Sunday, July 22, 2007

tHE wEEK iN bLOGSD


Bitch needs a goddamn ticket limit

I'm going back to aping Tom Breihan's blog style, with the picture at the top, and the italicized semi-punchline underneath. I can't quit you Tom! Even if you continue to reveal reason after reason why you shouldn't be allowed to own ears (Crazy Town, Tommy? Really? And Devin the Dude and Against Me! are two of the main reasons music criticism needs me bad). Anyway. I saw shows this week. I'm seeing another one tonight. But that's mainly what I did.

July 16 - The Decemberists - Central Park SummerStage

This band is tearing me and my girlfriend apart (well and me being an asshole). Colin. How many times have I told you. I don't care if you know the word palanquin. I will not sit down in the middle of yer big 40 minute seven-part epic just because the rest of Central Park does. That is fucking stupid. I did n--my girlfriend did not pay $33.75 or something so I could act like a sheep. I don't care who was behind me being a bitch several rows back. It's bad enough Central Park charges $4 extra to put chicken in the Caesar salad. I'm not giving up the best view I had all show to please you. Especially when the group won't even put in the effort for me. Where was the giant cardboard whale, Chris? Flapping your arms is no acceptable substitute for an EASILY PACKABLE PROP. Where was "Culling of the Fold," Colin, your best song in ages? I'm gonna have to challenge you to a duel or some shit...get your prissy white gloves. Yes, your musicianship is good ("The Island" especially), yes, your song selection was for the most part up to par ("The Engine Driver"), but no, I am not sitting down during that big finale and I don't give a shit how many dead infants from Russia it's about. B-

July 20 - Gogol Bordello - Irving Plaza

Just by wearing a Gogol shirt I didn't even purchase here, I got asked about this show more the next day than my girlfriend got hit on by Newark Penn Station FAs in the last month (that's a lot). If you live in NYC, this NJian concludes, you care about Gogol Bordello's live show. Not Battles, not Cursive, not Eric Bachmann & Neko Case, three very tasty shows I unfortunately hads to choose over. Fuck, even my dad AND mom were rock and roll savvy enough to hit the Philly show the night before. I've already made myself more than outspoken about the awesomeness that be the Gogol live show and this was no different. Eugene made up for not climbing onto the drum with the chick during the now-classic "Undestructible" finale by not just climbing the speaker tower to stage left (big deal, fucking Blake from Rilo Kiley did that) but leaping up to the balcony like fucking Spider-Man and smooching a lucky lady's neck loudly into the mic ("Mwwwwwahhh! Mwwwwaaah!" et al.). I finally got to see them do "Sally," and they picked every new song I needed to hear, which means not many ("Harem In Tuscany" finally converts!) and otherwise showed my baby how a real band plays a show. A

July 21 - Siren Music Festival - Coney Island

I have to keep reminding myself what a disappointment this wasn't. It was free, for one thing. The barely-alcoholic Pina Coladas were really good (they were out of Blue Hawaiians what the fuck), The Noisettes were excellent onstage, and someday they might write an album worth of their enthusiasm (What's the Time Mr. Wolf is hardly anything to sneeze at, and fuck Rolling Stone for agreeing), and the tail end of White Rabbits that we caught was fun. But this was a fucking trainwreck. Leave for five fucking seconds to eat and pee and you were out. The thing was disgustingly overcrowded. It was impossible to get anywhere close enough to see M.I.A. or We Are Scientists (of course Elvis Perkins in fucking Dreamland didn't have this problem), and to hear them at all you had the option of standing in front of the auxillary speaker placed strategically in front of the baking port-o-potties. I passed. Didn't help that some bands operated on a half hour delay that others didn't recognize (I know all summer festivals have this problem, but other fests don't have three blocks separating the two stages). We basically gave up trying to see music (and I am PISSED I have to find out when perpetually-deported M.I.A. and possibly one-time-only New York Dolls are coming again) and treating the thing as an excuse to meet some bands. Now I've still never seen Cursive, but I've offered them a watered-down Pina Colada. Nice fellows. Noisettes were too. I ran into several cool people (sup Carias), and some losers (drop dead Lauren) and got some sun. C

July 21 - Eric Bachmann - Maxwell's

Even if we ultimately got within hearing range of New York Dolls I doubt I would've loved it as much as I did our split decision to bolt and try to catch this little gem. I had such a great time watching an all-time hero do his soggy bar-crooner thing in a dimly lit room with two females adding haunting, excellent backing vocals, drum and violin, and an awesome cello/upright guy that I don't even care that I missed four of my favorite songs ever by arriving late (according to a jacked setlist). The vibe was just perfect. We mostly sat down against the wall, up front by the stage enjoyed whatever solo and Crooked Fingers tunes the man felt like doling out. Suprisingly, the balding outgrown indie rocker still had a big, fucked up sense of humor; he laughs at cars on fire in Pennsylvania, takes long pee breaks before the encore, and forgets the words to "Sweet Marie." Awesome. And what do you know, he did save one of my favorite songs of all time for the end: "White Trash Heroes!" Awesome guy. Really nice to take a pic with us afterwards too even though I was slobbering on him like a moron ("I even have your Barry Black CDs!!") and probably scaring him. Never will I choose a lame festival over a modest genius ever again. A-

Tonight: The Willowz and Detroit Cobras at Maxwell's! And then I stop blowing all my money on shows and look for a damn job again!

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