Summer comes

Saturday was a hot, muggy day in Chicago. One of the worst we've had in an admittedly mild summer. Saturday was also the day Paul and I attempted to hit not one, but two concerts in Chicago. Not the most favorable confluence of factors, but, then again, it could have been much worse. We could have been attending Lollapalooza. Shudder.

First on our dance card was a solo show by Jeff Tweedy, benefitting (and held at) Emanuel Congregation. In contrast to the February benefit shows at the Vic, he line was quite late in forming. No complaints here. We walked around on the beach, spent some time in Metropolis coffee, and generally tried to enjoy the late afternoon without melting. I'd considered driving the entire way down from WI on Sheridan Road, but perhaps another time.

The show felt a little weird to me, though I should be used to seeing Jeff in unusual settings. I was happy when Susan came out to take requests beforehand. Jeff played "I'll Fight," which I'd asked for, and it was interesting to hear it solo again. The last time that happened I barely knew the song at all. One of my favorite performances of the night was "So Much Wine" - I think the emotion of the lyrics really came through. "A Long Time Ago" was a rare treat I'd only heard previously with Golden Smog or at soundchecks. Overall, though, I thought Jeff seemed a little distracted. Judging from other reviews I've read, this isn't an opinion shared by the majority of attendees, so who knows. It was also unusual to experience so little crowd participation and singing along. It wasn't unexpected, since many members of the audience were there to support the congregation and weren't necessarily familiar with the performers. I missed that aspect, although it would have been an ideal atmosphere for someone who doesn't enjoy that kind of thing. Still, I'm definitely not complaining. Jeff gave us and Emanuel Congregation a very good show. It's not lost on me that 80% of the non-Wilco performances by Jeff Tweedy I've seen in the past four years have been charity benefits. (Truly, I figured it out.) That's pretty amazing. Peter Grosz (a.k.a. "the guy from the hamburger commercials") opened the evening with a short set of standup comedy. I wish he'd come back to do the Letters to Santa show again. Colbert, Schmolbert!

No dawdling for us afterwards - it was straight over to Metro for the second half of the double-header. Even a passionate festival hater such as myself can appreciate Lollapalooza for the post-fest shows: they start late so people can drag their dehydrated, drunken selves over to see even more bands! Without an 11:00 p.m. start time and an opener, there's no way we could have made it over to see Fleet Foxes after the benefit. But it did start at 11:00, and we did make it, even catching the last two songs of Dungen's opening set. The attrition rate in the crowd was higher than it might otherwise have been due to the extreme heat inside Metro. A dubious thing to be grateful for, but it did mean that we were able to get much closer than I'd hoped to the stage. Sure, Robin's beard was constantly dripping sweat, the band threw two canvas bags of water bottles out to the crowd, and Robin kept asking during the encore if anyone else felt like they were a verse away from passing out due to heat stroke. But we were really close!

Formidable heat and humidity aside, the show was excellent. It was my first time seeing Fleet Foxes in a headlining slot, and hopefully not the last. I don't know how they make their harmonies sound so effortless and beautiful, but they sound every bit as good in person. Better. One perk of liking a band without an extensive back catalog is getting to see practically everything you want to see at a concert. "White Winter Hymnal," "Mykonos," "Blue Ridge Mountains," "Sun Giant," "Oliver James" ... all played, including a cameo by Dungen. We heard a brand new song, too.

By the time the show was finished the walls of Metro were sweating like a cold beer on a hot day. The only other surface I briefly touched on the way out - the rail on the staircase - was wet, too. Ugh. Even though it was 5:00 a.m. before I got home, I consider Saturday a triumph of good music and will over the elements. As usual, I'm hungry for more. Bring on the weekend!

Isn't it a lovely night?

Over the past six years I've seen the Decemberists eight times, and Colin Meloy solo four times. All were in Madison or the Chicago area. Of those combined twelve shows, only two venues have been repeats. The Decemberists' fanbase has grown steadily over the years - in size, if not in age, though I'm doing my part to drag the average up. On Wednesday night the band played their largest venue in Madison yet: the Overture Center. I don't relish the prospect of shows on the 7-foot Orpheum stage, and thought the Overture seemed better-suited for The Hazards of Love, so the venue upgrade was welcome news to me. In spite of a few questions on how the Overture would handle GA, I anticipated a fine night of music.

The Overture lobby struggled to accommodate curving lines of fans before doors opened, but the procession into the theater was orderly. The Heartless Bastards actually came on a bit early to open the show, and I liked their set. Sound quality at the front of the theater wasn't the best, but that's an expected trade-off I'm more than willing to make. During the break between sets I turned around to take in the sight of a nearly full Overture Hall. Very impressive.


The Decemberists' first set consisted of The Hazards of Love played in its entirety. The album hasn't grabbed me the way that most of the band's material has in the past, though I respect and appreciate what they've accomplished with it. Seeing it performed live, however, I was captivated. The Hazards of Love is the band's most theatrical release in many ways; a concept album that tells a complete (somewhat fantastical) story from start to finish. Listening to it is a bit like listening to a musical soundtrack. I found it very interesting, then, that the actual performance of The Hazards of Love was the least "theatrical" I've ever seen the Decemberists. There was no playful back and forth with the crowd, no singalong gimmicks, no props. Don't get me wrong: I enjoy all of those things. But this was very much an in-character performance. Colin alternated between William and the Rake, taking command with "The Rake's Song." (Which I loved. All of those drums!) Becky Stark floated about the stage as Margaret. Shara Worden leapt and howled (and smiled an awful lot) as the Queen. The audience wasn't acknowledged until the last notes of the lovely "Hazards of Love 4 (The Drowned)" had faded away, and I'd had time to recover from Chris Funk's awesomeness on pedal steel. It was truly a unique concert experience ... one I wouldn't mind repeating.


The second set saw the return of the usual Decemberists, with bonuses. Bonuses like Shara Worden taking the female vocal role on "Yankee Bayonet," and joining Becky Sharp for a joyous and energetic cover of Heart's "Crazy on You." Colin was chatty, explaining why we owe him a debt of gratitude (his song "Dracula's Daughter" is so bad that it made God cry a single tear, creating the lakes of Wisconsin) and reminiscing about the precarious Orpheum stage. He made use of the entire stage at the Overture, which is always a bit of an adventure when there's no barrier between the stage and the front row. The second encore began with a solo performance of the gorgeous "Red Right Ankle," and the band ended the show with "Sons and Daughters." Singing "hear all the bombs fade away" over and over at the top of your lungs with a theater full of people feels wonderful. (It is what the "Kingpin" scream wants to be.) The soundboard setlist routine didn't fail me on the way out, and I left with a nice physical souvenir of the evening. Well, that and a limited-edition poster that's taken up residence in The Pile at home. I'm weak when it comes to hometown shows.


Decemberists setlist, 8/5/09:

The Hazards of Love [full album]
**
The Crane Wife, Pt. 3
The Bachelor and the Bride
We Both Go Down Together [w/last verse of Morrissey's "Angel, Angel, Down We Go Together"]
Yankee Bayonet [duet w/Shara Worden]
Rox in the Box
July, July!
Dracula's Daughter
O Valencia!
Crazy on You (Heart cover) [Shara Worden and Becky Stark lead vocals]
***
Red Right Ankle [Colin solo]
Sons & Daughters

More pictures on flickr.

Stop

I have a habit of thinking ahead. Far ahead. This is helpful in many ways; it means I'm usually well-prepared for meetings, deadlines, trips, DVR-ing important episodes of Anthony Bourdain's show, etc. But it has its drawbacks.

In recent weeks I've been making plans for September, October, and November. I've calculated and budgeted my vacation time through the end of December. Today I forced myself to take a breath and realized: it is August 3rd. August. Right now. If I don't watch out, I'm going to miss the rest of this summer while my brain continues to function two months in the future.

Perhaps this can become an extension of my curious, newest endeavor: becoming less efficient. I recently bought an excellent pedometer on a friend's recommendation. My goal each day is to walk at least 10,000 steps, but I realize that some days it's not going to be possible. On the weekend I can do this easily. On a workday, with 90% of my job depending on a computer, it's a challenge. Even a designated walk or hike, weather permitting, doesn't completely make up for a day at the desk. And so, I find myself going out of my way to be less efficient. Time for a bathroom break - why not walk across campus to another building, go up to the second floor, and use that restroom? Need to wash my lunch dishes and refill my water bottle - why don't I make two separate trips for that?

I know suggestions for adding more walking into one's day are common sense, but I never considered the degree to which many of them contradict my current way of thinking. We're so well-programmed to make the most of every second of our time. It's a jarring shift in viewpoint. It's strange to walk upstairs at home, realize I forgot to bring something I was going to put away ... and instead of being annoyed, view it as a bonus trip. Strange, and strangely refreshing.

To broaden this philosophy, I am going to take some time out every day to reflect on the fact that it is summer, and I need to bask in it. Even if it's cold and raining. (It's not today!) I'm going to make sure everything I need to do for upcoming months gets scheduled in my calendar, and then I'm going to make myself not think about it for awhile. August. Wow, State Fair hasn't even begun yet.

Fight songs

I went to an Old 97's show this week! The last time I saw the full band was at Festa Italiana in Chicago back in 2007, so I was overdue.

The evening began with solo sets from Murry Hammond and Rhett Miller. Having seen Rhett solo many times in the past, I was very glad to see him again, but more novel for me was the chance to see Murry. I'm not the biggest fan of his solo material, but I enjoyed the set, which included a Julie Miller cover and a spoken word piece of Murry's own. His performance of "Valentine" was one of my favorite songs of the night. "Of all the many ways a man will break his heart / well there ain't none meaner than he pulls his own apart." Ahhhh.

The 97's blazed through a set of noisy, energetic songs, as befitted the rather boisterous crowd. A fight broke out on the floor in the midst of the show, but luckily Rob was nearby and kept things from getting utterly out of hand. I hadn't seen the band since Blame it On Gravity came out, and was once again reminded that I should buy that album. I've enjoyed what I've heard for some time now, and I'm not used to not knowing every song by heart. The show ended with a one-two punch of Four Leaf Clover and Time Bomb. I always know what I'm going to get from an Old 97's show: good, solid fun. They deliver.

Viper at the SnS

Friday night I drove down to Chicago to see Viper and His Famous Orchestra play one of my favorite venues, Hotel S'n'S. I love seeing shows at Hotel S'n'S because the music is only half the fun. Friday night also included doggies, drinks, pretzel rods, another appearance by Ted Kennedy, stories of Mr. Ben, discussion of cans, new nicknames, and Twilight Sweethearts (a.k.a. the worst-tasting candy ever, whose horror is apparently eternal.) But the reason for the gathering was, of course, the music.

Things got underway shortly after 9:00 p.m. with the first set by Edward Burch. LeRoy Bach joined in to play "Dad Says" and a wonderful rendition of "Special Day" featuring John Peacock on the tambourine. Ed chose an eclectic group of songs to round out the rest of the set. How many times do you see "Jet Boy, Jet Girl" played solo acoustic? For me, at least, I'm putting my money on just this once.

Eclectic was also an apt description of the Viper and His Famous Orchestra's main set. With a formidable arsenal of instruments at their disposal, the band shifted effortlessly between pop, rap, waltzes, and sea shanties. (Good thing Sam had duct tape handy to repair Ed's brooms earlier in the evening, because he made excellent use of them.) "Winnebago Bay" made me glad to be wearing a Wisconsin shirt, though I wished my Sheboygan Falls comrades had been able to make it down. "Wanna Be Startin' Something" inspired the loudest singalong of the night, which isn't a surprise. The actual lyrics of the song, however, were a surprise to many in attendance. ("You're just a buffet?")

Not to slight their originals, which were great, but two of my favorite Viper songs of the night were YouTube gems the band had adapted for live performance. I have no idea how they found these, but they're amazing. The first was a rap called "Drunk Bus," a song with which any state school attendee can identify:



The second was "Benny Lava," based on a phonetic transcription of a great video from India. An enterprising gentleman wrote down English lyrics that sound like the words being sung. The band sang all the subtitles you see here:



The Viper and His Famous Orchestra played a show today at Milliennium Park in Chicago. I'm sorry I wasn't able to make it for that, but I'm glad I got to see them at the Hotel.

Following a break, Ed came back to play a "secret encore" by himself. The songs were somewhat slower, and I loved the Bennett and Burch elements. He also appeased the crowd request for ELO's "Telephone Line," which was appreciated by all. Ed's bonus set was great way to close out the musical portion of the night.

By my count, Friday's show was the eighth I've seen at Hotel S'n'S. Here's hoping for many more.

Michael Jackson and the greatest sticker page ever

In memory of Michael Jackson, I'm linking to an entry I wrote in 2007 looking back on my childhood sticker collection. Only a four-year-old could create something as wonderful as this:


Click here for more in Stickers: 1984.

First day of July

Oh right, I have a blog! Sorry, I nearly forgot. I'm afraid the past week or two will remain unreported here due to time constraints, but there were antics! Hijinks, even. Random quote: "I mean, he's not the star. The gerbils are the stars."

I'm looking forward to the holiday weekend, even though it feels like October here right now. I just realized I forgot to listen to "Last Day of June" yesterday. Damn it. I try to make it a point to listen to songs that reference specific dates on the appropriate day. Similar story with songs that refer to specific locales when I'm traveling. I already missed listening to U2's "Breathe" on the 16th of June, too. Saturday, though! "4th of July" and "Star Witness." It will happen.

And now you know another weird thing about me.

(What kind of flowers are these? They're all over Badger Prairie, or they were a couple weeks ago.)