Monday Music Roundup

This last week I started twittering. Suddenly all the small moments in my life are memorialized in 140 characters or less. So now in addition to being able to keep up with what some of my favorite real-life friends are doing RIGHT THIS MINUTE, I’ve also laughed daily at the twitter feed of writer Joshua Green Allen aka fireland. I don’t know him for reals but I first read about him over on Heather’s Dooce blog, and he turns out to live up in Denver. Now, my Denver is never as fun as his Denver, but now I can chuckle at his twitter feeds like: “First time I’ve ever been fired for sexual harassment during a job interview, but your sick gams ARE my biggest managerial weakness.”

Allen also penned a great article about the perfect length for a song, and posits that it “had to be closer to three minutes than two, but definitely shorter than three minutes. Three minutes is where bloat starts to set in. Where the band thinks: Hey, let’s do the chorus seven times. Hey, let’s give the saxophone guy a real moment to shine on this one. Hey, let’s add another bridge.”

He goes on to give some love to The La’s “There She Goes” as the ultimately perfect song of that perfect length. In sum, a man after my own heart. Listen to the 2:42 muxtape too if you’re in an abbreviated mood.

Music for this week:

Pop Song
Starfucker
This Portland band played on Saturday at Denver’s Hi-Dive but I was literally still trying to thaw under my comforter from a freezing afternoon attempting to understand Australian Rules Football in a friend’s tournament over at the Air Force Academy. Starfucker rocked the joint, and I dozed cozily. But I’ll bet the cool kids there enjoyed their sound — sexy but not sleazy, light but with an undercurrent of electronic grime. I think this song should have played in Empire Records; it’s got that mid-90s innocence and pop heft. Starfucker’s self-titled debut is out now on Badman, and their cover of Madonna’s “Burnin’ Up” is also streaming on RCRDLBL. Worth noting, they are neither the NIN song nor the Belgian band of the same name, but apparently this recreational hobby seems to be hitting its stride.

Balloons (Foals cover) - Holy Fuck
Balloons (original) – Foals
Hey, while we’re already using words that make my mom blush, let’s throw this little nugget in here as well. This week Foals and Holy Fuck released a collaboration/mutual admiration society 12″ where they each covered one of the other’s songs. These dudes both played Monolith, so I like to picture them sitting down at the oxygen bar and coming up with this idea amidst the red rocks. It could happen. To get the vice-versa cover (Super Inuit), click here. The split 12″ is out now on white vinyl via Young Turks, or on their tour(s).

Satanic Messiah
Mountain Goats
As I write this Sunday night (35° outside!), I’ve been listening to Mountain Goats on shuffle while I pack and go through stuff I’d rather not look through in prep for moving this next weekend. The poetic ache of Darnielle’s lyrics, his indignation and passion keep these songs on repeat. The newly-released Satanic Messiah EP is not Darnielle’s foray into black metal but rather a lovely 4-song acoustic collection with religious metaphor themes (not uncommon in his songs). Of these songs, Darnielle writes, “I am fond of them; they remind me of old vanished things.” This particular tune is ostensibly about going to see a show or performance, and how “we were all made young when he stepped onto the stage, like an animal escaping from his cage,” and then sings about how they all were “too dazed to leave when it was over.” Mountain Goats play Denver on Friday night with Kaki King, and I’m going to hope for something similar.

I Can’t Make You Love Me (Bonnie Raitt cover)
Denison Witmer
No, really. Listen to this cover, even if you haven’t given Bonnie Raitt much thought since you (like my sister) sang this song in Pops Choir in high school. Philadelphia folk artist Denison Witmer loves covers as much as I do, and he’s taken to releasing a whole slew of them for free in his achingly stripped-down style. Through his MySpace and a partnership with the ace Cover Lay Down blog, Denison has been giving away free songs on a regular basis, including ones originally by Band of Horses, Oasis, Van Morrison and Red House Painters. This particular one is my favorite of the batch. It starts with a settling in a room; you can hear the grey empty space starkly bouncing back his plaintive, resigned voice. It is an absolutely devastating song, and especially the way he does it — all void and defeated. Witmer’s new album Carry The Weight is out November 11th, and side project alert: check out his River Bends band with Steve Yutzey-Burkey of The Swimmers.

Urban Lull (At Once Charmed)
The Umbrella Sequence
I’ve said it before, but our local community college radio station is one of the best I’ve ever listened to. They have turned my ears on to so many things that I previously missed, like The Umbrella Sequence from Minneapolis. This song came over my car speakers the other day and I was instantly addicted and turned it way up. With sunshiney chiming pop melodies that fight valiantly (and occasionally win) through a scratchy wall of fuzz and electronica, they garner comparisons to Flaming Lips and Super Furry Animals. This is the lead-off track from last year’s Events (on Princess Records), and like a good aspiring rock star, Ryan Rupprecht sings over and over “We’re all getting bored” — but no, I am definitely not. Great song.

OH, A CLOSING PLEA: Help me think of fabulous Halloween costume ideas, potentially surrounding a long red dress with marvelous sequin trim I found in my basement? I also have a red feather boa, if that helps (or perhaps doesn’t). Or suggest something completely different. I’ll probably be at the Girl Talk show first that night, so I could go dressed as a hipster in neon sunglasses.

Or just this, I suppose. That would be amazing. [via]

Saturday :: Monolith under gorgeous blue skies (which turned upon us but we almost didn’t care)

Saturday was the start of the Monolith Festival and we were ready. The morning dawned perfect and gorgeous (and by dawned I mean 10am) and our parking lot tailgate went off without a hitch. Well, some hitches. We forgot utensils to flip burgers with and so mix CDs were sacrificed to the angry Weber gods.

I’d never heard New Zealand’s The Veils before, so their set was the perfect way to start a weekend designed for new musical discoveries. Silhouetted against the massive Ship Rock on the New Belgium Stage, their set impressed me with chimey notes, a bluesy groove, and Morrissey-esque vocals. I learned that the band Travis was instrumental in originally signing them to the Rough Trade label, where their latest album Nux Vomica was released in 2006.

Advice For Young Mothers To Be – The Veils

After the Veils it was off to the WOXY stage down in the inner bowels of the Red Rocks Visitors Center. So many of us never even knew that stages could fit down there, but fit they somehow did. Pictured below is the box o’ fun that Port O’Brien brought their pots and pans and lids and wooden spoons in for the riotous closer to their set. Alaskan Adventures indeed. Their set was a definite standout of the entire weekend for me, moving from a strong rootsy vibe to chaotic joy, all interlaced with phenomenal melodies. Just to give them that extra punch of alt-country cred, they actually have a guy in the band (guitar) named Zebedee Zaits. I would see them again live absolutely, and their All We Could Do Was Sing album may be on my tops list this year.

I Woke Up Today – Port O’Brien

After hearing stories from several friends and relatives who actually have travelled to faraway cities to see Superdrag on their current club reunion tour, I was excited to finally be getting to see them for myself. Their set was relentless and rocking and still felt very vital. I’d love to find a way to bring them back to Denver to pack a small sweaty club of our own. They played a varied set drawing from the range of past albums and ace new tunes like “Filthy and Afraid.” And you know what I have to admit? It was more fun than I thought it would be to sing along and wonder just who exactly sucked out the feeling.

Filthy and Afraid – Superdrag


From Melbourne Australia, Cut Copy‘s mainstage set was some of the most fun I had all day, unexpected in the bright daylight. Their synthy alternative indie-dance sound bounced around off the massive rocks flanking the crowd and funnelled all that energy back into the writhing masses. Some of the most enthusiastic dancing I saw all day took place at this show (probably because folks had room to dance — in contrast to their labelmates The Presets whose later set downstairs was so crowded that the fire marshals came to remove a few of us).

Feel The Love – Cut Copy

Shortly before Holy Fuck took the New Belgium Stage around 5pm, my friends and I decided that every time someone says their band name, either an angel dies or the baby Jesus cries. I also feel like I need to call and apologize to my mom. But none of that is relevant to the soaring sounds that they send shooting out from their huddled mass of collective intensity on stage. Their set was very similar to the one I saw at Coachella, down to closing with the magnificent “Lovely Allen,” and I remain fascinated by their blend of electronic sounds with completely real rock.

Lovely Allen – Holy Fuck

AND! These videos that I shot both give me a delicious frisson of delight down my spine:

HOLY FUCK AT MONOLITH, UP CLOSE

HOLY FUCK CLOSING SONG: “LOVELY ALLEN” AT MONOLITH

The Night Marchers came from nowhere (okay, San Diego) and blew me away with their filthy retro garage rock. A friend mentioned that I should check out this group fronted by Rocket From The Crypt’s John Reis — and after hearing their tunes alternate between punk, surf and straight up devil’s apocalypse, I was glad I heeded his call.

I Wanna Deadbeat You – The Night Marchers

White Denim was simply insane, like someone reincarnated Jimi Hendrix and we were gonna get the guitar-lighting festival moment all over again. Hard to believe it’s just a handful of skinny young guys, but they sounded blow-your-hair-back good (and loud!). I felt fortunate to see them on the small WOXY stage because they could be playing much larger venues in no time.

Paint Silver Gold – White Denim

I will admit that there are others who know much more than I do about Minneapolis duo Atmosphere and their glass house of dark hip hop, but I do know that I was mesmerized by the girls in the front row who kept lifting out their bare breasts and vigorously shaking them at the guys. I mean, like Motley Crue action going on at my very own indie rock festival. I was so proud. And no, I didn’t get pictures.

Devotchka was dizzying and musically dazzling as usual (even as sleety rain spat down on us), and it felt fitting to have a Denver band headline the main stage on opening night. Amidst instruments wrapped in christmas lights, and theatrically keening melodies played on exotic instruments, the crowd warmly received these hometown indie-gypsies.

…But my favorite show of the late-night set came from Denver’s slightly-less-well-known musical collective, the multiple membered Everything Absent Or Distorted. As if the band name wasn’t enough of a mouthful (go ahead. say EAOD. we do), they pack enough random musicians onstage that their near-midnight set on one of the underground stages seemed like we just crashed band practice amongst friends. As a late addition to the Monolith schedule, not many folks found this show. But I was glad I peeled myself away from the end of Devotchka’s set to see them leap and twist and yell and play.

Reprising a collaboration from the Underground Music Showcase last month, they finally launched into a cover of this song with an unbounded, melodic ferocity — and I almost busted a spleen from singing along:

Glad Girls – Guided By Voices

Passion Pit came and Passion Pit played that dang song which the moment I even think about it (like oh! right now! it’s happening right now) it starts looping in my head like someone implanted a tiny robot to sing it in there. I can hear it clear as day. They kicked off the Saturday night afterparty and shortly after, I kicked off some wandering and drinking and talking, and oh there was an unexpected limo ride involved. So it is with my apologies that my reporting back dwindles to a close here for Saturday at Monolith.

But oh! We had a whole ‘nother day of fun to come. We’re just getting started.

Sleepyhead – Passion Pit

PS – I saw lots of other bands that I am too overwhelmed to write coherently about, but notably The Muslims (what Chris wrote was both true and more punctual since he blogged when I was off sleeping instead) and The Morning Benders were really grand. See everyone from Saturday: Part One, Part Two

[Superdrag setlist photo credit the formidable John Moore]

Coachella Day 3: I just wanna burn up hard and bright

Vacate is the word. Arriving at Coachella Sunday, the traffic was light, the sun was shining but not too intensely . . . and the extra ticket my friend had was pretty much impossible to give away. There were tens of thousands there to see some very fine bands for Sunday, but it was not packed-crowded. While surely this was not nice for the organizers, it was good for the dusty masses who were wedged together a little less tightly for the third and final day of Coachella 2008.

Sunday was also basically just The Day I met The Hoff. All else (including shaking Sean Penn’s hand and chatting with M. Ward) pales in direct comparison. It’s like if you look right at the sun and then try to focus on anything else. The brilliance of his tanned Hoff-dom made me want to run down the beach slow-motion in a red tank swimsuit. Oh wait!! Not really.

After unfortunately missing Brett Dennen who I was looking forward to, Sunday actually began with Sean Penn urging us to get on his Dirty Hands Caravan to New Orleans (which would be a cool six days if I could afford just to just up and go). Penn is actually quite a compelling speaker and I admired what he was trying to do. I hope he had some success with the Coachellans. And contrary to advance rumors, Penn brought no special musical guest with him, just his direct earnest stare and his impassioned speech.

Next up was a few fun songs from Detroit/Chicago hybrid duo The Cool Kids on the main stage. They’ve got an old-school hip hop feel with buckets of confidence. I know Chris over at Gorilla vs Bear has been a big fan, saying way back when that they reminded him of “a late ’80s EPMD joint produced by a low-budget version of the Neptunes.” Agreed – not a bad start. Those guys would be amazingly fun to see in a small club – maybe kind of like the time I saw Sugarhill Gang in a tiny (literally) underground club in Italy.

Heading back to the tents, my mind was sent reeling by Holy F*ck, whose brand of lo-fi improvisational electronica is anything but sterile. Watching them pour their hearts into their music, doubled over their machines, radiating intensity — and then hearing the warmly soaring sounds that emerge made me reconsider what’s possible with that genre. They closed with my favorite song of theirs (you must watch them do it) and I know it sounds a bit hyperbolic, but for those final five minutes my soul levitated a little.

I’d been looking forward to the gorgeous vocal interplay, catchy melodies and varied instrumentation of Canadian lush-pop band Stars. I’d caught their live set before, so I knew how engaging Torquil Campbell and Amy Millan’s shared verses and crowd banter could be. Their Set Yourself On Fire album is a favorite of mine and I loved hearing those songs live, alongside the new stuff.

A wandering jaunt backstage revealed a busy crew inflating and painting the massive pig for the Roger Waters set later that night, and the aforementioned Hoff and Penn (sounds like a Vegas magic trick duo). I also tried and clearly failed to suppress my glee at meeting M. Ward, who was waiting to join his friends from My Morning Jacket on stage for their sunset performance.

My Morning Jacket more or less melted my face off. I’d never seen them play live before but from the opening notes of “One Big Holiday” I was pulled into their vortex and duly impressed with how hard they rocked. As a live band MMJ is relentless and fiery and impassioned.

They played through several songs from their new album, which ranged from the fairly-traditional big alt-countrified sounds of “I’m Amazed,” the straight up funky falsetto of “Highly Suspicious,” and a gorgeous rendition of the title track “Evil Urges.” They range so effortlessly from the thrashing rock to the perfect burnished timbre of sunset vocals fading out into the air.

Jim James played a scorching solo while surveying his fifedom from the speaker stacks in his Skeletor boot tops.

M. Ward indeed came out for the second song,”Off The Record,” with little fanfare. M didn’t sing at all to my disappointment, but they had some intense moments of rocking out and clearly enjoyed playing together.

Finally, a slightly blurred (call it artistic) shot of MMJ as the last vestiges of light from Sunday vanished below the horizon. I’m behind them, looking out at the crowd. They played for just a shade under an hour, abruptly leaving the stage at three minutes til 8.

Now, by the time Roger Waters took the stage, everyone in the crowd seemed to fall into two categories, both equally lethargic:

a) those who were doing some form of mood- or mind-altering drugs (not me Mom!) in what one of my friends commented was surely the densest concentration in the world at that moment in time of high people

-or-

b) those who were completely wiped out, who wanted nothing more than to lay on the grass somewhere and watch Roger Waters’ bi-plane drop confetti on us that turned out to be Obama fliers. We were glad it wasn’t biological warfare, which was honestly my first thought.

So while Waters took Coachella to the dark side of the moon, freaked with our minds with the surround sound effects, and released the giant pig that apparently got a bit out of control, I laid in the cooling grass that was just starting to be damp with dew and waited for the Tesla coils to go off, shooting blue-green lightning from coil to sky to earth. They never did for me, not that night.

So I guess that means I’ll be back.

And finally –randomly but perfectly– the song that was looping through my head all that last night:

“What a beautiful face I have found in this place
That is circling all around the sun
What a beautiful dream that could flash on the screen
In a blink of an eye and be gone from me
Soft and sweet
Let me hold it close and keep it here with me

What a curious life we have found here tonight
There is music that sounds from the street
There are lights in the clouds and there’s ghosts all around
Hear a voice as it’s rolling and ringing through me
Soft and sweet
How the notes all bend and reach above the trees. . .”

In An Aeroplane Over The Sea – Neutral Milk Hotel

ALL PICS: Friday / Saturday / Sunday
TUNES: Coachella music downloads aggregation on LargeHearted Boy

[Penn pic credit]