en http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/uk/ Thu, 1 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 Thu, 1 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 60 http://www.audioscrobbler.net/data/webservices http://www.last.fm/user/audiozealot/journal The Last.fm journal for audiozealot. Last.fm journals are a place to talk about all things music. http://www.last.fm/user/audiozealot/journal/2011/04/21/4cbb9c_interview:_the_silent_comedy Thu, 21 Apr 2011 17:31:19 +0000 http://www.last.fm/user/audiozealot/journal/2011/04/21/4cbb9c_interview:_the_silent_comedy I am particularly fascinated by certain sociological characteristics of rock and roll bands – the nomadic lifestyle, the personal and working relationships behind the creativity, and the inspirations that drive that creativity. There is another pattern of interest- a correlation between a devoted and deeply connected fan base with a band’s ability to use principles of religious congregation in the writing and delivery of their music. I’m not talking about a particular denomination or belief, but rather, a mastery in rallying a community together, inspiring a feeling of belonging, and facilitating that cathartic release of energy at a rock show that parallels the historic use of religion for that function.

Going into my interview with San Diego-based band The Silent Comedy, I knew they had a unique insight into these three themes – a nomadic existence, a sense of broader community, and integration of music and religion – that long preceded their life as a working band. On a sunny day in Santa Barbara, brothers and band founders Joshua and Jeremiah Zimmerman sat with me in the park and shared some of the profound life experiences that shaped their worldview, and now offers layers of depth to their songwriting craft.

Jeremiah and Joshua, sons of a Pentecostal minister, spent their early years in Orange County, California. When Joshua was 12 and Jeremiah was 15, their parents sold all possessions and uprooted the family to South Asia to pursue missionary work and to scout a location to open a holistic medicine clinic. For two years, the brothers and their parents, along with another family, lived out of backpacks, moving from India, Nepal, Thailand, and then on to parts of Europe and the United States. I asked them to talk to me a bit about how those experiences shaped them as songwriters and as travelling performers.

Jeremiah: It was a very strange experience to have at that age, not doing anything in a permanent way, getting rid of everything and just becoming vagabonds for a while. Some places we would roll in and leave the next day, some places we would stay for months. And the bug for touring came from that. I am happiest when on the road.

Joshua: We became completely placeless and we made peace with the fact that we were not going to see any of our friends. You really become kind of anchorless. And that is something that people have said about our music.

When asked whether the musical traditions of the places they visited had an influence on the sound of the Silent Comedy:

Joshua: It wasn’t necessarily the musical traditions of where ever we were, but it was more of a feeling. And also just the dark aspects – our outlook on the world changed drastically when we went on that trip. To go from an affluent upper-class area to having no possessions, being on the streets of Calcutta… I don’t think I had ever seen a dead person before. We went to Mother Theresa’s Home for the Dying and they were carrying a body out when we arrived. Kids on the street without jawbones (a deformity of malnourishment) would hold on to your clothes, begging for money.

Jeremiah: And there were some situations that felt hostile. We were in Dehradun (India) during elections and people were getting killed on Election Day, and there was just a lot of tension. At a young age to experience that, it changes you fundamentally. The difference between being aware of the things that are going on in other parts of the world when you are in the States, versus experiencing it firsthand – you realize the enormity of problems that exist in places where everyday life is [wondering] “will I make it through today?” So that did influence our sound, I think, just experiencing that that kind of uncertainty in the environment around us.

Joshua: Coming back to Orange County, it was tough to acclimate. We were a bit removed… you know, we’ve always been weird. We see in our music now; we just can’t embrace the norms of subject matter that people write about, like love songs. We can try to write love songs but they come out a little warped.

Part of the “placeless” feel of the songs in the Silent Comedy catalog is that they conjure imagery of migratory characters from a different time in American history, notably late 19th/ early 20th Century – Wild West prospectors, Prohibition-era bootleggers, Vaudeville performers, and traveling preachers. So where does this imagery come from?

Jeremiah: Our dad was a minister in the Assemblies of God, a Southern Pentecostal denomination and so the whole tent-revival-snake-handling stuff – they weren’t as crazy as that - but still in that tradition. So we grew up in that environment.

Joshua: We try to get to deep human issues in songwriting, like the dirtiness of humanity mixed with the desire for redemption. The tent revival thing was huge during the Great Depression. So when we think of the events that evoke those forces in the world, we naturally go back in time because to sing about the grinding pressures of life, its not that you missed your morning latte, it is more about immediate survival.

On writing songs that are imaginative storytelling vs. autobiographical:

Joshua: I always thought it was a really cool thing to write songs that are totally in character. [“Exploitation” from the perspective of a sexual victim] is about the human trafficking trade. My dad is involved in an organization to stop human trafficking and I was interested in the work that they do. I read case studies on their website and that song came out as a way of kind of purging my brain from the horrific details from those case studies.

Joshua: Some songs, you take what has happened in your life and you put it in a fictional context, because sometimes it’s easier to not be as confessional. Like the song “49” is a real personal situation transposed into a situation that occurs during the Gold Rush.

Jeremiah: I think some vagueness is good. I don’t ever want to be so specific (in autobiographical songwriting) that I am the only one who can relate what I’m talking about.

In addition to Jeremiah (piano) and Joshua (bass), who are the primary vocalists of the band, the Silent Comedy is also comprised of Justin Buchanan (banjo and mandolin), Chad Lee (percussion), and Tim Graves (Guitar and Harmonica). Their live show, probably best described by Joshua as a “whiskey-fueled tent revival,” is a boisterous dancing-stomping-shouting celebration that leaves the crowd feeling like participants, not just spectators. An appreciation for showmanship and inclusiveness, which the brothers acquired from years of attending Pentecostal tent revivals, shines through in the Silent Comedy’s live performance.

Jeremiah: Being raised in that kind of church environment where the crowd is involved and everyone is participating and raising their hands, it was always a pet peeve of mine at rock shows when the cool kids would be standing there with their arms crossed. If you’re going to be there and be into music, just drop the act, get into it, be a little foolish. If people are going to come out to see us, we have got to be worth seeing, and I think that some of those early (tent revival) experiences inspired that. That kind of showmanship, those traveling preacher types are great at that.

Joshua: It’s one thing to see a band whip people into frenzy, it’s even more incredible to watch a single guy, without a band, whip people into frenzy. There is a lot of force behind it. If we had been brought up in a different religious tradition, we would have a different approach to it. In Catholicism or Anglicanism, people come to sit and observe and hear someone talk, but in Pentecostalism people don’t come to observe. It gets chaotic and energetic. People come to have an experience, and that is what we bring to the music.

The Silent Comedy indeed delivers a phenomenal live experience, and I came away from it with an overarching feeling inclusiveness. It was as if their sound was the equivalent of outstretched arms, beckoning the crowd closer so that we could all, collectively, stomp harder and sing louder. Many bands, probably without realizing it, erect a wall between them the audience, a division between performer and spectator. I found the Silent Comedy to be refreshingly accessible, both in conversation and also as performers. They clearly operate under the philosophy that they are part of a greater community that includes the new faces of each town they visit. It is no surprise that they are collecting new loyal and devoted fans with every live show.

I may be a heathen, but I’ll worship in the house of the Silent Comedy any day of the week. And twice on Sunday.

-AZ

The Silent Comedy]]> http://www.last.fm/user/audiozealot/journal/2011/02/09/47kemu_the_white_stripes. Wed, 9 Feb 2011 22:22:31 +0000 http://www.last.fm/user/audiozealot/journal/2011/02/09/47kemu_the_white_stripes. Since the White Stripes announced their break up last week, I have struggled to find the words to celebrate what that band has meant to rock and roll over the last decade, and what it has meant to me personally. It feels inappropriate to eulogize a band in which the dominant personality, Jack White, continues to prolifically make music in other bands. Further, in band eulogy it is commonplace to overstate artistic genius. While Jack White is a mad genius of sorts, the White Stripes were flawed, and they purposely strived for imperfection. Fortunately, they came into our lives at a time when a resurgence of dirty imperfection in rock an roll was sorely needed, and that is why they are often credited as modern saviors of rock.

To appreciate fans’ heartsick reaction to word that Jack and Meg White would no longer make music together, one must recall the bleak landscape of rock and roll when the Stripes emerged on the music scene. By the late 1990’s, popular music had become a homogenized mess of boy bands, pop tarts, and whatever awful category of music includes Creed, Limp Bizkit, and Linkin Park. Record labels had seemingly hijacked artistic freedom, and music making was reduced to a formulaic process that left little variation in finished product. Everything new and emerging at the time felt fake, dishonest, and shallow. Fans of grittier guitar and drum-driven rock relied on new releases from old favorites, bands who had emerged in a different time and had managed to hold on to their creative integrity.

Then came along the White Stripes, a duo that shocked every sensibility accustomed to the tidy, glossy, buffed and polished state of music at the turn of the millennium. Meg and Jack - a drummer of basic skill and simplicity, and a guitar master with a raw and grating vocal - were anything but polished. But their calling card of a simple drum beat as the backdrop to killer guitar riff – an obvious formula that had been dormant for too long – was the freshest sound the world of rock music had heard in years. The simplicity of the White Stripes – two people with homegrown style, making heartfelt blues-rock, without back-up singers, dancers, and entourages – offered a stark realization of how so many musical acts had lost focus of what is most important: the music.

In previous post, I expressed my gratitude for the White Stripes and the pivotal role they played for me as a music fan. Prior to my introduction to them, I was stuck in (mostly) a classic rock rut, listening to the same music I had loved for years, made decades before. I felt hopeless that a band from my generation would come along and live up to the songwriting integrity of the music I was raised on. I have said before that my journey as a music fan thus far can be divided into two eras: before I discovered the White Stripes and after I discovered them (specifically, that line drawn from first listen to the “Elephant” album). They were the bridge that linked my love of classic rock, including Led Zeppelin and Bob Dylan, to a new period of music discovery that has come since that first listen to “Elephant.” Simply put, the White Stripes were the first band to come along that made me believe in my own generation of music makers.

It wasn’t just the music that made the White Stripes so intriguing. It was a dichotomy between the brash, honest, in-your-face quality to their sound, and the enigmatic image in which Jack and Meg presented themselves to the world. A divorced couple, claiming to be siblings, they had an on-stage chemistry that was hard to pinpoint as familial, friendly, or outright sexual. Meg’s painfully shy demeanor in interviews, her inability to look up from behind a curtain of hair and a voice so inaudible that she required subtitles, gave the viewer the uncomfortable feeling that she was not a participant by her own free will. Contrast with Jack, part bluesman prodigy, part cunning businessman, driven, eccentric, provocative, perhaps even a bit tyrannical. To witness their public interaction begged the question “What the hell goes on with those two behind closed doors?” Image and interpersonal dynamics are always a component of fan interest in a band, and the White Stripes remain a mystery in that regard.

As Jack and Meg White end their career together, they leave as their legacy a few important lessons and reminders: 1) With imagination and the right equipment, two people are capable of captivating audiences at the world’s largest venues and rocking harder than most bands two or three times their size. 2) Cool is a premium in this industry, and the coolest thing a band can be is enigmatic. There is a fine line between keeping fans interested and sharing too much, and the White Stripes leave current and future fans puzzled by their eccentricity as a duo. 3) Sometimes rock and roll is a dish best served raw, and all of the imperfections in a live experience – a guitar slightly out of tune or a note sung off key – assert that human error is preferable to technological perfection.

And so, the book on the White Stripes is closed and put on the shelf. While Jack continues with a number of projects, the reclusive Meg may slip off into hiding, only coaxed out now and again to appear as a guest in the studio or on stage. But the core philosophies of the White Stripes live on, both through Jack White’s ongoing projects, and in new bands that have and will been inspired by the Stripes. In the history of rock and roll, we can peg their influence on the genre right up there among the greats.

-AZ
The White Stripes]]> http://www.last.fm/user/audiozealot/journal/2010/12/31/44qgos_my_most_played_albums_of_2010 Fri, 31 Dec 2010 03:06:49 +0000 http://www.last.fm/user/audiozealot/journal/2010/12/31/44qgos_my_most_played_albums_of_2010 This humble website is a diary, the place where I document the music that gets under my skin and leaves a lasting impression in my heart and mind. Therefore, as 2010 comes to a close, I feel compelled to discuss the albums that got the most play this year at Casa de AZ. This is not a compilation of the best albums released this year, but you will find plenty of those from various music magazines and bloggers.

This is not a "Best Of" list because I do not enjoy reviewing albums; the critical dissection of an album's components tends to take the fun out of the listening experience. But also, I do not believe that an album must be perfectly written or flawlessly produced to become a meaningful soundtrack to a time and place in your life. Rather, an album can become special to the listener for a various subjective reasons; perhaps it plays background to joyful times spent with people you love, or offers comfort during anxious or troubled times. So, with that, I give you the albums that made up my 2010 soundtrack. Some I consider near perfection, others… let’s just say were perfectly imperfect. Each of them found a place in my mind, some a place in my heart, and a few will still stay with me for many years to come.

Two albums this year stood apart from the rest, and it comes as no surprise that those two albums are popping up on all the rock critics’ year-end lists. One album offered the ideal blues-rock soundtrack to a sunny day barbecue and drinks with friends, and turned a long-established-but-little-known working band an instant household name (The Black Keys). The other highly acclaimed album once again verified that the world’s biggest indie band continues to bleed out thought-provoking themes with passion and integrity (Arcade Fire). Those albums were a cut above the rest.

Most of the albums I enjoyed this year were met with lukewarm reception by critics and have not been featured prominently on year-end lists. To be perfectly honest, despite keeping them in heavy rotation throughout the year, I admit to my own less-than-totally-awestruck reaction to a few of them. But love and loyalty – to a voice or to a style – kept me playing them again and again. One near and dear band produced the soundtrack to my Summer 2010 road trips (The Gaslight Anthem), while another album was a highly anticipated solo effort to which I was sentimentally attached before the very first play (Brandon Flowers). One album, a sophomore effort, did not stack up to the artist’s debut, but her talent and wordsmith ability kept me listening anyway (Laura Marling).

Fortunately, the year introduced me to a number of new bands that caught my attention and made me excited for future releases. A couple of newcomers produced catchy “retro” albums that put a refreshing spin on decades-old music genres by including brass and organs to their sound, one in the style of 1940’s big-band (April Smith and the Last Picture Show) and the other channeling a 1960’s Motown sound (Fitz & the Tantrums). Another new favorite dealt out gritty blues-garage rock with catchy hooks and harmony (TAB the Band). A criminally harsh rating from Pitchfork - the most cynical online publication in the music world - piqued my interest in one new band (Mumford & Sons). As I anticipated, that album’s greatest crime was its overtly romantic themes and overuse of the words “soul,” “love,” “heart,” and meteorological metaphors. I, however, found those flaws to be endearing and beautiful. Lastly, came the “dark horse” album, swooping up my attention in this final month of the year and dominating my holiday playlist with it’s grabbing intro song and surprisingly coherent mix of post-punk, indie, folk, and soul genres throughout the album (Transfer).

A year ago, I had never heard of half of the bands that turned out my most played new album releases. Therefore, 2010 was year of discovery, and I hope that many of the bands that made up my year’s soundtrack have the staying power to continue to produce great new music in the future. It is exciting to think of the new talent that 2011 may bring; as with the start of each new year, I eagerly await to be sonically amazed.

My 2010 Most Played Albums:

1. Brothers, The Black Keys
2. The Suburbs, Arcade Fire
3. American Slang, Gaslight Anthem
4. Songs for a Sinking Ship, April Smith and the Last Picture Show
5. Zoo Noises, TAB the Band
6. Sigh No More, Mumford & Sons
7. Flamingo, Brandon Flowers
8. I Speak Because I Can, Laura Marling
9. Pickin’ Up the Pieces, Fitz and the Tantrums
10. Future Selves, Transfer

-AZ]]> http://www.last.fm/user/audiozealot/journal/2010/10/12/3z3hvy_why_arcade_fire_is_worthy_of_all_that_praise Tue, 12 Oct 2010 03:51:54 +0000 http://www.last.fm/user/audiozealot/journal/2010/10/12/3z3hvy_why_arcade_fire_is_worthy_of_all_that_praise I finally saw for myself, and all I had heard was true; Arcade Fire is indeed extraordinary. They deserve every accolade that each new album, each breathtaking live performance, yields. Whatever one may feel about their sound, they are, irrefutably, a band that stands head and shoulders above contemporaries in quality of artistic expression and the pure joy that radiates from their stage performance. While their songs document the angst of a generation, their live performance reminds us that life happens in this exhilarating moment, as we sing and dance with friends and strangers.

Sometimes blatantly, sometimes inadvertently, rock and pop music provide a cultural account of a given time and place. Some popular music serves only for entertainment, providing escape and frivolity, while offering clues about the collective mindset of a particular time (think Disco). But, it is the music that is purposeful in its social documentation that we typically consider “art.” Artists survey the cultural landscape, challenge us to face what we may instinctively turn from, and create beautiful and poetic starting points for discussion. Remarkably, Arcade Fire does not sacrifice any of the entertainment value of their music by filling it with provocative themes. They successfully marry the frivolous and the somber, the whimsical and the weighty, becoming this generation’s most socially conscience “art” band in which people actually want to listen.

With the release of Arcade Fire’s third album, The Suburbs, they have solidified themselves as the rock and roll documentarians of this era. The band has packed more meaningful commentary into a single album than most artists convey in a lifetime of work. It is stunning, honest, and heartbreakingly pinpoints the collective anxiety of a generation that is economically unsettled and missing a sense of community in the midst of a hyper-connected digital age.

As someone who came into social and political awareness before social media networks became our communication, before the 24-hour news cycle became our information, and before reality television became our entertainment, I understand the sentiment conveyed by lyricist Win Butler on this album. He indirectly asks these questions: Have we lost our attention span for thoughtful discourse (“We Used to Wait”)? Have computers stripped us of meaningful human connection with one another (“Deep Blue”)? Is a cultural gap between the “modern kids” and older cohorts widening (“Rococo”)?

I use to write. I used to write letters. I used to sign my name. I used to sleep at night before the flashing lights settled deep in my brain. –“We Used To Wait”

Often presented as a foreboding dream - the word “dream” occurs consistently throughout the album - songs follow themes of lonely detachment in the modern age, environmental doom, the decay of the middle class suburbs, and a longing for a simpler era. Even though the album alludes to profound concerns about the direction we are heading, it is written from a personal voice and an inclusive viewpoint. Therefore, it does not come off in the least bit preachy or self-righteous. It is observational, even confessional, and the sadness and longing in the songs precludes it from feeling activist or political.

Can you understand why I want a daughter while I’m still young? I want to hold her hand and show her some beauty before this damage is done. –“The Suburbs”

The shift in tone from the Neon Bible album to The Suburbs, with respect the theme of capitalist greed, is notable. Released in 2007 to a climate of mounting frustration with Bush-era politics, Neon Bible was a call to arms for the citizenry to wise up to, among other things, the dangerous marriage of government and big business. I would not label Arcade Fire an activist band, but there was unmistakable anger and frustration in Neon Bible, with traces of finger pointing. However, the introspective nature of the new album suggests that Win Butler no longer relates to the problems he sees from the outsider perspective he took on Neon Bible. It would seem that maturity and a few years of self-reflection between albums has led him to take ownership of the problems around him, even if they are not his alone to bear. Ultimately, this makes the message more relatable.

You never trust a millionaire quoting the Sermon on the Mount. I used to think I was not like them but I'm beginning to have my doubts. –“City With No Children”

For all the seriousness embedded in Arcade Fire songs, their live show is the most joyful outpouring of energy I have witnessed, both by the band and from the audience. Looking down at the stage, it seemed like the band members were bright and colorful wind-up dolls, dancing and playing with exaggerated whole-body movements. Each owned all parts of the stage as they switched instruments and remained dynamic throughout the entire set. Regine Chassagne is particularly magnetic in stage presence, as too is Will Butler; both showing amazing energy as they played a multitude of instruments and danced around the stage (or in Will’s case, ran through the audience with his drum).

From the opening song until the unbelievable closer, “Wake Up,” the audience was on its feet chanting the words and clapping the beats. I had heard for years that an Arcade Fire show was a truly unique experience; what made it special was the feeling that those musicians wanted nothing more in that moment than to be playing for us. Arcade Fire is a band that clearly loves making music together, and they would be giving the same enthusiasm playing to a house full of guests as to a stadium full of concertgoers. It is not often that you walk away from a show feeling honored to have bared witness to a performance, but that is how I felt leaving the show that night.

I’ll leave you with links to a fantastic BBC Culture Show documentary on Arcade Fire, which includes live clips and an interview. It is a couple of years old, from the release of the Neon Bible album, but it is well made and really captures the spirit of the band. I hope you enjoy these watching this short documentary, and also hope you have the opportunity to catch their phenomenal live show!

-AZ

BBC The Culture Show Documentary
Part 1: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eOcIHA042aU&feature=related
Part 2: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nh8Cjc9KQVk&feature=related
Part 3: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=elzUsbd3HUI&feature=related
Part 4: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rPynM9aTd34&feature=related

Arcade Fire]]> http://www.last.fm/user/audiozealot/journal/2010/09/25/3xt99a_latest_earworm:_band_of_skulls Sat, 25 Sep 2010 02:37:33 +0000 http://www.last.fm/user/audiozealot/journal/2010/09/25/3xt99a_latest_earworm:_band_of_skulls Any name recognition that the English trio Band of Skulls has in the United States likely came last year when one of their songs was selected for the most recent Twilight movie soundtrack. Since I continue to ignore all things Twilight-related, I arrived late to discover this great rock and roll band. Instead, it was a 30 second sound bite for the new Ford Mustang commercial that piqued my interest and led me to Band of Skulls. Although the band name implies dark, gothic death metal, the likes of which only 15 year old misfits would enjoy, they actually have a classic guitar sound that ranges in genre from garage to blues rock, with nice variations in tempo throughout their debut album, Baby Darling Dollface Honey.

Band of Skulls is made up of Russell Marsden (guitar and vocals), Emma Richardson (bass and vocals), and Matt Hayward (drums). Marsden and Richardson share vocal responsibilities, both convincingly delivering hard-edged vocals on the faster songs and creating lush harmonies on the more tranquil songs. From start to finish, listeners will hear a mix of classic blues rock (Led Zeppelin, Hendrix, Rolling Stones) and contemporary garage rock (White Stripes, Yeah Yeah Yeahs) influences; songs range from drum and bass-heavy guitar riff tunes to sweet acoustic ballads. The vocal blend of male and female add rich depth, and even an eerie quality, to each song. Marsden and Richardson trade verses on the stompy “I Know What I Am” and meld harmonies tightly in “Fires.” “Honest” is a beautiful song that resembles some of Led Zeppelin’s delicate tunes, like “The Battle of Evermore.”

Band of Skulls are not stylistically reinventing the wheel, nor are their songs lyrically profound. Many of the lines are catchy but repetitive, and their sound is fairly derivative of the bands I mentioned earlier. But their arrangements, though familiar, still sound fresh and interesting, and the bottom line is that they are fun to listen to. They just may become your next favorite band to pop in the car stereo, roll down the windows, crank up the volume, and drive a little bit faster than you should.

-AZ

Band of Skulls]]> http://www.last.fm/user/audiozealot/journal/2010/08/20/3uudfg_brandon_flowers_live_at_the_troubadour Fri, 20 Aug 2010 03:21:15 +0000 http://www.last.fm/user/audiozealot/journal/2010/08/20/3uudfg_brandon_flowers_live_at_the_troubadour When I didn’t get a ticket to the Brandon Flowers show at the Troubadour in Los Angeles during the regular sale, I had come to terms with the fact that I would not be attending one of the five intimate shows he was playing in the U.S. to kick off his new solo album. The regular ticket sale sold out in minutes, and strict box office regulations enforcing that the purchaser of tickets must be present for entry, put a heavy damper on resale purchase options. So, when 5 hours prior to show time, a generous offer came my way – someone I’d never met had an extra ticket and was offering it to me at face value – I jumped at the chance to take it. Even though it meant I would drive two hours to Los Angeles with hopes that the too-good-to-be-true stranger was not flakey, creepy, crazy, or dangerous.

As I stood in line at the venue, with a surprising number of people in the same boat (waiting to see if tickets promised by strangers would actually come through), I realized that my practical, sensible self was at complete odds with the personality traits needed to make this experience enjoyable. All around me, bidding wars were happening . . . a ticket sold for $160, offers for $250, online price of $400, then came word that someone was asking $600 for one ticket on Craigslist. THIS WAS CRAZY!!! Was a total stranger really going to sell me my ticket at face value when the person in line right next to me was offering hundreds of dollars? The answer is YES, he did!!! Although he had been offered ten times the amount of face value, he showed up and honored our original agreement. I only detail my experience of getting inside the venue because, while some people thrive on this kind of hassle and anxiety about whether they will get into a show, I genuinely hate it. Had it not been a Killers/Flowers gig, I would not have been motivated to go under the circumstances.

Once inside the venue, I wondered why we had all gone to the trouble of waiting in line for doors to open. There was not a bad view in the house. While a painful, but mercifully short, opening comedy act was on stage the crowd was distracted by the knowledge that Flowers and his band were hanging out in the windowed room above us. He approached the window briefly and stepped away, causing the crowd to anxiously look up for him to appear again throughout the rest of the opening act. It was only a matter of minutes after the comedy act finished that Flowers, four musicians, and two back-up vocalists hit the small stage. They launched into a 10-song set that featured eight new songs, one Killers song, and a cover of “Bette Davis Eyes.”

Many of you reading this are Brandon Flowers fans, have been following coverage of his first shows, and probably seen videos. I can’t put into words anything that you have not seen for yourself on You Tube. You know that Flowers makes nervous and jittery comments between songs, and that he often clutches his heart and closes his eyes as if pleading that you believe every word he sings. You know that, as a slow burning song reaches a climactic end, he rocks aggressively forward and back on his feet. All of the quirks and characteristics of his performing style were magnified in a venue where furthest view was no more than 50 feet away. Perhaps because of that intimacy, the show had a mellower feel than a typical Killers show. Also, the new collection of songs are introspective and contemplative in theme, and that they were unfamiliar to the audience probably also contributed to a more reserved reception.

Flowers told Spin magazine this week that embarking on this solo effort has renewed his admiration for his band mates in the Killers. While watching the show (prior to the Spin article), I actually wondered if that was the case. A longtime Killers fan will not hear live versions of these songs without questioning how much stronger they would be with the full force of the Killers rhythm section behind them. After only two shows on the road, I realize that it is unfair to compare Flowers’ touring musicians to the eight years of experience the Killers have playing with each other. During the band hiatus, Flowers wanted to keep making music, and so he is starting from scratch after having years of phenomenal chemistry and live energy with the Killers. It can’t be easy for a self-proclaimed perfectionist.

One thing I now look forward to in a album release from Brandon Flowers is the “what the F*CK?” reaction that I inevitably have toward one of the new songs, when I think “this song is either very good or very bad, and I can’t tell which it is.” I never discount any of his songs outright because 9 out of 10 times, a song I disliked at first listen becomes likable, or even a favorite. This was the case for me with “Bones,” “Tidal Wave,” “Joyride,” and several other songs that I now adore. Flowers is a songwriter that experiments with the styles of his predecessors. Doing such does not always seem natural or fitting, but he nonetheless challenges fans to expand their musical palate and to expand their notion of the type of songwriter he is. So far, a song called “Swallow It” is the frontrunner for the “what the F*CK?” award this time around, and not only because of the title. It’s a bizarre Lou Reed-style song with an unusual cadence to the vocal. Perhaps 6 months from now it will be my favorite? It’s happened before.

In the meantime, there are many other songs on the upcoming album that are becoming fast favorites. “Jilted Lovers and Broken Hearts” is a classic Killers-style dance rock song with a great, catchy hook, and “Magdalena” is an upbeat tune with a hopeful and inspiring lyrical theme. “Hard Enough,” the beautiful, real-life love song, speaks to the challenges of keeping a long-term (and maybe long-distance) relationship in balance. It had stunning background vocals during the live show, and I am looking forward to the studio version of the song featuring Jenny Lewis on vocals. From Flamingo, I think we can expect a balance of both familiar and experimental styles.

Flowers remains one of my favorite live performers because he is earnest, heartfelt, and palpably vulnerable on stage. I am very grateful that I got to see him up close at the Troubadour, and want to again thank the good guy who offered me his ticket.

-AZ

Brandon Flowers, The Killers, Tue 17 Aug – Brandon Flowers]]> http://www.last.fm/user/audiozealot/journal/2010/07/27/3sxgj9_nico_vega%E2%80%99s_live_show_still_haunts_me Tue, 27 Jul 2010 17:35:15 +0000 http://www.last.fm/user/audiozealot/journal/2010/07/27/3sxgj9_nico_vega%E2%80%99s_live_show_still_haunts_me It has been more than a week since I paid a $10 door charge, walked into a largely empty venue, and became utterly captivated by Nico Vega’s amazing live show. The fury and intensity of the performance I witnessed that night left a lasting impression on me. The trio from LA made up of Dan Epand on drums, Rich Koehler on guitar, and Aja Volkman as lead vocalist, packs an astonishing amount of unbridled power. The on-stage chemistry between band members is a provocative mix of familial interaction and palpable sexuality. The fact that the crowd was small and subdued seemed not to matter. The band interacted with the crowd, with Aja talking, making eye contact, and grabbing hands of people in the front row. Yet it felt as if Nico Vega was performing for their own entertainment as much as for ours, and had they been in a living room alone, they would play with the same raw intensity.

As I watched Nico Vega perform, my sense of time and place dissolved. I felt transported by the occult-like nature of the stage theatrics. Aja’s eyes, wild and darting, arms flailing and pointing at the audience as she wailed in narration of their songs. She stomped and danced around stage barefoot in circles, as if participating in an ancient pagan ritual summoning the gods. The audience might feel the howling wrath of a woman possessed in one moment, and in the very next be enveloped by tender vocals and the welcoming smile of a maternal figure. All eyes transfixed on the captivating front woman to see what form she would take next. Watching the primal nature of Nico Vega’s performance left me feeling like I had fallen in a time portal and landed in an unknown past or future.

For as much intensity that was generated on the stage that night, the band looked like they were having a great time playing together. Aja would lean against Rich, dance around him, or sing to him, as he played his guitar. She also went behind the drum kit and picked up some sticks to play along with Dan. They were smiling throughout the show and visibly enjoying their time on stage.

It is pretty rare to come across a stage performance that is as compelling as what Nico Vega offers. I don’t own Nico Vega albums, and I am not greatly compelled to listen to the recorded versions of their songs. They are a band whose energy, sexuality, and guttural emotion come through in performance, with the visual aesthetics adding tremendously to their songs. I cannot understate the intensity of their live show; when they come back to perform to my town, I’ll be there.

Even if their music is not what you typically enjoy, I recommend catching their show if they come through your town. They will haunt you, in a very good way.

-AZ
Nico Vega]]> http://www.last.fm/user/audiozealot/journal/2010/07/16/3s0g43_catch_%E2%80%98em_on_the_rise:_tab_the_band Fri, 16 Jul 2010 04:54:51 +0000 http://www.last.fm/user/audiozealot/journal/2010/07/16/3s0g43_catch_%E2%80%98em_on_the_rise:_tab_the_band A couple of months ago, while wading through the muck of new band mediocrity in search of some good old raucous rock and roll, I finally stumbled on a goldmine: TAB the Band. The tip came from the Twitter music community, where I become introduced to many of the young bands that fly under the radar of major music publications but have talent that far surpasses most household-name acts. The tagline of TAB’s Twitter account reads “Rock is back… in the form of us.” Yes it is.

One of my favorite things about rock and roll is that is connects fans of different ages by a common love for the music. On many occasions, my knowledge and enthusiasm for older bands has served as my connection to other rock enthusiasts from generations not my own. No matter how many decades separate two rock fans, you can always find a hardy debate over the merits of one Beatles album over another. My initial thought upon first hearing TAB the Band (besides “damn, these guys rock!”) was that they have great potential for multi-generational appeal. Their music has a distinctively bluesy, classic rock sound but feels fresh in its arrangements and delivery. I was instantly hooked - and because TAB’s sound is reminiscent of 60’s and 70’s blues-rock bands like the Yardbirds and the Rolling Stones, I knew my parents would enjoy their music too. (Which they do.)

TAB the Band can probably most closely be compared to early Rolling Stones. It has the same dirty, bluesy garage sound that is pretty equally guitar and drum-driven. The vocal similarity of Adrian Perry to Mick Jagger, is also a factor in the similarity in sound. However, it is evident that their influences are broad. Songs with heavier bass and percussive tones hint at some punk influence, while other songs are a bit more folk-rooted, with a strong emphasis on vocal harmonies.

The band is made up of Adrian Perry on vocals and bass, Tony Perry and Lou Jannetty on guitars, and Ben Tileston on drums. Not only do they make great music, TAB is admirably navigating their career under “double edged sword” circumstances: brothers Adrian and Tony Perry are sons of Aerosmith guitarist Joe Perry. While having a famous rock father has undoubtedly offered guidance in pursuing a career in the music industry (and likely instructional cautionary tales), TAB seems to be diligently paying their dues and staying clear from all coattails. In addition to working day jobs (Adrian is an Intellectual Property lawyer in NYC), the band is financing their summer tour through Pledge Music, a platform for fan donations to fund the making of an album or support touring with portions of the proceeds going to a charity. Depending on the amount fans pledge, they receive audio recordings or band merchandise. I think it says a lot about a band that probably could take advantage of family fortune or personal ties but chooses instead to carve its own path toward success. But why shouldn’t they? The music speaks for itself.

I hope that TAB the Band gets the exposure needed to introduce them to new music fans, young and old, because I think their sound has universal appeal. One thing is certain; they will come into success well deserved and on their own terms.

-AZ

TAB The Band]]> http://www.last.fm/user/audiozealot/journal/2010/06/19/3pwkww_gaslight_anthem:_the_everyfan%E2%80%99s_band Sat, 19 Jun 2010 03:15:12 +0000 http://www.last.fm/user/audiozealot/journal/2010/06/19/3pwkww_gaslight_anthem:_the_everyfan%E2%80%99s_band I have debated a philosophical question about music: does all music - and all art forms for that matter - have heart? I would like to believe that all music comes from a personal and authentic place and, whether or not emotion resonates, is in the ear of the each beholder. While this is a nice thought - and all artists may have the best intentions - not all music is equal in this department. Some songwriters write more personally and bare more soul. Some musicians play like their lives depend on winning over every last audience member. Some bands are driven to uphold a standard set by the rock heroes who inspired their path. Some music has more heart - much more heart - and that is what I think of every time I listen to the Gaslight Anthem.

This week, the Gaslight Anthem released “American Slang.” With this third album, the band retains all of the passion and heart of the previous albums but demonstrates a more mature and controlled delivery. The earlier Gaslight songs, from the “Sink or Swim” album, were firmly planted in the punk rock genre. Brian Fallon’s raw vocal on that album fit well with the aggressive drum-driven instrumentation. Since that album, they have added elements of post-punk, American folk, and classic rock, while largely retaining their punk sound. Beginning with “The ’59 Sound” album, and now with “American Slang,” the band has become much more skilled at crafting melodies that compliment the lyrical weight of the songs. On every album Brian Fallon has written thoughtful and poetic lyrics, and it now feels like the instrumentation has eased up ever so slightly, from the aggressive punk rock of the earlier days, to allow the songs the breathing room they deserve.

The new album does not disappoint. It solidifies what I have come to believe is the soul of the Gaslight Anthem and what gives their music so much heart: they, and Fallon in particular as the band lyricist, view the world through a rock and roll kaleidoscope, reflecting in each album shades of tribute and admiration for rock and roll’s intimate and powerful grip on each of us. Their love and passion as devoted music fans radiates through each song, suggesting the belief that rock and roll is our teacher, philosopher, and our constant companion through sorrowed or joyful times. The authenticity of their albums comes from the highest level of respect for the impact that rock and roll has in our lives.

You took it all gracefully on the chin, knowing that the beatings had to someday end/ You found the bandages inside the band and the stitches on the radio -Boxer

“The ’59 Sound,” the Gaslight Anthem’s sophomore album, was my first exposure to the band a couple of years ago. I was hooked by the very first listen because I felt that I was hearing a musical manifestation of my own fandom. That album was a treasure trove of clues and references to Dylan, Springsteen, Petty, and many kings of Motown, some very obvious and others less so. Not only is that album musically outstanding, the lasting impression it made for me is that this is a band that understood what it is to be humbled by the emotion that a single song is capable of triggering. Like me, they seemingly found escapism in lyrics and comfort in melody.

Did you grow up lonesome and one of a kind? / Were your records all you had to pass the time? -The Queen of Lower Chelsea

With “American Slang,” the band brings all elements of instrumentation in balance with the vocal in a way that lends more emotion to the delivery of the songs. The rhythm section, made up of drummer Ben Horowitz and bassist Alex Levine, has found a much broader tempo range on this album, and comparing the tempo on songs like “The Queen of Lower Chelsea” and “Orphans” demonstrate that variation. Alex Rosamilla delivers excellent guitar lines throughout the album, but in particular on “Stay Lucky” and “Old Haunts.” In fact, “Old Haunts” is pretty close to perfection in my book with (relatively) delicate guitar work and lyrics like God help the man who says “If you’d have known me when…”/old haunts are for forgotten ghosts.

Much has been made about the similarities in sound of the Gaslight Anthem to Bruce Springsteen, with good reason. Like Springsteen, the Gaslight Anthem is a blue-collar band from New Jersey. They write poetically versed, energetic rock songs about simpler times, and the hopes and broken dreams of the everyman. I think the most important similarity is more elusive, and has to do with the silver lining the listener is able to take from a Gaslight song. More than how they sound, or where they are from, the comparison with Springsteen may have more to do with how the music makes us feel. Like Springsteen, the Gaslight Anthem reminds us that restlessness, forsaken dreams, and loneliness are all fundamental experiences of the human condition; we are not alone in feeling them, and there is something better yet off in the horizon. And in the meantime, find your escapism in music - just throw on some Miles Davis and let “The Cool” wash over you; you’ll feel better.

We were orphans before we were ever the sons of your songs. –Orphans

The new album is not homage to the Gaslight Anthem’s influences, as was “The ’59 Sound.” Really, you can only make an album so boldly in tribute once in a career. Nonetheless, the clues are there. With greater subtlety, “American Slang” still reveals the Gaslight Anthem as a band of die-hardest of music fans that will continue to churn out the heartfelt soundtrack of our own music fandom.

-AZ
The Gaslight Anthem, American Slang]]> http://www.last.fm/user/audiozealot/journal/2010/05/27/3nzkvu_in_defense_of_stevie_and_lyrical_obscurity Thu, 27 May 2010 02:09:13 +0000 http://www.last.fm/user/audiozealot/journal/2010/05/27/3nzkvu_in_defense_of_stevie_and_lyrical_obscurity This week Stevie Nicks turns 62 years old, and this means two things for me. First, by acknowledging her birthday, I will undoubtedly be reminded by a loved one of the South Park episode where Stevie is impersonated by a goat, kidnapped by the Taliban, and does a stage performance (in goat-form with a chiffon skirt) singing “bah, bah, bahh.” Damn you, South Park. But second, and more importantly, her birthday gives me license to unabashedly praise her in all her fairytale-telling, gossamer-wearing, la-la-land living glory.

Stevie has long been an easy target for mocking and parody by the cynics of the rock and roll world. Last night I read through every album review that Rolling Stone magazine ever gave Stevie’s solo work. I don’t recommend it for other Stevie fans. It is harsh criticism, and it is the primary reason I soured to the magazine years ago. To appreciate Stevie’s words and her image, one must be willing to suspend reality, embrace the fantasy world she lives in, and come to terms with the notion that great lyrics can sometimes be nonsensical as long as they convey a mood or a feeling. This is something that rock critics have never accepted in Stevie’s songs, and as a result, she has not been taken seriously for her fantastic songwriting.

I like lyrical obscurity in songwriting, and I don’t think a songwriter should be discounted because their lyrics lack clarity. The songs that do not reveal all of the writer’s truths are the songs that stay with you over the course of time and take on different meanings as you grow and change. Stevie writes almost entirely about relationships, but she leaves her words open to interpretation by the listener and their own relationships. “Landslide,” “Has Anyone Ever Written Anything For You,” “Silver Springs,” “Storms,” “Sara,” and the list goes on… are songs that the listener can apply to any number of relationships in their life: to a lover, a child, a parent, a friend. Landslide will comfort the teenager struggling to get over the break-up of a first love, but then take on a whole different meaning to that same person when, 20 years down the road, they look into their child’s eyes. And the song’s meaning likely had many incarnations in between.

Stevie also is a master at putting words together in a way that conveys mood through imagery:

You could be my Silver Spring / Blue-green colors flashing / I would be your only dream / Your shining autumn, ocean crashing (Silver Springs)

And a black widow spider makes more sound than she / Black moons in those eyes of hers made more sense to me (Sister of the Moon)

The ones you dream of / The ones who walk away / With their capes pulled ‘round them tight / Crying for the night / Cry for the Nightbird (Nightbird)

She out in the distance sees him against the sky / A pale and violent rider / A dream begun in wine (The Highwayman)

Track a ghost through the fog / A charmed hour and a haunted song (Angel)

What does it all mean?!?! It doesn’t matter if her words are puzzling. As fragmented and obscure as her lyrics can be, they paint a pictures in the mind. You may not know what she was writing about in some songs; nonetheless, you know what she was feeling. Not all of Stevie’s songs are crafted in the style of a medieval fairytale. She has written many straightforward country-style tunes, and is quite talented in writing for that genre. “That’s Alright,” “Rose Garden,” “Enchanted,” and “Leather and Lace” are a few examples of her country-style songs. At the request of country singer Waylon Jennings, Stevie originally wrote “Leather and Lace” for Jennings to duet with his wife Jessi Colter. Jennings also produced very convincing country versions of “Rhiannon” and “Gold Dust Woman.”

I do understand some criticism of her albums. Although I think Stevie has consistently written great lyrics throughout the years, the overall quality of her finished music has depended on who was producing her albums. She fell prey in the late 80’s to some unfortunate instrumentation, as many artists did. I also understand that her lyrical style, as well as her vocal style, is not palatable to everyone.

Despite never being the critics’ darling, Stevie is intensely beloved by her fans, respected and admired by the countless artists she has shared the stage with, and continues to reach out and mentor young songwriters. For all of the fanciful tales she has told through song, she is as authentic a writer and a performer as they come. Her songs, her audience, and performing with her peers are the great loves of her life, and we are lucky recipients of that passion and dedication.

Don’t listen to her, listen through her…

-AZ

Stevie Nicks]]>