Swell Season live

For those of you who caught the Swell Season show at the Palace Theatre last week and want to relive it, or if you just like the Swell Season and want to hear a good performance, PlayedLastNight.com has the full show as a .zip download here for $9.95, and the quality is pretty darn good. Worth the $10, in my book.

Here's a little taste--one of my favorites of the new songs the Once couple played called "I Have Loved You Wrong."

mp3: The Swell Season - I Have Loved You Wrong

Columbus releases: The Flashing Clock, Two Cow Garage

The Flashing Clock - Hot Brown
Dan Spurgeon is probably better known for his other band, Bush League All-Stars, but the Flashing Clock just might change that with its new album, Hot Brown.

Recorded by Datapanik’s Nick Schuld, it consists of 11 two- and three-minute ditties that sound like they were all put to tape in a creative frenzy one substance-fueled night. The songs are devoid of frills and (high) fidelity, just old-fashioned rock ’n’ roll with a dash of punk thrown in.

Lyrically, it’s doubtful any of these songs will have you pondering your place in this world. (Take the hook in “Teardrop Tattoo”: “Teardrop tattoo, don’t know what I’m gonna do.”) But rock music doesn’t always have to do that. Sometimes all you want is distorted guitars and a catchy chorus, and the Flashing Clock delivers. I absolutely love “Knife Fight” and “Have You Seen.” Let’s hope Spurgeon (or “Cosmo Time,” as the CD sleeve refers to him) keeps this project on the front burner.

RIYL: Bush League All-Stars, the Patsys

The Flashing Clock and You’re So Bossy are on the bill for the Evil Queens’ (possibly) last show Saturday night at Ruby Tuesday.

Two Cow Garage - Speaking Cursive
Speaking in Cursive, the fourth full-length from Two Cow Garage, follows in the same vein of the band’s last one, III, but this talented band’s cowpunk just keeps getting better—probably a result of constant touring.

“Bastards and Bridesmaids” and “Your Humble Narrator” are destined to become Two Cow classics. “Swingset Assassin” is a folk song that highlights singer Micah Schnabel’s knack for storytelling, tracking his childhood musical journey from the Beatles through Black Flag: “I wrapped myself up in Black Flag and flew it as my own...But in the end punk rock just left me empty and alone.” But Schnabel never discarded any of those influences completely; all of them have been incorporated. Two Cow Garage’s sound wouldn’t be the same without that punk edge--due in part to Schnabel's shredded vocals--alongside the country and pop-rock sounds.

Along with tackling death, drugs, self-doubt and heartbreak, Speaking in Cursive continues Schnabel’s attempts at reconciling his love for music with its destructive force in his life. In “Folksinger’s Heart,” he mentions a bit of advice he received: “My father, and the truth: ‘Destroy the thing you love, son, before it destroys you.’”

Good thing for us he’s not heeding his father’s warning.

RIYL: Haynes Boys, Drive-By Truckers, Replacements

(Also at the Other Paper)

The Swell Season - Columbus, 9-22

Fans who came to see Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova (aka the Swell Season) at the Palace Theatre because of their love of the movie Once were immediately satisfied Monday night.

In the film, there’s a scene in which Hansard busks on a dark street, singing and shouting “Say It to Me Now” as his voice and guitar bounces off the dumpsters, buildings and bricks around him. On this night, Hansard came out unplugged, stood at the edge of the stage and sang the same song, letting the natural acoustics of the theater do the work. He even played the same now-iconic, beat-up guitar with a giant hole in it. It was a stirring performance, and the first of many times Hansard let loose his throaty roar while beating his abused guitar into submission.

From there, Irglova came out to accompany him on “Falling Slowly,” the best-known song from Once. It was a pretty duet, and you could tell the crowd just loved seeing these two together as a real-life couple, especially after the fictional characters they played went their separate ways in the movie. The couple’s celebrity status was undeniable.

It’s a risky move to open the show with such anticipated songs, but the concert seemed to only get better. Hansard showed himself to be charismatic, humble, theatrical and affable. He gave entertaining prologues to just about every tune and wasn’t afraid to wax philosophical, but did so with a smirky sense of humor that never made any of the rants feel ponderous. The guy’s really likable. Irglova was predictably his understated, talented foil, and Hansard’s other band, the Frames, served as the more-than-capable backing band throughout the night.

Other than the drums often being too low in the mix, it was great to hear the songs with such clear sound and in such a visually stunning room. Though some Swell Season tunes stay consistently quiet, Hansard usually builds them to a loud climax that makes it impossible to write him off as a sensitive folk rocker. The technique worked well, especially on songs like “When Your Mind’s Made Up” and “Leave.”

The most frenetic song of the night was a cover of Van Morrison’s “Astral Weeks,” which Hansard played solo, speed-strumming his guitar so fast and hard that it turned into a rhythmic wall of machine-gun noise. (It was also one of many times throughout the night an elderly couple in front of me plugged their ears.) Strings broke, sweat dripped. “That was very cathartic,” Hansard said afterwards. No kidding.

Of the new songs, I was less impressed with “Backbroke,” but “I’ve Loved You Wrong,” featuring Irglova on lead vocals and guitar, was beautiful. The band repeated the song’s refrain--“You’ve been, every now and then, on my mind”--as the tune came to a close, with more and more instruments dropping out until it ended a cappella with all six voices on stage contributing.

The most unexpected moment of the night came during the encore, as Hansard explained that his drummer needed some metal in his system after a night of folk rock. So the guitar tech came out and led the band through a hilarious and surprisingly awesome rendition of Black Sabbath’s “War Pigs.”

The band threw in a few Frames tunes, as well, including “Red Chord,” a great full-band song that reminded me of early Counting Crows, and “Fitzcarraldo,” a second-encore song that was the most epic of the night. It’ll have plenty of folks, myself included, exploring more of the Frames’ back catalog.

This same night, Irish band Bell X1 was playing a show at the Basement. (They were previously scheduled as the openers for the canceled Stars show at Milo.) Apparently the Frames and Bell X1 are friends, so Hansard invited two of the guys to play a couple songs as a last-minute opener following Bill Callahan of Smog. On record Bell X1 reminds me a bit too much of the Fray or a neutered Frightened Rabbit, but in this setting--a stripped-down, impromptu, thrown-together performance with wonderful sound--it was nice. Expect to hear “Eve, the Apple of My Eye” on multiple TV dramas this fall.

Callahan was the definition of laid-back, but got peppier as the longish set went on. The crooner showcased his crystalline guitar playing and big baritone on “Sycamore,” then his noisier side on “Cold Blooded Old Times” and “Blood Flow.” Callahan’s robotic stage mannerisms gave the set an overall lack of intensity, especially compared with Hansard, but he was an enjoyable opener nonetheless.

Blitzen Trapper - Furr

Furr is Blitzen Trapper’s first release for Sub Pop, a label that has begun to reshape its sound into something pretty and pastoral, especially when you consider this is the label that released Nirvana’s Bleach and Mudhoney’s self-titled debut a little less than 20 years ago.

In its roster now are bands like Fleet Foxes, Band of Horses, Iron & Wine, Grand Archives and Loney, Dear. So it should come as no surprise that Furr is significantly less skronky than last year’s Wild Mountain Nation, a loose, lo-fi affair that harkened as much to Pavement as it did to alt.country and Deliverance-style banjo pickin’.

Still self-recorded by Blitzen’s singer/songwriter/producer, Eric Earley, Furr’s edges are more rounded. Even the songs with a runaway-train-falling-off-the-tracks approach (“Love U,” “Fire + Fast Bullets”) feel quieter and more restrained. And in between touring, Earley must have been listening to a lot of Dylan, because that troubadour’s influence can be felt all over this record—lyrically, melodically and even in Earley’s intonation.

For a band like Blitzen Trapper, it’s dangerous to “mature,” especially when what made Wild Mountain Nation so fun was its carefree, all-over-the-map aesthetic. But fortunately, maturity suits this Portland band, and the cohesion of Furr more than makes up for any real or perceived lack of spontaneity.

The title track is the keystone of the album, a warm folk song featuring only Earley’s voice and guitar (and a little harmonica) that revels in the band’s less noisy, more melodic new direction. Earley starts the song as a 17-year-old who wanders into the woods, hears the howling of a wolf and decides to join the pack: “So from the cliffs and highest hill we would gladly get our fill/Howling endlessly and shrilly at the dawn/ And I lost the taste for judging right from wrong/ For my flesh had turn to fur.”

The second verse finds the narrator on his 23rd birthday, the day he meets a girl similarly wandering in the woods and settles down on a farm with her to raise children. The fur has become skin again, and the narrator is now in a world “I confess I do not know.”

It’s a superbly written song, one I’ve listened to over and over. It works as a metaphor for all the various ways a man goes off to sow his wild oats (going to college, not going to college, starting a band, etc.), then eventually settles down. But the transition is never easy. It’s hard to shake that yearning for the freedom of the prodigal years. Still, Earley advises, “If you’re gonna get made, don’t be afraid of what you’ve learned.”

“Lady on the Water” and “Not Your Lover” are similarly mellow, the latter using a rickety old piano that found a place on several tunes, mostly to their betterment.

Blitzen Trapper hasn’t completely forgotten its past. Opener “Sleepytime in the Western World” melds old and new Blitzen, and “War on Machines” reminds me a lot of “Wild Mountain Nation,” not a bad thing. The band has found a way to refine and hone without becoming boring.

Furr is an album that with each listen may have you reconfiguring your top 20 list of 2008. And then your top 15. And your top 10.

mp3: Blitzen Trapper - Furr

(also at The Other Paper)

The Walkmen - The Basement, 9-15

The Walkmen have always fascinated me. Yeah, I like their music, but it’s more that I’m inordinately drawn to a voice that just doesn’t match its supplier, and Hamilton Leithauser fits that bill.

I mean, just look at that name. Doesn’t it sound like a signature of sweater-clad privilege? Usually, Leithauser’s appearance furthers the case: nicely coifed blond hair, bright blue eyes and clean, nice-fitting clothes. On Monday night at the Basement he even made a black leather jacket look upper-crust preppy instead of bad-boy, sort of like Ralph Macchio’s nemesis in The Karate Kid.

For all I know, Leithauser was wasted Monday night, but he sure looked stone-cold sober and serious, which made the wild, drunken squall that emerged all the more shocking, even when you know what’s coming. Wrenching those notes out looked and sounded like a painful exercise, as if Leithauser were giving birth to the songs sans epidural, lobster-faced and sweating.

That voice is the defining characteristic of the Walkmen, and it was front and center at this show, as it is on the Walkmen’s recent album, You & Me. The band opened the show with that album’s “New Country,” a great song with only vocals and echoey guitar. Even when the other instruments kicked in for the rest of the night, it was a no-frills setup. There’s no wall of sound here, just each instrument playing its role in the whole while also remaining distinguishable. (Credit that to the sound guy, too.)

The band played a lot of new stuff, which was fine by me. “Canadian Girl” had a nice, very un-Canadian island vibe, and the horns on the ballad “Red Moon” were an essential, forlorn counterpoint to the keys and guitar; I never thought of the Walkmen evoking Calexico, but they did on that tune.

Some of the slower numbers began to drag a bit as the night went on, but the inclusion of “The Rat” gave the crowd a new burst of energy with its post-punk beat and insistent guitars propelling Leithauser’s scratchy howl. The song was also a reminder that the Walkmen can explore all sorts of styles, from post-punk to lazy island songs, yet still sound unmistakably like the Walkmen. Credit Leithauser again.

The band wasn’t consistently engaging all night, but I blame the venue more than the band. The Walkmen’s popularity, combined with music fans itching to get out of dark, electricity-deficient houses and apartments, made for a packed house, and that sucks at the Basement.

I remember that the first few times I went to at the Basement, I thought it was a great venue. Then I went to concerts that were better-attended, and the Basement’s absurdly awful sight lines obscured everything. Support joists obstruct views for all but about 50 people. And watching the band on the TV screens behind the bar is just a continual reminder of what you’re missing just a few yards away. This venue needs an extensive renovation to make big shows worth the price of admission for more than the people up front.

I don’t think I’d buy an album from Monday night’s opener, Golem, but the band sure was entertaining to watch (which I actually could, since there weren’t as many people there yet). The Brooklyn group played klezmer, a type of music that’s often played at Jewish weddings and other occasions where dancing is involved.

The musicians were all immensely talented—brass, violin, drums, upright bass and accordion—and the songs were all in Yiddish, but the band often provided quick summaries. Even without the synopses, it was quite apparent what was going on, especially when Aaron Diskin took lead vocals. The mustachioed Diskin, decked out in a ruffled pink shirt, acted out the emotions in caricature form, theatrically gesturing, laughing and crying when the song called for it.

Though not quite as gypsy or punk as Eugene Hutz’s merry band, fans of Gogol Bordello should take note. As should anyone looking for some good bar mitzvah music.

2008 music

Last year, lots of people said that 2007 was a down year for music. I tended to disagree, thinking that those people just weren't looking hard enough.

But man, so far 2008 is blowing away 2007. Each month another couple albums come out that make me completely reshuffle my mental Top Ten list. There's been some great Columbus releases (Miranda Sound, Times New Viking, Our Cat Philip, Two Cow Garage), newer artists breaking through (Bon Iver, The Uglysuit, Frightened Rabbit), and to top it off, several artists from my top 25 of 2007 list have come out with records this year that are just as good, if not better than the '07 releases (Okkervil River, Blitzen Trapper).

So I guess I'm eating my words. 2007 was a little weak. But 2008 is more than making up for it.

Ra Ra Riot - The Basement, 9/9

I figured I’d enjoy the Ra Ra Riot show at the Basement Tuesday night just fine. I thought I’d walk away from the show thinking the band’s polite pop songs would result in a pleasant enough experience, but nothing to exclaim about.

Instead, I was completely surprised by Ra Ra Riot’s terrific live show. The Syracuse six-piece transformed the Basement’s stage into a living, breathing organism. All of the band’s inexorable energy existed only to serve the songs, and it created a collective charisma that was impossible to look away from.

Part of that magnetic force was due to cellist Alexandra Lawn and violinist Rebecca Zeller, neither of whom ever felt superfluous. Aurally, their gorgeous chamber contributions were not merely flourishes but essential components of nearly every song. Visually, the women anchored each side of the stage, their fluid movements an organic product of the music.

There’s some obvious overlap with Vampire Weekend on Ra Ra Riot’s debut, The Rhumb Line, which came out last month. (The two bands are apparently chummy, too.) Singer Wes Miles even sounds strikingly like VW’s Ezra Koenig at times, especially on “St. Peter’s Day Festival.” But Ra Ra Riot has far surpassed its preppy friends when it comes to a live performance.

Miles proved his smooth tenor wasn’t doctored up in the studio, either. It’s a little more yelpy live, but that didn’t hurt things. I would have liked to hear some of Lawn’s vocal contributions, too, but unfortunately her mic was virtually inaudible the entire night.

It was a well-attended show, especially for a Tuesday night, and the crowd responded especially well to “Ghost Under Rocks,” which Miles said was “the first single.” It was a good tune, but the “single” designation could have gone to any number of the band’s songs. The post-punk drumbeats, Sting-ish bass lines and tastefully sparse guitar ensured each song’s groove was a foot-tapper. The volume and intensity of the drums also gave the live songs more urgency than their album counterparts.

“Oh La,” “Too Too Too Fast” and “Can You Tell” were particularly compelling, as was “Dying Is Fine,” though that one has also felt haunting ever since the band’s original drummer and co-founder, John Ryan Pike, went missing after a party in Rhode Island last summer and was later found dead. The song’s lyrics are mostly taken from the e.e. cummings poem of the same name: “Death, oh baby/You know that dying is fine, but maybe/I wouldn’t like death if death were good.”

Ironically, the most cathartic song of the bunch was one the band didn’t write. The Kate Bush cover “Suspended in Gaffa” got a wonderful string treatment on the chorus, while cymbal crashes punctuated the purging. The song revealed the rare balance that Ra Ra Riot has managed to strike: The band is sincere without being haughty, emotional without being gushy and dramatic without being theatrical.

mp3: Ra Ra Riot - Suspended in Gaffa

(also at The Other Paper)

Rocktober

The number of bands coming to Columbus in October is unreal, so there's no excuse not to get out and see some shows this fall. (Unless you get horribly injured. That would be a good excuse.) Atomic Ned made a handy list of some of the highlights here. And that doesn't even include shows at Bourbon St., the Summit or Carabar. (The only advance Bobo show I know of right now is The Antlers on Oct. 5.)

The Verve - Forth

With the release of Forth, it must seem like the Verve is doing something right for a change, after having so many things go wrong.

The UK band, led by self-styled rock star Richard Ashcroft, faced career sabotage several times. After releasing a debut album to critical success in the early ’90s, the band got in trouble for trashing hotel rooms, then got in legal trouble from an American label with the same name. All the while, the band was said to be heavily drugged, which led to a split after the next album.

Then, after reuniting with indispensable guitarist Nick McCabe, the Verve came out with Urban Hymns, the 1997 album you no doubt remember from the still ubiquitous single "Bitter Sweet Symphony." But the international hit, with its string sample looped into oblivion, brought more legal action. The band split again.

And now, 10 years later, the Verve has reunited and given us some new psychedelic, symphonic pop songs. It’s genius planning, too, whether intentional or not. If Forth had come out a year or two after Urban Hymns, people probably would have said the Verve was just retreading the same path it had traveled before, but not as successfully. After all, any album that comes after a hit as gigantic as "Bitter Sweet Symphony" feels like a letdown to the masses.

Now, though, anything by the Verve sounds downright nostalgic (we won’t count Ashcroft’s dismal solo offerings). With extraordinarily high cheekbones intact, Ashcroft still looks the part, too. It’s easy to say, "I remember these guys. They had some good tunes. I’m glad they’re back."

But it’s a trap. Don’t fall for it. The majority of this album is, to use a culturally appropriate term, rubbish.

The Verve’s fourth (get it?) record has little to match some of Urban Hymns’ best, like "Sonnet" and "The Drugs Don’t Work." The eight-minute "Noise Epic" has Ashcroft delivering spoken-word ramblings amid dreamy, shoegaze atmospherics with a buzzy epilogue tacked on the end instructing listeners to "wake up." There’s some noise in there for sure, but epic? Nah.

The radio-ready first single "Love Is Noise" strives to be both edgy and huge, a tough tightrope. The verses lament the overarching ills of modern society ("Will those feet in modern times, walk on soles made in China?") while the built-for-a-stadium chorus laments the pitfalls of love ("Love is noise/Love is pain/Love is these blues that I’m singing again"). The song has a great beat, and it seems like it should be an anthemic call to arms, but with each spin the aftertaste feels more bitter and less sweet.

As much flak as Coldplay gets for complementing its artistic arena rock with lyrics that don’t always penetrate, Ashcroft could stand to take a few lessons from Chris Martin. The platitudinous songwriting is like a low-carb version of Coldplay Lite. Take "Valium Skies": "She got all I need, yeah the air I breathe/And when it comes to my Valium skies, she don’t mind if I cry."

"Judas" is the Verve’s attempt at a U2 song, complete with interspersed falsetto and pretty strings laying the base with understated, delayed guitar riffs. There’s even religious imagery. Sounds good, right? Ah, but again, those words. This line was the most egregious to my ears: "New York, I was Judas. She said a latte, double shot for Judas."

Forth also reeks of Ashcroft’s rock-star posturing. Even the cover depicts sun rays and clouds that should signal a triumphant return. But the only thing that shines through is a realization that 10 years after the Verve’s breakthrough into popular culture, dozens of bands have altered the group’s recipe to create works that far surpass their forefathers’ efforts.

Also at The Other Paper