The Longest Time (Redemption 8)

It should have started with the police, if not a lot sooner. That was certainly the plan. As it was, I was ashamed that I was so far behind everyone else I knew. Already out of high school and hadn't done it yet. Hell, some of them had done it in 10th grade already (I was so jealous when they were telling me the details of the evening before in 7th hour yearbook). I even got a job my last summer to get some extra cash to pay for it. I was ready, I was due, and it was going to be the police or bust! I was going to see a Rock show already!!!

Never mind that I hadn't worked out the logistics of either getting said ticket nor traveling to st. paul for the show, but wills demand and I'm sure it would have worked out some way. Except somewhere between getting paid and getting to the bank, I lost the check. I was sure I had put it on the fridge, but it was not to be found. Look, look, looked for it, I did, high over hill and dale but no luck. That was one check that once written could not be cashed, alas. (a bunch of years later, when my folks were putting a new floor in the kitchen, my mom found the check underneath the fridge. The one place I never thought to look (I even looked in the coils behind the fridge, course in retrospect, underneath was a logical place to have checked). Ah well. Cashless (spare cash at least, my savings account for college was inviolate) I was unable to make that synchronicity show (not sure if it was met center or the civic center and sorta too lazy too google...best off to forget that first miss).

So perhaps it was more fitting that my first concert (and I'm not talking some goofball act that plays a lyceum at school, or any of the chorus/band/high schooley things I'd invariably gone to), first REAL ROCK concert was billy joel at the st. paul civic center in 1984 (I'm thinking spring, but again I'm too lazy too look it up). I'm pretty sure this was the innocent man tour, although the show seemed kinda heavy on Nylon Curtain songs (ok, ok, I best pull up the set list in a bit to refresh my memory). I was always a fan of Mr. Joel. One of my very first vinyl purchases was "The Stranger," closely followed by "52nd Street." The Joelmeister went way back, so when I first heard about that tour, I was pretty excited and drummed up some interested amongst my dormmates. Three other guys were interested enough to commit, so I counted out my pennies and circled the date tickets went on sale. (I'm thinking tickets were like $13 each or somesuch, but they might have been as much as $20. Whatever, I was going, damnit, I was going to a show.)

Now being the dork that I am, the day before tickets went on sale, I got all antsy and worried that we wouldn't be able to get tickets, so after fretting most of the day (a Sunday) I decided (against the advice of my dorm roomie, who was also going to the show, and probably every shred of common sense that I should have had) that I should go down to the civic center and camp out overnight for tickets. so I hopped a bus outside of my dorm on University avenue by the UofM campus (Minneapolis campus mind you) and rode over the civic center. I think I got there around 4pm and there was not a soul in existence. And believe me, I walked all over the place trying to figure out where the ticket booth was and where was the line I was sure would have been snaking outside at this point. (did I mention that it was winter---february-ish I'm thinking, although I could easily be misremembering that too). But whatevs, there was no line, and only one little lonely window that looked like it had any possibility of ticket sales the next morning. so I planted myself, popped open a book and settled in for the long haul. Around 6.30 or some the janitorial staff came by, scrubbing and buffing the floors (they were spotless already and I was totally fine with stretching out on their fine glassy finish). I'm sure they thought I was a) homeless, b) nuts and/or c)clueless, but to their credit, they kept their snickers to a minimum as they went about their business and left me to my solitude. And I do mean solitude.

Where was the line? what the heck....was I maybe a little aggressive in this line camp out? around 7.30, with nary another fan in sight I was having some second thoughts (third or fourth thoughts at that point in reality) and I gave Al (college roomie) a call. He still thought I was nuts and should just go back to the dorm and get in line in the morning. if we got shut out, we got shut out, he figured but I was adamant damnit, I was getting tickets. Except, it was pretty boring hanging out there all by myself and even though nobody had thrown me out, the security guard was eyeing me on every walk around. Finally around 8.30 he said, he was locking up and I couldn't stay in the atrium anymore. I said I was in line for Billy Joel tickets, and of course, he looked at me like I was b and c (mostly c I think in retrospect), and said he supposed I could start a line, but it was going to have to be outside and around the corner (I'm thinking it seemed to be a particularly windy corner too). Suddenly, those wise words from Al clicked in my mind, and I'm all like, ok. Time to head back to the dorm. Also, that is a long ass bus ride between st. paul and Minneapolis. I don't know what it's like now (yay a light rail and all) but it was after 10 before I got back to the dorm (to a couple sly smiles from my dormmates I might add).

But at least I got a good night's sleep before heading out in the morning to the Wax Museum on the west bank. And actually the line wasn't too long (in retrospect it was even shorter, but back then I was worried that the twenty people in front of me would take all the tickets). But the line moved well and other than some issues with me wanting to pay with travelers checks (ya, it baffles me to this day why I was going to do that), it sorted out (with a quick run back to the dorm and a mad rummage for cash) and I got our four tickets (Panka, Beddow, Al and I) and we were all good to go in a few months.

Our seats weren't too bad, off to the left of the floor and not too far up the rows. I think one ticket was just behind the other three, but I seem to recall a few empty seats so Al moved up to sit next to me. it's hard to trust my recollection of the show, because, although I've never been to another billy joel show, I've seen way too much live footage of him and it just all begins to blur. I do remember being bummed that there weren't more deep cuts from "The Stranger" and "52nd Street" (to say nothing of earlier hits), but I was more or less happy with the song list. "Goodnight Saigon" and "An Innocent Man" were highlights for me (especially interesting considering I was pretty indifferent to either song but they sure made an impression during that show) .

What I really do remember though, is he was (is) a total pro. He worked the crowd, he worked the band (take it away Liberty DeVito) he worked the keyboard, he hit all the right spots (even if he couldn't hit all the notes). At the time I pretty much thought he was on the back side of his career (and if you are looking at recordings, I was probably right), but in retrospect now, I realize he was pretty much at his peak when I saw him. Touring off his best selling album, still young enough to bring it, but experienced enough to work it for all it was worth. It was a fun show and although I've certainly seen a lot of shows since (and a lot of shows that had a deep and lasting influence on me) I'm still pretty happy that I got to see Billy Joel first.

Setlist (courtesy of Wikipedia so I claim nothing about accuracy, but this feels right)

1. "Prelude/Angry Young Man"
2. "My Life"
3. "Piano Man"
4. "Don't Ask Me Why"
5. "Allentown"
6. "Goodnight Saigon"
7. "Pressure"
8. "Leave a Tender Moment Alone"
9. "An Innocent Man"
10. "The Longest Time"
11. "This Night"
12. "Just The Way You Are"
13. "Scenes From An Italian Restaurant"
14. "Sometimes a Fantasy"
15. "It's Still Rock & Roll to Me"
16. "Uptown Girl"
17. "Big Shot"
18. "Tell Her About It"
19. "You May Be Right"
encore
20. "Only The Good Die Young"

Oh yeah, I didn't get any merch.

And I finally saw the police when they toured again in 2007. (and it was good, maybe not 20 some years good, but good)

2014-Year in Review-Shows

Was a light year on shows, although there were a couple pretty big ones that might have over-balanced the ledger (Paul McCartney and Fleetwood Mac).  but there were two that were especially memorable.

Kaiser Chiefs at First Avenue  (i wasn't in the mood, i didn't exactly love the 3x education, and i might have been over them anyway.  and yet i had a great time, reconsidered education, and went diving back into the back catalog and realized i'd been giving them the short straw for too long)

Fanfarlo at Triple Rock (they never let me down, super fun show)

2014-Year in Review-Singles

10. "From Now On" Delta Spirit
 9.  "Coming Home" Kaiser Chiefs
 8.  "Simple and Pure" Pains of Being Pure at Heart
 7.  "Staircase at the University" Morrissey
 6.  "Tourniquet" Jeremy Messersmith
 5.  "Airwaves/Ojai" Ray Lamontagne
 4.  "Seasons (Waiting on You)" Future Islands
 3.  "Milwaukee"  The Both
 2.  "Put Your Number in My Phone" Airel Pink
 1.  "Who Rings the Bell" Eno/Hyde

2014-Year in Review-Albums

Damn.  Didn't realize what a great year it was until I started compiling the lists.  Lots of great stuff didn't even make the short stack.  And I'm sure there are a few albums that I didn't really give a chance that will work their way into my life list (I'm looking at you, Ariel Pink and your "Pom Pom."  You got it, i know you do, I just didn't give it enough plays to compete with the big kids)

So before we hit the list, let's look at some contenders that just fell short:

Spoon-"They Want My Soul"  So nice to have them back, but sometimes consistent brilliance is a curse.
The New Pornographers-"Brill Bruisers"  Love it, and it would have been top ten if it would have just had that one song....
Kaiser Chiefs-"Education, Education, Education" (see below or above)
War on Drugs-"Lost in the Dream" I like, but just don't love compared to their other stuff.
Perfume Genius-"Too Bright" I thought this was top ten from the very first listen and my opinion has not changed, but how much is ten?  ten.
Sun Kil Moon-"Benji"  See, now no one got a present.
Ariel Pink-"Pom Pom"
Morrissey-"Business as Usual"  Really good and on Harvest.  how could i not love?
Ray Lamontagne-"Supernova" How can something I listened to so much not make top ten?
Rosanne Cash-"The River and the Thread"  This was a slow grower for me (especially compared to the list and cadillac), and as close to top ten as can be.

And now the top ten albums for 2014:

10.  Literature "Chorus"/FKA Twigs "LP1"  (Literature is a no brainer, but FKA Twigs has been coming on strong and i just can't choose between the two)
9.  Jenny Lewis-"The Voyager"  ok california sunny pop with a dark undercurrent.  great melodies, some serious lyrics and production out of the 70's.  yes. and thank you.
8.  Future Islands "Singles"  they named the album Singles.  and be damned if they weren't right.  compulsively listenable.
7.  TV on the Radio "Seeds"  Little known well known fact: I've never been that into TVOTR.  just a bit too much something (either trying to hard or pretentious, i can never tell), but with Seeds (it must be the keyboards or that they are willing to try traditional song structures) they hit my sweet spot.
6. Fanfarlo "Let's Go Extinct" Let's hope not.
5. Eno/Hyde "Someday World/High Life"  ok.  someday world would have been enough, but another great album in the same year?  excellent!
4. St. Vincent.  s/t  I have to admit this got lost in the shuffle.  and then i threw it in unaware and i was all..."wow, who is this?"  and then i shamed myself when i realized who it was.  but then i had a hit of dew and i felt better.
3. Ty Segall "Manipulator"  noisy.   a bit abrasive.  annoyingly recorded.  but so poppy.  i just kept hitting replay.
2.  Beck "Morning Phase"  ya ya.  but still.  plus it gives me goosebumps.  so there.
1.  Real Estate "Days"  i wasn't sure what was number one for the longest time.  i thought i had a lot of 3-7 items in my list.  then i put "Days" back in and everything fell into place and i couldn't remember why i had forgotten this in the first place.

So...Now....Are You Ready to Go (Redemption 7)

You have to realize, I went into it completely blind.  It wasn’t a particularly fertile period for my music listening.  Early 2000’s.  All the old familiars were getting a little too old and familiar and all the indie blog stuff wasn’t really happening yet (for me anyway).  I was back in the cities but with nary a penny to spare.  So off the library for a little random flipping through the music collection (Walker in Uptown if you are curious…whoever bought there back in the day always seemed to know what my musical taste was and where I had some glaring gaps…not that I ever met the person). 

“It Still Moves” caught my eye.  I think I thought I might have heard of My Morning Jacket.  Or at least it sounded like a band name I thought I knew or at least should have known.  And of course, a stuffed bear on the cover was a good sign.  So I grabbed it.  And once it was in my cd player, it immediately grabbed me back. 

“Sitting here with me and mine, all wrapped up in a bottle of wine.”  What a perfect introduction to the album, to the band, to the whole shebang.

Southern fried country rock crossed with the beach boys by way of neil young in a silo, with just a little eno/cale weirdness thrown in the mix. “Mahgeetah” was such an unlikely to be accessible mash of influences but so so immediately likeable.  I bet I had that song on repeat 4 or 5 times, before I even moved on to “Dancefloors.”  And even though southern boogie jam band wasn’t exactly my thing,  I’d have done the same thing with “Dancefloors, ” but I didn’t have far enough to drive.   But there was just something in the jam and boogie piano (with some lonesome steel guitar aping swinging from verse to verse in the background) and Jim James’ silo reverb vocals that had me completely engaged.  And then there was “Golden,” a loping throwback acoustic guitar driven ode to life on the road with a harmony filled chorus that kept me in the car running. 

So.

My.

Wheelhouse. 

I was in love; delighted and entranced by my “discovery”.  And that was just the first 3 songs! 

What other wonders awaited?  Well, suffice it to say, there isn’t a dud on “It Still Moves” ten years on, it still moves.  For every skynyrd there is a crazy horse, a time to wail and a time to croon, epic solos, hard charging riffs, and delicate guitar picking.  And that’s just “One Big Holiday.”  Then there is the languid beauty of “I Will Sing You Songs,” repeatedly on the verge of falling apart, but picking up just enough momentum each time to see another chorus, before it finally gets a roll on down the hill.     “Just don’t make it last any longer than it has to.”

“Easy Morning Rebel” still makes me smile.  Still sounds like it could have been on a jukebox in the corner bar when I was a kid.  And that riffing around the 3.40 mark building to the big guitar solo is so great.  And I’m not really a guitar jam guy.  Same for “Run Thru.”  Just enough tension between the big guitars riffs and Yim’s wordless chorus to carry me through jams I wouldn’t have the patience to bear on any other sleeve. 

Smart sequencing drives the album, never too deep into the jams, rockers give way to mid tempo tracks and the ballads aren’t afraid to rip (without getting too power ballad).  And although it’s rare to have a song under 3 minutes (just one song is around 3 minutes and that one is over way too soon), the songs never feel too long.  The musicianship, the arrangements, the singing and an armload of memorable melodies all around create enough variety within each track to keep length from ever being a repetitive burden.  The longest songs just feel like a natural evolution of an idea instead of a hard forced journey for lengths sake, which is saying a lot for someone like me, who is a firm believer in the church of the 3 minute pop song.  But those 71 minutes of “It Still Moves”  fly by and I’m holding up on “One and the Same” even more than the band does, hoping to extend the visit just a little longer.

I knew I had stumbled upon a great band that day.  I immediately began making plans for a road trip to test out the album.  Because of course, although I could listen to the album in my place, music always sounds best on the road (scientifically proven) and I had a feeling, long since proven out, that My Morning Jacket albums are even more suited for long drives out in the middle of nowhere with only the occasional yard light sparking in the long dark of nothing.

PS:   I don’t think “It Still Moves” is My Morning Jacket’s best album.  And it doesn’t even have my favorite MMJ song on it. (and although my best all time moment with an album, any album, was with an MMJ album, it was not with this one), but it is and always will be my favorite MMJ AND one of my all-time favorite albums.

A Blue Ribbon On My Brain (Redemption 6)

What makes the magic that is the National?  The songs you say? Perhaps.  There are certainly some gems within their discography, strongly (songly?) written melodies and lyrically deft and wise.  Is it their persona as fiercely independent intelligent indie outsiders breaking into the mainstream?  Their almost losers status made good does make them golden and certainly appealing.  But more than anything, what makes the National them and uniquely them is how in the interplay between abilities and philosophies they produce records that reflect their individuality as well as a uniquely collective vision.

Think about Matt.  Matt’s skills are his considerable ability to write non sequitur lyrics (that somehow add up to more than the sum of their individual parts), his charismatic live performances and his general all around handsome-manness, not his vocal prowess.  He’s a rocker and a shouter and he’s all about emotion and fury (and not a little bit of well caged drunkenness) and completely unlike anyone else in the band.   And for sure, his voice has some pretty strict limitations, especially in range and expression (either mournful or howling).  But beyond the obvious limitations Matt’s voice has, it does have a nice tone, especially in evoking world weariness and a certain haunted restless dissatisfaction; said milieu suiting the National’s musical aesthetic perfectly.  Think about it, if Matt’s voice were an instrument of Bubleian grandeur, it would overwhelm all the other aspects of the band.  It is a case of limitations becoming strength.  Listen to the guitars in “All the Wine” supporting Matt’s voice, giving the illusion of range.  It’s the guitars and bass providing the color in the chorus while Matt’s haughty baritone is singing the hell out of the beat.  Nothing really traditional in terms of arrangement, but everything perfectly balanced to brilliant net affect.

It is the guitar work of the brothers Dessner that give most of the National songs their humming power.  The carefully accented guitar filigrees and angular guitar lines expand the melodic reach of the compositions, extending the Beringer baritone from black and white into vivid Technicolor.  “Wasp’s Nest” is barely a monotone of a melody but with the ringing guitars cupping Matt’s voice, the song soars with a generous sprinkling of sugary Christmas bell beats.   “About Today” is yet another perfect example of this balance between monobaritone and chiming guitars (with perfectly drawn drum beats providing just a little hope to move the hopeless song into morning).  But that’s not to say the guitar solo doesn’t have a place in the National record arsenal.  “Abel” (tied with blood buzz for my favorite national song) pins all it’s promise on guitar god work (and Matt’s most unhinged vocal ever).  Would that the Dessners became more regularly unhinged in their guitar playing.  But again, would we want Matt to have to shout all the time to keep the balance?  And what would the National be if they had to be a four by four rhythm section providing structural support for guitar god roof raising?  (pretty much any other neglected indie band that had their moment in the sun, I’d wager)

Keyboards in National songs usually play a lot of the same rolls the guitar figures do, providing melody and breadth, but staying in the background for the most part.  However, there are a few National songs that use piano more predominantly if unconventionally, rolling out rhythmic figures and loping chords against the outlines of songs like a tuned drum. 

Really though, it’s the rhythm section and most specifically the drums that are the not so secret weapon in any National song.  Whether it’s the geese in Beverly Hills, fake empires, or buzzing in Ohio, the drumming and bass provide the beating heart to every National song.  Intricate, propulsive and always detailed, the brainy drumming never settles on the obvious beat or approach.  The bass playing perfectly jumps from melodic to foundational support on a dime.  The rhythm sections grants a depth and complexity to the simplest National tune. The brothers Devendorf’s work has become progressively more pronounced in the mix as the band has grown and has become more assured and complex.  So integral to the National “sound” is the drumming that it’s practically in a dead heat with Matt’s voice (another slightly less intricately syncopated monotone) as the single most identifiable aspect of the National sound.  

Now go and listen to your favorite National song.  Listen for the guitar line or piano line that opens the song, wait a beat for the insistent hesitant poly playful drumming contradicting or chasing the melody line around the center of the song, listen for the burdened hum of Matt’s vocals at the center of the swirl.   The order of introduction, the keys and the time signature might change just a little, but the elements will all be there.  It’s only a question of the mix and how high the sky goes and how deep the chaos gets.  It’s always a universe onto itself.  It’s a National song.

I Can't Say in the End (Redemption 5)

A long long time ago.

We’d spent the day in Comstock, at my uncle’s place, for a family picnic and were heading back to the farm in the long summer evening. The August air was fuzzy with heat, humidity and the assurance of storms.  I sat in the back of the car, listening to AM radio on my ginormous radio headphones (one of the best Christmas presents ever, btw). Dire Straits and storm watches.  Farm fields rolling by, cows and crops pressed flat to the earth by the weight of the day.  Silly Love songs against a sky rouged as the sun slid towards the clouded horizon. 

And then.  and then. It happened. An orchestral opening; followed by gently strummed guitars and a haunted voice singing from another universe, strings rich as rainfall wavering in the mix.  A panoramic chorus no companion as the song drew back down to the single voice.

“Gazing at people, some hand in hand.  Just what I’m going through, they can’t understand.” 

Maybe it was because the charged ionosphere rattled the signal, but each element of the song; the plaintive flute, the hushed drums, the swell of strings, the trumping horns and plucky harp, the final gong was perfectly highlighted, enhanced even, by the warp and weave of the radio waves as the song sought out the receiver in my brain.

I was completely and utterly transfixed, somewhere between the car, the ominious sky and some mysterious other world where letters were written, but not meant to send.  Surfing the radio waves as the song built to a grand crescendo of strings.

Then a pause.

And the narration began; “Breath deep, the gathering gloom” sent goosebumps up and down my arms.  Each line seemed equally prophetic and apropos (even if i'm not still not completely sure what it is supposed to be about), “another’s day’s useless energy spent,” spinning me into space me  with the closing line, “but we decide which is right, and which is an illusion.”  The song faded out but I was still held in limbo practically unable to move.  Radio static filled my mind for ten seconds, no dj, no music, sky red with dread and building clouds chasing the car.  But I was not even in the car.  Just some other place and time, captured by the radio waves and flung into the ether for what seemed like a lifetime. 

Then.  In the distance. Distant electronic sounds fading in an out.  A ringing telephone calling.  Drawing me back into view.  “Hello, how are you?  have you been all right?”  A lifeline offered to me from the capricious waves showing me the way back.  “Hey, how you feeling?”  With each verse and chorus I came a little bit closer to myself.

“Telephone line, give me some time.  I’m living in twilight.”

By the fade I was back in the car, shaken and glorious for all that the seven other people had noticed my experience and absence.

We made it home just before the storm broke.

Best long song ever?  “Nights in White Satin/Telephone Line” accidental mash up.