So let’s start with good stuff:
They were not Arctic Monkeys. Two months earlier, Arctic Monkeys, another hip indie band I saw at the Club, had been a major disappointment. They thrashed where they should have driven, they drove where they should have strummed – it was not good. I also hated the fact that they said nothing to the audience – as if Americans wouldn’t be able to understand ‘British’ anyway, so why bother? Fortunately, Spoon knew how and when to power their instruments and at least made an attempt to acknowledge the crowd.
I was also glad I was able to familiarize myself with their albums beforehand. I’m surprised I was able to do this because I only started really listening to them two days before the show. I’d booked the tickets months earlier based on Mike Erickson and Chris Prickett’s high praise, but I didn’t remember the actual show until the last minute. Luckily I was able to cram four albums into that short time: Ga Ga Ga Ga, Gimme Fiction, Kill the Moonlight, and Transference. And I was able to come out with four songs that I genuinely liked: “Got Nuffin,” “You Gut Yr. Cherry Bomb,” “The Two Sides of Monsieur Valentine,” and “The Underdog.”
The overall problem with the band and the show, though, was that I could never go much beyond “like.” “Got Nuffin” had a nice Foo Fighters vibe, “Cherry Bomb” had a catchy chorus, “Monsieur Valentine” was an interesting character study, and “The Underdog” would boost the spirit of anyone listening to it, but in the end, there was nothing to really love. Spoon will remain on my iPod and serve as pleasant background music during a long grading session, but the chance of going to another Spoon concert….not likely.
Grade:C+
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Saturday, April 10, 2010
61 –- Alkaline Trio –- Friday, March 12, 2010 –- The Nokia Theatre –- NYC
The defining moment of the show was when they did not play “Radio.” Although some might consider it arrogant, even disrespectful not to play your most popular song, the decision actually worked for me. It added an element of surprise, it created anticipation for the next concert where there could now be actual suspense over whether they’d play it, and it stuck it to casual fans who only came to listen to hits. It felt like a genuine ‘punk’ move.
Another pleasant surprise was the fact that they played so many other old songs. I feared they would waste half the show slogging through This Addiction, their depressingly tame latest album. Fortunately, they only played the vivid title song and “Lead Poisoning,” a song that was accompanied by their (first ever?) trumpet solo. (Opening band Cursive provided the trumpet.) Some of the solid old tracks they revisited included “Sadie,” “97,” “Blue Carolina,” “Crawl,” “Blue in the Face,” and “Mr. Chainsaw,” which had been requested by every previous Trio audience. It was also satisfying to see them come back with three songs I’d been clamoring for the past three shows: “Mercy Me,” “Armageddon,” and “We’ve Had Enough.”
The lead singer on almost all of these songs was Dan Andriano, a reversal from the usual dominance of Matt Skiba. Andriano has a deeper, slower voice than Skiba, which often lent the songs greater gravitas. Next show, I’ll be ready to return to Skiba, to power through “Private Eye,” “Stupid Kid,” “This Could Be Love,” and a full speed “Armageddon,” but on this night, Andriano was a nice change of pace. He didn’t force mosh pits when none were needed, he didn’t attempt watered-down Rise Against, he just let hardcore fans (like me) sway and mouth the words.
Grade:A-
Another pleasant surprise was the fact that they played so many other old songs. I feared they would waste half the show slogging through This Addiction, their depressingly tame latest album. Fortunately, they only played the vivid title song and “Lead Poisoning,” a song that was accompanied by their (first ever?) trumpet solo. (Opening band Cursive provided the trumpet.) Some of the solid old tracks they revisited included “Sadie,” “97,” “Blue Carolina,” “Crawl,” “Blue in the Face,” and “Mr. Chainsaw,” which had been requested by every previous Trio audience. It was also satisfying to see them come back with three songs I’d been clamoring for the past three shows: “Mercy Me,” “Armageddon,” and “We’ve Had Enough.”
The lead singer on almost all of these songs was Dan Andriano, a reversal from the usual dominance of Matt Skiba. Andriano has a deeper, slower voice than Skiba, which often lent the songs greater gravitas. Next show, I’ll be ready to return to Skiba, to power through “Private Eye,” “Stupid Kid,” “This Could Be Love,” and a full speed “Armageddon,” but on this night, Andriano was a nice change of pace. He didn’t force mosh pits when none were needed, he didn’t attempt watered-down Rise Against, he just let hardcore fans (like me) sway and mouth the words.
Grade:A-
60 –- Muse –- Monday, March 1, 2010 –- The Patriot Center –- Fairfax, VA
Attending the concert felt like participating in an arena-size music video. Select lyrics flashed in front of you, strobe lights flashed behind you, and eerie images gleamed all across the stage. Band members rising, falling, and spinning on giant conveyor belts added to the fun. And of course there were the exploding spheres lobbed into the crowd – always a nice Muse touch.
The fact that I had seen Muse before (two years earlier at Madison Square Garden) could have been a disadvantage, but it was balanced by the fact that they were not Bob Dylan. The Dylan debacle was the last show I’d seen at the Patriot Center, so this one was a huge improvement. This audience was thrilled, not horrified; this band was lucid, not abusive.
The only thing that held the concert back from a full “A” was it seemed a little shallow. You left stimulated, but not overcome with emotion. Overall, though, in terms of pure style points, Muse earned their bow…
Grade:A-
The fact that I had seen Muse before (two years earlier at Madison Square Garden) could have been a disadvantage, but it was balanced by the fact that they were not Bob Dylan. The Dylan debacle was the last show I’d seen at the Patriot Center, so this one was a huge improvement. This audience was thrilled, not horrified; this band was lucid, not abusive.
The only thing that held the concert back from a full “A” was it seemed a little shallow. You left stimulated, but not overcome with emotion. Overall, though, in terms of pure style points, Muse earned their bow…
Grade:A-
Saturday, January 23, 2010
59 – Arctic Monkeys – Tuesday, December 8, 2009 – 9:30 Club – DC
On CD, Arctic Monkeys are catchy, twisty, fizzy, and sly. As with Franz Ferdinand, every time you listen to these hip Brits, you’re in for a good time. Or so I thought…
It turns out, though, that in concert, Arctic Monkeys are loud, scratchy, repetitive, and unpleasant. And they never say a word to the audience. They mumble “thank you” at their mic stands a few times, but this hardly feels like genuine appreciation.
Frustrating as the concert was, it had not been a Bob-Dylan-level failure. The first thing that salvaged it was that I had never connected as deeply with Arctic Monkeys as I had with Bob Dylan. I had less to lose. The band also did not seem hostile towards the audience; they just seemed inordinately focused on the songs. The final, significant difference was that Monkeys frontman Alex Turner did not sound like a serial killer. That’s always a plus. ;)
Grade: D+
If you’ve never heard Arctic Monkeys before, check out “A Certain Romance.” The video appears below, as does my reaction from three years ago, when I first encountered on Magic’s Pledge Survey mixed CD. Here’s what I heard and wrote back then:
You have to divide this song into two parts: the first minute and a half, and the last four minutes. The good news: both parts are awesome. The first part is all instrumental: an emphatic drum beat, a more restrained guitar solo -- it totally draws you into the song. The second part is a clever commentary on people's tendency to latch onto and fight for whatever they think is the "authentic" musical genre. They're so busy worrying about their "classic Reeboks, knackered Converse, or tracky bottoms tucked in socks" that they miss the romance of what they're listening to. Music should be about discovering new and exciting sounds. In their world, though, "there's only music so that there's new ringtones." (Great line!)
The final, intriguing thing about "A.C.R." is its last verse. Lead singer Alex Turner (thanks, Wikipedia…) could've made the song a diatribe against people who conform, but he chooses not to. People who are likely to offer diatribes are those who demand "broken bones" for their new ringtones, who scrap for their bands with "pool cues in their hands." Turner, though, resists such violence and recognizes that, in the end, if those type of people are your friends, you've gotta forgive them: "Over there, there's friends of mine. What can I say, I've known them for a long, long time / And yeah, they may overstep the line / But I cannot get angry in the same way. Not in the same way." (Genuinely insightful!)
It turns out, though, that in concert, Arctic Monkeys are loud, scratchy, repetitive, and unpleasant. And they never say a word to the audience. They mumble “thank you” at their mic stands a few times, but this hardly feels like genuine appreciation.
Frustrating as the concert was, it had not been a Bob-Dylan-level failure. The first thing that salvaged it was that I had never connected as deeply with Arctic Monkeys as I had with Bob Dylan. I had less to lose. The band also did not seem hostile towards the audience; they just seemed inordinately focused on the songs. The final, significant difference was that Monkeys frontman Alex Turner did not sound like a serial killer. That’s always a plus. ;)
Grade: D+
If you’ve never heard Arctic Monkeys before, check out “A Certain Romance.” The video appears below, as does my reaction from three years ago, when I first encountered on Magic’s Pledge Survey mixed CD. Here’s what I heard and wrote back then:
You have to divide this song into two parts: the first minute and a half, and the last four minutes. The good news: both parts are awesome. The first part is all instrumental: an emphatic drum beat, a more restrained guitar solo -- it totally draws you into the song. The second part is a clever commentary on people's tendency to latch onto and fight for whatever they think is the "authentic" musical genre. They're so busy worrying about their "classic Reeboks, knackered Converse, or tracky bottoms tucked in socks" that they miss the romance of what they're listening to. Music should be about discovering new and exciting sounds. In their world, though, "there's only music so that there's new ringtones." (Great line!)
The final, intriguing thing about "A.C.R." is its last verse. Lead singer Alex Turner (thanks, Wikipedia…) could've made the song a diatribe against people who conform, but he chooses not to. People who are likely to offer diatribes are those who demand "broken bones" for their new ringtones, who scrap for their bands with "pool cues in their hands." Turner, though, resists such violence and recognizes that, in the end, if those type of people are your friends, you've gotta forgive them: "Over there, there's friends of mine. What can I say, I've known them for a long, long time / And yeah, they may overstep the line / But I cannot get angry in the same way. Not in the same way." (Genuinely insightful!)
58 – Rise Against – Friday, December 4, 2009 – The National – Richmond, VA
I was about to leave. The first few songs were so upsetting, so harmful to my opinion of Rise Against, that I thought it would be better to get in my car, drive back to Williamsburg, and enjoy the rest of a William and Mary Friday night. A number of things pushed me to this point. First, The National, the concert hall, refused to turn off all the lights. How can you have a dark rock show in a bright ballroom? Can music ever be sinister beneath a chandelier?
Not content to merely ruin the visual, the concert hall also provided the worst possible acoustics. The beat is supposed to pound, the vocals are supposed to thrash, and the ground is supposed to shake. At no point should you feel like you stumbled in on a mini-mall Battle of the Bands.
Undoubtedly The National’s most toxic element, though, was their ban on moshing. You book a hardcore band, your website claims that you “showcase the nation’s best punk groups,” and you ban moshing?! That’s like booking Jack Johnson and banning golf claps – or booking The Jonas Brothers and banning all high-pitched shrieks. This no-moshing pronouncement was made more ridiculous by the fact that there had been more than an hour of moshing at the National concert I had been to the previous year. There had not been a ban because there was no need for one. It was high energy, but under control.
After listening to seven songs in this environment, I needed to get out. I preferred to leave and declare the show a failure than stay and have my opinion poisoned further.
And yet…I stayed for “Give It All.” In that moment, in that song, everything changed. During the first few relatively slow seconds of the song, audience members glanced at one another. There seemed to be this recognition that, a few notes later, if they were being true to the song and the band, all hell should break loose. No one would do anything intentionally harmful, of course, but they would need to amp up the energy. It started with a few people jumping. A couple others bounced back and forth. Then there were a few brief thrusts. Before you knew it, by the time they hit the chorus, multiple mosh pits had sprung up throughout the crowd! All this occurred as the band sang these words: “For far too long, these voices muffled by distances / It’s time to come to our senses / And from the dark we give it all / This is the reason why I sing / So give it all.” This was not some Good Charlotte single; this was not some Simple Plan ballad. This was a punk anthem made REAL – an incredible flash-bulb memory.
The crowd remained united the rest of the concert. The Man’s mindless rule had been struck down, and all had become an “Audience of One.” Sound and lighting issues could not stop anyone from pouring his or her soul into “Paper Wings,” “Prayer of the Refugee,” “Chamber the Cartridge,” “Ready to Fall,” and ten other songs.
The final song I’ll mention is “Savior.” Halfway through the song, I got knocked down. It was inadvertent and I wasn’t hurt, but I did fall to the floor. Seconds after I fell, this hulking 6’5’’ football player, who had been among the most active on the floor, stopped moshing, reached down, and asked, “Are you ok?” It was moving. It did not occur to me until later that it was also freaky: what are the odds that that would occur during a song called “Savior”?!
The culmination of the bizarre, unforgettable night occurred right after “Savior,” when frontman Tim McIllrath commended the crowd for “looking out for each together, for keeping your kick-a** circle pits safe.” Had he actually seen me? Had he seen what the guy had done?! Who knows. All I know is…I’m glad I stayed.
Grade: A+
Not content to merely ruin the visual, the concert hall also provided the worst possible acoustics. The beat is supposed to pound, the vocals are supposed to thrash, and the ground is supposed to shake. At no point should you feel like you stumbled in on a mini-mall Battle of the Bands.
Undoubtedly The National’s most toxic element, though, was their ban on moshing. You book a hardcore band, your website claims that you “showcase the nation’s best punk groups,” and you ban moshing?! That’s like booking Jack Johnson and banning golf claps – or booking The Jonas Brothers and banning all high-pitched shrieks. This no-moshing pronouncement was made more ridiculous by the fact that there had been more than an hour of moshing at the National concert I had been to the previous year. There had not been a ban because there was no need for one. It was high energy, but under control.
After listening to seven songs in this environment, I needed to get out. I preferred to leave and declare the show a failure than stay and have my opinion poisoned further.
And yet…I stayed for “Give It All.” In that moment, in that song, everything changed. During the first few relatively slow seconds of the song, audience members glanced at one another. There seemed to be this recognition that, a few notes later, if they were being true to the song and the band, all hell should break loose. No one would do anything intentionally harmful, of course, but they would need to amp up the energy. It started with a few people jumping. A couple others bounced back and forth. Then there were a few brief thrusts. Before you knew it, by the time they hit the chorus, multiple mosh pits had sprung up throughout the crowd! All this occurred as the band sang these words: “For far too long, these voices muffled by distances / It’s time to come to our senses / And from the dark we give it all / This is the reason why I sing / So give it all.” This was not some Good Charlotte single; this was not some Simple Plan ballad. This was a punk anthem made REAL – an incredible flash-bulb memory.
The crowd remained united the rest of the concert. The Man’s mindless rule had been struck down, and all had become an “Audience of One.” Sound and lighting issues could not stop anyone from pouring his or her soul into “Paper Wings,” “Prayer of the Refugee,” “Chamber the Cartridge,” “Ready to Fall,” and ten other songs.
The final song I’ll mention is “Savior.” Halfway through the song, I got knocked down. It was inadvertent and I wasn’t hurt, but I did fall to the floor. Seconds after I fell, this hulking 6’5’’ football player, who had been among the most active on the floor, stopped moshing, reached down, and asked, “Are you ok?” It was moving. It did not occur to me until later that it was also freaky: what are the odds that that would occur during a song called “Savior”?!
The culmination of the bizarre, unforgettable night occurred right after “Savior,” when frontman Tim McIllrath commended the crowd for “looking out for each together, for keeping your kick-a** circle pits safe.” Had he actually seen me? Had he seen what the guy had done?! Who knows. All I know is…I’m glad I stayed.
Grade: A+
57 – Rock and Cole – Thursday, December 3, 2009 – FMS – F., VA
There are many perks to being a teacher: working with hilarious students/colleagues, creating meaningful lessons, seeing students improve, etc.
One specific perk I get every November is participating in Rock and Cole. In the Rock and Cole project, students create their own mixed CD, matching five characters from the novel Touching Spirit Bear to five songs. (The project gets its name from Spirit Bear’s central character, Cole Matthews.) In the days leading up to the in-class concert, students scour book passages and song lyrics to find things that connect. On concert day, each student analyzes another student’s CD, trying to match the characters, songs, traits, and quotes. It’s also a pretty entertaining day, considering the desks are filled with 30-plus CD players, boom boxes, and headphones, and several students rock out as they work.
The best part for me is that I get to listen to all the CDs. New discoveries this year were Three Days Grace’ “Animal I’ve Become,” Shinedown’s “Second Chance,” and Dr. Seuss’ “You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch.” (Somehow I’d never heard the full Seuss song!) Amusing episodes this year included digging out CD batteries that had been pinned in by bread crumbs and watching five CD players fail one poor child. Less amusing episodes included two students trying to deafen me with all-static CDs and hearing Owl City’s “Fireflies” and Daniel Powter’s “Have a Bad Day” twelve times on a continuous loop. So…much…sugar.
In the end, Rock and Cole may not be perfect, but it sure beats grading 125 essays!
Grade: A-
One specific perk I get every November is participating in Rock and Cole. In the Rock and Cole project, students create their own mixed CD, matching five characters from the novel Touching Spirit Bear to five songs. (The project gets its name from Spirit Bear’s central character, Cole Matthews.) In the days leading up to the in-class concert, students scour book passages and song lyrics to find things that connect. On concert day, each student analyzes another student’s CD, trying to match the characters, songs, traits, and quotes. It’s also a pretty entertaining day, considering the desks are filled with 30-plus CD players, boom boxes, and headphones, and several students rock out as they work.
The best part for me is that I get to listen to all the CDs. New discoveries this year were Three Days Grace’ “Animal I’ve Become,” Shinedown’s “Second Chance,” and Dr. Seuss’ “You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch.” (Somehow I’d never heard the full Seuss song!) Amusing episodes this year included digging out CD batteries that had been pinned in by bread crumbs and watching five CD players fail one poor child. Less amusing episodes included two students trying to deafen me with all-static CDs and hearing Owl City’s “Fireflies” and Daniel Powter’s “Have a Bad Day” twelve times on a continuous loop. So…much…sugar.
In the end, Rock and Cole may not be perfect, but it sure beats grading 125 essays!
Grade: A-
The Pixies – Monday, November 30, 2009 – DAR Constitution Hall -- DC /Weezer – Wednesday, December 9, 2009 – The Patriot Center – Fairfax, VA
I was disappointed to miss the Pixies show. They seemed primed to follow the Smashing Pumpkins model. They would be another scary band I didn’t particularly like who would became scary good live. Wish I’d been able to find out if that actually happened…
I was even more disappointed to miss the Weezer show. This was the first time I had ever gotten floor tickets for an arena show. I could have been feet from “Getchoo”’s thrashing guitars; I could have stood across from Rivers during “Across the Sea.” (No, Weezer fans, I would not like to become an 18-year-old girl from a small city in Japan – just go with the phrasing. ;))
Sadly, I was not able to stand anywhere in the arena because the tour bush crashed into an ice patch two days before the concert, canceling the rest of the tour. Tear.
Fortunately, no one was seriously hurt, though, and they plan on rescheduling in the new year. Once they come up with an exact date, count me in!
I was even more disappointed to miss the Weezer show. This was the first time I had ever gotten floor tickets for an arena show. I could have been feet from “Getchoo”’s thrashing guitars; I could have stood across from Rivers during “Across the Sea.” (No, Weezer fans, I would not like to become an 18-year-old girl from a small city in Japan – just go with the phrasing. ;))
Sadly, I was not able to stand anywhere in the arena because the tour bush crashed into an ice patch two days before the concert, canceling the rest of the tour. Tear.
Fortunately, no one was seriously hurt, though, and they plan on rescheduling in the new year. Once they come up with an exact date, count me in!
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