Anatomy of a leak.

I'll try to explain this whole "Naked Ragun leak" thing, step by step, later today ... maybe if I have a few spare minutes during lunch. Screw it. It is what it is, and like Photogal said, "You're letting this get to you too much." So I'm just going to leave it with what I've already written.

However, in the meantime, while everyone is blaming me for not being able to get into a show that was basically "guest list only" from the outset, ask yourself a few things:

1. If it was so secret, how did I hear about it from a large number of folks, both connected to, not connected to, and actually employed by the bar, ahead of time?
2. If it was so secret, why did Cobra Lounge leak the information via MySpace before I did?
3. I've heard some of the staff at Cobra was trying to blame me for the crowd at the show last night. (Though this is second-hand, and therefore suspect information.) I don't know if anyone noticed, but this week Cobra has a slew of shows intended to raise their profile as a music venue. If you think the bar is upset about all the publicity, you are solely mistaken. If you have any doubts about how this whole thing was engineered from the beginning, ask yourself why certain people were gifted with +5s without even asking while fans were left out in the cold. It was no mistake that the show was so "exclusive" so don't blame me for not getting in.
4. How am I to blame for you not getting in again? This was fair game for promotion. I don't tip my hat to just any news. (For instance, I'm not going to tell you any unannounced Halloween secrets about the Double Door show, because that would a) ruin the surprise and b) isn't really newsworthy since the shows are going to sell out anyway. They don't need the publicity. However a struggling bar on the near South side certainly does need a bit of notoriety, don't you think?
   

And, for the record, I didn't get in either. However I hear there are plenty of tickets available for RiotFest 2006, so if you REALLY want to see the band, do what everyone else is and buy a frickin' ticket.

UM, Hi Gaper's Block people: I have no idea why they linked to this, but, as you can see above, I don't whine about not getting into the show. I'm just annoyed people are trying to blame me for not getting in. Plus, it's not like I was the only one who mentioned it. Plus, here's my original show preview, and then the follow up. The funniest part about the whole affair? I had actually been pimping the show due to Mojica's appearance on the bill earlier in the week without having the faintest clue Naked Raygun was going to be on the bill. No one copmplained about that...

Tankboy is having a very bad day.

So consider this my decompression scream.

Ennui.

I’m not DJing on Tuesdays for the next two weeks, and I'm welcoming the break. I love DJing each week ... I just LOVE it. I honestly don’t know what I'd do if I didn't have that outlet. That said, I've been spinning somewhere in Wicker Park, with a break only here and there once in a great while, for over seven years now, and that's a little draining.

I think it shows, too. My sets have gone from being iron-clad crowd pleasers, to head-scratching self-indulgments, and have recently settled somewhere in-between in a land where The Killers, Phil Collins, Uncle Tupelo, My Chemical Romance and Beyoncé are each just as culturally significant as the other.

One thing a DJ is paid to do is entertain and, hopefully, enlighten in-between the sure-fire hits. I think I do a more than passable job on this front, otherwise I wouldn’t get gigs. Duh. But as I've switched from records and tape manipulation, to CDs, and now, finally, to mp3s / m4as, I've noticed the process of song selection has changed. You see, when you have a crate of records / rack of tapes / book of CDs there is a primal, physical connection to the music as you flip through physical-space-occupying slabs of vinyl / loops of magnetic tape / aluminum (or 24K gold if it's one of those audiophile traps deployed in the '80s). If you, like I did, group albums / CDs by genre this actually helps create connections from one song to another. When you scroll through an iPod, though, this facet is sorely lacking and selection depends more on brain power, and by the end of the night, after a few too many drinky-drinks, brain power is often less than optimal.

Basically, as the physical act of lugging around source music has shrunk to the size of a pack of playing cards, the mental portion of the task has grown more demanding. I think it's too late to really turn back, and I just need to continue to adapt, but at the same time it’s nice to take a break every once in a while to regroup, recoup and refine the ol' inner playlist.

__________
Ennui deux.

We saw The Killers Tuesday night. Halfway through the show, Photogal’s sister leaned over and asked me, "Don't they ever move?" I pointed out that the "My Name Is Earl" look-alike behind the drum kit was pretty animated, and that singer Brandon Flowers was actually far more mobile than he was in the past, but, for the most part, no, they didn't really move much.

The show was what you would expect, with a healthy dose of new material with a few proven crowd-pleasers sprinkled throughout. It was pretty obvious the sold-out crowd had barely paid attention to the new disc since conversation blossomed during those portions of the evening. Folks went bat-shit for the oldies though, and at forty buck a ticket pre-TicketBastard, that's what they were paying for. Also, suburbanites attending city shows should really look beyond "The OC" for suggestions of hip urban-wear. Double also, teeny blondes in pointy shows do not stir my pants, but they do upset my stomach. Triple also, I haven't seen so many dudes at a rockshow in, like, forever. It reminded me why I avoid these big label, promo events. Unless it's Green Day ... that small club tour fucking killed.

Anyway, The Killers. Like I said, the show was exactly what you would expect, no more, no less. I still maintain that Sam's Town has been unfairly maligned in the press, but a portion of the blame must be attributed to Flowers for mentioning the group had been listening to a lot of Springsteen. While the album sounds NOTHING LIKE Springsteen, lazy journos the world over have latched onto that lens and it’s the only way they’re viewing said disc's content.

I've decided to pot the opening track from Sam's Town because I think it handily highlights all that is right, and all that goes wrong, within the album. If you like portions of, or all, of the song, by all means buy the album. However if everything within the tunes hits you as wrong-minded and off the mark, Sam's Town is not for you.

I leave it up to you to decide.

The Killers "Sam's Town"
P.S. The pictures of pretty girls on the post have nothing to do with the content, I'm just trying to clean out my hard-drive. Sorry, I don't seem to have any photos of pretty boys or those would have gone up as well...

I heard a rumor.

I sure hope it's true.

A day late and a dollar short.

Yes, this has made the rounds already, but I woke up late and this is all I have time for...

Oh most gracious friends...

I would like to begin my thank you speech by saying "thanks" to all the little people, I couldn't have done it without you.

Next I'd like to thank my girlfriend, who insisted I keep the drinks at the minimum whilst taking in the Lily Allen show last night. Due to her, I loved the show, and I'm up early this morning, and I feel great.

I'd also like to thank Gatorade this morning, You have replenished my system and helped hydrate my dried out, smoked out sinuses.

A quick thanks to Chicagoist as well, for hosting my review of last night's Lily Allen show later this morning here.

Also, a quick shout out to Rachelle for supplying today's most awesome guitar power stance shot.

It has also found a home in today's promotional email for tonight's DJ slot at The Pontiac.

Speaking of which, I'd like to thank The Pontiac ahead of time, for letting me play so much fun music. Also a quick shout out to some of the Windy City Rollers, since I understand there will be a birthday celebration running concurrently with my DJing tonight at The Pontiac.

Oh, I can't forget to thank The Killers for tonight's show as well. I appreciate the band starting on time so I can get to my DJ gig on time. Thanks boys.

And who can forget Pickle the Cat. Who is Pickle? Just wait until tomorrow.

And finally, thank YOU. If it wasn't for you, this site would be a scream in the wilderness, a rock in a pond without a splash, a rewritable CD with no data, a ponytail-tie on a crew-cut.

Thanks.

Popping up where you least expect it.

So, when reading a profile of YouTube, and its self-uploaded content, in The New Yorker, the last person you expect to see pop into the story, completely tangentially, is Crispin Glover.

But there he is!

Seriously, there I am, just working the treadmill, reading a lovely piece about the rise of YouTube (hilariously already outdated, even in this week's issue of The New Yorker, by last week's buyout by Google), and the viewer submitted content, and all of a sudden, in he whooshes as the sidebar to one of the central character studies within the piece.

That dude is unreal.

Pure madness.

This week is just absolutely bonkers schedule-wise, leaving me very little time to breathe, much less write. But write I shall, as things get underway. This morning though? All I want to do is get to the gym since this is one body that will need fortifying if it is to survive the next six days.

So, check out some of the tunes I left for you last week instead of focusing your peepers on my prose. Or, maybe, download this tasty little nugget from the forthcoming domestic release (and year-and-a-half old European offering) from The Robocop Kraus.

The Robocop Kraus "You Don't Have To Shout"

New, this week only (?): The Friday Five!

Don't look for this to become a regular thing or anything, since the last thing I need around here is structure, but I thought it would be fun to kick off the weekend with five tunes I've been enjoying that (for the most part) you probably haven't heard yet.

I've decided to go from quiet beauty to grand noise, so if you feel like playing the songs in the order they're presented prepare yourself for a nice little crescendo. So let's get this going.

Our first selection is from Butterfly Child, Joe Cassidy's pre-Assassins project. The beautiful melodies buried underneath the sonic squall of most of Assassins' tunes comes to the fore in Butterfly Child. I almost think Joe was a little too ahead of his time since this orch-pop stuff didn't really take off until after he had already started to cool the jets on Butterfly Child. He still appears around town in the BC guise from time to time, but those appearances are too few and far between.

Butterfly Child "Drunk On Beauty"
__________

The Mugs are from Brooklyn, but don't hold that against them. They came to my attention when their bassist and I had an email exchange over the calamitous ubiquity of the whole NYC blogger-music publicist circle jerk that seemed to hurt the few bands they championed while ignoring many more just as deserving (if not more so) of attention.

Whatever, story of the world, right?

Anyway, the bassist invited me to check them out when they were in Chicago a few weeks ago and I decided to give the band a look-see. I was pleasantly surprised. I wasn't really knocked out, but I did find their tunes to be enjoyable and just quirky enough to keep my attention. Bonus points were awarded for the bassist's aerobic workout (literally running in place and doing the Ringwald ... you have to see it to believe it) and the singer's adoption of the house piano at The Hideout for a few tunes. Spontaneity always scores high with me, and these jumped into their set with both feet without so much as testing the water.

The Mugs "Frank"
__________

I feel the need for full disclosure at this point, and must let you know the next artist, Eric Metronome, is on the donewaiting affiliated record label, Sunken Treasure Records. Honest, though, that didn't color my perceptions of his debut. To be honest, at times I feel the album veers into territory a little too precious for my tastes, but anyone who likes earlier Elliot Smith will love You Should be Happy.

I've always enjoyed E. Smith, just never really adored him like most.

I'm off topic.

This little tune, "Call It A Day," deserves to become ubiquitous on some quirky car commercial or Nike ad. You may think that sounds more like an insult, or the suggestion of indie sell-out, but to that I say; Can you name me a popular medium in which adventurous and entertaining music is getting broader exposure?

I didn't think so.

(Pssst ... if you happen to be near Columbus, OH this weekend, Mr. Metronome will be playing his actual CD release show tomorrow night at Little Brother's, so check out what the man sounds like in a full rock and/or roll configuration.)

Eric Metronome "Call It A Day"
__________

We're getting noisier, and we're entering a territory, female singers in rock bands, that it's well known I particularly like. The Duke Spirit's Liela Moss has a voice that's gutsy, inhabiting a lower range than most female vocalist's, while still keeping a certain sweetness around the perimeter of her delivery. Her closest think to a yank counterpart would be Erika Wennerstrom of The Heartless Bastards. However, while The Bastards mine a definite Midwestern brand of rock, The Duke Spirit injects a healthy dose of pop into a smear of shoegaze guitars and pounding drums.

Sexy walls of noise with self-assured swagger and sway...

What's not to love?

The Duke Spirit "Cuts Across The Land"
__________

Finally, we have a band that, unlike the previous four, I haven't been able to shut up about lately. I finally saw Earl Greyhound play at Double Door earlier this week and they were just as blisteringly entertaining a live act as I'd hoped they'd be. The one thing the album hints at, but the live show drives home, is that the band's secret weapon is drummer Ricc Sheridan. Sheridan comes across as John Bonham crossed with every drummer Jimi Hendrix ever jammed with.

The dude just fucking slams.

What I hadn't realized until that night, though, is that bassist / vocalist Kamara Thomas is a Chicago native! Had I known that I would have mentioned it in my Chicagoist piece on the band. No matter, listen to "back And Forth" and tell me that it doesn't make you fall in love (if even just a little bit) with Earl Greyhound.

Earl Greyhound "Back And Forth"
__________

And that's it for the week! I've got a pretty quiet weekend planned in advance of next week's hectic beehive of activity (Lily Allen, The Killers, DJing with Chatman, birthdays, art openings, The Changes CD release show, etcetera etcetera) so everyone take it easy with me, throw some headphones on, and let me know what you think of today's tunes.

Wherein I come clean about the whole Ten56 / innjoy / Sweet Alice Tuesday thing.

The owners of innjoy, and previously Ten56, are re-opening the grandmother of both bars, Sweet Alice, at a new location. Lots of people have been asking me what I think about this, since my Tuesday night residency used to be called "Sweet Alice" and migrated from Ten56 to innjoy, until it had the plug abruptly pulled earlier this year. I decided not to go into why the plug was pulled at the time, deciding, rather, to take the high ground. Suffice to say it was not a decision we were consulted on or given warning about. At the same time let me say that I bear no ill will towards the owners of innjoy, since, honestly, innjoy just wasn't a really good fit for what we were doing, and I appreciate the fact we were the only DJs they even tried to bring over once Ten56 closed.

Now, about Sweet Alice. I understand the business decision to employ a name with history and cache to establish a new bar. This makes good business sense. What makes me sad is when people,and by people I'm not talking about the proprietors, think that resurrecting a familiar name will allow them to relive the good times they had at the previous venue.

It just doesn't work that way. Things change, and a name is really nothing more than a brand. For instance, when they re-habbed Danny's, they kept the name, but the place was a completely different bar. When The Note was know as The Blue Note, and it was located on Armitage, it was a completely different place than it is today in its Milwaukee Avenue location. A location it inherited from The Hothouse, which is also quite a different endeavor than it was when it was housed in Wicker Park.

What I'm trying to get to is this: It's impossible for me to be upset about anyone opening up a bar named Sweet Alice, or anyone trying to use the memory of events we were a part of in order to promote the club. Why? The new bar is not Sweet Alice. The new bar is not Ten56 on a Tuesday night. And it shouldn't be, because everyone that was a part of those nights is now different, and if that same chemistry still existed it would actually be kind of sad because it would mean that none of us has grown.

So there you have it. Now you can stop asking me what I think of the whole thing.

__________
I have been seduced.

Lately more and more guest DJs are bringing their iPods and, since I've had a chance to interact with these newer models more frequently,Ii find myself lusting after them. Don't get me wrong, I still find tankPOD's four-buttons hovering over the flywheel to be adorable, and diPOD has a heft that the new models just can't match, but I do find myself drawn in my the new, sleek, black video models. Something tells me that after I finish paying for my new laptop I'm going to be snagging myself a new iPod to add to the family...

Speaking of laptops, I'm happy with my purchase of a Sony VAIO. It's sleek and speedy and spidery and does everything (so far) that I've asked of it with a minimum of fuss. And, really, what more can you ask of a computer?

I do still want a MacBook like the dickens, though -- since I fancy myself the sort that needs something a little smaller and more solid for on-the-go composing -- but the VAIO will do perfectly well until MacBooks either drop down into my price range ... or I win the lottery.

An addendum to the addendum, or,
"What conspiracy theory?

So I've been reading Gothamist's coverage of the small aircraft crash ( and I mean "small aircraft," not "small crash") and this quote stuck out:

Christine Monaco, a New York spokeswoman for FBI, said there wasn't indication of terrorism in the crash, but that officials "have been sent to the scene as a routine."

Not to get all conspiracy theory on all of you, because, again, I really am not that kind of guy, but doesn't it seem weird something like this happens right as the Republican's are having such a tough time? Isn't it an awfully convenient reminder of the ever vigilant front we must keep on the "war on terror?" Doesn't the timing seem, well, just too perfect?

And don't think I haven't noticed that this happens on the one day I go into a political diatribe!

Update from Gothamist: NY Times says "Yankees Pitcher Cory Lidle Was Killed in the Plane Crash, High-Ranking City Official Says." Lidle's passport was found on the street.

Well, it's certainly not a terrorist attack, but I feel terrible for this guy's family. Especially after reading this bit from the New York Times:

A player-pilot is still a sensitive topic for the Yankees, whose captain, Thurman Munson, was killed in the crash of a plane he was flying in 1979. Lidle, acquired from the Philadelphia Phillies on July 30, said his plane was safe.

"The whole plane has a parachute on it," Lidle said. "?Ninety-nine percent of pilots that go up never have engine failure, and the 1 percent that do usually land it. But if you'?re up in the air and something goes wrong, you pull that parachute, and the whole plane goes down slowly."

My sympathies to his family and anyone else harmed by this tragedy.

A brief addendum to this morning's political rant.

Oh, so THAT'S how Republicans do it.

So much for that whole MSM liberal bias, huh?

Aw, poor widdle Georgie...

I am not what one would call a political writer. In the past I have made my thoughts known about some issues so it's pretty fair to say I lean pretty liberally to the Left. I'm mystified by how intractable most folks have seemingly become on every single issue, but I also believe that in a democracy they have a right to their beliefs.

I really do wish people would stop supporting candidates who so obviously do not have their best interests in mind (and the greatest accomplishment of the Rove machine is in their ability to keep fucking folks over and over again, only to have those folks come back and vote for said machine.

Were I a dyed in the wool Democrat -- and believe me, though it may surprise you, I don't -- I would be pissing my pants right now. Why? Because next month's election is their to lose. The Republicans are losing on all fronts; the war on terror isn't making anyone safer, the party of higher moral grounds has been guarding a borderline pedophile in order to hold on to their power, scandals are breaking out left and right ... a changing of the guard is obviously in order.

Here's the problem, though. I don't think they deserve to be elected merely because Republicans are so obviously tarnished and slimy and (c'mon, admit it) veering into territory best described as "evil." All this time the Democratic party -- and you can harp all you want about the two-party system, but it's what we've got -- seems to think that they can adopt a platform that is merely, "Well, we're not Republicans!" and think that's enough.

Hm, well, maybe it is this time. But how fucking depressing is that? Don't you want to vote for someone that stands for something? In the end I know my vote will be going towards any candidate that I believe can reduce the influence of the current party in power and its twisted henchmen at the top, since I truly believe that they have made every single wrong decision they could have possibly made. I consider it an opening salvo; one which I hope the Democrats (if they gain the upper-hand) take advantage of in order to truly change the status quo. I do believe there are folks in politics that view what they do as a public service, and not as a means to leverage power towards generous donors. I do believe in the democratic system. I do believe people can make a difference.

Now all I need is for everyone else to wake up and believe with me.

_________
I can't leave you like that, now can I?

I think I meant to try and veer towards hope near the end of the above thoughts, but just in case I didn't veer far enough towards ye olde hope, here are a few things to lead you out and upward into the sun, instead of burying you trembling in the backyard under the fear.

EXHIBIT A: My friend Lew and his new son, Nolan.


EXHIBIT B: An uplifting little tune.

The Music "Guide"
EXHIBIT C: A simple message.

I love you.

I want to dance with you.

Ah yes, tonight is an evening filled with possibilities. Well, two main possibilities, as far as IÂ?m concerned. As I'm sure everyone on the planet knows by now, tonight is the evening of my weekly residency at The Pontiac. Tonight's special guest DJ is, in fact, truly special. Tonight's guest is Kip from America's #1 Sweetheart which is, as long-time readers are no doubt aware, the band I theoretically play drums with. Now, we haven't actually practiced yet, but that's because Kip has been hunkered down in his underground laboratory for months as he crafts the shining gems that will then be translated into the musical notes and thumping sounds that fill out the A#1S song catalog. Don't ask me how, but I've been able to drag him out of the lab for a rare public appearance and hope to hear him play some of his favorite tunes so I know what's currently influencing him.

Plus, it'll be nice to hear another DJ besides my unironically play some Erasure. I'm holding out hope for The Worm tonight as well.

Possibility number two is coming though town in the form of rock band Earl Greyhound. They hail from the exotic climes of Brooklyn, NYC, NY and make an appearance at Double Door later this evening. A preview of the show that I wrote is scheduled to go live over at Chicagoist later this morning here. I will be sneaking out of The Pontiac for a brief spell to check them out (though I will make Kip recreate his portion of his set that I miss later tonight when we retire to hisheavilyy pillowed Den o' Love) and I encourage you to do the same. Here, I will quote myself from the Chicagoist piece I did:

Earl Greyhound is one of those genre-busting bands that do it without being forced to leap into eccentricity. The trio fashions mega-rocking '70s-style smears of noise that sound fresh and exciting despite some of the retro trappings.

C'mon, doesn't that make you want to go see them?

Speaking of exuberant pieces of music crit publicly peeped recently, I have to give large kudos to Hopzilla for her terrific piece on TV On The Radio that appeared in this weekend's Chicago Tribune. It's nice to finally see a well-written piece by a freelancer appear in that paper.

__________ Hammerhead.

Check out the rough 'n tumble picture of my nephew to the left. Doesn't he look tough with that bruise? Yeah, he does. That bruise sort of reminded me of that time, just after my Senior year of high school I decided toaccidentallyy pound a nail into myfriendn Mike's wall with my forehead. And how I totally thought I was fine until we went over to my friend Dave's house for second opinionstitchese-wise and she turned white, and I realized my eighteen-year run of avoiding needle and thread was over. And the I went to a Midnight Oil concert straight from getting stitches, and people thought I had dyed my hair pinkbecausee I didn't even have time to wash out the blood.

I thought about this while looking at this photo of my nephew and realized that when I / we / everyone was younger, physical trauma was no big thing. Jesus, I put my arm through a window a couple years later and took the time out to make sure myroommatee a) had a video camera (he was taking a film class that summer and the school had lent him one) and b) had charged the battery before I allowed him to take my to the hospital.

I thought about all of this and started to become awfully jealous of my nephew because now, when I, for instance, bruise a shoulder or crack a collarbone, or get any other sort of owie, it seems to take forever to heal.

I'm jealous because he has no idea how good he has it, and I'm sorry that he won't realized it until it's too late. Untill then, I hope he has fun while his bones are still rubber. And I hope he knows how terrific it is to make a boo-boo go away with something as simple and tender as a kiss.

kuh-RAZY!

The past few days have been nuts and are night impossible to summarize, but allow me to hit a few of the more memorable moments / impressions with a bunch of bullet points.

WARNING: This is probably one of the few posts that is so littered with inside jokes the casual reader may be left scratching their head. Since I do tend to veer towards topics designed for general public consumption, I do hope you'll forgive this momentary lapse.

• We thought it would be a good idea to kill off the whole bottle of Maker's Mark Friday night.
• Hilarious Wilde and Boozy McBooze.
• Getting back to my tent after what seemed like a seven mile hike lit up by only the full moon and having to admit I got totally and utterly lost ... while only being a few feet away the whole time.
• "Gayly" leading into "ostentatiously."
• A Woolworthy reunion that would have made The Replacements proud.
• "Did that woman just walk down those stepsto get onto that motorized wheelchair?"
• "So apparently Little Switzerland is also Land of the Bees."
  
• The return on the iPeel.
• Pickle the Cat!

And there was so much more, but it is early on a Monday and I suspect it's going to be a busy day, so I may as well get on with it, eh?

Makes me wanna holla...

Today we go camping. Photogal and I are getting to the site his afternoon, so we'll have a big jump on everyone else who isn't showing up until later tonight. I'm pretty excited since this is the first time I'll actually be camping with a large group of my friends.

When I was younger, I was a Boy Scout, and we would camp all the time. As it is with most things we are forced to do when younger, camping became more like a chore and less of a joy for me. When I started dating photogal, who had spent her entire life in the 'burbs and then the city, she wanted to go camping and outdoorsy stuff all the time. I complied primarily because when you love someone you want to do things that make them happy even if those things are less than your cup of tea. You KNOW it's love when those things are more like stale coffee grounds than a cup of tea.

Last year, though, I had enough. Photogal's brother-in-law loves camping so I announced that, for the most part, I was done with camping This has worked out fine, but I knew that deep down Photogal was happiest when I was the one pitching a tent for her.

Wait, that came out totally wrong. You know what I mean, gutter-head!

Anyway, when this opportunity to go camping with a crew I knew and loved presented itself I realized it was a win-win situation for both of us. Plus, Photogal barely ever does anything social with my crew anymore so it would be great to let her see what a great folks the people she was less familiar with really were!

We're packing up the car first thing in the A.M., and then we're off, so wish us safe travels.

__________
...and makes me wanna scream with joy.

We're only camping one night, though, since I set up a nifty little show at Subterranean Saturday night. By some fluke, three of the four bands contain all of the members of the final permutation of Woolworthy, so the evening will be extra-special for me since I haven't seen all of those guys share a stage (even though it will be at different points of the evening) since their farewell show a few years ago. Wow, has it been that long?

What makes the evening even more special is the chance to pair up some of my favorite Chicago bands with one of my favorite out-of-town bands (just so happening to feature my old college pal Ringo) Spanish For 100.

The icing on the cake? DJ Mother Hubbard is DJing in the downstairs space so everyone can see me dance / convulse after the show! Plus, since I'm DJing upstairs between bands, I'll have diPOD and tankPOD with me in case we want to mutiny and commandeer the decks.

Kidding!

Anyway, an I know I say this every time (and I honestly do believe it every time but this time it's REALLY true), this is a show NOT TO MISS.

Here are some mp3s of the bands performing (The track by The Assembly I've posted is actually something of a rarity, but it's an old fave of mine.) Take a listen, and I'll see you Saturday night!

Spanish For 100 "Say What You Want To Say"

Textbook "Find My Way Back Home"

The Assembly "Who Knows Where Your Life Went?"

Also, here's a poster in case you want to hang it in our cube / on your bedroom wall / on the ceiling of your sweet ride.


...heh, and here is what 1/3 of Spanish For 100 looks like at 3am...

Disaster!

This is worse than a 30 Seconds To Mars concert.

Why did no one tell me the roof of the office at The Pontiac has a tendency to leak when rain comes down in great thundering sheets? Why did I just so happen to leave my poor little CD-mixer RIGHT UNDER one of those leaks when bajillions of gallons of water came down earlier this week? And just how priceless was the look on my face when I arrived to find my CD-mixer quite literally waterlogged?

Luckily for me, Rudy came through in a pinch and let me borrow his CD-mixer Tuesday, but that was just a single night loan. And, as fate would have it, next week's DJ is using CDs (the last few have been utilizing their laptops and iPods) and I have no electronic equipment through which to play CDs?

Bummer, huh? Anyone have any suggestions of somewhere quick / cheap in the Chicago area I can take my poor doused little baby for a look-over and possible repair?

UPDATE: The owner of The Pontiac has offered to pay for my poor widdle mixer's repair (which I think is awfully swell of him) so any suggestions on a cheap but dependable establishement to do the job would be especially appreciated now. Thanks!

__________

Sizeable weekend.

I have a killer show I have lined up for all of you Saturday night, and I expect every person that reads this, except those who are out of town that weekend, to be in attendance. Friday I will be out camping in the wilderness of Wisconsin and tonight I will be at The Pontiac swooning under the influence of The Winter Sounds and shaking with the trembling might of Bicycle Tricycle.

I will also be jamming out to this all weekend, since Agent Spark's album has been tickling my pleasure centers as of late.

Agent Sparks "Polly Anne"

And while I'm on the subject of borderline cheese (because, admit it, the above is a slice of pretty simplistic, yet edifying, pop) here's another slice. This tune come from a group that comes from the long line of bands that once opened for Woolworthy.

Plain White Ts "Hate (I Really Don't Like You)"

And finally, a tune from what is turning out to be a super polarizing album, or, as my friend Peter the Bartender said of the group, "The kids I've talked to, they don't like The Killers. They say they're a band that are liked by old people that are trying to act young. The kids, they say The Killers are no good."

Truth be told, I don't think I've actually spun a Killers track in months and months, but -- and I admit this surprises even me -- I'm finding the straining limits of the new disc to be endearing. Anyway, enough jabber. Listen to this track that veers from '80s dance-synth to overblown bombast that would make even Freddy Mercury blush. Oh wait, I think I just descibed the new My Chemical Romance single by accident. This song is nothing like that. Come to think of it, this song isn't even on the new Killers album!

The Killers "Daddy's Eyes"

I didn't mean to start a backlash, honest!

From a live review about Catfish Haven's Memphis show, in Spin.com:

The trio have been covered extensively in the blogosphere, stirring up so much hype that a backlash has already begun on hometown site Chicagoist, where a debate was sparked on whether the band is genius or generic.

The aforementioned Chicagoist review is here. I don't feel the need to say any more, since the review and ensuing comments pretty much says it all.

I will say, however, I really think it would be a good idea for Scott and I to do more head-to-head reviews, especially since I think all criticism flowers under well-reasoned debate.

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A backlash I’d be happy to start.

Has anyone else noticed a true degradation in the quality of the adhesive used to create the tape that seals CDs lately? In the olden days, I could forgive tape that pulled away in frazzled strips and left a sticky residue when the discs it was sticking to were clearly made on the cheap by labels that needed to cut corners (i.e. indies to whom the roster was more important than the packaging.) Lately, though, this phenomenon seem to ONLY occur with Major Label product! Have the downloaders finally cut into the profit margins so severely that poor Capital / EMI can’t afford anything but flypaper and saran-wrap with which to seal their product?

Now look, but griping about this in the first place I betray the fact that even though I do get lots of free music, and download music that's available, I still go out and pay for artist output on a pretty regular basis (much to the chagrin of Photogal and a two-flat whose basement, and a quarter of the first floor, has been usurped by music recordings / gear / paraphernalia.

This seems awfully simple to me: If you want people to keep buying your physical product, DON'T SKIMP ON STUPID SHIT!

Makes me wanna beat on the brat with a baseball bat, oh yeah.

Also, if you’re going to offer free downloads as a premium for folks that actually go out and buy the album on opening day¹, please don’t make it in some protected format that urges you to download "security keys" or "software" in order to make it playable, did you people learn nothing from that whole Sony/BMG debacle? Just make it a simple mp3, and let us skulk off with our digital music player of choice and listen to it at our leisure without any string attached.

Okay, thus endeth today"s rant.

Tomorrow we"ll talk all about puppies and squirrels and rainbows ... and why the Major Labels want to crush them all under their boot!

¹Beck sort of gets off the hook for this one since he inlcuded a free DVD with a $9.99 CD, however there was no excuse for R.E.M.'s "bonus downloads" to be protected WMA files.

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Here, this will make me feel better.

Please enjoy these two photographs of my girlfriend tearing it up on a racing track on her vintage BMW.



Isn't she hawt?

Danger ... rock science!

So this post is a little different. It's actually being composed, not within Blogger, but within Writely. I've been itching to try out this online word processor for a while now, but just never had the time. Well, technically I still don't have the time, since I have to go to work and then a wake and then I'm off to DJ and (at the base of it all) these are actually the only spare moments I'll have to myself all day. But, hey, all the more reason to indulge myself, huh?

Tonight's DJ gig should prove interesting since my DJ partner is Menthol mainman (Bowie ref intentional there) Balthazar de Ley. Mr. de Ley and I have been crossing paths for going on twelve years or so here, now, dating all the way back to knowing the same Champaign / Normal crowd back in the day. I'm expecting a pretty wild mix (he's dubbed his set The French Connection, and I'm very excited to hear that name made manifest) so I would mark this down as a don't miss type of night. At the same time, it's supposed to storm like holy hell, so I recommend getting to The Pontiac early and grabbing some cheap shots of Maker's Mark early to avoid getting all rained on.

The lightning, however, will provide a most excellent backdrop for the evening.

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Talk about a super Tuesday!

New releases from The Killers, Beck, and The Decemberists hit the street today, and all three of those discs are worth owning, in my opinion. But if your funds are limited, and you can only afford one disc tomorrow, then I would pick up the new Hold Steady disc I've been raving about since August. Trust me, YOU CAN NOT GO WRONG with this disc. Plus, when it goes super crazy popular, and everyone and their sister is spinning it and raving about it and it's on constant rotation at The Gap you can say, "Remember when they just sounded like Bruce Sprinsgteen and weren't more popular than him, U2 and Christina Aguilera all put together? Huh? Huh? Do ya?"

Okay, maybe it won't get that out of control, but I do predict infectious goodness to make its way around the earworm substrata thus making the influence of Boys & Girls In America inescapable.

Craig Finn image courtesy Kathryn Yu

Small thoughts.

• It's supposed to be in the mid-80's today. There should be a law declaring any days over 80 degrees F that occur after October 1 automatically trigger a work holiday.
• While Veruca Salt was enjoyable last Friday, the band that really knocked both Ringo and I out was opener Agent Sparks. And it wasn't just because the lead singer was adorably cute. The music was just so frickin' catchy, and it didn't hurt that they had the male/ female co-vocalist thing going on. When it's done right I'm a sucker fro that sort of thing.
• Also, The Mugs were an entertaining show on Saturday. The music was sweet, and the band was tight, but the best thing was the bassist's aerobic workout that we assume was triggered by the pure joy of playing in front of an appreciative crowd. I think I'll have to catch them at Schuba's when they come through town again.
• Saturday was just a hell of a lot of fun, actually. This was due in no small part to it primarily consisting of me, Ringo and Chatman running around town and amusing each other to no end. Inside joke alert: iPeel.
• Photogal discovered that her motorcycle can go really fast and do that thing where it scrapes the ground because you're leaning just that hard into a sharp turn on a racing track. Great, my girlfriend is now an adrenaline junkie / thrillseeker! I don't know if I'm proud, impressed, or scared out of my wits by that piece of news.
• The Decemberists new album is going to be huge. I like the band but admit that their success has mystified me a bit since, by all rights, they should be too dense and challenging or the general public. Honestly, I think this new disc is actually less accessible than their last, but all signs point to it being a monster (relatively to the band's previous releases) sales-wise. I'm not predicting Postal Service levels of crossover potential, but I think it's going to do exceptionally well.
• Lastly, I'm on week two of the new laptop. I think I've finally gotten used to the compressed keyboard, and so far-so good on the wireless network / Internet connectivity front. I still haven't transferred all my files I'm going to keep from my old computer, since I still want to make sure everything is functioning perfectly before my 2-week no-questions-asked return period is up. Ant suggestions for things I should do to raod-test it thoroughly? Also, and this mat be betraying a level of ignorance on my part, the ads said the computer would have a 120GB hard drive, but when I click the C-drive icon in the My Computer section it only shows up as having 104GB ... would 16GB just not show up due to being allocated for something I don't know about? Sometimes I feel relatively computer savvy, and others I think I know how my dad must've felt sometimes when grappling with newer technologies.