First, major shout out to my new pals, Sam and Matt, who took pity on the "old lady"(my term, not theirs, they rocked it hard) in the line for the free Hold Steady show on Thursday night, and reminded her first why front row jammed against the stage is awesome, but also why she was never really a "pit girl".

So, yes, let's talk about what I just said there--free Hold Steady show. At the Paradise in Boston, my favorite Boston club ever. I can't remember where I saw the advertisement for this first; I just knew I had to jump on it. I've talked about this band before. Still linking to the new album stream (which sounded unbelievable live, but I'll get to that in a second). So, I RSVP'd immediately, and planned to be in line at the Paradise by 6:00 to ensure entry, banking on the indie kids not being able to get organized that quickly. Again, apologies to my buddies from the line; that statement is in no way a reflection on you, as you were there right behind me and the 30 or so other people who had queued up by 6:00. I even got a good parking space on the street.

The mood in the, at that point, short, line was electric. Originally, I had thought I'd sit there with my iPod and people watch, but I was too excited to be in place to get into this show. So, when Matt and Sam got in line right after me, we struck up a conversation, which continued into the front room of the club, where they let us wait due to fears of rain. Oh, and to the guy who drove up from New York, and bought all that beer and disappeared? You should have bought bottles and keg cups; it would have been much easier to smuggle in. We left it in good hands, though. Now, I'm not entirely sure why Matt and Sam and I hit it off so well--could have been the ridiculous list of shows I can rattle off, the band names we all dropped trying to prove our cred, or the fact that I get bouncy when I get excited about something (literally and figuratively). Whatever. We had a great time. Sam even waited while the door man sorted out where my email confirmation was, and let me in. Sam also convinced me that front row, rather than my standard spot in the balcony, was the way to go for this gig. Forgetting what I observed at the last Hold Steady show I went to, I went along with my new pals.

Opening band Aberdeen City were pretty good. The lead singer certainly was rocking the Ian Curtis/Interpol look, and the sound was very dirgey, leaden bass, with somewhat jangly melodies, and a drum sound that almost knocked me into the back bar--outstanding, really. But as good as they were, nothing really compared to Finn and the boys. They took the stage, and after ripping through the opening number, "Constructive Summer", Craig let on that he'd been to many shows there during his, and my, BC days (yet ANOTHER spot I probably ran into him in my youth, we are ships in the night, Mr. Finn), he'd always wanted to play there, and this was their first time. And slammed through "The Swish". The set list was nicely populated with old and new. Aside from the previously mentioned, "The Swish", "Stevie Nix", "Knuckles", and "Don't Let Me Explode" were songs I wanted to hear, and were pure power. However, it was about halfway through, "Yeah Sapphire" that I realized I could no longer ride that wave.

Jammed up against the stage worked really well for Aberdeen City. Good band, nice groove, no elbows in my glasses. But, the Hold Steady were an entirely different energy, egged on by Finn's frenetic sputtering and jumping and gesticulating. This is by no means a BAD thing; however, it's been many years since I've had to hold a position in a pit. The sway and crush began two notes into the first song; by the fourth, I was ready to break all pit etiquette and smash the face of this one drunk girl who was trying to get in front of me. However, having been to approximately 487 live shows at the Paradise over my lifetime, I knew that all I had to do was get back 5 feet to the center pillar, where I could lean, be close enough to grab some great shots and feel the energy, but not break anything valuable. Like my nose, or a toe, or something. After nearly getting trampled in the pit at a Ramones show, I know my pit limits, and I bailed. Five feet backward, though, I had the pillar for support, and I proceeded to rock out. Besides, next to the pillar, I got to do this.

As much as the old favorites were crowd pleasers (as it is with all bands), the new material really shone last night. A little less druggy and bloody, but as romantic and wild as any other of their albums. And by romantic, I mean grand sweeping tales with high drama, and higher kids, Don Quixote stabbing at windmills romance. Dreaming the impossible dream of one last great party. Thursday night was a great party. They closed the regular set with "Your Little Hoodrat Friend" and "Slapped Actress", from the new album, and I thought I would explode. Because The Hold Steady, for me, are everything good about the music I love--all of it, in all its schizophrenic glory--rolled into one loud, growling poetic package. And when you get a band that understands BOTH the power of the 70s stadium anthem AND the 80s all-ages hardcore matinee, and channels them into the perfect bar band rocker, how can you NOT just combust from sheer joy?

Sam and Matt found me at the end, glad I was just chilling in the back. We parted ways, (Sam, you have this address), drunk from the rush, at least I was. I'm still drunk from it, and I feel my Hold Steady evangelism rising again. It's going to be a great summer.

Labels: indie cougar, live music, The Hold Steady

Courtney sez: Oh, wait, that was 18 and Life. Sorry Sebastian and friends, for mutilating your masterpiece. Which leads me to the title. My dear co-conspirator IM's me to suggest that we confess to the most embarassing songs in our iTunes. Apparently, after the quirks post, he's in a "bless me Father, for I have sinned" kind of mood. Whatever. It's a fantastic idea. We decided to limit it to 15 each, or we'd be writing lists for a month, as he put it.
So, I'll start.
1. The Electric Slide. Yes, this lives (for now) on my iTunes. You see, my sisters and I have a very outgoing group of girlfriends, who will find any excuse to dance when we're in the same room together. We threw a party last Christmas. I was in charge of music, and as much as I protested, I was given this song to put on the playlist. I will state emphatically that I cannot do this dance, despite repeated drunken attempts to teach me. Thank goodness for small blessings.
2. Cowboy, Kid Rock. Same situation as above.
3. It's So Hard to Say Goodbye, Boyz II Men. Shut up.
4. MMMBop, Hanson. Stop laughing at me!
5. Silent Lucidity, Queensryche. Admit it, you listened. More than once.
6. Love Will Keep Us Together, Captain and Tenille. At least it's not Muskrat Love, ok?
7. I Love You, Climax Blues Band.
8. Queen of Hearts, Juice Newton. I don't know why I haven't deleted this.
9. Zombie Nation, Kerncraft400. And I play it every time I watch a hockey game and my team scores a goal. THAT'S what makes that one embarassing. Proof that I'm a TOOL.
10. Jump, KrissKross.
11. Break Stuff, Limp Bizkit. What was the line, earlier? Proustian poetry? Whatever. When I'm in a bad mood, this hits the spot.
12. Carried Away, George Strait. It arrived on a mix, and unfortunately, I really kind of like it.
13. Maneater, Nelly Furtado. This song is excellent, and it took Richard Thompson to make me realize it.
14. The entire Partridge Family Christmas album. My Christmas collection alone could be its own list.
15. It's Been Awhile, Staind. This song and Good Riddance from Green Day are tied for songs I really should hate with all my heart and soul, but I just don't. The only reason Green Day didn't make the list is that I DON'T ACTUALLY HAVE IT---HAHAHA!! But, yeah, I copped to Staind. Go figure.

MJ, hon, your turn in the confessional...


MJ sez: Okay, first off, do NOT hate on the Partridge Family. I'm completely serious.

Good lord, that's a massive list. Since I have a few of these in my collection, I'll avoid repeats.

Commence embarrassment...now.
1. Making Love Out Of Nothing At All - Air Supply. I also have All Out Of Love AND Lost in Love. Get the feeling that Air Supply had a thing with "love"? Yeah, and I have all three in my list.
2. Pieces of Me - Ashlee Simpson. She's awful. Seriously effing awful. Why this still resides in my list, I have no idea.
3. I Saw Red - Warrant. Ah, Warrant. No-talent, sexist dickheads. Yet, I have this and two other songs of theirs.
4. As Good As I Once Was - Toby Keith. Toby Keith sucks ass. There, I said it. That being said, I have NO idea how this got in my list.
5. Seasons In The Sun - Terry Jacks. I dunno, the 70's are my favorite musical era, to be sure, but this song is really...lame.
6. Informer - Snow. I also have Ice, Ice Baby, but that still has some weird form of street cred. This one is just stupid and ridiculous.
7. SClubParty - SClub7. One of the MOST forgettable English dance groups to come out in the last 20 years. Not for me, though.
8. Loving You - Minnie Riperton. Just an awful song, but always good for a laugh when you get drunk and feel like imitating the chorus.
9. Boom, I Got Your Boyfriend - MC Luscious. She's also got your man. Horrible production and shitty rapping. Why it's in my list, I'll never know.
10. Baby, Don't Get Hooked On Me - Mac Davis. This one, I'm just embarrassed about. The song isn't bad, for what it is. But man, Mac Davis.
11. Reminiscing - Little River Band. Walking through the park and reminiscing. Uh huh. That's what they wanted to do.
12. Milkshake - Kelis. I'm embarassed about knowing most of the words to this, and also occasionally singing them under my breath.
13. Three Little Pigs - Green Jello. No comment.
14. Fresh Feeling - Eels. I HATE the Eels. Loathe. No idea why this exists.
15. Tiny Bubbles - Don Ho. I think I downloaded this for some Hawaiian-themed party we were having. 5 or 6 years ago. It's survived a lot of purges. How, I don't know.

Okay, now, what are YOURS?

Labels: BFF, embarassing music, lists

I thought I wanted to write much more about this album, but it turns out, not so much. I love this band, and I love this newest release, for all its throwback-to-the-70s goodness, and different intsrumentations, and Jack White's deconstruction/reconstruction of the blues. There's a few clunkers, to be sure, but this song isn't one of them. I find myself hitting repeat on this one frequently, as I'm cruising down the road. Since this cd has only briefly left my car since I purchased it in March, you can pretty much rest assured it's worth the listen.

There's other good stuff brewing; MJ came up with a musical comedy gold piece. Stay tuned. Until then, enjoy your weekend, kids. Hugs, smooches, tequilla shots for all.

Old Enough - The Raconteurs

I promised to talk about musical quirks that I have, based on a meme that my co-conspirator here did on her mainstream blog. The rules of the original meme were that you had to name 6 quirky things about yourself, and I was challenged to admit some musical quirks that I have, that only a few know.

So here we go:
1. I don't hate on Boy Bands. I think they have their place, and I think the catchy, poppy, sing-song type of efforts they put out are okay. I will admit to enjoying "Bye, Bye, Bye" and "I Want It That Way" by N*Sync and Backstreet Boys, collectively. I also got to ride in an elevator once with all five New Kids once, when they were the biggest things in the world, and I have to admit, it was a pretty cool moment. So yeah. I don't hate Boy Bands.

2. In that same vein, I also have to admit to an enjoyment of certain so-called "power ballads" and songs such as "One More Time" by a bloke called Timmy T, roundabout 1990 or so. I have "Fly To The Angels" by Slaughter, "More Than Words" by Extreme, and "Every Rose Has It's Thorns" by Poison in my iPod music list. I still know all the words, and I can still sing'em all in the car after a few pints, at peak volume.

3. I didn't discover Iron Maiden until after they were pretty much done as being a force in the world of metal, but man, I think Bruce Dickinson was a fucking brilliant singer. I was never really into showy metal, like Maiden or Queensryche, bands that made a big deal out of the presentation of their shows, but I definitely feel like I missed the boat a bit with Maiden. Tight band, with cool lyrics, and a really fantastic singer. So yes, I'm on the Iron Maiden bandwagon, though much later than I should have been.

4. Everyone knows I think "Almost Famous" is probably the best rock and roll movie that I've seen. However, I will admit that I think the movie "Rock Star" with Mark Wahlberg and Jennifer Anniston is really pretty good, and I also will admit to liking "School of Rock". Also, "The Committments" is truly underrated, and you should seek it out if you've never seen it.

5. When Led Zeppelin slip in "Lord of the Rings" references into their songs, I get hard/wet/pick your sexual innuendo. Don't ask me why, but it's like putting melted cheese on peanut butter. Two great tastes that taste great together. You heard me.

6. I would have slept with 3 of the Bangles, but only two of the Go-Go's. I'll leave it to you to decide who those would have been.

Man, I am SUCH a loser.

Cue up the latest Lester Bangs rant:

Is it for me to decide that "terrestrial" radio as we know it, is over? I've decided that I'm right. It's over. The endless commercials. The limited playlists. The jocks that all have the same schtick.

People want to listen to their favorite songs, the newest hits, or a personalized playlist from a friend or lover. We've entered the era of instant, on-demand satisfaction. I know that I'm completely over the radio. I could happily exist without listening to an album-oriented rock station for the rest of my life. My iPod is the center of my universe.

I listen to podcasts, make playlists, watch movies and television shows, and generally treat it as my significant other at this point. It is never far from my reach, I use it to wake me up in the morning, it travels with me to work and to home, to the grocery store, to the mall, and overseas. I probably take care of it better than I take care of the house plants my sister insists on giving me.

Radio, even satellite radio, doesn't interest me at this point. Sure, I'll put one of the satellite stations on in the background if I'm cleaning or washing dishes, something classical or 70's oriented, just to maybe hear something I haven't heard before. It's fine for 20 to 30 minutes at a time, but I couldn't live my life without being able to pop on my 70's playlist in the car and just know that "Fooled Around And Fell In Love" will be the third song, followed by "Little Green Bag". I know that the idea of radio is still somewhat valid, certainly Talk Radio has it's place. I cannot begin to listen to sports-talk oriented radio anymore, and the political end of that spectrum doesn't interest me much either. For me, specifically, it's all a cold corpse. I can see the values for others though, as another part of this era is that people feel the need to express their opinions somehow, much like I'm doing here.

Ultimately, I have good memories of my relationship with radio, as it introduced me to some amazing music back when I was much younger. Sadly, though, it's run it's course for me. I prefer my own programming, thank you very much.

Labels: Radio

The Hold Steady are streaming their new album from their myspace page.

It drops in July, but I'll have this link open until the release date.

Go. Listen. You know how I am about The Hold Steady.

Labels: album streams, The Hold Steady

One might wonder why I would title my review of Robert Plant and Alison Krauss' show at Mohegan Sun last night with a line from "The Battle of Evermore". Well, it was about that point in the song where I realized I was hearing the voice of God coming from the stage, and I stopped breathing. I only slightly exaggerate.

I knew that there would have to be some Led Zeppelin worked into this set list; the album they collaborated on is not particularly long, and Robert Plant cannot help but, well, be Robert Plant. So, Brian and I discussed this possibility on the way down to the casino, and during dinner. He'd heard rumors of "Hey, Hey, What Can I Do" coming out at other dates. I was also hoping for some of Alison's material as well; her work with Union Station is legendary, and her voice is like that of an angel. Three songs into the night, a particularly bluesy number from Physical Grafitti made its way into the set. Then later, Alison soloed on songs from "O Brother Where Art Thou", particularly "Down In The River". Which was a stunner, even without Gillian Welch and Emmylou Harris. Even T-Bone Burnett had a few numbers mid-set, and they were incredible. This unbelievable fusion of roots music and blues and early rock and roll and rhythm and blues. And then, the final song of the main set.

We heard the familiar mandolin introduction, and Brian, his friend Dave and I kept looking back and forth at each other, to try and confirm if we were really hearing what we thought we were hearing. And then it hit me, yes, it's Evermore. And Alison's going to sing the high responses (ooo, dance in the dark night, sing to the morning light). And I had to sit down for a minute. I was waving my hand in front of my face, like I was trying to stave off heat stroke. That performance was probably one of the most musically intense performances I've ever witnessed in my entire life. A stellar band, mixed with crystal clear sound, so that every nuance of every note shone strong, and two voices that twist around each other like molten silver and gold, and I seriously thought that I could DIE at that moment and go to the afterlife completely fulfilled.

This was the capping moment to a show that was filled with stunning musical performances. I know I cried at least four or five different times during the set, current headspace notwithstanding (although, I'm sure it contributed to the emotional overload). But I could not have had a better time. If they're coming near you, GO SEE THIS SHOW. Seriously. Do not miss this.

Labels: Alison Krauss, live music, Robert Plant, seeing god

...courtesy of the record label. Good to have friends.

Stick With Me Baby - Robert Plant and Alison Krauss

Labels: Alison Krauss, live music, Robert Plant

Bob Dylan

Labels: BFF, Bob Dylan

How is a bio-pic not a bio-pic? I'm Not There claims to be just this. Director Todd Haynes' homage to Dylan plays with the different personas Bob has been assigned during his decades-long career. The bio-pic part of this movie touches on Dylan's homage to Woodie Guthrie in the hospital, the rising folk scene in Greenwich Village in the early 60's, and the dissolution of a marriage that led to the seminal Blood on the Tracks. All of these things occured.

What takes this out of the strict bio-pic genre is that Haynes treats each of these eras of Dylan uniquely, as if they were six entirely different people, in fact, acted by six different actors. The persona becomes character, which becomes its own storyline, connected, but not connected. Example: The early 60s folk Dylan, played by Christian Bale as a singer named Jack Rollins is later immortalized in film by Heath Ledger, playing actor Robbie Clark, whose marriage dissolves in the same fashion detailed in Blood on the Tracks. It was an intricate and intelligent and unusual treatment, making an iconic popular figure six different figures in order to properly tell his tale. Is it even properly told, though?

All of the different segments are good, but the best characters are Jude Quinn, played by Cate Blanchett, who obviously studied the Don't Look Back era Dylan intricately. She becomes Dylan, and not yet Dylan. This segment also features a fantastic cameo by David Cross, as the poet Allen Ginsburg. Heath Ledger's Robbie Clark is also excellently executed. His scenes also heavily borrow some classic Dylan album imagery, both in the lyrical and visual sense. There is a scene where he is walking down a New York street, arm around his French girlfriend Claire, and you swear he's walking into the cover of The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan. Images like this abound in the film. Haynes plays with classic footage of the real Dylan to inform his characters, and makes each of them as real and believable as the man himself.

It's a problematic film though. Casual fans of Dylan may be confused. "Did this really happen? I thought his name was Robert Zimmerman? He didn't grow up in Brookline." The non-linear narrative certainly doesn't help in that regard, and the Billy the Kid sequences seem almost unnecessary and too fantastic, even in the context of this fantasy. Hardcore fans may not appreciate the tinkering with the image of their icon. But the intermediate fan, like me, particularly the fan of the mid-60's to mid-70s Dylan, will find this film fascinating.

Trailer.

Labels: Bob Dylan, film, i'm not there