upto12

Okay Then, Let's Do This

2009-01-05T22:34:00.002-07:00

Enough hints and nods and ambiguous suggestions.

The new UPTO12.com is live. It really is.

Hopefully there's enough content there to keep you busy for a while. I'm probably a little more proud of it than I should be. There's a listening station where I'll feature my favorite tracks, a screening room to check out music videos and a central blahg that'll cover any range of subjects. This is a good thing. I'm excited. I hope you'll tolerate some of the bumps along the way. There's a little wonkiness in Firefox and I have no idea what it looks like in IE. (If you're using Internet Explorer, please please please stop. Just stop. Changing browsers will actually make the world a better place.)

The launch of the new UPTO12 universe does mean, however, that I won't be updating this cyberspace any more. I'll keep it live in case you're feeling nostalgic. And if you're still checking here... thank you. Seriously. It means a ton. More than you know.

Happy New Year.

-m.

"Guest Contributor"

2009-01-03T16:38:00.002-07:00

So I finally had to take Kyality to task for his over-the-top Coldplay love. Just couldn't handle all the gushing any more. Slide on over to see what I had to say. It's way too long and probably not worth reading, but he'll love to see an extra three or four blibs on the Google analytics.

Big announcement coming in the next couple days. Seriously.

Well...

2009-01-01T17:23:00.003-07:00

There's something on the horizon, but you know better than to trust me. Until I can deliver on a promise (?) that vague, visit Kyality. He craves the traffic and there are good odds that I'll be doing a little guest blahgging over in that next of the woods (got to set him straight about a few things). Anyway, if you're reading this, thanks for not giving up on me completely. Talk to you soon...

Okay, Now I'm Actually Crying

2008-06-19T11:06:00.000-06:00

#93.3 - BON IVER - For Emma, Forever Ago
by lablogotheque

I'll Explain Soon, I Promise or Why Would You Ever Believe Me When I Say That?

2008-05-16T13:56:00.002-06:00

The Swell Season

2008-05-06T09:35:00.007-06:00

There's so much to be said about an evening with the Swell Season. But I think Glen Hansard likely said it all last Friday night. He told stories about ghostbusting exorcists. He rambled about the evils of malls—specifically the monstrous Gateway that functions as a home/neighbor to the Depot (I could go on and on about the amazing-ness of the Depot... such a wonderful venue). His best line of the night was a commentary on the mall's food court: "Airline food from every country? No thanks..."

It felt like we'd all wandered into a gigantic living room and Glen and the boys had grabbed a couple guitars, Marketa had settled in at the piano and we were in for an all-nighter. At points it seemed we'd get just that. Every song had a story or a there's-really-no-point-to-this introduction. We were old friends, catching up after a few years separated by the Atlantic. For those of you who have seen the show, it's something to appreciate. More than a few friends have remarked (none more realistically than D, though) that it's the kind of show that makes you want to leave your job and follow them around the country for a little while, buying scalped tickets and sleeping in your car.

Sadly, my videos (and the photos above) didn't turn out so great. I'll leave one here and you can click here to watch another and here for a final oh-no-my-batteries-are-dying clip. The sound is good even if the visuals are lacking. I suppose my final thought on the show is that, even though Glen and Mar and the rest of the crew never looked me in the eye and we never exchanged as much as an awkward "hey," I walked away with a new batch of Irish friends. If/when we bump into each other again, it'll feel like a another reunion and I'll half-expect a slap on the back and a pint of Guinness.

Also... Kyality has pointed out that approximately 90% of my posts arrive between 9:00am and 10:00am... and today maintains the trend. I guess that should tell you something about my work habits. I don't know if this is the appropriate place, but there's some news on that front coming soon. Then again, the six of you who read this probably already know...

Tonight's The Night

2008-05-02T09:23:00.003-06:00

It takes a minute or two to load (or at least it is on my machine this morning), but it's so so so so worth it.

Once - When Your Mind's Made Up (studio)

La Blogotheque Keeps Bringing The Noise

2008-05-01T12:11:00.004-06:00

I must've fallen asleep... there's no other possible explanation for my missing La Blogotheque recent addition of a new series of concert videos. Back On Stages features actual concert footage (a brilliant supplement to the music-in-the-streets approach of the Take Away Shows). I've had a hard time figuring out what other acts have been featured so far—the navigation on the site is exactly clear—but all I needed was this massive dose of Bon Iver to know that I needed to stay tuned.

There are five featured videos and each one is f-f-f-f-fantastic. The best part is that you can watch the relatively nice embedded versions or DOWNLOAD THE QUICKTIME FILES! (Click that nifty little "QuickTime" link below the player.) My personal fave: Lump Sum. Watch it now. You won't regret it.

Back On Stages #2 Bon Iver - Lump Sum
by lablogotheque

Program Your TiVos, Kids

2008-04-30T09:43:00.004-06:00

It appears that VH1 (yeah, VH1... I'm dumbfounded, too) will broadcast a Radiohead show filmed in their basement recording studio this weekend. To be exact, it's scheduled for May 3 at midnight. Check your local listings and, if you're anything like me, set your digital video recording devices in case you fall asleep on the couch while trying to pry your eyelids open four hours past your customary bedtime (did I mention that I'm an old man?).

Here's a masterful preview clip of Reckoner—my favorite In Rainbows track. I know I've said it before, but I can't get over what charismatic performers the Radioheads actually are. It's continually mystifying to hear album tracks that may have originally sounded distant or slightly inhuman turned into full-blown, groovy rockers.

video.vh1.com

Let's Not Try To Figure Out Everything At Once

2008-04-23T14:18:00.004-06:00

This is not a breaking-news blahg. Never has been. Probably never will be. More than anything, I guess, it's a personal-reaction-to-what's-out-there blahg. And that's just too much to keep track of. Anyway, I've loved Fake Empire from the first second I heard it way back when. If I had to pick between Boxer favorites, this opening track wins every time. This morning, the track knocked my socks off and nearly had me sobbing as I looked for my freeway exit. That's probably too much information, but today feels like the kind of day that's just chock full of too much information.

And that brings me to the point of this post. A few months back, Scott Cudmore dropped an absolutely stunning, ridiculously beautiful (but somehow unofficial) video for Fake Empire. You just have to see it to know what I'm gushing about. Also... I'm lamenting the fact that this YouTube version is the best embeddable player I could find... so please do yourself a favor and WATCH THE PRISTINE QUICKTIME CLIP HERE.

If you're just too lazy to click, this'll do (but I'm very very disappointed in you):

Scrub-a-Dub

2008-04-18T09:42:00.004-06:00

I think I've mentioned before that upto12 headquarters is dialed into the Scrubs re-runs every night on channel 14. Typically, I'll catch one of the two back-to-back episodes around 10:30pm. There's something soothing about the show that helps me delete my mental cookies and settle in for a decent night's sleep. I can't totally put my finger on what exactly blew me away about the first two-plus minutes of last night's episode — but it featured Colin Hay's acoustic version of the Men At Work track, Overkill. If you haven't seen the entire episode, it's a good one (from Season 2, maybe? In fact... you may be able to watch it here...) and the magic of YouTube has put the Colin Hay montage at your fingertips. Give it a look. I'm relatively certain you'll be buying Overkill off iTunes within 4 minutes...

Also, the Colin Hay bit reminded me of the incredible Polyphonic Spree performance on another episode. I don't completely remember the backstory... but a patient at Sacred Heart wants to play with his band and somehow the good doctors work it out so the band shows up and the sickie gets to wave his tambourine. Mostly, the clip makes me sad that I never saw the Polyphonic Spree during the white-robe era. Again, at your fingertips:

The bottom line: I love Scrubs. And sometimes that love is rewarded with moments of musical crossover bliss. Something Kyality would call intertextual nuggetism. I watch Scrubs for a chuckle, but every now and again I get a bonus — Colin Hay, the Spree, Keri Russell...

In other news, there's some gossip floating around that Scrubs will show up with 18 more episodes on ABC next year. Strange, but good (very good) news.

Feist - Deer Valley - July 17

2008-04-10T11:28:00.003-06:00

Uh. Yeah. My super-crush of the last 18 months (or is has it been longer?) is coming to town. Leslie Feist in the summertime on a mountainside. This could be enjoyable, right?

Info here. Pre-sale is on now, so get a move-on, kids.

I'm Not A Copycat, I Just Seem Like One

2008-04-08T20:55:00.003-06:00

It feels as though I'm constantly biting the tires of SRO... and, honestly, there are worse things to be accused of. But the kind folks who run that music video site just posted the trailer for the long-awaited (by me, anyway) A Skin, A Night—a film about the National directed by Vincent Moon. I've praised Mr. Moon before for his work with the Take Away Shows and it's no surprise that my expectations are through the roof.

Watch the trailer:

A Skin, A Night Trailer
Uploaded by The National

A Few Quick Thoughts

2008-04-08T10:59:00.008-06:00

If you haven't seen it, Pitchfork.tv launched yesterday. And (shocker), I kinda love it. The video quality is outstanding and the content is pretty deep for a site just getting off the ground. Take a few minutes and browse around if you've got the time and you're sure to find something you love. Everything is on-demand (duh...) and P-Fork even takes a few lighthearted stabs at their well-deserved, holier-than-thou, we-hate-everything-you-like reputation. On top of music videos and live performances, Pitchfork.tv also promises to air documentaries and other assorted, musically awesome stuff.

We've all suffered long enough in the void created by MTV's refusal to air music videos and/or any music related shows—and, while I don't know if this is the ultimate remedy, Pitchfork.tv seems to fill the void quite nicely. If you'd like to read the thoughts of folks who actually know what they're talking about, Creativity Online has a short Q&A with Ryan Schreiber, who started Pitchfork and is now heading up the .tv efforts. Our friends at SRO (who recently reminded us that they're "always angry, but sometimes [they] just keep it in check") also have their opinions.

In other news, I've added an imeem playlist to the sidebar. It's a major work in progress and this is my first stab at the embedded player. If you have suggestions for better widgets or whatever, let me know. I'm all ears. I'm also dropping it here in this post for kicks... mostly to see how it all works/looks and to explore some options for the future. Enjoy or something, yeah?

And On The Seventh Day...

2008-04-07T09:59:00.005-06:00

Despite the nasty weather (seriously, snow in April... again?!), it's growing season for all who unite in the cause of mustacheosity. You probably remember the shenanigans from last year and this year promises to be better than ever. You can watch the progress and grasp the sheer dudeness of the holiday HERE. Seven days in, I'm not feeling horrible about my upper lip:

You've got 28 days to sharpen your look. In the meantime, stay away from the razor fill your mind with only the purest, most mustachioed thoughts.

I Wanted To Hate It

2008-04-04T09:48:00.003-06:00

On occasion, the upto12 household simply can't find a babysitter. Last night was one of those occasions. Mrs. upto12 ran through the (figurative) rolodex of neighborhood sitters and came up empty. So, instead of enjoying a nice sit-down meal ("nice" being an extremely relative term) and the romantic comedy of the month (Definitely, Maybe... surprisingly rated in the 70s on Rotten Tomatoes), the Wilson Bros were sent to bed early and Mrs. upto12 grabbed a bag of burgers and fries from local grease pit Ab's. My mission was to rent a suitable replacement for D,M at the RedBox kiosk down the road from upto12 headquarters. Selection was poor, especially in the rom-com category. In fact, there was really only one option:

I wanted to hate it. I really did. But I just couldn't. Catherine Z-Jones (yeah, I just linked to her IMDB in case you didn't know who she was... aws) was decent. Aaron Eckhart's butt-chin was solid and the little girl from a hundred recent movies wasn't even remotely hateable. I must be losing my ability to hate sappy rom-coms... next thing you know I'll be dishing my opinion on 27 Dresses and Fool's Gold. Brace yourselves.

We'll Shine Together

2008-04-03T14:26:00.004-06:00

This is old news and the sometimes-angry, mostly-radical folks over at SRO posted about it a while back, but I've been recently re-enthralled with Rihanna (Beyonce, Jr for those of you in the know...). I really just can't get enough of R&B/pop songs with ridiculous lyrics. A song about an umbrella? I'm in. To top it off, this collaboration is relatively fantastic. More stunningly beautiful R&B stars should join forces with British dance/rock/pop bands. I'm being serious. Beyoncé plus Arctic Monkeys? Golden. Leona Lewis plus Hot Chip? Woo-hoo. Fergie plus New Order? Well... even an idea this gnarly might have its limits.

Also, I know nothing about Klaxons, but lots of Brits seem to like them, it appears they don't typically wear sleeves on their shirts and they move around rather smoothly while they rock. Now I'm intrigued. If you can recommend them, shout it out loud and clear. Ey! Ey!

Those Are the Marks My Feet Made In The Sand

2008-03-31T11:30:00.007-06:00

Every now and again, a work trip turns into a vacation. For an hour or two, anyway. I spent the weekend in the LBC and actually managed to see two movies, eat some BBQ, watch some basketball, take a nap on the beach and finish it all off with a blood-clotting ribeye steak. It all made me feel a little sheepish for having such a sourpuss attitude about work-related travel. I've used the "nice place, but it's not like I'll get to enjoy it" line about 27 times too many. You're all sick of it and, now, so am I. So I apologize for being such a malcontent. It really just took a 53-minute nap on the beach to change my heart.

There's no other point to this post. Just an apology. Take it at face value and move on with your day...

I Paid $7.75

2008-03-28T20:29:00.006-06:00

Is it irony that the tagline for this movie is "You get what you pay for"? I might have to check with an irony expert, but I'm thinking that it is the very definition of irony. I mean, I paid $7.75 (the matinee price here in the LBC) and I guess I didn't deserve more than two or three laughs. Although seeing a movie with four co-workers and being the only five folks in the theater adds some value, right?

Come to think of it all... I'm not sure what I expected. Can I complain when I'm the idiot who placed such high hopes on such an obviously bad movie? I mean, I think the trailer settles the irony question once and for all. The tagline has no ironic value... it's just the truth. I paid $7.75 (along with a piece of my soul) and got exactly what I paid for.

Trip-Hop, You Don't Stop

2008-03-19T11:18:00.002-06:00

I'd heard the news a while back, but somehow the gravity of it escaped me. After a strange disappearance (was the Roseland NYC album really 11 years ago?!), Portishead returns in April with it's third LP. That extended absence has me realizing that I've neglected Portishead over the last couple years. And I've also neglected to preach the wonders of Portishead to the younger generation. You know, the kids who might have only been 11 or 12 when Roseland NYC dropped.

So, without getting into the nuts and bolts of Portishead's trip-hop sound and the sheer face-slapping power of Beth Gibbons' vocal trickery, I think I'll leave you with a gateway sample of what makes Portishead so incredible. You won't likely find a song as stunning and stop-what-you're-doing-right-now-and-give-your-full-attention-to-this as the track "Roads"—especially in its live, NYC perfection. Don't blame me if you end up watching this roughly 26 times in the next three hours.

Like what you've seen/heard? The first single ("Machine Gun") from the new album is available for purchase here (there's some tricky pounds/dollars conversion involved). For some reason it's not up on iTunes yet. If you're afraid of the conversion and just can't wait... well, I'll leave the illegal options upto you and keep my pious self out of it.

An Open Letter

2008-03-18T21:03:00.017-06:00

It's no secret at this point—I can't be trusted with this blahg. Just when you think I've established some sense of regularity and commitment, I let you down. I don't blame you for abandoning upto12. You say you haven't abandoned me? I know better. Google tells me that you're a fickle bunch and that you need more than one lousy (and quickly crushed) YouTube embed over the course of a month. And that's okay. I can appreciate your need for content. This is the worldwide web and there are roughly two bazillion other sites competing for your precious traffic and calculated clicks.

So I'm coming clean. I'm offering up some full disclosure. I owe you some accountability after 39 days of bad blahg behavior. So... whether you care to read it all or not, you're getting every viable excuse I've got.

1. The upto12 family took a vacation. Five days in California and as many rides on the Buzz Blaster as the Wilson Brothers could talk me into. But the Tower of Terror and a morning at Seal Beach made up for all the blasting. How is this an excuse for bad blahging? I have no idea.

2. Too much work-related travel. Two-and-a-half days in Mexico City. Another two-and-a-half in Frankfurt, Germany. And about 35 hours on a plane. Maybe it was only 30... but still. Flying a total of 25 hours to spend just more than twice that in Germany isn't ideal. On the bright side, it was my first trip to Europe and the bratwurst was exactly the high-fat-content blood blizzard I'd been hoping for.

3. Books. I've been reading. A lot. Probably more in the last two months than in the last two years combined. What has Mr. upto12 been reading? Two books by Jonathan Safran Foer. One by Cormac McCarthy. One by Nick Hornby (a re-run). Lots of magazines. And now I've started a novel by a girl named Zadie. In short, I've been allowing fiction to break my heart and put it back together again. The Safran Foer books were amazing. The Road still has me wrecked two weeks after I finished it. The re-run was perfect. And the magazines have given me enough fodder to start two months of conversations with the phrase, "I just read an article...." Now that I'm on the literacy bandwagon, feel free to leave your recommendations in the comments.

4. Basketball. I watch too much. I care too much. And I'm afraid I'm rubbing off on the upto12 offspring. Last week, the older Wilson started begging me to take him to a game. Time to start scrounging for some free tix.

5. Work. With a capital "W."

6. Rob & Big. If you're not watching this show, you're missing out. It's the funniest half-hour television has to offer—a strange and mostly ridiculous, laugh-out-loud buddy comedy somehow wrapped up in a reality-show format. I know it's on MTV. But just believe me on this one. Hop on the iTunes store and download the Season 3 premiere ("Poop in the Pool"). If you don't like it, I'll refund your money. Yeah, I know it's a free download. I was trying to be funny. I failed? I guess that's to be expected, isn't it?

7. Listening to Bon Iver on repeat (and anywhere I can find a live set). Someone needs to stop me. I'm serious. It's an epidemic. This collection of the most haunting, broken songs I've heard in ages feels like the perfect stuck-in-the-fog-of-a-too-long-winter album. And if these songs aren't somehow featured in the soundtrack of the film version of The Road, I'm going to be sorely disappointed. The only problem with Bon Iver is the pronunciation. Apparently, it's Bone Ee-Vayr (say it like a Frenchman and it makes sense, I guess), but I just can't bring myself to adopt the haughty tone required by that phonic breakdown. And that leaves me with Bawn Eye-Vuhr, which is certainly no better. Help, please.

8. Wasting loads of time here and here.

That's all I've got. (Well, I guess I've neglected to mention just flat-out laziness.) I'll keep trying not to fall off the face of the earth. You do the same, yeah?

This Will Help The Service Fees Go Down A Little Smoother

2008-02-25T10:37:00.002-07:00

BUY YOUR TICKETS HERE.

I Just Robbed A Grocery Store

2008-02-08T10:45:00.000-07:00

Forecast: Mostly sunny and 70°-ish (I'm pretending not to see the "Few Showers" mid-week). Hate me.

I Want My BBC

2008-02-05T09:04:00.000-07:00

There are a few reasons I wish I lived in the UK. Among them: the English Premier League, Nick Hornby, Bloc Party, Radiohead, Ricky Gervais. I had no idea, however, that the good ol' BBC (I think the Brits call it "the Beeb," yeah?) would give me another reason to jump the pond. Later With Jools Holland appears to be one of the most radical music-based shows of all time—proven by the celebratory 200th episode featuring Feist, Cat Power, Radiohead, Mary J. Blige, Dionne Warwick and Robyn Hitchcock.

I've seen bits and pieces of other episodes online and, strangely, through Comcast On Demand. But this episode is mind-'sploding. A couple video highlights for your viewing pleasure (all three clips are great, but I'm continually blown away by Thom Yorke and the Radioheads... just amazing musicians and bizarrely charismatic performers):

A Zero-Media Review

2008-02-01T11:43:00.001-07:00

I made it out of the suburbs and into downtown SLC for the French Quarter in-store performance at Slowtrain last night (holy moly... I think there are at least five prepositions in that sentence...). I wanted to take a picture or condense some of the happenings to a QuickTime file, but it just didn't seem right. The crowd was small. The atmosphere was friendly. And I really just didn't feel like being the annoying guy with a camera who couldn't wait to post some multimedia nuggets on his blahg. So I've got nothing for you to enjoy. Nothing but a reminder to go out and support the musicians you admire. Drive a couple miles. Walk through a block or two of slush. Drop a five-dollar bill in the donations box. Remember that most artists still have day jobs—or did before they left on a 12-city tour that doesn't include a single "real" venue.

French Quarter has been playing houses and record stores and bus stops for the past month or so. And it was apparent. They knocked out a 40-minute set, asked for some water and then tried to sell a record or two. The whole situation somehow uplifted and sank my spirits at the same time. Some bands/artists/troubadours deserve better. A custom bus. A hot shower. A night in a motel. A non-truck-stop dinner.

I guess this no-media review is no more than a simple request: If you appreciate a band (or if we want to get big-picture here, if you appreciate anyone), don't miss a chance to let them know. I've no doubt that French Quarter lost money on their tour. They probably have to go back to a cubicle or bookstore or produce department somewhere to gather enough change to make another album. But seeing/meeting/talking to 40 fans in a record store in Utah and another 50 in a house in Oregon just might convince them that it's all worth it.

Brilliant

2008-01-29T15:40:00.000-07:00

Watch this (maybe you've already seen it):

Then this:

Get it? Michel Gondry is a strange, radical genius. Seriously.

Thanks for making my day, Creent.

They've Done It Again

2008-01-25T16:37:00.000-07:00

I knew there was a video in the works for Black Mirror. I had no idea it would be THIS.

Have fun fiddling with the audio and removing different tracks (drums, vocals, hurdy-gurdy, etc.) to create your own version of the song. Crazy Canucks and their interactive, web-based musical videos... Applause!

UPDATE: This is blowing my mind. A couple killer audio combinations:

1+2+5=just vocals and drums
1+5+6=just vocals and strings

Dig in. Leave your favorite mash-ups in the comments, yeah?

CORRECTION: I should be referring to these mixes as "mash-downs" (thank you, Kyality). And don't forget to hit the spacebar, kids...!

I Can't Explain Why (And I'm Sure I'll Immediately Regret It)

2008-01-25T12:35:00.000-07:00

But I feel compelled to share this photograph:

My little brother unearthed what appears to be my first appearance in an American Apparel ad. I can't stop looking at it. Wow. Just wow. Do you feel sorry for this kid? Do you appreciate his unknown hipster fashion? Can you say anything to help me finally digest what I keep seeing here?

Feist + Fireworks = New Levels of Crushness

2008-01-24T09:58:00.000-07:00

Patrick Daughters delivers another stunning clip for Feist, this time for my favorite Reminder track, I Feel It All. There's not a lot to say about it other than it's fantastic and I've been watching it for the last 24 minutes, straight. Start your day the only way you should — watch it right now:

Check out the higher-quality QuickTime HERE.

Remember when she sang the same song on a bus? I do.

The Mystery, Revealed

2008-01-14T09:43:00.000-07:00

I didn't mean to tease the upto12-reading audience for an extended period of time. In fact, I didn't mean to tease at all. The truth is, I mostly forgot that I had hinted at a mystery album until a few of you reminded me. Anyway, friendly shopkeep Chris at Slowtrain ran straight to the shelves and grabbed this album when I told him to pick my final purchase on Thursday:

As far as a review goes, let's just say that I have no plans for taking Chris up on his if-you-don't-like-it-I'll-buy-it-back guarantee. In fact, I wouldn't even think of it. As far as I can tell, French Quarter is a one-man, singer-songwriter operation that dabbles in the sort of hushed emotional songs I tend to enjoy a bit too much. It's solid stuff and begs for repeated listenings before you can form any sort of opinion about the album as a whole.

Let's do this music critic/record label style: If you're a fan of Bon Iver or Andrew Bird or any other soothing, strumming, soft spoken crooners (even Elliott Smith fits the bill), you'll dig this album. Pick it up at Slowtrain or other independent record stores in your area.

Visit the French Quarter MySpace page (as much as I typically detest MySpace pages, it appears to be the only online source for info about the band/man/etc.).

Lunch Meeting = Slowtrain

2008-01-10T15:49:00.001-07:00

If you live in the greater Salt Lake metropolis and you're not buying your music at Slowtrain, it's time someone called you to repentance. Taking advantage of a lunch meeting downtown, I emptied my pockets of any remaining Christmas cash and felt good doing so. Shopkeeper Chris was playing a Mirah album that found its way into my bag (along with an Elliott Smith record and the newish Band of Horses LP) and — seeing as I still had about $15 to burn — let him choose my final purchase.

I don't want to spoil the surprise until I've given it a good listen, but Chris is a kind fellow who even backed the choice with an if-you-don't-like-it-I'll-buy-it-back-from-you guarantee — and that's about as solid a recommendation you'll find anywhere.

So that's that. Slowtrain is awesome and I only feel moderately self-conscious and lame every time I talk to the good folks there. Which, if you're wondering, is a hu-u-uge upgrade over the way I normally feel at record stores.

VISIT THE SLOWTRAIN WEBSITE

A Warning (I Guess)

2008-01-10T11:06:00.000-07:00

Ever have the feeling that today is gonna be the day (totally not in the Wonderwall sort of way) to change things for a while? I've got that feeling today. That no matter how it all goes down, things are gonna be different tomorrow. There's no avoiding it and no going back. And there's no telling if it's in a good way or a bad way. Truth told, it'll probably fall somewhere between in the end. And that's okay, too.

I guess I'm just saying that when everything's all scrambled tomorrow, don't say I didn't warn you.

The Shortest Flight To Minneapolis, Ever

2008-01-07T11:28:00.000-07:00

A couple months ago, Nick Hornby's newest novel, SLAM, was on sale at the Costco for $10. I threw it in the cart and I don't think Mrs. upto12 even noticed it was there hiding between the dino nuggets and the boneless/skinless chicken breasts. Still, last weekend's non-stop from SLC to Minneapolis (and the return) were the first opportunity I had to dig in.

It goes without saying that I loved it. I've made no secret of my Nick Hornby fandom here. But SLAM was a cut above even my more favorite Hornby works. I can't describe it and it's likely illogical (like everything else I love/enjoy/obsess about). It may have something to do with Tony Hawk. It may have something to do with child rearing. And it may not having anything to do with either. Just know that Nick Hornby's characters are some of the most endearing, likable, funny people you'll ever meet. And I was sad that SLAM ended after a mere 309 pages.

Buy the book wherever you prefer to buy books. I'd lend you mine, but it's already been promised to Kyality. And then Kakie. And then about 18 other people.

Let's Not Forget...

2008-01-02T19:44:00.000-07:00

One of my more idealistic arguments against end-of-year lists is that they all seem to place the grandest importance on albums, movies, songs, artists, etc. that have only had to establish their place in our minds for a month or two or three (or 12 at the most)—as a result slightly minimizing and/or abandoning the lasting greatness of artifacts that've maintained their place for a decade or more. I have a hard time believing that we'll all feel the same way about things a few years (or even weeks) down the road. Some things need time. I may adore the new Spoon album right now, but it's only been spinning 'round my noggin for a couple months at this point. What if its charm wears thin? And what if something else I've only given half a chance becomes my album of the quarter century?

With all this running through my mind, I've spent tonight doing a few essential things (mowing down some day-old Kung Pao, bathing the Wilson brothers), a few not-so-essential things (recounting some Christmas cash to see if I really have enough for a new guitar) and procrastinating everything else (work, mostly). To keep spirits up around the upto12 home – and likely spurred by the recent re-release of this classic – I fired up U2's Rattle and Hum.

I've been in love with R+H for more than 15 years (it's been out for 20 and if that doesn't make you feel old, I don't know what will) and after spending the last three weeks reading about the grandeur of bands that haven't been around for 15 months and albums that haven't been listened to 15 times, R+H stands out as something incredible and still unmatched. From the opening bars of Helter Skelter, Bono abuses the audience with every possible aside, rant and sermon. In some ways, it's unthinkable — here's an up-and-coming Irish band, fresh off a huge commercial success, covering the Beatles and Dylan-via-Hendrix (and even sampling Hendrix's Star Spangled Banner later on...), jamming with B.B. King, stammering about the hills of San Salvador and U.S. foreign policy. There's no subtlety within the tracks of R+H; every note seems packed with bombast and brash overstatement.

And somehow, in the midst of it all, it's the details and the almost-under-the-radar moments that drive R+H to its celebrated status: the breath-y "yeah" as Desire kicks off, the fade-out of Van Diemen's Land that leads to the single question from an interviewer (Q: "What would you say has happened between the writing of the Joshua Tree album, the recording of the Joshua Tree album and, uh, the tour and now the new songs?" A: "I don't know."), the Edge letting loose with flourishes of non-solo solos that still blister my ears, Bono's reference to Hill Street Blues in Bullet the Blue Sky...

In the last 10+ years, I've made a hundred mixtapes featuring tracks from R+H and nearly every one of them has included a mash-up of the Bonologues (thanks, Kyality) found on this album. It's just too perfect to have Side B open with Bono asking, "Am I bugging you?" a dozen times (not an easy task in the CD-to-cassette days) with an emphatic "I don't mean to bug ya!" at the end of it all. Another perfect bite: Bono's enunciation of "Ar-tists! A-gainst! A-par-t-heid!"

Yeah, this post is a mess. I'm too emotional about Rattle and Hum to write anything reasonably subjective or convincing, but if you've got it in your iTunes or on CD or on tape or 8-track or vinyl, do me a favor: Put it on, turn it up, sing along. Close your eyes at the crucial turns and the burned-in-your-brain choruses. Think about the trapeze artist and the little person you vaguely remember from the All I Want Is You video. And, remember that some albums should be on your Best Of lists every year—no matter when they were released.

p.s. - If any of you happen to find R+H on vinyl in better-than-average shape, just buy it and send it my way. The used vinyl selection here in the greater SLC metropolis lacks. I'll reimburse your costs, yeah?

Happy New Year, Indeed

2008-01-01T22:24:00.000-07:00

Maybe I'll gather some end-of-year thoughts and name a couple favorites. Maybe (I'd hate to make/break any promises here...). Until then, Thom Yorke and the boys delivered another fantastic webcast last night. This time they played all of In Rainbows. Yeah, all of it. No complaints here (obviously), but since when did the Paranoid Androids become the superfriends of cyberspace? I guess the boys bought a new server and aren't afraid to use it. Good on them, eh?

The Best Movie I've Seen In A Long Long While

2007-12-27T10:54:00.000-07:00

For three months, "Once" played at the Broadway Theatre here in SLC. For three months, I promised to go see it. But I'm lazy and I live in the suburbs (a deadly combination). It took a DVD rental for me to finally experience the best movie of the year.
I'll spare you the long-winded review and leave it at this: "Once" is the most straightforward, honest and precise storytelling I've seen in a while and it knocked me back a step or two. There are no unnecessary complications, no you're-not-gonna-believe-this twists. Just a story about two people and the music they create.

"Once" also raises the continual ridiculousness of the MPAA. It is a moral and upstanding film that somehow merits an "R" rating because of a handful of under-spoken obscenities (in heavy Irish accents, no less... somehow Irish accents soften expletives...). If you can convince me that a movie like "Once" is somehow more offensive than the latest Will Ferrell / Ben Stiller / Jim Carrey crapfest (all rated a kid-friendly PG-13), I'd like to hear your argument.

On that sour note, "Once" is brilliant. If you're one of the few music fans on the planet who haven't seen it, stop following my bad example. Watch it today. Seriously.

And Now My Mind Is Completely Blown

2007-12-21T12:54:00.000-07:00

Play this:

Hand Bell Hero

The best part? The post-game comments referring to me (and my bell-ringing skill level) as "Quasimodo."

This Is Blowing My Mind

2007-12-21T10:28:00.000-07:00

You'd think something like this would be big news, but I just stumbled upon it. Then again, I'm the only person I know without an XBOX360 or PS3 or Wii, so maybe no one else cares.

Guitar Hero III for Mac

Yeah, this means I can just play Guitar Hero on my iMac at home (or on my MacBook Pro + Cinema Display at work... hehe...). And for only $80. Do you think Santa's still accepting revised wishlists?

Hunh.

2007-12-14T09:27:00.001-07:00

"Daughtry" is #1 Album of 2007

"I'm tough and sensitive at the same time."

Just when you think there's hope for the world (like Feist appearing on the Today Show... which was weird and random in its own way... seriously, Ann Curry, Al Roker and crew talking about Feist... you just have to watch it), Cousin Rob's favorite dream-rocking artist takes control and reminds us all that there's nothing like a little watered-down, 12th-generation, Creed-loving jock rock to capture the hearts, souls and wallets of America.

At least Beyoncé delivered the #1 single... and you can't really complain about Beyoncé Jr. (Rihanna) flying in at #2, either.

Casual Friday

2007-11-30T09:36:00.000-07:00

About a year ago, Creent had this great idea to hide out in the gap between the cubicle wall and the actual wall and then scare the snot out of Dainon when he rolled in at his typically late 9:15 or so. We even got ready to do it once but Dainon delivered the surprise by showing up at the un-Dainon-ly hour of 8:45.

Today, however, things went off without a hitch. Clint brought the ninja mask. I rolled with the (what else?) luchador. And Melanee manned the camera. Notice that Dainon spotted the camera but his spidey sense obviously didn't kick in.

The reaction isn't otherworldly, but I'm loving the shake and the under-his-breath expletives. And don't miss Clint's diabolical cackle.

Oh yeah, and I have no clue why Dainon smells his scarf. No clue.

UPDATE: Creent grabbed a few stills from the video. I am a dork. A frightening dork, but still...

The Killers - "Don't Shoot Me, Santa"

2007-11-28T14:30:00.000-07:00

A humongous thank-you to D for making my afternoon with this clip:

Yeah, I know that D already posted it. And I know that it comes via Pitchfork. But I don't care. I'm breaking blogger rules and posting it anyway. It's just that good.

All Circles

2007-11-27T15:18:00.000-07:00

A while back, I caught Badly Drawn Boy at the Urban Lounge here in SLC. The opening act was a Londoner named Adem who I rather enjoyed. He had some nice eyeglasses and I promised that my next pair would closely resemble his. He also sang a wonderful cover of the Beach Boys' "God Only Knows". It's likely that I made a mental note to look up his stuff at a later date.

But mental notes are only mental notes and Adem never quite made it to the top of my check-this-artist-out-later pile. Until today. Kakie reminded me of one of my favorite television ads of the past two/three years. I did a little quick research to track down the singer(s) responsible for the too-cool rendition of "Walk the Line". Results: Adem Ilhan (same guy as above) sings the male version. Megan Wyler (who apparently hasn't released any music anywhere) takes care of the female version.

Of course, I went on an .mp3 search. I'm typically good at this stuff. But there's nothing. Neither Adem's version nor Ms. Wyler's is anywhere to be found in all of cyberspace. At least not in the parts I care to access.

But I did find this, a YouTube clip of the song (and some others...watch as much as you like) that got me interested in this Adem fellow in the first place. So everything is circles. And I'm a bit happier now than I was this morning.

The Crown Jewel

2007-11-27T10:46:00.000-07:00

Some of you know that I've adopted a daily uniform. Hoodie, Levi's jeans, t-shirt, sneakers. Every single day. Last week, Kyality dropped a tip on the gnarliest hoodie ever invented. It's the capstone, the crown jewel to my already somewhat impressive collection of hooded sweatshirts. So...

I need to find THIS in a Men's L.
If you look closely, the hood zips all the way upto your eyes—it's a built-in ninja mask.

Help me find it. Leave links in the comments or something. Please.

There Will Be Feasting

2007-11-15T20:48:00.000-07:00

I'll leave the Mountain Goats alone after this, I promise. Maybe. 'Til then, you probably ought to watch this:

Restless

2007-11-14T20:03:00.000-07:00

I've made changes. I don't know if I like them. We'll see how long they/I last. If you've an opinion, you could probably sound off in the comments (and you could also probably undertake a healthy mental self-examination that starts with the question, "Why do I have an opinion about the visual appeal of the generally rubbish upto12 blahg?"). Let's move on, then.

Of late, I've felt more 31 than ever. And there are only a couple things that seem positive about feeling more 31 than ever. One of them: "The Sunset Tree" by the Mountain Goats. I know, I'm behind the curve again (duh); it's been out for a few years now. In my defense however, the album's been securely lodged in my iTunes for at least 6 months (at least!). But over the last month, wow, John Darnielle's masterpiece has been the soundtrack of too many too-late nights at the office and the utterly depressing feeling attached to walking down the back stairwell into the dark (even if it's only 6:00pm) parking lot and trudging toward a car that is the only remaining blemish on a now-spotless grid. Dramatic, eh? I don't apologize.

All that said, John Darnielle manages to construct an album that sounds and feels (to me, anyway) like being 31. Yes, I know "The Sunset Tree" is all about abusive, alcoholic, dysfunctional families and strained relationships. But I'm not talking about lyrics or words or symbols here. I'm talking about the way a song feels when its rhythms and twists and turns stick in your head. As strange as it seems for a writer to admit, I don't listen to lyrics much. I'm not a word-obsessed academic. Truth is, I don't care much at all for words themselves. But I do love the sounds they make, the beats they create and the stops and runs they forge in a song. And, despite (or because of...) the fact that his vocal inflections make take some getting used to, I don't know that anyone can match the lyrical rhythm of John Darnielle and his Mountain Goats records.

I suppose there's a solid endorsement here somewhere, a "go out and buy this record!" or something. But I'm also willing to admit that this sort of album may only be suited for 31-year-olds who are feeling more 31 than ever. And that's just all right. Someday you'll be 31 and "The Sunset Tree" will be waiting.

Just Plain Ridiculous

2007-11-08T15:25:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, Kyality was acting all sorts of fishy. He wouldn't say what was up. But I knew he was causing trouble. Mid-afternoon rolled around and he called with a one-sentence command: Be at Struck at 7:00pm on the dot.

I'm a blindly obedient soul, so I arrived at the studio at 6:54 without asking a single question. What followed was likely one of the greatest sports-related evenings of my life. Courtside seats at the Energy Solutions Arena for the Jazz v. Cavs game. And by courtside, I mean COURT-SIDE. As in sitting on the floor right next to the team. Jazz coach Jerry Sloan was less than 4 feet away and spent plenty of time waving his arms dangerously close to my recently busted beak (not to mention the time spent with his hindquarters equally dangerously close to that same beak). This also means that LeBron James was often within whispering distance (yeah, I told him what time it was...) and I had a view unlike any other I may ever experience again.
Anyway, a HUGE gracias goes out to Jeff Wright at Struck (the cool cat sitting dead center in the photo below) who owns such ridiculous basketball real estate and was willing to share with a friend/client.
Some more photographic evidence (most courtesy of Kyality's iPhone):

I'd Rather Be In Austin

2007-11-07T10:04:00.000-07:00

The new season of Austin City Limits kicked off last weekend with (what else?) another practically perfect set from Wilco. This time, Jeff Tweedy and the fellas occupied the whole hour and delivered the goods — a comprehensive set of SKY BLUE SKY tracks and a few oldies (Too Far Apart, anyone?) to round things out.

CHECK OUT PICTURES AND VIDEO CLIPS HERE.

I'd post a YouTube clip or something, but apparently the Capitol of Texas Public Communications Council is all about protecting copyrighted material. Any and all clips have been banished. Maybe someday ACL episodes will be available on iTunes or something. We can dream, right? For now, if you want to watch it—come over to my house. I've got it safely tucked away on the DVR...

Up next week: Arcade Fire. Rumor has it megaphones will be violently smashed in next Saturday's installment, so you now have every reason to tune in.

The Absentee Blogger

2007-11-06T09:11:00.000-07:00

We've been over this before. There's no excuse for a delinquent blogger. As a small token of repentance and as an attempt at explanation... Here's what I've been upto for the last month or so:

I'm It

2007-10-15T10:58:00.000-06:00

Totally not sure about the chain-blog implications of my waiting a week or two to take care of this, but Kyality tagged me so let's get it over with.

Jobs I have had:
1 – Dental Office Janitor/Custodian
2 – Frito Lay Warehouse Seasonal Laborer
3 – Carpet Cleaner
4 – Vending/Gumball Machine Service Technician

Movies I could watch over and over:
1 – Field of Dreams
2 – About A Boy
3 – I Am Trying To Break Your Heart
4 – Goonies

Favorite TV Shows:
1 – Friday Night Lights (hoping the sophomore season doesn't disappoint...)
2 – The Office
3 – Scrubs
4 – LOST

Favorite Hobbies:
1 – Records
2 – Soccer
3 – Baseball
4 – Lucha Libre

Places I have lived:
1 – Colotenango, Guatemala
2 – Taft, California
3 – Portland, Oregon
4 – West Jordan, Utah

Favorite Foods:
1 – Pork
2 – BBQ Chicken Pizza (Wasatch, please)
3 – Jumbo Chocolate Chip Cookies
4 – Double Double

Places I'd rather be:
1 – Portland, Oregon
2 – On Stage With Wilco
3 – Backstage With Jenny Lewis (wink wink, nudge nudge)
4 – The Beach

Websites I visit:
1 – Simmons
2 – Shots Ring Out
3 – Craigslist
4 – RSL/XANGO

No, I'm not tagging anyone else. Yes, I fully realize the metaphysical consequences of such chain-breaking and I'm prepared to face them, head-on.

Flash-ing Neon Bible

2007-10-08T09:07:00.000-06:00

I think this is more important than it probably is... but couldn't something like this completely alter the music video landscape (or what's left of it, anyway)?

CLICK AROUND

UPDATE: Mr. Dan Christofferson pointed out the obvious -

beonlineb = neon bible

Should've seen this coming, I guess. Nice work, Dan.

My Mind's Not Right

2007-10-02T20:28:00.001-06:00

The day after the recently chronicled adventure at Red Rocks, Kyality, Mrs. Kyality and Mrs. upto12 all made their way back to the Salt Lake valley. I, on the other hand, had some business to attend to in the heart of Denver. The National (along with startlingly awesome opener St. Vincent) were in town for the night and — seeing as Alligator and Boxer are two of my top 10 albums of the last five years — there was no way I could miss out.
It only took 45 seconds to scalp my three extra tickets (at face value, of course...) and I was parked right up front in the historic venue. The Ogden is a nice place, the kind of place Salt Lake could use. Probably a touch smaller than the Depot and much, much classier than In the Venue or the pitiful Urban Lounge. If you care to know, Feist and the Swell Season will be there on back-to-back nights sometime in November.

At any rate, the crowd was energetic, yet polite — my type of people — and Annie Clark (St. Vincent) got things rolling with beats built for a dance party and a boatload of guitar antics. I was unsettled by her performance. She's such an unassuming performer...not in a hundred year would you guess that such a demure, soft-spoken (and, yes, pretty) girl would knock your socks of with bass and manic guitar licks all mashed up and sprinkled with a voice as powerful as any you'll hear in a while. But the surprise was not unwelcome. By the end of her set, I was a believer. And I wasn't alone.
This late in the game, there's little to say about the National. Critics love 'em. Hipsters call their latest albums "growers," but I disagree completely. The songs of the National instantly find their way under my skin. It's an immediate addiction. It started with Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers, evolved with Alligator and, now, with Boxer, I'm a fullblown junkie looking for a daily fix. I can't get enough of Matt Berninger's baritone lyrical fits and repetitions.
This confession renders any objective review of the show unnecessary and invalid. I loved it. The band warmed up quickly and delivered a non-stop set that rarely strayed from the better-known tracks found on the last two albums.

A madman nearly destroyed a violin.
The drummer looked more Muppet (Animal, even, how perfect is that?) than human.
And I brought home a few bits and pieces for the stalwarts, the remaining 14 upto12 readers (you're dropping like flies at this point and I don't blame you).

Start a War

Secret Meeting

Daughters of the Soho Riots

The Rocks Really Are Red

2007-09-28T13:38:00.000-06:00

I've been buying tickets like ice cream sandwiches this summer. The National? I'll take four. White Stripes? Two floor, two on the 4th row (all canceled). Arcade Fire at Red Rocks? That's near Denver, right? Four, please. Arcade Fire again in my backyard? Duh. Four more. All this reckless spending has landed me in some hot water with Mrs. upto12 (who runs at tight ship at upto12 headquarters).

That said, the Red Rocks adventure was worth every penny. A quick Southwest flight, a cheap motel room and a $4 pretzel landed us in relatively prime seats at the Red Rocks Amphitheatre just before 7pm. After everything I'd heard, I was scared to be disappointed, but the venue lives up to the hype (much like the Gorge...). And Denver's quickly climbing my "I-could-definitely-live-here" charts. With the National playing the following night, I was happy to stick around for an extra day and browse some modern furniture shops before catching a few innings of a Rockies-Dodgers day game.

Readers: Stop fretting. I've heard you loud and clear. Due to the outrageous length of my Wilco post and because of the backlog of things I need to cover here, I'll end now and hope that my inadequate photography and videography paint a better picture than my inadequate (and long-winded) writing.

Kyality, upto12, Mrs. upto12:
The view:LCD Soundsystem:The Fire:
The crowd, the rocks:
Kyality and Mrs. Kyality:
Intervention (missed the first 15 seconds...):
Wake Up (wow, just wow):

An Open Letter

2007-09-27T09:16:00.000-06:00

To the Concert-Going Public of Utah County (especially the pack of yaks — male and female — near the stage who groped, pushed, punched, tugged and generally violated every concept of reasonable crowd behavior):

You suck.

Today Is Gonna Be The Day

2007-09-26T09:35:00.000-06:00

By some stroke of sheer ridiculosity, Arcade Fire and LCD Soundsystem bring their traveling magnificence to Lehi, UT today. Yup, you heard right. The Waterfall Amphitheatre at Thanksgiving Point (just a three-minute walk from my place of employment) will host the summer's most fantastic show.

Having seen this lineup at the Red Rocks Amphitheatre just a week ago, I have no problem commanding anyone without a ticket to go purchase one, immediately. Unlike the $36 you spent on that Dave Matthews Band t-shirt, you will never regret this.

A couple pictures and the coolest non-official Arcade Fire video I've ever seen:

Sometimes It Takes A While

2007-09-25T20:20:00.000-06:00

After many sharp words from a few all-too-loyal readers (I have readers? Still? Really?), I'm right back. I'm ready to go. So let's proceed.

Mrs. Upto12 made Father's Day a good one this year. She showered me with gifts and undue praise — coming through with the double winner: tickets to see Wilco at the Greek Theatre in Berkeley on August 24 and tickets to a Giants game the following day. A weekend in San Francisco. Sans kids. That's really all I need to say.

After spending most of a day wandering through the shops and streets of Berkeley (on the opening weekend of classes at Cal, no less), we made our way to the venue. I guaranteed that we arrived early and had our pick of standing places. Mrs. Upto12 graciously settled for an awful, soggy $7 chicken sandwich instead of the finer California cuisine she'd be craving all afternoon. And we were set.

The stage sits high at the Greek. So high that standing directly in front of the stage can seriously limit your sightlines. With that in mind, we opted for a stage-right perch just three steps up the amphitheatre. The band stood eye-level and we couldn't have been more than 35 feet from the stage.

Our perch, the rest of the crowd:
I won't waste time on the opening act, Richard Swift. He was adequate. I've heard some of his recorded material and thought the same thing ("adequate"). I wasn't severely disappointed. I wasn't incredibly impressed. He played his songs. The audience applauded. And we all hoped that the slight drizzle would remain just that, sparing us the downpour that threatened.

Soon enough, Mr. Swift was done, his gear was cleared and the Greek slowly filled to capacity. And just as darkness settled, the boys from Chicago took the stage. I'm tempted here to drift into a song-by-song review. It's all in my memory, burned there along with too much secondhand smoke (of the legal and illegal varieties, I'm afraid). But I think a few passing thoughts will suffice.

Opening with the first two tracks on Sky Blue Sky ("Either Way" and "You Are My Face"), Wilco banished every incoherent Eagles comparison that's been hastily slapped together in the last year. Wilco is not, has never been and will never be similar to the Eagles. Sky Blue Sky is not "the best album the Eagles never made." Let's get this all out of our collective minds. The Eagles are, were and always will be incapable of the kind of work Wilco has aspired to. Frankly, I don't care for the Eagles one bit. I hate "Hotel California." I think "Desperado" is a lousy, derivative country track. And I think Don Henley's a hack. Perhaps I'm immature and unable to comprehend the greatness of the Eagles... but after hearing Wilco perform just two songs, I think you'd feel the same way.

Tweedy and Cline:
Each member of Wilco is a professional. But not a steady, stable, evenhanded studio-musician-type. These are experimental professionals. Men who have mastered the art of structural and musical improvisation. They're not avoid to tear a song apart and pick up the pieces at a moment's notice. Jeff Tweedy continues his pace as the finest songwriter of this generation. Nels Cline is a madman and he was in rare form, kicking and jumping and inspiring shrugs and giddy grins from Jeff and John. Glenn Kotche astounds with every rhythmic jump and his ability to create the percussive brilliance of five or six men. John Stirratt holds the whole show together with a steady bassline and careful harmonies. And Mikael and Pat, well, I'm not sure exactly what they do, but they do it well. Working knobs and laptops and keyboards and guitars and every other bit of rock paraphernalia you could imagine.

The band is simply impressive, covering tracks from every era of Tweedy's catalog. They even dipped into A.M. territory for "Too Far Apart"... a move even I didn't expect. The sound was dead-on and tracks from the newer albums (especially those from Sky Blue Sky) hit my ears like never before. That may be the best argument for the canonization of a band like Wilco — their live shows make you a fan of everything they play. You never leave a Wilco show thinking, "Hunh. That was good. But that one song sounds a lot better on the album." You could argue the absolute inverse, in fact. You leave, shaking your head, anxious to dig right back into every album — looking for the nooks and crannies that the band takes every opportunity to explore and exploit.

I've seen Wilco five times now. More than I've seen any other single band. And I'd go see them again tonight, wherever they're playing. There's a bit of nostalgia involved, I imagine. Wilco reminds me of some good days. Living in Provo, my friend, Chris, and I happened upon a copy of Being There and we were hooked. And Wilco is one of the first bands I had a jump on. I was down with Wilco before the world was. And that makes me proud (and snobby, I know).

All of this said, I love this band. Jeff Tweedy writes songs that hit me in ways that others simply can't. And seeing Wilco live is about as close to a perfect musical experience as I can imagine. No matter what Jeff Tweedy says on the "Shake It Up" promo video (with the deluxe edition Sky Blue Sky) this is not a good band singing and playing some nice songs. This is a great band, singing and playing difficult songs, beautiful songs, some of the only songs that matter.

The whole crew:

And now, the multimedia. But first, a disclaimer:
I'm still figuring out the movie feature on our new digital camera, so please forgive the shakiness...and don't expect more than a minute or two from me...I'm just can't seem handle more than that. I've usually got to get back to shaking myself in some non-rhythmic fashion.

"You Are My Face"

"Impossible Germany"

"California Stars"

Catch-Up

2007-09-20T10:11:00.000-06:00

This is a warning shot of sorts. It's been a busy month or two and I'm getting prepared to talk about it. It's all digested now and my opinions are formed. In the course of the last month, I've seen Calexico, Wilco, LCD Soundsystem, Arcade Fire, St. Vincent and the National. Next week I hope to see the New Pornographers (while catching Arcade Fire and LCD Soundsystem again right here in my employer's backyard... Thanksgiving Point... who knew?).

I'm not sure if things will go down in chronological order or not. We'll see. But it should be a rich multimedia experience. I'm exploring Web 2.0 and someday I may even actually understand what that confounding term means.

Be right back...

"The Safe Way to Break and Pop"

2007-08-07T11:29:00.001-06:00

Built to Spill - The Depot - SLC - July 21, 2007

2007-07-24T09:27:00.000-06:00

How's that for a creative post title, eh? After "concertutional" I figured it best to play it safe this morning. Especially when we're dealing with a band that has often been considered one of Idaho's three greatest exports. (Well, okay, maybe not often... maybe my Idahoan compadre, Emron, is the only person to ever call Built to Spill "one of Idaho's three greatest exports." But he's said it many many times. And I tend to agree with him. The other two great exports? Potatoes (duh) and Emron himself. Although I hear sugar beets are gaining on those famous potatoes.)

It has been close to six years since I've seen Built to Spill. I never braved the Portland crowds to see them in at the Crystal Ballroom during their two/three night residencies there (the Northwest loves them some Built to Spill). I figured the best way to reacquaint myself with Doug Martsch and crew was to head to the Depot with the same crew that accompanied me on the last BTS trek (a pre-Ancient Melodies show at the mercifully closed DV8). So, aforementioned Emron, Kyality and I made to the Depot just in time for the opening act.

First things first, the Depot is amazing. It's brand new and the nicest club-style venue in Utah. Maybe the nicest club-style venue within a few states. The sound is amazing. The bathrooms are humongous. The air conditioning works. And there's really not a bad spot in the place. You can sit at a table. Stand against a pillar. Wander upstairs to the balcony/mezzanine. Or just plant yourself 20 feet from the stage and soak up every note. It could be the most comfortable concert experience I've had that didn't involve a hillside and a blanket.

I'll spare you the long-winded review and sum things up quickly. Built to Spill packs a punch. If you haven't seen them live, you probably ought to take the plunge. It's a tough experience to explain. The guitar work is pure madness and the time changes have the rhythm section earning their dollars. And Doug's voice, even though it was completely shot and caused him to mumble, "Some of these songs are going to be more instrumental than usual," Doug's voice is a little breath of levity in the midst of the guitar virtuosity. My attempt is failing. I knew it would. There's nothing I can write to describe the excitement of a Built to Spill show. So I'm giving up. Just know that it was amazing. I loved it. Even if I forgot my camera and had to settle for a pile of bad camera phone images like this one:

And maybe this strangely high-quality video will express a bit of what I couldn't:

Doug is the fellow on the far right who looks like your seventh-grade band teacher.

A Modest Proposal

2007-07-23T11:54:00.000-06:00

I'm calling for a Concertutional Ammendment (Did I really just type that? Concertutional? Wow...). It's simple, really. And it will only improve every live music experience you ever have. Here's the proposal:

All opening bands should have to cover one of the headliner's songs. Consider it a warm-up, a bridge to the main act. Something to remind you why you're so excited to be there while you're leaning against a wall hoping that the opener has a couple roadies backstage to help expedite the gear removal process. Think about hearing Malkmus tackle a Radiohead track (he opened for them in 2002 in SLC) or Calexico doing Wilco (2004, Kingsbury Hall) or LCD Soundsystem getting into some Arcade Fire (in 56 days...) or Rilo Kiley doing their best Modest Mouse (in 49 days). The potential is there.

Sound off if you're with me.

My First Twilight

2007-07-19T23:51:00.001-06:00

So...I just figured out that I have lived in Utah for seven of the past 10 years. I'm not entirely sure how it happened, but that's quite a bit of time served in the Beehive State. And, while I'm certainly known to voice a disgruntled opinion or two about this place, I'd like to think I've come around quite a bit. I even appreciated D's love letter to Utah summers. Didn't completely agree, but I could get behind his reasoning.

Why do I bring this up? Well tonight was a solid Utah night. Almost made me a little happy to call this place home. Even if I did have to drive across the ridiculous sprawl to get to my suburban home tonight. What made it so nice? Slowtrain and my first appearance at a Twilight Series concert.

The good folks at Slowtrain Music have been well recognized lately, showing up on the cover of SLUG magazine and subtly hyping their one-year anniversary party on KRCL's morning drive-time show. The place is run by a husband-wife duo and they're just about as kind and unassuming as two record store owners have ever been. No Jack-Black-in-High-Fidelity here. Just nods and smiles and special orders and records set aside for eager buyers. Tonight's special purchase—The Reminder (Feist) on vinyl. Arrived in a shipment today and Chris promptly dialed my cell to let me know he'd set aside a copy with my name on it. I gladly plunked down the $11.99 (a steal!) and added some plastic record sleeves—the fifth piece of vinyl I've purchased there in a month. I'm on a li'l binge. And, with the way I'm treated at 221 E. 300 S., I may never stop.

I left Slowtrain, parked my car in the Struck lot and walked the three SLC blocks (they're huge... three SLC blocks equal about 15 Portland city blocks or close to 1/2 mile... no joke) to the Gallivan Center, where every class and type of hip being awaited the Fiery Furnaces / Yo La Tengo double-bill. Old hippies. Young hippies. Clean hippies. Dirty hippies. Old hipsters. Young hipsters. Clean hipsters. Dirty hipsters. Downtown SLC can be a Dr. Seuss book populated with (mostly) Caucasian variety. It's kind of a strange sight... everyone's white, but everyone's different. Enh... I guess you'd have to see it. I've reread it three times, and, frankly, my explanation's not doing anyone any good. Let's move on.

Fiery Furnaces got things rolling and I really don't have much to say about their performance. They're solid musicians—they've got to be to keep up that frantic pace while keeping track of the endless time changes (3/4, 4/4, 6/8, you name it...). I just don't know that I'm capable of catching up with them. Perhaps my indifference to the Furnaces is nothing more than a symptom of my greater affinity for music that goes down a little smoother. I don't dislike the Furnaces. I even appreciate what they're going for. But I doubt I'll be choosing to see them again. It's not them, it's me. No, seriously...

I guess now is the best time to mention that, by the time the Fiery Furnaces left the stage, the Gallivan Center was packed to the brim. I staked out the usually safe territory behind the sound board, dead center about 50 yards from the stage. But the crowds flooded through every pathway and bit of open space the square had to offer. This is no lazy summer in the park. It's a scene (Or is it an arms race, D? Did you ever get that sorted out?) and once you've found your spot, don't plan on moving from it—there's no place to go. A step forward pinned me to the rails around the sound booth. A step back landed a strange fellow's hand in my back pocket. By 8:30, the Gallivan Center was in full-blown pedestrian/spectator gridlock.

Honestly, I was fine with all of it. It's hard to exhibit my typical "shut-up-and-listen" elitism at a free, city-hosted gig like this. I do my best to listen and try to avoid the distractions. Luckily, Yo La Tengo blistered their way through the sideshows. And by blistered, I mean scorched, screamed, soloed, sizzled. From note one, the three-piece outfit let loose a string of keyboard and guitar assaults that can only be described with shrugs and gasps. And the setlist was just about dead-on. The covered my absolute YLT faves, moving straight from Autumn Sweater into Let's Save Tony Orlando's House and later served up a near a capella version of You Can Have It All. They saved Sugarcube for the tail end of the set and delivered a relatively succinct encore that wrapped with a (seemingly) impromptu version of a Zombies track I've never heard of (then again, I don't know any Zombies tracks at all... how that for a completely un-hipster-like confession?).

So that was that. My first Twilight show. And it won't be my last. Peter Bjorn and John arrive (with Apostle of Hustle) later this month and Calexico comes to town in August (the day before I see Wilco in Berkeley...I'm working around the clock on the logistical possibilities of seeing both).

Walk Away Now

2007-07-18T19:57:00.000-06:00

So now that I've admitted to spending the last month or so soaking every note of Boxer into my bones, I probably ought to fess up to my addiction to La Blogoteque's Take-Away Shows video podcast. The series started up a while ago and it appears that friend-of-the-National, Vincent Moon is the visionary videographer (cinematographer? director? best boy? gaffer?) behind most of the spots. Check it out with this disclaimer: watch one and you're hooked. Every clip is hypnotic in its own way, especially when it's the Shins strolling down a street and starting into a Calexico cover before arriving at their eventual Gone for Good performance destination. Or when Sufjan Stevens spins and sings on a rooftop. Or when two fellows from the National head out on a sailboat and deliver a bare-bones version of Gospel. That said, the following two have been on nonstop rotation at the upto12 workspace:

Start a War kills me and the dinner-table performance is a pure stunner.

I know, attention spans are short these days. But carve out 15:27 for this required viewing. Please. Do this one thing for yourself. You won't regret it. Especially when you realize that a bit of the elevator percussion involves pages being torn from a phone book.

You can subscribe to the podcast by clicking on the iTunes link on the right side of the Les Concerts a Emporter page (it's all in French, so good luck... okay, fine, here's the English language page). You can only access the last 15 or so via iTunes, but you'll find all the shows at DailyMotion (just search for "take away shows").

Wha Ha-pen?

2007-07-17T20:23:00.000-06:00

Where have I been? What happened to this blog? Why don't I write? Theories are everywhere:

I'm lazy. I'm a bad writer. I have no original ideas. I can't handle the pressure of an audience. I'm too busy watching Rob & Big. I'd rather play Spider Solitaire on the BlackBerry. I'm too cool for a blog. I'm not cool enough for a blog. I got a new turntable. I spent 5 days at the Grand Wailea (on company dollars, no less). I spent 5 days in Wyoming. I drove across northern Nevada twice in four days with only one night of sleep in between. I have trouble waking up in the morning. I drink too much Diet Coke. I can't stop listening to Boxer (the National). I can't stop listening to The Reminder (Feist). I bought tickets to see the White Stripes and Arcade Fire and Built to Spill and the National (Arcade Fire and the National on back-to-back nights in Denver... holy holy). I buy four tickets to every show without knowing if anyone else wants to go. I play golf. I own at least five golf shirts. I own golf shoes. I'm moving up the corporate ladder. I have no idea where I'm going. I miss Portland more than I should. I'm reading the only Nick Hornby book I haven't read (A Long Way Down) and it's fantastic. I sleep with a baseball bat next to my bed. I've decided to buy records instead of CDs. I have horrible manners. I shrug a lot. I wink even more. I've given up on learning to whistle. I do my best to maintain a clean and orderly cubicle. I keep a change of clothes in the trunk of my car. I refer to my sons as "The Chubby" and "The Scrawny". I enjoyed Live Free or Die Hard a little too much. I eavesdrop. I have no excuse.

So that's that. Take your pick. Leave another couple in the comments. I know better than to promise that this post signals a change in my behavior... but I can hope, right?

Where Are You Now That I Need You, Dr. Emmett Brown?

2007-05-31T23:12:00.000-06:00

I need Dr. Emmett Brown and his flux capacitor. And I need him to make one modification to the Dolorean. I'm asking him to fiddle with the space-time continuum. I need a few more hours of today. It's not a crazy request. The way I figure, being able to squeeze an extra few hours out of an extra-good day is worth just as much as the ability to avoid disintegration by reuniting George and Lorraine. That's all. I just want today to last a little longer. It's been that good. It really has...

If You Need A Reminder...

2007-04-18T13:51:00.000-06:00

The Lovely Leslie Feist's new album on Arts & Crafts (The Reminder) hits the street on May 1. Everything I've heard is, well, wonderful. Kate has the whole thing and says it's absolutely mesmerizing. I've promised to abstain from listening until the official drop date... but I've caved on similar commitments. And I have a feeling that each viewing of this video decreases the odds that I'll actually wait it out.

Also, I was talking with D the other day and we're both fairly certain that Feist is the type of girl that wouldn't exactly spin your head as she walked down the street, but the second she started humming a tune (or - heaven help us! - singing and prancing about), she'd become the sort of girl you follow home and stalk for the next six months. Not that I'd ever do anything of the sort...

I Can't Stop Thinking About This

2007-04-13T10:16:00.000-06:00

The National Join Arcade Fire for U.S. Dates

But I probably should. I just can't help but hate people who live on the East coast (or, well, not in Utah)... lu-uh-cky.

Unplug Your Ears

2007-04-13T09:09:00.000-06:00

Apparently I'm all about cause-related movements these days, what with Cinco de Mustache spreading across the land. "What now?" you ask... Well...

Like most corporate, cubicled workplaces, the place I spend my 9-to-5 is a place of headphones. Whether it's out of courtesy or a curmudgeonly desire for solitude, everyone rocks their iTunes about as noiselessly as possible. And I'm typically cool with that. We all know that I've go no desire to hear so-and-so get happy to Broadway show tunes...

However, I'm tired of headphones. I'm tired of earbuds. I'm ready for music that invades the atmosphere. I want to keep upping the volume.
So, about a month ago, I initiated No Headphones Friday. Armed with just a simple set of $30 speakers gifted to me at the Christmas holiday, I've launched an assault on solitude. I take requests (and sometimes even honor them). I'm the DJ of cubelandia. And everyone loves it. No joke. We're all quietly dying for a collective listening experience. It makes us happy. It'll make you happy. Try it out. That crazy half-German fellow sitting on the other side of the partition might just love you for it.

It's a Cause-Related Movement

2007-04-12T21:05:00.000-06:00

Creent got it all started. And you can read about it over at D's place. But all you really need to know is this: Growing season is upon us and you've still got three weeks to put your best facial follicles forward. So join up. ¡Pronto!

Hey Papa! Did You Bring Me A Prize?

2007-04-03T09:25:00.000-06:00

When your dad goes to Mexico for a couple days, nothing quite says, "I missed you, son" like a handful of Mexican candy and a lucha libre mask (with attached cape!).

Being four years old must rule.

You'll Never Guess

2007-03-22T21:03:00.000-06:00

There was a package waiting for me when I arrived home tonight. From FILTER magazine. Full of CDs. It turns out that the long-awaited winnings from I AM FUEL, YOU ARE FRIENDS had finally reached the upto12 home. And, while I was supposed to receive a simple copy of the Stranger Than Fiction soundtrack, I also received a few bonus albums for being such a patient and good-natured winner (or something like that).

The final haul:
Mrs. upto12 is pretty happy about the Sarah McLachlan album and the comprehensive Depeche Mode Best Of disc (18 songs and 23 videos!). I couldn't be happier about the Emily Haines album - I've been forgetting to buy it for months.

Thank you, Heather!

Now if only that autographed Calexico album would show up on my doorstep...

Urban Lounge, SLC - Badly Drawn Boy - 11:55pm

2007-03-20T11:10:00.000-06:00

Kyality: He's drifting off into the abyss

(Three false starts of a Thunder Road cover)

(The first verse and chorus of Like A Virgin)

(The opening bars of Silent Sigh)

upto12: Well, if the abyss leads him from Like A Virgin directly into Silent Sigh, I hope Mr. Drawn-Boy follows that abyss whever it takes him.

Go Buy This Album

2007-03-13T10:30:00.000-06:00

As usual, I'm behind the curve on this one, but I picked up Regina Spektor's Begin to Hope about two months ago (gave it to Wife Of upto12 for her birthday, actually) and every song is a humm-able bit of delicious pop sweetness. No joke. It'll be the best sub-$10 purchase you make this month.

And... to solidify your Regina fandom, I'll one-up Kate's mandate. Watch this:

Big Day

2007-03-09T16:03:00.000-07:00

Last Thursday was an incredibly big day for some true friends of upto12. Visit them:
www.struckcreative.com

And read about the shenanigans:
Struck blog

Why I Love Nick Hornby and Why I'm Convinced That He Knows Me Personally

2007-03-09T15:07:00.000-07:00

In his own words (from Fever Pitch):

"I just felt as though I had come off the rails somewhere.

"I had no idea at what point this might have happened. Indeed, I wasn't even sure which rails these were. I had loads of friends, including girlfriends, I was in work, I was in regular contact with all the members of my immediate family, I had suffered no bereavements, I had somewhere to live . . . I was still on all the tracks that I could think of; so what, precisely was the nature of the derailment? All I know is that I felt, inexplicably, unlucky, cursed in some way that would not be immediately apparent to anyone without a job or a lover or a family. I knew myself to be doomed to a life of dissatisfactions: my talents, whatever they were, would go permanently unrecognised..."

I'm sure none of you have ever felt that way. I mean, I haven't... but if I had (or if I did), Mr. Hornby uses just the right words to explain the inexplicable.

You Need To Watch This

2007-03-07T09:16:00.000-07:00

At least three times. In the next 20 minutes. I'm not joking.

Obviously

2007-02-15T21:19:00.000-07:00

My blog output is inversely related to my travel schedule. You'd think it'd be the other way, right? That traveling would give me more to write about... But you'd be wrong. You'd be dead wrong. And if I had a therapist, he (she?) would certainly say something about my self-destructive blogging tendencies. Something about how I stop writing just to eliminate my audience and reduce the pressure to write a decent word or two on a regular basis. My therapist would be wrong. But probably not dead wrong. Just normal wrong.

The Answer

2007-01-12T18:30:00.000-07:00

The man in the photo (the nice-looking Londoner on the left in the previous post) is Jonathan Ive.
Read about him here... but all you really need to know is that he has designed three undeniably stunning, usable and life-changing devices. Most people would die to match that in a lifetime. He's done it in the last 15 years.
In hindsight, I completely blew the opportunity to have him sign my 1st Generation iPod (yeah, the 5-gigger). The moral of the story (as always): Advanced age is no cure for nerdiness.

Matt World! Matt World! Party Time! Excellent!

2007-01-11T09:54:00.000-07:00

Start hating me now. Somehow, some way, I ended up with a Platinum Pass to Macworld. What does that mean? I sat in the eighth row (far right side, but still...the eighth row) for Steve Jobs' keynote address. I personally witnessed the unveiling of the iPhone. I'm a total geek.

And to complete the nerdiness... I hunted down the man below and convinced him (he was quite embarrassed by the whole deal) to pose for a lame fanboy photo. Who is he? Take a guess... I'll spill the answer tomorrow.

Maybe It Didn't Matter

2007-01-08T23:35:00.000-07:00

The year end lists have been back-burnered for now, but I'll give this quick observation until I can get my act together:

Walking big city streets without iPod earbuds stuffed in your lobes is the new walking big city streets with iPod earbuds stuffed in your lobes.

What Mattered in 2006

2007-01-04T13:02:00.000-07:00

It has taken far longer than reasonable, but I have prepared a handful of year-end lists. I figured it best to break them into chunks...hopefully I can deliver one a day for the next week.

These lists simply reflect the things that mattered to me in 2006. Some of the albums, songs, movies, books, etc. that you'll find here were released in years other than 2006. Cut me some slack. I'm slow on the uptake and sometimes it takes me an extra year (or two or three or seven) to catch on to something already deemed "amazing" by the general public.

So, with that uninspiring disclaimer in mind, let's get started.

Albums that Mattered (2006)

Everything All The Time - Band of Horses
Why it mattered:
The Funeral, The Great Salt Lake, Monsters. Most albums would kill to boast one of the three. Also, it always feels good to have an album on the shelf that gets better as the volume increases.

Silent Alarm - Bloc Party
Why it mattered:
I've already spilled the details. Read more here. I guess (sometimes) being on the tail end of the buzz curve feels kind of good. It's the über-hipster stance of "I liked them after it was cool to like them." Yes, I am a complete nerd.

Songs For Chistmas, Vol. I-V - Sufjan Stevens
Why it mattered:
This may be the one Christmas collection that's actually listenable outside of the accepted Nov. 15 - Jan. 1 timeframe. Sister Winter still knocks my socks off.

Alligator - The National
Why it mattered:
Because it may have been my 2005 Album of the Year and just never slowed down. Quietly proving to be one of those albums that could be listened to 500+ times without losing any lustre.

St. Elsewhere - Gnarls Barkley
Why it mattered:
I don't listen to hip-hop. I don't listen to soul. I don't listen to R&B. And, still, this brainy mash-up of all three is probably the most startling, intriguing and exploding-in-your-eardrums LP I've heard in years. And with a lead-off track title like Go-Go Gadget Gospel, you simply can't avoid hopping in with both feet.

Sam's Town - The Killers
Why it mattered:
Even though it got slaughtered by most critics, I choose to believe the best about this album. I choose to believe that the bombastic, exaggerated, melodramatic choices made by Brandon Flowers and the boys were intentionally postmodern. I choose to believe that (as stated by Kyality), Sam's Town might just be rock 'n' roll's 2006 answer to Andy Warhol and Baz Luhrmann. Plus, my folks live 7 miles up the road (Boulder Highway, to be exact) from the Sam's Town casino. Want to understand this album? Go drive Boulder Highway. Seriously.

Bring Me The Workhorse - My Brightest Diamond
Why it mattered:
Vocals that make you wish your dreams were soundtracked by Shara Worden. That, and the realization that Sufjan's #1 Illinoisemaker has a whole lot more up her sleeve than the shimmering harmonies I still love.

Gimme Fiction - Spoon
Why it mattered:
Another 2005 album that kept on giving in 2006. I once read an interview in which Britt Daniel referred to Spoon as a "tambourine band." I wanted to disagree. I wanted to say that they're so much more than that. But then, just one minute and 17 seconds into I Turn My Camera On, the tambourine kicks in. And I'm dancing in the kitchen while Luke spins in bizarre non-circles and Owen giggles until half-chewed fruit puffs fall from his mouth. Then, I know Britt was right. So wonderfully, wonderfully right.

Next up... Books that Mattered (2006). You just can't wait. You might not even sleep. Just pick up some Tylenol PM and count the sheep. Anticipation's a killer.

Because Every Day Should Start (and End) with the Lovely Leslie Feist

2007-01-02T21:48:00.000-07:00

High: 28, Low: 14

2006-12-18T11:17:00.000-07:00

I have shoveled snow from my driveway 3 times in 24 hours and this morning's shoveling was, perhaps, the best of all. Snow so light it nearly refused to be shoveled. The kind of powder Utah brags about so ridiculously that I want to punch Utah in the face.

(Controlling anger. Gathering composure.)

Back on track... No song/video captures snowfall quite like this one. Makes me want to fill my backyard with water, pray that it freezes over and then go find an old pair of skates at the local D.I.*

Song of the Season

2006-12-14T08:48:00.000-07:00

It's no contest, really. Sufjan Steven's Songs for Christmas — a five-disc masterpiece of traditional, original and otherwise fantastic holiday tracks runs away with the Christmas Album of the Year title. Amy enjoys the Sarah McLachlan offering and D says that the Aimee Mann disc isn't half bad. But just listen to this stunner from Vol. V: Peace and you'll have no doubt that Sister Winter is THE song of the season. Keep hitting "repeat," it's OK...I'll be doing it right along with you. (You can listen right here by "mousing" over the image below and using the controls that pop up near the bottom.)

Download the track at the Asthmatic Kitty site (scroll down and find it on the bottom left under "stuff").

Two More Fantasy Football Victories Away

2006-12-13T18:06:00.000-07:00

I Already Know How It Ends

2006-12-07T14:43:00.000-07:00

Last night's My Brightest Diamond/DeVotchKa show practically demanded that I brave the sub-freezing temps and make the drive up Parley's Canyon to Suede in Park City. Well, it didn't hurt that Dainon offered his "plus one" ticket guaranteed by some (unforeseeably untrustworthy) publicist. Turns out we didn't make the list and had to pay $10/each to enter — a discounted admission, but still...

You can read all about Shara Worden and My Brightest Diamond all over bloglandia on sites far more interesting and insightful than this one, so I'll only add a few thoughts:

1) Her voice is virtually unmatched in pop/rock music. She handles vocal acrobatics as if they were warm-up drills. Runs and reaches that would have lesser singers doubled over barely even seem to raise her eyebrows. As D remarked after her stunning cover of Tainted Love: I think I could listen to her sing anything, anything at all, and I would love it.

2) While she has been compared to every dramatic female vocalist under the sun (PJ Harvey, Bjork, Beth Gibbons, Kate Bush, etc.), there is one (dead-on) comparison I've yet to hear: Andrea Echeverri from the outstanding Colombian two-piece, Aterciopelados.

3) I have developed a minimally-physical, full-blown artistic crush on Shara Worden. I'll save the full breakdown of crush varieties for another day, but every time I have seen Shara (twice backing Sufjan Stevens and now once on her own) she has increasingly caught my eye. All I can say is that I'm attracted to her art. I know there's something weird (and awfully emo-pathetic) about that statement and each time I read it, it only gets worse. I'm sorry.

The crowd at Suede was certainly diverse (D says it's always that way) but at least they were united in ignorant impoliteness. I will never understand how a crowd can consistently yap through a set as haunting and beautiful as that played by Worden and her bandmates. I suppose that's their choice, right? But if you paid money to see a painter paint, would you walk up and scribble on the corners of her canvas? I see no difference in talking throughout a musical performance. I've exposed my "shut-up-at-concerts" bias. I understand if you will now discredit me. I am prepared for the fall in the polls.

The voice:
Golden Star - My Brightest Diamond - m4a

After My Brightest Diamond left the stage, D and I listened to a few tipsy hippies try to describe the music of DeVotchKa – always an entertaining endeavor. "Ummm... it's like... Eastern European polka... with Tex-Mex horns... and a tuba or something... and sometimes the guy sings in Spanish." And there's nothing better than hearing a pseudo-hipster impress his mindless companions with the knowledge that DeVotchKa (hailing from the greater Denver area, mostly) are from the former Yugoslavia. Good stuff. And, while D tried to convince me that the man playing violin was actually Yo-Yo Ma, I settled in for a healthy dose of European Tex-Mex Polka.

DeVotchKa does not disappoint. If you've listened to even a handful of tracks, you know to expect grieving vocals and throbbing accordions, maracas and flamenco guitars. Theirs is a blend of sounds quite unlike anything I've heard. They walk the same path as Calexico... but in a completely alternate landscape. The songs are sad, beyond sad, and you can't help but wonder where all this pain is coming from. I hesitate to say it, but the vocals even verge on Mexican ranchera music, the strained music full of howls and yips heard blaring from corner cantinas.

(picture stolen from Pitchfork)

What elevates DeVotchKa, however, are the moments of lightness, the spots of sunlight that filter through the pained melodies. And when DeVotchKa played their most recognizable song to date, How It Ends (featured in the movie trailer for Everything Is Illuminated), it was the hint of optimism – however small and however disguised – that lifted the audience from their drinks and even managed to silence the talkers. How It Ends is a rare song. It seems that even devoted, long-time fans of DeVotchKa (who would normally disregard this song because of its mainstream appeal and popularity) seem to know that it is a great song, the kind of song that truly transcends (what a word...) genres and classifications.

I guess what I'm trying to say is this: Since last night's show, my iTunes shows that I've listened to How It Ends five times and I could go for another five right now.

Because of the late start – DeVotchKa didn't take the stage until 11:15 or so – we left just before the end of the set. But it was a satisfied early exit. Very satisfied.

Proof:
How It Ends - DeVotchKa - mp3

I'm a Driver. I'm a Winner. Things Are Gonna Change, I Can Feel It.

2006-12-06T11:23:00.000-07:00

Much thanks to Heather at I AM FUEL, YOU ARE FRIENDS and Kevin at SO MUCH SILENCE. Both have provided me with some serious contest winnings.

SO MUCH SILENCE delivered an autographed copy of Calexico's latest, Garden Ruin. My winning accomplishment? Typing a city and date in the subject line of an email.

The FUEL/FRIENDS contest was a touch more demanding. Readers were challenged to come up with a title for their own autobiographies. CLICK HERE and scroll down a post or two to read my winning submission. The loot - a Stranger than Fiction soundtrack and matching mug.

Fantastic.

For Your FYI

2006-11-28T22:25:00.000-07:00

Since it appears best to wipe the slate clean with my EZ Archive account, all the links to downloads (songs and videos) will be going dead. If there was anything you wanted to grab, try and do so by Thursday. After that, the odds of my posting something new will increase dramatically. How's that for an uncommitted, hedged-bet promise?

Have You Given Up On Me?

2006-11-28T16:19:00.000-07:00

Because I might be trying to decide if I have...

Don't Blame Me.

2006-11-10T10:53:00.000-07:00

I've been mocked endlessly for my Sufjan Stevens man-crush. But watch this. He's a genius. I remarked to Kate the other day that if I had any actual talent, this is what I'd be doing... wearing bird outfits, crafting an album for each of the 50 states, dressing up as an Illinoisemaker, playing the banjo, tossing inflatable Santas and Supermen to the masses at the Gorge.

Watch more clips from the Austin City Limits performance here.

You Have to Watch This.

2006-11-10T09:41:00.000-07:00

Seriously. CLICK HERE.

The fact that Babcock found and posted this proves his awesomeness. You hear that? His awesomeness is beyond debate.

Someday I'll Grow a Drastic A-Line of My Own

2006-11-07T19:50:00.000-07:00

Not long ago, d wrote about Seattle. Though he's never lived there, he called it home. And those of you subjected to my presence know that I've got the same sort of feeling about Portland. Lived there for three blessed years. Hope to be headed permanently back at some point. For now, a weekend jaunt on the first weekend in December will have to do the trick.

I've done something crazy. For an unknown reason, I've ended up with tix to see Bloc Party open for Panic! At The Disco! (what gives with the exclamation points? just one of the many reasons I hate them...). Yeah, that's right, I'm traveling all the way to Portland to see Bloc Party play a 45-minute set and then likely walk out the door before the headliner takes the stage. I understand the idiocy. But something about witnessing the powerfully drastic a-line haircuts of the Bloc Party-ers in a northwestern setting was more than I could pass up.

I'm sure it's just that more than two years have passed since I've walked downtown Portland. Two years since my last Moonstruck chocolate milkshake. Two years since my last visit to Powell's. Two years since my last rock-shrimp-and-brie-stuffed salmon dinner at Jake's (I'd better start saving up for that one now...). Two years is too long.

Anyway to celebrate the return to the northwest, watch this: Bloc Party. Piles of leaves. Crazy camera angles. Lots of wonderfully drastic a-lines.

(Sorry for the YouTube only. I'm just finally getting settled with the new version of EZ Archive. Real downloads as soon as I get it all figured out.)

I said it. I meant it.

2006-11-01T22:39:00.000-07:00

While discussing the fact that a young fringe-hipster (roommate of my sister) had linked to this here blog, I commented, "It's no big deal. Hipsters don't read old people blogs." I really don't think they do. Hipsters only read hipster blogs. Otherwise, they wouldn't be hipsters.

(Basically I had to post something to break the eerie Post-Halloween silence. Something real is coming soon. Surely.)

A Year Old, But No Less Amazing

2006-10-25T18:04:00.000-06:00

Last year around this time, VICE records released what may be the craziest, creepiest, coolest song and video that Halloween has ever witnessed. This sprawling, collaborative, nearly-six-minute beauty features a laundry list of indie superstars including Win and Regine (Arcade Fire), David Cross (aka Tobias Funke), Beck, Feist, Jimmy Tamborello (DNTEL, Postal Service) and members of Rilo Kiley and Wolf Parade.

The whole group mascarades as the North American Hallowe'en Prevention Initiative (NAHPI) and proceeds from the sale of the single (also available with three remixes as an EP via iTunes) benefit UNICEF. Anyway, it's about time to rustle up a costume and get all kinds of spooky, so enjoy. Watch the (mediocre) YouTube version here or download the (much nicer) iPod-formatted version below.

Do They Know It's Halloween - NAHPI - m4v

Short Question. Long Answer.

2006-10-23T22:03:00.000-06:00

Nine days ago, after seeing the Killers at the Great Saltair (otherwise known as the dump of a venue on the shores of the stinking Great Salt Lake), Kyle asked me a question. I told him I'd have to think about it. I'm sure he thought I was either avoiding an argument or avoiding the question completely. He should know me better than that. I have considered the question. And I am prepared to answer. I'll do my best to keep the response concise... but there are no guarantees. My head's a bit scrambled tonight and the monster pork chop (plus calamari plus banana cream pie in a coconut pastry shell) I consumed at dinner with some fine Londoners isn't doing anything to straighten me out. Anyway, on to the question:

"Would you call the Killers a postmodern band?"

At first I wasn't sure. I was skeptical. Postmodern seems so important. So intellectual. So intentional. It sounds like Warhol and the Velvet Underground. And I'm pretty certain that the Killers are nowhere near that level. But I let the thought sink in. I hit the wikipedia entry on postmodernism for a refresher (it's been more than a couple years since my pre-requisite Literary Theory course). And then I heard the words of one fine Modern American Lit professor ringing in my ears—and, yes, the words were ringing just a bit louder (and probably at a much different frequency) than the common, everyday, nonsensical ringing in my ears. You know, the same ringing that makes it impossible for me to hear and understand conversations in a crowded restaurant. Where was I? Modern American Lit. Ed Cutler. His remark: "Las Vegas is the ultimate postmodern city."

"The answer. To the question. In my mind."

In case you've been living under a rock (or by the strange chance that you have a life that extends beyond the shallow reaches of pop music), the Killers hail from Las Vegas, NV. And the new album is all the proof you need of their Las Vegas-ness. Each song travels from decade to decade, swirling between 80s electronica and 70s bombast, 90s irony and 00s dance-rock. So many things have been written about Sam's Town. It's been ripped as a Springsteen rip-off. It's been derided as a lackluster follow-up. But the only thought I have as I spin through the album again and again is this... this is a Las Vegas album. Not a hanging-out-in-Las-Vegas album, not a bachelor-party-in-Vegas album, and certainly not a honeymoon-in-Vegas album. This is a living-in-Vegas-for-an-extended-period-of-time album. A surrounded-by-facades-of-greatness album. I want to believe that Sam's Town is intentionally shallow. That its lack of concrete lyricism and fascinating musicianship is consistent with the postmodern (there it is!) wonderland of false New York skylines and Eiffel Towers.

I'm probably too lazy to dig into a real piece of musical criticism and comparative theory here. In fact, I know I am. But, yes, Kyle. The Killers are a postmodern band. For good and for bad. But they put on a devil of a show nine days ago. And Brandon Flowers' mustache should serve as a year-round reminder of the beauty of Cinco de Mustache (it's only six months away...).

A three-minute, thirty-three-second sample of postmodernism:

For Reasons Unknown - The Killers - Sam's Town - m4a

My mustache is more postmodern than your mustache...

Seriously.

2006-10-21T22:29:00.000-06:00

Hopefully I'll be able to follow through... but the new header should be the first of a few changes around these parts. Stay tuned for more. Or leave a suggestion. Or tell me to actually post something worth reading (tomorrow, hopefully...).

Missing: Milk Carton

2006-10-17T22:45:00.000-06:00

The free world is experiencing EZ Archive technical difficulties as the file hosting service transitions to version 3.0 — but, after some finger crossing, I uploaded my first video and it's here for your downloading enjoyment.

To celebrate my first official video post, I picked one of the all-time greats. Seriously. You can watch the (suprising high-quality) YouTube version here. Or click the link below to download the video in all of its iPod-format glory.

Coffee & TV - Blur - mp4

To satisfy all your music video cravings, be sure to visit the fantastic SHOTS RING OUT.

Re-Thinking the Sing-Along

2006-10-16T13:15:00.000-06:00

A long, long time ago, I attended a Shins concert and wrote a review of sorts that was wandering and harsh (and probably a few hundred words too long). The main point of contention: the sing-along trend that seems to have taken flight somewhere in the early 00s. I can get behind singing along to a favorite song or something... but singing along to every single song (and at top volume, no less) just seems to get under my skin.

After seeing the Envy Corps open for the Killers on Saturday night (at the Great Saltair just outside SLC), I think I've found my happy medium. I think I've found the solution to the sing/don't sing dilemma. I'm about to make a sweeping judgment. Brace yourselves (all three of you).

If the band invites you to sing along... sing like you've never sung before. Otherwise, keep it to a minimum.

The Envy Corps are nothing if not ambitious. During their final song, they split the capacity crowd down the middle and encouraged a somewhat complicated two-part "da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da" / "oooow-oow-ooow-oow-ooww-oooow-ooow-oow-ooow" (I'm even butchering it now as I try and figure out how to type it) harmony. I was stunned. What high expectations. I mean, really? All these kids are supposed to stop text-messaging long enough to sing along to an opening act? I was impressed. So much so that I bought the Envy Corps' limited edition EP, "I Will Write You Love Letters If You Tell Me To" (currently unavailable for purchase — unless you can scoop up a copy at a show).The EP is solid. Great at times. Pretty decent at others. The Envy Corps deliver catchy, dance-able rock. The band should have hipsters shaking their limbs at venues across the country over the next couple weeks. And while the influences (Radiohead among other Brit rockers) are still a bit close to the surface, there's nothing wrong with the groove the boys from Des Moines, Iowa are laying down.

Here's the standout sing-along track (get that!):

Story Problem - The Envy Corps - m4a

Whitney. Meet Barry.

2006-10-11T22:13:00.000-06:00

Aside from being the two creepiest looking people I could find on Google Images tonight, Whitney Houston and Barry Manilow had a strange collision in my psyche this afternoon.

I had to buy a Barry Manilow song on iTunes. Had to. No free will involved. It was required. Without spilling too many incriminating details I'll just say that I had to rough out a slideshow. And the song was already chosen. Without my input. I swear it. Barry Manilow. Seriously. Barry. Manilow.

This is where Whitney comes into the picture. She sang it so long ago I had nearly forgotten the line: "They can't take away my dignity." Well, she was wrong. Dead wrong. They can take it away. They can reimburse me the 99¢ subtracted from my iTunes account. But they can never give back my dignity. They just can't.

One of the Best Ideas I've Ever Had

2006-10-09T17:26:00.000-06:00

I'm proud to say that getting Creent to swim through a construction puddle was my idea. Dainon says it's the best idea I've probably ever had. Considering my recent state of idea-less-ness, I might have to agree.
At any rate, he had to be bribed (final tally included $50, a lunch IOU, a big bag of Peanut M&Ms and the promise of a personal check to be delivered "later"), but Creent came through in the clutch. See for yourself.

Farr made the edits and chose the music. Brilliant work, Fahh.

I Can Do This

2006-10-09T16:13:00.000-06:00

I can fight through the blog-apathy.
I can stop thinking.
I can focus for longer than three minutes.
I can pull the rabbit out of the hat.
I can be "cool" with short hair even if Amy says long hair is cooler.
I can learn the difference between Hodgkins lymphoma and anaplastic large cell lymphoma.
I can remember that my mom is tougher than either.
I can promise to not post about this again.
I can break that promise.
I can write.
I can get back to caring about things that don't matter.
I can handle this.
I can handle this.
I can not handle this.
I can handle this.

When They Finally Start Putting Microchips In Our Brains

2006-09-26T08:34:00.000-06:00

I want this permanently installed on mine:

SMALL UPDATE: I forgot to point out the strange sports coincidence that this 2002 Super Bowl performance took place at the Superdome in New Orleans, the very site of last night's U2 mini-gig.