no time but the meantime

I just have a second...

Helmet had two indie releases Strap it On and the collected singles Born Annoying before unleashing a post-Nirvana hard rock slab for Interscope called Meantime. It was metal for uptight jazz fans. The 1994 follow-up Betty was not as critically well-received... but I think letting a little air in was good for Page and the boys.

Tonight's track, I Know, contains two excellent and underused euphemisms for masturbation: Shine the Baptist and De-bark the Log. Listen for 'em.


I Know

Hello, I love you, won't you tell me your name...

So I made it through last week... wasn't that hard... busy... good.

Having listened to the little yahoo desktop widget that whispers the upcoming weather to me I knew that the wind was gonna blow, hard, all weekend. I guarded against the cold by stocking up on movies, soup and alcohol (just a little wine, nothing to worry about). Saturday night I was sitting peacefully in my 30 year old LA-Z-BOY (the one my dad won at bingo, or a raffle, or something illegal) with cathode rays hypmotizing me into a stupor and it flitted across my brain: I didn't have any insane people ranting at me in the store all week!!!! While that diminishes my blogable occurances, it certainly is easier on the head. However... moments later my phone rang and...

Me: Hello?

He: Heeeey dude!!! How's it going? What's up?

Me: [not recognizing the voice right off] Ah, not much, not much, just hanging out, taking it easy.

He: Heeeey man... that's good, that's good. You doing anything later?

Me: [still not recognizing the voice... but the voice seems to be recognizing me, so...] I don't think so. It's pretty crappy out. Think I'm in for the night.

He: Duuude!! We should go out. We should drink.

Me: [definitely not recognizing the voice...] Ah, who was it you were calling for?

He: You man!!! You!

Me: No, who do you think this is? Who do you THINK you're talking to?

He: Samuel, man!! You!!!

Me: Ah, no... no... I'm, not Samuel, sorry... think you dialed the wrong number.

He: Oh man!! Well... hey, are YOU drinking right now?

Me: ...ah, no, not at the moment.

He: But... DO you drink, man?

Me: Well, yeah, but not right now... don't you think...

He: Smoke, man!!! Do you smoke!!!

Me: Not for a long time.

He: Ah, man. You SHOULD smoke!!! WE should smoke... TONIGHT!!!

Me: But I don't...

He: Man, I'm so high right now...

Me: That's obvious... the phone seems to be giving you trouble. Don't you think you should try to get ahold of Samuel?

He: Oh, yeah, right, man.

Me: 'Kay. Bye.

----

Tonight's track is from Damien Jurado. A Pacific Northwesterner with a knack for writing songs that sound like the best, darkest and most melancholy of Bruce Springsteen's back catalogue. Like most of my eventual favourites I came across his first album, Waters Ave S., by accident, receiving a playcopy of it from our Sub Pop rep at the time, France.

France was excellent to talk to on the phone... she was enthusiastic about the music, flustered by the amount of work stretched out in front of her... literally from the description of boxes of promo crap stacked in her little apartment. My mental picture of her was a young Jaime Lee Curtis with long hair tied back, hunched over a computer on her living room coffee table... a cat walking over the keyboard... a rubber tree in the corner butting against a chinese lantern... and stale cigarette smoke masked with just-past-useful air freshner.

But, anyway... Waters Ave S was low key, mid-tempo electric/acoustic affair with Jurado's mumbled monotone vocals somehow managing to make everything compelling. It was followed by the old-timey-er, and spookier, The Ghost of David, the title of which referring to a dream Jurado had about David Bazan... his pal and leader of Pedro the Lion. I Break Chairs came out in 2002 and featured band billing for Damien Jurado and Gathered in Song. It was more balls-out in places, but maintained the Darkness at the Edge of Town vibe from the first two albums. There's been a few releases since this one, but a favourite track of mine is Like Titanic from this album. The constant undertone of feedback drone and celeste plinking bang home the innocence and experience duality of the song. Enjoy.


Like Titanic

pitchers

Bonus Blog!!!

I was perusing a few music blogs and noticed that a Boston blogger had gone to see Sigur Ros at The Orpheum, the show the night after the one Mandy and I saw in Portland. He, unlike us, got some photos, so I thought I'd post them as they capture pretty well what our [visual] experience was.





Thanks to I Guess I'm Floating.

I don't do too much talking...

Investment Opportunity #1

SONNY JAMES TEETH WHITENING PROCESS




There's enough to go around for everyone.

Today's track is from that Siren of the Teutons, Nico. Chelsea Girl came out nearly 40 years ago, the same year she recorded with The Velvet Underground. Songs from her album were written by Jackson Browne and others. Not until the following few years did she start writing most of her own material... notably on the John Cale produced Marble Index (1968) and Desertshore (1970). Those albums hold up against the wild women of today... i.e. Joanna Newsom... for pure otherworldliness. The track I've picked today is featured in The Royal Tenenbaums. It plays as Gwyneth Paltrow arrives (in slow motion) to greet Luke Wilson who has realized he's in love with her (despite being her half-brother). It's a scene that makes me fall for Gwyneth a little... until I remember she married the doofus from Coldplay. Apple my ass.


These Days

The Boy with the Thorn is His Side

Mes amis!!!

I've been logging in some time over on the Backstreet blog the past couple of nights. If you go over there it'll more than make up for the lack of "track a day" action as there is an hour long .mp3 mix called
I Can't Stress This Enough!!!. In addition you'll find notes on what's recently made it's way onto the store's shelves.

I've come to wonder, since I've been posting my clever little stories of the daily twilight zonish 'appenings at the store, if there's been an increase in the level of public insanity or if it just seems that way 'coz I'm remarking of it.

This past Saturday one of "my people," as I like to think of them came in as I was racking some recent used vinyl arrivals. So you picture this 6+ foot man with a ball cap and dirty blonde hair with a wadded up leather jacket under his arm... oh and with a voice halfway between Randy Machoman Savage and The Cookie Monster.

Him: You don't know anyone who'd be looking to buy a vintage WWII leather bomber jacket. would you?

Me: Ah... no, no. We don't deal in clothes and, ah... I don't know of any vintage clothing stores in the area.

Him: This coat is over 50 years old and [flipping it inside out to display the lining] it's been taken care of. It was worn by an aviator... you can tell by this material.

Me: Oh. Well... I'm sure someone would be interested in it... but most clothes around town seems to either end up in the Salvation Army or maybe sold through auction houses...

Him: No. No. I'm not in a position to auction anything [???].

Me: OK? Well, good luck with finding someone for it.

Him: I just thought that, where you sell used stuff you might know... you know... and where I buy a lot of stuff here [first time I've seen the man]... because I'm a fan of the old stuff, like the Creedence and the Revival and Bob Seger... the older Bob Seger stuff like [he starts naming albums but I've stopped listening, preferring to let a fine glaze slide over me... carrying my consciousness far, far away... but then...] I did a lot of Bob Seger songs at karaoke nights at The North Star... and I made it to the finals, but this other guy beat me with a Fleetwood Mac song. Just as well, the regional final were in Moncton and I can't even swear in french.

Me:

Him: OK. Thanks.

I've been thinking lately about this strange duality:
Being a fan of "indie rock" brings with it a certain attitude of pride for being loose from the machinery of rock marketing... that is to say being a fan of a band because a magazine ad/radio station/video channel is co-opted into oversaturating a profile, making it seem incontrovertible that "X" is the biggest best band in the land. Indie bands seem to grow organically and/or virally with whatever actual or electronic equivalent "word of mouth" is spread, usually beneath the radar of mainstream media. That is good. Yes.

However, on the other hand, there seems to be a short, short, short attention span for the very brief history of "indie rock" (if you place it's roots in the late 80s/early 90s). New grassroots acts spring up monthly, seemingly displacing into obscurity artist from a couple of years previous. Does this amount to a "no heroes" mentality fostered within the fandom of the underground... or is it plain old media oversaturation on all of these new playing fields (internet/web radio/music blogs) that, instead of concretizing a bands rep, pushes aside today's successes to make room for "the next little big thing."

Mostly I wonder why people who are "huge fans" of Arcade Fire don't know who people like J Mascis are. Today's track is from this once and still guitarist for Dinosaur Jr. who broke big in indie's first wave with albums on Homestead and SST... the first three of which were recently re-issued on Merge Records, home of the aforementioned Fire. This track is from a solo live acoustic album called Martin and Me, and it is a cover of The Smiths, another groundbreaking outfit from the 80s and 90s. Enjoy.


The Boy with the Thorn in His Side

Just a drink?

Hola!

Nothing much to report. Went to the Back Nine at the behest of JB last night... found out that renovations=high prices (appetizers? or financial investments?). And $7.25 for a glass of Stella Artois? I'll be drinking alone at home, thank you. Sure there'll be a few tears... but the neighbours don't mind.

Here's a quote from an interview w/ David Cronenberg (Uncut Jan06/pg80):

Cronenberg: We no longer are physically responding genetically to pressures of the environment. That has completely derailed the mechanisms Darwin outlined....

Interviewer: But the primal impulses remain?

Cronenberg: The primal impulses remain, and that's the paradox.

Here's something you should try if you like music and not thinking too hard: Pandora

Finally today's track is from David Grubbs. He is probably best known as half of w/ Jim O'Rourke, but he's been involved with a number of underheard yet influential bands... starting with Squirrel Bait, a youthful hardcore band whose membership also included 2 future members of Slint. He moved on to Bastro with SB bassist Clark Johnson and help from future Tortoise member and Chicago producer John McIntire. He has eight solo records since Gastr Del Sol's split... they polarize between avant-gardist minimalist composition and more song-based, folk style recordings. This track is from his 2000 offering The Spectrum Between


Seagull and Eagull

Land of Ports

Back.

Was back yesterday... but the old skull sponge was only receiving blurred signals, not in any kind of shape to output anything.

Mandy and I rented a car for our excursion since hers had an extreme case of heartburn. We got off early out of Woodstock and had breakfast at the Denny's in Bangor. Our waitress' name was Sunshine. Diner food is cheap in Maine. Plus you can get stuff like country fried steak (essentially battered beef) with biscuits and gravy, two eggs and a stack of pancakes... for $5.99!!! I couldn't bring myself to risk the possible cardiac arrest/gastrointestinal meltdown that kind of excess would bring, so I stuck to the Pepperjack Scramble with hashbrowns and a short stack.

Portland was great. Had never been before. The only downside to visiting cool little towns is the invariable, "Why don't we have ______ in Fredericton?" questions. Like, "Why don't we have... a dozen cool little coffee shops? ...a choice of Thai restaurants? ...a converted theatre that brings in current touring bands instead of Pink Floyd karaoke?"

Sigur Ros were phenomenal. It was rush seating (the show was in a venue called the State Theatre, which, despite its name, didn't feature assigned tickets... mainly because its main floor has the front two rakes of seats yanked out to make room to stand at the stage's edge) so we stood in line for a little under an hour to get good seats. The temperature dropped to torment us but it was worth it. A helpful soul told us the best course of action was to head straight for the balcony... which we did and scored front row seats. If you've ever been to Memorial Hall in Fredericton the distance from the balcony to the stage was only slight greater at The State.

The unbilled openers were a quartet of Icelandic ladies called Amina. They played as a string quartet (three violins and a cello) before scattering out to various posts across the stage to play everything laptop and marimba to water glasses and admission bells. A scrim was drawn across the stage front during the turnover and when Sigur Ros began (playing the intro and first track from Takk...) they played behind the sheeting which served as a projection screen from the front and a screen for silhouettes of the band thrown by the backlighting.

Their entire set was material from Takk... which might've been a little disappoointing had the performance not been so intense. All four members played different instruments and Amina returned to the stage after the first few pieces to further flesh out the sound... which was simultaneously delicate and intense. The sound in the Theatre was just perfect... enormous, but not overwhelming or distorted. The sold out crowd brought them back out for an encore, the second half of which was played once again from behind the scrim with a build to a crescendo as tumultuous, terrifying and beautiful as anything I could've hoped to hear.

The rest of the night was dinner and the drive back (to return the rental) punctuated by some breaks to sleep in shopping mall and truck stop parking lots. If you're going to see America... do it right I say.

Today's track is from Amina's four track e.p. called Animamina they were selling at the show.


Hemipode

Bonus Blog

Since I'm going to be away on Monday, thought I'd provide you with a bonus weekend blog. Thoughtful, no?

I'm kinda behind (esp. since the hot turkey sandwich I scarfed at the Zellers seems to be running through me like a grease free range... er... turkey) so I'll skip ahead to today's track(s)... now featuring bonus track!!!

First up is a track from Sigur Ros' most recent release Takk... As you read this, probably I'm either on my way to or in Portland, ME getting ready to see them. This is their current single.


Hoppipola

Up next is a track from the upcoming Mogwai album called Mr. Beast due out on March 7th. The album is killer killer killer.


Folk Death 95

Caughwrf

I've got a headache right here:

...and pains and aches in places too awkward to photograph. I don't want to do anything... not even this. But it still feels good to be alive.

I'm going to see Sigur Ros in Portland on Monday night with Mandy... I just had a pretty good bowl of soup (Beef Barley) and I posted a new edition of Surgery on my radio blog. You can listen by clicking this.

But now my energy is gone. Time only for today's track. This time it's a preview. Julie Doiron has been the most prolific alumni of Eric's Trip. During their post-break-up decade (almost) she's released 6 solo albums... with a 7th on the way later this fall. This time around she's joined by the three other members of her former band... but don't call it a reunion. The album is as yet untitled, but will be released on Endearing in Canada and Jagjaguwar in the U.S. This track is an unmastered demo.



No More

Hot for... bank teller??

There's something about a woman in uniform. How else to explain the seeming proliferation of websites/Yahoo groups/etc. dedicated to female news anchors and weathergirls... er... Gender non-specific Meteorologists (who are hot). These women seldom dress provocatively, often are only seen from the chest up, and usually only from one camera angle. Yet apparent teams of shut-ins with Tivo hooked up to laptops spend hours making grainy screen grabs and putting them up to share with fellow meals-on-wheels recipients.

And bless their obsessions.

Some of the slightly less single-minded among us have fallen into the WIU (woman in uniform) undertow. How else explain the raptures and adorations heaped upon Gillian Anderson during her stint as Scully on The X-Files. Chris Carter, the show's creator, seemed to have tapped into a dormant gene in male viewers that reacted to a "less-is-more" trigger. True, Sci-fi fans have a certain affinity for uniforms... but even on the flagship Star Trek series the female uniforms were essentially go-go dresses and all the alien women were swathed in togas and bathed in soft-focus lighting.

The current crop of CSI/FBI/CIA shows perhaps owe their success to this template as well. Or maybe I'm thinking about Without a Trace's Poppy Montgomery too much. But if your name is Poppy I'll think about you too. Promise.

In the meantime today's track is from the 1996 musical tribute to The X-Files, Songs in the Key of X. It's a compilation that collects seemingly disparate artists like Sheryl Crow, Nick Cave and Danzig... yet somehow manages to sound cohesive. Some versions of the CD sported nifty-keen hidden tracks you could only get to if you pressed stop as soon as the disc started then backed up to before Track 1! If you did you were treated to Dirty Three's rendition of the theme song.

One standout track was by The Foo Fighters, not especially a favourite band, however they do a slightly muscled-up version of Gary Numan's Down in the Park... a track that appeared on his 1979 album Replicas.



Foo Fighters-Down in the Park