Maybe it was because it was Leap Year Day, but regardless of the justification, hell froze over and I recorded a mathcaddy radio session. This edition features a number of songs I’ve been waiting for quite a while to play… easy to say, considering that there hasn’t been a show in, oh… uh, two and a half years!
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“Don’t leave,” I said to Steve and Krishanu. “If the house lights are still down, the band will be back.” When the Mountain Goats walked back out, it felt good to be right but it felt even better to hear John Darnielle and his fellow Goats burst into the song I couldn’t wait to hear: “This Year”.
Just after taking the stage for the encore, John ran back off, saying, “I gotta go bring on my man Ben for this one” and returning with Death Cab for Cutie’s Ben Gibbard who sang harmony, which was a nice surprise. I had thought the stubbled guy in glasses standing in the doorway of the stage exit for most of the show looked a bit familiar…
As they played, I had to smile when Darnielle leaned away from the mic and into the audience, prompting us to shout, “there will be feasting and dancing in Jerusalem next year!” My wife Kristi doesn’t remember or love many lyrics, but that’s one of the rare lines she was quoting to me last week as I played Mountain Goats non-stop in joyous anticipation of this show.
While I was most looking forward to hearing “This Year”, my favorite song of the night was “Hast Thou Considered the Tetrapod”, surprising to me as it hadn’t previously been a track I cared a great deal about.
John introduced the song saying, “This is a song about finding hope in the tiniest and simplest of things in the middle of the darkest of moments. The level of emotional intensity in his voice and the tympani mallets rumbling on the toms locked me in. When the show was over, I got back in my car and immediately dug through the glove box for my iPod and dialed the rating of this song from two stars up to five. Check it out:
Opening for the Mountain Goats was Jeffrey Lewis and the Jitters (which I inaccurately remembered at first as “Jeff Jared and the Jiggles”). Steve thought Jeff sounded a lot like the guy from the Moldy Peaches and I agreed. There is some connection between the groups and their styles are similar, though Jeffrey was indeed quite unique and highly entertaining as well.
One of the most enjoyable elements of his band’s show was his integrated “lo-fi music videos” which were scanned in illustrations accompanying a couple of absurd storytelling songs. From our location, I wasn’t able to see the first but moved to see the second, which was brilliantly bizarre.”Creeping Brain” tells of a disembodied swamp-bred brain that begins eating things and growing smarter as it does, eventually hotwiring a car into town and consuming whole cities. After its initial wave of destruction, the now enormous brain calls a press conference and extends peace to the world and offers its wisdom to mankind.
The lively illustrations were accompanied by a descriptive verse and the hilariously recurring line “creeping brain, creeping brain!” As silly as it was, it was very catchy, well demonstrated by the fact that it keeps tumbling around in my mind as I drive. “Creeping brain, creeping brain!”
Between the shows, I asked Jeffrey if he had recorded “Creeping Brain” and he said they hadn’t in any released form. He said occasionally they put up a demo of it on their myspace page, so I’ll have to keep a lookout for it. The accompanying drawings make the song wonderfully fun. Here’s a video of his performance of the song before scanning in the drawings and upgrading to a projector, as he did at the show we attended:
Browsing Jeff’s site, I came upon some of his illustration work. I have to say his sense of humor is right up my alley: totally random. Check out some of Jeffrey’s weirdly funny “nonsensical drawings” (as he calls them): [1] [2] [3] [4]
Seeing that it’s been awhile since I last posted, I have quite a backlog of great music to share. I love our small but unique music scene here in southeastern Washington and enjoy promoting local artists, one of my favorites being Aaron Schroeder.
Aaron’s second album, Black & Gold, is musically deep, involving a variety of musicians and instruments with incredibly textured songs.
Maybe it’s because its sporadic and cheery “tink-tink-tink” brings joy to my xylophile heart or it could be the ever-so-addicting “That Thing You Do!“-like rhythm pounded out in the background, but Black & Gold’s lead-off track, “What We Don’t Know”, is without question worth a repeated listen.
The Silver Jews’ “Tennessee” is, without question, the perfect postmodern country song.
One second, David Berman’s poke-along baritone drawl is the most heartfelt you’ve ever heard. The next minute he’s borrowing Johnny Cash’s larynx, his lyrics boldly staring you in the face. Pretty soon his cynical side shows through. And then suddenly, he knocks you down in hilarity with a line like this one:
“Punk Rock died when the first kid said, “Punk’s not dead… Punk’s not… dead.”
“Tennessee” combines equal parts sincerity, cynicism, and bone dry deadpan wit with a voice that Johnny Cash’s family must be collecting royalties on.
“Marry me, leave Kentucky, and come to Tennessee,” sings Berman, “’cause you’re the only ‘ten’ I see.” To which his girlfriend, Cassie Marrett, sings back, “I’ve looked through offices and honkytonks for a man man enough to be Mr. ‘Mrs. Tennessee.’”
This track’s lyrics, its instrumentation, and, of course, Berman’s voice helped it quickly rise to the top of a recent roadtrip playlist of music on my iPod I hadn’t listened to much, but the song is so unique and interesting in its style, I just had to share it with you.
Yes, you. The person behind the keyboard on the other side of this screen.
My friend Evan Gross is one of the most naturally gifted songwriters I know, so when he emailed me a few of his latest songs, a grin snuck its way out of my teeth and hung itself between my ears, just beneath my nose. (This is where smiles go. They are not to be kept elsewhere.)
When I opened my email, I didn’t know that a couple of these new songs would quickly join the short list of highly elite “five-star” tracks in my iPod. I actually wish I could rate one particular song, “Go West” a six as it rose to the top. (Although his song, “Let Go” is phenomenal and “Your Scent” is fairly incredible, too.)
Last week, I listened to Evan’s three new songs all the way to Portland and back (a total of over eight hours of driving) and I’ve been listening to them ever since. But in the words of LaVar Burton, “You don’t have to take my word for it.” Charlie, the hitchhiker who rode with me for 100 miles asked for me to play them over and over and over.
After finally hearing from all five of our regular listeners that we should do another show, Steve and I jammed out a not-so-quick radio session. This one did not involve poking any eyes out, thank goodness!
We did not have our regularly scheduled mic stands, so we had to make do with the most ridiculous looking setup imaginable. (See figure 1, below.)
Figure 1, above
And……. Woo! “Interviews With Furniture” hits an all-time low! Really! Not. Funny. Ever. We need a new schtick.
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Have you ever noticed how drummers make or break a live band?
Maybe you haven’t. Perhaps you’re completely oblivious or just too busy swooning for the crooners. (What the heck is a crooner, anyway? For some reason, I imagine it is someone wearing a coonskin cap while combing their hair.)
Regardless of whether you have or haven’t noticed, drummers make a big difference in a band’s live performance. The better their rhythm, the tighter the sound. The greater their energy, the more life the band’s performance has, even during slower songs. A singer may communicate a song’s message, but the drummer communicates the emotion behind it.
This was well demonstrated by one band I recently had the chance to see, Death Cab for Cutie’s opener, Youth Group.
It is more than unfortunate that drummer Danny Allen’s sensational beats don’t leap out of headphones and punch you in the face the way they do live.
I read about this band and their album about a year ago. I gave it a listen online and wasn’t thrilled or disappointed. Judging strictly from their album, Youth Group is the kind of band that seems pretty typical and uninteresting on a first listen.
But listening to them live, with each strike of the bass drum, every crack of the snare and run down the toms, Allen let Australia’s best kept secret out of the box to the thousands of folks packed into Whitman College’s auditorium that Wednesday night.
It is more than unfortunate that drummer Danny Allen’s sensational beats don’t leap out of headphones and punch you in the face the way they do live.
Youth Group is one band that, seen in the flesh, you can’t help but love — mostly because of Allen’s fantastic ability to turn a drumbeat into magic.
Check out their song “Shadowland” below — but I strongly suggest listening to it on a large stereo with the low end dialed to 11 so as to best experience that “almost live” feel. The iPod just won’t cut it, thanks to mixing that does little to bring Allen’s drumming out of the background and into your heart where it belongs.
At Ray’s Golden Lion in Richland on this special night, I got the chance to hear my cell phone ring blast through a full PA system.
Since first hearing the Crystals Skulls’ “Airport Motels,” I have been using this song as the ringtone in my piece of crap Motorola v551 because of its energetic opening guitar riff. (If you’re interested, the song is featured in mathcaddy radio session #15.)
Crystal Skulls guitarist Ryan Philips, a fellow Tri-Citizen, is one heck of a player. If you’ve heard the album (unique, jazzy light rock with lounge singer vocals) you’ll certainly agree that Ryan has some skill. In person, at two feet away, it’s far more impressive.
The show had some interesting moments: I was distracted for a moment as the band started to play “Airport Motels” and I thought that my cell phone really was going off. And when the band invited anyone interested to come up on stage and dance with the band, a very crazy guy did just that. He was quite entertaining, especially with his Hammer pants. He had some quite serious funk in his groove.
Another item of interest from the show was the drummer. The band duplicated their album’s jazz-rock tight-but-relaxed kind of sound perfectly, mostly with his help. His rhythm was perfect and after about 10 minutes, my cousin Steve pointed out why: he was wearing headphones and listening to an iPod, which he cued up at the start of each song.
It seems he was playing the band’s album on his iPod in order to keep perfect rhythm. Talking with him after the show, he confirmed Steve’s guess.
Steve wrote quite a lot more about more the show here. (In a more timely fashion, of course.)
Monday is my day off. I usually don’t use it very well… at all.
Take last Monday, for instance. As I started out the day, I had five things I wanted to get done– all of them for sheer enjoyment’s sake. I wanted to (1) watch a video of my cousin Steve teaching, (2) read part of a couple books, (3) listen to some new music, (4) learn a new song on my guitar, and, most importantly, (5) something else I can’t remember because it’s not that important right now.
Yes, those all sound like wonderful things to do on a lazy day off while my wife is off at school and I’m sitting around the house wearing pajama pants and a funny t-shirt that I am the only one laughing at.
But I didn’t do any of them.
So what did I do instead?!
I played the brand new FIFA 2006 on my Xbox. All day. It was an amazing accomplishment, when I think about it. It’s been a long time since I played video games regularly and it’s been ages since I actually went on a binge.
So, today, instead of frittering away the hours trying to set up the perfect cross from Rooney to Ruud, I am going to work today on finishing what I’ve started, as I have scattered around the house and various “drafts” folders piles of unfinished business.
Maybe it was because it was Leap Year Day, but regardless of the justification, hell froze over and I recorded a mathcaddy radio session. This edition features a number of songs I’ve been waiting for quite a while to play… easy to say, considering that there hasn’t been a show in, oh… uh, two and a half years!
“Don’t leave,” I said to Steve and Krishanu. “If the house lights are still down, the band will be back.” When the Mountain Goats walked back out, it felt good to be right but it felt even better to hear John Darnielle and his fellow Goats burst into the song I couldn’t wait to hear: “This Year”.
Seeing that it’s been awhile since I last posted, I have quite a backlog of great music to share. I love our small but unique music scene here in southeastern Washington and enjoy promoting local artists, one of my favorites being 
Monday is my day off. I usually don’t use it very well… at all.