Our friend took a leak last night and slept walked out the door. We were passed out, so he had to walk to the front desk in boxer briefs to ask for a key at 4am. They asked for and ID. He doesn’t carry one in his ass crack, so he was escorted by two security guards to our room.
It’s way more crowded here this year and way tougher to get into night showcases without a badge. SxSW seems to be tightening up, to the detriment of fans. We have been denied entry to small label showcases that were empty (even after bribes). Very different from last year.
Our party is tomorrow. Will be great to meet readers and friends.
The winters in Chicago can be brutal. They seem to go on forever and the constant gray skies can really take their toll on your well-being. But as the calendar turns to March, excitement kicks in and the end of another brutal winter is near.
On this particular Friday in March, everything seemed to be going right as I headed to Shirk’s. The sky was blue and it was unseasonably warm. I opened up the moonroof, slipped on the aviators and made my way downtown to the studio, blaring Foreign Born’s Person To Person. Listening to them as the warm sun hit my face for the first time in 2010 heightened my anticipation for the session.
I’ve listened to Person To Person countless times. As Shirk and I commented to the band, it’s one of those albums that never leaves the rotation because it always feels fresh. Seeing them in studio for this session gave me an greater appreciation for the band.
Foreign Born creates a big, full sound without ever feeling cluttered. Everyone hits their marks without fail – harmonies come in perfectly every time. And then there’s Lewis on lead guitar. His playing on the album is fantastic, but seeing him live is something special. As I moved the camera around, I found myself getting stuck on him any time he was hitting a lead.
On the bad news front, Foreign Born is not going to be at SxSW 2010. On the good news front, they are going to start working on the new album. Until then, download the Foreign Born live session and enjoy the videos.
Drive-By Truckers are at a crossroads as they get set to release The Big To Do tomorrow. It’s been several years since the band released that trifecta of perfection in Southern Rock Opera, Decoration Day and The Dirty South. After Jason Isbell left the band, DBT released two solid, but unspectacular albums in A Blessing And A Curse and Brighter Than Creation’s Dark. There are some choice moments in both, but neither reached the epic heights of the aforementioned three LPs.
Having heard a couple of tunes on the web and live at shows, I had guarded optimism when I saw the tracklist. At best, I thought The Big To Do would be a slightly better, pared-down version of Brighter Then Creation’s Dark. What I got was the best Drive-By Truckers album since The Dirty South. This album lives up to Patterson Hood’s proclamation that The Big To Do is “very much a rock album, more so than anything we’ve done since Disc 2 of Southern Rock Opera.”
“The Fourth Night of My Drinking” follows a protagonist on a crazy binge as he is “headed for a fall” while John Neff plays a magical slide guitar. The song ends with Hood proclaiming “It will be through with me before I’m through with it.” I can already hear the crowds singing along with that line.
That track is immediately followed by vintage Cooley on the astounding track, “Birthday Boy.” From the first line out of Cooley’s mouth, “Which one’s the birthday boy she said ‘I ain’t got all night,’” you know you are in for a treat. Cooley and the band nail this tune as the song’s character visits a whore who pontificates on the realities of life.
The album moves along at a brisk pace with nary a missed effort and then you get “After The Scene Dies” which is an absolute gem in which Hood snarls his way through a true DBT rocker. The album then downshifts into a slow finish concluding with Hood’s “The Flying Wallendas” and Cooley’s acoustic masterpiece, “Eyes Like Glue.” When you see Cooley grab his acoustic on this tour, be prepared to have the venue come to a screeching halt.
The Big To Do lacks that ramshackle feel or SRO or Decoration Day, but its sound reflects the maturity of the musicians. The production is tighter, the bottle of Jack was left a little more full, and when it’s all said and done, it shows that Hood and Cooley can still spin a yarn as good as anybody out there today. This is a tremendous album that will please both the long-time fans of DBT and fans just stumbling across them for the first time.
The Smoking Gun has a fantastic collection of musical acts’ tour riders, which basically outline what bands require of a venue in order to play a gig there. They can ask for things like booze, meats and cheeses, Cialis, etc. Well, I went through a few of these tour riders in my spare time, and thought I’d do you a solid and share the best of the best with you. Here we go…
Creed – one of their exact requests is “one pint of Crown Royal (no larger, please)”. Not sure Scott Stapp realizes he doesn’t have to drink the whole thing.
James Brown – “professional hooded hair dryer.” I feel so cheated – I thought that coiffe was au naturale.
Michael Buble – one local team hockey puck. Not sure why.
Robin Thicke – two separate dressing rooms – one for him and one for his band. In his room he requests 1 large bottle Jack Daniels, 1 bottle Patron, 1 bottle Grey Goose, 1 bottle of Mondavi chardonnay (he’s a diva), and one case of beer. For his band? “Only 1 case of beer for band room, no liquor.” Lighten up, Mr. Seaver’s son.
Prince – A physician to administer a B-12 shot.
DMX – “Three (3) boxes of condoms.” I’m scared.
The late Johnny Cash – “An American Flag on a pole stand is required on stage in full view of the audience”. Awesome.
What would you ask for at a gig? Wouldn’t you be as ridiculous as possible? Here’s my list:
24-pack of Shasta soft drink – assorted flavors, pre-opened
One (1) Rod Stewart lookalike to roam the crowd during my performance
One (1) large banner behind the stage with a pictorial montage of Tom Cruise jumping on Oprah’s yellow couch to get the crowd hyped
One (1) fresh pair of large mesh shorts, warmed to 115 degrees Fahrenheit, delivered to me right before I hit the stage with reckless abandon
Eight (8) Jimmy Dean microwaveable breakfast sandwiches placed on a small table by my microphone, piping hot
Four (4) Snuggies for the band, 2 in leopard-print, 1 in zebra-print, 1 white, plus the free reading light for a lucky fan
The football Jake Pavelka the Bachelor threw like a girl in the first episode this season, autographed by Wes the country singer from the season before, and delivered by David Daskal from Average Joe: Hawaii
I’ve had the pleasure of owning Titus Andronicus’ The Monitor for a month now and it is has slowly worked its way into my subconscious like a slow, smoldering fire building into an out of control blaze. The comparisons to Bruce are easy enough since both are both from Jersey, but I would throw equal bits of The Pogues, The Mats and any other band that throws caution to the wind and rocks your socks off.
The Monitor is an ambitious concept album on The Civil War. It attempts to revisit the issues that led our country to that war almost 250 years ago and where we’ve gone since. It’s somewhat bizarre in its approach, but it works. And when punk-inspired bands fire out seven minute+ tunes like a blackjack dealer dealing 15’s on the subject’s first night in Vegas, well, you know you are in for something unique.
The Monitor gets better with every spin. They pay a nice little vocal nod to their elder statesman on “A More Perfect Union” and it seems that they are willing to try just about anything thereafter. Their songs can make you feel like you’re riding a 50 foot wave one moment and crashing into the rocks the next. It’s both an exhilarating and exhausting album. Tunes like Richard II and Theme From “Cheers” connect so easily that you feel the instant need to sing along without knowing the words.
I can only assume that the Jersey quintet produce quite the racket in a live setting, whipping the crowd into a frenzy. I’ll find out at SXSW next week. The band will also be at the Pitchfork festival this summer.
Dr. Dog are releasing Shame, Shame on April 6th. With the exception of The Drive-By Truckers upcoming release, this is my most anticipated album of 2010. “Stranger” is available below for your downloading pleasure.
Remember that line in As Good As It Gets when Nicholson’s character used one of the greatest panty-dropper lines of all time, “You make me want to be better man.” The Big Echo makes me want to become a better reviewer of music. The Morning Benders shine a bright light on my shortcomings as I struggle for words to describe the brilliance of Big Echo. I saw them perform for us in a HearYa Live Session. I watched them perform at our SxSW party in 2009. I listened (and loved) their previous album, Talking Through Tin Cans. At no point could I have imagined that The Morning Benders were capable of an album of this magnitude. Big Echo is an ambitious album with flawless execution.
We posted the video for “Excuses” when it was released and I was slackjawed. Talk about trying to drive the green in one stroke. Lead Singer, Chris Chu, pulled the big stick out of his bag and knocked that shit long, straight, and right on the green. The LP was produced with the help of Chris Taylor (Grizzly Bear) who apparently saw something special in the Bay Area quartet. I would have loved to hear Chu and Taylor’s conversations as they discussed the nuances and intricacies that made each song sound so sonically creative. At its core, Big Echo is a pop record. It’s also a statement album by a band that will be on everybody’s top of 2010 lists.
The standout tracks for me include the aforementioned Excuses, Cold War (Nice Clean Fight) and Stitches. The piano on Stitches dances right up my spine as the Grizzly Bear influenced harmonies lull me into a state of bliss before the piano gives way to shimmery guitars as the song fades out. It was just so fucking brilliant that there is no way my words can do it justice.
So in the end, I wish I could do a better job of explaining the overwhelming genius on this album. I promise to try to better in the future but for now please trust me when I tell you if you buy this album. You won’t regret it. On every listen, you will find something new to keep your head spinning in wonderment. And that is no easy feat.
For anyone that’s been reading for the past several years, you know that Port O’Brien is one of my favorite bands. Threadbare was one of our favorite albums from 2009 and POB just released one of the sleeper singles on the album, “Leap Year.” If you’ve ignored them in the past, I highly recommend digging into their three albums and catch a live show.
Who said indie music couldn’t be catchy and accessible? Certainly not Free Energy, a Philadelphia-based quintet by way of Minneapolis. Their debut album from DFA Records, Stuck on Nothing, is a real rocking beauty. And it’s been earning them considerable ink in the blogosphere, making them one of the big buzz bands of SxSW 2010.
I’m probably looking at things too simply, but sometimes it seems like the only bands that get critical acclaim in the indie music world are the quirky ones who throw a lot of weird noises into their music for the sake of trying to come across as ‘complicated’. Always struck me as an “Emperor’s New Clothes” type thing. Can’t I just listen to some old school, catchy rock and roll every once in a while? Well, thanks to Free Energy, now I can.
The album cover was the first clue that this would be music that was going to stick in my brain – it shows a pair of Chucks with a rainbow on them stepping in bubblegum. My first thought was, “Is this a Punky Brewster DVD, or a rock album?” And these guys had the gumballs to open the album with the sound of COWBELL, for goodness sake. Gotta respect that.
And you know what? They absolutely pull the whole thing off! Stuck on Nothing is outstanding – bright electric guitars, great hooks, drum beats that make you want to shake your rump (they even threw some hand claps in there for Oz), and guitar riffs that make you want to slam a domestic light beer and do a perfectly-tucked cannonball into a pool. Trust me, that description actually makes sense. At least to me it does.
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