Can't Get Out Of What I'm Into

Cee Lo Green - FUCK YOU (Official Video)

2010-12-31T15:46:00.000-08:00

shit. it's almost 2011?

2010-12-21T09:21:00.000-08:00

so many good intentions, so many non-posts....

just today I had the good mind to actually do some writing and work on that for a while. Not concerned about an audience (if you're actually reading this - thanks! I apologize for this not being audience-driven, cuz I don't know who you would be...haha)

I have compiled an obligatory (because it's what my mind just does and I am inevitably influenced by the pop culture LIST obsessions that surround me) year-end list of music that made a big impression on me, things I just love/d this year, 2010....

here is that list, in no particular order:

"Cameras" Sidewalks - Matt & Kim

Still loving this song, never sick of it (yet) when I hear it on

the radio. The dancey riddem and shoulder/boob-shake-worthy beat drives the whole thing - 80s revival, all the way. But my fave bit is that killer melody line, in the chorus, that grabbed me in the first place. The, "no time for cameras, we'll use our eyes instead ... we'll be gone when we're dead.. I see flashes of go-oh-oh-ld.." oh yeah, *golden* pop!

"O.N.E." Odd Blood - Yeasayer

Just watch the video on this bugger.

Gawd, talk about your 80s, New Order revival to the max. Still loving this one, too.

"It's hard having fun/it's much easier said than it's da-hone" - how can you not love the acknowledgement of the ol' Crazy Heart mentality ("If there's such a thing as too much fun/This must be the price to pay/Funny how fallin' feels like flyin'/Only for a little while") in a popped-out, dance, electro, tribal beat number? That "you don't move me anymo-a-hoor/And I'm glad you that you don't" bit is pure ode-to-New Order for me, which is why I placed it right after "Bizarre Love Triangle" on ye olde Wedding Dance Mix. This song got one of the best responses, joy-fueled dance-wise at the par-tay...and this was one of my ultimate highlights/memories from Lollapalooza, too. Double-percussion dance party in the park!!

"Shark in the Water" Traveling Like the Light - V.V. Brown

This was a Bust (mag) discovery, at first for me. I was blown away by her look (see image above and note 9 foot gams) and her roots (She’s a Brit and of is Puerto Rican and Jamaican descent she’s a genius, and ended up declining offers from top universities (including Oxford. yeah.) to follow her musical heart. Love that.) Then I finally heard her on the radio, and got totally hooked by this hook. The rest of the album is great, too.

"Fuck You," The Lady Killer - Cee Lo Green

Almost as brilliant as "Crazy"? Yeah, I kinda think maybe it is. I am *in love* with this song and the humor, the spite and catchy groove. Add the sentiment for these hard times, "I guess the change in my pocket wasn't enough/Now, ain't that some shit?" Ain't that some shit? The video is also amazing. (See previous post, above)

"Detroit Detroit," Keep it To Yourself - Erik Koskinen

Another perfect anthem to suit us all and address that current, somewhat bleak state of American life. A rollicking, country bar rally cry to go out, "take your money" to the Motor City and party like there's no tomorrow, cuz that might just be true. Bleeding jobs, homes lost, bleak outlook in Detroit, you say? Fuck it. Let's rock this city.

"American Slang," - Gaslight Anthem ...see more...(June post)

"Wait So Long," Palomino - Trampled by Turtles

Finally, TBT get the production they deserve. Oh, and the exposure! Perfect album for it, too. Shows off the best of what the boys can do.

BLACK KEYS - BROTHERS - THE WHOLE ALBUM - SEEING THEM AT LOLLA - WHEW.,

"I got your name tattooed inside of my arm..."

2010-06-29T07:52:00.000-07:00

Well, hi, there.

How bad, bad, bad...been so damn long, I think my writing muscle has atrophied. Well, let's hope not.

Lots of stuff has happened in my life. (don't worry - I don't want to turn this into THAT kind of blog. MUSIC and pop culture are still the point of this thing - because that's what drives me to write.) humph.

I have a new (well, since freaking February) job...it's pretty great, and it beats the old one, which is always good...I can listen to music, most days, now...and that really makes life better. Always.

I'm a freaking homeowner now... so, I can play Madonna REALLY loud and not have to face neighbors down the hall with shame. Those days are over, man.

I lost a good friend in April and it's really shaped everything that's happened since. Not a day goes by that I don't think about you, Sarah...

The Gaslight Anthem crept into my consciousness at the same time we lost Sarah... and the song, "American Slang" was just about the most perfect thing to comfort me, and it seemed to be about Sarah, to me. In that way that when you hear a song at a certain moment, and it just speaks to your pain ("want to hear some sounds that recognize the pain in me" style). Even if the lyrics aren't *really* about it, specifically...it just suits the moment, suits where you are in your life.

I just needed something emotive and *earnest*, I guess. That's Bruce....and then, you hear these young Jersey punks pulling the same thing...oh, and it's on the RADIO, and then you hear it when your in the shower, or at work, or in the car...and it puts its stakes in ya.

The thing about Sarah, you gotta know, is that she was magic, when it came to bringing people together and making plans, and just LIVING life to it's total fullest. She loved music, partying, baseball, UK football, kickball, animals, and she loved making us all happy - making us all laugh. And when I hear that line, "you told me fortunes in American slang," I just think of everything she brought into my life and all the music I saw with her and all the smiles and hysterical laughter...So, it really fits - I s'pose I created the connection, myself, but I know that's exactly what songs (and ART, really) are all about. It's written and it's put out there ... and then it reaches the individual and it will touch us all in different ways, we all get something different out of it...

and there's the line that Fitzy calls the real kicker...

“I got your name tattooed inside of my arm,”
It’s the way Brian Fallon sings it, it’s an angry, defiant cry, and it’s the ringing guitars and heavy, pulsating beat behind it all. It’s full of pain and it sure seems like he’s telling someone who isn’t there anymore…The word that keeps on persisting in my head during the song is *indelible*. Sarah left an indelible mark on all of us – we will always have her spirit/personality/light she gave us, especially when we're all together (all of her friends that she bonded together – she was the *glue* holding us all together)….and some of us took it to another level and got tatts. Those who partook got tattoos of nautical stars. Sarah had 8 red stars on her arm. It made sense to us who got them, right away – it was gonna have to be permanent – just like what she left us…this song sure speaks to that...

So, I dig the Gaslight Anthem, now. It really has a helluva lot to do with when the single "American Slang" hit the airwaves...and now I am loving the album, American Slang - been a lil' obsessed with it, lately...

Here's a cool Brian Fallon-solo-version of the song:

ze best of 2009

2009-12-13T14:18:00.000-08:00

ahhh! so much good music, it almost surprised me! (hard to distill down to this, even)

Here is my mix of the stuff deserving attention and praise in 2009:

Get On Your Boots, 2009

"Fresh Air" Brother Ali, Us
"Hysteric" The Yeah Yeah Yeahs, It's Blitz!
"Hang You from the Heavens" The Dead Weather" Horehound
"Cornerstone" The Arctic Monkeys, Humbug
"While You Wait For the Others" Grizzly Bear featuring Michael McDonald
"Get On Your Boots" U2 No Line on the Horizon
"The Wrestler" Bruce Springsteen Working on a Dream
"Something Is Squeezing My Skull" Morrissey Years of Refusal
"Ulysses" Franz Ferdinand Tonight: Franz Ferdinand
"Fire" Kasabian West Ryder Pauper Lunatic Asylum
"Home" Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeros, Up From Below
"Beyond Here Lies Nothing" Bob Dylan Together Through Life
"!Viva La Gloria!" Green Day 21st Century Breakdown
"Head Full of Doubt, Road Full of Promise" Avett Brothers I and Love and You
*bonus track*: "Red Right Hand" Arctic Monkeys Crying Lightning single

why (I don't really need an answer)

2009-12-11T11:52:00.000-08:00

HOW is that some music just sinks in immediately, and other stuff takes a whiiiile to marinate?

Is it better when it takes longer?

Is the quickly pleasing stuff that's easier to digest lacking in some way?

But what about the Beatles?

ha.

video for Cornerstone -- bizarre and wonderful

2009-10-17T10:02:00.000-07:00

why I am so happy

2009-09-25T17:36:00.000-07:00

the Arctic Monkeys are just a few short hours from hitting the First Avenue stage.

they just played a live in-studio with Mark Wheat.

Wheat said he asked Alex what his favorite Beatles' record was, he said Rubber Soul.

Wheat speculated that the lads "might just do a Beatles cover tonight."

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Moz-like?

2009-09-13T20:11:00.000-07:00

ok, so maybe they were right...I read several references to Moz when it came to this beaut of a song...(actually did take a bit to grow on me) then I got finally got the joke of it, and went with it. (the Moz melodrama of how Alex draws out the line, "I eeelooong-ated my lift home"... I'd like to hear that old man cover that shit.

Cornerstone

I thought I saw you in The Battleship but it was only a look alike
She was nothing but a vision trick under the warning light
She was close, close enough to be your ghost
But my chances turned to toast when I asked her if I could call her your name

I thought I saw you in The Rusty Hook, huddled up in a wicker chair
I wandered over for a closer look and kissed whoever was sitting there
She was close and she held me very tightly until I asked awfully politely
"please can I call you her name?"

I elongated my lift home
I let him go the long way round
I smelt your scent on the seat belt and kept my short cuts to myself

I thought I saw you in The Parrot's Beak messing with the smoke alarm
It was too loud for me to hear her speak and she had a broken arm
It was close, so close that the walls were wet
And she wrote it out in Letraset
"No, you can't call me her name"

Tell me where's your hiding place
I'm worried I'll forget your face
I've asked everyone
I'm beginning to think I imagined you all along

I saw your sister in The Cornerstone on the phone to the middle man
When I saw that she was on her own I thought she might understand
She was close, well you couldn't get much closer
She said "I'm really not supposed to but yes, you can call me anything you want"

no, it's not Bah...

2009-09-13T19:45:00.000-07:00

inevitably, I am fully hooked to the newish (got it at midnight on August 23...) Arctic Monkeys' record, "Humbug." The title is a name for a popular hard candy found 'cross the pond. From what I hear, it involves peppermint and is said to have a "warming effect" -- cause it's a Christmas candy. (nothing to do with Mr. Scrooge, although the lads are "fully aware" of that connotation.

It's so layered and dark and sexy. Alex Turner really has matured. His voice is deeeeeper, sexier, more measured...he takes his time now, musically and vocally... teases it out. Which, goes behind the idea of the album title and feel as a whole, really -- take your time with it and it slowly reveals itself to you -- this was what they are saying their intent was. For me, I sunk in pretty hard quite fast. The melodies were infectious almost right away. Helders' drumming is even more impressive and unrelenting than ever before -- driving the frenzied beats behind the heavy dark geetars. That makes it sexy, too. More than they ever were before. I like this. It's something I actually didn't foresee... well, that and the possibility of drugs in the desert with Josh Homme. Turns out it's a brilliant move and I love hearing that adventure in the music.

I was probably able to digest this one more quickly because we had JUST seen them (twice!!) in Chicago for my birthday weekend, at the Metro and at Lollapalooza.
[A monumental and magical weekend, full of amazing music and love... James and I got engaged. Lou Reed serenaded us as we made the decision to get hitched. pretty spectacular...whew.]

So, the Arctic Monkeys played heavy on the new stuff (seemed like hardly any songs from the debut record) and I wasn't into it immediately...but the second go, at the festival -- they had a certain, far more urgent and intense and grand-scale vibe to it, They pushed it out on the huge crowd hard and heavy. The people were diggin it. Lot of range of ages over there, too. My favorite image was a tiny tot bouncing with his fist in the air to the rockers. It was precious.

"biggest crowd we've played to in America..."

the stuff of legends

2009-07-28T12:38:00.000-07:00

I feel like this has been an amazing season of music for me and Fitzy. We have been more determined than ever to see as much as we can -- grasping life by the balls, man! hehe. Specifically, we have seen some downright *legends* when it comes to pop culture/music...

saw Bruce in May

saw The Dead in May

saw X in June

saw Elvis Costello in July

gonna see LOU muthafuckin REED in August (my first time!)

((I feel like I'm finally ready to see Reed...I think I appreciate him more than I ever had before AND I had just re-read all those wonderfully fucked up meetings he'd had with Lester Bangs. Quite a history those two had...))

...and I get to see my beloved Arctic Monkeys (soon to be considered legends, of course...) in both August (on my birthday!?!?! what!?!? yes.) at the Metro AND at Lolla! AND in September when they come to First Ave. how cool is that? wonder if Mr. Costello will make another appearance and come to MPLS to see the lads again...that would be incredible.

MCA - get better quick!

2009-07-21T13:15:00.000-07:00

So, MCA from the Beasties has cancer. (check out their website -- MCA and AdRock have a lil' video message up).

So....they're cancelling their slot at Lolla....

the Yeah Yeah Yeahs are replacing them.

this could be interesting...

Here's hopin for a successful surgery for MCA...love to you, man.

right now....

2009-07-09T18:14:00.000-07:00

REALLY diggin the Green Day epic....I was dubious at first, too. but it's really powerful, catchy, angsty and articulate. Billie Joe keeps evolving -- kinda makes me think of Strummer, even. Like The Great Joe, as he becomes more in tune with what makes him angry ("anger can be power - did you know that you can use it?") Billie Joe seems to be taking that sentiment and fusing it (brilliantly) with his trademark powerfully poppy punk rock that can reach the masses (in a totally anthemic, fill the bleachers-way, to boot!). The great, ol' make 'em think whilst you make 'em dance/pogo/thrust-fist-in-air trick. Love it, and always will.

Also just recently read the RS interview with Green Day -- (and BJ is just as real and as great and as focused as I hoped he'd be) and he's all bout the East Bay still (reminded me of the manner in which Bruce still resides in Jersey). And Billie says that "A Quick One While He's Away," one of my all time fave Who masterpieces (the mini-rock-opera that never became the full epic that Pete had intended) is one of HIS all-time fave, influential pieces of music. I am listening to Green Day's version they recorded right this very moment and it is making me very happy. A total homage to Pete and the boys. 21st Century Breakdown, a three act, sprawling narrative about the characters *Gloria* (yeah, wtf. so damn cool for me) and Christian does the spirit of the Clash, the Who, Patti Smith and all the passionate punks proud.

Check your prejudices at the door and check this shit out.

This is my fave.

East Jesus Nowhere

Raise your hands now to testify
Your confession will be crucified
You're a sacrificial suicide
Like a dog that's been sodomized
Stand up! - All the white boys
Sit down! - All the black girls
You're the soldiers of the new world

Put your faith in a miracle
And it's non-denominational
Join the choir we will be singing
In the church of wishful thinking 


A fire burns today
Of blasphemy and genocide
The sirens of decay
Will infiltrate the faith fanatics 

Oh bless me lord for I have sinned
It's been a lifetime since I last confessed
I threw my crutches in
The river of a shadow of doubt
And I'll be dressed in my Sunday best

Say a prayer for the family
Drop a coin for humanity
Ain't this uniform so flattering?
I never asked you a goddamned thing

A fire burns today
Of blasphemy and genocide
The sirens of decay
Will infiltrate the faith fanatics

Don't test me
Second guess me
Protest me
You will disappear

I want to know who's allowed to breed
All the dogs who never learned to read
Missionary politicians
And the cops of a new religion

A fire burns today
Of blasphemy and genocide
The sirens of decay
Will infiltrate the inside

giving the Yeah Yeah Yeahs another shot

2009-06-04T18:37:00.000-07:00

(best album cover I've seen in a while, dude)

I heard the song, "Hysteria" on the Current this eve....and DAMN, if it didn't sound DAMN good. I had to pull "Fever to Tell" off the dusty shelf and give it a spin. It made me remember that I really didn't *hate* the Y Y Ys, I just never took it more than mildly entertaining performance art that sometimes rocked. "Maps" hooked me into liking them more, but it kinda hit a dead end, and I never fully embraced them.

But when I just put on "Fever to Tell," It rocked me hard.

Made me feel like I felt when I used to headbang to the sounds of PJ Harvey and the Ramones in my formative years.

So, I had to go and get the new one (cover above), "It's Blitz!" and it's really solid -- layered, sexy production. Karen O's vocal not too tweaked, and sounding better than ever. Got me right away, especially the beautiful, thoughtful and melodic "Hysteric." Sweet, dancey, a bit crazy ...and there's *whistling.* It's fuckin great. There's also an even more lovely acoustic version...really made me feel so silly for ever dismissing them! her voice over acoustic geetar and strings..sexy and oh-so-pretty.

Speaking of sexy and pretty...I feel like I haven't been fair in my interpretation of Karen O and her "persona." I used to hate it. (The hair in the eyes completely, the re-dick fluorescent fishnet look, the drunken show "art" performance, yadda, yadda. It seemed like such shtick. blek.) I hate to even admit it, but early on, before I heard much, I thought she was a total hack that was coppin' a complete Chrissy Hynde vocal AND bangs cambo. ...but I see it now, her references to females and males of rock past and her own twist on it all. I can dig it. I think she's sexy, pretty, brave, funny and smart.

The radio single, "Heads Will Roll" I had been slowly accepting (after disregarding it pretty quickly as absurd -- almost a caricature of themselves). I flat out like it, now (!) haha I am loving the stupid/smart beat-driven dancedancedance shebang with my fave lyric right now:

"Glitter on the wet streets/ silver over everything/ the glitter's all wet / you're all chrome" -------- sublime.

I even have had a change of heart about their bloody NAME. I used to hate it. It was just annoying to three-peat all the time. I get it now. It's so simple, but the yeah yeah yeahs are everywhere in pop music and have been since the beginning. I get it, you guys and I love it. I love how Ramones it all is...yeeeeeeaah. (yeah, yeah)

still feels like a dream...

2009-05-12T20:41:00.000-07:00

did I *really* see "Rosalita" last night?

Yes. Yes, I did.

and this epic set:

Setlist:
Badlands
Radio Nowhere
Outlaw Pete
No Surrender
Out in the Street
Working on a Dream
Seeds
Johnny 99
The Ghost of Tom Joad
Raise Your Hand
Good Lovin'
Prove It All Night
The E Street Shuffle
Waitin' on a Sunny Day
The Promised Land
I'm on Fire
Kingdom of Days
Lonesome Day
The Rising
Born to Run
* * *
Hard Times
Tenth Avenue Freeze-out
Land of Hope and Dreams
American Land
Bobby Jean
Rosalita

morning tastes better with Fountains of Wayne

2009-04-28T05:16:00.000-07:00

specifically a rad, in-studio, Mary Lucia requested "Red Dragon Tattoo" -- one of my all-time-faves from FOW.

And I was *just* thinking how the Live Track of the Day at 7 in the morning is usually kind of a drag, and it's rarely a band I really like...and WTH!?

It surprised me and delighted me. (I especially loved the rocker piano bits!)

Lollipop and Fountains of Wayne frontman creates more pop magic in a lab

2009-04-22T11:56:00.001-07:00

Hi.

I've been *so bad* ... I know this.

But, here are my thoughts of late:

* went to the Sound Opinions (with Jim DeRogatis and Greg Kot) shindig at the Cedar on Monday. It was mostly awesome. Town hall-style, forum about the state of music and how the future (and the present) of technology changes everything. Thought they had some great points made about how fucked the record industry has been for...ever (they have a pont when they rhetorically ask: think of one great artist since the beginning of pop music that hasn't been fucked over by the industry in some way. Start with Robert Johnson and move your way though time, really).

SO, the cliche: the more things change, the more they stay the same kept coming up again and again...which was vaguely comforting, actually. Another comforting and awesome little factoid: Treehouse Records, my local record shop, has had a huge increase in sales of vinyl in recent months. Doesn't that make you feel warm and fuzzy inside? It does for me.

DeRogatis kept using Lil' Wayne's "Lollipop" as an example of "how much is a song worth?" and how a pop song can be both stupid and great (or was it stupid and clev-ah...??haha) at the same time. Me, having my head in the sand to some degree when it comes to a lot of popular music, right now (again, yes, I know...I've been bad) had NEVER even heard it. So, I got it and listened to and...it was pretty damn good. And silly. And I thought, at first, DAMN, that is sick. SO fucking graphic, man. And then, in the next second, I thought: well, shit, think of LITTLE (Lil'??)Richard and his lyrics to "Good Golly Miss Molly." (Y'know...she sure likes to *ball* and when we're rockin' and a' rollin'...doin' the deed, y'know...can't hear yo mama call....cuz of all the loud sex and such. So, what's the damn dif?

Love that you can always bring it back home like that.

*Have you heard the new Dylan single, "Beyond Here Lies Nothin'" yet? It's kinda amazing... I fell in love with it instantly which hasn't happened with "new" Dylan for me since...prolly "Things Have Changed." It rocks, it's weird, it's catchy and it has great doomsday lyrics.

*dig this concept: Taylor fucking Hanson (yep, from HANSON) fronting a band with James Iha from the Smashing Pumpkins and Cheap Trick drummer Bun E. Carlos. WTF, right? Who the hell came up with dis? Well, who the hell else but mad scientist of pop and rock, Fountains of Wayne's Adam Schlesinger. LOVE him. His brain is up there with Brian Wilson, I'm tellin' ya...

They're called Tinted Windows and I guess I'm slow on the uptake about this thing, but it sure sounds cool...or horrible. Can't say until I hear it now, can I? heh.

U2 FEVER

2009-03-10T15:47:00.001-07:00

Do you got it (yet)?

I got it.

BAD.

just...can't...stop...listeningtothenewrecord!!!!!

(more later...)

it sure FEELS like Spring....and LOOKS like Spring...

2009-02-10T13:22:00.000-08:00

So, I'm listening to the Stone Roses self-titled album because it is so very linked to Spring for me, I believe it will truly conjure up the season....right?

Ryan Bratty Adams and the problem with music journalism

2009-02-09T13:34:00.000-08:00

Fuck journalism, man. Well, not really. I still have lots of love... but all the music journalism I consume has got to have some ill consequences, right?

I always seem to tell people about the way I got into Oasis. I seem to always have to preface it --defend it-- with, "Well, I HATED them at first." That's not entirely true. I liked "Live Forever"--which was the very first Oasis song I ever heard. I even saw 'em do it on Letterman. Then, since I was bout it, bout it for all Brit mags, I was hit with the barrage of infamous quotations from the Gallagher brothers. My take on them, like many other observers, was: these lads are fucking wankers. So full of shit, soooo arrogant! It was maddening. It was enough to make myself close-minded and resist the pleasures of the Oasis sound until my dad made me realize that the boys could write some damn fine rock anthems. It's funny, because, although my dad got me into a lot of the rock base...(the brit bands, etc.), it took his insistence for me to get into something that should've been a no-brainer for me. (British, young, brash and loved the Sex Pistols? My dad does not care for the Sex Pistols, or any punk at all.) In fact, it was the linking to the Pistols that made me understand and accept the Gallagher brothers' attitude.

So it went with one young, brash, arrogant Ryan Adams. I was inundated (again, my own fault--can't stop!) with negative, obnoxious press about the kid before I heard one note of music. Especially his infamous, bratty on-stage breakdowns and diva drug dramas. I tried to distance myself from him and his music.

I remember waking up from a jet lag nap in London (Catu and I were visiting Racho..this is 2002, mind you) and seeing Adams' album Gold. The beautiful Irish flatmate of Racho's (goddammit, can't remember her name, now) was playing Achtung Baby. And all I could think was, areyoufuckingkiddingme? Irish chick plays U2 whist cooking dinner in her London flat and I'm here right now? wtf. But, Gold was sitting there. I thought, damn, he's huge, isn't he? People just adore his music. Maybe I should finally give him a chance. But, no. I was still so turned off by everything I had heard about him -- and it was a lot of shit, too (remember what Westerberg said?). And, really, that album cover!? Upside down American flag...come. on.

OK, so I realize how *shallow* it sounds-- to base my judgement on poor Ryan Adams on the bullshit and not the music. Well, I had heard the music...and I was drawn to it...a bit.

"Burning Photographs" (off of Rock'n'Roll) is something that I couldn't resist, even though you could say that it was slightly overplayed in the radio world (not exactly true, but I head it more than any other Ryan Adams song...besides "Stars Go Blue," but it wasn't even his version that I heard). That song and "New York, New York," from Gold were both very familiar to me, but not enough for me to investigate his music any further. It took an extremely random moment of catching the beginning of the movie, "Old School," (a Will Farrell vehicle....?) and his song off of "Heartbreaker"** called "To Be Young..." and I knew I had to give the music a chance. It was such a perfect song. I dug how raw and 60's (albeit very Bob Dylan of him) it was...it sounded old and new and I didn't know it was Adams...but I did. I figured it must be him. All the ("whooo, man!"s...) old slang, man. From what I knew of him, it fit.

I saw him in December, opening for (who else!?) Oasis! He didn't say a damn word. He shut up and sang and played (how many fans had shouted that demand, I wonder, over the years...?) His set was varied and entertaining, if not low-key. One of the most impressive things about Adams is how much he can change his voice and his persona and his genre and still make it work. It's almost disarming how he can alter his sound--but it's a beautiful thing (Neil Young is the master of this, for me, of course). Sometimes he is too sad-bastard for me. Sometimes the harmonica is overused. But I am liking him more and more. (Alicia, I have you to thank very much for all of this, too!) The man is talented. Interviews with him lately have been very intriguing (lots of press of late, with the release of Cardinology). (Like learning that Gold is simply about the making of Heartbreaker, essentially. makes total sense. they are companion pieces.) He's supposedly sober (after years of alcohol abuse and doing fucking speedballs everyday. yuck.) and working with Phil Lesh a few years ago apparently changed his life--musically and otherwise. In interviews, nowadays, he comes across as a manic, passionate, eccentric total musichead nerd. I love it. And he calls his older (drugged and drunken) self an "asshole" and "prick" and says he used to be "full of shit." So, I guess I was right...

**I just read this: (from Rolling Stone)

Not only is Adams a huge fan of the R&B singer, he named an album after a Mariah Carey cut. "My manager called and said, 'You have 15 seconds to name this record,'" he says. "My eyes focused on this poster of Mariah wearing a T-shirt that said HEARTBREAKER. I just shouted, 'Heartbreaker!' Daydream is one of my most played records. People need to reinvestigate Glitter. I'm settled enough in my masculinity to say I don't see anything wrong with Glitter."

Randomania

2009-01-27T15:18:00.001-08:00

*This morning I flipped on the Current (it was before 6:30 am, I know this) and I was dog tired. My spirits were immediately lifted with the sound of the Faces doing a (live?) version of "Maggie May" I had never heard before. It was awesome. THEN Seel busts out the most riff-laden, rocker Ryan Adams tune of late, "Magick."

*I still feel a giddy burst of joy when I hear ANYboday say the words PRESIDENT Barack Obama.

*Shuffle brought me some Chris Isaak today and listening to him always makes me think of the following things:

-moderate, fake, guilt-pleasure in even liking him.

-thoughts of Twin Peaks (he was in "Fire Walk With Me" and Audrey. Rarrrrr.

-the video for "Wicked Game" which was easily the most erotic thing I had ever seen at a very young age. (So, in turn, hearing that song makes me think of a nekked Helena Christensen

-I used to think he was kinda sleazy and not very good lookin', now, in my older age, I think he's kinda UglySexy.

-and he will always, unavoidably, every time, make me miss and love Roy Orbison.

*Have you heard of Glasvegas? I hadn't until recently. I heard comparisons and refs to Bruce Springsteen, the Jesus and Mary Chain and Phil Spector, so I had to check 'em out. I am still really undecided on them. My shuffle helped me today. I heard "Daddy's Gone" and then "Richard" by Billy Bragg, and it made more sense to me. Gawd, I wanna be a DJ.

The Wrestler - haunted

2009-01-26T10:08:00.000-08:00

I saw "The Wrestler" last night with my dad, and thoughts of it will not leave me alone. It was one of the best movies I have seen in a long while and Micky Rourke's personal, NATURAL performance was one of a kind.

If you've seen Rourke recently, you know what I mean when I say this: It might take you a while to get past his face. It did for me. I realized, hours after the movie, that he reminded me of the Cowardly Lion from the "Wizard of Oz." It's the hair, the movement, the mouth, the eyes...the skin tone...it's trippy.

The movie was made for practically nothing (Rourke literally worked for no pay) and the bumpy camera work can be, at times, distracting. The bloody realism is so striking--it had me covering my eyes when it got particularly brutal. But what I was continually amazed by was the naturalism of Rourke's portrayal of Randy "The Ram" Robinson. He *was* him. I just saw an interview with Rourke and he said that it was a hard role to play for many reasons (the training and gaining weight wasn't a picnic) but that the main reason was that it was so "close to home."

You know the story, right? In the '80s, Rourke was a hot (see above), young, brash up and coming actor's actor. Major gravitas, man. His life kinda got out of control (drugs, general recklessness, I think) and his career was all but dead. He gave up acting and started boxing professionally (!). He was *made* to play The Ram, a famous wrestler from the '80s. Right away we see that Randy, once a great wrestler and full-on celeb is now living in a trailer and has no one in his life. (Apparently Rourke himself got almost, if not exactly, as down-and-out as Randy.)

There's this scene between him and Marisa Tomei (playing an "aging" stripper named Cassidy) at a bar and the jukebox is blasting some godforsaken hair metal. They love that shit. They
make this adorable, realistic, Sopranos-esque love connection about how much the '80s ruled and the '90s sucked. Randy has this gross (but slightly funny) line about how "that pussy Kurt Cobain had to come along and ruin everything." Cassidy agrees heartily and spits, "like there's something wrong about wanting to have a good time!" I loved how just that one exchange say so much about them and their chosen careers--just not wanting to let the good times die, baby.

He fucks up a lot of shit in his life. It's hard to watch. But he makes fans (of this level of minor league wrestling anyway) happy and it's what he lives for. I won't go into the plot any more--I hate when people do that. I will tell you that his work in "The Wrestler" is explosive, haunting, touching, disturbing and awe inspiring. It's kinda like it's not really a movie…it's that good.

Please see this movie.

this morning

2009-01-21T05:14:00.000-08:00

sure feels better than yesterday morning, huh?

What with the whole PRESIDENT Barack Obama thing...

((sigh)) yeah, it feels really, really good.

Yesterday, at 11:02 am, was one of the most amazing moments of my life. Pretty wonderful to share that feeling with so many millions of people 'round the world, man. First time I have ever felt *that* connected with the planet at large.

All day I was elated, but I don't think it fully hit me til the evening. It was Beyonce singing (beautifully, powerfully) "At Last" with tears in her eyes, as she watched Barack and Michelle dance that famous first dance that had it all sink in for me...and this:

Hello 2009!

2009-01-15T19:50:00.001-08:00

I wanted to get my shit together and write about 2008--do a couple lists, perhaps...but I never got my shit together in blog-form.

Influenced by Festivus, and the airing of grievances, I would like to shed 2008 (and not list it up) and look forward. So, these are the things I am looking forward to, on the pop culture horizon:

*The Inauguration!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and the music and celebration to accompany it, of course.

* LOST starting next week. Yes, I have become a devotee. It is intense, my new found love for the show. I was very hesitant to even get involved (cuz I was warned of the addiction risk: oh, and it is very, very real), but I was sucked in. I can safely say I have never seen such richly developed characters on tv. Ever. Oh, and the plot insanity is one-of-a-kind, too. It is a fucking long-ass MOVIE, really. It's really not very tv, at all... (it's not HBO, though, either. heh.)

*oh, and this might be the key to unlock the mysteries of the island and make you laugh thinking about this guy waxing his chest. hoo-ah!

*Michael Franti and Spearhead at the State in February!! Joyful, positive, political and passionate lust for life kinda dance party, baby. He is the closest thing to Strummer we have right now... word.

*Idol. (when auditions are over, that is) And the potluck fun that we enjoy with our friends. Such great cooks, my friends. sigh. Oh, and the auditions have had some hope and joy, which is awesome. So far, I like this guy...a lot. (his name's Asa, he has a precious young daughter and he's a marching band director. I shit you not.)

*Top Chef! More tv, I know, I know...what have I become? I fucking LOVE this show. It makes me appreciate food and cooking in a way I didn't know I could. Sometimes it gets snarky and highbrow, but really, I just love everything about it: Padma, the creative challenges that never cease to impress me, the fact that this season is in NYC, the rich and diverse personalities that only chefs can deliver and Padma...can you believe she was *married* to Salman Rushdie!? Kinda mind-blowing, huh?

*Story of the Sea's record release show at the end of the month. Yeeeeeeah!

* Ice skating, sledding and snow-storm exploring to beat the cold-as-a-muthfucka-winter bullshit blues!

***And, I need to give a shout out appreciation to the Current and it's new morning MUSIC programming. It starts my day out oh-so-right. I love hearing the gentle voice of Steve Seel to ease me into the morning. He's nerdy and funny and most importantly, he doesn't talk too much. I don't always love what he loves, but that's just fine. When I get to hear Beck, Sharon Jones and the Verve on a single, cold, shitty early morning-- it makes the medicine go down in the most delightful way.

and the veep

2008-12-30T10:30:00.001-08:00

"I don't have any idea."-- Dick Cheney, on why he has such low approval ratings

says it all

2008-12-16T12:11:00.001-08:00

I truly believe this sums up W's presidency.

"So what?"
-- George W. Bush, after conceding that the U.S. invasion brought al-Qaeda to Iraq

MPLS don't sing along the way they do at Glasto...

2008-12-11T14:29:00.000-08:00

"It's not about you. It's not about me. It's not about Oasis--it's about the music... It's about the songs." That was from the infamous "Wibbling Rivalry" NME interview from over 10 years ago, and Noel's philosophy seems to still hold.

Last night the band came to the Target Center, the first time they've played here since 2001. Those songs are now more important to me and my life than they ever were before--then they were the three times I went along with my dad before last night. He was the big fan--I just wanted to see what Liam would do, for spectacle's sake, really.

So last night's show was really something special. Not that they're a great live band or anything like that. They really aren't exactly *passionate* musicians. But, Liam still seems like an angry, drunken man and Noel is cool and calm and stationary while he churns out incendiary guitar riffs and solos *meant* to reach thousands of people in a field. SO, a meager showing on a cold December night in Minneapolis maybe made them a bit more cranky than usual…Noel really did utter some mean, funny things about us living here in the frozen tundra. Like, "You are aware there's a place called California, right?" Fuck off, man. When you were seeing bands at little joints in Manchester, what would you have thought of a pompous rocker like yerself? Eh, mate? Ha. I love that fucker. Writes a mean rock song and says what he thinks. Just like a rocker should. Right on, man.

What still gets me, what I still can't really believe, is how the bros interact--er--I mean, *don't* interact AT ALL on stage. It's like the other one isn’t even there. They never acknowledge each other and they never even look at each other. But they are *right there* for each other when it comes to making the songs sound good. Noel fills in vocal gaps for Liam when he can't sustain a note (which is often) and Liam gives each song he sings that stamp of arrogance, angst and punk rock battiness that Noel still loves his band to have. For me, the greatest moments came when Noel sang lead on his own stellar songs. I love that man's voice and he couldn’t be more insecure about it. He thinks it's weak or some such shit. My comrades who joined me last night (Alicia, sugar doll, she is, Fitzy and my dad) also seemed to think that Noel was the one that stole the show, too, even though it's Liam out front and center, surrounded by his four (!?) monitors lifting his neck and sneering into the microphone, like a posturing teenager. Noel has the sweetest, most naturally melodic voice of rock, for me.

When he launched into "The Importance of Being Idle," I was transported to all the times I played that song when it rained, or when I was taking a walk, or meditating on life. For some reason, it took me by surprise, and it kept happening with all of the songs he sang lead on. That's when I realized that last night was the first time I saw Oasis and it *really* meant something to me. It affected me like my truly favorite music does. I think the Stone Roses made me understand Oasis in a new way. As resiststant as I used to be to likeing these pompus, Beatles-obsesses, stealers of riffs, lads from Manchester--I gotta admit the truth: they are one of my faves. Without them, there might not be any Arctic Monkeys, after all….

still struggling to find better and more words....but here's a beginning...

2008-11-14T22:49:00.000-08:00

I have been in a perpetual state of amazement and happiness in the past week and half. Sure, part of it is being in love, but the most obvious (and shared) feeling of euphoria has come after learning that Barack Obama is our next *president*.

I now can completely identify with Michelle Obama's remarks when she said, "For the first time in my adult life I am *REALLY* proud of my country." Fucking a right. We did it. It happened. The world is a different place--that cannot be emphasized enough.

This is what we need, people. Realistic hope in a new beginning with a new leader who is a *smart*, skilled communicator. Those are actually the two most exciting things for me.

It has been WAY too long--I haven't written in a long while. It feels so damn good. We were on this extremely .... demanding (?) schedule before and after the election. Events surrounding and involving the historical election.

Most notably....BOB DYLAN at Northrop! To hear the old man play "Blowin' In the Wind" -- after just learning (with a room full of excited liberals, Dylanolgists, hippies, smartie-pants, students, et. al.) that Barack Obama was, indeed, our new prez was a level of overwhelming joy and amazement that is extremely hard to put into words. Maybe that's why I had been so shy to write about it. The heaviness (nothing to do with gravity, Marty, but the future is now) of the moment just caused me to sob with tears of joy. It was such a relief. Such a sense of *our* moment--anyone that wants positivity and peace to overcome negativity and war. Anyone that wants to try to strive to be better -- a "more perfect union" -- a more tolerant, progressive America.

It was for all of us. We're unstoppable, now. If that was possible...anything really is.

"I want Bob Dylan to tell me that Barack Obama is our next president"

2008-11-04T12:16:00.000-08:00

Well, that's unlikely...cuz Bob doesn't like to talk too much... But I couldn't be more ecstatic to be able to see him to night at *OUR* alma mater. How fucking radical is that!?

VOTE...it'll make you feel SO GOOD!

2008-11-03T14:01:00.000-08:00

it's about time

2008-10-29T12:43:00.000-07:00

This made me smile today. Just wish we could get 'em here. A great antidote to the garish anti-choice billboards and the asinine "messages from god" adverts we have to deal with here in the States.

London buses may advertise 'there's probably no God'

LONDON (AFP) — London's iconic red buses could be plastered with the slogan "There's probably no God. Now stop worrying and enjoy your life," in an atheist advertising campaign responding to a set of Christian ads.

Comedy writer Ariane Sherine, 28, objected to the Christian adverts on some London buses, which carried an Internet address warning that people who rejected God were condemned to spend eternity in "torment in hell".

She sought five-pound (7.80-dollar, 6.25-euro) donations towards a "reassuring" counter-advertisement -- and received the backing of the British Humanist Association (BHA) and atheist campaigner Professor Richard Dawkins.

The campaign has already smashed its 5,500-pound target and the slogan is planned to hit the side of several London buses in January.

"We see so many posters advertising salvation through Jesus or threatening us with eternal damnation, that I feel sure that a bus advert like this will be welcomed as a breath of fresh air," said BHA chief executive Hanne Stinson.

Dawkins said: "This campaign to put alternative slogans on London buses will make people think -- and thinking is anathema to religion."

A Church of England spokesman said: "We would defend the right of any group representing a religious or philosophical position to be able to promote that view through appropriate channels.
"However, Christian belief is not about worrying or not enjoying life.

"Quite the opposite -- our faith liberates us to put this life into a proper perspective."

A spokesman for Transport for London told AFP they had not received such an advertisement application and would wait to view it before deciding whether it met their advertising guidelines.
"No advertisement of this kind has been submitted to TfL at this time," he said.

"If approved, then it will appear on our network."

1994 revistited

2008-10-16T14:55:00.000-07:00

"I jump when you circle the cherry/I sing like a good canary/I come when called/I come, that's all."
~ "Canary," by Liz Phair, from the album Exile in Guyville.

Those words--especially those (defiant, sassy) last two have been ringing in my head ever since Saturday, the 4th. It won't let me escape. I keep seeing it and hearing it--how Liz Phair made me feel all inspired and nostalgic for my youth (but also totally accepting of the present and the future...whew.)

I am now 27 years old, about the same age Liz was when she released Exile. I realized that as I was tripping on remembering my 13-year-old self listening to this... I was dismissive the first time I heard Liz Phair. My friend Anna played her for me. It was her brother's CD--he went to fucking Harvard. (I think I had a prejudice against "College Rock," even though I was simultaneously getting into Beck at the time.) But I digress. I read Spin and Rolling Stone, so I knew who she was, but had never heard her. SO, Anna plays this record I had read all this buzz and I was...so underwhelmed. Her voice was...bad. It was ... boring. Then, Anna skipped to track number 14 and played me "Flower." It talked about a crush (I could relate, was in 7th grade, man) and it talked about blow jobs and fucking (on that, I couldn't relate--I could only imagine).

I was floored. I borrowed Exile. I couldn't get over the cover and the photos on the sleeve. I mean, you could see her nipple on the cover! It was very, very exciting for me--it was so different from all the rock I'd been listening to my whole life--all that...guy rock. (I still love it, though, and still feel like a 14-year-old guy sometimes.)

At 13, those super brave, smart and funny lyrics made a major impact on what I thought was possible in life (and sex and love and career, even). It did what no one thing or person could do: Liz Phair was living it and singing about it and I just ate it up. It made me want to be even stronger and less apologetic about being smart, tough and different. It made me realize that you can be sexy and intensely verbal about it. I loved that no one else we went to school with knew about it. It was a secret. I could listen to it and relate it to my own life and it could be totally mine, and mine alone. You weren't gonna hear Liz Phair singing about coming and fucking on KDWB, dude. (Well, at least not in 1994. heh.)

I was just reading in Vanity Fair an except from a book by Tony Curtis (which is lol-hilarious, in a really cool, throw-back way). The bit is about Curtis and his brief affair with Marilyn Monroe, way back in 1948 (!) when MM was looking to snag a contract. He describes her when he first met her: she was a redhead then, and she spoke in a perfectly "normal" voice. That is, this was pre-affectation MM. That comment made me think of Phair's voice and why it resonates with me so deeply. Her authenticity.

When I got into Exile, I realized what made her voice so great, and that was its lack of pretense and its utter accessibility. She is the one and only voice I have ever heard that I can *fully relate to.* That is, I can comfortably sing along with every word and it's totally in my range. It fits me. It's deep and smooth and a bit wry. Her words are ones that I use, or wish I could come up with, anyway... It's a bit of that "everyman/woman" thing that Paul Westerberg always had (has) going for him...And, I know he's got Phair issues, but I still can't help place Ike Reilly and Liz together in that same lyrical arena. Both write those witty verbose narratives and have a great, playful way with tired old phrases and cliches. Phair, too, laces her observations and opinions with humor and irreverence. She always sounded like someone who was at the party, flirting, getting what she set out for, but also remaining fully cognizant--making mental notes about the ridiculous social behavior she witnessed and participated in, too.

Later, when I discovered bootlegs and acquired the Holy Grail (the original Girly Sound recordings that she taped in her bedroom in her parents' Chicago home) I heard even more raw, basic versions of the songs knew and loved and I discovered great ones that never got released. One of those songs is a fast little ditty called "Can't Get Out of What I'm Into." Oh yeah. There's a great, tough song called "Beg Me," where she asks (commands?) her lover to "make like a woman and beg me," and the last punch of a line, "I don't see what difference it makes/if I'm a man or a woman," says it so simply, but it's what the whole damn Madonna (that is, being in control of your own life, music, destiny and sexuality) thing is all about. On those recordings, she subtly (through raunch and sass, of course) points out the hypocrisies and silly expectations we all have regarding gender and sex. She comes off a little angry about the bullshit, a little bemused, and very sure of herself. It's all that, and it's fucking *catchy* and even downright, fucking funny. And the sad realization I had at the show the other night, was --I can't think of ANY other female artists who have made that kind of impact (the keeping the sex and losing the sexism kind) on culture or...me, for that matter...since Liz Phair. Thank gawd she's still going.

I feel so lucky she came here! Check the Exile revisited mini-tour:
8/27 in Philadelphia at the Theater of the Living Arts
8/28 in Washington, DC at the 9:30 Club
8/29 in Boston at The Paradise
8/30 in Boston at The Paradise
10/4 in Minneapolis at First Ave
10/5 in LA at Troubadour
10/7 in Seattle at Showbox

Damn, it was sweet to hear each and every one of those important songs. The first ALBUM as a whole I was ever head-over-heels in love with. Phair looked like she was loving it too. She was so smiley and affable and confident and sexy and crowd-loving. In her own way, she makes us all feel like we've known her for years.

pop and politics

2008-09-04T13:31:00.000-07:00

...has been my life for the past week, or year, or two, or...four?

But it has never been as overwhelming or intense or amazing as it has been this past week (well, Vote For Change stands ALONE...so, yeah).

This summer has been so full, and I haven't taken the time to write and that's a goddamn shame, really. I wish I would've documented more of it.

The past two weeks have been especially intense. Of course it kicked off with the one thing I look forward to more than ANYTHING else...the State Fair. Damn, it was good. I think I went 4 times, total. We saw Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings, and Trampled by Turtles at the Leinie's Bandshell (for muthfunkin' FREE, baby). And, I have to tell you...Sharon Jones put on one the best fucking SHOWS I have ever seen in my 26 years of seeing shows.

She has it all and she does it all. Rock-em, sock-em music by the Dap-Kings fueling her powerful, soulful, bee-u-ti-full voice, she COMMANDS that stage like the former prison guard she is. And the groove is so good, and she's so in it, she shakes it and dances up a storm, getting white hipster kids (Hairspray came to mind more than once, as it did at First Ave, the last time I saw her). I was so lifted by her sass and her shakin' ass, I couldn't stop moving (despite the fact that we were stuck in the middle of some very stiff, unmoving, Midwestern-types. humph.)

My dad joined us for Trampled by Turtles' show, and he tripped out on the old-school homage of it all and was impressed by the energy they churned out. They pumped it out so hard that Dave Simonett actually said his wrist was getting a bit sore. I had never heard him utter such a thing! Despite the fact that they ALWAYS grind down hard on those stringed instruments with fierce intensity. Hey, man. This was the Fucking State Fair. They gave it their all.

Speaking of giving it yer all....I've been giving it my all to counter the Republican invasion into our fair, Blue state. Fitzy and I have been involved as much as possible (I even took a day of work off, fer chrissakes. hehe.)Check out Fitzy's fantastic pics from the march here.

Marching from the Capitol, joining peaceful protesters--including babies, grandmas, veterans, and....hockey moms was one of the most surreal and fascinating acts I've ever participated in. The menacing and intimidating police/National Guard presence was downright scary in some ways. I had never seen anything like it in my life. I smiled at each face I could see (most were sporting that chic Darth Vader look, so you really couldn't connect.) Fitzy and I flashed the peace sign as we marched by, and not a single incident of violence or upset occurred on our path. Of course, we heard and read what everyone else saw...and it's a fucking shame that those thousands who were peaceful were not as represented as those few who were agitators.

The Take Back Labor Day show was dynamite, the highlight for me was Atmosphere who played exactly the right tone. Slug and his mighty and verbose flow of words put a smile on my face and washed away the tension I had been carrying in my neck and shoulders after we had been walking the streets of St Paul for nearly four hours.

The Ripple Effect, on the second of September was a joyful celebration of resistance against the RNC as well. Matisyahu set a peaceful tone at the beginning of the day, only to be shaken up by Dead Prez who felt the need to call MN "the sticks" and prodded the crowd to chant "riot." Not a very fucking smart idea, considering the area was surrounded by police in riot gear and dozens of cops-on-bikes.

I witnessed some hippie-punks get hassled by some boys in blue. They were smoking...sitting by a tree and I saw two cops approach one young man with a back pack on. They calmly exchanged words. But then I saw the cop forcefully take the bag off of his back. He put rubber gloves on and proceeded to search his bag. All the while, a crowd gathered around the action and they were chanting "NO CONSENT! NO CONSENT!" The cops did the smart thing and just bolted. Peace resumed....We left after Michael Frant's wonderful, positive, inspirational set of music. After we left, Tom Morello and his gang of bandmates came, intending on taking the stage, only to be told by the cops that they were too late and their permit had expired at 7. Thing was, it wasn't 7 yet.

Read about what happened here.

I was lucky to hear the story from the mouth of Tom Morello, as he accompanied his old schoolmate, Ike Reilly, to the Happening that was going down at the Parkway Theater on Chicago Ave. It was "Wake Up World," a Lizz Winstead creation that gave us that much-needed comic relief we all needed to wash away the RNC Blues. Billy Bragg gave a powerful, funny and touching performance, with just his guitar and amp, his words and his full, captivating voice (like always). Following that we got to Hoot it up with Jim Walsh, Ike, Morello, Eliza Blue and Jennifer Markey.

Again, it was powerful, profound and just the antidote we were all so thirsty for. Highlights for me: Braggy's "Street Fighting Man," Morello's flawless, blood & fist pumpin (acoustic!) "Guerilla Radio",Ike's "Put a Little Love in It." Markey is fantastic balladeer, in the spirit of Lucinda Williams, she crafts ditties that tell tales of burning down Minneapolis, shooting down lovers who have done her wrong, and she does it all with a sense of humor and lightness to counter the macabre. Blue added her strong voice and beautiful banjo and fiddle to the mix, softening even the most testosterone-fuled offerings from Walsh, Reilly, Bragg and Morello.

I am proud of these Twin Cities, what they've endured and what they brought to the table as a counter-offer to the shitstorm of the RNC.

I <3>

been a long time....it's been THREE YEARS

2008-07-22T11:37:00.001-07:00

On July 27th, I will have been writing on ("on"? is that right?) this blog for 3 years.

Holy hell.

I wish I had been more diligent about writing more--and I promise to, as I enter my fourth year of being a resident in the self-indulgent world of bloggage.

It's been a while since I've written at all. But, it's been a rockin-good summer so far, and that's always the way it should be.

things to write about...(someday!?)

*Wall-E and The Dark Knight (the best movies I've seen in a while)

*Our amazing trip to Rothbury, MI (felt like Glasto, a few times...)

*P-Funk at 10K. Hasn't happened yet. Will be groovin' and shakin' it hardcore on Thursday night. Mmm-hmm.

can't

hardly

wait.

***

his wishes

2008-07-01T10:25:00.001-07:00

(click to enlarge)

Fucking fascinating (or, yep, that's right, repeat after me: Obama embraced Christianity as a young man, and is still holding on strong)

2008-06-27T14:07:00.000-07:00

June 27, 2008
Op-Ed Contributor

Your Brain Lies to You

By SAM WANG and SANDRA AAMODT
FALSE beliefs are everywhere. Eighteen percent of Americans think the sun revolves around the earth, one poll has found. Thus it seems slightly less egregious that, according to another poll, 10 percent of us think that Senator Barack Obama, a Christian, is instead a Muslim. The Obama campaign has created a Web site to dispel misinformation. But this effort may be more difficult than it seems, thanks to the quirky way in which our brains store memories — and mislead us along the way.

The brain does not simply gather and stockpile information as a computer’s hard drive does. Facts are stored first in the hippocampus, a structure deep in the brain about the size and shape of a fat man’s curled pinkie finger. But the information does not rest there. Every time we recall it, our brain writes it down again, and during this re-storage, it is also reprocessed. In time, the fact is gradually transferred to the cerebral cortex and is separated from the context in which it was originally learned. For example, you know that the capital of California is Sacramento, but you probably don’t remember how you learned it.

This phenomenon, known as source amnesia, can also lead people to forget whether a statement is true. Even when a lie is presented with a disclaimer, people often later remember it as true.
With time, this misremembering only gets worse. A false statement from a noncredible source that is at first not believed can gain credibility during the months it takes to reprocess memories from short-term hippocampal storage to longer-term cortical storage. As the source is forgotten, the message and its implications gain strength. This could explain why, during the 2004 presidential campaign, it took some weeks for the Swift Boat Veterans for Truth campaign against Senator John Kerry to have an effect on his standing in the polls.

Even if they do not understand the neuroscience behind source amnesia, campaign strategists can exploit it to spread misinformation. They know that if their message is initially memorable, its impression will persist long after it is debunked. In repeating a falsehood, someone may back it up with an opening line like “I think I read somewhere” or even with a reference to a specific source.

In one study, a group of Stanford students was exposed repeatedly to an unsubstantiated claim taken from a Web site that Coca-Cola is an effective paint thinner. Students who read the statement five times were nearly one-third more likely than those who read it only twice to attribute it to Consumer Reports (rather than The National Enquirer, their other choice), giving it a gloss of credibility.

Adding to this innate tendency to mold information we recall is the way our brains fit facts into established mental frameworks. We tend to remember news that accords with our worldview, and discount statements that contradict it.

In another Stanford study, 48 students, half of whom said they favored capital punishment and half of whom said they opposed it, were presented with two pieces of evidence, one supporting and one contradicting the claim that capital punishment deters crime. Both groups were more convinced by the evidence that supported their initial position.

Psychologists have suggested that legends propagate by striking an emotional chord. In the same way, ideas can spread by emotional selection, rather than by their factual merits, encouraging the persistence of falsehoods about Coke — or about a presidential candidate.
Journalists and campaign workers may think they are acting to counter misinformation by pointing out that it is not true. But by repeating a false rumor, they may inadvertently make it stronger. In its concerted effort to “stop the smears,” the Obama campaign may want to keep this in mind. Rather than emphasize that Mr. Obama is not a Muslim, for instance, it may be more effective to stress that he embraced Christianity as a young man.

Consumers of news, for their part, are prone to selectively accept and remember statements that reinforce beliefs they already hold. In a replication of the study of students’ impressions of evidence about the death penalty, researchers found that even when subjects were given a specific instruction to be objective, they were still inclined to reject evidence that disagreed with their beliefs.

In the same study, however, when subjects were asked to imagine their reaction if the evidence had pointed to the opposite conclusion, they were more open-minded to information that contradicted their beliefs. Apparently, it pays for consumers of controversial news to take a moment and consider that the opposite interpretation may be true.

In 1919, Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes of the Supreme Court wrote that “the best test of truth is the power of the thought to get itself accepted in the competition of the market.” Holmes erroneously assumed that ideas are more likely to spread if they are honest. Our brains do not naturally obey this admirable dictum, but by better understanding the mechanisms of memory perhaps we can move closer to Holmes’s ideal.

Sam Wang, an associate professor of molecular biology and neuroscience at Princeton, and Sandra Aamodt, a former editor in chief of Nature Neuroscience, are the authors of “Welcome to Your Brain: Why You Lose Your Car Keys but Never Forget How to Drive and Other Puzzles of Everyday Life.”

Jerry's tribute in the Times

2008-06-24T12:32:00.000-07:00

From the New York Times today........

June 24, 2008
Op-Ed Contributor
Dying Is Hard. Comedy Is Harder.

By JERRY SEINFELD
THE honest truth is, for a comedian, even death is just a premise to make jokes about. I know this because I was on the phone with George Carlin nine days ago and we were making some death jokes. We were talking about Tim Russert and Bo Diddley and George said: “I feel safe for a while. There will probably be a break before they come after the next one. I always like to fly on an airline right after they’ve had a crash. It improves your odds.”

I called him to compliment him on his most recent special on HBO. Seventy years old and he cranks out another hour of great new stuff. He was in a hotel room in Las Vegas getting ready for his show. He was a monster.

You could certainly say that George downright invented modern American stand-up comedy in many ways. Every comedian does a little George. I couldn’t even count the number of times I’ve been standing around with some comedians and someone talks about some idea for a joke and another comedian would say, “Carlin does it.” I’ve heard it my whole career: “Carlin does it,” “Carlin already did it,” “Carlin did it eight years ago.”

And he didn’t just “do” it. He worked over an idea like a diamond cutter with facets and angles and refractions of light. He made you sorry you ever thought you wanted to be a comedian. He was like a train hobo with a chicken bone. When he was done there was nothing left for anybody.

But his brilliance fathered dozens of great comedians. I personally never cared about “Seven Words You Can Never Say on Television,” or “FM & AM.” To me, everything he did just had this gleaming wonderful precision and originality.

I became obsessed with him in the ’60s. As a kid it seemed like the whole world was funny because of George Carlin. His performing voice, even laced with profanity, always sounded as if he were trying to amuse a child. It was like the naughtiest, most fun grown-up you ever met was reading you a bedtime story.

I know George didn’t believe in heaven or hell. Like death, they were just more comedy premises. And it just makes me even sadder to think that when I reach my own end, whatever tumbling cataclysmic vortex of existence I’m spinning through, in that moment I will still have to think, “Carlin already did it.”

Jerry Seinfeld is a writer and a comedian.

too fucked up for words

2008-06-23T05:44:00.000-07:00

1937-2008

I am gonna miss you like crazy. You were and ALWAYS will be one of the biggest influences on my life, my brain and my use of the English language.

I fucking love you, you wonderful Irish fucker.

My first exposure (beyond the early t.v. clips I saw as a child--and didn't "get"...yet) to Carlin’s wit was through my high school sociology teacher. How fitting. He was one of the coolest teachers I ever had (obviously) and he actually read passages of Carlin’s book, “Brain Droppings” aloud in class. How fucking cool is that? After that, it was all over for me. I was addicted. I bought and obsessively listened to “You Are All Diseased,” and made my friends listen to it my freshman year of college.

It was his rants on religion ("The biggest bullshit story of all time.") were, of course, the words I treasured most. Articulate, funny-as-fuck-all, and TRUE. There was nothing like it, I had never heard all my (non)beliefs uttered so elequantly...and to a responsive--no, make that ERUPTIVE audience to boot! could it be? others also thought religion was a laughable, destructive crock of shit?

It was downright enlightening.

I was lucky enough to have seen him with my dad my freshman year, in 1999 and just a couple years ago with my man Fitzy.

Some good quotes from the obits today:

Sums it up well: “It’s his lifelong affection for language and passion for truth that continue to fuel his performances,” a critic observed of the
comedian when he was in his mid-60s.

And

Although some criticized parts of his later work as too contentious, Mr. Carlin defended the
material, insisting that his comedy had always been driven by an intolerance for the shortcomings of humanity and society. “Scratch any cynic,” he said, “and you’ll find a disappointed idealist.”

Still, when pushed to explain the
pessimism and overt spleen that had crept into his act, he quickly reaffirmed the zeal that inspired his lists of complaints and grievances. “I don’t have pet
peeves,” he said, correcting the interviewer. And with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he added, “I have major, psychotic hatreds.”

And, most potent:
"The whole problem with this idea of obscenity and indecency, and all of these things — bad language and whatever — it's all caused by one basic thing, and that is: religious superstition," Carlin told the AP in a 2004 interview. "There's an idea that the human body is somehow evil and bad and there are parts of it that are especially evil and bad, and we should be ashamed. Fear, guilt and shame are built into the attitude toward sex and the body. ... It's reflected in these prohibitions and these taboos that we have."

Tim Russert, dead at 58

2008-06-13T14:11:00.000-07:00

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/25145431/

I am in shock. This is definitely one of the most affected I've felt by a well-known person's death in a LONG while....

I can't fathom who would be next in line to do Meet The Press. It seems sacrilegious that anyone else would actually do the job. Unfathomable.

Who else is as brilliant, enthusiastic, well-spoken, hard-hitting and *objective* as the man who grilled the likes of Cheney, Clinton, Bush and Rice (just to name a few)??

Just last week, after Obama grabbed the nom, I teared up (with joy) watching Russert talk about the wonderful, historic moment that *we* had witnessed at the Xcel Center the night before. I said to James, "Is there anyone more appreciatively excited than Tim Russert?" About Obama's achievement, but also about the election, period.

R.I.P., Tim, you wonderful Irish Catholic man that I admired so. Your passion is unmatched and you will be sorely missed by the world of (REAL) journalism.

yes, we did.

2008-06-05T12:42:00.000-07:00

Obama at Xcel:

check out James's words (and photos!) first......

heeeey, Bo Diddley

2008-06-02T12:28:00.000-07:00

R.I.P.

May of '08 Mix Made for Me

2008-05-22T21:12:00.000-07:00

behold,

1. Love Child >> The Supremes
2. Sweet Child O' Mine >> Guns N' Roses
3. Breakaway >> Kelly Clarkson
4. Higher And Higher >> Jackie Wilson
5. Higher Love >> Steve Winwood
6. If You Tolerate This Your Children Will Be Next>> Manic Street Preachers
7. Let's Dance >> David Bowie
8. Bastards Of Young >> The Replacements
9. When You're Young >> The Jam
10. Billie Jean >> Michael Jackson
11. Heartbeat >> Madonna

Fun with iPod word search? Yes. Guilty. But! I also had a plan, a vison, even... I got treated to Love Child followed by G'n'R's Sweet Child (on shuffle) and thought I needed to make a mix that kicked it off just like that. That idea, of course had me thinking about youth. And my youth was filled with Madonna and Michael Jackson. Well, Madonna has been in my ears hypertime, so I put one of my most played, and most enjoyed songs of late on there.

And, well, Breakaway comes from it still gnawing at my brain since re-watching S.F.U...The Jam song makes me think of E Beth and gets me excited that she's moving BACK TO MPLS, muthfucka! And the High and the Higher are songs that I have loved and have been (actively, I swear) in my head since I was 8 years old.

I am digging Spring, my new bike (circa 1968, actually...give it up for RIOTS at the Convention-style!!!) and my seasonal music shift. Life is bright.

Dig it!

to all you haters,

2008-05-22T11:22:00.001-07:00

I completely, whole-heartedly, know why you hate American Idol. I really questioned my choice to watch it this year, too.

But, since my friends got a get-together a'goin' (with MEALS!) it makes it more fun to sit through the shit.

And now, IT'S OVER!

and although I couldn't give a rat's ass about which fucking David won (they are both LAME) last night's finale actually threw me a bone. A smokin' hot, sexy, powerful TALENTED piece of musical MEAT, really...

My two faves from this season, doin' a *classic* that I've always loved (the Alex Chilton version and the Joe Cocker version, which they do the latter of.) Missed them. They shoulda been in the final two. Watch the Hot Aussie, Michael Johns and the Sexy Irish, Carly Smithson sing blue-eyed soul with actual *passion* (totally lacking in the season after they left--WAY too early!)

this makes me feel better about EVERYTHING

2008-05-15T12:33:00.000-07:00

The Rising!!!!!!!!

who wants to go with me!?

2008-05-08T10:09:00.000-07:00

Madge.

Chicago.

October 26th--it's a Sunday, Funday....

Beautiful fall weather road trippin'!

Wow. To be excited about October is a trippy feeling.

Hard Candy hits my ears! And I LOVE it.

2008-05-01T08:47:00.001-07:00

New record is in my hot lil' hands! This time it’s really an album, too. With breaks in between totally different-sounding songs!

And, I really mean it. A NEW sound is all over this thing. Which, has always been Madonna’s strongest skill: finding the hottest, most exciting, most modern sound to dance to out there and making those creators her collaborators. This time she’s “gone American” for the first time since pre-Ray of Light era. It’s more U.S.-clubby than she’s been in years. It actually took me a while to warm up to that sound (as opposed to her Anglophile ways of recent years). But, it’s Madge and she (as ALWAYS) makes it her own and makes it *quality*. They are the kind of dance tracks that take you by surprise—in a Beck/Dust Brothers sort of way, even.

Drugs and music and exercise and love and lust make you *forget about your problems* (she told us on the last album—straight up!) She brings that message home--and hard-- on this disc. To borrow from one of the best Six Feet Under philosophies—it cuts out the STATIC in your brain. Static, like the steady, ever-present *buzz* in your head—a stream of thoughts and nagging questions and anxieties that distract us every day from the moment we get up to the thought filled-moments after our head hits the pillow at night. That abandoning-worry vibe runs beautifully throughout these uplifting dance ditties. Songs of total Ambition Seminar from Madge 101, songs of mega ego, spiced with jealousy…. Sex songs are even back. Mmmm, and she still sounds hot and frisky after all these years.

Although Madge is not without (musical) sin …pretty much ever, for me…(well, the mid 90’s were a bit muddled, weren’t they??) she really has remained constant and damn strong in making music to get down to and get joyful to. She has never gone off and done sumthin’ stupid like make a record totally out of character that ya couldn't dance to. (OK, except for that ballad album crap and Evita…and Erotica—sort of.) This is just riding that road even higher. I take great comfort in that. Even though she's a bit of a dictator mogul, self-absorbed in every way, she still finds the heart and the time to get inspired and keep writing songs. Songs that don't disappoint.

She is hell-bent on getting her listeners to shake away their doldrums. From “Everybody,” her first real single—a call/cry for every-fucking-body to get up and dance and do your thang, to “Heartbeat” on the new record, a love letter to the joy of dancing. In fact, the whole of Hard Candy is a (yet another) love letter to shakin’ it. And, on my favorite track so far, “Give it 2 Me,” (yeah, Madge is now doing that Prince thing. Heh.) she calls for you to get up off of your ass and be as ambitious as the Lady Madge. Be like me, she suggests—“Give me a bass line and I’ll shake it/give me a record and I’ll break it.” it’s fucking great. Energizing and inspiring like the best music should be.

*WARNING*: there is the worst little blemish on this fantastic song, and it's a DAMN shame. A break from the song that has her chanting "get stupid, get stupid" in that really, really lame Gwen Stefani-way. I like Gwen, but that annoying, sing-songy bullshit (is it supposed to be annyong on purpose??) really brings me down.

It’s stuff like this that affects me in the most mood-lifting way. It’s a formula that Oasis and Bruce both use and it’s never-failing.

I will have more to report soon....I haven't even listened to it twice all the way through yet. Damn.

How Bush got elected twice.....? I think.

2008-04-24T14:36:00.000-07:00

Fucking American Fucking Idol, man.

It really sucked watching it last night. I kinda wanna quit, cuz it's painful now. The songs are so shitty and the people left really suck.

The only two people I actually liked are gone. The hot Aussie, Michael Johns, who had a band, The Rising (!!!) that was signed to Madge's Maverick label (!!!!)is gone. He fucking rocked, and was easy on the eyes. Now, our fave Irish Lass, Carly, who loved Heart and could belt it almost as good as Ann, is gonesville and it really makes me hate the people that must vote. (that goes for this and prior presidential elections, methinks.) Oy.

(((Of all the lil' coincidences: We watched a Six Feet Under after seeing Carly get the boot, that referenced A.I. in the most on-point way possible. Brenda went ranting about her fucked up marriage problems and her co-worker asked if they could instead talk about American Idol. Brenda didn't watch--yeah, yeah, yeah, I didn't used to, either and I have LOADS of friends who wouldn't be caught dead, yada yada. But I can relate. It's all I've got sometimes--to talk about, that is. At my work, that is. And sometimes that kinda fluff beats the hell outta real life. Ya dig?)))

It was Andrew Lloyd Webber night (so awesome)and Carly did "Superstar" (see lyrics below) and I couldn't have been happier. That was prolly my favorite "old-song-discovered" in my early child hood (were talkin' 9 or 10, here.) Andrew Lloyd Webber is actually one of my all-time faves. One of the most clear, joyful musical memories of my childhood involved ritualistically listening to a cassette tape of A.L.W.'s "greatest hits"--if you can even call it that. I would walk around our apartment building (I had a very vivid imagination and would go on "adventures," discovering new nooks and crannies on each floor) with a fat (by today's iPod standards) YELLOW Sony Walkman. It was my favorite toy.

Here were the contents of that lovely "hits" package: (Thank you, Amazon! Seeing the original cover really brought me back!)

1. Phantom Of The Opera
2. Take That Look Off Your Face
3. All I Ask Of You
4. Don't Cry For Me Argentina
5. Magical Mr. Mistoffeles
6. Variations 1-4
7. Superstar
8. Memory
9. Starlight Express
10. Tell Me On A Sunday
11. The Music Of The Night
12. Another Suitcase In Another Hall
13. I Don't Know How To Love Him
14. Pie Jesu

But, "Superstar" has to take the fucking cake!

I mean, dig these fucking words:

VOICE OF JUDAS

Every time I look at you I don't understand
Why you let the things you did get so out of hand.
You'd have managed better if you'd had it planned.
Why'd you choose such a backward time in such a strange land?
If you'd come today you could have reached a whole nation.
Israel in 4 BC had no mass communication.

Don't you get me wrong
I only want to know
CHOIR
Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ, Who are you? What have you sacrificed?
Jesus Christ Superstar, Do you think you're what they say you are?

VOICE OF JUDAS

Tell me what you think about your friends at the top
Who'd you think besides yourself's the pick of the crop?
Buddha, was he where it's at? Is he where you are?
Could Mohammed move a mountain, or was that just PR?
Did you mean to die like that? Was that a mistake, or
Did you know your messy death would be a record breaker?
Don't you get me wrong. I only want to know.

CHOIR

Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ, Who are you? What have you sacrificed?
Jesus Christ Superstar, Do you think you're what they say you are?(Repeat)

I mean. Shit. The New York Times said it was too controversial for the run-of-the-mill Idol watcher (read: super religious and conservative. like a big chunk of the U.S. of A.)and *that's* why it killed her off, in the end. I mean, it must be...she was just too damn GOOD and lovable to entertain any other theory...well, maybe tatts? but, that's insane...maybe it's both. And maybe I should never try to figure out the minds of Americans. Word.

When I was a kid and was so into this song, I thought it was fucking righteous! It rocked and it was so soulful--Murray Head sings the shit out of it--soul powerhouse. It seemed like such an indictment of Jesus (well, it is sung by Judas, after all.) The best line is that "Could Mohammed move a mountain, or was that just PR?" Back at that young age, I had it in my head that "P.R." was basically "B.S." like, advertising/public relations = bullshit. Which, now at my old age is still the way I perceive it.

Also, the "Did you mean to die like that? Was that a mistake, or
Did you know your messy death would be a record breaker?" was one of the coolest things for my young ears, too. Not being raised with too much religious indoctrination, I was always (still am) fascinated and repulsed by the whole "Passion" thing--the fetishization of Jesus's death. It's some creepy, heavy shit, that's for sure.

SO, all that being said, I guess it's no wonder America couldn't handle the sassy, soulful, strong Irish Carly singing about Jey-zus. That kind of singing about him, anyway. And, that explains why I'm broken-hearted about it too--she had the chutzpah to sing it and sing it hard.

Fare thee well, Lass, you will be better off outta that Hell Hole of awful Karaoke Land. See you on the flip side.

overheard in the ladies' at the Cabooze, MPLS last night

2008-04-17T15:04:00.000-07:00

Drunk Chick (clearly not 21) #1: "I totally lost my [h]earring!!"

D.C. (C. N. 21) #2: "Ohmygawd! What does it look like!?"

D.C. (C. N. 21) #1: "No! [frustrated, drunken giggles] my HEARING! I lost my friggin' HEARING!"

D.C. (C.N. 21) #2: "I heard you! I just don't remember what they look like!"

Oy.

yes. (claro que si)

2008-04-16T12:38:00.000-07:00

from Bruce's web site......www.brucespringsteen.net

Dear Friends and Fans:
LIke most of you, I've been following the campaign and I have now seen and heard enough to know where I stand. Senator Obama, in my view, is head and shoulders above the rest.
He has the depth, the reflectiveness, and the resilience to be our next President. He speaks to the America I've envisioned in my music for the past 35 years, a generous nation with a citizenry willing to tackle nuanced and complex problems, a country that's interested in its collective destiny and in the potential of its gathered spirit. A place where "...nobody crowds you, and nobody goes it alone."
At the moment, critics have tried to diminish Senator Obama through the exaggeration of certain of his comments and relationships. While these matters are worthy of some discussion, they have been ripped out of the context and fabric of the man's life and vision, so well described in his excellent book, Dreams From My Father, often in order to distract us from discussing the real issues: war and peace, the fight for economic and racial justice, reaffirming our Constitution, and the protection and enhancement of our environment.
After the terrible damage done over the past eight years, a great American reclamation project needs to be undertaken. I believe that Senator Obama is the best candidate to lead that project and to lead us into the 21st Century with a renewed sense of moral purpose and of ourselves as Americans.
Over here on E Street, we're proud to support Obama for President.
Bruce Springsteen

facinating

2008-04-08T12:29:00.000-07:00

Surprising Political Endorsements By U.S. Troops
American Soldiers Speak Out About Their Presidential Endorsements

By MARTHA RADDATZ

April 7, 2008—
ABC's Martha Raddatz asked American soldiers in Iraq what issues are most important to them when looking at the presidential candidates.
Though the military is not supposed to engage in partisan political activity, these soldiers spoke out about their personal endorsements, and their opinions are likely to matter. In 2004, 73 percent of the U.S. military voted for a presidential candidate, and officials believe it may be even higher this time around.
PFC Jeremy Slate said he supported Sen. Barack Obama, D-Ill., because of his stated intention to pull out of Iraq right away.
"That would be nice," Slate said, "I'd like to be home, yea."
SFC Patricia Keller also expressed support for Obama, citing his representation for change.
Spc. Patrick Nicholls from Eggawam, Mass., pointed out that many soldiers on the frontlines frequently think about their families back home.
"We think about how our families are doing back home. That's a major concern, like how the economy is doing, also as well as where we're going to be in the future. Because really, truly, what we consider we're doing, we're doing a valuable job, we want to make sure that the efforts we make are appreciated."
He suggested he was too engaged in Iraq to keep up with politics back home. "I haven't really been following it too much since we've been over here, ma'am," he told Raddatz. "So, don't really know which issues are too important to me right now. ... I don't know who's running, ma'am."
Lt. Leah Wicks said that, tied into concerns about her family's welfare, were concerns about the economy, "where we're going to be in the future."
Only moments before speaking with ABC News, the troops had been listening to Vice President Dick Cheney give a rousing speech, but it didn't change their political preference.
Spc. Imus Loto said he supported Obama. "It will be something different. But he's out there and he'll probably support us a lot more."
By support, Loto meant pulling out troops. "Pull me out, too." he said.
Though the military is generally a more conservative group, soldiers like Sgt. Justin Sarbaum are just as eager for a pull-out as the Democratic candidates. Sarbaum said he wondered which presidential candidate would be able to better the U.S. relationship with rogue nations, such as Iran, so that soldiers are not sent off to another war.
"Iran is obviously a big issue," Sarbaum said, "Here in Iraq for my third time; starting another war right now is it really necessary?"
Sgt. Cory Messingham from Lewisville, Texas, said he wasn't following the race, but he was concerned about candidates' paying attention to the emotional toll that the war has taken on soldiers.
"My biggest issue is support for the military, military funding and our deployments, not having long deployments anymore. Because [the] majority of us are doing ...15-month deployments. So, it's tough on the soldiers and tough on the soldiers' families. Those are really my biggest issues."
1st Sgt. David Logan said, "I am leaning toward Hillary. I think that we should have a gradual drawdown."
Though the soldiers have been living in Iraq, they listen closely to the candidates on issues far beyond the wars they are fighting.
"Education back in the states is one of my main concerns," Spc. Matthew Durkin said.
Economy and environment were on Staff Sgt. Derek Dion's mind. "Things like gas prices, and look at the environment and what we're going to leave our children."
Spc. Joseph Lindsesdt, who is from Alaska, said he was watching for consistency of the candidates' views. "The steadiness of the candidate, whether they've changed their views, constantly, over time, or with political wind, as I like to put it."
To that end, Lindsesdt's pick is Obama. "The fact that he's followed his views, regardless of what they have been [sic] and whether I've agreed with them or not, sometimes. But he's been steady the entire way."
When asked if he was concerned about criticism that Obama had less political experience than some of the other candidates, the battle-weary soldier replied, "No, I think being a decent leader doesn't have to do anything with experience much."

JUNG HWA SONG contributed to this report.
Copyright © 2008 ABC News Internet Ventures

X welcomes us back to the States

2008-03-24T13:21:00.000-07:00

(could anything look more sexxxy and dangerous as that...? I really don't think so. one the best band names eva....)

Pretty fucking sweet to come back from Ireland and see the legendary American (Wessssiiiide) poetic punk rock-a-billy rockers that I love and admire so much. AT the goddamn Cabooze, to boot! Such a strange but wonderful place to see X. My first (!) time. Whoa. I got to see John Doe at the 400 Bar on a press pass ( I had just phone-interviewed him that day) and it was, by far, one of the coolest journalistic experiences I ever had. He was so damn down-to-earth and easy to talk to. I was positively giddy.

here's the link to that interview with him...

They sounded incredible. Exene Cervenka and John (heartthrob) Doe had that amazing chemistry, still. So one-of-a-kind, that egalitarian, totally feminist vibe. Billy Zoom, looking a helluva lot older than the rest of 'em (cuz he is), was incendiary on that rock-a-billy guitar, dipping the neck of it into the crowd and holding firm ground with a power stance to beat the band. John *still* looks like that ragamuffin, skinny and lanky puppy like he always has...big ol' grin on his face fer most of the time. Exene looked severe and modest in her long burning-witch-at-the-stake-like black dress. She sounded divine. I gained a new appreciation for her on Saturday night. I loved watching her play to he crowd of sweaty, smiling pit po-go-ers that TOTALLY looked like they crawled straight outta 1979. She got nice and close to their faces and held some of their hands. It was kinda touching, really. X really did create a totally unique kind of punk atmosphere, if ya ask me. Socially political, passionate, a lil' touchy-feely, sexual, sensual music that transcends the violent nihilistic attitude that pervades most people's idea of what punk was and can be.

I got to witness what they were all about in only the way that live music can provide. I feel fucking lucky.

John and Exene are equals up there, harmonizing that truly unique soulful, punked out wail-drone that I will always be in love with. It sounded so vibrant, so urgent--I couldn't wipe the smile off of my face. Those prose/poetry-style lyrics still sting and engage me...

When they sang "Johnny Hit and Run Pauline" I got crazy chills. That song has always made me tear up and clench my fists. Musically, it kicks it into a frenzied Chuck Berry-mode, then the story unfolds and the vocals of Exene and John are downright mournful.

Dig those haunting words:

he bought a sterilized hypo to shoot a sex machine drug
he got 24 hours to shoot all Paulines between the legs
he'll throw 96 tears thru 24 hours
sexed once every hour
Johnny hit and run Pauline (x 4)
l.a. bus doors open
kicking both doors open
when it rested on 6th street
that's when he drug a girl inside
he was spreading her legs
and didn't understand dying
she was still awake
Johnny hit and run Pauline (x 4)
when he was waking up beside the bed he found clumps of hair
the last Pauline wouldn't cooperate
she wasn't what you'd call living really
but she was still awake
Johnny hit and run Pauline (x 4)

One of the most amazing "punk" songs ever, if ya ask me. (it's that "she was still awwaaaaaake" that always gnaws at my heart) I will never forget seeing an interview with John Doe when I was a kid. He described how kids at shows ended up pumping their fists, violently, mindlessly to that disturbing chorus. He said they "don't perform that song anymore" because these kids didn't even understand that it was an anti-rape song. (Can't help but think of the Reagan exploitation of Bruce, of course....) Course, that interview was probably over 15 years old, but I was still pleasantly surprised to hear 'em do it. It is such a powerful and awesome song.

And then, this was weird...Fitzy and I are watching (well, re-watching, for me) Six Feet Under right now and we're at the episode where Lisa leaves for a trip to Santa Cruz. Nate and Maya are chillin' and Nate is bopping her around to the sounds of....bamp-bamp-bamp-bamp- BAMP...“She-he-he, had to leave...Los Angeles.” X! In SFU! Such a totally fitting song for the scene and the story, too. It's like a way, way, WAY cooler version of the whole John Travolta and baby (voiced by Bruce Willis) doing their "Walking On Sunshine" number. sigh.

"it always comes back to the music"

2008-03-11T07:45:00.000-07:00

Lady Madonna looked downright chuffed. Eyes wet, she seemed genuinely humbled and honored to be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Her speech was slightly stiff (never really found her actor/public speaking voice or flow after all these years…everything else BUT that, it seems.) But it was downright *moving." I actually thought the Stoic One might actually cry a little at a few points. One in particular was a great combo of part hurt-resurfaced, part fuck-you and part absolute gratitude: "The ones that said I was talentless, that I was chubby, that I couldn't sing, that I was a one-hit wonder. They pushed me to be better, and I am grateful for their resistance."

Justin Timberlake did a *weak* job of inducting her (gawd I was pissed when I heard he was doing it. I prayed for David Bowie--hoping the RRHF would do a Bruce U2 thing and let him induct her after she did it for him). And yeah, I know he just worked with her on her new record, and I know he's the best hot young thing out there, so they say...I just can't get into him. He just doesn't do it fer me. Ho-hum. He really did suck for the most part, with jokes that fell flat and silly sexual innuendos that seemed out of place. He had a few choice lines, though and kicked off the speech with those infamous quotes from those hater-journalists that slammed Madge in her early days. (Choice lines like, "she won't last six months" and the uber-infamous: she sounds like "Minnie Mouse on helium.") A great way to kick off an ode to a 25 year carreer. Still, I thought it was a shame not to have a goddamn woman do it at least. I mean, if you couldn't have Bowie do it, have Liz fucking Phair, or even friggin' MIA...or simply a woman (ANY woman) in rock that was touched by her existence. Cuz, face it, she shook it *all* up, and every woman that's come after her in the pop/rock/punk/dance world has Madge to thank for paving the way. All hail the muthafucking Queen.

Iggy and the Stooges (hey, there's Mike Watt!) were...fucking rad. They blasted though (my ultimate fave song of hers, "Burnin' Up" and the great "Ray Of Light," as a sweetly smiling Madge looked on. I still feel conflicted about that whole decision...kinda left wondering what her intentions were. I hope it was a fuck-you to the RRHF, cuz the Stooges were nominated, but didn't get in...Heh--Fitzy had a great (Simpsons, more...) line, "Maybe they just did it to freak out the squares," referring to the re-dick buttoned-down, industry-types that are all stiffly sitting in their chairs as Iggy writhes and licks his lips, all serpent-like. It was a cool Michigan-family move, and the punk of Madonna was certainly represented...fuck, it was really cool. haha. Iggy singing "Burnin' Up" was just so damn fitting, it could've been a Stooges song, fer chrissakes. I just woulda loved to have seen her up there with him, I guess. Whew--that would have been hot.

One of the most surreal moments of TV/pop culture spectating/icons colliding came when the camera followed Iggy and the boys off stage. We followed them through the kitchen, Goodfellas-style, down a hall, and to the voice of Madonna, saying, "Iggy! That was great!" Camera crew, on-lookers, et al surrounded them as photogs snapped shots of the sinewy punk prince and the lovely, snow-white Queen...it was trippy and awkward and...really sweet and real. I loved it.

Madge perfor--er, wait...that's IGGY POP!!!!!!

2008-03-10T18:48:00.000-07:00

That's right. Lady Madge gets inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Sham tonight and she will not be performing.

Iggy fucking Pop and the Stooges will be in her place.

More on this ....next post.

Also: I am going to Ireland in a few days---I hope to gawd I will be able to access this beast when I'm in ova thar.

feeling old, feeling young

2008-02-28T11:11:00.000-08:00

Tonight I will see the Hives and the Donnas at First Ave (a last minute decision, a righteous, much-needed school-night-rock). I have lost track of both bands in the last few years, but still love both very much.

I remember, vividly, seeing the Donnas for the first time (and the second, actually--very soon after the first...). It was at First Ave, of course, and me and Emily saw 'em and rocked our young hearts out. She was on leave (like, a week off) from the Marines and I remember running into her older, awesome punk-rock sister in the bathroom and, for the first time, First Ave seemed smaller, more accessible and I place I felt like I really belonged. It was starting to be a place where people knew me, and I would see cool older sisters smoking in the bathroom...actually, it was kinda like high school. But, Ramones-style, of course.

After those two times, I think I saw the Donnas at least three more times. Every time, their set was stronger and the lead singer gained more and more confidence. I was mesmerized, each time, by the sexy lead guitarist with the hair in her face. She was utterly committed to the rock and could give a half a shit if people thought she was hot. This, of course, made her hotter. This is when I made the observation that not only she, but me and E-Beth seemed to feel, and sometimes act, more like 14-year-old boys than the young adult woman that the calenders said we were. Still stands to this day, duuuude.

I was in college and writing for the Daily (gawd, Paul sez it was SIX years ago. dang.) when I first saw The Hives at First Ave. I remember it being ridiculously fun. Pele said something about wanting to make out with all of us, but later told us all to go fuck ourselves, but it was in his precious, broken English, a punk-rock sentiment, but somehow made sweet with his voice, so everyone laughed. The intensity exploded from the stage, Pele had the Mick thing, he had the Iggy thing and I wondered if it felt like this to see the Stooges...

I need this tonight, cuz it's been kind of a barren winter for shows (as ALWAYS in frosty MN) so, fuck....in the words of Rancid, let's go.

sneak peek!!

2008-02-18T12:40:00.000-08:00

Giddyup!!!

(but not til April....fer chissakes.)

Madonna’s New Album and Video: Exclusive Rolling Stone Preview

From RollingStone.com

Madonna has managed to keep most details about her still-untitled follow-up to 2005’s Confessions on a Dance Floor (due April 29th) under wraps, but Rolling Stone got an early listen to five tracks today and some behind-the-scenes info from producer Nate “Danja” Hills.
Fans who worried that Madonna might be losing inspiration as she approaches fifty need not be concerned. The new album takes a few steps away from the hyper-polished future disco of Confessions toward a more urban-oriented, thumpy funk, featuring production by Timbaland and Pharrell, as well as collaborations with Justin Timberlake. Danja says he worked on the album in London, and that Madonna indicated “she just wanted uptempo, dance, club [sounds] and everything to have a hip-hop underlining.” He adds that Madonna was easy-going and frequently in the studio putting in long hours alongside himself, Timbaland and Timberlake: “She would come in and sit in her chair in the corner and just vibe with us.”

The record’s first single is “4 Minutes to Save the World,” the track Timbaland partially debuted during a Philadelphia Christmas concert in December. “4 Minutes” has a bit of a marching band aesthetic as blasting brass play a scale-like riff, a hard, clanging beat enters and Madonna sings that the “road to heaven is paved with good intentions.” Timberlake and Madonna trade verses, and he appears on the chorus, doing his best Michael Jackson impression while quickly crooning, “We’ve only got four minutes to save the world.” The track ends after a brief breakdown where everything drops out but one of Tim’s signature Bhangra beats, some stabs of brass and Madonna’s urgent tick-tock’s. It’s a loud, busy, energetic track that is apparently getting an equally adventurous video: As previously reported, the clip (which is still being completed) is directed by hot French duo Jonas & François (Justice’s “D.A.N.C.E.”). Timbaland makes an appearance, and Madonna and Timberlake play superheroes tackling physical obstacles. The clip features choreography by Jamie King, who worked on Madonna’s Confessions, Re-Invention and Drowned World tours as well as her video for Confessions‘ “Sorry.”

The Pharrell-produced “Candy Store” opens with a big beat and Madonna’s invitation to “Come on in to my store, I got candy galore.” The track is pretty bare on the verses, but there’s a flash of brassy soul on the chorus when harmonies join Madonna singing, “I’ll be your one stop (one stop) candy shop.” The track is punctuated with throbbing breaks filled with hypnotic synths, and Pharrell jumps on the mike for a brief rhyme.

The most lyrical of the five songs is “Miles Away,” a wistful tune about a long-distance relationship with a melody that resembles Timberlake’s FutureSex/LoveSounds, an album Danja says Madonna admired. “We would come up with a track and him and Madonna would come and do lyrics and melody together,” Danja explains. The song opens with a quickly strummed acoustic guitar, then a stuttering beat drops in and the track slowly swells until it’s filled with atmospheric synths. “You always seem to have the biggest heart when we’re 6,000 miles apart,” Madonna sings grandly, lamenting, “I guess we’re at our best when we’re miles away.” The song has a more airy aesthetic compared to the heavy beats on other tracks, which reflects its more emotional lyrics.

The track that sounds most like a more urban, edgy continuation of Confessions is the excellent “Give It to Me,” which bumps along to a thick synth tone Danja employed on Britney Spears’ Blackout. It’s an aggressive, clubby track with a raw, house-y beat that’s ripe for remixing, and Madonna sings, “When the lights go down and there’s no one left I can go on and on.” It ends after a fast, killer breakdown where she chants “Get stupid” over a xylophone chime as the beat builds into a frenzy and she proclaims, “Give it to me / No one’s gonna stop me now.”

The dance floor theme returns again on “Heartbeat,” which boasts a thumping hip-hop beat with a sandpaper shuffle and twinkling Eighties-reminiscent synths. Madonna opens up her voice more, singing, “Can’t you see when I dance I feel free / Which makes me feel like the only one the light shines on.” The song features a brief rap breakdown that recalls Nelly Furtado’s chanty “Promiscuous” (”See my booty get down,” Madonna speak-sings), but returns to its clubby roots in the end.

Caryn Ganz

special happy valentine's day post...OR song for the lovers...OR how inspiring it is to dig a pop song nowadays

2008-02-14T08:47:00.000-08:00

Usually, sadly, I am never moved or touched by new pop music. So much of it is saccharine, trite, cliché, or just musically annoying. I know, I must sound like a crotchety old woman. But, something has been tugging at my heart strings, and I think it's musically brilliant and it's crazy infectious. "No One" by Alicia Keys has been etched in my mind for a lil' while now--the Grammys gave it an extra push into my brain's crevices.

It's one of the only pop-you-can-see-the-video-on-MTV songs in my life (yes, that's right) that I immediately felt touched by. I have always loved Alicia Keys, her spectacular voice, her brilliant talent and (real) musicianship, her “story” (raised by single mom in Hell’s Kitchen in NY) and, unavoidably, her sexy, drop-dead-gorgeousness. But I haven’t always liked her songs. For the most part, they’re forgettable and slightly generic. There are exceptions of course, hell, I couldn’t say I was a fan if I didn’t admit that.

But, it’s this “new” Alicia Keys that’s got me all revved up. I first read about her recent life-changing experiences (big things like: litigious endeavors with her management, a solo trip to Egypt for several months and making more of a commitment to the love in her life) and her admitting that it’s definitely affected her songwriting and even her voice.

I feel so removed and literary, but I *read* about her “new voice” before I’d even heard it and I didn’t even hear the goddamn song, “No One” until roughly a month ago. (The rest of the world was rocking this song for months, I now hear. Heh.) turns out, what I read was right on the money.

Her voice on “No One” sounds absouluelty glorious, but there’s this slight edge of rawness, a bit of roughness. Makes me think of John Lennon on “Twist and Shout.” One of his best vocals (in my opinion) but his voice was virtually shot. It was at the very end of a very long recording session and his vocal chords were almost fried. But, fuck, it sounds intense and sexy and like the raw rock that I can only fantasize about, existing in the early days at the Cavern. Sigh. That’s what’s going on in Alicia’s voice too, but it’s more imbued with the meaning from the song. It’s balls-out *passion* and it’s intense and it sounds like she’s been through hell. Maybe all cried-out, even. It’s so emotive that she does sound like she’s matured beyond something. And the song builds and so does her voice. It's the sound a very stong, smart woman decaring her love and making sure to tell all the skeptics to fuck off. It's feisty. It's gutsy and I adore it.

When I hear it, it’s so close to my heart—those lyrics to a long-time lover:

No One

By Alicia Keys

I just want you close
Where you can stay forever
You can be sure
That it will only get better
You and me together
Through the days and nights
I don't worry 'cuz
Everythings gonna be alright
People keep talking
They can say what they like
But all I know is everything's gonna be alright

No one no one no one
Can get in the way of what I'm feeling
No one no one no one
Can get in the way of what I feel for you
You you
Can get in the way of what I feel for you

When the rain is pouring down
And my heart is hurting
You will always be around
This I know for certain

You and me together
Through the days and nights

I don't worry cause
Everythings gonna be alright
People keep talking
They can say what they like
But all I know is everything's gonna be alright

No one no one no one
Can get in the way of what I'm feeling
No one no one no one
Can get in the way of what I feel for you
You you
Can get in the way of what I feel

I know some people search the world
To find something like what we have
I know people will try
Try to divide
Something so real
So till the end of time
I'm telling you that

No one no one no one
Can get in the way of what I'm feeling
No one no one no one
Can get in the way of what I feel for you
Oh oh oh...

Sure, it's a bit repetitive (so many great pop songs are), but it's like a mantra of love, baby. And there’s this fabulous beat and strange and wonderful organ/keyboard sounds that heave in and out…it’s a fucking masterpiece of a pop song and it brings home how lucky I feel to be able to relate to such a declaration of love.

Happy V day, Fitzy. You know what I feel for you…(just wish I could sing like Alicia Keys…now I know exactly why Bobby Z was so desperate to find her.)

music

2008-02-12T12:17:00.000-08:00

Does anybody remember the music?

hehe, I have been too hyped-up over politics and news of late. It's almost eclipsed my unhealthy obsession with entertainment and pop culture! The horror.

Winter kinda sucks the life outta all those thingsIcan'tgetoutof...

This weekend brought the stunning and powerful "Persepolis" and the Grammys! (Back in the saddle, again)

The Grammys were actually rad this year! Don't care about the winners and all that bullshit, but the performances were GREAT and it was *packed*! Well, done, you Out-of-Touchers! (Herbie Hancock does Joni Mitchell!? WTF! haha)

"Persepolis" is something I've been waiting for …for a long time. I read the graphic novels years ago and totally fell in love with Marjane Satrapi and her story. (To brief you on that, if you don't know what I'm talking about...Satrapi, Iranian, was born and raised in a progressive (communist/socialist) household where friends and family came for sanctuary after being imprisoned or persecuted by the violent Islamic Revolution that was exploding around them at the time. And Marjane is a spiritual rebel, punk feminist, and Marx-loving intellect in her own right.)

The novel and movie adaptation version of Lil' Marjane conjures up childhood memories so vividly and warmly--I had always hoped, as a child, that I *vowed* to 'remember what everything was like' so that when I grew older, I'd know how to treat a kid, cuz I'd remember what the world is like when you're young (never speak condescendingly to children was the first commandment...) Marjane really nailed it in her books and on screen. At first, when she is quite young, she engages in lucid conversations and (sometimes angry) debates with god. It's so endearing and real. Again, it makes me think of me as a young one, involved in my own world--thoughts about the universe and reality and religion swirling in my head--trying to make sense of it all.

One of my favorite scenes to see come to life from the book shows a young Marjane walking down the street lined with men in dark coats selling bootleg tapes and records. She ignores the Michael Jackson, the ABBA, but then hears "Iron Maiden" and her eyes widen. Although it's nearly impossible for me to imagine what it would be like to grow up in such a controlled, prohibited state of existence, Satrapi is deft at making her entire story utterly relatable. When we get to see her engage in one of the most universal (for those who dig music, I guess) cathartic episodes, it struck me deep. She is disheartened by the chaos around her, and retreats to her room to *rock* out to the screams of Iron Maiden. Her rage, sadness and rebellion spill out and are released as she pumps her fist, squeezes her eyes shut and thrashes to the Rawk. It made me tear up and grin with empathy and joy.

She is profoundly affected by all the war, death, oppression that surrounds her, but she is also (somewhat) in her bubble of childhood and rebellion--this leads to confusing times ahead.

On screen, Marjane's persona is precious and precocious as a wee lass (cutest lil' French girl voice EVER!), and then evolving into a young woman, she becomes more confused and frustrated about her identity. Being sent to school in Vienna and then ultimately ending up in France--she is exotic and alluring to the punks and the commies, and "vile" to prejudiced others. She struggles with depression and *life*. She feels guilt because her family is enduring Iran's turmoil and she can be free to be a young student, far removed, in Europe. The movie is true to the tone (funny, absurd, touching) that the book held. It also brings to life the books' simple (black and white) beauty that Satrapi created so masterfully.

sigh. I don't wanna go overboard on plot----I just must say that Things Are Getting Better In Our World. This movie makes me realize it...and of course, looming over that is this moment of improbable politics. Yes, a black man and a woman are vying for the nom, and that is fucking incredible and inspiring …and it's so about time! As J Mo and Catu both say, how great is it to disagree and even argue about who we support, look at our choices! How freeing! How wonderful!

With similar awe, I marveled at and took time to appreciate that this movie was even made. It's in the art houses, sure, but it is fucking nominated for an Oscar, goddammit! Adapted from a graphic novel, about a young, rebellious Iranian woman who loves Iron Maiden and Kim Wilde ("We're the kids in America, whoa-oh" didn't make it into the film, but damn, I loved that in the book. ha!) Where's the "audience" for that!? But, people are digging it, man.

Things are changing...I feel it.

hehe

2008-02-07T08:42:00.001-08:00

the Repubs would LOVE to have Hil be the nom!

2008-02-07T07:06:00.000-08:00

you know that, right? They're hoping and praying to sweet Jeebus that she gets it. Why? Because they know that there are people (sometimes ignorant, sometimes bitter people...mostly) out there who shudder at the tone of her voice and at the sight of her face. It brings up bad memories for some. Others say "She's just not made for public leadership. It's very unnatural for her." People that are just going to give up and *not* vote for the DFL, cuz it's her. Of course, not me. But I have heard the statements made and I partly understand. There is so much baggage, so much of her persona has been (unjustly, for the most part) maligned to represent a blind ambition for power (like her hubby) that excludes genuine concern for public service. She is fiercely polarizing, and again, the Repubs are just waiting to trounce her in the General.

Read this for mo better about it.

"service vs. selfishness"

2008-01-30T08:20:00.000-08:00

This rocks.

January 29, 2008
Op-Ed Columnist

The Kennedy Mystique

By DAVID BROOKS

Something fundamental has shifted in the Democratic Party.

Last week there was the widespread revulsion at the Clintons’ toxic attempts to ghettoize Barack Obama. In private and occasionally in public, leading Democrats lost patience with the hyperpartisan style of politics — the distortion of facts, the demonizing of foes, the secret admiration for brass-knuckle brawling and the ever-present assumption that it’s necessary to pollute the public sphere to win. All the suppressed suspicions of Clintonian narcissism came back to the fore. Are these people really serving the larger cause of the Democratic Party, or are they using the party as a vehicle for themselves?

And then Monday, something equally astonishing happened. A throng of Kennedys came to the Bender Arena at American University in Washington to endorse Obama. Caroline Kennedy evoked her father. Senator Edward Kennedy’s slightly hunched form carried with it the recent history of the Democratic Party.

The Kennedy endorsements will help among working-class Democrats, Catholics and the millions of Americans who have followed Caroline’s path to maturity. Furthermore, here was Senator Kennedy, the consummate legislative craftsman, vouching for the fact that Obama is ready to be president on Day One.

But the event was striking for another reason, having to do with the confluence of themes and generations. The Kennedys and Obama hit the same contrasts again and again in their speeches: the high road versus the low road; inspiration versus calculation; future versus the past; and most of all, service versus selfishness.

“With Barack Obama, we will turn the page on the old politics of misrepresentation and distortion,” Senator Kennedy declared. “With Barack Obama, there is a new national leader who has given America a different kind of campaign — a campaign not just about himself, but about all of us,” he said.

The Clintons started this fight, and in his grand and graceful way, Kennedy returned the volley with added speed.

Kennedy went on to talk about the 1960s. But he didn’t talk much about the late-60s, when Bill and Hillary came to political activism. He talked about the early-60s, and the idealism of the generation that had seen World War II, the idealism of the generation that marched in jacket and ties, the idealism of a generation whose activism was relatively unmarked by drug use and self-indulgence.

Then, in the speech’s most striking passage, he set Bill Clinton afloat on the receding tide of memory. “There was another time,” Kennedy said, “when another young candidate was running for president and challenging America to cross a New Frontier.” But, he continued, another former Democratic president, Harry Truman, said he should have patience. He said he lacked experience. John Kennedy replied: “The world is changing. The old ways will not do!”

The audience at American University roared. It was mostly young people, and to them, the Clintons are as old as the Trumans were in 1960. And in the students’ rapture for Kennedy’s message, you began to see the folding over of generations, the service generation of John and Robert Kennedy united with the service generation of the One Campaign. The grandparents and children united against the parents.

How could the septuagenarian Kennedy cast the younger Clintons into the past? He could do it because he evoked the New Frontier, which again seems fresh. He could do it because he himself has come to live a life of service.

After his callow youth, Kennedy came to realize that life would not give him the chance to be president. But life did ask him to be a senator, and he has embraced that role and served that institution with more distinction than anyone else now living — as any of his colleagues, Republican or Democrat, will tell you. And he could do it because culture really does have rhythms. The respect for institutions that was prevalent during the early ’60s is prevalent with the young again today. The earnest industriousness that was common then is back today. The awareness that we are not self-made individualists, free to be you and me, but emerge as parts of networks, webs and communities; that awareness is back again today.

Sept. 11th really did leave a residue — an unconsummated desire for sacrifice and service. The old Clintonian style of politics clashes with that desire. When Sidney Blumenthal expresses the Clinton creed by telling George Packer of The New Yorker, “It’s not a question of transcending partisanship. It’s a question of fulfilling it,” that clashes with the desire as well.

It’s not clear how far this altered public mood will carry Obama in this election. But there was something important and memorable about the way the 75-year-old Kennedy communed and bonded with a rapturous crowd half a century his junior.

The old guy stole the show.

in case you didn't see it...

2008-01-28T07:33:00.000-08:00

so great....

January 27, 2008
Op-Ed Contributor
A President Like My Father

By CAROLINE KENNEDY

OVER the years, I’ve been deeply moved by the people who’ve told me they wished they could feel inspired and hopeful about America the way people did when my father was president. This sense is even more profound today. That is why I am supporting a presidential candidate in the Democratic primaries, Barack Obama.

My reasons are patriotic, political and personal, and the three are intertwined. All my life, people have told me that my father changed their lives, that they got involved in public service or politics because he asked them to. And the generation he inspired has passed that spirit on to its children. I meet young people who were born long after John F. Kennedy was president, yet who ask me how to live out his ideals.

Sometimes it takes a while to recognize that someone has a special ability to get us to believe in ourselves, to tie that belief to our highest ideals and imagine that together we can do great things. In those rare moments, when such a person comes along, we need to put aside our plans and reach for what we know is possible.

We have that kind of opportunity with Senator Obama. It isn’t that the other candidates are not experienced or knowledgeable. But this year, that may not be enough. We need a change in the leadership of this country — just as we did in 1960.

Most of us would prefer to base our voting decision on policy differences. However, the candidates’ goals are similar. They have all laid out detailed plans on everything from strengthening our middle class to investing in early childhood education. So qualities of leadership, character and judgment play a larger role than usual.

Senator Obama has demonstrated these qualities throughout his more than two decades of public service, not just in the United States Senate but in Illinois, where he helped turn around struggling communities, taught constitutional law and was an elected state official for eight years. And Senator Obama is showing the same qualities today. He has built a movement that is changing the face of politics in this country, and he has demonstrated a special gift for inspiring young people — known for a willingness to volunteer, but an aversion to politics — to become engaged in the political process.

I have spent the past five years working in the New York City public schools and have three teenage children of my own. There is a generation coming of age that is hopeful, hard-working, innovative and imaginative. But too many of them are also hopeless, defeated and disengaged. As parents, we have a responsibility to help our children to believe in themselves and in their power to shape their future. Senator Obama is inspiring my children, my parents’ grandchildren, with that sense of possibility.

Senator Obama is running a dignified and honest campaign. He has spoken eloquently about the role of faith in his life, and opened a window into his character in two compelling books. And when it comes to judgment, Barack Obama made the right call on the most important issue of our time by opposing the war in Iraq from the beginning.

I want a president who understands that his responsibility is to articulate a vision and encourage others to achieve it; who holds himself, and those around him, to the highest ethical standards; who appeals to the hopes of those who still believe in the American Dream, and those around the world who still believe in the American ideal; and who can lift our spirits, and make us believe again that our country needs every one of us to get involved.

I have never had a president who inspired me the way people tell me that my father inspired them. But for the first time, I believe I have found the man who could be that president — not just for me, but for a new generation of Americans.

MLK day

2008-01-21T11:16:00.000-08:00

remember, and get inspired.

here's something to get ya started: (warning: lots o' lord-speak, but we're talking bout the Rev. so...claro que si)

Read here, or go here: http://my.barackobama.com/page/m/f3a1c603bd54760a/S3XQCX

Remarks of Senator Barack Obama:

The Great Need of the Hour

Atlanta, GA January 20, 2008

The Scripture tells us that when Joshua and the Israelites arrived at the gates of Jericho, they could not enter. The walls of the city were too steep for any one person to climb; too strong to be taken down with brute force. And so they sat for days, unable to pass on through.

But God had a plan for his people. He told them to stand together and march together around the city, and on the seventh day he told them that when they heard the sound of the ram's horn, they should speak with one voice. And at the chosen hour, when the horn sounded and a chorus of voices cried out together, the mighty walls of Jericho came tumbling down.

There are many lessons to take from this passage, just as there are many lessons to take from this day, just as there are many memories that fill the space of this church. As I was thinking about which ones we need to remember at this hour, my mind went back to the very beginning of the modern Civil Rights Era.

Because before Memphis and the mountaintop; before the bridge in Selma and the march on Washington; before Birmingham and the beatings; the fire hoses and the loss of those four little girls; before there was King the icon and his magnificent dream, there was King the young preacher and a people who found themselves suffering under the yoke of oppression. //
And on the eve of the bus boycotts in Montgomery, at a time when many were still doubtful about the possibilities of change, a time when those in the black community mistrusted themselves, and at times mistrusted each other, King inspired with words not of anger, but of an urgency that still speaks to us today:

"Unity is the great need of the hour" is what King said. Unity is how we shall overcome.

What Dr. King understood is that if just one person chose to walk instead of ride the bus, those walls of oppression would not be moved. But maybe if a few more walked, the foundation might start to shake. If a few more women were willing to do what Rosa Parks had done, maybe the cracks would start to show. If teenagers took freedom rides from North to South, maybe a few bricks would come loose. Maybe if white folks marched because they had come to understand that their freedom too was at stake in the impending battle, the wall would begin to sway. And if enough Americans were awakened to the injustice; if they joined together, North and South, rich and poor, Christian and Jew, then perhaps that wall would come tumbling down, and justice would flow like water, and righteousness like a mighty stream.

Unity is the great need of the hour -- the great need of this hour. Not because it sounds pleasant or because it makes us feel good, but because it's the only way we can overcome the essential deficit that exists in this country.

I'm not talking about a budget deficit. I'm not talking about a trade deficit. I'm not talking about a deficit of good ideas or new plans.

I'm talking about a moral deficit. I'm talking about an empathy deficit. I'm taking about an inability to recognize ourselves in one another; to understand that we are our brother's keeper; we are our sister's keeper; that, in the words of Dr. King, we are all tied together in a single garment of destiny.

We have an empathy deficit when we're still sending our children down corridors of shame -- schools in the forgotten corners of America where the color of your skin still affects the content of your education.

We have a deficit when CEOs are making more in ten minutes than some workers make in ten months; when families lose their homes so that lenders make a profit; when mothers can't afford a doctor when their children get sick.

We have a deficit in this country when there is Scooter Libby justice for some and Jena justice for others; when our children see nooses hanging from a schoolyard tree today, in the present, in the twenty-first century.

We have a deficit when homeless veterans sleep on the streets of our cities; when innocents are slaughtered in the deserts of Darfur; when young Americans serve tour after tour of duty in a war that should've never been authorized and never been waged.

And we have a deficit when it takes a breach in our levees to reveal a breach in our compassion; when it takes a terrible storm to reveal the hungry that God calls on us to feed; the sick He calls on us to care for; the least of these He commands that we treat as our own.

So we have a deficit to close. We have walls -- barriers to justice and equality -- that must come down. And to do this, we know that unity is the great need of this hour.

Unfortunately, all too often when we talk about unity in this country, we've come to believe that it can be purchased on the cheap. We've come to believe that racial reconciliation can come easily -- that it's just a matter of a few ignorant people trapped in the prejudices of the past, and that if the demagogues and those who exploit our racial divisions will simply go away, then all our problems would be solved.

All too often, we seek to ignore the profound institutional barriers that stand in the way of ensuring opportunity for all children, or decent jobs for all people, or health care for those who are sick. We long for unity, but are unwilling to pay the price.

But of course, true unity cannot be so easily won. It starts with a change in attitudes -- a broadening of our minds, and a broadening of our hearts.

It's not easy to stand in somebody else's shoes. It's not easy to see past our differences. We've all encountered this in our own lives. But what makes it even more difficult is that we have a politics in this country that seeks to drive us apart -- that puts up walls between us.

We are told that those who differ from us on a few things are different from us on all things; that our problems are the fault of those who don't think like us or look like us or come from where we do. The welfare queen is taking our tax money. The immigrant is taking our jobs. The believer condemns the non-believer as immoral, and the non-believer chides the believer as intolerant.

For most of this country's history, we in the African-American community have been at the receiving end of man's inhumanity to man. And all of us understand intimately the insidious role that race still sometimes plays -- on the job, in the schools, in our health care system, and in our criminal justice system.

And yet, if we are honest with ourselves, we must admit that none of our hands are entirely clean. If we're honest with ourselves, we'll acknowledge that our own community has not always been true to King's vision of a beloved community.

We have scorned our gay brothers and sisters instead of embracing them. The scourge of anti-Semitism has, at times, revealed itself in our community. For too long, some of us have seen immigrants as competitors for jobs instead of companions in the fight for opportunity.

Every day, our politics fuels and exploits this kind of division across all races and regions; across gender and party. It is played out on television. It is sensationalized by the media. And last week, it even crept into the campaign for President, with charges and counter-charges that served to obscure the issues instead of illuminating the critical choices we face as a nation.

So let us say that on this day of all days, each of us carries with us the task of changing our hearts and minds. The division, the stereotypes, the scape-goating, the ease with which we blame our plight on others -- all of this distracts us from the common challenges we face -- war and poverty; injustice and inequality. We can no longer afford to build ourselves up by tearing someone else down. We can no longer afford to traffic in lies or fear or hate. It is the poison that we must purge from our politics; the wall that we must tear down before the hour grows too late.

Because if Dr. King could love his jailor; if he could call on the faithful who once sat where you do to forgive those who set dogs and fire hoses upon them, then surely we can look past what divides us in our time, and bind up our wounds, and erase the empathy deficit that exists in our hearts.

But if changing our hearts and minds is the first critical step, we cannot stop there. It is not enough to bemoan the plight of poor children in this country and remain unwilling to push our elected officials to provide the resources to fix our schools. It is not enough to decry the disparities of health care and yet allow the insurance companies and the drug companies to block much-needed reforms. It is not enough for us to abhor the costs of a misguided war, and yet allow ourselves to be driven by a politics of fear that sees the threat of attack as way to scare up votes instead of a call to come together around a common effort.

The Scripture tells us that we are judged not just by word, but by deed. And if we are to truly bring about the unity that is so crucial in this time, we must find it within ourselves to act on what we know; to understand that living up to this country's ideals and its possibilities will require great effort and resources; sacrifice and stamina.

And that is what is at stake in the great political debate we are having today. The changes that are needed are not just a matter of tinkering at the edges, and they will not come if politicians simply tell us what we want to hear. All of us will be called upon to make some sacrifice. None of us will be exempt from responsibility. We will have to fight to fix our schools, but we will also have to challenge ourselves to be better parents. We will have to confront the biases in our criminal justice system, but we will also have to acknowledge the deep-seated violence that still resides in our own communities and marshal the will to break its grip.

That is how we will bring about the change we seek. That is how Dr. King led this country through the wilderness. He did it with words -- words that he spoke not just to the children of slaves, but the children of slave owners. Words that inspired not just black but also white; not just the Christian but the Jew; not just the Southerner but also the Northerner.

He led with words, but he also led with deeds. He also led by example. He led by marching and going to jail and suffering threats and being away from his family. He led by taking a stand against a war, knowing full well that it would diminish his popularity. He led by challenging our economic structures, understanding that it would cause discomfort. Dr. King understood that unity cannot be won on the cheap; that we would have to earn it through great effort and determination.

That is the unity -- the hard-earned unity -- that we need right now. It is that effort, and that determination, that can transform blind optimism into hope -- the hope to imagine, and work for, and fight for what seemed impossible before.

The stories that give me such hope don't happen in the spotlight. They don't happen on the presidential stage. They happen in the quiet corners of our lives. They happen in the moments we least expect. Let me give you an example of one of those stories.

There is a young, twenty-three year old white woman named Ashley Baia who organizes for our campaign in Florence, South Carolina. She's been working to organize a mostly African-American community since the beginning of this campaign, and the other day she was at a roundtable discussion where everyone went around telling their story and why they were there.

And Ashley said that when she was nine years old, her mother got cancer. And because she had to miss days of work, she was let go and lost her health care. They had to file for bankruptcy, and that's when Ashley decided that she had to do something to help her mom.

She knew that food was one of their most expensive costs, and so Ashley convinced her mother that what she really liked and really wanted to eat more than anything else was mustard and relish sandwiches. Because that was the cheapest way to eat.

She did this for a year until her mom got better, and she told everyone at the roundtable that the reason she joined our campaign was so that she could help the millions of other children in the country who want and need to help their parents too.

So Ashley finishes her story and then goes around the room and asks everyone else why they're supporting the campaign. They all have different stories and reasons. Many bring up a specific issue. And finally they come to this elderly black man who's been sitting there quietly the entire time. And Ashley asks him why he's there. And he does not bring up a specific issue. He does not say health care or the economy. He does not say education or the war. He does not say that he was there because of Barack Obama. He simply says to everyone in the room, "I am here because of Ashley."

By itself, that single moment of recognition between that young white girl and that old black man is not enough. It is not enough to give health care to the sick, or jobs to the jobless, or education to our children.

But it is where we begin. It is why the walls in that room began to crack and shake.

And if they can shake in that room, they can shake in Atlanta.

And if they can shake in Atlanta, they can shake in Georgia.

And if they can shake in Georgia, they can shake all across America. Andif enough of our voices join together; we can bring those walls tumbling down. The walls of Jericho can finally come tumbling down. That is our hope -- but only if we pray together, and work together, and march together.

Brothers and sisters, we cannot walk alone.

In the struggle for peace and justice, we cannot walk alone.

In the struggle for opportunity and equality, we cannot walk alone.

In the struggle to heal this nation and repair this world, we cannot walk alone.

So I ask you to walk with me, and march with me, and join your voice with mine, and together we will sing the song that tears down the walls that divide us, and lift up an America that is truly indivisible, with liberty, and justice, for all. May God bless the memory of the great pastor of this church, and may God bless the United States of America.

Hello, Ulee!!!

2008-01-20T10:37:00.001-08:00

That's a lil' sumpin' for you (above). Ray of Light-era Madge and you makes me think of camping and sleeping in trunks...

How the hell are ya?

You should email me at my contact info... I'd love to hear all about it.

A Day in the Life.....

2008-01-18T09:00:00.000-08:00

Of First Ave. = fucking awesome.

Chris Riemenschneider did gooooooood!!!!

check it out

lagrimas de felicidad

2008-01-08T14:06:00.000-08:00

Coming home from work, after a week of sick leave was a strange trip. I am still dealing with the nasty illness, bronchitis--but, it's far better than it was.

I was sifting through the artists on my iPod and found Joesph Arthur and went with it (there's only one song by him on there). It's "Echo Park" and it's crazy romantic and haunting and shwoooooomp! it took me to another time and place and boom! there's lagrimas dripping from my eyes. As my chest aches and burns from the bronch (yeah, it really smarts, especially when my body makes contact with the brutal cold) I feel overwhelmed, emotionally, all of a sudden.

I had been disconnected from the real world for so damn long, I hadn't listened to music on headphones in an *age*, it seemed. Hearing that lush string arrangement and those words and that melody that makes me think of how scary and intoxicating it is to fall in love------------I was moved to tears.

And, although I have been so removed from my reality, I had also been soaking up the news like a hyper connected-version of the News Junkie that I have always been. (I still can't believe there are people who choose *no* news source in their lives. It scares me. Especially in the times we live in---fuck, what I'm I saying? there's never an excuse! Inform yerself, Empower yerself! Please!)

In a weird way, I feel like I am more in touch with what's going on in the world than usual. It probably sounds warped to feel that way when I've essentially been a prisoner of illness in my own home...but it's just more heightened sense of major (and some minor) happenings in the world in these *clash*-fueled times. I am all about the NPR, CNN, PBS, Keith Olbermann, The Times, Charlie Rose, etc, etc. And of course Our Man, Mr. Obama is everywhere. A leader, a true-blue fucking *leader* for ANYone who wants to Vote for Change. And, of course, it's so blood-pumpingly, heart-thumpingly exciting. And there's "Si, Se Puede" ("Yes. We. Can.") buzzing around in my head ever since it came from his beautiful mouth and hit my ears and my heart.

I see the Ron Paul sign in the yard in Uptown and shake my head and smile and I see the Obama '08 sign we have propped up in our window for all to see and wonder who saw it today. I get excited. It's partly cuz there's that buzz in the air, everywhere. But at that moment it was also the Kinks on my headphones. And, sometimes, when the music hits you, it ALL hits you.

PS and can I just TELL you: it's so damn nice to feel this much joy and optimism when it's the saddest month of all (full of sickness and depression and brrrrrrrrr COLD)

A change is....BOUND to happen

2008-01-04T10:46:00.000-08:00

Well, I couldn't be in a better mood, how bout you?

Barack Obama won Iowa over, bunch of whiteys. They said it wouldn't happen. It did. Yes, people are sick and tired of the "okey doke" and Obama is the one that's gonna tear it all up. I just feel it. His speech last night brought me to tears. I have never, EVER been so moved, touched or inspired by a *politician* in my entire 26 years of living. I truly believe in people more than I ever have before. If Independents and Repubs are actually turning out for Obama--there really is hope for unity...so fucking exciting. I can hardly stand it!

Here we go........

Juno and RudeGirl...Girl Power, as they say...

2007-12-28T12:35:00.000-08:00

Well, hello there. It's been a while. It's been a whirlwind. All those people I know and love that live far from here are !BOOM! and the funtime never stops!

Just saw Juno finally last night and guess what? It's fucking GREAT. It really, really is. And you know, anticipation has a habit to set you up for disappointment...as does overhype and overexposure. But, a wonderfully written, beautifully acted and directed movie can't help being awesome. So see it, and decide for yourself...I would be surprised if you didn't like it. Oh, just make sure you buy your tix in advance and show up early. Dude at the ticket booth told me it's been sold out, every night since the damn thing opened. Fuck Little Miss Sunshine. This is where it's at. (I only say that because *everyone* keeps saying it in the same breath as Juno and yeah, I get it, but this movie is FAR BETTER, people.)

It's a story that you think you might be predictable or hokey or too simplistic about a big-deal-issue: 16-year-old gets preggers and shit--what do you do? Well, it's handled so well in the film--I marveled at it. It's still a *movie* of course, but the realistic bits are good n' plenty enough to make it hit hard and feel true.

My one and only complaint: the music throughout the movie *sucked*. A lot. Whew. It's chiefly made up of songs by the Moldy Peaches. Yeah, I'd heard of the chick...but had no idea how shitty the music was. All of the songs are annoyingly sing-songy, the lyrics are full of child-like simplicity and it was so bad to me, it was actually *distracting* at times. Just really weak and disappointing. I guess it's supposed to be cutesy and we're meant to assume it represents what "Juno would listen to," but that doesn't ring true for a second. One of the best little bits in the movie for me was when Jason Bateman's character (a music man, actually, who hails from the School of 1993 Grunge) is trying to describe the appeal of Sonic Youth. Juno then cites her "top three" fave music acts (this is a radically accompanied by black white photos flashed quickly on the screen): Iggy and the Stooges, Patti Smith and The Runaways. Fucking right on!!! She says that music was magical and perfect in 1977 and loves the punk rock, clearly. So, why, I ask, do we NEVER hear any punk? It's a goddamn shame.

Ellen Page is a damn revelation. She is the Jodie Foster for her generation. Smart, pretty, sassy, (maybe gay?) fantastic young actor, she is ideal for this role. And good fucking job, Ms. Cody. I had my doubts, I won't lie. I have been reading about your....er--Cinderella story (sorry) for YEARS now, and I wondered what the final product would be like. It's a beaut. It's something I could see again and again, too. It's so layered and filled with that pure sugarpop culture dialogue that just pops and crackles and flows and *works*. It's not Clueless. It's far more creative and far more *real* than that. For as slick and clever as the words that flutter fast as fire from Juno's mouth, there's real moments of awkwardness. Other characters have their very own way of speaking, too. She's a great screenwriter! Bring on the backlash, my ass. Arctic Monkeys, Diablo Cody, bring it on! Bring on the praise and the opportunity.

You deserve it.

++++++++

Also--I did this little thing on Saturday...I was lucky enough to participate in the Rude Girl project: An all female tribute to the Clash! This group of women who put it together are a total inspiration. Emily B on guitar has only been playing the axe for 4 months! How punk rock is that!? She fucking rocks. Well, all the chicks rock and they were so kind and welcoming to me...I only made it to two rehearsals, and it was such a great experience...really kinda magical. Just that whole playing and singing punk rock in a basement kinda thing. Such a glorious thing to be a part of--something I always wanted to...try.

We played the Triple Rock and a lot of people actually showed up! I sang the closer, the Clash cover-version of "I Fought the Law." What a fun song to sing. I used to sing along to that bad-ass anthem when I was just a wee lass. It was totally on those Time Life cassettes I worshiped. 1965, totally. Bobby Fuller Four. Awesome. Then, the Clash does their kick-ass version with some more dangerous lyrics--I just had to wear sunglasses on stage.

Check out photos and the review here, at HowWasTheShow.com

oh heeeeeeeeell yes.

2007-12-27T13:09:00.000-08:00

Power to the people, right on.

2007-12-20T13:31:00.000-08:00

THIS rocks.

December 18, 2007
Op-Ed Columnist
The Obama-Clinton Issue
By DAVID BROOKS

Hillary Clinton has been a much better senator than Barack Obama. She has been a serious, substantive lawmaker who has worked effectively across party lines. Obama has some accomplishments under his belt, but many of his colleagues believe that he has not bothered to master the intricacies of legislation or the maze of Senate rules. He talks about independence, but he has never quite bucked liberal orthodoxy or party discipline.

If Clinton were running against Obama for Senate, it would be easy to choose between them.
But they are running for president, and the presidency requires a different set of qualities. Presidents are buffeted by sycophancy, criticism and betrayal. They must improvise amid a thousand fluid crises. They’re isolated and also exposed, puffed up on the outside and hollowed out within. With the presidency, character and self-knowledge matter more than even experience. There are reasons to think that, among Democrats, Obama is better prepared for this madness.

Many of the best presidents in U.S. history had their character forged before they entered politics and carried to it a degree of self-possession and tranquillity that was impervious to the Sturm und Drang of White House life.

Obama is an inner-directed man in a profession filled with insecure outer-directed ones. He was forged by the process of discovering his own identity from the scattered facts of his childhood, a process that is described in finely observed detail in “Dreams From My Father.” Once he completed that process, he has been astonishingly constant.

Like most of the rival campaigns, I’ve been poring over press clippings from Obama’s past, looking for inconsistencies and flip-flops. There are virtually none. The unity speech he gives on the stump today is essentially the same speech that he gave at the Democratic convention in 2004, and it’s the same sort of speech he gave to Illinois legislators and Harvard Law students in the decades before that. He has a core, and was able to maintain his equipoise, for example, even as his campaign stagnated through the summer and fall.

Moreover, he has a worldview that precedes political positions. Some Americans (Republican or Democrat) believe that the country’s future can only be shaped through a remorseless civil war between the children of light and the children of darkness. Though Tom DeLay couldn’t deliver much for Republicans and Nancy Pelosi, so far, hasn’t been able to deliver much for Democrats, these warriors believe that what’s needed is more partisanship, more toughness and eventual conquest for their side.

But Obama does not ratchet up hostilities; he restrains them. He does not lash out at perceived enemies, but is aloof from them. In the course of this struggle to discover who he is, Obama clearly learned from the strain of pessimistic optimism that stretches back from Martin Luther King Jr. to Abraham Lincoln. This is a worldview that detests anger as a motivating force, that distrusts easy dichotomies between the parties of good and evil, believing instead that the crucial dichotomy runs between the good and bad within each individual.

Obama did not respond to his fatherlessness or his racial predicament with anger and rage, but as questions for investigation, conversation and synthesis. He approaches politics the same way. In her outstanding New Yorker profile, Larissa MacFarquhar notes that Obama does not perceive politics as a series of battles but as a series of systemic problems to be addressed. He pursues liberal ends in gradualist, temperamentally conservative ways.

Obama also has powers of observation that may mitigate his own inexperience and the isolating pressures of the White House. In his famous essay, “Political Judgment,” Isaiah Berlin writes that wise leaders don’t think abstractly. They use powers of close observation to integrate the vast shifting amalgam of data that constitute their own particular situation — their own and no other.

Obama demonstrated those powers in “Dreams From My Father” and still reveals glimpses of the ability to step outside his own ego and look at reality in uninhibited and honest ways. He still retains the capacity, also rare in presidents, of being able to sympathize with and grasp the motivations of his rivals. Even in his political memoir, “The Audacity of Hope,” he astutely observes that candidates are driven less by the desire for victory than by the raw fear of loss and humiliation.

What Bill Clinton said on “The Charlie Rose Show” is right: picking Obama is a roll of the dice. Sometimes he seems more concerned with process than results. But for Democrats, there’s a roll of the dice either way. The presidency is a bacterium. It finds the open wounds in the people who hold it. It infects them, and the resulting scandals infect the presidency and the country. The person with the fewest wounds usually does best in the White House, and is best for the country.

don't look back ... in anger

2007-11-28T17:54:00.000-08:00

Went to see the new Todd Haynes Dylan extravaganza, “I’m Not There” last weekend.

Whewboy.

And, I am hoping to see it again soon.

It might be up there with “Ray” for me (and that's saying a lot)…an absolutely brilliantly imaginative, dizzying approach that dramatizes the life of an extremely well-known musician (icon, really) who seemed almost untouchable. Haynes succeeds at making someone as enigmatic, reclusive and misanthropic as Bob Dylan accessible, raw and vulnerable (at moments). Simultaneously, he upholds the legendary status and the mythology that Dylan, himself, created. You could say the movie has some layers going on...

I thought it was fucking brilliant and crazy. And it *looked* so damn cool. There’s a few scenes, one in particular, recreating London in the 60s that so perfectly captures the look and the vibe of everything I’ve ever seen documented from that time and place—it felt like a perfectly preserved slice of life. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen more attention to detail, or “feel” than this film in that way.

Using the 6 different actors (Cate Blanchett, Marcus Carl Franklin, Christian Bale, Heath Ledger, Ben Whishaw and Richard Gere), Haynes was taking a major risk--no doubt. But, the thing is, he's a fucking brilliant director and he knows what he's doing. Although it is *sprawling*--it's never too chaotic or cluttered. The segues between times, places and the characters portraying Dylan are seamless and sublime--the editing is sweet and neat.

I was lucky enough to have a CSCL prof in college who was in love with Todd Haynes and everything he stood for. He made us watch "Poison" and "Safe" in class (he was so gay and so radical and so cool. sigh.) which, of course, caused me to watch "Velvet Goldmine," and "Far from Heaven" and then promptly fall in deeply in love with the flaming, oddball rebel.

Marcus Carl Franklin, an adorable, mature, talented young boy, does a doozy of a job playing a, yes, *version* of Dylan as a young runaway who is enamoured with the Dust Bowl era and calls himself Woody Guthrie (yep, just like Zimmy did as well as Strummer). He does an amazing job of capturing the sly, myth-making, tall-tale-tellin' ways of Early Talkin' Blues Dylan and is part of one of the most amazing scenes of the film. The only bit that brought me to the brink of tears--where the young lad visits a dying Woody Guthrie in NYC. The actor that plays the folk rebel legend looks astonishingly like him and it was a trip to imagine a similar scene taking place when Dylan actually made that pilgrimage to see the dying Guthrie. Another powerful and musically thunderous scene: lil' Woody playing "Tombstone Blues" with a couple of ol' black blues men on a porch. Totally anachronistic. Totally makes sense and had me stompin' my foot.

The beautiful Christian Bale plays Jack Rollins, a super-earnest version of Dylan in his "Times Are A-Changin'" phase as well as the latter-day born-again Christian Dylan. The only real gem for me was seeing the recreation of that stunning footage of Dylan do a benefit show with the faces of older black men in overalls in a field. The voice we hear is that of one of Minnesota's finest: Mason fucking Jennings. Trippy. Awesome.

The only one that didn’t sit quite right with me was the idea of the film actor character of later-era (Blood On the Tracks-era) Heath Ledger. Although it provided some wrenching moments of insight to the break--up of his marriage and a searing use of "Idiot Wind" to give the complete feel of disintegration of love (perhaps one of the most brutally hateful songs that I could actually admit to enjoying for some sick reason).

Another weak point was the (unobtrusive, thank goodness) ineffectual Whishaw doing “Arthur Rimbould” as a version of (the poet, yeah, kinda) Dylan being interrogated by a “committee” that resembles the questions that the press fired at a young Dylan in the beginning of his career. The bits of his monologues come quickly and serve as a little, messy quote-machine and not much more.

The haggard (but fitting choice) of Richard Gere as Billy the Kid-survived/cowboy Dylan is a strange departure, but still serves as a good tool to play off the kinda of stories of a post-motorcycle crash mythology.

The stunning, the brilliant, the dead-on, (and the actress I most admire right now) Cate Blanchett doing Dylan in 1965 London mode...and it is........Wow. Wow. Wow. I never, for a moment, questioned her portraying him. In fact, her still-present feminine presence is just right. At that time, Dylan was popping speed and was a tiny, slip of a man. The nice, white skin and cool, sexy cheekbones were there, too (Blanchett comes in with those traits--nicely). Her mannerisms are perfect, not overdone. Her attitude is just right, and she brings a sensitive, empathetic actor's (artist's, actually) portrayal to the idea of Bob Dylan we've only seen glimpses of in "Don't Look Back" and "No Direction Home." She nails it. At times, she strips away that surly, sinewy anger and angst and reveals a real kid, someone who is bewildered by fame and examination. It's truly a revelation.

During that era and those scenes I was treated to those bigger-than-life moments that I have been reading about for years. Although I am definitely a fan of the man and his music, I do not consider myself any kind of Dylanoligist. But, I certainly have picked up a lot of tidbits from the magazine gems like Mojo and Uncut, among other various sources that musicheads like me devour. Some of my favorite bits were the visual or dramatic references not only to specific life moments but also the fantastic rendering of song lyrics and images. That was so much fun for me to soak up.

The life bits were amazing to see on the big screen, too. Most notably for me was seeing those two crucial, infamous moments that are the stuff of pop culture legend. When we see Cate-as-Bob take the stage at a "version" of the Newport Jazz and Folk Festival we see a quick peak into a perfect metaphoric rendering of what took place: Bob and the boys open fire with real (imagined) machine guns on the unsuspecting folk-fanatics. In the very next moment we see a rendering of the real event, as they rip (LOUD) into "Maggie's Farm" and the disgusted, pained faces of the folkies plugging their ears and booing. We see a Pete Seeger-character wield an ax over his head threatening to cut the cables bringing the "evil" sounds of "mainstream" and "corny" rock music to the kids. Subsequently, they show the London theatre where a kid stood up and shouted "Judas!"
to the stage. Cate-as-Bob sneers, "I don't belieeeeve you." I fucking ate it up!! I love it. To see this all played out, so imaginatively, both playful and intense, was a thrilling movie-going experience.

Hearing the MUSIC was also what truly got me off. The great covers, by Jennings, John Doe (my boyfriend), the Black Keys, and, at the end, a stunningly beautiful arrangement of Knockin' On Heaven's Door by the great and spooky Antony and the Johnsons--killer. But, what's most fun, as silly and obvious as it might sound, is to hear the man himself sing his own songs throughout the film. It sounds bigger and better than ever, because it's the first time I've *heard* that shit on the big screen. You know what I mean. It's rad and it hits your whole body. Hard.

Seeing Bob Dylan, the icon, being remembered, honored, criticized and examined in such an artful, obsessive and detailed manor is just about the best kinda smack you can offer a popculturejunkie like me.

~overload~

2007-11-14T11:02:00.000-08:00

My brain can barely process this.

The Verve to headline Glastonbury 2008?

Richard Ashcroft says it will be a 'travesty' if they don't
3 hours ago
The Verve frontman Richard Ashcroft wants the band to headline Glastonbury 2008.

The star insisted it would be a "travesty" if they didn't take centre stage at the event - though the recently-reformed band faces serious competition for one of the coveted slots.
Speaking to XFM, Ashcroft said: "I think it would be a travesty if we didn't. Because I think what's missing from a lot of the headliners is we're one of the few bands that can jam without sounding like Lynyrd Skynyrd on a bad night, so we can actually take people on a proper journey, rock 'n' roll-wise.

He added: "I think that's what's great. If you can do that on the big stage, the big tunes can get 60,000 people singing but you've also got the capacity to change a standard rock gig into something else.

"I suppose that's what's been exciting about playing and we'll be excited about playing then."
Glastonbury co-organiser Emily Eavis was spotted at one of the band's London Roundhouse shows last week (November 6), fuelling speculation the band will play the event for the first time since 1995.

However, Emily's dad and festival boss Michael Eavis recently told NME.COM seven acts were in contention for the three Pyramid Stage headline slots.

Acts who could be in contention include Muse, Bruce Springsteen, Radiohead, REM, Led Zeppelin and Kylie Minogue.

The 2008 bash takes place between June 27 and 29

"...ain't no sin to be glad you're alive"

2007-11-05T08:49:00.000-08:00

First, a caveat: writing about Bruce Springsteen is simultaneously the most exuberant and daunting thing a music head/Springsteen head/music writer can do. Whew. So there.

Last Friday night marked my 9th time seeing the greatest rock performer alive in front of the greatest rock and roll band to rove the planet.

After hours of being in various holding cells (with some free time to bop around downtown St Paul) my dad, Fitzy and I (along with our various Springsteen characters/friends who would weave their way in and out of our evening) were thrust into that magical pit of pits...(I always think of good ol' Rancid. "See you in the pit" was inscribed on every album's liner notes, y'see...more on that later.)

When you're that close, see, when those lights that are shining on the stage are also shining on you...it's another reality. Another *realm*. The energy, the adrenaline, the electricity in the air is so fucking powerful--you feel that you and those 18,999 other people surrounding you could power a city...or elect a just president...or take over the world...

On the Daily Show, about a week ago, John Stewart did a rare thing and opened on a personal note. He told the audience that he had gone out last night and seen a show...and it was "The greatest night of my life." He then added, rhetorically, "Do you like Joy? Are you a fan of Joy?" (clip can be found on Fitzy's touching, brilliant review that finds the recent convert gushing about his experience...) He gets it.

So, I will say first that, music for me is as important as any human relationship I have and as important as eating food to function, etc. I do not kid. I mean it. Anyone who knows me, knows this is true. (And hell, if you're reading this, you fucking better well know that. You're probably sick to death of reading that. heh.) My father raised me all by himself and it's one of the things that closely bonded us. Every since he took my to my first concert at age 2 1/2, live shows have been one of the only things in life I look forward to with unprecedented *joy*. Every close friend I've ever had has also been a freak for music in some way. It's usually a key subject of conversation... And it's one of the most magical (and consistent) things I can share with the man I'm in love with. Music permeates my mind and my life--everyday.

OK--after saying that, Bruce Springsteen shows are the Ultimate Affirmation of all that love and all that music worship. The ultimate showman, the ultimate crowd participation and the ultimate changed state of mind once you leave the venue.

At first, tension abounded as all the diehards who had been waiting for hours were getting antsy and testy. You can't blame us for feeling restless, but some were more feisty than others and, for a brief moment, my whole excitement level was threatened by some majorly petty bullshit that was surrounding me. (Basically people getting shove-y and territorial. Hell, I was territorial--no doubt.)

But, of course, as you can imagine... as soon as the stage surged with life, that radiant presence and glorious sound--all pettiness must be forgotten. That is *not* to say I felt a tangible camaraderie with my fellow Springsteen lovers. Although you share that space and you're singing at the top of your lungs with these strangers, it's not necessarily about a community with each other, it's more about taking it all in. Truly, everyone is so absorbed with the Big Show, it's not exactly Rancid at First Avenue. But that's OK. Because, as you look around you (which you are bound to do: the lights are bright, as I mentioned) and above you, to the rafters, it becomes a point of visual interest: EVERYONE is fucking INTO it. Everyone has their arms in the air, their fists pumping. People are dancing, they're bopping, they're hopping--we're talking ages 8 to 83 (and you know I ain't kiddin'). Every face you see is covered by a child-like grin, and, most importantly, everyone is totally absorbed with the show. With the man himself and that hard-working, dazzling rock band that works their collective ass off, along side him.

The set itself was a work of art. Springsteen kicked it into high gear right away using his standard, pulse-affirming shout, "Is there anybodayy ALIVE out there!!!????" that he usually waits for at least an hour before pulling out. Of course it was appropriate due to the song "Radio Nowhere" where he finally uses his Phrase in a song. Perfect.

But, I think something else happened for me. It was, I can safely say, the most *intense*, emotionally powerful experiences I have EVER had seeing Bruce Springsteen. (and that's saying a lot.)

It just might be the political climate (uh, yeah). It might be because the last time I saw the E Street Band, it was Vote For Change and since then, things got a lot worse. This time was a muthafuckin' RECKONING, as they say... The whole show, Bruce seemed very aware and almost taken aback by the crowds unprecedented hunger and appreciation. He actually said, "We didn't expect all this FUSS!" which to me meant, "We sure didn't expect Minnesota to act like New fucking Jersey!" And, despite Patti's absence (total bummer!) Bruce seemed in lifted spirits. He was grinning like a kid, and totally *flirty* with the ladies in the crowd! Making the eyes at 'em, raising those eyebrows and shit! Cute.

There was more Strummer-like *anger* in Bruce than I had ever seen before. When he spat out "Badlands" and he sang one of my fave lines of all time: "it ain't no sin to be glad you're alive," it had more URGENCY than ever before. The crowd ate it up. They were fucking starving and rabid for it. When he hit us with that carefully constructed (that's why it's not TOTALLY punk...) whammy of "The Rising," into "Last to Die," into "Long Walk Home," into "Badlands," it was a straight-up narrative that spoke to every person in that arena. It addressed the last 6 years of American life we have been entrenched in and watching in horror...like nothing else can: with forceful, poetic language, killer rock music and 19, 000 "regular" people *participating* in the musical act of art meets political rally. As he always says, *we* get to *join* Bruce and the band in concert. We're part of it.

And as I saw Bruce sweat, spit, blow snot forcefully out of his nose and bite into a wet sponge to douse his neck and quench his thirst quickly, I thought, yeah--Bruce is total punk as fuck, dude. There just ain't no doubt about it. I mean, I always knew that he loved the Clash and Stummer loved Springsteen, but here it was the clearest I had seen. Jim punched me in the arm (as he tends to do..that punk) and just looked at me wide-eyed and said "Strummer. So Strummer."

Yeah, yeah, I know I said that about seeing Madge, too. But it's so true. It's attitude and the key elements I NEED in a concert that changes me and my outlook on life: *sweaty, bouncy, glee* as it's happening--just being involved in that passionate, purposeful music that's a blast to move your body to. Fucking pogo, please. (Bruce did! Jim and I took great delight in that)

Back to that set list... lordy, was it a trip to hear those opening, rat-a-tat-tat drums by Max explode into "Night"! I don't think I had ever seen them do it, I love that damn song. And...it's hard to admit this..."Dancing in the Dark," following the exuberant, full-on crowd participatory-lights-on-"Born to Run," was sheer BRILLIANCE. I could not deny its pop power. The way people were dancing, *gleefully* like fools just cannot be beat, I tell ya. I've had a new outlook on that song ever since I saw Ted Leo do it at First Ave, anyway. Makes me happy. And, I really didn't think it was possible...but...when I looked over at Fitzy and saw him pumping his fist in the air to "Badlands," or smiling in awe, or dancing up a storm...I think I fell in love with him AND Bruce's music just a lil' more.

Oh, and then there was "Thunder Road." Used to be my fave song of all time. Only the second time he's played it on this tour. It was a "request" he told us. A young woman (alone...like several other beautiful woman around us) next to me kept rubbing her arm. Her goosebumps just wouldn't go away. She wasn't alone with that problem.

At the bitter end, Bruce shouted, "Long live happiness!" and it seemed unscripted. It was, of course, exactly what everyone was thinking as they stumbled out, sweaty and dazed... re-energized to face the real world and all its troubles...and just ...happy.

here's the full Setlist:

Radio Nowhere
No Surrender
Lonesome Day
Gypsy Biker
Magic
Reason to Believe
Night
She's the One
Livin' in the Future
The Promised Land
Your Own Worst Enemy
Incident on 57th Street
Working on the Highway
Devil's Arcade
The Rising
Last to Die
Long Walk Home
Badlands
* * *
Girls in Their Summer Clothes
Thunder Road
Born to Run
Dancing in the Dark
American Land

....

2007-11-03T08:35:00.000-07:00

Life changing...as always.

Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band made me glad to be alive like almost NOTHING else in this world can.

here's what Backstreets had to say, for starters: (my words to follow soon)

11/2, ST. PAUL
A fun, high-energy show for a great crowd in the Twin Cities, which went nuts when necessary and quiet when called for (and it was called for, Bruce shushing the crowd a few times for the "Reason to Believe" harp intro). A bunch of teenagers were right up front, and Springsteen seemed to be having a great time playing to them. Basically, it was a classic example of what Bruce means when he talks about the crowd and performer being "in concert": He was into the crowd, they were into him, and they just fed off each other. Setlist-wise, nothing to raise eyebrows, no tour premieres... but "Incident on 57th Street" was an amazing performance, they played the pants off it. Garry Tallent in particular was a wonder to behold as the song's solid bedrock. Going from "Incident" into the all-out goofiness of "Working on the Highway" was the epitome of "from the sublime to the ridiculous"... but it worked. Garry even stepped up for backing vocals on "Highway" -- go Funky!

Other notables: "Gypsy Biker" was an early stand-out, as was "Reason." No Patti tonight, so Soozie once again took over the "Magic" duet. And "Thunder Road" still has life in it yet, played by "special request" -- with Bruce wielding the Fender Esquire from there into "Born to Run." Kudos to management and security at the Xcel Center for a phenomenal job with the GA process; especially considering there were 1,135 fans wristbanded for the lottery, the entry was organized, orderly, safe and smooth. That certainly didn't hurt the vibe in the arena. "Thank you, Twin Cities. You've been a fantastic audience," Bruce said at the close of the show, and he offered a benediction: "Long live happiness!" And as the lights came up and fans read what was on the screens, there was one more thing to be happy about: "Bruce returns March 16. Tickets on sale November 10 at 10 a.m."

Live Zeppelin...in a way

2007-11-01T14:07:00.000-07:00

I got a shock of a night for Halloween. An extremely pleasant one.

Fitzy and I saw Gov't Mule at the O'Shaughnessy last night and there was buzz that one of their sets was going to be the Zep album, "Houses of the Holy" played all the way through.

(!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!??????????)

I was so not expecting that.

Now, I'd heard some of those brilliant Phish Halloween album-cover-tributes before...and I had always wanted to experience a band playing an entire album the whole way through...LIVE. Granted, the first time I saw the Who the were doing their "Quadrophenia" tour. That was quite a thrill... My only real other whole-album-straight-through would be the magical experience I had of seeing my friend John play with a hodge-podge of musicians from the local bands Self Evident and (his old band) Align crank out The Police's "Synchronicity" in a dingy basement. I still bore my loved ones with that tired (but close to my musical heart) story.

Anyway--sure enough, as the second set began, the Mule busted out "The Song Remains the Same," and...I shit you not...Warren Haynes did his very best Robert Plant impression and...I was impressed. Now, he didn't *sound* like him, exactly--he just did the songs (and Mr. Plant) justice. Rock and roll justice. Also, standing beside Haynes was a tall, lanky feller with a curly fro. He was doing an AMAZING Jimmy Page guitar tribute, my friends. Those ever-so-familiar songs (that have been imprinted in my brain since the age of 14, mind you) are like gospel to me and man, did this guy know his shit. I just kept thinking, this guy must've *learned* to play the fucking guitar to Zeppelin records. For real. So, I had to tap the shoulder of the headbanging gentleman in front of me to find out who the fuck this guitar prodigy was. It was a name I had never heard before and what a name it is: Audley Freed of Black Crowes fame. Mr. Freed continued to amaze and dazzle and later Haynes told the crowd that he had flown in just to play that set for us and that was that. Dang.

I was a happy fucking camper. It was pure joy to see those songs on a theatre stage as intimate as O'Shaughnessy's and I took delight in singing along with every word and flailing my hair as much as possible.

Now...can we get the Lads to do "London Calling"? Who can I put a request in to for that...?

P.S. Tomorrow... I see Bruce Springsteen. 'Nuff said.

saying it brilliantly

2007-10-22T13:11:00.000-07:00

Entertainment Weekly does it again. Damn. I am such a sucker for that rag.

Just picked up the latest ish and there was this lovely piece on "My So Called Life." (The complete 6-disc set is out now. Uh-oh.) It made me smile...it made me revisit the devastating age of 13...oy.

I love how Mr. Tucker *perfectly* makes the allusion to Salinger's Catcher in the Rye..."a portrait of adolescence." Both Salinger and MSCL's Winnie Holzman possess that gift that certain adult writers have of -going back- to their own youth and pulling out those inner monologues that ring true for both the young and the old(er?)...He also touches on how the style of the show may have turned people off (I still know peeps my age who just didn't dig it the way me and my MSCL-head friends did) because it was not plot-driven, but instead was "designed to be a fluid mood piece." Oh, and dig that dreamy lede. Fuck yeah.

Have at it:

DVD Review My So-Called Life: The Complete Series (2002)

LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL

[above]Claire Danes and Jared Leto in My So-Called Life; the show that turned teen angst into poetic TV drama retains its moody appeal on DVD
By Ken Tucker

''I'm in love. His name is Jordan Catalano. He was left back. Twice. Once I almost touched his shoulder in the middle of a pop quiz.''

These are some of the finest lines ever composed in the history of television, in their context. That context was My So-Called Life, which ran for 19 episodes on ABC, and now stands, in the six-disc My So-Called Life: The Complete Series collection, as a portrait of adolescence equal to J.D. Salinger's The Catcher in the Rye or any other meditation on this most evanescent formative period of life.

MSCL was executive-produced by Marshall Herskovitz and Ed Zwick (the pair who'd previously given us thirtysomething), but the series' true author was Winnie Holzman, who wrote the pilot, penned many subsequent episodes, and maintained creative quality control. Holzman had her 15-year-old protagonist, Angela Chase (Claire Danes), speak, via voice-over narration, the lines I quoted up top; in the pilot, she's gazing dreamily at Jared Leto's Jordan, a sensitive bad boy who doesn't even know the intelligent, radiant, but shy Angela exists. The yearning in those words, the ache in Danes' voice, let you know this was a perfect conjoining of subject and actress, and that Holzman and Danes were going to take you on a painful, familiar, exhilarating journey...and then MSCL was canceled by ABC after a mere single season.

The fact that book-smart Angela is drawn to a ne'er-do-well like Jordan — that he will be the unconscious catalyst for rebelling against her parents (the amazingly subtle Bess Armstrong and Tom Irwin) and for seeking out new, offbeat friends (the beguilingly quirky A.J. Langer and Wilson Cruz) — dramatizes the push and pull of teen angst. The show's ratings doubtless suffered in part because it wasn't plot-heavy; rather, it was designed to be a fluid mood piece. The genius of MSCL was that it permitted Angela to remain as self-absorbed as any average teen, while opening up subplots for the parents' own arrested-adolescent struggles. And the series was positively revolutionary in its nuanced depiction of Cruz's Rickie, a gay teen who was alternately effusive and despairing. (See what Cruz told EW.com recently about his experiences working on My So-Called Life.)

The extras include the mini-doc ''My So-Called Life Story'' and commentaries on six episodes, the best being an analysis of the pilot by Holzman, Herskovitz, and director Scott Winant. Danes, now shimmeringly adult, provides both an audio commentary and a separate, candid interview. Many young performers are anxious to leave their early work behind, but Danes recognizes what an extraordinary experience she had in her first starring role, and seems to treasure it as much as we do. A

Saturday Record Shopping Ritual Revisited

2007-10-21T19:24:00.000-07:00

Recently I have been missing...and craving the ol' ritualistic record hunt that I used to religiously perform every Saturday with E-Beth and Erica. It was something we each *had* to do (weekly) and could always share our nerdy enthusiasm with each other, unashamed.

Since I became smitten with Fitzy (and Saturdays used to be the only *day* we could spend together ...once upon a time), and since my two coffee-clatching, musichead buddies have since skipped town, I have neglected my need and have only sporadically purchased music in the store, proper.

But this week I realized I had the pocket change to splurge and get the drugs I needed. Fitzy joyfully accompanied me on my mission and I scored 5 discs and one piece of vinyl!

Oh, and to address you, mystery blogger: one of my purchases included the phenomenal "Naturally" by Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings. Fitzy had just acquired his fave single of late, "How Long Do I Have to Wait for You?", had me hear it that morning and we danced. And I fell in love with it, and knew I had to buy it that day along with these other treasures:

The new Dan Wilson, "Free Life." Natch.

The 'Mats "Don't You Know Who I Think I Was?" Just cuz. I got the fever and I never properly owned the two new singles. Right.

Grace Potter & the Nocturnals, "This is Somewhere." I know I was superfucking lazy about writing about Austin...Grace Potter and her boyfriends (ha) were one of those pleasant surprises of a festival find. Soulful vocals, wailing guitar solos and scorching sexual stage chemistry -- I had to follow up.

Gov't Mule, "Mighty High." They headline a show with Grace on Halloween! Homework (the best kind.)

The vinyl? Arctic Monkeys (shocked?) 10" single for "Fluorescent Adolescent" which contains three (!) songs I have never heard. Righteous.

music is power

2007-10-18T11:26:00.000-07:00

This morning on the bus, a young Somali woman (with a bright red headscarf) has was sporting a gray AC/DC hoodie.

I couldn't keep the grin from spreading on my face.

----
Meanwhile, my iPod has been so fucking comforting (as always, I guess) on these rainy, gloomy mornings. I have been loving the latest Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings record, "100 Days, 100 Nights." She is dynamite and that band is so stellar--straight up James Brown, working crew of musicians--ellos en fuego. I kept wanting more after hearing their stuff on the Current. And then I read this piece about her in the Times. It got me *needing* the record. It's funky, soulful "throw-back" style R&B with a hint of gospel. They achieve that magic, though--that kind of magic that makes throw-back sound fresh. I so dig the record's packaging, too. Ms. Jones (former prison guard at Rikers Island New York), in all her short, packed, stacked glory is decked out in a 60s-style, gold lamé lookin' gown--striking a pose. The CD looks like vinyl and the astrological signs of each Dap-King are listed after stating which instrument they play. Love it.

Speaking of the beloved Current, Mary Lucia just had Dan Wilson on this week to play and promo his new solo record. The two of them sounded like ol' buds and he played one of my most favorite songs of the past year, "Easy Silence." I was lucky enough to see him play it in a very un-crowded Hoot, last spring. He introduced it as a song he "wrote with the Dixie Chicks" and I really didn't know what to expect. I dig the Chicks, actually, but didn't know what it was gonna be. I certainly didn't expect to cry like a 'little bitch,' which is exactly what I did. It was *so* intimate, *so* quietly powerful, it blew me away. It was partly those Chicks' lyrics, I guess--but I think what caused me to produce tears was the eloquent *melody,* it cut right to the bone. Dan Wilson has one of those rare, *perfect* pop voices that remains rich and full even in the most quiet circumstances. He also has a knack for writing ridiculously catchy, insidious hooks that latch themselves on to you immediately and stay there for-freakin'-ever.

This is another one of those--the melody is pretty, simple and infectious.

Easy Silence

by Dan Wilson, Natalie Maines, Martie Maguire and Emily Robison

When the calls and conversations Accidents and accusations
Messages and misperceptions
Paralyze my mind
Buses, cars, and airplanes leavin'
Burnin' fumes of gasoline and
Everyone is running and I
Come to find a refuge in the

Easy silence that you make for me
It's ok when there's nothing more to say to me
And the peaceful quiet you create for me
And the way you keep the world at bay for me
The way you keep the world at bay

Monkeys on the barricades
Are warning us to back away
They form commissions trying to find
The next one they can crucify
And anger plays on every station
Answers only make more questions
I need something to believe in

Breathing sanctuary in the
Easy silence that you make for me
It's ok when there's nothing more to say to me
And the peaceful quiet you create for me
And the way you keep the world at bay for me
The way you keep the world at bay

Children lose their youth too soon
Watching war made us immune
And I've got all the world to lose
But I just want to hold on to the

Easy silence that you make for me
It's ok when there's nothing more to say to me
And the peaceful quiet you create for me
And the way you keep the world at bay for me
The easy silence that you make for me
It's ok when there's nothing more to say to me
And the peaceful quiet you create for me
And the way you keep the world at bay for me
The way you keep the world at bay for me
The way you keep the world at bay

to honor Fitzy

2007-10-12T13:38:00.000-07:00

(it's his b-day today)

AND he happened to write a fucking *SUPERB* re-telling of our ACL Day 2 Expereince.

I am shamed and refuse to write about it, now.

Check this shit out:

Wednesday, September 26, 2007
ACL Festival Day 2
The Ike Reiily Assassanation is a band that, whenever possible, doesn't hit the stage until after midnight, so when I saw that the IRA would be performing a noon set at ACL, I was both thrilled and appalled. Granted, the other bands slated to play the days bigger slots probably had more fans than the Chicago five piece group, but Ike's brand of rock and roll is faster and more rowdy and more deserving of late night billing than most. So, being a smaller fish in a pond of...well, whales, Ike's band was relegated to an all too brief half hour set to kick off Day 2 of ACL. Arriving at the festival just before noon on Saturday, there was already a crowd of a couple hundred dedicated and excited fans hovering around the Ausin Ventures stage where the IRA would soon tear through a handful of songs. There we sat waiting in the hot sun for them to start, and when the band started it was apparent that these were tried and true Ike fans. Many people sang along, and after the set flew by, the band was out in the crowd socializing with old freinds who made the trip from the Chicago area and meeting old fans for the first time who said things like "I saw you guys for the first time in New York a few years ago and have been a huge fan ever since." We were hoping we'd get to spend some quality time backstage with the one band we had connections to at the festival, but alas, the IRA had their first ever gig in Mexico that very same night and couldn't stick around. So we said our goodbyes and dove into some shade.

After a little break from the sun, we saw a bit of the set from former Mavericks frontman Raul Malo. The Mavericks were a pretty cool honkytonk country band with a bit of a Latin flavor. My favorite songs by them were "What a Cryin Shame" and "Oh What a Thrill". Unfortunately, he didnt play either of those songs. But, he did cover a Dwight Yokum number called "It only Hurts Me When I Cry". Very uplifting indeed. This was really cool because I had seen Raul's voice compared to Dwight's before, and Mr. Yokum is one of my favorite country artists. He also sang that "Besame Mucho" (kiss me much) song that Sanjaya sang on American Idol. Sadly, that is the only way I know that song, which I probably should not admit, but it's true. Again, the diversity of bands at this festival was astonishing. This particular act drew out thousands of older country music fans and their children. In Fact, this was by far the most kid-friendly festival I have ever been to, and not only did parents bring their youngsters, but they allowed their tweeniebopper kids to go to the festival also, as there were thosands of fresh faced youngsters wandering around in packs.

The legendary Soul Stirrers were next on our agenda, and they were absolutely fantastic. Hailing from a small town in Texas, the band has undergone many lineup changes since they started out around the year 1930 (not a typo!). They were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1989, and are the only Gospel quartet that can boast of that honor. Once fronted by the late great Sam Cooke, this is a band that had Christians and athiests alike praising the power of music. Soul, gospel, faith and emotion came togehter masterfully when Willie Rogers, the current leader of the Soul Stirrers belted out "A Change Gonna Come" after paying tribute to the man who wrote that brilliant preotest anthem, Sam Cooke. Rogers displayed more soul in his singing than anyone I had ever seen, and it was inspirational to be in the prescence of a group that has had so much impact and positive influence on several generations of muscicians. Another highlight from their set was when Wille Rogers left the stage to start a train of fans around while leading a rousing rendition of "When the Saints Go Marching In".

Stephen Marley, the second son of Bob, was already playing on the main stage when the Soul Stirrers finished. He has got to have one of the biggest, most genuine and contagious smiles of anyone I have ever seen. Maybe it was all the Ganja being openly smoked throughout the crowd, but the energy surrounding the stage and the music was overwhelmingly optimistic and positive. Stephen sang some of his fathers most poignant and well known reggae classics like "No Woman, No Cry", "Jammin", and "Could You Be Loved", along with lesser known gems like "Punky Reggae Party" and "Duppy Conquerer". Back over in the Revival Tent where the Soul Stirrers had just played, New Jersey bluegrass outfit Railroad Earth were sawing away on fiddles and various other stringed instruments. Packing the tent to the gills with their east coast take on bluegrass, RRE is a really fun band to see and were the one band I had already seen earlier in the year, at 10KLF back home in Minnesota.

Next we very briefly watched a very old and tattered looking Steve Earle, but it wasn't all that great so we moved on and tried to get a good spot for what was our most anticipated show of the day, Arctic Monkeys. When the White Stripes, who were scheduled to be Saturday night's headliners, cancelled at the last moment due to Meg White's "Acute Anxiety", we, along with thousands of other fans, were very disapointed, but with so many other great bands playing, it was easy to get over that and instead focus on what we would be seeing.

Arctic Monkeys were origianlly going to be palying head to head against Muse, another English band that is far bigger overseas than they are here. Unlike Arctic Monkeys though, Muse had played the ACL festival before, and had impressed the important people enough that instead of playing their set at the same time as Arctic Monkeys, they were invited to fill in for The White Stripes on the Main Stage a couple hours later. What this meant for Arctic Monkeys is that there really was no other significant act playing at the same time, so by default thousands of extra people came to see what all the fuss over these young lads was about, altough it was clear that many of the people in the crowd had never even heard of Arctic Monkeys. "Where are they from?" one young man in the audience asked another. "England?" his buddy responded unsurely. Allow me to ever so briefly recap the Arctic Monkeys rise to international (but not American) prominence. Following what many called a "deafening buzz" on the internet about the band, their debut album sold an unbeleivable 118,000 copies in the first day and beat the Beatles to become the fast selling album in UK history. Since then they have continued to grow in popularity around the world, and when their second album came out in May of this year to critical and popular accalim, they were cemented as leaders of England's new school. Arctic Monkeys have been touring to support the new record, full of Alex Turner's clever wordsmithing and the unique sonic experience of thundering drums and quick, heavy guitar riffs, and this year they have headlined the biggest fetivals in Europe like the legendary Glastonbury Festival. Back in Austin Texas, however, Arctic Monkeys were seen by many as a bunch of overhyped young foreigners, and not given much of a chance. I can symapthize a little bit. Their sound is so different from anything else out there, and the lyrics are so quick and insightful that they may seem pretentious, or just incomprehensible, to the uninitiated. Turner sings (or does he speak/rap?) with a strong accent and his British slang is often jumbled to make it difficult to decifer, but he is a genius of observation and has a very dry, fast moving sense of humor to go along with the pace of the set and songs.

Fresh from headlining Englands 35 year old masterpiece of culture, Glastonbury, it was clear that these young musicians were not used to this kind of uninterested, dissmissive crowd. Glasto, as its known overseas, sells out its 160,000 tickets in minutes, but here the energy level in the crowd was unbelievably low. Alex pressed on with the set and managed to keep a sense of humor about the whole thing. It was almost dusk, and when the sun began to fade for the night, you could feel the collective sense of relief as it cooled down to a more comfortable temperature. "Can you cheer up a bit now, the sun's gone down?" Alex said, and I remarked that he was probably up on stage thinking to himself "What a bunch of cranky wankers!" Then without warning they launched into a song proclaiming "They say it changes when the sun goes down around here...". These are some of the coolest picures ive ever taken, the way that the clouds were parting as the set came to a close, allowing the sun to break through and shed some proverbial light on the Arctic Monkeys, as if to illuminate their presence to the thousands of unimpressed onlookers. It was fantastic. I wished so much that everyone at that show could have felt the same way I did, like I was witnessing the landmark gig for the Arctic Monkeys in America. This was perhaps their biggest stage yet in America, for though they have played on SNL, Letterman, and have made other t.v. appearances, this seemed like it could be the breakout performance that had people in America buzzing about them.

Absolutley knackered after that intense show, it was time for a brief break before heading over to what would be another highlight of the weekend, Muse. Muse just opened the new Wembley Field in England with a two night stand, and here at ACL, they rocked my fucking face off. More than any other band in recent memory, I was astonished at how cool they sounded, and they are only a three piece band. The stage show was equally mind-bending. It was face melting area rock complete with a full visual assault from two jumbotrons. There were colors floating from the stage as the band laid waste to thousands of unsuspecting fans who probably thought there was something of an ordinary rockshow in store for them. Maybe it was the blaring sun we had to contend with all day that had everyone feeling wiped out, but it looked like many of those people who were leaving the main stage long before Muse's set finished simply could not take the assault on the senses anymore. the visual effects were stunning. At one point I turned to Brianna and just to clarify asked, "They *are* bending time and space right now, aren't they?" I really wanna explore that crazy band and delve into them a bit, they were fascinating. These are not my videos, but they give an idea of what the show was like. Whew, as I said, I was blown away by these guys and it was an awesome treat because I knew absolutely nothing about them going into the show and had no idea what to expect. We had survived another insanely hot day in Texas, and still had an entire day of music to go.

John Kerry/Bruce Springsteen

2007-10-11T14:51:00.000-07:00

This is it. The song [see below] on "Magic" that made it happen for me. It nestled its way into my brain and it took hold, and it won't let go. KILLER hook and fucking powerful use of Kerry's testimony and Bruce's knack for making *pop*/rock songs about shit that matters: war, death, real/flawed love and people's lives. Using the Vietnam ref in a song about Iraq works, for obvious reasons, but it's the Kerry + Springsteen connection that hits me so hard every time I hear it...I think of Vote for Change and how relevant it was then. Now, it's almost 4 years later and we're in a *worse* spot. Makes me sick. But, as always, Bruce is there. By asking us to join him in his disgust and rage and then to party to the pop--it makes us not forget or ignore the horrors that exist, but to keep the sanity. And, I have FINALLY realized that all of "Magic" is doing just that and the show on Nov. 2nd will be the most cathartic therapy one could hope for.

P.S. "Anger can be power/do you know that you can use it?" also applies....Strummer, wish you were here.)

Here's that killer:

LAST TO DIE
Album's version

We took the highway till the road went black
We'd marked, Truth Or Consequences on our map*
A voice drifted up from the radio
And I thought of a voice from long ago

Who'll be the last to die for a mistake
The last to die for a mistake
Whose blood will spill, whose heart will break
Who'll be the last to die for a mistake

The kids asleep in the backseat
We're just counting the miles, you and me
We don't measure the blood we've drawn anymore
We just stack the bodies outside the door

Who'll be the last to die for a mistake
The last to die for a mistake
Whose blood will spill, whose heart will break
Who'll be the last to die for a mistake

The wise men were all fools, what to do

The sun sets in flames as the city burns
Another day gone down as the night turns
And I hold you here in my heart
As things fall apart

A downtown window flushed with light
"Faces of the dead at five" (faces of the dead at five)
Our martyr's silent eyes
Petition the drivers as we pass by

Who'll be the last to die for a mistake
The last to die for a mistake
Whose blood will spill, whose heart will break
Who'll be the last to die

Who'll be the last to die for a mistake
The last to die for a mistake
Darlin' your tyrants and kings fall to the same fate
Strung up at your city gates
And you're the last to die for a mistake

ACLF Highlights (apologies for the delay..there is more to come)

2007-10-05T10:39:00.000-07:00

Austin was magical. We were able to make the most of our time there and I really do dig the city. But, I gotta tell you, MPLS still kicks Austin's butt when it comes to a *cool* music town--of course, I'm superduper biased...but still.

I must say that the festival boasted some of the most rabid, passionate music lovers I have ever stood next to at shows. I think I saw the most musical tattoos in those three days than I have ever seen in my life. It was also the most international festival I'd ever been to--the line-up and the fans were from all over the globe. I admit it, I closed my eyes and dreamed I was at Glasto a few times. Afterall, the headliners at Glasto: Arctic Monkeys, Bjork and the Killers were all at ACL. C'mon! Incredible. Our very own Euro festival.

I actually got to have a quick chat with a bloke from Manchester (!!) who had been to Glasto this year. I spotted him sitting in the shade, where I was headed (the heat was brutal), and he looked like he was in rough shape. Nursing a beer, no water in sight, his face was the same color as his crimson White Stripes shirt. He was speaking to some kids about his defiant White Stripes-shirt-wearing "statement" (they canceled, as you may have heard--a huge disappointment to him and the rest of us) and that distinctive Northern accent hit my ears like a familiar song. To my sheer delight, he told me how the Glasto crowd (yep, all 177,500 of 'em, my friend) sang *every word* of those lyrics along with Alex Turner. He called Turner a "young genius with words" and then stated, very matter-of-factly: "They're the best band since The Smiths." This coming from a Mancunian! Nice.

The heat was rough for me, I admit it. Any time there was a low point for shows, I wanted to retreat to the shade or the glorious, misting fans that were scattered throughout the park. Fitzy and I kept remarking about how well-run and organized the festival and was. There was hardly a moment that we had to wait in line too long, or felt overwhelmed by the crowd. Bottled water was $2, which is downright cheap in the festival world. And I can actually only cite a few times(during the sets of The Killers and Ziggy Marley) that made me feel crazy-claustrophobic-like. We mainly stuck to "Our Side" of the stage, which meant where ever the masses *weren't* flocking to. This worked beautifully. For big, headlining acts like Bjork, Bloc Party, Bob Dylan and more, we were able to get extremely close to the stage and have a great perspective with lots of room to breathe. Ahhh, it was niiice.

Now, on to the music.....

Bloc Party was, unfortunately, my biggest disappointment--and I still generally enjoyed what I saw of their set. (Maybe it had something to do with their time slot--4 in the afternoon, the hottest muthafucking hour of the day. oy.) I have loved their two records and listened to them a million times. I've poured over reviews of shows and interviews with them in the NME and Q. Maybe it's just the ol' Alex Turner truth: anticipation has a habit to set you up for disappointment (I'm *kinda* experiencing that a bit with the new Springsteen album right now, believe it or not...I'm confident this will change after repeated listens, of course. A-hem. Right.) So, although Kele was handsome, charming and in great spirits ("Howdy, y'all!! We're not gon' let a bit of sun and heat get in the way of having fun, now are we!?" he enthused in his clipped Brit accent) the rest of the band seemed bored and it showed in their playing. The sound was muddled and I never fucking say this, but I felt that....it wasn't *loud* enough!

So, I made a quick decision. This was one of the worst double time slots for me--Lucinda Williams was playing concurrently at the opposite side of the park. I knew we had to make a dash for it. I wanted to see her in a very bad way but my logic was: I had seen her before (at First Ave, it was incredible) and her new material has been too downy clowny for me...I had never seen Bloc Party--the choice was clear. But, their set was lacking, so I made my way over to the sweet sounds of Lucinda. She was drinky, rockin and wearing a "U.S. vs. John Lennon" t-shirt (with the classic, "WAR IS OVER if you want it" cover her back). Most excellent. As we were heading over, I heard the familiar guitar and bass lines of...the Doors' "Riders on the Storm"!!! So kick-ass for a festival, I thought. Later, she made some rambling, but well-intended anti-war statements and had a particularly spicy dig at organized religion before she played the "Gotta Serve Somebody"-esque "Get Right With God."

Speaking of gettin' saved...Fitzy and I were lucky enough bear witness to the Legendary Soul Stirrers in a revival-like setting--the one and only hot, crowded tent. Formed in 1927 (I shit you not) they were the gospel/soul group that Sam Cooke belonged to before he went secular and made the music we mainly associate him with. Willie Rogers, the lead vocalist nowadays, was *the* most moving, passionate, *soulful* vocal performers I have ever seen and heard. As soon as he mentioned Mr. Cooke and began to sing, "A Change Is Gonna Come," I was...gone.

I cried like a little bitch, man.

***I had to just post this, so I will be inspired to *finish* telling the tale. So, obviously, there's more to follow.........***

couldn't believe my eyes...

2007-09-28T09:46:00.000-07:00

Is this a dream?
Whoa. My *fave* Arts writer....My *fave* musician...

Springsteen, interviewed by Times *movie* critic, Tony Scott. Crazy awesome. Dig how much of a fan he is and I love the light self-deprecation about his yuppie (or...older-uppie?) lifestyle and how it juxtaposes with Springsteen themes. The fan-dom is especially touching when he comes right out and states, "I spent my teenage years in the thrall of punk rock and its various aftermaths and came to Springsteen late, past the stage of life when his great anthems of romance, rebellion and escape might have had their most direct impact. As a result, I associate his work with the sorrows and satisfactions of adulthood; it’s music to grow up to, not out of. "

Of course. Tony loved punk. And, of course, he verbalizes exactly how I feel...sigh.

Even more exciting, he says the new one, "Magic," is "musically, one of the most upbeat, accessible records he has made, even as its themes and stories make it one of his most political."

Chills....

September 30, 2007

In Love With Pop, Uneasy With the World
By A. O. SCOTT
Asbury Park, N.J.
IT was the last day of summer, but on the boardwalk here it seemed more like a perfect morning in early July: the Atlantic Ocean sparkled under a cloudless sky; the humid air was soothed by a soft, salty breeze. I looked down the empty beach, past the souvenir shops and snack bars with their fresh paint and new green awnings, toward the proud Victorian hulk of the old Casino, and felt that I had walked into a Bruce Springsteen song. (Oh, I don’t know. Maybe “Fourth of July, Asbury Park.” Or is that too obvious?)

The feeling, no less potent for being self-induced, had been with me all morning. Bright and early, me and my girl — my wife of nearly two decades, that is — had let the screen door slam, dropped off the kids at school and set out on the open road, blowing through the E-ZPass lanes on the Garden State Parkway in our Volvo station wagon. We had an advance copy of Mr. Springsteen’s new album, “Magic,” in the CD slot, and most of his back catalog in reserve on the iPod. And now we were driving down Kingsley, figuring we’d get a latte. One more chance to make it real. Tramps like us, baby!

Our purpose was not to fantasize but rather to observe the E Street Band in rehearsal, and then to hear what the man himself had to say about the new record, the coming tour and whatever else was on his mind. “Magic” is, musically, one of the most upbeat, accessible records he has made, even as its themes and stories make it one of his most political. Once again he is hitting the road as a presidential election heats up.

“I like coming out on those years,” he would tell me later, when we sat down to talk in a backstage dressing room after the rehearsal. “Whatever small little bit we can do, that’s a good time to do it.”

At an age when most rock ’n’ rollers, if they’re still alive, have become either tributes to or parodies of their earlier selves, Mr. Springsteen seems to have settled into an enviable groove, with new musical forms to explore and an existing body of work that never seems to get old, with plenty to say and an audience that hangs on his every word.

In which — as if it weren’t already obvious — I include myself. I’ve been listening to Bruce Springsteen for a long time, but I can’t pretend that he provided the soundtrack for my youth. I spent my teenage years in the thrall of punk rock and its various aftermaths and came to Springsteen late, past the stage of life when his great anthems of romance, rebellion and escape might have had their most direct impact. As a result, I associate his work with the sorrows and satisfactions of adulthood; it’s music to grow up to, not out of.

Mr. Springsteen’s best songs, it seems to me, are about compromise and stoicism; disappointment and faith; work, patience and resignation. They are also, frequently — even the ones he wrote when he was still in his 20s — about nostalgia, about the desire to recapture those fleeting moments of intensity and possibility we associate with being young.
Moments that tend, not coincidentally, to crystallize within a certain kind of popular song. A song, let’s say, like “Girls in Their Summer Clothes,” which arrives smack in the middle of “Magic” and which the E Street Band was in the middle of playing when my wife and I tiptoed through the doors of the Asbury Park Convention Hall. It was a little after 10; the band was about an hour into its morning rehearsal, preparing for a tour of North America and Europe that kicks off on Tuesday in Hartford.

The Convention Hall is a battered, pocket-size arena where, as a teenager, Mr. Springsteen saw bands like the Who and the Doors. This morning it was filled with a shimmery, summery sound, as if we had traveled back 40 years into the mid-’60s sonic landscape of Phil Spector, Brian Wilson and the Byrds. Steve van Zandt was strumming a 12-string guitar, and the vocal harmonies, the chiming keyboards, Clarence Clemons’s saxophone and Soozie Tyrell’s violin combined to produce a lush orchestral cushion for Mr. Springsteen’s voice, which swooned through a lyric as unabashedly romantic as the song’s title.

“I wanted one thing on the record that was the perfect pop universe,” Mr. Springsteen said, once the band had wandered off and he had finished an early lunch of granola with fresh fruit and soy milk. It was two days before his 58th birthday, and he looked trimmer and tanner than he had the last time I’d seen him, which was on the JumboTron video screen at Giants Stadium a few years back. “You know, that day when it’s all right there; it’s the world that only exists in pop songs, and once in a while you stumble on it.”

Not that “Girls in Their Summer Clothes” is untouched by melancholy. Its narrator, after all, stands and watches as the girls of the title “pass me by.” “It’s the longing, the unrequited longing for that perfect world,” Mr. Springsteen continued. “Pop is funny. It’s a tease. It’s an important one, but it’s a tease, and therein resides its beauty and its joke.”

And much of “Magic,” on first hearing, seems to unfold in a similar spirit. There is a brightness of sound and a lightness of touch that are not quite like anything else Mr. Springsteen has done recently. In the past five years he has released four albums of original material, a zigzag through new and familiar styles and idioms. “The Rising” (2002) brought the E Street Band back into the studio after a long hiatus (their sound updated by the producer Brendan O’Brien) and answered the trauma of 9/11 with the defiant, redemptive roar of solid, down-the-middle rock. With “Devils and Dust” (2005) Mr. Springsteen picked up the thread of Western stories and acoustic ballads that stretched back through other non-E Street projects like “The Ghost of Tom Joad” and “Nebraska” (as well as some parts of “The River”). “The Seeger Sessions,” released last year, was an old-time old-lefty hootenanny, with a big, unruly jug band rollicking through spirituals, union songs and Dust Bowl ballads.
All of those discs were infused with Mr. Springsteen’s bedrock populism, but none was quite what you would call a pop record. Pop, though, is the term he and his band mates use, again and again, to describe “Magic.” Mr. Van Zandt, who has been playing and arguing about music with Mr. Springsteen for 40 years (scholars cite Nov. 3, 1967, as the date of their first meeting), noted that in the past Mr. Springsteen’s more tuneful, playful compositions tended not to make it onto albums.

“It was nice on this one to start to be a little bit more inclusive,” he said in a telephone interview a few days after my visit to Asbury Park, “with a little bit more of the poppier side of things, without losing any of the integrity, or any of the high standards. That was a nice surprise, a nice change of pace to include those things and integrate them into the album, rather than having them be fun to record and then cast them aside.”

For his part, Mr. Sprinsteen said that in writing the songs for “Magic,” he had experienced “a reinfatuation with pop music.” “I went back to some forms that I either hadn’t used previously or hadn’t used a lot, which was actual pop productions,” he said. “I wrote a lot of hooks. That was just the way that the songs started to write themselves, I think because I felt free enough that I wasn’t afraid of the pop music. In the past I wanted to make sure that my music was tough enough for the stories I was going to tell.”

The paradox of “Magic” may be that some of its stories are among the toughest he has told. The album is sometimes a tease but rarely a joke. The title track, for instance, comes across as a seductive bit of carnival patter, something you might have heard on the Asbury Park boardwalk in the old days. A magician, his voice whispery and insinuating in a minor key, lures you in with descriptions of his tricks that grow more sinister with each verse. (“I’ve got a shiny saw blade/All I need’s a volunteer.”) “Trust none of what you hear/And less of what you see,” he warns. And the song’s refrain — “This is what will be” — grows more chilling as you absorb the rest of the album’s nuances and shadows.

You can always trust what you hear on a Bruce Springsteen record (irony, he notes, is not something he’s known for), but in this case it pays to listen closely, to make note of the darkness, so to speak, that hovers at the edge of the shiny hooks and harmonies. “I took these forms and this classic pop language and I threaded it through with uneasiness,” Mr. Springsteen said.

And while the songs on “Magic” characteristically avoid explicit topical references, there is no mistaking that the source of the unease is, to a great extent, political. The title track, Mr. Springsteen explained, is about the manufacture of illusion, about the Bush administration’s stated commitment to creating its own reality.

“This is a record about self-subversion,” he told me, about the way the country has sabotaged and corrupted its ideals and traditions. And in its own way the album itself is deliberately self-subverting, troubling its smooth, pleasing surfaces with the blunt acknowledgment of some rough, unpleasant facts.

“Magic” picks up where “The Rising” left off and takes stock of what has happened in this country since Sept. 11. Then, the collective experiences of grief and terror were up front. Now those same emotions lurk just below the surface, which means that the catharsis of rock ’n’ roll uplift is harder to come by. The key words of “The Rising” were hope, love, strength, faith, and they were grounded in a collective experience of mourning. There is more loneliness in “Magic,” and, notwithstanding the relaxed pop mood, a lot less optimism.
The stories told in songs like “Gypsy Biker” and “The Devil’s Arcade” are vignettes of private loss suffered by the lovers and friends of soldiers whose lives were shattered or ended in Iraq. “The record is a tallying of cost and of loss,” Mr. Springsteen said. “That’s the burden of adulthood, period. But that’s the burden of adulthood in these times, squared.”
In conversation, Mr. Springsteen has a lot to say about what has happened in America over the last six years: “Disheartening and heartbreaking. Not to mention enraging” is how he sums it up. But his most direct and powerful statement comes, as you might expect, onstage. It is not anything he says or sings, but rather a piece of musical dramaturgy, the apparently simple, technical matter of shifting from one song to the next.

On the Convention Hall stage, the band handled the new material as deftly as the chestnuts — after 35 years together, communication is pretty much effortless — pausing to work out an occasional kink or adjust the sound mix. But they must have gone over the segue from “The Rising” to their next number at least a half-dozen times.

“You’ve got to let that chord sustain. Everybody!” Mr. Springsteen urged. “It can’t die down.”

The guitarists had the extra challenge of keeping the sound going while changing instruments, a series of baton-relay sprints for the crew whose job was to assist with the switch, until a dissonant organ ring came in to signal a change of key and the thunderous opening of “Last to Die.” It’s not much of an exaggeration to say that Mr. Springsteen’s take on the post-9/11 history of the United States can be measured in the space between the choruses of those two songs. The audience is hurled from a rousing exhortation (“Come on up to the rising”) to a grim, familiar question: “Who’ll be the last to die for a mistake?”

“That’s why we had to get that very right today,” he said later. “You saw us working on it. That thing has to come down like the world’s falling on you, that first chord. It’s got to screech at the end of ‘The Rising,’ and then it’s got to crack, rumble. The whole night is going to turn on that segue. That’s what we’re up there for right now, that 30 seconds.”
But the night does not end there. Onstage, “Last to Die” is followed, as it is on the album, by a song called “Long Walk Home.” In the first verse, the speaker travels to some familiar hometown spots and experiences an alienation made especially haunting by the language in which he describes it: “I looked into their faces/They were all rank strangers to me.” That curious, archaic turn of phrase — rank strangers — evokes an eerie old mountain lament of the same title, recorded by the Stanley Brothers.

“In that particular song a guy comes back to his town and recognizes nothing and is recognized by nothing,” Mr. Springsteen said. “The singer in ‘Long Walk Home,’ that’s his experience. His world has changed. The things that he thought he knew, the people who he thought he knew, whose ideals he had something in common with, are like strangers. The world that he knew feels totally alien. I think that’s what’s happened in this country in the past six years.”

And so the song’s images of a vanished small town life (“The diner was shuttered and boarded/With a sign that just said ‘gone’ “) turn into metaphors, the last of which is delivered with the clarity and force that has distinguished Mr. Springsteen’s best writing:

My father said “Son, we’re
lucky in this town
It’s a beautiful place to be born.
It just wraps its arms around you
Nobody crowds you, nobody goes it alone.
You know that flag
flying over the courthouse
Means certain things are set in stone
Who we are, and what we’ll do
And what we won’t”
It’s gonna be a long walk home.
“That’s the end of the story we’re telling on a nightly basis,” Mr. Springsteen said. “Because that’s the way it’s supposed to be. And that’s not the way it is right now.”

I know

2007-09-27T13:19:00.000-07:00

it's pathetic!

I haven't written about the wonderful, magical experience that was ACLF.

My excuse: I have been working crazy-ass hours (some 11 hour days) and haven't had the will to come home to write.

The progress so far: I have copious notes, and I've started writing in blog-form about it.

I want to. I just haven't had the goddamn time. But, that's no excuse! I must make the time.

In Austin

2007-09-11T18:34:00.000-07:00

I am about to embark on one of the most anticipated musical journeys of my 26 years of live music living/loving.

On to Austin! For a hodge podge of amazing bands meeting in the most scary state in the union! Sorry--but it is! Fucking scary! I'm such a sheltered Midwestern Girl, when it comes down to it...absolutely terrified of the South, the unknown down there...Hell, you-know-who might be from Texas, but Molly Ivins was from fucking *Austin*, yo! (R.I.P., you rascal.)

I am excited to check it out. I want to explore the city in a major way. We're even going a few days ahead of time and staying longer to enjoy the city (dude, it's the "live music capital of the world." this is awesome.) My friend Tara told me to expect hipsters, of course, but emphasized that they're "Texas hipsters" and told me some of what to expect of Texas and it's "swagger." Gulp.

here's that helluva line-up once again
and here's what I'm positively jumping up and down for:

Bob Dylan
Bjork
The White Stripes!
The Killers
Muse
Bloc Party!
Arctic (fucking) Monkeys!
Regina Spektor
Amy Winehouse (I think she's officially can canceled now ...but you never know with Wino!)
Kaiser Chiefs
Spoon

Hope to scribble notes to put together a semblance of a blog at a later date...damn, that sounded pathetic. Well, lemme put it this way: I'll be having WAY too much fun under the Texas sun, ears filled with music, to be writing...probably. That, and no internet access.

Word.

To quote Mario...Here we gooooooh!

<<<<>>>>>

2007-08-25T10:27:00.000-07:00

damn. it's good. it's really good. damn, I love this man. I dug it instantly--and could picture it perfectly *live.*

Bruce Springsteen - Radio Nowhere

The first single of the new album Magic. The first new album of Bruce Springsteen with the E Street Band since The Rising (2002)

I was trying to find my way home,
But all I heard was a drone.
Bouncin' off a satellite
Crushing the last long American night.

This is radio nowhere.
Is there anybody alive out there?
This is radio nowhere.
Is there anybody alive out there?

I was sitting around a dirt dial
Just another lost number in a file.
Been in some kinda dark cove
Just searching for a world with some soul.

This is radio nowhere.
Is there anybody alive out there?
This is radio nowhere.
Is there anybody alive out there?
Is there anybody alive out there?

I just want to hear some rhythm.
I just want to hear some rhythm
I just want to hear some rhythm.
I just want to hear some rhythm.

I want a thousand guitars.
I want pounding drums.
I want a million different voices speaking in tongues.

This is radio nowhere.
Is there anybody alive out there?
This is radio nowhere.
Is there anybody alive out there?
Is there anybody alive out there?

(Sax solo)

I was driving thru the misty rain
Yeah, searching for a mystery train.
Bopping thru the wild blue
Trying to make a connection with you.

This is radio nowhere.
Is there anybody alive out there?
This is radio nowhere.
Is there anybody alive out there?
Is there anybody alive out there?

I just want to hear some rhythm (you swoon.)
I just want to hear some rhythm (you swoon.)
I just want to hear you swoon.
I just want to hear you swoon.
I just want to hear you swoon.
I just want to hear you swoon.
I just want to hear you swoon.
I just want to hear you swoon.

so. excited.

2007-08-16T14:13:00.001-07:00

dude. this is so fucking exciting, I can hardly stand it!!!!!!

a;slkjhfkahgkahgkhafghafdhg

things that make you "cry like a little bitch, man"

2007-08-16T07:51:00.001-07:00

Why do we do it to ourselves? Why do we like it?

Why do chicks like movies that make 'em cry? And why do some of us (me, for example) cry at certain songs every time we hear them?

I had this article from the Science Times saved forever (it used to reside on my fridge) and the question posed dealt with the pure emotion that afflicts us when we hear certain music--whether it's joy, goose bumps or even tears. The response said that there had been studies done to see how the brain reacts to certain pieces of music (plug those key words into Google and you'll see loads of studies that have been conducted). Basically, there is still lots up in the air and fodder for debate (culture vs. biology being the main thing).

But, there ain't no doubt about it: certain songs do crazy things to my emotions, and that's why it gets me awf so much. That's why I'm obsessed--I can use it like a drug to change my emotional state...and of course, it's better than drugs, there's no side effects.

Well, unless you consider welling up with tears whist walking down the street. That's what just happened to me, cuz I made the silly (awesome?) choice to hear a sure-fire tearjerker: Joe Strummer's version of "Redemption Song." Mutherfucker. I had to switch it to the goddamn Misfits just so I could get tough again and continue to walk down the street!

It’s almost like I try again, each time, to see if I can *not* cry. But I always fail. And with “Redemption Song,” it’s incredibly specific for me. I realize that I start to get overwhelmed at the exact same line each and every time: “How long shall they kill our prophets/While we stand aside and look?” sheesh—I’m getting fucking goose bumps just writing the damn thing.

I immediately thought about Chuck Klosterman's essay on the huge L.A.-based, chiefly male, Latino fan base of Morrissey. He opens with a description of a hulking, handsome straight (!) Mexican-American dude that says sometimes he likes to listen to a Morrissey record alone, in his room and cry. He says, "I'm serious. I sit there and I cry like a little bitch, man."

Guess that's exactly what we need to do sometimes, man.

his words

2007-08-16T06:51:00.000-07:00

these got posted and really were the only words that really made me smile on that recockulously long stream of comments were these, the original words of the man himself:

"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!"

— Posted by Sal Paradise

August 15th,200712:40 pm

"Maybe that's what life is … a wink of the eye and winking stars."

"All human beings are also dream beings. Dreaming ties all mankind together."

"I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion."

— Posted by Sal Paradise

defending "On the Road"

2007-08-15T08:47:00.000-07:00

Jack Kerouac's "On the Road" had a huge impact on me when I read it at the tender age of 15. The radical stream-of-consciousness writing and counter-culture sentiment, I can safely say, changed me fundamentally. For the first time, I read (in a book! not teee veee!) about the boho life style: drugs, sex, music, road-tripin'. How it was all possible--to be smart and thoughtful about hedonism. How Kerouac was all for "the mad people" seemed comforting and inspiring. Feeling out-of-place in my high school, wanting more, he was giving me a sort of formation of all my nebulous ideas and passions that I would value most in my young adult life. Funny, true, skewed visions of his journeys were vividly portrayed with a sloppy, passionate and verbose style of writing. I could do this, I thought…I’d really, really *love* to do this…

It was pure (true?) romance to me. I never imagined such a romantic ideal before. Casting all "adult” responsibility aside, making maybe not-so-smart decisions and seeing America (*really* seeing, as they say...) by car. It was dated, sure. Full of 50s slang and drug/culture/literature references. But, for me, it seemed downright modern. And, hell, I still use the word "tea." It's the best. Even before I read the book, I was hell-bent on thinking I was born in the wrong decade. Afterwards, I was fucking positive….to quote Brian Wilson, I just wasn’t made for these times…cat.

Any time I cite "On the Road" as one of my favorite books to anyone my age, most people tell me they couldn't even finish it...it was boring...it's dated...whatever. ("The Catcher in the Rye" has this effect, as well. For me, it contained some of the most accurate interpretations of adolescent vs. adult world of hypocrisy--much like aspects of "On the Road"...but to some of my friends, they feel it’s overrated and childish. humph.)

Well, the book about Kerouac’s mad travels is "turning 50" as they like to put it. The Times had this thing online today. ..it’s filled with comments from people who cite really eloquent reasons for lauding it or despising it, and plenty of inarticulate ones, too. And that’s cool—they sure beat the insipid comments that follow any goddamn YouTube video. sheeeeeeesh.

**ooh, and dig it: the photo is of Kerouac's original 120-foot manuscript that became the book.

somehow

2007-08-09T09:40:00.000-07:00

I always manage to get sick around my birthday...

So, I was. But, really, it wasn't nuthin' compared to double ear infection, post-Lollapalooza of '06. That was far more brutal than how I've felt lately. I'm totally on the mend.

Saw Patti Smith on Monday night when I was still down and out in Sick Land. It was totally inspiring, although not as powerful as the last time I saw her at First Ave.

She still stirred me up inside, though and made me get fired up about the world and the injustices that still need to be remedied.

She's a force and that voice of hers still sends chills up and down my spine.

Fitzy wrote a great thing about the show on his.

wow

2007-07-31T07:03:00.000-07:00

Tom Snyder is dead...that's too bad, but tv journalism is better without him

2007-07-30T12:20:00.000-07:00

take one of the most disagreeable interviewees of all time (Mr. Rotten/Lydon) and put him in front of one of the most arrogant, smarmy tv interviewers of all time and you get this, which will live in infamy:

I remember, growing up, watching Tom Snyder (my dad liked him...?) and wondering, at quite a young age, how the fuck did this guy get on tv? He sucks! Every time someone I cared about was sitting across from him (granted, it was usually someone in music or film) it was painfully evident that Mr. Snyder did not do his homework and had not a clue as to what his guest was all about. (Painfully and hilariously evident above, of course).

I soon discovered Charlie Rose and fell in love. (so charming, smart, and a such a major homework-doer.) He restored my faith in intelligent tv journalism.

They way the obits are telling it today, Snyder was a "pioneer"...I thought he was a real-life Ted Baxter who cared more to hear his own blustery voice (and opinions) than anyone else's. I guess I'm just too young and ignorant not to appreciate him...ah, well.

G'night, Mr. Snyder.

"downright catastrophic," OR "Wh rlly nds vwls, nywy?"

2007-07-26T08:14:00.000-07:00

so fun to read someone who gets it so much.

I can't hardly wait to see these two RIP IT UP in Austin!!! I'm counting down the days...(52, to be exact)

In this review, Sanneh writes one of the best, most musically accurate bits about Meg I've ever seen. Praise him!

Also--I will never forget waiting for the show to get started at First Ave, the first time I saw 'em...and seeing the meticulously dressed stage crew--in fedoras and sharp gangster-like suits. Hot.
From the Times.......
July 26, 2007
Music Review White Stripes
If Something’s Missing, All the Better
By KELEFA SANNEH
They were wearing suits! And hats! No, not the two band members: Jack White was wearing red pants and a red T-shirt, while Meg White was wearing black pants and a red shirt. And besides, plenty of musicians dress up when they play Madison Square Garden. On Tuesday night, though, the White Stripes went one step further: those suits and hats belonged to the guys setting up the amplifiers.

Once the show started, the White Stripes were left alone: the two of them spent nearly two hours on a big stage in a big — and full — room. “I don’t believe we’ve played this bar before,” said Mr. White, surveying the Garden. He probably didn’t feel quite that blasé, but he certainly didn’t seem intimidated, or thrilled, or even triumphant. He simply went to work, howling and shrieking and sighing, while inducing his guitars to do the same.
The entire set was red, and carefully positioned footlights projected beautiful shadows of the two onto a huge red backdrop. The only special effect was a big disco ball, but that was plenty. In between songs, he paid courtly tribute to “my big sister Meg” (the two are actually a divorced couple), and to his opening act, the Nashville veteran Porter Wagoner, “the best-dressed man in country music.” (The other opening act was Grinderman, led by Nick Cave.)

It’s astonishing how much the White Stripes have achieved through pure stubbornness. Over the course of six albums, they have sidled up to the rock ’n’ roll mainstream without softening their approach. They still sound as rude and as unhinged as ever, especially compared with the emo and alternative bands with whom they share the modern-rock radio airwaves.

At most rock concerts, there are moments when the machine — the band — briefly comes unhinged: the beat is a split-second late, or the guitar emits a deafening squeal, or a lyric emerges as a formless howl. A White Stripes concert consists of almost nothing but these moments, and that’s the whole point. The two make a fierce, wobbly racket, confident that listeners won’t miss the comfort afforded by steady bass lines and fuller arrangements. Hearing them play is a bit like reading a sentence with no vowels. Wh rlly nds vwls, nywy?

A White Stripes concert also underscores the importance of Ms. White, whose drumming is more sophisticated than many fans (and many more non-fans) realize. She refuses to imitate a metronome, refuses to flatten the songs by making them conform to a steady pulse. Instead she seems to hear the music the way Mr. White does: as a series of phrases, each with its own shape and tempo. In “Icky Thump,” the title track from the group’s most recent album, which was released last month, she occasionally warped the rhythm by shortening one of the beats, perfectly in unison with Mr. White’s guitar. If her playing were mathematically precise, it would be less musically precise.

Much of the set was devoted to songs from “Icky Thump,” which is a bit more raucous than its excellent and unpredictable predecessor, “Get Behind Me Satan.” Where that album found Mr. White experimenting with marimba and other instruments, “Icky Thump” is a return to guitar-dominated tantrums and pleas. Ear fatigue occasionally sets in (that’s one inevitable effect of the band’s ruthless approach), but more often, it was simply exciting to hear familiar traditions — garage rock, country music, the blues — sounding so strange. And Mr. White’s squiggly solo during “You Don’t Know What Love Is (You Just Do as You’re Told),” from the new album, sounded downright catastrophic, in the best sense.

The White Stripes are in the happy position of having too many songs to choose from, though they found time for most of their biggest hits, some of which were packed into the encore. There was a singalong version of “We’re Going to Be Friends,” a breakneck run through “Blue Orchid” and, eventually, a thumping rendition of “Seven Nation Army.” But one of the band’s biggest songs, “Fell in Love With a Girl,” appeared only in modified form: a screaming garage-rock hit was reborn, slower and quieter. Perhaps some fans missed the original version. Others probably took it in stride: part of the fun of a White Stripes concert is learning how much you can live without.

10KLF, part 2

2007-07-23T13:02:00.000-07:00

Just returned (Sunday) from my first festival of the summer-- 10,000 Lakes Festival in Detroit Lakes. You may have heard about it this year: two men were found dead and $25,000 worth of drogas were confiscated from 12 peddlers. The death thing kinda shook me up, maybe more than it should have, but what are you gonna do? People OD and that’s the hard, fucked-up facts that come with hard drug use... I guess, right?

It's a sad reality that comes with loving music. Musicians and fans do drugs; it's all around us. Sometimes they abuse 'em. And sometimes they die from it. Neil Young wrote some of the best songs about it all, and the lesson remains: just be careful and watch out for yourself and the ones you love. It's all you can do if you plan on being a part of that scene, man.

The music and the community and the scenic beauty is what I was really diggin’ on, though. Fitzy and I had a great time this year—he boldly claims “Best 10K ever,” and he means it. It may have a lot to do with the fact that he got a sweet gig—writing about the festival, *for* the festival. An act which allowed us to eat and drink like royalty with VIP passes. The swank salad bar city in the shade was the sweetest reward. A huge bonus to our bodies when you consider the amount of time we were out in the the brutal, hot sun for 4 days straight. Festivals can wreak some havoc on your bod, that's a known fact. But we did our bodies good. And it made such a difference. Maybe it's cuz we're getting...older...? eeek!

Now, some of you who know me and know all the shit I can't get out of being into know that I'm no fan of improvisational, "jammy," meandering guitar music...it tends to bore me. Just can't get down with it. (Of course, the drug thing comes back into play, here. It's inextricably linked to the Dead and everything after. So, the drugs seem to compliment the music and vice versa.) I think so much of it comes from the fact that I've never been into jazz, as shameful as that is to admit(I've tried!). Improv in music is something I deeply *admire*, but can't really enjoy listening to. Since I've been with Fitzy, he's opened my ears to so many different things (reggae was always something I was on the verge of loving--E Beth knows this and she taught me all about how the punks and the hippies come together when 'Babylon By Bus' is spinnin. Strummer and Fitzy made my love for it expand, big time). I've gotten over some of my prejudices--but still will never fully "get it" when it comes to how much people *adore* this music. It almost feels like something you're either born with or you're not. I just wasn't born with the gene to like noodling, I guess. ha!

Something that came up in my mind again and again as I watched all the bands was the Fran Healy (lead singer/songwriter of Travis) who once said that *bands* are really irrelevant, it’s the *songs* that really matter—that’s what lasts through the years. Discussing his album title from years ago, "The Invisible Band," he remembered (as most of us all do) growing up and listening to the radio. And as we all know, when you listen to the radio, you rarely hear which band played the song you just heard for the first time and fell in love with. You don't know what the singer looks like, and you don't care (this is pretending MTV doesn't exist, of course, but this theory still stands, because I still listened to the radio and loved songs by faceless bands even though I grew up with MTV). Maybe it's 40 years old and the band was a one-hit wonder. It doesn't matter, you end up knowing all the words and maybe you never know who sang it, wrote it or even what the song's title is. To me, that's one of the greatest powers of music and Healy hit it right on when he said that bands fade away, the image doesn't matter--it's great songs that last through the years, the decades.

The very best example of that at the festival, for me, is our very own local (Duluth/Minneapolis)boys (and old friends of Fitzy) Trampled By Turtles—who tear up a mean mix of bluegrass with rock and punk that make even the mellowest hippies get down and dirty and down-right aggressive—at times. Near the stage, the crowd on Friday night could have been part of a Rancid pit at the Entry--plenty of rough, good-natured pogoing and flailing about. Their fast and furious rendition of bluegrass-rock has been compared to the Ramones because their fast songs clock in under 3 minutes and the style they pound out is precise, polished and poppy--just like those New York boys playing Beach Boys or Ronnettes songs at CB's, TBT showed their stuff and blasted out a fucking rocking version of "Sloop John B" for their final song of the night. Perfect.

Each member is fucking talented beyond their years, but it’s Dave Simonett, the group’s lead singer, guitarist and songwriter that shines as an up-and-coming star. His songwriting is something that struck me instantly, the first few times I actually concentrated on the lyrics(specifically, a song called "Never Again" is what shook me. check it out.) To me they come from the same place as Westerberg and Springsteen (hell, Simonett even holds his guitar like Bruce, it's fucking hot).

The other three highlights for me all were at the blessed Barn Stage as well. Two of groups were from New Orleans, Dumpstaphunk and Jon Cleary & The Absolute Monster Gentlemen (both have played with Bonnie Rait). The other was Cornmeal, out of Chi.

After getting shut out of God Johnson playing the cigarette-smoke-filled Saloon stage, we drifted over to the magical Barn Stage to the sounds of the breakdown of the Stones' "Miss You." It was Ivan Neville's Dumpstaphunk—the last band of the festival, playing till the late hours and getting the crowd riled up and wanting more. A tribute to James Brown was most definitely in order, and we got it good. Then came an original (I presume) and the chorus was "No more 'okey doke'" --which I know as a rhetorical line from Obama's speeches. It stuck a chord, man. Then, after a minor on-stage (off-mic) bicker back and forth, the band funked it up for the festival lot (a la Woodstock, no doubt) and pumped out a joyous version of Sly & the Family Stone's “Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin).”

That song completely connected with me, more than anything at the festival. During a lot of the shows I felt quite disconnected, cuz I don't have that gene inside of me to dig so many of the bands. During Dumpstaphunk, I felt a part of something I really understood, with my brain and my booty. The song says it all--I felt like mice elf, listening to the pure funky bass lines and dancing my ass off in front of the stage with Fitzy doing the same, right by my side.

lights out, this land is yours and I ain't no President's Son

2007-07-16T08:31:00.000-07:00

On Friday the 13th, in the cramped cavern of the 7th Street Entry, we were treated to a political and musical delight, and a bit of a surprise of an evening. Tom Morello of Rage Against the Machine is currently out on a solo tour billed as "The Nightwatchman." Turns out, Mr. Morello has a wonderful, deep, melodic voice and he pulled off his guitar-stylings on his acoustic really expertly (admittedly, I didn't *love* some of his original songs...they were a bit too obvious and simplistic for me...some might say "contrived," even). My man Ike Reilly opened for him and is doing part of the tour with him, as well. They went to high school together in Libertyville, IL and have maintained their friendship since. (Also an alum: the late, great Chris Farley. crazy, huh?)

Most exciting was when Ike joined him on stage to pound out a stirring version of CCR's "Fortunate Son." Incendiary, really. I was lucky enough to see John Fogerty do it at the Vote For Change show a few years back...when we had hope of booting out that President's Son (as Fogerty had done before, Morello and Reilly stuck in "President's" instead of "Military" rightly so). Those were hopeful times. Now, it was another rallying cry...maybe looking towards the countdown to January '09. Whew. The only pointed comment from Morello about Dubya was sharing his hope that Bush will be taken before an International War Crimes Tribunal. The crowd went wild.

We did get to meet and hang with Morello, which was totally exciting and surreal. (also REALLY exciting for me: we got to chill with Babes in Toyland drummer/legend Lori Barbero like it was no big thang. She is sweetness personified, people. sigh.) My man Fitzy did an exceptional job of storytelling of the night's events. He brought such a fresh perspective to everything, and did a far better job at it than I was attempting... here ya go: 612Jams

here's a funny pic Fitzy took (I think I look like a madwoman, he's got a better pic on his blog with him, Ike and Tom):

note: because he missed one song (and it was a doozy) I will scribble about it. Morello did his own interpretation of "Guerrilla Radio" that was riveting. It was still super-tough and powerful, even without Zack's screaming...maybe more so, because for the first time, I heard all the words, crystal clear and resolute as ever. Even more thrilling and chilling: all those voices in the Entry singing (shouting) along with Morello, "What better place than here, what better time than now?"

Now, bring on the revolution.

GUERRILLA RADIO

Transmission third world war third round
A decade of the weapon of sound above ground
No shelter if you're lookin' for shade
I lick shots at the brutal charade
As the polls close like a casket
On truth devoured
A Silent play in the shadow of power
A spectacle monopolized
The camera's eyes on choice disguised
Was it cast for the mass who burn and toil?
Or for the vultures who thirst for blood and oil?
Yes a spectacle monopolized
They hold the reins and stole your eyes
Or the fistagons
The bullets and bombs
Who stuff the banks
Who staff the party ranks
More for Gore or the son of a drug lord
None of the above fuck it cut the cord

Lights out
Guerrilla Radio Turn that shit up
Lights out
Guerrilla Radio Turn that shit up
Lights out
Guerrilla Radio Turn that shit up
Lights out
Guerrilla Radio

Contact I highjacked the frequencies
Blockin' the beltway
Move on D.C.
Way past the days of Bombin' M.C.'s
Sound off Mumia guan be free
Who gottem yo check the federal file
All you pen devils know the trial was vile
An army of pigs try to silence my style
Off 'em all out that box
It's my radio dial

Lights out
Guerrilla Radio Turn that shit up
Lights out
Guerrilla Radio Turn that shit up
Lights out
Guerrilla Radio Turn that shit up
Lights out
Guerrilla Radio Turn that shit up

It has to start somewhere It has to start sometime
What better place than here, what better time than now?

All hell can't stop us now
All hell can't stop us now
All hell can't stop us now
All hell can't stop us now
All hell can't stop us now
All hell can't stop us now

"...had they invited frontman Liam they might have been in trouble"

2007-07-10T10:10:00.000-07:00

From the NME...
Tony Blair was worried Oasis would trash Downing Street
Alistair Campbell's diaries reveal fears about Noel Gallagher
6 hours ago
Former Prime Minister Tony Blair was worried that Oasis would "do something crazy" when they attended a reception at 10 Downing Street in 1997. The then newly-elected leader was holding a music industry reception when he discovered that the band's guitarist Noel Gallagher was attending. However, according to the diaries of his spokesperson Alistair Campbell, which were published yesterday (July 8), Blair had no idea how the Oasis man had been invited, and was then worried he might be the victim of a spot of rock 'n' roll behaviour."
TB (Tony Blair) was worried that Noel Gallagher was coming to the reception tomorrow. He said he had no idea he had been invited," wrote Campbell. "TB felt he was bound to do something crazy. I spoke to (Creation Records boss) Alan McGee and said can we be assured he would behave."The record label boss assured them it would be fine, explaining had they invited frontman Liam they might have been in trouble."Alan said he would make sure he did. He said if we had invited Liam, it might have been different," said Campbell. "(Noel) Gallagher arrived with his wife Meg, McGee and his girlfriend. Cherie (Blair[/b) met them and took them upstairs to see (the [b]Blair's children) Kathryn and Nicky, who was pretty gobsmacked when Gallagher walked in. "He said he thought Number 10 was 'tops', said he couldn't believe that there was an ironing board in there."

whoa-oh-oh-oh, Tom Jones does the lads...!?

2007-07-02T07:46:00.000-07:00

Jones to cover Arctic Monkeys track

(Sunday July 01, 2007 11:15 AM)
Welsh singer Tom Jones will belt out his own version of an Arctic Monkeys' track at the Princess Diana Memorial Concert today.
The veteran crooner is so impressed with the British rockers that he has chosen to perform a
personalised rendition of their hit song I Bet You Look Good On The
Dancefloor. He says, "I'm a massive fan of the band and I felt like doing something different with my set. It's a great song and I wanted to do it as a surprise for the Princess Diana concert. I
haven't been in touch with the lads about it but I hope that they like it."