Getting Misty-Eyed Over The Milkmen

I had a really great thought the other day for a post. I was driving and mapped the whole thing out in my head. Trust me, it was a fantastically interesting idea.

And, now that I'm in front of my computer, I've forgotten it.

Age?

Seasonal affective disorder?

Or maybe it could be that I haven't been to a live show in almost two months. I feel like I'm crawling out of my skin. I'm feeding myself a steady stream of live recordings but it's just not the same.

I was supposed to see Father John Misty in November. But I've been spending a good part of my life recently on the road for work. I don't think this would have gone over too well: "Honey, great to see you and the kids. Boy it's been a long week of traveling. I missed you all. And, I'm going out tonight for a show."

As great as Father John Misty (and previous incarnations) is, a stable home life is better.*



I'm only writing a blog and I've never run down the street with my pants to my knees (as far as I know). But I still love this song and the entire album; it's up there with Jack White and Neil Young for album of the year.

Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band also played Denver earlier this week. Normally I would've been there and spent the day waiting for a pit wristband. But I was in Florida. Here's a picture from the Dry Tortugas. I know, boo-f'n-hoo...

Alice Cooper also played Denver this week. Again, I was in Florida. See the above picture and loathe me.  Especially if it's cold where you are. It wasn't cold in Florida. Just weird.

So I'm looking for a December show. The NYE runs are an option (Yonder in Boulder, SCI in Broomfield, etc.). But that's another whole month away. I need something now. I'm reduced to trolling Pollstar.

In the meantime, an all-time great band has released some new music. The Dead Milkmen are blowing up keyboards now. I don't know what I prefer more - the snotty anger of "Dark Clouds Gather Over Middlemarch" or the snotty angry humor of "Ronald Reagan Killed The Black Dahlia."



I love listening to music made by people old enough to remember the Reagan era as one giant joke and not the gauzy hero-worship we're too often force-fed. Give it a listen. Then go buy it so the band can make more than $0.000000000000001 off your Spotify listen.


*Sorry the clip has an ad attached to it. But it's really a fine version of the song. Down with the man, though. Except the man who made all the stuff I own. That man is OK. It's just all the other corporate mans I want to down. 

Shake Your Rebooty

Time to reboot this blog. We're going dark and edgy. Think Clooney to Bale. Brosnan to Craig. Bugs Bunny to Bugs Bunny in drag.

OK, so reboot means time to return to the blog. Two things.

First, sigur ros is finally coming to Colorado again. I know, there's supposed to be the little thing above the "o." Sorry, can't figure that out on my computer. I'm a heathen.

Anyway, sigur ros on April 6 at the 1st Bank Center. A perfectly fine venue. But too bad it's not a month later kicking off the summer season at Red Rocks. A chilly spring evening outdoors there would be perfect for sigur ros. Probably too perfect. Maybe even so perfect it becomes a cliche.

Then again, I saw sigur ros on a blistering Chicago afternoon with about 20,000 people in a field. I've never experienced quiet like that. At times the crowd was so silent the typical concert goings on came to a dead halt. No one said a f'n word; no drunk bros hollering and shotgunning beers; no annoying cellphone gabbers; no friends "catching up" and ignoring the band. Just 20,000 people in rapture at some of the most amazing noise I've ever heard.



Second, thanks to OpenAir CPR (yes, that station again), I now love Artichoke. Horns, sitars, garage psychedelia about such things as Jesus and Satan on a reunion tour.



Somewhere the Chocolate Watchband is thinking "dammit, we should have used more sitar." Or played the guitar with a bow. 

Those Were The Days

Nostalgia is fun. It's a great mind trip. Music, TV, movies, books, etc. are great at taking us back.

I think Happy Days was my first exercise in artistic nostalgia. Of course, I was nine when it started airing in 1974. So it wasn't my nostalgia. But even at that age I got what it was.

We're now 60-some-years into the great rock & roll swindle, which is more than enough time to create our own nostalgia. But not all "old" rock music is nostalgic.

Some of it is timeless.

Timeless music is as fresh, adventurous, and challenging today as it did when it was recorded. It still jumps out of the speaker or off the stage; it raises the hair on your neck and punches you in the eye. Nostalgic music can be really, really good but it's also still part of a certain era. It may raise the hair on your arms but more because it's evoking an earlier time.

Elvis is timeless; Bill Haley and the Comets are nostalgic. The Beatles and Rolling Stones are timeless; The Who is nostalgic.* The Clash are timeless; The Sex Pistols are nostalgic. The Replacements are timeless. And drunk. Even if they're not, they always will be (maybe that's the nostalgia taking over).

I bring this up because I expected to engage in a good old fashioned nostalgia fest today. I put on Camper Van Beethoven's "Telephone Free Landslide Victory" aiming for a trip back to college.

To my surprise, I was reminded it's a timeless album. Considering how many indie rock cliches of 2012 "Telephone Free Landslide Victory" covers, it could have come out last week and been called Pitchfork's Best New Album.

Afro-pop and world influences (I'm looking at YOU Vampire Weekend)? A lot of Check! on that.



Organ fueled psychedelic throwback? Check!



Ironic punk cover? Check!**



Violin? Check!***



Americana influence? Check!



Vaguely-positive-closing-song-that-may-just-be-ironic-but-could-actually-be-a-hopeful-look-towards-the- future? Check



Slacker anthem? Check!



In fact, "Take The Skinheads Bowling" and "Club Med Sucks" are such under-the-top slacker anthems that when I build the Slacker Anthem Hall of Fame, both songs get their own wing.

If Camper Van Beethoven had put a new wave synth-pop song on the album, "Telephone Free Landslide Victory" would truly be the Rosetta Stone of today's indie rock. Camper Van Beethoven still exists today as does sister-band Cracker. Dave Lowery is a super smart guy (mathematician) who is also a fierce advocate for artists' rights in the digital age. But in the mid-80s, they were California punks who slowed it down. We didn't really even have a concept of indie rock, let alone that this was really cutting edge material.

Hearing it today? It could have been recorded last month (but in Brooklyn, not California).

*I love The Who. Growing up my musical universe revolved around "BealtesWhoStonesKinksHendrix." The Who's music is amazing, even today. But it just isn't timeless, it remains in the era it was recorded.

**My favorite of these was the Circle Jerks lounge version of  their own"When The Shit Hits The Fan" in the movie Repo Man, leading to Emilio Estevez's classic line: "I can't believe I used to like these guys."

***OK, that's more a Colorado string music jamband thing. 

A Crappy Cut On A Hero

Raise a toast to saint Joe Strummer

I think he might have been our only decent teacher...

--"Constructive Summer" - The Hold Steady

There's been a lot written and said this week about Joe Strummer, who would have turned 60 on Tuesday. A lot of it has been more than over-the-top about Strummer's and The Clash's impact on music and several generations of music fans.

And, that's just the way it should be. The Clash were kings of hyperbole; hyperbole they and their fans passionately believed. The Clash called themselves "the only band that matters" and they were right.

Many people this week talked about how The Clash changed their lives. I have my own story along those lines; anyone who loves The Clash can tell you the exact moment they first heard them and how it changed their life. The Clash were punk in a way that defined punk. You can't write about it, you can't wear it. You just have to listen to it to know what punk is and still is today.



Most of the paens to Strummer this week leave out the last official studio album by The Clash: Cut The Crap. This was recorded after Strummer and Paul Simonon had kicked Mick Jones out of the band; generally regarded as the end of The Clash. Strummer and Simonon recruited some young players for what is dubbed The Clash Mk II. Strummer donned an orange mohawk, made statements about returning The Clash to their punk roots, busked and toured, and recorded Cut The Crap.

The album is a mess musically. Without Jones input, the album's songs are primarily left to Strummer and manager Bernie Rhodes. The story is Strummer pretty much handed the whole project over to Rhodes (or Bernie stole it) and headed off to Spain to drown his sorrows. Critics subsequently savaged the record and The Clash soon came to a formal end.

I don't know how loud to say this, but the album isn't all that bad. It's clear that without Jones and depressed over the slow death of his band, Strummer wasn't really focused on this project. Yet, it contains a song rivaling The Clash's best: "This Is England."



After a boisterous and musically chaotic first side ("Dictator" is almost unlistenable; "We Are The Clash" has its heart in the right place but is a watered down message from "the only band that matters), "This Is England" kicks off the much better and more coherent side two. The sadness Strummer sees in England slides off the vinyl as minor chords and drum machines propel the song. Strummer's passion - something missing from the first side of Cut The Crap - makes a grand entrance; this is the Strummer we know.

What follows is a stretch of songs - "Three Card Trick," which sounds as it's from Sandinista and previews Strummer's later solo work>"Play To Win">"Fingerpoppin'">"North And South">"Life Is Wild" - that fit the tone set by "This is England." OK, maybe "Play To Win" isn't all that. Despite one misstep, the second side of Cut The Crap has some really great music.

Strummer's 60th birthday this week made me think a lot of The Clash Mk II period. It was the only time I got to see the band live. I don't care what version of The Clash it was, I was 18 years old and I was watching Joe Strummer belt out "I Fought The Law," "London Calling," "Rudie Can't Fail," and all the songs that helped me survive the muddle of those years. They still mattered.

There's a long article the current issue of Uncut about Strummer's post-Clash life and music which has a great story that sums up the hyperbole and passion of The Clash (which the band and its fans bought 100 percent).

At one point while in L.A., Strummer met up with Michael Hutchence of the then-red-hot INXS. Hutchence had girls hanging off him and Strummer said: "Wow, it must be really strange to be sex symbol."

"Well, you're Joe Strummer; you should know," Hutchence replied.

To which Strummer said: "No, I was never a sex symbol. I was just a spokesman for a generation."

Thanks for reminding us, Joe.

Summer Highatus

I'm back from my summer hiatus.

Summer hiatus after about 12 blog posts? Better than saying "I'm back from my summer being a lazy ass."

I may have mentioned previously my undying love for music festivals. There's a meme somewhere that states: "I want to live in a music festival forever."

That's me.

Music all day? I'm there.
Friends and community? Yep.
Many options of fried and unhealthy foods? You got it.
Coffee and energy drinks galore? Yes, Yes, YES!
No work? That's a pretty simple answer.
Assorted hedonistic and most likely illegal activities taking place pretty much non-stop? Ummm...is my wife reading this...?

Up to this summer, most of my music festivals have been focused in the jamband genre (still hate that term - is there a better one?). My favorite is Mountain Jam in the Catskills. I also have been going to Wanee in Florida, have hit Harvest Festival in Arkansas, and of course, NedFest in Colorado.

This summer I shook things up and attended Lollapalooza in Chicago. Not only was it the first urban (non-camping) fest I've been to in awhile, it was freakin' HUGE. I think attendance was something like 270,000 people over three days. It's a mile between the two main stages - with five stages in between. Largest fest I've been to recently was this year's Wanee (two nights of Allman Brothers Band/Furthur co-headlining) and that was probably about 30,000 people; about one-third of one day's attendance at Lollapalooza.

Did I mention no camping? My campsite was a hotel room across the street from the festival's main entrance. After years of heading back to a cold tent to sleep on the hard ground after a long day of music, I think I can get used to the urban festival.*

Most important, what I considered a pretty solid lineup ended up being a more than solid festival. This could turn into a very long and boring (if it's not already) post if I went through all the great sets I saw in Chicago.

The return of Afghan Whigs and At The Drive In? Neither has skipped a beat. Please hope the reunions stick.



Sigur Ros? Holy shit - a one hour set that deserves a War and Peace length dissertation. I may need to jump on the Denver-Reykjavik flight.

The War on Drugs and Sharon Van Etten back-to-back? Atmosphere and reverb slay the boiling sun.



Aloe Blacc? Ever seen an aging DeadHead participate in a Soul Train line dance?



Passion Pit? Their pre-fest show at the House of Blues came close to topping the entire weekend.

Black Sabbath? Powerful, earth shattering, and surprisingly emotional given Tony Iommi's battle with cancer.



FIDLAR? Punks on acid = an early afternoon mosh pit!



Red Hot Chili Peppers? 60,000 people crammed on a muddy field; 55,000 of them Bros. Who cares? The Peppers are still a tight unit with an enormous catalog.

The Shins? About as...hmmmm...ummm...boring?...as you'd expect. But those songs...!



Trampled By Turtles? Jamgrass for the corporately indie crowd.

Discovering Anamanaguchi, Kopecky Family Band, Bowerbirds, First Aid Kit, Hey Rosetta!, Michael Kiwanuka, and more? Glad I have Spotify.

Jack White? PRICELESS...



It's the Year of the Jack and his set Sunday night was the absolute best of the weekend. A taste of the energy level? Sixteen Saltines opened the show. A teeth rattlingly loud sonic exploration of his entire catalog. I don't know if anyone can touch Jack White this year (or any other year at this point).

I could go on and on. Yes, Lollapalooza is big and crowded (though it never got bad except for the Chili Peppers bro-fest). Yes there's a huge sponsor presence and it's about as indie as Goldman Sachs. Lollapalooza played a huge part in forcing alternative music into the mainstream in the early 90s back when it was a mess of a festival and a crazy good time. Except when they ran out of water the first year outside of DC during Nine Inch Nails midday set. DC summer heat + no water = scary good time.

Lollapalooza is still a crazy good time despite a much more mainstream feel. Chicago is a perfect location and I don't say that because it's my second hometown. Well, maybe I do. But check out the skyline as dusk settles while Jack White tears it up - beautiful.

Most of all, Lollapalooza was good because the music was good.

And, that's all that matters.


* Disclaimer: Yes, I know Lollapalooza is a big corporate festival. I noticed all the sponsors; I'm not blind. Though I think if I was blind I'd still know that I was in Red Bull/Google Play/Playstation/Bud Light/Toyota land. It goes with the territory of any large festival.

Radio Radio

There's a tower in the heart of London/With a radio station right at the top/They don't make the city beat/They're making all the action stop...


I love radio, I hate radio. 

I listen intently to radio. I mildly tolerate radio.


Going back to cassettes my Dad had of old time radio programs through my formative years listening to WLS-AM out of Chicago to today when I can pretty much listen to any station in any country at any time, radio has been a major part of why I love music. 


I remember  waiting, waiting, waiting on a boring weekend day in the 1970s with my AM radio headphones on for the local station to play "Easy" by the Commodores (more another time about my "Commodores Phase" but we don't know each other well enough yet). I remember making my Aunt Millie sit in her car in her driveway so I could hear all of "Long Time" by Boston. I remember when I first moved to Washington, DC in 1988 and the local "alternative" station actually played a song by Naked Raygun (I had just moved from Chicago). 

Specific moments tied to radio are touchpoints for me, even today. Yet they are less and less as radio becomes more and more homogenized. 


Warning, looks like this post will become a screed against corporate radio. Here comes the music snob rearing his ugly head and demanding we all bow down to the purity of HIS music...


Actually, no. Yes, most radio is warmed over milk. Yes, radio is the same in Seattle as it is in Portland (Maine - get it? Other side of the country!). Yes, you can't tell one radio personality from the next, because half the time it's the same guy broadcasting to hundreds of stations nationwide out of a studio in Los Angeles. Yes, radio plays the same songs over and over and over.* 


That doesn't bother me. I understand radio is a business. It's people doing a job and making a living. Kind of how our system works. The business side of radio has discovered that certain formats work better than others, people want to hear certain songs more than others, and goofy morning shows with sound effects sell BIG! Booooiiiinnngggggggg!!!!


I listen to commercial radio, especially people like Bret Saunders and Ginger on KBCO and Mike Casey on The Mountain. These are DJs who are not only talented broadcasters, they know and love music; it comes through to the listener. Though I'm waiting for the day Bret gives us a KBCO Morning Show consisting of four hours of Sun Ra. 





There are plenty of other options out there, from apps like TuneIn Radio (ever listen to the traffic reports from South Africa?) to Pandora to Spotify. But the move to more and more internet options often leaves the human element behind. I want some thought to go into the musical selection. I want someone to tell me what I'm hearing. What's the context? Which is why I'm spending more and more of my radio time these days with Colorado Public Radio's OpenAir.


One of these days I will bore you with a complete dissertation (maybe even footnotes!) on why I'm really loving OpenAir. What station do you hear Radiohead in the morning, and not what you'd expect but something like "The Daily Mail?" What station goes Tokyo Police Club>The Monkees>Pavement? What station has major, major music geeks (and I say that in the most complimentary of ways) as DJs? 


Listening to "Capital Radio One" it reminds me of a scene in The Future Is Unwritten, the documentary about Joe Strummer. At one point, Strummer stops by a radio station to promote a local gig. If I'm remembering the scene correctly, the weekend DJ spends his entire time asking about "Rock The Casbah" and "Should I Stay of Should I Go." It's clear the guy has no clue about the depth of Strummer's work with both The Clash and afterwards. And it's not the DJs fault; he's a broadcaster hired to play a bunch of songs decided by someone in a city far, far away. Joe Strummer is the guy who sings on two of those songs; what else would he ask about?


If you're looking for something more, try OpenAir: 1340 AM or streaming on the website. It's important that creative radio still have a home on dial (and not just left of it). 




*Did you know Cheap Trick has written a few more songs than "Surrender" and "I Want You To Want Me"? You wouldn't if you listened to the radio.

Revenge of the Sixth

It's the sixth of July. What better day to post about my favorite Fourth of July song?

So, I'm a few days late. It's one of those crazy holiday weeks where everything is thrown off by the day off in the middle of the week. Monday and Tuesday were like Thursday and Friday. Then we had a mini-weekend with Wednesday playing both Saturday and Sunday. And Thursday and Friday were like Monday and Tuesday. Yet now it's the weekend again. I'm just going to crawl into a shell until we get this all straightened out.*

Regardless, it's like the entire country took Thursday and Friday off this week. So technically most of you are still in a holiday weekend mode. Which makes this post completely legit by timecop standards.

Earlier this week, people with a better sense of timeliness posted about the best July 4th songs. Many of the lists are more traditional. But there's also a list for your folky Uncle Bob. And here's one for the shitkickers (more another time about how I really don't hate country music). I like this one from The Denver Post's local music site, Reverb.

However, they're all missing one song that should be (have been) part of every Independence Day celebration this year.



"Franklin's Tower" is one of the greatest and most uniquely American bands celebrating the birth of America.  Dead lyricist Robert Hunter explained it this way:

note that this song appeared in 1975, the year after my son was born and the year before the American Bicentennial. Both facts are entirely relevant. The allusion to the Liberty Bell and the situation of the Philadelphia Congress in the hometown of Ben Franklin has not gone unnoticed by other commentators.This song is a birthday wish both for my son and for my country, each young and subject to the winds of vicissitude. Individual and collective freedom, liberty, conscience, all that is conjured by those concepts, is suggested in the image of the tolling bell.

The live version from The Great American Music Hall (08/13/75) is one of my favorites. You're got Bill Graham introducing each band member as they build into the recently recorded Help On The Way>Slipknot>Franklin's Tower suite. There's a clarity and live urgency to this performance that makes it better than that on Blues for Allah. The Dead could often take their time getting warmed up for a show, sometimes not even hitting a good stride until the second set. Not this show - the entire band burns from the start.


OK - it's a few days late. And you can't put it on and light any fireworks (because if you do in my home state of Colorado, you deserve to have all your fingers blown off, you effin' bastard). But I'd argue this is better than just about any other ode to American Independence you can find. 


*And considering the storm raging in Conifer right now, that shell may be the only dry spot around. Can I express to you my absolute joy to not be at Red Rocks right now for String Cheese Incident? I really like the band and of course I love Red Rocks. And I hope all my friends there have a great time. But I decided to pass up this run. And as I watch the torrent of rain coming down right now, I'm amazingly OK with sitting on a couch, writing a bit, and listening to Twin Shadow.