4/22/10

If you weren't at the Bama Theatre Thursday night then 1., you're a bad person (like, morally abhorrent), and, 2. all the cool people are going to laugh at you. It was one of the best shows I've been to, and it showcased all the good stuff about local music.
Josh Sawyer opened, C!C! played, and Josh Folmar played three songs with C!C! backing him as a special guest. C!C! also backed one of Josh Sawyer's songs, "The Warden" (a favorite of mine), turning it into a Dylan-ish rocker, and dueting with Sawyer playing a cover of "Long Black Veil." I'll get back to that in a minute.
Josh opened with his three originals, like I said, and then C!C! stepped up. Since it was acoustic night they opened with some of their more acoustic guitar driven songs from the EP. They're still good songs, and reward repeated listening (standout tracks from the EP are "Dying Doves," "Kiter," and "Breeze Like an Antelope." Good songs, and also (if one knows the chronology of their writing), interesting for the lyrical evolution display) (if you want the musical leap then you should listen to the The Bird's Run side by side with Sasprilluh Champange). Sawyer got back up on the stage to play "The Warden." C!C! backed him and upped the tempo, turning it from reflective to rocker (still reflective though). The song has always sounded Dylanish to me, and C!C!'s backing made it all the more so. Kinda like it could be a B-side from Highway 69. (It's not Dylan, obviously, more straightforward, for one thing). Then Josh joined Adam (C!C!'s singer) for a rendition of long black veil. They duetted, back and forth, which was great. Josh's voice is a little nasally, in a good Colin Meloy way, and when Adam needs to be a powerful singer he sings from the back of his throat (I think), and the contrast was really fun.
C!C! played some newer, unrecorded stuff, and stuff from the album. Once I got over trying to find the electric guitar I was able to enjoy their acoustic versions. It's nice, because they vary the songs up enough that it's never boring.
Josh Folmar arrived on stage. He played his song "Devil's Highway," first, by himself, quiet, the kind of singing you do all by yourself in room, half praying someone will hear you and hoping no one ever does. Then, C!C! kicked in backing him up and "Devil's Highway" exploded, a yell, a resigned help me going down with a fight. And it's one hell of a fight. If the narrator's life is falling apart at least the song remains, too real to quit.
And then he played Tuscaloosa Blues and that was pretty great, too.
So what made the show so great was all these different artists working together so seamlessly. C!C! became a great backing band not once but twice, both times graciously ceding the spotlight. It wasn't a night of egos on parade. It was just a couple of musicians who thought working together might produce something really cool to show anyone who cared to show up.
That's what's great about local music. When it works it works like it did Thursday, all these insanely talented artists working together to produce something amazing. When it fails it's a big fish in a little pond pissing contest. But when it works, it's brilliant.

There's something really, truly chilling about the ending of "A Good Man is Hard to Find," isn't there? Almost like that moment, at the beginning of "Nebraska" where Springsteen sings "Mister, I guess there's just a meanness in this world." The criminal, the misfit who is seems almost uncomprehendingly amoral. "Nome," says the Misfit, "I ain't a good man." He isn't. But neither, as he says, is he the worst in the world, either. Those, surely, must be his companions, the ones who take joy in murder. There is no joy in murder for the Misfit.
I think he may be amoral as opposed to actually evil because he is the Misfit. He doesn't fit in. He doesn't quite seem to know what he's done. When he does evil he seems confused by it. I think his companions are evil. No benefit comes from their killings. When the Misfit kills, he is an instrument of grace - that is, he affords the woman to extend grace. If the old woman becomes truly good, truly Christian, by imitating Christ by extending grace, saying that the Misfit is one of her children, then the Misfit is the sin of the world, the opportunity for grace, the Fortunate Fall, the Fall that leads to redemption. The Misfit seems to somehow know his part, too. The murder gives him no pleasure. His companions enjoy the killing; the instrument of grace does not.

Anyway, Sufjan Stevens has a song called "A Good Man is Hard to Find." It gives me chills every time.

Iggy Pop madlibs

"Yeah, so it was (insert year) and I was doing (insert drug) and I was with (famous person) and I called (insert other famous person) and I told them (insert something obscene) and then I pooped in the bushes and passed out and (insert famous person or band mate) carried me to (insert location, probably sandbox in playground)."

ALL HIS INTERVIEWS ARE LIKE THIS

I was listening to Tarkio the other day. I haven't done that for a while. They're not bad; not great, either, but a solid country/folk effort. I listen to it for the same reason I (unashamedly) watch "Mean Girls" every time it's on TV: it contains the seeds of the later project. Tarkio contains the seeds of Meloy's future preoccupations as leader of the Decemberists. We get the lit references - Camus, Tristan and Iseult - and the interest in folk balladry. Tarkio isn't quite as lyrically courageous, to borrow a phrase from some reviewer, I forget who (sorry unknown soldier). Meloy's lyrics aren't quite as strong in Tarkio, and so tend to sink below the music - but then, the music isn't quite strong or unique enough to stand on its own. Nothing terribly special. Most are over-long, and after a while tend to blend together. There are flashes of brilliance (and I mean that in the shining, sparkly visual sense). My personal favorite is "Neapolitan Bridesmaid." It's definitely not required listening for any who's not a Decemberists nut. Since I have the misfortune to part of that strange sub-species of human, well...

There's a joy in rediscovering music, gaining enough space that the familiarity is lost and the possibility of newness is regained. That's how it felt to listen to Tarkio. It had been long enough that I had forgotten. The violins thrilled again. The nuisance felt was minimized, not maximized through over familiarity.

I felt that way about a few things lately. Sufjan Stevens, seeing a snatch of his lyrics quoted out of context. The Mountain Goats, hearing one of their songs on "Weeds." I love it.

So, what is it about revisionist history? Historical characters acting very un-historical tickles my funny bone. History seems so serious when you learn about it. To imagine historical figures acting kinda like your slacker cousin (you know, the one who huffs Elmer's) flips it around - gives you that sudden realization that is humor, I guess.
Also, it's a comic about history, so you can feel superior to people who don't get it. Philistines!
http://harkavagrant.com/

Listening to a Drive By Truckers album is like looking at a faded, time tarnished photograph - a photo of your grandparent's wedding, perhaps.

You guys are gonna do the right thing and buy a copy of Sasprilluh Champagne, right? It's on iTunes, but Oz music probably would like the support, too.

That skull had a tongue in it and could sing once.
How the knave jowls it to the ground, as if't were Cain's
jawbone, that did the first murther! This might be the pate of
a politician which this ass now o'erreaches, one that would cir-
cumvent God, might it not?

Sometimes things are summed up so nicely I really don't have to say anything.

http://www.harkavagrant.com/index.php?id=140

I'm so proud

USA! USA! USA! USA!

etc etc