3/2/16

Seeing Jason Isbell perform for the second time tonight. I almost didn't buy tickets - stupid, I know! - in an attempt to be fiscally responsible and see if any freebies or friend offers came may way. But last night, with neither of those plausible chances coming to fruition, I made sure to secure myself a seat and I'll be there in six hours or so, on the third deck of the Benedum Center balcony, so I can hear the genius Isbell and beautiful Amanda Shires play the highlights.

There's a 110 percent chance I'm leaving in tears, the quiet, hot kind that you try to hide but can't stop because you'd rather feel through your emotion than lock it up for the sake of saving face. Something about his songs - both melodies and words - cuts to the quick of what moving songs are supposed to do. He can channel the heartfelt without overplaying its effect. He can evoke memories you never knew you had. Few artists in this wide open music scene have the literary way with words that has made Isbell's records such a classic --

"I'll throw rocks at your window from the street
And we'll call ourselves the flagship of the fleet."
~Flagship 
Jason Isbell, Something More Than Free

--not to mention the things he can do to a guitar, extending solos into mini-epics, playing each note a little clearer, a little truer, a little longer than the last. Hearing him for a couple hours tonight promises a respite from the rest of the world, just as it was last February, just as his albums from my speakers provide the most solid soundtrack, appealing to the better parts of my taste and humanity.

"It's a strange thing to write a love song," he said during a live session on WYEP today.

Strange, but beautiful.

2/2/16

Saturday! SaturdaySaturdaySaturday. On Saturday I finally get to see Marianas Trench, one of my most favorite bands due to their musicality and lyrics and being an all-around good time. I've been binging a little bit, in the middle of putting Kanye West's discography on repeat in anticipation of "Waves."  The contrast is a little rough, but energizing through long, grey days nonetheless.

While I'm expecting a total barrage of hooks and harmonies from "Astoria" during this Marianas Trench tour, my fingers are crossed for some special covers and old favorites, perhaps like this "Iris/Good for You" one. It's a pretty simple transition, nothing fancy, the connection is all in the chords and the sentiment. I could do without the crowds screaming along, but I can't say I won't be acting in a similar fashion in four days time.



"And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am....

Everyone's around, no words are coming now.
And I can't find my breath, can we just say the rest with no sound.
And I know this isn't enough, I still don't measure up.
And I'm not prepared, sorry is never there when you need it.

And now I do want you to know 
I hold you up above everyone.
And now I do want you to know 
I think you'd be good to me
And I'd be so good to you."
~Iris/Good to You, as performed by Josh Ramsay  

6/9/15

"And you're, you're the kind to hide your eyes from the sun
And in your world the strong survive
But won't you lay your body down
Yes and now, now's the time to wrap your ears around the sound
Of your train coming round
You'll have to lay everything down."
~Arms Like Boulders
The War on Drugs, Wagonwheel Blues

Tonight I get to see one of my favorite bands of 2014, The War on Drugs, perform here in town. I'm crossing my fingers for a setlist full of "Lost in the Dream." I will give myself a present if I don't break down in tears during "In Reverse." Or maybe, if I do, that will be a present of its own kind.

I am taking this day as an opportunity to revisit some of their older tracks, which carry much of the same aesthetic with less of the study. The story of how hard Adam Granduciel worked on this album for a year in and out of Philadelphia studios became intertwined with its own success, told and retold in celebratory reviews. Rightfully so, I'd say, as I like it when critics recognize and reaffirm the work that goes into creating something worthwhile. This album is full of shadows and light, woven together with seemingly off the cuff lyrical content, from daylight observations to silent musings alone in the dark. These are not words, or melodies, that try too hard. Patience is the key to this album's success-- it is also the biggest difference from past releases, and it is in this self-actualization and realization Granduciel found commercial success. A dream, indeed. 

It's easy to write, when you know how to. Writing well is another matter entirely. That takes a different kind of concentration and focus, one that's hyped up and hurried by intensity and insanity. I'm hoping to see some of that on display tonight. I need to see some of that on display tonight. I want that reminder of how working hard is worth it every time, trusting yourself is not a risk but a challenge, and while giving up is for losers, getting lost isn't losing at all. 

"And I don't mind you disappearing
When I know you can be found
When you livin' on the dark side of the street, damn?
We just livin' in the moment, making our past, losin' our grasp through the grand parade."
~In Reverse
The war on Drugs, Lost in the Dream

9/25/14

This is my favorite Black Keys song of late, though it's not new. I suppose I first heard it on a breeze-through listen of El Camino after its release, an album I appreciated but never listened to much, as I always favored the older stuff. "Little Black Submarines" re-entered my consciousness as a radio edit in mid-August. Now it is a weekly, or daily, obsessive listen.

It's classic Black Keys in the best way, dreary and aggressive, composed and chaotic. They performed it during a magnificent spectacle of an arena tour in Pittsburgh earlier this month, and I felt stunned by Dan Auerbach playing solo in spotlight. I felt shaken by the kick kicking in at the bust, enraptured by the newfound attack of the hook. Subtle tambourine and synth harken back to this band's earlier days, the ones of rebellious distortion and analog glory. Then everything collides, a punishing offensive of one loud-ass guitar and a little of everything else backing it up. Auerbach's effortless cool is trademark, and rugged, and I can't think of a better sound than his vintage pedal-fuzz to accompany this hardening of hearts. Lyrical brilliance has never been this band's strong suit, though it has never needed to be with this kind of blues-rock feeling, and yet here they hit their mark with dead-on aim, with a story of a desperate broken heart sullen and thrashing in its own misery.

Vulnerability never sounded so tough.




"Little black submarines,
Operator please,
Put me back on the line.
Told my girl I'd be back
Operator please,
This is wreckin' my mind

Oh can it be,
The voices calling me,
They get lost,
And out of time,
I should've seen it glow,
But everybody knows,
That a broken heart is blind.
That a broken heart is blind.

Pick you up, let you down,
When I wanna go
To a place I can hide.
You know me, I had plans,
But they just disappeared,
To the back of my mind.

Oh can it be,
The voices calling me,
They get lost,
And out of time.
I should've seen a glow
But everybody knows
That a broken heart is blind
That a broken heart is blind.

Treasure maps, fallen trees,
Operator please
Call me back when it's time
Stolen friends and disease,
Operator please,
Patch me back to my mind.

Oh can it be?
The voices calling me
They get lost
And out of time.
I should've seen a glow
But everybody knows
That a broken heart is blind
That a broken heart is blind
That a broken heart is blind."
~Little Black Submarines
The Black Keys, El Camino

8/31/14

Today I get to see my favorite band play for the first time. Since 2010,The Wonder Years have been my link to the past and soundtrack to the present, the kind of pop punk that touched upon everything that made me love the genre way back when in the first place, deepened with an of-age maturity perfectly matching my own struggles, trials, inner demons and dreams. Dan Campbell and company created a tremendous force in a genre ever-shifting, ever-changing, ever running from its own stereotypes without sacrificing their own progression. For this, and for the countless hours spent singing at the top of my lungs, I love them. Check out the tag at the end of this post. You'll see.

I get to see The Wonder Years today, and it's mostly because I live in Pittsburgh, a major market with a devoted community of promoters who work hard to deliver the best of the scene, and one-of-a-kind events like the Four Chord Music Festival. It's been such an improvement in my exposure to bands and overall quality of life to be able to find out a band is touring and know there's a pretty good shot they're coming through a local venue, after I spent a year and a half missing out due to having to travel to D.C., Philadelphia or Baltimore to see the bands I love.

Shows were immensely important to me growing up. They were the only place I felt sort of cool - at school I was an over-achieving nerd, at ballet class I was a tortured young artist, but in my basement blasting Taking Back Sunday or The Early November, I felt alright, understood. Thee early 2000s eruption of indie, emo and pop punk bands gave me an anchor, and I clung to it. Going to see the bands I loved live meant dancing and yelling and gaping in awe like a fool, but it also meant being part of a crowd I didn't have to run from or morph in front of to fit in. I saw kids like me, and older ones with tattoos and cigarettes I'd one day emulate, in my own way. My fascination with stage and performance developed, learning to hear the acute differences between guitar parts and memorize set lists. The fixation eventually carried over to other parts of my life, when wearing band shirts and listening to headphones in the hallways led me to some of the best friends I ever made.

I'm no longer a mousy girl in checkered Vans with a button-covered messenger bag waiting outside the back door of The Bug Jar, but that feeling that drove me there never left. In some ways, my ability to satiate it has only increased with the time and resources adulthood can provide. Sure, I sometimes feel old (there was that time I went to the Touche Amore concert in my work clothes and high heels) but I'm so grateful to be able to indulge this part of myself, now more than ever. So, cheers to the Pittsburgh music community for giving me an outlet again, for enriching my 2014 with so many incredible shows, sounds and memories, for giving me another spin with that all-time favorite companion, distraction and medicine of live music.

Should be a great show.

"I've been acting like I'm strong
But the truth is, I've been losing ground
To a hospital too crowded,
A summer winding down,
I hadn't seen a heartbreak until now,
I hadn't felt a heartbreak until now."
~Dismantling Summer
The Wonder Years,The Greatest Generation

12/5/12

"Honey we came to dance with the girls with the stars in their eyes..."

~We Came to Dance

The Gaslight Anthem, Sink or Swim

I saw Gaslight Anthem last night in D.C. Well, two nights ago, technically, by the date, but just a little over 24 hours. It was everything I wanted and more. 

Venue, the 9:30 Club, got sweaty, but it was a pretty beautiful place, charming architecture with dirty floors. The audience was hip, and liked to mosh. Didn't expect that but it thrilled me. There were action figures and red candles settled on the amps, kind of felt like what the set up must've been in their Jersey garage back when. The setlist was pretty impeccable, I could've heard "When We Were Young," but they opened with "Mae" which broke my heart in just the right way. After that, a black scrim dropped down, showing a fierce bird/dragon emblem.  I really appreciate their song choices. "Handwritten" tracks sounded fresh, those guitar melodies just sliced the air and locked in a revelry as the album would have you believe. Truly impressed by the layers and precision, definitely got the feeling that touring over the last few years have given these guys a good handle on the kind of riffs that can just energize a crowd. Bass tones were solid, I couldn't see Alex Levine play too much from where I was standing and its mix wasn't too balanced from where I was standing unfortunately, but sounded good if not too intricate. Alex Rosamilia and Brian switching off on lead guitar melodies works well, they really have different feels and gear preferences that gives you a good blend of metal-inspired riffs (fastfingers!! I watched them as close as I could over the heads and iPhones) and sustained  chromatic notes that are all feel (goddamn those semi-hollows sound great, I would want one if I had money to burn and better shoulder muscles to show it off cause they're damn heavy).

"There you go, turn the key and engine over 

Let her go, let somebody else lay at her feet..." 

~45

The Gaslight Anthem, Handwritten

Dudes in the band seemed like lovable punks; think they'd make good friends if I happened to find myself friends with them. As lead vocalist and MC and de facto spokesman, Brian Fallon was not ashamed to be a jerk - calling himself a liar, and a bad friend, and yelling at some dude who said "Fuck You" after he had declared his New York Jets allegiance ("Isn't my life terrible enough?" he shouted back). He told a cool story about Bon Jovi texting him (with a great line about filling 20,000+ capacity stadiums that to me revealed a certain ambitious insecurity I immediately recognized) that could've been seen as douchy if he didn't seem like the kind of guy who didn't care if you thought he was douchey. We all hear his songs, so we know he's a sentimental old fool at the core. He didn't talk too, too much, just enough, I think, to give you a feel of who he wanted to present himself to be that night. Guy seems existential as fuck, but if he read that he'd probabyl tell you that's just my perception of him and I don't really know. You could speculate, maybe, if The Gaslight Anthem will just be Brian Fallon someday --  I'll bet his bandmates do, given the media attention he gets -- but I do not predict that in the near future because this band gives you a show, a mood, a scene, and that generally can be more profitable in many ways including the obvious financial ones.I would like to see them stay around for awhile more. As for his singing - he did what I've seen him do with live footage, tinker with the higher melodies to make them more comfortable, cause night after night that can get pretty taxing I'd imagine given how raspy his voice is a lot of the time....however, a gift for melody and counterpoint seems to work in Fallon's favor here, surprising his audience with more complex parts on even the most familiar of tunes.

"Well, I wonder which song they're gonna play when we go. 
I hope it's something quiet and minor and peaceful and slow."

~The '59 Sound

The Gaslight Anthem, The '59 Sound

Older tracks, like a personal faves "We Came to Dance" and "Drive," as well as an extended intro version of "Angry Johnny and the Radio" were rehearsed really well, obviously, to the point of reinvented solos and Brian turning his back to the audience to jam out with the long-haired bearded drummer, Benny. Benny did not seem like a super-master technician trick wise, but he was all feel, all dynamics and pocket and drive and push that really propels a lot of their song structure. "Here's Looking at You, Kid" was so good to hear, so so so so so good to hear, even though they took a break before the last verse to give Brian a minute to talk about the ex-girlfriend in the third verse.  Following a one-song acoustic break with the opener that I had missed, there were some cuts from "American Slang," including the title track that made me want to run away and do all kinds of things and see all kinds of things and have no cares in the world other than what the day might bring. Continuing that theme emotionally and musically, "Diamond Church Street Choir" was dead on with the backup vocals and all. Actually I was really impressed with how they used backup vocals overall, including those of the third guitarist, Ian. Really clear balance and really retro at times, especially in "Here Comes My Man." Love seeing simple harmony backsup in a rock band...again, retro and quite pleasing sonic-wise.

"They'll find me beat down out in the universe
Though I'll never forget where I'm from..."
~The Diamond Church Street Choir
The Gaslight Anthem, American Slang

Overall, they presented a really cohesive catalog, and message, and feel. Condensing four LPs into an hour and half show isn't the easiest task, but you can tell they've learned what tracks from past albums have real staying power and played a role in crafting their sound as it exists today. You can tell they're proud, and still having fun. Still in some shock at their fan base. Personally, I was unbelievably happy to hear so many songs I loved, get a better feel for where these songs are coming from in terms of both inspiration and persperation. 

And of course, it just made me think about how different my life would be today if I follow different dreams, if I wound up at club after club and bar after bar night after night.  

"And the only thing we know is it's getting dark and we better go
And the only thing we say are the despairs of the day, 

And if you're too tired, go to sleep, my brothers,
And if you're too tired, go to sleep, my brothers
I'm alright to drive"

~Drive 

The Gaslight Anthem, Sink or Swim

There is a lot more I could say, about these songs and how they made me feel, and how it seemed they were making a lot of other people feel -- from the toe-tappers on the mezzanine in their glasses and vests ... the youngish looking girl with a huge smile dancing her ass off to my left and the guy in front of me with the bald spot who kept turning around and looking at me out of the corner of his eye ... to the big dude in the Menzigners shirt who kept crossing back and forth though where my friends and I were standing....and I could say a whole lot abot those people who stand so fucking still at concerts I have no idea why they're even there....and what about those sweet amazing couples, hugging and swaying and kissing, so intimate admist all this ruckus? Quite interesting to me to the blonde girl sitting and nodding her head to the beat, (tour or venue crew?) so controlled and composed as she looked on from what I can best describe as a private fenced-off box stage right that I would've given a pinky toe to be sitting in. The romance, the lust, the draw, it was there in every corner no matter how disguised among the crowds of D.C.'s apparently varied population of music fans.

"Now do you blow it out come Friday night?
See if you wanna, you can find me on the hood under the moonlight
Radio, oh radio, do you believe there’s still some magic left
Somewhere inside our souls?"
~Howl
The Gaslight Anthem, Handwritten

There is a lot more I could say, about these songs and how they make me feel, about how many years I've heard this band and how that cutthroat honesty, unafraid of drama or cliche, gets me every time..a lot more I could say, but I have a sleep debt and a long, long week to shine on through. Here goes nothing, again - if there was any other takeaway from last night, it's that truly anything is possible, no matter how frightening or far-fetched.

"I've never felt so strange
Standing in the pounding rain
Thinking about what my mother once said
Maybe I should call me an ambulance"

~The Patient Ferris Wheel 

The Gaslight Anthem, The '59 Sound

Sidenote: We're going to see a lot of lists soon, it being December and all. I am a little too zonked right now (whatever that means) to process my top 10 albums of the year, but I will see that when I read quick briefs of album reviews of those I haven't encountered, it's really easy to make me not want to listen to the album, and that's if you state the obvious. Lyric excerpts are too often used as crutches. Tell me why I need to listen to this and why it is better than anything else, don't give me meeting minutes. Fuck if I know anything about music writing, though.

4/14/12

Just a post to commemorate the Lovedrug concert I went to Wednesday, April 11, 2012 at the Bug Jar wtih my dear sister. Spent a good hour before the show chatting with the band, sharing stories about travel and music and bands and life and partying. Lent out a cigarette or two. Entirely likable gentleman, not taking themselves too seriously but not spotlight-seeking.
All in all, enjoyable company, hope I was too, though my sister told me I talked too much. I was drinking Jack and diets, so, my animation increased tenfold as dark liquor tends to do to me. Layer on talking about compression, and Taylor v. Martin, shady American suburbs and favorite musicians, and yeah, I'm in a pretty good mood.

I am past the point of being intimated by meeting musicians I look up to. At one point, sure, but the mystery of the traveling musician is just that, a mystery, and it's a complete fallacy when you get down to it. There is no magic potion, these are men and women with a lifestyle choice that has a number of conseqeuences most people don't want to take, or give up on. And it creates drama, intrigue, romanticism. Talent will do that to a soul. Hence the allure.

But, I digress. The show itself - a 50 minute rip through nine or 10 tracks old and new. Incredible. Pretty much everything sounded perfect, no technical difficulties, no notciable alterations to songs to make them easier. No kitchy audience banter, no smug prefacing. Just the tight live performance of modern American grunge-inspired and melody-laced rock and roll.

The Bug Jar is tiny - they may as well have been performing in my parent's basement, and I think if I asked them, they would - so keys and auxiliary sounds on albums were not replicated live. The setlist reflected this - no "We Were Owls" otherworldly intro, no piano-driven "Everything Starts Where it Ends" cuts. But that was OK, this was about silky guitars, eat-your-heart-out melodies and a really-fucking-tight rhythm section.

I was awestruck the whole time, really, too enraptured to notice the world around me. Any thought that dared enter my head unrelated to the performance in front of me quickly burned out, unable to compete. Before the show I wondered if they may have intentionally held back a bit, as they were playing in NYC the following night and clearly that's the crowd you want to impress coming off a new album, right? - but this concern was not validated. They played tight, they played well, the entetained the living daylights out of a small but devoted crowd, true troubadors to the end.

It can't be easy, weeks on end on the road, but what a challenge, when home is a memory, and friends and loved ones are scattered around the country. A meaningful moment is hardly replicated elsewhere, just replaced by a new one til it all blends together into one mess of snapshot recollections - meanwhile, your energy pours out on stage night after night, thretening to leave you stale if you push it that much harder. Human is human, right? Even at those times when we feel so much more - like when songs still your heart and mind, or when the blood in your fingertips delivers the pulse in your soul, or when the tiny fraction of a second between the last moment and the next one captures more meaning than you'd ever care to begin to unravel.

Oh yeah, that concert. Damn. "Wild Blood," "Dinosaur," "Pink Champagne," and "Great Divide" all made appearances, as did "Angels With Enemies," and "Blackout" which I was very excited to hear. "Blackout" in particular sounded amazing, fierce and imposing and frightening til the last foreboding lyric - "walk down the hall/and put yourself to bed." They closed with "Anodyne" and I was thrilled to hear it. Gorgeous, chilling song (see below for video worthy of equal adjectives, cut from cult b-list horror flick). The crowd, throughout the night, was incredibly responsive - Lovedrug fans are a devoted breed.

After the show I got my "Wild Blood" vinyl signed, without a shred of fangirl shame. I have so much respect for this band and every time I see that record I'm going to remember to never give up, always stay true to yourself, and don't be scared to show the truth - it's the only thing that counts.

I just fucking love this band.