Best Albums of the Decade

When I make a “Best Of…” list, I generally name it “Lacey’s list of the best…” because that’s exactly what it is—mine. If you want to see a (slightly) more objective list, check out Pitchfork’s list or Paste’s list. Those are made by a collaboration of trained ears. The only collaboration for this list was between the left and right ear, so everything is inherently subjective to my personal tastes.

That said, there are some albums on here that I’ve placed for their contributions to music as a whole. I’m quite sick of the Strokes’ first album, but in 2001 it kicked off a decade of a microstyle of rock that so many other groups replicated throughout the next nine years. In other words, it probably deserves to be much higher up on this list, but personally, I don’t want it to be.

There are also some albums that if I went only according to my personal taste, they would have been much higher. Ben Kweller’s self-titled list barely squeaked its way onto the end of my list, but it would probably be in the top ten for the number of times I’ve listened to it.

There were some rules I placed here, namely that I ranked only the best album per band. I would venture to say that every single band in my top ten also deserve to have another album from the 2000s on this list (except for the Postal Service simply because they only have one album, but Ben Gibbard would appear in other places), but I kept it to their best.

While I’m giving disclaimers about the top ten, note also that this order could be shuffled in nearly every permutation and remain accurate. This is my list as for the moment, but I could change preferences at any time.

1. Wilco – Yankee Hotel Foxtrot: The recurrent themes, experimentalism, and brilliant lyrics stand for themselves. From the gradual, heavy opening of “I am Trying to Break Your Heart” to the seemingly light chords of “Heavy Metal Drummer,” Wilco cemented their place as one of the best rock bands of all time.

2. Sufjan Stevens – Come On Feel the Illinoise: The idea was crazy. An album for all 50 states, what? Illinois is his second (and supposedly final) installment in the series as he has since said that it was all a big joke, albeit one that he himself fell for. The perfectionistic orchestration of it all is incredible. Taking up an entire cd at nearly 80 minutes long, Sufjan tells the story of a state through dramatic folk tales, touching real-life stories, and eerie instrumentals. Despite its second place ranking, I sense that this may be the most legendary album to come out of the 2000s.

3. Bright Eyes – I’m Wide Awake It’s Morning: Released mid-decade on the same day as dramatically different yet also notable album Digital Ash in a Digital Urn (both Bright Eyes albums but not sold as a double album), there’s no need to prove Conor Oberst’s prolificacy. He’s the best singer-songwriter to come of age in the 2000s, and this is his peak. As a country-tinged folk album, this one will not age throughout the next couple decades.

4. The Postal Service – Give Up: It was a crazy idea back in 2003 for electronic musician Jimmy Tamborello (of Dntel) and indie songwriter Ben Gibbard (of Death Cab for Cutie) to make an album together. Death Cab hadn’t gained too much fame yet as landmark album Transatlanticism didn’t come out until the latter part of the year, so the situation was nothing like it is now. “Techno” music went out of style a couple decades earlier. Nonetheless, this formula worked. Brilliantly. Most of it was the seamless songwriting and the way Gibbard’s voice blended to the synth, but the style was also something that would shape the decade. Despite the fact that music snobs are still mad at newcomer Owl City for “stealing” the idea from the Postal Service—-they didn’t invent this kind of music. They only brought it back in a legendary way.

5. The Hold Steady – Boys and Girls In America: Hard rock doesn’t have much of a home these days between the hip hop on the radio, singer-songwriters on indie stations, and dance-synth of indie pop, but the Hold Steady are holding on to what’s left. That is, they’re paving the way of the movement. Picking up where Bruce Springsteen left off in 1984, the hyper-intelligent lyrics blended with virtuostic guitar riffs and legendary keys are something worth listening to. Alluding to Jack Kerouac in lyrics, the Hold Steady takes a cue from the beat poet that the partying lifestyle is a much deeper artistic topic than it looks.

6. The Shins – Chutes Too Narrow: This is the Shins’ best album, but just barely. You could argue for either of their other albums. Honestly, the Shins aren’t doing anything musically that other bands aren’t doing. They’re the epitome of early 2000s indie rock, but others were doing the same formula. They were just doing it really, really well. It’s cliché, but Natalie Portman was right in The Garden State that “This band will change your life.”

7. The Decemberists – The Crane Wife: On paper, you’d never think the Decemberists’ weird-to-the-extreme music would work, let alone that they’d get signed to a major label and sell a ton of records. Even if you disregard the literature of the storytelling-lyrics, this is classic music. This band ended the decade being the weirdest they could possibly come up with—-a rock opera about a centaur and forest queen—-and selling the most records they’ve ever sold. (That album, Hazards of Love, ranks behind this one, but not by much.)

8. The National – Boxer: They were unknown when they put out this album, but word spreads quickly when you release a perfect album. On first listen, it’s hard to hear anything besides the uniqueness of Matt Berninger’s deep baritone. Once you get beyond that, you notice layer upon layer of melodies on guitar, piano, and strings, overlaying intricate lyrics. This album takes about 20 listens to sink in, and once you get there, you won’t be able to turn it off.

9. Radiohead – Kid A: It’s probably sacrilegious that I’ve placed this album this low. Radiohead is the reason that nearly every other band on this list exists (except for U2, Bob Dylan and Bruce Springsteen, of course. In those cases, it’s the other way around). I’ve just never gotten that into Kid A personally, but that’s mostly because whenever I listen to Radiohead I just have to listen to OK Computer because it’s irresistibly good. In Rainbows, the band’s end of the decade album, ranks very closely behind Kid A in my opinion.

10. Arcade Fire – Funeral: Here’s another band that seems like a horrible idea but turns out to be legendary. Who would think that a seven-person band is a good idea? The songwriting is perfect, and the layers upon layers of instruments make this album a legend. Their second album, Neon Bible, is also incredible.

11. Spoon – Kill the Moonlight: While they struggled to make a name for themselves for half of the ‘90s, the 2000s were when Spoon came of age as a band (even though the members were already in their 30s and 40s). This album has Spoon at its peak rhythmically, but any of their albums from this point on also deserve to be on this list. Few bands better mark the transition from the birth of alternative rock (i.e. the Pixies, Pavement) to modern indie rock.

12. Vampire Weekend – Vampire Weekend: Probably the most unique album of the 2000s, even though it has become more popular than nearly every other on this list. From Columbia University to being covered by Peter Gabriel and sharing a stage with Crosby and Nash, this band has come a long way. Blending African rhythms in a Graceland-esque way, throwing in some classical conventions, a heavy dose of rock, and more multisyllabic words than a Shakespearean sonnet, they made something work that never should have. (The amazing thing is that they’ve started off the next decade proving that they can add to this formula. Stay tuned for a review of their sophomore album.)

13. Fleet Foxes – Fleet Foxes: This album is just as good as #12, and as unique to its time as that one. However, this one is reminiscent of 30 to 40 years ago, while Vampire Weekend is unlike any other band. The songs are great, the style is something that needs to be brought back, and rarely can music transport you to a place (frolicking in the forested mountains of the Pacific Northwest) as directly as this. Vampire Weekend has proven itself with a second album, but I’ve yet to hear another peep from Fleet Foxes. Let’s hope they can challenge themselves with a new album cutting deeper into the path they’ve made.

14. Elliott Smith – Figure 8: I can’t explain the excitement of being able to include one of Elliott’s albums on this list. I’ve been a (major) fan of his for some three or four years, but he’s been dead six. Although two posthumous albums have been released, I’ve never had the joy of listening to a freshly released album of his, let alone see him perform live. This album doesn’t rank quite as high as its predecessor XO, but it’s still one of my all-time favorite albums.

15. Ryan Adams – Heartbreaker: Ryan Adams’ first solo album paved the way for his many, many to come. Releasing 11 studio albums in the 2000s, not to mention some live recordings and dozens of free albums on his website, he was obviously busy. While he did release quite a few stellar albums, he’s also made some crap. Heartbreaker, however, is fantastic. A perfect alternative country showcase, Ryan Adams cemented his standing as the king of alt-country with this first solo album.

16. Jenny Lewis & the Watson Twins – Rabbit Fur Coat: Taking a break from her band Rilo Kiley, Jenny Lewis channeled her creativity into this solo effort that is better than all of the Rilo Kiley albums combined. That’s no criticism to Rilo Kiley—-they have made some great albums—-it’s just that this one is incredible. She shows that her talent is most applicable to timeless folk with a country tinge, despite her ability to rock. Unfortunately, her follow-up solo album released in 2008 is less than half the caliber of this, but in light of Rabbit Fur Coat, I’ll forgive her for it.

17. M. Ward – Post-War: Matt Ward is the best acoustic guitarist of his generation, so when he writes a great melody, it’s a classic. I’ve never thought his songwriting skills are quite on par with his guitar skills, but then again, there can only be so many Paul McCartneys and Bob Dylans in the world. This album is a great expose of his unbelievable instrumentation and production.

18. Bruce Springsteen – The Rising: The best of the post 9/11 reflection albums, but what else do you expect from a legend like the Boss?

19. Conor Oberst - Conor Oberst: Breaking away from the Bright Eyes moniker for the first time since puberty, Oberst also veered away from some of the elaborate orchestration of recent Bright Eyes music. Focusing on alt-country, he found his niche behind the acoustic guitar and pedal steel. This is essentially a solo album, but the effect of the Mystic Valley Band backup can’t be limited. Seeing him live playing with this band was a night-and-day difference from Bright Eyes, and the amount of fun he’s having is clear on the record too.

20. Death Cab for Cutie – Transatlanticism: This album defined indie pop for about five years, and should have launched Death Cab into the stratosphere. It ended up taking a couple more albums, but this is their best work to date.

21. The Strokes – Is This It?: I already mentioned that I acknowledge this is a classic record that set the stage for much of the music of the decade, and that’s all I can say about it.

22. Dark Was the Night: This is the only compilation I’m including on this list. It also serves as a who’s who of indie music of the decade. Most of the artists on this list contributed new (or new versions of) songs for this album that raised funds and awareness for AIDS. Nearly every track is incredible.

22. Coldplay – A Rush of Blood to the Head: Talk about setting the stage for the decade. Of course they stole all they knew from U2 and Radiohead, but you can’t deny that there are some classic songs on this album (and others).

23. Bob Dylan – Modern Times: Not too bad for a musician’s 32nd studio album. It’s great to see the legend return to the blues.

24. Andrew Bird – Armchair Apocrypha: If you can ever see his guy live, do it. His looping, insane violining, and general antics are incredible. This is the best of his amazing collection.

25. Iron & Wine – Our Endless Numbered Days: Another stage-setter for the decade, this is the epitome of modern folk music.

26. Feist – The Reminder: This album has such immense variety from track to track, and it undoubtedly set Leslie Feist as one of the best female singer-songwriters of the decade.

27. Sigur Rós – Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust: This Icelandic band is in a category of their own. Their newest album is my favorite, but everything they’ve released is unearthly.

28. Rilo Kiley – More Adventurous: Even though the first song on this album is mocking a musician’s pressure to write hits, Rilo Kiley wrote 11 of them here. I especially love that both Jenny Lewis and Blake Sennett (Rilo Kiley’s chief songwriters) wrote a tribute song to Elliott Smith in this album that came out just after his untimely death.

29. Ben Folds – Rockin’ the Suburbs: From parodies to ballads, “I'm pissed off but I'm too polite when people break in the McDonald’s line” to the most touching love song of the decade, this is quite possibly the most enjoyable album on this list.

30. U2 – All That You Can’t Leave Behind: Proof #1 of the new millennium that U2 is still one of the greatest bands on earth.

31. Modest Mouse – Good News for People Who Love Bad News: I’m personally a little over Modest Mouse, especially since they show their hometown Portland such little love, but this is a noteworthy release.

32. Monsters of Folk – Monsters of Folk: Not quite equal to the sum of all its parts (Conor Oberst, M. Ward, Jim James of My Morning Jacket, and Mike Mogis of nearly every Saddle Creek release) but still amazing.

33. The Faint – Fasciinatiion: On their fifth release, the Faint wrote, recorded, produced, art directed, and released this album totally on their own. Pretty impressive upon listen.

34. My Morning Jacket – Evil Urges: Some interesting takes on rock music on this album from one of the few Southern rock bands around these days.

35. Guster – Keep It Together: I had to put a Guster album on here. You won’t find them on any other Best-Of list on the great Internet, but I think they deserve to be. They’ve done some interesting things to the pop-rock formula.

36. Derek Webb – The Ringing Bell: This is another random pick, but it’s a pop gem. Clocking in at barely over half an hour, it’s a blur of pop mastery.

37. Ben Kweller – Ben Kweller: This is an underrated album by an underrated artist. It’s curiously self-titled even though it’s his third release, but maybe the fact that he played all the instruments explains that. His latest release, Changing Horses, a country-focused album, is also great.

38. Carbon Leaf – Indian Summer: I’ve listened to my favorite song from this album, “What About Everything?” 90 times according to iTunes (this counts only the times that my computer has played it, not the times it played on a cd in my car or on my iPod). This band works harder than most on this list and probably barely eeks out a living, beside the fact that they’ve put out seven great albums.

If you’ve actually read this much, you’re either very interested in an amateur review or you love me very much. Thanks.

Spoon headlines The Night the Buzz Stole Christmas

When a band has been playing music with each other for 15 years, it usually begins to show. Even without the raw talent, the stage act is bound to progress. With a band flowing with talent like Spoon, 15 years of practice certainly adds up.

It makes bands that have only been playing together for two years--like Hockey--or six years--like the Bravery--look like inexperienced youngsters. But these bands--Hockey, Metric, the Bravery, and Spoon--all played together at the Night the Buzz Stole Christmas (a local radio station's Christmas show) at the Midland last night.

Hockey started off the night, showing their enthusiasm that couldn't be channeled well enough. With their first beats, I knew there was a reason why they were paired with Spoon. They had some neat rhythms, but it was very amateur, and they were shell-shocked by the size of the crowd. Neither the lead singer nor the bassist could clearly speak to the crowd between songs (and they were the only two that tried). The mic sounded fine when they sung, but they clammed up whenever they tried to say anything between songs and it just sounded like "Pzzzz." I thought I heard the bassist saying something about being from Oregon and that this was their first Kansas City show. Yay for the Oregonians, but I'll be looking for this band after they've made three or four stops in this city and have improved their art.

Metric changed gears entirely. Fronted by the only woman of the evening, their stage presence was overwhelming. Now that I have wikipedia at my fingertips, I see that they've been making music for over a decade. It shows. The singer, Emily Haines, captivated the audience, especially the males, in her super short, sparkly, no-back dress. It wasn't just her clothes, though. This lady knew how to rock the stage, and they had the music to back it up. Apparently they sing the song "Help, I'm alive. My heart keeps beating like a hammer" that comes on the radio a lot. Looks like it took them a decade to get any commercial success with their music, which is quite reminiscent to Spoon.

The Bravery's emo came next. They had stage presence as well, but they're still young and frankly a bit too emo for me. While they have a couple radio hits, my favorite song was when the lead guitarist took over vocals from the Brandon Flowers wannabe singer and played an almost alt-country song. It isn't that their hit singles are horrible or anything, but they're kind of cliche. Although the song "Just give me something to believe" isn't anything that great, it's anthemic chorus begs to be sung to.

After four hours of standing, Spoon finally came on. From the beginning, we could see that this act was going to be different from the other three. These guys are so comfortable on stage--especially frontman Britt Daniel--and utterly captivating. With only four guys and usually only one guitarist (Daniel), they make fuller sounds than most other bands.

Daniel doesn't do anything too fancy with the guitar, but his skill is obvious. I remember seeing him play a solo show (although Janet Weiss of Sleater-Kinney played drums) in his residence Portland last year, and I couldn't stop looking at his abnormally large hands that could play a chord across the entire guitar neck, I swear. Looking at chords to any Spoon song is enough to give you a headache.

On stage, Daniel plays intricate lead guitar riffs while singing in his unique vocal style throughout. It's not often that you see a lead singer playing the guitar parts he does.

Drummer and producer Jim Eno, who is essentially the other half of Spoon, was emotionless as always, but Daniel carried the weight of the crowd.

This was the first show in four months for the band, according to Daniel, but only once did that show. Eno launched into the beating drum intro to "The Underdog," which is probably Spoon's biggest hit, and Daniel screwed up the guitar beyond hope. Eno and keyboardist Eric Harvey kept up with their maraca beat, waiting for Daniel to salvage his off-key mess. It was beyond hope, but when he started the progression over, the song got off to a solid start. Spoon has undoubtedly played this song at every concert in the last three years, so you know they're rusty if they mess it up.

Although this show is pretty random, as the band isn't on a tour, they are getting ready to release their seventh album, Transference, in January. Although they did play three or four new songs, never once did they plug their new album in hopes of selling records. Not sure if their record label would agree with me, but I think that's admirable.

When I thought their set was maybe halfway over, they waved goodbye and left the stage. Encore and all only added up to an hour, but I guess that's the breaks of a four-band show. I know I've seen Spoon some 3 1/2 times, but I wish they would have given this legendary band that's just getting into their stride some more time.

But looking back at Spoon's repertoire, it took the band more than a decade to get any kind of commercial success. It took them a few years to achieve any musical success even by merit, as their first two albums (in my opinion) are better called Pixies wannabes than original works. Once they found their stride, some commercial success followed, and they're walking strong. I wouldn't be surprised if some of these younger bands to follow suit in a few years.

An evening with Monsters of Folk, Omaha 10-28-09

Walking up to the Holland Performing Arts Center, I felt under dressed in my jeans and peacoat. The other concertgoers were dressed similarly, not in ball gowns or anything like that. But all of us were dressed much worse than the architecture and furnishings of the grand theater.

Unlike most rock shows, including the two times I've seen Conor Oberst live and the one M. Ward concert, this wasn't the typical rundown rock club or even the ballroom-turned-rock club, Crystal Ballroom in Portland. This was the city's elegant symphony hall. Actually, probably the symphony hall for the entire state of Nebraska. Looking at the posters for upcoming concerts, there wasn't likely to be another rock band stopping here anytime in years.

But indie supergroup Monsters of Folk chose venue this as their heartland stop, and it soon became clear why. When the red velvet curtain parted, four men dressed in three-piece suits were jamming to the first single, "Say Please." So yes, they were dressed for the occasion. But notice also that they were "jamming," a rare verb to be applied to the setting of this theater.

The irony was plentiful with the musicians more often seen in cowboy boots (Conor Oberst, Jim James) or a baseball cap (M. Ward). However, even more clear was the excitement of a hometown show. While Jim James calls Kentucky home, and Matt Ward hails from Portland, Conor Oberst and Mike Mogis, the final two members of MOF, were born and raised in Omaha, Nebraska. Even beyond that, the supergroup had their origins in this Midwest town, and they recorded the majority of their recent self-titled album in the studio that sits in the backyard between Mogis and Oberst's houses.

While most of my thoughts leading up to the concert were based around the idea, "Oh my gosh, I can't believe I'm seeing Conor Oberst play in Omaha!," I also pondered the sentiments that Oberst and Mogis must have been feeling playing in this venue in their hometown. According to the Omaha Globe Herald, the theater welcomed 1,400 guests that evening, and I would imagine that at least a couple hundred of those were friends and family of the two Omahans. And I can imagine that their parents were a good deal more proud of their sons playing in this elegant venue than in the dirty rock clubs they frequently tour.

In fact, fellow Omaha musician and a spawn of Saddle Creek Records (that Oberst launched when he was 13 and succeeded to put out all eight Bright Eyes albums as well as many by the Faint, Cursive, Maria Taylor, and Rilo Kiley) Tim Kasher of The Good Life sings about the Orpheum, the sister theater to the Holland in "Leaving Omaha" (also of note is that band's name honors the state of Nebraska, as "the good life" is the state's motto. See photo at right)

All to say that playing in this theater must have been a big deal for these guys.

Luckily, it was a big deal for the audience too. That's saying something since we paid $50 a piece to be there. Some crazy people even drove from Kansas City and stayed overnight in a (free) hotel because they had dreamed of seeing Conor Oberst in Omaha all the way from Oregon. But most weren't that crazy.

But as the Omaha World-Herald's front page (that's right, there isn't much happening in Omaha and this city is proud of their music) review of the concert the next day said in the lede of the article, "Anyone curious should know: It was well worth it."

Three hours, 35 songs, all but one from the MOF album and tracks from each of the songwriter's repertoires greeted the listeners from brilliant acoustics. As I've already said, a rock show in an opera house was a new experience for me, and the acoustics blew me away.

Jim James' booming voice was so incredible that it sounded unearthly. I've never been a huge My Morning Jacket (Southern rock band that's James' chief songwriting vehicle) fan, but hearing his voice live was quite an experience. Whether he was singing leads or providing spot-on harmonies behind Conor or M., his voice reigned supreme.

But it had to compete with the brilliance of M. Ward's guitar playing. Having always liked M.'s solo work, it wasn't until I saw him live for the first time last fall that I was converted into a true follower. He's without a doubt one of the best guitarists currently performing, and his folk/acoustic work leaves him without any peers instrumentally.

While Conor Oberst's vocal sandpaper is incomparable to James' smooth-as-silk voice, and his guitar playing stands no chance when compared to Ward's, he was far from overshadowed. His natural stage presence sometimes brought him to the role of leader, even in the democracy of MOF. He was quick to talk with the audience, dedicating songs to hometown friends like Mike Mogis' wife and Todd Fink (of the Faint. Conor said, "This is for my friend Todd Fink. I'm not sure if he's here tonight or not, but this is for him," then launched into "The Big Picture" while I sat in awe of the fact that I was seeing Conor play a hometown show, dedicating songs to other brilliant Omaha musicians.) Plus, his lyrical skills are unmatched by anyone playing current music. (That's right Dylan, your current lyrics don't even compare to Conor's.) I'm not sure if anyone else in attendance picked up on Conor's fateful change of the lyrics of "We Are Nowhere and It's Now," but I heard "She took a small silver wreath and pinned it onto me. She said this one will bring you love. Now I know that's not true, but I keep it for good luck." (Cynical, but oh so Oberstian.)

And Mike Mogis, the quiet man that earned the title of the most awkward person I've ever met in my entire life, too often fades into the back. Never stepping closer than six feet to the nearest microphone, he's easy to miss. But his flawless producing is just as genius, if not more so, than his fellow Monsters. Not to mention the fact that he can play at least two dozen instruments with incredible competency.

As the night passed, musicians passed on and off stage. All four began on stage along with their hired drummer, but slowly they fade off and on stage for each songwriter to play solo or in various combinations. And even when one songwriter was playing lead, another would take over on the other's song. For instance, all four men rocked out to Bright Eyes' "At the Very Bottom of Everything," trading lead vocals on verses instead of Conor singing it all.

Three hours continued in this way, without an intermission.

“If you have to go to the bathroom, just go to the bathroom. If you have to get a beer, do it. We don't mind,” Oberst said. “It was a choice between an intermission and no intermission, and we went with no intermission. You won't hurt our feelings. Everyone's got their needs.”

Besides Oberst's shout-outs to local friends and family, the other musicians commented on returning to Omaha as well.

“The year was 2004 when the Monsters of Folk met in this great town of Omaha. It's very meaningful to be back here,” Ward said. M. didn't give any kind of shout out to Oregon, though, which disappointed me. I have a feeling he'd be surprised to hear there was another Oregonian in attendance that night.

James also honored the city. "We've spent many hundreds of hours here under the careful guidance of Mr. Oberst and Mr. Mogis,” he said. “You did a great job raising these boys.” On that comment each and every Nebraskan in attendance screamed as if they were his or her own sons.

I imagine that had I seen MOF in Portland two weeks earlier or in Minneapolis just a day after their stop in Omaha, they would have been just as good. I'm now naming this the best concert I've ever seen for raw musical talent, performance, the excitement of the hometown show, and let's not forget that tireless stamina. But there's something about seeing Conor Oberst in Omaha that is incomparable to anything else.

**Photos suck because I was only able to snap about five from my waist, without flash, because the operahouse hawks were patrolling**

***I had an excellent adventure in Omaha, which was of course capped off by this concert. I hope to post photos and stories from my pilgrimage in an upcoming post.***

Wilco (The Concert)

This concert was about three years in the making for me. Wilco tours constantly, but for some reason I kept missing them when they came to Oregon. I even have a promotional poster from a show they played in Bend that has been teasing me from my wall for the last year. I snagged the cheap-paper poster from a light post in Southeast Portland even though I didn't make it to that show.

Finally, after I knew I was moving to Kansas City, I saw that they were touring the Midwest. Granted, at an outdoor show in October in the Midwest is crazy, but it was still Wilco. After all this time I finally got to see what the hype was about their live show.

It's not just hype. I've seen a lot of concerts, but musically their performance at Grinders on Oct. 6 is up there on my list. They aren't flashy. They find no need for fancy backdrops or nonsensical banter, but they know how to play a brilliant rock show. It helps that they are six incredible musicians with a decade and a half of experience playing together (for most of the band).

They began the set with "Wilco (The Song)." I guess that if a band writes a song about themselves, they're fated to opening every subsequent live set with that song. No complaints because it's a good song, despite the ironic cheesiness.

While I'd heard that the band has quite the sense of humor and truly cares about its audience, they didn't speak a word between songs for the first eight or nine songs. They didn't need to. The music spoke for itself.

Wilco played democratically from the newest album (Wilco (The Album)) and dug back in the vaults more than a decade, including playing songs from Mermaid Avenue, Wilco and Billy Bragg's interpretation of Woody Guthrie's unrecorded lyrics.

On songs old and new, lead guitarist Nels Cline made any other guitarist's solos look like a joke. Called "one of the best guitarists in any genre" by David Carr of the New York Times (article here), Cline proved that he deserved this title. But it wasn't just the flashy guitar riffs. Each musician proved himself at the top of his instrument, including the two keyboardists/weird sound makers.

Amidst the stellar instrumentation, one thing stood above it all. Lead singer and songwriter Jeff Tweedy remained in control of the show. But Tweedy has far from the most booming voice in rock music. His gentle voice instead allowed room for more emotion than I could explain. Tweedy is in absolute control of his voice, whether in a soft, almost whisper, or a raucous scream. I've never seen anything quite like it.

Despite the lack of conversation in the beginning, Wilco eventually had plenty to say between nearly every song. Tweedy even addressed those screaming requests. Showing the band's passion for politics, Tweedy advised the audience to take a democratic poll while the band was backstage at the encore. While the poll didn't take place as expected, a request was decided upon, and Tweedy even joked about the UN coming in to observe our democratic practices.

Through the freezing weather (really, it snowed only a few miles away four days after the show. I know Wilco's from Chicago and this probably isn't cold to them, but that's ridiculous. October is too late for an outdoor show in the Midwest.) and the good humor of band and audience alike, nothing stood through as much as the music. Excellent instrumentalists yet with a vocalist in great control of his voice, Wilco is one of the best bands currently making music. And it's good to see that their live show exhibits just that: the music.

Two videos I took that still don't give justice:

Wilco - "I am Trying to Break Your Heart"


Wilco - "I'll Fight"

Monsters of Folk album review

Find the fallacy:

If 1+1+1+1=4,

then one great indie songwriter + one great indie songwriter + one great indie songwriter + one great indie producer = four great indie musicians.

Answer: The equation is not correct in all possible scenarios because Conor Oberst + Matt Ward + Jim James + Mike Mogis = so much more than four great indie musicians. They're the Monsters of Folk.

That said, if this band were even close to the sum of its parts, the world wouldn't have survived past the Sept. 22 release date because it would be blown away by creative genius. Luckily, we've survived because it's not humanly possible for anything to be four times as good as a single one of these artists.

Some five years ago, Oberst, Ward, James and Mogis collaborated for a short stint of east coast tour dates. The group only played a few shows then they separated again to their own highly successful creative endeavors. Oberst jumped back in with his band Bright Eyes, which could nearly be called Oberst's personal pseudonym along with two other regular contributors, including Mogis. Oberst would also go on create two "solo" albums with Conor Oberst and the Mystic Valley Band within a few years. Ward continued to be a solo guitar virtuoso in a generation with few representatives, playing as M. Ward and later collaborating with actress Zooey Deschanel for the critically acclaimed She & Him. James' southern rock band My Morning Jacket launched into its most successful years yet, and Mogis jumped back in with Bright Eyes while producing albums by everyone from Rilo Kiley to the Faint (pretty much anyone who has stepped foot in the state of Nebraska in the last decade--and that's a compliment).

When the musicians played this short tour, they realized how much fun it was to collaborate together with like minds and planned to rendezvous again later. They didn't necessarily promise an album, but they hoped to get together again soon. They didn't plan a full five year break, but they also didn't plan to be as successful as each and every one of them was in those years.

Earlier this year, they gathered in the musical mecca of Omaha, Neb. with no particular goal in mind. What emerged was "Monsters of Folk," the self-titled album that was released Tuesday.

Back on that short east coast tour, they referred to themselves jokingly by the lofty title Monsters of Folk. It was never an official title, and they didn't particularly want it to be. But when they went to give themselves an official name, nothing else worked. They've admitted that the title is a gag, but I think that if each of them comprehends the slightest of their individual talent, they won't be as ashamed of that name and critics can stop scoffing it.

The album itself isn't an absolute surprise. Each songwriter has five songs on the final cut, and they sing leads on their songs, with the others adding vocals. "Losin Yo Head" would be at home on My Morning Jacket's 2008 album "Evil Urges." "Slow Down Jo" could have been placed in the middle of Ward's album "Hold Time" released earlier this year (or it would have fit blasting out of a transistor radio in 1940, but that goes for just about any song Ward has ever penned). "Temazcal" actually does sound quite like a track on Oberst's first solo album, released last year.

But with the Monsters of Folk treatment, these tracks aren't just solo tracks. While the songwriter generally sings lead, sometimes the other singers trade off verses, and they always contribute background harmonies. This may sound like nothing, and if that's the case, listen to one song by each of these three four singers (Try "Vincent O'Brien" for Ward, "Road to Joy" for Oberst, and "I'm Amazed" for James--youtube links at bottom). They have very distinct voices, with Oberst's raucous growl (That Bright Eyes video has a classic Oberst lyric: "I could have been a famous singer if I had someone else's voice. But failure always sounded better, let's fuck it up boys make some noise!") blending with Ward's melting ice cream voice. James' more conventionally tasteful range rounds out the sound, lending an effect that doesn't blend at all. On any given note you can pick out each singer in the harmony.

The supergroup has the most success when the songwriters' individual styles aren't as evident. This isn't often as I could pick out from literally the first note on my first listen of the album who wrote each song (that's how distinct their songwriting is as well), but when it does happen, it's great. The first single "Say Please" is an example of this. Ward's voice booms out first, but the singers alternate verses, choruses and even the exclamations of "darlin'" in absolute democracy. "Whole Lotta Losin'" owes more to the early rock & roll of Buddy Holly and Chuck Berry than any of these songwriters, and it shines because of that. This track also allows for the most truth in the Traveling Wilburys comparisons.

While it most definitely isn't a sum of its parts, it is excellent songwriting, production, and most of all, it brought about a challenge that these artists needed at this point in their careers. Not only did they step out of their comfort zone by playing every instrument on the record (not bad for four guitarists), the diverse songwriting brought each musician out of his box. James' lyrics have often, for lack of a more descriptive word, sucked. Likewise, Oberst has written some pretty sucky melodies. But together, James' deep melodies with Oberst's unparalleled lyrics make an unbeatable song. And while Ward is possibly the best folk guitarist currently playing, sometimes his songwriting doesn't allow for his natural instrumental and vocal talent to show. The few times when I couldn't instantly name the vocal were when Ward was singing in a range that his own songwriting has never allowed for, and the effect was great.

The cynicism is great amid this album--just the word supergroup has such connotations. While these four guys may not equal the combined power of George Harrison, Bob Dylan, Tom Petty, Roy Obison and Jeff Lynne, I honestly would have a hard time thinking of a better indie dream team (just for fun I'd throw in Ben Gibbard, Jeff Tweedy, and Colin Meloy, but now we've got too much creativity for an entire children's book).

And to combat the arguments about the ridiculous name, I ask this: If not these guys, who are the monsters of folk? Even Bob Dylan doesn't stick to the folk genre anymore, and precious few have tried to carry on the torch. These four men are among the very few that have dabbled (dabbled is the key--they sure aren't true folk, certainly not on this album) successfully into this genre in recent years, and for that reason, they absolutely deserve to be called the monsters of the genre.


To get a small sample of their brilliance, check out this video:



Examples of each songwriter individually:

How can the creator of "OK Computer" veer away from the album format?

How can the creator of "OK Computer" veer away from the album format?

That's all I really want to ask, but I will elaborate. Radiohead frontman and mastermind Thom Yorke recently told The Believer, "I always hated CDs ... I'm happy to see the CD format disappear."

No need to jump to conclusions with that statement because CDs have been criticized at the fact that they deteriorate after only a few hours and many people still prefer the classic sound of vinyl. However, what he goes on to say further in the interview is troubling. You can find a full transcript here.

He mentions the desire to explore individual genres in an EP format, which is respectable and intriguing. But he also goes on more: "None of us want to go into that creative hoo-ha of a long-play record again. Not straight off."

Yorke dabbles into some vague territory about some bright new plan to release music differently in the technological age (which is saying something after what they did with their last release "In Rainbows." This is all interesting, and maybe I'm underestimating this great band. They may have a brilliant plan. Likely they do.

But on the off chance that they don't, I'm worried about their discussion of ditching the album format.

Let's revisit Radiohead's third LP release, "OK Computer." Yes, their first two were excellent and certainly put them on the map in both Britain and abroad, but this record shot them completely off the map. With all the talk of aliens on this album, they could very well be some themselves, explaining the unearthly work. It's the ultimate album, in my opinion, in that it stays on a broad theme while exploring different aspects. The music is absolutely flawless, lyrics inspiring, and execution incredible. This is the best album of the last 20 years, if I have the power to declare it so.

Unfortunately, my word doesn't mean much, so let's consult these people:

Allmusic: 5/5
Rolling Stone: 5/5 (a 2009 revisit)
Pitchfork Media: 10/10 (this is unspeakably rare. Pitchfork is incredibly critical.)
NME: 10/10

All this to say: Radiohead, I'll allow you to make a couple of EPs and drop a few singles, but you better get that creative LP juice going again because there's nothing like a solid album. And there's absolutely nothing like "OK Computer."


To check out Radiohead's latest attempt at a single song, check out their track "These Are My Twisted Words" that got dropped last week. It appeared in the following format on a Radiohead fan site:

iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
iiiiiiiiii iiiiiiiiiiii
iiiiiii radiohead - these are my twisted words iiiiiii
iiiiiii iiiiiii
iiii artist.......radiohead iiii
iiii title........these are my twisted words iiii
iiii label........?????????? iiii
iiii cat.nr.......????????? iiii
iiii style........'dificult' iiii
iiii nr of tracks.1 iiii
iiii total length..5.32 iiii
iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
iiii audio source.CD Advance iiii
iiii encoder......LAME 3.93 iiii
iiii quality......320kbps/44.1kHz/Joint Stereo iiii
iiii size.........12,70 MB iiii
iiii ripper.......sca[GG]er iiii
iiii rls.date.....2009-08-17 iiii
iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
iiii i just wanted to reassure readers iiii
iiii that following representations iiii
iiii seeking confirmation iiii
iiii that before your very eyes iiii
iiii behind the wall of ice iiii
iiii that the box is not under threat iiii
iiii however they are set to remove iiii
iiii other boxes iiii
iiii in fact i have the list in front of me iiii
iiii i went to a briefing on their plans iiii
iiii and challenged them to tell me iiii
iiiii exactly what the cost would be iiiiiii
iiiiii iiiiiiii
iiiiiii they spoke in broad terms iiiiiiiiii
iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
iiiiiiiiiii we're looking for: talented puppeteers iiiiiiiiiii
iiiiiiiiii worms, disgruntled executives, sacked flies iiiiiiiiii
iiiiiiii genres: doomcore, folktronica, ukf iiiiiiii
iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

After the indie bloggers argued it up for a few days, Radiohead multi-instrumentalist Jonny Greenwood cleared the record and took ownership of the song on behalf of the band. I think Radiohead can't hide at all with their unique style, but it's nice to know for certain. Maybe this hide-and-go-seek game is their idea of album releases. Regardless, no complaints because they're giving it away free here.

Coldplay at the Clark County Amphtheater July 10

Coldplay is the biggest band in the world right now. Believe me, I wish that I could say that Wilco is the biggest band in the world, or the Shins, or the Decemberists, or even Radiohead or U2 or R.E.M., but that's not an accurate statement. Right now, and probably for my generation, Coldplay has the top tier. Note that this absolutely does not mean that they are the best, but they are the "biggest."

And really, they aren't very good. Musically, their work isn't very diverse. Granted, Viva la Vida or Death and All His Friends is quite good, but as a whole, they aren't even that great of musicians. Although I must say that Chris Martin was doing some pretty cool improvisations on the piano, which made me wonder why he sticks to the boring block chords in studio albums. But they certainly know how to put on a show and give their loyal fans (which I'll admit isn't me) what they deserve.

So this review is incredibly late. The show was over a month ago (July 10). But I keep thinking about it despite the fact that I've been to two or three shows since then (and no, this certainly wasn't better than Jon Foreman's performance--see below--but honestly, it may have beat out the Decemberists).

Coldplay is a huge band, but I'm not sure it's completely gone to their head. Indeed, a rush of blood has gone to their head, but I'm not sure of more than that.

They played for about an hour, then they started running up the crowd toward us. The thousands of people in the crowd were going nuts. They stop about 3/4 way through the seated audience, and a piano pops up from a trapdoor. They played three or four songs from here.

After another spirited performance on the grand stage, they again darted into the crowd. Up where we were in the lawn area it was hard to see where the band had gone. Then, out of nowhere, they appeared in the lawn area. They were literally exactly where we were standing but on the left side instead of the right. I was cursing our luck of choosing to sit on the right side instead of the left when I realized that my sister and several of our other blanketmates were out of sight. Just as an image flashed through my imagination of my sister appearing on the giant screen with Chris Martin, they started performing from up there. The first song was a folk song that wouldn't have been out of place on an 18th century fishing boat that was actually sung by the drummer. It was quite interesting.

I think perhaps the most intriguing part of the whole concert for me was the community experience. There aren't many times in our current world of hundreds of TV channels when thousands of people are experiencing the same exact thing at the same exact time. I've been to a couple big shows before, but nothing was like this giant sold-out amphitheater experience.

Coldplay kept the energy up the whole time and kept yelling specifically for the people way up in the lawn, which is unique. Their humility was obvious, and that is extremely impressive for the biggest band in the world.


*For a taste of the live experience and the biggest band in the world's humility, check out the live album they're giving away on their website right now*




Kristen also guest stars in this video.

Portland music tour

I don't know if it's the good coffee, the high quantity of microbreweries or its proximity to both mountains and the ocean, but Portland, Ore. is a magnet for indie music. I'm confident that there's not a city in the U.S. that has a more vibrant music scene than Portland. There are locally brewed bands like the Decemberists who play free shows for their city from time to time. Late singer/songwriter Elliott Smith lived in the Rose City for the majority of his life. Even Death Cab for Cutie, who are so proud of being from Seattle, must admit that 1/4 of their band--guitarist Chris Walla--resides in Portland. Modest Mouse calls it their home, and M. Ward lives here as well. It's such a hot spot that bands like the Shins have relocated from New Mexico to Portland, and legends from Peter Buck (of R.E.M.) and Johnny Marr (of the Smiths) have made Portland their home.

All this to say that Portland is known for its busy music scene not only for smaller local bands like Blind Pilot or Blitzen Trapper but also indie rock A-listers. How many Decemberists fans can say they saw the band play in their hometown while the bands' kids played ring-around-the-rosy at the side of the stage?

Now I don't want to be creepy and track down anyone like a stalker, but I did want to fully experience all that my city could offer and walk the same steps that these musicians have tracked. I embarked on a Portland music tour. Much of it centers around Elliott Smith since he wrote such autobiographical songs that were deeply rooted in Oregon, but some of the other musicians make an appearance as well.

The following were the stops today, in the order that we made them:

1. Condor Avenue - This street in Southwest Portland is the setting for Elliott Smith's song "Condor Avenue" off of his first album, Roman Candle. He supposedly wrote the song when he was 17, which would make sense because my best deductions (based on the fact that he went to Lincoln High School and his father was well-off), he may have lived somewhere near the West Hills when he was a teenager. This song is somewhat rare in Elliott's repertoire in that it's a clear story. The narrator has an argument with a girl over something petty, and next thing he knows she has taken the Oldsmobile and driven it over Condor Avenue. The road sign here shows the complexities of finding this location as there are in fact two Condor Avenues, but there actually is a cliff that a car could drive off of.

2. Lincoln High School - Elliott graduated from here in 1987, where he got good grades, played the clarinet in the marching band and got his first experience in rock bands. Unfortunately, he also started down the long road of alcohol and drugs. A more recent Lincoln grad unconnected to Elliott besides the timeless bond of music worked to create a small memorial at the school. We could barely peek in the window since it was a Saturday in the summer, but you can see a better picture of the plaque and the story behind it here.

3. Nuevo Mexico - Lunch time while on a Portland music tour means a taco at Nuevo Mexico, the taco cart recently opened by ex-Shins drummer Jesse Sandoval. The Shins surprised the world with a new lineup three months ago at their Portland show, with the drummer and keyboardist that have been with the quartet from day one, no longer Shins. Frontman James Mercer told Pitchfork, "I started to have production ideas that basically required some other people." That sounds like a nice way to say he wanted better talent. Sandoval surely has plenty of money to live on, so instead he's going back to his roots and has opened a taco cart. His family owned one as a child, so this is a way to bring his New Mexican roots to the Northwest, on SW 3rd and Stark to be exact. Unfortunately, Nuevo Mexico wasn't open on Saturdays, so Pita Pit it was.

4. Sixth and Powell - We really didn't mean to, but it turns out that we were making a pilgrimage to Elliott Smith's drug dealer on this one. He mentions the intersection 6th and Powell in the song "Needle in the Hay," and it's only upon more diligent listening that we noticed that he's probably singing about going to a drug dealer here:

Now on the bus
Nearly touching
This dirty retreat

Falling out
6th and Powell
A dead sweat in my teeth

Going to walk, walk, walk
Four more blocks
Plus the one in my brain

Down downstairs
To the man
He's going to make it all ok

Oops. Turns out there's this awesome mansion just over the Ross Island Bridge. The rest of the neighborhood looks sketchy, which explains the lyrics, but the actual intersection of 6th and Powell is closest to the cool mansion.

5. Ladd's Addition - A house that Elliott shared with friends in the 1990s near Southeast 16th and Division. We didn't know any more about which house it was, but we had a good time imagining. This house is a good example of the intertwining of Portland music: Shins frontman James Mercer now lives in the house, having moved in without realizing that it was the former home of yet another Portland legend. Supposedly Modest Mouse frontman Isaac Brock lives around the corner.

6. Alameda - This turned out to be a super fancy neighborhood in Northeast Portland. Elliott sings a song called "Alameda" that goes like this:

You walk down Alameda
Shuffling your deck of trick cards over everyone

Not sure any more significance than that, but it was exciting nonetheless.

7. Alberta Court - Chris Walla of Death Cab for Cutie is a major producer in the indie world, having left his print on works by the Decemberists, Tegan and Sara, along with Death Cab itself. His studio, which is in his house, is called Alberta Court, and while I know no more than that, I bet it's on the street called Alberta Court.

That may look like a collage of street corners (that almost all have to do with Elliott Smith), it's a small proof of the spread of good music throughout this city. Do a search for indie music, and make a count of how many come from Portland.

Switchfoot at the Crystal Ballroom; Jon Foreman at the Max stop, July 31, 2009

There are so many strange factors to this tour:

1. Switchfoot is releasing a new album in three months. It's standard for bands to tour the new album, so expect a tour in late fall. They'll tour again about six months after the album came out to reengage interest, and then if they have a long pause in their production schedule until the next album comes out, there may be another random tour in there, too. But it's unusual for a band to tour just three months before an album. Random timing.
2. It's a purposeful tour in that it's called "Crazy Making," and it's supposedly a co-headlining tour with Blue October.
3. Blue October has had one major hit, with one (maybe two) others making radio appearances. They're not very talented. Switchfoot has had 10 successful singles (conservative guess stabbing in the dark), and they were the opener that only played for an hour. What a joke. I'd guess that 80 percent of the crowd was there for Switchfoot judging by the noise, signs, and pre-show chant. None of the sort for Blue October.
4. One of Blue October's shirts had a defacing picture of Jesus on the cross. They're not a spiritual band at all that I can see. I'm not one to take offense to that, but that's just a little strange when paired with Switchfoot and some of the Christian-bubble folk they attracted. (I need to pause here to say that Switchfoot does not conform to the Christian bubble at all, but that doesn't mean none of their crowd does. Instead, I'd say they bring up questions that anyone who's trying to live a life on earth deals with.)

Despite all the factors, obviously this tour is real and actually happening. Blue October with Switchfoot, but really it was just Switchfoot playing a highly energetic hour-long set, a large portion of the crowd leaving, then Blue October still thinking very highly of themselves (somehow).

Before I get any further, I need to say that if you read nothing else, skip below to read about why Jon Foreman is now #1 on my list of nicest and most real musicians (well, Carbon Leaf is up there too). But continuing...

Let's just ignore Blue October. That's what they deserve anyway.

Like I said, it's an interesting time for Switchfoot to be touring. I'd heard that their new album (Hello Hurricane) is totally done, so I was expecting that maybe they would focus on brand new songs. They did play two or three new tunes, but the majority of the songs were actually from their album The Beautiful Letdown, which I would go so far as to call a classic, at least in my own library. However, it's now approaching three albums ago. They played only one (maybe two, depending on my memory) song from their latest album.

Now I suppose this isn't that unusual as many times when a band goes on a tour at a random time like this, they often dig deep into their songbooks and even throw some interesting covers in (see Shins posting below). The timing of this tour just surprised me.

Summing up those last few paragraphs of rambling, they featured a great setlist of classic Foot songs.

I have never seen Switchfoot live before but have wanted to for at least seven years. They've come to Eugene when I've been in Portland, and Portland when I've been in Roseburg. Meanwhile, I'd heard that they are at their best live and put on pretty breathtaking shows. I'd now echo that statement.

Keep in mind that it was about 90 degrees in Portland yesterday (Switchfoot is from San Diego, and they couldn't stop talking about how hot it was). The Crystal Ballroom does not have air conditioning. True statement. It had to be at least 110 degrees in there and bodies sponging up against each other.

Frontman Jon Foreman said twice, "If we pass out, you guys keep going." But pass out he did not; instead, he put on an intensely energetic show.

Switchfoot takes generous influence from U2 in many ways, but never was it clearer than seeing them live. Jon could have been a younger Bono at times in his stage presence and booming voice. ("Hey, Bono, glad you asked. Life is still worth living.")

This band puts on a great show, but even more so, they promote good causes and get people thinking about important questions like what is love? how are we spending our time on earth? what are our possessions?

I know they're mainstream and can be annoying (yes). Just give 'em a chance.

Now, on to what I really want to talk about. I paid $35 (it was rough) to see one of my favorite bands play for an hour. Not too bad, but I figured I might as well stick around for the other band. I did and lasted three songs, was disgusted both by the band and the emo crowd, so I decided to head out. I walked by Switchfoot's tour bus on the way to my car and saw a couple of the guys. Let me pause to say that Jon Foreman pretty much is Switchfoot. He writes all the songs and is quite talented (though his brother Tim is the bassist, he doesn't do much composing to my knowledge.) So a couple of the guys were around, and I got them to sign my ticket stub. But I could tell that Jon hadn't come out yet because fans were obviously waiting for something.

I was by the bus for maybe five minutes when Jon comes out clutching an acoustic guitar. Some people suggested we walk to Pioneer Square for brilliant acoustics, so we started that way, Jon strumming "Hey Jude" to an impromptu sing along as we went (see video below). Jon, not being a Portlander used to walking the downtown, suggested we stop by a Max stop instead of going the extra four blocks there. The Max wouldn't let us on because there were some 50 of us, and we couldn't all get on while the doors were open. So there we were at the Galleria/SW 10th stop in a little nook by a store apparently called the Real Mother Goose, where he played a private acoustic concert to the dedicated fans. As you can see in the video below, it appears that he truly is the real Mother Goose.

He asked someone to get out a piece of paper and pen and to pass it around the group. "That will be the set list," he said.

He played for about an hour, focusing on his solo stuff, but also playing others like "The Shadow Proves the Sunshine" and, to my surprise, "Only Hope," which was marked Switchfoot's entrance to success some ten years ago with the Walk to Remember soundtrack.

He also spoke very candidly with fans in a conversation, but most importantly, he wanted to emphasize that concerts like these are what makes him do what he does. He said something along the lines of, "There are no tickets, no money, no merchandise." Only music, a musician, and listeners. A brilliant combination.


An example of the intimacy of the performance. This is one of the best-known songs, which explains why you hear the crowd more than Jon. The focusing on random people was supposed to be a panning of the crowd to show that there were only some 40 people there. And the whirring about halfway through was the Max going by, which it did about once every two minutes of course...haha


The exodus from Crystal Ballroom to the acoustic site, playing a sing-along version of "Hey Jude" along the way. This is my attempt to show what a crazy sensation it was to be following a rock star with an acoustic guitar, singing along to one of the best songs of all time, with a crowd of some 40 people in downtown Portland at night.

Nothing is Impervious

Journalism has been drowning for quite a while now, with many of the best newspapers now only kitty litter. But I never considered the fact that the recession and our society's lack of appreciation for quality journalism to touch rock journalism, let alone my favorite independent magazine, Paste. However, a few days ago, I got a desperate plea in my inbox. It looked something like this: www.pastemagazine.com/savepaste

I've been a long supporter of saving our nation's journalism, going more drastic than most in my call for action. I think that instead of helping out major auto corporations that chose to ignore the need to design fuel-efficient cars, the government should help save the fourth estate instead. You can find my opinion here (albeit I wrote this literally the day the newspaper was published in about 15 minutes).
Nonetheless, I'm not sure what I feel about a desperate plea. Paste has always been a different sort of medium that cares more about its readers and indeed has more of a relationship with them, which is very admirable. Ignoring whatever mixed feelings I may have about the plea, the fact that it is needed is deeply troubling. Journalism may fail to continue in print form, but if it ever diminishes in quality or quantity of media, we have a major problem.

Even if this is a "frivolous" entertainment magazine, it plays a major role in the promotion of art, culture, and music, and provides a voice. A society without voices is nothing. Or maybe it's a totalitarian government. This seems extreme, but I assure you that it is not. The demise of journalism is a major issue today and one that we should all be caring about much more.

I may not be writing my check to the magazine, but I've been a devoted reader for three years and am currently unemployed. I'm not sure that writing checks is the answer, but I don't know what is. I just hope that our government begins to see the significance of this issue.

The Shins, Crystal Ballroom, May 6, 2009

Sometimes if a band goes two years without touring or two and a half without releasing an album, their fans will lose interest in them. But that band is not the Shins.

While on a short tour of the two U.S. coasts, the Shins are in the middle of a two-night stop in their hometown--Portland. The band made some comments about being rusty and forgetting how to perform live, but it was obvious that their fans had not forgotten them or the notes that blasted from the speakers one bit.

However, as much as the fans remembered their favorite band clearly in their minds, the Shins have changed considerably since they last performed in public in the summer of 2007. The Shins, once a four-person group from Albequerque, New Mexico, added Eric Johnson of the Fruit Bats to their ranks before making their last album. Little did the fans know that the rest of the band was transforming as well. Keyboardist Marty Crandall, who played with the Shins since thir Albequerque beginnings, got bad press for alleged domestic assault of his then-girlfriend in January 2008, and is now mysteriously absent from the lineup. The band has been quiet about this whole blemish. Frontman James Mercer says the alleged crime has nothing to do with Crandall's exit, and it actually sounds more that Mercer was looking for some new talent. Nonetheless, he's gone. Drummer Jesse Sandoval is now also missing, replaced by Joe Plummer, (No joke. This is supposedly his real name, though, and this guy seems a lot cooler than the tax-dodging, famous-for-a-day Joe.) who has played with Modest Mouse in the past.

This was a surprise for me but not as big of a surprise as Mercer's change of demeanor. When I saw the Shins in February of 2007, I barely remember Mercer speaking a word. He might have said "Thank you" once between songs, but Crandall did most of the chatting between songs. I've read interviews with Mercer where he said that he used to barf before concerts because he was so incredibly nervous and shy. He seemed so much happier and more comfortable this time, making the concert more fun to watch. There's no better concert than a good band having a good time.

As a part of a two-night stint (sold out each night at $35 a head. Add that revenue up...), the Shins will be back on stage tonight. But I'm wondering what they're going to play. Yes, they have three flawless albums (I would not call many bands' discographies flawless, and they did some covers (Beach Boys and Neil Young woot woot), but they played nearly all their hits. Maybe I'm underestimating the number of hits the band has, but going off of the blockbuster singles, last night they played "New Slang" (thank goodness. Most beautiful song I know.), "Australia," "Sleeping Lessons," "Phantom Limb," "Caring is Creepy," and on... After some thought, the only single I can find that they skipped over was "Kissing the Lipless." But maybe I'm not giving this band enough credit.

One more point in this scattered review: I have never seen a more excited audience before. Even in a packed stadium to see Counting Crows and Maroon 5, the fans weren't near as excited to see their favorite sell-outs than they were for this small indie band that does very little to promote itself. The pre-show energy was tangible, and the audience was enthralled when the band began. When they disappeared for the illusion of an encore, they didn't do a measily clap then give up. I counted at least 10 consecutive slow claps before I lost count, among other chants as well.

The Shins played a few new songs, all of which were upbeat and promising, but the band has made no clear promises of a release. Early 2010 is being thrown around, but with half of the band rookies, ambiguity is amok.

The Shins have done very little to make themselves as big as they are (besides snatching the luckiest draw of the indie music world when they got into the "Garden State" soundtrack to launch their career), but there's no going back now. They just might be the biggest indie rock band today (yes, that's counting you Decemberists, Death Cab for Cutie, and Vampire Weekend), but 50 years from now will prove the same. The Shins' music isn't going away any time soon. Here's for hoping they treat their hometown with some more love in the near future.

Fleet Foxes at the Crystal Ballroom 4/12/09

Not many secular bands have the guts to play a concert on Easter Sunday since many fans would rather be spending the holiday at home with their families or celebrating the holy day by going to church. But then again, most secular bands don’t evoke a spiritual experience with the music they create.

Fleet Foxes, however, played a packed show Sunday night, filling the Crystal Ballroom with their heavenly harmonies, and the audience was entranced by the performance.

The band claimed that it has played in Portland “twice as much” as its native Seattle, and considering this is the fourth performance in Oregon in the last year, that could very well be true. This concert was not simply a repeat of past shows, though, as the unique Easter experience proved.

The highlight of the night was the debut of three new songs. This Portland show marked the start of a brief west coast tour, Fleet Foxes’ first major tour in a few months, so this was the very first time that they played the new songs in front of a real audience.

The band seemed apprehensive of this first performance. Before launching into the first new song, main songwriter and frontman Robin Pecknold said, “It’s not quite done and I don’t know the structure of it yet. Or the lyrics.”

After such a humble introduction, Fleet Foxes unleashed a beautiful but simple song with Pecknold picking a 12-string guitar, never once forgetting the lyrics and with a seemingly perfect structure.

The two other new songs, scattered with well-known older songs throughout the evening, displayed a variety that incorporated old themes from the first album while branching out into new directions. Both songs were more upbeat than many of the past songs, one with a resounding synthesizer behind the usual acoustic guitar melodies, the other a fast-paced song characterized by Pecknold’s frequent use of falsetto vocals.

“Any constructive feedback would be good,” Pecknold said to an awestruck audience, who seemed incapable of dishing any feedback besides enthusiastic applause. “I’ve never felt so vulnerable in my life until this moment,” he continued on, not noticing the crowd’s positive ovation.

However, drummer Josh Tillman was quick to see that he was the one truly in control of Pecknold’s vulnerability, positioned directly behind the lead singer. “You’re really the most vulnerable to me,” Tillman said, cutting himself off before he launched into the details of the power he has over Pecknold sitting in that position.

Having only officially released one full-length album and an EP, all within the last year, the young band is in the trying, perhaps vulnerable, phase leading up to its sophomore release. They released “Fleet Foxes,” the sole full-length, less than a year ago to huge critical acclaim.

The album topped many prestigious best-of-the-year lists and even scored 9 out of 10 for the notoriously hard-to-please music criticism Internet publication Pitchfork Media.

Their recent performance exhibited their steady footing despite this time of transition as they easily moved between new songs to the older “classics,” which of course are in themselves less than a year old yet already classics in the indie music realm.

At the Crystal Ballroom performance, few fans sung along to the music, maybe because Fleet Foxes’ lyrics can be complex and hard to understand on the first few listens. Or maybe it was out of reverence and awe of the vocal performance they were witnessing.

Often labeled indie folk or baroque pop, Fleet Foxes truly defies genres with their catchy melodies. Influences like Neil Young, Bob Dylan, the Beach Boys and Crosby, Stills and Nash are prevalent in their music, yet not a single song sounds like an attempt to replicate these models.

Fleet Foxes has undeniably been the subject of constant buzz in the last year, but their past releases, performances and future promise prove that these five young, long-haired guys in flannel shirts have the talent to back up every positive review, compliment and resounding ovation.

Their whimsical melodies, whether on the album or blasting out of the speakers at the Crystal Ballroom, transport the listener to a grassy meadow or wooded forest where this peaceful, melodious music seems more at home. Even as the music carries outside of the concert venue onto busy Burnside Street, the vocal harmonies evoke a scene either of a tranquil stream in the mountains or a heavenly chorus descending into downtown Portland, making this Easter day performance worthwhile.