Any questions?

Last Saturday I saw Aqueduct at Holocene. It reminded me that a) they put on a kick-ass show I can enjoy even when stressed by other circumstances, and b) that Holocene's a pretty small room. Not much place to hide. I got there a bit after 9, but the "music" started with a DJ. DJs should only play between sets. They should not get their own set. The Online Romance followed. I've seen them once before, and my opinion hasn't changed--damn cute, poppy, a few interesting lyrics, but I'm afraid they wouldn't stand up to much scrutiny. '60's and '70's-influenced boy-girl-boy-girl vox are cute, and make for a good opening band, but would you really want to listen to it over and over? The other opener was Saturday Looks Good to Me. I'd heard of them, but knew nothing about them. They started with a song that sounded like it belonged in the background of a bad movie, being played by the band in a remote country roadhouse, while the hick protagonists slow-dance and fall in love. I wasn't sure how I was going to make it through the set. But by a few songs in, it had morphed into some really awesome twang-punk reminiscent of early Minneapolis sound. Think Soul Asylum with a little Replacements thrown in. And then, of course, Aqueduct, who just tear it up and pull out all the stops for every show. They sound darling on CD. They kick ass live.

Then last night I saw Art Brut and The Hold Steady at the Crystal Ballroom. Finally, in a room with maybe 700 people in it, the joy of solitude. I got there to see a band setting up--oh, crap, is the first band just getting their shit together now? But no, the first band played a really short set and had already finished. I really didn't need to see The Blood Arm. Art Brut is a bit schlocky, fey Brit-punk, kind of Iggy Pop but a bit gayer. The lead singer twirled his mike and even jumped rope with it. The drummer threw his sticks in the air and caught them. But it wasn't just some novelty act--they really did rock. And it was fun to watch the singer jump into the mosh pit and mosh. This band even managed to get the out-of-place-looking aging businessman to jump up and down, moshing all by himself! The guy took stage banter to a crazy extreme, and most of the time he was just shouting, but the first time he said anything between songs, just a couple of songs into the set, he just paused, looked at the audience, and asked, "Any questions?" Classic.

It was kind of an odd crowd overall. Where'd the guy in the cowboy hat and tie-die come from? And where'd he get the dance that managed to combine that all-arms-and-legs jam-band hippie dance, some sort of square dance rhythm, and the elbows of the chicken dance? And--I didn't even think of this--tons of people were in Twins gear. I totally didn't consider the fact that Craig Finn is a huge Twins fan. I should have worn my Twins stuff!

The Hold Steady set was awesome. They only played a couple of songs I know, and stuck mostly to the new disc, and I still loved it. But this is why I don't own all their stuff and know it all by heart. Craig Finn's got this warm, raspy voice. What The Hold Steady have that Lifter Puller didn't is piano (okay, keyboard, but set to "piano"). Every so often, those two things combine to sound like Rod Stewart's Downtown Train. And that kind of kills it for a moment, until it un-meshes and there's good old loud-punk Hold Steady again.

Good Day/Bad Day

A couple of weeks ago, I went to see John Vanderslice at the Doug Fir. I was pretty excited about it for a few reasons. Great show. Terrrrrrible night. Indescribably terrible. Probably enough said. And if anyone reading this had serious car trouble the next day, it may just be that karma's a bitch.

Tonight, I went to see Loch Lomond, Nick Jaina, and Kele Goodwin. It was at a tiny place, I hesitate to even call it a venue, called the Funky Church. They do have a website, but basically I walked into someone's living room. It's an old, tiny former Catholic church where the church itself might have held sixty people if there were pews, but most of it had been turned into a big kitchen, a living room, and a third room that walls had been built around, kind of in the middle. The music performances happened in the balcony, which was open on both sides, more like a loft. Before I realized that people really did seem to actually live there, I sat in the balcony thinking, "I want to live here! And this would be my living room." Near the arched ceiling, with incredibly old hardwood floors, and a perfect view of the stained glass. OLCC clearly isn't involved--it was mostly BYOB, with some bottles of Two-Buck Chuck next to a vase that said "wine $1 suggested".

Kele Goodwin started out. Super-quiet guy and guitar, singing melancholy songs I could kind of relate to. I'm still cynical enough that a lot of the lyrics made me cringe, but it was beautiful stuff for the less-cynical, and a few of his songs really struck a chord with me, too.

Nick Jaina was quieter than usual, but it was perfect for the venue. I could only sing along with a few songs, because he played a ton of new stuff. But so pretty! Weirdly, no Ali, but Nathan was amazing, and even almost adequately subdued for the quieter set! And the bell plates were just perfect in a church.

Followed by Loch Lomond. Lovely details with varying sources. Pretty, celtic-influenced, but less so than last time I saw them a couple of years ago. He's got a really interesting voice. I was in the right mood for the band, but they're maybe a little fancy and pretty for me.