New goal time.
Recreate Ferris Bueller's Day Off.
My brother and I are formulating plans to embark on our own day off. We are going to try and recreate Ferris Bueller's day off from start to finish. If it works we will have made a great video. Even if it doesn't I still think it will be a good time.
So here is the challenge (as proposed by Bill Simmons). Starting around 9:00 AM we have till 6:00 PM to live the life.
The first step is renting a red convertible. I am not sure how realistic it is to get the Ferrari here a concession will have to be made. We are going to start at Gelnbrook High School and then head downtown. First we are going to hit the Sears Tower, then duck into the stock exchange. So far so good. The french restaurant has been replaced by another restaurant we will eat there under a reservation for Mr. Abe Froeman.
After lunch, we hit a Cubby day game. The odds of a foul ball are slim but we have to try right? From there comes our greatest challenge. We have to find a parade. Small scale we can roll down the street singing "twist and shout". But if we can muster enough people, how about a parade down Southport? Improvisors unite.
From there a dip in the pool and a run home and we have made it.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Polemics and Pastiche
After getting out of the new Tarintino movie the other day I realized that I am tired. I'm tired of the mix tape generation. I think in a way Tarintino was one of the fore-bearers of where we find ourselves. When Pulp Fiction dropped it was unbelievable. It was like a greatest hits of cinema. More than enough has been written on the film and I doubt I can add anything new, moving on.
With the new flick it is all style and no substance. It's just scenes, ideas, and references to other things that don't add up to much. In a way I think it's an example of how adrift things are right now. Songs, films, and books are all built around previous ideas. Everything is ______ meets ______ with __________. Most of the time the third blank is zombies or pirates, I don't know why this is. What happened to us? Every artistic movement is built upon the backs of the one before it but lately everything feels like a cover song.
In improv this has really begun to do us all in. Far too often I see people use a pop culture reference without even commenting on it. Someone will name check something from the eighties and leave it at that. More often than not they get a laugh of recognition and nothing else. Family Guy is a good example of this kind of thing. They will recreate a piece of pop culture and that's it. They never take a stand on something or try to deconstruct it, they just let it lay there. For every Girl Talk where juxtaposition is used as an tool there is some shitty comic just yelling the theme from Golden Girls.
I have been challenging myself to remove all pop culture references from my performances. I want to create not imitate. I wish more people would try this as well. Sorry this is such a shit post.
With the new flick it is all style and no substance. It's just scenes, ideas, and references to other things that don't add up to much. In a way I think it's an example of how adrift things are right now. Songs, films, and books are all built around previous ideas. Everything is ______ meets ______ with __________. Most of the time the third blank is zombies or pirates, I don't know why this is. What happened to us? Every artistic movement is built upon the backs of the one before it but lately everything feels like a cover song.
In improv this has really begun to do us all in. Far too often I see people use a pop culture reference without even commenting on it. Someone will name check something from the eighties and leave it at that. More often than not they get a laugh of recognition and nothing else. Family Guy is a good example of this kind of thing. They will recreate a piece of pop culture and that's it. They never take a stand on something or try to deconstruct it, they just let it lay there. For every Girl Talk where juxtaposition is used as an tool there is some shitty comic just yelling the theme from Golden Girls.
I have been challenging myself to remove all pop culture references from my performances. I want to create not imitate. I wish more people would try this as well. Sorry this is such a shit post.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Improvising A Full Court Press
When pursuing leisure activities one has to consider several things. Do I have the time? Do I enjoy doing them? What am I getting out of it? I have been running these and many questions like them through my head the last few weeks. I partake in a certain activity that is a bit like rec league basketball only with more smokers. I am nearing the end of our season as it were and I am thinking that it may be time to hang up my sneakers and find a new game to play. I still love the watching the game but I have come to the realization that I may not be good enough to play at the level I want. How did this hoop dream start?
I started playing in the rec league because I was new in town and had always loved basketball. Sure, I had played a few pick up games from time to time growing up but never really in anything organized. At first I loved it. I was learning how to shoot and pass from some of the best people in town. I found out that over the course of the next year my progress would be monitored and if I was lucky at the end of it I might be asked to join one of the local minor league teams. At the start of the season this seemed so far away that it was something I couldn't comprehend. I would hear other people in the league talk about playing on T.V. someday. I would always laugh it off and tell them to worry about just going to class that week.
A few weeks in some of the other new kids asked me to join their team and I couldn't believe my luck. We had a great coach and had a great time together trying to figure out how to play. I was the worst player on the team but they kept me around anyways. In practice and games I would always find new ways to screw up as I stumbled up and down the court. I went to class and rehearsal every week. I tried to see as many games as I could and really dove into this whole world with as much time and passion as I could muster. During the winter I would bundle up and spend two hours a night watching all the better players scrimmage always with the hope that someday I would get to play in their game. I devoured every book and interview I could about the game hoping that each one would provide new insight into the process.
As the season progressed I was still having fun with my team but the mandated classes became less interesting. Most of the classes involved listening to someone else try to explain how to play hoop and watching other people play while you sat out and waited your turn. Listening to someone explain how they shoot a three is like someone explaining how they fuck. Sure it's useful but eventually you just need to go out and do it. All I wanted to do was go out and play. Three-fourths of the way through the season I new most of the flaws in my game. All I could do was think about what I was doing wrong and I found myself freezing up during games. I had a hit a wall and wasn't getting any better.
All the while my team and I were picking up games at smaller parks and had a great time playing together. Then our forward moved. Shortly after one of our guards started playing baseball and couldn't spend as much time with us. Then our center had to move away as well. Next thing I knew we lost another guard. Everyone had a great reason to leave, after all it was just a rec team. One night I looked around and I was standing in the gym shooting free throws with strangers. I may have been helping my game but the reason I fell in love with the game in the first place was to play with my friends.
The more I learned about the game the less I seemed to like it. People started talking about being scouted and making teams. For some it was the only conversation they could have. My enthusiasm for the process was dwindling as the whole thing began to feel like an obligation. More and more of my time and money was being siphoned off as I felt like I was getting less and less enjoyment from playing. I began to blame the other players for shortfalls in my own game. I started skipping class and practice because I felt like it was a waste of time.
I find myself with two months left in the season. Most everyone else seems to be worried about what their uniform looks like or which scout is watching them. I look around and have never felt more disconnected from the game. With eight more games left all I want is to be done with things and move on to something else. I still love it but I don't know if it's the game for me.
Over the course of the season I have learned how to play the game competently at the most basic level that one can. I can run up and down the floor without tripping (most of the time). From time to time I close my eyes, hope for the best, and am able to score a basket. But looking back at the season I wonder if maybe, just maybe, I should have picked a different game.
I started playing in the rec league because I was new in town and had always loved basketball. Sure, I had played a few pick up games from time to time growing up but never really in anything organized. At first I loved it. I was learning how to shoot and pass from some of the best people in town. I found out that over the course of the next year my progress would be monitored and if I was lucky at the end of it I might be asked to join one of the local minor league teams. At the start of the season this seemed so far away that it was something I couldn't comprehend. I would hear other people in the league talk about playing on T.V. someday. I would always laugh it off and tell them to worry about just going to class that week.
A few weeks in some of the other new kids asked me to join their team and I couldn't believe my luck. We had a great coach and had a great time together trying to figure out how to play. I was the worst player on the team but they kept me around anyways. In practice and games I would always find new ways to screw up as I stumbled up and down the court. I went to class and rehearsal every week. I tried to see as many games as I could and really dove into this whole world with as much time and passion as I could muster. During the winter I would bundle up and spend two hours a night watching all the better players scrimmage always with the hope that someday I would get to play in their game. I devoured every book and interview I could about the game hoping that each one would provide new insight into the process.
As the season progressed I was still having fun with my team but the mandated classes became less interesting. Most of the classes involved listening to someone else try to explain how to play hoop and watching other people play while you sat out and waited your turn. Listening to someone explain how they shoot a three is like someone explaining how they fuck. Sure it's useful but eventually you just need to go out and do it. All I wanted to do was go out and play. Three-fourths of the way through the season I new most of the flaws in my game. All I could do was think about what I was doing wrong and I found myself freezing up during games. I had a hit a wall and wasn't getting any better.
All the while my team and I were picking up games at smaller parks and had a great time playing together. Then our forward moved. Shortly after one of our guards started playing baseball and couldn't spend as much time with us. Then our center had to move away as well. Next thing I knew we lost another guard. Everyone had a great reason to leave, after all it was just a rec team. One night I looked around and I was standing in the gym shooting free throws with strangers. I may have been helping my game but the reason I fell in love with the game in the first place was to play with my friends.
The more I learned about the game the less I seemed to like it. People started talking about being scouted and making teams. For some it was the only conversation they could have. My enthusiasm for the process was dwindling as the whole thing began to feel like an obligation. More and more of my time and money was being siphoned off as I felt like I was getting less and less enjoyment from playing. I began to blame the other players for shortfalls in my own game. I started skipping class and practice because I felt like it was a waste of time.
I find myself with two months left in the season. Most everyone else seems to be worried about what their uniform looks like or which scout is watching them. I look around and have never felt more disconnected from the game. With eight more games left all I want is to be done with things and move on to something else. I still love it but I don't know if it's the game for me.
Over the course of the season I have learned how to play the game competently at the most basic level that one can. I can run up and down the floor without tripping (most of the time). From time to time I close my eyes, hope for the best, and am able to score a basket. But looking back at the season I wonder if maybe, just maybe, I should have picked a different game.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Do We Choose The Songs?
We all like music. Some of us even love it. There is no better feeling than finding a new song, album, or band. There is that first minute where you are not sure if its any good. Then the chorus hits and suddenly this thing that two minutes ago didn't exist is something you can't live without. Right this now for me its Veckatimest by Grizzly Bear. What is it about a song or an album that can capture a moment so clearly for us? Over time a song can become intertwined with a person, place, or a time in your life. It becomes so imprinted that you can have trouble separating the two.
My life is split up not by years but bands. High school was the Beastie Boys. Every water polo trip, every late night at Dennys, was always scored with Beasties. We use to rhyme along to Ill Communication while we would do drills in the pool. Other things just remind me of moments. When I hear The Bouncing Souls I think of the day my Grandpa died. The same day he died was my first time at the front of a punk show for The Bouncing Souls. I am sure that I would have always loved them but because of timing they became something more.
College is all about Rancid and AFI. It seemed like every other weekend Rachael and I would run into each other at a AFI show. The Yeah Yeah Yeahs remind me of riding around Sacramento in a red Jetta during the summer. My Chemical Romance take me to the day I left California for good. I saw them on a side stage at Warped Tour and they just destroyed. A week later I left the country and didn't really come back for four years. Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge was my constant companion. Shake your head if you want but the album was always around for a few years.
Mos Def and Handsome Boy Modeling school always remind me of Brian Schlick and that fact that if it wasn't for him I may have never have liked hip hop. We listened to those two albums every day for six months. Alaska, Mexico, and Australia flash right back into my head whenever I hear either of those albums. My Bloody Valentine was playing when a girl told me she didn't want to marry me anymore. I love that album and it always takes me right back to that exact moment. But sometimes it reminds me of seeing them live with my friend Brandon. Eventually good stuff starts to replace the bad stuff.
Chicago is The Hold Steady. Is there a better band than The Hold Steady that sums up a town like Chicago? Songs about late nights, drinking, and kids on the edge of the middle. That is the Chicago way (always quote Mamet when in doubt). I had a girl tell me once that we were like a Hold Steady song. I always wondered if it was one of the happy ones or one of the sad ones? I guess it was probably both, which kind of makes sense. My best friends in Chicago are Radiohead. They know why.
My dad is a Jimmy Buffet song. Goofy and great. My mom has to be any Christmas song. I can't separate the two. The second the table is clear of Thanksgiving she starts with her Christmas mega-mix. We always pretended to hate it but walking into a house while those songs are playing just makes you feel right. My Brother is a little harder to pin down. The kid loves Rancid in a way that defies logic. So here's to you Ruby Soho. My sister has the best taste in music in the world. This is one of life's indisputable facts. After last weekend she gets The Decemberists. Which makes sense. My sister is wordy, cute, much smarter than I am. Much like a Decemberists album.
I don't know if I have a band or an album. Things seem to change so much. One day I feel a little Beastie, the next a little Smithy. But today right this second while the town is overcast and I am unsure about my next step, it's Grizzly Bear. Next week? Who knows?
My life is split up not by years but bands. High school was the Beastie Boys. Every water polo trip, every late night at Dennys, was always scored with Beasties. We use to rhyme along to Ill Communication while we would do drills in the pool. Other things just remind me of moments. When I hear The Bouncing Souls I think of the day my Grandpa died. The same day he died was my first time at the front of a punk show for The Bouncing Souls. I am sure that I would have always loved them but because of timing they became something more.
College is all about Rancid and AFI. It seemed like every other weekend Rachael and I would run into each other at a AFI show. The Yeah Yeah Yeahs remind me of riding around Sacramento in a red Jetta during the summer. My Chemical Romance take me to the day I left California for good. I saw them on a side stage at Warped Tour and they just destroyed. A week later I left the country and didn't really come back for four years. Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge was my constant companion. Shake your head if you want but the album was always around for a few years.
Mos Def and Handsome Boy Modeling school always remind me of Brian Schlick and that fact that if it wasn't for him I may have never have liked hip hop. We listened to those two albums every day for six months. Alaska, Mexico, and Australia flash right back into my head whenever I hear either of those albums. My Bloody Valentine was playing when a girl told me she didn't want to marry me anymore. I love that album and it always takes me right back to that exact moment. But sometimes it reminds me of seeing them live with my friend Brandon. Eventually good stuff starts to replace the bad stuff.
Chicago is The Hold Steady. Is there a better band than The Hold Steady that sums up a town like Chicago? Songs about late nights, drinking, and kids on the edge of the middle. That is the Chicago way (always quote Mamet when in doubt). I had a girl tell me once that we were like a Hold Steady song. I always wondered if it was one of the happy ones or one of the sad ones? I guess it was probably both, which kind of makes sense. My best friends in Chicago are Radiohead. They know why.
My dad is a Jimmy Buffet song. Goofy and great. My mom has to be any Christmas song. I can't separate the two. The second the table is clear of Thanksgiving she starts with her Christmas mega-mix. We always pretended to hate it but walking into a house while those songs are playing just makes you feel right. My Brother is a little harder to pin down. The kid loves Rancid in a way that defies logic. So here's to you Ruby Soho. My sister has the best taste in music in the world. This is one of life's indisputable facts. After last weekend she gets The Decemberists. Which makes sense. My sister is wordy, cute, much smarter than I am. Much like a Decemberists album.
I don't know if I have a band or an album. Things seem to change so much. One day I feel a little Beastie, the next a little Smithy. But today right this second while the town is overcast and I am unsure about my next step, it's Grizzly Bear. Next week? Who knows?
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Disappointment
Disappointment. It happens. More than often than not its kind of how things work out. Friends, Jobs, Parents. You disappoint them and they disappoint you. What a fucking circle. Lately I have tried to be on my best behavior and those of you that know me (actually know me) have an idea of how hard that is. It doesn't matter. I could be a dick, I could be great, in the end a pattern emerges. I can only think of one person that I have disappointed when it comes to certain things. As always I apologize. Reed, I am as always sorry.
I am always slightly shocked by people. Look into the greatest cynic and you will find a bleeding heart. If you care at all these days you will spend most of your days disappointed. Also since I am over using it, I think that disappointed should have two s's and not two p's. Thanks english language for making no fucking sense. Our own common tongue even disappoints me. I should learn Chinese.
Don't throw a pity party just yet but read on. I always find it interesting how the disapointer expects the disapointe to capitulate. Somehow it's our fault you fucked up? Really?
Things that haven't disappointed me:
Punk
My Friends
My sister and brother
My Aussies
My S.A. folks
Chucks
My Cannucks
Kevin Smith
Everything else is up for grabs.
I am always slightly shocked by people. Look into the greatest cynic and you will find a bleeding heart. If you care at all these days you will spend most of your days disappointed. Also since I am over using it, I think that disappointed should have two s's and not two p's. Thanks english language for making no fucking sense. Our own common tongue even disappoints me. I should learn Chinese.
Don't throw a pity party just yet but read on. I always find it interesting how the disapointer expects the disapointe to capitulate. Somehow it's our fault you fucked up? Really?
Things that haven't disappointed me:
Punk
My Friends
My sister and brother
My Aussies
My S.A. folks
Chucks
My Cannucks
Kevin Smith
Everything else is up for grabs.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Lolla Day Three
This is the end. Beautiful friend. This is end. My only friend, the end.
If there is a better metaphor for this entire weekend than the one going on at the North end of Grant Park, I don't know it. Band of Horses is rocking their asses off as Jane's Addiction begins Mountain Song. The noise between the two creates a weird punch of dissonance that isn't helping anyone. A helicopter is flying over us blasting the crowd with it's spot light. My first thought is that the cops are trying to keep an eye on the crowd. Good luck. Every person I see is passing something back and forth between complete strangers. Somewhere in between all this I am still drenched from dancing for about an hour and a half straight.
I had a late start on Sunday thanks to a class I had inadvisedly signed up for. I was bummed to miss Dan Deacon and what it seems was one of the best sets of the show. I hear rumors of marching bands and conga lines. By the time I get there Cold War Kids are half-way through their set. Having seen them a few time before it seemed to be business as usual. I think a band like that either needs to be seen in a club or not at all.
The D. O. double G came out
and gave the people what they wanted. Hit after hit, a touch of Tupac, and The Lady Rage herself. I had no idea she was still alive, weird. We watched about half the set before I drug my sister and her friend off to see MSTRKRFT.
Holy DJ shit. A weird mix of hippies, indie kids, and people dressed to go to a rave circa 1991 are bouncing around. One of the DJ's is formerly of Death From Above 1979 and it all makes sense. Big beats and huge breaks are coming at us from all angles. Mixing their own songs in between some of the really recognizable club tracks made for a great set. Fun fact about my sister, the girl can get down. In the middle of the set all I could think about was how much fun my Aussie peeps would have had there. Dan, Riaad, Trent, and Potato you guys missed it. The closing mix featured J.U.S.T.I.C.E, Daft Punk, and Bohemian goddamn Rhapsody. Hearing that crowd singing along to Freddy Mercury was something else.
Jane's Addiction was Jane's Addiction. The crowd loved it and after a long weekend of rain, heat, and humidity it was a nice way to be sent into the night. What else were we going to do? Listen to The Killers? Fuck NO.
Lolla, I love ya. But next year give us the headliners we deserve. Where was Jay-Z? Where was Blur? Where My Bloody Valentine? Where was any hip-hop at all? Having a few country acts and a guy more famous for being on T.V. than rapping is not diversity. Every year you guys miss the boat on several acts. Last year you put Girl Talk on too small of a stage and did the same this year with Santigold. Also please don't make good on the promise of having Aerosmith play next year, please god no.
If there is a better metaphor for this entire weekend than the one going on at the North end of Grant Park, I don't know it. Band of Horses is rocking their asses off as Jane's Addiction begins Mountain Song. The noise between the two creates a weird punch of dissonance that isn't helping anyone. A helicopter is flying over us blasting the crowd with it's spot light. My first thought is that the cops are trying to keep an eye on the crowd. Good luck. Every person I see is passing something back and forth between complete strangers. Somewhere in between all this I am still drenched from dancing for about an hour and a half straight.
I had a late start on Sunday thanks to a class I had inadvisedly signed up for. I was bummed to miss Dan Deacon and what it seems was one of the best sets of the show. I hear rumors of marching bands and conga lines. By the time I get there Cold War Kids are half-way through their set. Having seen them a few time before it seemed to be business as usual. I think a band like that either needs to be seen in a club or not at all.
The D. O. double G came out
and gave the people what they wanted. Hit after hit, a touch of Tupac, and The Lady Rage herself. I had no idea she was still alive, weird. We watched about half the set before I drug my sister and her friend off to see MSTRKRFT.Holy DJ shit. A weird mix of hippies, indie kids, and people dressed to go to a rave circa 1991 are bouncing around. One of the DJ's is formerly of Death From Above 1979 and it all makes sense. Big beats and huge breaks are coming at us from all angles. Mixing their own songs in between some of the really recognizable club tracks made for a great set. Fun fact about my sister, the girl can get down. In the middle of the set all I could think about was how much fun my Aussie peeps would have had there. Dan, Riaad, Trent, and Potato you guys missed it. The closing mix featured J.U.S.T.I.C.E, Daft Punk, and Bohemian goddamn Rhapsody. Hearing that crowd singing along to Freddy Mercury was something else.
Jane's Addiction was Jane's Addiction. The crowd loved it and after a long weekend of rain, heat, and humidity it was a nice way to be sent into the night. What else were we going to do? Listen to The Killers? Fuck NO.
Lolla, I love ya. But next year give us the headliners we deserve. Where was Jay-Z? Where was Blur? Where My Bloody Valentine? Where was any hip-hop at all? Having a few country acts and a guy more famous for being on T.V. than rapping is not diversity. Every year you guys miss the boat on several acts. Last year you put Girl Talk on too small of a stage and did the same this year with Santigold. Also please don't make good on the promise of having Aerosmith play next year, please god no.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Lolla Day Two
The night is coming to an end. I am sprawled out on a lawn in uptown. How did I get here? Why is it so damn hot? Was eating chicken nuggets at three in the morn a good idea? So many questions. Now that we have done the required time shift lets skip to the beginning.
Cereal, coffee, shower, water, lots and lots of water. We hit the train and get back to Grant Park just before two. My sister and her friend (who is pretty awesome in his own right) are off to see Ida Marie. I meet up with the POI and drag her along to Atmosphere. Slug is killing it for a crowd much larger than any I remember from last year. I wish he had played a some more uptown stuff or had Murs join him onstage but it was still a good set.
Arctic Monkeys were fun but ultimately forgettable. I could have done with more songs off the first album. High points were Fluorescent Adolescent and I Bet You Look Good On The Dance Floor. The big disappointment of the day was the fact that there were too many people who wanted to see Santigold. Coming out to the first portion of Major Lazer's Hold The Line the crowd was primed and ready to go, All 80,000 of them. It was too hot and too crowded to stay. After food, beer, and water we set out to get to the front for Animal Collective's set. Things after this got real, really real.
Let me put things into context. It was hot. Chicago on Saturday was hot and humid as I recall Certain substances were being passed around in the crowd like it was communion. People had been sitting waiting for an hour for this set. I had spent the last six months listening to Animal Collective every day on the train and had bought my ticket just for this set. Some people claim that Animal Collective were disappointing, these people are full of shit. Completely full of shit.
That video right there is exactly what it felt like. Being a punk rock kid I have been in the front for some fairly intense shows. But this was something else. The sun was still up and I was still on the fence about Lolla this year. An hour later it was dark, I was drenched, and I had seen one of the best shows of my life. Maybe you had to be in the middle of it to appreciate it? Maybe you had to have been a part of the swirling school of fish we became for that hour on Saturday? Maybe you had to partake in some what was being passed around? I don't know.
We all know how a electronic set should go. The beats, peaks, valleys, and breaks are familiar to all of us. AC work from a similar starting point but create music based on deduction. They remove the parts that should be there. Is it pretentious? Sure, but when it works there is nothing more exciting. They teased the audience throughout the night taking us right to the top of the mountain. They had the us begging to just have one bass drop, just one huge rave up. By the time Brothersport hit the crowd was frothing at the mouth and exploded. Did we hear the "hits"? Nope. Did anyone care? Maybe. But for a few minutes as we all moved together in unison to Fireworks as the sun dropped behind us none of that mattered.
There were other bands that night. There was party full of amazing people. There was late night chicken nuggets. While I was riding the train home with Fireworks on repeat, none of that seemed important.
Cereal, coffee, shower, water, lots and lots of water. We hit the train and get back to Grant Park just before two. My sister and her friend (who is pretty awesome in his own right) are off to see Ida Marie. I meet up with the POI and drag her along to Atmosphere. Slug is killing it for a crowd much larger than any I remember from last year. I wish he had played a some more uptown stuff or had Murs join him onstage but it was still a good set.
Arctic Monkeys were fun but ultimately forgettable. I could have done with more songs off the first album. High points were Fluorescent Adolescent and I Bet You Look Good On The Dance Floor. The big disappointment of the day was the fact that there were too many people who wanted to see Santigold. Coming out to the first portion of Major Lazer's Hold The Line the crowd was primed and ready to go, All 80,000 of them. It was too hot and too crowded to stay. After food, beer, and water we set out to get to the front for Animal Collective's set. Things after this got real, really real.
Let me put things into context. It was hot. Chicago on Saturday was hot and humid as I recall Certain substances were being passed around in the crowd like it was communion. People had been sitting waiting for an hour for this set. I had spent the last six months listening to Animal Collective every day on the train and had bought my ticket just for this set. Some people claim that Animal Collective were disappointing, these people are full of shit. Completely full of shit.
That video right there is exactly what it felt like. Being a punk rock kid I have been in the front for some fairly intense shows. But this was something else. The sun was still up and I was still on the fence about Lolla this year. An hour later it was dark, I was drenched, and I had seen one of the best shows of my life. Maybe you had to be in the middle of it to appreciate it? Maybe you had to have been a part of the swirling school of fish we became for that hour on Saturday? Maybe you had to partake in some what was being passed around? I don't know.
We all know how a electronic set should go. The beats, peaks, valleys, and breaks are familiar to all of us. AC work from a similar starting point but create music based on deduction. They remove the parts that should be there. Is it pretentious? Sure, but when it works there is nothing more exciting. They teased the audience throughout the night taking us right to the top of the mountain. They had the us begging to just have one bass drop, just one huge rave up. By the time Brothersport hit the crowd was frothing at the mouth and exploded. Did we hear the "hits"? Nope. Did anyone care? Maybe. But for a few minutes as we all moved together in unison to Fireworks as the sun dropped behind us none of that mattered.
There were other bands that night. There was party full of amazing people. There was late night chicken nuggets. While I was riding the train home with Fireworks on repeat, none of that seemed important.
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Lolla Day One
It's sprinkling as we leave the house and by the time we get downtown there is a full on rain storm. Lolla day one is not off to the best start. I started the day off by drinking a pot of Oregon's finest coffee so I was a little jumpy before we even got to the show. After a detour to buy umbrellas and a twenty minute wait in line we are in the show. Let there be rock (because there is almost no hip hop at this entire show).
First thing we catch is Bon Iver who's last album is an intimate acoustic album recorded in the woods. So the best way to hear it is in a field during a rain storm, right? They tried and Flume sounded phenomenal but the whole set never really got going. You could see how bad the band wanted to rock the fuck out and they never really got there. Ben Folds was next and was exactly what you expect. Randy Newman without all the songs about short people and Los Angeles. This just in Folds sings about dwarfs. So Randy Newman without all the songs about L.A., great. Your college's acapella group is waiting breathlessly for his next album. We used this break to visit the loo.
Biggest moral dilemma of the day is to check out Fleet Foxes or try to get to the front for Decemberists? Off to the front we ran. We waited about an hour while a gaggle of Miley Cyrus types kept asking if I had a bowl. Nope, I am old as shit. If I smoke at a show I will either fall asleep or freak out and sit down somewhere till I stop hyperventilating. Another fun character near us was the 40 year-old mom lecturing everyone about smoking and stepping on her 10 year-old daughter. Lady, its a festival. If you don't want smoke, crowds, or swearing get out of Chicago. Those are three things this city does well.
Holy shit, The Decemberists blew us away. They were playing The Hazards of Love front to back and it couldn't have been more amazing. It was a note perfect performance and the weather played into the whole feel of the show. The only thing lacking was the crowd. We tried to clap along, sing along, and dance along. For whatever reason it never took. This was not Colin McCoy's fault. The star of the show was either Shara Warden who was melting faces with her vocals or Jenny Conlee who managed to play an organ solo while holding an accordion. How is that even possible?
We ran to catch the end of Peter Brjon and John. Forget the Target add. These guys sounded like Pavement and played part of a Joy Division song. If you do that I will fall in love ever time. From there it was Of Montreal. Lots of costumes and video. The songs are danceable but by this point everyone was wet, muddy, and not in the mood. Plus I think most people's drugs were starting to wear off. We watched Depeche Mode for about half of an hour before we left. Gahan's voice was shot and the band was just off. By all means play songs off your new album at a club show. But opening night of Lolla, bring the heat. Open with the Policy of Truth and then segue into Enjoy the Silence. Problem solved.
Big thanks go to the ginger guy with the big teeth that gave my sister a poncho and offered us sandwiches. Again let me doff my cap to The Decemberists, unbelievable.
First thing we catch is Bon Iver who's last album is an intimate acoustic album recorded in the woods. So the best way to hear it is in a field during a rain storm, right? They tried and Flume sounded phenomenal but the whole set never really got going. You could see how bad the band wanted to rock the fuck out and they never really got there. Ben Folds was next and was exactly what you expect. Randy Newman without all the songs about short people and Los Angeles. This just in Folds sings about dwarfs. So Randy Newman without all the songs about L.A., great. Your college's acapella group is waiting breathlessly for his next album. We used this break to visit the loo.
Biggest moral dilemma of the day is to check out Fleet Foxes or try to get to the front for Decemberists? Off to the front we ran. We waited about an hour while a gaggle of Miley Cyrus types kept asking if I had a bowl. Nope, I am old as shit. If I smoke at a show I will either fall asleep or freak out and sit down somewhere till I stop hyperventilating. Another fun character near us was the 40 year-old mom lecturing everyone about smoking and stepping on her 10 year-old daughter. Lady, its a festival. If you don't want smoke, crowds, or swearing get out of Chicago. Those are three things this city does well.
Holy shit, The Decemberists blew us away. They were playing The Hazards of Love front to back and it couldn't have been more amazing. It was a note perfect performance and the weather played into the whole feel of the show. The only thing lacking was the crowd. We tried to clap along, sing along, and dance along. For whatever reason it never took. This was not Colin McCoy's fault. The star of the show was either Shara Warden who was melting faces with her vocals or Jenny Conlee who managed to play an organ solo while holding an accordion. How is that even possible?
We ran to catch the end of Peter Brjon and John. Forget the Target add. These guys sounded like Pavement and played part of a Joy Division song. If you do that I will fall in love ever time. From there it was Of Montreal. Lots of costumes and video. The songs are danceable but by this point everyone was wet, muddy, and not in the mood. Plus I think most people's drugs were starting to wear off. We watched Depeche Mode for about half of an hour before we left. Gahan's voice was shot and the band was just off. By all means play songs off your new album at a club show. But opening night of Lolla, bring the heat. Open with the Policy of Truth and then segue into Enjoy the Silence. Problem solved.
Big thanks go to the ginger guy with the big teeth that gave my sister a poncho and offered us sandwiches. Again let me doff my cap to The Decemberists, unbelievable.
Friday, August 7, 2009
Beware The Third Beer Before Radiohead
Lollapalooza is upon us. All weekend I will be dying in the heat while I wait to hear the few bands I want to see. The biggest bonus that the show has is that it is twenty minutes away from my little hobbit hole. Door to door, train to train only twenty minutes. I bought my ticket this year with the hope that I would get a Blur reunion, maybe My Bloody Valentine, definitely The Beastie Boys. What am I getting? The Goddamn King of Fucking Leon. Really? For reals? You mean it?
Let me break down our headliners:
Depeche Mode: Old reliable. Would I skip them if some else good was playing? Yes. Do I own most of their albums? Sure. Do I sing along to Enjoy the Silence whilst on the train? Believe it. I also always carry a folding chair whilst wearing a crown and a cape.
P.S. Anton Corbin is a genius.
The Cock-sucking Kings of Shit On: If The Strokes fucked Lynyrd Skynrd after the plane crash this is what their babies would look like. The only positive is that my American Apparel dressed brethren will be drawn to this shit like flies making it easier to buy beer.
Tool: I loved Tool. Then I realized that I couldn't spend eight minutes waiting for a song to jump off. Also, Maynard can you at least look in the audience's general direction if we are going to pay you?
P.S. Danny Kerry is an amazing drummer.
The Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs: I would love to see them in a smaller venue. I don't know if they can rock a field full of tired, drunk, sunburned folk in a field. I am hoping for the best. As far as last minute replacements for The Beastie Boys, I guess? How about letting Animal Collective play for three hours while we roll in the field?
Jane's Addiction: Twenty years ago? Fuck and yes. Ten years ago? Sure and why not. Today? I may try to grab the train and make it to an improv show.
The Killers: Maybe their bus will crash into river? I can only hope.
The best band of the weekend is playing at The Metro. Josh Homme, Dave Grohl, and John Paul freaking Jones and I couldn't get a ticket. I am really looking forward to The Decemberists, Animal Collective, Fleet Foxes, Atmosphere, and Animal Collective. Did I mention how unbelievable Animal Collective are? Why is there almost no hip hop booked? Are they worried about scaring the white people?
Oh yeah, nothing can top last year. My first few months in Chicago and I got to go with my new best friends. Radiohead destroyed the stage and blew our minds. I may never be as content as I was when I watched Fake Plastic Trees crescendo while the sky over Grant Park externalized what we were all feeling.
P.S. Thanks Sparta, Jay, Cathy, Brando, Bij.
Let me break down our headliners:
Depeche Mode: Old reliable. Would I skip them if some else good was playing? Yes. Do I own most of their albums? Sure. Do I sing along to Enjoy the Silence whilst on the train? Believe it. I also always carry a folding chair whilst wearing a crown and a cape.
P.S. Anton Corbin is a genius.
The Cock-sucking Kings of Shit On: If The Strokes fucked Lynyrd Skynrd after the plane crash this is what their babies would look like. The only positive is that my American Apparel dressed brethren will be drawn to this shit like flies making it easier to buy beer.
Tool: I loved Tool. Then I realized that I couldn't spend eight minutes waiting for a song to jump off. Also, Maynard can you at least look in the audience's general direction if we are going to pay you?
P.S. Danny Kerry is an amazing drummer.
The Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs: I would love to see them in a smaller venue. I don't know if they can rock a field full of tired, drunk, sunburned folk in a field. I am hoping for the best. As far as last minute replacements for The Beastie Boys, I guess? How about letting Animal Collective play for three hours while we roll in the field?
Jane's Addiction: Twenty years ago? Fuck and yes. Ten years ago? Sure and why not. Today? I may try to grab the train and make it to an improv show.
The Killers: Maybe their bus will crash into river? I can only hope.
The best band of the weekend is playing at The Metro. Josh Homme, Dave Grohl, and John Paul freaking Jones and I couldn't get a ticket. I am really looking forward to The Decemberists, Animal Collective, Fleet Foxes, Atmosphere, and Animal Collective. Did I mention how unbelievable Animal Collective are? Why is there almost no hip hop booked? Are they worried about scaring the white people?
Oh yeah, nothing can top last year. My first few months in Chicago and I got to go with my new best friends. Radiohead destroyed the stage and blew our minds. I may never be as content as I was when I watched Fake Plastic Trees crescendo while the sky over Grant Park externalized what we were all feeling.
P.S. Thanks Sparta, Jay, Cathy, Brando, Bij.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Beware Large Busses
So the last few days have been some of the best I have had in longer than I care to remember. Friday night I met a whole ton of new people who couldn't have been nicer. I saw these nice people put up one hell of a fun show. You too can check them out every Friday for the rest of the month. Peep their site and their blog.
It was my brother's birthday on Friday as well and I think I showed him a good time. It's always hard to gauge these things as I am never sure if he is having fun or indulging me. We drank till the wee hours and I think the kid was a real hit with everyone we were hanging out with. How to follow up a night of drinking and fun? How about with fireworks?
Saturday was our block party and things as they say got real. We grilled, drank, blew shit up. It was Americana times ten. We even had a goddamn cake walk. After the our party we went to a house party that would have put Kid and Play to shame. Three kegs and one of the nicest and drunkest host I have ever seen. Feeling bad that they had run out of food their idea of a make good was shots of whiskey. How could you not love these people? Also they were representing Nor Cal. Extra points.
Sunday I met my new partner in the crimes of comedy. I couldn't believe how we hit it off. The man brought coffee and doughnuts. That's when I knew we were legit. After that it was off to put my time in the comedy trenches. Not sure what kind of show we are going to have after this class but even a disaster can be interesting. Look kids its the Hindenburg, ha-ha, right? Jesus.
It was my brother's birthday on Friday as well and I think I showed him a good time. It's always hard to gauge these things as I am never sure if he is having fun or indulging me. We drank till the wee hours and I think the kid was a real hit with everyone we were hanging out with. How to follow up a night of drinking and fun? How about with fireworks?
Saturday was our block party and things as they say got real. We grilled, drank, blew shit up. It was Americana times ten. We even had a goddamn cake walk. After the our party we went to a house party that would have put Kid and Play to shame. Three kegs and one of the nicest and drunkest host I have ever seen. Feeling bad that they had run out of food their idea of a make good was shots of whiskey. How could you not love these people? Also they were representing Nor Cal. Extra points.
Sunday I met my new partner in the crimes of comedy. I couldn't believe how we hit it off. The man brought coffee and doughnuts. That's when I knew we were legit. After that it was off to put my time in the comedy trenches. Not sure what kind of show we are going to have after this class but even a disaster can be interesting. Look kids its the Hindenburg, ha-ha, right? Jesus.
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