Ryan Adams, LC, 10/25

Ryan Adams used to be a heroine/cocaine/alcohol junkie, and now he’s sober. He has also garnered the reputation of being an arrogant jerk, but it was always hard to know if this was a result of the stimulants or if it was his real personality. The sold-out show at the LC last Thursday only muddied the water.

For the first part of the concert, Adams barely acknowledged the audience, but about halfway through the three-and-a-half-hour set, he angrily started spouting off about someone repeatedly requesting “Come Pick Me Up,” a fan favorite about a failed relationship in which a woman stole a bunch of the singer’s records. “However many beers you have between songs won’t make that song fly out of my ass,” he said. “I appreciate that you’re a hardcore fan, but it’s not gonna (expletive) happen.” There was more, and it was annoying, obnoxious and completely uncalled for, especially since the audience appeared to be mostly respectful. It seemed sobriety had not softened the alt-country rocker.

But then, after the next song (“Wildflowers”), something astounding happened. He apologized. Well, sort of. He apologized for lashing out, but then went on to explain the justification for his outburst. Still, the reasoning made some sense. Ryan Adams isn’t just Ryan Adams anymore. The band is Ryan Adams and the Cardinals--his solo days, he said, are over. Though he still played some older tunes, Adams doesn’t want to be that guy anymore, and it was apparent he really loves his band. The set list included almost all of the band’s most recent (and excellent) album, Easy Tiger, and plenty from Cold Roses and Jacksonville City Nights. The guys have an obvious chemistry onstage, anticipating each note their comrades play.

On the flip side, this zen-like chemistry led to jamming. Lots of jamming. Instrumental breakdowns here and there are fine, but on this night Adams and his Cardinals felt the need to jam a little too much and a little too often. Adams is a brilliant, fecund songwriter, serving up alt-country gems at an inhuman rate with seemingly little effort, and too many musical interludes can ruin the artfully crafted tunes. It’s not that the band can’t play well--Adams is a superb guitarist, as is lead player Neal Casal--it just needs an editor.

Plenty of songs did feel truly inspired. “Two” was one of the best, as was the uptempo rocker “Shakedown on 9th Street.” A more mellow version of “Oh My God, Whatever, Etc.” sounded and looked perfect bathed in the blue lights. “Meadowlake Street,” the first song after a 10-minute smoke break around 11 pm, showcased the band members’ individual strengths, and Adams’ voice just seemed to get stronger as the set went on. To sing that well for that long is something to be admired. “Dear John,” which on Jacksonville City Nights is a boring duet with Norah Jones, sounded the way it should have been recorded, with Casal singing the harmony with more gusto than Jones.

At the request of Adams, the bar was closed during the show, which a doorman said had never happened in the 11 years he’d been there, and I’m sure it made some beer-thirsty folks pretty grumpy to have the singer’s sobriety imposed upon them as well. The doorman also mentioned that Adams required the venue’s employees to leave during soundcheck, which falls into the still-a-jerk category. He wasn’t all serious and pompous, though. Adams dedicated “Rescue Blues” to Albert Einstein, whom he referred to as “Spooky E,” and he also composed a funny impromptu tune advising Mick Jagger not to make another solo record. Actually, I guess that is sort of obnoxious, but the humor factor wins out.

The show began around 8:30 and didn’t end till midnight. I’m pretty sure it was the longest concert I’ve ever attended. Complaints about the length of the show are valid, but only because the jamming was excessive. Factoring that in, there was still about two-and-a-half hours of near-brilliance, and that’s more than you get from most concerts. About half the crowd was still in attendance toward the end, but security loosened up and let most folks filter down to the front, so it felt like a club show as the concert drew to a close.

As he left the stage, Adams, always vacillating between agitator and appeaser, complimented the audience.

Would he even need the horse bit?

I saw this on Andy Whitman's blog, who got it from this guy's blog, but I just couldn't help reposting it. I can't verify that it came from an actual coloring book... but it probably did!

Jimmy Eat World - Chase This Light

Jimmy Eat World’s 1999 album, Clarity, has become a landmark album in emo circles and has inadvertently christened the band as torchbearers of the genre (in its modern definition). I say inadvertently, because the band never really intended to be a representative of any genre, and Jimmy Eat World isn’t all that emo anymore, as evidenced by 2004’s darker Futures, and now with Chase This Light.

But even when the band did its emotional punk thing, it was a cut above the rest. These days, the vast majority of emo/pop punk put out by kids with swooped haircuts sounds derivative, contrived and cloying. Jimmy Eat World always got lumped into that scene for its heart-on-your-sleeve lyrics, but the band has consistently put out better albums and retained a sense of maturity its younger followers haven’t seemed to master. Even Bleed American, the album that thrust the band into the mainstream with singles “The Middle” and “Sweetness,” was a strong showing, other than the former single.

Aside from a couple of ballads and punky numbers, Chase This Light is more power pop than anything, especially album opener “Big Casino,” an anthem with a great hook that speeds along quickly to help you forget the uplifting-in-a-Hallmark-kind-of-way lyrics: “Get up, get up/Dance on the ceiling/Get up, get up/Boy you must be dreaming/Rock on young savior/Don't give up your hopes.” Or try a sample from “Carry You”: When I know I'm all alone/I say your name slowly/And I know that I'm alone/But I'll carry you.“ Optimistic platitudes like these are repeated throughout the album. You’ve gotta give the band credit for crafting tasty pop tunes, and the album as a whole certainly has more depth to it than, say, a Simple Plan record, but plumbing the depths won’t turn up anything that hasn’t been said before, and better. “Electable (Give It Up)” delves into vague political territory, a call to action for us to embrace independence and voice dissent. It’s an earnest plea, but it evokes high-school freshman poetry.

For Chase This Light, Jimmy Eat World enlisted the help of producer and Garbage drummer Butch Vig, who’s responsible for classics such as Nirvana’s Nevermind and the Smashing Pumpkins’ Gish. Vig is usually lauded for refining and repackaging Nirvana’s raw sound, but on this record he goes a little overboard. The whole thing is entirely overproduced--no stray notes anywhere and no surprises. Digital hand claps abound, as do glam-metal-style shouts of “Hey!” Oh Oh!” and “Ahhh!” There are lots of layered, distorted guitars, but no guitars that sound rough or dirty. The high-gloss sheen gives it a pretty sterile sound.

Chase This Light probably should have been released four months ago--it has a distinct bright, summery feel. So if you’re in the mood for cruising along to some catchy sunroof rock on an abnormally warm fall day, the new Jimmy Eat World ain’t a bad option. Just don’t listen too closely.

Dylan/Costello review

Online here.

Wilco with Andrew Bird, Wexner Center, 10-16

Wilco did not disappoint last night, playing songs spanning the band's entire catalog and rocking for more than two hours. Tweedy was his laid-back, funny, captivating self, decked out in a big white suit with sparkly roses. But guitarist Nels Cline almost stole the show. His spastic, herky-jerky guitar playing was awe-inducing, an exercise in passion and precision. Wilco has three very capable guitar players, but Cline is a real virtuoso. Highlights for me were "I Am Trying to Break Your Heart," "Handshake Drugs," "Airline to Heaven" and "Shot in the Arm." I hope they come back soon. A few more pics at the bottom.

Andrew Bird opened up. Bird's an odd... bird, but entertaining. He played solo and didn't quite have the loop-pedal thing down, so he had to restart a couple songs. But I liked his commentary on the mistakes, describing one screw-up as "discovering a different universe."

So I'm finally finished with everything for the next issue of The Other Paper. Phew. Reviews on Thursday will include Smashing Pumpkins, Bob Dylan/Elvis Costello, Wilco and Radiohead's In Rainbows. I'm spent.

Bob Dylan, Elvis Costello - Schottenstein Center, 10/13

Other than introducing his band Saturday night, Bob Dylan didn’t say a word to the crowd gathered at the Schottenstein Center. This isn’t rare for Dylan, and it actually makes sense. When you’re an American icon/legend/cultural revolutionary who’s now 66 years old, what’s left to say? Working on my review of the show, the same question has been tugging at my own brain. The review is necessary, of course, because Bob Dylan came to town, and one can’t ignore a concert like that. And yet, it’s also completely unnecessary because, really, what’s left to say? I won’t pretend to add anything groundbreaking to the vast amount of analytical praise that has been heaped upon Dylan over the years, but from a practical standpoint, just know this: He’s still worth seeing.

Elvis Costello was similarly captivating, filling the arena with just his voice and a guitar. His stage presence commanded attention, and though it was a short set, it was filled with some of his most well-known and loved tunes: "Alison," "Veronica," "(The Angels Wanna Wear My) Red Shoes," and "(What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love & Understanding." Costello doesn't carry with him quite the level of cultural importance as Dylan, but it's hard to deny the sense of history he brings to the stage. He still seems relevant to me.

Smashing Pumpkins, LC, 10-11

Billy Corgan has always been a great frontman, with or without James Iha and D'arcy. Last night's show was heavy on the Zeitgeist material with a few too many instrumental lulls, but it showed that Corgan has brought back the Pumpkins' rock-and-roll mentality. Although I was wishing for more Siamese Dream material than "Today" and "Hummer," the band put on a great show and made me realize I don't just like Smashing Pumpkins for nostalgic reasons. Review coming in The Other Paper next week.