Author: Noel Nocciolo

Something Corporate’s “Leaving Through The Window” Ten Years Later

by Noel Nocciolo

Tuesday May 7, 2002. I walked from my dorm room six blocks to Tower Records on 66th and Broadway.  I bought all of my music at Tower Records, as well as rented videos there when I wanted to avoid a term paper.  I have long since graduated and Tower no longer exists.  A lot happens in a decade.

I went to buy Something Corporate’s first full-length major label-released album, “Leaving Through The Window.”  I knew I would love it, and oh did I.

I had heard the single, “If U C Jordan” and it’s B-side, the epic-emo piano ballad “Konstantine” a year earlier on a free CD sampler Drive-Thru Records had distributed at a show.  (Possibly at the Knitting Factory in Tribeca or Brownie’s in the East Village…neither still exist)  I didn’t particularly care for the single, but the B-side melted me.

I immediately bought their EP, “Audioboxer,” which contained earlier versions of several songs from “Leaving Through The Window.”

On release day, I popped the CD into my DiscMan, put on headphones and sunglasses, and sat cross-legged at the Lincoln Center fountain.  I listened to all of it, front to back (as albums should be heard) without stopping.  Here, in the backyard of my college campus, I was totally and completely in love.

The draw of this band as an early-twenties female, was the piano, and singer/pianist/lyricist Andrew McMahon’s way of being young and vulnerable in his writing.  There were so many bands like they in this cross-section of the late 90s-early 2000s, but Something Corporate had a prominent piano to complement the singer’s nasal-y tone.  The piano made it less typical.  I didn’t hear any other early-twenties guys playing the piano and writing lyrics like, “For goodness sake I think I’m on the edge/of something new with you/shout out don’t drown the sound/I’ll drown you out/you’ll never scream so loud/as I wanna scream with you” and then proceeding to make the bridge of that song (“Hurricane”) a piano riff.  To me, at this stage of my life, this was the epitome of sexy.

My Something Corporate adoration came up recently in conversation with a close friend.  He asked why I didn’t just listen to Ben Folds in college.  I did.  Was “Rocking The Suburbs” a better album than “Leaving Through The Window”?  Yes, probably, and coincidentally released within months of each other.  Ben Folds was, and is, an adult; the underlying difference I didn’t realize at the time.  You could relate to Folds’ quirkiness. There surely was a piano and Folds plays it and WELL. Something Corporate and McMahon related to me in that college-girl sort of way. Folds was an adult. McMahon was a peer. Somehow you feel as though you have a shot with your peers.  Some of the underlying appeal of “SoCo” was my thinking there was a future possibility of having a beer with Andrew McMahon. Adults are in another league.

In August of 2010, my friends Jack, Nate and Rachel, made my summer (and possibly year) complete and took me to the NYC date of the Something Corporate reunion tour. I was shut-out from properly buying tickets, but my friends made it happen in a very big way.  We sat in a balcony box, side-stage at Roseland Ballroom. I proceeded to freak out like I was seeing The Beatles. Rachel knew this secret (or not-so) love of mine of SoCo; she lived through college with me. Jack remembered the day back in 2003 when he mentioned that his band was to open for SoCo on the West Coast and I cried like a total freak. But Nate…poor Nate had no idea what was about to happen. There was singing, dancing, fist pumping, whiskey-drinking, tears during the ballads. It was a full-on contact sport, this Something Corporate reunion show. I felt free and alive and like I was in undergrad trying to figure out who I was and what I wanted. Nate, bless his heart, finally understood the fan-dom around this band, and enjoyed the show, (because I was both a lunatic and his friend) far more than he’d ever enjoyed them. He saw a side to me that, though endearing, was mildly frightening, I’m sure.

After, I was within feet of my “peer rather than adult” Andrew McMahon. I said nothing and asked not to be introduced.  I could, literally, have had a beer with someone I would have loved to meet eight years prior. I left it alone. That right there, was perfect.

“Leaving Through The Window” is ten years old. I listen all the way through once a year, but listening this time while writing this piece, brought me back to 2002, hard.  I made a list of the friends and peers from college. I thought of those who: now are married, have children, are no longer in touch with me, are gracing magazines and billboards with their projects, have started businesses, have moved up the ladder at their company, have moved out of the city of our college experience. I held the memory of walking to a store that no longer exists, to buy a CD, to listen in a DiscMan, rather than importing into iTunes…ten years does not seem ilke a long time, and yet enough to digest that things are different.

From “I Want To Save You” to “Globes And Maps,” this album was the center of my musical love a decade ago.

Geekscape Music Reivews Those Galloping Hordes “Things I Grew Up With”

by Noel Nocciolo

Somehow I am just now realizing that “emo and hardcore music” are less innovative versions of prog-rock.

Let us think about it: there are often electronic touches and dudes are a bit more sad than the happier harmonies found in the Yes canon.  Akin to hippie-jam-bands, there are sprawling guitar solos.  Drum solos.  Bass solos.  Synth solos.  Solos.  Noodling.  Head bopping.  Jamming.  I say “less innovative” because somehow I just can’t imagine Greg Lake shouting in lieu of his sweet singing.

(Music history note:  Let us be clear that Emerson, Lake and Palmer, Genesis, Yes and a few others, created prog-rock to the wet dreams of misunderstood men everywhere.  Our modern music would sound quite different had these cats not existed.)

For those into “hardcore” and “emo” (labels! labels!) of the last ten or so years, I would suggest “Things I Grew Up With” by Those Galloping Hordes.

Those Galloping Hordes Album Cover

The opening track, “Mr. Jacob Geehr” is an expressive dreamy soundscape of delightful randomness: chimes, and xylophones and synth lines jamming away.  “A Melancholy Association With A Tragedy” (hark! do I hear a flute?!) incorporates a small, but poignant vocal into a mostly instrumental track.  The vocals are sparse on the album; it’s all mostly instrumental.  When there is a vocal, it’s either a pleasant to the soundscape or somewhat cacophonous to match the soundscape.  There are dashes of “typical hardcore band-type screaming vocals” but if that is not for you, there is enough elsewhere on the album that will be for you.

To hear Those Galloping Hordes and purchase this digital album visit their Facebook 

Noel Nocciolo’s Favorite Albums of 2011

by Noel Nocciolo

My criteria is always the same year after year; it has to be solid (in my own version of what that means) the whole way through.  

 

Putting yourself out there is difficult, for an artist of any kind.  In a world empowered by opinions, warranted or not, and critique, correct or not, always makes for eyebrow-raising at these sorts of lists.  Below are my favorites. I can’t really say that I know what “best” means, but if it’s on the list, I enjoyed the production, passion, execution & writing.

 

 

 

10)  The Vaccines, What Did You Expect From The Vaccines?

 

Why wasn’t this album bigger?  I’m a sucker for songs that short and gritty.  And British dudes.

Favorites:  Post Break-Up Sex, If You Wanna, Wreckin’ Bar (Ra Ra Ra)

 

9)  The Weeknd, House Of Balloons/Thursday/Echoes Of Silence

 

The music interwebs blew up each time The Weeknd dropped one of his trilogy of mixtapes.  Because no one likes to pay for music anyways, he took the “Rappers Wanting To Break” route and made three mixtapes, which you may download and enjoy, gratis.  This is some chilled-out, “Whoops, did I just chase a quaalude with my vodka-soda?” mood music, i.e. let’s make out….or I might need a good, soulful cry & don’t want to play Adele.

Favorites: D.D., Life Of The Party, High For This

 

8)  Lykke Li, Wounded Rhymes

 

Another solid, haunting, album from a girl who is “strange” in all the best ways.

Favorites:  Youth Knows No Pain, I Follow Rivers, Sadness Is A Blessing, Get Some

 

#6, #7 & #8 on my list of favorites this year are sophomore albums made by women, and their debuts were fantastic.  The idea of a “sophomore slump” is nothing but blame and laziness; these three made albums that were on par with or arguably better than their first; no easy feat.

 

7)  Lady GaGa, Born This Way

 

 

I am in absolute love with the sheer musical talent that is behind the persona of Lady GaGa.  A Warhol-era performance artist, who is a pop star, but was classically trained.

Favorites:  You & I, Born This Way, Government Hooker, The Edge Of Glory

 

6)  Adele, 21

 

Yep, it’s your Mom’s favorite album.  And your moody older sister’s.  And your Grandma’s.  Guess what?  It’s good.  It’s actually REALLY good.  Well-thought out.  Sad as hell.  Gorgeous.  Kanye better take a cleansing deep breath, because homegirl is going to kill it at the Grammys.

Favorites:  He Won’t Go, Set Fire To The Rain, Rolling In The Deep, Lovesong (The Cure cover)

 

5)  Lupe Fiasco, Friend Of The People

 

Lupe is not one to hold back his true feelings on what he feels are the issues and injustices running rampant in our generation. Put down the video game console, download this mixtape for free and listen.  Fair-weather hip-hop fans will be riveted by his rapid-fire intellect and flow.  Well-placed samples, most notably from Ellie Goulding & Bassnectar, M83 and Justice, and he had the balls to title one of the tracks, “WWJD He’d Prolly LOL Like WTF.”  I grew up in a small town with fifty Christian churches and zero diversity.  To me, this is the greatest song title, ever.

Favorites:  WWJD He’d Probably LOL Like WTF!!!, Friend Of The People feat. Dosage, SNDCLSH In Vegas, Lightwork

 

4)  Various Artists, Rave On, Buddy Holly

 

A tribute album, while hearts (mostly) in the right place, can be risky at best, and sucky at worst.  This one is pretty incredible. To commemorate what would have been Buddy Holly’s 70th birthday, a nice spread of artists contributed to Rave On.  Only a few were downright self-indulgent and weird (I’ll give a pass to Paul McCartney; he owns Holly’s publishing) most were spot-on and lovely.  Kid Rock has an amazing voice, in case you didn’t know.  Fiona Apple & Jon Brion give a requisite loveliness to “Everyday,” one of Holly’s most well-known.  Florence + The Machine, Justin Townes Earle, Nick Lowe & Graham Nash are all stand-outs.

Favorites: Changing All Those Changes, Maybe Baby, Well All Right, (You’re So Square) Baby I Don’t Care

 

3)  Tally Hall, &

 

 

I wrote about this album upon its release here.

Everything I wrote, times ten.  Love Love Love.

Favorites: You, Cannibal, Never Meant To Know, Turn The Lights Off

 

2)  Wilco, The Whole Love

 

 

 

While it is no secret to anyone half-paying attention to this site, that I am a HUGE Wilco fan. Like Moms with kids, I try not to pick a favorite, but may I just say that this particular kid is leaps and bounds beyond the last two. Songwriting is kicked up a (already lofty) notch, band is tight and stellar.

Favorites:  Art Of Almost, Standing O, I Might, Black Moon

 

1)  Tom Waits, Bad As Me

 

Tom Waits does it his way.  If you like it, great.  If you “get it,” even better.  He truly does not care if you don’t like his music, and is legitimately charming, though guarded, whenever he speaks to the press.  He and his writer-wife raised their kids in Northern California, rather than in the hustle of Los Angeles.  They create his work and he releases something every few years.  He tours sporadically.  Waits controls Waits.  This particular album has slid into being one of my all-time favorites in his catalog; equal parts weird, jazzy, touching and everything in the middle.  (+ 1 Keith Richards on a couple of tracks) And as I type this, while listening to the album for the umpteenth time, just before the new year…I hear, really hear, the closing track, “New Years Eve” for the first time.

Favorites:  Right Raised Men, Kiss Me, New Year’s Eve

 

Geekscape’s Top Singles Of 2011

by Noel Nocciolo

I didn’t think I was a cheeseball full-fledged pop music-loving sap, but as I made this list, I realized that I am.  (If you don’t enjoy Robyn, then I don’t enjoy you)  I’m fully embracing that Lady GaGa is on my list more than once.

There is tremendous power in our associations with music, even when our associations are difficult.  Thankfully, many videos these days offer us dance moves and costume changes.

Below are my favorite songs of this past year.

15) Helena Beat

 

Foster The People
Find out what would happen if Lord Of The Flies took place in the desert and as a music video.

14)  We Are Young

 

fun. featuring Janelle Monae
Look out, 2012.

GLEE version:

13) Born To Die

 

Lana Del Rey
I will forever associate this song with my friend, Clare, who passed away on Christmas Day, way too young, with way too much still to give and to become.  And no one was looking more forward to Del Rey’s debut album (due in January) than Clare.

12)  Every Teardrop Is A Waterfall

 

Coldplay
Please don’t judge its emo title; I promise its good.  Acid-trip paint splashes and Brian Eno-fications.

11)  We Found Love

 

Rihanna featuring Calvin Harris
There was no getting away from this jam in 2011, much like Katy Perry’s “Teenage Dream” in 2010; catchy catchy catchy as hell pop music, provocative video bordering on not suitable for children.  Plus a Chris Brown doppelganger!

10)  Made In America (feat. Frank Ocean)

 

Jay-Z & Kanye West
That hook!  Frank’s angelic voice!

9)  Countdown

 

Beyonce
It just doesn’t leave your head once it gets in there.  If it make me smile, I don’t complain.

8)  I Can’t Make You Love Me/Nick Of Time

 

Bon Iver
Really never thought I’d hear a white dude with a beard cover Bonnie Raitt with such soul.  Well done.

7)  Sadness Is A Blessing

 

Lykke Li
This video.  THIS VIDEO.  Could you just….I don’t know, die of stoic Swedish overload in this video?! I want to live in a world where I can dance odd interpretive dances when I receive bad news.

6)  You & I

 

Lady GaGa
There goes GaGa, with another legend sitting in on a track (Brian May from Queen shredding guitar), bending expectation by pop-rocking on a piano.
Absolutely bizarre (putting it mildly…) visuals to go with an absolutely ass-kicking raw song.

5)  Ni**as in Paris

 

Jay-Z & Kanye West
While a sense of propriety keeps me from saying the actual title, I f-ing love this record.  And sampling Will Ferrell?  It’s provocative.

4)  Call Your Girlfriend

 

Robyn
Pop music.  I like pop music.  A whole lot.  Especially when it’s THIS good.  And then there is a video to accompany it that is off-the-wall badass…and that’s also good.

3)  Words I Never Said

 

Lupe Fiasco ft. Skylar Grey
Not for the faint of heart, or for those who lack passion.

2)  Rolling In The Deep

 

Adele
This was everywhere this year, that’s for sure.  Even my Dad (Neil Young’s biggest fan) liked it.  Homegirl has presence even sitting stoically in a CHAIR, for crying out loud.
I think what I like most about this record is its vulnerability.  I associate it with my friend, Melanie, who has spent this year kicking cancer’s ass.  When Mel began chemotherapy, she chose to shave her head, ceremoniously with her family; a variation of Demi Moore in “G.I. Jane.”  Rolling In The Deep was what was playing as she stood up, hair on the ground…it was what was playing when she first knew she would be ok.


1)  The Edge Of Glory

 

Lady GaGa
Less for the official video, and more for the song.  I love the Big Man, Clarence Clemons, of the E Street Band, and this was his the last record he tracked.  His sax MAKES the song.  Perfect.

The Google Chrome commercial speaks to my childhood, when I was a dancer.  Before I worried about what I find myself worrying about now, as an adult.  Paws up, geeks.


Geekscape Music Reviews: Tally Hall, Good & Evil

by Noel Nocciolo

June 21st will mark the release of Michigan/Brooklyn band, Tally Hall’s long-awaited second album, “Good & Evil.”  If you make any purchase this month towards music and something amazing, let it be this.

 

It’s putting it mildly that a ton of life happens in the span of six years.  In 2005, their debut, “Marvin’s Marvelous Mechanical Museum” was recorded and released, first by an independent label and then re-released by a major label.  It was quirky and fun and funny and lovely and there was a song about bananas….and it was six years ago.  Needless to say, people grow up while in their formative twenties, and “Good & Evil” reflects that, without sounding like the band had a lobotomy.

 

Tally Hall spawned out of the University of Michigan, where the members met as undergrads.  Since then as a collective: they perform in suits with colored ties, they graduated, they chose to put science degrees on hold, they deferred competitive graduate programs, they recorded a full-length album with a producer who has also produced Beck and Belle & Sebastian, they toured, they played Lollapalooza, they are preparing to take the MCAT and finish degrees, they moved to Brooklyn, they became DJs, they composed music for non-Tally Hall projects, they moved back to Ann Arbor.  They are typical twenty-somethings in the twenty-first century; growing, allowing change and not only wanting one thing. 

 

What isn’t quite as typical, is that they’re a smart group of dudes.  As evidenced by their recordings.  And by Geekscape’s adoration during last year’s SXSW.  Case in point:  “The Tally Hall Internet Show.”  Check it and watch all of the episodes.  But only if you like to laugh from the depths of your guts at the irreverent and the witty, and/or have a random obsession with the Olsen Twins.

 

“Good & Evil” hooked me at first track: “Never Meant To Know” is an oddly bright and understandably dark (the great juxtaposition set forth by the album) look at our collectively unknown future and includes a McCartney-like bass line.  “&” is cerebral, story-telling pop music.  “Cannibal” makes me hate my gender as a whole, BUT the drum part is so delicious, I am momentarily ok with women sucking.  “You” is the kind of sweet-nerd love song that releases my inner “Where-Is-My-John-Cusack-Equivalent-Holding-Up-A-Boombox-Playing-THIS-Instead-Of-Peter-Gabriel?!” moments.

 

By making bold choices, for better or worse, you are opened up to becoming what you always wanted to be.  This album, like so many others, can’t really be confined to genre, especially since there are multiple songwriters within the group, with different influences, talents and ways of thinking.  If you like quirky, thoughtful and sprawling, this is an album for you.

Tally Hall will be hitting the road in July and August for their only tour in support of the album.  I encourage and implore you to get yourself to a show to see them.

 

Tally Hall’s 2011 Tour Dates, in support of “Good & Evil”:

 

July 21, Grand Rapids, MI @ The Intersection

July 22, Ann Arbor, MI @ Blind Pig

July 23, Chicago, IL @ Lincoln Hall

July 24, Minneapolis, MN @ First Avenue

July 26, Denver, CO @ Hi-Dive

July 27, Provo, UT @ Velour Live

July 28, Boise, ID @ Visual Arts Collective

July 29, Seattle, WA @ Vera Project

July 30, Portland, OR @ Mississippi Studios

August 1, San Francisco, CA @ The Bottom Of The Hill

August 2, Los Angeles, CA @ The Troubadour

August 3, Phoenix, AZ @ The Rhythm Room

August 5, Dallas, TX @ House of Blues (Cambridge Room)

August 6, Austin, TX @ Emo’s

August 7, Houston, TX @ House of Blues (Bronze Peacock)

August 9, Nashville, TN @ 3rd & Lindsley

August 10, St. Louis, MO @ Firebird

August 12, Washington, D.C. @ The Rock N’ Roll Hotel

August 13, Philadelphia, PA @ Johnny Brenda’s 

August 14, Baltimore, MD @ The Metro Gallery

August 16, Westport, CT @ Toquet Hall Student Coffeehouse

August 17, Boston, MA @ Great Scott

August 18, Ithaca, NY @ The Haunt

August 19, New York, NY @ Bowery Ballroom

August 20, Pittsburgh, PA @ Mr. Small’s Theater

 

Verve Records & Rockstar Games Present L.A. Noire // Remixed

by Noel Nocciolo

My most recent foray into video games was in 1992.  My cousin, Tyler, and I were glued to the Super Nintendo Entertainment System and Super Mario World.  The sound effects!  The delicately masked Japanese design!  Yoshi and the eggs and the Mario capes!  I loved it.  Dinosaur Land was an absolute blast for someone who hadn’t exhibited any real want to have her own videogames at home.  We played for hours and hours, and I was never very good, but it didn’t matter; we had fun.  Tyler tried his hardest to show me the secrets to being a better player, just like what he’d do in the backyard with a baseball and glove.  I was never supposed to be exemplary at either game, but it was some of the most fun I had as a kid.

The bottom line?  I don’t know anything about video games.  I don’t pretend to know anything about video games.  I’m happy they exist, much like how I’m pleased things like Balinese drumming exists; it’s cool and exotic, and I have no idea how to go about processing it intelligently, but I sincerely applaud those who do.

Rockstar Games will release L.A. Noire on May 17th.  Jonathan will tell you his thoughts and I will likely smile and nod politely as I read.

What I CAN tell you?  The six song EP, Verve Records and Rockstar Games Present L.A. Noire / Remixed, which will be released simultaneously in conjunction with L.A. Noire, is AWESOME.

Without compromising the integrity of the original artists and recordings, remix-masters curated a thoughtful look at six decades-old jazz offerings.  Many of the tracks feel like they should be blasting from the speakers of too-cool-for-school hotels and lounges.  Here are my favorites:

The Ticklah remix of Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Jordan’s “Stone Cold Dead In The Market” augmented the reggae flavor of the original for 2011 swagga.

Lionel Hampton’s “Hey-Ba-Ba-Re-Ba,” is now a dance track.  Home run.

TV On The Radio jack-of-all-trades, Dave Sitek left his mark on Dinah Washington’s “Slick Chick,” with just enough ambient beats underneath.

Billie Holliday’s “That Old Devil Called Love,” formerly an orchestral arrangement now has an electronic groove and…..crickets?  Sounds like a cricket effect buried in the track?  Whatever the editing magic, it’s groovy.

Add a little diversity to your ears; this is a must-hear.

 

Geekscape Music Reviews Nick Lowe’s “Labour Of Lust”

by Noel Nocciolo

One of my highlights of the high school-aged romantic comedies of the late nineties, a.k.a. when I was in high school and relating, was 10 Things I Hate About You.  I clearly remember Save Ferris, one of my absolute favorite bands of that era, performing at The Big Dance Of The Movie, followed by a performance by Letters To Cleo.  Julia Stiles’ character freaked out to Heath Ledger’s when Letters To Cleo started playing Nick Lowe’s “Cruel To Be Kind.”  Ledger told Stiles that he had “called in a favor” and she kissed him, right there on the dance floor, in grand High School Hollywood style. 

This was my first glimpse into the world of Nick Lowe.  In hindsight, it’s both pathetic and hilarious.  If only understanding were as simple as calling in a favor to impress a girl. 

Nick Lowe’s epic second solo album, “Labour Of Lust” is to be re-issued Tuesday on Yep Roc records.  Previously out of print for nearly twenty years, you’ll be able to purchase on vinyl, CD and (twenty-first century drumroll, please) digitally.  No one is messing around here; there are bonus tracks, a booklet with Barney Bubbles artwork and new essays.  This release follows Yep Roc’s 2008 re-issue of Lowe’s solo debut, “Jesus Of Cool.”

This album…has a lot of sex on it.  I hear it as a bubbling XY chromosome-filled pile of rock.  (Pun on purpose!  If you aren’t chuckling, it’s cool, move on.)

One of my favorites is “Love So Fine.”  It’s a simple rock and roll song.  Can’t things just be simple every once in awhile?  (I mean “simple” in the nicest sense of the word)  I think they should be.  There’s even a fade out.  Lyrics: “Wait until I see her again/tonight I’m gonna tell her that I don’t wanna be just friends/She’s got a pair of tits that just won’t quit/Everything that she’s got, I like it a lot/She’s so fine, a love so fine”

The song that clocks in at less than two minutes, in the middle of the track listing, that epitomizes the need for calm emotional honesty on an album of forthright male (albeit mildly sensitive male) rock songs, is “You Make Me.”  Devastatingly beautiful: “I strive to be strong/But I’m weak/You say what useless excuse is this/You make me/I try with my might/To have and to hold/But there’s something to it/That I can’t control/See I haven’t loosed my love/I’m just confused by love/You make me”

In my college years following my memory of 10 Things I Hate About You, I heard the original version of “Cruel To Be Kind,” the first song on “Labour of Lust, “and its subsequent chart-topping single.  I also remember hearing the iconic gem penned by Lowe, recorded by Elvis Costello, “(What’s So Funny Bout) Peace, Love, and Understanding” and its subsequent B-side, “American Squirm.”  I noted, but didn’t digest.  I wouldn’t digest, as I would later learn, for a few more years and a friendship with someone I hadn’t met yet.  Then again, do we ever totally digest the artists that mean the most to us?

Nick Lowe

Post-college, through my obsessive scouring of each and every liner note of CDs or vinyl in my collection, as well as everyone else’s collection that I’d come in contact with, my eyes widened with the realization that Nick Lowe was the cat who produced “My Aim Is True,” “This Year’s Model”, “Armed Forces”, “Get Happy!!”, and “Trust.”  These are otherwise known as the first five Elvis Costello albums.  Oh. My. God.  Who IS this man?!

I went to see him, last autumn, with a very good friend who not only is a huge fan, but also a talented individual on the path of emulation.  In the lobby on the way in was a leather jacket-clad one Huey Lewis, rolling solo.  I still ask myself why I didn’t buy the man a beer and strike up a conversation?  Sadly, we cannot go back in time.  (Or…back to the future?)

Nick Lowe and his band blew me away.  Simple.  Real.  Deliberate.  Go if you’ve the chance.  When something really hits, a film, show of some sort, book ending, I tend not to be able to talk for a good five to ten minutes afterwards, because I’m coming down from the experience.  It took me awhile to get out of there with any semblance of English language sentences.  Good sign.

“Labour of Lust” like “My Aim Is True” for Elvis, is a nice place to start if there’s a spark of interest.  “Lust” has gems that bear repeated listens and lives up to its uncanny and pointed title.

Ms. Lauryn Hill – A Geekscape Music Review

by Noel Nocciolo

Just before the turn of the New Year, I went to see Lauryn Hill perform with a full band (thirteen people in all, including Hill) at a smallish club in Brooklyn.  I have been debating sharing my thoughts on the experience with you, the phenomenal, discerning ‘Scapists, since it’s not altogether positive.  (There’s a lot of negative “music critic types” out there, and I’ve always prided myself on not being in that circle…)

I had many, many musings cross my mind as I heard about her New York City club shows, as I purchased a ticket (something I rarely do these days; unless I really, truly, want to be present at something) right as they went on sale.  It’s 2010-2011, not 1998-1999.  A lot has changed since Hill was in an album cycle and in the public eye.  I knew going into it, it would be roll of the dice for what kind of show we all would be privy to attending.

What I didn’t expect was for my mind to be in overdrive during the entire, nearly two-hour set.

I should back up a moment.

1998’s The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill was one of the first albums I heard in my young adulthood that matured with me. I have a few favorites from that era but albums like Reel Big Fish, Why Do They Rock So Hard? and Save Ferris, It Means Everything will always remind me of a time and place, and specific friends, even if I pick up the discs after years without hearing.  Pinkerton sat under my Christmas tree in 1996, and I remember exactly how I felt when I first popped it into my Discman, and sat on the floor of my room, in awe. 

Do you have albums that for the first time in your conscious thinking, don’t represent a time and place, but evolve with you as you change?  For me, Miseducation is that record.  I loved the songs when I first heard them as a kid in high school, and they grew with my life experiences. 

Hearing “Ex-Factor” multiple times in my twenties, at the end of relationships, seared me and the experience I was living, falling out of love…or being the one with whom another had fallen out of love…as though I heard it for the first time.  I could plug my experience into the song, and I felt odd comfort.   The guitar licks on that track devastated; it was like she knew how the musical equivalent of pulling off a Band-Aid on delicate flesh would sound; and it was an electric riff. 

“When It Hurts So Bad” was a similar experience.  “And what you need, ironically, will turn out what you want to be, if you just let it,” and I suddenly realize that I needed to change a tactic in my professional work.  This is the magic of music, and why it is among the MOST powerful of all the art forms.  It’s cerebral, it’s emotional, it’s raw and the best songs either set a mood or make you think.  I still pick up on wordplay whose true meaning I hadn’t considered to date while hearing “Everything Is Everything” and “Doo Wop (That Thing).”  I wouldn’t have heard it that way at seventeen; I didn’t have the life experience to really pick up on what she was laying down.

Music reminds us that our experiences really aren’t that unique, and that we are human.

Hill’s show left me questioning artistry, money, self-righteousness, self-awareness, mental illness, and drug use.

Doors to the show were at 7:30 pm.  There was no opening act.  The promoter was onto a good idea to have the venue’s bar run drink specials, to get the patrons good and loose for what was about to go down.  I arrived about 9pm, thinking she would start by 10pm, latest.  Two and a half hours after doors opening is logic for anyone on Planet Earth except for Lauryn Hill or Sly Stone.  Even for someone who is notoriously late and operating on her own plane.

At a little past eleven, her DJ came out to a crowd growing increasingly impatient.  He blew through a medley of all of the East Coast hip hop legends to “warm up the crowd and Ms. Hill”.  Tribe, Biggie, Busta, Wu Tang, Jay-Z.  OK, sure; fun for about ten minutes.  Then it became tedious, and it went on.  And on.  DJ had one of the more thankless jobs in Hill’s crew.  About 11:45, eight others that made up her band emerged; guitarists, bassist, keys, drums.  They tuned up to the DJs choices.  A few of the restless natives threw bottles at the empty microphone, center stage.  I can’t say I blamed them.  One of the dudes on keys taped up a sign to the front of his instrument that said, “I Was On Time.”

At 12:03am, Ms. Lauryn Hill (her billing now includes “Ms.” I do not jest) deigned to grace us all with her presence, with three back up singers in tow.  My ticket said Tuesday, December 28, 2010.  She was operating on Wednesday, December 29, 2010.

The crowd was a mix of irritated and elated.  She looked visibly upset and was greeted with an amalgamation of cheers and boos.  I would love to know what caused this.  Did her nanny quit?  Was she waiting on a stylist to help her choose a color scheme for her muu muu?  Did she need a fresh batch of drugs and her dealer was stuck on an unplowed Brooklyn street?  Is she sick and waiting for a doctor to give her a steroid shot?  Something happened, even if it were trivial to the rest of us; it was all over her face.  The crowd was reminded by Ms. Hill that they could leave and ask for a refund, and that these things take a lot of people to put together, to make it right, and that we got what we got.  There was an apology for being late in the opening rant, but it seemed false and thrown in; especially for someone as intelligent as Hill. 

The set itself ran nearly two hours.  There were Bob Marley covers.  There were (drumroll please….not kidding) four Fugees cuts from The Score; “How Many Mics?” “Zealots,” “Ready Or Not” and “Killing Me Softly.”  About 75% of the remaining crowd forgave her tardiness during The Fugees’ tracks; I don’t think anyone there expected to hear this, ever.

The songs from The Miseducation that grew up with me, seemed to grow up with Hill as well.  At the end of a re-imagined version of “Ex-Factor” she improv-ed “I stayed too long, I gave too much.”

“Lost Ones” was overpowered by her (enormous) band.  The soul was different; it was rushed and muddied and she sort of growled her singing parts.  She growl-spoke-sang a few times during “To Zion.”  Re-imagined arrangements of the songs were either a hit or a miss for sure.

Hill proffered no new material in her set.  She looked like a member of The Family Stone or Parliament/Funkadelic.  She stepped off stage twice during the show and the band improvised an instrumental break.  I have to say, I’ve seen the jammy-est, most long-winded, epic set playing jam bands NOT do that.  She played the set with a microphone in her right hand and a black washcloth-like piece of cloth in her left.  It was in her hand, the entire night.  She used it to wipe sweat from her face.  She did this often; it did not appear to me that she has a profuse glandular problem, nor was her makeup running.   I crazily found myself thinking, Oh my God, is she doing what Jimi Hendrix used to do?  Put LSD in his bandana around his head so that when he sweat, the drugs would penetrate his body?  Am I COMPLETELY INSANE for thinking this is a possibility?  I mean, she’s not using it to blow her nose; if that were the case, I’d think she had a cold.  Yep, I’m probably insane, but it’s just too odd not to bring up.

This bizarre evening in Brooklyn was the first date of a multiple city tour, and it was also recently announced she’d also be playing Coachella.  While my support will always want to lie with the artist I don’t totally understand the impetus of her going on the road.  Why now?  I’d like to think that after the success of her critically lauded performance this past summer at Rock The Bells, that she is going to explore being a performing artist again.  I wonder if the finished Fugees album will ever see the light of a release.  I wonder if she has new material to start playing as the tour progresses.  I wonder if the millions she likely made from The Miseducation Of Lauryn Hill have run dry and she, frankly, needs the cash.  I’ll likely never know, but should you be attending a show of Ms. Hill’s, be sure that you have a book to read or the company of a good friend. 

Geekscape Year in Review: Top 12 Songs of 2010!

by Noel Nocciolo

I had way too much fun with the “best” songs of 2010, which is why there are 12 songs on my list instead of the conventional 10.  Does anyone remember fun and laughter?!  Yes?  Great news!

Whether a hilarious video or a catchy chorus, 2010 gave us songs that made an impression.  Lighthearted fun, nostalgia, sexy-pants-dropping, intense longing, hair-whipping and tongues affixed in cheeks are all well-represented on this; my favorites of the year. 

By no means definitive, (there could have been an entire valid sub-category dedicated to the countless killer artist-collaborations of 2010, many involving B.o.B. and Eminem) in crafting I remembered that I really, truly am a geek at heart.  And I wouldn’t have it any other way!

 

12)  BRANDON FLOWERS, MAGDALENA

I’ve never been on The Killers’ bandwagon, but damn is this catchy.  The “oh oh oh oh” chorus, the religious symbolism, the chilled out bridge, the dramatic pause, the choral background.  Sold!

11)  LYKKE LI, GET SOME

Oh hey, Swedish sprite, you are bringing the sex:  “I’m your prostitute, you gon’ git some.”  Factor in overt drumming and shakers, talk of guns and Wild West imagery, and damn, even I want to get up in there.  The album is out next year, but the single prompted an appropriately weird remix from Beck and a digitized-aggressive remix from Mike D.  Not bad fans to have…

10)  LADY ANTEBELLUM, NEED YOU NOW

Equal parts steel guitar, male and female vocal twang, and overall longing make for a country ballad.  A country ballad that was a huge hit for a reason.  I like my booty calls with a shot of whiskey.

9)  APRIL SMITH AND THE GREAT PICTURE SHOW, TERRIBLE THINGS

You might have caught this gem on Showtime promos for both “Weeds” and “Californication.”  Nasty, swinging, cabaret-esque little ditty exploring the dark side.

8)  MUMFORD & SONS, LITTLE LION MAN

It’s rare that I hear a pronounced English accent while singing.  And wait, is that a banjo?  Is this a country-folk English band?  Yes.  Does this song rule hard?  Absolutely.

7)  STEEL TRAIN, TURNPIKE GHOST

This song is on fire.  Tegan & Sara’s chilled-out cover is on ice.


6)  BRUNO MARS, JUST THE WAY YOU ARE

If you didn’t get laid this year, it’s your own damned fault; Bruno Mars gave you the blueprint.  Minorly insecure girls + nerdy dudes + smooth vocal stylings & pianos = Bruno Mars’ fierce lil’ single.  Get in there, nerdy dudes; girls aren’t that complicated.  Tell her she’s beautiful.  Tell her every day.

 

5)  WILLOW, WHIP MY HAIR

She’s 10 and she’s whippin’ it rull good.  I adore this child, her braids, her vibe, her catchy production-heavy little-big song. 

4)  ARCADE FIRE, WE USED TO WAIT

The video is a “Choose-Your-Own-Adventure” of sorts that tugs at childhood heartstrings.  A promotionally (word up, Google Chrome!) and financially (large, large budgeted) over the top extravaganza, the song is good, the interactive experience is great.  www.thewildernessdowntown.com if you missed it.

3)   KATY PERRY, TEENAGE DREAM

Sorry if you’re rolling your eyes, but this is one of the best pop songs of the year, period.  It doesn’t leave your head.  And that is gold.  And if you listen to it eight times in a row at any given point like I do, it’s all of a sudden about your own nostalgia, not the idiot teenagers of the present going all the way.

 

2)  HOT CHIP, I FEEL BETTER

I was in stitches back in March when this dropped, and ever since with Kyng, Mar’Vaine, Octavian and Popeye who make up “Hot Chip: The Faux Boy Band” in the official video for “I Feel Better.”  The track is profoundly amazing with a Euro-dance-synthy situation the band will even admit is a bit cheese.  Nothing beats seeing the five proper Brits that make up the band destroyed by lasers by the end.  Hands down, favorite video of the year.

 

1)  CEE-LO GREEN, FUCK YOU

Do I really need to say anything?  Nope!  Incredible.

Geekscape Music Review: Chromeo’s “Business Casual”

by Noel Nocciolo

Montreal duo Chromeo’s new album, “Business Casual” could be more aptly named “Women Are F***ing Crazy.”  I would add “…But Men Can Be Pretty Stupid, As Well” to that title.

I would LOVE to meet the ex-girlfriends and other inspirations, fictitious, real or otherwise/figments-of-their-imagination-that-were-then-crafted-in-a-song of Dave Macklovitch and Patrick Gemayel.  They seem like some crazy bringers-down of the sisterhood of women.  However, crazy and stupid aside, it makes for the most fun I’ve had listening to a new album in a really long time.

For some people, music technology is porn.  If that is the case for you, “Business Casual” is your new “Deep Throat.”

Moog?  Check.  Auto-tune?  Yes.  Reverb?  Uh huh.  A random vocal sample from Beyonce’s lil’ sis, Solange?  Yes.  Wait, is that a talk box?  Or is it a vocoder?  What is that?  Are they the same thing?  Wait, what?  Check.  Check and check.

After the first listen of the album, I then put Hall & Oates’ “Maneater” on repeat.  It seemed the most appropriate response.  Chromeo obviously loves Daryl and John.  Like, a lot.  And this is a very good thing.

Why?  WHY NOT?!  Hall and Oates wrote some REALLY FUN pop songs!  You can’t tell me you did not secretly (or openly) love the “You Make My Dreams” dance sequence in “500 Days Of Summer.”  It was pure joy.  Hall and Oates popped up in “Anchorman.”  It was a glorious day.  Give out synth, catchy content, moustaches and the Reagan-era 1980s and you can’t help but have a good time.

This album is a good time. 

From the Robert Palmer-esque back-up ladies, (clad in black, obviously, in hot-as-hell stockings), to the bitchin’ guitars, to the synth-with-prosthetics-stands that remind me of the leg lamp in “A Christmas Story.”  It is a dance party.  It is thoughtfully crafted music for dancing in public.   It makes you (well, me) want to shake your booty.  You could fold laundry to this album, and all of a sudden the mundane is fun.

Thoughtfully crafted music such as this includes a lot of mentions of crazy women (maybe just crazy people, but I think women) Here are a sampling of lyrics:

“Your love is real, but I just feel suffocated”
“Why d’you always frown and not go jaded?”
“She says I’m not romantic, I say she’s too dramatic”
 
Must I continue?  Buy the album.  Or if you have commitment issues, download “Night By Night,” “Hot Mess” and “Don’t Turn The Lights On.”

If you need any further motivation, check out their performance on Letterman:

 

Who Is Harry Nilsson? (And Why Is Everybody Talkin’ About Him?)

by Noel Nocciolo

Harry Nilsson is, without a doubt, one of my favorite artists, of any era, of any genre, of all time.  About four years ago, I read about a documentary in the works about his life, “Who Is Harry Nilsson? (And Why Is Everybody Talkin’ About Him)” but never heard anything more about it. Finally, Lorber Films is releasing this wonderful documentary in New York City on September 10th, followed by a run in Los Angeles, and then to the DVD market.

First, for those of you who aren’t familiar with Harry Nilsson, here’s a bit of trivia on his musical work (and why you’re probably already a fan). Nilsson was inspired to write “One,” (which went on to become a hit for Three Dog Night) as a piano ballad whose chords were inspired by the droning dial tone of the telephone on hold.  He wrote the silly ditty “Coconut” (as in, “you put the lime in de coconut and drink ‘em both up”) which you might have wiggled to as a child.  His biggest hit, which won him a Grammy was “Without You” which was penned by Badfinger’s Pete Ham and Tom Evans, and later covered by Mariah Carey.  If you’ve seen Goodfellas, then you know “Jump Into The Fire,” resplendent in bad-ass drumming by Jim Gordon of Derek And The Dominos.  Along with Bob Dylan, who wrote “Lay Lady Lay” for the film (which was not used…), he wrote “I Guess The Lord Must Be In New York City” as the theme for Midnight Cowboy.  It wasn’t to be included in the film, but instead his recording of “Everybody’s Talkin’” (another Grammy winner for Nilsson, but not written by him) became the theme, and won an Oscar.

Who is Harry Nilsson is another piece of evidence that I am a traitor to this generation.  I wish I were born in the 1940s.  The people involved in this film encompass my version of an “American Idol” or “Musical Icon.”  It was a treat to watch, to take a journey with someone whose music you definitely know, but unless you are a big time Nilsson Nerd like I, probably don’t know it was written by (or at times, not written by, but performed by) Harry Nilsson. Those interviewed for the documentary include Yoko Ono, Van Dyke Parks, Randy Newman, Brian Wilson, legendary producer Richard Perry, Micky Dolenz, Robin Williams, Terry Gilliam and Eric Idle.  Friends, attorneys, family and his ex-wife were also interviewed.  There are a wealth of photographs, home movies, archival footage and an oral autobiography he recorded with his wife, which serves as an occasional voice-over.

The film opens with Dustin Hoffman at a Comic Relief television special in 1994, mentioning his film, Midnight Cowboy, and with a humbled solemnity, announces that the singer of the iconic song associated with the film, Harry Nilsson, had died that day.  It was a sucker-punch beginning that didn’t let up with the way Harry’s very famous friends and colleagues and family spoke of him throughout the nearly two-hour film. Another idol of mine, Randy Newman, said of Nilsson, “…he had an open mind, generous with praise, enthusiastic with stuff he liked…”  Nilsson recorded an album of early Newman tracks, aptly named “Nilsson Sings Newman.”  Newman called the  album “a milestone in my life.”

The film delves a bit into Nilsson’s early years, his living in poverty in Bushwick, Brooklyn, single mother, absent father, formal schooling only through the ninth grade, his subsequent move to California to start over as a teenager.  He found work at a movie theater and then a bank, before he had his break in songwriting, with The Monkees’ recording his tune, “Cuddly Toy.”  His mother was an alcoholic, among other members of his family, and warned him that it was a family problem, and to take care with the drink.  Friends and colleagues interviewed told of his turning up on their doorsteps, sometimes at four a.m., for an adventure, and that adventures could last days with unexpected twists and turns and drinks and substances.

Nilsson was described as “a big bunny with really sharp teeth.”  Ex-wife Diane Nilsson spoke of her former husband with a straightforward, honest fondness; stating that he was terrified to perform and had the lowest self-esteem of anyone she had ever known.

Relationships, both personal and professional, shifted abruptly at times.  Richard Perry, who produced “Nilsson Schmilsson,” recalled a tense afternoon meeting in which the two were having tea and began an argument over the direction of the album.  Perry had agreed to produce the work on only one condition:  that he be given control over what happens and the permission to steer the way the album was executed.  When Perry reminded Nilsson of this provision, the response was a flippant, “Well, I lied.”  They then raced in a taxi, late for a session, in which Nilsson was to record vocals on “Without You.”  The result was a one-take slam-dunk, and the soaring, heartbreaking vocals that won a Grammy.

This documentary was, at times, incredibly difficult to watch.  In one moment, bearing witness to one of the purest voices in pop music, gorgeous interpretation, clever songwriting, performances, stories and songs that touched lives.  In another, it juxtaposes with the troubled mind of an addict, replete with destructive behavior, near abandonment of his son and repressed anger, blood on the microphone from singing on swollen, damaged vocal folds.  There’s also plenty of desire for success, for new albums, for creative steps forward, the desire to have a pissing contest/friendship with John Lennon and binges both alcohol and drug related.

Nilsson and John Lennon were infamously kicked out of the Troubador in Los Angeles during The Smothers Brothers reunion show for being a bunch of heckling, drunken buffoons.  The two had forged a friendship during Lennon’s break from New York City, (and from Yoko Ono) and Lennon produced Nilsson’s album, “Pussy Cats” during that time.  The album’s title was a nod to how Angelenos’ would not have described the two of them as a collective.

It was endearing to learn of Nilsson and his wife Una’s romance, children and life together.  The reminiscent stories of that time in the interviews with his friends and children, provided an emotional end to the film.

Coincidentally, the day of Nilsson’s funeral happened to also be the day of the famous 1994 Northridge earthquake, and his service was made more colorful by literal aftershocks.  One of the last sentiments expressed in the film came from the late George Harrison.  At the gravesite, Harrison suggested his friends and family sing one of his songs, “You’re Breaking My Heart.”  The song, whose lyrics include, “You’re breaking my heart, you’re tearing it apart, so fuck you” was then sang at Nilsson’s grave. It was an unconventional ending, but one that so fit the person.

Soulfége: Do Harvard and Oprah Know Solid Hip-Hop?

by Noel Nocciolo

What do you get when you take hip-hop and a Ghana-born, Oprah-endorsed Harvard graduate?  You end up with thoughtful, bright hip-hop; certainly not the stuff of “bitches and hoes.”

Soulfège is lead by Derrick Ashong, a.k.a. DNA, who hosts “The Derrick Ashong Experience” on Oprah radio, found on Sirius 195/XM 156.  His music is wholesome and fun; a breathe of fresh air in an industry saturated with the quest for the next big thing.  This is not poised to be buzzed about one day and forgotten the next.  Soulfège is simply an alternative to the “all-style-and-no-substance” found in some modern hip-hop.  I’d recommend this to those who enjoy the genre but feel guilt at misogyny.

With hip-hop at the core, the band also takes on the flavors of funk, reggae and a kind of world beat that you know isn’t being made by a bunch of suburban white kids.  It is party music, but the kind of party music that, when listening to the lyrics in between your party-time, you start feeling guilty that you aren’t doing more to advance mankind.

The stand-outs on their most recent release, “Take Back The Mic” include “Damoshi (Stand Up),” the album opener.  It is the perfect thesis introduction to the core of Soulfège, sung in multiple languages, pumping beats, multiple instruments, multiple vocalists.  “Do Right” sounds like it may be more at home on Soul Train, upbeat, fun, horn section; a win!  “To Be Free” is a “let’s-make-mojitos-and-sit-on-a-Caribbean-beach-during-the-summer” jam. 

Their live show was one of the more uplifting experiences I’ve had recently at a music venue.  You can’t help but smile and groove at what they throw down.  It’s just….wholesome.  Sometimes you can’t beat wholesome.  Keep your ears open for Soulfège and click here to visit their official site!

Recommended downloads:  “Damoshi (Stand Up),” “Do Right,” “Beans N Rice.”

Noel Nocciolo Brings You Steel Train & Terrible Thrills Vol. 1

by Noel Nocciolo

New Jersey-based rock band, Steel Train, released their self-titled and third full-length album today. It is the first release for Terrible Thrills, the band’s own label.  As gutsy as it is to release an album as unique as today’s self-titled album, especially one as the focal point of their own business venture, it is gutsy times ten to simultaneously release the very same album, but with al twelve original songs covered by female artists, as the band has done with Terrible Thrills Vol. 1. Steel Train went balls out on this album, as epitomized by both of these releases.

Terrible Thrills Vol. 1, (Terrible Thrills, named after Rocky Horror) the all-female accompanying album, is all over the place, stylistically.  I don’t know if I absolutely LOVE all of the choices made in the covers, BUT I definitely respect their existence.  The women who left their mark on Steel Train’s work are quite a list of eyebrow raisers and bad-asses in their own right.  Here’s a look at a few:

Angel Deradoorian of indie-outfit The Dirty Projectors took on You Are Dangerous, and made it a spine-tingling, almost Prince-like R&B-on-an-organ tune. 

Actress Alia Shawkat (yep, Maeby Funke!) turns S.O.G. Burning In Hell, whose Steel Train studio-version is akin to a Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band rocker from the Born To Run era, into an old timey-piano ditty. 

Tegan & Sara recorded the album’s first single, Turnpike Ghost, and RAC remixed it into lounge-y electronica.

Scarlett Johansson sounds like she sang underwater into all kinds of sound board shenanigans on Bullet.  I kept waiting for an accompanying video of a new end-credits sequence for Lost In Translation. 

Nellie McKay scared the shit out of me with her rendition of Touch Me Bad, which I guess based solely on the title of the song, makes sense?

The Go Go’s Charlotte Caffey and her daughter, singer Astrid McDonald, put a carefree spin with a deftly remixed Bloody Lips.

As for the Steel Train self-title album itself, it reads with touches of Bruce Springsteen, circa 1972-1975. Before everyone flips out with such a bold comparison, hear me out.

Without Springsteens’ Greetings From Asbury Park, his sound could not have developed into The Wild, The Innocent or The E Street Shuffle, and without both of those albums, we wouldn’t have the wall of sound of 1975’s Born To Run.  You can liken the progression of any good, trailblazing, classic band in the same fashion for their first three records; discovering who they are, who needs to be in the band and who doesn’t, what instruments they want to use in production for the album, and what kinds of stories they want to tell.  The same can be said for Steel Train’s first two records; it’s like all they experimented with on previous releases has finally readied them for this album.

Springsteen’s songs read almost like stories from a diary; his or someone else’s.  Steel Train’s songs are like an impressionist painting; flashes of this and that, that you don’t necessarily need to see up close to understand and enjoy.  Even if they hail from the same, proud state of New Jersey, the artists are not the same.  The members of Steel Train grew up playing in punk bands in rec rooms, foreign legion halls and firehouses.  The frenetic energy of the past is present here on Steel Train….but so are fist pumping hints of The E Street Band.  See? Arcade Fire were not the only current band out today influenced by New Jersey’s prodigal son.

If you want to hear bold, rock and roll with pop-do-wop flashes and assorted emotions, buy this record.  And if you need to be reminded that in life, nothing thought-provoking was achieved by a lack of risk-taking, buy the female counterpart. Both are available today and highly recommended!

April Smith and the Great Picture Show

by Noel Nocciolo

Every once in awhile, this generation will put out a female singer who can sing… and sing WELL (i.e. not like a whiny infant, singing through their nose or in key without the modern use of pitch correction).  Every once in awhile, this generation will put out a female songwriter who doesn’t sound like she is gazing at her navel, and singing about whatever insipid thought that comes into her mind, while relatively smart women worldwide collectively roll their eyes.  Call me a traitor to my gender, but it is rare for me to find someone in the latter twentieth century into the twenty-first who actually has something to say with her songs, and has a voice that does not make me want to put my index finger in my retina.  Meet April Smith and the Great Picture Show.  She is a singer and a songwriter.  And she is also a woman who sings really well, writes really well and made a really great album.

If your iTunes library is as schizophrenic as mine, you’ll love April Smith. She’s a little bit cabaret, show tunes, pop, and rock and roll.  If you can appreciate any one of the four above categories, pick up “Songs For A Sinking Ship.”

Ironically, “Drop Dead Gorgeous,” one of the albums’ standout tracks, illustrates in song-form, my issue with the navel gazing singer-songwriter: “I’m a sucker for a pretty face and you’re as pretty as they come/so what if the conversation leaves me absolutely numb?/oh you’re so enchanting when your mouth is closed/and with a mouth like that who needs politics and prose?/now i’m staring into those vacant eyes trying to figure out if you’ve understood a single word that i’ve said/ is there anything going on in that pretty little head? ‘cause if you’re just drop dead gorgeous, you should just drop dead.”

Holla, April Smith. You tell the world.

The album is a delightful mix of sunny pop songs like “Movie Loves A Screen,” (“baby what I mean is that I love you more than any other I’ve seen/if you couldn’t tell well I hope you’re quite keen on it/like a rhyme loves a sonnet/likes a movie loves a screen/that’s what I wanna mean to you…”) 

“Colors” is a sweet bounce of a tune, heavy on alliteration: “…like a lighthouse guides a shipwrecked sailor safely from the sea…” It is possible it was resurrected from the 1940s dance halls.

Sunny one minute, dark the next, Smith doesn’t shy away from being forceful with her lyrics and pushing voice, and warns other women against hitting on her man: “I’m a lover not a fighter and I don’t want to have to get rough/I’m just warning you ahead of time/I can be a bitch when it comes to my stuff/so keep your damn hands off my dixie boy.”  Fear naught; the song isn’t a nod to Alanis Morissette; the arrangement is far more creepy and more layered.

Apparently, Smith has done some scary, bad things in the past, as illustrated to creepy vaudeville effect on “Terrible Things.”  You might have caught it, appropriately, featured on the season three promo for “Californication” and echoed by the actions of Hank Moody. 

April Smith and the Great Picture Show set about to record an album with artistic integrity and without a record label.  With the help of strangers, and through the guidance of kickstarter.com, fans who like the band had the opportunity to put forth a little cash to be sure the album was made, and especially, was made per the artists’ vision and wishes. The goal was $10,000 and instead, they ended up with $13,100.  Like our website-that-could that is hosting this very article, it was a do-it-yourself, answer to yourself, make something fantastic the fans are helping provide, and everyone wins sort of undertaking.  In an industry that is being forced to change with the times, do not be surprised if you find more and more artists that you love doing this….and be sure to give them a few bucks to perpetuate this love.

Few can say that they’ve played both Lollapalooza and Garrison Keillor’s A Prairie Home Companion, but April Smith and the Picture Show are among that few. Few artists who do not have the financial push of a record company can say that they have consistently charted on iTunes.  Smith can say that. So…what are you waiting for? Get eclectic while I get direct:  Buy. This. Album. Now!

SXSW Music! Geekscape Was There!

by Noel Nocciolo

The first rule about the music portion of South By Southwest (or all of it, really) is that you must realize that it will be impossible to see and do all that you wish.  There will always be a band you’ll miss due to distraction elsewhere, due to a really, really annoyingly long line to get into a venue even if you have a badge, or due to taking a disco nap so you can rage on through the late night.  There will always be the coulda, woulda, shoulda.  I say, let it go.  These acts generally tour, a lot, and there’s always next year, right?  Or later this year at another festival?  Right?

You got it, dude.

My couldas included neglecting to catch Casxio, and their song, “I Just Wanna Have Sex With You” (insert teenage giggles).  Very sadly, I missed A-Trak, both with Travis Barker and solo, I also missed Spoon, (but honestly, I just couldn’t make it, with Jonathan London was doing stand-up across town!) and I missed seeing Bone Thugs N Harmony with their assortment of Hennessy, beer and Grey Goose bottles onstage.

I hope you all enjoyed our daily video recaps!  I saw more than I can list, from musicians playing on street corners, in clothing stores, in coffee houses, in tents, in hotel lobbies.  Let’s hear the highlights!

TALLY HALL!

I had the chance to chat with Andrew Horowitz and Ross Federman from Tally Hall and catch their showcase.  (Look for this on the site soon!)  They are the hardest working, suit-and-colored-tie-wearing, quirky, harmonizing, indie-rock band in the business.  You might have caught their cover of The Killers’ “Smile Like You Mean It” on the soundtrack to “The O.C.,” or recently on tour with Rooney, or were a fan of the ten-episode, music meets improv, meets sketch comedy, meets nerd-fun series, The Tally Hall Internet Show (found on their website).  If not, get acquainted with Tally Hall.  Their new record is in the can, and will be released sometime this year.  Until then, pick up “Marvin’s Marvelous Mechanical Machine” and prepare to fall in love.

DR. DOG!

Big fan of this throw-back to the golden age of classic rock.  They have a new album, (titled, Shame, Shame) and a new label putting it out (Anti-) on April 6th.  They packed the day stage of the Convention Center with old tunes and new. One thing, though:  Dr. Dog.  Please stop wearing your sunglasses indoors.  You have not a thing to hide behind with music this good.  OK?  Thanks.

COURT YARD HOUNDS!

Made up of two-thirds of the Dixie Chicks, sisters Martie Maguire and Emily Robison, (the fiddle/banjo/mandolin/etc/etc players, not the Chick who commented about W Bush and was condemned by the Religious Right) are also known as the Court Yard Hounds.  Solid musicianship and iffy name choices are the name of the game.  The sisters wrote songs that are at times bluegrassy (embellished by a top-notch backing band) and at times adult-contemporary-country.  I was among the youngest in the crowd, and of the younger women, one of the few not wearing a cowboy hat.  Their debut record is due May 4th, and they’ll be doing select dates on the Lilith Fair.

MIIKE SNOW!

This was good times, noodle salad, right here.  Came highly recommended by someone I respect.  The group (minus the American lead singer) are from Sweden, whose exports, be it clothing, furniture, music or Volvo automobiles…I’m always a big fan.  Think I also became a fan of Miike Snow’s dance-rock.  Check ‘em out.

SHARON JONES AND THE DAP-KINGS!

She’s a solid singer and a bold-colored-dress-wearer, and her band probably breathes a sigh of relief when getting to tour with her over their other front woman.  (The Dap-Kings, among other assorted projects associated with their Dap Tone Records, is Amy Winehouse’s backing band and responsible for the classic sound of the oft-heralded “Back To Black.”)  They definitely never fail to put on a solidly fun, funky, horns-driven show…but, is that Travis McCoy from Gym Class Heroes onstage, dancing during their show?  Brent Moore interviewed him on the red carpet for “The Runaways,” as well.  Must be super-fun to pop up in the most random of places because you can?

HOLE!

Welp, it happened.  After an introduction by Margaret Cho, who proclaimed that the band changed her life in the 90s, that she stopped wearing underwear and stopped eating cheese as a result, Courtney Love And Her New Band Members Because She Is The Only Original Hole-ster Left, took the stage.  Ms. Love, bedazzled in a feathered headdress and fierce runway-ready outfit, made me wonder who was injecting her with Botox, and could this person please stop?  To reference my favorite saying regarding keeping horses, “she looked like she was ridden hard and put away wet.”  Despite appearances, and the way it sounded, the group opened with the most fitting thing of all:  a cover of The Rolling Stones’ “Sympathy For The Devil.”  No comment.

STEEL TRAIN!

Jonathan sat down with Jack and Evan for what was a very candid interview; that you will soon see, here on your favorite site!  I caught a few of Steel Train’s marathon of SXSW performances, and was moved each time.  Their new album drops June 15th, and based on what has been played live both at SXSW and on the road in the past few months, it is a creative, innovative step for the band. 

The band performed acoustic for Spin, and you can catch two of their new songs here!

As you can see, we had a great time in Austin.  Until next fest…

All Points West – The East Coast’s Coachella

by Noel Nocciolo

All Points West is in its second year as the ‘East Coast Coachella.’  Except that it isn’t.  It does, however, share a promoter, installation art that peppers Indio’s polo grounds at Coachella, and boasts some of the same musical acts.  100 degrees and dry in April is not, sadly, the same as 80 degrees and humid with UNBELIEVABLE THUNDERSTORMS.

Let’s focus on the good things, shall we?
(not that I nearly lost my mind trying to get Zac’s photos to correctly upload and accompany this piece…)

The good things happened on Friday, which was All Points West year two, day one.   The good times began with Heartless Bastards, who are neither of those things, as I learned later as I ‘interviewed’ them (and by interview, I mean, chatted about a few things casually).  My partner in crime, and photographer for this piece, Zac Walker, lost his festival virginity, and I was his corrupter.  And it was great.

Heartless Bastards kicked the day off with cuts off of their recent release, “The Mountain.”  They rocked and they rolled.  The crowd started to pour in throughout their set, which set up a lovely rest of the day.

From there, Zac and I wandered.  We watched final touches being put on (rad) installation artwork by harried artists (or their interns?).  We checked out Swedish fashion house H&M’s sponsor-cube, resplendently crisp with hot girls milling about wearing white, and dispensing water out of beer taps.  Something to file under:  Things I Never Thought I’d See At A Festival Or Anywhere, Tap Water Out Of A Beer Tap.  Thanks, Hit Or Miss!  I wish you were selling sundresses.

The Renegade Craft Fair of Brooklyn, however, had a generous supply of clothing merchants, selling dresses, lacy underthings, hipster-baby-organic-cotton-onesies, art print dresses and jewelry.  It was a welcomed alternative to the typical festival tie-dyed clothing booths I’ve seen elsewhere.

We headed over to the main stage for Fleet Foxes.  I quite possibly lived under a rock for most of last year…that, or my friends severely dropped the ball and didn’t tell me about the band and their beautiful album, and how it’s a must.  I found out as soon as they started.  As they began, the rain began, in perfect synchronicity; light and lovely.  To distill the aesthetic down to a sentence, Fleet Foxes are bunch of bearded dudes who harmonize.  It’s something to experience; it is both mellow and alarming.  If you’re a nerd for pretty vocals, this is your new jam.

By the end of their set, the rain had turned into a downpour.  Zac and I needed port-a-potties, the most expensive slices of pizza on earth, beer contained in a ‘garden,’ (c’mon New Jersey, why the lame rules?) and ponchos.  After the sky opened and we were poured upon, we embraced the mud puddles and risk of death by lightning and danced like crazy people to Vampire Weekend.

Vampire Weekend’s set was a bit touch and go at times with the sheer volume of water and wind blowing the water onto the stage.  They plugged along, plugged in, voltage flowing, and made it through a full set.  We heard their debut album in its entirety and one or two new songs.  The mud puddles were deep and the dancing went on.  There were a few moments when frontman Ezra Koenig looked terrified (rightfully so) by the weather.  He confirmed his terror during the introduction to the last song.  I couldn’t write down what he said without destroying my notebook, but it was something about possible electrocution, and a tenacious crowd who had stuck around to see them.

By the time the set finished, the sky closed.  The Yeah Yeah Yeahs sound was full and fun.  Zac described, very rightly I might add, that Karen O looks like she sleeps in a coffin all day long, and when it is time for her to perform, someone knocks on her coffin door to awake her, she throws on red lipstick, and away she goes.  Gigantic white plastic balls with huge glittery eyeballs affixed to them floated from backstage out into the crowd, matching the eyeball backdrop, which was their set piece.  While I’m not necessarily a fan of the band, they did play a compelling set of new songs and old fan favorites.  Karen O definitely knows how to work a crowd be it by manipulating emotions through a crazy black and white cape or how she delivers a lyric.  She gives it her all.

If someone would have told me years ago when I attended my first of many large-scale music festivals, that Jay-Z would go down in my history as one of the best festival headliners I’d ever seen…I don’t know that I would have believed them.  After reading about Jay-Z’s triumphant performance at 2008’s Glastonbury Festival in the UK, in which he opened his set with a cover of Oasis’ “Wonderwall,” complete with his playing guitar, (True to form, Noel Gallagher had smugly remarked that ‘Glastonbury has the tradition of guitar music…I’m not having hip-hop at Glastonbury, it’s wrong…’) and afterwards stated that he’s “got 99 problems but a bitch ain’t one.”  !!!  I mean, anything after that can seem like gravy?  I was always on the Blur side of the Manchester rivalry, anyways.

While I’m not NOT a fan of Hova, (I think The Black Album is brilliant, and am familiar with his charting singles) I could not imagine a SHOW being as good as it was.  The man performs with fellow rapper, Memphis Bleek , dudes on turntables and a full band, including a horns section.  He brings in the noise and brings in the funk.

All Points West marked Jay-Z’s U.S. festival debut.  He began his evening with neon clock, counting down from ten minutes to 00 seconds, when he took the stage.  Hype-y?  Yes.  But also effective in getting the crowd psyched.   He began with a fitting cover of Beastie Boys’ “No Sleep ‘Till Brooklyn” complete with pictures of the Bedford-Stuyvesant housing project and neighborhood where he grew up, and sprinkled-in samples of Beasties tracks.  It was a lovely tribute to MCA, a.k.a. Adam Yauch of the Beastie Boys, who instead of headlining All Points West, was undergoing surgery and treatment for cancer of the salivary gland, which caused them to cancel  their summer tour plans.  The crowd reaction to Jay-Z’s cover-choice was to dance, fist pump, and sing along.  It was a bitchin’ start to a bitchin’ set, one that hit every track you’d imagine he’d play, and lesser-known songs that only the uber-fan would know.  There was a section about Obama, playing “My President Is Black” freestyle talk of the First Family, and pictures of the inauguration and newspapers’ front pages as a backdrop.  Things got a bit serious when the band sampled the Jackson 5’s “I Want You Back,” and Jay told the crowd that “..if you take anything from this evening, take that we are not here to mourn death but to celebrate life,”  and proceeded to call Michael Jackson ‘the greatest entertainer ever to live.”

The terminally hip kids who were all over the indie bands of earlier, unabashedly put their hands in diamonds (I guess that’s what you do for Shawn Carter?  OK, cool, good to know) and were totally into it.  I think that is why festivals are so special; a promoter can present a mixed-bag of talent spanning genre and, at times, generations.  To speak generally, the people who attend may take something from all of it, and are open to more than just one or two bands they specifically went to see. 

Oh, and Jay-Z rocks.  Period.

Bonnaroo Wrap Up!!!

by Noel Nocciolo

After a bit of careful reflection, re-examination, sleep catching-up-ness, never-ending unpacking/re-organization, and back-in-the-real-world-adjustment, I present Bonnaroo Day Three, and Wrap Up!

If you’re not up to speed on the whos and the whats and the what-have-yous, ‘Roo coverage day 1/2, day one and day two can be found here: http://www.geekscape.net/features/eb90e89c8cadf72ed921338a4b855f9d/

For those who didn’t make it this year, you’ll find a playlist after the jump.  Follow along, kids.  Let’s rock and roll.

DAY THREE

After a slow start, we arrived in Manchester, in time to see Madi Diaz perform in the Troo Music Lounge, hosted by Budweiser.  Years ago, when I saw the documentary, “Rock School” about kids attending the Paul Green School of Rock in Philadelphia, I was quite taken with a young lady who had instrumental and vocal ability far beyond her age.  When my memory was refreshed as to her name, that she was no longer a child, and playing the festival, I anticipated something special from her, and was not disappointed.  Madi played with a backing band, which only enhanced her overall talent.  It is part rock, part country, part singer-songwriter-y, but seeing that she’s only beginning her twenties and developing her sound, it will be interesting to see what will be the next step forward.  Oh, and p.s……she covers Whitesnake.  Holla.

I met up with friends, Rebecca and Brian to check out Snoop Doggy Dogg on the main stage; words I never thought I’d say.  Have to admit….he was GREAT.  He is one of those performers where you don’t exactly realize that you know many of his songs, until you start hearing him back to back.  I’m not exactly an avid radio-listener, but even I recognized a vast majority.  The cloud of smoke billowing above the crowd was akin to a Dave Matthews show times about twenty.  I had an iced tea, and danced.  You know you’re a geek/most sober person at Bonnaroo when you’re sippin’ on iced tea at Snoop.  Bonnaroo might be the only place on earth where total strangers ask me if I have a bowl, or papers, or want to smoke with them.  I, as well as my close friends, find this hysterical, because I am the least likely person to do any of the above, ever.

Speaking of drugs, I dropped Ms D and her ailing back at the medic tent.  She was able to snag a prescription for more muscle relaxers, which we filled at 2:30 am at Walgreens in Murfreesboro.  Some might say that you know you aren’t a kid anymore when psyched to get drugs the legal way….and at a music festival, to boot.

I caught the last few from Band of Horses; band whose name I constantly am hearing, but whose albums I have never actually listened.  Where have I been?!  I will be dog-earing this chapter of the weekend, and come back to it when I have the time/brain cells to hear their records.  Beautiful.

Ms D and I met up in our hammock-spot for Phish.  It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.  Phish played beautifully, I recognized nothing, song-wise, (I wouldn’t, to be fair) but Ms D did, and while doubled over on a huge bean-bag in excruciating back pain, the last muscle-relaxer in her stash long since taken, new prescription not yet filled, she oohed and ahhed.  Trey introduced a childhood idol, Bruce Springsteen, to the stage.  Phish and Bruce played “Mustang Sally” and Bruce’s  “Bobby Jean” and “Glory Days.”  And it was good.  It was the kind of good to where we were thankful that we had the foresight not to leave early, or in Ms D’s case, to completely succumb to the pain and peace out to a hospital for a drip of morphine.  Even if it took us nearly two hours to get Ms D out of the bean bag and out to guest parking.  Phish and Bruce onstage?  Worth it.  Thank you, all who engineered that meeting of the guitars.

BONNAROO THOUGHTS AND MUSINGS

While at music festivals, you have the opportunity to see fun, potentially inappropriate and downright awesome t-shirts worn by fellow festies.  This was my favorite, purchased by his friend in Chicago, of course:

Bonnaroo showed random displays of artwork.  Concepts here aren’t quite as fully-formed as they were at Coachella, but who isn’t into lit-cocoon-things hanging from trees?

I generally didn’t notice people’s blatant drug use until nighttime, as I was trying to maneuver my way around sitting clusters of those crouched around glowing pipes.

Bobbleheads, Ben & Jerry’s and fireflies:

Whole Foods sold frozen fruit bars for $1 each.  If only Whole Foods back in the real world had this kind of recession-proof pricing.

Fountains are functional by day, fashionable by night:

Jack White, while absent at Bonnaroo this year, but present on my flight to New York City from Nashville, really has the pasty pale complexion one might think.  His new (yes, newer than the Raconteurs) band, The Dead Weather’s album, ‘Horehound’ is dropping July 14.

Graffitti encouraged.  No I have not seen a chicken.

Bonnaroo and iTunes have yielded two killer live albums, Warren Haynes: Live At Bonnaroo and Steel Train: Live From Bonnaroo 2008.  Both are must-buys to glean the energy found at the festival, and utilization of seemingly random covers.  Warren:  U2, The Eagles, Radiohead, Otis Redding.  Steel Train:  Smashing Pumpkins, Fleetwood Mac.  Check them out.

Mud can smell like sewage when there aren’t port-a-potties as far as the eye can see.  I find this disconcerting.

Our aerial view from the hammocks:

I don’t know that there is another time of year, where I can sleep for three hours and awake oddly refreshed and ready to rock.

And to close……for more good times…….here is a playlist for all of you who didn’t have the chance to journey to Tennessee.

Noel’s Bonnaroo 2009 Playlist:

1)    The Mountain, Heartless Bastards
2)    Scarlet Begonias (live), Jimmy Buffett and the Coral Reefer Band
3)    Growin’ Up, Bruce Springsteen
4)    Ah Mary, Grace Potter and the Nocturnals
5)    Little Plastic Castle, Ani DiFranco
6)    Canvas, Madi Diaz
7)    Wading In The Velvet Sea, Phish
8)    The Funeral, Band of Horses
9)    You Are What You Love, Jenny Lewis
10)   Once In A Lifetime, Talking Heads
11)   Golden Age, TV On The Radio
12)   The Next Episode, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dogg
13)   Unstoppable, Santigold
14)   Hurt, Nine Inch Nails
15)   Gotta Cheer Up, Cotton Jones
16)   Hate It Here, Wilco

Everyone Has An Emotional Connection to Michael Jackson

by Noel Nocciolo

 

June 25, 2009 was a sad day.  My nostalgia of a childhood, long since changed into adulthood for all its mess and confusion, was filled with the brilliant and misunderstood Michael Jackson.  My Mother played the “Thriller” cassette tape in the car while driving the Los Angeles freeway, me rocking to and fro in my car seat, and singing along.  I wore out that cassette tape with incessant listens.  The love of music started early with me, and the one that it started with, was Michael Jackson.

In our living room, in the condo in Thousand Oaks, I learned how to walk and learned how to dance, seemingly simultaneously.  I listened to “We Are The World:  USA To Africa” and “Off The Wall,” played on vinyl, through an amp powerful enough to power a metal band, and two six foot tall speakers.  I danced with the clumsiness one could imagine of a toddler, desperate to moonwalk.  Scotty, my friend since the early days of Gymboree, would come over and we would dance and laugh like the children we were.  The first full sentence of the English language that I put together on my own, was the exuberant, “I SAW MICHAEL JACKSON ON TELEVISION!!!”

One of my Mom’s biggest regrets to this day was not getting tickets for us during the “Thriller” tour.   In all fairness, I probably would have remembered very little, but my subconscious would have been undoubtedly shaped.  The last show he played in my adult hometown of New York City, was on September 10, 2001 at Madison Square Garden.  I didn’t go.  There is no doubt that it was the most cathartic dance-party imaginable; a night before the world we know changed irrevocably.

The passing of an icon in the age of now is something of uncharted territory.  The “now” we know is one of twitter feeds, facebook accounts, and the ability to refresh CNN.com on the browser of our PDAs.  Tabloids announced the passing before legitimate news agencies and UCLA Medical Center issued their release.  We received text messages of shock and awe from our friends.  This was not the case in December 1980, when John Lennon was assassinated.   Mourners flocked to Central Park and held vigil outside the Dakota where he lived and died….and stayed out all night.  Together.  Present in what that meant to them; not tweeting or putting some sort of Jackson mention as their facebook status.  Losing an icon was a collectively shared experience, conveyed by word of mouth, newspaper, Walter Cronkite and being present at such a gathering. 

While I do not mean to compare the death of a pop icon to the death of an American President, but if one is of a certain age, you can bet one remembers where they were when they found out President Kennedy was killed.  Are we going to remember what our friend from elementary school whom we barely remember, but whose friendship we didn’t have the heart to deny on an internet networking site, said about Michael Jackson on the day he died?  Call me crazy, but the experience is different now that we carry around ten thousand songs in our pockets and can send email from a bathroom stall, provided we have cell reception.  Oh, and Jeff Goldblum is alive and well, and living in Los Angeles.

The media, whether we felt it warranted or not, surrounding Michael Jackson’s life since the early days of Motown, was a circus.  I am sure the circus will continue, at least for awhile, posthumously.  He was one whose talent shaped pop music.  That is not up for debate.  He is one who was, debated-ly, misunderstood.  Judge and think what you will about the person he was, or evolved to be, whose scandals, whose mistakes, whose triumphs made headlines.

Going out on the night after his death was an emotional experience.  DJ’s tributes were simultaneously held throughout the country and possibly the world.  There was at least one moment in which all time zones, all dancefloors, and many, many fans were dancing to his music at the same time.

The place where I went dancing had the Thriller video on the screens. Three rows of people in the front knew the dance and the rest of us mimicked as best we could, raised our drinks, or enthusiastically sang along. This is truly a part of pop culture history; last night was gave me chills.

I did not know him, so I truly can’t say exactly how I, or anyone else, should feel about his personal life.  I do get goosebumps, though, when I think of the sentiment behind a song that he, along with two other gifted songwriters penned:  “a willow deeply scarred/somebody’s broken heart/and a washed-out dream/they follow the pattern of the wind, ya’ see, cause they got no place to be/that’s why I’m starting with me”

King of Pop, may you rest in peace.  Thank you for the music that has shaped my life.

Geekscape at Bonnaroo! Live Updates!

by Noel Nocciolo

Hello, all in the Geekscape realm!!!  I am braving (sort of… more like enjoying!) the mud, rain, humidity and hippies for a lovely weekend on a farm in Manchester, Tennessee. In other words, it’s Bonnaroo time, kids, and there is a lot to see/hear/experience!!!

After a never-ending car ride up from Tampa Bay, my partner in crime, Ms. D, picked me up from the Nashville International Airport.  The road to Bonnaroo (a.k.a. from Murfreesboro where we, and many others who aren’t camping, are staying) to Manchester (the farm, the festival) was more like a parking lot.  So instead, we bought supplies at Target and had a breast-filled (not really?) dinner at Hooters, and crashed at our hotel, early, like geriatrics, rather than twenty-somethings.

Here I am, in my festival pants, getting it started from the motel:

Tomorrow morning, we’ll check-in and get our media wristbands, head off to press orientation, and let the games begin!

I don’t know if you’re ready for this?  I don’t know if I am, quite frankly…..music, art, comedy, general merriment and joy for three straight days (and nights) to kick off the summer?  I listened to The Band’s “Live From Woodstock” (graciously given to me by my buddy, Roger; thanks again for that!) today in anticipation of an epic weekend.  While in Target, I realized the reason why they were hawking Woodstock-themed goods was due to this summer being the 40th anniversary of the festival.  Can we do our forefathers in rock-festival history-making proud and enjoy peace and music?

Locked and loaded, baby.

DAY ONE

Day one of Bonnaroo began early and ended late.  We rallied early so that we could complete breakfast, two different check-ins, deal with potential traffic and the where-do-we-go-with-this-parking-pass-where-am-I factor.  While in the in the parking lot of the conference center behind the Holiday Inn Express, Ms. D, thankfully, stifled every impulse to start randomly knocking on doors of tour buses, looking for Trey Anastasio, while shouting, “Trey!  I think we could be friends if I’m not scaring you!”

One kind of knows that they’ve stumbled into another realm when a Holiday Inn Express in Tennessee looks more akin to the scene on Saturday night at a NoBu.

I am digging Grace Potter’s big green wellies.

The first press conference of the day were heavy-hitting women, and a few young gentlemen from up and coming bands.  I will spare everyone, including myself, a critical re-hash of what was said, and simply list some of my favorite quotes:

“It is a very big deal how you do at Bonnaroo.”  (when speaking of helping/hurting career/Last Years’ Kanye West Incident)  –Janeane Garofalo

“This is the coolest, big festival.”  –Ani DiFranco

“Like-minded people tend to find each other “ –Janeane Garofalo

“What is needed is not to judge.  It is ok to say the wrong thing and learn something.” –Ani DiFranco

And at the second press conference of the day, Lucinda Williams delivered my favorite Quote Of Bonnaroo Friday:  “I was fortunate enough to start before the music industry got really fucked up.”

The extra-curricular part of my day was checking out the sponsors’ tents.  The Fuse barn boasted karaoke, computers to check email and air conditioning.  I was particularly a fan of the vintage rock and roll pinball games.  So awesome!

We stopped into the Silent Disco, hosted by Vitamin Water.  The Silent Disco is one of Bonnaroo’s more genius creations.  Upon entering, you are given a set of headphones.  A DJ spins tracks that are solely pumped into the headphones, hence ‘silent’ disco.  When people walk by, they only see others grooving incessantly to another world of music, and the occasional outburst of singing along.  When we stopped in, the DJ was spinning remixes of Cream, The Beatles and Bill Withers.   There were other times throughout the day where you might find an 80s dance party, or 70s funk.  Totally fun.  Here I am, slave to the rhythm:

The Arcade Discotheque was a find.  Presented by XBOX360, it provided a break from the Tennessee humidity, a chance to play various games scattered throughout the tent, and Rock Band on a real stage!

Game kiosks @ Arcade Discotheque, by XBOX 360!

 

Rock Band 2 @ Arcade Discotheque!

In our wandering the festival site, getting our bearings, we heard pieces of Gomez, and Grace Potter and the Nocturnals.  Unfortunately, word is out that the Comedy Tent has air conditioning…so we were shut out of that, having not anticipated a line.

Santigold played to an over-flowing tent of revelers, “the best crowd I’ve seen at a festival in the United States” sayeth she.  And it was, as expected, a dance party.  Definitely check out her record!

I did my best to split time at Ani DiFranco and TV On The Radio, previously having the pleasure to see Ani, but not TVOTR.  Even though TVOTR played all I wanted to hear from ‘Dear Science,’ I couldn’t help but think the sound could have been better on Which Stage; it was definitely muddy.  I will have to make a point to see them again.  I caught the last but of Ani from the monitors in the mess hall.  Kind of like Ayn Rand in a way; love her, or hate her, she IS brilliant and does have a point.

“I am a poster girl with no poster, I am 32 flavors and then some…”

Cotton Jones was a find of the day.  They played on the Solar Stage, as the sun was starting to descend, funnily.  It was a mix of solid playing and quirky lyrics.  Check them out!

Ms D opted for the Beastie Boys, and I, David Byrne.  Met up with other friends who had made the journey from NYC, and got a pretty sweet spot for viewing.  David Byrne is weird in every positive sense of the word.  He greeted the start of the set by asking both the professional photographers in the photo pit, and everyone else, to please delete photos where they didn’t look good.  He brought up a small troupe of (amazing) modern dancers, who wore white to match Byrne and the band, and they did choreography throughout most of the performance.  Byrne occasionally gestured in sync with their choreography, providing a through line with the dancers’ movement, and also reason for me to think he wonderful brilliant and weird.  “Once In A Lifetime” lived up to its name for things I’ve always wanted to see.  Like William Miller describing ‘Fever Dog’ by Stillwater in ‘Almost Famous,’ it was incendiary.

‘There but for the grace of God go I’ and I miraculously found Ms D, who had been holding court at a (fantastic) spot for the Beasties/Phish.  True statement:  I have never listened to Phish.  I’m not knocking the scene, I actually think the whole organization of a cottage industry of festivals, which sprung from Phish playing during summers, was impressive and inspiring; I just never listened.  I was expecting all guitar noodles all the time, and was pleasantly surprised when their first two songs were a downright rock and roll show.  Later, it got a little noodly for my tastes, but you can’t not be moved by the sheer amount of people all around, who have been living for this reunion.  In a way, that in and of itself, made it great.

Phish’s blurry light show

Jon Fishman of Phish.  Wish I could get a shot of his dress….

The geriatric vs. twenty-something card was played again, and after the first hour of the set, we made our way to the hammocks in the media area behind the stage.  Phish gave us a gorgeous “Wading In The Velvet Sea,” I found myself half-dozing in spiritual sleepiness.  Ms D and I left Bonnaroo Friday as Phish powered through a cover of AC/DC’s “Highway To Hell.”  Missed Girl Talk.  Missed Paul Oakenfold.   But at least, this story is in for your (I hope) viewing pleasure, I caught a shower and a couple hours of sleep, we won’t be waking up at the crack of dawn for Saturday’s festival, and when I wake up, I will rise to the fact that Jimmy Buffett is the first act of the day.

Oh yeah, did I mention that Jimmy Buffett is coming to Bonnaroo?  It just keeps getting better.  In the words of Ms. D when I asked her how she liked her day, “No one has told me ‘no’ yet today.”

DAY TWO

Jimmy Buffett and the Coral Reefer Band

Bonnaroo Saturday began with Jimmy Buffett, Ilo—a wonderful young artist from the Canary Islands—and the Coral Reefer Band.  Starting our Saturday with Jimmy Buffett was an unexpected little fountain of joy, especially for Ms D who is an uber-fan.  I was especially pleased at their (kick-ass!) cover of the Grateful Dead’s ‘Scarlet Begonias.’

Jimmy Buffett and Ilo chatting with Fuse TV

Following Buffett was a press conference, which continued joy’s little fountain, seeing that Ilo and Buffett were added to the event.  Margaret Cho, Brett Dennen and Robert F. Kennedy, Jr. were also none too shabby, and further added to the eclectic quality permeating the weekend.  There were some doozies of quotes yielded.

Bobby Kennedy, Jr, commented that his kids had been attending Bonnaroo for six years, and he was here as a “way to earn my children’s respect.”  He then invited all of us to join him in an act of civil disobedience in West Virginia, and be arrested in support of ending coal mining.

“Phish is like Rocky Horror; you see it four hundred times, and become part of the cast.”  –Margaret Cho, on Phish’s interactive set with audience clapping, glow sticks, et al

“I’m here for the indie rock cock.  I want to see every different color American Apparel boy brief.”  –Margaret Cho

“What will the carcass of indie-rock yield in ninety years?” –Robyn Hitchcock

On the advent of sites like youtube ,and what that means for him:  “It means we have to fix our hair all of the time.” 

“I never got into it for longevity, I got into it to meet chicks and it just worked out.” –Jimmy Buffett

“It us more important to change politicians than change lightbulbs.” –Bobby Kennedy, Jr.

The second press conference of the day featured Triumph The Insult Comic Dog.  When asked what Bonnaroo means:  “Peace, love and ten-dollar shitty pizza…..this place has more stages than syphilis.”

Brett Dennen, Robyn Hitchcock, Robert F. Kennedy, Jr., and Jimmy Buffett

Heartless Bastards were an attraction to my day.   Check out the music archives for a review of their latest album.  They powered into one of my favorites, ‘The Mountain’ as found grass on which to sit.  Truly perfect, rock and roll early afternoon.

From there, we hit up Brett Dennen on the Sonic Stage for a little change of pace.  We had chatted for a few, and he is an absolute doll.  Anyone who gives an awkward hug in lieu of a handshake has my vote.  His Sonic Stage set, in its brief thirty minutes, garnered a large group of fans.  Ms D wishes the entire festival were a bunch of little Sonic Stages, and I kind of have to agree.

Brett Dennen

From there, I juggled Jenny Lewis in That Tent, Gov’t Mule on Which Stage, and sliding into an acceptable spot for Wilco.  I’m a longtime Rilo Kiley fan, (and sadly was just a few minutes too late to say hi to Lewis and ask about the tiny booties on her feet) and have mixed likes of her solo work.  She played an acoustic version of Rilo Kiley’s ‘Silver Lining’ on which she sounded simply celestial.  She continued that during ‘Happy’ as I waded through the crowd over to Mule, as they were covering Radiohead’s ‘Creep’ with much beauty.  A spot for Wilco called, and sadly Ms D reported back from Mule that I had missed Neil Young’s ‘Southern Man’ with Grace Potter sitting in.  These are the choices of Bonnaroo and I’m glad the festival is filmed for DVD.

Wilco ripped through a tweny-three song set on the main stage before Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band:

1)    Wilco (The Song)
2)    I Am Trying To Break Your Heart
3)    Company In My Back
4)    Handshake Drugs
5)    Bull Black Nova
6)    You Are My Face
7)    One Wing
8)    Pot Kettle Black
9)    Side With The Seeds
10)     Shot In The Arm
11)     At Least That’s What You Said
12)     Jesus, Etc
13)     Impossible Germany
14)     California Stars
15)     Misunderstood
16)     Spiders (Kidsmoke)
17)     Hummingbird  (complete with Jeff Tweedy’s little warming-of-my-nerd-heart’s dance!)
18)     You Never Know
19)     The Late Greats
20)     Hate It Here
21)     Walken
22)     I’m The Man Who Loves You
23)     Hoodoo Voodoo

 Jeff Tweedy and Glenn Kotche of Wilco

Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band came out, about twenty-three minutes late.  And it was exactly what you thought it would be; a bunch of musicians who have been working with each other forever, delivering a large-scale rock and roll show.  Geriatric back-aches set in after awhile, and we went back to the media area through our wonderful little secret passageway, only to find our hammocks from Phish, occupied.  Dejected, we hung out in relatively comfortable lawn chairs, and were confused when out of nowhere, they started into “Santa Claus Is Coming To Town” with a crowd sing-along.  Well, Santa Claus came early at least for me, because somehow Bruce picked up on the vibe I had been Jedi-mind-trick sending him all day long, and played “Growin’ Up” from his first album, “Greetings From Asbury Park,” which is one of my two favorite songs of his.  In shock, I listened.  Upon its finishing, he went into my other favorite song, “Thunder Road,” and I set numb, thanking the Great Spirit Of Set List Making that I was at this show.

BRUUUCE!

Nine Inch Nails, one of Ms D’s must-dos, played from 1am-3am.  I think it’s safe to say that this was his last show in the United States.  Possibly and probably indefinitely; sorry to be the bearer of bad news, and if you are inclined, I am sure there a wealth of articles online that you may search and read further articulating this point.  He has touring and festival obligations this summer in Europe and Asia, should you wish to hop the pond.  I have never been a fan, for both personal and musical reasons, but can appreciate brilliance.

Memorable quotes by Trent Reznor written down by Ms D on her arm as it happened:  “I don’t know about this one in the morning shit.” And “I think I am going to lose my fucking mind if I keep doing this.”

Holla at Trent Reznor’s guns!

I waded through to the other side of the field to catch Ben Harper, a longtime love, and his new band, the Relentless 7, and MGMT, a new love.  I’ll apologize now for the negativity; I generally say nothing if I really hate something and choose to instead focus on the positive….but both of those sets made me want to teach a seminar for musicians called, ‘How To Properly Craft Your Set List So As To Maximize Your Fans’ Enjoyment Without Compromising Your Artistic Vision.’  It was supremely disappointing.  Disappointing is one thing; disappointing in the middle of the night in a field in the middle of nowhere, and you’ve CHOSEN to be there, CHOSEN some sets over others, CHOSEN where to spend time……and it is disappointing….well, you can fill in my blanks.  For the solid forty-five minutes I spent at Ben Harper, I heard no back catalogue whatsoever.  He only played the new album.  It sounded fine, but really?  It just came out, and I’d be willing to lay money down that 90% of the thousands there haven’t heard it. 

Moving over to MGMT, only having one full-length album and one EP, and current compositions that are being recorded but haven’t yet been released……are you REALLY going to make the first four songs that mellow?  REALLY?  I’m not saying they should have opened with a single, but at least throw your (some exhausted, some on drugs) audience a bone, and make it the sometimes-dance party that it should have been!!!  Am I making myself clear?  It is NOT OK to start a 2:15 am set at Bonnaroo with mellow new shit the kids don’t know.  I was so disappointed, that I threw up my hands, crossed the field to (my) hammock, and listened to  Nine Inch Nails ‘Hurt’ as their final bow to touring musicianship.

Day began with Jimmy Buffett, ended with Trent Reznor, and Bruce Springsteen and Jeff Tweedy in the middle.  Does it get any more bizarrely awesome?

The 40th Annual New Orleans Jazzfest!

by Noel Nocciolo

The 40th annual New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival came and went, and I’m always left wishing I would had stayed for just one more day of the festival, or one more night show, or one more shrimp po’boy washed down with one last Abita Purple Haze.

Through JazzFest’s seven day stretch of festival, the New Orleans Racetrack saw 400,000 patrons. The first Friday’s attendance was so heavy, dare I say that it seemed to have the kind of crowd numbers I used to see on Fridays, pre-Hurricane Katrina? It was packed. Which is awesome, especially for a weekday, and awesome for a community who is coming up on the fourth anniversary of one of the United States’ most devastating/nauseating modern events.

The jazz, gospel and blues tents are always a good place to camp out (a sentiment echoed by Wilco’s John Stirratt in his interview with Rolling Stones’ David Fricke) to hear some tunes. I also enjoy them, due to their close proximity to the Cafe du Monde stand, where I can pick up beignets covered in powdered sugar and iced coffee. The gentleman sitting next to me on the plane into town from Dallas, told me that he always starts his Sunday mornings at JazzFest at the gospel tent, “which is funny, seeing as I’m an atheist.” Religion aside, the music resonates in the tents and the crowds spill out into the sidewalk.Marva Wright led a moving tribute to Mahalia Jackson.

jazzfest pictures

Jazzfest

jazzfest marching band

jazzfest pictures

(photos courtesy of Rory O’Neill)

Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings rocked the blues tent on Sunday evening, where I opted to hang instead of braving the crowds of youngsters at the Acura Stage for Dave Matthews Band. Jones is always a slam-dunk; exuberant, talented, plays to the crowd, and a whole lot of fun. The Dap-Kings got the crowd rocking, rolling, and dancing, but we were thwarted by security, and told to stop, and go back to our seats. Apparently, security doesn’t like jovial dancing? Ah well.

JazzFest was my second festival this year with my Mother, who loves Wilco. I thought perhaps she’d love Spoon, too?

jazzfest mardi gras new orleans

Sadly, not to be, though I definitely dig ’em. We caught the first half of Spoon’s set, which featured an appearance of from the Dirty Dozen Brass Band, before catching a few Joe Cocker tunes on the way out. Mama wasn’t feeling Spoon, but a good sport, nonetheless. We pulled up to the main stage right as Joe Cocker began his famous covers of The Beatles’ “With A Little Help From My Friends,” and “She Came In Through The Bathroom Window.” As you might have discerned in my article on Coachella, she is a bit of a Beatles fan. Everyone won.

I had a nice reprise from both the warm weather, and the crowds. John Stirratt, a.k.a. Wilco’s Bassist And Native Louisianan, was interviewed in the race track’s grandstand by Rolling Stone’s David Fricke; a journalist who has chronicled the band over the years, and was interviewed for the Sam Jones’ documentary on the band, “I Am Trying To Break Your Heart.” With air conditioning, maybe seventy five people in attendance (which a third was most definitely the Stirratt family and their friends) and the subject matter being Wilco; I was in my happy place. He spoke of coming of age in the periphery of the New Orleans and Mandeville music scene when he began to follow music and play. It was really nice to hear someone who comes across as genuinely humble talk about his experience in a band who has seen the rollercoaster of success. Especially nice, seeing as though he is the only member of Wilco, save the founder and front-man, who is the only remaining original member.

While relaxing on the grass in a nice spot for Wilco’s set, I realized that I was sitting in front of local journalist, Chris Rose, who has made national headlines in a post-Katrina New Orleans, with his book One Dead In Attic. Just like earlier in the day when I couldn’t bring myself to be the inner-sweet-but-stalkeresque person I feel I can sometimes be, when I was two feet shy of bounding onto Wilco’s tour bus….I found cotton in my mouth. I couldn’t bring myself to extend my hand to the man won a Pulitzer prize for journalism along with his colleagues at the Times-Picayune, and whose honest, brutal and hilarious writing I find to be brilliant. Next time? It is a small world, after all.

jazzfest crowd new orleans post katrina

JazzFest was Mom’s second Wilco experience. She danced and sang along to “Heavy Metal Drummer” and “Hate It Here.” She loved to reiterate the times she heard their songs playing in department stores and coffeeshops, and verbalized her knowledge of the artist to with no new material from their impending June release. I have talked enough about them on this site. If you are unfamiliar with my feelings (a.k.a. undying, everlasting love) for the band, please refer to the first music article published for this site, (shameless plug….sorry!) and my more recent article on Jeff Tweedy, solo.

The find of the weekend was The Avett Brothers. They played on one of the smaller stages, and combined beautiful music with a more intimate setting, even for a festival. Harmonies, a banjo, and uh…is that a cello? Yay! I bought their record, ‘The Second Gleam’ (simply due to there being a song called “Bella Donna” which, to me, makes me think of Stevie Nicks…..sorry if that takes my nerd-cred to a weird place…) when I returned home that night, and it has been on pretty heavy rotation for me ever since. It is calm and acoustic-y and makes me wish I had a front porch in which to rock to and fro in a solid-oak rocking chair with a whiskey sour in my hand.

As in years past, the Miller hospitality tent provided shade, couches, an open bar and a big screen broadcasting the mainstage, in case you didn’t want to deal with the weather or crowds. It’s always a treat to be able to slip into a less populated area of the festival.

jazzfest new orleans crowd

I enjoy wandering to and from the smaller stages. We checked out a tunes from the Del McCoury Band, bluegrass champs from Tennessee, and Wynton Marsalis’ Jazz At Lincoln Center Orchestra, to note a few. The Mardi Gras indians occasionally parade through the crowd, playing and dancing in their plumed costumes, as do local brass groups. (mardi gras indian pictures)

Between runs for iced tea, shrimp and crawfish po’boys, beers at the Miller tent, crawfish monica, and beignets with iced coffee, I felt like I had gained ten pounds and gained more of an appreciation for live music, and a festival that I have loved annually for some time. Suffice it to say, I can’t wait for next year.

Coachella 2009!

by Noel Nocciolo

The Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival celebrated its tenth anniversary of Los Angeles’ Most Hip Youngsters Yearly Outing To The Desert To Sit In Horrendous Traffic And Listen To Really Fantastic Music Festival.  I attended my first Coachella on Friday.  With my Mother.  (Who, by the by, I can guarantee was cooler in her twenties than any of the young concertgoers there…..AND was the one who drove us back to the house at two am…..AND survived far better the next day on two hours of sleep than I could ever hope to survive.) 

Interspersed throughout the very young (i.e. high schoolers from the Inland Empire, San Diego and Orange County) the college kids, and the very ‘with it’ (i.e. various industry types in town for work, the pool-bar parties in Palm Springs, or a combination of the above) were baby boomers who sported grey hair, straw hats and long shorts.  I’m guessing this was more to see Paul McCartney and Leonard Cohen and less for Girl Talk and Franz Ferdinand, but one can never be too sure. 

The pleasant surprise of the experience, was the ‘art’ portion of the ‘…music and arts festival’ title.  Peppered throughout the grassy polo grounds which houses the festival, are large-scale art installations.  They were awesome!  One, named ‘Dobi,’ even went so far as to provide shade, a DJ spinning house music, and a cool mist for the warm temperatures.  Others used hundreds of LED lights and lit up when the sun went down.  It gave visual artists opportunity to show their work to 160,000 or so complete strangers.  Go, artists!

(Thanks to my good friend, Scotty Warren for the following galleries of iPhone pictures!)

Coachella

Traffic SUCKED

Coachella

Ooo! It DOES take place at a polo ground!

Though Coachella is the kick-off to music festival season, I definitely did not attack the day with the vigor that (I PROMISE, I SWEAR) I will attack at upcoming festivals.  I eased my way in; there was a lot to see, especially to a newcomer.  Frankly, I had way too much fun with the art, and at times forgot I was there to hear bands.

Golf carts are pretty commonplace in Palm Desert, but not fantastic lil’ art-carts such as this:

There are three tents set up at Coachella, aptly named for deserts; Gobi, Sahara and Mojave.

Tents By Day
Coachella

Coachella

Stages By Night

Coachella Tents

In my quest for iced coffee and my friend, Alex Rose, (found both…both were worth the search) I heard The Black Keys.  The band was darn good, but not as great as I wish they would be.  Oftentimes, when bands perform, you can see their potential for the next step, whether it will actually be realized in the future, or not.  Watching The Black Keys reminded me that they really are just two dudes killing it on instruments.  There could be potential for other things, but for now (or maybe ever, we’ll see) that’s it.  It’s raw, dirty, rock and roll.  I keep expecting/wanting them to tour with auxiliary musicians on backing vocals and keyboards, to embellish the live show as the most recent album was embellished to great effect….and I can want all I want; it’s two dudes, and two dudes only.

Leonard Cohen performed in his signature way that is pristine sound mixed with vinegar.  His set included “Dance Me To The End Of Love,” “Bird On The Wire,” “I’m Your Man,” and his infamously famous, “Hallelujah.”  (You know, the one Jeff Buckley covered, as did Rufus Wainwright….and you can hear it in ‘Shrek’ sung by John Cale….oh yeah, and the original cut is in the background of the –infuriating– sex scene between Silk Spectre II and Nite Owl II  in “Watchmen”)  Given that we were in the environs of a festival, where top acts are constantly pitted against one another, time slot-wise, in opposite ends of a field, race track, polo ground or park, the crowd does tend to shift from here to there to catch pieces of sets or entire sets.  Cohen played “Hallelujah” towards the end of the show.  As the song finished, about half of the crowd very obviously vacated.  I couldn’t decide whether the thought process was that they could tick “hearing Leonard Cohen play that ‘Hallelujah’ song that I like” off the list, or people were racing to hear something else.

The fun surprise of the day was the strip of time I had between Leonard Cohen and Paul McCartney.  I didn’t think I’d be missing much by missing Morrissey (and was told by others that this was a correct inference) and instead at the urging of Scotty and his girl, Rebecca, headed over to one of the tents to hear Girl Talk.  Girl Talk is the master of the art of the mash-up, while simultaneous turns wherever he is into a joyous dance party.  I had no idea what to expect, since I, apparently, did not know this kind of fun existed in modern music….but it does!  Definitely check him (Girl Talk and his laptop, but it’s soooo much more than just “being a DJ”) out, and join the party.

Sir Paul McCartney
Paul McCartney at Coachella

Paul McCartney began his set at 10:22pm, twenty-two minutes after he was scheduled to play.  He didn’t finish his encores until almost 1am.  Needless to say, I think everyone forgave his tardiness (except for maybe the festival’s promoters, who were fined $1,000 per minute for any artist who went over Indio’s midnight noise curfew…) because the show was AMAZING.  When he entered the stage, he paused for a few moments and walked from one side to the other, taking in the crowd.  Being that this was McCartney’s American Festival Debut, AND he was the ‘cute Beatle’ rather than the ‘cool Beatle’ like John or George….I think he was a little out of his element by the crowd, to tell the truth.  While certainly no stranger to playing for crowds of upwards of tens of thousands of people this was:  1)  not in a contained space, like a sports arena; he looked out to a spilling-over sea of bodies and  2)  filled of the very, very, young and very, very trendy….many of whom held up signs which said that their parents had seen him in (city name here) in 1964 or 1965. 

When greeting the audience in between, he seemed……a little out of it.  Some of our impressions were….Stoned?  Tired?  Drunk?  And a general, ‘what is his problem?’  A few songs in, after playing a moving version of “The Long And Winding Road,” Sir Paul told the audience that today was the eleven-year anniversary of the death of his wife, Linda, who had died of breast cancer at their ranch in Tucson.  He went on to comment that it was a hard and emotional day for his family, who were in attendance, but that it was a good one, too; because “…Linda loved music, she loved the desert, she loved rock and roll.”  From that moment on, it seemed to justify his behavior; I can only imagine that playing for us was simultaneously unbelievably difficult but also unbelievably necessary for him as an artist and a person still experiencing the process known as grieving, to pay homage to his love through music.  From that point on, as cheesy as this sounds, and believe me I know it does, it was as if her spirit came to Palm Desert, and sat with us for awhile.  And Linda brought George and John with her.  McCartney played his ubiquitous cover of “Something” first on the ukelele (George’s favorite instrument) and then added the swell of his electric band to the rest of the track which put a lump in my throat that his since stayed, even days later, trying to put words onto paper.  He played “A Day In The Life,” and after the insanity of the bridge, segued into “Give Peace A Chance.”

Wings’ hits were well-represented with “Jet,” “Band On The Run” and “Live And Let Die,” which set off fireworks, timed to its instrumental breaks.  McCartney sprinkled in tracks from his new Fireman album, as well as past solo track, “Flaming Pie.”  There was a sing along (as I’m sure you can imagine…tens of thousands of people ‘nah nah nah-ing’) to “Hey Jude.”  Other Beatles highlights included “Eleanor Rigby,” “Got To Get You Into My Life,” “Drive My Car,” “Lady Madonna,” “Paperback Writer,” “Birthday,” “Yesterday,” “Back In The USSR,” “Let It Be,” “Blackbird,” “Can’t Buy Me Love,” “Get Back,” “I’ve Got A Feeling.”  His final encore was apt; “Sgt Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band” which then turned into “The End.”

Coachella Paul McCartney

My Mother, who is also named Linda, and is a twenty-plus year survivor of breast cancer, got emotional (and rightfully so) at the evenings’ set choices, and McCartney’s words of love for his wife.  She mused that she saw The Beatles when she was younger than me, and yet is old enough to have an adult daughter, and when remembering the past, it doesn’t seem like there has been any passage of time.  I think that is a part of what is so great about music; it brings it all back into place.  Like George Harrison said,   “…and to see you’re really only very small, and life flows on within you and without you.”

Let festival season begin!

Jeff Tweedy, Solo Acoustic In A High School Auditorium

by Noel Nocciolo

Recently, I had the rare pleasure of seeing Jeff Tweedy, singer/songwriter/guitarist of the band Wilco, perform solo acoustic. While that in and of itself is something that I felt unbelievably lucky to be able to witness, what happened the rest of the evening, well…..blew my mind. I went not with the intention of writing about the show, without a camera and without an abundance of notebooks in which to furiously jot notes to myself. While on the way home, while talking of fandom, Wilco (and, to be fair, My Morning Jacket, as well) fun facts and the overall show with two new friends I met on the train…I knew that I wanted to collect my thoughts and share it with all of you. In short, Jeff Tweedy played in a high school auditorium. Pete Seeger was his opening act, along with a fourth grade class and their teacher. To commemorate Earth Hour, he unplugged his acoustic guitar, sang and played “Someone Else’s Song,” sans power. Really, I can’t make it up. It was just too…bizarre.

 Let us begin at the beginning. I have a thing for Wilco. The first article I ever wrote for this site was about them, (you can read it here: http://www.geekscape.net/features/4093bada752d92524b702a3973e12464/ ) and it doubled as the first time I ever wrote about music, which is something so unbelievably dear to me, it is kind of ridiculous. I can never duplicate how I felt while writing that first remembrance, or first experience with my love-affair with Wilco, so I’ve stopped trying and now continue only writing about what music I love.

OK, I shall digress no more. Here it goes… …I traveled the hour plus train ride out of New York City to the small town of Beacon, New York, to the Beacon High School Auditorium, where the Hudson River Sloop Clearwater, (an organization co-founded by Pete Seeger to combat pollution on the Hudson) was holding a benefit concert. I went by myself, which is how I often like to see Wilco; because when I get emotionally involved in the show, I do not always like to hold it in, even among friends. From the subway, the commuter train, the ride from the nice lady whom I met on the train into town, and then the taxi cab to the high school, I walked into an actual high school. It was decked out to the nines with kids having a bake sale, and the walls were adorned with posters around for powderpuff football sign ups, and fliers for what was to next to grace the auditorium after Tweedy; a production of “Annie.” It seemed worth the hopping, skipping and jumping already. How often do we get to journey back to a generic site of some of our life’s worst memories to see one of our heroes play acoustic guitar? Uh huh, that’s right. 

A ninety-year old Pete Seeger opened the event with a greeting and a sing-along to “Somewhere Over The Rainbow.” I tried my hardest to focus on how totally sweet this was, and less on the girl in my row who was, clearly, auditioning for “American Idol” with her rendition. From there, “The Kids From Room 12,” a class of fourth graders came onstage in the matching t-shirts we all had some variant of in elementary school, with the pants of their choice. (The ham in the loud red sweatpants in the front row was my favorite.) They, along with their teachers and Seeger himself, sang old folk-protest songs, and one the kids had written themselves. To someone who was dying for Tweedy, it went a little long. To the other half of the crowd who were concerned environmentalists, members of the community and parents of the fourth graders, I’m sure it was just right.

Jeff Tweedy always seems to be in some condition of what most would call, ‘rare form,’ each time I see him perform. In New York City, at the revealing of a macramé owl, which was the seventh member of Wilco during their 2006 tour, he encouraged fans to mail their best macramé samples to Wilco, care of the City of Chicago. Then, there was the urgent reminding his sons to go to bed if they were still up listening to the radio broadcast at the Chicago residency, not to forget the cute reparte in New Orleans, (hometown of bassist John Stirratt) of the John Stirratt Fan Club being in attendance. And finally, my favorite, his insistence on our removing the phrase, “I love me some (fill in the blank)” from our personal jargon at the show I attended with my parents in Berkeley. Maybe he’s taking sketch comedy classes, maybe he’s just feeling really fantastic in these years post-rehab, maybe he’s really just amazingly insecure and we’re privy to his onstage persona as his prime defense mechanism. On this night, he was more ‘on’ than a late-night television host. (Jimmy Fallon: take note.) There were stories about his Dad bringing his own beer to Jeff’s wedding, afraid that the bar wouldn’t have his brand; (“not like it was an obscure Belgian micro-brew, it was Pabst”) and one of Dad telling his Jeff’s sister that should she ever be kidnapped, not to worry; her abductors would let her out of the car at the first stoplight.

When Tweedy consented to play an acoustic version of “Hummingbird,” he did so only if we as an audience promised to sing the strings outro in the nasal voice he and his wife use with one another to annoy each other, like a “nyah nyah nyah nyaaahhhh.” He made fun of himself for forgetting one of the approximately nine verses in his opening song, “Remember The Mountain Bed.” Tweedy commented that since the venue was a proper auditorium with lights, he was trying to suspend belief that there were actually people in the audience, yelling for songs, laughing, and clapping, since he couldn’t see. He didn’t want the sounds he was hearing to be mistaken for the voices in his head. When a super-vocal super-fan loudly asked what the voices sounded like, Tweedy responded first with a, “not like that,” and then softened to give us (creepily) interested parties a few examples. He mentioned a voice which critically scolded, ‘dude, I can’t believe you missed a lyric in the first song!’ and a supportive bro-voice, ‘hey man, look they’re eating it up! This is going awesome!’ Tweedy commented that he found it bizarre that he was asked to play at a high school. Shortly after this keen observation, a super-fan hollered for him to play “Handshake Drugs,” to which Tweedy retorted that it was inappropriate, since we were at a school. He didn’t play the song, but the environs did not stop him from doing a (gorgeous) version of “Via Chicago” which opens with, “I dreamed about killing you again last night/and it felt alright to me,” as well as “Heavy Metal Drummer” with the chorus, “I miss the innocence I’ve known/playing KISS covers, beautiful and stoned.”

We were given “Acuff-Rose” and “New Madrid” from the Uncle Tupelo era, “Jesus, Etc” and “I’m The Man Who Loves You” from Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, “Airline To Heaven” and “Remember The Mountain Bed” from the Woody Guthrie covers albums with Billy Bragg, “Passenger Side” from A.M., B-side “Bob Dylan’s 49th Beard” and Loose Fur’s side project’s “The Ruling Class” (two cuts known by those who can truly dig the minutiae) and most importantly, three songs off of Wilco’s June release. I can only assume that the new songs are tentatively titled (who knows what official name they will be given, if they will make the final master of the album, AND we can only speculate at the title of the album itself…) “Solitaire,” “Everlasting” and “Wilco (the song).” I tumbled headfirst into the trap Tweedy masterfully and artfully laid out for me when he sang his new track “Wilco (the song): ‘Are you under the impression that this isn’t your life?/ Do you dabble in depression, someone twisting a knife in your back/Are you being attacked?/Oh this is a fact that you need to know/oh, oh, oh, Wilco, Wilco, Wilco will love you baby.’ Like, totally freak me out, like holy s***t. Thanks buddy. I fell hook, line and sinker for your emotionally honest, ‘yes-that’s-me,-yes-I-really-can-relate-to-those-lyrics.’ For being such a dude’s band, (the only other time I’ve ever seen a men’s restroom line shorter than the ladies’ room was when I saw Tom Waits) I am one chick who truly Can.Not.Stop.Listening. (Even if I, given the choice, would rather take Sue Tweedy out for a pedicure instead of sitting around bullshitting over coffee and cigarettes with Jeff, but I guess that’s cool.)

Tweedy humbly and respectfully mused his disbelief in playing AFTER Pete Seeger. The show’s first encore was Tweedy, Seeger, and Seeger’s grandson, Tao Rodriguez-Seeger– playing “Midnight Special” and “Jacob’s Ladder.” The second encore commemorated Earth Hour. Tweedy played and sang without a mic or an amp. There was light, however, which seemingly defeats the purpose of such commemoration, though, I can’t imagine a couple hundred people in total darkness, in a strange place, as a collective listening to music.

Somewhere at the front of the stage at a high school auditorium in the Hudson River valley under lights that render performers without the ability to see more than shadows, Jeff Tweedy played tunes for a group of people who were with him for each breath. We laughed and clapped, shouted out requests and enthusiastically “wooooo hoooooed,” even though Tweedy thinks its weird to woo hoo at an acoustic show. It was a live music experience that was one of a kind, environmental awareness, fourth graders, folk icons, rice krispy treats for sale, and all.

Review of Mercy – Rocco DeLuca & The Burden’s New Album!

by Noel Nocciolo

Rocco DeLuca & the Burden’s second album, Mercy, for Ironworks Records/Universal Republic dropped today. And it dropped like a ton of golden bricks, wrapped up in silk stockings.

Produced by Daniel Lanois (who produced another of March’s releases, entitled No Line On The Horizon by a band called U2), Mercy is forty-eight minutes of haunting rock and roll. DeLuca uses his voice to effect in spoken word, and in an airy falsetto when the lyrics call for it to be so, and also, simply sings outright. He plays a Gibson Dobro- a guitar which resonates a feeling of stomping in an old-school honkey-tonk. Oftentimes, his hands move across it with such sexy ferociousness that I wonder if this was the craftmans’ initial intent when producing such instrument…

The album meanders through ethereal key changes and holds attention with its imaginative production. In one moment, the music waltzes as though it could provide the soundtrack to a Tim Burton film in the track “Junky Valentine.” Title track “Mercy” is a divine journey, with Keane serving as the appropriately textured backing band. My album favorite is “Nightingale,” a track that progresses along as a lyrical next step forward from what was especially good on the last album. “I Trust You To Kill Me” (though the title of DeLuca’s prior album, was not included in its tracklisting) is finally present, and was subconsciously waiting for some minor DeLuca/Lanois tweaking for it to find new life on the new release. Hell, there’s even a tune you can add to your next playlist for working out: “Save Yourself” whose music video was featured in the DVD for 24: Redemption.

DeLuca was the first artist signed to Kiefer Sutherland and Jude Cole’s independent record label Ironworks Records,  which released his debut I Trust You To Kill Me in 2006. In addition to the name of the debut album, and the name of the second track on this new album, I Trust You To Kill Me is also the name of the documentary you may have caught during its multiple plays on VH1 (or else definitely add the film to your Netflix queue) in which DeLuca and the band embark on tour dates in Europe, with Sutherland acting as their tour manager and key promoter. The blessing and curse of a fly-on-the-wall documentary lies in seeing what you want to see… and also seeing what you wish you hadn’t. This film is both partially brilliant and partially nauseating in that sense.

Luckily for DeLuca, the cream generally rises to the top, in a mixture of talent, timing, hard work and luck.  This album is beautifully put together from beginning to end and an effort that truly deserves recognition.

Rocco Album Cover

 Main photo credit: Daniel Lanois

Tyrone Wells’ Remain Album Review

by Noel Nocciolo

Tyrone Wells has soul.  He’s a tall, lean, bald, white guy with soul.  He’s got so much soul, that he dared release a live, acoustic cover of Bill Withers’ “Ain’t No Sunshine.”  And it’s darn good.

In his new album Remain, Wells takes his soul to the U.K, where a large portion of it was recorded, and at times the registers of his voice morph into Chris Martin’s younger, guitar-playing brother.  Wells, along with the album’s creative team (which includes Matt Scannell of Vertical Horizon, David Archer, formerly of Evanescence, Iain Archer of Snow Patrol and Reindeer Section, Tim Myers, formerly of OneRepublic, and producer Martin Terefe who worked with KT Tunstall and Jason Mraz) came up with some catchy tunes.  I’m sure that laundry list of artist names evoked thoughts, both good and bad, about what this album may sound like, and that’s ok; it did for me too.  Whether you are a lover or a hater of those modern pop-rock acts, those names conjure up some catchy radio songs.  Remain is no exception.

Upon first listen, I already found myself singing along to “All Broken Hearts,” a catchy tune with the chorus ‘hallelujah.’ Wells is the son of a pastor and was raised with strong faith that filters very apparently into his songwriting.

This is the kind of album that you can play while hanging out and making scrambled eggs with your girlfriend; provided you’ve learned how to talk to a girl, and hold her attention long enough for this scenario to arise.  In other words, it’s a specific kind of album for a specific kind of person or situation.  The album is filled with love songs, it can be moody, and at times it ‘sounds British’ with looping drums. Remain is not for everyone, but for those who get what it’s about, be prepared for it to be in heavy rotation.

My picks:  “All Broken Hearts,” “In Between The Lines,” “Together.”

(Footnote:  “Ain’t No Sunshine” is not on the new album, but it IS on iTunes…)

The First Important Rock and Roll Album of the Year

by Noel Nocciolo

With all due respect to The Boss, this is the first important rock and roll album of the year.

The Mountain is a trip through sadness, redemption, anger, and pedal steel guitar.  ‘Singing as though life may depend on it’ is a phrase I generally reserve for Celine Dion, but the same intensity could be applied to singer-guitarist-all-around-badass, Erika Wennerstrom.  Wennerstrom’s vocals are at times indecipherable, but in a good way.  Like Dion’s, they arrive from a place of needing to come out, or life may not go on.  Unlike Dion’s, she has the kind of vocal intensity that does not make you want to climb out of your skin and change the station.

When songs are personal in nature, and you love them, it seems natural to feel like they were written just for you.  Lines of lyrics that may have been just a piece of the puzzle that the songwriter wished to create, take on life in your imagination.  They can remind you of so much, sometimes in the specificity of the words, the “I-Can’t-Believe-Someone-Else-Put-To-Music-Exactly-How-I-Felt-When…” or the vibe itself takes you back.  There are pieces of that sentiment all over this record, a lyric here, a guitar lick there.  Once I finally stopped hitting repeat on the opening song, title track ‘The Mountain,’ and experienced the rest of the album a few times through without stopping, there were more than a couple of times when I had to pause and rewind to be sure I “got it.”

“Could Be So Happy” is an acoustic, echoed lil’ ditty where Wennerstrom opens by stating, “I could be so happy if I just quit being sad.”  It’s well-arranged in its obvious nature, and being second in the tracklisting, it almost helps serve as a thesis statement for the rest of the manifesto.  By contrast, “Early In The Morning” which follows “Could Be So Happy” hits you in the face without being eased into the tune.  The band performs this phenomena continuously throughout the album; at one moment, they are rocking you in their arms with care and love, and in the next, your ass is hitting the cold concrete and you just, well, have to be in pain and be rocking out.  Though there are multiple personalities present in the order of the music, I could not imagine it any other way.

The music itself is tangential rock and roll solos at times; but it’s less crunchy-granola-noodly-jam-band and more……Zeppelinesque.  The presence of the pedal steel guitar is just right, and serves as a reminder that real country roots, not the crap this generation thinks is country-western music, have a place in rock music, provided the producer know what to do.

Wennerstrom and her new lineup have created a rock album that is intense, beautiful and filled with heart, though their name may suggest otherwise.

Heartless Bastards Album Art

Fleetwood Mack – “I Thought Those Guys Retired…”

by Noel Nocciolo

It seems as though there has been a recurring theme subtly (or perhaps not so subtly) surrounding me these days.  Are people reacting to artistic intention or financial need?  Is it possible to genuinely desire both, simultaneously?  Sure, it’s a little deep for casual conversation, and it is indeed slippery, because unless you hear a statement straight from the horse’s mouth, you can’t really be sure; and even if you do, you probably can’t ever be completely sure, because people can be liars.  Times be tough, my friends, and I think we are recognizing need over want and vice versa… or possibly cutting back on both.  Perhaps the supremely wealthy are feeling it a bit too, else these thoughts wouldn’t be circulating and the super groups of yore wouldn’t necessarily be hitting the road?

Fleetwood Mac is ‘reuniting’ (if we can even call it that, seeing as though Christine McVie is hanging out at home in England, presumably planting a rose garden and not boarding the bus(es)) this spring for a tour hitting stadiums and hockey arenas around the United States and Canada.  It was accurately pointed out to me that the Mac did not bother taking new press pictures for the tour; they are using the same shots from 2003’s outing.  Considering that ‘Landslide,’ ‘Dreams,’ ‘Don’t Stop,’ and ‘Rhiannon’ are played daily on radio stations worldwide, and Hollywood cannot seem to stop licensing their songs for use in film, you can’t tell me that these guys aren’t still cashing in off of their hits of the 1970s.  (Or at least, the principal songwriters are doing so, in all fairness). Nice work if you can get it.  However, could Fleetwood Mac not be bothered to meet for an hour in a park, or in a non-descript office building, or in a Starbucks, for crying out loud, and take some new photos? We are living in the age of Photoshop airbrushing; a publicist is not going to approve a photo in which you look like something the cat drug through the yard, I promise. To the remaining four: Lindsey, Stevie, Mick and John, yes I am talking to YOU….could you not pick up the phone and call your old pal Annie Leibovitz? Or ANYONE really, who can focus a lens and deal with your egos? I guess we should not expect much, seeing as though in 2003-2004 they were touring behind a (very solid, I might add) new album: Say You Will. In 2009, the tour is called “Unleashed: The Hits.”

Call me a hypocritical jerkface, (because let’s face it, we all wear that hat at one time or another) but I’m, like, totally going to the Madison Square Garden show whether it’s a money grab or not, because my gay boyfriend and I may not have another chance to twirl together during ‘Gypsy.’ The band may have had a lot of work done, and rehab completed, but they’re still in their sixties and not everyone can be as lucky as Mick, Keith and Tina. I’m not taking chances that this could possibly be it, but I did roll my eyes as I paid my AmEx bill, thinking of the gold pashmina shawl I probably bought Miss Nicks. Whatever. My choice.

Moving on.

In 2004, Phish announced that they were to be finished as a band.  They had an illustrious career playing by their own rules.  They organized their famous Halloween shows, covered classic albums by The Who and The Beatles among others, unannounced, from start to finish at selected shows, not to mention the success of the festivals created by them, for them and for their devoted phans.  In building over twenty years, a cult-like following in the jamband scene, they were able to carve a niche, culturally speaking, continuing where earlier bands, like the Grateful Dead, had left off.  Phish were voluntarily finished.  This was not a hiatus, nor a time out. This was not a joke.  This was it.  Phish threw one last hurrah as a collective in Coventry, Vermont over two days for their legions of die-hards.  I’m sure there were laughter and tears, and rainbow of other emotions for all parties involved.

Without warning beyond rumors and speculation, in the winter of 2008, Phish decided to play emotional roulette with their phans, and four-and-change-years later…like…dude…ohmygod…they are back together and doing three random nights in Hampton, Virginia in March of 2009, followed by a round of dates in June.  This is the jamband holy grail, right?  Do Trey, Mike, Jon and Page love what they create as a whole and love their fans SO MUCH that they cannot HELP but reunite?  Or are the mortgages just too damned high on their Tribeca lofts, or Central Park West classic-six apartments…oh and the kids’ private school just jacked the price of tuition?  The revenue associated with a live show, be it through tickets or merchandise, is what financially fuels this kind of music.  The offers they surely have been fielding to play shows with one another are probably quite staggering.  Phish does not make the kind of killing that, say, Bruce Springsteen makes on album sales and licensing to films and their soundtracks. I’m all for living the high life, however you want to interpret that phrase, pun intended, or not…but Coventry was supposed to be IT.  Done.  Finale.  Other projects are in the works; no member is ceasing to be an artist, whatever that title may mean to the individual, just because Phish is no longer working as a collective.

Not entirely unfounded rumors circulated the internet in December of 2008 that they are to headline the last two nights of 2009’s Bonnaroo.  I cannot blame the festivals’ promoters for throwing this possibility into the fire.  Large-scale festivals are amazing experiences, and are amazingly expensive to throw.  What company wouldn’t want a financial slam-dunk in a turbulent economy?  Who wouldn’t want a sell out and a golden opportunity to recoup your investment?  Here we go again with artistic intent; Phish’s members have played the festival in one form or another in just about every year since Bonnaroo’s inception in 2002.  When I saw them in multiple forms in 2005 and 2006, they looked like they were having a hell of a good time.  It makes me wonder what kind of paycheck would Phish be receiving for their hours upon hours long sets?  Would it be enough to satiate their financial desires and would their fans look the other way, like I did when I clicked ‘send’ on my computer to buy tickets to Fleetwood Mac?  Does this mean they’ll be cashing in on an infinite amount of tour revenue for the next while?  And is it ok if it’s a purely financial move?  Is it a purely financial move?  I don’t know, and I doubt anyone beyond those four truly do know.  What I do know is that SOMETHING had to be enormously motivational to prompt this kind of shift in the plan of Phish.  And why would Fleetwood Mac just randomly decide to tour, without a new album?  Am I a sucker to hope that it’s solely for the love of the music? 

I recently saw a band virtually-unknown-in-America-unbelievably-huge-in-Ireland at a small venue. It was a record label showcase and the crowd was quite….odd. It was mostly John and Jane Doe Concertgoer; normal and refreshingly non-descript, (especially for New York’s hipper-than-thou Lower East Side) with Sony Music executives sprinkled in for requisite measure. For the added kick, there were very loud, very tart splashes of 20-something Irish ex-pat girls who had been following their career religiously, and were boisterous with their love for the band and for the beer, and their love for the taking of pictures with each other during the set. The vibe in the room did not know what it wanted to be. The band onstage did not know, either. Blessed with the curse of pop-star-worthy good looks and the pop harmonies to match, the four Irish lads could not decide whether they wanted to be a boy band or U2 crossed with The Police. Their songs vacillated greatly between Top 40-worthy radio love songs, and the attempt to be dark and moody; writing about the dodgy streets of Dublin. 

After hearing the history of the band, and the plan for what the (major) label were looking to do with them, that pesky question of mine reared its ugly head once more. “Do these guys really want to play pop love songs and dodge girls who grew up on New Kids On The Block? Or do they want to be playing edgier, more rock and roll material and the suits at Sony are just not having it?” They are pretty damned attractive, but not in the Maroon 5 sensible pop-rock marketable way (I also doubt they were reared on Stevie Wonder.)  They know how to turn knobs with effect in a recording studio, and they’re pretty cheap to keep on a roster, especially since they haven’t broke into the American mainstream as of yet. It’s interesting, really. They signed on the dotted line, and I doubt anyone held a handgun to their head while it was occurring. Artistic fulfillment? Time will tell. Or it won’t.

Stephen Sondheim, (aka God of Man for all you closeted musical theatre nerds…) brilliantly wrote the line “Art isn’t easy, even when you’re hot, advancing art is easy, financing it is not.”  As true as this lyric can be, it also makes me wonder if ‘financing it’ could be easier than the actual advancement? Perchance it might be easier to endorse a check.

Interview: Drew Smith and Matt Russell

by Noel Nocciolo

I had the pleasure of sitting down with Austin musicians Drew Smith and Matt Russell in the Miller Beer tent at the 2008 Voodoo Music Experience, after watching their set. We enjoyed a cold one and a chat about the state of the musical union.

(Note: I forgot to turn on the tape recorder at the start of the interview. Drew and Matt are so awesome and chill, and our conversation just kind of began without formality. We started with how much we love Dr. Dog. Let’s begin there.)

Noel Nocciolo: Your vocals kind of remind me a little bit of one of the guys in Dr. Dog’s and Neil Young. Actually, Dr. Dog’s collective vocals sometimes remind me of Neil Young, so it makes sense. It sucks, one of the singers has terrible vocal nodules.

Drew Smith: No shit? Did you get to interview them?

NN: I didn’t. I reviewed their record, though, for the site.

DS: Which one?

NN: The new record, Fate.

DS: I haven’t bought it yet, but I have heard some of the songs. Their last two records, were SO good, We All Belong the one before that, Easy Beat.

NN: So great. This new record is like a souped-up version of We All Belong. They tracked strings and horns, it is sooo good, it’s still all of the things we love about them. When I saw them perform back in April, I could almost hear one of their singer’s nodes forming on his cords. I felt bad to have called it, but right as the record was coming out over the summer, they were doing press, and he had to go on vocal rest, and they ended up canceling or postponing a bunch of shows.

DS: The last time I saw them, they were so fucking tired, you could just see how many shows they had played. Still so good, though.

NN: Back to you. I’m a huge Randy Newman/Harry Nilsson fan and that was the draw for me to want to interview you. When I went to your MySpace page, and saw that you had a song up called “Nilsson Sings Newman,” I initially thought it was some sort of playlist, because of the record with that same name, and then when I realized that you actually had written a song about that record, I was so psyched. I mean, ‘Cowboy’ still kills me every time I hear it.

DS: Oh I know!  

NN: How were you introduced to Harry Nilsson and Randy Newman’s music?

DS: My father-in-law. I was dating my, now, wife, and he played it for me. And my wife always listened to them growing up, and was surprised I hadn’t heard him (Nilsson). He played ‘Jump Into The Fire,’ and I thought “this guy has got it going on, he is really, really great.”

NN: One of your songs, and of course I don’t know names yet, I know by track numbers and vibes, but one of them reminded me of a plugged-in Harry Nilsson.

DS: So cool.

NN: I’m sure that was what you were after, subconsciously?

DS: This record, specifically, came about when I was getting into Nilsson. It’s not what it is all about; I really like Van Morrison, love all the greats, but he moved me more than anyone else had moved me in a long time. I’m actually kind of afraid that I won’t be that moved again, that I won’t find anyone else that does that to me.

NN: It’s really hard for me to listen to a lot of modern music, because I hold songwriters like Nilsson, Newman, Tom Waits, Frank Zappa in such high regard, that a lot of modern music is lost on me. Of course, everyone is borrowing from everyone else, and that’s fine but it’s kind of like, where is the next great songwriter? Is that ever going to be again because that road has already been blazed?

DS: We feel the same way. That’s kind of how we came about, Matt and I. I’ll let Matt take over.

NN: Yeah, how did you guys meet?

Matt Russell: Bands like Dr. Dog are great, because they harken back to all of that stuff that we love, like The Beatles, but it’s not like it’s totally original, because they’re borrowing from everything.

DS: They’ve got roots.

MR: Yeah, the lineage is there. Totally. I kind of get upset with R&B – that artists don’t quite follow that was laid out for them. Same with country, but with few exceptions. In a way, it’s hard to be original, because we keep wanting to harken back to what we’ve heard, so as far as something coming along that is totally new and different, I think it would be more subtle. Maybe years later you’d realize it and see a shift with bands. But your question was how we met?

DS: (laughs)

NN: (laughs) Yeah. You met geeking-out over Nilsson Schmilsson?

DS: (laughs)

MR: We met under professional circumstances. I’m a professional musician, I play for a living and so does everyone else in our band, actually, we make money, making music. I was in grad school, and I got a call from a drummer-friend of mine who I was in school with, about a songwriter who was putting together a band for a private party in Corpus Christi. We had to learn a bunch of cover songs, and he promised everyone $600. We get together, learn cover songs, play this gig, get paid, and then he bamboozles us into doing some of his original stuff.

DS: Bamboozle is a good word.

NN: It is! It’s an SAT word that you don’t hear too often.

MR: I got it from Barack. I liked that word BEFORE he started using it. So then, that same band started rehearsing his original stuff. We liked it enough to stick with it, even though he could never again promise us $600 a gig. Ever.

NN: The love of the game.

MR: I’ve been with him the longest. We kind of mix and match the other musicians. We try to tap from the Austin music scene. There are some really great players.

DS: Matt does all of the arrangements on the record, the horn arrangements, the string arrangements…I go to him with an idea for a tune, just flushing it out. We wrote a song for the record together. It was the first time for me, because I’m not a good co-writer, I’m selfish, but we wrote it right there in the studio. It was kind of the magical song on the record. It’s called ‘New Year’s Day’. Hopefully, we’ll do more of that. For now, Matt’s doing the arrangements and I’m writing.

MR: We used to play with horns a lot, so my music school background enabled me to write charts. I think my role is more of as a liaison to the rest of the band, to be able to translate what he wants. I think any time you have a songwriter who comes from a not-music school background, you need that kind of liaison.

DS: He’s my musical director.

MR: Even at the beginning, he paid his band, even if he lost money, $50 out of his pocket, to ensure that the musicians kept coming back. They liked the music so much, that they would do it for free if they had to, but Drew would never let that happen. It was more of an incentive. Some of the guys in the band are pretty fickle about their paychecks, but if they were going to play for not much, it would HAVE to be good.

NN: As far as the record and buying it…I’m one of those people who has a hard time with iTunes. I mean, I get it, it goes to the masses and if I want one song off The B52’s Greatest Hits, I buy it, it’s done. But the joy of going to your local record store, seeing what’s come out that week, hearing what the owner recommends, buying vinyl, buying a CD. I mean, even my local store in New York City closed a couple of months ago, because the neighborhood is gentrifying and they can’t pay their rent. For me, to get your record, which I would have happily bought had it not been given to me in your press kit, to see it and to see the tender loving care put into the actual packaging of the record; I knew it was going to be special before I even put it on.

DS: That’s great. That is exactly what we were going for. Our whole idea was any time you could wrap art within art, you have your music, and present it wrapped in art, the packaging, and you wrap that with artistic posters promoting your band. People are going to appreciate that, or at least the right people, the people who get it, who care, appreciate that. I met Dave Schwab in Austin, through Fat Caddy Records. Fat Caddy has a sub-business, and they do stuff like that; they make t-shirts and art.

NN: One-stop shopping. More people are doing that.

DS: The role of the label has completely changed because it’s had to. And technology, obviously. I met Dave Schwab at a show, he came over, we had dinner at my house, and we clicked immediately. He showed me stuff that he had made. I made a poster for South By Southwest a few years back that was photographs of an Army marching band. He had seen that, and after he saw our show, we talked about all of the art. My only idea for the album’s art was that I wanted a lonely musical note, for the Lonely Choir, and he just took it from there. It was art wrapped in art.

MR: We had talked, too, that this might be the last tangible object that we make. Maybe our next record will be totally digital. I don’t know know if going to the record store will be as important to the kids that come after.

DS: Oh it will be, but just in smaller forms. There will always be the sub-cultures of people who love buying the artwork associated with bands…I hope!

NN: I think as long as people of our generation, and in the generation above us, have kids that are growing up to be discerning music-listeners, going to JazzFest in New Orleans, Austin City Limits; I saw a ton of people with kids at both of those events. It’s going to be smaller, but it’s not going to die. It can’t.

MR: People do care about art. People will always be expressing themselves. Others are interested in that, not just other artists.

DS: And having an album to have an album, not just a single, but an overall vibe to a project; that was important to us.

NN: To totally switch it up now, What exactly are the things that you two love, besides music? Where do you find your geek niche?

DS: Hahaha, we should answer that for each other! Matt geeks out on Denver, Colorado sports. He grew up a sports fan, and his Dad would always take him to games in Denver.

MR: I’m not a very good athlete…..but the swing of the bat is artistic, I think. It’s a great way to get away from music.

NN: What is Drew’s?

MR: The Kinks? Harry Nilsson? Right now he’s geeking out on his house. Fixing floors and cabinets.

DS: Yeah, we bought a house a couple of years ago. Let me see if there’s a little glue to show you.

NN: You mean you’ve actually, physically been putting down floors?

DS: Yeah. Redid the kitchen.

NN: I love it. Rock and roll domestic.

DS: Just learning as I go!

 

Drew Smith’s Lonely Choir’s debut record is out now, you can learn more at www.drewsmithmusic.com

Top Ten Albums Of 2008

by Noel Nocciolo

2008 was not the bold-faced year like that of 2007, which saw releases from Bruce Springsteen, Alicia Keys, Wilco and superlative-laden indies Arcade Fire. Though I constantly bemoan that my tastes reflect that I was born into the wrong era, this era put out some definite gems in the last twelve months. Let’s explore.

10. The Black Keys, Attack and Release

One of my oldest and dearest friends sent me this record, simply saying, “you’ll love it, trust me.” He was right. Listen to the organ and drums in track one, “All You Ever Wanted,” two minutes and eighteen seconds into the song. They come out of nowhere and bloom into this visceral experience that makes you want to pump your fist in the air. This record truly came out of nowhere for me. Produced by Danger Mouse, and executed by the two, (yes, there are only two) band members, Patrick Carney and Dan Auerbach. It’s blues. It’s Southern rock. It’s twinged in bayou. It’s worth a buy. I’ll forgive them for having a song on Gossip Girl.

How to listen: With a bottle of whiskey and chipped ice.

9. Vampire Weekend

I normally shut off my brain and hear crickets chirping when stumbling upon the newest “it” band from Brooklyn and/or Manhattan, but I didn’t this time with Vampire Weekend. This is probably due to the fact that they put out Paul Simon’s Graceland for the internet generation. Artists constantly borrow from each other; no one lives in an underground cave without musical references. Some of it sounds like anyone probably could have programmed it after attending a GarageBand seminar at the Apple Store, but it is fun, and we need fun music. The staying-power turning point for these ivy-league kids will be if their lyrics grow deeper with the next record… if it’s not on my best of list of 2009, you’ll know how I really felt.

Vampire

How to listen: At home, with a keg of beer, plastic cups, your college buddies and Super Nintendo.

8. MGMT, Oracular Spectacular

Like I said, crickets chirping. It took me until November to pick this bad boy up, but let me tell you, when artists have the guts to say, “I’m feeling rough, I’m feeling raw, I’m in the prime of my life/Let’s make some music, make some money, find some models for wives/I’ll move to Paris, shoot some heroin and fuck with the stars/You man the island and the cocaine and the elegant cars” as the first verse of the first song on their debut, the entire rest of the album could be absolute shit, and I would still admire their keen ability for the tongue in the cheek.

MGMT

How to listen: After you finish listening to Vampire Weekend and achieve a high score at MarioKart, throw this one on to dance around, drunk with your college buddies.

7. My Morning Jacket, Evil Urges

A studio record does not do justice to this live act. Period. In order to totally get it, you have to see them. I read a review of their set at this year’s Bonnaroo, in which the writer was, literally, peed on by the guy standing next to her. And she didn’t move. He couldn’t be bothered to miss a song by venturing to a port-a-potty, and she couldn’t be bothered to move away from the peeing man and be distracted. Evil Urges is the next best thing to a MMJ live show. Thankfully, urine is not included. Jim James vacillates between being a rocker and being a muppet, but I mean that as a compliment. “Touch Me I’m Going To Scream (part 1)” will make you wish you could lie in bed with your lover all day long.

Jacket

How to listen: Either lying in bed with your lover, or on your morning commute. Same thing, really.

6. Jakob Dylan, Seeing Things

There is a place for chill, mostly acoustic guitar music and a calm, beautiful voice. Sorry Jack Johnson; your disc did not make my cut; Jakob Dylan will get you my pretty and your little dog, too, any day in songwriting and production value. “Seeing Things” is where you should look if you want a record for a train ride through the most boring of scenery; it will somehow make everything more beautiful, even if you drift in and out of sleep while listening. This effort stands on its own; it doesn’t matter that his Dad is revered as a demi-god in some circles.

Dylan

How to listen: While doing housework, homework, or at your boring day job.

5. Dr. Dog, Fate

I wrote about this record upon its release earlier this year, and I absolutely stand by its beauty five months later. This band is an absolute MUST if you were (like me) born at the wrong time, salivate over vinyl, find platonic lust in stories about Woodstock and The Band, and wish you could have been alive to meet a Pet Sounds-era Brian Wilson. Dr. Dog is yet another reason to love analog tape and camaraderie over music. Strings, harmonies and inherent joy between five dudes, known as one lettered pseudonyms, Thanks, Triumph, Taxi, Tables and Text. This is the real deal. Truth.

Dr.Dog

How to listen: In headphones, so you can hear the layers. Don’t multitask while listening, just sit and soak.

4. Thievery Corporation, Radio Retaliation

Dude. Man. This album is KILLER. This one was also reviewed and it’s the gift that keeps on giving. I give major props to the packaging; definitely buy the in-the-flesh disc. The liner notes are the best you’ll find; a pull out of inspiring quotes from Einstein, Chomsky and Chief Seattle, to name a few.

Thievery

How to listen: While hosting a barbeque, or on a plane to somewhere fantastic.

3. Andrew Dost, Columbus

Call it a concept album, call it a musical, or call it like I do; a gorgeous ride that I wish I could hear again for the first time. This is the musical equivalency of the lean-in-and-pause of the first time you kiss someone you really, really like. It is available online RIGHT HERE and vinyl-loving nerds will be pleased to know that they can be satiated with a purchase. I speak without hyperbole when I say that I can’t wait for the day that ‘Columbus’ tours as a collective rock show, or finds life in an off-Broadway theatre. Move over Duncan Sheik; his name is Dost and the texture in his score will kick Spring Awakening’s ass.

Columbus

How to listen: From beginning to end, without stopping.

2. Randy Newman, Harps And Angels

There are some true doozies on this album. Leave it to Randy to talk about Korean parents’ strict standards for their children, on the same record as one of the most tender love songs you’ll ever hear. If Randy Newman released an album on which he recited the Moscow phone book, in Russian, resplendent with harsh accent, I would still buy it.

Randy

How to listen: In the car with Dad, if Dad has a sense of humor.

1. TV On The Radio, Dear Science

OK, OK, OK, fine. I really, truly, sincerely detest agreeing with the masses, unless it pertains to popular (and seemingly correct) opinion about January 20, 2009. Every other top 10 list has this at their number one slot….and it deserves every glass of Dom Perignon raised in its honor. Hearing it is like hearing OK Computer or Yankee Hotel Foxtrot or Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band for the first time; you feel that it is something different, something that will burst your consciousness open, something that will re-instill your faith in music meaning something. I have to admit, I still don’t totally ‘get it.’ I think that might be ok, and I think that might be the point.

TV on the Radio

How to listen: Wherever, whenever…if you’re like me, you’ll probably need to give it multiple listens, but you’ll pick up on something new with each turn.

Most Highly Anticipated Album Of 2009? Not-yet-but-soon-to-be-titled debut album from Fun, arriving Spring 2009

Fun

If the names ‘Anathallo’ ‘Steel Train’ and ‘The Format’ perk your discerning ears, then Fun is destined to be your new favorite pseudo-super-group. Formed early in 2008, this trio, with a revolving roster of friends, have been eating, half-sleeping and breathing a record in a dimly lit, tapestried, Los Angeles studio, book ended with an acoustic tour opening for Jack’s Mannequin. 2009 promises to be a Fun one. www.myspace.com/fun

 

Thievery Corporation’s Radio Retaliation – The Review

by Noel Nocciolo

There is a key thing you need to know about Thievery Corporation’s new record, Radio Retaliation: It. Fucking. Rocks. You’ve already seen photographic evidence of their awesomeness at the 2008 Voodoo Music Experience, now it’s time to talk about their music.

Music festival staples, DJ’s, and production masterminds Eric Hilton and Rob Garza brought the noise, brought the funk and part of what makes their project always evolving and fantastic, brought in a fresh crop of fantastic collaborators. It’s called Radio Retaliation, and it is available in stores now. Buy it. Better yet, buy it from your local record store if you still have one from which to purchase. And if not, I guess buy it from The Man? Just…buy it. Buy it and listen thoroughly before you attribute them to the soundtrack of Zach Braff’s coming-of-age serio-comedy. Wait…anyways.

Thievery Corporation’s music has been a staple of what I attribute to the soundtrack of my “Noel Going Out In New York City During Her 5-Night-A-Week Club Phase, 1999-2003, Heaviest In 2001-2002.” Their past efforts are fantastic, and part of what made them fantastic was that they bordered on, for lack of a better term, porn. It used to be for making out and grooving in a lounge, but unlike other artists in the “genre” it is smart and well-executed with good voices, good horns, and good beats. Either I grew up (perish the thought) or I really started listening to lyrics, but 2008’s Radio Retaliation kicked it up more than a few pegs. We hear in ‘The Forgotten People’: “I’m the president of the shattered government, the grand governor of the federal reserve, public enemy of the society….” I am a fan of not holding back when it comes to art.

Radio Retaliation

The record starts you off with “Sound The Alarm”, which begins, literally, with an air raid alarm, and drops you into a reggae-tinged party track. Yes, the album goes deep into lyrics to make you think, (this is kind of the point…) but don’t worry, it’s still some sexy music. This is a record to have on hand for when you throw a party. I peeled my winter coat off before I started writing this piece, and in listening, the record made me wish that I were wearing a sarong while barbequing and mixing margaritas. Subsequently, this is also the kind of record to have playing at home when needing to be inspired to make a change to better your life, be it to actually turn off the gaming system once in a while (I know, I know) and consider the state of our union, or to be playing in the background for inspiration as you draft the next great American novel. Or you can do what I did and dance around in your underwear while singing along, punctuated by Facebook chat. “Blasting Through The City” is a beautiful reggae tune dripping in delicious electronic reverb. The record leaves us with “Sweet Tides”; which is a fitting end; less air raid, more ethereal vocals, and talk of love.

It is fitting that Washington D.C. is where Eric and Rob live and work. With President-Elect Barack Obama’s globally aware worldview and upcoming inauguration, it makes me hope that one of Obama’s bright young advisers has considered the option of Thievery Corporation being the in-house party band for the festivities that night.

 

Thievery Corporation’s “Radio Retaliation” is out in stores now and available on www.eslmusic.com

Grace Potter and the Nocturnals Interview

by Noel Nocciolo

During the recent insanity of Voodoo Fest in New Orleans, our very own Noel Nocciolo sat down with Grace Potter and the Nocturnals front woman, uh, Grace Potter, to talk ice cream, musical influences and the best underwear to sport onstage. If you’re not already a fan, you’ve probably heard Potter’s music playing during some of TVs biggest shows (Kyle XY, Grey’s Anatomy, One Tree Hill). Now get to know the singer a little bit better. Photos by Rory O’Neil.

Noel:  My first question is….what is the Grace Potter geek-out?

Grace:  OK, this is going to be REALLY LAME, but my favorite thing to watch, even when I’m on the tour bus, is the six-part miniseries of Pride and Prejudice, with Colin Firth, and Jennifer Ehle.  I was in Spain when I was fifteen, and these girls that I met over there, it was the only English-speaking movie they had, you know how they always overdub everything.  So I watched.  It’s a total of six hours, I watched it over and over, it was like my little comfort over in Spain.  I was just at a record store, and they had the whole six-part miniseries for, like, four bucks.  I was like, fuck yeah!  So I took it, and I’ve been watching it.  Whenever the guys walk by my bunk and see me watching it, they’re always like, laaaaame.

N:  Nerd!  I love it!  Since you’re from Vermont, I have to ask your favorite Ben and Jerry’s flavor?

G:  I would have to say definitely coffee heath bar crunch.

N:  Rad.  That’s top five for me.

G:  It’s the crunchiness.  I mean, I also like my cookie dough.  This is going to sound like the worst thing ever, but I don’t really like ice cream all that much. 

N:  OK….

G:  I’m not really an ice cream person, I’m more of a cheese person.  I don’t know if you noticed, but our tour bus has a big block of Cabot cheddar cheese on it.  We have a sponsorship from them, because that’s how much we love them.

N:  Right, and you’re from Vermont, so are they.

G:  Their cheddar cheese is the best.  And it actually was voted, in Wisconsin, as the world’s best cheddar.

N:  Wow.  Have you toured in Holland?  Have you tried real Gouda?

G:  (clearly affecting an amalgamate of a European accent)  No, we haven’t but the next time we goes to Europe we tries it.  We were just in Switzerland.

N:  Well, there’s Gruyere.

G:  Yeah, Gruyere is a really great cheese.

N:  Besides cheese, what gets you out of bed in the morning?

G:  I always have to pee.  Or, my tits are hanging out.  Seriously, I sleep naked.

N:  Even on the bus?

G:  Yes.  And this morning, I was baring it all.  And my curtain was a little bit open, and there were people walking by.  You know, you wake up, you freak out, and I definitely showed my boobs to at least four people this morning.  Usually when I get out of bed in the morning, it’s very great.  It’s always very late, when I’m home, its because of my dog, she gets up on the bed.

N:  What do you have?

G:  She’s a little Habanese.  She’s not that little, though, she’s like thirty pounds.  They’re supposed to be these little twelve pound lap dog, but I think the breeder lied to me, and she’s a little poodle/terrier thing.  She’s awesome.  But yeah, when I’m on the bus, I get out of bed because of some sort of overexposure of some sort.

N:  What is one of your more embarrassing moments?

G:  Oh MAN there are so many, and they often involve me showing my private bits.  Onstage, I fell over. I fell over a monitor at the Newport Folk Festival in front of, like, eight thousand people. I was backing up to leave the stage, and I had a little skirt on and underwear, but it wasn’t very big underwear. Like, not full-on bloomage.

N:  You were wearing a thong?

G:  Yeah, it was a thong, and I was, like, splayed out for the world to see, which was fine, but I have taken to wearing bloomers.

N:  I can understand.

G:  I’m now trying to avoid those moments. I learned my lesson in front of eight thousand people.

N:  One serious question: Rory was born and raised in New Orleans, and picked up on this a bit more than I did. Is there anyone that you look up to from New Orleans, musically? We’ve been joking that you sound like a black girl trapped in a white girl’s body.

G:  I am! There’s a million, Marva Wright.

N:  She’s here. Does she play today or tomorrow? I’ll check.

G:  I mean, Dr. John is one of my all-time greatest influences ever. I mean, the way he plays the piano is what I aspire to do, or at least be capable of, which I’m not, by the way. He really blows my mind. Another musician that I’ve loved for awhile is Shannon McNally, she’s a wonderful songwriter, I’ve known her for years, and we’ve played together quite a bit. Jon Cleary, who plays with Bonnie Raitt, he’s the piano player for Bonnie Raitt, he actually has gotten really close to my sister. Whenever I’d get to come and visit, I’d spend time.

N:  You’re able to come to New Orleans quite a bit?

G:  Yeah, I mean my sister left after Hurricane Katrina, because she lived on the bywater, she got hit pretty hard.  She’s a glassblower, and the glassblowing company she was working for, I think the building collapsed, which was terrible.  She was unable to come back, which sucks, because she was my best excuse to come down here. Also, Ivan Neville and all the guys from Dumpstaphunk, whom we’ve played with so many times, I absolutely love the way that they have kind of brought New Orleans wherever they go, since most of them don’t live here anymore, which is too bad.  But yeah, I know, and have known a lot of great New Orleans musicians. George Porter has given us some really crucial advice in our times of despair. There’s so many musicians from down here; there’s an undeniable influence that you can hear in a lot of bands’ music, whether they admit it or not, New Orleans is a part of most rock and roll bands in some way or another.

N:  It’s good to hear you say.

G:  It’s true!

Interview