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Lollapalooza ‘08, as of print time, is just four hours old, and you are not there because…
1) Ticket prices were too high due to insufficient corporate sponsorship
Sure gas prices are a bitch this summer, but tickets… whew! How can we be expected to pony up $200 for three days of music unless AT&T, Budweiser, and friends lend a bigger hand and put their names in more nooks and crannies? Write your Congressman and as him to vote for more endorsements to help make tickets more affordable. Outright selfish.
2) Everyone there is just like you.
The experience will remind you that everyone else will also blog out it for weeks to come, likes the same bands as you, and has at least three songs they’ve recorded on GarageBand sitting in their computer at home just waiting to be uploaded to myspace.
3) You’re too old for this.
You won’t admit it, but even during the first three years that you did go to Lollapalooza, you wished you were at home with a margarita that didn’t cost a week’s pay, air conditioning and predictability. You went so you didn’t have to avoid eye contact w/ friends who would come back the next day and say, “Oh, I saw [this band], and [that band], and [this other band] rocked…”. But don’t worry - they secretly wanted to stay home all along, just like you.
4) You’re too young for this.
This isn’t a Phish show, so don’t expect to walk into Grant Park and magically get high, or find some dude hocking pot brownies and rough crispies. That’s what you go to shows for anyway, so stay at home and don’t burn through the political capital you have w/ your parents… you’ll need it when they find your poorly hidden stash.
5) You don’t know any of the bands there.
Wait, that was Pitchfork… you mean…
5) It’s not indie enough.
You’ve seen Wilco before, so who cares? No one over 21 really likes the Raconteurs anyway. It’s just too mainstream.
So that’s why you’re at home wondering what you and your friends are going to do tonight. Maybe a Lollapalooza after-party! But that’s kind of lame seeing as how you didn’t go to the party in the first place. Fuck you.
Remember last week when I blatantly promoted Camera’s show at the Empty Bottle? No? Well, screw you because the show rocked and, and if you’d heeded certain advice you’d be agreeing w/ me right now before scrambling to mark their next show on your calendar (that is, August 23 at the Bottom Lounge on Lake St.). Meanwhile, you can download their worthy EP Fire & Science, wait until the LP comes out next year, or just read on and see what Joe, David & Ryan think about things. 5 things, to be exact:
1. when historians listen to your most recent CD 1000 years from now, what will they say?
“Bzz nrt blnkt blnkt” That’s robot for satisfactory.
2. if you could play a show with any band/musician living or dead, who would you pick and why?
Roxy Music so I wouldn’t have to pay for a ticket to see them, and um, they are awesome.
3. what is the strangest band-related dream (one of) you have had?
I had a dream that I was asked to play guitar for the Verve and the guitar itself kept falling out of tune while I was on stage. How embarrassing!
4. what do your fans look like?
Attractive youngsters and our parents.
5. what bullshit do you run into at most every show that makes you think “man, this bullshit again?””
Door cost at a show: $10. We bring in: 100 people. We get paid: $60.
bonus question: does the band have a favorite drink of choice?
Joe likes Vitamin Water, David likes uncaffeinated tea, and Ryan drinks synthetic
I know it’s been a while; I’m very aware. Call it laziness, call it writer’s block, call it procrastination. I call it all of those. However, I’m back. Yay.
It was in my full intentions this past Thursday night to go to The Spot, see a friend of mine perform in a burlesque number, and get as many beers as possible for my open-bar-fee. Once I’d had…however many I’d had…and my friend performed, I was just killing time as a band started setting up. I wasn’t really expecting much, seeing as we were in a small upstairs bar with a small upstairs stage in the midst of a small upstairs drunk audience. However, the venue matters not in the case of genuine art, and I was reminded of such a fact as the band started playing. I, in my drunken yet excited state, listened to the first song for a while, then yanked out my planner, grabbed my notepad, and started jotting. I would soon find out that this band’s name was Blah Blah Blah and their music would be right up my alley.
Normally, especially while imbibing alcoholic beverages, I listen to unfamiliar music and nit-pick at it, finding any and every aspect about it I don’t find in my favor so that I won’t have to bother with it. Pessimistic? Yes. Not with Blah Blah Blah. Their carefree approach to their music turned on me and I couldn’t help but bob my head along with the sun-soaked guitar strings laying out a plethora of flitting sounds from the amplifier.
“It’s as if someone opened your soul and poured sunshine in it,” replied band manager JA Powell when I asked him how he would describe their sound. Read more »
Chicago! Camera plays tomorrow night, and don’t miss this band, I mean it. The songs on myspace all stand tall, but don’t exactly belie the ground that this trio can cover. Nevertheless, this high-octane amalgam of My Bloody Valentine, The Cure, Stellastarr* and Jens Lekman (and a few others… I wonder if their long list of influences are necessarily artists that have saliently impacted them, or if some are on there for effect… nevertheless, their extensive appreciation for numerous styles shows in their own tunes) plays at the Empty Bottle tomorrow night at 9PM for a reasonable $7 cover - this is neither a show nor a band to be disregarded.
Seriously, listen to these tunes and tell me that you won’t think twice about attending the show. And for the record, I’m not on the band’s payroll and am not soliciting for them under contractual or even fraternal obligations… this band is plain good, and deserves all proper respect.
… I indulged in the pleasure of seeing last Friday night Phil Lesh & Friends, that is, the bassist for the Grateful Dead and his new band. So in my years, particularly those within and immediately following college, I amassed a hefty knowledge for the Dead’s catalogue, and found Phil & Friends the Dead offshoot most likely to deliver the deep-cuts.
Friday night was, for the hard-core at least, a pleasure to behold. Of course, I don’t get the feeling that there are many visitors to this site of that ilk, so I’ll spare you the tales of the mind-fuck it was to hear ‘Viola Lee Blues > Big Boss Man > Viola Lee > About Cell Block #9 > Viola Lee’, and that was just the end of the first set.
Nor will I delve into Levon Helm’s opening set, which made a case for The Band’s endurance as the quintessential ‘American Band’ (never mind that they were Canadians, not counting Helm), and also the Grammy he scored for last year’s Dirt Farmer. But I didn’t come here to tell you about that…
I love deodorant, okay? The hippie contempt for hygiene was one of many things that I could never understand that would eventually turn me off of the scene. Seriously, my buddy and I stood next to a dude (he resembled a tattooed bean-sprout) who reeked so bad that I had to bum one of his own cigarettes to keep the funk at bay. There’s that, and the issues of remaining solvent and functional had something to do with my change of lifestyle. Nevertheless, I continue to like the music.
But across town at Schuba’s was something much closer to the mid-60’s Frisco scene from which the Dead sprang, and the hopeless Heads endlessly romanticize. I’m talking about a Mexican-American-psychedelic pop outfit that operates under the name of Alla’.
So a 1/2 hour after P&F closes, I stumble into the CD release party of Alla’s debut Es Tiempo, an impressive disc seven-years in the coming. Trust me, go see the very next show, listen to their music… not later, but now. The hybrid of mind flower noise, pop melody and Mexican folk may, on paper, seen like too much to handle, just as to read their instrumentations appears overwhelming… not so. It is disciplined w/o being sanitized, and is full of astonishing feats that don’t beg for attention. The guest string section, appearance by the Occidental Brothers Dance Band International, and the zillion other friends that provided musical muscle to the night’s set were recipe-perfect parts impact, body and balance.
The lyrics, I’m told, take on bold topics, but they are sung in Spanish and, without the benefit of a translation, uni-linguists such as myself are at a disadvantage. Still, listening to an opera in English is nary as powerful as that which is sung in foreign or even ancient tongue, and so too do Alla’s songs take on a mystical tone as sung in the members’ native language. It seems highly unlikely that the songs, were they sung in English, would have such a momentous affect. They are too pristine, veridical, captivating in a way that can only come from great vision and love for heritage without slavishness to the past.
But the unfortunate ethos of Now is to see a band because they’re about to be big. That may be the case with Alla’ (pronounced ‘Aie - ya’, means “over there”), but that’s not the reason to perk up. Go now because they’ll torque your mind and their show is a thing of beauty (which applies to their lead singer Lupe Martinez as well). Latin music tends not to be my thing, being exposed to it largely against my will from the open windows of passing cars, but this has nothing to do with that madrepore of commercial drek on La Ley. In the hands of the Ledezma Brothers, Martinez, and the many other members and guests, the Mexican folk traditions are particularly potent. Alla’ makes me want to know more about the source of their inspiration, and also the extent to which they take this extremely promising experiment.
And in an era where businesses and bands are trying everything they can to get the buyer’s attention w/ gimmicks, it’s refreshing to see a band doing so with pure music.
“Have you seen these guys before?”
“No, this is my first actually. You?”
“This will be my sixth.”
When someones goes to see a band multiple times over in different cities it usually means one of two things: the band is absolutely worth seeing that many times or that particular fan is insane and a complete moron (see any Phish fan ever). From what I gather from my first experience at an Avett Brothers concert, I believe the former takes the cake on this one.
This show was a lot of first for me actually. First Avett concert, first time at the Chicago House of Blues and first real show I’ve been to since my weekend at Lollapalooza (my schedule and bank account blow). Needless to say I was pretty excited to see one of my favorite bands and they did not disappoint. Scott Avett opened the show on the drums to do a much more energized version of “Die, Die, Die” and it was very evident the crowd was into it from the floor actually dipping beneath my feet from jumping.
Once all the technical difficulties of poor Bob Crawford’s bass rig was figured out the set went up and down in terms of the moods of the songs, but the energy remained high the whole time. Slow songs like “The Ballad of Love and Hate” had everyone involved and even the answers given to crowd interjections by Seth Avett showed that even in a big house they could make it a personal show.
Two new songs played off the upcoming album The Gleam II were highlights of the set. “Murdered in the City” was a coy little tune with lyrics like “I wonder which brother is better / Which one our parents loved the most / I sure did get in lots of trouble / They seemed to let the other go” which were paired with small looks from both brothers. The encore number of “My Heart’s Like a Kick Drum” was surprising for me since it was almost more of an old Ben Fold’s 5 tune than the normal Avett folk-punk style.
Little additions to the show like a cello player on a good number of the tunes and guest appearances by tour mates Jessica and David Mayfield made all the difference in filling out the sound, which was especially fun on the set closer “Got To Sleep” where the crowd was left to sing and clap to the “La la…” melody of the song until they came back to finish up the song and do an encore.
Hard to believe the set was two hours long but after the time had passed (and the most broken banjo/guitar strings ever were restrung… poor roadie…) all left smiling, including myself. I’m sure the Avetts will be back soon so I can start adding up the number of their concerts I have attended. Until then, I’ll leave you with a video of “Murdered in the City” (although Seth also sang on the version tonight) so you can get excited for the new album like I am.
