Shock Mountain

In Columbus tonight, Times New Viking played a show. Because it was a hometown show, a lot of people in the crowd were fired up and dancing. However, also because Columbus is Columbus, many people chose to just stand in the back with their arms crossed. First off, there’s nothing wrong with standing in the back. If you’re not at the show to dance, by all means, don’t. Just don’t create an uncomfortable environment for people who want to dance.

That being said, tonight at this show, I was both shocked and frightened by my experience tonight. If you’re ever been to a show where a solid amount of dancing is present, you’ve encountered the three rings.

1. The Inner Ring – This is where people dance. Bodies are colliding, people are flying, generally a sweaty mess.

2. The Barrier – This is where people stand if they don’t want to dance at the moment/don’t mind getting jostled. Generally, people that stand here will push people from the inner ring back into the inner ring if they careen too close to the outside where they could disturb fellow attendees.

3. The Outer Area – This is where people stand if they just want to watch the show without being jostled or hit. Generally, standing room is plentiful here and you won’t be pushed more than once or twice.

That being said, I was standing on the barrier at the moment, using my six-foot, 150-pound frame to keep people from breaking the barrier. How is this achieved? You push people back into the Inner Ring. Sometimes, if people are off-balance, they might fall over, yes, but normally they are immediately helped back up (I have never experienced a show where anyone is in serious danger of being trampled). Now, I’m definitely not the strongest person in the world, and most of the time I get pushed back more than I push forward. I don’t send people flying or anything like that. At one point, a guy who I talked to after the show and said he took no offense started spinning towards me, and I pushed him back to the center. He did not fall over and showed no signs of offense. Immediately after this, however, a hand grabbed me by the front of my shirt collar and I was face-to-face with a man about my size who yelled “CALM THE FUCK DOWN” in my face. Needless to say, I was shocked. I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong, I was just trying to enjoy myself and keep a positive atmosphere. Luckily, Times New Viking had two songs left, so my daze didn’t keep me from missing too much.

After they had finished, I turned around to try to find the guy and try to apologize. I figured maybe I had accidentally spilled his beer or something. When I did find him, he immediately got in my face and stated that I was “just pushing people, which is fucking rude” and that if I wanted to dance, that was fine, but “this is 2009 and this is an indie show, so stop moshing”. All the while, I was trying to stammer out an apology, but kept being told that I needed to “grow up”. Now, this man was not affiliated with any of the staff of the Summit (who are pleasant people whom I’ve never had any issues with), so I don’t think it was his call unless I was putting others not dancing in danger. By my logic, I was attempting to keep others from harm and let everyone at the show have fun. As mentioned earlier, in taking with other dancing kids outside the venue, they confirmed that I had done nothing wrong and was at no fault.

So, I guess my question is, do you guys think I was at fault? Is pushing people to keep the barrier excessive? At what point does dancing for fun turn into moshing? Hearing your views on the subject would be totally awesome and appreciated. It was a sweet show though!

Love ya Columbus!

-McKenna

There has been very few times in my life that I have felt a sense of community in the music scene where I live. It’s something that most avid fans crave, but many miss out on. This was not the case at the 3^rd annual Do It Together Festival, which took place in Kent this past weekend. Having attended last year, I decided that 20 miles was not by any means too far of a bike ride for the event. The majority of the crowd performed at one point or another during the two daylong music festival.  It was a time of coming together to support each other, but it was more than that. It felt more like hanging out with your friends than being at a rock show. I say this as someone who vaguely knows the individuals in these bands and someone who didn’t even perform. The line between musicians and music appreciators were blurred to the point where it was indiscernible.  What’s more is that the stage was only a few inches high and people sat on the ground for the majority of the first night, which was comprised entirely of acoustic acts and poets, making for a very intimate atmosphere. I’m so incredibly grateful to be able to attend an event such as this and I’m so thankful for Matt and Richard for putting it together, but even moreso to all of the individuals and bands who attended and made it such a memorable and fun time. Everyone was very respectful of one another and I made friends with a lot of really cool people. If you weren’t able to attend, I feel bad for you. I was able to record quite a bit of the weekend on video and I’ve uploaded some of my favorite performances for your viewing pleasure.

This past weekend I attended Pitchfork Music Festival for the first time. The ride from Cleveland was long and exhausting. While in Indiana we hit a massive traffic jam, which was caused by a truck going off the road.  As we were nearing our destination, we hit the first hint of rush hour, but luckily were able to get to our destination around 5. After getting some Subway,  my friend Terry and I headed out to Union Park via the Blue Line. We met two couples from the D.C. area on the train and chatted with them as we waited for our stop. It became evermore apparent that were going to be getting off at the wrong stop as we traveled above projects and abandoned warehouses. And so, we exited the train at the last stop. As we looked around the disheveled and run down neighborhood with liquor and check cashing stores scattered here and there, I suddenly knew exactly where we were-the south-side of Chicago.

So there we were, six well dressed out of town white kids trying to find an alternative music festival in one of the most dangerous areas of Chicago.  Needless to say, we stuck out like a sore thumb. By the good graces of God, and angel appeared before us in the form of a slightly over-weight fifty-something who almost immediately directed us towards a bus that would take us to the festival grounds. I was nervous that we would be caught in the rain, but all we had to deal with was a cool breeze. The Jesus Lizard was well into their set by the time we arrived so I decided to walk around a bit and I checked out the record store area that Pitchfork had set up, which was more like a flea market than anything else. Most of the better-known indie labels had booths set up with loads of records priced incredibly cheap (I bought Kid A and Amnesiac on vinyl for $15 each). Some friends and I watched Built To Spill from the right side of the A stage, but their performance was a bit unenthusiastic. After watching them for close to 40 minutes our friend Kate became dizzy and nearly passed out. We decided to call it a night and, after getting directions from Mike, boarded the next train back. Luckily for Terry and I, we caught the last Blue Line train for the weekend. For the next two days, we would be using a cab.

The next morning, we awoke early and eager for the festival to really start. The previous night had been filled with middle-aged musicians playing for middle-aged fans, but the next two days were filled with fresh new acts that we had been eager to see after first reading about them on Pitchfork. Terry and I stopped at Dos Amigos for some Tortas before picking up a gallon of water for the day. After collecting our other friends, we hopped in a taxi and made out way to Union Park. If there was ever a time that I felt like a carbon copy, it was at this place. Now, I don’t really like to call or classify myself as a hipster, but I did blend into that crowd pretty well, something that I am both proud and ashamed of.  In any event, we were al front and center for Cymbals Eat Guitars, who played most of their debut album. The funny thing about their band is that the keyboardist looks just like our friend Ben and the bassist looks just like Jeff.  At the end of their set the bassist threw shirts into the crowd. Here’s a video of them kicking off their set with the first song from their debut album, Why There Are Mountains.

After seeing Cymbals Eat Guitars we wandered around a bit before seeing Fucked up at the A stage. Their sound was the first of the weekend that I felt was sub-par, and certainly not the last. However, they had a great stage presence and some die-hard fans who were getting really into it. It didn’t take very much effort to get close to the front, but after having my glasses almost knocked off of my face enough I got out of the crowd and made my way towards the C stage to see The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart.

This past spring, I had the opportunity to see The Pains of Being Pure At Heart at The Beachland Tavern, but I had a Philosophy term paper due the next day so I decided to stay in and revise it. Since then, I have been dying to see the band and they certainly didn’t disappoint. The murky gray sky started sprinkling refreshing drops onto our sweaty heads just before the band was about to begin. I remember thinking that it would really be awesome to have it pour all over us during their set. I was hoping for such a thing all weekend because I thought that it would make the concert more memorable, but all throughout the fest, there was little to no rain. The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart were great though and even played a new song about ‘being really high’, which can be viewed below.  The only complaint I have of them is that their guitars didn’t seem quite loud enough.

Following The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart, I went back over to the A stage to see another act I had been waiting a long time to see, Final Fantasy. Owen Pallet was quite obviously very nervous when he took to the stage. He noted that he rarely plays for that amount of people outside of Canada, but he was welcomed with open arms in the windy city. By looping his violin and playing his own keys, he was the only real solo act of the weekend.

Since all of my friends were over at the B stage seeing Ponytail, whom I had seen 2 days previous, I left Owen’s set about 15 minutes early to meet up with them. We stood in the center of the A stage crowd and kicked it for a bit before Doom’s set as people all around us started sparking up joints. Doom took far too long to get on stage, but once he started rapping (lip-syncing) thousands of (white) hands flew into the air. Halfway through their set his partner asked us to love one another, which sounds cliché and tired, but it was actually quite charismatic and inspiring. I stood to the side of the C stage for Beirut who opened with Nantes, followed by Mimizan, which appeared on the Dark Was The Night compilation. However, as good of a decision sticking around for Beirut may have been, I had bigger plans.

Matt & Kim & Bruce

I made my way back to the B stage to see a band that has eluded me for years now. Matt & Kim are that one band that always comes to town when I have something going on. The first chance I had to see them was when I was still in high school and I simply didn’t have the money to see them. The second time I missed them was when I was in Chicago for Lollapalooza. The third time I missed them was when they played with No Age in November and I had a test the next day. I was especially upset about the last one because I had already bought a ticket, so I wasn’t going to let them elude me once again. Certainly, the couple played famously.  Kim’s gleeful smile never left her face during the entire performance and Matt seemed just as happy to be there as his head shook through hooks and chords on his Yamaha keyboard. With little effort I was able to get close to the front since everyone was so energetically dancing. At one point everyone was pogo-ing in unison so that whether you wanted to or not you were being lifted from the ground. When I got to the very front of the stage the performance seemed a bit strange. Everyone behind me was dancing furiously and the two on stage were playing with intense force and vigor, but the barricade and elevated stage made it seem somewhat artificial. I know that it was just because of my line of sight, but it was as if they were playing just for me.

Black Lips performed immediately after Matt and Kim at the B stage. While I did want a chance to see The National, whom I hear performed excellently; the last Black Lips show I attended made me never want to miss a performance of theirs. The band opened with M.I.A. and Ian Saint Pé smashed his guitar on stage. To a great deal of applause he told us that ‘we flew in today and we’re partying tonight!’. He then asked who wanted a pick-up and threw it into the crowd. The band rolled through songs from various albums from the bands career. After about 7 songs, my chest was starting to seriously hurt from all of the fans pushing me against the barricade and I took myself out of the crowd and over the barricade. From afar I saw the guitarists making out then setting a fire-extinguisher on the crowd to end their show.

We went back to Indigo Plateau, the home of my good friends and the place where I was staying to see His Hideous Heart play their first show in the past 6 months. The single mic was cranked through a tiny amp, which gave it a very fuzzy effect. Luckily, they had a bit of time to practice so you couldn’t tell that they were rusty during the entire 35 minute set. Following the show, we proceeded to get pretty fucked up, which meant that making it to The Mae Shi was a bit unlikely-something I am still pretty bummed about-but fun is fun and we had a lot of it that day.

We didn’t make it out to Pitchfork the next day until close to 3 pm, just in time to see Women perform. I started laughing uncontrollably when I noticed that the bassist had taped a photo of Oprah to his bass. They played incredibly well and I had the chance to talk to a fellow blogger who had a press pass. I told him how I was supposed to have one myself, but the website I was writing for got pissed off when I bailed on a review. Apparently, the press area isn’t too fancy, but I was still pretty jealous of him. I smoked a bit with him and passed it around before heading over to the A stage to see The Thermals.

I had never seen The Thermals before Saturday afternoon. They swung through Cleveland a few months ago, but I had already bought my ticket to P4k and didn’t see much of a point in seeing them twice. In fact, they were quite forgettable. When they were on, they were very good, but too often it felt very forced. Their crowd was filled with unenthusiastic fans with a few die-hard kids trying to half mosh. It was really quite amusing.

Luv you, bro.

After I had enough of their set I made my way back over to the B stage to check out Dj Rapture who cut some fresh beats in the mid afternoon. I was really just waiting to see the next band perform though. Japandroids came on stage with a great deal of enthusiasm about playing their first show in Chicago. I’m very sad to say that we left their set 15 minutes early in order to get a good spot for M83, but it was definitely worth it. I had received a text from my friend the night before saying that they weren’t sure he was going to attend after seeing him get in a tussle with security guards in Columbus. Their drummer was hidden behind a glass wall and the female keyboard player had make up covering her eyes from ear to ear. M83 busted out songs from his entire career and the sound was astounding. I think it was the first time I was not only content with the sound quality, but impressed even.

We had a real choice to make concerning what to do next. We could either walk over to the C stage and see Grizzly Bear play from a distance then be far back for The Flaming Lips or we could stay right where we were and enjoy The Flaming Lips from a close distance. It was a difficult choice to make, but the longer we deliberated upon it, the less wise it seemed to make our way over there. Nearly every person at Pitchfork was seeing Grizzly Bear. We were able to hear them well enough as we sat in the crowded field, but since the sound tent was in direct line with their stage, we were only able to watch them on the large screens to the side of The Flaming Lips’ stage.

The Flaming Lips set left me feeling quite strange. Let’s start with the visuals. A psychedelic colored woman danced on an incredibly bright semi-circle screen. Eventually she exposed her vagina, which strobed with light and enlarged to take up the entire screen. Suddenly, Wayne Coyne and company opened a secret door in the center of the vagina and walked out as if being birthed by  immaculate light in front of thousands screaming fans. Confetti and large beach balls were thrown into the crowd in one of the most trippy stage spectacles of all time. The band announced that they were going to be playing songs that were selected by us, the festival-goers as a part of the write the set list promotion that Pitchfork set up.  Unfortunately, the band picked and chose which songs they wanted to play, which included many obscure songs that their ‘real fans’ knew. Of course, they did play the hits everyone wanted them to play, but their set ended incredibly early due to an agreement that  Pitchfork had with the law enforcement.  Upon revealing this to the crowd everyone booed. We had hoped for a set that lasted at least 2 hours, but we were shafted with a setlist that was tame as any.

I had been to my first Pitchfork Music Festival and it certainly wont be the last. Even with the somewhat poor sound quality and disappointments that scattered throughout the festival, it was well worth my money and time. For less than $100 I saw dozens of bands that I love perform in an intimate setting. There was no point in the weekend that I had any problem getting closer to the stage and the distance between stages was an easy walk. In short, it was the best festival that I have attended and I will likely attend every year henceforth.

- James

At 9:08, The Grog Shop was empty. I wasn’t surprised in the slightest, but I did expect there to be a few more people hanging out earlier on. I was attending the show alone because I had already bought my ticket a week prior to the show and all of my friends had prior engagements or just didn’t feel like spending the cash. I stopped over at the merch table to see if Black Moth Super Rainbow had the new album on vinyl, but the girl in the band (I’m unsure of her moniker) told me that it wouldn’t be pressed until the fall. I did happen upon something that I would buy later on in the night though. The band’s name is The Lava Children and a mention of BMSR in the liners, the fact that BMSR was selling it for only $10, and the purple and green vinyl made it too good a deal to pass up. I told the girl in BMSR that I was surprised that they don’t come to Cleveland more often since they only loie 2.5 miles away in Pittsburgh. She told me that it was actually their first time ever playing in Cleveland, so it was a first for both of us. I sat alone in the front of the stage as I eagerly waited for the show to start. A girl in front of me yelled that she ‘got gum on [her] party pants!’ I suggested she find the nearest person with minty fresh breath and punch them.

Having had very little sleep over the past week, I had bought a large coffee before the show to keep my energy uyp, but I was crashing before it was even starting so I decided to get some fresh air outside to clear my head. I happened upon my friend Haley, who I hadn’t seen or heard from in about six months and we caught up as Jon walked outside to give me the aspirin I had asked him for. By the time I got back inside about 15 minutes later, the place was packed and I quickly got my spot back at the front of the stage. There were two girls sitting near me who were obnoxiously tripping on ecstasy who just ‘wanted to feel the music’. Their level-headed guy friend, who seemed pretty cool, was unsuccessfully trying to calm them down. The one kept on complaining that ‘X doesn’t work on some people. AND I AM ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE!’. Her friend assured her that it wasn’t the worst thing in the world that she couldn’t get roll properly, but I made sure to voice my strong opposition to his statement. Instrumental trip-hop played over the PA for far too long.

It was now 10:30 and the first act was just setting up. It was at this point that the kid in the center of the crowd yelled that he was on acid and the girls contemplated going camping on mushrooms. Being a kind person, I helped them coin a phrase to describe such an activity and came up with Shroomping. They all repeated it about 6 times. It seems I was the one of the only people at this show who wasn’t under the influence of hallucinogens. The first act never addressed the crowd or even announced his name. He simply came on, played some drone guitar for about fifteen minutes, then messed around with a synth to make some space noises that his drowned out vocals struggled to explore. I asked him his name and he told me that it was Sam Goldberg and that he was from Cleveland, then smiled and asked me the same. Apparently, he works downstairs from The Grog Shop at B-Side and was headed there as soon as he packed up his equipment. He looked at the tripping girls and said “thanks for being so respectful during my set” in an obviously sarcastic manner, but the girls had a bit of trouble understanding this. They even asked their level headed friend if he was being sarcastic and, as he said ‘yeah, he was’, I snickered to myself as I jotted down some notes. Once the girls had finally realized what had just happened they decided “fuck him, he can’t even play an instrument.” One asked if the other cared and she replied, ‘of course not’. They then proceeded to repeatedly hi-five one another in a veritable display of how awesome they truly were.

The second act, Red Falcon Project came on stage decked out in 80’s gear, ties tied around their foreheads, and what I can only pray were fake mullets. A dancable beat filled the room with notes played on a synth that sounded like a lazer beam played to make way for low pitch-shifted vox that they sampled on their MacBook Pro. Slowly, but surely, the crowd started to loosen up. To accompany their music was a film montage of some of the creepiest stuff I have ever seen in my life. One moment, you were seeing a loop of someone being shot in the face and the next it was tripped out children’s television. The great contrast from lame stuff you would never watch to gory and disturbing images, from what had to have been dugg out of hundreds of lo-rate sci-fi movies, made for one of the creepiest sets I have ever been a part of. Local heroes, Big Chuck & Little Jon, made an appearance and everyone cheered. In the sketch, Little John is trying to hit a gong with a mallet and ends up hitting Big Chuck in the testicles who falls into the gong. OMG, THAT’S FUNNY! One of the last themes in the montage was dedicated to former Minnesota Governor, Jesse Ventura a.k.a. Jesse The Body Ventura. However, there were no quick clips of him supporting the legalization of prostitution, just him kickin’ ass and takin’ names in the ring.

When you go to as many shows as I have lately, it’s a good idea to bring ear plugs. They served a double purpose at this show though because I was able to ignore all of the obnoxious durggies surrounding me. A kid who was standing next to me asked me why I was writing in a notepad and I told him that I have a music blog and I was planning on writing something for the show. He asked “Oh, like you mean on myspace?”. His friend had pointed out that he had probably just insulted me and I laughed pretty hard. BMSR’s opening montage was as bizarre as the one that had preceded it. Photos of Juggalo’s filled the screen and then it cut to a fake vlogger who complained about how he ’saw MGMT and was subjected to the shittiest band ever that only douche-bags would like.’ Suddenly, one of my heroes appeared on the screen. Eric Wareheim appeared to comfort us. To tell us that we’re not “douche bags, not even d-bags”. He did point out that perhaps Black Moth Super Rainbow should shorten their name. He suggested ‘Black Rainbow because they’re so dark, like The Cure’. They could even do collaborations like ‘Black Rainbow feat. Super Moth’. He then told us to ‘put our hands together and enjoy the shoooooooooooooooooow!’

During their first song, people already started partaking in marijuana, which is admittedly dumb no matter what venue you’re at, but especially in Ohio since smoking of any kind is against the law. That didn’t seem to bother the people around me who smoked cigarettes without a care. Speaking of Tobacco, he was sitting on the floor on the other side of the stage throughout the show, so I didn’t really get a great look at him, but the sound was fine and the video playing in the background was more than enough visuals for me. A group of men and women who were wearing tu-tu’s and strange masks made out of water jugs with flashing lights came onto stage and then danced through the crowd. The kid in the center kept on grabbing my neck and screaming in my ear throughout the show, which was really starting to get on my nerves, but he was having a good time and seemed to be good natured so i tried to ignore it as best I could. Jon eventually found the kid smoking a cigarette and pulled him out of the crowd only to have him return moments later to say that he let him go. For some reason, he didn’t take his warning seriously and decided to light up another cigarette before one of his friends called him a dumbass and told him to put it out. The band was incredibly well synchronized and didn’t miss a beat, yet they still managed to get a good deal of jamming going on. I really wanted them to play Gold Splatter, my favorite song on the new album, and while they did play many new songs, that was not one of them. When it was time for the band to take their encore break, they didn’t. They congregated in one corner of the stage for about 20 seconds and then came back to finish it off with their hits.

After the show was over, I went back to the merch table and waited in line to buy the vinyl i had mentioned earlier. The kid in front of me bought every single cd they had on sale and they threw in a t-shirt for free, but damn, $80 is a lot of money to drop on merch. After buying the vinyl, I left and walked next door to grab a beer with some friends before my girlfriend came to pick me up and I realized that I didn’t have my wallet. I sprinted back inside The Grog and when I got to the merch table and the girl from BMSR had my wallet in her hand, she looked just as relieved as I was. All of them seemed to be really nice and approachable people, which greatly surprised me due to their image of being enigmatic.

- James

I had been looking forward to seeing Dan Deacon at The Cleveland Museum of Art since it was first announced on Pitchfork a few weeks ago. The concert was to commemorate the opening of the new east wing of the museum, which has been under construction for four years. Now, as you may have guessed, the event was packed with rich philanthropists. In fact, if you wanted to go to the event earlier on in the night, you had to pay over $100! Luckily, showing up at 10 to catch Dan Deacon only cost $15. Because of this, there was an interesting mix of hipsters and finely dressed individuals giving disapproving looks. I especially felt unwelcome because I was wearing a plain white t-shirt and a pair of tight shorts.  I was a bit disappointed that Dan was playing a solo set because I was hoping to catch his ensemble, but seeing him play on the ground outside was a welcomed  alternative.  Dan opened his set by having us all raise our arms and repeat after him as he pleaded to the heavens for the rain to go away. As the initial bleeps filled our ears, Dan told us to ‘look to the east’ and this is what we saw:

That’s right, The Cleveland Museum of Art set up fireworks for Dan Deacon. Now, I’m sure that many people have memorable Dan Deacon stories, but how many can say that they saw him with fireworks? As soon as Dan started playing, I busted out into frantic dancing as the jubilant tones echoed through my ears. Everyone around me was going nuts and I was no exception. I was pretty much screaming in the guy’s ear. Now, despite Dan’s heartfelt plea to the God of rain, it started to drizzle a bit and somehow a tarp found it’s way over our heads.

lolwut

We danced under the tarp for a bit before Dan discarded it since it stopped raining. He then tried to do one of his famous crowd participation activities for ‘Of The Mountains’ in which on person sat at the center of a gaping circle in the crowd and slowly moved her arms from side to side. The first person to attempt this was the girl in the photo above, but she failed at it so another girl tried to get it going to no avail. After what was less than a minute, everyone just crowded around Dan again and danced away. I felt bad that Clevelanders couldn’t follow such simple directions, but it’s probably just because everyone was so incredibly excited to see him. The next activity was the sassy dance contest. Someone wearing a tweety bird mask danced with the girl who failed to do the first group participation to ‘Snake Mistakes’. This time, everyone managed to keep the circle formation, but only 6 people participated, which was sort of lame because when I saw him at The Grog Shop in January of 2008 we got a pretty fluid rotation of people in. Next, Dan played ‘Baltihorse’ and asked us to form our hands in a bridge, then have someone run through and start another link in the chain. I shot a short video of my running through for your enjoyment. Someone shouted my name halfway through, but I have no idea who it was. At the end, some jokers tried to turn it into red rover, but my catlike reflexes allowed me to limbo underneath quickly.

Dan ended his set with Wham City and everyone was going insane. I can honestly say that he puts on a better live show than every other band I have ever seen, with the exception of Radiohead. If you ever get a chance to see this man play live, there is absolutely no excuse for missing it. In fact, I’m seeing him with Deerhunter and No Age three times within the course of a week in August. After he was finished dismantling his pedal boards and equipment, I walked up to him and told him such. He gave me a big hug and informed me that he is playing a secret show Sunday night of Lollapalooza at Logan Square Auditorium.

After Dan’s set, I was a bit disoriented and lost track of my friends. I wandered around the art museum trying to find them and stumbled upon the east wing that had just opened. As I walked around the exhibits from varying time periods and styles, I saw one of the most iconic pieces of art of the past 50 years.

Dj Rekha played some boring middle eastern dance music for far too long and her stage presence was as lackluster as her musical ability. She didn’t even really do anything. She basically just picked  songs from a playlist, dropped the melody, let the drums chill for a minute, added an incredibly similar sitar melody, then added a new drum beat. Man, that sure screams talent to me. All of the hammered aging yuppies seemed to enjoy it though, so I suppose she served some sort of purpose. My friend Terry later commented that she was basically the tolken ethnic artist that was necessary at such an event. At the end of her set she felt the need to inform us that she ‘was on shitter and myspace.’ She even spelled out her name for us to make sure that none of us misspelled it when we didn’t google her. Another great quote from her was that she’s “not an Indian who is good at spelling bee’s or math” It turns out she’s also not an Indian who is good at being a DJ.

The last band we saw was the awesome local band Emeralds who play some amazing electronic drone music. The word soundscapes gets thrown around a lot nowadays by blogs to describe bands that play songs that build into a dense amorphous collage, and I myself and guilty of such, but there truly is no band I have seen or heard that the term so accurately describes. I saw them for the first time with Wolf Eyes a few months ago with Max and they totally killed it then. This time was no different as the three men tweaked knobs to make space noises as guitarist Mark McGuire created delay patterns filled with reverb and feedback. About ten minutes into their set, some douchbags ran across the stage flailing their arms in an attempt to be funny, but everyone just scoffed at their immaturity and disrespect for an art form at an art museum. Emeralds seemed to pay them no mention though and continued to play with as much deep concentration as the people they were playing for who closed their eyes and let the music paint a picture in their mind.

Near the end of Emerald’s set, I saw Dan Deacon hanging out in the tent on the side of the stage. I walked over to him and called out his name making the shape of a record with my hands and asking if he had any vinyl because I wanted to pick up Bromst. He replied “I don’t have any merch on me, sorry man. Want some chips?” I declined on his chips, but man, what an awesome guy.

- James

Well, the middle of June has come and gone once again, with my 5^th trip down to the farm in Manchester, Tennessee  for the Bonnaroo Music & Arts Festival. As usual, I had a great time, saw plenty of great music, spent a lot of my money and got lost trying to find our camp. Anyhow, here is what I saw from Thursday evening to Sunday night, with pictures! Enjoy!

Thursday, June 11

After driving down to Nashville on Wednesday, my friends and I arrived in Manchester at about 11:30 AM. In past years, we have waited no more than an hour and a half, but this year had a mammoth wait in store for us: 7 hours and 30 minutes. Yes, we didn’t arrive at our campsite until 7PM, giving us just enough time to set up camp, run in to Centeroo (the area with the stages) and  catch the end of what I’m assuming was a phenomenal Portugal. The Man set. We arrived just in time to see the final three songs, all of which were phenomenal. I’m not a huge fan of these guys, but after seeing part of their set, I can see how people love them so much. Were I there longer, it could have been one of my favorite shows of the weekend.

After PTM ended, the gang headed over to watch Chairlift, who I figured my friends would enjoy. I’ve had their album for a while, but only listened to a few unimpressive songs. I was going to see them live with YACHT a few months back, but it never worked out, leaving this to be my first time hearing the group.  What I was expecting to sound similar to YACHT came out sounding like M83 or early 4AD favoring big hip-hop booty bass. Although it was nice for a few minutes, I ended up being very bored by the time we all decided to head out.

We eventually made our way over to The Other Tent, which was where I had hoped to spend my night, with sets from Janelle Monaé and Murs. We arrived too late for those 2, but we were able to catch People Under the Stairs. Now, I only know a handful of PUTS songs, but the ones I know I love, so I was excited to see these guys. Both MC’s had fantastic stage presence and it was one of the few quality hip-hop shows I’ve seen with just a DJ rather than a live backing band. Overall, this was a solid show and I definitely hope to see them again in the future.

To close out the night, we made our way over to catch Passion Pit. I had seen them back in January down in Columbus and it was a little underwhelming. Well, this show followed in that trend. In the live setting, they definitely lose a little bit of their magic and our group found ourselves conversing by the end, rather than paying attention to the lackluster tunes. Not the best way to close the night.

Friday ,June 12

Today was the day I was most excited for, with sets from Animal Collective, David Byrne, the Dirty Projectors, Femi Kuti and many more. After hanging out around our campsite all morning, a few of us finally made our way in to Centeroo in time to catch the Dirty Projectors. For some reason, I wasn’t expecting too much from Dave Longstreth and Co. but boy, was I wrong! They opened with the beautiful but not-too-exciting-live track “Two Doves” and I was getting worried, but then they turned on their wizard switches and rocked us all. The entire set I was reminded of shouts during The Octopus Project’s Lollapalooza set: “You’re a fucking wizard!” Dave Longstreth was pulling off all kinds of ridiculous sounds with his guitar that would make those mathcore kids blush. Plus, the girls in the band really are as gorgeous as everyone says, and their harmonies sounded perfect. Although I wasn’t blown away, this was a very enjoyable, fulfilling set which was definitely a highlight of the weekend. Also, it was pretty cool when afterwards, as I’m leaving, I ran into my friend Bucky, who I was hoping to meet up with at some point over the weekend. It was definitely a cool surprise.

Because Bonnaroo thought it would be funny to schedule Vieux Farka Touré overlapping with both The Dirty Projectors and Animal Collective, I had to skip that set since I had to get a good spot for my 2^nd favorite band, behind Radiohead. Anyways, about Animal Collective. My opinion about the show is going to sound incredibly contradictory, but here goes: I loved it, but it was the biggest disappointment of the weekend. Yes, I thought they played a great set, but I was expecting so much more. It seemed as if there was no substance behind the tunes, that the songs were just being played through crappy speakers. There was no bass, the set was very quiet and they sounded a little bit uninspired. Plus, they aren’t well-suited for a daytime set, especially with the blazing sun at its strongest. That being said, I still loved the set, which consisted mostly of MPP tunes, though they did through in “Comfy In Nautica” and one of my favorites, “Slippi” from Here Comes The Indian. Had this set taken place late-night or at least at a time when we could enjoy their light show, I’m sure this would have been one of my favorites.

After being annihilated by the sun during AnCo, I really just wanted to sit down and eat, so I headed back to the tent, where the guys were making hot dogs. Sadly, this flush of energy meant missing Béla Fleck & Toumani Diabate as well as Santigold and Grizzly Bear. After regaining some energy, I made it back to the stages to catch the final few songs of Al Green while waiting in line for water. Al Green was one of those acts that I had to see, so it was even better when, even in his old age, still performed with a fiery passion of a revved up preacher. Much like Portugal. The Man, the few songs I saw of Al Green were incredible, I just wish I could have seen more. Tunde was dancing around while singing with more heart than many of the weekend’s performers and they sounded tight, yet they also seemed to extend the songs a bit to fit the festival’s jam band roots. To make things better, they ended with two songs from their early work, “Young Liars” and “Satellite”, two of my favorite songs of theirs. Overall, I was very pleased with their set, though there were definitely better shows over the weekend.

We then walked back over to the What Stage to catch the evening’s headliners, the Beastie Boys, a band who I had grown up loving, so naturally I was excited to see them. I left about halfway through to go see David Byrne, but at least I was able to hear my favorite song “Paul Revere”. Not only did they come out and get the whole crowd moving, they definitely woke people up with their palpable energy. To make things even better, they brought out fellow New Yorker Nas for a few songs, showing some love to their favorite city. To make things even better once again, they played a few songs reminiscent of their days as a hardcore punk group. This was definitely one of my favorite shows of the weekend.

There are very few people I would leave a show of that quality to go see. David Byrne is one of them. The Talking Heads are one of my favorite bands, just behind Animal Collective and Radiohead. Unlike AnCo, my only disappointment with this show was the he performed “I Zimbra”, one of my favorite Heads songs, before I arrived. But upon my arrival, I was fortunate enough to hear him play several tracks from my favorite Talking Heads album, Remain In Light, including my favorite “Born Under Punches”. Sure, these songs lacked the art-funk jerkiness of their originals, but the smoother, aged versions were complete knockouts. Music aside, the stage show was phenomenal, with gospel backup singers and a group of 3 dancers, choreographed perfectly for the music. I never wanted this set to end, but when it did, I knew that it was one of my favorites of the weekend.

After David Byrne ended at 10:45, I honestly don’t remember at all what I did for next hour and 15 minutes until Femi Kuti started. I think I got some food and fell asleep under a tree? Anyways, I woke up and headed over to The Other Tent to catch Femi Kuti, son of afrobeat legend and one of my favorite musicians, Fela Kuti. I danced to Femi’s afrobeat for about 30 minutes or so, having an awesome time, before falling asleep/passing out under a different tree. When I woke up, I was too exhausted to do anything, so I wandered back to the campsite, getting lost and missing Public Enemy and Girl Talk. At least I ended my night with a fun, energetic set.

Saturday, June 13

Early in the day today, there wasn’t anything I was really too excited to see, so we just kinda hung around our campsite with our neighbors, who were really awesome guys. I finally made it to Centeroo in time to catch the latter half of Robyn Hitchcock & The Venus 3. I’ve been interested in his music for a while, but hadn’t really listened much. What I had heard seemed to be the bridge between The Beatles and Guided By Voices, so I thought it was pretty neat. When I arrived, I was greeted with some pleasant psychedelic Beatles-esque pop, which sounded perfect for the warm, sunny afternoon. It was an enjoyable set, nothing to write home about, but definitely something to keep my checking him out.

With time to spare before I had to decide between Rodrigo y Gabriella and Bon Iver, I realized I could go see another musical legend over on the Which Stage: Booker T. Instead of playing with the MGs, his usual backing band, he was playing with southern rockers Drive-By Truckers, a band who I don’t really like, but at least they put on a good live show.  Together, these folks put on a quality show, one that I would consider seeing if they came to town. Right as I was leaving, they broke into “Green Onions”, Booker T’s landmark tune, ending my time at the show perfectly.

After seeing some crazy organ playing, I witnessed some mindblowing guitar playing over at Rodrigo y Gabriella. These two Mexicans living in Ireland make incredible flamenco music with just the two guitars. Gabriella plays what you could call “rhythm guitar”, though she also utilizes it is a percussion tool as well while Rodrigo does the “shredding”. Sure, they may not masturbate their guitars like they are a prostitute trying to make her rent (via metalcore bands) but their tasteful shredding will blow your mind. I was very sad to find that their crowd was so small that I was able to walk all the way up to the front, with a clear vision of the duo. While I knew the music would be great, I was unsure about their stage presence. They ended up having great stage presence, moving around the stage and getting the crowd into the music. All of this together resulted in another one of the weekend’s finest shows.

Determined to see both acts, I left Rod y Gab a little early and ran back to see Bon Iver. While there,  I heard at least 5 different pronounciations of his name, which had me a little lost going into the show. Anyway, it was a little boring, hard to see and very crowded, so I ended up just sitting on the lawn, observing what I believe was the largest gathering of good looking girls of the weekend. Now, I know I’ve sounded a little negative toward Bon Iver, but in his favor, he was much better and energetic live than I would have ever imagined, it just wasn’t holding my attention in the heat of the day. And I wasn’t excited enough to force my way into the crowd to get a quality spot.

After wandering around for a while, I met up with friends and ventured back to This Tent to see Of Montreal. Much like Bon Iver, it was way too crowded and I wasn’t super excited to see them since I kinda burned out on them a while back. They started out playing a few songs I didn’t really recognize and didn’t really care about. Where we were, we could not really see the stage, but upon catching a glimpse, I noticed that there seemed to be monsters dancing on stage with trippy visuals projected on the screen behind.  The funk bass really sounded great, but other than that, I wasn’t too impressed nor interested, so we left. Later on in the weekend, I heard that it was a phenomenal show, so maybe I just left early or was in a bad spot.

When I finally made my way over to Wilco, one of the few bands of the day I was really excited for, I was blown away for the first time all festival. Last time Wilco played Bonnaroo, I almost didn’t go see them, thinking they would be boring, but they fucking rocked. This time was no exception, Jeff Tweedy & Co. really kicked major ass up there, playing songs spanning their entire catalogue, jamming on most of them and really rocking out on nearly every one. Relatively recent addition Nels Cline definitely has proven to a key asset to their live show, as he seemed to lead most of “rocking out”. When the time came to head out halfway through their 2 hour set, I decided to stay for another 45 minutes before heading over to Elvis Costello.

Elvis Costello is one of the few people I would leave such a good Wilco show for, but I’d say it was worth it. I felt like I was taking a bit of a risk, praying that he wouldn’t play any of the folk stuff he was doing for a while. Fortunately, I arrived at the end of an acoustic duet with Rilo Kiley’s Jenny Lewis, which actually wasn’t bad. After this, Costello declared that it was time for some rock n’ roll and busted out some power pop jams that make me love his tunes so much. Ending with (I think it was the last song?) “(What’s So Funny ‘Bout) Peace, Love and Understanding?” Costello showed a ton of energy, despite his age, and it proved why I love Elvis Costello so much.

Feeling a little bad about skipping the incredibly fun-in-a-live-setting Decemberists, I ventured over to the Which Stage to catch everyone’s least favorite band: The Mars Volta. Seriously, I don’t understand why everyone shits on them so much? Sure, the new album sucks majorly, but other than that, I thought all of their albums have been good. And while I have never heard more hatred for a live show than for The Mars Volta’s, I’ve found them to be a great live act, maybe it has something to do with my love of psychedelic noise freakouts. I showed up as they were finishing a song from the new album, which was not too good, but at least they made a good performance out of a bad song. Then, singer Cedric Bixler-Zavala said something along the lines of “We are going to play some old songs, since everyone hates our new stuff and says we peaked after our first two albums” and thus, TMV launched into some older favorites, ending with my favorite Frances The Mute track “Cygnus…Vismund Cygnus”. With an explosive stage presence and an interesting light show, this was a highlight of the weekend.

After heading back to the tent and relaxing for a while, it was finally time for The Boss. I was expecting one of two paths with Bruce: it would either be fucking epic or fucking awful. Actually, it was alright, but not what I expected. We arrived an hour late, around 10:30 or so and watched for about an hour, leaving with a whole hour left in his set, but not too early to miss the one Bruce song I really love: “Born To Run”. It was a little embarrassing singing along, since I’m more familiar with the Paul Baribeau cover, so my cadence was thrown off. During the time watching, I noticed a few other songs I recognized from the Baribeau covers, but I was too busy laying down, staring at the stars, feeling good. I’m glad I went, but it wasn’t something I would write home about. I felt a little bit un-American the next morning when I responded to my dad’s text of “Word on the street is that Bruce was incredible” with “Ehh, it was good, not great. I wasn’t too impressed”

For reasons I won’t explain here, everything was just “Feels good man”, so we headed over to the Xbox Arcade, where some DJ was blasting some bass-heavy dance music which felt amazing as I sat on a comfy couch. I had a great time dancing in my seat and watching the obviously-inebriated hippies and hipsters dance, but it was time to move on. We then headed over to the Silent Disco, which is a dance music tent where everyone wears headphones, leaving spectators to only see people dancing without hearing the music. The Hood Internet were the DJs, so we tried to get in line, but it would have been hours before getting in, so we just watched. Finally, we made our way over to That Tent to see Yeasayer, which was absolutely incredible. Seeing them at Lollapalooza was a bit disappointing, but damn, have they upped their live show! With an intense light show, beautiful stage setup and energetic tribal drumming, Yeasayer was 45 minutes of pure, “Feels Good Man” bliss, where they added an electronic/dance sound to their songs, which definitely made their songs much more suitable for a late night live show. When they ended, I was devastated that it had to end so quickly. If only they could have played for a few more hours…

Off in the distance, the Nine Inch Nails light show already had me hooked. Unable to see the lights, all I could see was what looked like constant lightning flashes against the stormy clouds. We headed over there to hear a few slower songs that I didn’t recognize, which sounded great, but I was too distracted by how phenomenal the light show was. I don’t know how to describe it, but whatever Trent Reznor had going on topped Radiohead’s lights. Basically, the time we spent there was just a constant ocular orgasm. I was majorly disappointed when my friends insisted that we go see MGMT, since I knew they would suck, but I went anyways, not wanting to be alone/having Bucky and his friend James have to “babysit” me.

MGMT was, once again, so fucking terrible that I will speak no more of their immense failure in a live setting.

Sunday, June 14

In recent years, Bonnaroo has been host to a handful of metal bands each year, though I’ve never made it around to catch one of their sets. This year, there were 2 metal bands playing who I really wanted to see: Dillinger Escape Plan and High on Fire. Dillinger Escape Plan was the first to play and they definitely jump-started my day with the most explosive, energetic set of the weekend. Bodies were flailed, amps were climbed, heads were banging and rock fists were in the air for DEP’s spastic clusterfuck of metal genres. I was ecstatic and sad when they ended with 2 of my favorite songs of theirs: “When Good Dogs Do Bad Things” and their cover of Aphex Twin’s “Come To Daddy”. I was happy because those songs are so badass, but disappointed because Mike Patton was not the one singing them. Although DEP’s singer did an adequate job filling the songs’ vocal duties, it just wasn’t the same without Mike Patton. Note: I didn’t have my camera for this one, so no pictures

After the show, I met up with some of my group and watched Citizen Cope from afar, laying on the grass and soaking up his mellow, blues-meets-reggae-meets-hip-hop tunes which were great for the warm summer afternoon. Upon leaving to watch Eryka Badu, I decided to make a pit-stop back at That Tent to see High on Fire. It wasn’t even because I’m a big fan, but rather simply because they spawned from the ashes of doom-metal legends (and one of my favorite metal groups) Sleep. More extreme than Sleep’s Black Sabbath riffing, High On Fire pretty much just melted the small, but devoted crowd’s collective face. They played exactly how I like some of my metal: loud, dirty and heavy as fuck. The band defined what it means to “rock” with their high energy shredding and earth-shattering drumming. My least favorite part of their music is the vocals, which were now hidden beneath the onslaught of guitar, bass and drums. When I finally made my way out, I could barely even hear and that definitely made the show worth it.

I had great expectations for Eryka Badu, who made last year’s best Parliament-Funkadelic album. Sadly, what I saw of her show was a huge letdown, with her playing more neo-soul than dirty funk. She did more sing-speaking than actually bringing the funk and I left after being bored for long enough.

Now comes the highlight of the weekend: Okkervil River. To be honest, I wasn’t even expecting to see them this weekend, partially because I forgot they were playing and partially because I figured they wouldn’t be very good, especially against Eryka Badu. After our neighbor informed us that his sister was in the band, he strongly recommended seeing the show, so I met up with my group, who had never heard Okkervil, and headed over and found a good spot. Immediately we were greeted by a high energy performance, with Will Sheff and the entire band putting their heart and soul into the music. They jumped around the stage, shouted until their lungs gave out, nearly broke their instruments playing so hard and Will Sheff’s already-phenomenal lyrics shone through with an intense passion. I had decided that it was already one of the best shows even before they played the songs I wanted to hear: “Our Life Is Not A Movie Or Maybe”, “Black” and “For Real”. As soon as they ended, I knew it would not be topped.

There are not many people who can follow a show of the quality of the previous one and Snoop Dogg is not one of them. Making our way back to the main stage, we sat through the mandatory “hip-hop delay” before he finally took the stage, starting out actually very enjoyable. After his two or three opening songs, the show pretty much died. He played a few of the songs people wanted to hear, especially “Gin and Juice” and “Bitches Aint Shit” as well as recent hits “Drop It Like It’s Hot” and “Sexual Seduction”, but in between and after all of these, there wasn’t really anything else for him to do except praise Tupac and perform fractions of songs. Although he had good energy and stage presence, they couldn’t save what ended up a rather boring set.

Leaving his set, we stopped by to see Band of Horses, who were just ending as we walked up. We were able to hear “Ode to the LRC” but that’s it. Good song, but not enough to really review. Anyway, here’s a picture:

After hanging around our campsite, I realized that I still had to see the band most people were most excited to see: Phish. Now, back in the day, I was a Phish-head and a Deadhead, and although those days are long gone, I still wanted to at least see Phish, mostly out of nostalgia and since it might be my only chance to see the musical legends. After some delays at a friend’s campsite, I missed it when they brought out Bruce Springsteen for a few songs, but when I made it in, I didn’t stay long. Although they were jamming very well, I was exhausted and their noodle-y jams just weren’t holding my attention. After about 45 minutes, I called it a night and said goodbye to Centeroo, ready for the next day’s 10 hour drive home.

Favorite Shows of the Weekend:

1. Okkervil River
2. Yeasayer
3. Wilco
4. David Byrne
5. TIE: Beastie Boys, Femi Kuti, High on Fire or The Mars Volta

-Max

I bought my ticket to see Animal collective in mid-February. I knew the show would sell out and it did. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a ride to the show since I totaled my car a few days later. I tried to get in touch with some kids on last.fm to sell my ticket, but no one came through and, just as I was about to give up hope, a girl set up a ride for me. We got to the venue around 7:15 or so and made our way to the stage. The last time I could smoke in a music venue, I was too young to buy my own packs. The novelty wore off fast though. The problem with a smoking venue is that when the place gets filled, you can’t help having smoke blown in your face. We stood around for quite some time before people came through the crowd handing out glow-in-the-dark face paint and cabaret masks. As the show neared, people began to close in on the stage and it definitely became much more clustered.

Liz Harris (aka Grouper) set up her pedals and chair before leaving the stage and for about 20 minutes. Upon her return, people started clapping and shouting. They continued talking well into their set. At first, I believed it to be due to the fact that they didn’t realize that the noise she was compounding with her pedals was a part of the music, but even when she began playing guitar and singing there were people 5 spots back yapping away. Eventually, I had enough of it and tapped the girl in front of me to tell her that “I really don’t mean to be an asshole, but I really want to see Grouper and it would be great if you and your friend shut the hell up.” They both looked at each other then once back at me before turning towards the stage for a 5 minute break from talking. Wannabe hipsters to my right were shouting quite loudly to the crowd around them asking what the name of the act was as she was performing 10 feet in front of them. One of the people I came with informed him that she goes by the name of Grouper and he replied “I don’t get why an act like Grouper would open for Animal Collective.” That pretty much summed up the crowd right there.

I know it can be lame when old fans have a superiority complex over fans who are new to a band, but I think it’s safe to say that the majority of the people near the front were familiar with a couple of tracks off of MPP that they heard on the internet, namely, My Girls and Brothersport. I don’t think that many people in the venue ‘got’ what Animal Collective is. A conceptual artist such as Grouper is the perfect fit for a band like Animal Collective, but these new fans had the depiction of Animal Collective to a ‘unique’ indie band with danceable beats. That’s not to say that Animal Collective can’t be that, but they are far more than that. It really just bothered me how incredibly rude the crowd was. Two giants to the left of the stage kept on going on about how it was ’suicide music’. Here’s the thing: it’s fine if you aren’t a fan of Grouper, it’s fine if you don’t understand or want to understand her music, and it’s even fine to offer criticism of her, but when she is performing for you and you’re that close to her, then keep your mouth shut. I’m sure she heard most of the things that the people around me were saying and even if she didn’t the overwhelming chatter that bounced off the high ceilings of the venue were more than enough to make her feel unwelcome. Despite the horrible nature of the crowd, I was able to appreciate her set with a great deal of admiration.

I was a bit hesitant about Animal Collective’s live set. I have seen both ends of the spectrum of live performances via youtube and a few bootlegs/soundboards, but I had faith that being there would be an incredibly different experience and tried my best to go in with an open mind. Much like their opener, every member of Animal Collective came out to sound check their equipment before leaving the stage for about a half hour. Projected onto a back-drop was the artwork for MPP and a large sphere was slowly lowered from the ceiling to float about 15 feet above the stage. The band finally came out and quickly worked their way into “Also Frightened”. During the song, when they yell in unison “but I”, EVERYTHING lit up bright with white light. White sheets covered different colored lights set up below the stands that their equipment was placed upon. Their live set up reminded me of what a childhood filmmaker would employ when trying to create a space odyssey in his parent’s farmhouse.

I know that I have probably already done enough bitching about the crowd, but here’s a Pro-Tip for those trying to get to the front of the stage: Get to the venue early. DON’T tell me that ‘you have a friend on the rail.’ How fucking stupid do you believe I am? Perhaps, with Detroit locals, you can get away with that shit, but if you can’t get close with the flow of the crowd, you don’t deserve to be at the front. The band continued on with Sung Tong’s opener, Leaf House, which was sung in unison by a good amount of people, making it exactly what I always wanted it to sound like. There’s something about having so many people’s voices compounded that makes it more endearing than any one individual. My Girls was by far the most active song for the crowd and I’m surprised that they played it so early. It’s as if they prematurely shot their wad on what was supposed to be a dry-run, so they ended up with a bit of a mess on their hands. Then they transitioned right into the new song, Blue Sky, which, in turn, transitioned right into Daily Routine.

I was pleasantly surprised when they performed Slippi off of Here Comes The Indian, but not as hyped as I was when Summertime Clothes came on. For some reason, that is by far my favorite track off of MPP. When they played Who Could Win A Rabbit, I was unsure at first what I was hearing. It has certainly changed a great deal with the use of purely electronic instruments. I definitely would have preferred it if they played that song with real instruments, but that’s just me. I could have gone for a lot more real instrumentation to be honest. They closed their initial set with Guys Eyes, followed by a version of Fireworks that lasted about ten minutes long. Random girls started to jump up on the stage and dance around behind the band, but were swiftly taken off of stage and booed like the entitled brats that they are. The chopter sound morphed through the chords played by Noah as Avey sang through with different lyrics. For their encore, Animal Collective started with the new song Bleed. Even though I knew that Lion in a Coma wasn’t going to be played with a live didgeridoo put through a delay pedal, I really hoped it would have been. The electronic sound was close enough that and the fast-paced chorus and beat were great to groove to. Of course, they ended the show with Brothersport and it was over as quickly as it had begun.

If there is one thing that can be said about the show, it’s that it lived up to my expectations. Despite the annoying fans that I was surrounded by who seemed intent on ruining the show for me, I saw Animal Collective from a close distance and watched them experiment with the songs I have come to love. I may have been a bit harsh on the Detroit. I’m sure that in other areas of the venue, the douche bag to fan ratio was far smaller, but for those of you assholes in the front, and you know who you are, you’re doin’ it wrong. Judging from your social behavior, none of you seem intelligent enough to do more than tedious and repetitive factory jobs, but you should not have much trouble finding a factory job in Detroit. Wait . . .

-James

Friday was a pretty awesome day to say the least. I woke up around 7 am and biked to school where I took the last final of the semester and was the fourth person in a class of sixty to finish. Feeling a sudden freedom from the stress that had been looming over my head for the past month, I went home and recorded a song I had been working on before calling my friend Joe to bike over. We left around 6 on our bikes out to Lakewood to see some bands play at The Soggy Dog house, which is on the corner of Bell and Clifton. There were a lot more people in attendance than I had expected there to be, but the line-up was pretty stacked. Annabel started things off in the cramped basement filled with about 30 kids. The narrow room had Christmas lights hanging from the low ceiling and a single lamp light at right stage. I was especially excited to see Annabel so it was great that I was able to get close and actually see things. Their guitarist, Ben, has a pretty nice little pedal-board, but I forgot to snap a picture of it.  After their set, I asked to buy a $5 t-shirt off of him. He asked me if I had a blog and, feeling somewhat guilty, I replied “Yeah, I do. I’m sorry that I posted your album, but I really just wanted to get the word out, yknow?”. He just smiled and said that he was glad that I liked it and felt the need to post it. I know that they’re a small band and could use any publicity they can get, but it’s still really awesome when musicians are in favor of people listening to their music regardless of whether or not they get it through conventional means.

“It doesn’t even up!” (The lighting in here, fix it plz)

Slingshot Dakota were supposed to play last, but Little Sister did for some reason. The guys in both bands bickered at each other during the set, but it was all in good fun. The two man band had a really fun set, everyone got pretty into it. I saw them last July at Berea Fest 3, but I had no idea their following in the area was so large. It seemed more like they were playing a show in their home town as opposed to a town they tour through, which they noted with choked up voices and teary eyes. Everything was going great and suddenly we were sobered up as their drummer gave a speech about sexual assault. He said that he never had anything to sing about before a recent event shook him up just as it was doing before our eyes. Eric Ayotte was filming in the background for the entirety of their set, so don’t be surprised if you see me on ifyoumakeit.com wearing a Burger King crown. Near the end of their set, they covered Fugazi’s “Waiting Room” with a surprisingly honorable cover given that they were working with just drums and keys.

Check out the tattoo of hearts flowing from Bambi’s body, girls love that shit.

Kid Sister was the last band to play in the basement and by far the most intense set of the night. I recognized their singer from around Cleveland State University, although I had never spoken to him. Honestly, he had better stage presence than most nationaly touring bands. I don’t listen to quite as much hardcore as I used to, but this band reminded me of why I liked it so much in the beggining: sheer force and uncompromisable will concentrated into heavy rffs and chaotic shouts. Joe took a few really nice shots of the band so I’m going to drop some on youe now and let you imagine what it was like.

Young children approve of Little Sister!

Thrasher tramp stamp FTW or FTL?

Unfortunately, I am only able to cover half of this show. There were three acoustic acts playing upstairs after including Katie Merkur, American War, and Eric Ayotte of Halo Fauna. I’m sure that they all played amazing sets and I regret not staying around for them, but I had other plans. I went out to a party in Little Italy and got incredibly drunk before going on the college radio from 2-4 am to help my friend Adam do his first show, which was also my first time on the radio. That’s right,  drunk on the radio.

Scratching my head because I just found out that you’re supposed to be on painkillers when on the radio. ZING!

Annabel’s Myspace

Slingshot Dakota’s Myspace

- James

DOWNLOAD BOTH LINKS OR THOM YORKE WILL COME TO YOUR HOUSE AND PUT THE HURT ON YOU.

Link 1

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For a moment there I lost myself. I forgot how utterly obsessed with Radiohead I am. I don’t care what anyone says. They are by far the most creative, relevant, talented, dynamic, adaptive, emotive, influential, and awe-inspiring group of musicians of all time. People say that to claim they are the new Beatles is blasphemous, but I would go as far as stating that they will go down in history as even more legendary. No one even comes close to them. They are, in effect, untouchable. They soar over their competition with grace and ease as they create real art in an era that is cluttered with garbage pop music and talentless bands trying to make a quick buck and become ‘a part of something’. For Radiohead, it’s completely different. They are something. They are everything that any musician should aspire to become: independent, creative, and free. They are known all around the world and command legions of die-hard fans, such as myself. People wonder why Thom Yorke is such an asshole, but it’s pretty obvious. The man is expected to be the figurehead of modern music and he’s only 40 years-old, yet somehow everything he puts out is gold. Their sounds are inventive and nostalgic spanning several genres in a single song. Radically evolving over every album they release and putting on the best live concert that man has ever known. It’s almost unfair to use words when describing them because I feel I will never do them proper justice. For a moment there I forgot about my love for Radiohead, then I listened to this live set once again and was instantly transported back to the happiest day of my life.

Weathered and worn, but kept for sentimental value

It’s been 271 days since I first saw my favorite band perform live at Lollapalooza. I had planned on taking the megabus the day before, but I had scheduled it for the wrong date and didn’t realize until I was denied the ride by the bus driver. Upset, but in no way deterred, I got picked up by my mom who left work to drive me home from downtown. I left my home in Cleveland, Ohio within a half hour and drove for 6 1/2 hours by myself. To be perfectly honest, it didn’t fade me in the slightest bit. Sure, it was boring as all hell sitting by myself for that long while driving straight through the mid-west, but the excitement running through my veins made it go by pretty quickly. When I finally got into Chicago it was pretty surreal. For the past four months, I had dreamed about the events that were going to happen in just 24 hours. It was the only thing that I could think about for weeks. That night, I struggled to fall asleep. The next day, I was going to one of the most well known music festivals in the United States, let alone the world, to see the biggest band on the planet perform. The following days would bring the second two days of Lollapalooza and seeing Radiohead once again in my hometown, bringing it to a total 4 days of music, making it the summer of my dreams condensed into 96 hours. Not to mention, a week later I drove to Pittsburgh to see Deerhunter in a tiny venue and got to hang out with Bradford Cox afterward.

Who wants to play volleyball?

I have been to many shows in my life and I knew that this was going to be the best before Radiohead had even taken the stage. We went to the AT&T stage about 3 1/2 hours before they were scheduled to play. Gogol Bordello was playing and they were extremely rowdy. We came along the right side and crept in as the set was ending. I used my size to my advantage and squirmed through people as my high school friend, Mike, who I was staying with, and his friends followed close by.

That’s a pretty big bloc, guys…

Bloc Party was set to perform before them, but they played with a fill-in bassist, as theirs was not there because his first child had just been born. It affected their stage presence but I thought they still did a pretty good job. And so, we waited. I watched as the most amazing light show I have ever seen was brought out and set up. About 15 minutes before the set started Mike put me up on his shoulders and I saw the seas of people behind us. We were only 20 people back with at least 75,000 behind us.

Seas of people.

Everyone became extremely excited as we saw that the banners were dropped revealing huge speakers. Everyone rushed another 20 feet closer and I literally climbed over people. Soon we saw Thom, Jonny, Ed, Colin, and Phil take the stage. Something came over me and everything else in the world shut off. I remember feeling more alive in that moment than I have in years.

This was my view of the show at the beginning

They started off the set with some electronic bleeps and bloops and transitioned into the 5/4 beat that signaled 15 Steps. I remember being in disbelief that this was happening to me and felt as though in some way myself and the other 75,000 + people were connected. We shared the same beam of life if only for a moment. “One by one, one by one, it comes to us all.” the lyrics seemed all too fitting for such an occasion. The Oxford band quickly switched to an older number, Airbag, off of what is arguably their most successful release, OK Computer. Unfortunately, for reasons unknown to me, that song is not included in the soundboard recordings that I have uploaded. Next up was There There off of their 2003 release Hail to the Theif. I must admit that during this performance I cried multiple times, this being the first occurrence.

A really tall bro wearing an aqua polo was standing in front of me. He had to be at least 6′ 5″ and didn’t know any of the lyrics. I asked him if I could move in front of him as I had never seen my all time favorite band before and he scoffed at me. I tried to get around him but he wouldn’t let me through. Soon enough though, a kid crowd-surfed and he was hit in hit head since it was towering above us. I saw my opening and I took it, getting me another 10 feet closer. He saw me soon after and gave me a dirty look but I couldn’t have cared less. I didn’t consider him to be as true a fan as myself and therefore he shouldn’t have any right to be upset that someone who actually cared about the event was able to get closer.

Soon the band moved onto another In Rainbows track, All I Need. During the breakdown near the end of this song I remember having an out of body experience and since the music was so loud I couldn’t help but rock out harder than I have in my entire life. Next up was Nude which was equally as awesome. You know that break halfway through that song before the soothing oohs that Thom and the rest of the band sing? I again started to tear up again right then. This isn’t real I kept telling myself. This isn’t happening to me. Weird Fishes-Apreggi (In Rainbows) quickly lead into The Gloaming (Hail To The Theif). The lights for the Gloaming were incredible but nothing compared to those synchronized for The National Anthem, which was the first Kid A track of the night. The song started as it always does with a different radio broadcast track. This time it was two DJ’s (I think it was the guys from Sound Opinions) talking about an artist who “Mixed Liquid Liquid with Frankie Goes To Hollywood”. During the recording of The National anthem Thom told the session musicians to “go crazy as if they were stuck in a traffic jam”. The result is one of my favorite Radiohead songs and a great one to dance around to. Flashes of red light surrounded me and it was the most amazing thing my eyes have ever beheld.

“OMG, GREEN LIGHTS!”

Ed, Phil, and Colin stepped off stage as Thom and Jonny played the acoustic song Faust Arp. The other men joined to play another Ok Computer song, No Surprises. During this song, after Thom sings “bring down the government, they don’t speak for us”, everyone cheered incredibly loudly. You can hear it alright on the recording, but actually beeing there was a different story because somehow it actually drowned out the band if only for a second. Jigsaw Falling into Place was another great song live as expected, but the song that I was really looking forward to see was just up next. Reckoner is easily my favorite song off of In Rainbows and for good reason. “Dedicated to all you, all human beings” those words describe how the song made me feel better than any I could produce. Another fan favorite Lucky was up next followed by The Bends, the title track off of their 1995 release.

Having heard my fair share of live recordings I knew the next song’s live intro before the melody to Everything In It’s Right Place kicked in. The screen slowly spelled out the song title in as if it were a scrolling news reel. Since I was so close I couldn’t see it but there were fireworks from a baseball game that just so happened to appear right above the stage for that song and the following one, Fake Plastic Trees. Can you say epic as fuck? They played Bodysnatchers and left the stage. Soon the sound of music was replaced by tens of thousands of people cheering on five men to come back. I couldn’t possibly imagine what that feels like. To have that many people concentrated purely on you. In fact, Lollapalooza organizers didn’t even bother putting anyone else in their timeslot because they knew that Radiohead would draw everyone. Hell, most people didn’t even watch the Raconteurs  because they wanted to get a good spot. They were the only band playing the festival who were granted this treatment.

For their first encore Radiohead started with a slower song but at the same time, one of their most powerful, Videotape. The song is about Thom recording a day with his children so that they can watch it again after he has left this plane of existence. Paranoid Android was next and the breakdown at the end was of of the most intense musical moments any of us had ever witnessed. Dollars and Cents was the first and only Amnesiac song that they played.

They played House of Cards next which is in my opinion the weakest track on In Rainbows, but playing it meant that they had played every song off of In Rainbows. Unfortunately, non were played off of the second disc. Another Kid A track, Optimistic was played just before they left the stage again, but the song was among the best of the night and a great one to leave the stage on.

Near the end of the show I was incredibly close to the stage.

For their second encore they played 2+2=5. It’s the first song off of Hail to the Thief and one that encourages you to fuck shit up, which is exactly what happened as people forged their own path out of the park over broken fences and flocking people acted like lemmings, myself included. To end the night, they played Idioteque off of Kid A and we were treated to Thom’s dancing one last time. We cheered for a couple of minutes, none of us completely comprehending what had just happened

Then it was over.

People were sitting on the ground crying and hyperventilating. I remember being in a state of such high euphoria that i forgot where I was entirely. I just sat down and thought for a few minutes.

Once again,  I told myself that what just happened wasn’t real. Luckily for me, it was.

- James

The Double Team is comprised of DJ Twerkle (Michael Cutrone) and DJ Eso (Vince Manzano), two college-aged kids who own neighboring clothing stores in Cleveland Heights, specifically on the Coventry strip. When their friend, Jared, had his going away party, the two collaborated for the party in an effort to make it more memorable. They decided to take things to the next level by continuing with the spirit of fun that was present that night. Soon, they had set up a Saturday night residency at local bar/venue The Euclid Tavern. The two had formed a community around these events, which were almost always packed with some of the hippest kids in Cleveland. After about 5 months of going hard, the relationship with the Euclid Tavern became strained and the two decided to part ways. They’re working at finding a new space in Cleveland where they can play weekly shows again. Until then, the two are doing what they do best: networking through their promotion group Sneaker Eater to set up shows at various colleges while honing their sound and ‘going ham’.

I got a call from Mike around 2 pm on Friday asking if I wanted to come with them to Ohio University for their show. I got a ride and was in Coventry within an hour. Around 4:30 Mike, a few friends, and I started the long and boring drive to OU. The entire time we were just in anticipation of the bash that was to ensue. At least we could be entertained by Mike French’s tales of juvenile delinquency, which ranged from filling a syringe full of piss and squirting it in a Rhabbi’s mouth before peeling out to what can only be described as the most disgusting and bizarre sexual encounter man has ever known. I won’t go into details, but let’s just say she was a bleeder the way Michael Phelps is a swimmer.

We finally pulled into 33 Fern around 9pm. The house was pretty huge and the ground level was a parking garage. Along with Pam, who drove me, I was asked to sweep the garage. Pam’s broom broke almost instantly so I was forced to sweep the entire garage by myself. I didn’t mind doing it since these people were letting out of town kids throw a huge party, but I didn’t see much of a point since the place was just going to get more trashed from drunken kids. The pavement was strewn with empty cases of beer, earrings, and pizza boxes. All of which were signs of a drunken and belligerent haze that happens on a daily basis. After sweeping, I walked upstairs and opened the door to what I thought was Priscilla’s apartment. Turns out, when I opened the door 4 bros were slamming beers and watching tv. One stood up and stared me down, as if to signal that he wanted to fight me, which wouldn’t have been much of a fight at all. Being respectful. I quickly said “Oh sorry, I must have walked into the wrong apartment”. They each looked at each other and laughed loudly as I shut the door. I felt a little embarrassed and humiliated because I’m sure I looked ridiculous holding a broom and dustpan. However, I was moreso aghast at how typical the whole situation was. Immature drunken douchebags, what more can you expect from students that go to a school in the middle of nowhere that is most well known for the amount of alcohol their students consume?

The next time I walked into an apartment, it was the right one. Everyone started coughing as soon as I came in because of all the dust. And so, again we waited. It felt like this party was taking absolutely forever to go down. It was now 9:45 and Mike, Pam, and I were sitting along in the kitchen. Vince and his car full of people were getting close. Pam kept on coughing so I told her “Yeah, relish in my dust.” Dan Burns, who had set up the party and purchased the 12.5 liters of vodka, came in with a massive box filled with 500 Styrofoam cups. Vince finally got in along with Rod who was snapping photos for the ill-life.

Hey, that’s my back!

And so, the jungle juice was to be made. There was a bit of a snafu about the jungle juice, in that, there was no direction being made. Mike French and I took it upon ourselves to empty all 12.5 liters into a tub, which was of great dismay to Dan, who was afraid all the alcohol would be drunken by a select few kids. Dan proceeded to bitch out Mike French, whose only response was a nonchalant “Fuck you, Dan! I’m going to puke on you tonight!” Then we realized that there were no power outlets in the garage. We had to set up the high table, which had a bike chained to it, close to the door and ran an extension cord across.

Mine as well have been a bucket of blood since this party was killer. (Once again, sorry for my pun, it’s a condition…)

Around 11 people started to fill in the garage and the two set up their equipment. They let playlists fill the air as people started to to mingle and get a buzz off of the jungle juice. Having had a full cup of the potent mix before it was diluted, I got drunk relatively early. By 11:26, I was drunk enough to call my favorite person on the internet, Max Mckenna, who has just started a new blog over at BadWaves that you should all check out. People started to loosen up and dance. I saw Rod over at the right speaker and I said to him “Hey, you know what would be meta? Take a photo of me jotting down notes, it will be documenting documentation.” He put his hand over his mouth and pointed to the ground, where I saw the cup of jungle juice I had just kicked, spilling all over the hat I had bought a week ago and worn twice. Ah alcohol, how you have made a fool of me once again.

Groupie x 2

While there was not an incredible amount of people at the show a vibe circulated the room and everyone was in a damn good mood. To be honest, I’m quite glad that there was not “200 people” there because it allowed for everyone to drink for hours as opposed to everyone drinking the juice quickly leaving for some to be really drunk, but most to be buzzed. The good nature being exuded by everyone made me think to myself “This is music; people dancing, socializing, and having a good time. Breaking down barriers and allowing for strangers to experience something larger than themselves” Damn, maybe I was drunk.

Daft Punk’s “Around The World” effortlessly morphed into MGMT’s “Kids” as random people started to dance on each other and the party really got going. I introduced myself to Doxx, who was going to perform in a bit. Vince and Mike continued to play a diverse selection of old and new tracks that kept the attendants on their feet. The two busted club beats worthy of great acclaim, shifting from one track the to next, the band attempted to curate a party that was larger than itself.

Lonely boy is lonely

Alcohol was quickly depleting and the evidence was all around me; slurred words, bodies grinding, chance glances, and the care-free slaphappy expression on the faces looking back at me. By this point, everyone was drunk enough to not give a damn about most anything. I went upstairs for a bit to discuss whether or not Prince was a better performer than Michael Jackson with 3 or 4 kids I had never met before. For some reason, I feel like more gets said in drunken conversations than sober ones. It’s generally a good indication on someone’s particular brand of swagger.

Doxx to open a Big Boy…details will follow

At 12:41 the lights cut along with the music and hoots and hollers from fucked up kids became the intro music for Doxx to come spit something. In an intimate setting, the blowing-up rapper from Cleveland Hts. Really showed his steez as he spit over Pixies bass-lines leaving me wondering where my mind was. After a few songs, Doxx faded back into the party. Tootsie Roll lead way for Digitalism’s “Pogo”, which seems to be somewhat of a staple song for the two DJ’s.

The last thing I remember of the night is sitting in the back of the car I came in around 3 am. Mike said something about wanting to crash and I concurred. The next thing I knew, it was 6:30 am and I was freezing in the backseat of the car, which was empty aside for myself. I tried to cover up the best I could, but nothing seemed to work. I soon noticed that we were not parked where the party was. Instead, we were parked in front of a white house. I walked up to the house, assuming that my friends were inside, but I saw empty boxes of diapers in the recycling bin, so I deduced that it couldn’t possibly have been the house. I went back to the car just trying to stay warm and at 9:30 am everyone emerged out of the house. They assured me that it was no warmer in the house. In fact, someone accidentally turned on the Air Conditioning while trying to turn on the heat. Dumbass…

Anyway, the show was a testament to the team’s extreme perseverance. They could have just given up on DJ-ing until they found a new spot in Cleveland, but instead they went out of their way to set up a show at a stranger’s house hours away, with the help of a close friend. They didn’t have a decent PA system or even a proper table, but they still managed to pull of an awesome party with very limited options. It boggles my mind how these two are not playing the bigger venues in Cleveland, but I think that will change soon enough unless they keep on cultivating their own scene, which seems even more likely.

They are headed back to OU this coming weekend (April 10th, 2009) so check it out if you go there.

- James

Links:

The Above Boutique

Doxx

The Double Team

Heart And Sole

The Ill-Life

Sneaker Eater

It was a cold night in Lakewood on Monday when my girlfriend and I tried to find the Soggy Dog House, where Paul Baribeau and Ginger Alford where playing acoustic Bruce Springsteen covers. The musky house doesn’t have any proper audio equipment (It’s a D.I.Y. house, what do you expect?), but what it lacks in sound quality it more than makes up for with its character and homegrown charm. I had been there a few times before and there was a lot of room to move around. This was not the case on Monday, March 23, 2009. There were at least 50 kids in attendance, making the already small space seem much more cramped.

I was unable to see the first act at all behind the ten people who were standing in front of me. I often take for granted how much a stage improves visibility. The second person to play was Richard Wehrenwolf. Everyone busted out a few covers and his set was no different. To be completely honest, I was unsure as to who he was covering, so I wont go and embarrass myself by getting it wrong. I can tell you his set included one of the funniest heckles that I have ever heard. In between his songs, just as everyone had quieted down, someone exclaimed “Shut up, dude, you touched my weiner!”. Needless to say, everyone busted out in laughter. I was quickly getting annoyed with Scott Heisel, editor in chief of Alternative Press, who was standing near me. The guy is really nice and I see him at shows from time to time, but I am against most everything his magazine promotes. He was trying to justify to some kid that they had to put shitty bands on the cover because it sells magazines. Sure, I can get behind the fact that he wants to make a profit, and more power to him for having a successful magazine in an era where music information is posted online almost immediately, but it seemed a bit at odds with the d.i.y. aesthetic that the show was based upon. It’s like, how can you really think that if you are here? Whatever, I’m sure that he doesn’t care what some ‘blogger’ has to say about him. He has become successful in music journalism and goes to shows almost daily for free. In that regard, I envy him.

Now, back to the show. American War played next and, thankfully, he asked us all to sit down. My legs were pretty beat from standing in one place for a while. He decided to get his covers out of the way first and play his own songs after. He played a song by Green Day before announcing, “This next one is by a local band”. Funny thing is, every member of Two Hand Fools were in attendance. When he started playing Old Men, off of Rivers, Ryan just smiled and reluctantly watched his friend cover his song.

I knew that in order to get a decent picture of Paul Baribeau’s beautifully shaggy beard for all of you, I would need to get close. For some reason unbeknownst to me, Paul and Ginger were the only act that stood on chairs so that everyone could see their faces, if nothing else. Ginger was nervous that she would fall off and hurt somebody, but Paul was not concerned at all. “Psh, I’ll stand on one foot . . . see, I don’t even care!” I may not be doing the man justice, but if the whole music thing doesn’t work out for him, I think he could make it as a stand-up comedian, no pun intended. The two played Bruce’s greatest hits while discussing their love for The Boss. “Every time you hear a Bruce Springsteen album for the first time you think to yourself ‘What the fuck is this shit?’, then you realize ‘HOLY FUCK this is his best album I have ever heard!’. During the short break halfway through Born To Run, Paul took a quick break and said “Somebody fucking count it off” and immediately everyone in the room shouted “1! 2! 3! 4!” and the crowd continued yelling the lyrics on the top of their lungs. They ended their set asking for people to come check out the cd they were selling for 5 dollars, making sure to note that no one should “let their cool dad’s know about it” for fear that they would have to pay royalties. I felt inclined to purchase not only the album, which included 5 live songs I did not previously have, but also a poster of Bruce’s pixilated image. It was by far the most fun free show I have been to.

Thursday morning, I woke up at 7 am feeling like shit.  For the past 6 or 7 days I had gotten 5 hours of sleep or less each night and it was finally taking it’s toll. I called my boss and left her a voicemail before passing back out until 11:30. Once I woke up, I continued to acquaint myself with Black Lips. I have known about them for a very long time and I have had their albums on my computer for about a year but for some reason I never really got too into them. Well, if that hadn’t changed from listening to them so much in the past week, it certainly changed after seeing them live Thursday night.

My friend Adam picked my up around 5:30 and we got some food before heading over to the Beachland. When we walked in we caught the last two songs of the opening band (can’t remember their name).  Clevelanders Hot Cha Cha took to the stage next. Made up completely of beautiful young women, they stormed the stage with a great deal of energy and enthusiasm if nothing else. Their lead singer walked through the crowd during one of their songs and danced around on random people. To be honest, I thought it was a bit too gimmicky. She was wearing bright yellow leggings and a black leotard, which made her look like a comic book character (I’m looking at you, Silk Spectre). This is when Gentleman Jesse and His Men took to the stage. Hailing from Atlanta, Georgia along with Black Lips they played a passionate interpretation of rock music. I really can’t wait to hear more from this band because they were damn good. It was a solid mix of country rock, indie rock, and garage rock that made for a really awesome opener..

During Gentleman Jesse’s set, Ian from Black Lips was shouting things at them from the floor near me. He started preaching some drunken half-baked philosophies to the kids in front of me. Initially, he was talking about space and how it was ever expanded. Then he started speaking about imperfections. “My girlfriend has a scar on her face . . . ” he said as I nodded along wondering how many shots he had just taken down.  He talked about how they only recorded with analog and if they didn’t make a great take, then that’s fine because rock isn’t perfect. I could appreciate this sentiment of being content with your best.

Before I even start writing about Black Lips’ performance, you should know that this was one of the most fun, rowdy, and memorable shows I have been to in my entire life.  Cole came onto the stage donning a poncho and black farmers hat. His band members followed soon thereafter.  They played their songs for a time and everything was right with the world. Somehow, I had managed to get to the very front of the stage and some scene girl who was taking pictures next to me kept on trying to push me away. I pushed her back hard and she didn’t try again. While they were about 5 or 6 songs deep I felt someone tapping my back. I turned around to see that it was my friend Maggie who I usually just see at shows. I made room for her in between scene photo bitch and myself. Maggie had a PBR tallboy, which I took a sip of while bobbing my head and moving my body to the beat.

The next thing I know, scene photo girl takes the almost full PBR and splashes it all over Cole while he is in the middle of a song. Thinking that it was Maggie who splashed Cole, Jared walked right up to her and emptied a full beer on her head. Luckily, I had enough time to sidestep away from the stream and I stayed dry. Maggie’s friend noticed that Maggie was not deserving of getting soaked so he poured a beer on the photographer’s head. Jared put down his bass, started running in my direction, and flying tackled Maggie’s friend to the ground. Cole became extremely apprehensive and couldn’t decide whether or not he should jump off of the stage or go around the side to help out his band member. Cole jumped off the stage and grabbed Jared so that they could resume playing. They got back on stage as if nothing had just happened.

Maggie and the photographer were arguing, after the incident, while the show was still going on and the photographer said something along the lines of “That’s how we do it in ATL, bitch!” even though Maggie later told me that she is from Parma a.k.a. the white trash capitol of the greater Cleveland area (BIG SURPRISE!).

I decided not to let the incident ruin the show for me so I just turned around and watched the band perform. Projected on their backdrop was what I can only describe as a multi-colored swirling lava lamp, which can be viewed HERE. Update: It’s called an oil projector. Cole announced that the next song was Bad Kids, but the drummer said something about it and Cole followed up with “nevermind”. I was pretty bummed because I really wanted them to play it and they made it up to me by playing it a few songs later. I ran to the left so that I could be in the crowd of kids who were moving around.  The kids in the very front were smoking cigarettes (illegal in Ohio) and soon all of us were. It was actually a lot cooler than I am sure it sounds.

They had been saying the entire night that they had “a few songs left” but I knew when their last song started that it would indeed be their last song. Not wanting to waste the opportunity I looked at the guy to my left and pointed up. He nodded and I grabbed his shoulder and the shoulder of the person to my right. Falling back onto the hands of strangers is such a surreal and awesome experience. It’s something that I feel everyone should experience if only once in their lives. I made it around the room before being brought back to my original position without falling once.

Their set had ended and my friends and I walked outside. Maggie was speaking with the security guard who was acting as a middleman for the cop parked across the street. Apparently, Jared had sent her friend to the hospital and they wanted to press assault charges. I don’t think that they were successful because I didn’t see anything on the Internet about it the next day. UPDATE: They are pressing charges.

I left feeling exhausted, tired, and incredibly happy. All in all the show was human. It had imperfections and slip-ups. No, it wasn’t perfect at all, but I wouldn’t change a thing about it.

Photo Credit: Todd Kravos

I knew that going to the Wolf Eyes show on Friday night would give way for incredibly bizarre things to happen. To be honest, I had no idea what the show was going to be like. I got to Coventry around 8 and smoked with some friends before heading up to The Grog Shop, with my friend Max. We talked to our kind-hearted bouncer, Jon, for a good half hour since the show started an hour later than scheduled. During this time I was sitting on a stool near the bar and I saw a woman who was probably in her mid to late 40’s fall backwards off of her stool, only to lay on the ground laughing. Being stoned and confused, I just looked at the woman in a state of bewilderment and uncomfortability. I noticed that management moved the Photo Booth, Pinball Machine, and Ms. Pac-Man/Galaga Machine over to the other side of the room, where merch is generally sold. In it’s place were two benches that contoured to the corners. Sitting in this booth was a young woman who had a walker because something was wrong with her left foot and a few older people who definitely didn’t seem as though they really belonged at the show. Max and I laughed at all of the passerby’s reactions to the sound emanating from the Grog.

Skin Graft was the first act we saw. He stood in front of what looked like a decrepid suitcase which held all of his sound equipment. He was wearing a black sweater, had greasy black hair, and had an impenetrable gaze. Bass reverberated accross the venue and shook me from the ground up. Goosebumps lined my arms as shouts and screams from at least 7 different sources penetrated by ears. Slowly, the bass tones morphed into a beat that pulsated and gave the noise a sort of beating heart. He played for about 20 minutes before Emeralds set up their equipment and left the stage empty for about a half hour.

Emeralds were just as incredible as I had expected. One man was manning two keyboards and a synthesizer as another took the reigns of the pedals and modulation equipment, and yet another played guitar in a sitting position. Slowly building up to an earth shattering climax. Much like the previous act, they played for close to a half our before leaving the stage open for a half hour.

Wolf Eyes put up two black banners that read “WOLF EYES ALWAYS WRONG” spelled out in white spray paint. While they were setting up I realized that the girl in the walker was actually the girlfriend of the deathly looking first act. It seemed strange to me since her blonde hair and clothing seemed to be the exact opposite of her brooding counterpart. I guess it’s true what they say about opposites attracting. Anyways, Wolf Eyes were by far the most creative and interesting act of the night. John Olsen donned a denim jacket and some black sunglasses which seemed noteworthy as his presence exuded extreme bad-assery. Their guitarist, Mike Connelly, was a long haired man who NEVER STOPPED SHREDDING. Lead singer, Nate Young, passionately screamed as though his life depended on it. He sounded like he was channeling hell. John Olsen had a woodwind instrument that he obviously fashioned himself. The best way that I can describe it is an upside-down “Y” with a short stem and long branches. Nate Young experimented with these squeaks using his microphone, feedback, and various pedals. I like the idea of impromptu music; musicians exploring sound in a live setting. If you feel the same way, see them in your hometown.

Website

Photo Credit: Andrew Hagat