there's NOTHING QUITE LIKE the blinding light...

Shirley, You Can't Be Serious?

2010-01-25T20:01:00.005-06:00

Paul Shirley no longer writes music columns for ESPN. If you didn't hear, he made some controversial comments regarding the disaster situation in Haiti. I am not going to try and sum up what he wrote, but his entire post can be read here. Obviously, that did not go over well in Bristol (or in the rest of America for that matter), and he was let go less than 24 hours later. (And here is his reaction to all the hoopla.) I always enjoyed his writing and will miss his columns. His piece a few months back about his iTunes and his agonizing over certain songs' respective play counts was really good. Mostly because it hit too close to home. But what I can't understand is how does a seemingly smart guy like Paul Shirley not realize that this sort of act would not fly with the notoriously-PC powers-that-be at ESPN? Even a micro-celebrity like Shirley had to know he didn't stand a chance with a post as incendiary as that one (whether taken out of context or not) with the current 24-hour blog/media cycle the way it is. Did that not cross his mind once while he was putting his thoughts together? Maybe it did and he just didn't care. But what became quickly obvious is that in the grand scheme of things he was probably pretty dispensable at ESPN. He's not exactly Bill Simmons. In fact, when I was discussing this matter with friends, Scott surmised that the meeting at corporate headquarters went something like this:

Guy1: Paul Shirley stated that he wished Haitians would wear condoms.
Guy2: Fire him. Have you tried that new deli on 43rd Street? The stromboli is to die for.

I suspect that this is pretty accurate. And I guess it's time to update the links.

--Alex

R.I.P.: Jay Reatard

2010-01-18T21:12:00.002-06:00

Jay Reatard was a name that I saw all over the Internet a few years ago and summarily ignored because, come on, "Reatard?" No one who chooses that name voluntarily has any business putting out good music. I was also under the false impression that Reatard was part of one of the stupid hot-then movements that I didn't like. Freak-folk or lo-fi or whatever the hell Dan Deacon does or something. That all changed when I saw the cover of Blood Visions. Seeing a dude standing in his underpants against a white background covered in blood made me want to give his music a shot. (...What?). I bought Blood Visions, pressed play, and was impressed within 10 seconds. It's still one of the few albums I happily return to when I think I'm bored with everything else in my collection.

When I heard the news on Wednesday that Reatard had died, I closed the door to my office and threw on Blood Visions. Listening to it made me sad until "Nightmares," my favorite song of his, came through my speakers. Then I remembered the great body of work that Reatard left, and was happy that my world is better because of it.

--Jim Powers

Merry Listmas From NQL: Best of 2009

2009-12-23T23:40:00.009-06:00

A little later than usual, but here we present NQL’s annual best-of music compilation for 2009 from contributors and a few guests. I, for one, am ready for a new year. When I think of 2009, disappointment comes to mind: M. Ward’s snoozer Hold Time following 2006’s excellent Post-War, the sneaky-terrible Where the While Things Are movie following that amazing trailer, and the couple that crashed the state dinner following my belief that people who wanted to be famous did it the old-fashioned way, such as launching a runaway hot-air balloon from their backyard. Wilco jumped on the “disappointment” bandwagon and released Wilco (The Album) which received mostly positive reviews but I have no idea why. I guess the album was slightly better than Sky Blue Sky. But if Paramount was to come out with a Godfather IV and it was a tad more enjoyable than Godfather III, would that necessarily make Godfather IV a good movie? Of course not. (Oddly enough, I would still shell out a decent amount of cash to take in a Wilco show if they were to come to town anytime soon. Their live shows never get old.)

Bands like jj were cute for about five seconds and then I realized they were called “jj” and their novelty would not survive through next year. Honestly, is anyone going to be playing that jj album come this time next year? (Oh, and don’t think I forgot about you, xx.) I almost felt the same way about the Passion Pit album Manners but I kept playing it and playing it and it never really got old. And it sort of reminded me of last year’s Oracular Spectacular by MGMT. Looking back, Oracular Spectacular was a fascinating album. It had all the making of a one-hit wonder, a flash in the pan, two guys who would never to be heard from again until they resurfaced five years later broke and with major drug problems. But nearly two years later, you go to a club, a baseball game, or turn on your television and you’re bound to hear that album. And that’s because it’s a good album, with good songs! I could see the same thing potentially happening with Manners. (Though it should be noted, I talked with a guy who played a show with Passion Pit and he said they were extremely nice guys who could hardly play their own instruments, culminating in the drummer one time becoming frustrated and throwing his drumsticks to the ground. But that’s okay, we’re not counting down the top ten live or talented performers here.) So there you go, Manners was a good album that was released in 2009. Combine that with the amazing video from Bob Dylan for his song “Must Be Santa” and maybe the year wasn’t half-bad. And what better way to find out than with a bunch of lists.

Best Songs of 2009

10. “Little Secrets” – Passion Pit

9. “People Got A Lot Of Nerve” – Neko Case

8. “1901” – Phoenix

6. “Hysteric” – Yeah Yeah Yeahs

6. “Daylight” – Matt & Kim

5. “Great Defector” – Bell X1

4. “There Maybe Ten Or Twelve…” – AC Newman

3. “Cannibal Resource” – Dirty Projectors

2. “My Girls” – Animal Collective

1. “Wet Hair” – Japandroids

“Wet Hair” is comprised of three nonsensical and non sequitur lyrics. They are sung four times and then the next time around the guitar is sped up and the same lyrics are sung faster. It’s that simple. It’s that awesome. And it also contains the best lyric written in years: “These girls are raw! Bikini kill! We need a ride to bikini island!”

Honorable Mention: “My Body’s a Zombie For You” – Dead Man’s Bones; “Shampoo” – Elvis Perkins in Dearland; “Now We Can See” – The Thermals

Best Albums of 2009

10. The Scotland Yard Gospel Choir - …And the Horse You Rode In On

Favorite Track: “Something’s Happening”

9. Cass McCombs - Catacombs

Favorite Track: “Don’t Vote”

8. Built to Spill – There is No Enemy

Favorite Track: “Life’s A Dream”

7. The Antlers – Hospice

Favorite Track: “Two”

6. Phoenix – Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix

Favorite Track: “1901”

5. Yeah Yeah Yeahs – It’s Blitz

Favorite Track: “Hysteric”

4. Japandroids – Post-Nothing

Favorite Track: “Wet Hair”

3. The Thermals – Now We Can See

Favorite Track – “Now We Can See”

2. Double Dagger – More

Favorite Track: “Vivre Sans Temp Mort”

1. Animal Collective – Merriweather Post Pavilion

Favorite Track: “My Girls”

When Merriweather Post Pavilion leaked early in 2009 and the blogosphere morphed into Lord of the Flies, and everyone was running around waving torches, losing their collective shit, and blowing each other, I wanted to dislike it on general principal. But it’s just too damn good. At the 2:30 mark of first track “In the Flowers” the album kicks into high gear and doesn’t let up until closer “Brother Sport” is completing the victory lap. This is a summer album, an album to listen to while cleaning your kitchen, a “road trip” album, or any other “fill-in-the-blank” album you can come up with. And it was my favorite album of 2009.

Honorable Mention: AC Newman – Get Guilty; Dirty Projectors – Bitte Orca; Discovery – LP; Passion Pit - Manners

--Alex

Albums/songs:

Animal Collective - Merriweather Post Pavillion/Fall Be Kind & "Summertime Clothes"/"What Would I Want? Sky". No measly words of mine could further the discourse surrounding these two (four?) slabs of amazing.

Baroness - Blue Record

Big Boi - "Shine Blockas". Just release the dadburn album already.

The Big Pink - "Dominos"

Black Dice - Repo. Supposedly their "pop" album (whatever that means); if this is the state of pop music, something is right (or very wrong) in the universe.

Burial & Four Tet - Moth 12". Each producer's aesthetic is apparent, but neither outshines/overwhelms the other, rendering it impossible to tell which is the "Burial" song and which is the "Four Tet" song, which I suppose is the purpose of collaboration.

Circulatory System - Signal Morning. Welcome back, and please don't go away again.

The Clientele - Bonfires on the Heath. Another excellent outing from a consistently excellent band--and for this reason I think critics undersold Bonfires a bit. If Bonfires does end up being the final Clientele album (I hope it doesn't), what a bow.

Converge - Axe to Fall melted my face right off my head.

Delorean - "Seasun". Song of the year.

Dirty Projectors - Bitte Orca. This and Girls and AnCo and Baroness and xx are neck-and-neck-and-neck-and-neck-and-neck for AoTY, but if I were forced to pick one best, it would be Bitte Orca by a blowhole.

DOOM - Born Like This. Universal beatdown!

Girls - Album. Inspirational lyric: "You've been a bitch. / I've been an ass."

Isis - Wavering Radiant

jj - jj no 2. Inspirational lyric: "The thought that you found takes you to town / Smashes your face, burns out your heart / then you go home and turn it into art."

Kraftwerk reissues, especially Trans Europe Express--or, in German, Trans Europa Express.

Lindstrom & Prins Thomas - II. My dog actually gets the proper amount of exercise when we walk to this album.

Pelican - What We All Come to Need

Pissed Jeans - King of Jeans

Shackleton - Three EPs. "Mountains of Ashes" blows my mind every time. "Asha in the Tabernacle" too.

Stone Roses s/t reissue. I always knew there was a great-sounding album somewhere in there.

Super Furry Animals - Dark Days/Light Years. Bananas. More people should love these dudes than probably do.

Wild Beasts - Two Dancers. I like Two Dancers just fine, but next time, please, a little more lyrical honesty.

xx - xx. Sounds so huge yet there's almost nothing here.

YACHT - See Mystery Lights. Inspirational lyric: "Protect your eyes / Read the comments and protect your eyes."

Yeah Yeah Yeahs - It's Blitz

Anticipating: Goodie Mob reunion album; Big Boi's and Dre's solo albums; Magnetic Fields album (and concert in March); Spoon album; xx/jj concert in April

"Discoveries": Franklin Bruno/Nothing Painted Blue; Jimmy Cliff, ska/rocksteady in general; D'Angelo; the Go-Betweens; Inspiral Carpets - Life (quite possibly the third-best Madchester/Baggy album, no big deal); Little White Earbuds; Nick Lowe; Resident Advisor (and its podcast); Scritti Politti; Yaz

Realization: I have no idea what's actually, commercially popular. In my universe, Animal Collective (for instance) is king. In the real universe, king is, apparently, Daughtry. Or maybe Shinedown. Guys: there's a band called Shinedown and they make platinum-selling albums.

Should've Listened to More/At All but Didn't: Fuck Buttons (at all), Grizzly Bear (at all); Raekwon (at all); A Sunny Day in Glasgow (more)

Statement: The ultra-lo-fi trend should just go to bed already, because it's bedtime. Overcoming self-imposed limitations seems to be the point of this movement/moment, but it is a stupid and annoying point, and you should make a different point. Neon Indian sounds like a locally produced commercial for a dentist's office. "Two-for-one crowns before December 31. Act now! Beep bloop deedle doo."

Surprises:

(1) Not much rap music this year (I love rap music). My tastes haven't changed, but this year I guess I mostly listened to older rap music, e.g., Goodie Mob (thx 4 reuniting btw), Run-D.M.C., Ghost/Rae/GZA, Nas, Hov.
(2) Lots of metal this year. But this year has been kind of a shitty year, personally, and metal made me feel good.
(3) How good the new Cornershop album is. FYI, Cornershop released an album this year and it's really good.

--Brian Herrmann

The Best Albums of 2009

After much internal debate, I have come to this conclusion: 2009 sucked music-wise. Initially, I believed that it may just be a symptom of age, priorities changing, getting engaged, preferring the company of my pets over strangers at concerts or bars, that I just was not enjoying music as much as I used to. I maybe attended three concerts this year, the best of which took place during the dawning hours of the new year. In the car, I listened to NPR and sports talk radio more often than music. I could hardly think of a music related article to contribute to this blog.

But occasionally something would happen that would rekindle the love. More often or not it was hearing an album or song from years past. I still loved that music, and a track from TV On the Radio’s Return to Cookie Mountain, or discovering the brilliance of Abbey Road’s “lesser” tracks through the Remastered edition, or finding the perfect moment to listen to last year’s still excellent You & Me by The Walkmen, brought the love back.

This helped me realize my relationship with music was not on its final legs. No, it was just that underwhelming tramp that was 2009 who was playing home-wrecker to my relationship with music. When compiling my top ten of 2009, I myself including many albums that I merely liked, and only a few that I loved. That said, the following albums are all very good albums, but the overwhelming enthusiasm I had for my Top Ten in years past is just not present here (as my descriptions would probably suggest).

10. Manners by Passion Pit

Kinda gay, but really good.

9. World Painted Blood by Slayer

A bit less falsetto than Passion Pit, but awesome nevertheless.

8. xx by The xx

Bravo to The xx for making it nearly impossible to find this album on a file-sharing site. I look forward to their follow-up, “Hot Girl on Girl”.

7. Travels With Myself and Another by Future of the Left

Andy Falkous continues using his bully pulpit of fronting a band to berate some unfortunate dude, known only to the listener by a first name. This time “Rick” bears the brunt of Falkous’s vitriol. I was a bit disappointed in the relative simplicity of FOTL’s output this time out, but a disappointing effort by FOTL is still one that got more plays from me than nearly any other release this year.

6. Two Dancers by Wild Beasts

You know those brilliant Dos Equis Most Interesting Man in the World commercials? For some reason I think of those commercials when I listen to this album. (In other words, it’s a very interesting album and I just wanted to come up with a convoluted way to say as much.)

5. Veckatimest by Grizzly Bear

In a year where Puscifer releases an album entitled “C" Is for (Please Insert Sophomoric Genitalia Reference HERE)”, Grizzly Bear still manages to have the worst album title of the year. “Two Weeks” and “While You Wait For the Others” are both outstanding tracks, and the album on the whole is extremely impressive. Would be higher if it was not so….what’s the word…oh yeah, boring.

4. Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix by Phoenix

I really wanted to hate this album. I really did. I failed.

3. Merriweather Post Pavilion by Animal Collective

MPP’s high placement on this list is likely due to my experience the first time I listened to this album. To be more precise, the first time hearing “My Girls” was a revelation. The excitement from the moment of the initial “wooo” likely influenced my feelings for the rest of the album, glossing over some of the later tracks’ shortcomings. Though not their best output, a great album nonetheless. Also, the excellence of their late-in-the-year EP only bolsters the thought that much more interesting work is still to come from this collective of animals in the future.

2. There Is No Enemy by Built to Spill

An album that was perfect for the time it was released (early fall). It is rare to hear a good straight-forward and gimmick-free rock album these days, let alone a great one. This coherent collection of mid-tempo guitar rock is one of the few albums I truly loved this year and honestly see myself coming back to in the years to come.

1. Embryonic by The Flaming Lips

Wow.

This album succeeds on a number of levels. First, when it appeared the Lips might be heading toward the land of Coldplay, U2, and Moby, they release this single-free album. A bold move in and of itself. I can guarantee you that “Gemini Syringes” or “I Can Be a Frog” will not be used to sell you a laptop.

However the lack of singles and/or mainstream appeal is the least impressive of the impressive things about this album. Like The Walkmen did with my favorite album of last year, Embryonic captures a mood and sound and perfectly adheres to this aesthetic for a full [A]lbum. Here, the Lips have produced an album that from start to finish is everything a “psychedelic” album should be. I’m not talking “The Byrds” psychedelic, but Pink Floyd A Saucerful of Secrets psychedelic. To wit, you can practically see the acid-trip images of volcanoes erupting while listening to “Witch Mountain”.

Lastly, this album succeeds because it is, in a word: awesome. Headphones on/off, on the home stereo, in the car, on vinyl, on a boat with a goat, it is awesome. If only there had been more albums like Embryonic, I would not have had to question my relationship with music.

Again, wow.

Songs of the Year

This list was actually tough to put together because despite being 2009 being underwhelming on the whole, there were a lot of excellent songs this year. Here’s the best of the best

10. “Combination Pizza Hut/Taco Bell” – Das Racist & Wallpaper

9. “The Czar” – Mastodon

8. “Ecstasy” – jj

7. “Woods” – Bon Iver

6. “Hall of the Dead” - Isis

5. “Two Weeks” – Grizzly Bear

4. “Arming Eritrea” – Future of the Left

3. “Listomania/1901” – Phoenix

2. “Things Fall Apart” – Built to Spill

1. “My Girls” – Animal Collective

--Travis Newman

Best Albums of 2009

1. Franz Ferdinand - Tonight
I don't think Tonight was necessarily the best album of the past year, nor do I think it was the most ambitious, daring, or surprising. But when I look at all of the albums that were released in 2009, Tonight is my favorite. Usually a band goes down one of two paths with it's third album. The first path is for the band to be ambitious and to cause someone familiar with it to have a bit of a "WTF" moment on first listen. This is commonly referred to as the "difficult third album" and can either be either hugely successful (OK Computer) or a disaster (Our Love to Admire). The other path is for the band to simply build on and sharpen what came before. This way, while a little boring, is almost always successful for naturally good bands (Wincing the Night Away, Urban Hymns, White Blood Cells).

With Tonight, Franz Ferdinand has accomplished the rare feat of trying to make the "difficult third album," but ending up with the perfect combination of the band's basic strengths with the right amount of experimentation. From the subtle charm of "Katherine Kiss Me" to the batshit crazy three minute laser outro of "Lucid Dreams," everything about this album just works. You get traditional Franz crowd-pleasing singles like "No You Girls" and "Ulysses," you get momentum-fests like "Bite Hard" and "Send Him Away," and you get tender little ballads like "Katherine Kiss Me." And while some of it may indulge in distorted bass, keyboards, and the influence of world music (all hallmarks of the "difficult third album"), it is always unmistakeably Franz Ferdinand and quite clearly my favorite album of 2009.

2. Wild Beasts - Two Dancers
Wild Beasts are the most promising new band I have heard in a long time. Last year's great debut, Limbo, Panto (#4 on my best of '08 list), hinted at the band's potential. With Two Dancers, Wild Beasts realized that potential and somehow created some sort of new additional potential that I can't wait to see them meet, because I'm certain they will. If Jay Bilas described Wild Beasts as an NBA draft prospect, he'd say they had "tremendous upside potential potential." Then he'd probably say that putting these slight Brits on an NBA basketball court would cost a coach his job.

The thing I love about Wild Beasts is that they are unique. So many new bands nowadays can be easily described by saying that they sound like X, but with a bit more/less Y, but Wild Beasts don't really sound like anyone else. They have two excellent singers, one with a gorgeous baritone (Tom Fleming) and another who can change from his signature falsetto to a deep growl on a dime (Hayden Thorpe). Their drummer beats away on various wood blocks and bongos (yes, bongos) with impressive precision, and their lead guitarist never really plays below the 15th fret. Combine all of this and you get standout tracks like "The Fun Powder Plot" and "This Is Our Lot," both high points of Two Dancers. The album is a gigantic leap forward for a band that already leaped once.

If you can handle falsetto (and I understand if you can't) and like music, you owe it to yourself to give Two Dancers a listen. And if Wild Beasts come to your town, make time to see them because their live show is excellent. I saw them at the Mercury Lounge in New York earlier this year and it was the best show I've seen in some time. I really, really can't wait to see what they do next.

3. The Flaming Lips - Embryonic
I have a feeling that, a year from now, Embryonic will be my favorite album from 2009. I read reviews before I listened to it, so I expected a bit of a departure from Soft Bulletin-and-later Lips, but I did not expect Embryonic to be as raw and dirty and acid-rock-y as it is. It's initially shocking and a little unwieldy, but after a few listens, the structures reveals themselves and a listener can start to focus on more of the details, like the persistent, ominous bass line in "Powerless" or Karen O's awesome bit in "I Can Be A Frog." Embryonic isn't really a comeback album because the Lips never went anywhere and it's not a return to form album because it's not really standard Lips "form," but it's definitely different, and whatever it is, its ballsy, difficult, and, ultimately, very rewarding.

4. The xx - xx
This was my favorite debut of the year. The xx employs a very simple formula: bordering on spoken word lyrics over a drum machine, some guitar and bass, and a keyboard effect here and there. But the xx have two things going for them that plenty of other bands do not. First, the co-lead "singers" have badass voices. It doesn't hurt that they're British, which just sounds better. Can you imagine this music with American singers? I cannot. The second thing the xx has in spades is the gift of intelligent and complex song construction. They take their simple formula and put together short songs that feature multiple parts and little bits that make you smile, like a perfectly placed hand clap or the reprise later in a song of a riff from the beginning. I love those details. It's also difficult to switch between two leads in the same song and have it sound natural, but listen to "Crystalised" and "Islands" and tell me that the xx doesn't pull it off to sometimes thrilling results.

5. Phoenix - Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix
How can someone not like this album? That's not a rhetorical question. I would actually like to know. "Lisztomania" and "1901" are perfect pop songs and "Love Like a Sunset" is the kind of unexpected, daring track that turns a good album into a great one. Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix reminds me of Vampire Weekend's debut last year or basically any Spoon album in that there is no fat on any of the songs and it's just really nice and fun to listen to.

6. Morrissey - Years of Refusal
Hands down his best album since Vauxhall and I, and with a few songs that count among his solo best ("Black Cloud," "Mama Lay Softly on the Riverbed"). It feels like he's been building to this for a few albums now. Hopefully he can keep his current momentum because Morrissey putting out good music is always welcome.

7. Bat for Lashes - Two Suns
I don't really know how to describe this album, and I think that's why I like it so much. It's easy to name-check Bjork and Portishead, maybe M83 and a little bit of the Knife, but dig a little deeper and it also sounds like it could be right at home as the soundtrack to a 1980's fantasy movie. It's also one of those albums that reveals something new upon each listen. I have a feeling that, in the future, I might listen to this album more than most of the others on this list.

8. Cymbals Eat Guitars - Why There Are Mountains
This album really reminds me of late 1990s Modest Mouse. And because late-1990s Modest Mouse is one of my favorite band time periods (or something), I really like Why There Are Mountains. Hopefully, their next album will sound more like early 2010s Cymbals Eat Guitars and will be just as good.

9. Built to Spill - There Is No Enemy
I agree with most of the music press that, "Goin' Against Your Mind" aside, You in Reverse wasn't very good, but I don't agree that Ancient Melodies of the Future was a disappointment. I mention this because There Is No Enemy has been labeled as Built to Spill's best since Keep it Like a Secret. I don't necessarily agree with that, but it is a solid Built to Spill effort, and a marked improvement over You in Reverse. But a solid Built to Spill album is usually excellent, and this one is no exception. I think it's a little mushy and indulgent, but the highlights are there: "Life's a Dream" and "Aisle 13" are both outstanding and this new stuff comes across live as good as their older, classic-period material. For my money, they're still one of the two best live bands on the planet (The Futureheads being the other).

10. The Antlers - Hospice
I saw these guys open for the Walkmen earlier this year before I heard this album and they came off as a pretty standard, solid, rock three piece. When I heard the album, I was surprised to hear what sounded like a completely different, and much more complex band. I like that - when a band's live show is very different from the album (this is different from when a band changes a lyric or two live (i.e. Morrissey) to try to switch it up a bit, which comes across as a little desperate). Anyway, that's neither here nor there. Hospice is a very good, very devastating album. Kind of an I See A Darkness for the 00s in that I realize how great it is, but I never want to listen to it.

Best Songs of 2009

"My Girls" - Animal Collective

"Arming Eritrea" and "Lapsed Catholics" - Future of the Left

"1901" - Phoenix

"Two Weeks" - Grizzly Bear

"Daniel" - Bat for Lashes

"Happy As Can Be" - Cut Off Your Hands

"Out of the Blue" - Julian Casablancas

"Can't Get Over You" - Vivian Girls

Best Albums of 10 Years Ago (1999)

1. Blur - 13
Their greatest album, and one of the decade's best.

2. Flaming Lips - The Soft Bulletin
It was a big shock for 20-year-old me to hear this album from those guys who made that stupid Vaseline song. It's the high point of that late-1990s Dave Fridmann sound.

3. Fiona Apple - When the Pawn...
A pretty much perfect album and a career high point that I don't think she'll top.

4. Bonnie "Prince" Billy - I See a Darkness
It doesn't take many listens to realize how good this album is. I know this because I've only listened to it about 5 times before realizing that curling up into a ball and crying kind of sucks.

5. Built to Spill - Keep it like a Secret
Top to bottom excellent.

6. Godspeed You! Black Emperor - Slow Riot for New Zero Kanada
Quiet quiet quiet LOUD LOUD LOUD. Good formula.

7. The Roots - Things Fall Apart
For my money, the only popular hip hop band worth a shit outside of Outkast. Yes, I am white.

8. Underworld - Beaucoup Fish
"Moaner" is awesome.

9. Gomez - Liquid Skin
Gomez' unfortunate new stuff casts their old stuff in a poor light. I loved Liquid Skin when it came out, but like it less each time I hear it. I stopped listening to it before it dropped out of this list though.

10. Red Hot Chili Peppers - Californication
A perfect mainstream rock record.

--Jim Powers

Best Albums of 2009

1. Baroness - Blue Record
2. Built to Spill - There is No Enemy
3. Dinosaur Jr. - Farm
4. Pelican - What We All Come to Need
5. Red Fang - Red Fang
6. Passion Pit - Manners
7. Wolfmother - Cosmic Egg
8. Om - God is Good
9. The Thermals - Now We Can See
10. Dirty Projectors - Bitte Orca

Honorable Mention:

Code - Resplendent Grotesque
Girls - Girls
Discovery – LP

--Matthew Schuhmann

Favorite albums of 2009

1. Veckatimest, Grizzly Bear

2. Merriweather Post Pavillion, Animal Collective

3. Born on Flag Day, Deer Tick

4. My Maudlin Career, Camera Obscura

5. Middle Cyclone, Neko Case

6. Elvis Perkins in Dearland

7. Bonfires on the Heath, The Clientele

Favorite Shows of 2009

1. Dan Auerbach @ Mean Eyed Cat, Austin TX March 21. Hungover from Friday night, this daytime show was poorly attended. Auerbach wore shades to hide his bloodshot eyes and looked like he was fighting off urges to puke. Free beer and BBQ was handed to us. We were under a majestic 300 year-old tree at a bad ass joint in Austin.

2. Nina Nastasia @ Hideout, Chicago July 26. She had complete ownership of the stage and the dead silent, transfixed audience during this recorded show.

3. The Walkmen @ Lincoln Hall, Chicago November 12. Hamilton Leithauser still poured every last ounce of his body into his songs in spite of a ho-hum audience. They dredged up some old goodies including “Another One Goes By” and “Thinking of a Dream I Had.”

4. Avett Brothers @ Calvin Theater, Northampton, MA. August 2.

5. The Decemberists @ George Wein’s Folk Festival, Newport RI. August 1. I’m not really a fan of this band, but really, who can sound bad when you are drunk and watching million-dollar yachts and sailboats float into the sunset?

6. Jeff Tweedy @ Beacon High School, NY March 28

7. Destroyer (solo) @ Empty Bottle, Chicago May 17. Dan Bejar’s strange songwriting sounded even cooler playing solo.

8. Band of Horses @ Lollapalooza, August 9. Lou Reed went too long on the main stage which meant B of H came on late, which meant they only got about twenty minutes to play before Lolla big daddy Perry Farrell and his Jane’s Addiction came on. In a thumb-biting gesture to Jane’s, Band of Horses continued to play after Jane’s started. Ben Bridwell yelled “Fuck it, let’s keep on playing!” The crowd went wild and they played on until kicked off stage.

9. Neko Case @ Riverside Theater, Milwaukee, WI April 25.

10. Don’t know yet, but the Black Keys @ The Riviera on New Year’s Eve are probably going to be awesome to an expletive degree.

Biggest Disappointments of 2009 (at the risk of sounding like a negative nancy….):

1. Flaming Lips @ Pitchfork Music Festival. I had never seen FL live and was really excited. The highlight was when they entered the stage emerging from an enormous digital, swirling rainbow vagina. The rest was downhill and I’m not even a lesbian. Wayne Coyne talked too much and his slow-dance version of “Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots” sucked.

2. Wilco the Album. I heard a caller on NPR’s Sound Opinions compare it to listening to a jackhammer, except that a jackhammer is more interesting. Ouch. But not untrue.

3. Myself, for being too lazy to attend a few shows for which I had already bought tickets: St. Vincent @ the Metro, Atlas Sound @ Bottom Lounge.

4. This should fall under “Performed As Expected” rather than being a true disappointment, but Conor Oberst (a.k.a. Bright Eyes) did himself a disservice playing alongside Jim James and M. Ward in Monsters of Folk. Mr. Eyes doesn’t bring much to the table. His voice is sallow and sounds like he’s been whipped. He has made a bazillion records. My sister and I have a longstanding joke where we clap really slowly for nominal accomplishments. Conor Oberst, my special applause goes out to you.

5. I don’t understand what Andrew Bird is talking about in Noble Beast. I once loved his clever word play but Mr. Smarty Pants has gone too far and now it’s over my head.

Favorite Tracks of 2009

1. “Sleepyhead” by Passion Pit

2. “Daylight” by Matt & Kim

3. “Fables” by the Dodos

4. “While You Wait for the Others” by Grizzly Bear

5. “Walkabout” by Atlas Sound

6. “Smith Hill” by Deer Tick

7. “Bluish” by Animal Collective

8. “Magpie to the Morning” by Neko Case

9 “We Own the Sky” by M83

10. “Actor Out of Work” by St. Vincent

11. “Crystalised” by the xx

12. Ukrainian Polka band cover of Kate Perry’s “Hot N Cold.” You will love this.

--Audrey Wen

Top Albums of the Decade, Vol. 2.0

2009-12-20T23:48:00.004-06:00

The following is a list of around 25 of my favorite albums of the last decade as a follow-up to Jim's. I tried to follow two rules when compiling this list. First, the album had to mean something to people. But second, the album had to mean something to me. Therefore, the first rule eliminated any music that barely anyone outside of myself found to be important or significant, and the second rule eliminated Grizzly Bear and Antony and the Johnsons. Enjoy.

1. The Hold Steady - Boys and Girls In America
From the Hold Steady's catalog, most fans prefer Separation Sunday for its somewhat cohesive concept but for my American currency, Boys and Girls is their finest work, and my favorite album of the aughts. Plus, the beginning guitar riff on "Stuck Between Stations" is to this decade what the beginning of "Smells Like Teen Spirit" was to the 90's, and what the opening of "Sweet Child O' Mine" was to the 80's. At least to me.
Favorite Track: "First Night"

2. The Arcade Fire - Funeral
I remember being in school and having this CD in burned format sent to me in the mail from a friend in New Mexico. I had never heard them before, but it came with a note that pretty much said "just trust me on this one." I played it in my car and "Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)" just immediately slapped me across the face. After it ended, I hit "back" and listened again, and again, and again, or for however long it took me to get home. I liked the beginning of the album so much that it took me a few weeks before I heard some of the great later cuts like "Wake Up" and "Rebellion (Lies)." And this probably would have been my favorite album of the decade if it wasn't for "Crown of Love" and "In the Backseat." There's no room for filler at the top.
Favorite Track: "Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)"

3. Kanye West - The College Dropout
808's and Heartbreaks is pretty good and you should listen to it, but The College Dropout is one of the greatest albums of all time.
Favorite Track: "Through the Wire"

4. Wilco - Yankee Hotel Foxtrot
Like Funeral, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot has that first track ("I Am Trying to Break Your Heart") that has the special power to make sure you always remember where you were when you first heard it. I will also always be thankful for this album for its timing. Along with the Flaming Lips' Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots and some of those early Modest Mouse records, I had something to listen to besides the bands that played Lollapalooza circa 1993. (Not that there's anything wrong with Alice in Chains' Dirt.)
Favorite Track: "I Am Trying to Break Your Heart" (Favorite Track from Dirt: "Angry Chair")

5. LCD Soundsystem - Sound of Silver
I was at a wedding last weekend and during the reception the DJ played "All My Friends." Someone remarked, "I think this song is perfect." I couldn't agree more.
Favorite Track: "Someone Great"

6. The Shins - Chutes Too Narrow
This just feels like a perfectly crafted album. Every song is good, and seemingly placed in the perfect spot. In this age of singles and iTunes, if the idea of the "album" ever actually disappears, in talking to future generations I will bring up Chutes Too Narrow the same way old basketball coaches like to talk about the Mikan Drill.
Favorite Track: "Gone For Good"

7. Broken Social Scene - You Forgot It In People
When I first heard this record I remember listening to "Anthems For A Seventeen Year-Old Girl" and thinking, "I didn't know music was allowed to sound like that." And I was thinking that in a good way. This record has also held up remarkably well the last seven years and I don't think that will change in the next seven.
Favorite Track: "KC Accidental"

8. Modest Mouse - Good News For People Who Love Bad News
Trying to pick Modest Mouse's best record from the last ten years is almost like trying to figure out which is the best season of The Wire. There really are no wrong answers (except for maybe Season 5).
Favorite Track: "Blame It On the Tetons"

9. Frightened Rabbit - The Midnight Organ Fight
Still the 85' Bears of break-up albums. And speaking of which...in a recent RollingStone resident "you're-very-smart-in-an-asshole-kind-of-way" writer Matt Taibbi wrote a short piece on the plague that is the Chicago Bears' quarterback. Overall, his three main points were correct. First, that the Chicago Bears have not had a good quarterback in a long time. Second, that Jay Cutler's initial season with the team has not gone according to plan. And third, that following his NFL career, OJ Simpson made some bad decisions. (I made that last one up, but that's about as equally obvious as the first two.) Everything else in the article screamed, "I'm Matt Taibbi and there’s a reason why I usually only write about politics." For one, he did the normal song and dance of listing several of the most inept players (Peter Tom Willis, Moses Moreno, Henry Burris, etc.) that have lined up behind center for the Bears post-Jim McMahon. And then he wrote something along the lines of, "...and now comes the worst of all, Jay Cutler." Worst of all?!? Hey Taibbi, Henry Burris used to throw passes with his eyes closed! Then, he stupidly wrote something about Erik Kramer (Bears' quarterback between 1994-1998) and how much he sucked. Well, Kramer was no Joe Montana, but even a mildly observant Bears fan would tell you that he by no means sucked. In fact, for a few years, he was a damn good quarterback. Lastly, Taibbi made some reference to Chris Chandler's (Bears' quarterback between 2002-2003) corpse which just came off as sounding like the biggest attempt to ape Bill Simmons since whenever I last did it. Poor show, Matt. Poor show. (Update: I wrote this on Saturday. On Sunday I went to the Bears/Ravens game and watched a completely beleaguered Cutler throw three interceptions and no touchdowns so perhaps Taibbi was right all along. Although I would like to point out that the Bears' number one receiver was injured and was also a defensive back in college.)
Favorite Track: "The Modern Leper"

10. The White Stripes - White Blood Cells
See what's written above about Modest Mouse. The same thing is at play here.
Favorite Track: "Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground"

11. Common - Be
Common has very quietly been responsible for three classic hip-hop records: Resurrection, Like Water For Chocolate, and this one.
Favorite Track: "The Corner"

12. Okkervil River - Black Sheep Boy
My favorite record from my favorite band from the last ten years or so.
Favorite Track: "A Stone"

13. Radiohead - Kid A
In one of Chuck Klosterman's books he makes the case that Kid A is sort of a track-by-track warning (or something) of 9/11, which would end up happening about 11 months after Kid A was released. Upon reading this I immediately listened to Kid A to see if I could figure out where Klosterman was coming from. I never really did, but I wasn't that upset about it because it gave me an excuse to listen to Kid A. It’s hard for me to think of another album that so brilliantly mixes moods. Kid A is somber at times, hysterical at others.
Favorite Track: "Idioteque"

14. The Walkmen - You & Me
You & Me is so good I predict one of the following two reactions for their next release: First, it will be as good as You & Me and will cement the Walkmen as one of the best bands of this generation. Or second, the conventional wisdom will be that it is not as good as You & Me, while ignoring that it's actually a damn fine record. Those are the stakes when you set the bar so high, gentlemen.
Favorite Track: "In the New Year"

15. Spoon - Kill the Moonlight
See what's written above about Modest Mouse and the White Stripes.
Favorite Track: "The Way We Get By"

16. The Wrens - The Meadowlands
A track-list that is pretty much murderer's row: "Happy," "She Sends Kisses," "Ex-Girl Collection," etc. It's a perfect pop record.
Favorite Track: "Ex-Girl Collection"

17. Sufjan Stevens - Illinois
The fact that this album would have been so hard to top may have been the primary reason why Stevens decided to scrap the idea of doing an album for every one of the 50 states. (Or maybe it was because the entire idea was completely ridiculous and unrealistic.)
Favorite Track: "Chicago"

18. Ryan Adams - Heartbreaker
Though not as good as Heartbreaker, during a seven month span in 2005, Ryan Adams released Cold Roses, Jacksonville City Nights, and 29. The first two are very good, and 29 certainly has the right to exist. How come no one ever mentions this? If there's a more impressive and prolific output from any other artist I would like to see it.
Favorite Track: "My Winding Wheel"

19. The Mountain Goats - The Sunset Tree
I am still a big fan of the Mountain Goats, but I don't think John Darnielle's recent material has come anywhere near this album. I emphatically tried to force myself into liking his latest product, The Life of the World to Come with little success. The last time I gave it a try, I finally bailed and immediately listened to "Broom People" from The Sunset Tree and everything made sense again.
Favorite Track: "This Year"

20. Destroyer - Destroyer's Rubies
I was blasting Beyoncé's "Single Ladies (Put A Ring On It)" on my iTunes (and loving it, by the way) the other day and when the song ended I wasn’t paying attention and Big Black's Atomizer was next in line. After "Single Ladies" I wasn't quite mentally prepared for Big Black, and frankly, it scared me. I decided to scroll through my entire iTunes collection, and nowhere else was there such a dramatic shift from one artist to another. Not even close. What this has to do with Destroyer's Rubies, I have no idea.
Favorite Track: "3000 Flowers"

21. Deerhunter - Microcastle
Bradford Cox has proven to be one the best songwriters of the last decade and this is him at his best.
Favorite Track: "Nothing Ever Happened"

22. Animal Collective - Merriweather Post Pavilion
Don't fight it, it really is good.
Favorite Track: "My Girls"

23. TV On The Radio - Dear Science,
It just keeps getting better, doesn't it?
Favorite Track: "Family Tree"

24. Neko Case - Fox Confessor Brings the Flood
From top to bottom, Ms. Case's finest work.
Favorite Track: "Margaret Vs. Pauline"

25. The Killers - Hot Fuss; The Postal Service - Give Up (tie)
It's hard to leave off two albums that are responsible for about a baker's dozen of the top hits from the last decade.
Favorite Tracks: "All These Things That I've Done" and "The District Sleeps Alone Tonight"

Best of the Rest: The Decemberists - The Crane Wife; The Flaming Lips - Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots; Jay-Z - The Blue Print; The New Pornographers - Twin Cinema; Outkast – Stankonia; Rogue Wave - Descended Like Vultures; Smog - A River Ain’t Too Much To Love

--Alex

Top Albums of the Decade (And Some Other Things)

2009-12-14T20:04:00.009-06:00

Earlier this year, Jim Powers and I each posted what we thought were the best and most definitive songs over the past ten years. Here, Jim makes his case for the top albums of the decade along with some superlatives. My response will be posted later this week, and the best of 2009 in songs and albums will also be coming soon. But until then, read what Jim has posted below and see what you think. I hear he likes Radiohead.

Albums of the Decade

1. Radiohead - Kid A
As easy a choice this decade as OK Computer was last decade.

2. The Futureheads - The Futureheads
This is an intensely personal choice. Sometimes I think this album was made just for me.

3. Modest Mouse - The Moon and Antarctica
Amazing, beautiful, and haunting fully-realized album from easily the best songwriter of my generation (and his excellent band).

4. Animal Collective - Sung Tongs
Every time Animal Collective puts out a new album, I think it will be their masterpiece. But every time I listen to that new album, I realize that they already created their masterpiece, and it is Sung Tongs.

5. Clinic - Internal Wrangler
As fresh-sounding today as when it came out.

6. The Libertines - Up the Bracket
Even without the tragic death-of-the-band story as context, this is a great collection of songs.

7. The Knife - Silent Shout
I still get cold chills when I put on this album and hear those first thee notes.

8. The Strokes - Is This It?
I think I might actually like Room on Fire better, but this one was the breakthrough.

9. Interpol - Turn on the Bright Lights
The high point of bands trying to ape Joy Division and the only really worthy imitator.

10. Wolf Parade - Apologies to the Queen Mary
The keystone of late-decade Spencer Krug dominance. Props to Boeckner too, who I think is yet to fully realize his substantial potential.

11. Art Brut - Bang Bang Rock and Roll
I usually run when an album is described as "fun," but when I call this album fun, it's high praise.

12. The Shins - Chutes too Narrow
There's no way anyone could have expected this watershed after the cute Oh Inverted World.

13. Spoon - Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga
Kill the Moonlight or Gimme Fiction could be here too. Somehow, on year-end lists, Spoon will be penalized for putting out so much good shit - kind of like when two guys from the same region split the Heisman vote.

14. The Walkmen - You and Me
Keeps getting better and better.

15. Love is All - Nine Times that Same Song
One of the best break up albums ever, but uplifting rather than depressing (looking at you, Bon Iver).

16. Mclusky - Do Dallas
I can't put into words how much I love Mclusky. If I could put greatest hits albums on here, Mcluskyism would be top 5.

17. The Arcade Fire - Funeral
Deserves all the praise it gets.

18. Outkast - Stankonia
Looks like it will be the last great Outkast album, sadly.

19. The Hives - Veni Vidi Vicious
Heavily influenced by Fetus Toast, these Swedes' studio output is excellent, but their live show is a can't-miss spectacle.

20. The White Stripes - White Blood Cells
I don't think Jack White has come close to topping this one.

21. Liars - They Threw Us In a Trench...
Drum's Not Dead is probably "better," but, unlike that album, I still listen to this at least once a month.

22. Sleater Kinney - One Beat
The only 9/11 album worth a shit. A very good, satisfying shit.

23. Radiohead - In Rainbows
Their most intimate album, and a nice little comeback after the slightly disappointing (yet still good) Amnesiac and Hail to the Thief.

24. Bloc Party - Silent Alarm (and EP)
Too bad they kind of fell off a cliff, because this is pretty much a perfect debut.

25. Destroyer - Destroyer's Rubies
One of the best singer/songwriter albums I've ever heard.

Decade Superlatives

Best compilation: Guided by Voices - Human Amusements at Hourly Rates. The best distillation of Pollard's substantial genius.

Best song: Outkast - Hey Ya!

Best concert that I saw: Modest Mouse (the Shins opening) - Black Cat, Washington DC, September 28, 2001. This is one of those "I cant believe I saw X and Y play at Z shows."

Best trend: The influence of the good stuff from the '80s.

Worst trend: The lo-fi movement. Just because something sounds like shit on purpose doesn't mean it doesn't sound like shit.

Best use of music in a movie: "Just Like Honey" at the end of Lost in Translation.

Best band (taking industry stuff into account): Radiohead. Two classic albums, two pretty good albums, and the In Rainbows release strategy.

Best band (based on quality alone): Spoon. Girls Can Tell, Kill the Moonlight, Gimme Fiction, and Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga all in a row in one decade? Wow.

Best video: Real World / Road Rules Challenge

Most disappointing band break-up: Blur

Most welcome reunion: (tie) Blur, Pink Floyd

Best album cover: Andrew W.K. - I Get Wet

--Jim Powers

Review: PBS Independent Lens, “D Tour”

2009-11-16T19:15:00.006-06:00

The PBS documentary opens with a brief introduction by the quirky Maggie Gyllenhall. and then dives immediately into the story of Pat Spurgeon, drummer of Rogue Wave and his illness, an unfortunate one-two kidney punch – he was born with a single healthy kidney that began to go into failure in his teens. He does okay until he is in his twenties, scraping out a life as a miserly drummer in Indiana. But after a string of flu-like illnesses from which he never recovers, his mother comes from California to rescue him. This was a critical move, born from none other than motherly spidey-senses that literally saves Spurgeon’s life. He then becomes dependent on daily peritoneal dialysis, a time-consuming procedure to filter and cleanse his blood. At this time he begins to play with Rogue Wave and as the band’s popularity rises, they are forced to make serious decisions on whether to allow Spurgeon to tour given his health.

Meanwhile we get a sense of Spurgeon’s passion for music. He never wanted to commit to any alternative careers in the chance that he would be able to find a great group to play with. So he carried on doing odd jobs and playing in uninspired bands until he found Rogue Wave. He is portrayed as a fairly simple and likeable guy, not particularly insightful or articulate, but clearly a man who is devoted to his craft and has a good understanding of his illness.

In spite of the risk, the band decides to go ahead touring with Spurgeon. Scene after scene there are images of Spurgeon dialyzing himself in the back of a van, backstage, on a porch, in a living room with a dog chasing his dialysis bags. To maintain a sense of privacy for Spurgeon, they encode talk related to dialysis, referring to his “D-Bags” and thus coining the term, “D Tour.” The story takes on an added layer as bassist Evan Farrell’s wife offers to donate her kidney to Spurgeon after finding out she is a perfect tissue match for him. Sadly, this possibility dead-ends as she is found to be unable to donate and Spurgeon is relegated to have to wait up to five years on a kidney match list. He faces the harsh reality that he may die before receiving a kidney. The band then tours to raise awareness of Spurgeon’s plight. Some familiar rock faces emerge, including Ben Gibbard, John Vanderslice, Nada Surf, the Moore Brothers showing their support of the cause. Throughout the movie you can see Spurgeon’s body change, sometimes slightly swollen and sallow-faced, but always undeniably thin.

In a stroke of luck, or hitting the “organ lottery” (misunderstood by Spurgeon’s family as the Oregon Lottery) Spurgeon gets a perfectly matched cadaveric organ. In hours he’s whisked away to UCSF Hospital and gets his brand-spanking healthy new kidney. He recovers well. Happy ending, right? Hardly. In the same year, bassist Evan Farrell dies in an apartment fire. In a twisted turn of events, Farrell’s wife, who just a year prior offered her kidney to Spurgeon, decides to have her husband’s organs donated. The movie’s most poignant moments come when Farrell’s wife gets to meet the four recipients of her husband’s organs and when Spurgeon meets his donor’s family. (I cried like a baby during these parts.)

Interspersed in this weighty story line we hear bits of tracks from Asleep At Heaven’s Gate, which keep our soundbyte-trained ears perked and reminded me how it’s just a great album. The music took a relative backseat to the main focus of the movie that seemed to be more on Spurgeon’s illness, the organ donor program and the absolute heart-wrenching losses and the strange healing that can come from it.

--Audrey Wen

Members of The Scotland Yard Gospel Choir In Serious Van Accident

2009-09-28T18:28:00.007-05:00

You may have read on Jim DeRogatis's blog or elsewhere that all six members of Chicago's the Scotland Yard Gospel Choir were seriously injured last Thursday in a van accident on I-65 while heading to a concert in Cincinnati. Bass player Mark Yoshizumi is still in the hospital. When I lived in Chicago I caught these guys a few times at Schubas and always had a blast at their energetic and just all around fun shows. In light of presumed hefty medical bills, their label Bloodshot Records has set up a PayPal account if you wish to make a donation. Or, go to iTunes and buy one of their albums. I highly recommend their latest ...And the Horse You Rode In On.

--Alex

How Do You Determine A Concert's Worth?

2009-09-23T19:13:00.008-05:00

We are currently living in times of a questionable economy, and with that questionable economy, most people take an extra second to evaluate certain spending decisions. I was in this position yesterday when I got online with the purpose of buying tickets to see the Pixies at DAR Constitution Hall on November 30. A tour which, by the way, is being promoted as a Doolittle tour. (This information will become more important later.) Because of the band and venue, I knew tickets would be somewhat expensive. I was right, through Ticketmaster, a singular ticket came in at $53.50 before any added charges. This probably means we are talking about at least a $70 price tag once all of the goggily-gook is piled on. (Before I go any further, this is not meant and will not turn into some rant on the Pixies or Ticketmaster for the presumed $70 ticket. )

Once I saw how much tickets were, the fascinating world of economics started bouncing around my brain. Should I buy a ticket? Is $70 worth what I will be getting in return? Figuring there are plenty of people facing similar decisions, before doing anything rash, I decided to close my browser and break it down to determine the best course of action. Assume for all intents and purposes that I am your average person. I don't make a ton of money, but I make enough where I could spend $70 on a ticket if I really wanted to.

Obviously to pay $70 to see a band, you have to like that band. Well, I like the Pixies. Now, they're not necessarily my favorite band, and I wasn't raised on their music. But I do like them enough to play them semi-regularly, and usually loud enough to earn the disdainful glare that my neighbor down the hall gives me when I see her in the building. (Is it possibly to play the Pixies soft? Of course not.) I own four of their albums. Strike that, I own three of their albums (Surfer Rosa, Doolittle, Trompe Le Monde), with the fourth being a greatest hits compilation that I found for $1. I could have sworn I had Bossanova somewhere but after rummaging through my music collection, it has come to my attention that I don't. Anyway, I like all of these albums and I love Doolittle. Love it. It gets the most play of their stuff, and if I were to ever make a collection of my 50 favorite songs of all time (for all of our sakes, let's hope I don't), "Debaser" would probably make the cut. So, I certainly like the Pixies enough to satisfy this particular category, and the fact that they will be playing most or all of Doolittle makes the show even more compelling.

But there are still more issues to consider. Seventy bucks does not grow on cherry blossom trees. How about the venue? Well, I have seen two concerts at DAR Constitution Hall (My Morning Jacket, Smashing Pumpkins) and enjoyed myself both times. It is a very comfortable place and has pretty decent sound. I can not fathom any reason why this particular time would be different. Also, getting there and back is nothing more than a nice, brisk walk.

(Quick side story: I lived in Dayton, Ohio, for three years and one of my good friends lived in a nice house in a nice, quiet neighborhood. Every so often, we would spend a weekend on his porch shooting the breeze and drinking a beer. One of his next-door neighbors was a nice unassuming woman who would pass by and say hello while she was walking her dog, or maintaining her garden. This woman we later found out was Kim Deal. I throw this in here because I love this story. My friend lived next door to a person who played bass for a band that I really liked and we never put two-and-two together probably because we've grown accustomed to assuming that rock stars don't spend their weekends planting flowers.)

Two big questions out of the way and the only drawback seems to be the ticket cost. But I should probably mention that I can't really think of an acquaintance in DC that would be interested in tagging along. If I go, I will probably be by myself. Not a huge deal, in fact, I am kind of an old hand at this.

Also, if my calculations are correct, November 30th is a Monday, which means I will have to work the following day. That sucks, but that also means I will probably purchase one less beer than I normally would. (Depending on the length of a show, I would normally purchase anywhere from two to four beers, give or take a substitute rum and Coke if I am feeling tired.) If I recall, drinks are in the $6-7 range. Subtract that from the ticket cost and now we're looking at around $63. Well, now I'm thinking, because the only other venue I could imagine the Pixies playing in town would be the 9:30 Club. Suppose they were playing there instead of DAR Constitution Hall. I would bus it there, and mostly likely try and cab it back (read the last paragraph of the previous post as to why). Being that it's not too far, the cab would probably cost $6-7, including tip. Not forgetting the $1.10 bus fare, bump the cab fare off the price, and all of a sudden, this ticket is in the $56 range just for the sheer reason that it's at DAR, and I can walk home and feel comfortable that no one is going to go all Avon Barksdale on me.

See, this is kind of fun, isn't it?

Another thing I considered was using my connections to somehow try and circumvent the price of the ticket, but then I remembered that I don't really have any connections. Maybe I could email someone in the Pixies camp to try and set up an interview or a show review in a lame attempt to get on the list. But I can't do that. For one, the chances of landing an interview with someone from the Pixies would probably be slim to none. And second, while I would love to talk with someone from the Pixies, it would never be so I could get into a show for free. That goes for any band. No, if I'm going to this show, this ticket is going to have to be purchased.

I honestly started writing this without being completely sure what I was going to do, or where this post was headed. But about five minutes ago, something dawned on me and I think it's going to be the ultimate decider in what my final decision will be. I have never seen the Pixies, and this is huge. It's not as if the Pixies have countless tours left in them. When it comes to seeing them, we are probably all playing with house money at this point. And with that, I keep thinking back to January 2007 when I had the opportunity to purchase a ticket to see the Bears play the Seahawks in the NFL Playoffs during the Bears' march to the Super Bowl. After being conflicted, I said to hell with it, and paid an obscene amount that I really couldn't afford at the time. And you know what, it ended up being totally worth it. (I'm not going to print how much the ticket cost to save a lecture in case my mom reads this.) When I look back at it now, I don't think about how much the ticket was, I think about how great of a time I had. And while this concert might not have the flair of a game-winning Robbie Gould field goal, it certainly has potential to be great. And a few years from now, will I think about how much the ticket cost, or how great it was to see the Pixies? I can almost guarantee and am hoping it will be the latter, which is why I am going to buy a ticket. Right now.

UPDATE: Tickets are gone. See what happens when you spend too much time thinking?

--Alex

8 Random (And Mostly) Musical Observations For Absolutely No Reason At All

2009-09-14T21:16:00.013-05:00

1. When did Kurt Cobain become the new Prophet Muhammad in that it's a sin to duplicate his likeness on screen? So he's in the new Guitar Hero and he can oddly sing a Bon Jovi song. Who cares. Well, it looks like Courtney Loves does. She has also lost her mind, because she clearly signed over the rights to Activision, makers of Guitar Hero, for them to use Cobain. How do I (and everyone else) know this? Because since she controls his estate, she would be the only one that would have the right to do this in the first place. Dave Grohl and Krist Novoselic aren't behaving much better, and are apparently demanding that Activision "relock" Cobain's character so he can't sing other artist's songs. Again, I can't find a part of my brain that thinks they should even care. If I could unlock George Clinton on NBA Jam on my old Super Nintendo and dunk the ball from half court, then surely it won't kill Kurt Cobain to belt out "Livin on a Prayer" every now and then. As an old Nirvana fan, the only thing that ever bothered me about Kurt Cobain was that he was always presented, or seemed to present himself, way too serious and completely humorless even though I'm sure he wasn't. But we should all thank Love and the surviving Nirvana members for keeping this myth alive.

2. I did not watch the MTV Video Music Awards the other night because the Bears' game was on and because it was the MTV Video Music Awards, but I did stumble across this fantastic picture of Joe Jackson (Michael's dad, not the guy who helped throw a World Series back in 1919 and didn't like wearing shoes) on the red carpet. If you ever wondered what a hybrid of Don Vito Corleone and Little Richard would look like after said hybrid decided to become a pimp, well, there you go. (And you know Jackson must look pretty ridiculous, when he looks even more ridiculous than his ridiculous looking date.) And speaking of the VMAs...

3. ...I love Kanye West, but it's getting harder and harder to defend him. At least his apology on that new Jay Leno show seemed sincere. And, the performance that followed with Jay-Z and Rhianna was pretty great, too.

4. Remember that Seinfeld episode with the Three Tenors where they kept referring to José Carreras as "the other guy?" I think the same thing is starting to happen with Monsters of Folk. I recently overheard someone telling their friend about this group on the bus. And he described them as Jim James, Conor Oberst, M. Ward, and "some other guy." Well, "some other guy" is actually Bright Eyes member Mike Mogis. (Please don't think I'm trying to cop a snobby attitude, I actually had to look it up myself. But now that we all know his name, let's keep calling him "some other guy." I like that much better, don't you?)

5. If you're looking to start an argument with a group of friends, just send them the latest Paul Shirley column where he pretty much calls the Beatles' music average and boring, while at the same time paying the requisite respect to their influence and legacy. Suffice to say, I loved it. And speaking of which...

6. ...this idea of reviewing the Beatles entire recently reissued catalog is stupid. I know both Paste and Pitchfork have done this. I'm sure others have as well, but this is pretty much akin to watching The Godfather and then writing a review blathering on about how good it is. Thanks, but billions of people have already beat you to the punch.

7. The 9:30 Club sucks. Not the venue itself, but the actual process of trying to buy tickets from their website, which works about as well as the Bears' fake punt the other night. The layout is just generally confusing, the system never remembers your password so you're forced to sign up for a new account with each purchase, and they add so many extra fees that it almost makes you want to swear off live music. The other day I purchased tickets for a Built To Spill show in October. The entire process seemed to take about half an hour, and to top it off, they charge $4 to mail you the tickets. And I'm not talking about having the tickets sent express or anything, I'm talking about the regular mail. I don't know how much stamps cost on their side of town, but over here it's still 43 (44?) cents.

8. Backing up a few months, over 4th of July weekend I attended a birthday party for one of my friends. He's Polish and had traveled to Maryland that day to stack up on some "fine" Polish vodka. We consumed a lot of it. This will come into play later. Ever the playlist dictator, as the evening went along, I took control of his iPod and with his permission implemented myself as dj. Not necessarily an easy task when you're dealing with a music catalog that is 90% Polish. But I found a few party favorites and cranked them out and everyone had a good time. One of the songs I played was "1979" by Smashing Pumpkins. As the evening wound down, and 3am had passed, I decided to walk about 1.5 miles home rather than take a cab. (Stupid.) I also decided to listen to my iPod while making the journey. (Very stupid.) And, I decided to take side streets through a dodgy neighborhood so the street noise from the main roads wouldn't drown out my music. (So incredibly stupid, it's nearly beyond comprehension.) Still having "1979" in my head, I decided to play Side 1 of Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness which I had not listened to in quite some time. While listening to Track 13, "Porcelina of the Vast Oceans," I was reminded of a mid-October day in 1995 when I saw this band at the Madison Theater in Peoria, Illinois, just before Mellon Collie was released. They opened with this song, and I had obviously never heard it before, but I remember thinking it was just incredible. (Looking back, the song is good but I would hardly call it incredible.) As I was recalling this memory, a man appeared from nowhere, lunged at me, and I before I knew it, I was on the ground being robbed at gunpoint. Wallet, phone, iPod...gone. (I really hope that guy liked $4, crappy phones, and rock music because that's what he got.) Nevertheless, I can't help but laugh to think that the same "incredible" song back in 1995 would one day serve as the soundtrack for a gun being pointed in my face. Why I even put myself in that situation is beyond me, but I'd prefer to place the blame on my foolish love for music and the Polish vodka.

--Alex

The Killers--Merriweather Post Pavilion, Columbia, Maryland

2009-09-01T19:09:00.015-05:00

(Everyone hates Ticketmaster and I am usually no exception. But I am going to give credit where credit is due. I had ordered two tickets to see the Killers earlier this week at Merriweather Post Pavilion, which is located about 25 miles north of my apartment in Columbia, Maryland. Come three days before the show, I still did not have any tickets even though they had been ordered way far in advanced. I did not have the tickets because they were lost in the mail, along with a few other semi-important things that I needed. Upon calling the number that was attached to my confirmation email, I was immediately connected (without having to listen to even a single recording) to an overtly friendly and helpful woman who, in less than five minutes, saved the day with little questions asked and issued me two new tickets. All I had to do was show up at the will call window with photo identification and the credit card that I used to purchase the tickets. It was almost too easy. One might even call it an exercise in "convenience." And a lesser company would probably charge for such a...oh, shit...nevermind.)

Anyway, I have been to plenty of outdoor music festivals in recent years, but had not been to one of these "cookie-cutter" outdoor amphitheaters like Merriweather Post Pavilion in probably ten years. But only the parking and seating situation at Merriweather is generic. The rest of it feels like a zoo. Literally. Yes, there are a lot of people, but there are even more trees that turn the surrounding area into a forest that is disturbed only by a nice stream of water, and a trail that leads to the venue. There are wooden signs nailed all along the campus trail that contain useful information for a Merriweather novice like myself. For instance, I learned in 1971 a "little known" Led Zeppelin opened for the Who at this very venue. That's a fun fact, but I had a feeling they were using the words "little known" a bit liberally. I was right. When I got home I checked Zeppelin's discography and learned that 1971 was the year they released their commercially celebrated untitled fourth album. This means they already had their self-titled debut, II, and III under their belt. Surely they were pretty well-known by this point, right? Or who knows, maybe most people left that show thinking, "Wow, the Who were great, but what was the name of that loud opening band again? And was that Janis Joplin singing? I thought she was dead!"

We had lawn seats, and found a decent spot in shallow right-center field while opening act Wolfmother played. If you're unfamiliar with Wolfmother, just think Dragonforce meets the fictional band Stillwater from Almost Famous. Confused? Hey, me too. But nevermind that, one great thing about Merriweather are the large screens affixed around the venue for the viewing pleasure of those in the lawn. They are almost so crisp and clear that you feel guilty if you catch yourself gazing at them instead of the stage, and you wonder if paying decent money just to see something that you could have watched at home on television was a stupid choice, but then you realize such an event isn't televised in the first place anyway, and it dawns on you that the last five minutes spent wondering whether staring at the screens cheapened the experience was a complete waste. (This thought sequence really did play out in my mind. I suck.)

Another great thing about the video screens was between bands they displayed a reel of different texts that audience members were sending to a number finely displayed on the screen. Most were about the Killers (ex: "r we human?"), although one was a proposal (ex: "jen will u marry me? i luv u. chris") which seemed to lead to a series of mock proposals. I decided to get in on the action. I won't repeat what I sent but let's just say it was not posted. Even worse, I quickly got a text back that stated I had somehow agreed to be notified of all Merriweather events. Just what I needed. This better not be like the time last summer when I signed up to be notified via text of Barack Obama's running mate, only to be inundated for the next three months at all hours of the day with mindless text "alerts" and borderline spam.

By the time the Killers took the stage it was dark, and we were sitting motionless on a blanket not buying beer. (Beer was in the range of $8 which explains why everyone was tailgating in the parking lot before the show.) The reaction to everyone in my vicinity when the band did finally emerge was almost astonishing. I saw friends hugging, girls immediately dancing. People just love this band. And the Killers crowd is much different than what I'm used to. I saw twelve-year-olds with their parents (probably why they wouldn't show my text), couples in their late 40s, pretty much all walks of life. I could have been at a baseball game and I would not have been able to tell the difference. Remember with the release of Sam's Town when it seemed the Killers had set out to become the biggest band in America? Well, I think they did it.

Also, I really like this band. A small fraction of their appeal is the contrarian nature of their bravado when compared to most bands I listen to. In the Lollapalooza post I wrote that I began to like the Killers as soon as everyone else decided they were no longer cool. This might not be entirely accurate. For starters, I am not sure those that dislike the Killers ever thought they were cool. They were always a part of the mainstream, even before Hot Fuss blew up. In my world, they first took the form of a guilty pleasure. But after hearing "Read My Mind" from Sam's Town and being unable to remove it from my head, I finally pushed all of my chips to the center of the table and decided I was all in. And I do respect the fact that the Killers welcome the idea of mass appeal at the possible expense of street-cred. But as stated, mostly I like their songs. There just aren't many bands with the lifespan of only three albums with this many hits.

Even their songs that I wouldn't consider "hits" sound like hits in concert. For example, they opened with "Joy Ride" from their latest Day & Age, which is a song I have never cared for, but I was completely sold with the disco-esque bassline and lead singer Brandon Flowers hitting every note with vocal chords that I wasn't even aware he had. And he's a great frontman, almost like a modern day Mick Jagger the way he struts around stage and owns the crowd. He's very pleased with himself and is certainly cocky, but there is a tongue-in-cheek element involved that makes it work.

As for the rest of the set, if there is a Killers song that you like, they probably played it. A few that left an impression were "Somebody Told Me," and their latest hit "Human," which contains the unanswerable question "Are we human/or are we dancer?" Umm, yes? You know, no one really has any clue what that lyric means, but if you listen to the song more than three times there is no reason to care because you will realize that the song is awesome. (And the fact that so many people still talk about that lyric makes it brilliant in my book.)

Before the encore, they dusted off staples "Mr. Brightside" and "All These Things That I've Done," the latter of which included the appropriate "I got soul/but I'm not a soldier" sing-along from the entire crowd before the band sauntered off stage. They returned and played "Believe Me Natalie" which, if I recall, included pyrotechnics that from my vantage point seemed to be raining down on top of drummer Ronnie Vannucci. Subtle, the Killers are not, and probably never will be. Flowers then informed the crowd that they were going to play their final song as hard as they possibly could, and launched into "When You Were Young." This was my first time seeing the Killers so I was forced to take Flowers's word for it, but I would be shocked if what he said was disingenuous. That song is nearly a victim of its own grandiosity-it will never be able to be anything other than a closer.

Like any good outdoor amphitheater, leaving Merriweather was complete hell as cars were stuck at a stand-still in the parking lot for a good hour. At one point I asked one of the girls I was with, "Can you tell if any cars are moving, or are we dancer?" (I was the only one that thought this was hilarious.) The cars were not even thinking of moving, so we were most certainly dancer. But had it not been for the accommodating people at Ticketmaster, we would have been nothing at all.

--Alex

Top 20 Songs of the 2000s: Another Opinion

2009-08-31T23:04:00.003-05:00

Everyone has their list of the top 20 songs of the decade whether they know it or not. And everyone uses different criteria to make that list. My process was to take my subjective favorite songs from the decade and then try to pick the objective best 20 of those. While I didn't have a hard rule, I made an effort to keep it one song per artist for a little more variety. Thus, this isn't a true top 20. Also, the order would probably change on any given day. I'm kind of surprised that some bands didn't make the cut (The Strokes, The Knife, McLusky), but they will all certainly appear on any future albums of the decade list. Anyway, enjoy.

20. "You Know You're Right" - Nirvana
Why: This might be cheating a bit because it was recorded in the '90s, but it's my favorite Nirvana studio song by far and, I think, their best. Listening to it makes me sad that we tragically didn't get to hear an album of this stuff.
Best Part: 0:57 - "Paaaaaaaaiiin!"

19. "Paper Tiger" - Spoon
Why: It's an odd song, to be sure, built on a few austere organ chords. But because it is odd, it stands out on Kill the Moonlight and becomes that great album's heart.
Best part: 2:43 - "I will be there with you when you turn out the light."

18. "Emily Kane" - Art Brut
Why: It's a perfect punk-pop song. Not pop-punk. That shit sucks.
Best Part: The last, fist pumping minute.

17. "PDA" - Interpol
Why: I'm pretty sure I have Turn on the Bright Lights to thank for getting me into anything British from the '80s. It's a very big thanks. "PDA" is, by a nose, my favorite song from that album.
Best Part: 3:55 to the end. It's pretty.

16. "Toxicity" - System of a Down
Why: It perfectly straddles the line between rock and metal and is a killer song in either genre.
Best Part: 3:02 - When Tankian's incredible voice comes back for an encore.

15. "Kissing the Beehive" - Wolf Parade
Why: It's long, it's weird, it has some uncomfortable time signatures, and it has distinct parts, but it's probably the high point of Wolf Parade's lifespan, including anything they do from here on out.
Best Part: 10:27 - The reprise of the chanting first heard at the 3:36 mark.

14. "Hounds of Love" - The Futureheads
Why: Best cover ever.
Best Part: 2:24 - When the drums reset everything and the Futureheads begin to tear through to the end.

13. "The Grudge" - Tool
Why: Story time. I was in Myrtle Beach for post-exams when Lateralus came out. I went with two friends to buy it (along with REM's Reveal, and Weezer's Green Album) at some mall we found somewhere. One of these friends is a huge Tool fan and had been waiting for this album for, I don't know, six years or something. We got back to the house we were renting and went to separate rooms to listen to it on the Discmans (Discmen?) we brought for this one purpose. We must have started listening at about the same time because right after "The Grudge" ended on the copy I was listening to, my friend came into my room with the biggest fucking smile I have ever seen plastered on his face. I knew why.
Best Part: 6:58 - Maynard's scream.

12. "Empty Cans" - The Streets
Why: Spoiler alert: he finds his money. It was in the TV. In the TV. Yes, you're right, that doesn't make any sense. And it doesn't matter.
Best Part: 3:30 - When the piano kicks in. Might be my favorite three notes of any song I've ever heard.

11. "Kissing the Lipless" - The Shins
Why: Oh Inverted World was cute. This first song from its follow up was a statement announcing that The Shins were serious and were here to stay.
Best Part: 0:52 - When it, sort of shockingly, picks up.

10. "A Certain Romance" - Arctic Monkeys
Why: It's a really, really smart song disguised as NME hype-of-the-week. Alex Turner is good.
Best Part: 2:06 - "There's only music so that there's new ringtones"

9. "Postcards From Italy" - Beirut
Why: How did a teenager write this? God, this is heartbreaking.
Best Part: 1:08 - When the horns kick in.

8. "Leaf House" - Animal Collective
Why: Play it in the fall when it's raining. You'll see.
Best Part: 2:00 - The abrupt change from sleepy to uplifting.

7. "The Rat" - The Walkmen
Why: Needs no explanation.
Best Part: 2:30 - "When I used to go out I would know everyone that I saw / Now I go out alone if I go out at all"

6. "Time For Heroes" - The Libertines
Why: Every decade, there's a song that just sounds like England. This is the '00s version.
Best Part: 1:24 - "There's fewer more distressing sights than that of an / English man in a baseball cap".

5. "Reckoner" - Radiohead
Why: The best band of the decade's best song of the decade. This does not automatically make it the best song of the decade. Anyone using this logic (best player on best team) to vote for Mark Teixiera for AL MVP over Mauer is a fool and an asshole.
Best Part: The fade-out at the end.

4. "Goin' Against Your Mind" - Built to Spill
Why: It's just fucking epic.
Best Part: 5:30 - "Thought it was an alien / turned out to be just God."

3. "3rd Planet" - Modest Mouse
Why: While "Float On" is, understandably, the more popular song, "3rd Planet" is the band's best.
Best Part: 0:55 - "Your Heart felt good / it was dripping pitch and made of wood / and your hands and knees / felt cold and wet on the grass to me." One of my favorite lyrics ever.

2. "Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)" - The Arcade Fire
Why: I've heard this song maybe a hundred times and it still gives me cold chills.
Best Part: 3:00 - When the tempo picks up again, this time for good.

1. "Hey Ya!" - Outkast
Why: Lost of great songs have a simplicity that makes me think "I could have done that if I knew how to play a guitar/use Protools/use a 4-track." Not this one. It is expert and mad, complicated, unique, and perfect.
Best Part: 2:46 - "Shake it like a Polaroid picture."

--Jim Powers

Top 20 Songs of the 2000s

2009-08-26T18:12:00.006-05:00

I mentioned in the last post that Pitchfork recently listed what they thought were the top 500 songs of the 2000s. It was a pretty good list, and as I was reading it I found myself thinking, "Yeah, that would be on mine," (or "Who the hell is Jackson And His Computer Band?"), and as this list was forming in my brain, I grabbed a pen and started to jot them down. Of the 30-35 that came to mind, 20 seemed to really stick out as songs that "define the decade." What does that mean? That means ten years from now they will all be lumped together on some terrible compilation album that can only be purchased by dialing some 1-800 number. No, actually, it really doesn't mean anything. These are just songs that I have a feeling I will remember. And these aren't necessarily my favorite songs of the decade, although some of them are, and the others I like very much (that was a prerequisite), but more like songs from 2000-2009 that I feel have the ability to pull numerous people into the wonderful world of music and are damn good. The number one song notwithstanding, there really is no significance to the order, it took approximately two minutes to put together and just seemed right at the time. This list is not comprehensive, and no less than five seconds after this is posted, some song will pop into my head that should have been on it, but I'll just save that for the comments. Feel free to do the same. Here we go:

20. "Stuck Between Stations" - The Hold Steady
19. "Wolf Like Me" - TV On The Radio
18. "The Funeral" - Band Of Horses
17. "Last Night" - The Strokes
16. "Crazy" - Gnarls Barkley
15. "99 Problems" - Jay-Z
14. "Clocks" - Coldplay
13. "All My Friends" - LCD Soundsystem
12. "I Am Trying To Break Your Heart" - Wilco
11. "The Rat" - The Walkmen
10. "Chicago" - Sufjan Stevens
9. "Mr. Brightside" - The Killers
8. "Such Great Heights" - The Postal Service
7. "Float On" - Modest Mouse
6. "Idioteque" - Radiohead
5. "Do You Realize??" - The Flaming Lips
4. "Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)" - The Arcade Fire
3. "Paper Planes" - M.I.A.
2. "Hey Ya" - Outkast
1. "Fell In Love With A Girl" - The White Stripes

"Fell In Love With A Girl" is not the best White Stripes song from the past decade. "Seven Nation Army" probably is. In fact, it probably isn't even the best White Stripes song from White Blood Cells. "Dead Leaves And The Dirty Ground" might be. But this song matters more and here's why. I remember watching the MTV Video Music Awards in 2002 back when the VMAs were a total train wreck, but also extremely watchable if not completely unavoidable. (I presume they are now just a train wreck.) The usual suspects were there: Eminem, Nelly, Avril Lavigne, etc. But because of a pretty cool lego-like animated video, so were the White Stripes. They seemed out of place, the song seemed out of place, and I loved it. Maybe it wasn't as monumental as my memory suggests, but at the time it seemed to hint that decent rock music was seeping back into the mainstream for the first time in about ten years. And if the other 19 songs are any indication, it is one of my earliest memories in what turned out to be a pretty good decade in music.

--Alex Crisafulli

7 Random (And Mostly) Musical Observations To End The Summer

2009-08-23T09:16:00.009-05:00

1. Well, it ended over two weeks ago, but Jim DeRogatis is still hammering away at Lollapalooza. (I think he has officially reached "curmudgeon" status.) He is now calling it...wait for it..."Wal-Mart on the Lake." Well done. I grew up in a town of 16,000, and had no idea all those years I was going to a "Lollapalooza by the Burger King" to buy socks. Maybe Lincoln, Illinois, is more hip than I ever knew.

2. Walking around DC, I have seen a lot of these "Michael Jackson: August 29, 2008 - June 25, 2009" memorial t-shirts. Has anyone else noticed that MJ's picture on these shirts is usually circa 1984, and not circa 2003? Wonder why that could be? Hey, speaking of which...

3. ...the night he died, I decided out of all the possible tributes that seemed to be everywhere, I would watch whatever MTV had whipped up. Seemed fiiting, right? Problem is, I realized at that moment I had no idea what channel MTV was on. I was going to search my DirecTV guide but then realized I didn't really care and just watched CNN. That's how far MTV has fallen. And it has been that way for awhile. I guess it doesn't really matter, Youtube has essentially rendered MTV obsolete anyway.

4. Pitchfork recently unveiled what they considered to be the top 500 tracks of the 2000s. Numbers 500-200 are worth a skim, 199-21 can be read if you have time, and check out their top 20 because I thought they were pretty solid. Later this week, I'll post what I think are the top 10 or so songs of this decade. (Yes, hold on to your butts.)

5. Staying on Pitchfork, the Lala add-on to their revamped site is fantastic. Today, as I was reading Joe Tangari's review of the Arctic Monkeys' new album Humbug, I utilized the Lala play feature along the way and thought to myself, "Tangari is exactly right. The song 'Potion Approaching' DOES in fact opt for Zeppelin-ish start-stop passages that read just like 'Achilles Last Stand' but recast as a Britpop tune before shifting completely into a seesawing, almost mild-like psychedelic mid-section." I couldn't have written it better myself. (Honestly, I couldn't have, album reviews are harder than they seem. I think I would rather tell an Aristocrats joke at someone's wake than have to write album reviews for a living.) And still staying on Pitchfork...

6. ...I don't feel all that comfortable making light of this, since it is for charity, but I had to laugh when I read this story about an ebay auction for a shirt designed by Jeff Mangum. (For what it's worth, I'm not laughing at the charity, I am laughing at Ryan Dombal's c-jerk write-up.) Last I saw, the highest bid for the shirt was $305, with the proceeds going to help homeless children in Mongolia. And if a t-shirt that didn't look like it would survive more than three or four cycles in the wash just wasn't your thing, you also could have bid on a vinyl copy of Neutral Milk Hotel's first album On Avery Island. Oh, but that wasn't all! What if I were to tell you that the record was autographed by Mangum, and (AND!!!) even had his thumbprint?! Might that be something you would have been interested in? Of course it would! The highest bid I saw was $164.27 and that was with nine hours to go. But sorry, the bidding is over. (Why was the autographed record going for so much less than the t-shirt?) And I know that the homeless problem in Mongolia is a pretty serious issue today for most Americans, so if you missed out on the auction, please check out this link. (Okay, maybe I am sort of making fun of the charity, and that makes me feel like a jerk. So honestly, click on that link, you'll learn some pretty interesting facts about homeless children in Mongolia. For starters, it appears Richard Gere may or may not be one of them.)

7. Two things help heal the wounds of a disappearing summer. The beginning of football season (for all of us Bears fans, I must say, it's gonna be a good year, I can just tell), and fall concerts. For whatever reason, September and October just always seem to be stock-full with great shows. This was definitely true in Chicago, and it's still true in DC. I'm not sure if every band is trying to get one last tour in before winter rolls around, or if they're just looking to have a return to normalcy after a summer of music festivals, but my fall is pretty much booked and I am not complaining. So if you happen to live near a music venue, be sure to check out the schedule. Your favorite band is probably stopping by soon.

--Alex

2009 Lollapalooza: Sunday (From Miles and Miles Away)

2009-08-10T19:39:00.014-05:00

Lollapalooza was this past weekend in Chicago. I heard it was a great time, but I wouldn't know. Well, not really. I was actually 700 miles away in Washington, DC, where this past Sunday it was a typical August day in the District: hot, humid, and feeling like hell. It was in the mid-to-high 90's and may have been the hottest day of the year. After spending the morning on a walk running some errands and braving the hellements, I said screw that, and headed indoors where my air conditioner was working at such a furious pace, it was actually yelling "fuck you" at every Smart Car that drove by.

I knew some of my friends were at Lollapalooza, and I also knew that iClips.net was video streaming portions of the festival. It was also hot in Chicago, and just because my friends were sweating themselves silly in Grant Park, didn't mean I had to be. I put on an old pair of Umbros (yep), grabbed a lemonade and tuned in. This is what I saw:

The first band I caught was the Airborne Toxic Event. I have never really listened to this crew, and they seemed intriguing (sort of like Interpol only without the sharp looks and deodorant), but what struck me was how great the video feed was. Clear and crisp with great angles of the stage, crowd, and city. That's what I call production. For those wondering where the price of their ticket was going, it was so people like me who didn't buy a ticket could also enjoy the festivities. Thanks! And let me tell you, this is the way to take in a festival. Whenever I got bored with the Airborne Toxic Event, I would check out my fantasy baseball team (currently in 2nd place, no big deal), walk over to my kitchen and make a drink, or just lie down on my bed and take a power nap. This is the life. Oh, and if you think for a second that I wasn't texting my friends and asking them rather mockingly how the weather was at Grant Park, you're crazy.

According to iClips, Dan Deacon would be featured next. This is something I really wanted to see. A lot of people said that his last album was really good, but I could never bring myself to listen to it. Deacon has just always seemed like one of those acts that needs to be seen and heard, and not just heard. (I have made a promise to myself to listen to a Dan Deacon record very soon.) After preparing a bowl of Edy's Double Fudge Brownie ice cream and returning to my computer, it came to my attention that the feed was down. I have no idea what happened, but do know that iClips user korm5421 was not happy about it. He posted about three or four angry messages. (If you scroll through the message board, you'll see that he was complaining nearly every five minutes the entire day.) By the time the feed rebounded, Deacon was onstage with what looked like an entire marching band, and he had somehow commanded the massive crowd to create a large hole near the center of the stage. One guy was in the middle doing some slow dance moves, and the surrounding crowd was mimicking him. Once the music got going, the crowd just erupted and went crazy. People were jumping, crowd surfing, and rioting. It kind of made me wish I was there, but that thinking ended with my next bite of ice cream.

The Kaiser Chiefs were up next. They did not sound well, and I headed to the living room and turned on the television where I was immediately treated to a live concert on HDNet by the Barenaked Ladies. Now seemed as good of time as any to stick my face in the fan. Luckily, I soon found Major League on AMC. Great movie, but boy does it suffer without the curse words.

I faded in and out of sleep and eventually made my way back to my computer for the Cold War Kids. It was at this point where I tried to watch the band and the movie at the same time. I wasn't accomplishing either objective so I turned off the television. As the band was playing "Hospital Beds" I noticed some guy crowd surfing. I know it has been said countless times, but it really does look douchey when someone is crowd surfing at a completely inopportune time. Really, it does. I learned this the hard way at GG Allin's funeral. (Too soon?)

Snoop Dogg was next on the feed. Holla. The crowd looked absolutely enormous, and I don't think I have ever been in a crowd that big. At one point I think I heard Snoop (shockingly) say, "Put your motherfucking hands in the air," but I can't verify this because I was too engulfed in a mesmerizing profile about great white sharks on 60 Minutes. Allegedly, the recent increase in shark attacks on humans might be connected to humans increasingly seeking out great white sharks. Yeah, and Snoop might be high. At the end of Snoop's set (great white sharks trump Snoop, but Andy Rooney does not), he led the crowd in an impressive chorus of "Na na na na/Na na na na/Hey hey hey/Snoop Dogg." Believe me, it sounded much cooler than it reads.

Fuzzy guitar lovin' Silversun Pickups were stuck with the task of following Snoop. Always fun. I wasn't digging them at first, and even found lead singer Brian Aubert to be slightly annoying any time he tried to scream out a note. However, I thought they got stronger as they went on, and by the time they closed with "Lazy Eye," I was really feeling it. That's an incredible single, and they nailed it. (Although I texted my friend Bret who was there right afterwards to express my enjoyment, and he told me that he thought they sucked. Maybe just maybe, watching the festival over a computer in a different time zone doesn't exactly capture the experience.)

The next three hours were just filler for me (Portugal. The Man, STS9, Neko Case), until the day's headliners, Jane's Addiction and the Killers, were set to close out the weekend. The iClipse site was still listing the 11:30 cst timeslot as TBA, so I had no idea who I would get to watch, and rather than just spend the next few hours staring at my computer, I killed a couple of hours and watched Iron Man on Netflix. Cool movie.

One of the reasons I am sort of relieved I wasn't at Lollapalooza is because it would have sucked having to choose between Jane's Addiction and the Killers. I love both. I realized I was a big fan of the Killers right about the same time it was decided that they were no longer cool. Interestingly enough, this same thing happened to me in high school with OJ Simpson. (Too soon?) But speaking of high school, Jane's Addiction, pretty much the namesake of the festival, was one of my favorite bands way back when, and I have never seen them. So I probably would have decided to linger near their stage, but man, it would have been a tough decision. Good thing at home I had iClipse to make the decision for me. Problem is, when the schedule popped up, it said we would be watching Jane's Addiction but only from 11:30 to 11:45. Fifteen minutes? We were given Bat for Lashes for an entire hour, but only get Jane's Addiction for 15 minutes? Oh, well. Also, the schedule was on central standard time, so this meant I had to stay up until 12:30 am. On a work night, no less. No matter, I was going to do it.

I grabbed a book and laid down on my bed to kill the final hour. I was naive, I didn't stand a chance. I think I fell asleep approximately ten minutes later, only to wake up around 2:15 am with all the lights and computer still on, and 3 Nights in August lying on top of me. I got up and turned out the lights, and briefly considered playing a few Jane's Addiction tracks before officially calling it a night, but thought the better of it. Sometimes you just have to be there.

--Alex

Why Are Certain Chicago Music Critics Still Whining About Lollapalooza?

2009-08-05T19:44:00.011-05:00

Ever since Lollapalooza reinvented itself with the parnternship of Perry Farrell and C3 Presents and arrived at Chicago's doorstep in 2005, it hasn't exactly been welcomed with open arms by everyone. It seems every year on the heels of the festival the main music critics in town line up to take their shots, be it at the lineup, the corporate backing, or with misplaced comparisons to the Pitchfork Festival. Jim DeRogatis of the Chicago Sun-Times seems to annually slam the festival, or, if he must, begrudgingly deliver compliments in a backhanded fashion. Last Friday, Greg Kot of the Chicago Tribune was the latest to get his digs in, with a piece entitled Lollapalooza Promoters Still Searching for Chicago Identity. Kot seems to argue that Lollapalooza hasn't done enough to embrace and identify with Chicago. He writes:

But questions remain about how fully Lollapalooza has embraced and been embraced by Chicago beyond the considerable revenue it brings to the local economy. In staging the biggest annual rock festival in the city’s history on Chicago’s showcase property, C3 is held to a particularly high standard. So far it has executed a hugely successful festival with few hitches. But the organization remains at arm’s length from the city’s music community – more of a formidable interloper than a trusted accomplice.

Questions remain? Questions from whom? Probably not from those that bought the 225,000 tickets. Also, the fact that Lollapalooza has recently signed on to remain in Chicago through at least 2018 should quell any questions as to where their loyalties lie. And my guess is the last sentence in that paragraph stems from the "radius clause" that is in the contract for all of the bands that play Lollapalooza, which basically restricts them from playing local venues 90 days before or after the festival. I agree that these clauses are stupid and wholly unnecessary, but they are pretty typical for all large festivals. And the bands that play Lollapalooza never seem to have much trouble arranging an aftershow, or even playing the city a few days before or after the festival. The policy seems to be, ask the promoters if you can play, and they will let you play. If there has been a case of a band being refused a show after asking , I have not heard of it.

Not saying that I would have heard about it. I am a mere casual observer and fan of live music, I am not on the inside, nor privy to some of the politicking that goes on in certain Chicago music circles. That being said, I wonder if the bitterness directed at Lollapalooza is less about the radius clauses and more about the promoters not kissing the right asses. And I am not wondering rhetorically, I am asking because I don't know.

What I do know is, I can't think of a single person that I have talked to that has had a negative experience at Lollapalooza since its rebirth in Chicago. The main (and nearly only) complaint that comes to mind is the size of the crowd, which can make it difficult to maneuver from stage to stage. (And the off-shoot complaint, which is that the large crowd sometimes results in poor or non-existent cell phone service.)

Even more stupid, in my opinion, is this idea that the festival hasn't fully "embraced Chicago." In recent years, Chicago heavyweights Wilco and Kanye West have headlined Lollapalooza. I seem to remember Lupe Fiasco on a stage as well. And even small time and relatively unknown local acts like Cameron McGill have been included. I guess Oprah needs to be invited to appease some of these people.

I have heard others complain about the lack of Chicago "identity" at the festival. Oh, brother. Lollapalooza is stationed in Grant-freakin'-Park, under the glow of arguably the most beautiful skyline in the world. And second, does it really matter? Does the music not suffice? Last year everyone seemed to enjoy Radiohead just fine. Are you telling me it would be a much more fulfilling experience if everyone was up to their necks in stuffed pizzas and crooked politicians, too?

Everyone should just enjoy Lollapalooza for what it is, which is a world-class, three-day rock music festival that is slowly becoming a staple of Chicago summers. The Chicago identity and mutual embrace will slowly come, and the kinks will slowly go. But in the meantime, speaking as a former Chicago resident not yet 18-months removed, just feel lucky to have something so great in your backyard.

UPDATE: Almost right on cue, here is DeRogatis's annual whiny column from Saturday's Sun-Times. I am pretty sure it's the same article every year, he just changes the names of the bands.

--Alex

2009 Pitchfork Festival: Sunday

2009-07-23T18:09:00.009-05:00

In the five years (or four, if you are worried about semantics) of the Pitchfork Festival, I cannot think of a better day of music than what was offered last Sunday. The day started with Frightened Rabbit, who, last year, released one of my favorite albums ever, and ended with the Flaming Lips, who are one of my top-five favorite bands of all-time. Sandwiched between were about three or four acts that were as good as anyone I saw on Saturday. (Oh, and before we get started, a few people have asked me why there are no pictures. And the reason is, I am still trying to milk life out of the same camera that I dropped in a beer during Dinosaur Jr at last year's festival. It still sort of works, but pictures taken during the daytime are very fuzzy and hardly viewable. My friend Brendan pointed out that if I am willing to purchase a plane ticket from DC to Chicago to attend this festival, it might be time to go ahead and pony up for a new camera. Never!)

When writing about David Foster Wallace's highly-acclaimed novel, Infinite Jest, Walter Kirn of New York Magazine wrote, "Next year's book awards have been decided...the competition has been obliterated." When it comes to break-up records, this is how I feel about Frightened Rabbit's The Midnight Organ Fight. (Side note: I will give anyone $50 if they can somehow credibly verify that they, in the last year, have walked into Tryst in DC on 18th Street and not witnessed someone reading, trying to read, or pretending to read Infinite Jest. I'm not kidding, fifty bucks.) The album really is that good, and that is why we made sure we were at Union Park by 1:30. Frightened Rabbit opened with "The Modern Leper," which will sound like a hit song the very first time you hear it. But The Midnight Organ Fight is a break-up record through and through, and their excellent song "Good Arms Vs. Bad Arms" ends with the line, "I am still in love with you/Can't admit it yet," only conspicuously Hutchison didn't sing this part. I notice these things. They ended the set with a hard-charged "The Greys" which eventually morphed into something I didn't recognize. The band brought more energy than I was expecting or knew was capable from the Scottish four-piece, and before long only drummer Grant Hutchison was left on stage menacingly scowling at the crowd, and pounding on his drums before triumphantly throwing his arms up in the air, and strutting off stage. For something so inocuous and most likely forgotten by 95% of the crowd, it gave me goosebumps and may have been my favorite moment of the weekend.

In between bands I spotted a skinny, raggedy kid with shaggy hair walking around with scissors and a sign that read "Cut my hair." Festival goers would randomly come up and grab the scissors and take a few snips. I saw him a couple of hours later and his hair looked great. And by "great," I mean "fucking awful." But hey, way to save $8!

Ever watched a band from a distance and thought, "Wow, I am going to start listening to them more as soon as I get home"? This was my line of thinking during Blizten Trapper, who sounded excellent. What was amazing was how many of their songs from their last two albums stuck out in my mind as they were playing them. It really felt like hit song after hit song. And I believe they had the same time slot and the same stage as their fellow Brawny-Paper-Towels-sponsored band, Fleet Foxes the year before. I can almost guarantee right now there is a band from the Pacific Northwest with a propensity to grow decent beards, that is unknown at the moment, but is two months away from signing with Sub Pop, and four months away from an 8.7 rating on Pitchfork that will be on this stage at this time in 2010. It will happen, you just watch.

And speaking of bands from the Pacific Northwest that will now be receiving more air-time in the Crisafulli household, the Thermals gave me just what I wanted out of a band at a music festival. They were loud, energetic, and even played some covers. Hell, they opened with a cover--Sonic Youth's "100%." They also played some Nirvana, the Breeders, and Green Day. But most impressive, during their set was this guy that was standing in front of us with a yellow Michael Jackson t-shirt that danced throughout the entire set. He didn't stop once and danced well the entire time.

If Hamilton Leithauser of the Walkmen isn't the best frontman alive, then he is one of the best. Everytime he belted out one of his trademark wails, the crowd around me would "oooh" and "aaah" as if they were watching a 4th of July fireworks display. However, something happened during their set which I feel compelled to share. Right as the Walkmen started to play "The Rat," a guy next to me fainted. He just went out cold and hit the ground like a sack of potatoes. Luckily, I was standing next to a doctor (she requested not to be named, so we will just refer to her as Aud***). I immediately summoned Aud***'s attention, pointed out the guy on the ground, and assumed we were in good hands. Bad assumption. Aud*** took one look at him, and turned her attention back to the Walkmen. To her defense, "The Rat" is one of the best rock songs ever. But be that as it may, we had a doctor in the house, and the guy I saw that ended up finally attending to this poor sap was smoking marijuana moments before this happened. Aud*** will tell the story a bit differently, but this is exactly how I remembered it happening. (For those worried, the guy that went down came to a few moments later and after some water seemed okay and headed to a less crowded area.) As for the Walkmen, they played mostly stuff from last year's You & Me (voted best album of 2008 in some circles), only reaching back for the aforementioned "The Rat" and a few tracks from A Hundred Miles Off. They were great, but as I have said before, we expected that.

Scott brought up an excellent point concerning M83. They had the same vibe that Spiritualized did last year. They were onstage, we were minding our own business, and about a third of the way through, everyone seemed to realize something great was happening. I was in this camp and will be listening to a lot more of M83. Leading non-crooner Anthony Gonzalez still needs some lessons in throwing down though.

I still don't understand the fascination with Grizzly Bear, but you know what, God bless 'em because 18,500 hipsters can't be wrong. (Actually, they can be wrong, and often are wrong. Most notably every morning when they get up and pick out something to wear.)

I had been excited for weeks to see headliners the Flaming Lips in this setting: Chicago, my favorite music festival, with friends, and under the glow of the Willis Tower. Alright, so maybe not everything was perfect. But Willis Tower be damned, when Wayne came out in his patented rubber ball and surfed the crowd just before the band played "Race for the Prize," at that moment it was perfect. Unfortunately, perfection can be fleeting, and the Flaming Lips were actually a bit disappointing. They were participating in the "fans write the setlist" gimmick that was present on Friday, only Wayne didn't seem like he really wanted to be involved. Not that I can blame him, and I actually enjoyed it when he seemed to be mocking the entire premise. Problem is, that seemed to dominate their set, and I'm not sure they played more than nine songs. And I hated the way they played "Fight Test" and "Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots, Part 1." Hated it. They were slow and stripped down, almost as if we were watching Wayne sing them acappella in the shower. And Wayne kept trying to get everyone to sing along, but that's pretty hard when the tempo is completely unpredictable. The following day, Jim stated, "I had to go home and listen to those songs to remember what they sounded like and why I actually like them. That's...that's not good!" No, no it isn't. They did hit "Bad Days" from my favorite Flaming Lips album, but even that sounded stale. (Wayne dedicated the song to Sun Times music critic/journalist Jim DeRogatis, who has written a biography on the Flaming Lips. DeRogatis was promptly booed. Imagine if the Bears were to win the Super Bowl and Brian Urlacher gave the game ball to Jay Mariotti. It was kind of like that. But do not feel sorry for DeRogatis, I am sure at this point in his career he can handle it.)

I was starting to get restless and realized that they had only played a handful of song with twenty minutes remaining before the 10pm neighborhood curfew took effect. Not cool. What was cool was the Flaming Lips' set and stage show which is never disappointing, and the large screen monitors provided by Pitchfork that showed the enormous crowd that was still sticking around for the final act of what had been a long weekend. It was amazing how large the crowd was and I can definitely say there has never been a crowd like that at one stages in the, albeit brief, history of this festival. It was truly amazing. And the band did pick up momentum with their final two songs: "She Don't Use Jelly," which was accompanied by the video on the large screen behind the band, which was a nice step back in time, and "Do You Realize" which was deservedly voted number one in terms of songs fans wished the band to play. That song is nearly worth the price of admission alone, and though it wasn't a perfect Flaming Lips' set, it was a good note to leave on.

--Alex

2009 Pitchfork Festival: Saturday

2009-07-22T20:19:00.008-05:00

Saturday's lineup of the 2009 Pitchfork Festival was a bit weak when compared to Friday and Sunday. Nevertheless, we made an honest effort to arrive at Union Park somewhat early. Jim and I were staying at a friend's place in Edgewater and took the Damen Bus the entire way. Is it really necessary for the bus to stop at every half block? Why doesn't the CTA just have it stop at every single residence along the way and get it over with. We could have gotten there faster had we walked backwards.

No matter, we made it before 2:30, and that is when hardcore whatever band, Fucked Up, from Toronto was set to play. I wrote over a month ago (yet, just two posts ago) that Fucked Up's set was destined to be the highlight of the weekend, so I was filled with a decent amount of anticipation. They emerged, led by singer Damian Abraham who looks like the cross between a fat guy and another even fatter guy, and immediately launched into "Son the Father," which is most likely the best song from their 2008 album The Chemistry of Common Life. The crowd was pretty into it, and the band was doing their best to make sure the crowd stayed into it, but, unfortunately the sound was pretty weak. (This has been a slightly onerous reoccurring theme that pops up at every Pitchfork Festival.) I almost felt like it needed to be louder, especially Abraham's vocals. Other than that, things were fine, and like David Yow the night before, Abraham spent a decent amount of time in the crowd. He was even on top of the crowd at one point. Who said indie rock fans are weak? Abraham killed other time by chewing on beach balls and wearing one on his head. I thought he was pretty fantastic. He also awarded the crowd with a 9.9 Pitchfork rating and declared us better than the Animal Collective record (Merriweather Post Pavillion) which he claimed sounds like Phish. This killed me. I love Animal Collective, and I really like that album, but I also love a contrarian.

Fucked Up ended their hour long set with several members of the band leaping into the crowd. We are talking pretty good leaps, too. Instruments in hand, and everything. Other than "Son the Father," the other song I remember sticking out fairly well was "Twice Born." They were not the highlight of the festival, but despite the shaky sound, they fought through it all pretty well. Fucked Up, my compliments. (I just did a Google search and found that the last sentence has never been printed anywhere before on the Internet. I am pretty proud to be the first.)

Right after Fucked Up, Audrey sent me a text and asked if I had heard about Thax Douglas. Word was spreading that Thax had died. It wasn't true, Thax is alive and well. I think everyone had just mixed Thax up with Walter Cronkite. Honest mistake.

Somehow after Fucked Up, I was unaccounted for until the second half of Lindstrom's great set on the B stage. This is over a three hour window, and I have no idea what I was specifically doing during this time. I may have just been standing in line for the bathroom. For whatever reason, on Saturday, every bathroom line was out of control. It seemed as if the park was much more crowded than previous years, although I read that festival organizers stated that they sold the same amount of tickets as the previous year, and the bigger crowd may have been a result of the unseasonably cool and comfortable temperature. Meaning people were staying longer. That's plausible. And the lines for the bathrooms were rectified by Sunday as organizers scrambled to have more port-a-potties trucked in. And that is what makes this festival fantastic. The port-a-potties. No, but honestly, organizers do as much as they can to make sure everyone has a comfortable experience. It is crowded, but never scary. The lines for food, beer, and bathrooms can be long, but are rarely offensive. And the food is unbelievable. I never thought I would be able to eat so well at a festival. Fruits, vegetables, pizza, whatever you want, they have it.

However, I think the main reason I don't remember seeing much music during this time was because I was catching up with friends that I had not seen in some time. And that might be my favorite part of this weekend. We were all somewhat near the stage where the Pains of Being Pure at Heart were playing, and they are a good band, but I was more interested in talking with my friends. Every year it's a reunion of sorts. They could put the worst possible lineup in front of us and we would probably buy a ticket and head out there. Hmmm, on second thought, perhaps we are morons.

As mentioned, Lindstrom was pretty exciting, but we were mostly lingering near the stage for Matt and Kim who were set to play shortly. I have always really liked Matt and Kim, especially live. They both need ritalin, and they played a lot from their latest album Grand, which is a step up musically and production-wise from their previous effort. But they still managed to squeeze in crowd favorites like "Yea Yeah," "5k," and "Silver Tiles." I originally regretted that I missed Beirut, but, in turn, that would have meant missing Kim trying to dance Beyonce-style, and Matt rocking out not only the beginning to "Sweet Child O' Mine" but also the intro to "The Final Countdown." Clearly, I made the right call.

Saturday was nearly over save for the headliner, the National. I really like the National, they are a very good band, but they are not a headliner. We left halfway through their set, hit an outside patio in Wicker Park, and had some beers. We talked about whatever, and I began to think about the Flaming Lips.

(Sunday rundown coming tomorrow...hopefully.)

--Alex

2009 Pitchfork Festival: Friday

2009-07-21T21:24:00.005-05:00

The last time there was a post on NQL, Michael Jackson was alive and the Cubs’ season seemed to be dead. Well, things have changed, and if morticians can dig up old bones in a graveyard, certainly I’m entitled to exhume NQL. It is especially appropriate since last weekend was the annual Pitchfork Festival. For the most part, I like Pitchfork. They commit some sins, but the festival is not one of them. It is far and away the best music festival I have been to, it is where this site was born, and therefore, it is time for a post.

I hate flying, but my flight to my old Chicago home was surprisingly pretty painless. Any disaster from last year was avoided. I hit Union Park at what I thought was a decent time, but Tortoise was long gone and Yo La Tengo was already playing. Not a huge deal, I have seen Tortoise plenty of times, and since two very long days of music were waiting for me, I could handle not seeing every single note played on Friday. Friday also featured a scenario where ticket holders were allowed to vote for what they wished to be the set list from each band. I am not wild about this scenario. I would rather hear what Yo La Tengo wants to play, and not what the guy standing on my right wants Yo La Tengo to play. But nevertheless, it is an interesting idea, and certainly would not detract much from the weekend. For those unaware, the Friday lineup was Tortoise, Yo La Tengo, the Jesus Lizard, and Built to Spill. It was like watching an old-timers’ game, except interesting and worthwhile.

As mentioned, I showed up during Yo La Tengo, and they happened to be playing “Autumn Sweater” from I Can Hear the Heart Beating as One. Good omen, I like that song. I looked around for my friends (my cellular phone was not working at the moment) before realizing I was in the wrong spot. I needed to go to the Jesus Lizard stage. My old friend Jim from Louisville is the biggest Jesus Lizard fan I know, and as much as we all love Yo La Tengo, it was important to be front and center for what was about to happen on the other stage. Knowing lead singer and resident maniac, David Yow, has to be nearing 50, I was curious if he still had the antics in him that has made him somewhat legendary. (Speaking of which, I think David Yow has looked 50 for the past 20 years. Has he ever looked young?) It was kind of like watching an old athlete come out of retirement, but instead of wondering whether he could still throw a 50-yard spiral, I was curious if he still had the drive to leap off the stage, and crowd surf naked. It is a subtle difference. Convinced the Jesus Lizard’s first set in their hometown in some time could range anywhere from awesome to a complete debacle, I wanted to be close enough to make the call. It was pretty much both.

The noisy rockers came onstage, Yow said a few things into the microphone about some upcoming shows that they are set to play at the Metro in November, the band started into their first song “Puss” from Liar and within seconds Yow flung himself into the crowd. It was great, and there are plenty of Youtube clips that captured the scene if you want to check it out. The twenty foot radius of rabid fans that formed around him was pretty much mayhem. I was being pushed, shoved, elbowed, stomped on, you name it, and I pretty much fine with it. And Yow kept his pants on for the entire show. Let’s call that a win-win. After about five songs, I had had enough and retreated just beyond the pit of grease balls who seemed to be enjoying their opportunity to anonymously try and hurt someone. As I watched the rest of the Jesus Lizard’s set, I noticed Jim near the front of the stage, for whatever reason, holding his shoes up in the air, but refusing to budge from his prime (or terrible, pending on your point of view) spot. As we found out later, during the roughhousing, Jim’s shoes somehow came off. So did his socks. The shoes were found. The socks were not. I cannot think of many other bands who could inspire those last two sentences. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you…the Jesus Lizard.

I had never seen indie rock heroes Built to Spill before this night. Well, shame on me. We somehow managed to get a decent spot near the right of the stage, although we were without Jim, who was still missing in action from the Jesus Lizard’s set. Luckily, a girl in front of us was inexplicably holding a crutch up in the air. I got Jim on the phone and told him to head for the crutch. About five minutes later and still no Jim, the girl put the crutch down. Me, along with several other people, reacted with a simultaneous “Noooo,” as apparently I was not the only one using it as a point of reference. She reluctantly agreed to put the crutch back up in the air. A guy in my group assured her it would only take him about an hour to find us. She sort of found that funny. (He never found us, and the crutch was lowered about ten minutes later.)

Built to Spill was fantastic and it may have been my favorite set of the weekend. They opened with “Liar” from You in Reverse, and kept pretty strong momentum throughout the set. Great beards, too. As mentioned before, since it was a “fans write the set list” night, they hit a lot of what would be expected: “You Were Right,” “Goin’ Against Your Mind,” “Strange,” etc. Very conspicuously absent was “Car.” Really? No “Car?” Are you telling me the masses of people did not vote “Car” as one of the top ten songs that would have liked to have heard Built to Spill play? Someone jumpstart those riots in Iran, we have some more voter fraud on our hands!

(Saturday rundown coming tomorrow...maybe.)

--Alex

8 Random (And Mostly) Musical Observations To Kick Off The Summer

2009-06-10T21:17:00.005-05:00

1. I am currently typing this on my laptop at Union Park in Chicago. I decided to show up a month-and-a-half early for the 2009 Pitchfork Music Festival to squat my area near the stage for Fucked Up’s set. Is there any possible chance that won’t be the best hour of the festival? No, there isn’t. And that’s with a fantastic lineup, too. Good job, Pitchfork. Hey, speaking of which…

2. …this particular article on Pitchfork reporting that Kim Gordon criticized Radiohead’s pay-what-you-want scheme for In Rainbows made me laugh. Well, at least this sniveling line from staff writer Ryan Dombal did:

“Please don't make us choose between Radiohead and Sonic Youth!”

Jesus. By the way, I kind of agree with most of what Gordon says, but look how the same Ryan Dombal handled the story when Robert Smith of the Cure said essentially the same thing about In Rainbows. No, they don’t play favorites. I love it when two of their favored artists get in a spat. I remember when David Berman of the Silver Jews said not nice things about Radiohead, and Pitchfork reacted like a scared nine-year-old boy hiding in his basement listening to his parents fight and just praying that it would all end soon. Good stuff. Also, on an almost completely unrelated note, I don’t know why, but it really bothers me how Pitchfork reviews always have a comma outside of the quotation marks for a song title. For example, look at how they used the comma after the song “Champions” from their recent review of Mos Def’s latest, The Estatic:

“…aside from the aforementioned Oh No and Madlib contributions, "Life in Marvelous Times" recycles Mr. Flash's beat for "Champions", his collaboration with French rappers TTC…”

Come on, how do you screw that up? Pitchfork is the best and most influential independent music site on the web, but at the end of the day, they’re still the Chicago Manual of Style’s bitch.

3. Former NBA journeyman, Paul Shirley, has a great column on ESPN.com where he writes rather generally about rock music. I especially enjoyed this particular column. For whatever reason, I’d rather read about music from a non-music guy like Shirley than from the likes of David Fricke or Ryan Schreiber any day of the week. Good writing, non-music guys are more relatable and readable than 90% of good writing critics who actually have a background in music or music journalism. Just my opinion. Also note that Shirley is 6’10, which means there are a lot of angry people standing behind him at concerts. Hey, speaking of which…

4. …he may have been standing just to my right at the Hold Steady concert this past Sunday night at the 9:30 Club. I was there with my brother and we were standing in the highest part of the balcony and there was a guy on the row below us who was still blocking a bit of my view. And I’m about 6’1 so it’s not as though I am small. It was fine though, he was only shielding me from Tad Kubler, and the show was amazing as expected. I told my friend Val that it may have been the best sounding Hold Steady show I have ever seen. She reminded me that I say that after every Hold Steady show I go to. What she doesn’t know is this time I meant it. When they came out for the encore, they played a cover of Minutemen’s “History Lesson – Part II.” It was a bit sloppy as Craig Finn tried to mix in lyrics that related to him and the Hold Steady, but we all loved it anyway.

5. It looks as though the Smashing Pumpkins have found a 19-year-old drummer to replace Jimmy Chamberlin. (Searching for something to say.)

6. I have almost finished reading Chuck Klosterman’s first novel Downtown Owl. If you’re a fan of Klosterman, you’ll probably enjoy this book, although not as much as his non-fiction material. (For me, it has been well worth the read for this line on page 184 alone: “People said Koombah looked like Rollie Fingers without the handlebar mustache. This meant he didn’t look like anyone.” Every other sentence could have been utter nonsense and I would have felt like I got my money’s worth for that line alone.) If you don’t like Klosterman, don’t bother. If you have never read Klosterman, start with Fargo Rock City and maybe work your way to Downtown Owl.

7. If Phil Spector being acquitted of a murder he obviously committed would have saved me from seeing this picture, I would have been all for it. And if I'm Dobby from the Harry Potter books, I sue.

8. And finally, Jack, we’re sorry for stealing your picture of Bry Webb from the Constantines. Please forgive us. It (probably) won't happen again.

--Alex

Album Review: Art Brut - Art Brut Vs. Satan

2009-05-21T20:49:00.004-05:00

Art Brut

Art Brut Vs. Satan

Rating: Satan wins.

I really, really wanted this album to be good. I absolutely adore Bang Bang Rock & Roll and like many other admirers of that album I was very disappointed by its follow-up, It's a Bit Complicated. I knew that it would be tough to capture the lightening-in-a-bottle spark of BBR&R on a second album, but Complicated came off as more stale and half-hearted than I expected it to be. I also knew that it would be tough for Art Brut to make a return-to-form third album because such a large part of their "form" was novelty, and, by definition, you can only have that once. Art Brut Vs. Satan, recorded in Portland with Black Francis, is an improvement over its immediate predecessor, but drives home that Art Brut is a one (very good) trick band.

One listen to "Alcoholics Unanimous" tells you pretty much all you need to know. It's a fine song and features a hung-over Eddie Argos demanding caffeinated beverages while explaining why he feels like shit. There's a nice little structure, some well-placed backing vocals, and an excellent use of the word "et cetera," but it just seems like the same old same old. What was it that Eddie said of songs about sex, drugs, and rock and roll years ago? Well, three albums in, he ended up being right. "DC Comics and Chocolate Milkshake" is also a nice, even sweet song, but if you replace the titular items with "Emily Kane," you have an almost identical and far inferior version of the BBR&R highlight. The rest of the album continues along those lines: they're all objectively good songs, but they all seem like worse versions of songs we've heard the same band play before.

Although I'm disappointed in the album, I still love the band even if they can only be enjoyed by listening to a five-year-old record and by seeing them live. I think the songs on Art Brut Vs. Satan will take on new life and be best enjoyed in concert because Art Brut is still the most fun live band on the planet, and Eddie's delivery works best when you can see his sublime ridiculousness in person. I'll report back after seeing them in a few weeks.

--Jim Powers

NQL: Where No Posts For Nearly A Month Happens

2009-05-18T20:22:00.004-05:00

We have suffered through a horrible hiatus of no posts. The reason: We’re now exclusively on Twitter where the pressures for long, thought-out posts are much less demanding. And for all of you that have been following the NQL Twitter feed, I hope you enjoyed my recent review of the new Wilco album, Wilco (the Album). But in case you missed it, here it is:

If your dad liked Sky Blue Sky, then your grandpa is going to love this! LOL!!!

So, what are you waiting for? Subscribe! Subscribe! Actually, that’s a joke (the Twitter part, at least). We are not on Twitter. And I wish I had a decent explanation as to why we took a three-and-a-half week vacation, but I really don’t. Part of it may lie in the fact that of the regular contributors, we have three lawyers, one doctor, one editor, and one guy studying to be a Unitarian Minister with a son due in July. We’re busy, but still, we’re not that busy.

In fact, I was more distracted than busy. Often this last month, I would get home from work with every intention of writing about an album I was listening to, but would get swallowed up by sports and the evening would be history. The Bulls’ epic playoff series with the Boston Ninnies may have taken five years from my life, but it was completely worth it--even in defeat. And to reciprocate, it gave me an irrational hatred for the Celtics and Rajon Rondo which I foresee lasting for some time, and I couldn’t be happier about it. (For better or for worse, music doesn’t tug on your emotions like this. Sure, there are some hip-hop feuds, and Wayne Coyne was mad at the Arcade Fire for about five minutes, but that’s about it.) In trying to think of the musical equivalent to Game 6 of the Bulls-Celtics series as it pertains to my life, all I could think of was seeing an unknown-to-me Okkervil River at Subterranean in the summer of 2005 right after taking the bar exam, and not many hours before I was set to head out west on a road trip with one of my childhood friends. Both were comletely unexpected, and both won't be forgotten. That night in 2005 got me back into music, and Game 6 got me back into pro basketball.

Furthermore, baseball began and so did my first venture into mlb.com audio, where you can get every baseball game on the radio streamlined to your computer for $14.99. There are 30 major league baseball teams, and each is scheduled to play 162 games this year. I don’t feel like doing the math, but that’s a lot of games...all for only $5 more than what Wilco (the Album) will cost when it comes out next month on iTunes. (If my fake Twitter post was any indication, I find one of these to be a much better deal than the other.)

And as it stands now, I am engulfed in the Blackhawks’ Western Conference finals series with the Detroit Redwings. I haven’t missed a minute of the Blackhawks last five games even though, with an exception of Patrick Kane, I learned most of their names two weeks ago. Does this make me a bandwagon fan? Probably. But I am not alone, and I genuinely like playoff hockey. Like the intensity, and I love the crowds. Also, am I the only one that has always had a problem with that (otherwise fantastic) song “Nothing Better” by the Postal Service for the following lyric alone?

I can’t accept that it’s over…
I will block the door like a goalie tending the net
In the third quarter of a tied-game rivalry.

Huh? Hockey doesn’t have “quarters.” Even the most casual sports fan knows this. There are three 20-minute periods and that’s it. I love sports too much to have ever been able to get past this. Maybe Ben Gibbard was trying to be ironic, but I have never been one to give him the benefit of the doubt before so why start now. (And I just did a Google search, and I am definitely not the only one that has always had a problem with this lyric.)

Oh, and on top of all these other distractions, some girl won the Preakness.

Anyway, I apologize for the lack of posts. I would like to say that it won’t happen again, but it will. Nevertheless, with good weather upon us, and summer festival season just around the corner, we will try and step up our game. There is a lot of exciting stuff going on in rock music at the moment (Japandroids, for one), and if we can analyze and scrutinize even a fraction of it, I will be happy.

In the meantime, please subscribe to our Twitter feed.

--Alex

Album Review: Camera Obscura - My Maudlin Career

2009-04-23T20:15:00.008-05:00

Camera Obscura

My Maudlin Career

Rating: If after listening to this you still have testicles, you're doing okay.

Now that the myspace.com phenomenon of internet music discovery has been well established, I recall that years ago I fortuitously came upon Camera Obscura in just that manner while perusing the bands listed on the Concrete’s site. But I bought My Maudlin Career at Permanent Records in Chicago on none other than Record Store Day, so a little “In your face!” to the digital music hand that fed me.

I consider Camera Obscura’s Let’s Get Out of this Country as an album that was part of a personal revival in my interest in the rock scene a few years back. It came alongside my discovery of other fantastically wimpy rock bands like Belle & Sebastian and Rilo Kiley. I fell hard for their poppy, sappy sound and their penchant for melodrama. After completely overdosing on it for months, I stashed it away for years and once again have been listening to it recently when I heard that My Maudlin Career was forthcoming. I’ve decided that it has staying power and thus made me excited for their next release.

The album opens with a catchy and arguably their best number, “French Navy.” The next track flows nicely into the dreamy “The Sweetest Thing” that starts with back-up singers woo-woo-wooing and tambourines shaking. It makes you want to don a polyester, flowery 1960’s dress and take your sweetheart for a moonlit walk. Funny how music can whisk you away to a time and place you’ve never been to. A light country rhythm and slide guitar accompanies “Away with Murder” and closes with a melancholy violin. We get a mid-album break with “James,” a meditational, heartbreaker of a song. It definitely has a whiff of Belle & Sebastian. I was a bit disappointed with the closing track, “Honey in the Sun” because I think it was too reminiscent of “Lloyd, I’m Ready to be Heartbroken” from the previously mentioned Let's Get Out of This Country. It did not give My Maudlin Career the epic, sweeping closure that “Razzle Dazzle Rose” gave Let’s Get Out of This Country. This may be a bit nit-picky, but I felt the closer should have been “My Maudlin Career” for it being the title track and its echoy grandeur. Camera Obscura has once again nailed down the art of retro pop and it can be delivered to you in a beautiful watercolor album cover should you choose to go non-digital.

But above all what stands out in My Maudlin Career is Campbell’s vocal styling, the band’s true piece de resistance. Campbell’s steely, paucity of expression belies her church-like voice. It’s fragile and also very soothing. In concert she sings like a reluctant member of a choir, and only shows occasional hints of anguish that indicate she actually is feeling something. It’s quite refreshing given the multitudes of stage acts out there that often detract from musicianship.

After listening to My Maudlin Career ad nauseum, I notice I keep on reaching for the heavy handed bluesy rock of the Black Keys. You do run the risk of getting oversaturated with the girliness of Camera Obscura. So this review is a caveat for all the manly men out there. I have yet to meet a man who offered up that he likes Camera Obscura. So while you might not buy into this music all that much, at least you can woo your next rock babe at your nearest dive with this material.

Shaping today’s rock music landscape you have at one end the cataclysmic, experimental jangle of Animal Collective and the introspective poetry of Elvis Perkins at another. On some vastly different part of the spectrum lies Camera Obscura with their simple formula: one lead singer/songwriter performs structured songs with a tame band. This Scottish band plays nothing up with that classic reserved, across-the-pond attitude. But if you strip away all the existential shit that we often tie to a band’s worth and just listen to this bittersweet orchestral pop, it’s really quite enjoyable.

--Audrey Wen

The Walkmen--Webster Hall, New York City

2009-04-22T20:41:00.004-05:00

Up until last year, the Walkmen were a band that I just kind of liked. I thought their first two albums were pretty good and don't think I ever listened to their third (the one with the horns) or fourth (that Pussy Cats covers album). The only time I sort of saw them live was at the 2006 Pitchfork Festival, where I paid about a quarter of my attention to their set while waiting for (I think) the Futureheads to play on the other stage all the way across the park. The Walkmen have played many shows in New York since I moved here later that year, but I never felt like I had to see them.

That all changed with You & Me, by far my favorite album of last year and one that I consider to be pretty close to a masterpiece. It's rare that I have the chance to see a band play in support of an album I love so much. I think that's because my favorite albums are growers, and I never fully appreciate them until whatever tour supporting them is through. So when I saw that the Walkmen were headlining a one-off show at Webster Hall in NY before their tour with Kings of Leon so soon after the release of You & Me but after the initial tour in support of it, I immediately bought a ticket.

I went to the show straight from work and was wearing a suit, which felt strange. I thought about leaving the jacket part of the suit at work, but realized that I needed to use its many pockets for my chattel, so I was one of those guys at a concert in a suit. When some other dude walked past me also wearing a suit while I was ordering a drink, we exchanged looks like "we both suck, but whatever." Suit solidarity, bitches. Anyway, I downed a few $8 Stellas and found a good standing spot to wear a suit and watch the openers. The first band to play was Brooklyn's the Antlers, a pretty standard three piece if you replace a bassist with a keyboardist. Their first song was an instrumental dirge that immediately put me off because I hate those bands that just go on stage and fight the audience with noise and feedback (see Black Dice). But after that first misstep, they emerged with a short set of very solid songs that the crowd seemed to enjoy. Next up was the critically adored Beach House, who are clearly very good, but also very boring. One of my friends described them as like Grizzly Bear (another very good, very boring band), but with a chick. That's just about right.

The Walkmen came on at around 10:15 and opened with a song I'd never heard before, which means it was either a new or one from album three or four. There was whistling in it. After that first number, lead singer Hamilton Leithauser, dressed in some sort of Member's Only looking jacket, explained to the crowd that it was the first time in a while that the band had played together and that they were going to play some new stuff. After noting that the next song was not one of the new ones, the familiar opening of "The Rat" put everyone on notice that, rust be damned, the Walkmen came to play. A quick word about "The Rat." Holy shit, that song is so good that I can't even think of what to say about it to do it justice. Apologies to "Hey Ya!" and others that I can't think of now, but "The Rat" is the best song of the oughts. If any band ever made a song as good as "The Rat" and did nothing else for their entire career, it would have been a successful career.

The rest of the setlist was really good. They played "Louisiana," "On the Water," "I lost You," and a lot of other tracks from You & Me. The first set closed with "In the New Year," which sounds better live than on record. The band returned for an encore of "Donde Esta La Playa" and an understated and gorgeous "New Country."

The Walkmen have great stage presence and put on a very, very good show. Leithauser is clearly the focus as he cuts an imposing figure on stage and has a perfect leaning-back-and-belting-it-out rock stance. The great thing about the stance is that its not an act - I think he actually needs to lean back to physically get some of those screams out. It's fun to watch - looks like he really tries. I bet he looks the same singing in a studio. The other star is drummer Matt Barrick. I always thought the drumming on the band's studio output was above average, but seeing this guy play live is something else. He is unbelievable. He can deliver driving, rolling beats ("The Rat") but can also be precise and improvisational (basically all of You & Me). I think he's the reason why You & Me reminds me in many ways of a jazz album. The greatest compliment I can bestow on any drummer is to compare them to Can's keystone Jaki Leibezeit. On You & Me, Barrick does just that.

About four or five songs into the show, Leithauser told everyone that he had turned 31 the day before (tax day) before the band broke into a very sweet, very light version of their first hit "We've Been Had". Standing there thinking about how this guy on stage turned thirty the same year I did helped me realize why I love You & Me so much: with that album, the Walkmen absolutely nail turning-thirty-angst. You & Me is filled with regret and hope (almost entirely summed up in "I Lost You" and "In the New Year"), which are precisely the same emotions I felt last October. This concert served to confirm that the Walkmen have made their masterpiece. I think the reason why it's not universally realized as such is because you have to be a little older to fully appreciate it.

--Jim Powers

Photo by Jim Powers

Wilco--The Pabst Theater, Milwaukee, Wisconsin

2009-04-16T20:21:00.004-05:00

Two nights ago (I'm admittedly under-motivated), Wilco kicked off their string of spring and summer tour dates with the first of two shows at the Pabst Theater in my home city of Milwaukee. It was their first show as a band of 2009.

And, despite frontman Jeff Tweedy admitting they had “spent a lot of time not practicing,” in the weeks leading up to the show, I don't believe there could have been a single person in the audience that left without loving Wilco at least a little bit more.

After a burrito and a chilly spring bike ride to the downtown venue, I settled in to my plush seat within a few songs of the start of the opening band, A Hawk and a Hacksaw. If you are unfamiliar (I was), the band is fronted by Neutral Milk Hotel's former drummer Jeremy Barnes, and has previously toured with Beirut and Olivia Tremor Control. From what I can gather, the group's lineup varies, but consistently features Barnes and a female violinist.

On this particular Tuesday night four people took the stage. Barnes stood at the far left, playing his accordion, using some kind of small, extremely narrow kick drum with tambourines attached to the top for percussion, singing for one or two songs, and talking to the crowd when appropriate. On stage in a straight line next to him stood the violinist, a trumpet player, and a baritone player.

Their songs were interesting and arguably unconventional, though they clearly channel styles that are hundreds of years old. I found them to be somewhat reminiscent of the Decemberists and Milwaukee favorite the Scarring Party. Something tells me they were not quite what most of the crowd was expecting.

Nonetheless, I enjoyed their sound, especially when coupled with the classically beautiful atmosphere of the Pabst. Barnes, like most performers I've seen at the Pabst, took a moment to declare his admiration for the theater, but received some negative feedback in the form of boos when he chose to state his opinion regarding the low quality of the beer.

If you've never been to the Pabst Theater, I highly recommend seeing a show there if you ever get the chance. It's a favorite venue of most Milwaukeeans, and the Pabst Theater Group (which operates two other venues) consistently does a good job bringing worthwhile shows to town. The Pabst was rebuilt after a fire in the 1890s, reopening 1895. It is a Wisconsin state historical site and national historical landmark. It was built in the style of a German opera house and features two large balconies above the main floor, gold painted molding, and a two ton crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Not only is the theater gorgeous, but its acoustics are better than most.

Tickets to both nights of the show sold out in a flash. I bought my ticket within minutes of the start of the pre-sale, and still wound up all the way to the left side of the stage in row Q. Presumably, everybody in the audience really wanted to be there. By the performance they gave, I believe Wilco did, too.

When Wilco finally took the stage, they went almost immediately into “Wilco the Song.” It took them a few songs to warm up to the excited, confident, well-woven way they would play most of their set, and this portion of the show felt to me like I was on an awkward first date with Wilco and the entire audience—nervous, not sure quite what to expect, but hoping for something great.

It was already during this first song that I discovered that the man standing next to me apparently believed himself to be Jeff Tweedy. I opted not to drink at Wilco (despite a 16 oz. Pabst costing a mere $3-ha, Alex), and my sobriety proved it difficult for me to ignore this man's awful and mostly inappropriate singing.

That aside, it wasn't long before I realized I was going to get more than I expected. During the second song, “Hummingbird,” Jeff Tweedy treated us to a little running man. After the third song, “At Least That's What You Said,” I began to notice how almost all members of the band were frequently changing instruments. And, during the fourth song, “Muzzle of Bees,” I noticed how their transitions between parts of songs left me wonderfully stricken.

I also noticed that just a few songs in, Wilco was rocking songs like most bands only rock their last of the night.

The band played a trio of songs off Yankee Hotel Foxtrot before Jeff Tweedy finally addressed the audience and delighted us all with his unassuming and amusing conversation. He had the privilege of throwing the first pitch at the Milwaukee Brewers' game the night before, and two of the band members ran in the sausage race that takes place on field during the seventh inning stretch at all Brewers' home games. Later in the night, Tweedy noted that his clothes smelled something like “mostaccioli schnapps” from the night before, and that he “didn't think it was fair that the chorizo had to run with a sombrero on.”

Tweedy also talked a little bit about the band's upcoming album, informing us that it was as yet unnamed, but they were leaning toward Hemispheres. He asked if anyone wanted to appear on the cover of the new album naked, because “none of us will do it”. He was kidding, of course, but he later invited the audience to line up outside the theater before the next day's show for pictures that will appear in the liner for the upcoming album.

After that it was right back to the rocking. Despite being somewhat desensitized to “Jesus, Etc.” because I've listened to it about a thousand times, I had goosebumps throughout it. Crowd favorite, “Handshake Drugs,” and one of my favorites, “A Shot in the Arm,” ended the official set.

But, obviously, we hungry Wilco fans were not letting them off that easily. When the band came back for their first of two encores, Jeff Tweedy was sporting a Brewers hat that incited the Chicagoans (there were many) in the audience to boo. To this, Tweedy pleaded, “Can't we all just get along?”

The first encore was five songs, including, to my delight, “Theologians,” and “Heavy Metal Drummer.” I was impressed by the energy and skill that had gone into each and every song up to this point and the quality encore the band gave.

After a five song encore, I doubted there would be a second. But the audience spoke, and after quite a few minutes of energetic cheering and clapping, the band reappeared for a four-song second encore.

By the end of this encore, the band and audience both seemed to be in a state of satisfied exhaustion. The night ended with a lengthy and crowd-involved performance of “Kingpin,” where Tweedy subbed “Wisconsin” for “Pekin.”

By the end of the show I was in need of a smoke, so I quickly shuffled out the emergency exit that an usher had opened on the side of the theater. I stood on the sidewalk, relatively alone, checking my voicemail and enjoying my cigarette before starting the long bike ride home. It was during this time that I got to see Jeff Tweedy run from another exit of the theater to his tour bus, which was parked right in front of me.

After Tuesday night's show, I really wished I had bought a ticket for Wednesday night.

--Jackelyn C. Wicklund

Neko Case--9:30 Club, Washington, DC

2009-04-12T22:13:00.004-05:00

The 9:30 Club was in high spirits last Thursday. NPR was in the house to cover Neko Case’s second and last soldout show at the venue. And so was NQL. (I don’t know how NPR hits the town, but I took mass transit from Adams Morgan, and let me tell you this, the characters aboard the 92 bus would give even those rascals back in Chicago that ride the red line deep into the night the Willies.) It was a classic contrast of styles. NPR often does live recordings of shows at the 9:30 Club to rebroadcast on their respected All Songs Considered program. NQL often attends live shows and complains about the price of beer.

I arrived just before the opening act and ordered a quick Budweiser which cost an unconscionable $6. I had no idea who was opening but I knew it wasn’t Will Sheff of Okkervil River because I would have remembered that. Imagine my surprise when Will Sheff entered stage right to modest applause. (I believe he was a fill-in for the original opening act, Crooked Fingers, who had to cancel.) Sheff played mostly new material, save for a great version of “Just Give Me Time” from Okkervil River’s Sleep And Wake-Up Songs EP. Everything else, other than Black Sheep Boy’s “A Stone,” came from their last two albums. Only about one-third of the audience seemed enthused, everyone else was chatting it up while waiting for the headliner. Sheff's songs sound better with his band than when performed solo, which says nothing other than the fact that the band that he fronts is amazing. Nevertheless, unexpectedly seeing one of my favorite songwriters perform a quick opening set for Neko Case is a pretty good deal. And I didn’t even have to go to Best Buy to purchase my ticket!

Neko Case took an annoying 45 minutes before hitting the stage with her fantastic band. She immediately apologized for wearing the same shirt from the night before. This is noteworthy because it reminded me of a time when I was debating with a few friends whether Neko Case is attractive. Keep in mind, this is a really stupid thing to even argue because she’s clearly very attractive. But one of my friends stated, “I don’t know, she just looks like the type of person who would have really bad body odor.” At the time, the statement was without merit and completely hilarious. Now, it might just be completely hilarious.

They opened with “Maybe Sparrow” from 2006’s triumphant Fox Confessor Brings the Flood. Great song from an even better album. (Audrey Wen is going to rue the day she decided to bring Furnace Room Lullaby to the deserted island instead of Fox Confessor...) Some slight sounds problems were present at the beginning, but they were gone once we were three or four songs deep.

Not long after the sound improved, some guy yelled “Don’t Fear the Reaper!” I don’t know who the guy was, but he should probably refund a fraction of my ticket cost. For the rest of the show, Case spent a couple of minutes between songs talking about the “Reaper.” Not the song, the actual Reaper. She talked about making out with the Reaper, breaking up with the Reaper, getting back together with the Reaper, doing who-knows-what with the Reaper. If it sounds confusing and stupid, it’s not because you had to be there. It felt that way to me, too. I urge everyone to listen to the concert at NPR’s All Songs Considered just so you can see I am not exaggerating. She name-dropped the Reaper about 75 times. Is there an inside joke about the Reaper that I am not aware of? And if there is, everyone else must have been in on it. Case seems to have the uncanny ability to make everyone in her audience laugh any time she says anything into the microphone.

I probably shouldn’t be complaining. I have seen Case in concert before and know that the on-stage banter comes with the price of the ticket. She’s an engaging personality, but you start to get the idea that it would suck sitting next to her on an airplane. You’re trying to read a book; she’s trying to talk to you (not to mention the body odor).

In between talking about the Reaper, they decided to play some songs. The title track from her latest effort, Middle Cyclone, stood out splendidly. Same with “Margaret Vs. Pauline” from Fox Confessor. But the highlight from where I was standing was “The Tigers Have Spoken,” because it’s a great song, and the video screen behind the band had some interesting shots of a tiger roaming around and just looking cool. It’s rare that I’ll watch a video screen instead of the persons in front of the screen performing the music, but that’s what I did. I believe before the song she mentioned that it was dedicated to the Defenders of Wildlife. But it may have been after the song, I don’t really remember because I was thinking about the Neko Case live album The Tigers Have Spoken, and how before the second track Case states, “This is a Buffy Sainte-Marie song,” in a sort of southern drawl that would make even Loretta Lynn blush. So, during her between song banter, I started trying to figure out if this was some sort of pose, or if she really talks like that. I don’t think she does, but my analysis was interrupted when, for some reason, Case yelled “We’re living on the Edge,” into the microphone, reminiscing the old Aerosmith song. This made me laugh, even though I had no idea what the context was. But I started to think about Aerosmith, mostly Aerosmith’s legacy. I can’t help but wonder how I would feel about them as a band had I been born ten years earlier.

This is how I recommend taking in a Neko Case show. Listen to the songs, but while she’s talking about the Reaper, just let your mind wander. After they played “The Tigers Have Spoken,” I started thinking about Tiger Cubs and whether that was as far as I got, or if I ever attained the title of Cub Scout. This soon took a backseat to regretting the fact that I wasn’t positioned in the balcony or sitting down. I was close to the stage, but was starting to get a sore back and neck that comes from standing in the same place for two hours with your head slightly tilted back. I’m convinced this is why every music reviewer past the age of 40 has awful posture.

Neko Case and Co. wrestled away my attention from Steven Tyler and the Pinewood Derby when they played the Harry Nillson cover “Don’t Forget Me,” which is also from Middle Cyclone. It sounded just as soothing and well orchestrated as it does on the album. Soon after, even though the show wasn’t over, I left because I had work the next day and I am lame. I can’t help but wonder if I would have left early had I been born ten years later.

Probably not. But in the end, it doesn't matter, I had heard enough and was ready to go. And I wasn't the only one. The Reaper was on the 92 bus back home.

--Alex

NQL's Top 50 Deserted Island Albums: The Final List

2009-04-09T21:57:00.005-05:00

This is the finale. After an enduring selection and weeding out process, combined with a very scientific poll (results are to your right, I voted four times), we present NQL's Top 50 Deserted Island Albums. If you have not been following along, and want to know how we arrived here, I urge you to check out Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3. When we first embarked on this journey, we had no idea we would be filling such a huge void left by the now-defunct Blender Magazine when it comes to mindless music lists, but we couldn't be happier to do so. Although the first three parts were divided into each contributor's selections and deletions, we now stand as one. And with that spirit, we present the top 50 deserted island albums:

Abbey Road by The Beatles
Ænima by Tool
Aqualung by Jethro Tull
Astral Weeks by Van Morrison
At Dawn by My Morning Jacket
Beggars Banquet by The Rolling Stones
Black Sheep Boy by Okkervil River
Chairs Missing by Wire
Chutes Too Narrow by The Shins
Closer by Joy Division
Clouds Taste Metallic by The Flaming Lips
Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain by Pavement
Doolittle by Pixies
Double Nickels on the Dime by Minutemen
Electric Ladyland by The Jimi Hendrix Experience
Furnace Room Lullaby by Neko Case and Her Boyfriends
The Futureheads by The Futureheads
Heartbreaker by Ryan Adams
Here Come the Warm Jets by Brian Eno
Highway 61 Revisited by Bob Dylan
I See a Darkness by Bonnie "Prince" Billy
In the Aeroplane Over the Sea by Neutral Milk Hotel
Kid A by Radiohead
Kill the Moonlight by Spoon
Laughing Stock by Talk Talk
London Calling by The Clash
Lonesome Crowded West by Modest Mouse
Louder Than Bombs by The Smiths
The Low End Theory by A Tribe Called Quest
Maggot Brain by Funkadelic
Mclusky Do Dallas by Mclusky
The Midnight Organ Fight by Frightened Rabbit
Off the Wall by Michael Jackson
OK Computer by Radiohead
On Fire by Galaxie 500
Perfect From Now On by Built to Spill
Rabbit Songs by Hem
The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust by David Bowie
Siamese Dream by Smashing Pumpkins
Songs in the Key of Life by Stevie Wonder
Stankonia by Outkast
Stop Making Sense (expanded edition) by Talking Heads
Sung Tongs by Animal Collective
Swordfishtrombones by Tom Waits
Tago Mago by Can
Tidal by Fiona Apple
Tim by The Replacements
Weezer (the blue album) by Weezer
Yankee Hotel Foxtrot by Wilco
You & Me by The Walkmen

The Mountain Goats--Buskirk-Chumley Theater, Bloomington, Indiana

2009-04-07T20:56:00.005-05:00

Monday night I saw The Tallest Man on Earth, John Vanderslice, and the Mountain Goats. It was tight.

We missed most of The Tallest Man on Earth, which sucked (since when do concerts start on time?), but the three songs we caught were great. He voice is strong and clear, but I learned that The Tallest Man on Earth is most certainly not: he's tiny, as high as my shoulder, so 5'5" maybe 5'7" which I guess is "average" but it's relative because I'm huge.

John Vanderslice. I wasn't expecting much out of John Vanderslice because I'm not that familiar with him (although he did play "Trance Manual," from his album Pixel Revolt, which I haven't listened to since roundabout '06, and which is one of two songs of his I possibly would've ever recognized), but he was fantastic. Good songs, funny stories, generous stage persona. A nerd king among nerds, Vanderslizzle accomplished the astonishing: he made me want to listen to more of his music. And I gather that Vizzleslizzle is decently popular--a goodly number of the audience were singing/mouthing along with his songs.

Now the Mountain Goats, my reason for going. Stunning, courageous, engaging, confident, and hilarious are just a small number of ways in which I might encapsulate John Darnielle (pronounced, come to find out, dar-kneel, not darn-yell) and his character. Darnielle's high-nasal voice^ pierces my chest like a saber--one of few that does--because it's completely affectless, just like his songs--which Monday included "Dance Music," "Love Love Love," "Woke Up New," "Autoclave," "No Children" ("a song about hope"), the obscure "Ox Baker Triumphant," the unreleased "Cutter," and a few songs from a forthcoming EP**, along with a slew of others from his vast and unknowable canon. But the songs he played don't matter so much as how he played them: intensely, intently, true, prefaced with long, rambling-yet-germane stories relating to inspiration/provenance which displayed Darnielle's fierce intelligence and keen memory. To try to recap the show with more specificity would be futile and would not do it any justice, so I won't/can't even try, except to say that Darnielle/Mountain Goats now sit near the top of my "people to see in concert at any/every opportunity" list. Just awesome.

^To anyone who views Darneille's voice as an impediment, I say get past it. Instead of letting him be "one more alt hero," turn him into "some kind of new Dylan." This guy deserves much more than a "far-flung cult."
**Darnielle and Vanderslice will release this year a concept EP entitled Moon Colony Bloodbath, about a secret government-sponsored organ-harvesting program . . . on the moon. There is no way this could be bad.

--Brian Herrmann

Sure, I'll Say It: Daydream Nation Sucks.

2009-04-01T19:15:00.007-05:00

In 1988, Sonic Youth released Daydream Nation. Any level-headed fan of rock music is supposed to love this album, but I have no idea why. Most of the songs are about two minutes too long. Four of the songs eclipse the seven-minute mark, and only one of those has a slight ounce of charm (“The Sprawl,” and that charm runs dry around the four-minute mark or whenever Kim Gordon is singing the chorus.) A majority of the songs are completely tuneless (“Silver Rocket”), boring (“Eric’s Trip”), or nearly unlistenable (“Trilogy: z) Eliminator Jr.”). I would do more of a track-by-track analysis, but that means I’d have to listen to Daydream Nation all the way through. Maybe even more than once.

So why is Daydream Nation considered to be immortal? Perhaps it’s as good as advertised, and I am simply wrong. Possible, but ultimately unlikely (and certainly not fun for discussion). Maybe this idea that the media perceives Daydream Nation to be a masterpiece is something I conjured up in my mind. Again, that’s not it. Just ask All Tomorrow’s Parties and Michael Azerrad. Or better yet, read every review ever done by a respectable music outlet that gives it a damn near perfect rating. But there is a theory that I think ultimately works, and here it is.

If your college experience was at all similar to mine, perhaps you once found yourself in a dorm room with a group of people, and someone brought up the idea to turn out the lights and watch 2001: A Space Odyssey. It seemed like a good idea. You all had plenty of beer, there weren’t many girls around (or at least, let’s hope not), and it’s allegedly one of the greatest movies ever made (not to mention directed by Stanley Kubrick). There’s only one problem: the movie is awful. Oh, sure, I guess it was ahead of its time, and probably broke some sort of new ground. Whatever. You start watching the movie, and it’s only a tad longer than two hours, but you could swear it lasts the entire semester. You get about ten minutes into that scene where the astronaut is just floating around and you’re hoping to God he just spontaneously combusts, followed by credits, or that one of your friends has the stones to do what no one else does, which is get up, and turn the movie off. You see, I’m not sure people really like 2001: A Space Odyssey. They just feel like they should like it. Similar to some self-loathing American who claims to enjoy soccer, they’re watching the movie so they can hopefully find themselves at a dinner party in the near future and discuss it intelligently. Well, Daydream Nation is the musical equivalent to 2001: A Space Odyssey. That’s what’s going on here.

Now, in the interest of fairness, allow me to reconcile a couple of things: First, the album doesn’t actually “suck” in the literal sense of the word. It’s actually just “okay.” But it does suck when you compare its merits versus the heaps of praise that has been levied on it from every direction for the last 20 years.

Second, “Teenage Riot” is one of my favorite songs ever, and one of my favorite “Track 1’s” ever. The song is amazing, but so what. We’re talking the entire album here. They kicked off Daydream Nation with a face-melter to serve as a nice piece of subterfuge. Smart idea, but hardly novel.

Third, I was only nine-years-old when this album was released by Enigma in 1988, and Sonic Youth was nowhere near my radar. Ozzie Smith was. Therefore, maybe I just don’t “get it.” I first listened to Sonic Youth early in high school when I got Goo through some horrible Columbia House deal. (I’m sure I still owe Columbia House money, even though they had to be aware deep down they were ripping me off, and ripping off every naïve 14-year-old in America.) If 15 years from now some snot-nosed kid born in the 90’s is shitting on Chutes Too Narrow, I would probably call him a moron and play the, “You weren’t there, man,” card. But, be that as it may, there are plenty of records on my shelf circa 1988 that have aged much better than Daydream Nation. If the reverb-heavy vocals on Galaxie 500’s On Fire is like fine wine, then the incoherent noise that makes up 1/3 of Daydream Nation is Carlo Rossi. Furthermore, there are plenty of people young enough to be the offspring of Thurston Moore and Kim Gordon who strut around and claim Daydream Nation is amazing. Certainly I’m entitled to do the exact opposite.

Fourth, as some may know, the very first post on this site (before I knew how to use commas) had me at the 2007 Pitchfork Music Festival all excited about seeing Sonic Youth playing Daydream Nation in its entirety. So how do I now explain this? Simple. I hadn’t realized how much the album bored me yet. I was still trying to convince myself that I liked it (see paragraph that explains the 2001: A Space Odyssey paradox). That could sound shallow. The idea that I was trying to convince myself to like a record because I had been told I should. But it’s not really like that. I’m usually more trustworthy than skeptical when I hear about a record or a band that is supposed to be essential. Whenever a friend or a trusted media source tells me I will like a record, guess what? I usually do. If things don’t click right away, I’ll keep at it. Usually, I’ll come around. Sometimes I won’t and I’ll bail. I bailed on Daydream Nation not long after that 2007 festival. And if you read what I wrote, I didn’t actually stay and watch the whole set. Half-way through I drifted to the back of the park and just laid down and listened/napped. Does that matter? Maybe. I know I wasn’t thinking about leaving the stage when Slint was playing Spiderland. Fine. But what about when I wrote this: “Laying in the grass in Union Park watching Sonic Youth close out Daydream Nation was an experience that won’t be soon forgotten.” Overkill. Looking back, what I really meant was, “Man, I’m about to embark on a weekend filled with live music. And, some of my friends that I haven’t seen in awhile will be arriving tomorrow. I’m excited.” The actual music was inconsequential to the scene. Replace Sonic Youth and Daydream Nation with Pearl Jam and Binaural and things wouldn’t have been much different.

So does this mean Sonic Youth is a bad band? Of course not. They are a very good band, with a couple of great records (Goo and Dirty come to mind). I just don’t think Daydream Nation is one of them. As to why I am thinking of this now, I don’t know. It’s not like Daydream Nation is celebrating a seminal anniversary anytime soon. I guess it will be old enough to buy a case of Budweiser come October, but that’s about it. (This was originally going to be an “Everyone Has One…,” piece but 1,300 words later, I realized it had to be its own beast.) So, here I guess is my point: Your friends, and even rock critics, usually know what’s best for you. They really do. But not always, and the final arbiter on whether or not a record is great is you. And even more importantly, I’m writing this so the next time you’re at a party, and someone slides in Daydream Nation, be the guy with the stones that casually turns it off. Oh, sure, people will throw you unbelievable looks of disdain, but deep down, they’ll love you for it.

--Alex

Morrissey--Carnegie Hall, New York City

2009-03-29T19:22:00.006-05:00

Tonight I completed my two leg tour of aging solo superstars who used to front great bands at historic venues. The first was David Byrne at Radio City. Tonight was Morrissey at the very fancy Carnegie Hall. Because it was my first time at Carnegie hall, as it was my first time at Radio City weeks ago, I got there early to look around. Turns out there's not all that much to look at, so I found my way to my seat pretty quickly. My seat was great--I was in a box in the first row of the first balcony and felt a little like Newland Archer crossed with the King of England. It was a little strange at first being in a box with eight strangers, but when the music started it was completely normal. The opening band, the unfortunately named Courteeners, were a solid and very predictable British five-piece. The kind of band you know is from Manchester before they tell you they're from Manchester. The audience seemed to dig them--their lead singer has a nice voice and they had some good songs. I didn't like them enough for any follow-up listening, but I could see fans of bands like Coldplay and Travis checking them out.

Morrissey and the Tormentors came on stage shortly after the Courteeners finished up. Morrissey was dressed, hysterically, in a tux, I assume because the venue was so fancy, while the Tormentors looked like the Hives circa 2005 in black shirts with white ties. The band played a little intro and then broke right into "This Charming Man," which was spectacular. As I found that the music at a Morrissey show is kind of secondary to the event, I'm not going to spend much time on the actual tunes. Moz played through most of his new album Years of Refusal, which I love, and, I believe, a lot of songs from his more recent solo albums. I'm not too familiar with his solo catalog beyond Vauxhall (off of which he played nothing) and the new one, so there was a lot of stuff I didn't recognize. At my count, he played four Smiths songs, all of them great: "This Charming Man," "Ask," "Death of a Disco Dancer," and "How Soon is Now." He seemed to be in good spirits throughout the show as he danced with his microphone cord and worked the stage. His band, especially the drummer, did an excellent job.

He did a little interacting with the audience as well. At one point, he held the mic down to the front row and asked people to say something intelligent. One lady told him that she loved him, another asked him what we should do about the economic crisis (he didn't know), and another explained that he once broke his neck at a Morrissey show. Thanks, Professor Buzzkill! Morrissey also shook hands with a bunch of people in the front row of the crowd throughout the night. One in every twenty or so fans refused to let go, prompting security to pry their hands apart. A couple fans tried to rush the stage causing one security guy, whose eyes were peeled like Mike Singletary for the entire two hours, to intervene. Two sweaty shirts were thrown into the crowd causing small scale riots in the first few rows before, I assume, they were torn to shreds Ayatollah death shroud style. Immediately after he threw the first shirt into the crowd, he brought Sebastian, the baby on the cover of Years of Refusal, on stage to say hello. Then he threw Sebastian into the crowd to be torn to shreds as well.* Perhaps the funniest part of my night was when a lady sitting next to me offered me her binoculars to "see up close how sweaty" Morrissey was. She seemed surprised when I declined.

While the setlist was far from perfect for my taste, the show was great. I can't imagine seeing Morrissey perform in a more apt venue. The man's voice still sounds wonderful and deep after all these years and, despite lyrics to the contrary, he seemed happy.

*Or maybe he didn't throw the baby to the crowd. He definitely brought him on stage though.

--Jim Powers

NQL's Top 50 Deserted Island Albums, Part 3: Just When You Think You're Out, We Pull You Back In!

2009-03-26T21:24:00.004-05:00

Ladies and gentlemen, Part 3 of NQL's Top 50 Deserted Island Albums. The first week six of us chose five albums that we would like to bring along to a deserted island. The second week we all chose five more. This week each of us gets to eliminate two albums chosen by our idiot brethren that we want no part of. Each choice had to be defended, which, as you will see, could constitute a one-word response from Mr. Powers, or a rant from Audrey that tells us she probably won't be hanging out with Holly, Charlemagne, and Gideon anytime soon. In the comments section, we will each vote for two outcasts that we wish to remain on the island, but each contributor is forbidden from voting for any of their own albums that were shunned. The two albums that receive the most votes will be allowed to stay, and we'll be left with 50. Those will be posted next week. But alas, the fun starts now.

Alex Crisafulli
Bob Marley - Babylon By Bus (chosen by Scott): Since we're looking at a 5:1 ratio of guys to girls on this island, it would probably be best to refrain from any music that might promote some sort of Rastafarian lifestyle.

Wire - Pink Flag (chosen by Brian): I like Wire, sort of. But two albums from Wire is excessive. In choosing between Pink Flag and Chairs Missing (Jim's pick), the first thing that came to mind was "I am the Fly" from Chairs Missing. I've always liked that song. Therefore, Pink Flag gets the heave-ho. Sorry, Brian.

Brian Herrmann
The Beatles - The White Album (chosen by Scott): If the consensus seems to be one album per band, I'll take Abbey Road's cohesion over The White Album's bombast any day.

Beethoven - Symphonies 3, 5, & 9 (chosen by Scott): There's no room for classical music on my island. Also, I feel like picking on Scott.

Travis Newman
Ween - Chocolate & Cheese (chosen by Scott): I appreciate Ween's ability on this album (or is it their entire schtick? I'm not sure) to successfully mimic many different genres. However, I never want to hear that creepy spinal meningitis song EVER again in my life, let alone have it be one of the approximately 500 or so songs we would have to listen to on our island.

Belle & Sebastian - Tigermilk (chosen by Audrey): I'm sorry, I just don't like Belle & Sebastian. Maybe it's because they always remind me of that shitty cartoon from which they take their name? However, it's more likely because I cannot stand their music.

My tribe has spoken.

Jim Powers
The Walkmen - Bows + Arrows (chosen by Audrey): I love the Walkmen and this is a good album. But if we're only taking 50 albums, two from this band seems a little excessive and I'd rather have You & Me. This doesn't mean that I have a problem with taking two albums from any artist though. Also, I might have to smuggle a copy of "The Rat" to the island somehow if this one gets cut.

Gillian Welch - Time (the Revelator) (chosen by Scott): Eh.

Scott Rudolph
Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out...

The Smiths – Louder Than Bombs (chosen by Travis): I was thinking that one of the good things about being stranded on a desert(ed) island would be not having to ever hear Morrissey's pouty, pretentious little whine ever again.

Okkervil River – Down the River of Golden Dreams (chosen by Audrey): One Okkervil River album will suffice, I think. And if we must pick one to stay, let us choose the one to with fancy strings and the like (Black Sheep Boy).

Audrey Wen
The Hold Steady – Boys and Girls in America (chosen by Alex): Can't stand them. I have given them quite a bit of play time, trying to understand their appeal and I just don't get it. I dislike the way Craig Finn talks/sings, pumps his fists, rolls up his blazer sleeve and dress shirt. I don't like Boys and Girls in America, save "Southtown Girls." I also hate that they use the article "the" in their name. It reminds me of "The Brigham and Women's Hospital," like they are the greatest things on earth. Also, isn't it grammatically incorrect? An article before a command? Maybe I'm slamming the band more than the album, but these guys just don't do it for me, if that's not already abundantly clear. I'd gladly give up any of my ten albums to never hear this band again.

Michael Jackson – Off the Wall (chosen by Audrey): I pick my own album, Michael Jackson's Off the Wall to emphasize my point about the Hold Steady.

Feelin' Half Right: Why Do I Listen to What I Listen to in the Morning?

2009-03-24T22:21:00.010-05:00

I woke up this morning and knew I was in the mood for Ted Leo. I opened my iTunes, found “Me and Mia” from Shake the Sheets, and utilized the Genius button. While making coffee, the second track Genius delivered was “16 Military Wives” by the Decemberists. I wasn’t feeling it. I wanted to hear Ted Leo, so I went back and just started Shake the Sheets from the beginning (which of course meant listening to “Me and Mia” all over again, but that’s okay.)

What I find interesting is that I wasn’t thinking about Ted Leo when I went to sleep the night before. (I guess that would be kind of weird if I was.) But upon waking up, I knew almost instantly what I wanted hear. This happens to me quite often. I never go to bed thinking “I know exactly who I am going to listen to tomorrow morning,” but in the morning, I just know. Now, I don’t know what subconsciously happens over the span of six to seven hours of sleep I usually get, but nevertheless, 90% of the time I wake up ready to rock, and know which specific artist is going to deliver the goods. (The other 10% of the time, I go with “Shuffle.” )

Sometimes it will be a new album that is currently whetting my appetite. Lately that would be Middle Cyclone by Neko Case, which means I’m using the phrase “ready to rock” a bit liberally. I’ve found it can be connected to literature. I’m reading Chuck Klosterman’s Fargo Rock City right now, usually before I fall asleep. I would be a fool to think that my neighbors shouldn’t have blamed Klosterman when they were awakened at 7 a.m. this past Monday to Van Halen’s 1984 emanating from my place at a volume that completely violated any standards of human decency. (I have 1984 on vinyl, and while I am by no means a vinyl snob, it just seems that records always have to be played loud. Also, 1984 is badass. That helps.) Another time I remember having a dream about someone I knew awhile ago, when I awoke I was reminded of a band, and that band was played.

But that’s pretty rare, I usually don’t remember dreams, and if I do, they don’t serve as a catalyst for an early morning soundtrack. The other examples are a bit more valid but also seldom. Usually this phenomenon (is this a phenomenon, or am I being way too analytical about what I feel like listening to while I brush my teeth?) is completely unexplainable, which is why I find it so perplexing.

This could all have something to do with my chemical mood. I am a morning person by nature. That’s when I do my best work, and usually when I’m in my best mood. Someone once asked me why I am so happy in the morning and I explained it like this: When I wake up, I’m always under the impression that there is potential for greatness, but usually around 11 a.m. I realize “Nope, just another day,” and then it’s a slow slim slide into monotony until I go back to sleep. But never mind that, point is, I wake up with a purpose. I’m ready to get the day started, above Neko Case example notwithstanding, this means I usually need something loud and borderline abrasive. In other words, get out of my way Joanna Newsom and make room for Silkworm and the Sex Pistols. The day has begun! (There’s a good chance I have never listened to the Sex Pistols after I’ve had lunch.)

Other rules I seem to adhere to: It has to be music I know, but I can’t know it too well. So this eliminates any record I’d be listening to for the first time, or for the thousandth time. It can’t be too depressing like the Magnetic Fields’ 69 Love Songs, or something overtly happy, like the Magnetic Fields’ 69 Love Songs. The loud stuff mentioned above like Silkworm and the Sex Pistols, along with acts like the Jesus Lizard, are all fine right when I wake up, but when I leave my place and head for the Metro, things seem to shift and I need something a bit more subdued. I’ve found Rogue Wave’s Asleep at Heaven’s Gate to fill this slot nicely. It’s gentle and refreshing, but not morose.

And you see, this is a time where I need to be calculating, but not belligerent. Calm, but not sluggish. I view the morning commute as a battlefield, and everyone else, with the exception of perhaps a random cute girl, is my enemy. (If a random cute girl commits an unpardonable sin of the early morning commute, such as standing on the left side of the Metro escalator, she will be bumped into the “enemy” category. This will be done with ease.) These people are enemies only because they are merely obstacles of my initial goal at hand, which is to get to work. That might sound strange to some people, but I like my job. However, I have been the same way for jobs I have had in the past that I didn’t enjoy. I don't know if never being late for places I don’t even want to be at in the first place is a good quality or not. I'm sure there are very reasonable arguments on both sides, but that’s for another day.

In fact, all of this “commute” nonsense is for another day. The purpose of this post was to try and figure out why out of the approximately 10,000 songs in my iTunes, I usually know precisely what I want to listen to the very instant I wake up. If others experience this, I would love to hear about it. Maybe the ultimate answer to this quandary is in the paragraph above, but I would like to think there is something unknown and metaphoric at play. In all likelihood, there isn’t. But tomorrow when I wake up, there will still be a band that is mysteriously playing in my brain, and probably not a minute will pass before they are playing on my stereo. Yep, just another day.

--Alex

NQL's Top 50 Deserted Island Albums, Part 2: The New Batch

2009-03-18T18:57:00.003-05:00

This is Part 2 of our journey to the Top 50 NQL Deserted Island Albums. The ground rules were laid out in Part 1, but just to recap, six NQL contributors are now laying down ten of their essential albums that they would like to have along if they were stranded on a desert(ed) island. Last week we each presented our first five. This week, the next five. Stay tuned for next week (or perhaps the week after that since Audrey is at SXSW and not checking her NQL Blackberry as she was told) where we each vote two undesirables off the island. That's when things will get messy and fun. But until then, here is our second round of deserted island albums:

Alex Crisafulli
Beggars Banquet – The Rolling Stones
Clouds Taste Metallic – The Flaming Lips
Highway 61 Revisited – Bob Dylan
The Midnight Organ Fight – Frightened Rabbit
Tim – The Replacements

Brian Herrmann
Electric Ladyland – The Jimi Hendrix Experience
The Low End Theory – A Tribe Called Quest
Kill the Moonlight – Spoon
Pink Flag – Wire
Stop Making Sense (expanded edition) – Talking Heads

Travis Newman
Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain – Pavement
Lonesome Crowded West – Modest Mouse
Mclusky Do Dallas – Mclusky
Tago Mago* – Can
You & Me – The Walkmen

Jim Powers
Chairs Missing – Wire
Chutes Too Narrow – The Shins
Closer – Joy Division
Kid A – Radiohead
Sung Tongs – Animal Collective

Scott Rudolph
Babylon By Bus – Bob Marley & the Wailers
Maggot Brain – Funkadelic
Swordfishtrombones – Tom Waits
Symphonies 3, 5, & 9 – Ludwin van Beethoven
Rabbit Songs - Hem

Audrey Wen
Bows + Arrows – The Walkmen
Down the River of Golden Dreams – Okkervil River
Furnace Room Lullaby – Neko Case and Her Boyfriends
Heartbreaker – Ryan Adams
Weezer (the blue album) - Weezer

*This album was chosen when it was collectively decided that Use Your Illusion I & Use Your Illusion II by Guns N' Roses could not count as one album.

Bonnie "Prince" Billy--Buskirk-Chumley Theater, Bloomington, Indiana

2009-03-17T09:35:00.007-05:00

I went and saw me some Bonnie "Prince" Billy last Thursday. It went like this:

Azita, a piano/vox solo artist, a Fiona Apple type except shitty, opened and underwhelmed. Her songs were just OK, employing some decent turns of phrase, but my mind wandered during her set. Only her penultimate song stuck out and I don't remember its name. I got the feeling like she really wanted to belt, just let loose and sing to the back of the room, but she couldn't. Ah, well. Sometimes you eat the bar, and, well, sometimes you have to listen to Azita for 30 minutes. Lady sure could pound a beer, though, and that's alright.

Begushkin, the "eastern influenced" second act led by Something Smith, were quite enjoyable after the borefest that was Azita. And I suppose they were kind of vaguely eastern influenced, if "eastern influenced" means "fingerpicked guitar." Regardless, Begushkin were very good--interesting songs and song structures/arrangements, evocative lyrics, a three-guitar attack: picked, strummed, slide. Also, the drummer was excellent and the slide guitarist had an outstanding beard and looked like Levon Helm. Their stage presence was a bit off-putting, though. It didn't feel as though they were enjoying themselves--particularly frontman Smith. They weren't engaging performers--no chatter, no banter, no thank yous, nothing until Tightshirt Giantscarf Smith said "thankyouverymuch" right before they left. Perplexing.

And then came Bonnie "Prince" Billy to play a set shot through with God and bodily things, harmony and humor. He started with four-odd songs from the forthcoming Beware, which were pretty great, possessing a happy/satisfied vibe. From the sound of things, Beware picks up mood-wise where Lie Down in the Light left off. Then came my favorite part: "the grimly humorous portion of our set," i.e., the established, known songs, which included an astonishing "Strange Form of Life", "Love Comes to Me", a couple cuts from Ease Down the Road (an album I am not familiar with), and a clutch of songs from Lie Down: the title track, "(Keep Eye on) Others Gain" (what a great tune--complex thematically, simple musically), "You Remind Me of Something (The Glory Goes)", "Easy Does It" (to open the encore), "I'll Be Glad" (the dopest), and "For Every Field There's a Mole". My absolute favorite moments of the show came toward the end, when Oldham and violinist/vocalist Cheyenne Mize duetted/genderfucked on what I think was a cover whose refrain was along the lines of "the girl in me/the man in me." What made it great fun was the gender switcheroo (Mize sang the "boy" parts, Oldham the "girl" parts), and the tacit acknowledgment that even the burliest dudes have some frill about them. Plus Oldham and Mize had a nice Gram/Emmylou thing happening.

Some notes about Oldham's backing band. In addition to Mize's adept fiddling and harmonizing, the group is filled with intuitive musicians: Emmett Kelly on guitar (tight), Josh Abrams on upright bass, and, a special treat, Jim White on drums. It was really cool to watch/hear White drum. He is as animated as anyone I've seen behind a kit, and his loose, improvisational style is something special--and worked fantastically with Oldham's later material, particularly that from The Letting Go and Lie Down in the Light. White doesn't seem like a drummer as much as he seems like the impression of a drummer, and his work brought a spectral quality to the set that was oddly anchoring. I just blew your minds.

Then on Friday morning the Bonnie Prince played an in-store at Landlocked, so I dipped out of work with my office mate and partook. The six-or-so songs included "There Is No-one What Will Take Care of You" (interpolating the first verse of "Jack and Diane" just for us Hoosiers), and a smattering of others, and that was it, despite a request that he "do, like, a ten-song medley." In all, the in-store was rad because it was free, impromptu, relaxed, and generous. Among the 50-ish attendees were some old people and a couple strollers. Will Oldham: Kid friendly since 2009.

--Brian Herrmann

Album Review: Neko Case - Middle Cyclone

2009-03-15T18:57:00.004-05:00

Neko Case
Middle Cyclone
Rating: It will go far in the tournament.

The nomadic, ginger-haired songbird moved to a dilapidated Vermont farmhouse to record Middle Cyclone and enlisted the help of some heavy hitters, including fellow Pornographer Carl Newman, M. Ward, and Calexico’s Joey Burns. This is an album that creatively does not venture far from her classic, moody, dark tones, but will haunt you down to your inner core nonetheless. Additional unique contributors to the album included Vermont crickets in “Marais La Nuit” and six lovely, old, unwanted pianos salvaged from Craigslist, rehabbed and brought back to life in the Harry Nilsson cover, “Don’t Forget Me.”

She throws it all on the table in the opening track, “This Tornado Loves You.” With lyrics like “Carved your name across three counties/Smashed every transformer with every trailer/So I pick them up and crash them down/Cuz I miss how you'd sigh yourself to sleep,” you know she’s ready to let it wail, she’s not going to apologize or take it back. She writes with such intense imagery - of swirling cyclones bearing tender love, of vultures lulling you to a safe but dark sleep. It’s simultaneously unsettling and charming. It’s that dangerous seduction of loneliness, an apocalyptic collision between beauty and absolute bone-crushing destruction.

The poppy “People Got a Lotta Nerve” scrapes what’s left of us off the floor as she embraces the inner man-eater by delighting in an unsuspecting man. In the liner notes for this song there is a cartoon of a killer whale sucking down a can of beer in hunting gear. This is the most lighthearted track of the album, albeit one large cannibalistic metaphor.

The title track gets a nice snug spot in the middle of the album. “Middle Cyclone” is a stripped-down, tender, confessional of a proud lover being undone composed of a simple trio of voice, music box, and a guitar. It is followed by the wobbly, atonal “Fever” which makes novel use of a Hawaiian guitar and then my personal runaway hit of the album, “Magpie to the Morning.” It’s a dark lullaby, a cautionary tale told by a magpie of a deceptive vulture and mockingbird. In this song, the vulture scoffs at your noble cause: “Run an airtight mission, a Cousteau expedition / To find a diamond at the bottom of the drain.” I heard bits of this track months ago in a story about the album before it was released and its tantalizing opening measures whetted my appetite for this album like a bell rung for Pavlov’s dog. I would have bought the album for this song alone without hesitation.

The final tracks of the album allude to submission and resolve. In “Pharoahs” she aches for something that never happened which ultimately results in concession with “I want the pharaohs, but there’s only men” (I hear you, sister). But rather than concluding in some clarity or forging a new direction, she finishes in a lateral move. She resolves in “Red Tide” to keep on truckin’ as if to declare that she has traversed every emotion, laid them out from track one to thirteen and now she’s packing it all up and moving on. While maybe not exactly redeeming, it reflects the overriding tone of the album. It’s not heroic. Instead it’s bitter and rough. But there’s a palpable beauty in that, and when it’s all over, she takes stock in what remains and is not ashamed of her scars.

At first Middle Cyclone didn’t grab me and get that “holyf*ckingsh*t this is awesome” response that I got with Furnace Room Lullaby and Fox Confessor Brings the Flood. At best it seemed like a middle of the pack record. But as I give it more play time, I realize that this is vintage Neko Case, circa a time that we all recognize, when we foolishly sabotaged our own opportunities or when we were too proud. She just makes our vices sound so cool because she likens them to tornadoes and sings in a voice with the most haunting richness I’ve ever heard in my lifetime. Miss Case has brought down yet another fine kill, and it deserves to be given a whirl in an audio player in a living room near you.

--Audrey Wen

Interview: Edward Nolan Reyes of The Little Ones

2009-03-12T20:09:00.006-05:00

As we reported a week or two back, California band The Little Ones is currently on tour supporting their splendid album Morning Tide. Even after one our contributors was an unwelcomed intruder in their green room at Park West, lead singer and guitarist Edward Nolan Reyes was still nice enough to answer a few questions via email about Morning Tide, and what might be next for the band.

NQL: How much of Morning Tide was written when you realized you were being dropped by Astralwerks? And how worried were you about the state of the band, and music business, in general?

Edward Nolan Reyes: Morning Tide was already completed and already had a release date on Astralwerks. So it was a bit of a shock to find out that we were being released from the label. It was unfortunate since we really enjoyed working with all the people at Astralwerks. I think we were all a bit concerned about what was going to happen next. As everyone knows, the music industry is in a state of flux and you just don't know what's going to happen next. Luckily, Chop Shop Records came along and were very excited to release Morning Tide.

NQL: Morning Tide to my ears is a pretty great summer record. Especially the title track. Summer is festival season. Therefore, it makes sense to me that you guys should be playing a few festivals this coming summer. Shall this be the case?

ENR: Unfortunately, we have no summer festival appearances this year. We did a bunch last year here in the U.S. and in Europe. It would be nice to perform in the summer. It's our favorite time of year.

NQL: The Little Ones went from touring with the Walkmen to playing shows with Brett Dennen. That’s a bit of a musical shift. What was the main difference between the two tours?

ENR: I think the obvious difference is the type of music. The Walkmen are the ultimate indie rock band and a bit esoteric. Brett Dennen is probably a bit more accessible for the normal concert going audience. I think you have to prove yourself a bit more when you are playing in front of the Walkmen's audience. Brett Dennen's audience's welcome you right off the bat. Both were great experiences and both band's were great.

NQL: At your somewhat recent Chicago show, a contributor for NQL snuck into the green room and pretended to belong and chatted you up a bit. After telling you guys that he enjoyed your set, he said he felt genuine appreciation for the comment. Is that a product of still being somewhat blown away by the fact that you’re touring the country in a rock band, and making albums? Is the level of success you’re currently experiencing something that was envisioned when the band formed a few years back? (He also wanted to know if Red Stripe was the requested beer or if that was just standard green room beer.)

ENR: So he wasn't supposed to be there? Where's security when you need them? Just kidding. Every show and every opportunity is a blessing for us as a band. Most bands don't even get a chance to play outside their city so when you get a chance you must cherish every moment. Everything that has happened to us so far is way beyond what we envisioned. We are just grateful to be in the position we are in. Red Stripe is not normally on the rider so it was a pleasant surprise that night in Chicago.

NQL: Have you seen this cat? Thoughts?

ENR: That is the most creepiest thing I have ever seen. Is that for real? Did someone do something to that cat? That's just not right.

NQL: The standard comparisons for the Little Ones seem to be the Kinks and the Shins. Nothing wrong with that. But who are your actual influences? And are there any particular bands you’d like to tour with?

ENR: The Kinks are definite influence on us. We are deeply influenced by the music of the Motown era, Tropicalia music, and music from The Band. I think the common thread is that we are fans of pop music as an art form. If you look at these genres or band you'll notice that a great deal of attention was spent on song structure, melody, and rhythm. This is what excites us when we listen to the bands that influence us. We'd love to tour with the Flaming Lips. I think that would be the ultimate tour for us.

NQL: Another standard comment about the Little Ones is that your music is overtly happy, especially Morning Tide. Is this all just a ruse before you guys pen the greatest and most depressing break-up record since Blood on the Tracks?

ENR: Who knows? We didn't consciously set out to write a overtly happy record. It might just be in our blood since we are all from Southern California. We don't really know what the next record will sound like. I guess it will be whatever we are feeling at the time. As long as it is very honest and real.

NQL: Speaking of that, the last track “Farm Song” slows Morning Tide down just a bit. Was this strategic planning, kind of a nice rest after the party that just unfolded?

ENR: We wanted to end the record with something a bit more slow and subdued. That's why we opted for that version of Farm Song. The original version is more upbeat and used our traditional band set-up.

NQL: Any big plans for the band in 2009?

ENR: I think our main goal is to start writing and recording a new record. I think we'll be off the road for a while so we'll just hunker down in our rehearsal space and see what happens. We want to make something special and hopefully we can accomplish that.

--Alex

NQL's Top 50 Deserted Island Albums, Part 1

2009-03-10T21:16:00.013-05:00

If you ever listen to Sound Opinions on Chicago Public Radio, you know that at the end of each episode either Greg Kot or Jim DeRogatis pick one song to be added to the "desert island jukebox." (When we were discussing this post, Jim Powers actually came up with a strong point in that the correct term should probably be "deserted" and not "desert," but whatever.) Basically, one of them picks a song that every music fan would not, or should not, want to live without.

Well, NQL is going to spend the next few weeks doing something of similar vein. Only we're going to focus on albums. Here's how it's going to work:

For this week, six of our contributors each picked five albums they would want to bring to the island. We posted the albums in a thread on Gmail on a first come, first served basis. Therefore, if one person had already picked an album, it could not be chosen by anyone else.
Next week, we're all going to once again choose five albums. That will bring the number to 60 albums.
The third week, each contributor is going to vote two albums selected by others off the island. They will have to add a brief sentence or two to show cause as to why they could not handle the idea of being on the same island as such-and-such album. At this point, personal insults involving the album, the band that is responsible for said album, and the contributor who thought to bring along the album will not only be tolerated but strongly encouraged. After this is done and friendships are destroyed, the albums will have been whittled down to 48. Now, in the comment section of this particular post, each contributor will select two albums that were banished that they wish to remain on the island. Contributors will not be able to vote for any of their own albums that were told to piss off. The top two vote-getting banished albums will be allowed to stay. That will bring the number of albums to a nice, even 50.
The fourth week we will post the official NQL Top 50 Deserted Island Albums.

So as you see, we're basically ripping off Sound Opinions, only with a little bit of Lost, Lord of the Flies, and a few episodes of the old television show Benson mixed in as well. We have no idea why we were sent to this island, nor why we all had the foresight to pack our favorite albums. Nevertheless, we're hoping at least one of them will help fight off scurvy. And now that the rules have been explained, here is our first round of deserted island albums:

Alex Crisafulli
Astral Weeks by Van Morrison
Black Sheep Boy by Okkervil River
Boys and Girls in America by The Hold Steady
On Fire by Galaxie 500
Siamese Dream by Smashing Pumpkins

Brian Herrmann
Double Nickels on the Dime by Minutemen
I See a Darkness by Bonnie "Prince" Billy
In the Aeroplane Over the Sea by Neutral Milk Hotel
Laughing Stock by Talk Talk
Stankonia by Outkast

Travis Newman
Ænima by Tool
Here Come the Warm Jets by Brian Eno
London Calling by The Clash
Louder Than Bombs by The Smiths
The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust by David Bowie

Jim Powers
Abbey Road by The Beatles
Aqualung by Jethro Tull
The Futureheads by The Futureheads
OK Computer by Radiohead
Perfect From Now On by Built to Spill

Scott Rudolph
Chocolate and Cheese by Ween
Doolittle by Pixies
Songs in the Key of Life by Stevie Wonder
Time (The Revelator) by Gillian Welch
The White Album by The Beatles

Audrey Wen
At Dawn by My Morning Jacket
Off the Wall by Michael Jackson
Tidal by Fiona Apple
Tigermilk by Belle & Sebastian
Yankee Hotel Foxtrot by Wilco

David Byrne--Radio City Music Hall, New York City

2009-03-08T09:23:00.007-05:00

Last week marked two firsts for me. It was my first time seeing a show at Radio City Music Hall, and my first time seeing an older artist play solo without his once-great band (I will see my second such show, Morrissey, in a few weeks). I got there right when the doors opened so I could explore the place a little bit and enjoy a nine-dollar Heineken. The historic art deco building is just what I expected - it probably used to be very grand and beautiful, but is now only kind of grand and beautiful due to years of use, but still with loads of character. About three dollars worth of my nine-dollar Heineken was frozen.

I made way to my seat, which was pretty far stage right but almost front row, about 10 minutes before the show was supposed to start. The crowd seemed to be a mix of people in their mid to late 40s and people like me, which makes sense due to the Talking Heads' '80s popularity and '00s resurgence. It was a little strange being at an assigned-seat concert alone. I generally prefer going to concerts solo, but at a GA venue, you can kind of walk around and be a little more inconspicuously by yourself. At an assigned-seat show, it’s pretty obvious to those around you that you’ve gone stag. I wasn't sure how to act: whether to stand up, whether it was kosher to walk around, etc. I figured I'd take cues from the rest of the room.

David Byrne appeared on stage sans opener at about 8:30 in a white suit matching his shock of hair. The smaller-than-I-thought-it-would-be backing band (two percussionists, three singers, bassist, keyboardist, three interpretive dancers - not kidding) was similarly dressed. With the exception of a few songs when the dancers broke out some distracting props, the stage arrangement was simple and effective: people, instruments, and a riser for some of the band, forcing the focus sharply on the performers and the music. Byrne gave a little opening speech saying that he was going to perform mostly songs that he made with Brian Eno, that he hoped no one was disappointed by this, and that people could take pictures if they wanted. Then he began the set with "Strange Overtones."

While the first four songs were solid, the show didn't turn spectacular until Byrne played "Houses in Motion" from Remain in Light (produced by Eno). At the end of that song, the crowd offered up about a full minute standing ovation that seemed to humble and surprise Byrne. I'm not sure if that ovation affected the set list at all, but after "Houses in Motion," Byrne switched from playing mostly Eno/Byrne songs to about a 50/50 split between Eno/Byrne and Talking Heads songs. The highlight of the night was "Born Under Punches," my favorite Heads song and the one I most hoped he would play. "Burning Down the House" was also, of course, awesome and featured Byrne and the band in tutus surrounded by about 20 ballerinas who broke out the Rockettes' kick-dance in honor of the venue.

It was an amazing show. Byrne still has that great voice and seemed to really enjoy himself. My only complaint is that the sound mix was a little off - it was too quiet and you could hardly hear Byrne's guitar. But that complaint is minor relative to the quality of the rest of the concert. I went in hoping to enjoy the Eno/Byrne songs that I was not familiar with and to be treated with a couple Talking Heads hits. I ended up enjoying the Eno/Byrne songs very much and got 5/9 of Remain in Light and "Burning Down the House." I could have used "Psycho Killer," but that would have been asking too much. After the show, almost everyone had a smile on their face as they left the building, myself included.

--Jim Powers

Photos by Jim Powers

Neko Case to Fans, Indie Stores: F*** You

2009-03-05T17:49:00.005-06:00

Do NOT buy the new Neko Case record. At least, don't buy it at Best Buy. I was at one of the few independent record stores in DC looking to buy Ms. Case's latest, Middle Cyclone. They didn't have it. The reason? Her label, ANTI-, struck up a deal with the IKEA of consumer electronics to buy and distribute the album in mass volume. Best Buy is now selling the album for $7.99. This sale will be going on for two weeks. This would be fine if it wasn't for one thing. In those two weeks you probably won't see Middle Cyclone at most decent record stores because right now ANTI- is offering to sell it to independent record stores for $11.99. Therefore, if they wanted to compete with Best Buy, they'd only have to lose $4 a pop. Not bad, huh? Some people are going to laugh this off as not a big deal, something that happens all the time. Well, let me just say, it's usually not this extreme ($7.99?!), it doesn't happen all the time, and it's a growing trend amongst labels and artists that want the "cred" of being under the "indie" umbrella, but don't want to act the part. Given their past, I was surprised Pitchfork and some of the other outlets haven't reported on this, but then I remembered they tend to protect the artists they like. So shame on you, ANTI-. And shame on you, Neko Case. Rest assured, we'll have more on this soon. But I wanted to get an emergency red-faced rant in first. Now that I have, let me leave you with this quote from the queen pornographer herself:

"I hope I can comfort people a bit—maybe show people that making music is fun and accessible to them as well. I'm not out to become Faith Hill, I never want to play an arena, and I never want to be on the MTV Video Music Awards, much less make a video with me in it. I would like to reach a larger audience and see the state of music change in favor of musicians and music fans in my lifetime. I care very much about that."

Uh-huh.

--Alex

Album Review: Studio 1 - Studio 1

2009-03-03T20:47:00.005-06:00

Studio 1
Studio 1
Rating: An ameliorative for slackers.

My life is out of order. Working too much, drinking too much, keeping odd hours, not sleeping or exercising enough, not eating right, beard down to my chest. In short, I have lost focus. One of my goals this year is to get my shit together and halt The Great Thickening of 2008. And I have found a soundtrack in Studio 1, a collection of 12" records by Studio 1, aka techno luminary Wolfgang Voigt, co-founder of Cologne's venerable Kompakt label.

The collection, out of print since the late 90s/early 00s, exudes formalism, rigidity, and discipline through repetition and 4/4 beats, making it ideal for early mornings on the stepmill or evenings in front of the computer. Which is not to say Studio 1 is boring. Quite the opposite: It's hooky and engaging (even tense), it pushes the bounds of minimalism, and subtle shifts layer upon one another so that over time, creases unfold and variance reveals itself.

One of Voigt's preferred modes of expression on Studio 1 is addition by subtraction. On "Red"**, for instance, a little synth bloop (that's the best I got) that at first scans as nothing more than a time-keeping mechanism eventually is subsumed by the rest of the song. You forget it's even there until it's removed entirely, leaving only bass, snare, and hi-hat. When Voigt reintroduces the bloop (you come up with something better) about a minute later, the effect is stunning, focusing your attention like a laser during the last third of the song. "Blue" employs similar methods, but from the opposite direction: drum fills and basslines you hadn't noticed before appear from the ether (check the drum break around 5:00), and effects pop up and repeat in one stereo channel or the other. Elsewhere, the deep bass, the shifts in pitch, and the clicks/glitches of "Rose" congeal into a razor-sharp whole; and the positive bounce of "Silver", with its various permutations of the hi-hat, is the liveliest cut on the album.

The overall effect of Studio 1 is to keep the listener in suspense, waiting for a big payoff that never really happens. Don't confuse "lack of a payoff" with "unrewarding," though. This album's rewards are plentiful given time and patience, or even passivity. In many ways the album can be perceived as ambient in that it "accommodate[s] many levels of listening attention" and is "as ignorable as it is interesting." Your attention ebbs and flows, but never dissipates. Insistent without being demanding, Studio 1 is the rare techno album that's suitable to any imaginable context. Except maybe sleeping.

**Note about due diligence: I'm using the song titles (e.g., "Red", "Yellow") as they appear in my iTunes. However, research indicates some discrepancy with respect to the track listing. The original Studio 1 12" releases were untitled and differentiated by colored vinyl. Kompakt lists six tracks comprising the original Studio 1 pressings and this reissue. The album in my possession, though, includes ten tracks, four of which were previously unreleased. Resident Advisor clarifies things . . . kind of. My decision to use the "colored" song titles, while perhaps not entirely accurate, reflects my experience with this music.

--Brian Herrmann

Brett Dennen, The Little Ones--Park West, Chicago, Illinois

2009-03-01T19:12:00.009-06:00

The Magic Ticket Fairy sent me some tickets for the Brett Dennen show with The Little Ones at Park West. (Thank you, Ticket Fairy.) First, I must say that Park West is an unbelievable venue. Classy, casual, intimate, good viewing, hardwood floors. If you get there early, you could score a good seat in Vegas style booths set up all around the room. If you get there late, you can stand in the front. It seemed like the type of place VH-1 might tape some sort of Rod Stewart – The Stories of the Music, the Hair, Sexual Escapades, and an Absurdly Unlikely Success special. Like the kind of place that you could put a bunch of candles on the table and have An Evening of Music with Seal with Chuck Mangione.

We (my wife and I) went down and sat on the floor in the front and soon The Little Ones came out and started their set. Everyone on the floor remained seated, because it was not that crowded yet, and I think people liked the summer camp feel of sitting on the floor in front of the stage. After two songs, lead singer Edward Nolan Reyes asked the crowd if we would be so kind as to stand up. It was posed as a favor to him, but I think he knew that this was good advice for us as well as it would better suit the consumption of the music. He was correct. After the request, the crowd immediately went from watching a band to having fun with a band.

Before getting tickets to the show, I had heard of but not yet heard The Little Ones. After listening to their first full length album, Morning Tide, on Heavenly Recordings, I was quite excited to hear the band live. The CD is tightly crafted, with a loose, washed, well produced guitar pop that makes you want to be driving down the road with a blinding sun shining in the distance, a blue sky, reflecting on the goodness of that particular moment. After seeing them live, it is refreshing to see that the happy-vibe which is the backbone of the album is legitimate. It is not a sonic shirt that they put on to look good for a crowd or because it is the sound they seek to put on an album. These guys are smiling, having a good time playing, and I got the sense that the blissful mood they produce is organically created from their experience.

During Brett Dennen’s set, I was coming back from a trip to the men’s room and realized that the door to the greenroom was just off the hallway. I decided to test the age old theory of “If you look like you know what you are doing, people will not question you.” Amazingly, it worked. I walked in the door and directly towards a chair at the table as if it was already mine. The Little Ones were enjoying some beers and the company of friends. While finishing my beer, compliments of being in the greenroom, I mentioned to frontman Edward Reyes that I really enjoyed their set, not really intending to start a conversation, but simply wanting to share this small but genuine sentiment. He was excited to hear so, and we chatted a bit about the tour. Before this tour, they played with The Walkmen, so this has provided a different context for their music, one a little less ready to rock (that’s right, I said “ready to rock”) from the outset. I think you can tell a lot about where a band is and what they are doing by the way in which they respond to the comment, “I really enjoyed your set.” Here it was a conversation starter, because the band is still really connected to the music, the experience, and the opportunity to play live. This came through in their music and performance of it.

I look forward to their next album as the current one is the kind that gets pleasantly lodged in the brain. You find yourself singing one hook here, then another hook there. Then you realize that they are from the same song. Theirs is generous, well done pop that doesn’t rely on one moment in a song to make it special. Definitely the type of music that gets better around the third listen as the textures of production and music come alive after the pleasantness of the vocals reluctantly steps aside to reveal the other things happening. I have no doubts that these guys will continue to enjoy playing every night of the tour and that if the crowd is willing to stand up, they will enjoy it with them.

Brett Dennen is touring in support of his new album Hope for the Hopeless with Dualtone Music Group. It has a much fuller sound and is a departure from the more spacious tracks of his first two albums that relied purely on Dennen’s song craft. But this is they way of the progression of the singer songwriter. Sooner or later, they are gonna get a backing band and gonna get a bigger sound. Dare I say that after many listens, the tail end of the record tapers off into what I can only describe as boring rather than compelling. But it is a high quality boring. And perhaps only is so in comparison to its own highly set bar. But he still has his emotive intimacy that gushes from his tender tenored chords and slyly original writing.

Alongside The Little Ones, Dennen also knows how to have fun on stage and get the crowd going, but his strategy is a little more conventional. Where the Little Ones used their own enthusiasm for the moment and we were excited vicariously, Dennen worked the crowd with cute little dances that make the girls fall in love, synchronized arm waves, and sing-alongs that make the people feel a part of the moment. None of it felt campy. Dennen succeeded in bringing the joyous feeling of his music into the concert experience.

While I was back stage with The Little Ones, apparently Dennen went to great length to reprimand my inattentivness while I took leave of his show for a moment. During my absence, he played the song “The One Who Loves You the Most,” and then asked the crowd if they had ever been in love and asked “who loves you the most?” Dennen and the crowd had a big, fat lovefest and celebration of love. My wife, instead of sharing this nice moment with me, shared it with a room full of strangers. I will get you, Brett Dennen. I can only assume you took my absence as a personal affront to your set. You are a clever and vengeful man.

When I came back though, the crowd was electric. He had moved into a new, loud, light, and happy part of the evening. He is hard not to like. He is honest, his songs have swing, catchiness, and cleverness. Authenticity, relevance, and timelessness. He is obviously doing what he loves and inviting us into it to. He is the kind of guy you root for. I had this feeling when I first heard him on World Café back in 2004. He will be around for awhile and I am anxious to see where his music takes him. His music has stepped more into the sounds of world music and it has served him well, be it teaming up with Femi Kuti, or co-writing a song with The Wailers. While I still enjoy the stripped down Dennen better, he is growing as an artist and pushing into new directions and provided us a great night of music that showcased both his sounds.

--Scott Rudolph

Photos, even the ultra-hip blurry one, by Scott Rudolph

Under-Appreciated Albums, Part 4: The '90s (Part 2)

2009-02-26T21:17:00.004-06:00

My disclaimer from part one a few weeks ago still applies to this part two of my '90s under-appreciated albums. Here it is again in case you forgot:

The Cardigans - Gran Turismo (1999)

The Cardigans first made waves in the US with 1996's "Lovefool." For awhile, "Lovefool" was inescapable (and not in a good way). Looking back now, it's a great little pop song, but back then, without knowing that the Cardigans are, in fact, awesome by any measure, it seemed like a one hit wonder by some band with a good gimmick (gimmick: a smoking hot lead singer). I remember thinking a few years later when I first heard "My Favourite Game" that it must be by some other, awesome, Cardigans and not the ones who had made "Lovefool." But whose lead singer sounded exactly the same as the one from the other, shitty, Cardigans? (I'm realizing now that they named the band after a type of sweater - that's kind of awesome). "My Favourite Game" eventually lodged itself in my head enough that I had to go buy the CD. A little Internetting unnecessarily confirmed that the two bands were indeed the same Cardigans, and that they still had the same good gimmick.

Gran Turismo is just great. I hate claiming to know what influenced certain bands at certain times, but it really seems like the Cardigans took some cues from Bjork, Portishead, and trip-hop and added a little sugar. I like to call Gran Turismo the first and only Tripbjorugarpophead album. It's generally very low key with parts almost ambient. Every now and then, there is some more rocking guitar (like the awesome end of "Hanging Around" and most of "My Favourite Game"). Besides the fact that it just sounds good, Gran Turismo is also an album that makes you go back and reconsider the Cardigans' past output. I love those kinds of albums that make you think, hmm, maybe what I thought was kind of bad was actually kind of good and I'm the jackass. I think this was the first album that affected me in that specific way. I honestly don't know how objectively good this album is, but it's one that I love and continually return to.

Massive Attack - Mezzanine (1998)

This one was at the top of plenty of year end lists and probably some decade end lists too, but people seem to be forgetting it as it fades into the past. I'm not going to write much about how great this album is because there's one perfect way to experience it: in the dark at 3 in the morning while you're a little drunk. It's the perfect combination of really, really good, completely fucking terrifying, and strangely beautiful. Everything about it is scary - the blown up picture of some insect on the cover that looks like something that exists in nature crossed with the Shrike, the decent into hell opener ("Angel"), the brooding bass, the whisper-rapping, and even the name Mezzanine implying some sort of nowhere. I think it's slowly being forgotten because it's the high point of a dead genre: trip-hop (sorry Maxinquaye), a genre that lived fast and died hard shortly after Mezzanine's release. I doesn't help that Massive Attack's recent albums have been sup-par, probably because Mushroom left the band in '99. If, somehow, you didn't love this album when it came out or dismissed it because you thought trip-hop was stupid, I implore you to put back about seven Busch Lights starting at about 11:30 tonight, turn off the lights, and listen. You might be different tomorrow.

Fiona Apple - When the Pawn... (1999)

Fiona Apple can be really hard to like: there's this 90-word title that has to be brought up every time someone mentions this album, her crazy "speeches" at various award shows, she dated David Blaine, and, actually that's it. Those are the only three reasons not to like her. Unfortunately, for a lot of people, those three reasons are enough to pass judgment not only on her as a person, but her excellent work. (Actually, come to think of it, dating David Blaine is a completely valid reason to hate anyone). While Tidal has the hits and Extraordinary Machine has the story, When the Pawn has everything. Apple's voice and words are as good as always, but the extra bonus here is that she is perfectly in sync with uber-producer Jon Brion. His varied and unexpected sounds match up perfectly with what Apple brings to the table - just listen to "Fast As You Can." It's a strange song for someone to release as the first single on a follow up to a Top 40 hit-laden album, but it works unquestionably. Brion and Apple take risks, but they come off so well that they don't seem like risks in retrospect.

I love each song on the album, but I think my favorite track is the closer "I Know." When I went to see her live in support of When the Pawn, she played "I Know" at the end of the set. The whole show was good, but there were no stage effects or anything, which makes sense. She probably wouldn't look right surrounded by fireworks and lasers. But for "I Know," she broke out the only lighting effect of the show: some strings of Christmas lights on her piano. They only lasted for that one song. The effect was stunning.

R.E.M. - Up (1998)

You might think I'm a huge R.E.M. fan because this is my second R.E.M. album on these lists. I am not. I like them fine, but they're not one of my favorites. Up, however, is one of my favorites. Bill Berry had left the band shortly before Up was recorded and his absence in the studio translates into a presence. In trying to replace Berry with drum machines, a session drummer here and there, and sometimes nothing, R.E.M. created a sound for an album that is distinctly different from anything they had created before or have created since. Having Nigel Godrich around also didn't hurt. I think I can understand why people might not have heard this album: it doesn't have a big hit (although "Walk Unafraid" and "Daysleeper" are obvious high points), and it came at a point in R.E.M.'s career when they were taken for granted by pretty much everyone. I also think I can understand why some R.E.M. fans don't consider it to be one of the band's best: because it's just so different. It's almost an R.E.M. album for non-R.E.M. fans. If you haven't heard it in a while, you might want to check it out. To me, it just gets better with time.

--Jim Powers

No. 5. Everyone Has One...Inappropriate Karaoke Songs

2009-02-25T20:18:00.001-06:00

Karaoke bars. No matter how you feel about them, you will invariably find yourself at one listening to some homely middle aged Hoosier woman belting out “Magic Man” by Heart as she dreams of the Magic Man of her youth (who for all intents and purposes is Todd from Beavis & Butthead). But Karaoke bars aren’t all Hoosiers singing Heart, frat boys adding ‘fuck’s to Bonnie Tyler lyrics, and promiscuous revelers performing that David Allen Coe song. No, sometimes due to the wildly inappropriate song choice of a clueless performer or a mischievous asshole, a karaoke bar can be transformed into a theatre of the hilariously awkward and absurd.

Our question to you is this: what are the most inappropriate karaoke song choices that you can think of? It can be a mood killer (True story, I once heard someone do Live’s “Lightning Crashes” in front of a rowdy Friday night crowd. Nothing stops the party like a person singing about placentas falling to the floor); inappropriate due to circumstances (Prince’s “P Control” during an outing with co-workers); inappropriate due to location (Neil Young’s “Southern Man” at a Mobile, Alabama sports bar); or just inappropriate for karaoke (anything by Dream Theater).

Feel free to pick songs from real life experiences as well as hypotheticals. And lest we devolve into a discussion of merely the most offensive songs you can think off, try to stick to songs you might ostensibly find in a karaoke songlist. (i.e., no songs by bands fronted by Seth Putnam).

--Travis Newman

Album Review: Animal Collective - Merriweather Post Pavilion

2009-02-19T21:48:00.008-06:00

Animal Collective

Merriweather Post Pavilion

Rating: I have never met someone from Hoboken, New Jersey that I didn't want to immediately put in a headlock.

I read somewhere that if you wanted to start a fight within the community of slack-jawed alternative yokels that read the magazine No Depression, all you had to do was bring up Wilco’s 1999 album Summerteeth. Some of them loved it and embraced Chicago’s favorite sons' new sense of experimentation. The others hated it, and felt the St. Louis band had snubbed the alternative country scene. (A scene that Chuck Klosterman once accurately pointed out rested on the laurels of a bunch of musicians born in the late 1960s writing songs about their experiences during the Great Depression and their affinity for fine malt whiskey.) I really do think there were certain Wilco fans that were reluctant to sign off on such a dramatic shift of sound. But there was something else at play, too. Some fans just weren’t ready to share the band with the new fans roped in by Summerteeth.

The same sort of thing could be at play with Animal Collective’s eighth album Merriweather Post Pavilion (hereinafter, MPP). MPP has a slightly more generous sound than their prior records, and those that have never heard or bothered with Animal Collective might finally tune in and start to understand what all the fuss is about. Therefore, if I had to guess (and I base this on nothing, mind you, other than a hunch), I wouldn’t be surprised if there are certain Animal Collective fans who have been around since the Spirit They’re Gone, Spirit They’ve Vanished days that are lining up to hate, or at least slightly resent, MPP. Take the second track “My Girls.” It’s an incredible song with all the proper Animal Collective experimental ingredients along with the requisite nonsensical chorus (“I don't mean to seem like I care about material things like a social status/ I just want four walls and adobe slabs for my girls.”). Oh, and it’s catchy as hell. So catchy your mom might like it. And there’s nothing like a great melody and moms to piss off the original fan base.

The album starts off with “In the Flowers,” a showcase of dreamy pop that eventually navigates into a series of crashing drums and just a big mess of awesome noises and vocals. Oh, brother, I really like this song. That notwithstanding, if the melody from “In the Flowers” isn’t lifted directly from the underwater levels from Super Nintendo’s 1994 classic Donkey Kong Country, then I didn’t beat that game during a 37-hour Coca-Cola and Doritos induced barrage of button-pushing instincts unrivaled to this day. So move over Coldplay and Joe Satriani, we might have another lawsuit on our hands.

MPP was actually released in several forms right after the New Year, and that’s when we here at NQL initially planned to do something with the record. But after glowing reviews starting pouring in from every direction, we thought it would be better to take a step back, give it a month, and then take another look. The best way to determine an album’s worth is usually after the honeymoon is over. (I believe this last sentence to be true. But what I wrote before it is a complete lie. What actually happened was laziness set in and before we knew it the album had been out for well over a month and we hadn’t done anything. The delay was completely unplanned.)

I bring this up because the virtues of the album become nearly impossible to ignore after listening to track 7, “Taste.” It’s not the strongest track on MPP, but it’s the first time I allowed myself to come to grips with the fact that this is a pretty great record. It’s an admission that must be made when you’ve been listening to an album nearly non-stop for a month and can still breeze through the half-way point with no intention of changing the dial. And symbolism aside, it’s a pretty good song. At the 0:37 mark, a really weird noise serves as a springboard for another rather catchy melody. And yes, when I review an album, that’s as good of a musical description you will get from me: a really weird noise and a catchy melody. Robert Christgau I am not.

That’s not to say they are all winners on MPP. “Daily Routine” is a bit of a bore, and “No More Runnin” is so sleepy it nearly cured the headache I got from staring at the ridiculous album cover. But if they’re the worse MPP has to offer, you can go to sleep at night knowing you’re in good hands. You can also rest assured knowing they’re the only tracks that have any stench of filler. Most of the tracks so brazenly attempt to mix creativity with basic pop sensibilities, that at the very least, you have to applaud the effort. For example, “Lion in a Coma” and the last track, “Brother Sport,” are so worldly absurd they wouldn’t be out of place on the Jungle Book Soundtrack. And I mean that in the most endearing way possible because you’re probably going to love these two songs, while at the same time trying to comprehend what you're actually listening to. At least, that's what happened to me.

Just as these two songs, along with the aforementioned “My Girls,” will be inviting to people looking for room on the Animal Collective bandwagon, I suspect they are the same songs that could potentially persuade veteran Animal Collective fans to give up their existing seats. But the more I think about it, there’s a good chance I am wrong. Even with this record, Animal Collective is still not going to appeal to the Rhianna crowd, or to even a large segment of people who own Arcade Fire records. The fresh and funky pop still gives way to that sense of avant-garde-ism that has always dominated their sound. And if there are any old Animal Collective fans who do find MPP to be just a tad too welcoming to all the new faces now listening to the band, I’ll be happy to let them borrow my copy of A.M. to keep them busy until something more akin to their taste comes along. In fact, they can keep it. I insist.

--Alex

Album Review: Morrissey - Years of Refusal

2009-02-17T20:29:00.005-06:00

Morrissey

Years of Refusal

Rating: His best since Vauxhall and I.

Beginning with the 2004 comeback album Morrissey Holding a Tommy Gun (aka: You are the Quarry) and continuing with 2006's Morrissey Holding a Violin (aka: Ringleader of the Tormentors), Steven Patrick has put together a pretty good run of albums featuring covers of His Pompadourness holding something. Morrissey Holding a Baby (aka: Years of Refusal) is the clear high point of this recent run and his best effort in about 15 years. While his voice sounds as strong and clear as it always has, he sounds a little more growly and pissed off than usual. The opener "Something is Squeezing My Skull" sets more of a rocking, angry tone than his recent output, and that tone lingers throughout the album. The Tormentors (Morrissey's backing band) get to play around a little more this time, evidenced by the bit of fuzz guitar (or something) during "Mama Lay Softly on the Riverbed." They continue the trend of being an excellent band while not sounding at all like Johnny Marr & Co.

The album's high points come fast and furious (without the Tokyo drift). The first three tracks are excellent, I think the best on the album. The fourth track, "I'm Throwing My Arms Around Paris" is a fine song, but unfortunately kills the momentum that the first three tracks so strongly establish. From there on, the songs are still very good (especially "All You Need Is Me" and "It's Not Your Birthday Anymore"), but only hint at an overarching theme. Perhaps this theme will reveal itself more fully after repeated listens, which will certainly occur. Overall, Years of Refusal is a very, very good album that was certainly hinted at in Quarry and Ringleader. I think the songs might even be better live when they are illustrated by Morrissey's posturing and mugging. I will see this spectacle at the end of March (for the first time). After finally hearing this album, I can't wait.

--Jim Powers

“A Slow Day in the Music World” Presents….What a Show is Worth: An Exercise in Redunkulousness

2009-02-15T20:02:00.003-06:00

I was rudely reminded of Ticketmaster's insidious takeover of the music industry early this morning when I got online to buy a ticket to see Delta Spirit at the Double Door. A ticket that advertised for an affordable eight dollars, amounted to $17 after that “convenience” and “processing” fee. Yes folks, the fees themselves cost more than the ticket.

If we are placing a dollar amount to imply a product’s worth, then are we saying that Ticketmaster handling our transaction is worth MORE than the show? I wonder how Delta Spirit would feel about that. Ticketmaster was also recently exposed jacking up ticket prices for a Springsteen show that was sold under one of their underlings, TicketNow. Why do we have to use a third party to purchase tickets? How about some good ol’ fashioned bartering? I give you a fish, you play me a song. And I’ll buy a beer to make it worthwhile for the house.

I assume in order for this to be a financially viable arrangement, the Double Door must be receiving some sort of kickback by handing over all ticket sales to Ticketmaster. I e-mailed the folks at the Double Door to see what their decisions were behind using Ticketmaster. It has been over 48 hours and I haven’t heard anything. Nothing like the old pass-by. (It was more an exercise in shaking my fist in indignation than really expecting I would get a response.) So to Ticketmaster and our friends at the Double Door: How about some transparency? I never thought I would long for those days where I lined up for hours outside in the cold waiting for the box office to open. (Nor can I believe I did that for Bush, Goo Goo Dolls and No Doubt).

Ticketmaster and the Double Door are the only ones I see who benefit from all the fees. That is, unless the artists get a cut of the fees, but somehow I doubt that is the case. So we're left with two organizations that get more money, an artist that is largely unaffected, and a reluctant concert-goer. Starting fifty online purchases ago, I swore each time it would be the last time that I buy anything via Ticketmaster. I still firmly believe that I will never buy a ticket from them but I keep on doing it. Anyway, the truth is that it would be hard to do anyway given Ticketmaster’s ever-widening sphere of influence, especially now that they have merged with Live Nation. They now oversee all ticket sales from here to Timbuktu and in no short time I’m sure they will be charging ‘convenience’ fees to use the bathrooms at your local high school musical.

I could not justify this purchase. I’m sure Ticketmaster felt really, really bad about it since it made absolutely no impact in their books. If Delta Spirit grows in popularity such that they need huge venues with ticket vendors in Times Square, then sure, add on the fees. For now, using a behemoth ticketing company for small time bands simply doesn’t seem right. If Ticketmaster aids in sales and helps Delta Spirit grow in popularity, we may have an honest debate. But for a night that is billed as “A Double Door Budget Buster Show,” does it really make sense to make the online price twice the face value? Gimme a break.

--Audrey Wen

Kanye, The Gaslight Anthem, and the Everlasting Importance of the Album

2009-02-09T21:24:00.017-06:00

I was watching Saturday Night Live completely by default before the New Year and caught Kanye West performing the song “Love Lockdown” from his latest album 808’s & Heartbreaks. I was curious because I hadn’t heard the album (never been that big of a fan), but the buzz had been telling me that 808’s was staunchly different from anything West had previously done. As always, listen to the buzz. I completely stopped what I was doing (in this case, I wasn’t doing anything, which is why I was watching Saturday Night Live in the first place, but if I was, I would have stopped doing it) and just focused on the television. I was blown away. I couldn’t even figure out what genre of music I was supposed to be watching. Was this hip-hop? Electronic? Rock? I hadn’t the first damn clue, which is probably one of the reasons Kanye’s performance was so captivating.

At least, to me.

Ironically, someone who had never been that big of a fan was one of the few persons that actually liked what Kanye was trying to do. The mass public thought it was the worst musical performance on Saturday Night Live since Ashlee Simpson tried to pull a “Cyrano de Bergerac” on live television. (That reference actually works on two levels if you think of Simpson before her rhinoplasty escapades.) Maybe Kanye’s voice was a little flat (in an exchange of emails, Scott went as far as to call the performance “really bad and awkward”), I don’t know, I was too busy watching a performance that, by most standards, would be completely illogical for an artist in his prime. It was as if I finally understood and appreciated Kanye West’s career in one four-minute “really bad and awkward ” span. He takes risks and remains devoid of predictability. This is why his career is prone to mistakes, but never boredom. And I could just tell that “Love Lockdown” was a great song, and that 808’s was an album that I would soon own.

Take note of the word “album.” Even though “Love Lockdown” was still the only song I had heard (how up to this point I had missed out on “Robocop” is beyond me), I wanted the entire album. Handing over $0.99 to Steve Jobs for one song wasn’t going to get the job done. Sometime after 2009, the album was purchased and quickly solidified as a favorite. (Purchased might be a stretch. “Burned” is probably technically accurate. Hey, read the paper, times are tough.)

To that end, another album comes to mind. A few weeks ago Brian urged me to check out The ’59 Sound by The Gaslight Anthem. I procrastinated. For whatever reason, I’m awfully hesitant to listen to something when it comes in the form of a recommendation. Well, here’s a lesson: When you have friends with whom you share a somewhat analogous musical taste, and they recommend music based on what they think will be compatible with your musical profile, you should listen. Nine times out of 11 you’ll be happy that you did.

And as for The Gaslight Anthem, well I certainly couldn’t be happier. I started listening to The ’59 Sound about three days ago and have only stopped to sleep, go to work, and have a meal or two. It’s that fucking good. It’s Springsteen music for a generation of music listeners who would look at a picture of Steven Van Zandt and think “Silvio Dante” well before they would ever think "guitar player for the E-Street Band." About half-way through the first spin, I called my brother and told him I think I had discovered something he might want to check out. By the time the album was over, I was calling him back and leaving an impassioned voicemail demanding he get this record. I was sending out text messages, banging on neighbors' doors--anything to spread the wealth.

It’s a bit weird listening to The Gaslight Anthem. For all intents and purposes they’re about my age, and they play this sort of essentially-American rock music and sing about classic cars, roller-skates, and pinball machines. But it works. Oh, man, does it work. Somewhere Brandon Flowers is listening to The ’59 Sound and thinking to himself, “Oh, yeah, that’s what Sam’s Town was supposed to sound like.” Now, I’m one of the few that actually has a soft spot for Sam’s Town, but I don’t how see how even the biggest Killers apologist can’t concede that it slightly missed the mark. The ’59 Sound doesn’t. And I have now reached that point where I am actually trying to conjure up any semblance of will power I have to not listen to the record. I don’t want to ruin the buzz too soon. I don’t want to be listening to The ’59 Sound a month from now and just feel like I’m chasing the musical dragon. But so far, so good, and I have plenty of music lying around that will keep any side-effects of withdrawal from being too painful.

Both 808's & Heartbreaks and The '59 Sound came out in late 2008. And I’m focusing on a couple of late-2008 albums for two reasons. First, I want a mulligan, make that two, on my best-of 2008 album list. (Sorry MGMT,Hold Steady…you’re out.) Music is one of the few things where it’s generally not considered cool to be fashionably late. But I’m here to tell you it’s okay. I had never listened to Loveless by My Bloody Valentine until this past year and we all seemed to survive just fine, didn’t we? (Perhaps this will be the year I’ll get around to listening to that Slanted and Enchanted nonsense.) And did I just reveal that year-end lists are completely meaningless and selective at best? Yes. Yes, I did. But they’re fun, and their lack of relevance is news to no one.

Second, and most important, even in 2009, albums still mean something. Anyone can pay attention to a three minute single, but it takes discipline to spend time with an album. I have no idea what song owned the 2005 Grammy Awards, but I rue the day I ever forget what won Album of the Year. (Okay, bad example.) But my favorite albums would all be incomplete with even the worst track missing. The setup is as important as the climax. You wouldn't read just a couple of random chapters out of a great book, and you wouldn't buy OK Computer and only listen to "Karma Police." (Alright, maybe you would, but you shouldn't.)

Word is people aren’t really buying albums these days. Labels and musicians know it, and the whole idea seems to be slowly dying. Bands are now finding new ways to get their songs heard. Fine with me. But if ten years from now the only way I can listen to my favorite band is through singular form, or by watching a commercial from the Super Bowl, or having to buy the latest edition of Guitar Hero, then that’s going to really suck.

When recently being interviewed by Greg Kot of the Chicago Tribune, Billy Corgan was asked if the Smashing Pumpkins were done making albums. He responded, “We’re done with that. There is no point. People don’t even listen to it all. They put it on their iPod, they drag over the two singles, and skip over the rest. The listening patterns have changed, so why are we killing ourselves to do albums, to create balance, and do the arty track to set up the single? It’s done.” Well, bravo to that kind of thinking, I guess, but I don’t think people were forced to listen to Cut the Crap by the Clash all the way through just because it happened to predate the iPod. No, they pointed the needle in the direction of “This Is England” and then went on about their day. So tell me how listening patterns have changed?

And if they have changed, maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe iTunes has actually raised the standard for what people will now accept as an album. The consumer is now enabled to only pay for three songs if there are only three songs worthy of one's attention. With all due respect to Corgan (and I’m usually the only person this side of Hipsters United that argues he deserves any), if he wants a collection of songs to be treated as one big happy family, the solution is rather simple. Record 10-12 songs and prove they all belong. Kanye did it. So did The Gaslight Anthem. And somehow I doubt they will be the last to successfully conquer this "outdated" phenomenon. Put out a good album, and we will listen to it. Above example notwithstanding, we will even buy it. And although we might occasionally be late to the party, we'll get there eventually.

--Alex

Meet Me In the Dollar Bin

2009-02-05T20:49:00.009-06:00

Music obsessives are well-versed in searching the dollar bin; their eyes attuned to scan the minute point size of CD-spine text and minuscule record-label logos--like a red-tailed hawk spotting a prairie dog from 500 feet. The dollar bin is wonderful and necessary, but let's be honest: the shit-to-gold ratio hovers somewhere around 50-to-1. But when you find that 1, it's like pulling a 24-carat nugget from amid a panful of schist and granite pebbles. You dance your jig and go home happy. In this new recurring NQL feature, we discuss and dissect those 24-carat nuggets. First up: Copper Blue, the overlooked 1992 debut from Bob Mould's excellent post-Hüsker Dü outfit, Sugar (and, coincidentally, a nice companion to Jim's latest opus).

Confession: I'm not really that into Hüsker Dü. As a music nerd, I know they're a band I'm supposed to like, I know they're influential and seminal and all that, and their chapter in Our Band Could Be Your Life was rad, but for whatever reason, they've never hooked me like so many of their SST brethren and underground/hardcore/noise-rock contemporaries. So I had no real stake in Sugar--a classic guitar-bass-drums power trio--but I had heard enough good about them to snatch up Copper Blue when I saw it on clearance.

"The Act We Act" kicks off the album innocuously enough, and as any great album should be kicked off: with power chords. But make no mistake, this is not a "nice" record. The first hint is Pixies rip/fetish-ballad "A Good Idea", a tune about a dude fake-drowning his girlfriend: "The air was thick with the smell of temptation," we learn, as "he held her down in the water"--and she fucking likes it: "I wanna feel you in the water with your hands on my head." Whatever gets you through the day, I guess. (I wonder if this is a documented paraphilia? But I'll save that discussion for my other blog.) "Hoover Dam" uses its titular edifice as a metaphor for the divide between sanity and insanity--the "center line / right between two states of mind"--and makes suicide sound quite intriguing. The song employs a snaky synth line which critics have called "a wry tribute to Sgt. Pepper's orchestral-pop grandeur." Agree, kind of, but I hear more cheese than irony/humor, yet the synth is effective nonetheless.

Another clear highlight jump-starts the album's back half. "If I Can't Change Your Mind", a power-pop sugar rush (Sugar rush?) which most children of the '90s will recognize for its indelible melody. Beneath that saccharine veneer, though, is a broken-hearted, pleading narrative of rejection and wasn't-meant-to-be resignation. The next track, "Fortune Teller", is a perfect slice of straight-ahead rock; I just wish that four-bar guitar figure around 2:10 would happen more than once. "Man on the Moon" is the album's most playful cut--with its stops and starts, nonsensical lyrics ("don't you know that space is the place"), and most excellent guitar/synth bridge--and closes things on a fun (or at least less serious) note.

My grievances with Copper Blue are few and minor: (1) The grunge/post-grunge production dates the album somewhat. (2) The geography of "Hoover Dam" is just plain wrong: the real Hoover Dam spans the Colorado River, not the Mississippi. This flub is not a matter of cadence because both "Colorado" and "Mississippi" have the same number of syllables (four), or composition because both rivers also empty into a gulf (California and Mexico, respectively), so the lyrics would hold up regardless. How do you sleep at night, Bob Mould? (3) A few of the songs--"A Good Idea", "Changes", "Helpless"--go on too long, simply repeating a phrase or the chorus ad nauseum during the fade-out, giving the impression that Mould just couldn't come up with a suitable compositional ending. But no matter. These quibbles, individually or in sum, are hardly enough to detract from an album as uniformly solid as Copper Blue.

For a bit more insight into Copper Blue, check out the Beaster EP. Recorded during the Copper Blue sessions (I like that..."Copper Blue sessions"...imparts an air of importance to these proceedings), Beaster is as advertised: gnarly, dense, and heavy; more self-flagellant and unforgiving than its companion LP; and revealing in terms Mould's pop savvy and skills as a self-editor. The six songs on Beaster, "Walking Away" excepted, would've been too much for Copper Blue, and constitute a strong enough statement on their own. Beaster bristles with intensity and howls with loathing and anger. "Judas Cradle", for instance, deals with dishonesty ("could you lie and mean it?'), and "Feeling Better" tackles the push and pull of an unhealthy relationship ("you pull me off the floor / I'm coming back for more"). By comparison, Copper Blue is sunny.

One note before closing: While most of my attention has been focused on Mould, a great deal of credit belongs to his bandmates, drummer Malcolm Travis and bassit David Barbe. If Sugar were a human being, Malcolm and Barbe would be the muscles to Mould's skeleton. Analogies are not my strong suit.

From the forgotten corners of the '80s to the forgotten corners of the '90s and beyond, Bob Mould has made a career of being under-recognized and under-rewarded. And while he achieved a modicum of commercial success with Sugar (Copper Blue almost went Gold and was the NME's album of year in '92), the project was short-lived, producing only two full lengths and an EP. Even today Mould's work still flies largely below radar, which is a crime, because he is a legend and Copper Blue is a classic that should be discussed alongside other great albums of its era.

--Brian Herrmann

Under-Appreciated Albums, Part 3: The '90s (Part 1)

2009-02-04T20:48:00.005-06:00

I had a more difficult time trying to find albums from the '90s that are truly under-appreciated. While I did find a few a few that are straight up ignored, I think there are a bunch more that simply aren't loved enough. Perhaps this is because at some point in the late '90s, I began to develop better taste. I also got pretty good at researching what to listen to (thanks, Internet) and I think I have pretty good coverage of most of the good stuff that was released during the decade. The result of this is that there may be albums that are under-appreciated, but I just don't realize it. Like Deserter's Songs. Does everyone else think that's a classic? Probably, but maybe not. How about Ladies and Gentlemen...? Again, I don't really know. All of this is a preamble to say that these might seem pretty arbitrary to someone else because they're only really under-appreciated in my mind. Regardless, listen to them.

Morrissey - Vauxhall and I (1994)

A couple years ago, I had finally become a little tired of listening to the Smiths. After going through a months-long phase that saw me completely wear out The Queen is Dead, Strangeways, Meat Is Murder, and, especially, Louder Than Bombs, I thought I was done with all things Morrissey for a while. I hesitated to move on to Morrissey and Johnny Marr's separate post-Smiths output because I thought that one probably couldn't work without the other, and I had heard that Morrissey's solo stuff was just kind of OK. I did my diligence anyway and finally decided that, if I was going to give solo Morrissey a shot, that shot would be taken with Vauxhall and I.

Holy shit this album is amazing. It is very much a Morrissey solo album - the focus is entirely on his voice and lyrics (with one exception that I'll discuss in a minute). The arrangements are elegant and smart and do their job of not detracting from the star of the show. "Now My Heart Is Full" is an album high point and a wonderful opener. It includes one of my favorite lines ever: "loafing oafs in all night chemists / loafing oafs in all night chemists." I think it's awesome that he just used the same line twice to fit the song and it somehow turned into some sort of rallying cry--I want to throw my fist in the air when I hear it. The album moves along with solid cuts like "Spring-Heeled Jim" and hits its second of three high points with "The More You Ignore Me, The Closer I Get," one of Morrissey's funnier songs with awesome lines like "I will be in the bar / with my head on the bar" and "Beware, I bear more grudges / than lonely high court judges." Usually, I hate funny songs, but this one is an exception. The third high point is one of my favorite single moments in all of popular music. "Speedway," the album's closer, starts out with a short vocal and a sound that could be an engine revving or a chainsaw. The song moves along building tension until about the 2:50 mark when the drums start to kind of act up and Morrissey starts talking about lies and guilt by implication and being true to "you." Then, the moment, the last fifteen seconds where those vicious drums never fail to make me shiver.

Not enough people love this album. I understand why it's not mentioned in the same breath as the Smiths' classic output: because it's not the Smiths. It is, however, incredible in its own regard and deserves to be appreciated by both those who ignore Morrissey's solo output because they only love the Smiths and those who ignore Morrissey's output because they hate the Smiths.

Rancid - ...And Out Come the Wolves (1995)

This is one of the few albums I've either discussed or will discuss in this series that I've loved since it was released. I guess I was a junior in high school when it came out. During that time, I had questionable taste in music. I had just discovered Oasis, which eventually lead to Radiohead, which eventually lead to everything else, but my CD collection was generally full of the kinds of music that a suburban preppy kid would have. It may or may not have included Hootie and the Blowfish (okay, it did, although I maintain that Fairweather Johnson actually holds up kind of well--shut up, Jim). One genre of music that I had absolutely nothing to do with was punk. I didn't like Green Day, I hadn't even heard of the Ramones, and I think I knew who the Sex Pistols were, but if I did it was only because of Johnny Rotten's sporadic and completely insane appearances on MTV. I don't really know why I bought ...And Out Come the Wolves. I think I maybe heard "Ruby Soho" on the radio or something and gambled on it at my local Sam Goody.

I don't think I can pick out the highlights because all the songs are the same amount of good. That amount is very. "Ruby Soho" was the first song that attracted me to the album, but since then I think each song has been my favorite at one time or another. I'm listening to it as I type and I think "Journey to the End" might be my favorite this time. Critics of this album charge that Rancid is trying too hard to sound like the Clash. While that may be true, it works well, along the same lines as Interpol trying to sound like Joy Division on Turn on the Bright Lights. Rancid certainly follows the Clash's blueprint, but ends up with an album all their own. Other critics charge that the album is a departure from Rancid's more hard core roots (as on their self-titled debut and its follow up, Let's Go). Again, this may be true. But what's different about ...And Out Come the Wolves is that, while most underground bands' attempts at the mainstream are either failures or are commercially successful but betray their original sound, Rancid's attempt is a smashing success. This is as much a pop album as a punk album, but not the slightest bit pop-punk.

The album is basically ignored by the new music press. I'm not sure why. I think because it falls through the cracks as an album that didn't completely break through commercially, but isn't under the radar enough for it to be considered underrated. That's a shame because this is a terrific album from top to bottom.

R.E.M. - New Adventures in Hi-Fi (1996)

I think this is R.E.M.'s best album. It doesn't have the historic and influential cache of Murmur and doesn't include a single track as beloved as "Losing My Religion," but I think it's the best. It's unfortunate that it was released right after Monster. I think, after that abomination, a lot of people gave up on R.E.M. and consider their career to have sort of ended with Automatic for the People. It's a mistake. Both this album and (spoiler alert) Up are excellent and don't get their just due.

New Adventures works on two levels. First, it simply has great songs. "So Fast, So Numb" and "Electrolyte" are among the band's best, and there are really no sub-par tracks. I think "E-Bow the Letter" might be my favorite R.E.M. song, especially the live version with Thom Yorke singing Patti Smith's part. "Leave" is also awesome--that siren sound that I guess was made with a guitar that lasts almost the entire song is disarming and tense. I love the bit where it goes away for a few seconds at the end only to come back for an encore. The second level where the album works is the concept, which is not hidden: this is a road trip album. It smacks you in the face when you first see the album art's shots of wilderness, presumably somewhere in the American West. In case you didn't get it there, the first track, "How the West Was Won and Where it Got Us" drives the point home. That the album was mostly recorded on the road during the band's 1995 tour serves to drive the point home further.

Going back through old reviews, I see that New Adventures was reasonably well reviewed when it came out and people were happy that it was reissued recently. But I don't remember seeing it on too many best of the '90s lists, and I certainly don't see it cited when R.E.M.'s best output is listed and discussed. I'm actually not sure how well-regarded this album is. But it's definitely not well-regarded enough.

Twelve Caesars - Youth Is Wasted on the Young (1998)

These Swedes*, now known as simply Caesars in the US, are best known for having a couple of songs in commercials. The first one is what initially drew me to them, "I'm Gonna Kick You Out," from, I think, a Smirnoff Ice commercial (I remember that it took place in a laundromat). The second is the more popular "Jerk it Out" from an iPod commercial and also about a million video games. I remember a friend of mine finding "I'm Gonna Kick You Out" somewhere on the Internet in '02 or so, and us being excited that the whole song was as good as what the snippet from the commercial promised. I think I then bought Youth is Wasted on the Young off of eBay because it was an import and pretty tricky to find (it was later re-released in the US in 2003 as 39 Minutes of Bliss). I immediately loved it because the garage sound fit in perfectly with the other stuff I (and everyone else) was listening to: the Strokes, the White Stripes, the Hives, etc. The songs are great--the record is full of catchy songs that combine new garage and the Kinks. But what makes this album so impressive is when it originally came out: fucking 1998, three full years before the new garage explosion.

Listening to the album now, it's still great, but it's pretty unremarkable when compared to the other bands that were popular in 2001-02. The difference is that no one name checks this record in the same breath as those other ones (Is This It, White Blood Cells, Veni Vidi Vicious, etc.). And I guess they probably shouldn't. They should name check it as a predecessor to those records and an ahead-of-its-time classic. If this album had been released in 2001, it would be a fixture in most good record collections.

*That's a good band name.

--Jim Powers

The Virgins, Lizzy Trullie, Anya Marina--Schubas, Chicago, Illinois

2009-02-01T15:15:00.010-06:00

Almost.

This was the sense I repeatedly had throughout the night on Thursday evening when I visited the neighborly Schuba’s to see The Virgins, Lizzy Trullie, and Anya Marina. Everything seemed almost really, really good.

Actually, the opener, Anya Marina was the least guilty of this “almostness.” It was a cold night in Chicago, and her bright stage presence and golden hair warmed up the room as soon as she took to the stage. She is a DJ by profession, so she was never at a loss of words and was not afraid to tell a lengthy-but-worth-it story about her experiences in getting cups of hot water from gas stations in the south. She is supporting her new album Slow & Steady Seduction: Phase II which boast producers Louis XIV guitarist Brian Karscig and Spoon’s Britt Daniel. She played her songs either solo with guitar (an amazing Gibson acoustic and a beautiful Gibson hollow-body) or backed by some nice driving, sparse, non-bubbly programmed beats. She played “Move On” from her new album, and it was one of the night’s highlights. She seemed at her most comfortable all night in this song. The only reason that Anya fell into the “almost” category that the other two bands truly earned is that while she seemed completely at ease while talking on stage, she seemed a little less certain about playing her guitar and singing. It sounded really good, but she was distracted by looking down to make certain that all of her guitar chord changes. Of course, we want the chords to be right, but we also want the singer to be there with us. Anya delivered what we (my wife and I) thought was the most “delightful” music of the night. My wife had a large smile on her face the whole time, which means she is enjoying the music but also enjoying the person.

The crowd enjoyed her music as well, but really came alive when Anya did a fantastically adapted cover of T.I.’s “You Can Have Whatever You Like.” Now, I am already a fan of this song on its own merit. But Anya did not just go the easy party style route, but instead, went with a slower, heartfelt mood that suited the songs chord structure. Well done, Anya. Just look up at us so we can see your beautiful face and see your personality while you are singing, as well as entertaining us in between songs and you will be quickly rise above the aforementioned almostness.

Lizzy Trullie and her band were next up. Their whole set seemed almost good. At the beginning of the set, Lizzy said her dad was a teacher at Northwestern and was in the audience this evening. Could this be the reason that she never seemed to depart into the music? Nervous because dad was watching to see what all this rock and roll nonsense she had been wasting her time on was all about? Their first song, “Boy Boy” opened well, and “With You” was strong, but then the rest just kinda chugged along. Their music sounds like a Velvet Undergroundy and a 70’s New Yorky style. Three or four chords, simple, subtle, rocking slowly. I kept thinking that perhaps this would sound better on an album with the vocals given the space and front stage they need. But because of the style music, I bet if I heard it on an album, I would think, “I bet this is amazing in concert.” This does not bode well. Indeed, I did listen to her recorded stuff post concert and enjoyed it. I think Lissy’s lack of ability to let go into the music on this particular evening was the thing that kept it from popping into place. She sings in a way that it is more rhythmic than melodic, so without feeling like she was there, it was hard for me to be there with her. To close, the band came together with a different sound for a great cover of Hot Chip’s "Ready for the Floor" and mopped said floor with it. Over all, we’ll blame Dad on this one. Lizzy did not seem to be her same “bad ass” self this evening. Maybe she was just fueling up on parental rebellion angst that evening to get her through the rest of the tour.

So then the Virgins come out. Yes. They “almost” sounded like The Strokes. This is obviously the easy, but true comparison. Much of Donald Cumming’s phasing and inflection is very akin to Julian Casablancas, so that fact must go up front. The rest he seemed to have lifted from Mick Jagger and an '80s band I can’t quite place. The band, however, pulls a bit more funk and disco into the mix. Cumming’s was having a good time on stage prancing around. However, I did get the feel that there was a little burnout in the air. “What town are we in?” The band was into amusing themselves as they played. They almost delivered.

They were loud, rambunctious, and high energy, yet it didn’t quite work. They played through their hits. The crowd enjoyed. They closed with a cover of INXS’s "The Devil Inside." Now, I had already had grown a bit weary of Cumming’s over-pronunciation during the course of the evening. Words like “really” were pronounced “ree-ah-lee-uh.” So when he went into the never ending repeating of “The devil inside, the devil inside, every single one of us, the devil inside” at the end of the song, I grabbed my coat. (Incidentally, one realizes the genius of Michael Hutchence when hearing someone else sing that song.) The band was ripping it to shreds though. Big ending! The occurrence following summed up their set. The band after slamming the last chord said, “Thank you. Good night,” and abruptly left the stage. The house lights came up to half. Everyone turned and started looking for their coat. Conversations were mounted concerning the rest of the evening. Hugs were given and people started making their way toward the door. Then the band walked back out on stage. “We are gonna play a few more songs for y’all. I hope that is alright!” The folks in the front jumped up and down. The folks that were already wearing their coats kept their inertia away from the band, and the remainder of the show was played for a half house (which did not include me).

Were we supposed to cheer for an encore? Did we miss our cue? Were we guilty of breaking rock show etiquette? I think not. It seemed most people had had a good time, had gotten their fix of the catchy pop rock they came to hear, and decided getting home 30 minutes earlier than planned sounded better than 30 more minutes with the Virgins.

--Scott Rudolph

Photos by Scott Rudolph.

Frightened Rabbit--The Empty Bottle, Chicago, Illinois

2009-01-27T19:12:00.011-06:00

We at NQL are nothing if we are not thorough. Just because a band was good here, does not mean they will be good there. At NQL, we hold bands to a high standard. We know it is not fair, but we want every show to be a good one. It really comes down to responsibilities. The band’s responsibility is to try their best to be in the moment and put on a good show. Unfortunately for bands, our responsibility is report on the musical experience as offered. We understand that bands have off nights. We understand that occasionally a lead guitarist might find out he was dumped before walking on stage and instead of channeling that into blues, he channels into dysfunction.

This being the case, Alex saw Frightened Rabbit in D.C. both recently and awhile back and reported upon good shows delivered by really decent guys who were very much present and aware the unique and beautiful opportunity it is to play music live for fans. So, in keeping with quality control standards, I wondered if such a show might be repeated in the fair city of the first Ferris wheel.

Having read previous posts about this band and being aware of the year end excitement, I was curious to see what the hubbub was about. Frightened Rabbit made some top ten lists for the New Year, and I am generally behind the curve. Al had given me The Midnight Organ Fight due to his excitement of it. I tend to like to hear an album through before I see a band. Something about having a vague familiarity with the music that makes it more enjoyable (I think you know what I am talking about, right? That is everyone, right?).

I had never heard the Organ Fight album so I put it on Friday morning. I listened to the album once and really enjoyed it. I listened again and things opened up a bit. I listened again (compelled, not obligated) and the music started feeling that wonderful combination of familiar and still compelling in an urgent way. By the third spin, it was clear I would be attending the concert. Spin four was just because it is really good. I realized that Frightened Rabbit was not breaking down any innovative doors, but they were going straight to the source of what makes good music: feeling, authenticity, and heart.

I was going to this show solo, and I acquired the ticket from our good friends at Craigslist. Steve had an extra and was not a scalper (however, I think Steve got his tickets for free, so he was still making a buck, but at least he was not scalping). One never knows when one buys a loose ticket at a small show. I have gone on to have wonderful evenings tied to the ticket provider, or other times, I have handed my money to a grunting troll. Steve was a nice guy and offered introductory company to his group of three friends to Page (another ticket buyer) and me.

I had never been to the Empty Bottle before. I was excited because I thought it was a bigger venue. It is small and wonderful. The opening band was Arc in Round. I really enjoyed their set. It was singer songwriter stuff twice removed and more ambiguous with an ethereal atmosphere behind it all juxtaposed with really, really tight, sharp drumming (well done drummer with the moustache!).

Before Arc in Round, Page and I missed the intro poem of apparently iconic and legendary Thax Douglas because Steve was busy explaining who he was. We did catch his poem the second time around before Frightened Rabbit. Go local legend! I hope to be some odd, obscure, eccentric character in a scene that is cross-culture some day. I plan to do this when I am 62.

So the band Frightened Rabbit comes onto stage. They go straight into heart, passion, and appreciation. Since I have stated my knowledge of this band is minor, I will present my comments in bullet form:

Frightened Rabbit played two shows: one at 7:00 one at 10:00. They were well aware of this. Seeing the first show did not detract from the energy given by the band. The band had enough energy for four shows. They were so excited to be there. “Aw shucks, this is amazing.” That was the vibe. They felt welcome and appreciated in Chicago, humbled by the two shows selling out and probably high off a well received show last time around.

Frightened Rabbit plays music because they mean it. Scott Hutchison is a joy to watch because he embodied the spirit of, “I am in ecstasy that you are all here. I really can’t believe you are all here to see our band and to hear my songs. This is a dream. This is one of the best nights of my life.”

When done well, watching someone bare their soul about a tragic breakup in song can be horrible, painful, and monotonous; or amazing, relational, and moving. This show provided the latter.

My goodness. How can all of you people just stand there and not move while that sound is happening. I understand cerebrally consuming music, but by God, move a little bit. I tend to dance/move a little bit. This crowd did not move much. They appreciated it, but for the most part, remained motionless. I guess this is the price you pay for having your music listened to by a bunch of people who “know good music when they hear it.”

The fashion world loves black. Be it Michigan Avenue or small music scene, the people love black. The place looked like a funeral. Where it not for the amazed grins, elated outburst after the songs, and constrained body sways, I would have thought we were burying Laura Palmer.

I have seen too many shows by artists who are “artists” and play the music because they have created some songs for us to have the benefit to hear. Frightened Rabbit played songs because they wrote them and they meant them. We were all there because they wrote them, they meant them, and the songs meant something to us as well. Or at the very least, we could tell that they meant so very much to the band. It is possible that an audience member might have grown weary and bored if they were looking to hear a wide range of musical style or innovation. But if an audience member was present with the band in their moment to hear what they had to say, the night could not fail. Either sympathetic or empathetic, Frightened Rabbit provided the energy and emotion that provided a night of wonderful communal music.

After the concert, a girl next to whom I had been listening and dancing turned to me and said, “I am not trying to say this in a creepy way or anything, but what are you doing after the show.”
I said, “Oh. I am married, if that is what you mean.”
She said, “Oh no. I am from Milwaukee and was just looking for something to do next.”
“Oh,” I said. “Well. If you would like to come with me, I am going to go check out a DJ and then a local label named Contraphonic is having some of their bands play at this loft place. You are welcome to join me if you would like.”

The girl did join me, proceeded to get drunk, enjoy her evening, and sleep on my couch that night. She is now a staff writer at NQL.

--Scott Rudolph

Photos by Jackelyn Crystal Wicklund and Scott Rudolph.

Animal Collective--The Metro, Chicago, Illinois

2009-01-25T15:17:00.006-06:00

Bands often give cities a feel for their music scene. Mainstays for great music have always been Chicago, New York, Austin, Athens, Nashville, Seattle, DC, Nashville, etc. A recent hotspot has become Baltimore from which Animal Collective hails. Not that I ever really wondered about Detroit’s rock scene, but I got my first taste of D-Town in the opener, Rodriguez. The frontman (I don’t know his name and didn’t look it up, my reasons will be clear in a few moments) wore loose leather (or was it pleather?) clothes including a leather vest, exposing his leathery arms. He donned the always-cool, indoor shades and a black, flat top hat with long, black curly hair spewing out from under the brim. Sound familiar? My thoughts were validated when someone yelled “WELCOME TO THE JUNGLE!!!” just before they began. Who these bozos were, I don’t know. It was an odd choice for opener and thankfully it was a short set. I also felt a little cheated because I never saw an opening band listed on the Metro website and so I thought it was going to be “An Evening With” Animal Collective, one of those shows where the rare, juicy 20-ounce steak is slapped down on your plate without the salad or other opening band appetizers. They appeared to be an average rock band with a questionable lead man. Warm up the bus, Busters, the traffic has parted and the Skyway is wide open.

Last summer, Animal Collective gave an “off-the-hook” performance at the Pitchfork Music Festival, one that drove me wild over red bucket hats and Strawberry Jam. It was a set that ultimately was responsible for me buying Water Curses, Feels and ripping off Merriweather Post Pavillion in a feverish two-week span leading up to this show. And my God, all the talk surrounding Merriweather has been enough to make gossipy teenagers’ heads hang low.

An enthusiastic yet tame crowd made for a great ambience when Animal Collective came on. In a second-hand ghanja haze and slightly more tipsy than need be on a weekday night, I was hypnotized by Animal Collective. Every last body was rockin’, hands in the air, even down to the last person in the back by the bar. Admittedly, I didn’t recognize anything other than “My Girls” and “Lion in a Coma.” Animal Collective is known for their unpredictable shows, so I may have been in the presence of improvisational genius, but I would not have known because I was so hell bent on hearing “Bluish,” “Fireworks,” “Reverend Green,” or “Banshee Beat,” or some live amalgamated version of them. Avey Tare seemed to be running on low fuel, and later it was revealed that he had lost his voice (and they cancelled their LA show the next night). Panda Bear made up for it with his indie rock, billboard-smasher, “Comfy in Nautica.” The igneous Geologist’s head bobbled away with the headlamp and his metamorphic, out-of-any-world-we-know sounds*.

While I enjoyed this show, I second Pitchfork’s review on New York City's show in that something seemed to be missing. And let it be known that I came up with that opinion before I read the bellwether Pitchfork site review. Avey Tare’s kiddish voice punctuated by episodes of screaming at the top of his lungs was notably absent (a style which is absolutely awesome, by the way). Perhaps we were getting him at the beginning of an illness. And we didn’t get the awesome blinding modern light show that New York got the night before. Even so, the songs I consider to be their trademarks did not make the set list. But my ears are AC-naïve as this was my first real Animal Collective show. Are they are teasing us by not giving us exactly what we want? Naturally, this makes us like them more -- simple, effective playground politics.

Or maybe we’ve over-speculated this pork belly. There has been such ridiculous hype swirling around this band that it’s become a disappointment that they are not blowing our socks off at warp speed with our hair on fire. They are only really, really good which at the moment is not good enough. This is the curse of receiving a 9.6 rating on Pitchfork.

*For interesting insight into Animal Collective’s “circuit-bending” sounds, check out the Chicago Public Radio story, “Bent” by Delaney Hall, it starts around 14:30 into the program.

--Audrey Wen