Realized, it's a dead time for concerts during a Colorado Winter. I don't know if it's me, but I feel like I haven't seen anything worthwhile since October. That's about to change though.
As I stood on the top of Spaulding Bowl Tuesday morning, I felt completely ensconced in Ski Season. The moment could not be any better. On the fourth day of a marvelous Spring Break--having already skied Copper, Keystone and Breckenridge, the heavy clouds from the Sierra's building fiercely--with my skis perched at the top of the world, I enjoyed the best run I had all season. There was one other that gave it stern competition, but in the end it is clear. That morning, my father woke with joy, as his heart was pining for a blue sky powder day. And he was granted his wishes. Already planning on meeting up with Hugo for some turns at Copper, I also had the pleasure of Frank's grateful presence. With hope in our hearts, we connected at the Super Bee base and, although there are no friends on a powder day, we recounted our stories for the ride up. The decision was made to journey up the Poma. The sky glowed blue with a handful of cloud dots. The rope was down, but the patrollers guarding it smartly promised it to be for only a few minutes. We waited in a crowd that grew from seven to about 30. The Bowl had been closed the day before as two and a half feet dropped on the head of the peak. A patroller through a stick of dyanmite over the cornice. "There will be a loud noise," he promised. The snow held. "Make them wait about sixty seconds," the call came over the Walkie Talkier. Thirty pairs of knees tensed. After interminal waiting, another call: "Unleash the hounds." The rope was dropped: "have fun guys." And we were off. White ribbon stretched before us. I cut to the group's right and released into powder that rode above my waist and sprayed my goggles. Once again, time stood still. At the bottom, the energy was boundless. A ride through the trees and three further pursuits of ridable perfection, and the first part of the day was done. After, I closed out with my family on a series of groomers. By suppertime, I felt that ski season had peaked. It's time for Concert Season.
In fact, kicking off the Denver Concert Season, as they did last year, is Trampled by Turtles. Friday, I will see them at the Ogden as part of Frank's Great Last Day In Denver.
Tomorrow, I will buy my first Red Rocks tickets in a year. When I saw the announcement for My Morning Jacket, I knew where I would be on April 4. There are few if any bands that I would want to see at Red Rocks over the Jacket. Not only do I have the perfect hoodie for the occasion, but their music will fit the venue perfectly. I can already see myself parked in the lot, cool breeze blowing perfectly and a frisbee floating through the air.
30 March 2011
02 December 2010
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.
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.
21 November 2010
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.
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.
20 November 2010
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.
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.
15 November 2010
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.
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.
14 November 2010
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.
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.
07 August 2010
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.
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.
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