Honey, I Don't Believe This

#5: Hated: GG Allin & the Murder Junkies

(dir. Todd Phillips, 1994; released on DVD, 1997)

Only circumstantially aware of GG Allin and who he was, my main familiarity with his (ahem) work were the tales of theatrical and scatological stage antics and one great song by the Drive-By Truckers, "The Night GG Allin Came to Town" on the just-okay LP Pizza Deliverance.

I never meant to watch Hated, but if you're so inclined you can watch it on Pitchfork TV; it's being shown online as part of the "One Week Only" feature and will be available until Monday, May 5. Watch it here (NSFW!).

I've watched horrible things in my lifetime. I've seen most of Pink Flamingos, enjoyed Man Bites Dog, and highly recommend The Devil's Rejects as authentic campy horror. I didn't mean to watch Hated; I was just checking out Pitchfork TV and it happened to be the first thing that started playing. I can't say I'm glad I watched it, but I don't feel worse for seeing it.

My problem with Allin isn't the onstage defecation, the nudity, the indignancy toward humanity, or even the gross-out factor. Instead I take offense at the lack of a message in his body of work. The music itself is only secondary to his behavior and, in levels of fuckedupedness, drummer Dino ranks a bit higher than Allin. (Watch for him to start babbling in random words about the Lunachicks, yet in his mind he's making perfect sense.)

Instead, Hated takes on a sadly comic tone after the intial shock wears off. GG's brother Merle is as loving a brother as anyone could ask for--when asked about GG's propensity for violence towards others and his claim of committing suicide onstage Merle seems genuinely awkward and upset (even though he is sporting a Hitler-stache). Then there's the GG Allin fan Unk, who essentially boils Allin and his music down to a "hilarious" circus act, nothing more.

There are two scenes that stand out in this genuine mess of a documentary. The first I can't describe because it has to be witnessed for impact. I'll just say it involves a request that GG makes for his birthday that involves human waste and a female companion. But the second scene that captivates is the steady shot of GG playing an acoustic guitar powerfully and belting out an old-fashioned drug-murder-outlaw ballad that would stand tall on any Hank Williams or Johnny Cash album. It is here that one may come to realize that GG created the shell of a cycle that he became trapped in; perhaps his "serious" musical qualities could have been known had he not fallen into the endless pit of audience expectations and a persona he couldn't live up to, but could never live down.

Read about GG Allin's death at Wikipedia here. It's quite interesting.

Read the Drive By Truckers' lyrics to "The Night GG Allin Came to Town" here. You can listen to the song here if you have Rhapsody installed.

You Know You Want It

Go ahead and get your free downloads of the Death Cab for Cutie Daytrotter session at this link. They are well into their 100,000th download.
Bandwidth issues, Daytrotter? Hope not. Thanks for the free tunes.

Sorry Ma, Forgot Irony Was a Dead Scene

Aww, hells yeah. The Replacement re-issues are out, finally and you can bet your penny loafers I'm gonna drop some cash on all of them. The Mats deserve nothing less. Pitchfork has reviews of the first four re-issues (Sorry Ma, Forgot to Take Out the Trash, Stink, Hootenanny, and Let It Be) right here. Guess which one got a perfect 10.0? C'mon, guess.

Also, The Onion AV Club has an interview with Chris Carter. Anybody else besides me find it weird that another X-Files movie is coming out ten years after the shows finale? Wait a minute, who cares? There's another X-Files movie...hell yeah!

The Constantines have a video up for "Hard Feelings" the first track off of their better-than-their-last-album-but-still-not-as-good-as-the-one-before-it album Kensington Heights on their new label Arts and Crafts.




And, finally there's this:


Guess nobody told them this would only be funny for about ten seconds.

STREAM: Weezer, "Pork and Beans"

The Blind Pig

Photos are up from the Man Man show at the Village Tavern that I was at on March 7. I think they are some of my better photos--mostly because I used a flash and had some decent equipment. Follow this link to see them.

I'll be back in town this Friday from Waldorf, MD. Monday, April 28 I'll be at The Tin Roof taking pics of Athens, GA's The Winter Sounds.
I love this band and you should too. I'll post the interview I did with singer/bassist Patrick Kennan about a year ago for the now-defunct free weekly The Beat.

Thanks much to You Ain't No Picasso who has posted a free download of the entire Man Man show at The Blind Pig in Michigan. Good sound quality, too! Follow this link for all the goodness.
Note that the files are in M4A format, so get out your converters or drop them into iTunes.

Additionally, Sixeyes (have I mentioned how much I love this guy?) has reposted a free Radiohead concert, Live from BBC Radio. As the man says, get 'em while they're hot. Again, amazing sound quality. Here's the link to the goodness.

On Record Store Day I bought the new Helio Sequence album, but haven't had a chance to listen to it, yet. There's something about Maryland that makes one lethargic against all the things we should love. (They're playing the Village Tavern on May 30.) And I managed to snag a copy of Bob Marley, Legend and The Stone Roses, The Complete Stone Roses on the $1 table. I put Nirvana, Unplugged back, though now I wish I hadn't. I've got a fever for some grunge lately.

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.

Local Edition

Check out the poster for Kulture Klash 2, April 19 a week from this Saturday. I like it.

The official description of Kulture Klash is as follows:

"Kulture Klash 2 - Event highlights the local, eclectic, and innovative creative minds in the Charleston area. A new feature this go ‘round is a week-long exhibit of all the artwork that has been installed for the event. Exhibit runs April 19-25. Sat., April 19, 7 p.m.-12 a.m."

It's in the area where the old Navy base used to be, an area that is slated for major overhaul and redevelopment.

Additionally, @ The Music Farm this Saturday I get to see EITS.

But first I got to get through the garage sale I'm having Saturday...

And sadly, I won't be able to attend Fluke this year. And that makes me sad because it's always a splendid good time. But be sure to go if you can and check out my boys at Wide Awake Press.
They are the coolest cats in the mini-comics game. Just check out this poster:


Like I said, the coolest. I'll see you guys at Heroes Con.

Much love to my G-ville peeps. Holla.

I'm Impressed

Oh, I want to hate Pitchfork. That's the hipster method of cool--but hasn't Pitchfork gone from cool to uncool back to cool and then to "who cares?"

But I have to love them when they do something this good.

Catch The Pixies doc before it disappears by next week. And I'm stoked about music videos on demand.

And so I say welcome and thanks, Pitchfork. Fuck off MTV.

Speechlessness Is Underrated

Couldn't make this up if I tried...

Any possible explanation to why this happened?

More Ghosts, Etc.

Magnolia Electric Co.—Fading Trails (Secretly Canadian, 2006)

Glossary—For What I Don’t Become (Undertow Music, 2006)

Jason Molina, the central figure behind Songs: Ohia and Magnolia Electric Co. might be trying to write enough songs to create his own blues tradition. I mention the word ‘blues’ in a loose and interpretative way—Molina is not a bluesman but he is obsessed with the effect that the blues have on contemporary society and (to quote C.G. Jung) modern man in search of a soul. Most of his compositions deal directly with recurring themes of contemporary displacement; ghosts haunt men, love splits hearts in two, wolves are on the attack, and music is the only light in the darkness. Molina scours the horizons and the grimy highways of the American landscape in both his music and his troubadour lifestyle (the man is constantly on tour either alone or with his band). But the roadblock that he’s continually running up against is that even if his introspection is better than most, his music is still lagging behind him trying to thumb a ride.

MECo.’s last album, What Comes After the Blues, was a disappointing follow-up to a triumphant debut. Songs: Ohia’s final album was actually MECo.’s first; though it was titled Magnolia Electric Co. it was the first incarnation of Molina’s band. Molina could have been a Goliath in the music scene if he had maintained some sort of consistency. Unfortunately, Fading Trails is just more proof of how much he’s fallen from grace.

At nine songs, (one more than the last album) there’s a lot of empty disc space to cover. But the album is filled with too many atonal piano chords, single guitar strums, and echo-laden vocals. “Don’t Fade on Me” and “Lonesome Valley,” the first and third tracks respectively, are where you’re going to get your money. Both are reminiscent of the full band onslaught that Molina has proven he’s so adept at and both are near the front of the album giving the listener a false sense of hope for a return to form. “Montgomery,” a slapdash track that comes in at under two minutes, demonstrates with better efficiency the ‘less-is-more’ aesthetic that takes hold of the latter half of the album. Beginning around song five, the painful piano twinkled “The Old Horizon,” we get to hear the self-indulgent whimsies of songs with no backbone—and no backing band. By the time you get to the end, the whispery “Steady Now,” if you’re not already asleep it’s just because you’re in awe that you’ve come so far with little to no reward. On “A Little At a Time,” Molina asks us imploringly, “you can’t lose it all at once, can you really?” Instead of waiting for a reply, he answers his own question—“’cause brother I’ve been trying.”

Meanwhile, on the other side of the road, a quintet from Murfreesboro, TN is picking the bones on the highway that Molina is tossing out and making them whole again. It might be a bit of a misnomer to associate Glossary with MECo. because the former sound more like they’ve picked up the extinguished torch that Whiskeytown dropped oh-so-many years ago and set it ablaze with new fervor.

As young as they seem, I get the feeling that these guys don’t fake their world weariness—a feeling I sometimes gather from MECo. A quick glance at their MySpace page tells you that their influences are “day jobs and student loans.” Damn right. The songs are more electric on this, their sophomore LP. Glossary’s previous LP, the superb How We Handle Our Midnights, held a few moments of quiet acoustic introspection but not so this go ‘round. Songs like “Shaking Like a Flame,” “Poor Boy,” and “Devils In the Details” come out ready to remind the listener that sometimes you need to plug in and make an electric noise to keep the darkness away.

Glossary’s songs are, like MECo.’s, a push against death and a rallying cry to enjoy life in the midst of all its misery. Even though on “Shaking Like a Flame,” we are “surrounding by rows and rows of the same house/stretched out under the sky/ like a cemetery that waits for you to die,” it’s encouraging to remember that, on “American Bruises,” we’re reminded that “bruises only last/long enough for the pain to pass.” Yeah, life sucks, especially in an era of fear-mongering, twisted rhetoric, and a general lack of intelligence and regard for human life, but rather than wallow in it, Glossary want us to find the brilliance in the simple routines of life, whether it be a good night’s sleep or remembering that life is short. Do yourself a favor, pick up both of Glossary’s albums, have a drink, and enjoy today. Tomorrow you can let the ghosts of Molina and Co. back in.

Everything Old is New Again

Three is the magic number for items to read today:

1. The Village Voice reviews Kurt Vonnegut's posthumous collection, "Armageddon in Retrospect."Read it here.

2. Salon's music critic Kevin Berger manages to describe all the wanderings of Dan Bejar's band Destroyer in elegant detail. But what's up with calling him Daniel Bejar? Too pretentious for me.

3. Did you know the music industry is changing? Please tell me we're not going to give Jack White credit for it. Regardless, music critic Ann Powers of the LA Times seems self-aware of the fleeting role of critics in the digital age.

And what's this...Matt at You Ain't No Picasso thinks he can take better pictures of Man Man than me?! I challenge him to a Man Man picture-off!
But first, I should upload my own Man Man pictures at my Flickr account...

Almost No One Makes It Out

Glossary @ SXSW 2007, Magnolia Electric Co promo photo for "Fading Trails"
Thought I would take a post to plug two of my favorite bands; one you've probably heard of, one maybe not. Either way both bands are offering free downloads at their website and are well worth the hard drive space.

Glossary are a band from Murfreesboro, TN and their latest album "The Better Angels of Our Nature" is available for free download. Yep, the entire album is available in both FLAC and 320 kpbs mp3. For fans of Lucero, Drive By Truckers, Cory Branan, and Anders Parker. Follow this link. Spread the word if you like it.

Magnolia Electric Co is the incarnation of Songs: Ohia's Jason Molina. Some of their albums are hit and miss, but they have an entire Live Show Archive on their website to download in FLAC. Follow this link.

The files are large, so I recommend downloading one song at a time--unless you're on a T1. Then click away.
I recommend this page to download a FLAC decoder.

I Got the Mixin's that Ya'll Need

Quick roundup of things musical/political (musio-political or poly-musical?). Anyways, let's display the findings of note for the past two days of surfin' the interwebs:

-Read William Bowers' review of the new Destroyer album Trouble in Dreams at Pitchfork. This man is one of the best writers I've encountered in a long time. I'm basing that bold statement on an article he wrote for The Oxford American called "All We Read is Freaks." It's about teaching English at a community college in Florida. Order the issue here and marvel.

-Medialoper has a two part brief history of R.E.M. that reminds me why I still love them so. New Adventures in Hi-Fi is where it's at; Reveal was completely underrated and forgotten, but still worth it.

-The Chronicle of Higher Education has an all-too-brief story about a seven year old who got sued by the RIAA. Read about the event here.

-I like the new cover for Death Cab for Cutie's new album Narrow Stairs. I do not like the album title.

-Fighting the urge to get the new Counting Crows album, Saturday Nights and Sunday Mornings. This interview with frontman Adam Duritz didn't help. What do you think? I feel like I'm over the Counting Crows phase, but I keep coming back. Help.

-And then there's this. I have no idea what to say.
-And finally there's this...

Novelists Strike Fails To Affect Nation Whatsoever

'Nuff said.

Ask a Policman on the Street

# 4--Across the Universe
Dir. Julie Taymor, 2007

(I'm counting this one towards my 100 music documentaries. Deal with it.)

When I first saw the previews for Across the Universe all-those-many-months ago, I had an initial knee-jerk reaction to the ultra sentimentality that the preview conveyed--why can't people just leave The Beatles the fuck alone? Mind you, this was some months prior to the release of the Cirque du Soleil inspired album Love to which I had the same reaction. However, Across the Universe looked rife with silliness: Bono with a stupid mustache singing “I Am the Walrus” into a moving camera; Evan Rachel Wood looking blasé while singing “Blackbird;” some unknown shaggy Brit sitting by the ocean singing the first lines of “Girl.” I brightened slightly seeing Taymor’s name attached to the project (Frida was phenomenal and Titus may be one of my favorite films of the past decade).

Fast forward to Sunday night, watching Across the Universe in the living room and thinking the same thing as before—why can’t people just leave The Beatles the fuck alone?

Believe me; I struggled to sit through the entire movie. I nearly gave up at the scene in the veteran’s hospital with the dancing priest while “Happiness Is a Warm Gun” played. Not to mention the Vietnam scenes which were just laughable. For the viewer, somehow there was supposed to be a forced connection between the main protagonist (aptly named Jude) and the brother of his love (her name is Lucy, his Max) as he marches through Vietnamese mud fields while strawberries drop all around him and Jude has an artistic breakthrough involving the same fruit. (For bonus points, guess what song this scene is set to? Hint: It’s “Strawberry Fields Forever.”)

Just so, the previous example is exactly how heavy-handed the film is. It’s a wonder it didn’t fold inward under its own pretentiousness. There’s no room for subtlety here; just ridiculous amounts of Beatles’ references and a hackneyed plot: boy loves girl, girl loves boy, girl and boy torn apart by anti-war protests until they both realize…come on, guess…all you need is love. The plot could not be more flimsy. Additionally, one gets the sense that the plot was only secondary to the music. In fact, it’s almost as if someone listened to a bunch of Beatles songs and devised a plot from them by mixing their order. How uninspired; the antithesis of everything the Beatles were and are.

Only when the film is at its most excruciating does it frontload the Beatle-isms. When a lesbian named Prudence locks herself in the bathroom (incidentally that’s the window she came in through, Max notes) the cast (lead by Sadie) sings “Dear Prudence” to cheer her up. Fuck me. Seriously? Then during the big breakup scene where Jude and Lucy are torn apart by Lucy’s radical ideals of anti-war and hippie freedom, Jude angrily sings “Revolution” at her acting out the lines as he goes—when he sings the Chairman Mao line, guess whose picture he points to? Just guess.

I could go on, but I can’t go on. It’s so bad it made me roll me eyes during the film and now as I write this. The best part, oddly enough, was Bono in his cowboy hat and strange drawl and Eddie Izzard as the Dr. Geary in an intentionally fucked-up rendition of “Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite.” We don’t need Taymor’s movie to remind or instruct us that The Beatles provided a universal soundtrack to more than one generation. We know that by the way the music seeps into our ears and permeates our brains, as parents pass it down to children and so forth.

It would be one thing if Across the Universe was only intended to be homage to John, Paul, George, and Ringo, but it’s not. It’s meant to be a definitive piece of film that somehow sums up our collective love for The Beatles and their influence of the history or our lives. And, as a piece such as that, it fails to sum up anything other than ridiculousness at how sometimes we are willing to exploit The Beatles for our own indulgence.

Back to the Cave from Whence We Came

Man Man, The Village Tavern, Mt Pleasant, SC - March 7, 2008

Behind my back and during several conversations with respected friends, I have heard whispers of the group called Man Man. I never knew who or what they were, let alone what their music sounded like. A few years ago, before I was a Charleston native, I spotted them on the calendar at The Village Tavern and told a pseudo-friend/colleague of mine. His reaction bordered on spastic and made me a bit uncomfortable and nervous in our cramped office quarters.

I suppose his reaction has always resided somewhere in my subconscious and etched a mental note to perhaps see Man Man one day, but preferably to pick up one of their albums. The mental note went untended and, in truth, I trekked to Mt Pleasant to see openers The Felice Brothers more than anything (whom I missed that afternoon at a Monster Music instore performance...long story, don't ask). I caught the last quarter of The Felice Brothers’ last song and pushed my way to damn-near the front of the small VT stage unaware that I may never be the same again.

The Felice Brothers left the stage and the gear just kept coming out onto the stage as if from a magical door. First a xylophone. Then a bullhorn. Next a gong. And…a fire hydrant? They look like normal guys, I thought—perhaps a bit too much like ex-druggies who go on to become Unitarian youth ministers—but normal enough. Then they disappeared. And they reappeared, wearing all white from head to toe and white face paint in random thumb-splotches. And then they began. And I couldn’t stop moving. The sold-out crowd was throbbing and pushing me along in time to songs I had never heard. I couldn’t stop yelling out responses to the singer’s calls. Where had they been all my life? Mind you, I've been to high-energy hardcore shows where I've lifted crowd surfers up and thrown random individuals up on stage only to have them backflip into the crowd. But this was different. This was...fun. And I didn't feel like I might have to start throwing punches to get the guy beside to give me an extra inch of breathing space.

I can’t speak about Man Man’s music, having only heard it for the first time that night. A friend of mine whom I inadvertently ran into at the show described it as “pirate-carnival-death music.” I can see that. But I heard some waltz, blues, polka, and metal thrown in and then beaten to a puree with a spiked mallet. If I purchase one of their albums now (their new LP Rabbit Habits is out April 8 on Anti- Records) I think it would be a bit of a let down. But only a let down because there is no way to ever faithfully recreate what Man Man is—how alive they are—in a concert setting. You know how some shows just feel routine, like there are motions set up for you and expectations that might be met? This is quite possibly one of those shows that ruins all others for me. Don’t ever miss a chance to see them live. Raise your freak flag with them unashamedly and salute their new breed of sound—so intense it can't be described, but so disastrous in its ability to amaze.

ABBA Is Everyone's Favorite Band

Eager to beat the dead horse that is the music industry down some more, The Raconteurs have decided to announced the release of their new album, Consolers of the Lonely, one full week before it comes out in a multitude of formats for all types of listeners (including vinyl). Their reasoning and the official press release is here via Stereogum. Nice idea, hopefully the music will live up to the hype. The last record was only just okay--and by okay I mean very derivative with a few nice tracks.

I have been posting a lot about Matt Pond PA...I mean The Dark Leaves. Yep. Apparently that will be MPPA's new moniker.

Sun Kil Moon is streaming their new album, April, at their MySpace page. Fantastic, so far. While you're biding your time waiting for the official release date of April on ummm...April 1, you should get The Retribution Gospel Choir.

Part 2 of the Wilco show at the Riveria is up for download at Sixeyes via this link. Have I mentioned just how much I love this blog? Well, I do. Subscribe to it here. You won't be sorry.

Here's interesting and (gasp!) well-written article from Medialoper. It's about The Clash. And music. That's cool, I guess. If you're into that sort of thing.

And finally, in reference to this post's title, this is just sad. Via con dios, Ola Brunkert. Via con dios, sir.

Some mp3 links:
Rilo Kiley--Let My Love Open the Door (Pete Townsend cover)
Thanks, You Ain't No Picasso.

Matador Intended Play sampler, 2008
Thanks, Matador Records.

Music for Video Games Vol. 1
Haven't heard this, yet. But Sufjan Steven's is on it, so what the hell.
Thanks, Asthmatic Kitty.

Man Man pics and a show review on Friday. Some pics from a Richard Buckner show from this past July at the Village Tavern are up on my Flickr site now. They're not very good but they get the job done. Here's one:

This Phony Beatlemania Has Written Its Course

A few links of interest and then it's on to Destroyer...old(er) Destroyer, mind you. After the links is a review of Destroyer's previous album that originally saw print in The Beat (RIP). I've got Man Man photos from their Village Tavern show and a review coming by Friday. Those guys were unreal; my mind was sufficiently blown.

Trent Reznor may be on to something here... Guess I never really thought of it that way, but he makes a valid point. Go your free download of Nine Inch Nail's Ghosts 1-9 here.

SXSW is streaming like nobody's business at NPR. None of the concerts are up for download, but I strongly recommend their live concert podcast.

Get a giant zip file of 1/2 of a Wilco show over at Sixeyes--consistently one of the best blogs for free music and mp3 of the legal variety.

That's all. Now go get Trouble In Dreams from anywhere but iTunes.

Destroyer—Destroyer’s Rubies (Merge Records, 2006)

Dan Bejar has always been the brainchild behind Destroyer, and while I’ve never cared for his previous releases, his work in the supergroup The New Pornographers has always made he question why he can’t create a Jackie Dressed in Cobras (one of the best songs on The New Pornographer’s Twin Cinema) without the help of his supergroup cohorts.

Well, to make up for lost time, Bejar and his new band members in Destroyer have created an album full of intelligent pop that hasn’t left my ears for weeks. Putting what Destroyer does into words is difficult, but the songs have major structure and guitar hooks from hell. And the lyrics, while puzzling at time, serve to enhance the song when necessary and let it be when needed.

The nine minute opener Rubies displays alternating shifts between acoustic strumming and picking and an electric guitar takeover. And even though the chorus consists of little more than Bejar singing, “la da da da da, da da da dum” the song never wears you out as you might expect it to. To counterbalance the chorus, however, are great lines like, “Don’t worry about her/ she’s been know to appreciate/ the elegance of an empty room” and “please don’t wake me/ from this my golden slumber/ I am proud to be a part of this number.” If I didn’t know better I’d say that Bejar was cueing his listeners in to his comfort level; a clearly reflected element in these relaxed and focused songs.

Tracks like 3000 Flowers and Painter in Your Pocket feel like some of the most well-designed songs I’ve heard: they’re elegant in their simplicity, but layered in their meaning. And I love to hear a man write lines that amount to modern poetry—“Where did you get that line?/ Where did you get that rook?/ Where did you get that penchant for destruction in the way you talk?. The only slump is the Neil Young-esque guitar blues on the last track Sick Priest Learns to Live Forever.

There are constant themes throughout the record that I have yet to decipher. For example, blood, oils, priests, and “your blues” (the title of Destroyer’s previous release) come up repeatedly. One could take Destroyer’s Rubies as a concept album, but of what, has to be left up to the listener. And modernist lyrics like, I was Clytemnestra on a good day, can puzzle those not versed in mythology. But one thing that shouldn’t be left up to listeners is the delicacy and greatness of this, Destroyer's finest moment.

A Predicate Warning to the Sun

It took some time but I've finally uploaded about 20 images from the Matt Pond PA show at The Map Room on Flickr. Check them out here.

Make a comment and tell me what you think; I shot these on better equipment than I'm used to.

As for today, here's a link to a follow-up from Charleston City Paper's little music experiment with The Post and Courier's Preview pullout section in Sunday's paper. See Friday's post for the first part of the story.

As for the rest of the week, Destroyer's Trouble In Dreams comes out tomorrow. Stream it here, courtesy of Merge Records.
And other folks are talking about She & Him, Volume One--the new release from Zooey Deschanel and M. Ward. Stream it here, courtesy of Merge Records, though I couldn't be less enthused about some indie starlet's foray into music. Remember this announcement? Stick to what you know kids, I don't care how hot you are onscreen.

A review of the new Destroyer will be up on Wednesday--that's right, I wait and buy my music the day it comes out like a good like capitalist.

Ride the Feedback

Short one today, mostly because I forgot to post the setlist from the MPPA show on yesterday's post. Here it is:

last song
last light
from debris
honestly
so much trouble
several arrows later
the crush
people have a way
wild girl
giving it all away
sunlight
lily 2

encore:
the summer is coming
taught to look away
halloween

encore 2:
new hampshire

And, I've got to say, this link is funnier than hell if you enjoy the big, corporate-owned newspapers ending up with egg on their face. Thanks, Charleston City Paper for sticking it to them.

And, tonight at the North Charleston Coliseum...Anne Murray!
Sorry folks...it's sold out.

Cutting Corners with Our Faces

Matt Pond PA @ The Map Room, Charleston, SC (March 4, 2008)





















There are a few bands that garner more than four CD-sized slots on my music rack. And those slots are usually occupied by “classic” artists (Neil Young, The Beatles, U2) and a few less-than-a decade-old bands (The Pernice Brothers, Modest Mouse, Ryan Adams). Matt Pond PA falls into the latter category, though I often find it difficult to remember why I own six discs (four full lengths and two EPs) of their/his music; that is, until I break one out on long car ride or breathe in deep, wintry air and feel like I must listen to one of his songs. Now.

That MPPA are deeply and almost comprehensively associated with weather, seasons, holidays, etc. is an element that listeners and fans have no doubt come to observe and, most likely, appreciate. It’s fitting then that MPPA’s first trip to Charleston in seven years would come at a time when we were anticipating a violent burst of severe weather. Tornadoes and hail were loudly called for by the weatherpersons; none of it materialized, except for some occasional bursts of wind and a few brief cloud bursts. Nonetheless, with the elements working against us and a heavily anticipated Tuesday night primary in Texas and Ohio, I did not expect a big crowd at The Map Room.

I was totally and utterly wrong.

A crowd of at least 150 packed the stage area and the surrounding bar. (Doesn’t sound like a lot of folks, I know, but The Map Room is not what one would call large.) Fortunately, I managed to aimlessly wander to the front of the stage during tuning/soundcheck and then, as if by surprise, the band started to play. I felt a push against my back and turned to see four, thick rows of people paraded behind me.

The set relied heavily on the latest release, Last Light. Definitely not one of MPPA’s better albums, mostly because it sound as if Matt Pond decided to try to make a half-hearted rock record—a task that does not really fit into his band’s sound. The cello got ditched for this record and for this tour, but the songs still held enough thrust and melody without it to stand on their own. And anyone who's a fan will tell you that MPPA have songs whose melodies and lyrics rattle in your brain for weeks, months, and, for some, years. And everyone has a favorite song—that one song—that makes the daytime that much more bearable and the nighttime that much more glorious.

The momentum of the evening would build and swell with exceptional songs like, “So Much Trouble” and “People Have a Way,” and then crash way down with songs like “Wild Girl” and “New Hampshire.” Matt Pond does not look comfortable onstage, and his dreamy-nature-boy aloofness may be endearing to the ladies, but comes off as painful to some. “Here is a song,” he would say sheepishly before a few numbers. And inevitably someone would holler out a request for some obscure songs off of Measure or The Nature of Maps.

The night felt surreal with the bruising wind outside rattling the windows, Barack Obama slowly losing Texas and Ohio, and the drunk girl beside who kept yelling for “Grave’s Disease” (another obscure song from Emblems). And I felt like someone gave me a shot in the arm after the show ended, but the people refused to leave. “Guys, it’s a Tuesday night and the hurricane is coming,” Matt Pond joked after coming out for a second encore. But no one listened. Some folks had waited seven years for MPPA to come back to this city and they might not be around in another seven years to see them again.

“Thanks for coming!” someone screamed as NBC declared Ohio for Clinton. “Now play ‘Fairlee!”

“Play what you want!” a girl yelled from the back.

I’m with her, I thought. I can always have a new favorite song for tonight.

Damien Jurado - "Texas to Ohio" (mp3)

Saturday Night's Alright...For Being Alone

The weekend was spent in the comfort of my home, mostly due to the fact that I locked my keys in my car Friday morning at work. With no way to get in until Monday, I hunkered down and did what any late-twenty-something would do on a Saturday night in a bustling town: painted my guest room.

The soundtrack of our nights:

Ryan Adams--Rock n' Roll

...still just a genuine throwaway CD. I was really only in the mood to hear "So Alive" and "Note to Self: Don't Die."

Various Mix CD

...compiled by Fletch in 2003. Lots of emo, the irresistable kind; especially from a band called, Believe In Toledo. (Now defunct?)

Braid--Frame & Canvas

...is it wrong to call it emo? Doesn't feel like it. This album might crack my Top Ten. The first three songs are flawless.

Modest Mouse--We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank

...completely overlooked in my opinion. It received above-mediocre reviews mostly, I believe, due to the fact that critics only focused on the fact that Johnny Marr was now a part of the band. Isaac Brock's songwriting on this one was the gem, though. Don't believe me? Listen to "Missed the Boat" and "Parting of the Sensory."

Silversun Pickups--Carnavas
...summed up best by Nick Frost as "the band that Smashing Pumpkins could have been, if the Pumpkins didn't suck."

The Thermals--The Body, The Blood, The Machine

...stayed on my player all last summer. Still a solid album and great freakin' songwriting (e.g., "I regret leaving my mind/I forgot I needed it to think/and maybe to keep me alive/can't believe I got so far with a head so empty")

Never made it to:

Constantines--S/T

...but I plan on rectifying that siutation today. In the meantime, looking forward to the new Constantines, Kensington Heights. (Those boys look like extras from The Lost Boys in that picture, don't they?) Here's an mp3 link courtesy of Sixeyes.

Link for today:

Test your music IQ. 30 questions, and it's a lot of fun. Although what's scary is how accurate the descriptions of the your music personality are. I'm a Mix Tape DJ--what the hell are you?

Love Comes Like a Kennedy Curse

Back from the Matt Pond PA show at The Map Room on Tuesday night. The "storm of the century" as E called it didn't amount to anything--no tornadoes or severe lightning or anything. Quick update on areas of interest on this here interwebs:

...And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead have a session up at Daytrotter for download.

Pitchfork has photos up of the recent Bill Calahan/Johathan Meiburg show at the Village Tavern. I don't know who Drew Katchen is, but apparently he was at the Village Tavern on 2/29 taking photos. I missed the show, but plan on tracking this guy down.

I just discovered JunkMedia; looks like a cool site.

And the award for concert-in-an-amphitheater-that-I-would-go-to-and-then-leave-before the-main-act goes to...Jack Johson with special guests Rogue Wave and Neil Halstead! I know Rogue Wave released Asleep at Heaven's Gate on Jack Johnson's label...but where did they pick up Neil Halstead from? I do recommend "Sleeping On Roads," though.

The Silver Jews are emerging from whatever hole they live in to release a new album, (title here). And their second-ever tour is to follow. The album features Pernice Brother's guitarist Peyton Pinkerton.

Sixeyes has a new mp3 from the Notwist's new album; their first in 6 years since Neon Golden (a fine record).

If I cared I would mention that you can stream Tapes 'n Tapes LP, but their last LP was crappy and for some reason critics went ape-shit over it. And by the time this posts, you can't listen to the streaming album anyway, so nevermind.

Man Man and The Felice Brothers play at the Village Tavern tomorrow night. The Felice Brothers play an in-store at Monster Music beforehand. Apparently they're good.

Dave Eggers is giving a public reading at the Brooks Center, Friday, March 7 at 7:30. It's free and it's part of the Clemson University Literary Festival. Apologies to Woody b/c I can't be there.

That's all. Pix from the Matt Pond PA show and a review coming either tomorrow or Monday.

A Secret Knock

Here's an older review I wrote that never saw print. Citified are an amazing band from Greensboro, NC. They've got a new CD/EP, "The Meeting After the Meeting," out March 25 on Eskimo Kiss Records. Pre-order it now at the record label's site and pick up their first self-titled album while you're at it.

Citified – S/T
Eskimo Kiss Records, 2005
Capturing the sound of distance and disparity isn’t an easy task, especially when it comes to music. A few artists have managed to do so accurately within the last decade or so, but those tend to be the ones that bounce through our heads after we’ve fallen asleep. Most recently, Sun Kil Moon perfected the sound of distance (something The Red House Painters had been trying to do for years) with their sprawling-yet-intimate “Ghosts of the Great Highway.” Before that, there were about a dozen or so bands with the ability to convey intimacy through songwriting and music combined. I believe it’s safe to say that R.E.M.’s “Murmur” claims that stake without much competition.
Taking their lessons from these great bands, Greensboro, North Carolina’s Citified has made a convincing case to be placed among the ranks with their self-titled album. Filled with evocative vocals and hollowed out guitar sounds, Citified has created an album that could pass as the soundtrack to both Christmas and summer—a quality that makes it listenable at all stages of the day, pre-dawn to post-midnight.
There’s enough reverb here to satisfy your midnight loneliness, and enough punch to keep you in steady motion while walking. But the strength of Citified lies in the functionality of the album as a whole. Coming in just under 19 minutes, there’s no room for filler, there’s just a short trip of an album that will get you wherever you need to be in a day’s time—twice.
While I can imagine other listeners being put off by the relatively short nature of the record, the more you listen to it, the more you realize how much the length benefits the subject matter. Distance—a key theme to the record as evidenced through titles (“Overseas,” “Going Places,” and “Stopping the Clock”)—is best conveyed in repeated short bursts like day trips or stop lights, because that’s when it’s most apparent to our minds and ears. As such, multiple listens are not only recommended, but required, because what Citified has managed to do is eliminate all of the excess of rock/indie rock and focus in on the experience and continuity of listening—a trait that somehow goes overlooked in most bloated, 13-14 song, albums.
Chris Jackson’s vocals and mysterious lyrics keep the songs afloat, and when he steps away from the mic, a single, jangly guitar line—often just two or three notes—picks up right where he left off. For example, “Secret Knock” is lifted to a whole new level by eventual fade of Jackson’s vocals and lyrics, and a breakdown that culminates in a picked acoustic guitar and a tenor cry. “Going Places” has the best accentuated two note guitar lick I’ve heard in a long time, not to mention the most haunting melody of all the songs on the album.
Citified’s album cover shows an extreme close-up of buildings and skyscrapers in an exaggerated, silver-age comic book color format. It reminds me of Seurat’s pointillism, and the theory that accompanies it: up close the picture appears blurred and spotted, but the farther one moves away from it, the clearer the picture becomes.
By placing distance into their music, but remembering that the whole is greater than the individual parts, Citified have accomplished with incredible accuracy what many artists fail to do: create a solid album that is both evocative and indicative of the landscapes within the listener’s own mind.

From the upcoming EP, "The Meeting After the Meeting:"
Citified - Read Like a Number - mp3

This Heaven Gives Me Migraine

Weekend Rituals
Does everyone clean their house and go for a walk on Sundays, or is it just me?
There's something about Gang of Four's Entertainment! that demands movement. I pass others out walking their dogs or jogging with their swank armbands and their crystalline white earbuds and wonder, "What the hell could they be listening to?" In my head everyone is listening to wretched, awful schlock like 3 Doors Down (who just happen to be playing at the N. Charleston Coliseum soon) or Nickelback. How do I know what they're listening to?

I don't. But there's something in my head that tells me they don't crave listening to the abrasive, slightly atonal snaps of Gang of Four. I don't imagine others digging the apocalyptic imagery of Entertainment! (See that girl on the TV dressed in a bikini/she doesn' think so/ but she's dressed for the H bomb) while breathing in fresh air of the marsh land. But me, I can't get enough. Thanks to Dewage for turning me on to them.

Keep It Like a Secret made it onto the turntable for two reasons: 1) it's close to being one of my favorite albums (yes, of all time) and, 2) I'm bummed because I'm going to miss another chance to see them live. They're playing at the Neighborhood Theatre in Charlotte, NC next Monday, March 10 and then The Orange Peel the next day, Tuesday, March 11. The feasibility of driving 3.5 hours to and from Charlotte on a Monday night just does not sit well with me. And now I'm afraid they'll never come close to me again (have they ever played anywhere in South Carolina? Not to my knowledge). The new BTS vinyl reissues are well-worth the price, though. All come with at least one bonus track.

Music purchased today:
The Mountain Goats--Heretic Pride
Headlights--Some Racing, Some Stopping
The Evangelicals--Evening Descends
Breathe Owl Breathe--Glacier EP
Halou-Sawtooth EP

matt pond PA play tomorrow night at The Map Room. I'll be the one taking pictures.

The Man's On the Guest List

Drive-By Truckers
Brighter Than Creation's Dark
New West Records, 2008

Before purchasing the latest Drive-By Truckers album, Brighter Than Creation’s Dark, I consulted the guru of all things mud, blood, and beer: “So, brother o’ mine, should I pay American greenbacks for a physical copy of one Drive-By Truckers CD? Or should I download it (legally, of course) and enjoy it without the restrictive mp3 format?"

“Oh,” he says to me, “you should definitely get it. But I must warn you, it’s a country album. It’s no The Dirty South.”

I laugh heartily, suddenly aware that I do not own ANY physical DBT CDs—all that I have has been ripped from said brother.
“And,” he continues, “there’s this weird song in the middle that sounds like a John Prine ripoff.”

The song he is referring to is “Bob,” a Mike Cooley composition that, at the moment, is one of my favorite songs on the album. It does sound like a John Prine ripoff, but the character of Bob is an endearing one: he’s not “light in the loafers” and he always keeps his momma’s yard “just like she wants it.” Still, it’s not the low-key country-tinged sound that might have turned me off from BTCD, but rather the hole in the band that should have occurred with the departure of Jason Isbell, one of the three genius songwriters behind the band for nine years.

The band fills up the space with songs by Shonna Tucker (Isbell’s ex-wife and DBT bassist). For the most part, they’re passable and keep the album moving (“I’m Sorry Huston” is the best of the lot). But at 19 songs and 74 minutes, you immediately begin to think about what should have ended up on the chopping block.

Fortunately, that’s the album’s strength. I can’t come up with one song—not ONE—that I would like to eliminate. Sure there’s filler, but DBT’s filler is better than most band’s radio singles. It’s abrasive to hear back-to-back Cooley songs when you’re used to an Isbell number in-between and while Cooley is a master of narrative and wordplay (“chicken wing puke licks the candy apple red off his corvette”), Patterson Hood is the one who finally cracks everything wide this go-round. Songs like “The Opening Act,” “The Righteous Path,” and “That Man I Shot” are the ones that matter here. They matter because they have more than just rock and balls—they have substance and adrenalin. Sweet, fist-pumping adrenalin. Hood can swing from a snarl to a yawp like he does on “Goode’s Field Road” or serenade you with his John Ford homage “The Monument Valley.”

Of course, everything else is damn near perfect as well. And I’m slowly beginning to emulate Brad Morgan’s drumming style with his booming floor tom and lack of ride cymbal. But DBT are one of those bands built for longevity, no matter what incarnation they come in. It may be tempting to pay fleeting attention to their new release but we owe it to this band to stick with them—they would never give us less than everything they had. And right now their music sounds an awful like American music—if such an untainted thing exists—should sound: long, loud, and still sweet.

Video--"That Man I Shot (Live)" (Thanks, Stereogum)

Mobius Band is for Lovers

One of my new discoveries in late 07 (thanks to Stereogum and their OK Computer Tribute album, OKX) was Brooklyn's own Mobius Band. I was fortunate enough to see them down the street at The Map Room in December on a Monday night (the place was near deserted).

Check them out for free: they're offering a free Valentine's Day download EP of six cover songs (big props for covering Neil Young and Daft Punk). And get their new album Heaven on the always-classy Misra Records.

And, just as with Band of Horses and so many other bands, I have photos of the concert that have yet to be posted on Flickr. One day I'll catch up...

Happy V-Day, folks.

From Here We Go Deaf

Reportedly, EITS are going on self-imposed hiatus after this tour. Download a live concert here, courtesy of the good folks at NPR.

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)

Well, Is There A Ghost?

Heading down to the revamped Music Farm in lovely downtown Charleston tomorrow night for the final night of Band of Horses Winter tour. Originally the show was planned for The Village Tavern in Mt. Pleasant, SC (the new home of the band after nine years in Seattle). I am looking forward to it even though I only liked about half of their first album, Everything All the Time.

The new album, Cease to Begin, however is a much more solid, relaxed effort in my opinion. Where before I felt like the band was trying much too hard to call upon the spirits of Built to Spill and out-reverb My Morning Jacket, now I hear less influence and more of a band growing into their skin.

The moment the album sunk its hooks into me was coming home from Baltimore this past October and riding on the Metro in the early morning, watching folks scramble to get to church while others just slept off hangovers from the night before. It felt like there was a ghost over everyone, in every place I moved.

I'll have pics from the show to post later. Cheers, guys. Thanks for coming back to SC.