Interview//Setlist: Matt Pond, Charleston, SC

Fortunate to have spoken with Matt Pond recently about his new album, the authors that he reads, and how his music relates to his perception. Read the interview at Stereo Subversion, here.

(Matt Pond, The Lives Inside the Lines In Your Hand, 2013)

Matt Pond's new record, The Lives Inside the Lines In Your Hands is out today and is excellent. He played a great set with a full band last Friday, February 1 at The Tin Roof in Charleston, SC. Here's the setlist:

Matt Pond, February 1, 2013: The Tin Roof, Charleston, SC
-From Debris
-Starting
-So Much Trouble
-Let Me Live
-Brooklyn Stars
-Starlet
-Love to Get Used
-KC
-Go Where the Leaves Go
-Closest (Look Out)
-New Hampshire
-Specks
-Halloween
Encore:
-Wild Girl
-Fairlee

Live Review: Jeff Mangum, Charleston Music Hall

If you had no context, no knowledge of the past 15 years of popular music, and you wandered in seemingly unaware of who Jeff Mangum was and why so many people were packed into a concert hall to hear his simple, ethereal songs, then you might not understand. 

But, then again, maybe you would. Maybe Mangum could help you to understand. 

Jeff Mangum is his own gravitational force, both in mythos and in reality. Have any of us ever gotten tired of seeing that lilting cover of In the Aeroplane Over the Sea? Do we get bored when listening to "King of Carrot Flowers" for the 1000th time? Do we still weep when Mangum sings, "how strange it is to be anything at all"? Can Mangum be the man behind this opus? 

Wandering onstage while the house lights were still up, my brother-in-law turned to me and said, "Is that him?" I wasn't a question; more of a proclamation. That was him. He really was here. He was about to play all of our favorite songs. The mere sight of a long-haired, chin-bearded Mangum made the audience rise to their feet; some younger college-goers bowed in a "We are not worthy!" manner. Women and men screamed, "I love you!" Half the crowd could have left after just seeing him come onstage. 

Mangum took his time getting warmed up, dipping his toes in with the deep end with the 8 minute, "Oh Comely," moving   lithely on  to "Two-Headed Boy," then "Song Against Sex" and "Gardenhead/Leave Me Alone," before finally indulging us to sing-along with him on "King of Carrot Flowers." The sold out theatre dipped and hummed trying to keep up with his vocal responses--it felt spiritual, communal, cathartic. Everything felt ok. A longing we kept with us had just been cured, and as long as we got to sing along a little more and maybe hear, "Holland, 1945" and "In the Aeroplane Over the Sea," then we could all get up and make it through the next day. We sang along with Mangum to both songs. People danced, literally, in the aisles. Some wept. Not openly, but quietly, tears gathering at the corner of their eyes.

It was quick evening. Openers The Tall Firs (lovely fellows, by the way) were on by 8:12PM, off by 8:40, Mangum strolled out a little after nine, and we were home by 10:47. But it was all we needed; all we could have asked for. No new material (of course) just Mangum covering most of On Avery Island--including one of my favorites, "Naomi"--and Aeroplane. I heard the usual chatter as we exited: "That was the greatest show I've ever seen," "I'll never be able to see another show in my life," "I can die happily now." Hyperbole, all; but that's what Mangum inspires. And in an era where irony is still very much passed off as credible currency, the evening felt like something genuine.  A small fraction of like-mindedness and unparalleled joy. 

Live Review: Ryan Adams and the Cardinals, North Charleston Performing Arts Center, March 11, 2009

I don't go to many shows at venues that hold more than 500 people. So I already felt out of place at the North Charleston Performing Arts Center the night Ryan Adams and the Cardinals were set to play. The lobby at the 1000+ seat venue was overloaded with trampy sorority girls, bearded folkies, and more than four pregnant women in Ugg boots (?); all were sipping wine and mixed drinks that they paid WAY too much for. (Two Guinness for me and my friend ran a total of $15--you do the math.)

Like everyone else, we heard a rumor that the night before Mr. Adams wed his one-time teenage pop star fiance', Mandy Moore, but I didn't believe it until the woman beside me pulled up the story on MTV.com on her Blackberry. And I don't believe anything until MTV.com confirms it to be true. Taking the stage at 8:45 to shouts of "Congratulations!" and "Where's Mandy?" the band seemed relaxed and official sounding. The guitars were tuned and ringing, and the floor tom had enough bass to it to shake a ribcage loose from it's skin.

Adams stuck to his livelier, more focused albums for the set: Cold Roses, Easy Tiger, and Cardinology, with the occasional tune from Heartbreaker and the Love is Hell series. In one sense it was the most predictable set of songs one could imagine, but with an artist like Adams, sometimes predictability is exactly what you want. After a number of songs, though, Adams announced there were some problems with the in-ear monitors (apparently they were picking up a radio station) and took a short ten minute intermission before returning--only to discover that the problem had not gone away. But Adams promised to "persevere and make this awesome." I took him at his word, even when some of the rhythmic noodle-jams between him and guitarist Neal Casal went on way too long with no direction.

Apparently I wasn't the only one who seemed bored because Adams signaled out a woman about three rows back in a red dress who was less than enthusiastic about the band's show. "We've been rockin' so hard for you!" he pleaded. "And we're sorry we suck so bad." He then proceeded to serenade her with an impromptu song called, "We Suck." If it wasn't the highlight of the night, it was definitely a rare show of humor from an otherwise humorless, unstable artist.

The show crested after that; now we got more guitar noodling, and some safe songs. And I was just getting settled in when Adams announced that the next song was about "Satan and fucking." A thumping version of "Magick" was followed by the end of the show. "Thanks you guys for coming out," and the house lights went up.

I checked my watch: 10:20. Disbelief all around. Surely an encore? Nope. They're taking equipment down onstage. "That's it," my friend said. We headed for the car and listen to folks outside who were visibly seething at the lack of an encore. And I felt the same way; a piano went untouched onstage, almost no songs from Gold, and we got three Neal Casal songs. "I didn't pay to see a Neal Casal show," my friend said, and he dropped me off at home and decided to head to The Pour House to catch Lucero. He'd never seen them before and I tell him that, even if they play the worst show of their life, it's probably still better than the Ryan Adams show we saw.

The Setlist, as I heard it:
Beautiful Sorta
Born Into the Light
Cold Roses
Come Pick Me Up
Everybody Knows
Wonderwall
Neal Casal sings song #1
(brief intermission with house lights while in-ear monitors are fixed)
Fix It
Why Do They Leave?
Neal Casal sings song #2
Goodnight Rose
Shakedown On 9th St
We Suck (impromptu song)
Let It Ride
I See Monsters
Neal Casal sings song #3
Broadway
Mockingbird
Magick

Funniest, yet saddest, conversation overheard at the show:
"Dude, how about him playing Oasis? That was cool, right?"
"Yeah...are you sure that's an Oasis song? You sure it's not one his songs?"
(*note to reader, these two gentlemen were approximately my age, 28-32)
"I don't know man, it could be..."
"I'm pretty sure it is. It's on one of his albums."
"What...you think Oasis covered his song?"
"Yeah, probably. I mean he wrote that song 'Stars Go Blue'..."
"So you think he licensed his song to Oasis?"
"Yeah, definitely."
"That's awesome."

The local paper, Charleston City Paper, has a review that is a little less flattering in it's sentiment and also contains some incorrect information. Read it here.

And here's some shitty cell-phone pics of the stage:




Good luck with the writing career, Mr. Adams. I mean that sincerely.

No Post-Rock for Me

Well, who would have thought that a little old instrumental band from Texas would have sold out a show in little old Charleston, SC? Actually, it makes sense when you consider the fact that they sold out two shows in Atlanta--the second show they scheduled in the middle of the afternoon to accomodate fans (wasn't that nice of them?). Needless to say, I did not have tickets and E and I turned around and went home to watch The Brothers Solomon. Which was funny.

No worries, there's always the NPR podcast of their show at the 9:3o Club in DC available for download here. (Just right click and "Save As" for the file.)

I do have an exciting announcement, however. Last Thursday, Horizon Records in Greenville, SC (one of the best record stores in the country--no, seriously) launched their spiffy new website with a certain writer who shares a name with me appearing on their blog. Yippee! It goes without saying that I am honored and thrilled to be a part of the Horizon Records family, even if it is from afar. Buy something from the site, as that is one of the new perks. And look for more postings from your faithful author soon.

I'm in Waldorf, MD for the next two weeks on business. I'm lonely and on the computer a lot so holla atcha boy if you feelin' me.

What Do You Grow at a Music Farm?

Band of Horses @ Music Farm, Charleston, SC
02.10.2008

I've been waiting for Band of Horses to convince me they were more than just another flashy band on Sub Pop. I thought that that time might never come. I thought I would have to begrudgingly smile and tell people, "Yeah, Band of Horses are great and we're proud they call this state home." I didn't want that to happen, but I was as prepared for it as I was a George W. Bush victory in 2004. Thankfully, Sunday night's show at the Music Farm proved me wrong.

Originally scheduled for the much smaller (i.e., intimate) Village Tavern in Mt. Pleasant, SC, the show was rescheduled for two days earlier (from Tues, Feb 12 to Sunday, Feb 10). But apparently a slot on Conan O'Brien takes precedence over a homecoming show and thus, we all ended up highly confused, standing in lines patiently for doors to open (Where did you buy your tickets from originally? What "Will Call" list are you on? Did you already pay? We don't know if the show is sold out.) No harm, no foul, though--at least they showed up. The band had to cancel two dates in Florida due to flu and Ben Bridwell losing his voice.

I wandered around outside while Tyler Ramsey played Red House Painters-esque tunes. And felt bored shitless while Cass McCombs and the Middle Class plodded through a set that I thought would never end. But by 10:15, when the house lights went out and Bridwell announced to a screaming crowd, "Hey everybody, we're Band of Horses and we're from here!" and the first sleepy lull of "Is There a Ghost" chimed out of his Gibson, followed by a three-guitar, six-man wall of sound, you couldn't have kicked the smile off my face.

I could have left after the first thirty minutes: the aforementioned "Is There a Ghost," followed by "Islands on the Coast," and the aptly titled "The First Song"--still one of the best opening tracks on any album I've bought in five years--was what I came to hear. (Admit it, we all go hoping to hear that one song.) And I screamed, and clapped, and did the white-man rock bounce. And I didn't even want to punch the college frat-fuck next to me for saying that he couldn't wait to hear "that song from 'One Tree Hill.'"(That's "The Funeral" for anyone keeping track at home.)

In truth, the crowd was a bit subdued for the final show on their North American Winter tour; not to mention a show in their hometown. But the band didn't seem to notice. And Bridwell had a smile ripped across his face the whole time like a man who loves music as much as the fans do. And he does, too, from what I can see--playing three covers in a 100 minute set seems excessive, but he did it and didn't care what the rules were. As long as the music was loud and everyone felt good about being together, he felt good about showing it. So, when the encore came and he asked us if we wanted to stick around for two more songs, no one complained--even when they closed out the night with a cover of Chicago's "Feelin' Stronger Everyday." There's a metaphor in there, buried skin-deep, I believe. But there was definitely no irony to it. And that only makes me appreciate their music even more.

Concert photos up on Flickr soon.

The Set List:
Is There a Ghost
Islands on the Coast
The Great Salt Lake
Weed Party
The First Song
Our Swords
Cigarettes Wedding Bands
J.J Cale cover (?)
Part One
Keyboardist played a song that I did not catch the title of
The Funeral
Wicked Gil
Ode to LRC
Act Together (Rolling Stones/Ron Wood cover)

Encore:
Monsters
No One's Gonna Love You
The General Specific
Marry Song
Feelin' Stronger Everyday (Chicago Cover)