"I was walking around feeling satisfied. Can you imagine that? Then she cuts me loose. I don't know why. She won't tell me. Who knows the real reason? Maybe it's because of her father, I don't know. She won't talk to me. She won't even look at me."
--Lloyd Dobbler
Okay, I've been an emotional train wreck lately. I'm unemployed, I was broken up with this week, I've been in the blackest funk imaginable. I made myself go to this show for something to do, something to get myself out of the house. Nire, The Online Romance, and Sexton Blake at the Doug Fir.
I get there, and there's a wedding reception going on on the patio of the Jupiter Hotel (the same property that also contains the DF). Not a good sign, in my mind. But I head on in. I'm determined to have some fun.
I walk in just in time to hear Nire say, "Thanks, everyone, The Online Romance is up next!" I think that's the second time that's all I've heard from them. Oh well. Stupid parking...not only is there the show, and the wedding, but get this: Vanilla Ice is playing a creepy club down the block called Outlaws. Seriously. Vanilla Ice. The crowd standing in line for that place was indescribably, skin-crawlingly gross. Where do you get clothes like that, Hicks 'n' Prostitutes 'R' Us? So my intention to catch 15 minutes of the opening band was supplanted by 15 minutes of looking for parking.
The last thing I'm up for tonight is starting out by waiting through a set change. I went to get a beer, largely to convince myself to stay. But it gives me some time to watch the crowd. I begin to play a game with myself, picking out the people who came from the wedding (even if they'd stopped up to their room at the Jupiter and changed) as opposed to people who came because they knew they wanted to see the bands. Large group sitting at one of the few tables introducing each other and talking about their teaching careers: Wedding. Dancing Girl with the Excessively Aquiline Nose: Wedding. Four unfortunately sexily-dressed 50-year-olds in the corner: Wedding. Girls with big purses and skirts, shoulders in, wide-eyed, looking around nervously: Wedding.
So after that uplifting little game of cynicism and schadenfreude (is it schadenfreude if they don't even know how unfortunate they are?), The Online Romance started. It's not a good band name. It makes one think of My Chemical Romance. You immediately expect falsely dark adolescent emo. But no! It was stellar, Barsuk-ready, guilelessly referential perky and charming indie-pop. Earnest, non-ironic, bouncy, the perfect indie band circa 2007. It was a 5-piece band with an odd stage setup. The drummer sat in front, with the four other members behind him. The drummer was the only one who didn't sing. Not just boy-girl harmonies, but boy-girl-boy-girl harmonies. They started with just the keyboardist and a vocalist on stage, she backed him up and he sang about never falling in love with you again...and then falling in love with you again. In my pathetically emotionally vulnerable state, it made me want to vomit...but that beautiful, perfect '70's soft-rock combination of keyboards and falsetto...it was amazing! Fine, I'll stick around until I finish my beer. From then on, they had all five members on stage. Usually I find a band that shares lead vox duties among many members to be disjointed and incohesive, but this band had a remarkably consistent sound despite the changes in voice. And many songs had no particular lead vocalist, but passed them around or engaged in four-part bits that never, ever sounded like a barbershop quartet. Along with the '70's lite crooning, they used '60's pop conventions for their own purposes as skillfully as Elvis Costello. And I noticed during this set that the sticker that indicates that one has backstage privileges was a Tillamook cheese label! Near the end of their set, The Online Romance covered Toto's Hold The Line (...love isn't always on time...). And I smiled. I needed a good smile.
Sexton Blake headlined the night. Every time I've seen them they've been a different band entirely. There's the pop song Emma, on PDX Pop Now! 2004, that is so perfect I put it on a compilation for my mom (yeah, my 57-year-old mom loves her some good, clean indie-pop). There was the time I saw them live, with four or five people onstage, and they were an experimental '80's-themed electronic band in matching vests. There was that other time I saw them, and they were a three-or-four-person super-loud noise band (also, I believe, in some sort of uniform). The preview I read for the show indicated that SB is really the brain child of just one guy, and it's a great loud indie-pop outfit, and he just put out a disc called Sexton Blake...Plays the Hits! In which he covers a shitload of mediocre '80's pop songs, and does so miraculously. I hoped for the latter.
I got the latter. Two skinny guys in t-shirts bent over a pile of keyboards, a drum set, a Rickenbacher guitar (squee!), an acoustic guitar, a Fisher-Price toy keyboard-xylophone toy (used for Emma), and a harmonium. Playing terrific, danceable indie-pop that usually had an electronic beep-bloop vibe, but sometimes was just strummed guitar. Rather than the dressed-to-match polish of previous shows, they ended most songs in what seemed like the middle, like they just kind of ran out of song. They were humble, adorable, and happy. In past shows, the lead guy seemed to be the mop-top guy, but this time the guy who looks like my next-door-neighbor did all the talking, so I don't know which one guy is the "one man band" referenced in the weekly. They played Emma, which I haven't heard live (and that's where the toy key-xylo came in). And they played three songs from ...Plays the Hits! The first was Rod Stewart's Young Turks (Young hearts be free tonight! Time is on your side!). Such a crappy song. Such a transcendent cover. I may be the world's worst sucker for cross-genre covers, but for the first time tonight, perhaps for the first time in days, I smiled. Grinned, really. The Twins managed to score 32 runs in a doubleheader the day before, but that really didn't lift me out of my murk, but a completely unwarranted Rod Stewart cover? Better than drugs. (I have to give some serious credit to the Toto cover, though, for softening me up considerably). Sexton Blake also covered Bruce Springsteen's Hungry Heart and (oh my god...no way) Kim Carnes' Bette Davis Eyes, a song I actually really loved as a kid.
After the show, I asked the guy who seemed to be the lead this time about his hat. "Is that an old-school Pittsburgh Pirates hat?" "I dunno...I just got it at a thrift store. I decided it's P for Portland." I was disappointed, but not crushed. It's hard to be crushed when buoyed by Toto and Bette Davis Eyes.
Sunday, July 08, 2007
Friday, March 30, 2007
Sheesh, where've I been?
I swear, I have been out seeing music. It's been a busy...gosh, has it been 9 months? The Boyfriend moved in, and he and I then moved to a new place, I finished and defended the big paper, all sorts of busy-ness. So I haven't had time to write. But I'm back now, and you'll forgive me, right?
The last month or two has been pretty quiet for shows, but it seems spring has sprung, and bands are celebrating by getting out into dark, windowless basements late at night! Last night I saw Nick Jaina at Mississippi Studios. I've been to MS twice now, both times to see Nick. It's a bit too grown-up a venue for me, with chairs set out in rows and earnest folkies strumming guitars onstage.
Openers: Douglas someone? Someone Douglas? Hushed, fingerpicking folk songs with some....zzzzzzzzz. Oh, sorry. Molly Rose: A young barista, big-eyed hipster-waif, who drove down from Seattle to sing strummy folk songs about death and crushes and, uh, I guess I stopped paying attention after a while. I liked one song okay. The Boyfriend asked me why I like some indie folk, like Horsefeathers and Iron and Wine, but not acts like these. So I spent much of my time during these two sets mentally debating what the difference is between good, engaging indie-folk and coffee-shop-in-a-Borders-Books folk. I didn't come up with an answer, but at least it gave me something to do while waiting for Nick to start. (Verdict: Both opening acts were 15% the former, 85% the latter).
Nick J: Seven people crammed onto the tiny stage. A pump organ. These weird things called bell plates. Nathan the violinist was mostly pushed offstage into the audience. It was a comparatively introspective set from Nick, and he pulled out two songs he had written years ago and hasn't played since (including one that was a dead ringer for a lost Dylan song). He also had two new ones! A few rollicking tunes (can't help it when Nathan's singing along, like on Battleground), but overall a bit quieter and more serious than usual. Oh, and a hilarious monologue about having discovered American Idol. Absolutely awesome.
The last month or two has been pretty quiet for shows, but it seems spring has sprung, and bands are celebrating by getting out into dark, windowless basements late at night! Last night I saw Nick Jaina at Mississippi Studios. I've been to MS twice now, both times to see Nick. It's a bit too grown-up a venue for me, with chairs set out in rows and earnest folkies strumming guitars onstage.
Openers: Douglas someone? Someone Douglas? Hushed, fingerpicking folk songs with some....zzzzzzzzz. Oh, sorry. Molly Rose: A young barista, big-eyed hipster-waif, who drove down from Seattle to sing strummy folk songs about death and crushes and, uh, I guess I stopped paying attention after a while. I liked one song okay. The Boyfriend asked me why I like some indie folk, like Horsefeathers and Iron and Wine, but not acts like these. So I spent much of my time during these two sets mentally debating what the difference is between good, engaging indie-folk and coffee-shop-in-a-Borders-Books folk. I didn't come up with an answer, but at least it gave me something to do while waiting for Nick to start. (Verdict: Both opening acts were 15% the former, 85% the latter).
Nick J: Seven people crammed onto the tiny stage. A pump organ. These weird things called bell plates. Nathan the violinist was mostly pushed offstage into the audience. It was a comparatively introspective set from Nick, and he pulled out two songs he had written years ago and hasn't played since (including one that was a dead ringer for a lost Dylan song). He also had two new ones! A few rollicking tunes (can't help it when Nathan's singing along, like on Battleground), but overall a bit quieter and more serious than usual. Oh, and a hilarious monologue about having discovered American Idol. Absolutely awesome.
Monday, June 26, 2006
Catching up, slowly.
Again, here I am behind in my reviews. Saturday the 17th, I saw Built to Spill at the Crystal Ballroom! I got there for half of the Prids' set. They were loud. They played rock music. Meh.
Next up, Brett Netson. A member of BtS, I expected good things. Boy, was I wrong. '70's soporific medievalist meandering aimless hippie jam crap. 3 "songs", 45 minutes. But during that otherwise wasted time, I spent a lot of time observing the band. The guitarist reminded me of frightwig (who can be found at a blog entitled sundappled wood), only old and balding. But it was the vibraphonist who I couldn't stop watching. Like a train wreck. I've never seen anyone who so obviously has an eating disorder. From where I was sitting, I had so little perspective I couldn't tell you how tall she was, but I'm gonna estimate 5'6". And she couldn't have weighed 75 pounds. The hollow face, the sunken chest, the convex upper arms, the shoulder blades and spine and scapulae...just looking at her was so sad and frightening. I might look like that if I lost 45 pounds. Maybe. I don't understand how she could be on tour with two bandmates and two other bands, and no one thinks, "she's sick, she won't make it. She needs to be in the hospital." That really rattled me.
Then, finally, BtS. The visuals behind them really captured my attention. And you know how I feel about that kind of thing. It always makes me wonder, "Why do you feel you need to distract me from the music?" But BtS wasn't hiding behind cool visuals. The images, ranging from cartoony to Joan Miro, were kinda fascinating and didn't take anything away from the performance. It was a great show, not too jam-bandy (Nick asked me, "You went to see Built to Spill? Aren't they... (nose wrinkled in subtle distaste) ...kind of a jam band???" Sheesh, some people's histories skip entire decades.), absorbing and intense. Unlike that one time I saw them in Charlottesville, they didn't end the show with Freebird, but those guys put on a great live show every time.
I've seen a zillion other shows, so more to come, I hope...
Next up, Brett Netson. A member of BtS, I expected good things. Boy, was I wrong. '70's soporific medievalist meandering aimless hippie jam crap. 3 "songs", 45 minutes. But during that otherwise wasted time, I spent a lot of time observing the band. The guitarist reminded me of frightwig (who can be found at a blog entitled sundappled wood), only old and balding. But it was the vibraphonist who I couldn't stop watching. Like a train wreck. I've never seen anyone who so obviously has an eating disorder. From where I was sitting, I had so little perspective I couldn't tell you how tall she was, but I'm gonna estimate 5'6". And she couldn't have weighed 75 pounds. The hollow face, the sunken chest, the convex upper arms, the shoulder blades and spine and scapulae...just looking at her was so sad and frightening. I might look like that if I lost 45 pounds. Maybe. I don't understand how she could be on tour with two bandmates and two other bands, and no one thinks, "she's sick, she won't make it. She needs to be in the hospital." That really rattled me.
Then, finally, BtS. The visuals behind them really captured my attention. And you know how I feel about that kind of thing. It always makes me wonder, "Why do you feel you need to distract me from the music?" But BtS wasn't hiding behind cool visuals. The images, ranging from cartoony to Joan Miro, were kinda fascinating and didn't take anything away from the performance. It was a great show, not too jam-bandy (Nick asked me, "You went to see Built to Spill? Aren't they... (nose wrinkled in subtle distaste) ...kind of a jam band???" Sheesh, some people's histories skip entire decades.), absorbing and intense. Unlike that one time I saw them in Charlottesville, they didn't end the show with Freebird, but those guys put on a great live show every time.
I've seen a zillion other shows, so more to come, I hope...
Sunday, June 04, 2006
I'm so behind!
I have so many reviews to catch up on. It's been a busy week.
First off, Jamie Lidell, Copy, and...hmmm...someone else, at Holocene. Crap, I hate it when I get so far behind I forget who I saw. I had a good friend visiting me, and I promised to get him out to see a show or two. I remember that the first band was "okay, it's electronica." Copy, too, was electronica. I expected to recognize the song on the PDX Pop Now! compilation, at least, but no. Maybe he didn't play it. But it all kinda sounded alike, long blurry swirling whatever, no vocals, just a guy and his keytar. Jamie Lidell: This man's insane. Sometimes that's fun. A blues-influenced screaming Brit in a satin smoking jacket.
Now, I'm going to attempt to review Sasquatch. I fully expect to fail.
The first day, we saw more weather than music. Thunder, lightning, 45 minutes of hail. People made hailmen. Thankfully, we found an indoor sanctuary and didn't get too wet. When we first got there, the sun was shining, Iron and Wine was playing, god was in his heaven and all was right with the world. It was a long, long drive, and we missed some stuff I wanted to see, including Sufjan Stevens, Rogue Wave, and Architecture in Helsinki. I think I saw Band of Horses and liked them, until the hail chased them off the stage. I ended up buying their CD, and it's pretty damn good. Lovely, fuzzy, intense, sort of on a My Morning Jacket - Arcade Fire axis. Neko Case got hailed out entirely. From then on, the main stage was behind. The Tragically Hip were interesting and totally internally consistent. The Shins were pretty great--much poppier, rockier, and more hyper than I expected, given what I've heard. I should buy some Shins. Then, a long wait. The side stages had long been shut down. And after all that wait, it was announced that Ben Harper would play first, and then the Flaming Lips. Oh, fer crying out loud. Ben Harper's stoner neo-hippie played-out jam band crap never belonged on this bill in the first place, and now I'd have to sit through that to hear the Flaming Lips? And I'm frickin' freezing. Shit. I've got a cozy little cabin waiting for me in Soap Lake, I'm tired, and I just don't have the patience to sit through Ben Harper, even for the Flaming Lips. So we left.
Sunday was so much better. So. Much. Better. After corn dogs in Ephrata, we got there in time to hear most of the Nada Surf set. They really rocked it, reminding me that the dimensions of an artist's music that get emphasized in a recording are often not the aspects that come through best live. Kick ass. We missed Pretty Girls Make Graves, and that's another band I still need to see. We wandered off and saw some okay stuff at the third stage, then some of the Arctic Monkeys set on the main stage. They were fun rock. That is all. Next up: The Decemberists. Strangely, my first intro to them was at Sasquatch in 2004. My review then: "What the fuck is with all the accordion?" Clearly, I've developed a much finer ear for them since. What an amazing show. Colin Meloy just teases the audience, shushing them or drawing them out at will. He's such a performer. It inspired me to buy Her Majesty The Decemberists, the only disc I didn't own. For the record, the friend with me was equally impressed. Strangely, as I spent the drive playing the Decemberists for my friend, ensuring he was adequately prepared for the show, Colin seemed to be listening in. He spent the first half of the show carefully mimicking the playlist from the drive from our cabin. To the 3rd stage for Rocky Votolato. Cute & hip-folky. Over to the second stage for some We Are Scientists (they Rock (tm). 's about it.) A few songs from Matisyahu (I hate reggae, and I'm pretty picky about hiphop...sure, a Hassidic Jew claiming these art forms is novel, but it doesn't make it sound any better), then back to stage 2 for some Damien Jurado. I know the man's a lovely songwriter, but by this time in the weekend, he was barely background music. Sorry, Damien, next time. I promise. A bit of Clap Your Hands Say Yeah (cute and energetic, trying to rock hard), Then back to the main stage for DCFC. Though he often speaks to the crowd, Ben Gibbard seemed to almost have taken a page from the Decemberists' playbook in the way he turned the show into a dialogue. And they rock so hard live. Every ballad and sweet pop number develops a driving beat and a vocal attack that make it sound brand new. Finally, Beck. He played his songs. There were puppets of the band playing the songs, projected behind the stage. My friend really didn't know a lot of the music over the weekend, and said some really objective, insightful things. About Beck: "It was like he didn't care that the audience was there." Stupid scientology. We left early. And we did, eventually, find the car, despite my picking it out from a distance, then deciding it wasn't, actually, my car. But I double-checked! And it was.
And now it's Saturday again. To Acme! Super, wonderful news: When Acme renovated recently, they also made the main space non-smoking! Towne Lounge and Dante's, you're the only holdouts. Get with the program. Sure, Acme's got an open back wall leading to the smoking patio, but it's so much better than it was. So much better. Due to the lingering effects of the Rose Festival Starlight Parade, I got there much later than I intended, and missed Hello Damascus, whom I remember liking once before. Next up was a band that called itself THONG. I was wary. They were actually a lovely, folky, occasionally alt-country six-piece that didn't all fit on the Acme stage. Guitar/male vocals, viola/female vocals (can I have *her* job?), bass/male backing vox, pedal steel, keyboards I couldn't hear, and drums. If the new trend is to sound like Iron and Wine, I'm all for it. Pretty, quiet, with the occasional twang. Stellar harmonies and strings. And occasional trumpet. Last up: Pentecost Hotel. Four-piece (male vox, guitar, drums, bass) that blew me away. Jangly rocky guitars, jagged strained vocals, driving yet playful, I'm hoping they've recorded something and I can find it.
Whew! And now I'm sleepy, from reviewing all these bands and from seeing them play. Until next time.
--OMS
First off, Jamie Lidell, Copy, and...hmmm...someone else, at Holocene. Crap, I hate it when I get so far behind I forget who I saw. I had a good friend visiting me, and I promised to get him out to see a show or two. I remember that the first band was "okay, it's electronica." Copy, too, was electronica. I expected to recognize the song on the PDX Pop Now! compilation, at least, but no. Maybe he didn't play it. But it all kinda sounded alike, long blurry swirling whatever, no vocals, just a guy and his keytar. Jamie Lidell: This man's insane. Sometimes that's fun. A blues-influenced screaming Brit in a satin smoking jacket.
Now, I'm going to attempt to review Sasquatch. I fully expect to fail.
The first day, we saw more weather than music. Thunder, lightning, 45 minutes of hail. People made hailmen. Thankfully, we found an indoor sanctuary and didn't get too wet. When we first got there, the sun was shining, Iron and Wine was playing, god was in his heaven and all was right with the world. It was a long, long drive, and we missed some stuff I wanted to see, including Sufjan Stevens, Rogue Wave, and Architecture in Helsinki. I think I saw Band of Horses and liked them, until the hail chased them off the stage. I ended up buying their CD, and it's pretty damn good. Lovely, fuzzy, intense, sort of on a My Morning Jacket - Arcade Fire axis. Neko Case got hailed out entirely. From then on, the main stage was behind. The Tragically Hip were interesting and totally internally consistent. The Shins were pretty great--much poppier, rockier, and more hyper than I expected, given what I've heard. I should buy some Shins. Then, a long wait. The side stages had long been shut down. And after all that wait, it was announced that Ben Harper would play first, and then the Flaming Lips. Oh, fer crying out loud. Ben Harper's stoner neo-hippie played-out jam band crap never belonged on this bill in the first place, and now I'd have to sit through that to hear the Flaming Lips? And I'm frickin' freezing. Shit. I've got a cozy little cabin waiting for me in Soap Lake, I'm tired, and I just don't have the patience to sit through Ben Harper, even for the Flaming Lips. So we left.
Sunday was so much better. So. Much. Better. After corn dogs in Ephrata, we got there in time to hear most of the Nada Surf set. They really rocked it, reminding me that the dimensions of an artist's music that get emphasized in a recording are often not the aspects that come through best live. Kick ass. We missed Pretty Girls Make Graves, and that's another band I still need to see. We wandered off and saw some okay stuff at the third stage, then some of the Arctic Monkeys set on the main stage. They were fun rock. That is all. Next up: The Decemberists. Strangely, my first intro to them was at Sasquatch in 2004. My review then: "What the fuck is with all the accordion?" Clearly, I've developed a much finer ear for them since. What an amazing show. Colin Meloy just teases the audience, shushing them or drawing them out at will. He's such a performer. It inspired me to buy Her Majesty The Decemberists, the only disc I didn't own. For the record, the friend with me was equally impressed. Strangely, as I spent the drive playing the Decemberists for my friend, ensuring he was adequately prepared for the show, Colin seemed to be listening in. He spent the first half of the show carefully mimicking the playlist from the drive from our cabin. To the 3rd stage for Rocky Votolato. Cute & hip-folky. Over to the second stage for some We Are Scientists (they Rock (tm). 's about it.) A few songs from Matisyahu (I hate reggae, and I'm pretty picky about hiphop...sure, a Hassidic Jew claiming these art forms is novel, but it doesn't make it sound any better), then back to stage 2 for some Damien Jurado. I know the man's a lovely songwriter, but by this time in the weekend, he was barely background music. Sorry, Damien, next time. I promise. A bit of Clap Your Hands Say Yeah (cute and energetic, trying to rock hard), Then back to the main stage for DCFC. Though he often speaks to the crowd, Ben Gibbard seemed to almost have taken a page from the Decemberists' playbook in the way he turned the show into a dialogue. And they rock so hard live. Every ballad and sweet pop number develops a driving beat and a vocal attack that make it sound brand new. Finally, Beck. He played his songs. There were puppets of the band playing the songs, projected behind the stage. My friend really didn't know a lot of the music over the weekend, and said some really objective, insightful things. About Beck: "It was like he didn't care that the audience was there." Stupid scientology. We left early. And we did, eventually, find the car, despite my picking it out from a distance, then deciding it wasn't, actually, my car. But I double-checked! And it was.
And now it's Saturday again. To Acme! Super, wonderful news: When Acme renovated recently, they also made the main space non-smoking! Towne Lounge and Dante's, you're the only holdouts. Get with the program. Sure, Acme's got an open back wall leading to the smoking patio, but it's so much better than it was. So much better. Due to the lingering effects of the Rose Festival Starlight Parade, I got there much later than I intended, and missed Hello Damascus, whom I remember liking once before. Next up was a band that called itself THONG. I was wary. They were actually a lovely, folky, occasionally alt-country six-piece that didn't all fit on the Acme stage. Guitar/male vocals, viola/female vocals (can I have *her* job?), bass/male backing vox, pedal steel, keyboards I couldn't hear, and drums. If the new trend is to sound like Iron and Wine, I'm all for it. Pretty, quiet, with the occasional twang. Stellar harmonies and strings. And occasional trumpet. Last up: Pentecost Hotel. Four-piece (male vox, guitar, drums, bass) that blew me away. Jangly rocky guitars, jagged strained vocals, driving yet playful, I'm hoping they've recorded something and I can find it.
Whew! And now I'm sleepy, from reviewing all these bands and from seeing them play. Until next time.
--OMS
Sunday, May 14, 2006
all over the map
It's been quite the weekend, music-wise. And it's barely even sunday.
Friday night, I was ridiculously tired. I went out for dinner because I was too tired to cook. I had a beer with dinner. In the state I was in, that one beer made me a bit loopy. I thought to myself, "I keep hearing about Caves. Maybe I should go see them? I'm sooooo tired. But I could drink coffee, and then I'd be awake enough to listen to bands, right?" Um...sorta. I missed Jonah. I got there in time for the start of Oslo's set. Had they done this sound first, they'd be huge. Giant. Stadium shows, screaming fans, the whole bit. As it is, they were just loud enough to fill a stadium, but in the Doug Fir. They sounded just like one of those Rock Revival bands. The Killers? The Bravery? Whatever. They were certainly good, and had I not been so tired I would have enjoyed them on an entirely superficial level. There are certainly people I think would love them. People I know, even.
Next up: Caves. I'd read a few good reviews, heard the name a number of times, decided it was finally time to seek them out. I'd heard "dark, swirling indie" about them. Sounds lovely. In actuality, it was...uh...okay? But again, I was SO tired. I sat through most of the set thinking, "I wonder if I like this band?" They sure didn't look it, but if I closed my eyes, it had a distinct "goth lite" flavor, like Wish-era Cure. Rockin' out, but doing it darkly. Verdict: If they were to play a show with Swords, I bet I'd love 'em. But I'd love 'em even more if they keyed their volume to the size of the room and the crowd.
Saturday: All sorts of fun at the Doug Fir (again). Started out with Bright Red Paper. Only caught the last song and a half. Despite the dumb name, they're not Adult Alternative but a driving-yet-psychedelic foursome of drums, two guitars, and cello. They may be instrumental--by the time I got a beer and settled in to listen, I hadn't noticed any vocals. Worth checking out again--part pretty-indie, part guitar-wank. I hope, overall, they lean former, not latter.
Next up, Ape Shape. Led by someone-in-the-portland-music-scene, better known as the leader of whatever-band-that-was. I don't remember right this second. A seven-piece! Guitar/male vox, female vox/'80's dance moves, bass, drums, trombone, sax, and trumpet. It was kinda...uh, sorta sounded a little like...well, you know, reminded me...huh...yeah, not quite a...Fine. I'll just come right out and say it. With the horn section, the guitar rhythms, the way the two voices didn't meld well, they sounded rather like a ska band. Honestly, to me, part of Portland's charm is its lack of ska bands. I kept trying to imagine it without the horns, to see if the ska thing was accidental, but I wasn't succeeding. Some songs were less ska-like than others.
Last up, Cloud Cult, from Minneapolis. What I'd read about them was interesting. A (ugh) "sustainable music collective" that didn't have a label, yet had shot up the indie/college charts. "Avant chamber-pop" that had a cello. And two painters. You may remember how I feel about bands that feel the need for extra visual art: What are you compensating for? Is the music not good enough? But also interesting: I remember the cellist from my high school orchestra. Well, they launched into their set, and I was immediately in love. A four-piece (if you don't count the painters, which I don't): Male vocal/guitar/occasional keyboard, 5-string bass, cellist/female backing vocql, and drums/male backing vocal. Then there were two painters and two different projected cycles of found images on stage. They can all go. The music speaks for itself. First impression: Flaming Lips. Later impressions: Is that a Neil Young bit? Huh...this one song sucks, sounds like crappy adult alternative...shit. Except adult alternative doesn't launch into a total rock-out that flattens me. Those harmonies...Crosby, Stills, and Nash? Well, that was fleeting. Now the 5-string bass is churning out hardcore metal. Oooh...pretty! And yet it didn't seem at all disjointed. I'd like to hear more from this band, figure out what they sound like in the studio, integrate some of the disparities. I was impressed.
Finally, this weekend I received a 3-cd mix set of all-'80's nostalgia. And as you turn up your nose and think, "I'd never listen to that crap," I'll list some of the tracks. Not a clinker in the bunch, and all obscure-cool or forgotten or in some way unexpected. The La's - There She Goes. Robyn Hitchcock & the Egyptians - Flesh #1. The The - This is the Day. The Mighty Lemon Drops, Mojo Nixon, Grandmaster Flash, The Art of Noise, The Cocteau Twins. Kate Bush - Running Up That Hill. Style Council, Jellybean, Stacy frickin' Q, Lisa Lisa and the Cult Jam (seriously!), Dead or Alive. Real Life - Send Me an Angel. Alphaville - Big in Japan. Icehouse, Wham!, New Order, Front 242, Meat Beat Manifesto, Ministry, Siouxie and the Banshees. Thank you, Nick Danger, and your slightly-earlier-than-mine, slightly-cooler-than-mine high school existence.
Friday night, I was ridiculously tired. I went out for dinner because I was too tired to cook. I had a beer with dinner. In the state I was in, that one beer made me a bit loopy. I thought to myself, "I keep hearing about Caves. Maybe I should go see them? I'm sooooo tired. But I could drink coffee, and then I'd be awake enough to listen to bands, right?" Um...sorta. I missed Jonah. I got there in time for the start of Oslo's set. Had they done this sound first, they'd be huge. Giant. Stadium shows, screaming fans, the whole bit. As it is, they were just loud enough to fill a stadium, but in the Doug Fir. They sounded just like one of those Rock Revival bands. The Killers? The Bravery? Whatever. They were certainly good, and had I not been so tired I would have enjoyed them on an entirely superficial level. There are certainly people I think would love them. People I know, even.
Next up: Caves. I'd read a few good reviews, heard the name a number of times, decided it was finally time to seek them out. I'd heard "dark, swirling indie" about them. Sounds lovely. In actuality, it was...uh...okay? But again, I was SO tired. I sat through most of the set thinking, "I wonder if I like this band?" They sure didn't look it, but if I closed my eyes, it had a distinct "goth lite" flavor, like Wish-era Cure. Rockin' out, but doing it darkly. Verdict: If they were to play a show with Swords, I bet I'd love 'em. But I'd love 'em even more if they keyed their volume to the size of the room and the crowd.
Saturday: All sorts of fun at the Doug Fir (again). Started out with Bright Red Paper. Only caught the last song and a half. Despite the dumb name, they're not Adult Alternative but a driving-yet-psychedelic foursome of drums, two guitars, and cello. They may be instrumental--by the time I got a beer and settled in to listen, I hadn't noticed any vocals. Worth checking out again--part pretty-indie, part guitar-wank. I hope, overall, they lean former, not latter.
Next up, Ape Shape. Led by someone-in-the-portland-music-scene, better known as the leader of whatever-band-that-was. I don't remember right this second. A seven-piece! Guitar/male vox, female vox/'80's dance moves, bass, drums, trombone, sax, and trumpet. It was kinda...uh, sorta sounded a little like...well, you know, reminded me...huh...yeah, not quite a...Fine. I'll just come right out and say it. With the horn section, the guitar rhythms, the way the two voices didn't meld well, they sounded rather like a ska band. Honestly, to me, part of Portland's charm is its lack of ska bands. I kept trying to imagine it without the horns, to see if the ska thing was accidental, but I wasn't succeeding. Some songs were less ska-like than others.
Last up, Cloud Cult, from Minneapolis. What I'd read about them was interesting. A (ugh) "sustainable music collective" that didn't have a label, yet had shot up the indie/college charts. "Avant chamber-pop" that had a cello. And two painters. You may remember how I feel about bands that feel the need for extra visual art: What are you compensating for? Is the music not good enough? But also interesting: I remember the cellist from my high school orchestra. Well, they launched into their set, and I was immediately in love. A four-piece (if you don't count the painters, which I don't): Male vocal/guitar/occasional keyboard, 5-string bass, cellist/female backing vocql, and drums/male backing vocal. Then there were two painters and two different projected cycles of found images on stage. They can all go. The music speaks for itself. First impression: Flaming Lips. Later impressions: Is that a Neil Young bit? Huh...this one song sucks, sounds like crappy adult alternative...shit. Except adult alternative doesn't launch into a total rock-out that flattens me. Those harmonies...Crosby, Stills, and Nash? Well, that was fleeting. Now the 5-string bass is churning out hardcore metal. Oooh...pretty! And yet it didn't seem at all disjointed. I'd like to hear more from this band, figure out what they sound like in the studio, integrate some of the disparities. I was impressed.
Finally, this weekend I received a 3-cd mix set of all-'80's nostalgia. And as you turn up your nose and think, "I'd never listen to that crap," I'll list some of the tracks. Not a clinker in the bunch, and all obscure-cool or forgotten or in some way unexpected. The La's - There She Goes. Robyn Hitchcock & the Egyptians - Flesh #1. The The - This is the Day. The Mighty Lemon Drops, Mojo Nixon, Grandmaster Flash, The Art of Noise, The Cocteau Twins. Kate Bush - Running Up That Hill. Style Council, Jellybean, Stacy frickin' Q, Lisa Lisa and the Cult Jam (seriously!), Dead or Alive. Real Life - Send Me an Angel. Alphaville - Big in Japan. Icehouse, Wham!, New Order, Front 242, Meat Beat Manifesto, Ministry, Siouxie and the Banshees. Thank you, Nick Danger, and your slightly-earlier-than-mine, slightly-cooler-than-mine high school existence.
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
I promised what??!?
Okay, that's right. Never to hide anything from you again. So here goes:
I haven't been to a show in nine days. My name is OMS, and I'm...ready to get the hell out of my apartment.
Tonight was a free Binary Dolls show at Dante's. But first I had to sit through two other bands. First, Super Plus. I have to admit, there's not much I find funnier than women dressed as drag queens. How much more meta-meta-whatever can you get? And I loves me some meta-meta. So the fact that, among the six of them, they could barely play any instruments or sing anything, despite the four microphones, was almost forgivable. Almost...but not quite. Honestly, they sucked, and didn't make up for it with humor or chutzpah like they intended to. The Aerosmith cover was either obscure or so crappy as to be unrecognizable, and the Neil Young cover just sucked. The rest of it was girls without melody or rhythm, or even coherence, but with costumes galore. Lots of knee-high stiletto boots, two (maybe even three) pretty impressive wigs, and three girls who I'm sure read fantasy-romance in their spare time, but like playing dress-up in the band. Next up: The Crosswalks. Keep at it, guys! Good but not great, almost-interesting but not special, all this trio needs is to figure out who their voice is and where they want to put the exciting moments. It's a Band With Potential (BWP). Perky indie-pop guitar, bouncy-yet-tom-heavy drums...you're almost there. Almost.
Binary Dolls. Oh, I love this band. Tonight they ditched the subtlety for outright kickassness.
Every song was zero-to-sixty with nothing in between. Raucous, wild, amazing. Too short. But they totally read their venue and played to it. Mmmmm....love. Love this band.
I haven't been to a show in nine days. My name is OMS, and I'm...ready to get the hell out of my apartment.
Tonight was a free Binary Dolls show at Dante's. But first I had to sit through two other bands. First, Super Plus. I have to admit, there's not much I find funnier than women dressed as drag queens. How much more meta-meta-whatever can you get? And I loves me some meta-meta. So the fact that, among the six of them, they could barely play any instruments or sing anything, despite the four microphones, was almost forgivable. Almost...but not quite. Honestly, they sucked, and didn't make up for it with humor or chutzpah like they intended to. The Aerosmith cover was either obscure or so crappy as to be unrecognizable, and the Neil Young cover just sucked. The rest of it was girls without melody or rhythm, or even coherence, but with costumes galore. Lots of knee-high stiletto boots, two (maybe even three) pretty impressive wigs, and three girls who I'm sure read fantasy-romance in their spare time, but like playing dress-up in the band. Next up: The Crosswalks. Keep at it, guys! Good but not great, almost-interesting but not special, all this trio needs is to figure out who their voice is and where they want to put the exciting moments. It's a Band With Potential (BWP). Perky indie-pop guitar, bouncy-yet-tom-heavy drums...you're almost there. Almost.
Binary Dolls. Oh, I love this band. Tonight they ditched the subtlety for outright kickassness.
Every song was zero-to-sixty with nothing in between. Raucous, wild, amazing. Too short. But they totally read their venue and played to it. Mmmmm....love. Love this band.
Monday, May 01, 2006
confession
Is it weird that I fear posting my reviews here because I'm afraid someone will read them? Let me rephrase that: How weird is it that I'm afraid to post at my own blog? I have this terrible fear that I'll review some band, or I'll relate some conversation, and someone with a basic working knowledge of google will discover it, and will somehow connect it with me. Not me, OMS (tm), but the real, actual me that went to the show, and could be identified by what I was wearing, or where I was standing, or whether I spilled only a little beer on myself, or a lot of beer. So that's the crux of it, really. I'm not so much afraid someone will read my opinion. Even an opinion about the person reading it. I'm afraid of losing my anonymity.
At the risk of giving away state secrets, I've seen several shows recently that I haven't reviewed here. Last weekend I saw Small Sails (barely), Binary Dolls, and Helio Sequence. This weekend I saw, over the course of two shows, Point Juncture WA (twice), Super XX Man, Norfolk & Western, and Alan Singley & Pants Machine.
The short version (in the order listed above): Missed the music so no opinion but stuff-projected-behind-the-stage always makes me wonder what they're covering up; never the same and mathematically improbably always above median--they rocked; where does the invisible bass player stand and why so prog-rock?; always lovely and stellar with vibraphone (twice), pretty and whispered but I imagined there was some interpersonal tension on stage; move further from "pretty and...uh....pretty" toward "shit, they rock!" every time I see them and they had a violin and a viola; and silly, wild, and playful but they've got to have some serious talent to keep it from careening off the stage and crashing in a heap and someone getting hurt.
Whew. Now I feel better. I promise, I'll never hide anything from you again.
At the risk of giving away state secrets, I've seen several shows recently that I haven't reviewed here. Last weekend I saw Small Sails (barely), Binary Dolls, and Helio Sequence. This weekend I saw, over the course of two shows, Point Juncture WA (twice), Super XX Man, Norfolk & Western, and Alan Singley & Pants Machine.
The short version (in the order listed above): Missed the music so no opinion but stuff-projected-behind-the-stage always makes me wonder what they're covering up; never the same and mathematically improbably always above median--they rocked; where does the invisible bass player stand and why so prog-rock?; always lovely and stellar with vibraphone (twice), pretty and whispered but I imagined there was some interpersonal tension on stage; move further from "pretty and...uh....pretty" toward "shit, they rock!" every time I see them and they had a violin and a viola; and silly, wild, and playful but they've got to have some serious talent to keep it from careening off the stage and crashing in a heap and someone getting hurt.
Whew. Now I feel better. I promise, I'll never hide anything from you again.
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
A new obsession.
Sunday night at Wonder Ballroom: The Kingdom, Mecca Normal, Viva Voce, and Mates of State (It's this band the title of the post refers to).
I got there nice and early, thanks to local weeklies and even the ad by the local show promoters being just completely wrong. This is not uncommon, and I'm going to have to figure out a better system. So I saw all four sets beginning to end. The Kingdom gets talked up madly by the Portland Mercury, though they point out that one member writes for them. Meh. Pop songs with punk-rock musical conventions underpinning it, without exactly being pop-punk. The guy's got an interesting voice, like if Johnny Rotten had a background as a choirboy. British accent and all...but of course, not British in the least. Silly. All the songs sounded alike, so it got old quickly. Verdict: It'd be okay on a mix tape.
Mecca Normal: I feel like I'd heard this name before, but I'm not sure. They started the theme for the evening (two people, one male, one female, = whole band). They continued the theme for the weekend (More instruments in the song than were being played onstage...Helio Sequence, I'm lookin' at you!). These guys were just weird. He played guitar, she sang, and there was an invisible bass player. I don't like invisible musicians. Her lyrics were excessively detailed confessional prose (sample: "I listened to him stretch the condom...") sung without much rhythm or melody, mostly about people she did or did not sleep with, and occasionally about grocery shopping. Again, all the songs sounded alike. I'll pass.
Viva Voce: Husband and wife team, she played guitar and sang, he played drums and sang. The invisible member played bass. Same one? I couldn't tell. Sometimes it was fun, sometimes it was a little too arena-rock sounding. She had a double-neck guitar that was fun and hilarious, all rock-star-like. Maybe I just need to be more familiar with their stuff, though, since the two songs I have on PDX Pop Now! compilation discs I thought they knocked out of the park.
Last up was Mates of State. I am absolutely in love with this band. I was wary--another husband and wife duo who had a lot of space to fill with only the two of them. He played drums and sang, she played keyboards and sang. I spent a lot of time watching her hands (well, as best as I could from the balcony in an 800-person venue). Were they also using an invisible bass player? I finally decided that she was making all those sounds. Hooray! This was an amazing set. He's a great drummer, with this odd, high-pitched voice I kept confusing with hers. He also played kazoo (sorry...). She absolutely rocked the keyboards. It's completely joyous, major-key synth-pop, like The Postal Service without any of that pesky self-doubt. That sounds annoying. It wasn't. It was beautiful, and I'm in love.
I got there nice and early, thanks to local weeklies and even the ad by the local show promoters being just completely wrong. This is not uncommon, and I'm going to have to figure out a better system. So I saw all four sets beginning to end. The Kingdom gets talked up madly by the Portland Mercury, though they point out that one member writes for them. Meh. Pop songs with punk-rock musical conventions underpinning it, without exactly being pop-punk. The guy's got an interesting voice, like if Johnny Rotten had a background as a choirboy. British accent and all...but of course, not British in the least. Silly. All the songs sounded alike, so it got old quickly. Verdict: It'd be okay on a mix tape.
Mecca Normal: I feel like I'd heard this name before, but I'm not sure. They started the theme for the evening (two people, one male, one female, = whole band). They continued the theme for the weekend (More instruments in the song than were being played onstage...Helio Sequence, I'm lookin' at you!). These guys were just weird. He played guitar, she sang, and there was an invisible bass player. I don't like invisible musicians. Her lyrics were excessively detailed confessional prose (sample: "I listened to him stretch the condom...") sung without much rhythm or melody, mostly about people she did or did not sleep with, and occasionally about grocery shopping. Again, all the songs sounded alike. I'll pass.
Viva Voce: Husband and wife team, she played guitar and sang, he played drums and sang. The invisible member played bass. Same one? I couldn't tell. Sometimes it was fun, sometimes it was a little too arena-rock sounding. She had a double-neck guitar that was fun and hilarious, all rock-star-like. Maybe I just need to be more familiar with their stuff, though, since the two songs I have on PDX Pop Now! compilation discs I thought they knocked out of the park.
Last up was Mates of State. I am absolutely in love with this band. I was wary--another husband and wife duo who had a lot of space to fill with only the two of them. He played drums and sang, she played keyboards and sang. I spent a lot of time watching her hands (well, as best as I could from the balcony in an 800-person venue). Were they also using an invisible bass player? I finally decided that she was making all those sounds. Hooray! This was an amazing set. He's a great drummer, with this odd, high-pitched voice I kept confusing with hers. He also played kazoo (sorry...). She absolutely rocked the keyboards. It's completely joyous, major-key synth-pop, like The Postal Service without any of that pesky self-doubt. That sounds annoying. It wasn't. It was beautiful, and I'm in love.
Friday, April 21, 2006
hooray for multitasking. and long band names.
Wednesday night: At the Doug Fir, a benefit for Bus Project, the young-democrat politician incubator, and supposedly a celebration of congressman Earl Blumenauer's 1/3-of-a-century in public service. Blumenauer was a no-show, but the crowd was hilarious--all sorts of people in suits, the young Bus Project ones standing around head-bobbing, the older ones (including the head of the local teamster's union) drunk and dancing like they were at a wedding. Though there were the requisite bike-messenger bags and flip-flops too, because, of course, this is still Portland. People kept coming by, shaking my hand, and thanking me for coming. There were also people just there for the show, but they (we) were in the minority.
I missed the Retrofits. I was at home celebrating the 10-inning win over the Angels and K-Rod's blown save. I don't know anything about this band, so I wasn't wildly disappointed.
I got there just in time for Please Step Out of the Vehicle. These guys are awesome, and put on a great live show. Bouncy-yet-edgy indierock that's funny and a bit weird. The drummer kept getting up to play flute, and someone else would sit down at the drums. They're in the studio now, I think I've heard, recording their debut, but at another show of theirs I got a handmade CD-R for 2 bucks. I was hoping for another one, but no such luck.
Last up, Alan Singley and Pants Machine. I've seen these guys a few times. He totally played to the drunkening crowd, with shoutouts to some of the local pols, and all sorts of getting the crowd to "woot!" Probably could just as easily be described with the same words I used for PSOTV, but a little more acoustic-strummy and melodic.
I was actually going to bring my business cards with me, but I didn't have any at home. If there are going to be local political movers-'n'-shakers, I'd like to get in a plug for relief nursery funding. But I did end up talking to this guy, a staffer for Blumenauer, who gave me his card. His brother-in-law then joined the conversation, and B-I-L's wife is looking for a job. They live a few blocks from where I work, she's got the qualifications for a job that just opened up at the agency I work for. So I did get some networking done, both with Blumenauer's office and with a possible resume getting sent. Hooray for multitasking!
I missed the Retrofits. I was at home celebrating the 10-inning win over the Angels and K-Rod's blown save. I don't know anything about this band, so I wasn't wildly disappointed.
I got there just in time for Please Step Out of the Vehicle. These guys are awesome, and put on a great live show. Bouncy-yet-edgy indierock that's funny and a bit weird. The drummer kept getting up to play flute, and someone else would sit down at the drums. They're in the studio now, I think I've heard, recording their debut, but at another show of theirs I got a handmade CD-R for 2 bucks. I was hoping for another one, but no such luck.
Last up, Alan Singley and Pants Machine. I've seen these guys a few times. He totally played to the drunkening crowd, with shoutouts to some of the local pols, and all sorts of getting the crowd to "woot!" Probably could just as easily be described with the same words I used for PSOTV, but a little more acoustic-strummy and melodic.
I was actually going to bring my business cards with me, but I didn't have any at home. If there are going to be local political movers-'n'-shakers, I'd like to get in a plug for relief nursery funding. But I did end up talking to this guy, a staffer for Blumenauer, who gave me his card. His brother-in-law then joined the conversation, and B-I-L's wife is looking for a job. They live a few blocks from where I work, she's got the qualifications for a job that just opened up at the agency I work for. So I did get some networking done, both with Blumenauer's office and with a possible resume getting sent. Hooray for multitasking!
Sunday, April 16, 2006
Finally Quasi
Well, we might as well start somewhere, mightn't we? This is reposted from the Batcave (see my links), so if something doesn't make sense, go ahead and ask me about it. It could be some sort of joke. I could just have forgotten to explain myself.
Okay, so last night's show at the wonder ballroom:
Pan Tourismos. I'd heard the name once or twice, knew nothing about them, skipped them to listen to the end of the Twins-f'in &%^kees game. Twins won, and it was so worth it! Sorry, Pan Tourismos.
The Minders: I was looking forward to these guys, I'd heard of them repeatedly and expected to enjoy them. There was nothing wrong with them, but they didn't sound like anything but a bunch of other bands. "What do you do for a living?" "I have Robert Pollard's voice." So they sounded remarkably like Guided by Voices, but sober, and perhaps with a lobotomy (none of the weird, bizarre, fun aspects of GBV). And I spent much of their set thinking, "Oh! This bit reminds me of....oh, crap. Who is that?" Here's the partial list I came up with: Elvis Costello, The Waterboys, The Pixies (I wondered, "did they have to pay Frank Black to use that guitar line?"), every generic '60's garage pop band, and the obligatory nod to the Velvet Underground. The one band these guys didn't sound like were The Minders. There was no there there.
Finally, Quasi: I made it. I finally saw Quasi. And...um...I don't know what to say. It's like the complete opposite of the previous band. I simply can't come up with any rational comparisons, or any descriptions, or any words at all. But you know me, I'll keep talking anyway. I don't even know whether I liked them or not. Janet Weiss of Sleater-Kinney on drums. Imagine her given total free rein...holy hell. I can't imagine how she keeps from putting the drumsticks right through the drum heads. She's all power, and I swear to you, her biceps could rival the Doctor's. She's utterly amazing, and she drove the songs. She's the third voice in S-K, so it was interesting to see her voice get more prominence. Her ex-husband, Sam Coomes, heads another local band, Blues Goblin. He's a f'ing hippie. I hate f'ing hippies. But he plays crazy-ass keyboards, sometimes pounding out stride-piano blues lines with the keyboard set to what I can only imagine is "piano dropped from a great height," sometimes just pounding on the keyboard with his fists. And sometimes you can't tell which is which. At times it was fascinating and engaging, bordering on melodic, at other times it was just about to derail into experimental mess. Frequently I was sure it had derailed, but after a minute or two, Janet's drums would reassert a dominant beat, and hey, it's a song again! Coomes' voice sounds remarkably like Weiss', and the off-kilter harmonies were very fun when they were on (and unintelligible screeching when they weren't). Oh--and there was a bass player. Overall, it was incredibly loud, and powerful, and overwhelming, and interesting. Remind me never to see them in a space smaller than the Wonder Ballroom. I'd just end up a huddled mass on the floor, bleeding from the ears.
Okay, so last night's show at the wonder ballroom:
Pan Tourismos. I'd heard the name once or twice, knew nothing about them, skipped them to listen to the end of the Twins-f'in &%^kees game. Twins won, and it was so worth it! Sorry, Pan Tourismos.
The Minders: I was looking forward to these guys, I'd heard of them repeatedly and expected to enjoy them. There was nothing wrong with them, but they didn't sound like anything but a bunch of other bands. "What do you do for a living?" "I have Robert Pollard's voice." So they sounded remarkably like Guided by Voices, but sober, and perhaps with a lobotomy (none of the weird, bizarre, fun aspects of GBV). And I spent much of their set thinking, "Oh! This bit reminds me of....oh, crap. Who is that?" Here's the partial list I came up with: Elvis Costello, The Waterboys, The Pixies (I wondered, "did they have to pay Frank Black to use that guitar line?"), every generic '60's garage pop band, and the obligatory nod to the Velvet Underground. The one band these guys didn't sound like were The Minders. There was no there there.
Finally, Quasi: I made it. I finally saw Quasi. And...um...I don't know what to say. It's like the complete opposite of the previous band. I simply can't come up with any rational comparisons, or any descriptions, or any words at all. But you know me, I'll keep talking anyway. I don't even know whether I liked them or not. Janet Weiss of Sleater-Kinney on drums. Imagine her given total free rein...holy hell. I can't imagine how she keeps from putting the drumsticks right through the drum heads. She's all power, and I swear to you, her biceps could rival the Doctor's. She's utterly amazing, and she drove the songs. She's the third voice in S-K, so it was interesting to see her voice get more prominence. Her ex-husband, Sam Coomes, heads another local band, Blues Goblin. He's a f'ing hippie. I hate f'ing hippies. But he plays crazy-ass keyboards, sometimes pounding out stride-piano blues lines with the keyboard set to what I can only imagine is "piano dropped from a great height," sometimes just pounding on the keyboard with his fists. And sometimes you can't tell which is which. At times it was fascinating and engaging, bordering on melodic, at other times it was just about to derail into experimental mess. Frequently I was sure it had derailed, but after a minute or two, Janet's drums would reassert a dominant beat, and hey, it's a song again! Coomes' voice sounds remarkably like Weiss', and the off-kilter harmonies were very fun when they were on (and unintelligible screeching when they weren't). Oh--and there was a bass player. Overall, it was incredibly loud, and powerful, and overwhelming, and interesting. Remind me never to see them in a space smaller than the Wonder Ballroom. I'd just end up a huddled mass on the floor, bleeding from the ears.
Crazy, Isn't It?
This blog is in existence not to bring my off-kilter descriptions of bands and live shows to a wider audience, but to find a nice, secluded corner of the web to shelve these opinions, so the people I normally foist this stuff on can move on to more important topics. Like whether Francisco Liriano's going to make it into the starting rotation this year, and what they've had for lunch.
Now, I can't promise I'll stick to music here. Largely because I have no talent for keeping my big mouth shut. Expect to hear about baseball, beer, politics, psychology, good food, Portland, mid-century modernism, video games from my childhood, anime, day trips around the pacific northwest, things that are lime green, and the occasional foray into network television. Topics I promise to leave to the more knowledgeable: Any other sports besides baseball, and...uh oh. Help! Can anyone help me think of some other things I don't have opinions about? You won't hear much about classical music. Or....um...nuclear physics, most of the time. Pop stars, like Britney Spears and Jessica Simpson, are unlikely to get mentioned here. There will be no recipes for french onion soup. And I promise not to engage in lengthy debates about comparitive ornithology or biochemical engineering. For those of you who want less, you'll have to find it somewhere else, I guess. Bring it on, blogosphere. I've got my dukes up, and I'm ready for you.
Now, I can't promise I'll stick to music here. Largely because I have no talent for keeping my big mouth shut. Expect to hear about baseball, beer, politics, psychology, good food, Portland, mid-century modernism, video games from my childhood, anime, day trips around the pacific northwest, things that are lime green, and the occasional foray into network television. Topics I promise to leave to the more knowledgeable: Any other sports besides baseball, and...uh oh. Help! Can anyone help me think of some other things I don't have opinions about? You won't hear much about classical music. Or....um...nuclear physics, most of the time. Pop stars, like Britney Spears and Jessica Simpson, are unlikely to get mentioned here. There will be no recipes for french onion soup. And I promise not to engage in lengthy debates about comparitive ornithology or biochemical engineering. For those of you who want less, you'll have to find it somewhere else, I guess. Bring it on, blogosphere. I've got my dukes up, and I'm ready for you.
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