newpageone.com

Over the last couple of weeks, I was very lucky to get to see three of my favorite bands as they made their way through western Massachusetts.  Of these three, I’d already seen two play in the past, but they’re shows worth seeing.

Let’s start at the Green River Festival in Greenfield, where Cake headlined a weekend of varied musical acts.  You might (might) remember when I saw them play four years ago in Worcester, and I can remember leaving the Palladium that evening vowing to see them again.

It's the Gui-tar Man!

As always, the Sacramento-based quintet delivered a great set.  Many of the old favorites were played, including “Ruby Sees All,” “Comanche,” “Wheels,” “Frank Sinatra,” “Short Skirt/Long Jacket,” and of course, “The Distance.”  They also played a couple of new tracks, which sounded like they follow the great Cake tradition.  John MaCrea was a bit more perturbed than usual, which can’t hurt the proceedings.  He’s happy that the band have their own label now, as he says, “The music industry… it’s all corrupt, all of it.”  He’s excited to release the new, 100% solar powered album, although he’s still unsure as to when it’s due out.  No matter, I’m on the email list.  As before, I have to recommend seeing these guys live if you ever get the chance.

... spare me the suspense.

On Friday, I high-tailed it to Northampton in an effort to see Interpol for the second time.  The first time around was a couple of years ago at the Aggnis Arena at Boston University.  This time, it was the Pearl St. Nightclub.  These guys are fully capable of carrying an arena, but a small room such as Pearl St. is truly the place to see them.

After the opening act from Twin Tigers (which featured a lead singer who looked like a young Rich Hall and a cute girl with goofy glasses on bass), Paul Banks took to the microphone and gave us a cordial “Good evening.”  From there they made the gutsy move of opening with the as-of-yet-unheard “Success,” following the band policy of using the first track from the current album to open the show.  We were all impressed, and enjoyed a killer set that would also include “Summer Well” and “Lights,” which will be on the new album, as well. Turn on the Bright Lights and Antics would get plenty of attention, but strangely enough, only “Mammoth” represented Our Love to Admire.  I had wondered how the band would perform without original bassist Carlos D, and the answer was “Quite well.”  Journeyman Dave Pajo took over for Carlos at those duties, and fit right into the puzzle.  Also, Secret Machines’ Brandon Curtis was on keyboards.  Curtis is a great fit for the band and I hope that they continue to work with him.

My favorite moments of the evening include Dan Kessler standing four feet from me on the edge of the stage, Paul looking right at me during the chorus of “PDA” (I swear to God, he did), the smile on his face at the audience’s ferocious approval, and Sam Fogarino, liter of vodka in hand, thanking us at the end of the night.  Classy gents; Interpol forever.

The test begins... NOW

The next night, it was off to Holyoke for my long-awaited meeting with the Flaming Lips.  I’d been looking forward to seeing the Lips play in concert for YEARS.  Finally, it was time to see Oklahoma City’s favorite sons.

Now, I’m going to have to level with you… this show was spectacular.  Everything people say about Lips shows is true.  It’s over the top.  It’s a ton of fun.  There’s all sorts of freaks there, and it’s a big ol’ party.  But something tells me that I might have enjoyed this show more a few years ago.  Why?  To be completely honest, it’s because Embryonic hadn’t been recorded yet.  Now, don’t get me wrong: last year’s double album was an incredible effort that pushed the Lips in new directions of experimentation… and that’s saying something.  But the difference between Embryonic and the previous decade’s work is the fact that the newest offering is, for the most part, a downer.  What made albums like The Soft Bulletin and Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots appealing was the fact that they were fun and optimistic.  Embryonic is a great album, sure, but only a scarce few of the songs aren’t spooky or depressing.  I mean, no “Race for the Prize?”

This does not hurt the fact that the band absolutely ROCK live.  You could remove all of the massive balloons, video screens, confetti cannons, giant laser-hands, and Wayne Coyne’s space bubble and still have a great time because these guys play loud and heavy all the time. No one is safe when Michael Ivins is cranking his bass and Kliph Scurlock is thrashing on the drums.  Steven Drozd, thankfully clean and sober these days, is loving life more than ever with this band, and Wayne gives us all plenty to be happy about.  In fact, during one of his conversations with us between songs, he got me a little teary eyed talking about loving one another and all that happy hippy shit.  I didn’t bother to stick around after the show to meet him, but my mission to someday give Wayne Coyne a hug is not off.

There are plenty of great memories from this show.  For one, I tried to send a voice mail to my sister when we all sang “Happy Birthday” (seeing as how it was the day before), but her phone rings something like 10 times before her “machine” kicks in, so we were done by the time it was over.  Also, when the set was over, Wayne informed us that a girl in the audience had “a bad reaction to the strobes” and asked us all to be “peaceful” while we waited for the encore.  And of course, seeing Darryl, Dani, Corey, Chris, Pete, Brit,  Tess, and the rest of the Fitchburg crew was well worth it.

So there you have it.  Now that my hearing is coming back, it’s time to look for some more shows to go see.  Hello, Cleveland!

I recently started playing guitar again.  It’s always been an on-again, off-again thing for me.

One of the major reasons I pick the instrument back up is hearing someone new and thinking, “What the heck is this guy/gal doing?”  After enough listening, you end up looking up guitar tabs, and before you know it, you’re getting yourself in tune and playing along.  The last guitarist who managed to do this to me was Jamie Hince of The Kills, who I first heard about a year ago.  Googling him will probably bring up more pictures of girlfriend Kate Moss than anything else.

Hince with Ms. Mosshart

The Kills are a duo made up of himself and the smoldering Alison Mosshart, and the dynamic between them seems to be one of one-upmanship.  The obvious contrasts/comparisons to the White Stripes aside, it’s dingy and dirty garage blues with restrained augmentation.  The heart of their sound is shared, snarling vocals and Hince’s furious attack on the guitar.  Over the course of their three-album (so far) career, the use of drum machines and synths have made their way into some furious tunes, but always as an accompaniment and never a distraction.

Jamie doesn’t do much of anything new per se, but his execution is what piques my interest.  What makes him appealing to me is that he seems to be screwing around with his guitar from time to time, looking for what sounds right and plugging away at it, whether it sounds perfect or not.  Healthy doses of distortion fill it out, but like the synthesized instruments they use, even the fuzz box is only an accessory to the instrument.  He’s also fond of drop-tuning, which gives the sound some extra balls.  This is all evidence of a guy who knows how to get what he wants out of his instrument, and I always admire that.

As a result of listening to The Kills, I have been spending more time with my old bootleg Stratocaster.  Sometimes it’s not just what you’re playing, but the way you’re playing it.  Jamie Hince is one guitarist who exemplifies this concept.

Here’s the video for “Last Day of Magic,” which is pretty cool if you ask me.

It’s been three years since the release of Our Love To Admire, the majestic third album by New York’s coolest band, Interpol.  Since the conclusion of that tour (which I attended in Boston that September), the band took time off to chase other projects and the future of their collective work was uncertain.  There were doubters, but those with true faith, such as myself, knew that they still had plenty of work to do.  Tonight, I am happy to learn that the wait is coming to an end.

These gentlemen have something to show you.

If you click on Carlos, Dan, Paul, and Sam, you’ll be taken to their sparse website, and after a rather spooky new logo animation, you’ll be treated to a download link to their new song, “Lights.”  I just gave it a listen and I’m very happy with the results.  It’s very much an Interpol song; dark, brooding, and somewhat dreamy.  At nearly six minutes, it builds up over time and swells up into a beautiful denouement before fading out.  Paul is still singing about unconventional romance and traveling by waterway.  Basically, it sounds like “The Lighthouse” with a real guitar riff and a little extra muscle.  If you’ve been listening since Turn on the Bright Lights, you could see sounds like this coming.  Can’t wait to hear what the rest of these latest sessions have brought.

This gives me a good opportunity to discuss Paul Banks’ solo album, which he released last summer.  Julian Plenti Is… Skyscraper was a good album, but it’s kind of like when Dave Matthews takes a vacation from the band to record something by himself.  You sit there thinking, “This is pretty good… but I wonder what it would have sounded like if…”  In this case, you get a couple of songs that could have really used some support from the rest of the group, and other tracks that work fine on their own.  For instance, check out the video for the lead single, “Games for Days”:

The song is great.  In fact, this track actually sounds 90% like it was an Interpol song to begin with.  Meanwhile, the video is kind of like the whole Garth Brooks/Chris Gaines thing.  “Julian Plenti” is a pseudonym that Banks has used for years, and the scenario here has me thinking that Black Shirt Paul is his Interpol persona, while Hat and Glasses Paul is more like his sensitive-artist persona.  Chuck Klosterman talked about Chris Gaines in his new book (I’ll get to that some other time), but I thought of this first.

So, there you have it.  Once the new album comes out, I’m sure to pick it up and review it post-haste.  Till then, keep an eye on the wire.

The Worcester Art Museum is currently showing a spectacular photography exhibit called Who Shot Rock and Roll: A Photographic History, 1955 to the Present.  It’s gotten the attention of folks all over town, and I got my chance to see it the other day.

The WAM (as I like to call it) is kind of a hidden gem for the city, the kind of place that you always seem to forget about when you try to come up with cool things to do.  Thankfully, they will bring in this type of show and people flock from far and wide.  I was excited about it because it was combining two of my favorite things in the world: music and photography.  When you think about rock and roll, the first thing that comes to mind after the music is the imagery.  This exhibit focuses on the way photography can help to transform an artist into an icon.

For one, WSR&R is like a quick history lesson in rock.  You start with Chuck Berry and Buddy Holly, work your way up to Elvis and the Beatles, then the Stones, Zeppelin, and so on.  Along the way, you see how photographers develop a love for their subjects over the years, the way portraits grow into serious studies on the character of the pop idol.  I spent so much time with a big smile on my face, thinking, “This makes these people legitimate.  This makes them immortal.”  It’s not just the music, if MTV ever taught us anything, right?  Okay, so it’s art for the masses… but there’s a ton of good stuff.

My favorite finds: a larger and more detailed print of Anton Corbijn’s portrait of U2 that served as the cover for The Joshua Tree, a huge six-panel holographic Andy Warhol study of Jimi Hendrix, and learning that the most famous headshot of The Police featured Sting’s calculator wristwatch.  I might have been most moved, though, by the juxtaposition of these images:

"Lose some sleep and say you tried..."

There’s Ian Curtis of Joy Division, the incredibly influential post-punk/pre-New Wave band of the late 70’s.  Curtis committed suicide at the age of 23, driven there by depression and a terrible case of epilepsy.  His lyrics were haunting and the music was moody and danceable.  I’ve always been struck by this photo of him, his sad eyes wandering off in the distance.  Also, his right hand looks freaking huge.  But having read and watched plenty of material on his short life and the band’s endurance as New Order, Curtis is my own personal Jim Morrison.  I got sucked into seeing this picture in person and I would have probably been brought down by it had this not been the one placed right beneath it:

"Head on down to Walter's for some barbecue!"

This is probably my favorite picture of my favorite band.  Here’s R.E.M. in the mid 80’s, sitting at the counter of Walter’s BBQ, a popular joint in their hometown of Athens, GA.  They loved the place so much, they wrote a theme song for it.  Michael Stipe’s silly mug is such a contrast to Curtis’s melancholy stare; never mind the fact that I love both these bands’ work, it was just great planning by the exhibitors.

Other great selections included a nice big portrait of Jack and Meg White, a very cool morphed image of Mick Jagger and a leopard, and a neat panoramic collage of Oasis in the studio with Johnny Marr.  Could have seen more of The Who and maybe some representation of the colorful Flaming Lips, but you can’t have everything.  Still, this is a thorough study of rock.  The show is still at the WAM until May, so go and see it while you can.

There’s a deleted scene from Pulp Fiction in which Uma Thurman explains to John Travolta that there are two types of people in the world:  Beatles people and Elvis people.  Everybody knows who they like better.  Sure, you can like both, but you don’t like one more than the other.  And while I may share my birthday with the King, “Burning’ Love” is about as close as I get to being a fan.  Give me the Fab Four any day of the week, although I’d rather the Stones… but that’s another story altogether, isn’t it?

Why do I bring this up?  Well, back last September, a box set I’ve been waiting for ages to get had finally been released.  I didn’t really know that it was being developed, I just knew that it had to happen some day.  Sure enough, George Martin had emerged from Abbey Road like Moses with the tablets.  Only instead of some guidelines handed down from God, it was the complete works of the Gods of Rock, remastered in stereo.  Although I owned a couple of the Beatles’ albums already, their presentation left something to be desired.

The Beatles Stereo Box Set is part of a balanced breakfast.

Now, I don’t consider myself to be an audiophile.  but I know when something sounds like crap.  I can’t buy a set of headphones without trying them first, I was a freak about finding “good” cassette tapes in junior high, and I once spent a beautiful spring weekend indoors, re-ripping 200 CDs for my iPod at 256 kbps instead of 128.  So I don’t know, maybe I am an audiophile.  That’s why this set got me excited.  Finally, we’d have the Beatles in true stereo, cleaned up and mixed to sound as good as possible.  After about a month of listening here and there, I’m happy that I spent the money on it.

Now, sure, I was skeptical.  Just how good was this thing going to be?  Could it really sound like I always imagined “perfect” recordings of these songs could sound?  I’d read a couple of reviews that seemed to point me in that direction.  I figured that, at worst, it’d be the albums with the levels turned up and the left and right channels panned this way and that.  At best, though… well, I couldn’t put a price on it.  Considering that Amazon had a pretty good deal going on, I took a chance.

When it arrived, I was immediately impressed by the packaging.  The box is simple, and very neatly carries all sixteen discs in their cardboard slipcases.  I’m still a fan of the jewel case, but I guess that the slipcases were meant to be like record sleeves.  Each one is stuffed with great photos of the band, as well.  Almost too nice to do anything with.  It’s all super-glossy;  you’ll want to hold everything by the edges even if you’re not an obsessive collector-type.  I popped all the CDs into the computer and ripped them in an afternoon.  Listening on the laptop speakers, I could tell that everything sounded good, but I knew that the true test was to play them in the car.

That’s when I was able to truly appreciate the work that went into the set.  My favorite time to listen is while I drive, and I decided to throw The White Album on first.  I was in love all over again with my favorite Beatles album.  ”Back in the USSR” screeches in and it sounds great.  No more of the “flat” sound of the mono mix that I’d heard for years.  Sure, I loved my old copy, but this was like having Paul in the car with me.  And the whole album sounds this good.  I was never a big “Bungalow Bill” fan, but the new mix absolutely surrounded me, Paul’s bass seemed to envelop me, and the voices of the whole band (plus Yoko) were alive… sounding like they were having a good time, even.  ”While My Guitar Gently Weeps” remains George’s masterpiece, and “Helter Skelter,” well… let’s just hope that this thing is kept far away from Charles Manson.

INVISIBLE SKATEBOARDS

I was also dying to get this set because I absolutely HATED the quality of my old copy of Magical Mystery Tour.  I’m very happy to say that “I Am the Walrus” is everything it should have ever been, not the muddy and even choppy mess that I used have to put up with.  ”Strawberry Fields Forever” is probably the track that I can say is the finest achievement of this set:  I heard things in this mix that I didn’t even know were supposed to be there.  From what I understand, nothing was added on throughout the set, which probably speaks volumes to the job done.

I won’t bother to analyse Sgt. Pepper’s because to be honest, I’m not a huge fan of that album.  I will say that it sounds great, and it deserves to.  As for Abbey Road, well… it was probably the easiest to remaster seeing as how it was recorded in stereo to begin with.  Accordingly, it sounds incredible and the “second side” is more majestic than ever.

The older, EMI/Parlophone/Capitol albums are great in their own right, but I’m not as big a fan of the stuff pre-Rubber Soul, so I can’t really tell you one from the other.  Still, I’m glad to have all of it.  I mean… it’s the Beatles.  By default, it’s better than a good chunk of my iPod.  There’s really too much to cover here.  I haven’t even watched the DVD with “mini-documentaries” about the albums.

If you’re a Beatlemaniac, you might do well to invest in this set.  You owe it to yourself if tape hiss or inferior mixing practices distract you from a good song.  Or if you want “Eleanor Rigby” stuck in your head again.  Hearing is believing, and you’ll believe that the Beatles are better than ever… at least until science invents a way to just plug music right into your brain.  Don’t worry though, that won’t happen for a few months.

As far as I’m concerned, I am pleasantly surprised with the way things turned out in music in 2009.  Part of that might have to do with the fact that I didn’t go into the year with high expectations.  I went into things with a “let’s see what happens” kind of attitude, and it made for some discoveries as well as new ways to look at old favorites.

A couple of weeks ago I did a huge writeup on the old site about Steely Dan.  They made up so much of my listening time this year (last.fm is the greatest) that it seems like everybody else was robbed of plays.  But forget statistics and my obsessive/compulsive need to see how many times I listened to Joy Division over the last 12 months.  Let’s start with my album of the year…

Glasgow's Finest

I love Franz Ferdinand, and the funny thing is that Greg does, too.  We have a big overlap of musical tastes, but we are fanatical about the Scottish quartet.  They are everything a good rock band should be: energetic, exciting, funny, and danceable.  Tonight: Franz Ferdinand is their third album, and it’s an upgrade over the first two, which were essentially one and the same.  What sets Tonight apart?  Greg might’ve put it best when he said, “It’s like when the Beatles did Revolver.  They did a bunch of songs that were all Beatles songs, but they did something different to all of them.  Each one works on its own, and they all go together really well.”  So while “Turn It On” and “No You Girls” are stock rippers, they put on faux-reggae guitars for “Send Him Away” and mild synths on the second half of “Live Alone,” you still know, with or without the “I’m-more-macho-than-I-look” vocals of Alex Kapranos, that this is still FF.  At least until the epic funkified second half of “Lucid Dreams,” which was the biggest surprise in all of the album’s 43 minutes, and maybe of any new music all year.  It’s a shame that Spin Magazine forgot about this one in their year-end round-up.  Next time these guys come around, I’m going.

In other music this year, Yeah Yeah Yeahs also did some reinventing.  It’s Blitz! is a great mix of their usual loud sound, but Nick Zinner is now manipulating a synth more than his guitar at the insistence of Karen O.  Unbeknownst to me, YYY recorded some of the album at Long View Farm Studios, which is literally minutes from my home.  I have my own code when it comes to Long View visitors: Leave ‘em alone.  They came here for a reason, and that’s to record in peace.  It goes without saying that had I known, I would have abandoned this ethos on the spot and shown up every day until I got to give Karen a hug and high five Nick and Brian.  The whole CD is great, but if you don’t think “Dragon Queen” is the best track, then you obviously don’t think that dance music is the direction that YYY should go.

Jack White was busy, too.  But instead of starting another band in which to showcase his guitar chops, he started a band in which to show us that he’s really good at the drums, too.  After joining forces with the smoldering Alison Mosshart (The Kills) and the Raconteurs’ “Little” Jack Lawrence and Dean Fertita, Jack created The Dead Weather.  The result is what you’d expect: it’s bitchin’.  That’s really the only word there is to describe it.  Imagine combining The Kills with The Raconteurs and take Brendan Benson out of the picture.  “Bitchin’” is the word you should be thinking of.  (Note: Brendan is a great songwriter and singer in his own right, but there’s only so much bitchin’ness to go around.)

A couple of new acts caught my eye:  for one, New Zealand’s Pip Brown emerged under the moniker of Ladyhawke, giving us some straight-outta-the-80’s tunes.  Her “My Delirium” and “Paris Is Burning” are required listening.  Brooklyn is constantly churning out handfuls of twee college grads at a time, but The Pains of Being Pure at Heart really caught my ear.  They’re essentially The Smiths without being morose, and had they existed while I was in high school, I’d have owned a lot more sweater vests.  I’ll just leave it at that.

Meanwhile, some old faves got back in the game.  Pearl Jam, Wilco, and The Flaming Lips all put out great new efforts.  PJ’s Backspacer is their most vital and fun (!) work in about a decade and Wilco (The Album) is just plain good.  The Lips’ double-sized Embryonic is surprisingly dark and experimental.  But when it comes to Wayne Coyne and company, the more experimental, the better.  Long-time fans only.

Sure, there’s more, but that’s the gist of it.  2010 looks to be exciting for a guy like me:  R.E.M., Radiohead, and CAKE are all working on new music right now, and The White Stripes are due for an album, too (and maybe a movie?).  But it’s not only a new year to look forward to in music… it’s  a new DECADE!  The Aughts are over, it’s time for… Awwww, what are we gonna call this decade?  We had a hard enough time naming the one we just got through!  I can only assume the “Teens,” but we have to wade through three years until that’s relevant…

Let’s not worry about it for now.  Just turn up the music.