili. The Califone line up for these dates will be in constant flux, some evenings will present Califone as a trio, some shows as a duo, and a few concerts will spotlight a solo performance by Tim Rutili.

A musical renaissance man, Rutili is the greatest songwriter you may have never heard about. His body of work an endless wellspring of melody, experimental sounds, and poetic explorations. Rutili is a master craftsman, colliding disparate elements of found sound, imagery, riffs and poetry into prismatic wholes of creative bliss. He is also an accomplished filmmaker, mixed medium artist and his worlds often combine in the sonic skyline of Califone. As Rutili told the Rock Room, “I create things.”

Califone features a rotating cast of musical friends who help to disseminate Rutili’s creations through collective improvisation on stage and full-length records in the studio.

On August 20, 2024 Rochester, NY was lucky enough to have Califone visit The Yards Collective at the Rochester Public Market for what turned out to be a solo Tim Rutili performance. The active art gallery was the perfect location for Rutili’s imaginative musical expressionism. Whereas Califone’s records are aural flea markets of pieces, parts, and shifting arrangements, this performance stripped Rutili’s songs to their skeletal foundations focusing on his quiet desperation, ghostly unrest, and clandestine lyrical hopefulness.

Low key and loose, Rutili took to the stage at 8:00 with a rack of three guitars (Martin, Guild and Takamine) a bulging notebook, and a pedal board palette to paint sound portraits. Essentially a one-man band, over the course of the evening Rutili traveled on the edge of an artistic precipice – a place where the best things happen. You can’t hide behind an acoustic guitar and Rutili’s aural trips were active creation, in the moment and in front of an attentive live audience.

Rutili is in constant creative motion, a live wire of musical beauty and angst. When asked how a small acoustic show informed his creativity, Rutili told the rock room that live moments of free improvisation can birth new and ideas and that, “Things sometime stick,” with the possibility of becoming fertile ground for something later to be born.

With ballcap reversed on his head Rutili sat down in front of mic and pedal board with two amplifiers, one for guitar and one for vocals and coagulated the opening of the title track from the 2013 album Stitches. The dead silent crowd watched in rapt attention as Rutili gently initiated the song into a contemplative drift. Armed with his pedal rack and steel bottleneck Rutili splayed audible colors across the gallery in a vibrant soundscape.

The particled air segued into the opening track from the Stitches record, “Movie Music Kills a Kiss,” in a reversal of the albums tracklisting. “Movie Music,” contained an enveloping melody and the song emerged like the spectral image described in the opening lyric. Rutili’s voice rickety perfection, his slide working in delicate sympatico.

The first new song of the evening followed with “Halloween,” from the Villagers record. A portable radio played through Rutili’s guitar pickup offered real life static to the opening of the song. His guitar appeared from the din as he sang, “A painting of photograph of a painting of a digital file.” Dripping with psychedelic pathos Rutili then layered a stratum of sound with loops, delay and slick slide guitar all played in the moment.

A powerful triad of some of Rutili’s most enduring work followed beginning with a song from 2001’s Roomsound, “Fisherman’s Wife.” He then strapped on his Martin for a welcome reading of “All My Friends are Funeral Singers,” a song several other artists have also recorded. “Skunkish,” was a highlight of the night featuring Rutili dynamically accompanying himself through glassy licks, funky exclamations and big chording. As the song faded into smoke, Rutili freestyled lyrics before landing on the mantra “Rumble and shake, Rumble and shake.” An amazing run of music.

“Michigan Girls,” followed in a patient spacious version that focused on the words. The silence as vital as the sound as Rutili gave the song lots of room to breathe. He was unabashedly candid, dirty and open throughout the evening engaging in natural and unpretentious conversation with the audience. Topics ranged from Rocester Garbage Plates to Taylor Swift. He asked the crowd if we were “ok,” and discussed pop culture, friends and his father-in-law. At one-point Rutili humorously wondered if the smell in the air meant that Satan was near or if he was having a stroke.

After a light discussion about crack, Rutili gave us the gift of performing “Braindead,” introduced as a song he wrote when 24 years was old. The track hailed from his first band, Red Red Meat and their 1994 record Jimmywine Majestic. I feel lucky to be here.

The show continued with three Villagers songs stripped to their essence and bisected by the pulsating tension of “Porn Starlet vs Rodeo Clown from the Roomsound record. The Villagers record opener of “Hapsburg Jaw,” was given a substantial once over and featured a heavy series of jams and wire brush strumming. Once again Rutili built a far out collection of sounds from his gear, while perfectly locked into every strum and percussive knock on his acoustic. The music was multifaceted, a Polaroid of riffs slowly coming into focus, becoming tangible.

The penultimate song was “Sweetly,” played differently from its studio rendition, the airy unplugged approach allowed for a focus on the impressionistic words. The confectionary reading was humorously undermined at its conclusion with Rutili referencing its “love boat changes.”

The closing number of the evening was the title track to Villagers, a proper conclusion to the show. A Frankenstein folk song that only Tim Rutili could conceive, the song alludes to houses that are all the same, weekend warriors, a loss of identity and alienation. It was fitting that the final lyric of the night was “The sweetest forever is always and never halfway home.”

Califone’s performance at The Yards Collective provided those who were lucky enough to attend not just a concert but a human evening of music, humor, and chance. A musical space worthy of contemplation, and a space where if for only a moment ,the external worry of the outside world was put at bay. Tim Rutili’s fearless artistry, humor, and honest musicality a rarity to be cherished, and hopefully experienced again soon.

Thank you to Mark Widman from The Yards Collective for the photographs.