Friday night started late again; Paul and I were determined to get some sleep before we headed out to a very long night of music.  I ended up taking a two hour nap, but Paul wasn’t as fortunate (this totally makes us sound gay, like we were sleeping in the same bed or something.  We weren’t, but if it makes you feel better to imagine that we were, that’s fine.), so I was nice and refreshed and he was still a little bleh.  We found ourselves getting food instead of seeing the 8pm bands (we hadn’t heard of any of them).  Food was sushi.  A quick tangent¹ about sushi: I love it.  I grew up hating seafood.  I still do, really.  In landlocked states, fish is smelly and disgusting, having been frozen for some time.  Once you get over the cascades, it generally tastes better.  I can eat salmon, because there is fresh salmon in Idaho, but other than that, get it away from me.  Lobsters, shrimp, etc?  No way, dudes.  I don’t want to eat ocean bugs.

cucumber rolls: the training wheels of the sushi world

My first experience with sushi was with an ex girlfriend and a platter from Fred Meyer².  It tasted awful, but since I didn’t know what sushi tasted like, nor did I want to look stupid, I said it tasted good.  After that, I didn’t eat sushi again until I moved to Portland, and it was with another ex girlfriend, and it was at Dragonfish, and it was a lot better.  I hate, hate, HATE tuna fish in the can; I think it smells awful, tastes awful, and I pitied my cat when he got some, but the tuna sashimi I had at Dragonfish was great.  Probably because it didn’t taste like fish, which is the number one comment about good fish, something that strikes me odd — let’s eat something that doesn’t taste like what it is!

Oh well.

After sushi we traveled to a place I’d never been before — Jimmy Mak’s.  We went to listen to M64, a band I’d never heard of.  At first I figured it was an older build of M83, but then I got wind that it was a jazz club, so I figured it was jazz.

We got in and the place was packed enough to force us to stand.  The lady in M64 (it’s a lady and a guy who is a DJ, I think?  I wasn’t paying attention) was singing and doing that jazzy shit that jazz singers do, and to be honest I wasn’t that impressed.  Where’s the muted trumpet?  Where’s the oboe?  All jazz bands require an oboe, I think it’s in the Jazz Constitution³.  The venue was great — small and dimly lit, bright sexy red everywhere.  It truly was one of the few places where hazy cigarette smoke would’ve really just made it perfect.  We ended up going upstairs into a narrow balcony overlooking the stage.  There were a few seats and tables, and the seats were all taken.  We might’ve stayed anyway, but there was only one problem — our feet.  As in, they were hurting from the previous two nights.  So we decided to leave.

Off, off, off we went to Holocene!  Another place I hadn’t visited yet.  My hipster cred is low; right now I’m at Level Two: Unironic Eyeglasses, well past Level One: Still Shops at Walmart.  Only a few more XP before I level up to Level Three: Heard of Sonic Youth, But Don’t Like Them⁴.

Holocene is a bar (obviously).  I find that I’m not describing these locations as much as I should be, but I don’t really know how to describe Holocene.  It’s a bar, there’s a hallway and an offshoot room where the bands play.  That’s about it.  Really, when you’ve seen one bar, you’ve seen them all, even the trendy ones.  Bars are broken down into three easy categories: dive, sports, and trendy.  Sometimes the trendy ones are called “clubs.”  Remember this when you turn 21, young readers.  The mystery of bars is solved.

Really, turning 21 is fun for about a weekend.  Then you drink too much, then you realize that the best reason for being 21 is having a beer with your buddies, not going nuts every weekend.

the prids

Anyway, the band that was up when we got there was the Prids.  The picture here isn’t quite accurate — there was a girl playing keyboards, but I can’t find a picture of her.  The Prids have actually been quite a mainstay in the Portland scene.  They formed in Missouri in 1995 but moved here soon after and have been kicking ass since 1998.  They play bass-driven “dark-pop” music, and it’s very good.  They were also involved in a pretty heavy car accident in 2008, where everyone was injured to some degree and their equipment was destroyed.  Pretty nasty stuff.  Fortunately they looked good and rocked at Holocene.  This weekend was a lot of new bands being awesome, and the Prids were no exception.

I should mention at this point that some girls were handing out Red Bulls, and I took one, and I hadn’t drank a Red Bull (or similar energy drink) in about two years.  So I was pretty intense for the rest of the night.

explode into colors

Next up was Explode into Colors, three hot girls playing hot rhythmic dance rock music stuff.  I don’t know how to explain them (use the photo for reference): the girl on the far right was short, played a simple bass line on a regular guitar (and sometimes some scales), made a lot of “OOOHHH” noises into a microphone, and seemed upset because her sample pedal wasn’t working.  The girl on the far left was probably one of the most proficient drummers I’ve ever seen, playing beats that looked impossible with flawless precision.  The girl in the middle was playing some toms and cowbells and whatnot, and sometimes a keyboard, and sometimes a melodica, and was also whooping rhythmically whenever possible.  It had a raw energy to it that I haven’t heard replicated on any tracks of theirs I heard (a similar issue I had with Finn Riggins — I’ll write about this in general tomorrow).  I tried to explain them to my coworkers that Monday.  One of them took a listen to their stuff and didn’t get it, and the other said, “Oh yeah, I made out with 2/3rds of that band.”  Go figure.

Anyway, I really enjoyed them, and their grand syncopation.  It takes a lot to sound that good, rhythmically.  I think they could’ve benefited with some extra instrumentation — it was kind of weird to just listen to a bass line and a lot of drums — but overall, really cool stuff, and, in a way, my introduction into this kind of dance/rhythm indie rock (live, at least).

We quickly ditched the Holocene after Explode into Colors, because part one of my whole reason to go to MFNW was about to happen at Berbati’s — THE LONG WINTERS!  I can’t say how much I love John Roderick and his cryptically-honest lyrics and pop sensibilities.

the long winters

The last time I got to see the Long Winters was when they opened for the Decemberists back in … 2005?  06?  Something like that.  I remember them rocking my face off⁵, and then buying their albums and saying, “Hmm, these don’t rock as much on CD.”  But they quickly grew on me regardless, Mr. Roderick’s lyrics being heart-wrenchingly honest at times, yet still behind a haze of obscurity — like listening in on someone telling stories of past loves: names you don’t understand, places you’ve never been, jokes beyond inside.

So you can imagine my glee at seeing them play again, after three (or four) years.  I had been watching the 13 Songs With John videos on YouTube, so I was aware of A) his long classic rock hair, B) his broken front tooth, and C) his love of Air Supply.  I won’t get into it, but the set was awesome — and the crowd was not nearly as packed as it should’ve been.  I mean, I understand.  John hasn’t released an album since 2006′s “Putting the Days to Bed” (a wonderful album), and he hasn’t really toured that much since then, so I can see why his popularity would wane.  Fortunately, those in the crowd were pretty hardcore fans and knew all the lyrics (even me, having them be sucked from my brain and popped into my mouth without even realizing it), and John and crew seemed to be having a great time.

They played their last song, got a raucous round of applause, and then came back on for their encore.  For some reason Paul and I weren’t expecting it so we started to leave.  The encore was “Nora,” which was really cool, except that it started becoming a jam session.  Now, I love you Long Winters, but I do not like jam sessions, and also we had a VIP party to go to, so we left before you were finished.  My apologies, but it was worth it because we got to the party just in time to see…

THE THERMAAAAALLLLS

Arguably the best band in Portland (who doesn’t play Portland a lot because they’re constantly touring) was the band playing at the VIP after party, which started long before the Long Winters start, but didn’t have the Thermals until we arrived.  We walked in, they started playing, and we rocked out for about an hour or so.  When I say “rocked out” I mean I haven’t danced that much since I graduated college, where I was taking dance classes all day.  The after party was held at BodyVox dance studio, which is definitely the largest dance studio I’ve been in, so that helped.  The Thermals played in front of the giant rehearsal mirrors that lined the far wall of the studio.  We were very close and just to the right of the speakers (saving our ears).  Close enough to see the sweat fleck off of Hutch’s hair.  The Thermals are such a good band because they have fun, but are tight and play each song just the way we want to hear it.  They’re loud, simple, and fucking awesome.  I danced like a maniac, that’s all I’m saying.

It’s really hard to encompass the sheer sense of … home that I felt at MFNW that night.  I finally felt like I was in Portland, and not just a really far borough of Boise.

Tomorrow I promise promise promise that I will write about our final day of Musicfest (yes, final — we didn’t see Modest Mouse on Sunday.  I’ll write about that, too).

Also, mix CD!  Yes.  I have to find good tracks for you.  All in good time.

Paul also had a softball game on Thursday, and I had no way to get to the Wonder to see the Helio Sequence (damn it), so we didn’t end up going out until ten o’clock.  The first band we saw was Cymbals Eat Guitars at the Doug Fir. Cymbals Eat Guitars is a band name that, unfortunately, can be somewhat true depending on how the sound it set up at a venue.

cymbals eat guitars

This show was good for what it was: a pseudo-stoner rock out.  The lead singer (the guy in the middle of that pic) kept either checking the tuning on his guitar or just completely retuning it during breakdowns in the songs.  It was somewhat annoying to me, and I can’t quite place why — something about not being able to play an entire song in one tuning, or, alternately, being so anal about making sure your guitar is in tune that it detracts from the songs.  Either way, they weren’t my cup of tea.  They were good musicians, but not my cup of tea¹.

Also, before the show started I was recognized by a girl, who had seen me at Berbati’s the night previous.  I responded by having a coughing fit and seemingly ignoring her.  I don’t think I’ve ever been that bad with a woman before.  I mean, yeah, I can be shy and standoffish sometimes, but I don’t usually drop conversations like that.  It went something like:

HER. Hey, I saw you at Berbati’s last night!
ME. Yeah!  Man it was Hot. In. There!
HER. Yeah, it was so hot.
ME. [SUDDENLY COUGHS HIS LUNGS OUT]

Awkward pause.  She leaves.

I feel bad.  It was downright disrespectful.  She could’ve become a new friend, a new lover, even!  Plus she was holding TWO beers!  Double fisting, for Chrissakes!

Lady at the Doug Fir, if you ever read this: I’m sorry. I will use you as a reminder to not be a douchebag to people, especially people holding two beers who are also women.

When CEG (ugh, what an awful band acronym) was finished, we proceeded to Dante’s to see Scottish bands the Twilight Sad and Frightened Rabbit.

As if by some karmic sense of balance, Paul met some girl within minutes of us being there, and got her number a few minutes later.  Even he was shocked by this strange turn of events, but I like to think of it as an act of cruel fate, teaching me, again, to not be a douchebag around women with beer.

the twilight sad

I don’t have much to say about the two bands that played.  They were both really good, both similar in music structures (the Scots must have something against resolving chord progressions until the last possible second), and they both faced the same problem with Dante’s sound system.  The Twilight Sad is one of a few bands these days to feature a lead singer who doesn’t play an instrument.  That takes some balls, I think.  I’m in the camp where everyone on stage should play an instrument unless they’re a REALLY GOOD singer, and he wasn’t, but he was Scottish, and his accent dripped through the lyrics, and it was very cool.  So I forgave him for that.  Oh, and their drummer looks  like a little babyfaced cherub.  He’s adorable.  I just wanted to feed him applesauce all night long.

At the very end of their set, though, the left half of their stage, soundwise, went dead, effectively ending their last song.  It cut out, the band couldn’t hear, so they just got up and left.  It, again, was kind of cool and Scottish of them, the lead singer saying “Thanks” and then leaving.  You could tell that they were pissed at it but they also had that air about them that was like, “We’re so much better than that stupid sound system,” which, in the right moment, is really cool and actually pumps up the audience more.

frightened rabbit

Frightened Rabbit was like Twilight Sad, except poppier and generally more pleasant.  They also had Scottish accents but they weren’t as pronounced.  They seemed happy to play in the States and everyone loved them, including me, who had never heard them before.  I’m glad I did!

Unfortunately they also suffered from the sound system problem, except they were halfway through their set.  Unlike Twilight Sad, though, they fixed the problem!  I forget who left to fix it, but one of their band members got a new cable or something while the lead singer played a song on the keyboard, bypassing the faulty monitor as it was being repaired.  By the end of the song it was fixed and everyone was happier than ever!

You know, in music reviews the reviewer is supposed to supplement the band’s sound with words — as in, adjectives replace notes, creating a textual compromise in lieu of being able to see the show itself.  I’m really bad at this.  I tend to give up and just say, “They was good.”  I can’t think of anyone who Frightened Rabbit sounds like.  They sound like a band.  A good, tight poppy² Scottish band.  There will be a song of theirs on the mix CD (which will be available on Friday).  It probably will be that song where he sings “I am working on my backwards walk,” because, come on, that’s a cool lyric to start a song with.

Anyway, I just say that because I’m not sure if words can replace music, and if they can, I don’t think my words can replace the music I’ve listened to.  So I don’t try.  But believe me, this was a Good Night of music, that lasted very long and made me very sleepy at work that Friday.

Tomorrow: THE LONG WINTEERRRRS.  And the VIP after party!  You know you love it.

But this is Musicfest, not the fucking Beatles, and this is a blog, not some goddamn Rolling Stones feature. So let’s get into it.

Wednesday had only one lineup of bands, all playing at Berbati’s Pan.  Berbati’s can be kind of a clusterfuck sometimes: basically, it’s a bar that needs rock bands, or bands that exude a lot of energy; not quiet acts.  I am reminded of last year, when we entered Berbati’s to watch I dunno who, Langhorne Slim, I bet, and Alela Diane was playing something quiet and probably beautiful but you couldn’t tell because everyone was so loud. I remember some guy shouting “SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP,” which, while I agree with that sentiment, sure didn’t do anything to sweeten Alela’s music tea, if you get my drift.

(Quick cast of characters:

Me: Me
Paul: Paul

We know each other primarily from the Decemberists message boards and have quickly become concert buddies, and he teaches me about cool Portland bands and gives me rides in his car and in return, I say funny things. I think that’s how it works.)

While Fences was playing we got some food (Berbati’s also serves some good Greek food).  We hadn’t heard of Fences before so we weren’t thinking about them one way or another, but Paul heard a bit of their set and said they weren’t bad.  But by the time we got to the stage Portland Cello Project was setting up.

Portland Cello Project

PCP is a collection of cellists from Portland, obviously, somewhat spearheaded by Douglas Jenkins. At least, he seems like a bit of a figurehead, or spokesperson, for the group. It doesn’t really matter, though; the project is a collective, embracing the amoebic osmosis of Portland’s communal music scene².  PCP loves the theatre, too, which gains them a few notches in my book: when I was in “Perfection” earlier this year, PCP graciously allowed us to use their music for our preshow, and we sold CDs for every run.  I won’t go into a rant about how awesome this is for art in general, and how all art forms should be collaborating like this (especially since theatre could desperately take a few notes from the raw, exuberant energy of band shows), but it was still very cool, especially because PCP has worked with the Oregon Shakespeare Festival as well.

Unfortunately, Berbati’s is a crapshoot when it comes to the crowd.  The venue is always sweltering, and Wednesday night was no exception.  It was pretty packed for PCP, and when people drink they start talking louder, and when a band starts playing people have to talk louder than the band, because obviously their conversation about the style of shoes they’re wearing is more important than the blood, sweat and tears, the hours of rehearsal, and the intricate musical arrangements and setup these musicians have painstakingly put together for you tonight.

In other words, Portland Cello Project probably did a great job, but it was nearly impossible to hear.  I’m sure if we were closer to the stage it wouldn’t have been as much of a problem, but to be closer to the stage would mean being drenched in sweat, and it was only Wednesday.  Regardless, Paul and I stayed for the whole set, and I enjoyed it, and I was glad that they played their awesome cover of “Toxic,” though it wasn’t as awesome as it is on the CD. I don’t blame PCP for this.

Paul has a friend, Matt, who is in a band whose name I won’t mention because, well, I’m not sure why, really: they’re a great band and deserve recognition.  I guess it’s because I value privacy?  Maybe it’s because I don’t want to name drop.  Yeah, that must be it.  Anyway, he was playing with PCP (on drums) and so afterward we met up with him and he asked if we wanted to go see Laura Veirs at the Woods.  Now, the next act at Berbati’s was Damian Jurado.  I had heard a couple of his songs via Pandora, but the place was so damn hot at this point that we wanted to get into the cool air.  Damian was actually starting his set when we left, and I felt sorry for the guy: the crowd was obnoxiously loud, and it was just him and his guitar.  You couldn’t hear anything from where we stood.

After Damian was Will Sheff of Okkervil River.  Paul and I both love Okkervil River, but we decided that we didn’t want to hear Will Sheff solo.  Plus we love the Woods, and we love Laura Veirs.  So yes, on our first night of MFNW, we ditched MFNW.

You should read this review of the Horse Feathers/Thao Nguyen show for my very strongly worded opinion of the Woods.  In summary: it’s the best new venue in Portland, and possibly the best venue period.  In stark contrast to Berbati’s, the people there were quiet, considerate, and, in a word, lovely.  Just a lovely bunch of people sitting around candles listening to music that can be played a bit quieter than usual.

Laura Veirs

Laura Veirs has a new band, called the Hall of Flames, and that’s just a great band name.  They played a lovely set (again, everything at the Woods is just lovely), including “Saltbreakers,” which is a lovely song.  My only wish would’ve been to hear “To the Country,” but it didn’t matter, it was a good set.  She played a couple of new songs from her new album (which isn’t out yet, I think.  I really should just google it but I won’t) and at the end they brought up a violin player that was in the audience and who plays with Two Beers Veirs, which is Laura Veirs’s awesome happy hour cover band at Lauralthirst, and they played a song with a banjo and it was great.

Now, I refuse to make this blog into a blog about hot girls at these shows, but there was a girl at the Woods who was in a league all her own: as in, she was way out of my league, and arguably out of anyone’s league.  I only mention her because we saw her again on Saturday.

And that’s as good of a cliffhanger as I’ve got.  I mean, nothing interesting happened after Laura Veirs.  I went home and slept, cause I had work in the morning.

Musicfest day two coming tomorrow!  Stay tuned.

Viva Voce @ Doug Fir

I guess the big news is that Paul and I are not going to see Modest Mouse tonight. The reasons are twofold for me: 1, I am le tired. The past four nights have been a bit whirlwind, and for some reason spending four hours (or however long) in one location, the somewhat dismal Crystal Ballroom, is strangely anticlimactic. Friday and Saturday were great nights, and while I enjoy Mimicking Birds and Modest Mouse to a certain extent, I don’t enjoy them enough to go see them tonight. That’s just how it’s going to be.

(Tangent: I’ve found myself, since the huge upswing in Twitter recently, putting only one space after a period rather than two, which is how I’ve been taught since I was taught English. I … I’m not sure how to feel about this. It’s a vital necessity when writing tweets, but this is a blog, a safe haven for proper grammar and syntax¹. A place where the tried and true imprints of the hodge-podge English language are given their proper room to breathe, to exist, to push against the bones of a healthy and well-maintained ribcage. I would go back and edit an extra space in between all of these sentences but … eh, fuck it.)

So I’ll begin writing the MFNW reviews tomorrow. Hm, writing it like that sounds a bit pretentious, as if I’m expecting you all to glean some kind of hip Portland cool from me merely by my typing words on an electronic page. The truth is, I stand out like a sore thumb at these events: tall, awkward, long red hair, unironic eyeglasses², a childlike sense of awe when watching bands, taking utterly shitty photos with my cell phone camera … etc etc. When I walked into Berbati’s to see the Long Winters on Friday night it was like walking into a surprise birthday party, and John Roderick was, figuratively, the icing on the cake. I was rocking out in my own little world, found myself remembering lyrics to songs I hadn’t heard in quite a while, and generally just looking like a dork. Ah well, this is the weight of my silly little life, I guess.

Anyway, I will also be making a playlist of Musicfest bands, including songs that you definitely have never heard of, from bands you probably haven’t heard of, like Monarques, a band that we just missed play at Rontoms, but whose EP, which they gave away for free, is pretty fucking great.

Truth be told, there was only one band the entire weekend that I didn’t enjoy, and I will tell you who that is later.

So yeah, a mix that you can download and enjoy, hopefully as much as I do!

And now, sadly … back to the real world.  At least I have some new music for it.

the thermals @ bodyvox

In a couple of hours I’m going to be seeing Viva Voce at some VIP party thing, but I want to write a little update before I nom nom on some Burgerville and proceed to rock out yet again.

First off, if you aren’t following me on Twitter and want to hear me geek out on a more live basis, I suggest you do so.  I’ve been taking the Worst Photos Ever with my cameraphone¹ and posting them on TwitPic, as well as short bursts of textual energy, such as “THERMALS FUCKKKKK YEAH,” etc.

Anyway, long story short, last night was the best night of MFNW and probably will be the best night MFNW.  All four bands that I saw were awesome, and the sushi that I ate beforehand was awesome, and the nap I took after work but before the shows was awesome. Everything = awesome.

Seeing the Long Winters play again was especially spectacular. John Roderick has long hair and a mustache and a missing front tooth.  He’s great.  The band was as tight and energetic as ever, and the between songs banter was hilarious. For some stupid reason Berbati’s wasn’t as packed as it should be — I blame it on John’s lack of releasing an album or touring for the past year or so. That’s okay though, cause the ones who were there were pretty hardcore fans.

I shouldn’t go into details because I’m going to do that after MFNW. You all should check out the Prids, Explode into Colors², The Long Fucking Winters, and, of course, the Thermals, who played a VIP after party at BodyVox dance studio, with a big long rehearsal mirror behind them, effectively rocking all of our testicles off.  Yes, even the ladies.  The ladies grew testicles and then they fell off, it was so rocking.  We’re all eunuchs now.

Wednesday
There’s only one lineup, and that is — Fences, Portland Cello Project, Damian Juardo, and Will Scheff (of Okkervil River) @ Wonder Ballroom.  I am excited about all of this.

Thursday
Dr. Dog & Helio Sequence @ Wonder
Either Cymbals Eat Guitars @ Doug Fir or Tu Fawning @ Berbati’s.  Probably the latter cause it will make us closer to
The Twilight Sad & Frightened Rabbits @ Dante’s!  TWILIGHT SAD!

Friday
Arctic Monkeys @ Wonder
Something, not sure yet
M64 @ Jimmy Mak’s
Explode into Colors @ Holocene
THE LONG WINTERS! @ Berbati’s.  YAAAAY NEANDERTHAL JOHN RODERICK!

Saturday
Lots of bands playing 30 minute sets at Rontoms
Saturday is kind of iffy.
World’s Greatest Ghosts @ Backspace
Brunettes @ Berbati’s
probly Ava Buffalo @ Berbati’s
Point Juncture, WA @ Mississippi Studios
Church & Finn Riggins @ East End

Sunday
Sunday has only one lineup, with Morning Teleportation, Mimicking Birds, Love as Laughter, and Modest Mouse as headliners. Dunno how into them I’m going to be, but Mimicking Birds is playing and I’ve really come to love the free CD-R I snagged at their MFNW show last year.

All in all, a crazy time, and lots of fun.

One of my first posts upon my arrival in Portland was about the magical festival known as Musicfest Northwest.  It was great because I had just moved here, and I was broke, and my friends Paul and Missy were nice enough to buy me a ticket and escort my broke ass around downtown Portland so I could see a bunch of bands.  It was like being thrust into the Portland scene, and I loved it.

Now, one year later, MFNW is back, and is five days long, and Paul and I are going and we have VIP PASSES. THAT COST US EXTRA BUT WERE TOTALLY WORTH IT.  One of the bands playing at a VIP after party but not during MFNW proper is a little three-piece I like to call THE FUCKING THERMALS².  It’s gonna be a blast. I have money now, I am going to party like some kind of rockstar, I’m going to be really tired at work on Thursday and Friday, and, most importantly, I am going to blog about it for you, my gentle readers.  So consider this week Musicfest Week.  Tomorrow I’ll write an itinerary of events/bands, and after that I probably won’t have time to write anymore, so you’ll have to wait until Saturday for reviews.

Also, I completely redesigned joshuabelville.com, implementing a wordpress blog design instead of my shoddy HTML.  This will make it a lot easier to update, which I desperately need.  Anyway, I say that because I will be writing a quick blog post about my set at Hempstalk this last weekend, so perhaps you should head over there and RSS feed some shit so that you can stay up to date on whatever cool thing it is I’m doing, yes?

RSS feeds are a wonderful things, folks.  They’re like picking out your favorite articles of the newspaper.  Use them. Love them.

PEACE!

Truth is, it’s hot outside so I’m holed up in my room with an air conditioner.  Literally the only cool spot in my room is the air conditioner blowing on my face.  Otherwise it’s still hot.  I know, I know, I’m lucky to even HAVE an air conditioner.  I remember many summers as a kid being very warm in my room, loving and hating the summer at the same time.

Anyway, I’ve been thinking lately about the sheer amount of songs that I have.  How many written, how many recorded, etc.  The truth is, most of them aren’t any good.  I for some reason decided to put out a lot of unfinished, rushed, and generally mediocre music for people to listen to.  This was a mistake on my part.  Of all the songs I’ve recorded, only a few are worth putting on an album.

So what I’m planning is to “retire” my old albums — aka get rid of them.  Start fresh.  Make a new album, record and produce it better (or, you know, go to a recording studio), get some kind of a band together.  The usual.  No more “Kittens & Puppies” (except live, of course).  No more “Here I Found Your Stupid Bike.”

I’m also essentially bowing out of the 50/90 challenge here.  I think part of my problem is that I write too many songs and don’t edit any of them.  Also I don’t get a lot of feedback from people.  I’ve written about this before, but it’s hard to get people’s opinions on your music, unless they give you money.  There’s something humbling about a person actively wanting to purchase the music you create.

While I’m done with 50/90, I will continue to do FAWM, because some of my best songs come from FAWM.

Speaking of good FAWM songs … if you were to ask me what my favorite song of mine was (and believe me, no one has), I would have to say this one.  Despite being recorded with a Casio Rapman (casiocore, baby!), it somehow feels like a complete track; the music, lyrics, the slight tongue-in-cheekness of the whole thing.  It’s like a casio Depeche Mode.  It’s called “Too Young.”

Alright, that should be enough blogging for the next few months.

It also couldn’t have had two more musically different bands.  Horse Feathers is very quiet; Thao Nguyen, not so much.

Horse Feathers

Horse Feathers was first.  Their lead singer, whose name I don’t know but he looks kind of like Ron Howard so let’s call him Ron, was so quiet at times he whispered.  He plucked his guitar quietly too.  In the Crystal Ballroom, that would’ve been murder (and my friend Paul said that there were many times at other shows when he couldn’t hear them).  However, the acoustics in the Woods were PERFECT.  The sound was mixed perfectly.  No one was too loud or too quiet, and there was only one instance of feedback, probably due to the sound guy tinkering around¹

Anyway, their songs were beautiful, their cellist is gorgeous and if she reads this, hi, you’re gorgeous, why were you hanging out with that weird hipster looking dude?  I’m fun.  I’m … tall.  I can make you laugh.  Etc etc.  The guy in the glasses to the right in the picture can play the saw, which is awesome.  Just really great stuff all around.

Thao with the Get Down Stay Down

Next up was Thao Nguyen, a tiny timid girl who really knows how to get down.  Again, their set sounded GREAT.  I hadn’t really listened to Thao prior to this show; I’d heard a couple of songs, but didn’t get into them that much.  Now I feel bad.  After the first song she shyly asked us all to stand up (we had been sitting for Horse Feathers — not rudely, of course, but because it was mellower).  After a couple of songs everyone was dancing as much as hipsters could dance².

They also had the wonderful Portland Cello Project play a couple of songs with them.  I guess they’re all going on tour together, which is great.  Oh!  And I learned that Andrew Bird, who I saw on the bus a couple of days following his show at Edgefield, was in town recording tracks for Thao’s new album!  Pretty awesome.

So that was that.  I have some new t-shirts, and I have a new cool place to see music.  Everything’s doing juuuuust fine.

You know, the great thing about the Thermals instore¹ was that it wasn’t over a hundred degrees outside.  It was still hot, but it wasn’t Ridiculous.  Were they scheduled to play a show today, or yesterday, with 100+ degree temperatures, I think they would’ve called it off, because we would’ve all gotten heat exhaustion from rocking out so hard.

… That was a really long-winded way to say that the Thermals kicked ass at Jackpot.  Sorry about that.  Sometimes writers like to be a little too wordy.

I don’t really have much to say, other than they were tight, they were awesome, and they played that one Nirvana song that I can never remember the name of (“and if you something something, i will make you happy” or however those lyrics go) AND “Basketcase,” which was cool.  It was hot, we were all sweating, and some dudes in the front were headbanging to everything.  Overall, it was a lovely reminder of how great that band is, and now I can say that they are great live.

Here’s a couple of photos I took with the ol’ cell phone camera:

Hutch Harris

Hutch on a thing! Yeah! Punk!

The whole band. Hutch, some guy who is their drummer, and Kathy