Two for Tuesday

Today's entry comes from down under. No, not hell, but maybe next week I'll put up some Slayer. I mean "the land down under," Australia.

There are loads of great Aussie bands in a wide variety of styles and, with a fond nod to my beloved AC/DC, most of my favorites fall into the New Wave/alternative/indie rock category. Of course the biggest in the States (and also my least favorite) is INXS, with Crowded House and Divinyls close(ish) at their heals. Ok, I definitely dislike Divinyls a lot more than INXS.

And no, I haven't forgotten the Church, you know I love them more than my mother.

A couple of Australia's "best kept secrets" were so much so that they could barely scratch out a living in their own country, though at the time they were highly praised by critics and peers, and today maintain a bold if obscure footnote in the annuls of alternative rock music, and continue to influence current music from a rippled distance.

Of course I'm referring to the Go-Betweens and the Triffids.

I won't go into the torrid ins and out of both bands, but they both put out a slew of fantastic albums that were commercially unappreciated and yet a couple of which are now heralded as some of the best music to ever come out of Australia (which is seriously saying something). Both groups wrote expressive, introspective music that was both pop catchy and yet carried a certain weight of sophistication, with the potential to relate on several levels. Doubtless the latter was both the critical focal point as well as mass popularity downfall for each act, but they both carried on regardless, progressively shaping their sound to become, arguably, more mainstream, but never losing the post punk romantic vision that got them going in the first place. By the end of the 80s, both bands had dissolved with little more than a whimper and it would take years before either, more decidedly the Go-Betweens, would receive the more financial accolades they should have enjoyed in their prime.

Regardless, the music remains all the same, and today I offer likely the best known tracks to the casual listener. For the Go-Betweens it's the bittersweet nostalgia of Cattle and Cane, and from the Triffids, the ultimate break up song, Wide Open Road.

Enjoy.

Performance Review - Old 97s

On Friday, February 8, 2013, Old 97s played the Vinyl Music Hall in Pensacola, FL…and I was there.

Of course you guys knew about this from a previous post (two weeks ago!!). And I’m happy to say that we only broke one rule, simply because the iPod was on shuffle and a couple of tracks came up (that they didn’t even play).

As for the show itself, in short – what a heart stopper. We were there in plenty of time to hang out and get our bearings, and learned that a Mardi Gras parade was to be going on right by the venue. Oh boy. But that worked out, we got a great (and free) parking spot, did some antiquing, had some crazy good pizza (Hopjacks, baby!) and in some semblance of a line, tickets in hand, started chatting it up with several super nice locals who became our BFFs for the duration of the show.

The Vinyl Music Hall is right on the corner of E Garden and Palafox, down from the wharf in the heart of P’cola. It’s a great little place and the perfect size to see a band along the caliber of Old 97s.

As mentioned previously, Rhett Miller opened the night with a brief but rousing acoustic set, of which I scored a signed copy, which was made up of mostly covers and obscure tracks, including California Stars by Billy Bragg and Wilco, from their first Woodie Guthrie tribute album, and closing with a blistering version of Wreck of the Old 97. Afterward, I told a few of our new besties who’d never seen them live, “It’s on after this.”

Texas duo The Os took the stage next…one guy on guitar, kick drum and vocals, and another on banjo, lap steel, harmonica, kick tambourine and vocals. Both of them told jokes. Their take on Texas Americana was a spirited hoot and holler, and when they referred to (the late, great) Townes Van Zandt as a “local artist” before launching into a truly haunting version of Waiting Around to Die, I was thoroughly won over.

 

But nothing could really prepare me for what was to come next. Again, we’ve seen Old 97s several times over the years, beginning all the way back in 1999 when they were still 20 somethings and staring with half-stunned eyes at a sea of Ryman Auditorium faces as an opening slot for Chris Isaak. We were fans from that moment on, and 14 years later the boys are playing their hearts out as if still trying to win over a blank-faced crowd at the Mecca of country music.

Starting the set with a front to back run through of Too Far to Care was nothing short of revolutionary, with Rhett singing to capacity as if the lives of his grand children depended on it, and the rest of the guys propelling him along with the fury of a freight train bound for hell. Many of our crowd mates proved to be uber fans, singing and dancing and yelling out requests, which made me completely lose my own cool cat reserve and decorum, and for the next 90+ minutes I was a rabid 25 year old going nuts all over again.

After a frenzied take of (album closer) Four Leaf Clover, they launched undaunted into a second set that lifted from every album but Fight Songs (my only complaint…and despite me screaming “Jagged!!!” until I was coughing), and included two Murry standouts (both decided there on stage), Can’t Get a Line and Color of a Lonely Heart is Blue.

A brief break brought them out for an encore that included their “we can’t get out of here without playing this” take on Mama Tried and a crowd-rousing, sing-your-heart-out version of Roller Skate Skinny (my favorite from Satellite Rides for the Salinger reference alone) and then closed, for whatever reason, with another take on Too Far to Care album opener, Time Bomb. Because I had already checked out recent sets, I was prepared for this and even mentioned it to some of my show mates. We all shrugged as to why, and it hardly mattered two seconds in as we all exploded again into our personal song and dance routines. Honestly, it felt like a fitting way to round out a night that celebrated the reason they had made it so far and for so long, and if they were happy to play it a second time, we were of course thrilled to oblige.

What really struck me about the band is that they just seemed ecstatic to still be playing to any sort of willing audience nearly 20 years down the line, and so they gave it their all, even though they were preaching to a ¾ roomful of the converted.

Such was the Old 97s’ power, that a 40 something couple (they knew every word of both old and new tunes) who brought in their 13ish daughter and two of her friends, found that two of them had fought their way to the front rail and were staring mesmerized by the pure (alt-country) rock being delivered directly in their faces. And of course Rhett is still a cutie-pie, so that helps. 

The show ended at midnight and we were halfway home before the buzz wore off enough for fatigue to start kicking in. We remedied that by putting on Fight Songs and singing along with our voices cracked and worn. Twelve hours later, I still couldn’t hear a blasted things, but after a performance like that, I never really need to again.

JT's Best of 2012 - Better Late Than Never

It's not always easy knowing/dealing with JT, but the perks are worth it. 

Below is his list of favorites from 2012, though he doesn't tell us why. I guess you can just take his word for it.

Better late (and incomplete--sorry no individual record write ups) than never.

1.   Joyce Manor- Of All Things I Will Soon Grow Tired

2.   Kendrick Lamar- Good Kid: M.A.A.D. City

3.   Big Boi- Vicious Lies & Dangerous Rumors

4.   Gaslight Anthem- Handwritten

5.   Elle Varner- Perfectly Imperfect

6.   The Weeknd- Trilogy

7.   Frank Ocean- Code Orange

8.   Bob Mould- Silver Age

9.   The xx- Coexist

10. Lambchop- Mr. M

Two for Tuesday

Well, better late in the day than never...

Today's Two for Tuesday post is from a band I was obsessed with about 15 years ago, the UK's artiest of art rock, Roxy Music. Their first five albums (the first two featuring Eno) were a smash up of pop, jazz, glam and old time balladry pushed through a space filter and led by the hypnotic croon of of the ultimate in chic, Bryan Ferry. Following a hiatus, they re-emerged as a slicker, slinkier and slightly less powerful dance-oriented version of radio friendly(ish) adult contemporary. After two albums of that, they delivered their masterpiece, 1982's Avalon, which took the angular art leanings of their first phase and ran it through the glossy production of their comeback to create a pop atmospheric backdrop that is both sexy and muscular.

My selections for today come from the  beginning of their career, the rollicking Virginia Plain from the self-titled debut, and the seductive, lead single from Avalon, More than This.

Two for Tuesday

Today’s two for Tuesday is inspired by an earlier discussion with JT. I won’t go into the details at this time, but it did give me the idea for today’s post.

Back in the late 70s/mid 80s, the US punk and hard core scenes were in many ways dominated and defined by east coast and west coast, like LA vs. DC. Of course Chicago, MN, Boston, etc all contributed great and influential bands, so please don’t come beat me up…but the most prolific scenes were found in LA, SF, DC and NYC. Each “side” of the country, as well as within each city and region, were developing their own styles and sounds simultaneously, which were distinct and noted in their own right, and yet held fast to a DIY aesthetic that was fueled by youthful angst and a staunch individualism.

The brilliant and amazing thing about this is that for the most part, most of these scenes were happening with little to no awareness of what else was out there. There was no internet, mass media was either ignorant or indifferent and local authorities were often trying to shut everything down. All of this of course meant going on the road, and by the end of the 80s, when yours truly was discovering "alternative" music, the tales of Black Flag, Husker Du, Gang Green and the Misfits were all part of the collective punk mythos.

My two selections today come from California and DC, and were arguably the biggest, most significant examples of their respective home scenes at the time, and are certainly two of the most influential and rabidly loved in the present day and age. Of course I’m talking about Minutemen and Minor Threat.

I won’t go into the similarities and differences of each group, those can be noted simply by listening, but the impact they both had on everything after them cannot be denied and to argue the “better” of the two is just silliness. Personally, I prefer Minor Threat because they spoke to me on a social level that I could relate to easily as an angry 17yo, whereas Minutemen’s politically charged bursts of energy were often beyond me because my indifference to politics gave me no point of meaningful reference.

Both bands worked hard for several years and established an extreme cult following that is still alive and well, and I find it amusing that while all of Minor Threat’s commercial output, several releases, can fit snuggly on one CD, the Minutemen’s most celebrated album, Double Nickels on the Dime, has twice as many songs (plus other albums and the Post-Mersh collections, etc).

Both bands ended for vastly different reasons, and I’ll leave it to your interest to explore why (though you should already know), and members went on to more “mainstream” notable acts like fIREHOSE and Fugazi, to just name drop a couple.  Anyway… Here are a couple of personal standouts from both, Minutemen’s This Ain’t No Picnic and Minor Threat’s Bottled Violence. From there you can link around to all sorts of good stuff.

Enjoy!