Recap: Magic Slim and Joanna Connor at Kingston Mines

The night was fraught with the weary skittishness that comes with holiday vacationing. Trying to fit in as many friends and family into five days led to endless coming and going, and by Friday night, day after Thanksgiving, I was a bit worn out. Kingston Mines seemed like the perfect night out with my two best friends and our special lady friends. Unfortunately, I was too distant to fully enjoy the music, and the music was distracting enough that I never found my conversational groove.

Coming away from it, I had one thing to ponder. What is the ideal blues club? Kingston Mines is tucked into a busy section of Chicago's north side and it's two expansive rooms assure attendees that they will spend the entire time listening to the blues. The walls are adorned with the typical blues hall chicanery: memorabilia, alcohol reminders, and off beat tomfoolery. The point is to let patrons forget they are in a place of business and encourage them to feel they are viewing authentic blues.

Sure, Magic Slim brought it. His guitar work was sharp and distinct. The vocals were energetic. As said, I just wasn't in the mood to sink into the mindset needed. Joanna Connor had fury and passion that brought me into the music and closest to the feeling one desires when they step into a blues hall. They were both much more than adequate at their craft, and if I see them on a bill on the right night they might blow me away.

Missed: Toro y Moi

Last night, I didn't feel like going to a show. The social energy of summer is gone. Maybe it has something to do with the disappointment of Friday, but I spent the prime hours of the evening removing an item from my Netflix cue: Fantastic Mr. Fox.

Around 11, I decided to go for a walk. It was a fantastic night, brisk without being cold, and basked in fog. My walk brought me towards the Bluebird, and I decided to check in on Toro y Moi. A few smokers and security types ambled around the front door, so I couldn't just walk in. I asked the lady at the box office if Toro y Moi was on soon. Come and gone she replied. Whose on now then? Nosaj Thing she said.

Apparently, a dj called Nosaj Thing headlined above Toro y Moi. I don't know who put that tour together, but they need to get their act together. Toro y Moi is a low ranked contender with at least one fantastic song, "Low Shoulder." Admittedly, I am not a rapturous fan of Toro y Moi--that's also part of my decision to pass on the show--but Nosaj Thing sounds like a focused 12 year old with a Casio and glue addiction. Their album, which Pfork deemed 7.9 (WTF), is called Drift. You don't say.

It might have been worth it, as voyeurism can be, just to see what the inside of the Bluebird looked and felt like. Were there actually people in the shadows huffing glue out of paper bags? I don't know, but that's the picture that comes to my head. I guess he would have spent some time daddling with remixes, but come on. There is a lot of music well suited for concerts.

Concert Recap: "Candy Claws" at Hi Dive

I love Hidden Lands, the new Candy Claws album. I love letting it spin slowly on my record player when I need to completely zone out. Its sounds are defined by their ability to transport the listener to otherworldly places like mystic rain forests and alpine lakes. My favorite concerts are defined by guitar-heavy danceability. Because this is far from Candy Claws palette and my worries about sound mesh, I did not expect sweaty gratification when Lizzie and I set out for the Hi Dive last night.

Truthfully, I was prime for a great experience. Not only did I have low expectations, I had spent several hours oiling up with Stone IPA and Fat Sully's Pizza and another drink at the Hornet. I had that slightly intoxicated, upbeat energy that makes concerts a lot more fun.

My slight worries about a line at the door or even a sell out were badly mistaken. The Hi Dive crowd was just better than sparse. This still surprises me, because Candy Claws has been blog buzzing and playing Denver a lot. Maybe anyone that wanted to check them out already did, or maybe, as Lizzie said, just because the blogs love a band doesn't mean a lot of people do too. Or maybe word got out that this was a "special" show according to their front man. At any rate, we arrived just before they came onstage and had no trouble procuring drinks from the lone bartender who was cleaning glasses surrounded by a heavy air of boredom. We took our places in the cave.

The first thing I noticed was the lack of instruments on stage. I did not give this as much thought as I should have, because I was transfixed by the generic laptop sitting on the little stand. I did not realize musicians used computers other than Macs. Then two guys came out wearing humdrum masks with weird beards attached. The front man was polite enough. "Most of our band couldn't be here tonight. We're going to play a special early Candy Claws set," or some such is what he said. Him and his friends proceeded to play a somewhat catchy, wordless drone of rock sound. According to their twitter page, it was a "Two Airships / Exploder Falls set!" I have no idea what that means, but it should stay in the basements of Fort Collins. Lizzie and I lasted half of her drink and then skedaddled.

It's fine for bands to play DJ or PA sets, but the Hi Dive made no such notation on their website. The Hi Dive manager seemed as surprised as we were that there weren't keyboards and drums onstage. Not cool Candy Claws, not cool. You're still cool though, so hopefully we have a chance to make up soon. The thing is that if I don't like a bands live show it makes it hard for me to listen to them and I don't know where I will find another record that takes me as far away as Hidden Lands does.

Concert Preview: Candy Claws at the Hi Dive

Candy Claws sounds like drinking absinthe in an inner tube on an alpine lake.



A show at the Hi Dive is the closest thing Denver offers to seeing a band inside a cave.

After albums based on forests and oceans, a caves album might be the next step for Candy Claws; may I suggest At the Edge of the World: Caves and Late Classic Maya Worldview.

Because their sound is somewhere between headphones dilettante and high country soundscape, I am worried that a performance at the Hi Dive might sound like the juice boosted blares of a five year old unleashed upon a Casio for the first time.

My hope is that after months of hard touring, they've reined in their sound and found a way to make it fit in the boxy interior of our countries Pabst friendly clubs.

Autumn Update #1

Somehow writing about Kanye made me stop blogging. Or it was work. Or vacation. But it was Kanye. He has been in the news ceaselessly for six months and in all that time he has not released a fully satisfying track, not managed to release his long delayed, still stupidly named new album. Sometimes I think I should blog music like Deadspin. Other times I know I should pick a focus area like vinyl or live music, but that also has its limitations.

Then, on nights like this, wearing a hoodie and listening to Aretha Franklin I just feel like writing.

This is a bit of a dead period for music. I haven't seen a concert in a few weeks even though there have been chances. Two Door Cinema Club at the Bluebird may have been an enjoyable experience. I didn't even strongly consider it though. When I went to the record store last weekend, I bought Mumford & Sons, Candy Claws, and White Stripes. Only Candy Claws could be deemed timely. Even Pitchfork hasn't found Best New Music in over a month.

Still, in a way, it is a great time to reconnect with music. The fervor of the summer, with its litany of festivals and plethora of buzz bands is distant in the rear view. Sleigh Bells already feels like nostalgia. It is a great time to appreciate the new bands and reacquaint with the standbys.

In the upcoming weeks, I will likely see Candy Claws, Toro y Moi, and Tame Impala. I plan to have a Radiohead vinyl listening party. I will try to write about my live experiences with LCD Soundsystem and Gorillaz. A lot of other things might happen too. Maybe Kanye will even release his damn record.

Is Kanye West desperate or blind?

I love at least two Kanye albums, so for the last several months, I have been trying not to dismiss him after what I have viewed as an implosion of his previously strong taste. It started with the laughable, now-canceled album title, "Good Ass Job." It continued with the average "Power," which is "Godfather III" on the heels of "Gold Digger" and "Stronger."

Now, Ye seems a master of social media after his recent, insanely clever stunt.



However, he is also premium fodder and the blogilatti knows better than to bite the hand that feeds it. Do you think Pfork, Perez, or PMA want Ye to go away? Who looks cooler after watching the Youtube videos, the guy rapping without a beat, or the Twitter and Facebook employees?

Rapping a Capella at Twitter and Facebook is, on the face, courageous, and the lyrics to "Mama's Boyfriend" are brave and revelatory. I think his sense of humor mainly redeems his steadfast ego on the above video, which gives me renewed hope for his album. No doubt, tracks with beats will begin leaking soon, and we will find out if holistic genius or pursuit of celebrity is motivating him these days.

The General Consensus

The General Consensus (previously the poorly named HAWT List) is a page that ranks current music. I will focus on why these artists have particular relevance to Denver, but the rankings are based on my viewpoint of the general national consensus of music writers, music fans (those that are my friends), record stores, etc. If you feel I missed something or am far off, feel free to comment or make your own list in the thus far rightfully ignored comments section.

1. Arcade Fire - Playing at Madison Square Garden, the jewel of our nation's cultural center, suggests Arcade Fire have transcended silly indie rock labels and become one of America's Favorite Rock Bands. But, perhaps to solidify that reputation, they have eschewed touring non-coastal cities. Does this mean they don't think Middle America is ready for their ambition on a grand scale? Is it a shrewd marketing move? Or am I just impatient?



Arcade Fire - Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains) by user39221


2. Big Boi - Sir Lucius is the perfect change up for your flannel rock rotation.

3. Best Coast - Listening to Best Coast is like smoking a cigarette. An initial buzz, the risk of addiction, and then self disgust. They play the Bluebird in November, which will be a good time and place to sell snap bracelets to tweensters.

4. Band of Horses - Making an awkward jump from cult adoration to mainstream ambition placed Infinite Arms next to the register at Starbucks and on a featured shelf at Twist and Shout. They played the best 2010 show I've seen at the Ogden. They move up to the Fillmore in the Fall, which mainly means LoDo Bros will be in attendance.

5. Candy Claws - From Colorado's apparent hipster capitol, Fort Collins, they grace the Hi-Dive Friday and are beginning to transition from "a dreampop band from Colorado" to Our DreamPop Band. Their new album is the perfect soundtrack for someone drinking absinthe on an inflatable raft on an alpine lake.

6. Black Keys - They played the best show I've yet seen in my year long residence in Denver in early June. Brothers has continued to sell at Twist and Shout, and they continue to grace the late night circuit. Their tunes are wholesome, durable, and ideal for vinyl appreciation or mountain driving.



7. LCD Soundsystem - The LCD show with Hot Chip this fall may be an unprecedented Hipster Carnival. Also, they have a fabulous Pandora station.


Simmering: MIA (no longer blowing minds), The Roots (because they always are), Lady Gaga (ok, she could also be #1 on this list, but I don't really feel like writing about Lady Gaga; but I don't mind listening to her music)

Waiting List: Crystal Castles (Ogden next week), Mastodon (is there still good metal?),

Pondering Arcade Fire and The Rings of Interest

I spent the last three days with my closest group of friends preparing for and celebrating a wedding in upstate New York. A few years back, four members of the group lived together and played lengthy midnight rambles. Some of us are very musically gifted, others are not, but these rambles were fully participatory, which gave them an intimacy and emotional power unlike other musical experiences. As I watched Arcade Fire tonight, it seemed to me that every member of the band was playing with this high level of purpose and emotional energy.

I arrived in Boston today, and hung out in Cambridge with my friend Scott. Scott is one of my favorite concert buddies and an endorser of Arcade Fire to me. We met up with his friends at a place called Whiskey Priest, so that by the time we arrived at the venue I had several Harpoon IPAs in my stomach. Boston was perfect, with a cool breeze and the smell of the open sea. The Bank of America Pavilion is a small, concrete ampitheatre--our seats were on the outer rim pavilion in the right corner--however while Arcade Fire played I did not feel in the nosebleeds.

My anticipation for the show has been building for several weeks, and I have spent time listening to Arcade Fire's music, especially the newer songs. After "Ready to Start" and "Month of May" I was howling and feeling fine. I was also sending jubilant texts and discussing with Scott and his friends. Erin, with whom I attended Bonaroo '09, and I decided that at some point we would move down closer.

For me, the whole point was to be in the middle of it for "Wake Up." I have heavy respect for Arcade Fire, and I enjoy their new songs, but "Wake Up" was going to be the emotional peak of the show for me; the only time to have a fully visceral experience; so, I wanted to be in the best possible spot for it. After "Rebellion," our group tramped down to the midway point of the covered seats, only settling into a spot when we were rebuffed by a cadre of security.

During the first song of the encore, a small camera crew walked down the aisle swiftly. I grabbed Erin by the hand, and we followed the crew along the right side of the seats to the front. As we walked, the opening chords of "Wake Up" started. Anticipation swelled. The camera crew stopped near the front edge of the stage.

"That's Terry Gilliam," Erin said.
"He doesn't like to be touched," said the P.A. as I tapped him on the shoulder.

We did not last long in this position, but luckily the security acted passively. We went back to our group and the gray area between the aisle and seats; Scott later claimed there was an invisible line we were not supposed to cross. As I listened to "Wake Up," I fell into a deep passion, singing and dancing until my voice became one with Arcade Fire.

Cruising Lake Erie with Hall and Oates

I visit my mom's stone cottage on Lake Erie for a week every summer. She lives in a private circle, on Catawba Island in north central Ohio, that has two driving forces: 1) Slow-burn partying and 2) Carefree attitude. Most of the inhabitants are at least semi-retired and live on island time, which means drinking can start at 10 A.M. and boat rides are just as prevalant as car rides.

Two houses down from my mom is Mike and Mary's summer place. They are fun loving, slightly preppy socializers, and their presence always makes my visits more fun. One morning this week, Mike walked over and said, "We're going out on the boat. If you want to come we're leaving in 15 minutes." We did. The lake was choppy, the boat was fast, and the breeze and spray were refreshing.

After dropping off a pair of stone glass earrings, nearly obliterating a dock of kayaks, taking a long swim, and consuming a few adult beverages, we headed back to Catawba. Mary uncovered the boat's speakers, Mike plugged in his Shuffle, and we unexpectedly had a soundtrack.The first three songs were tunes from Abandoned Luncheonette , the first major Hall and Oates album.



The only Hall and Oates song I know is "Maneater," so I had to ask who it was.

"Oh, this, it's Hall and Oates," Mary said, maybe with a twinge of embarrassment.
"Oh, really? Nice," I replied.
"Kellen just loves music," my mom filled in.
"Oh, well, we used to love Hall and Oates back in college," Mary said, enjoying the reflection now that she knew I wasn't hoping for something more modern.
"Oh yeah," I said calculating years mischievously. "Did you ever see them live?"
"Oh yeah, five or six times," Mary answered.
"Only cost three dollars back then," Mike added from behind the wheel. "We saw them at the Bowling Green Student Union."

Five years ago, I would have scorned Hall and oates, but it sounded good on the boat. Is their sound permeating music now more than it did five years ago? Or is their just something about sunshine, cold lager, and breeze that made my ears greet "She's Gone" more affectionately. I didn't have too long to ponder. As that third song began, Mary yelled up to Mike, "Put something new on honey." He obliged. The next track, "My Humps," started blaring.

New Concerts Announced

On the eve of a show I am sad to miss, several upcoming shows have been announced to pacify me. Frank and Lizzie are going to The New Pornographers w/ The Dodos, while I chill in my mom's cottage on the shore of Lake Erie. This is the pain of taking a vacation from Denver; if you are gone for a week or more, you are bound to miss a good show.

The biggest announcement is Gorillaz at Wells Fargo Theatre on the same day as Of Montreal and Janelle Monae. That's an enticingly small venue for Gorillaz, and a giant conflict for me. I already had my heart set on the Of Montreal show. There's also the impossibly distant Best Coast w/ Sonny and the Sunsets at the Bluebird. I'm not sure how much Best Coast's new album will grow on me though, now that the first wave of hype has been capitulated by Pfork's BNM designation. Did Pfork feel forced to hand that out?

On the wings of Paul McCartney

We rolled up to the Pepsi Center V.I.P. valet and six people tumbled out of my Yaris into a thicket of Audis and Mercedes. Zolla had obtained a parking pass. We were drinking Dr. Jack out of soda fountain cups. A first class operation.

Normally, I avoid expensive arena shows, but Lizzie scored six free Paul McCartney tickets from work. We were thinking nosebleeds, but as I ducked into our section my eyes lit up. Our seats were in the center of the arena, about ten rows off the floor. Because of a kickball game, we had just enough time to settle into our seats and gawk at each other in disbelief before Paul came out to thunderous applause.

I wasn't raised on the Beatles like some lucky souls and they've never been my absolute favorite band, but they do have a permanent place in my top ten. Once I started buying vinyl, my love solidified. I would sit for hours in Memphis listening to and discussing their records with my roommate Chris. I mainly went to this show to be able to say I've seen Paul McCartney. I also saw Ringo's All Starr Band at the Taste of Chicago. You only get so many chances.

Paul starts his shows with about a dozen of his solo songs. I don't know these at all, but they were entertaining. His talented band mainly jammed out of Paul's way, but the animated, crooning drummer, Abe Loriel was having the time of his life and held my attention for long stretches. There was also a mustachioed wild man dancing about five rows back, who continually bounded up and down the steps in pure ecstasy. These displays of passion provided the vital energy the show needed to go beyond just being a museum exhibit.

While the first section of the show was going on, we talked a lot about the songs we wanted to hear: Kathy wanted to hear her favorite Beatles song, "Yesterday," but we couldn't quite remember if it was a John or Paul song. Kyle, maybe jokingly, wondered if they would play "Band on the Run." I was hoping for "Lady Madonna" and someone else wanted to hear "Blackbird."

They slowly eased that way with "The Long and Winding Road," then "Blackbird," which got us out of our seats for the first time. The final half of the three hour show was mainly dedicated to Beatles tunes, punctuated by a six song double encore. The first was quick and refreshing (Daytripper, Get Back, Lady Madonna). The second thoroughly fulfilled any wishes for the evening. Kathy received "Yesterday." The awesome you-are-there video of a rollercoaster for "Helter Skelter" perfectly blended new and old technology. And the show ended with "Sgt. Peppers/The End."

Seeing a nostalgia act has been a mixed bag for me. The cream of this crop is polished, sober, and rich enough to do what they want on stage. Paul acted as if he were on a long victory lap and we were all lucky to be there. He's Paul fucking McCartney. He can do what he wants. And if he wants to play for three hours, tell a dozen anecdotes and jokes, use pyro-technics, and generally act as if we were all in the world's biggest parlor instead of a giant stone box, well, then, we were all lucky to be there. I saw Eric Clapton last summer with Steve Winwood and he didn't say a word to the crowd.

Converse - All Summer (Corporate Synergy!)

In our fractured listening environment, how do artists gain and retain notice? Artists spend their summers logging long miles on the endless festival circuit, but their inclusion in a bout of corporate synergy can sustain them like a monk with a bushel full of nettles.

Like Converse's "Three Artist.One Song" project, which does what it says, then hosts an event of further promotion. Plus, now I know what shoes to buy.

Does this sully artistic integrity? Who cares if the song is good.

Set Times: Mile High Music Fest

The Mile High Music Festival daily schedule has been released. Some mild conflicts, although the chance to see DBT, MMJ, RRE, and DMB on Sunday allows me to fulfill all my acronym fantasies.

There is a Cougar Stage, but no Puma Stage. Is that sexist?

?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

Just Announced: JJ Grey and Mofro with Black Joe Lewis and the Honeybears

Three years ago, I saw JJ Grey and Mofro on a sleepy night in Memphis. Mofro's mix of swampy North Florida soul and juke joint funk gave two of my friends a reason to call in sick to work the next day. He downed several glasses of bourbon, hurled dollar bills at his horn section, and pushed his band over the bridge song after song. We shook our asses and hollered for more. JJ Mofro could put two steps into a paraplegic, so if you like dance parties don't miss them.

JJ Grey and Mofro will tour this fall with Black Joe Lewis and the Honeybears, our generation's hipster James Brown. The two bands will play Colorado five times including a Friday night stop at the Ogden on September 17.







Check the "Looking Forward To" page for other upcoming shows in Denver.

!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

Pitchfork Music Festival Awards

I rolled down to Pitchfork Music Festival Saturday and Sunday with my step-sister Austyn. We happily used public transportation, and we weren't alone. Each day, the Metra was packed with obvious Pitchfork attendees, including our favorites, Gage and the uber-hipster who spent 20 minutes Saturday tying his shoelaces just right. The Green Line was even more crowded with hipsters, and apparently tons of people rode bikes. Pitchfork did a great job putting on a true city fest with cheap tickets and minimal carbon footprint. Now, to the awards.

Best Line: "I'm sweating more than a pregnant nun standing in line to meet the Pope."

Energetic, bearded and history conscious Titus Andronicus frontman Patrick Stickles let this slip during one of his stream of consciousness bouts of banter. Titus Andronicus' hard and heavy set provided a needed jolt on Saturday, but this award is really for the Pitchfork Festival organizers. This is one of the best organized festivals I've ever been at. Using a tiny space to its maximum power by alternating side by side main stages and tucking a third, smaller stage behind the food tents, Pitchfork ensured that fans could easily see at least part of pretty much every performance if they were so inclined. The food and water were cheap, porta potties clean, and hassles non-existent. Even the too-long free-water line had a solid view of the Aluminum Stage. On a hot and humid Chicago weekend, Pitchfork deserves serious props for keeping everyone safe and happy.

Best Rock Band: Wolf Parade

Pfest was dominated by chillwave and electronica infused bands. There were a few blasts from the past and some hip hop mixed in. However, there were only a few pure rock bands. Wolf Parade's blistering jam on set ending "Kissing the Beehive" proved you don't need a laptop to rock.

Best Mass Exodus: From Panda Bear to LCD Soundsystem

I spent about twenty minutes at a disastrous Animal Collective set at Bonnaroo a few years back, so I didn't have high expectations for Panda Bear. However, I was curious and hopeful. However, Panda Bear only played one thing that I would classify as an actual song; the primary sound he emitted was more of an ambient buzz. Within ten minutes, hordes of people began to leave the Connector Stage to jockey for position at the Aluminum Stage next to it. Rumor has it, Panda Bear gets terrible stage fright and played the entire set with his eyes closed. Apologists say, "It's headphones music." Then don't play at a music festival.

Best Dance Party: "Daft Punk is Playing at My House"

LCD Soundsystem came out in attack mode. With disco ball turning, lights flashing, and the occasional glow stick flying, the first half of LCD's set produced a gyrating mess of dancing bodies. The band was tight and rocking. This was my first time seeing LCD and they brought the party. The peak for me was "My House," because it's my favorite LCD song and it came near the crest of that first wave of dance party goodness.

Best Evidence of Non-Hipsters: Crowd Surfing

Everyone has been 17 and wanting to crowd surf. People want to have fun and crowd surfing seems like fun. I even tried to convince Austyn to crowd surf. The Pfest crowd surfers didn't bother me as long as they followed two rules: the weight limit for a crowd surfer is 175 pounds and the age limit is 17. If you break one of these rules you are an asshole. If you break both, it is my right to grab a hold of your ankle and pull your fat old ass to the ground.

During live music, hipsters are supposed to stand still and occasionally nod their head. Is it a grand surprise, though, that Pfork's brand is becoming mainstream?

Best Reason to Throw a Water Bottle: Idiots dry humping on recycling bins

The only thing that aggravated me the entire weekend was the cluster of morons dry humping on a recycling bin during the second part of LCD. I could have pushed my way to another spot, but then I'm the asshole. When one of these idiots turned away from the stage and took out his iPhone, I pegged him with my water bottle from twenty five yards away. Right in the chest. Almost knocked the iPhone out of his hand. I was proud of my accuracy, but pissed he didn't take the message.

Best Peaked Trend: Neon-stem sunglasses

I lost mine white-water rafting last week and I won't buy another pair. The dizzying amount of blue, green, and especially orange (my color!) stems was stomach curdling.

Best Impending Trend: Jorts

Maybe this will quickly peak, but I can't get enough of the cut-offs. My only hope is that people are wearing these in the spirit of Tobias Funke. If not, I can't support them.

Best Sharon Osbourne Recruiting Target: Lightning Bolt

I'm not sure if Ozzfest still happens, but if it does, Lightning Bolt should be there every year. Lightning Bolt is a masked, insanely propulsive drummer and a bored dude making guitar fuzz. I've never seen drumming so persistent and even from the distance, I was a bit scared.

Best Stage: Balance Stage on Sunday

After rotating from stage to stage on Saturday, Austyn and I stayed under the shady oak trees of the B Stage most of the day. We missed Best Coast and Washed Out, but arrived just in time for Local Natives.

My expectations were too high, and Local Natives only half delivered. I wanted "Sun Hands" to be bigger and bolder. I was hoping for Aged Cheddar and got Colby.

Surfer Blood was accessible and breezy--an ideal afternoon fest set.

Here We Go Magic overcame their lame name with on-stage camraderie and Jennifer Turner's head bobbing bass lines.

Neon Indian was locked in and delivered waves of sound and flamboyance.

Then Sleigh Bells.

Toughest Decision: Sleigh Bells vs. Big Boi

Sleigh Bells is the sexiest new thing. Big Boi is royalty. Both were parties. When Major Lazer sampled "Riot Rhythm" my decision was made.

Second place: Local Natives vs. Beach House

Best Mosh Pit: Sleigh Bells

Visceral. It was so not-loud that the crowd chanted LOUDER after the first song. Alexis: "You want it louder?" YEAHHH. Austyn said she couldn't really hear her singing. Derek is only onstage so people remember it's a two person act. But, that was far and away, the most fun I had all weekend. Visceral.

During Neon Indian, Austyn and I ran into Gage who led us on a charge to about the tenth row, where we hit an unmoveable mass of devotees. We waited patiently as Alexis traipsed around the stage in pink sunglasses. The sound check for Sleigh Bells should take two minutes, but it took twenty. Then my brain stopped complaining.

From the first note of "Tell 'Em" until the last beat of "Crown on the Ground" a jubilant mosh pit erupted in crushing pandemonium. There was one girl incredibly barefoot, and a couple kids trying to escape, but everyone else was happy to be in the hyper-kinetic mass. Austyn lost her sunglasses, but recovered them, perfectly intact, except missing both lenses. We emerged soaked in sweat and beaming. I was still buzzing 15 minutes later.

Best Moment of Honesty: "Do you guys have our album? Because it's only 32 minutes long; we don't have anything else to play."

Allison poured her heart into the performance, even stage diving during closer "Crown on the Ground. But when the crowd chanted for "One More Song," she ashamedly apologized to us before leaving the stage. They didn't have any song to play for an encore, and this is why I chose to see them over Big Boi. I don't know what they can do for an encore.

Best Reason to shop for records, sit under a tree, and leave a song early: Pavement

Pavement after Sleigh Bells was like chasing a shot of Bacardi 151 with a cup of orange juice. Pavement sounded great, but I went to Pfest for the zeitgeist not a greatest hits album.

HAWT LIST #Another new page

So, of course you want to know what I think is hot in the world of hip music, huh? Of course you do. I am starting another new page called the HAWT LIST. It's like rankings.

1. Big Boi - The anticipation for Sir Lucius has been building like a pack of bees on a jar of spilled honey. Starting with "Shutterbug" then "Tightrope" I have neither wanted nor been able to get Big Boi's stuff out of my head. A total sonic separation from dre3 makes the vivid genius more apparent, and thus more addictive. Upon the actual release, all expectations were eclipsed and hopes fulfilled.



2. MIA - For all the grandiose demonstration, I currently could care less about MIA's new music. I wouldn't say it's sagging like a couch on a college house's porch, but the ooh and ahhh factor might have left ol' MIA behind; shock factor still present. **Update: I gave it another long listen in a different state of mind, and holy shit, I will be listening a third time. Like right now.

3. Wavves - Nathan Williams is a classic demonstration of how easy idiotic self promotion and clever genre positioning can carry you a long way. Take a sample chorus: "I'm an idiot/I'd say I'm sorry/But it wouldn't mean shit." This works great as the hook to a Sum 41 song, but that would have deprived them of their priceless One Hit Wonder tag. Look, if he just played as "Nathan Williams" no one would give a shit.

4. Janelle Monae - It's too soon to tell how much growing power she has, but she has the diva quality to sustain a continuous, simmering HAWTNESS from this moment forward. I will have a beer in my hand and a rail spot in the middle of the first balcony before she goes on at the Ogden this fall.

5. Dirty Projectors - This might be late. I think there might have been more words written about the release of Mount Wittenberg, than Mount Wittenberg itself. If you haven't listened yet, let's change that.



6. Best Coast - Yeah, I admit it, next time I am in L.A. I will seek out a surfwave show.



7. Panda Bear - The buzz is just a little more than a trickle now, but that is about to change. Animal Collective may have shaved some of PB's rough edges from his experimentalism letting the Brian Wilson backbone of his sensibility poke through a little more. And Pitchfork is in a week.

(Waiting list: ceo, ariel pink-meh)

(Still simmering: Broken Bells, Sleigh Bells, cowbells-not, the roots-because they always are)

?!?!?!?!?!?!

Upcoming Shows

If you spend your time wondering how Muse has enough fans to play the Pepsi Center or lying to yourself that you don't want to go see Lady Gaga, I started a new page to list the upcoming Denver shows I am most looking forward to. Don't buy tickets before me though, that'd just be an asshole move. Or buy one for me. Yes, that's the move.

My list hardly includes the work week ruining run at the Ogden Theatre starting on Sunday, August 8: Hot Chip-->Crystal Castles-->Temper Trap-->Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes-->Blitzen Trapper. They better be handing out free 5 Hour Energy samples.

Here are some videos:









Yes, that Hot Chip joint reminds me of a Backstreet Boys video too. Hilarity.

Film on the Rocks...

Tuesday night I went to Film on the Rocks. We left halfway through Raising Arizona, when it started to rain, but before that were treated to the best music showcase Red Rocks has to offer this year: Grace Potter and Danielle Ate the Sandwich.

If you don't know, Danielle Ate the Sandwich is Youtube sensation, Lilith Fair ready Fort Collins resident Danielle Anderson playing ukulele. I commented that her music was a bit twee, which got a look of disapproval from Lizzie. Although I didn't like her subdued tunes, I would like to share a bagel and coffee with Danielle, who seemed like a rambling conversationalist. Plus, it's just cool that she's playing ukulele.

I was really pumped for Grace Potter and the Nocturnals. She has great pipes and a rawk girl attitude. Plus, she is backed by three longhairs straight out of Almost Famous and a bumping female bassist. I was wowed by them at a festival a few years back. They rocked, and the tunes were danceable, but I spent the whole night waiting for them to play their old songs, and they never did. It seems to me that they are a little to purposefully put together; Grace Potter definitely has the talent to hit it somewhat big, but right now the sound is halfway between corporate crowd pleasing and organic jam session. This is a tough tightrope to walk successfully (see: Robert Randolph and the Family Band).

The dichotomy here is between the glorified DIY and the constructed band. I don't know if this even matters. Danielle's set was more natural. Grace's was a bit erratic, as if she was throwing songs at the dartboard that is corporate radio, hoping one would stick. Her band's talents superseded Danielle's tenfold, but if music isn't coming from a place of passion, I will ultimately dismiss it.

Get The Led Out

I used to love listening to music on the radio. Mainly in high school. Right after I got my driver's license. Before I started thinking and listening independently. Nowadays, I still listen occasionally, when I'm on a drive and it's not worth the time to choose. I still embrace at least one corporate rock convention, and have adopted it as my own. Sometimes, I still gotta GET THE LED OUT!

Now is such a time--I'm typing as "Dazed and Confused" is about to start on Side 1 of one of my dustiest vinyls--and it reminds me of a story.

Back in the college days, when I was prowling the streets of Madison like an alley cat, a few of my buddies and I were holed up at the Plaza Tavern. This was probably a Wednesday night in the dead of summer, because there weren't but us, a dozen other patrons, and two bartenders present.

After a beer or two, I filled the jukebox and picked my four songs. My second selection was "Babe I'm Gonna Leave You." Just as the rolling thunder melted into Robert Plant's howl, one of the bartenders skipped the song. I didn't even know they could do that.

Me: Did you just skip the song.
Barkeep: Yeah.
Me: Why?
Barkeep: Now is not the time for that song.
Me: What? There's never a bad time for Led Zeppelin.
Barkeep: Well I don't want to hear it.

I was out of my booth at this point. It wouldn't have been the first time I was given the boot from the plaza, but I managed to sedate myself after ten seconds of glare down. Instead of a screaming match, I took my seat, enjoyed the next song, then put another dollar into the jukebox and played "Babe I'm Gonna Leave You" four straight times. After skipping it twice, and jeers from the entire bar, the barkeep finally let it play and I won. If you count paying $1.50 to hear "Babe I'm Gonna Leave You" as victory. Which on that night, I did.

Live Show: The Builders and the Butchers at the Hi-Dive

Things seen and heard on-stage during The Builders and the Butchers at the Hi-Dive last night: an Epcot T-shirt with Mickey Mouse on it, an old West mustache, two maniacally rhythmic drummers, a megaphone, never nude cutoffs, a trombone, and an electric banjo with wings. And on the floor, courtesy of the band: a rotating cast of a dozen audience members playing tambourines, maracas, and clappers.

Oh, and of course, rip roaring, whiskey swigging, indie folk.

I love bands that sweat harder than sweaty crowds. If you are seeing Heartless Bastards this summer, and you should, do not miss the opening band.

New Music: The Pass - "Colors"

I never want my summer playlist to become stale, so I was happy to find out about The Pass. Their songs are confident and fun enough to fit in at any dance party. Their EP has been out for months, but they don't have a proper website yet, so listen to their other songs on The Pass MySpace page.

Sleigh Bells: The Perfect Summer Fling

The word on Sleigh Bells is that they are "loud." Bracing is a more accurate word, because it doesn't just describe the music, but how it makes the listener feel, which is essential to understanding Treats. After the songs seeped into my synapses, I found myself craving them. Even though I'm trying to only buy music on vinyl, I had to download it today, since, record label, N.E.E.T. is apparently too Ma and Pa to give the best album of the year a proper LP release. I couldn't keep waiting to crank Treats as I drive around Denver.



The problem for Sleigh Bells is that they can never be bracing again. After a band explodes with a new sound, they can neither successfully repeat it, since their sound has become familiar; nor change it, since expectations have already been set. In some cases, they can perfect it; as Eminem did after The Slim Shady LP, but ever since, he has been trying, impossibly, to recapture the exhilaration of Marshall Mathers.

Sleigh Bells are the perfect summer fling. This music must be enjoyed now; not that it is going away, but because as it becomes familiar it will lose its magic.

Portland produces more than indie rock

At a party last night I was talking with a friend about Radiohead. She said that when you are lucky enough to see Radiohead you want to be as sober as possible so that you can thoroughly absorb and retain their music. I will keep this in mind if they ever come Stateside again. I am guessing sober states of mind will not be the case for patrons at the Hi Dive when The Builders and the Butchers play Wednesday night.



Obsessed with supernatural obstacles and the magic hiding behind mundane masks, the Builders and the Butchers create folk grooves that make me think of whiskey on the rocks and arms around my friends shoulders howling along with the chorus. If you are a fan of groove folk, drunken dancing, or just need a break from drum machines and laptop bands, they will cleanse your palette and refresh your faith in organic instrumentation.

After the Hi Dive show, the Builders and the Butchers will serve as the perfect opener on a lengthy tour with Heartless Bastards playing basically every city east of the Mississippi. Also, here is a fun and silly fan video.

Devil Town - Music Video - The Builders and the Butchers from Victoria Cook on Vimeo.

Free Download: Of Montreal "Coquet, Coquette"

I just gave Of Montreal's new song "Coquet Coquette" a listen. It will be on their upcoming album False Priest along with two songs featuring Janelle Monae! They will also be touring with Monae, but only a few East Coast dates have trickled out. I would say August 25 at the Fillmore makes a lot of sense for Denver fans looking to save a date.

Every month or so I give an Of Montreal album a spin; I've never formed a strong like or dislike though. Maybe this is because I don't listen on headphones like ringleader Kevin Barnes suggests. In an interview with Pitchfork, Barnes recently said False Priest might be a more rage ready record. This would delight me, although I'm not going to depend on it for late summer spins around the beach parking lot just yet.

Since Of Montreal crafts their identity with elements of the freak/spazz culture (see artwork), their relative popularity and lack of polarity is strange. Even The Flaming Lips needed Yoshimi to break out of the shadows. Are listeners more attuned to the frequencies of weird in 2010? Or has Of Montreal managed to transcend its image with ear friendly music?

Ultimately, I think it is a testament to Barnes' pop sensibility and desire to express himself with fresh sound that Of Montreal has been able to hold onto its outsider/art freak allure while reliably putting out a quality album every 12-18 months.

Wait, did I forget my sunglasses?

Sleigh Bells are Lebron James in 2003. Prematurely hyped, but somehow exceeding it. Their music comes across as fresh and carefree, even though it might be more calculated than any other tune beamed over the Internet. And if that's the case, good for them. Their music steals unapologetically from the Dirty South to Weezer, but it doesn't matter, because it is so fun to listen to. They ask the ultimate questions of our life's minutia, and answer them in the breeziest manner.

Congratulations to M.I.A. for going Dr. Dre on us and promoting ascendant proteges. She discovered a band that owns what the hip music scene craves most: shit that sounds bad, but is good, so as to weed out the ear of mild palette; left field pop hooks; lo-fi production values; dynamic instrumentation and laptop beats.



At the same time, N.E.E.T. must be a Ma and Pa record label, because the vinyl still isn't out. Lizzie and I were talking today that it is the vinyl we crave the most. Sure, Sleigh Bells built their rep with mp3s, but I won't be satisfied until I have Treats in 12x12 form.

I promise not to lose her again?!

Let's face it. Every blog is touting summer tunes. The penultimate summer songs and records are here. Local Natives have my favorite song of the year so far, "Sun Hands." They are from the hipsterest part of LA--Silverlake--and their tunes appeal to Pitchfork and Relix readers. I hate myself for missing Local Natives at Larimer Lounge a few months back. I have two excuses, but neither is a good enough reason at this point. I've read that they weren't great at Bonnaroo, but I have to believe this won't be true two summers from now once they sift out their identity from the amalgam of pastoral rock (MMJ, Fleet Foxes, Band of Horses) they currently provide. MMJ in 2002 would have been mild at Bonnaroo, but in '04 laid out legendary "Beyond the Thunderdome." See Local Natives now: Before They Were Big.

Jack White and the Power of Three

I was at Telluride Bluegrass Festival since Wednesday, and I will tell you it was fantastic. I will probably be writing about two of the bands I saw at some point in the future, but words can in no way do the glorious mining town of Telluride justice, so I won't even try. With that summer benchmark behind me, I am now looking ahead to concert tickets I need to purchase for the coming months. Wilco, Sound Tribe, New Pornographers and Dodos are some of the bigger shows for the coming months.

Another is less than a month away, and I not only lack a ticket, but am not feeling any momentum to do so from my normal concert buddies: The Dead Weather at the Ogden. I like going to shows at the Ogden, and enjoy the Dead Weather. However, I never compulsively listen to them and am not sold on the idea of Jack White hiding behind a drum kit. Wouldn't that have been a better decision during the White Stripes era? I love Jack White and his music. The White Stripes sucked live, the Raconteurs are blazing, so that is a wash.

Therefore, the question: Is a Jack White performance an absolutely must see?

And for this, I will go to a tale of the tape and compare White's first 12 years to two artists from a long time ago. In other words, how does his career stand up against other legends?

Bob Dylan (1962-73)

Critical albums: 10
Sea changes: 2
Years since peak: 7
Signature phrase: "Play it fuckin' loud"



Judging Bob in 1973 is a bit unfair, because this is the valley of Bob's first true ebb and immediately prior to the resurgence geared by touring with The Band and the release of Blood on the Tracks. Still, Bob probably seemed a bit out of new ideas at the 12 year mark. "The Man in Me" from New Morning is a fantastic song, but also the thematic anthem of a hippie burnout, which more or less sums up Dylan at the time. One year later, he was back at the top of his game.

Eric Clapton (1963-74)

Critical albums: 7
Years since peak: 5
Bands: 6 + solo
Famous slogan: Clapton is God.



Everything Clapton has done since Slowhand is useless; he has become the King of Corporate Blues. In 1974 though, he was still riding the wave of his legendary work in the 60s. Clapton played with a tremendous lineup of fellow rockers and virtuosos that pushed him musically, and judging by vomit inducers like Reptile he's best that way. However, with his Guitar God days still resonating and a hit song, "I Shot the Sheriff" on the airways, Clapton probably seemed to have not only survived the 60s, but still going strong; his days of future emasculation not even foreshadowed.


Jack White (1999-2010)

Critical albums: 7
Years since peak: 7
Bands: 3
Less known quote: Don't ask me my opinion and then punish me for the answer I give you!



Even though he is a spiritual descendant of Dylan, an amalgam of Dylan and Clapton probably works best for figuring out where Jack White stands. He has a lot of Dylan's attitude and much of his story telling ability. His guitar playing is unique (for its time) like Clapton's and his band switching points to some of Clapton's early wanderlust.

The Dead Weather seems more like a continuation (or beefed up version) of the White Stripes than something entirely new as the Raconteurs are. Now though, Jack finally has a willing counterpart to produce sexual tension and talented support to create the divisive dynamic he yearns for. These are definitely enticements. I wonder why Jack can't just settle into a groove with the Raconteurs and churn out four or five more melodic crunchers, but he seems to crave the male-female dynamic. This instability and wave of new band mates is likely why his music is still fresh. Clapton began his fade when he went solo even though drugs played a big part. Dylan was temporarily invigorated by touring with a menagerie of talent, an oasis of the dust bowl that was 1970-1987. This might not answer my original question, but it does seem to show why Jack White has continued to make relevant, challenging music for over a decade, while the ten year mark is usually the death toll of the biggest bands (Beatles, Zeppelin, Talking Heads).

Rapping from Rikers: Swallow Wayne's Words

Beyond Big Boi, there has been an absence of dynamic, smart rap finding its way onto my iPod. This is accentuated by "My Chick Bad" which is like rubbing a cheese grater on my ears.

Hip hop always comes in waves for me, so it makes me happy (and disappointed in our legal system) that Wayne is transmitting flow to the mainland. Not only is Wayne's verse a gigantic coup for Drake, it will also give his fascinating Wiki bio another entry. I really can't stop listening to his verse; the low fi sound only enhances the genius flow.

Before his incarceration, his celebrity was overcoming his output. Its hard to find time to unleash ridiculous flow when you are fake laughing at the reprehensible Skip Bayless on ESPN or freaking Katie Couric the fuck out. Now, I'm hoping Wayne comes out of prison motivated, ambitious, and extra-terrestrially thoughtful. Again.

zSHARE - Light Up Rikers.mp3

Arcade Fire tracks: Can something pure last?

It's a cloudy, lazy day so I decided to give the new Arcade Fire songs a thorough listen. Since Arcade Fire is now synonymous with dream animals and an emotionally naked young boy running wild through the jungle, my expectations were pretty high.

What maintains creative drive, once the initial spark has thoroughly disappeared? Once catharsis has been achieved, how can new artistic tension be created? For how long can a band's vision parallel its fan's desires and expectations?

Despite The Suburbs bizarrely far off August release date, Arcade Fire's new material has been slowly turning up. Their official singles are ambiguous and feature meta-cognitive spirals. "Ready to Start" and "We Used to Wait" are throaty, propulsive, and worthy of summer playlists, but make no mistake, they don't aspire to greatness. If these tracks are representative of The Suburbs, Arcade Fire have crystallized their artistic direction by scaling back their ambition and asking questions they've already answered.

Guess which song will begin Arcade Fire's Lolla set by listening courtesy of 107.7 The End. Or watch a video of new Arcade Fire in a house full of friends in Montreal.

MGMT - Red Rocks

We arrived before five to ensure time for a quality tailgate before the openers took the stage at sold out Red Rocks. As we took down a case of Session beers, the lots were just beginning their four hour journey to capacity; soon though, packs of teenaged hipsters were scampering around showing off their neon flannel and 48 hour mustaches. It was a hoodie and jeans type of night with foreboding clouds across the entire horizon. This did not fit the lineup particularly well: MGMT is more of a warm weather band, so a 90 degree scorcher would have been ideal.



There are other hot day bands that fit in this category such as Dirty Projectors, Outkast, and Avett Brothers; sweat belongs at these shows. Cold weather bands such as Pearl Jam, Band of Horses, and My Morning Jacket can rock through the rain. I want to see them wearing a flannel or hoodie. MGMT fits the hot day group much more, although they didn't let Mother Earth stop them on this night. The show kicked off a six month long World Tour, so there will be plenty of hot days in their future.

A common criticism of MGMT is that they aren't any good live, but this is mainly a commentary on people's expectations. As something other than a dorm room experiment, MGMT is green around the edges and still gaining the chops needed for this kind of gig. When I saw them at Bonnaroo '08 (as upstarts) and '09 (as late night packed house), I was looking for an hour long party, not an epic legend. Each time I was quite satisfied. (Note: I wouldn't recommend watching this whole video. Just pay attention to the sparse banter and crowd reaction to "Time to Pretend." When they play those songs the place just explodes!)



Last night, they powered through the rain, delivered a performance that transcended their three hits, and proved that they can play their songs differently than how they sound on the albums. They tilted a lot of their songs towards the crescendos, which enlivened the audience. By spacing out the Big 3, songs like opener "Weekend Wars" and "The Youth" had room to breathe. Their set list was an equal mix of Oracular Spectacular and Congratulations, and the confidence to close out their set and encore with newer songs indicates they have a commitment to stretching the depth of their catalogue. This is very encouraging.



Just because none of their new songs have the omnipresence of "Kids" doesn't mean they are regressing. The first career arc comparison that comes to mind for MGMT is Nirvana. They exploded with a neoteric album about youth, and followed it with a reactionary, well plotted album protesting their own fame. At this point a fresher comparison is needed, because they don't seem like the suicide or burnout types. There are two roads they could go down. The common road is the plateau. More interesting would be expansion, modeled by Radiohead, treating their fan base to consistent artistic growth. The Red Rocks show was a test and they definitely passed.

While the show solidified MGMT as a legitimate big stage headliner, I still have more questions. Will MGMT developing a supporting cast with the capability of turning them into a juggernaut? Will they maintain the ambition necessary to continue transforming their sound? For how long will "Kids" and "Time to Pretend" be dance party staples? Which MGMT guy will go solo first?



Setlist: Weekend Wars, Song for Dan Treacy, Flash Delirium, The Youth, Electric Feel, Pieces of What, Siberian Breaks, Time to Pretend, I Found a Whistle, Of Moons, Birds & Monsters, The Handshake, Brian Eno Encore: Kids, It's Working, Congratulations

A note on the openers: It turns out that a lot of people don't yet know about Tame Impala or Janelle Monae, because it took awhile for the bleachers to fill up. Tame Impala did not have the theatrics or big stage experience to fully capture the attention of the masses, but I was satisfied with their moody grooves and open air sound, while noting that they need to develop their vocals. Janelle Monae has enough style to enliven a Bridge competition. She was introduced by a hype man and ensured that everyone stayed on their feet as she shimmied and shaked like a female Michael Jackson with her band shredding like Van Halen in support.

The Synthesis of Sound

My car's sound system fried, so I've had a rare opportunity to survey corporate radio the last couple weeks. Broken Bells is pretty much the hottest shit KBCO 97.3 Boulder has been playing. Combining the world's best producer with a dynamic indie songwriter, Broken Bells has rolled out several top notch tunes, while cultivating a unique down tempo sound. They are also part of the re-emergence of important Supergroups.

The term Supergroup is archaic, but more than ever, interesting cross-genre collaborations are happening and pushing pop music forward. The density of these Supergroups is heavier now than even the 60s, when the concept was fresh. And we have the pleasure of having the most star studded and one of the best selling Supergroups of all time thriving right now.




Them Crooked Vultures is, on the pedigree side of the ranking system, unparalleled. The Vultures are built for their leader, desert rock legend, Josh Homme, even though he is the worst known member of the group. John Paul Jones has aged regally and lays down pulsating bass lines, while prolific Dave Grohl adds vitriolic drumming.The Rock Gods have finally given Homme a rhythm section worthy of his talents. This band should be a live powerhouse for a while.

Gorillaz are the modern version of this creation, and one for which we need a new moniker to fit
Broken Social Scene, New Pornographers, Monsters of Folk, Postal Service, amongst others. Based on the multi-interested members of these groups, I think they should get their own genre, Collaborock. Gorillaz set the standard: combining art across mediums, hosting a revolving and evolving cast of cohorts, and delivering quality with each album, Collaborockers take idiosyncratic parts and merge them into something widely palatable.

Summer Festivals Part 2

The Lollapalooza schedule has been posted, and it seems to almost purposefully create conflicts for festivarians.

I've never understood why Lollapalooza stacks their headliners against one another. Should people wanting to see Soundgarden's reunion have to miss The National and Arcade Fire? I'm not saying every Strokes fans will be devastated to hear they are missing Lady Gaga, but the allure of a festival is to hear music you wouldn't otherwise hear. Lollapalooza's lineup asks its attendees to make homogeneous decisions instead of branching out to a variety of sound.

Music in Places

What is the best music to listen to while standing on a porch during gentle rain? Does it contain the appropriate mood? Will it sink into the afternoon? Is it alive?

OK Computer fit the bill tonight.

At Sunflower today, with "Dancer in the Dark" taking the place of Muzak, I realized The National fits well with the Whole Foods set. Will their next album be sold at the Starbucks Register.

BKW: Their songs all smell like whiskey

Striding down Clarkson on a cool summer night, there were many doe eyed fans, and close to giving up scalpers, searching for tickets. The line stretched seemingly forever, but I managed to walk in as Patrick and Dan took the stage feeling quite fine.

The Black Keys absolutely dominated the Fillmore for the extent of their set. Able to pull from a decade of playing and several albums of material, the setlist was endlessly surprising and pleasing. Early highlights included "When the Lights Go Out" and "Stack Shot Lee," which unwinded into the first serious jam of the night and put forth the idea that the Black Keys were not in the building to fuck around.

Both Dan and Patrick were on top of their game. Dan's ability to modulate perfectly between roaring solos and hard rock riffing allows the duo to create their indomitable, copious sound. Patrick is an endlessly compelling drummer; during most jams he appears completely absorbed in his own universe, then unleashes thundering force. Dan and Patrick were noticeably locked in, although I would assume that is a nightly occurrence.

Before a three song encore, the Keys closed with a frenzied "I Got Mine." As with "Your Touch" and "Stack Shot Lee," Dan and Patrick built a purposeful jam that tilted between blues rock powerhouse and psychedelic freakout. As the jam reached its peak, the floor boiled into a throbbing, unified mass. As the reverb mellowed, the roar from the crowd rose feverishly, and like a counterpart for Patrick's drumming, the many ecstatic fans certified the show with a footstomp. The hollering cheer continued to build until the band re-emerged.


Future topics -- Additions from the Day After

As a Quartet

During the second third of the set, the Black Keys brought out keyboard and bass players to play songs from the new album. "Tighten Up" was most anticipated and delivered. These songs are not yet favorites, but the extra texture added a new wrinkle to the ever-expanding Black Keys sound.

If the Black Keys decide to begin playing as a quartet I would like to see two things happen. First, I hope that their backing musicians rise to a point of being fully incorporated. In short I don't want them to be backing musicians. Keyboard solos, in particular, would be excellent additions to several songs. Second, I think the Keys would need to go through a period of playing two sets. I think, by incorporating a few more blues standards, the Keys would have enough material. They also are in full rights to jam out a few more songs, because the jams they played last night approached virtuosity.

Everlasting Light

As the quartet's obvious post in the second third of the set wound down, I tapped Lizzie on the shoulder and we had this exchange:

Me: I am really anxious for them to play "Everlasting Light."
Lizzie: Really? Explain more.

It had been growing on me. I wanted to see what it sounded like live. I thought it might sound awesome, but I wasn't sure. Lizzie is an mp3 blog (queen) and she's been a fan of this tune since its inception. I've had my doubts, but only so much as wishing they layered guitar shredding over that throbbing bass line. I don't think it is a great song, but I do think it is an important one, because it shows that the Black Keys are beginning to reshape or broaden their song. They added complementary players and pushed their sound farther beyond their prototype than ever before.

Both the placement and playing of the song were telling. Depositing it in the first encore slot added emphasis to the tune. Frankly, I, Lizzie, and many around us were in a tizzie. As the song began it was very clear that not many people had it pegged as the tune they were hoping to hear, which is probably because it is a newer song in their arsenal, and has received only a modicum of play online. For the first couple minutes, the band did nothing to change that. In a disappointing turn, the thumping bass did not come through until the song's final verse, although that did give one last burst of crazy to the dancers in the building.

Black Keys Week - Songs I want to hear

#1) Strange Desire.London Forum.London, UK.10-15-2006

My favorite Black Keys song, and my favorite Black Keys line: "I don't wanna go to hell, but if I do, it'll be 'cause of you." The audio quality on this is doubtful, but the lighting is fantastic. If you like clean audio and have a foot fetish check out this underground fan video.

Black Keys Week - Songs I want to hear

#2) I Got Mine.Crystal Ballroom.Portland, OR.4-4-2008

This is from Live at the Crystal Ballroom, which any hardcore Keys fan should probably own. This song best captures their full essence: swaggering riffs, deadly blues groove, wailing/pleading vocals, and tons of thump kit-side.

Black Keys Week - Songs I want to hear

#3) Tighten Up.Letterman.NYC.5-25-2010

Even David Letterman likes the Black Keys. Since I've listened to it the most and because it's generally awesome, this is my favorite song so far on Brothers. The two honchos in back will be there with them, but will they only play on the new songs?

Black Keys Week - Songs I want to hear

#4) Grown So Ugly.Grimey's Records.Nashville, TN.3-21-2007

The Keys a little bit closer to the classic blues structure. I'd like to see them toy with this song, jam it out a little further, improvise some lyrics.

Black Keys Week - Songs I want to hear

#5) Have Love Will Travel.High Noon Saloon.Madison, WI.9-22-2004:

I loved finding this video for two reasons. First, the side of stage view gives you a great perspective on just how hard Patrick Carney hits his kit. Second, this is rare footage of unbearded Dan Auerbach. Also, I am pretty sure this was the last Black Keys show I was at.

Graduating to fish sticks

To some degree, Kanye West used to embody the Zeitgeist. His new track "Power" is weak sauce. Oh, how good things fade away. The beats are 2005 hand claps and some guitar fuzz from King Crimson. References to Austin Powers, loneliness, and drunk driving further the unspiration. But wow, Kanye, no one has ever sampled "21st Century Schizoid Man." At least your samples are still fresh. Oh wait, Ozzy is covering the whole song on his new album? Hawt.

One other thing. Kanye has not made any strides in terms of personal awareness. The definition of schizoid: of or pertaining to a personality disorder marked by dissociation, passivity, withdrawal, inability to form warm social relationships, and indifference to praise or criticism.

Introducing the female Kanye West

"I've never written a political song. Songs can't save the world." - Bob Dylan

This is another story about a pampered entertainment figure with too big a bullhorn. As you may have heard, M.I.A. is building publicity for her new album and record label by feuding with the New York Times. If you want to buy into the hype drive, you can listen to her mediocre diss song, "IM A SINGER" on her record label's website. I listened because M.I.A. makes innovative music. She's repping Sleigh Bells, which proves her ears still work. Her songs are worth listening to.

But I don't think that she is.

I want outspoken musicians, but with a better sense of what's worth talking about or fighting for. Of course, M.I.A. is truly concerned for the plight of Sri Lanka. I am too. There is unquestionably too much poverty in our world. Her father was a revolutionary during her childhood, but her step-father is the CEO of Warner Music Group. Which lifestyle does she appear to be living? Don't we have enough misguided Jolies and Bonos feigning around trying to save the world for the tabloid press?

Raising awareness about violence in third world countries is helpful. Angrily attacking an American journalist's right to free speech makes M.I.A. look like a cowardly hypocrite. Attacking Google makes me question her legitimacy as a thinker.

I love conspiracy theories, but M.I.A's claim to Nylon that the CIA runs Facebook and Google doesn't resonate. Everyone knows the CIA doesn't have enough money or competence for that.

MIA: If you really want to help, use your pocketbook power in a meaningful way. Create a foundation so you can donate your profits to the cause. Or go on hiatus like Zach de la Rocha did and become a full time political activist. You already have a mansion in L.A. -- you don't need any more money.


"A hero is someone that understands the responsibility that comes with freedom." -Bob Dylan

Get this girl her iPod commercial

Janelle Monae is a sponge and a mirror. Her voice dances easily in any genre. Her songs are deliciously poppy and stylistically vibrant; they fit on Pitchfork, in ATL clubs and SF house parties. ArchAndroid (the name of her new album) seems to follow the sci-fi obsessions of Sun Ra, George Clinton and Lil Wayne ("I am an alien"), but defines her music perfectly. It is sly, humanistic contrivance, acting to automatically reproduce and reconfigure the current sounds of popular culture. On the surface, Janelle Monae is a prodigious talent in the vein of Lauryn Hill and Erykah Badu; underneath she is a walking mix of all that what we listen to.

**Update** While on tour with Erykah Badu, Monae will hop a plane from Memphis to Denver to join MGMT and Tame Impala for one night at Red Rocks.

Pandora's dirtiest blues

The Black Keys have as much ownership over their signature sound (grooving guitar licks, lockstep drumming, and strangely sexual vocals) as any other band currently playing music, and because of this have been able to take liberties with their sound without taking genuine risks. I consider the Black Keys 2010's most vinyl worthy band and Brothers, a double vinyl album, mainly lives up to that reputation.

The final three sides gave me two impressions: 1) this album is four songs too long and could have fit on one slab of vinyl 2) many of these songs are low key grooves that will provide changeups in the live sitting and slowly grow on fans over the next couple years. I listened to these sides once. I listened to the first side three times. Side 1 neglects their typically rugged blues sound by adding new elements to the foreground ("Everlasting Light" and "Howling for You") and background ("Next Girl" and "Tighten Up"). The grooves are smoother, the hooks more complex, and the format adventurous.

It's fitting that the Black Keys and Dead Weather released albums at the same time. Eight years ago, a lazy comparison between the Black Keys and White Stripes was impossible to escape. At that time, their sounds were new and unique, so that the now obvious distinctions were harder to capture. For the next half decade, Jack White expanded the White Stripes sound while the Keys perfected theirs. On Get Behind Me Satan, Jack and Meg pushed their sound to the extreme and Icky Thump--seemingly their final album since "Under Northern Lights" carries the titular finality of "Let it Be"--had little room to progress in a constructive way. Although the band is ostensibly on hiatus because of Meg's anxiety, I'm not sure they have anywhere else to go.

The Black Keys aren't at this breaking point, but "Everlasting Light," Side 1's greatest digression, suggests they may be casting it furtive glances. Fundamentally, the Black Keys are raw; their sound translates well in grungy clubs and resonates with dudes that are a month overdue on a haircut. I don't blame the Black Keys for wanting to escape the boundaries of boilerplate and the stale confines of form mastered, but "Everlasting Silence," whether its a good or bad song, is not the Black Keys. If the divergence into falsetto foretells more movement away from their core elements they risk losing their identity.



Where will the next Black Keys album take them, and how much further can they expand their sound before they lost control over it? At some point the possibilities of guitar and drums run out. Jack White has opted for four piece bands, which has solidified his sound and provided new ground to explore. The Black Keys seem to recognize that if they want to stay relevant, they will need to make a sonic leap at some point in the near future. They are in search of muses to keep their sound fresh. How would Dan and Patrick sound next to B3 organ, bass, or a second guitarist? Adding new pieces would muddy their essence, but allow for reinvention.

The Black Keys play the Fillmore in less than two weeks. I'm intrigued to see how these Side 1 songs--with looping guitars, whistles, and other ambience--are arranged in the live setting. Regardless, it should be a kick-ass night.

I've had a rough night and I hate the fucking Eagles

Austin City Limits announced their full lineup today. Headliners Phish, Muse, and The Eagles could not be more befuddling as a trio. Jam band kings. Glammy Brit rock. Country rock nostalgia act. Certainly going for diversity there. Phish rarely plays a festival like this; I hope Austin's hipster chic scene is prepared to be flooded with insane hippies.

The second tier of bands doesn't produce any surprises, but is high quality and well chosen. These are basically 20 of our most buzzingest bands, few of which will be constrained by ACL's short set lengths. The highlights for me are the Black Keys, posted too low and deserving of a cushy late afternoon slot; Lucero, gaining steam and waiting for a breakthrough; and Gogol Bordello, another band crashing the cool party with a little freakiness.

Lollapalooza's headliners are more adventurous, but ACL's second tier probably edges out Lolla by a hair, if only because it doesn't include Cypress Hill. But Perry Farell knows how to order bands correctly. Bonnaroo's headliners suck, but it crushes ACL and Lolla for depth and diversity. Look where Phoenix, The Black Keys, and Lucero sit on Bonnaroo's lineup.