So I've been away for over a month and a half. Sorry to be preoccupied and I'll post more often this fall. I was kind of driving around figuring things out, you know? Looking up the road for Tell Tale Signs, I suppose.
So I dropped my usual amount of peyote the other night before settling down to watch the AL East. Around the third inning or so, suddenly I was seized with a transcendent vision. Transported away to a mystical land, I saw four mighty spirits towering before me:
Okay, two mighty spirits, one kind of nutty spirit, and a decent, very lucky session spirit. They spoke to me about the truth of life and challenged me with a great riddle. When I successfully answered, they solemnly nodded, then compelled me to chose one of their own as a sacrifice. I made my selection...
And popular music legend Don Henley was taken out to the desert to die. I'm sorry everyone.
Anyway, most of that was probably just the peyote. On a much happier note, I saw the Eagles live in concert a couple of Saturdays back. I and twenty thousand or so other folks enjoyed the show, though the Washington Post reviewer did not. It's his loss. After thirty-five years, they still know how to deliver a great show. My parents saw their Long Run tour in 1979 back in my hometown of Roanoke, Va. Might not be a big deal otherwise, but Mom and Dad hardly ever went out much less went to a full on rock concert. (I'm pretty sure I played the Parker Brothers board game Sorry! with the lady who lived next to us while my parents waved lighters back and forth at the Civic Center. We may have also watched an episode of Rhoda, too. Or maybe this lady, who babysat me sometimes, just looked like Rhoda. Possibly both. Hey, it was 29 years ago, c'mon.)
I was excited to see Don Henley's wistful, evocative solo single "The Boys of Summer" performed live before a black and white backdrop similar to this famous 80s video. This is one of the best in a considerably overrated medium. It's a legitimate piece of art. Plus it's pretty funny they stuck Henley on the back of a flatbed truck and drove around at 4 in the morning filming him...
And speaking of deadhead stickers, here's The Dude himself. Though he and I have somewhat different musical tastes, unfortunately, I've had a number of days all too similar to this.
Tomorrow morning, I'll launch myself seven hours north by northwest to see Tom Waits live in concert. I had thought about flying to St. Louis to see the show last night (Tom's first in St. Louis in 30 years). However, as I was testing the online ticket waters an hour before that city's Central time zone general on sale, I clicked and scored such a stunning orchestra seat for the Columbus concert, I decided to just Sal and Dean myself to Ohio as an early birthday present to me. $4 gas? So what? This is a once in a lifetime event, man! This is living! The open road! This is rock and roll! (Plus, you know, uh, my wife saidit was, you know, okay that I went and all...)
Anyway, if I get there early enough tomorrow, I'll mess around Comfest. Should be a weekend for the ages. One I'll tell my kids about someday.
"Dad, you sure were pretty weird." "Were?" "Well, now you're kind of a kooky, even cool Dad." "Ah." "Yeah. Hey, do you happen to have ten bucks?"
Alison Krauss and Robert Plant played a great set at Merriweather Post Pavilion last week. Joined by producer and player T- Bone Burnett, they featured many songs off their acclaimed, in some ways unprecedented Raising Sandalbum from last year, as well as additional Americana songs and creative reworkings of songs from their respective catalogs of work. It was a superlative end to my June week of four outstanding concerts in seven days. (I felt like I was on tour!)
More adventurous fans of Plant and Krauss probably turned up for this one. They had played my hometown in Roanoke a week earlier, their first stateside date after being in Europe. I was disappointed the Roanoke Civic Center, where I graduated high school in 1989, was only half full. It was still a great concert, according to the Wall Street Journal.
Raising Sand's first single was a cover of the Everly Brothers' "Gone, Gone, Gone"
They did at least a few Zeppelin songs each night on the tour. Here's "Black Dog" picked out on a banjo by none other than Marc Ribot.
"The Battle of Evermore" was a highlight, in no small part due to Alison Krauss' keening vocals. The lyrics to this song are ridiculous, but, as you know, this woman could sing all strata of silly songs and make them compelling...
Two songs I hoped to hear were "In the Mood", a reworking of Robert Plant's early 80s hit. Amidst a crushing tide of new wave synthesizers in those years, Plant sustained a memorable wash of melody. (This song features one of the most incongruous videos I've ever seen. The genre juxtapositions are so off the wall, they're like outtakes from David St. Hubbin's failed hip-hop crossover.)
They did do "In the Mood," entwining it with an early 20th century murder ballad. I missed, however, their Bo Diddley tribute "Who Do You Love?" Unfortunately, they didn't play it, but 47 miles of barbed wire and cobra snakes for neckties were definitely there in spirit.
R.E.M. talked about the passion at Merriweather Post Pavilion Wednesday night. Their studio records for the past decade have dangerously drifted to detached irrelevancy. With 2004's listless, lifeless Around the Sun, they had lost nearly everything that endeared them to millions, including me. They remained strong as a live act from 1999 to then, but with the new material from last April's Accelerate album, they're back near the top of their game.
I enjoyed strong opening sets by The National and Modest Mouse, particularly the latter's during "Float On". Modest Mouse now features The Smiths alumnus Johnny Marr. Here he is jangle rocking alongside similarly iconic alternative guitarist Peter Buck during "Fall on Me"
Few performers are on or can even figure out his frequency. A real original. (Special thanks to my sister-in-law for my concert ticket - a fantastic early birthday present!)
I know you're a proud Gainesville native, Tom, but, jeez, did you actually have to bring the entire State of Florida to open for you this 2008 tour? (Really, it was Steve Winwood and he was great.) I was dying out there waiting for the sun to go down. You were no doubt back there in a really nice air-conditioned tour bus, weren't you, Tom? That's right. So you really don't know how it feels to be me, do you?
No, he was a good sport about what his fans were going through. "Nice to be with you here on a very humid southern night," he said. The sun did eventually go down, of course, but it was still muggy. The show definitely made that worthwhile, yes, but it must be said: The Waiting was the hardest part:
And I was impressed The Heartbreakers included "Bo Diddley is a Gunslinger" in the encore. So with Sunday night's scorching show, I'm pretty much done forever with Nissan Pavilion. Biblical rain and the surface of the sun itself, respectively, the last two times out? Hmm. Think they're trying to tell me something?
I experienced more live music joy at yet another sold out 930 Club concert this past Friday night. Rilo Kiley came through the Mid-Atlantic again in support of their 2007 album Under the Blacklight. It's a sexy, even sleazy but spirited examination of a West Coast milieu, particularly love and loss in the City of Angels. Reminds me of some of the darker material mined not just by Fleetwood Mac, whom the band is often compared to, but also The Eagles on their much-maligned 1979 The Long Runalbum. (I imagine "The Disco Strangler" is dangerously lurking somewhere underneath that blacklight, and even The Moneymaker might end up serving time in a "Teenage Jail".)
I first discovered Rilo Kiley's music in 2004 with More Adventurous. Elvis Costello had recommended singer songwriter Jenny Lewis for her lyrics and melodies. (Elvis collaborated this spring with her on his fantastic new album Momofuku, which I also recommend.) Jenny also released her first solo album in 2006 - Rabbit Fur Coat. It was also well-received.
I particularly love "Silver Lining" from Under the Blacklight. When they peformed this song at the concert, they tossed large silver balloons into the air the crowd bounced around until the balloons popped and released gold confetti:
This video for "The Moneymaker" allegedly features real and aspiring porn actors. That's notable, especially in how young the fanbase skewed at the 930 Club Friday. I was easily 15 or 20 years older, and maybe a few more than that, than nearly everybody around me. (Seriously, I felt a little like Jason Bateman's character in Juno.)
"Portions for Foxes"
Lastly, I want to brag that Jenny sang a verse of "With Arms Outstretched" looking directly at me. Of course, maybe that's because I was all alone in my Soccer Dad glory up near the front row. Hey, nineteen - maybe we can dance together...
Don't let those glasses fool you. Among the early architects of Rock and Roll, none had a more bad-assed sound than Bo Diddley. A 1987 Hall of Fame inductee, he passed away today at age 79.
Let's have a moment of silence....
Okay, now turn up the volume, watch this whole clip, and tell me who do you love?
No, it wasn't the second coming nor a ghostly cameo. Still, Warren Zevon's presence was at undeniable at the 930 Club on May 9th as the Drive-By Truckers roared through over two hours of gritty, thoughtful, and, at times, profane rock. Warren would've been proud.
The 2008 Homefront Tour is in support of DBT's latest album Brighter Than Creation's Dark. This was my third time seeing them live, having been baptized at an amazing '06 concert so vital that singer/songwriter Patterson Hood credits that show with restoring his faith in performing live music. I was there in the front row and had a similar revelation.
The Truckers' songs are often as sharply, bitterly observant yet laced with dark humor as Zevon's were. There's also hope, too. The grim realities of life require at least sarcasm and sometimes scorn, and usually those two qualities are better served when mixed with the right amount of sincerity. At his best, Zevon could and the Truckers still craft these kinds of songs and that's a compelling reason, one of many, fans keep returning to their respective bodies work.
That said, I'm still on the fence regarding how much of Zevon's savage "Play It All Night Long" from 1980's Bad Luck Streak in Dancing Schoolis not a mean-spirited blast not to actual country folk but to a perceived image of rural America. Warren often walked a greasy tightrope regarding his lyrical intentions. How serious can a song be with lyrics like "The cattle all have brucellosis, we'll get through somehow"?
The Truckers take Zevon's ostensible joke to the next level, however, by infusing the lyrics with their considerable heft. Much like how Elvis Costello reinvigorated Nick Lowe's mild and trippy "(What's So Funny Bout) Peace, Love, and Understanding?" with wounded but defiant idealism, DBT's version of "Play It All Night Long" is not cheeky and sneaky but rather a howling, visceral open wound, one that large swaths of red and blue America both can relate to.
(My apologies if this next clip doesn't sell you on what I just wrote. Truth is, to quote another Zevon song Patterson quotes if you listen carefully, this aint' that pretty at all.)
The Drive-By Truckers are arguably the best rock band playing today. When they're on their game, and they usually are, they're better than even Springsteen at articulating working class hopes and fears. And, like Zevon, they frequently lace their songs with memorably dark wit. I can't recommend seeing them enough.
I've never seen him live and he rarely tours anymore. I expect nothing less than a once in a lifetime thrill, frankly. The last time I drove to the wilds of Ohio for live music was in October 2004. I saw one of the most emotional, incredible, and hopeful concerts I've ever experienced. I even went to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame after that. A hard act to follow, surely, yet I expect Tom Waits to surpass even that high standard. Why? He's a compelling, fascinating, wholly unique individual so striking it's impossible to take your eyes away, as evidenced by these photos of unique beauty:
Yeah, obviously very memorable and, uh, ...oh! Yeah. That reminds me. (Sorry, guess my mind kind of drifted there for a sec.) There's some other Tom Waits related news this week...
Somewhere, David Gilmour is still doubled over laughing like hell. They reunited for Live 8 a few years back, performing together as Pink Floyd for the first time in two and a half decades, but he and Roger Waters had one of the most acrimonious splits in pop music. Moreover, while he's still got the rights to the name, Gilmour also has some impressive friends willing to step up when he needs a vocalist.
I've seen Elvis Costello a couple of times at the Beacon, once way up in the back of the third balcony tier and later on the ground level not too far from the stage. It's a great venue for an intimate concert. I always enjoyed looking up at the marquee on my way back up Broadway when I worked in in Midtown back in the early '00s.
Seeing the band play in IMAX was such a visceral experience, it's honestly hard to describe. Imagine sixty feet tall musicians, and you'll begin to have some idea.
Speaking of giants, during the scene when Buddy Guy guests on the Stones' cover of Muddy Waters' "Champagne and Reefer", I smiled and recalled how, way back in 1965, they refused to play on an ABC show called Shindig unless the one and only Howlin' Wolf, a blues master with a tremendous influence on rock music, could peform, too. This was the Wolf's only national television appearance. Notice how the Stones meekly (and wisely) remain seated nearby in reverence.
He later went on to eat every one of those wiggling white girls alive.
It was a rocking Friday night at the State Theater in Falls Church as a sold out crowd took in Lez Zeppelin's performance of the legendary first album in its entirity. The last time I saw the ladies, at the same place, back in 2005, the venue was half to two-thirds full and they played a greatest hits set. This time, it was sold out and packed as they tracked through the eponymous 1969 debut. (The one with the big flaming d**k on the cover.) There are probably hundreds if not thousands of Zeppelin tribute bands, but gleeful gender subversion is Lez Zep's key appeal which likely makes them the most interesting as well as the most commercially successful. They're like Camille Paglia's most fevered wet dream not involving Madonna and/or herself.
Having seen "Phantom Dan" behind the keyboards at many E-Street concerts, most recently this past fall on the Magic tour, I, like countless other fans, am deeply saddened by this loss. As anyone who's been to a Springsteen show can passionately attest, it's an electric family revival hearing this material performed live.
Here's the goodbye at Danny's last show with the E-Street Band, on November 19th, 2007 ,before he took a leave of absence last fall for cancer treatment:
I had just seen them in concert, with Danny, a week earlier in DC. I'm wearing my 2007 tour baseball jersey in memoriam today at work. I dare HR to say something to me (it is casual Friday).
A clip from Danny's surprise brief return to the stage last month in Indianapolis:
"So let's take the good times as they go And I'll meet you further on up the road"
RIP, Danny. Thanks more than I and hundreds of thousands of other E-Street fans could ever say for your significant contributions to some of the best music I've heard and performances I've ever seen.
After a few days immersion in Accelerate, their first album of new material in four years, I'm pleased to report that R.E.M. has officially returned to form. Peter Buck, despite the best efforts of his arguably more listless bandmates, flipped the giant studio recording switch from "SUCKS" to "DOES NOT SUCK".
Prince is the purple elephant in the room regarding all other Minneapolis musicians. Far and away, he is the most influential, the most critically and commercially successful artist originally hailing from the Twin Cities. Dave Pirner has yet to accept this simple truth and consequently wanders third tier clubs across the country and drinks bitterly to this day.
I called Prince a few times last week to try and meet up. Charlie Murphy gave me his number. The Artist never returned my calls, though. I probably shouldn't have drunk dialed him and slurred "Batdance" into his voicemail, huh? Yeah, probably. I always blow these opportunities. Plus now his phalanx of Paisley Park lawyers will probably sue me. I don't care, though. Sign O' The Times is still one of the best albums of all time.
Not sure how I did this, but, despite the best efforts of Ticketbastard crashing my web browser, I still somehow got a great ticket this past Saturday morning for Radiohead at the Nissan Pavilion on May 11th. (Now the show is sold out.)
I'm in section 101, behind "the Pit", a general admission, SRO mass huddle for the youthfully disaffected. Normally, I'd stand, but, since I'm in my mid-thirties now, I'll take a nearby seat with a great view if it's available. (Plus I can still bang my head up and down during "Planet Telex" or "The Bends", should the guys roar through those now 13 year-old riffs.)
I last saw Radiohead in 2003 on the Hail to the Thief tour. That concert was at Merriweather Post Pavilion, and I was on the lawn. I decided this time to go for broke and get a better seat, which I did. Better still is I didn't remotely go broke - top tier tickets were only $61. Quite reasonable in this day of egregiou$ re$ale$ on $tubhub.com or wherever else people go to get raped by the concert industry.
I definitely want to hear "Fake Plastic Trees" live, since they didn't play it the other time I saw them. Though I've never tried to quantify them, that may be my single favorite song from the 90s:
Away From Heris a good but heartbreaking movie, well deserving of its many accolades. (It premiered at the Toronto Film Festival in 2006, when I was there for a conference. My wife, who loves to tag along when I travel for work, stalked all the red carpet events, and I think she may have seen the luminous Julie Christie, who is as beautiful today as she was 40 years ago.
These days, I have Yo La Tengo's "Tom Courtenay" in my head more often since Ms. Christie's in the media for her Oscar nomination. That's not a bad thing at all.