Live Review: Phish at Boardwalk Hall, Atlantic City, 10-30-10

i'll be the first to admit, i'm not a rabid Phish fan. Sure, i was really into them back in the day (their first few albums are monsters), but once Jerry died and those damn Deadheads took over the scene, i pretty much made with the exit, stage left. Of course, when one of my best friends, an admitted and self-affirmed Phish fan for life, opted to celebrate his 40th during the jam band's recent weekend stint in A.C., well, naturally i was going to go, too.

Truth be told, this marked at least my fifth or sixth concert, assuming you count IT as three. (Ed. note: Of course, i was pretty tanked that entire trip, so i don't know if i should count it at all. i did lose my shoe in a mud pit and was helped by hippies, though, so maybe i had the truest Phish experience of them all. But i digress...). For those of you who never have attended one of these circuses, well, little lady, allow me to elucidate.

For starters, you'll actually find a rather interesting cross-breed of society. Sure, there are far too many white kids with dreads who need a bath in the worst way, but you'll also find large numbers of professionals, minorities (you haven't lived until you've been called "brah" in a perfect stoner accent by an Indian Hindu with whom you're sharing a cab while he tries to score an extra ticket) and various other decidedly non-Phishy types. The vibe is about as laid back as one can get without lapsing into a coma, which probably is aided by the Rastafarian Dutch amounts of weed in the air. i believe i can honestly say i've never been surrounded by that much pot smoke in one setting in my life, and i'm a two-time judge at the Cannabis Cup, for chrissakes. During the performance, if you can see through the smoke, you'll notice the air is thick with flying glow sticks, beach balls and balloons. If you should happen to get smacked in the noggin with one, play along and throw it back into the crowd. When in Rome, right? Now, every Halloween, the band plays a double album from a different band (this year it was Little Feat's Waiting for Columbus), so this particular weekend is pretty highly attended.

Now, whether you're into jam bands or not, it's nigh impossible to deny that Phish is comprised of some uber-talented musicians. As long as the music doesn't get too, too "jammy," the boys can rock with the best of 'em. On this particular night, personally, i dug the show. With little exception, the sets were crisp and the energy was high. From various random strangers who chose to pontificate, i heard the night prior was somewhat lackluster. Fortunately, that was not the case here. Now, my Phish experience (and admiration) pretty much sticks to their first four albums. As fortune would have it, the boys played fairly heavily from their early materials. Of course, things were pushed into hyperdrive by a second set thick with Led Zeppelin covers. Personally, i could have done with a rousing version of "Contact," too, but what can you do?

i have no intention of touring with the band any time soon, but with sets as strong as these were, i'm not going to wait another seven years before my next show, either. A good time certainly was had by all, Phish devout or occasional listener. And that, kids, is what it's all about.

mp3: Ramble On (Led Zeppelin cover) (Phish live from Boardwalk Hall, Atlantic City, 10-30-10)

Newsflash: John Olsson Dead at 78

I've got a really big case of the sads this evening, my friends. I just heard the no good news that John Olsson, otherwise known to legions of Washingtonians as founder and guiding force between much-loved and much-missed book/music hybrid chain Olssons, had died on October 28th of a heart attack at the age of 78. The Post has all the details.

This loss isn't just sad because of what Olsson did for Washington. It's got personal resonance, too. I spent a couple very happy years at the Olssons on 7th Street in Penn Quarter, doling out sage and frequently unsolicited music advice, and will always consider those days some of the happiest and most professionally (and personally) fulfilling of my entire life. The people I met there, the friends I worked with, the things I learned...so much goodness crammed into such a short span of time, and none of it would have been possible without Mr. Olsson. He touched so many lives, be it directly or indirectly as the case may be, and it truly saddens me to reflect on the death of a Washington institution. I will forever curse the Big Bad Corporate Bookstores for leading to the demise of local places, not just here, but all over the dang place. DC was already a slightly duller place without the Olssons chain, and now it is even duller without the man himself. Rest in peace, Mr. Olsson. You are already missed.

[Photo by James A. Parcell]

Otherwise Engaged: Interpol/White Rabbits

It is an unfortunate reality for the serious concertgoer that on occasion, there will be more than one show on any given night that you really, really, REALLY wanna go to. Since the vast majority of us don't own a time machine, nor have the ability to either clone ourselves or split ourselves in half (or thirds or quarters, depending on the night in question), this tends to present a problem. Difficult decisions are made based on a multitude of variables (perhaps some of you even make lists of pros and cons), and ultimately, a show is chosen. But those other shows are still gonna be killer, and I'd like to give a little face time to the shows that, while I can't go myself, are highly recommended all the same.

There are few things I love more than a good bit of moody, melancholy darkness as performed by black-clad, brooding gentlemen. Now that the weather is taking a dive (much like Argentian footballers! Zing!), the need for the cold angularity of certain music becomes even greater. If you’re like me, and get a serious case of the mopes around this time of year, you’re in luck (well, only if you’re in the greater DC metro area). Tonight, over at DAR Constitution Hall, you can get your brood on with a fantastic double bill starring Interpol and White Rabbits. I strongly suggest you consider attending. If I wasn’t an incubus of plague, I’d be there myself.

mp3: They Done Wrong, We Done Wrong (White Rabbits from It's Frightening)

100 Shows of 2010 - #81: Turbo Fruits/Pujol @ Comet Ping Pong, 10/22/10

I don't know about y'all, but when Friday night rolls around, I either want to throw on pajamas right after work and be in bed by 10, or I wanna rock the fuck out and get my face melted off by seriously amazing music, preferably with a cocktail or five in hand. On this particular Friday I went for the latter, venturing out to Comet Ping Pong for the first time ever, and in doing so made the musical acquaintance of two bands from Tennessee who all sorts of rocked my world. Behold, my compadres, the live musical wonder that is Pujol and Turbo Fruits.

MINI RECAP: Pujol = Lewd & Rude! Turbo Fruits = Lewder & Ruder! Overall Score: A

Full discosure, it'd been a long time since I went anywhere on the Rock Creek Parkway. I kinda sorta got a little lost on the way, which meant I missed a few Pujol songs. Which I was, and still am, really bummed about. Because friends, this set, or what I saw of it, was killer. The music of Daniel Lucca Pujol, otherwise known as Pujol, is short, sweet, and simple. More than anything, it fucking rocks. Those little tunes, as knocked out by Pujol along with some help from his friends, were easy and freewheelin', not to mention nice and loud. The attitude was all right, feisty and seriously sassy. The crowd was way into it, which includes the opinion of yours truly. This band grooved and rocked and shimmy-shaked all over the damn place. Hot damn indeed. Unless you happen to be a St. Louis Cardinals fan, this is the best damn Pujol around (or Pujols, as the case may be).

The venue was perfect for these bands. Comet Ping Pong has no true "stage," meaning the bands are on the same level as the paying punters. The in-your-face thing is perfect for bands like Pujol and Turbo Fruits, who drawlingly snarl and sneer their way into your grill as it is. And so it was that, the flag of the state of Tennessee draped behind the drumkit and Enya's "Sail Away" blaring out of the speakers, Turbo Fruits picked up their instruments and unleashed the rock. From opening song "Trouble", I knew it was in for a treat. The song, the set, and the band was utterly infectious. I'd place them as in the vein of Kings of Leon (WAY before the MOR suckage, folks, keep your pants on, I'm talkin' about first EP stuff) with hearty doses of the bratty snarl of Atlanta boys The Black Lips, with an overall swagger and presence impressive for a new band. These boys alone were worth getting lost on that damn Parkway for. Sweet mercy, brothers and sisters. Sweet Mercy. Turbo Fruits is a little bit country and a WHOLE lotta rock&roll. The sound swelled into the small room, turning my brain into sludge with their rocking out. I got the sense that this is a band that could go from zero to Pete Townshend (i.e mass instrument destruction) in six seconds flat. Hair tossin', drum poundin', and brutal guitar riffin'. And melodiousness too? Bonus. Can't beat that with a stick. No sirree. "Thanks for havin' us," said they, "We love your women." And Turbo Fruits, we women of DC love you (well, this one sure does).

Both of these bands ruled the roost with their sweaty, raw rock&roll, and subsequently my love for them is off the charts. This, friends, is music to be heard in close quarters. So step on it, cuz I suspect you won't get a chance to see them in small environs for too much longer.

mp3: Butterflyknife (Pujol from the All At the Same Time EP)

mp3: Mama's Mad Cos I Fried My Brain (Turbo Fruits from Echo Kid)

100 Shows of 2010 - #80: The Last Monarchs/Small Mountain Bear @ Busboys and Poets, 10/21/10

Shirlington, o Shirlington. The place I remember as being a small, not-too-crowded weekend movie oasis just off I-395 on the way to DC in the middle of a whole lotta nothing as a kid has grown up into a burgeoning yuppie metropolis. Fancy restaurants, fancy condos, fancy shops...and not much parking to speak of (and parking decks full of resident parking). However, in one of those fancy (yet awesome) restaurants, there was a show. And while not fancy, this here show, it was plenty awesome. It was a night of good company and good music, and damned if that isn't the best kinda night to have.

MINI RECAP: Small Mountain Bear = Strummerific! The Last Monarchs = Strumtastic! Overall Score: B

My friend Heather swears up, down, and sideways by Small Mountain Bear, otherwise known as Will Read. Will is a recent transplant to NYC, gives music away for free on the internets, and has himself a pretty nice little voice. In it you will hear shades of Cat Stevens, along with tones reminiscent of one of my favorite voices, local and otherwise, Mister Justin Jones. The sound at Busboys & Poets was well-suited to Read's one-man setup, though not so much for The Last Monarchs' more expansive sound (see below). The cover of Michael Jackson's "Black or White" was an unexpected treat, Read's voice and acoustic lending a whole new direction to one of Jacko's biggest songs. Thanks to the great parking hunt I missed a fair chunk of the Small Mountain Bear set, but what I heard I liked. Quite a bit.

The Last Monarchs, hailing from Alexandria, made their way onto the small stage and proceeded to play one heck of a little set. As mentioned above, the sound nearly did them a disservice, as I couldn't quite make out what the band said between songs thanks to muddy mics, but apart from that (and the drums being just this shade of too loud on occasion) their full band lushness was treated fairly well. Reminiscent somewhat of an old Richmond favorite, Mermaid Skeletons, but livelier and with more attitude, The Last Monarchs made me wonder just how I'd managed to miss the boat on them thus far. After all, Alexandria is pretty much my backyard. At times a little twang crept in, which while not your typical DC sound, sure did sound good to me. And again, it must be noted that violins and having a shit ton of people in your band both seem to be the new black, but I'm definitely down with both. Especially in the same band. And they covered "Folsom Prison Blues", which sounded great and won me over for dang sure.

Overall, it was a darned fine evening's worth of entertainment. I give both bands the ole thumbs up. Locals, make sure to check out The Last Monarchs. New Yorkers, put Small Mountain Bear on your radar. Everyone else, well, you've been advised to give both a looksie. They're both worth your while.

mp3: The Story of My Life (Small Mountain Bear - go here to listen and support)

Live Review: The Corin Tucker Band at the Black Cat, 10-29-10

i do love me some Sleater-Kinney, so it was somewhat of a no brainer that i attend Corin Tucker's new solo venture this past weekend at DC's finest Black Cat. As i knew i was going to see her within weeks of her debut solo CD, 1,000 Years, hitting shelves, i opted not to purchase it before the show. If i'm going to shell out ducats for a disc, i like to at least pretend i'm giving as much of the money as possible directly to the artist in question. Purchasing from the literal hand of the band seems to accomplish that goal.

Anyway, long story short (if it's not too late already), i really had no idea what to expect from Ms. T's new gig. The majority of reviews i'd read kept going on and on about what a new and softer side the CD demonstrated, but all i had heard prior to Friday night was the single, "Doubt," which is rather a rocker, so i figured those reviewers were blockheads.

So here's what i learned. The majority of Corin's new stuff is, indeed, of a softer, more mellow nature. For the most part, this is a good and fine thing, demonstrating her growth as both an artist and a lyricist. In a live setting, however, Tucker's voice sounded a tad strained on some of the higher notes of the quieter, more intimate tracks. Of course, this was the last night of her tour, so some vocal fatigue probably is to be expected. On the rockers, however, she belted them out with the usual ferocity we SK fans have come to adore. And let's be honest, these were the tracks the crowd came to hear. While the audience was respectful throughout the evening, when the volume was cranked, that's when the crowd started moving. Another lesson--Tucker has employed a damn talented band, but may have perhaps the sweatiest keyboardist/rhythm guitarist on the planet in Seth Lorinczi. i'm sure he's one hell of a guy, and he certainly was a strong musician, but guy was dripping so much, i think i lost some weight. Back to the music, however, the new stuff is excellent, and i did end up buying the CD post-show. That being said, the highlight for me, without question, was CT's choice to close the evening, a rocking rendition of Sheila E's "The Glamorous Life," quite possibly the best encore choice i've heard this year.

It's my understanding that one of the many reasons SK broke up was to allow Tucker to pursue mommyhood, and let me say, it appears to be treating her well, as she looked stunning (somebody slimmed up nice and sexy during this tour; rowr!) and performed with energy. Hell, i even loved the baby onesies she sold in lieu of posters. Family can be a good thing.

While a Sleater-Kinney reunion would be a sweet, sweet thing, as evidenced by Ms. Tucker's solo performance (not to mention some stellar things the other band mates are doing with the Jicks and Thunder Ant), the ladies' reputation moving forward seems to be doing just fine.

mp3: Doubt (The Corin Tucker Band from 1,000 Years)

Otherwise Engaged: Cloud Cult

It is an unfortunate reality for the serious concertgoer that on occasion, there will be more than one show on any given night that you really, really, REALLY wanna go to. Since the vast majority of us don't own a time machine, nor have the ability to either clone ourselves or split ourselves in half (or thirds or quarters, depending on the night in question), this tends to present a problem. Difficult decisions are made based on a multitude of variables (perhaps some of you even make lists of pros and cons), and ultimately, a show is chosen. But those other shows are still gonna be killer, and I'd like to give a little face time to the shows that, while I can't go myself, are highly recommended all the same.

For example, let's look at tonight, shall we? The District of Columbia is blessed with a bounty of shows virtually any night of the week. But on nights such as tonight, this gift becomes almost a burden. Any other night of the week, I would totally be at the Black Cat to see Cloud Cult. Any. Other. Night. I've never seen 'em, have wanted to see 'em for a while, and would love to see them at my favoritest of favorite spots. But of course, the scheduling gods did not take my needs into consideration. Thanks a lot, scheduling gods. But just because I can't be there for their sonic goodness doesn't mean YOU can't be. And rest of the country, they're on tour for a wee while longer, so go forth and enjoy.

mp3: You'll Be Bright (Cloud Cult from Light Chasers)

Concert Alert: Prince's Welcome to America Tour

Guess who already has tickets to two shows and plans on getting some VIP seats to at least one more?

i don't write about his Royal Badness here that often, quite frankly because since he went batshit crazy and found Jehovah, his music has suffered tremendously. More importantly, he's got to be the most litigious little bugger out there in the industry today. Since we post a lot of mp3s here, i've stayed away from his material like the plague, even though there's nothing i'd like more than to expose you cats to some of his lesser known masterpieces. Screw "1999," until you've heard "Rock Hard in a Funky Place," just sit the fuck down, son.

All that being said, that purple freak got me through high school and college. My parents bought me tickets to the Purple Rain tour for my 9th birthday, having no idea whatsoever who he was or what they were about to introduce me to. Hell, the Lovesexy Tour remains the single greatest concert i've ever attended. With the exception of the Sign O' The Times Tour, i believe i've seen every U.S. tour he's done. And now, i'll be adding this one to the list.

Jealous? If you're not, you most certainly should be.

Oh, for those of you that want to check out the Welcome to America Tour yourself, here are the deets:

Izod Center: December 14, 15, 17

Madison Square Garden: December 18, 29

Go to Ticket Bastard to get charged outrageously, but, fuck it, it's Prince, so it's more than worth the price of admission.

As of this moment, i'll be at the shows on the 17th and 18th.

mp3: Shockadelica - L.M.L.Y.P. (Prince cover) (Ween from God Ween Satan: the Oneness)

mp3: Darling Nikki (Prince Cover) (Rebecca Romijn Stamos from Electro Goth Tribute to Prince)

mp3: Paisley Park (Prince Cover) (Johnny Goudie from Do Me Baby: Austin Does Prince)

mp3: How Come You Don't Call Me Anymore? (Prince Cover) (Dump from That Skinny Motherfucker with the High Voice)

mp3: Starfish and Coffee (Prince Cover) (Matt Nathanson from For the Kids Too! )

mp3: We All Wanna Be Prince (Felix da Housecat from He Was King)

Video Vixens: Violent Sensation Descends by Violens

Hey, kids, all ready for Halloween? Have you burned and memorized The Greatest Zombie Mixtape You Ever Will Hear yet? Ready for some more scary stuff?

The guys in Violens just sent us the video for their song "Violent Sensation Descend." Directed by Alejandro Cardenas, it is the first video from Violens' debut full-length Amoral, out November 9 on Friendly Fire Recordings.

Violent Sensation Descends from Violens on Vimeo.

As if the dead chick weren't enough, this one has the boys dressed as PRIESTS, too, obviously the scariest of all monsters. Spooky, eh, kids?

mp3: Violent Sensation Descend (Violens from Amoral)

100 Shows of 2010 - #79: Gary Numan @ Black Cat, 10/20/10

Oh. Sweet. Mercy. For my 79th show, my friends, I got to see an absolute, certified, bona fide, hot damn Legend. In what was very probably the musical event of the 100 thus far, yours truly was witness to the one, the only, Gary fucking Numan. At the Black fucking Cat, to boot. Which means, for those who have never had the pleasure of a show upstairs at said venue, it was choc full of Numan fans young and old in a cozy space that made one feel oh so special for being there. In a way it was surreal, seeing such a performer in such a space. The good kind of surreal, of course. There was a strange, cosmic sort of serendipity about this show, but I'll get into that later. Give me a minute, friends, I think I'm still in recovery...


MINI RECAP: Gary Numan = He Is Legend! Overall Score: A

And now, for the serendipity. Numan's tour, in which he played the vast majority of the record, was The Pleasure Principle tour. This album was released on 1979. Also of note in 1979? Yours truly was born. And in the third piece of this little serendipitous triad, this show is #79. So already, even before things got underway, this show was destined to be quite memorable. As we know, this kind of tour has become quite the rage, especially amongst bands that perhaps haven't been in the public eye in a while. And so, to my delight, around comes Gary Numan, touring the heck out of one of 1979's most seminal albums (seriously, if you don't own it...).

This show could have been a little dodgy. By his own admission, Numan was dealing with some sort of vocal issues, and considered canceling the show. But to the delight of those present, he decided to soldier on, and I'm so very glad he did. Sure, the crowd picked up the slack on several numbers (which added a sort of loose, intimate vibe to the proceedings), but when Numan sang he very frequently sounded just right. Perhaps I was listening with ears prone to hearing just the good bits, or perhaps I was just so excited to see one of the most important new wave/synth artists of ever. Be that as it may, Gary Numan damn near killed it.

His supporting bandmates filled the room with song after song of Gary's trademark dark, sexy synth-laden sound. Hearing my trio of favorites from The Pleasure Principle was nothing short of breathtaking: "Metal", "Films", and "M.E." Each song was fantastic. When the notes of "Cars" inevitably began to waft into the room, along with a battery of strobes, there was an overall feeling of ecstasy within the walls of the Black Cat. Everything was working, the darkness, the nuances of the songs, the absolute synthy perfection...even when he abandoned The Pleasure Principle and pulled from later, more rocking records, Numan to me didn't miss a beat.

And yes. If you're wondering whether or not the man is still a fox, the answer is a resounding and very emphatic yes.

The man who helped launch a movement proved he can still play with the best of them. Had he not had a night of being a little vocally-challenged, this show would have been even more glorious, somehow. But as it stands, it was one hell of a night. Viva Gary Numan!

mp3: Metal (Gary Numan from The Pleasure Principle)

Blog on Blog Love: I Learned It by Listening to You!

Much like i learned to smoke pot from watching your dad, today we're going to delve into some new "party favor" music by listening to some of LET's favorite blogs. Technically, the last tracks to check out today are from a direct submission as opposed to a blog, but, Jebus, people, it's a drug music post. Chill the fuck out, already.

i've got to be honest, i've got mixed feelings about Cali. i love San Fran and wine country (spent my honeymoon there), but L.A. is a cesspool second only to NYC (that's right, the Chicago kid said it). Sure, i'm dying to go to Low End Theory, but that's about as far as that infatuation goes. Oh, and i dig the Sharks (but not these ones). Of course, with Prop 19 hopefully passing shortly, i'm clearly going to have to rethink my entire fear of earthquakes and consider relocating. As the always spectacularly written Passion of the Weiss hipped us to, the kids in The Knux recently weighed in on the issue, throwing their support in exactly the direction you'd think a song posted on this list would. Gotta love The Knux, mixing in real instruments into their hip hop. They're like the Reese's Pieces of Rap. Actually, that's a horrible simile. Please forget i ever mentioned it.

mp3: Medusa (Let's Get Stoned) (The Knux from Yes on Prop 19)

The more and more i get back into hip hop, the better and better Potholes in My Blog becomes to my eye holes. As luck would have it, they surfaced the impeccably named Smoke Weed About It EP by WALSH, the new side project Brandon Biondo of COOLRUNNINGS, who clearly likes to cap his endeavors. Bedroom beats and production, 80s synths and Casio percussion abound on this seven tracker. If all the money i bribed that dude on the corner who said he ran the Internet pays off, and you're re-directed here from Gorilla vs. Bear, this is the EP for you.

mp3: Sweet Draemz (WALSH from Smoke Weed About It EP)

And finally, our good friend, Ricky Eat Acid, just dropped his latest aural experiment. To my ear, it's a bit darker than his usual fare, and the fuzz is amped a tad, but that in no way makes this any less groove-able. Plus, the opening track samples what i believe is an 80s anti-drug PSA, which always garners brownie points in my book. Remember, though, kids, that's supposed to be a warning, not encouragement.

mp3: Get married~ (Ricky Eat Acid from Dance with u)

mp3: Everyone u love is dead (Ricky Eat Acid from Dance with u)

100 Shows of 2010 - #78: The Henry Clay People/The Dig @ Black Cat, 10/14/10

So looking back, at this point in the year this week (10/11-10/14) of shows currently stands as the best of the best. Four straight nights, four killer shows. And I do mean killer. The last of these shows featured two bands straight outta Cali that I'd been wanting to see for quite a while, especially that group of rapscallions of The Henry Clay People. I've said it (many, many times) before, and apologies if you're sick of hearing it but I'll keep saying it til I'm dang near blue in the face: Bands from California just do it better, sometimes. And one of those times, wait for it, was this particular evening. It was pretty, it was rockin', and it was the finest of fine ways to wrap up the week of concert-going.

MINI RECAP: The Dig = Royal Flush! The Henry Clay People = Full House! Overall Score: B++++

Band numero uno was The Dig. Despite the fact that their Myspace page proclaims their Brooklyn residency, the band introduced themself with a hearty "Hello, we're from California." Go figure. Is it that non-California bands want to be considered California bands? Whatever the case may be, I dug The Dig. This little foursome took you from being bathed in a really, really pretty wash of dreamlike reverie to being rocked like an earthquake. Y'all know how I like that juxtaposition of slow-motion magic and suggestive rock groovin', so me and The Dig, well, we got along just fine. I found a particular kinship in the lyric, "Only lookin' for a good time," because, well, I just did. As much as I enjoyed thier sweet moments of lulling bliss, I tended to appreciate their turning things up a few notches even more (think that sunshiney gloss of Southern California that's been dragged through a few all-night benders, perhaps). There was an ease to their set, an air of being uncomplicated but really quite good at what they're doing. At one point, I likened them to The Kinks, dragged through the Motor City and left wandering, dazed and confused, in the middle of Hollywood. Which means pretty dang fine.

The Henry Clay People is definitely a California band, both residentially and musically speaking. They claim they want "everybody to be a Henry Clay Person," and while I'm not sure what the rest of the general populace of the planet thinks, I'm definitely ready to call myself an honorary Henry Clay Person. I'd wanted to see them for what kinda almost felt like forever, and I must say, the wait was worth it. They laid it all out for us, friends, from those lively, bold vocals to the gnarly strumming of the guitar to the bulky heft of the rhythm section and of course, the ever-so slight possible nerdiness. It was all there, in the set, and it was all awesome. As was their cheeky sense of humor. When "everything broke" at the start of the second song, it was suggested that Jordan (i.e. pianist/vocalist) sing us some showtunes. It was an affable, fun moment, and Jordan took the cue and took on Bowie's "Space Odyssey," which, I tell you what y'all, was a damn fine improvisational cover. Well played indeed. Resuming their normal transmissions, The Henry Clay People hopped along a wide variety of touchstones from Weezer to the playful cheek of The Faces and a half dozen other stops in between. The radness was just non-stop from this band. Daggum, y'all, they were delightful.

It was one hell of a week, and these two bands capped it off something fierce. Do yourself a favor and dig The Dig, and let yourself become a Henry Clay Person. And GO SEE THEM BOTH LIVE. IMMEDIATELY. GO.

mp3: Switch Kids (The Henry Clay People from Somewhere On The Golden Coast)

A Couple of Quickies

As sometimes happens, the day got away from me, so no glowing prose today. Fortunately, i do have a couple of tracks i think we'll all agree are pretty damn tasty.

i'm still not 100 percent down for Aloe Blacc, but i will say this--when he gets a hold of a track, he really does knock it out of the park. i already dug "I Need a Dollar," and this live version, apparently recorded at some dinner table whilst AB was shooting a short film in France, makes me dig it that much more.

mp3: I Need a Dollar (Live at a Dinner Table) (Aloe Blacc from Some Dinner Table in France)

Let the record show, i tried using the embed link sent to me by the PR flaks for Mount Kimbie, which, of course, didn't work. Since it's up at RCRD LBL now, i'm considering it open to the world and am using their link instead. This track, recorded live at Berghain, Berlin, is being given away in anticipation of their upcoming EP, Blind Night Errand, due Nov. 29. If that's half as good as Crooks & Lovers, well, i expect it to be one of the better CDs of the year. Some of the best chilled dubstep out there today, if you ask me.

mp3: Ruby (Live at Berghain) (Mount Kimbie from Ruby (Live at Berghain))

Singles Club: Get Some from Lykke Li

Somewhat to the chagrin of the Missus, i have a bit of a thing for Lykke Li. (OK, to be honest, in all likelihood, my wife is far more disturbed by the fact that i've turned our guest room into a Star Wars shrine, but work with me here.)

As fortune would have it, Ms. Li has dropped a "tiny shiny" new single and accompanying B-side, and i'm here to tell you, it's something else.

Teaming up once again with Björn Yttling of Peter Bjorn and John, the title track is percussion heavy, much more in-line with the live performances she's given over the past couple of years than Youth Novels might have led one to believe. If this is what the new CD, due early next year, is going to sound like, i am one happy camper, i tell you what. B-side, Paris Blue, would be the pre-requisite ballad.

With lines like, "Don't pull your pants until I go down," and, "I'm your prostitute. You gon get some," i do believe we have another winner.

mp3: Get Some (Lykke Li from Get Some 7")

mp3: Paris Blue (Lykke Li from Get Some 7")

Newsflash!: We're Throwing a Rock'n'Roll Party!

That's right, little darlings! Your favorite sassypants music scribes are helping to bring together some seriously spectacular bands for a night of live music fantabulousness! Those of you with the keen eye have probably already spotted this little event on our calendar over yonder, but to announce it all official-like, here goes. We're tingly all over just thinking about it, let me tell you.

We're pleased as punch to be sponsoring one heck of a doozy of a show, if I do say so myself. I guarandamntee the Velvet Lounge is the place to be on Friday, November 5th. If you've got plans, break 'em. A date? Bring 'em along! Bring your mama, your best friend, and your side piece for what will without a doubt be one heck of a show. For starters, Baltimore's (and DC's) Sister Ex will bring some rock to the table. Then, Boston's own Boy Without God will bring a little beauty to your life. To cap it off, we've finagled not one but two of our pet bands into playing for the enjoyment of each and every one of you: Seas (DC) and The Loom (NYC). See how much we love y'all? There is so much goodness to be had I just don't know what to do with myself. And all for the bargain bonanza price of $8. Seriously.

We hope to see all of your beautiful, shining faces on November 5th. We're looking forward to it immensely, and hope you will to, as you ink it down on your calendars/enter it into whatever iPhone app you've got for such occasions.

mp3: Narrows (Seas from Now My Home Is A Beech Tree)

100 Shows of 2010 - #77: Jeff The Brotherhood/The Woggles @ Black Cat, 10/13/10

It's funny, isn't it, how sometimes our friends can know what's best for us even better than we do. I owe this particularly blissful Wednesday evening to my friend Max, who was taken aback (i.e. horrified, scandalized, and on the verge of going into shock) by the fact that I hadn't been planning on attending the Jeff The Brotherhood/The Woggles show. So emphatic was his proclamation that I would have a killer time to end all killer times that I relented, and chose rock and roll over an early bedtime. And I'll tell you what, my sweet little rock and rollers, when it comes to the choice between rock and sleep, never, ever let sleep win.

MINI RECAP: The Woggles = Wickedly Wicked! Jeff The Brotherhood = Radically Rad! Overall Score: A

James Brown might have been the Hardest Working Man in Show Business, but the dudes of The Woggles are the hardest working I've seen grace a stage in a long, long time. Working on their third decade of rampant rock and roll, these four have more love for the music, more gusto, and more showmanship in their little fingers than the vast majority of bands out there. Guarandamnteed. Beyond my serious sartorial appreciation of their matching double-breasted uniforms, I was virtually rendered speechless by the sheer spectacle of their unbridled power. How I've never gotten into them before, well, is an oversight of the highest order. I can only apologize and promise to do better, for both myself and for you. There's a definite 60s-ness to The Woggles, a mix of the scuzz of the Motor City with the taut pop sensibilities of the British Invasion. In other words, this shit will get you moving like nobody's business. The bouncing! The howling! The hamming! It was non-stop, ridiculous awesomeness. Singer Mighty Manfred works the stage (um, and the entire room, particularly the counter of the bar and the floor) like a man possessed by the unholiest of unholy ghosts, writhing and wriggling and gettin' down with his bad self. He also tossed out banterous gems, the most sage being this: "No shy boy ever got laid." Discuss. This set took my breath away, plain and simple.

Before they began, I thought there was absolutely no way whatsoever that Jeff The Brotherhood, or any band for that matter, could hope to succeed at attempting to follow such a glorious set. After all, how does one top such a successful pairing of over-the-top posturing and fantastic rock? Turns out, it wasn't so hard after all. Two guys, drums and a guitar quickly and resoundingly proved me wrong. They laid down their driving, dirty rock and it didn't take long before I was diggin' their vibrations. There was bit of retro swamp rock going on, hints of CCR spending too many nights in Nashville perhaps, pounding bourbon shots and jamming with Black Sabbath. They were thunderingly loud, building layer upon layer of filthy splendor. If The Woggles had me feeling like I was livin' in the 60s, Jeff The Brotherhood fast-forwarded a decade later to the hazy, heady heydays of stoner, droner 70s rock. I was beyond pleasantly surprised by how much I liked them.

These two bands made a perfect pair, and the whole damn thing was just about a perfect show. What a night, my friends. What a fanfuckingtastic night. Please, go forth and welcome The Woggles and Jeff The Brotherhood into your lives. I promise it'll be worth your while. And definitely, unquestionably go see them live whenever you can.

mp3: Ragged But Right (The Woggles from Ragged But Right)

mp3: Bone Jam (Jeff The Brotherhood from Heavy Days)

Mid-Afternoon of the Dead: The Latest, Greatest Zombie Mix You Ever Will Hear Update

Well, i spent so much time working on those Terrible Album Reviews (tm) that i didn't get around to compiling enough singles for another Free Music Friday. Combined with the fact that i've got two concerts next weekend, looks like you lucky bastards are going to get the final installment of this year's Greatest Zombie Mix You Ever Will Hear today! Fucking A, right? The Great Pumpkin comes early this year, kids.

The original made an earlier installment, but Jay Brannan does a haunting, plaintive take on the Cranberries classic. Only problem is his accent isn't nearly as thick, so when he sings, "...bombs...," it actually sounds like, "...bombs..." i like how the original sounds like, "...bongs..." i'm exceptionally childish like that.

mp3: Zombie (Cranberries Cover) (Jay Brannan from In Living Color)

Sadly, this next track has nothing whatsoever to do with leftover weed from a town of the undead. Here's a completely not interesting factoid for you--this is one of two brigades in this update. So there's that.

mp3: Zombie City Shake (Black Hat Brigade from Fathers)

Feeling deprived of weird, electronic instrumental music with a touch of 8-bit magic to keep your Halloween party pumping? Hey, kid, i've got your back.

mp3: Zombie Dance (Original Mix) (Action Man from Stamina EP)

And now for something completely different. Zombie chick alt-rock.

mp3: Zombie Party (Anna Yvette from Moonlighter)

Conceptually, this is one of the meaner songs on the list. Seriously, who puts zombies in a zoo? That hardly seems polite.

mp3: Zombie Zoo (Tom Petty from Full Moon Fever)

Well, maybe if i lived here, i'd put zombies in the zoo, too.

mp3: Zombies Ate My Neighbors (Single File from Common Struggles)

Do you think Dethklok sounds like a bunch of pussies? You might dig Zombie Hate Brigade, then. What i can't figure out is are they a brigade of people who hate zombies or is there brigade comprised of zombie hatred? This is the problem with being an English major.

mp3: Zombie Snacks (Zombie Hate Brigade from Zombie Hate Brigade)

Best. Zombie. Song. Name. EVER. No idea what they're screaming about, but does it really matter? If i were having sex with a restrained undead goat, i'd probably make similar noises myself.

mp3: Bondage Goat Zombie (Belphegor from Bondage Goat Zombie)

Given the choice between being locked in a room with a member of the living undead and Wendy O. Williams, your chances for survival are probably better to make it out if you choose the brain eater.

mp3: You're a Zombie (Plastmatics from Maggots: The Record)

Now, i'm only an uncredited zombie expert myself, but if one were to eat a zombie, wouldn't one become a zombie oneself? Really don't think you guys thought this one through to the end. i'm just saying.

mp3: Zombie Eaters (Faith No More from The Real Thing)

And a heartfelt and sincere pyschobilly zombie warning from the absolutely best Halloween-themed-name-riffing-on-the-80s band ever as we bring this latest update to a conclusion. Happy Haunting, kiddies.

mp3: Zombie Bob (Vulture Club from Roadkill Cafe)

One More Terrible Review: Funstyle by Liz Phair

i'll be the first to admit, i was less than impressed with Liz Phair's two previous outings, Somebody's Miracle and Liz Phair. Sure, they each had a track or two worth listening to, but truth be told, they weren't stellar. During the most recent phase of her career, Phair seemed to go out of her way to court an audience that wasn't interested. Worse yet, it looked like she was spiting the fan base she did have to assumedly capture a bigger slice of the marketing pie. Then, when it seemed she couldn't piss off her core any further, she does a complete and total about face and drops what has been kindly described as a career killer. i'm here to say, fuck all y'all haters. Funstyle not only isn't that bad, it's actually got a couple of "return to form" moments, too.

"Smoke" kicks things off, a tongue-in-cheek knock against her former label, essentially an imagined dialogue with her various detractors. The chorus, however, with its bluesy piano, actually is pretty damn good, reminiscent of "Baby Got Going" to my ears. "Bollywood" is the track you may have heard already, a goofy rap that further decries the industry. At this point, the album seems a bit too self-aware (if this is the album that cost Phair her career, why do all the songs talk about her fall?); i have to imagine the opening tracks were written after the fact, but still. Fortunately, silly or not, they ain't bad. The album then takes a turn towards the sincere with "You Should Know Me" and "Miss September," a nice touch. "My My" comes as close to R&B style funk as i believe Liz has ever come, and quite frankly, she holds her own admirably. Maybe it's the horns and the backing singers, but i dig the sound. "Oh Bangladesh" skews closer to the sound i've come to expect from the Illinois native, and "Bang Bang" might be the best damn song she's performed in years--it's earnest, it's simple and it's good, 'nuff said. "Beat Is Up" is another one of the silly numbers, making liberal use of a guru extolling the virtues of letting go of one's past mistakes sprinkled between Phair pushing a pumping chorus and one of the best Chicago accents since Bill Swerkski's Super Fans and Da Bears. "And He Slayed Her" is a good mid-tempo number, in the same category as the album's middle tracks. "Satisfied," interestingly enough, is the only track here i didn't particularly find satisfying. "U Hate It"closes the kimono by further shitting on the industry, imagining that the album was a success and that the heads in charge of the industry are just idiots.

While i'm not arguing with the latter, it's doubtful the former will come true. This is unfortunate, because there's a lot to like here. We'll see whether or not Ms. Liz ever returns to her former glory days, but i can say this certainly is closer than she's been in quite some time. Now, i have a theory that no Liz Phair album can succeed without one totally raunchy track ("Flowers," "Chopsticks," etc.), so hopefully we can get back to that on the next one. For the time being, though, i'm pretty content.

mp3: Oh Bangladesh (Liz Phair from Funstyle)

100 Shows of 2010 - #76: The Love Language/Lost In The Trees/Pomegranates @ Black Cat, 10/12/10

There are bands I’ve seen once and been quite happy to leave at that. There are bands, however, that happen to require frequent live observation. Bands that you can’t get enough of. Bands that you could see night in and night out and still crave more. I just so happen to have seen not one, not two, but three of this variety of band on one bill. Lucky, no? The bands in question? The Love Language, Lost In The Trees, and Pomegranates. Or, as you might wish to refer to them, Amazing, Amazing, and Amazing.

MINI RECAP: Pomegranates = Adorably Perfect! Lost In The Trees = Lovely Terrificness! The Love Language = Loves Of My Life! Overall score: A

When last I saw Pomegranates, they were playing a late late late show at a small boutique in the middle of Richmond. It’s been a while, and the band is definitely moving up in the world (and deservedly so). Their sound is even better than I had remembered, luscious and rich, playful and exuberant. The music this band makes is totally adorable, like the band themselves, yet with a subtle air of sophistication creeping in. It’s poptastic, yet they can put the pedal to the metal at a moment’s notice, squashing the fluff in favor of feverish noise. I adore the sort of dreaminess in their music, giving it a lighter-then-air feeling at times. And oh yeah. That smoke machine? Cutest thing ever. I picked up on some hints of the early years of The Verve in some of their songs, and y’all know that equates to winner winner chicken dinner in my book. However, for all their swirling lull, they can get the ole hips a-swayin’ no problem. They’re a lively bunch, those Pomegranates, and they are utterly, totally, ever-so completely delightful. Closing with a kickily rollicking rendition of “Everybody Come Outside”, the band shut it down on a high note. I had all but forgotten how splendid a live band they were, but believe you me I won’t be forgetting that again.

It was then time for the mysterious sandwich band with whom I was totally unfamiliar. Friends, that was a major oversight on my part. North Carolinians Lost In The Trees were intriguing, beguiling, and plenty of other –ings too. This massively nebulous conglomeration won me over immediately. I mean, who doesn’t love a band that starts their set in the middle of the crowd? And things only got better from there. The band is in possession of a slightly mysterious and spooky kinda sound, somewhat in the vein of the glorious Devotchka, but with more of that down home Southern thang goin’ on. They’ve got brass and they’ve got strings, but they are neither brassy nor stringy. Instead, they hover somewhere in the realms of haunting and enchanting, with a plaintive quality to their beautiful earthiness. To quoth my friend Bill, himself a North Carolina resident, there’s definitely something very cinematic to their music, being as expansive and grand as it can be. This music would have made a perfect accompaniment to my drive home from North Carolina a few weekends back, what with the glow of the sun hitting the turning leaves just so against a gentle blue sky. So very pretty. And so very highly recommended.

And on came The Love Language. When last I saw them, I was hithering and thithering with abandon down at SXSW 2009, and didn’t get to appreciate a full Love Language set. But tonight, on lead LL man Stuart McLamb’s birthday, that was put to right. And it was a superb little set, I assure you. After a slight delay for some birthday shots, McLamb & co. began to play, and I began to swoon. They somehow managed to sound even better than I had hoped, casting a spell with their sugar-coated heartbreak and all around loveliness. As the band played on, I couldn’t help my mind from wandering to the thought that North Carolina is a hotbed of good music possibly on par with the big boys of New York, LA, and Austin. I really am still processing just how very good they were. My one complaint about the set was that I wanted to hear more old stuff, but then, I’m just silly sometimes. But of course, hearing the jingle jangle swamp rock of “Lalita” quickly put everything right. As did this entire evening.

All I can say, ladies and gentlemen, is that these three bands are worth your time, and your eternal love and affection. I know they’ve all got mine.


mp3: 50's (Pomegranates from the forthcoming One Of Us)

mp3: Heart To Tell (The Love Language from Libraries)

100 Shows of 2010 - #75: Women/ DD/MM/YYYY @ DC9, 10/11/10

Upon seeing this here show, I’ve come to a conclusion, my sweetest of sweet loves. We could each and every one of us benefit from more Women in our lives. No, not women women. I mean Women, the Canadian ensemble full of much supreme awesomeness and an excess of sonic splendifery. Though, come to think of it some of you could probably use more women, too, but that’s neither here nor there. So let’s consider #75 here as the one in which two bands of northerly neighbors come to DC and lay down some seriously bitchin, spectacular noise. Mama like.

MINI RECAP: DD/MM/YYYY = Dashingly Thunderous! Women = More Than Women To Me! Overall score: A

I’d been curious about DD/MM/YYYY (aka Day Month Year, just so you know) for a little while now, and was exceedingly pleased with the live stylings of their befuddling, bulky sound. Wishing us all a Happy Columbus Day, they thrashed through a set full of goodies. I’d call it a mish mash of the bratty spittle snarl of Black Eyes (RIP), the dark synthy rhythms of Underworld, and the general jarring, angular dissonance of what the kids might call art punk. Whatever the ingredients, the finished product was a fine little nasty wallop, and I kinda sorta really liked it. In fact, this (and really, this applies to Women, too) was probably what Heather Chandler had in mind when she uttered the immortal words, “fuck me gently with a chainsaw.” Between the deafening waves of blistering attitude and the drummer with a major case of the spazz, I was totally enamored.

The glorious insanity didn’t stop there, my friends. Oh no. For up next was the band I had been wanting to see since, well, the last time I saw them. Which, quite frankly, was far too long ago. Women, o Women. How much I love thee. “We’re gonna play songs now,” they stated, and play songs they damn well did. It was just what I had hoped it would be, the giant wall of noise tempered with the hint of melody here and there. The stark leanness of the older songs was balanced by the more structured, dare I say almost psych-influenced songs to be found on their new record. With the stridence came the loveliness, and it came as quite a pleasant surprise to hear this evolution. At times I felt as if my head might explode with the dazzling wonder of it all. Hearing my favorite of favorite Women songs, “Black Rice,” was the sweetest of cherries. The slightly sped-up, but no less killer, song is so rad to hear live that that one song pretty much made my night. These guys are straight up artists of the aural assault, turning the onslaught of noise into something almost beautiful. Having seen them a second time, I can confirm that Women is getting better. And that is almost scary.

So guess what I’m gonna tell you kids? Go see these two bands live. Seriously. It’s for your own good.

mp3: Narrow With The Hall (Women from Public Strain)