A-Dog Benefit: Vol.1

Unfortunately this info came along a little too late to write it up in the paper, but tonight Red Square is hosting a benefit for DJ A-Dog. For those who haven't been following along, A-Dog's apartment and virtually all of his worldly possessions were destroyed in a fire earlier this month. Community reaction has been swift and there are a number of benefit shows lined up to support both DJ A-Dog and Tick Tick DJ Mike Device, who also lived in the building. But tonight is the first and it promises to be a good one.

The evening will mark a return of sorts to Tha VT Union's roots as they perform with noted funk maestro Dave Grippo. Back in the day, Grippo, Fattie B, DJ A-Dog and several members of what would eventually become Tha VT Union held down a residency at the Square every Monday night. It was possibly the hottest night of the week, both for the bar and, arguably, Burlington in general. For those who remember it, tonight will likely be a nostalgic stroll down memory lane. Hope to see you there.

New Band Alert!

I'm afraid the rumors are true. Denim-fueled speed-western truckstop rockers Chuch are no more. I, for one, am pretty bummed about it. The band was something of a Burlington oddity in that they virtually sidestepped the dues-paying phase most local bands are required to endure before they hit the road and seek their fortunes outside of the bubble that is the VT music scene.

From the outset, Chuch decided they weren't content to languish in Burlington vying for Tuesday night slots at Nectar's, and spent the majority of their time touring, ultimately building a solid fanbase across the country. You could argue that they were more popular outside the state than they were in their hometown.

Though I'm certainly going to miss Chuch, I'm happy to report that a new band has emerged, rising like a Phoenix from the ashes of cigarettes and stale beer that often littered the band's van. Ahhhh, memories.

Calling themselves Jesus Vanacho, the band is comprised of ex-Chuch rhythm section Justin and Noah Crowther — on drums and bass, respectively — Lightning Ridge axeman Ethan Rhea and Turkey Bouillon Mafia's Adam King on keys. The quartet debuts this Friday at Nectar's and I certainly plan to be in attendance. In the meantime, check out this track, entitled "Jetway" from their recently recorded demo.

Deli Sandwich

Greetings, Solid State!

There's a new deli in Burlington and I ain't talkin' about Sadie Katz — which, if you haven't been, totally rocks. One word: latkes. One more: mmmm . . . man, I'm hungry.

The deli I'm referring to is of the online variety and aims to serve up healthy servings of local music coverage. Originally based in NYC, The Deli Magazine has branches in San Francisco, Los Angeles, Nashville and now, curiously, the 802. If the decision by a publication that historically focuses on major music markets to set up shop in a Lilliputian city such as Burlington seems odd to you, you're not alone. I'm not quite sure I get it either. But The Deli is here, perhaps to stay. I, for one, say "welcome to Burlington."

As the Music Editor for a competing publication, the knee-jerk reaction — and perhaps the reaction you folks might expect from me — would be to slam the website and dismiss it. But I prefer to take an alternate view of the new e-rag.

One of the enduring lessons I took from working for Magic Hat is that competition is not only healthy, but vital to the success and survival of almost any endeavor. MH founder Alan Newman is often asked if he views the high volume of competing VT and regional microbreweries as a threat. His answer is always the same: no. Newman's philosophy is that having more options creates more overall interest in craft brewing and, ultimately, more interest in Magic Hat. Given the fact that MH just bought Seattle's Pyramid Brewing Co. to become the third largest craft brewery in the country, he might have been on to something.

The Vermont music scene is larger and more diverse than it's ever been and coverage is essentially limited to three outlets: Seven Days, State Of Mind and The Burlington Free Press — I certainly don't mean to overlook the notable contributions of our state's various music blogs. But for the purposes of this conversation, I'm sticking with the professional media.

With so much music being created and so few outlets to report it, inevitably and regrettably, some stuff falls though the cracks. To be honest, there is probably room for another music publication in Vermont. And if The Deli does its job well, it can help kindle more interest in Vermont music, which in turn kindles more interest in Vermont music coverage.

The late Nineties Burlington alt-rock scene is regarded by many to be the "heyday" of Vermont music. In many respects, it probably was — though I firmly believe we're on the brink of another. A big reason that era was so incredible and is remembered so fondly — aside from the unbelievable wealth of great bands — is that there were more outlets writing about Vermont music. To name a few, Seven Days, the BFP's "Scene & Heard" and the late, great Good Citizen Zine provided excellent coverage of the VT scene and were a key factor in sparking widespread interest. 

As for The Deli itself, it's not bad. Perhaps a little jam-centric for my tastes — and the fact that Deli editor Adena Harford's boyfriend's band Silent Mind is prominently featured and hyperbolically reviewed seems a little suspect. But today is merely their soft launch and there's at least a skeleton for expanded coverage. I'll be curious to see how they do.

In the end, the focus for any local music publication should be just that, local music. Competition is great if it drives us to step up our game. Variety is even better. The more voices we have espousing the virtues of our homegrown music, the more ears the message will reach. Hopefully, that translates to more eyes perusing the pages of publications like Seven Days and, ultimately, more bodies in nightclubs to see local bands. A guy can hope, right?

Survey Says!

I stopped by the Radiator last night and was a guest on Jim Lockridge's show Rocket Shop. Whenever I swing by the station, I find myself wishing I had more time to host my own show. It's always a blast to go on air and talk about new music. But for now I guess I'll have to be content lending a hand when I can. Ideally, I'd like to get a Seven Days show going and rotate DJing duties amongst staff and interns. We shall see . . .

Jim was kind enough to let me have the first half hour to play some of the music we've recently reviewed in the paper. I played tracks from new discs by The Plastic Billionaires, Shawn Grady, Rubblebucket Orchestra, Red Hot Juba and a new favorite, Forrest Mulerath. UVM roots duo The Goshen Ramblers stopped by for a live set as well. Good times.

While I was there, Jim mentioned a new survey Big Heavy World is conducting in partnership with the Lake Champlain Regional Chamber of Commerce. The idea is to get input from as many sources connected to the VT music scene (musicians, venue owners, fans, etc.) as possible to help BHW find new ways of supporting and promoting VT music. As always, a noble endeavor from Jim and the BHW crew. You can take the survey here. It only takes a minute or two.

And before I forget, Inner Fire District is playing tonight at the North End Studio on the corner of Archibald and N. Winooski Ave. This will be the last IFD show for several months as accordionist extrordinaire David Symons is headed to Poland and exiled on Church St. sax player Zoe Christianson is headed to Latvia.  The show starts at 9 p.m. and, according to Symons is "$5 for the proletariat and the destitute" and "$10 for everyone else."

Par-Tay for the Bay-Bays!

Do any of our readers have bay-bays? I do not, but I do still manage to keep my finger on the pulse of local and national kids' music, and coming right up is an event worth mentioning.

It has been ten years since local act Robert, Gigi, and Carol released their first CD, "Like the Birdies Sing". While those of you not strapped with kiddies might have never heard of the trio, you likely do know Robert Resnik, if not for his VPR show, "All the Traditions," then at the very least for his CD reviews in Seven Days.

While the trio now performs as a duo, minus Carol, the three will be reuniting for their anniversary, May 24 at Fletcher Free Library. The show runs from 2-4 pm and is free, but money from CD sales will benefit special programs for children and adults.

I started attending weekly Robert and Gigi shows at the library shortly after I became a nanny. And continued to attend for over a year. So I speak from experience when I say that those shows are like a local mommy/nanny/baby social hour, and in incredibly high demand.

No, seriously.

In order to be allowed into the shows, we would have to remember to call the library a full month in advance to register for the next month. If we were too late in calling and the list was filled, we would have to arrive early each week and wait in line, at the slim chance of taking the place of a no-show. And when I say 'wait in line' I really mean it. That staircase in the children's section of the Fletcher Free was packed with babies from all over the block.

To the under five crowd, Robert and Gigi are total rock stars.

So if you have a baby, and you have a chance, you should definitely check out this show. For more information (or perhaps to question about capacity? and time to arrive?) you can call 865-7216. Or, if you'd like to do your part to help the cause and order a copy of the CD, email Robert at rresnik@vpr.net.

No New Deal. For Real? How Bizarre . . .

Happy Friday, Solid State!

I just got wind of some pretty exciting Jazz Fest news. And guess what? It has nothing to do with jazz!

The Magic Hat Block Party on Church Street has become something of a yearly staple and is usually my favorite night of the festival. In fact, my coverage of last year's installment prompted the first round of bizarre hate mail directed at yours truly. Gosh, it seems like only yesterday . . .

Anyway, this year the ever-expanding brew-meisters are mixing things up a bit, veering from the typical jam/funk schmaltz that usually dominates the Block Party lineup and going strictly localvore. Frankly, I rallied for this for years when I was an MH employee. But my pleas always seemed to fall on deaf ears. I also lobbied to bring back Humble Patience, Heart of Darkness and Blind Faith . . . still waiting on those, I'm afraid.

Anyway, Magic Hat has certainly carved out a niche for itself in the jam band scene and has a noticeable presence at summer wiggle-fests like Gathering of the Vibes, FloydFest and Bonnaroo. So, in some ways, it was only natural that their local events almost always featured non-local hyphenated-hybrid acts — or, fucking jam bands. Boring, but natural.

With performances by Swale and Mathematicians at last year's Block Party, MH dipped its toes in the local/regional indie-rock water — a big step forward following The Great Jazz Guys Jazz Fest Debacle a few years back. Apparently, it took. This year the newly re-named "Magic Hat Bizarre" will exclusively feature local acts, representing a commendable cross-section of Vermont music.

Unfortunately, I can't divulge the entire lineup at present. But I have been given the green light to leak some highlights. Here they are:

Aussie cock-rockers Led LO/CO will headline the top block stage. Apparently they've once again been granted a brief release from prison. Why they always choose to spend their free time in VT remains a mystery.

Other stages will feature S'nalbans' finest, Farm, who are still pounding out new tracks in the Cave of Legends for a new disc. Also, um, on tap are The Aztext — I'm wagering this marks the first hip-hop performance in Block Party, or perhaps even Jazz Fest history — and a new project from Matt Hayes, the pedal steel player from rumored-to-be-defunct truck-stop rockers Chuch.

There's plenty more in the works and as info becomes available, I'll be sure to let you know.

Have a great weekend!

Going Nude

I'm sure most of you remember when Dan mentioned the contest for the coolest Radiohead "Nude" remix. It definitely got people sparring, all of which you can re-live right here.

Well, one of our own took to the challenge.

This morning I received an email from Gregory Douglass, informing his fans that they can now visit his web page to vote for his remix of the song from Radiohead's latest album, "In Rainbows."

Says Gregory, "I figured there would be lots of instrumental remixes so I took a more classic, Gregory
Douglass-esque vocal harmony approach with my remix, please check it out..."

You can listen to what he did, and vote, should you feel inclined, right here.

Burlington Music: The TV Series

You folks will actually read a bit more about this in tomorrow's Soundbites column — at least I hope you will. But since it's a multimedia dealie, I figured it might be appropriate for this little blog o' mine as well. Consider it an interactive Soundbites sneak peek!

Anyway, Rebecca Kopycinkski, aka Nuda Veritas, just released the first episode of her brand spankin' new VCAM TV show "Burly Song: Burlington's Musical Zeitgeist." The half-hour long program premieres on Channel 15 in its regular Tuesday slot this evening at 11 p.m. and will run again this Saturday at 7 p.m. However, if 11 o'clock is a little late for you — I'm not here to judge — or if you don't typically find yourself near a TV on a Saturday night — if you do, you're a total loser . . . just kidding. I'm really not here to judge — you can view Episode 1 right here.

In this installment, Ms. Kopycinski hosts the estimable Paddy Reagan for a half-hour of conversation and performance. The show has a definite "cable access" feel, but I dig it. Not like "Wayne's World" cable access, mind you. More like a VCAM version of Charlie Rose . . . but with music . . . and a female host . . . and spray painted records hanging on strings in the background. OK, maybe it's not like Charlie Rose at all.

In any event, the interview portion of the show is pretty informative, especially when Paddy describes his band Cannon Fodder, whom I've been wanting to write about for while now. And Reagan's performance is decent too — though TV is a notoriously difficult outlet for live music.

But my favorite segment — and according to her blog, Rebecca's as well — has got to be the "Cigarette Break" bit at the the end. This time around, Kopycinski  approaches people outside a Farm show at The Monkey House in March — note the effin' snow! — and asks them questions like "What band would you most like to see come to Burlington?" and "If you could play any instrument in any Burlington band, what/who would it be?" Farm multi-instrumentalist Ben Maddox's reply of "like, just playin' one instrument?" is priceless. Show-off.

Be sure to tune in tonight. And if you're interested in performing or helping out with production, you can e-mail Rebecca here.

Cooley-O, Guvna!

Pop quiz, hot-shots:

Q: What do you get when you cross Heloise & The Savoir Faire, a quintessentially bizarre British quiz show and Frodo Baggins with music written by our own Jason Cooley?

A: This.

For some reason I'm reminded of "Pig in a Poke" from National Lampoon's European Vacation. The hills are indeed alive with the sound of Griswold . . . and sweet, sweet Heloise.

What to Do, What To Do . . .

Happy Friday, Solid State!

According to the weather geek, Tom Messner, it's shaping up be a cold, rainy weekend. All the better, then, to spend it in the cozy depths of our various nightclubs and cafes, sampling wealth of options that make up our beloved little scene.

Unfortunately,I will likely not be able to partake in this weekend's festivities as I will spend the bulk of my "free time" becoming intimately familiar with this new web calendar doohicky Seven Days is getting set to launch. When it's ready, it's gonna be super sweet. You're gonna love it, I swear. Actually getting it ready, however, is proving to be one beastly, laborious task. I won't bore you with the details, but I'd like to ask that should any of you see me precariously perched on the ledge of one of Burlington's taller buildings, you make an attempt to talk me down. Or give me a push, depending.

But enough about my problems. Here's a list of the stuff I'd be doing if I weren't me.

Friday
The Smittens and Let's Whisper @ The Skinny Pancake
The Smittens rock. The Skinny Pancake rocks. Max is back from Leeds. Colin is playing twice. To borrow a phrase, "Yow!"

In Memory of Pluto CD Release @ The Monkey House
I know, I know. The lukewarm review of their new EP in this week's paper isn't a huge selling point. However, the review of their show at Radio Bean a few weeks back should be. These guys are a great live band. Next time around, they should spend the money and hire a producer. Calling Ryan Power . . .

Starline Rhythm Boys @ Red Square
Like I need a reason . . .

Melonheadz @ Franny O's
I have no idea who these guys are — Evan Dando tribute, perhaps? But it's Freakin' Friday at Franny O's! In all seriousness, I fucking love that bar.

Saturday
Jaguar Love @ 242 Main
Why the hell not?

Funkwagon @ Nectar's
Just kidding. I much prefer Funk Taco. Actually, Funkwagon isn't even playing. It's Greg Beadle's (ex- Cancer Conspiracy) utterly ass-kicking arena rock band Township. I just might have to go this one anyway, work be damned.

The Mathematicians @ Langdon St. Cafe
Hands down, my favorite band from last year's Jazz Fest — "The Real Deal," are you listening? Plus, it's only a stone's throw from Charlie O's, which is, hands down, the best best bar in Vermont. Oh yeah, they don't play jazz.

Sunday
Luminescent Orchestrii @ Los Nuevos Comedientes @ Club Metronome
While I do love me some gypsy-punk, I mostly just want to go to this so I can find out who the hell Los Nuevos Comedientes are. I've listed them in the club listings a couple of times now and never know what to put down as a genre since I can't find any info about the band anywhere — in fact, I might have even listed them as "comedy" at some point . . . whoops.

Karaoke With Pete @ Backstage Pub
Just making sure you're still paying attention.

Have a great weekend all. And if you're out and about, pour a little out for your local music critic, OK?

The Jazz(wo)men Cometh

Last week in Sound Bites, I remarked that folks reading the paper the day it hit newsstands would be doing so while I was attending a press conference announcing the lineup and sponsors of this year's Discover Jazz Festival, and that it was a sure of spring. It seems I was only half right.

Since that column ran, the weather has been undeniably spring-like. Eat your heart out Tom Messner. Unfortunately, I got my dates mixed up. Last Wednesday, I strolled into the Amy Tarrant Gallery at the FlynnCenter only to "discover" . . . a completely empty room. D'oh! The conference was actually yesterday, not a week ago.

I did end up attending, and I'm glad I did. The food was really, really good. Oh, and the lineup is pretty sweet too.

In particular, there was a lot of buzz around an up-and-coming R&B singer named Ledisi, who was recently nominated for two Grammys — Best R&B Album and Best New Artist, the latter of which she lost to Amy Winehouse. Hailed by pundits who hail such things as a blend of Ella Fitgerald and Erykah Badu, Ledisi is one sultry soul siren, equally adept at delivering slinky R&B and smoky jazz. Should be a great show.

The following is a clip from her appearance on PBS' "Great Performances: We Love Ella!" There's kind of a lot of talking — and the second half of the video features jazz a cappella ensemble Take 6. But the music in between is a tantalizing taste of what we can expect in a couple of months. Enjoy!

You can check out the rest of this year's lineup here.

Beaned!

Because of some unavoidable confusion, this week's issue of Seven Days contains no listings — beyond typical weekly events — for everybody's favorite hipster haunt, Radio Bean. In my column, I promised online updates as they became available. Well here we are on Friday afternoon and I finally have some info to pass along.

The Radio Bean music schedule for this weekend is: Absolutely nothing! And that includes residencies such as Irish Sessions and Honky Tonk Tuesday. The slate, this week anyway, has been wiped clean.

I wish I was joking, but alas, the Bean has scaled back its schedule from now until Sunday, March 23. I'd rather not get into the particulars of why, exactly, the change was made — I'm sure the more able-minded among you can figure it out on your own. But I will tell you what Lee Anderson and Co. have lined up in the interim.

Here's a snippet of an e-mail I received from the man himself:

The scene at The Bean is going to be totally different for the next 9 days. We're not going be having any music at all, including our usual residencies. We're calling it "The Aye-Yi-Ides" and it can be listed in the paper that way. Basically, we're going to be serving dinners, home-made ice cream, having an open discussion salon every night with different topics, and generally see what happens. Then, Sunday 3/23 everything goes back to 'normal' (whatever that means around here).

So there you have it.

On the plus side, this is the perfect opportunity for the jackasses who like to go to The Bean and talk through entire sets to gab to their hearts content, without fear of drawing the ire of folks around them who actually show up to listen to music. See? There's always a silver lining.

Liftoff!

Man, The Radiator is freakin' awesome!

Last night, I made my debut appearance on everybody's favorite local low-power FM station. I was a guest host for Jim Lockridge's totally ass-kickin' local music hour, "Rocket Shop." If you haven't listened, or at least seen the playlists he posts after each show, you're missing out. Especially if you remember "the good old days" when The Pants, Envy et al. ruled the scene. Every week is like a trip back in time, as if Club Toast is somehow inhabiting your transistors. He plays a bunch of newer stuff too, from a wide array of genres. Where else would you see Romans and Guppyboy in the same setlist?

Anywhoo, yesterday I couldn't share the exact tunes I'd chosen since that would have violated FCC codes. Some sort of protection against recording songs and distributing them to 50 million of your closest friends, I suppose. But that was then and this is now.

I started with "Dreams of Lisbon," by dynamic NEK hip-hop duo, Algorhythms. The tune was one of my favorite tracks from the recently released Projectivity/GTD comp, Projected Vol. 2. Take a listen here.

Next up, from his debut disc, Gringolandia, Mickey Western's "Las Vegas." Solid cut from a solid disc. Even if he does sound like Bob Dylan.

Following Mr. Western was maybe the prettiest song I've heard since Weezer's "Butterfly," "Seventh Sin" by Moses Atwood. I kinda bent the rules on this one, since Atwood isn't technically a VT product. He did spend last summer living out of a van in a friend's B-town driveway, so I think that almost counts, right? The dude is playing something like five VT shows in the next 10 days, so do yourself a favor a check him out. Listen to the track here.

Finally, I closed the set with Paddy Reagan's "Coffee & Cigarettes" from his nifty debut EP, Hey! Hi! Hello! While the tune was playing over the studio monitors, Kelsey Hanrahan, who does the "Weekend Update" — a run down of upcoming shows not to miss — remarked "Oooh. I like this one." Me too, Kelsey.

Hopefully, this will become a regular gig or at least happen as often as I have good tunes to share.

Thanks again to Jim Lockridge and crew. I had a blast, guys.

Rocket Powered

It's Wednesday night. Do you know where your local music critic is? On The Radiator, that's where.

Tonight I'll be making my debut appearance on Big Heavy World's "Rocketshop," hosted by Radiator co-founder Jim Lockridge. And I'm pretty psyched about it, I am. 

Here's the gist: I show up with a few select cuts from records recently reviewed in the esteemed pages of Seven Days and play them on air. Simple, no?

I'm going to go out on a limb and assume that you guys don't run out and buy every disc that gets ink in the paper. So the idea is to afford our readers — and Radiator listeners — the opportunity to hear some of the more interesting music they've (hopefully) been reading about. Kind of put a face (or ear, I guess) to the words.

Because of some predictably silly FCC regulation, I can't tell you exactly what I'll play. But I can tell you who.

This week, you'll hear music from Paddy Reagan's new EP, Hey! Hi! Hello!, Mickey Western's debut full-length, Gringolandia, the hip-hop comp Projected Vol. 2 and Moses Atwood's eponymous debut, which, if you haven't read today's paper, I really, really, really liked. A lot. Really.

Anyway, tune in tonight. 8 p.m. 105.9 FM.

PS- along similar lines, I'll be releasing podcasts featuring local music in the not-too-distant future. Or, as soon as I figure out what the hell a "podcast" is and how to make them.

Back In The Saddle

Soooo . . . how have you been, Solid State?

I know what you're wondering. Where the hell have you been, Dan? That's a complicated question, frankly. But I'll give you the Reader's Digest version.

I needed a break.

There, I said it. Sometimes, you just need to step back and recharge the old batteries and I sort of unintentionally took last week off to do just that. And I'm glad I did. I really feel much better, thank you.

It's not that I didn't want to write. I sat down a number of times last week with every intention of knocking out a blog post or two (or three). But for the first time I can remember, I stared at my computer screen and it simply stared back. Nuthin'. Every scribe faces bouts of writer's block from time to time, but this was something deeper. I honestly had nothing to say. It was scary, to tell the truth.

Everything I tried to write came out sounding forced and trite, so rather than waste my time or yours, I simply didn't post. Fortunately, Bridget has been able to keep things rolling right along in my absence. She's good like that. Scratch that, she's just good, period.

Friday night I went to Nectar's to catch The Jazz Guys, Sweet Ass Pussy and Heloise and Th . . . er, James Kochalka Superstar. I hadn't seen any of those bands in quite a while and was really looking forward to unwinding with some cold beer and good tunes. As it turns out, that was just what I needed.

Nectar's was packed. I haven't seen that many people out for a completely local lineup in years. I arrived in time to catch the tail end of Sweet Ass Pussy's set, which was thoroughly rockin'. Then Kochalka took the stage and did what Kochalka does, which if you're not familiar with him, can be mildly unsettling.

I was with a few friends who had never seen JKS and new little of James beyond reading American Elf in "the" Seven Days — By the way, it ain't "the" Seven Days. Just Seven Days. Just like it ain't RiRa's. Just RiRa. I hate that shit. And while we're on the subject, why the hell does What Ale's You have an apostrophe? Then again, why does What Ale's You even exist? But I digress.

Anyway, I tried to give my friends the rundown as best I could: Longtime Burlington musician/cartoonist/writer/artist, wrote the the song for the short-lived Fox sitcom "The Loop," yadda, yadda, yadda. Then, just as I was getting to the part about Nickelodeon using his music, off came the pants. Awesome. "Will that be on Nick at Nite?," they asked.

The older folks in front of me — whom I believe were Jazz Guys Maarten and Herb van der Poll's parents — seemed to take it in stride. Being on the shorter side, my view is often obstructed at live shows, and for once, I think I came out ahead as I was never afforded a clear view. But one particularly inebriated dude I spoke with described the proceedings thusly: "He really has splendid nuts." Well played, sir.

The Jazz Guys followed and were in fine form. I still remember their first shows some years ago at Radio Bean. back then, they were one of my favorite local bands because they really weren't very good. Defiantly so, in fact. Now, I think they're one of my favorites because they're really good. But they still have the same flippant attitude I found so endearing when they kind of sucked. It's the best of both worlds really.

They started their show with a special Valentine's Day movie which led to a guest appearance onstage from Jason Cooley. I couldn't find the entire film online, but I did stumble across the trailer. Here it is:

I left between their first and second sets, fully satisfied and a little tipsy. The evening was a great reminder of how much people in this town care about their local music and left me feeling re-energized and grateful. There was a ton of great incredible music to see this past weekend — if anyone caught Apes at the Monkey, I want a full report — and we should consider ourselves lucky to have so many people with such vested interests in the vitality of our little scene. Sometimes you just need a breather . . .

Farm Noise in Boston?

It seems Boston really is the "Hub of the Universe." This week, at least. Continuing on a theme from earlier in the week, S'nalban's/Enosburg Falls' finest, Farm, was glowingly reviewed in a recent edition of Beantown's voluminous indie music rag The Noise. Reviewer Ryan Bray refers to the trio's terrific 2007 release Gray Birds as "arguably one of the best records you've likely never heard." Well, I have heard it. A lot. And it's hard for me to disagree. Congrats, boys. When can we expect the new disc?

On a totally unrelated note, have you folks seen the documentary "King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters?" If you like Donkey Kong, fierce competition and even fiercer mullets, I highly recommend it. The film centers around two gentleman widely acknowledged to be the best Donkey Kong players in the world and one man's quest to gain acceptance in the surprisingly exclusive world of competitive gaming. If it sounds ridiculous, it is. It's also thoroughly engrossing and, at times, genuinely touching. Perhaps it was just lingering effects of The Game That Shall Not Be Named, but I found myself rooting with as much enthusiasm and vigor as any sporting event I've seen in recent memory. And for me, that's saying something. Chills, I tell you. Chills.

Anyway, I hope everyone has a wonderful weekend. As for myself, I'm playing the bachelor for a night or two as m'lady is out of town. I'm thinking greasy pizza, cheap beer and bowling. It's the simple pleasure, folks.

Damn You, Smittens! Damn You!!!!

Nahhh. Just kidding. How could anyone ever "damn" The Smittens? There just so darned . . . cute. Like, a puppy-eating-an-ice-cream-cone-in-a-sailor-suit kinda cute.  But they're also a great band that's continuing to gain notoriety beyond the currently gloomy borders of our insular little burg. (Note to Tom Messner: Seriously, dude. Snow or rain. Make up your fucking mind. If I fall on the ice one more time, I'm suing.)

Here's a link to an article published yesterday in the Boston Phoenix about our hometown twee-ty birds. It's one of the better profiles I've read on the band and I kinda I wish I'd written it first. Oh well. Still, it's a good read and succinctly captures the quintet's irrepressibly perk-tastic charm.

If chipper ain't your bag, here's a hysterical collection of celebrity obituary previews from David Thorpe's latest Burn Unit column in The Weekly Dig.  I didn't know this until I read it in Thorpe's column — and promptly cross-checked the facts, of course — but apparently the Associated Press actually prepares obits ahead of time (prehumously?) so they can semi-eloquently break the news the moment a star passes away. They were busted when an early draft of a Britney Spears obit recently leaked to the mass media. For the utterly pop-ignorant, Spears is still alive. Totally nuts. But still alive . . . for now.

How creepy is that? Could you imagine knowing that somewhere, someone is eulogizing you while you still live and breathe? It sounds like a Stephen King novel: A struggling writer gets a gig penning celebrity eulogies and a funny thing starts happening: they die exactly as he describes. He goes mad with power and becomes a celebrity in own right for his uncanny ability to predict death. But then the AP hires a new celebrity obit writer . . .

Actually, that's not bad. I smell a screenplay.

Really loading up on the Beantown rags today, for some reason. Must be a lingering subconscious reaction to the Super Bowl . . . sigh.

Wintry Mix

Anyone else all set with Winter? Frankly, I think bears have the right idea: just sleep right through that mutha. Sadly, unlike bears, we humans have the little annoyances of modern-day living like jobs, bills and reality TV to force us out of bed during this seemingly endless string of short days and long nights. That, I suppose, is why God invented whiskey. Thanks, big guy!

Anyway, surviving winter and the accompanying malaise clinically known as SAD — that's short for "Sucks Ass, Dammit" — requires a little creativity and, occasionally, an infusion of all-out pop-a-liciousness. Enter Plattsburgh's Hello Control.

I favorably reviewed the band's debut EP a couple of weeks ago. Although pop-punk ain't really my cup of Kool Aid, these kids are very good at what they do. If given the right combination of lucky breaks and a healthy degree of that all-important quality known as "stick-to-it-iveness," I could honestly see them appearing on the next American Pie soundtrack — American Pie: Cougar Hunt, I believe. And if that's not the next title in the bawdy teen-comedy franchise, it damn well should be.

So if Winter blues have got you down, get a load of this video from Hello Control, the latest by Jeff Howlett's Howlerman Productions.  And just think, Spring is technically only 56 days away. In Vermont, of course, it's really more like 80. But who's counting?

Late Afternoon Ramblings

Hey there, Solid State.

Since we've (sort of) been  talking about band marketing, I thought I'd pass this along. I'm not sure if this kind of thing has been done before — I'm guessing it has, though maybe not locally — but it seemed pretty creative to me.

Local reggae outfit, Pulse Prophets, are releasing their new CD, Breathe,  this Saturday night at Nectar's and have an interesting promotional gimmick lined up. For $5, you can enter a raffle to have the band play your house party. The proceeds from the raffle will go towards converting the group's van to run on veggie oil. So it's sort of for a good cause to boot! In a self-serving sort of way, I guess.

There are, of course,  a few stipulations involved. According to the band, they are:
- The Pulse Prophets will not be responsible for any noise violations.
- The Pulse Prophets will perform two sets with a break in the middle.
- The Pulse Prophets will rock your party!

Fair enough. But who supplies the weed?

Additional restrictions are that the party must be within 100 miles of Burlington, the band needs a 10'x20' space in which to perform and that the scheduled date will be mutually agreed upon. Sounds fair to me. However, I might have pushed a little harder on the rider if it was my band.

Back in the day, I briefly did some intern work for Higher Ground as Alex Crothers' assistant. One of my duties was photocopying contracts and mailing them out to bands. My favorite part of the job was reading the "artist's demands" section because they were often hysterically over-the-top.

I'm guessing I'd be violating some sort of code of ethics/law by divulging specifics, but let's just say that a certain heartthrob singer-songwriter, in addition to the standard booze and food requests, actually included condoms as part of his deal. Specifically, Trojans, if I remember correctly. I'm not sure a particular size was designated.

Some of the requests were almost comically simple in comparison. A rather iconic folk figure asked merely for this: a pot of black coffee and a ham sandwich. Awesome.

In closing, here's a picture of an idiot:

That is an actual tattoo of the New England Patriots' logo emblazoned on the side of this gentleman's head. Not only that, the dude has plans to replicate Patriots QB/golden-god Tom Brady's helmet by tattooing another logo on the other side of his head and the number 12 at the base of his skull. But "only if the Pats win the Super Bowl." Right. 'Cuz, that'd just be really dumb otherwise.

I claim 'Wife'!

I had the pleasure of seeing Husbands perform live for the first time this past Saturday, and... wow. If any of you are feeling a little jaded, with music or life in general, go see this band. Not only are they local, but they're so freaking cheerful you can't help but have a smile on your face watching them perform.

The band labels themselves as Ska / Punk / Reggae, but should really add a third slash followed by 'gymnasts' because I have to believe that Justin Gonyea installed some sort of sub-floorboard trampoline into one corner of Wasted City for that much bouncing to have gone down.

Did you know that Tyson Valyou can simultaneously play a Casio B3 and do the running man? And yes ladies, he's single.

Plus any excuse to see Alex Pond's face while drumming is worth it, you know? That's got to be one of the highlights of the greater Burlington scene right there.

Anyway, they're playing January 25th at The Monkey House. I'll be there, and so should you. I might even consider taking my chucks out of retirement for the occasion, if only to better get my skank on...

What The Yvel?

Roughly a decade ago, there was an awkward skinny kid named Jamie who played drums for a local ska band called The Skamaphrodites — which was largely made up of awkward skinny kids, including yours truly. As many a teenage drummer does, Jamie had aspirations beyond merely pounding the skins and took to writing songs of his own. We all thought his heart-on-sleeve pop confections were really cute in a lost-puppy-dog sort of way, patted him on the head and went back to the business of crafting juvenile pop-ska, taking ourselves waaay too seriously and drinking underage. Ah, the folly of youth!

As most young bands do, we eventually flamed out — in a blaze of Natty Light-fueled debauchery, of course — and went our separate ways. At that point, we all lived together in an Old North End hovel and I distinctly remember the soundtrack to our breakup being the off-key caterwauling and clumsy acoustic strumming emanating from Jamie's second floor bedroom. I wonder what ever happened to that guy?

Well, that awkward, skinny kid named Jamie became an awkward, skinny man named James and is seeing his star rise in ways few Vermont-born musicians ever have.

Signed to Bjork's One Little Indian label, James Levy is becoming something of a big deal at home and abroad, as evidenced by this recent blurb in Spin magazine. The clip was sent to me this morning by a friend in Boston and I almost spit coffee all over my computer screen when I read it.  I mean, I had breakfast with the dude at Magnolia last weekend. And now here's his pouting mug staring back at me from one of the world's most popular music rags. Crazy.

However, you know you've hit the big time when a disgruntled music critic creates an entire website devoted to espousing his hatred of your music. In what might be the first MySpace-inspired fracas in the history of rock feuds, some hack calling himself "Andersonenvy" rips into Levy and has produced two animated shorts on the topic. Here's the first:

To see the second and read the review that started it all, click here.

Frankly, the whole thing is pretty ridiculous. But still, it's got to be at least a little bit flattering for someone to have such a strong opinion of your work that they devote so much time and energy into telling the world. Even if they hate you.

The old adage is that living well is the best reward. Snark-laden cartoons and all, it appears that James Levy — don't call him Jamie — is doing just that. Congrats, man.

3-2-1...

The other night I ran into Max Schwartz at The Monkey House where I had the pleasure of chatting with him about the local scene, young business ventures, social networking sites, and of course, The Jazz Guys.

Max shared with me that all music recorded by The Jazz Guys is available free to download online, a fact I had not previously been aware of. It makes sense, though. Free music is a great way to build a solid fan base. A fan base that will buy tickets to your shows, and in turn support your tour efforts.

Any other local acts have their full recordings available for download?

And oh yeah, Happy New Year!

I'll be celebrating back at The Monkey (no surprise there) where guests are encouraged to bring their own vinyl to contribute to a low key New Years. If you're looking for something a little more... raging... there's plenty going on around town; Chuch and Bad Suit at Nectar's, Grace Potter and Lowell Thompson at Higher Ground, and The Bean's New Year's Eve Variety Ball at The Radio Bean.

So what are your New Year's Resolutions?

Holiday Wishlist

Ho ho freakin' ho, Solid State.

A few weeks ago, I sent out an e-mail to a large number of area musicians, club owners, promoters and scenesters, asking for some general holiday/new year wishes. I asked them to keep it short, sweet, interesting and above all, to avoid any corny "Peace on Earth" nonsense — not because I'm against peace, but because it's something we should be wishing for year-round, not just when Hallmark says to.

To my pleasant surprise, the response was overwhelming and I have waaaaay more submissions than I can possibly use, even for the two issues the responses will run.

The solution? Why Solid State, of course! What follows is a submission I received with special instructions that I print it in its entirety or not at all. Since I already have too much to work with already, I submit for your approval, The Holiday Wish List of Mr. Damon Brink, proprietor of Nectar's and Club Metronome.

My Christmas list…

I would like to see The Aztext continue to blow up.

I would like for Alex Budney to continue to rock worlds in whatever he chooses.

I would like for the staff at Nectar’s to have an unlimited supply of eggnog, Sugarbush passes, and joy (sorry for the cliché) cause they “piss excellence."

I would like the fans of live music to be treated to even more of it by the guys, like us, who are the real deal: Alex Crothers and the HG crew, Jim Lockridge at Big Heavy, Lee Anderson at Radio Bean.

I would like the same venues above to be treated to mobs and mobs of fans that just can’t get enough and who think that paying $5 to see and hear live expression through the art of music is actually a deal instead of a burden.

I would like to see Jay Z pick up Fatty B’s line, STEEZ.

I would like to see State of Mind magazine on the West Coast.

I would like to see One Love Communications revolutionize the way unsigned artists are booked, promoted and connected.

I would like to see Nectar’s go LIVE with streaming web radio and live webcasts of shows.

I would like to see Dan Bolles simply smile at his critics.

I would like to see The Zodiac Room born again as the crown jewel of Burlington’s Club/Venue scene.

I would like for more Burlingtonians to realize that there is some seriously good food at Nectar’s…yes the seats might be ripped and it may look a bit tired on the restaurant side…but the food is no joke, local, fresh and fucking great!

I would like to see more music, more activity, more festivals, more fun, more money, more smiles, more beautiful girls, more rippin guitars, more horns, more slick rhymes over thumpin beats, more female musicians, more crowds, more lines, more great, local food and … less ‘tude…dude.

I would like responsible, caring landlords

I would like to see Mayor Kiss get the support and respect I think he deserves for being the opposite of an ego driven, “must make decision now”, talk, talk, talk…type of politician we are so unlucky to have in so many positions today.

I would like to give away a ton of BOOZE – get really drunk with beautiful people – march down to the waterfront on a hot august night – strip down naked and play waffle ball – while shouting and rolling in the grass with glee … and have the entire Liquor Control Sub Committee as well as the VT DLC tell me the next day that they were there and even though we didn’t see each other…they had a really great time and can’t wait to do it again…

And to come back to some reality…I would like to sell Nectar’s for a million bucks – with a BIG RED BOW.

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like X-Mas . . . groan.

Well folks, the weather outside is indeed frightful and so is Downtown Disney, er, Church Street. Have you folks ventured down our quaint pedestrian mall at night lately? I'm pretty sure they must have hired Clark W. Griswold to do the lights this year. They're positively blinding.

Anyway, with Christmas and New Year's fast approaching, 'tis the season to start making lists. Lots of lists. Shopping lists. Naughty and Nice lists. People to Kill lists. Soon-to-be-failed New Year's Resolution lists. And of course, year-end top ten lists.

This is a first for me. I'm sure somebody out there probably cared about what I thought about stuff prior to my employment at Seven Days — Hi Mom! — but now it's serious. I actually have to write about it. A lot. And well.

Frankly, the pressure is staggering . . . kinda.

In addition to my obvious year-end newspaperly duties, the nice folks over at False 45th were kind enough to ask me to participate in their year-end round-up, which is already off and running. As soon as I get my act together and fill out their survey, I'll let you know.

I was also asked to participate in The Village Voice's year-end roundup, which, frankly, isn't nearly as cool as it sounds, as I'm one of about 1500 writers contributing. I had no idea there were so many of us. Scary. Still, it's just nice to be asked.

This time around, the Seven Days CD round-up is going to be a bit different than in years past, mostly because Casey and I pretty much split the year right down the middle. As such, the estimable Contrarian will sift through his favorite local discs of the year, I'll do the same and we'll meet somewhere roughly in the middle. In a couple of weeks, all shall be revealed.

In the meantime, I thought I'd pose the question to the masses and and allow you, the vigilant denizens of Solid State, to make the case for your favorite local albums of 2007. So let's hear it, folks. What were your favorite local releases this year?

And the winner is . . .   

Big. Heavy. Word.

Good afternoon, everybody.

I've been meaning to get to this post all week. But between discussing the merits — or lack thereof — of cover songs on the last post, sifting through the remarkable story that is Tinariwen (thirtyseven is right, they're amazing), immersing myself, yet again, in local hip-hop (if you dig rap and/or hip-hop, check out the next Hip-Hop Open Mic @ Nectar's. It's a lot of fun.), and a rather comical run-in with Animal Control (while attempting to berate/fine me for playing fetch with my dog off-leash, said officer stepped in poop. Noting my full doggie poo bag, she let me go with a warning.), time has simply slipped me by this week. Almost.

Woody Allen once said that "Eighty percent of success is showing up." I'm not sure how accurate his percentage is, but I've found the sentiment usually rings true. Even in cyberspace!

Last week, I was asked to take part in a panel discussion for Big Heavy World's IndieCon 2007. For those of you who missed the column mention in last week's paper, Indiecon is basically a music conference/showcase on a Burlington-sized scale. The idea is to provide a resource for area musicians and industry types to get together and share experiences and knowledge in hopes of strengthening the scene and to offer artists a chance to explore the inner workings of the industry, from promotion and booking to song-craft and history. Like everything BHW founder Jim Lockridge touches, it's a noble endeavor. To say the least, the dude's got heart and we're very lucky to have him.

My panel discussion dealt with "Press & Airplay" and featured Freeps A&E writer Brent Hallenbeck — whom I'd yet to meet until then, oddly enough — WRUV Station Manager Pat Floyd, 99.9 The Buzz Program Director Matt Grasso — whom I'd also not met, despite working in the same building — and folk songwriter Rik Palieri.

To go back to Allen's quote, it's a shame more folks didn't show up. I learned a lot just listening to the other panelists speak about what they do. And being asked to put into words what, exactly, it is I do was a refreshing experience.  Sometimes, in the hustle and bustle of the day-to-day grind, it's easy to forget just how important a role we media types can play, especially in an insular community such as ours. It's good for me to keep that in mind.

Anyway, as stated, the discussion was woefully under attended. In a strange way, that may actually have been a good thing as the evening took on a more conversational tone than it otherwise might have. Topics ranged from the best way to approach the media for press to what to send and when to send it and almost everything in between. Should you be overly aggressive? No, but it doesn't really hurt. Should you just "drop by" the office? Never. Should you send as much info as can possibly fit in a padded mailer? Please, God. No.

The overriding theme of the evening for each panelist, regardless of discipline, was perhaps the simplest and most fundamental aspect of promotion: knowing what you're asking for, who you're dealing with and making it as easy as possible for that person to access your info. You'd be amazed at how many bands, on every level, haven't figured that out. I don't need a Yo-Yo with your band's logo on it (I have one if anyone wants it). I do need a hi-rez pic of your band.

I have boxes of CDs in my office that I will never listen to. Why? Because they have absolutely zero relevance to my job. I'm just not gonna write about some indie band from Western Illinois that opened for Bright Eyes unless they're connected to/playing in Vermont. I will however, respond to their PR person's inquiry and let them know not to waste their time and/or money and why. I believe the estimable Mr. Rae-Hunter's term for this particular aspect of the job was "The Velvet Fist." I prefer "Nerf-Hammer."

Obviously, if you're a musician reading this blog, you know what I do and what I cover. So in terms of getting press in 7Days . . . well, duh. But, the concept resonates beyond the friendly confines of Burlington. I believe Jason Cooley's response to my very first Solid State post is appropriate here, "Do your homework." It'll save you a lot of headaches and cash.

This was only the 3rd installment of IndieCon and, in many ways, the event is still gathering its feet. Hopefully, future editions will draw a few more people. Even if you deal with this stuff every day, like I do, it's still a great learning experience with potential to be an invaluable resource to our cozy little music scene.

In the meantime, my Inbox is always open and my Nerf-Hammer is always at the ready, should ever you need it.

Have a great weekend, Solid State!

Howling At The Moon, Emotively

So I was all set to deliver a recap of last night's epic GWAR show at Higher Ground and then I realized that I left my effing camera in my girlfriend's car. D'oh!

Sadly, I wasn't allowed to shoot pics in the concert. But I did get some pretty cool shots of the hardy souls who dared to stand within 100 feet of the stage emerging from the club after the show. Tomorrow I will regale you with horrific tales of madness and mayhem in South Burlington.

Until then, check out this new video from local emo-core outfit Waiting For A Miracle whose self-titled debut album was one of the first I ever reviewed for the paper. It's directed by 5 Seconds Expired front man  Jeff Howlett's production company, Howlerman Productions.

Enjoy . . . but in an angsty way, of course.

Euphemismia

I am so very tempted to ramble on about my beloved Sox snatching victory from the jaws of defeat this weekend. So very, very tempted. But, rather than subject myself to the inevitable backlash that follows when I merely mention something sports-related, I'll refrain . . . for now. We are in the World Series, after all.

Instead, I thought I'd take this opportunity on a dreary Tuesday afternoon to wax nostalgic for a moment. Plus, I'm really under the weather and exerting much more effort than what will follow just ain't in the cards. So here we go...

It's funny how random little moments from the past will occasionally rear their heads when you least expect. A few weeks ago, my brother sent me an MP3 of a song we recorded together from our first band, Ska-Ka-Doodle-Doo!. We were in high school and were just about as awful as our name would imply. I was the drummer, my good friend and current musical comedian, Jon Murray, was the lead singer and trombonist — despite never having actually played the instrument before — and Tyler played bass. He was probably the only reasonably talented player in the band at the time, as the rest of the group was made up of random kids with very marginal ability — though I do recall we had a pretty good sax player for little while.

Anyway, that song — a ska cover of the jazz standard "All Of Me" — really knocked me down memory lane. We totally sucked. But we had a blast and you can hear that, even on the crappy Tascam 4-track recording. I sent the file to Jon, figuring he'd get a kick out of it too. He did, and then he one-upped me, sending back a song that I had completely forgotten ever recording.

At some point between the dissolution of my other ska band, The Skamaphrodites — who were much better than the name implies — and moving to Boston, we recorded this bizarre little tune that Tyler wrote, presumably while on a Beach Boys kick. Again, I'm playing drums — poorly — Tyler is on bass and lead vocals, Jon is on rhythm guitar and a guy by the name of Mark Aronsen is on lead guitar. We all help out on backing vocals and hand-claps.

Here it is, for your listening pleasure, "Super Woody" by Richard & The Rhythm Kings, recorded in a random basement somewhere in Burlington, circa 1999ish.

Weekend Rambling

Happy most worthless holiday of the year, Solid State. How was your weekend?

Mine was pretty OK, thanks for asking!

Friday night I journeyed across the river to the revitalized Monkey House to check out one of my favorite new-ish bands, Horse Feathers. Regular readers might remember my review of their show at The Skinny Pancake a few months ago. As such, it's no secret that I have something of a "thing" for the Portland, OR duo. Unfortunately, Friday's show was not their finest hour.

It appears that the band has multiplied. Their masterful debut disc, Words Are Dead, was primarily the product of songwriter Justin Ringle and multi-instrumentalist Peter Broderick. When they came through town in June, they added Broderick's sister Heather on cello. Nice touch.

This time around, they took the stage as a quartet, minus Peter Broderick who is touring in Europe. Sadly, the extra help seemed to do little in making up the difference. For me, a major part of the band's appeal is their remarkably well-blended harmonies. It's the sort of skill that requires a great deal of time and effort to master, particularly given Ringle's unorthodox vocal delivery. The new folks simply weren't up to par and often sounded disjointed/disinterested.

It didn't help that the sound system at the Monkey isn't really designed to handle much beyond your standard garage rock band. Don't get me wrong, I love what Paddy Reagan and Co. have been doing with their little bar in Winooski. They've been booking some really interesting shows and provide a great alternative to the downtown bar/club scene. But something really must be done about that PA. Perhaps we can take up a collection?

I suppose another factor contributing to the overall tone of the evening might have been the conflict between folks who wanted to sit and and wallow in melancholia and those who were more interested in the Red Sox-Angels playoff game on TV. I have to admit, I was torn. Also, I imagine the cheer that went up as Manny Ramirez belted a walk-off three-run shot onto the Mass Pike didn't aid the cause . . .  my bad.

The opener, Johanna Kunin, was pretty solid in that cute-indie-girl-with-an-organ kinda way. Sadly, I missed Farm — see above Red Sox conflict. I am however, pleased to report that St. Albans' finest are taking refuge in the Cave of Legends to record new material. Can't wait to hear it, guys.

Due to an unforeseen scheduling gaffe, I also missed out of The Capstan Shafts show in Stannard. Word is that Horse Feathers and Johanna Kunin got in on that one too. If anyone went and has a report, I'd love to know how it was.

So yeah . . . Happy Columbus Day 'n' stuff.

Can Can

So there it is, in all its glory. The hunter's orange can from Miller High Life. Kinda pretty isn't it?

Not since Abercrombie & Fitch began marketing thongs to grade schoolers have we seen such a brazen display of marketing impropriety. Do you hunt? Do you drink? Now you can can do both without fear of a most unfortunate casualty befalling you in the woods: having your beer mistaken for a whitetail and accidentally blown away. Thanks, Miller! (High Life's actual slogan: "Common Sense in a Bottle" . . . indeed.)

Last weekend, some friends and I put the new design to the test at my girlfriend's parent's cabin on the edge of the Northeast Kingdom. None of us are hunters, but we do like drinking in the great outdoors. Adding legitimacy to the experiment, the normal parameters of "hunting season" don't really apply in that particular neck of the woods — which is red, and I ain't talkin' about the leaves.

I'm pleased to report that all of our beers emerged from the weekend unscathed. My poor half-crazy half-pit bull, Buckley, had a few close calls — he's mostly white — and I take full responsibility. Next time, he'll be outfitted with a beer helmet and have twice the protection! Safety first, don'cha know.

Aside from the obvious appeal of drinking schwaggy American lager in the great outdoors, perhaps the best part of the weekend was sitting by a fire in one of the most remote locations in Vermont and listening to a ton of great music. I think you know you've settled in to your job as a local music writer when you shuffle your iPod and discover there's equal parts local and national material. I've always listened to a lot of local stuff intermingled with well known groups. But perhaps because I have so much access to it now, never before have the two been pretty much on par.

There's something deeply pleasing about listening to Sufjan Stevens transition to Nose Bleed Island which then melds into Band Of Horses, segueing nicely into Farm. It was even cooler to have an Aesop Rock track blend seamlessly into VT Union and then turn around and spit out Andrew Bird — it was like the iPod had been observing my entire week and taking notes . . . creepy.

One band that stood out and made frequent appearances in the mix was the deliciously subversive acolytes of Beefheart, Man Man. With healthy vaudevillian nods towards Tom Waits, the band is a circus freakshow whose sinister musical machinations were magnified by the eerie shadows cast by the flickering flames. Picture David Lynch remaking The Blair Witch Project, and I think you'll get the idea. 

It probably won't, but I'm hoping tonight's show at Metronome — with experimental weirdos Yip Yip and local boys Yes and No Stories — has a similarly chilling effect. Perhaps I should bring some High Life along, just in case.

Bird Droppings

Good afternoon, Solid State!

Friday night, I found myself at Higher Ground bouncing between the two rooms as venerable Chi-town tunesmith Andrew Bird headlined the Ballroom and one of my local favorites, Chuch, was the main event in the Showcase Lounge. On the plus side, the show times were staggered such that I caught all of Bird's set and nearly all of Chuch as well. The bummer was having to choose between Bird's opener, Plants and Animals and the two local openers in the Lounge, Party Star and Burette Douglas' high-lonesome side project, The Lonestar Chain.

Feeling the local vibe, I chose the latter and was treated to a solid set of stripped down alt-country tunes delivered in Douglas' trademark laid-back Texas drawl, aided by some nifty backing vocals and acoustic guitar lines from guit-box wizard, Creston Lea. Sadly, I was whisked away to the Ballroom before Party Star took the stage, but I'm told they were pretty rock-tastic. Maybe next time.

Andrew Bird was jaw-droppingly, show-stoppingly, art-poppingly indie-credible. Combining Devotchka's bohemian artistry with Joe Henry's articulate song constructs and a hint of Jeff Buckley-esque vocal dramatics, the dude was flat out brilliant. But then, I'm a sucker for loop effects, especially with a violin. I'm also a sucker for soaring falsetto. And melodrama. We all have our weaknesses.

The show let out just as Chuch was taking the stage, so I ducked back into the Lounge and was treated to the best denim-fueled speedwestern this side of the Mason Dixon. It's just too bad there weren't more people there to see it.

As my eyes drifted toward the door beside the bar and saw hundreds of indie-rock fans filing out of the Ballroom, I had a thought: Why not let folks who paid relatively big bucks to see the national act check out the local product in the next room?

Chuch and Andrew Bird share next to nothing in common, musically. But it's a good bet that more than a few of the folks who paid to see the latter would dig the former. I know I do. However, most people don't have my writerly access, so the idea of paying another cover on top of the 20 or 30 bucks they've already spent — not including booze — is probably unrealistic. But if you let them in for free — or even at a reduced rate — I'm guessing you'd have pretty close to a packed room rather than the 100 or so people who showed up to see Burlington's reigning kings of the road.

It's a proposition that benefits everyone involved. Rather than competing against Goliath, smaller acts could benefit from the proximity of larger attractions. Chuch typically doesn't need help in that regard — they've come pretty close to selling out the Ballroom on a couple of occasions on their own. But they could have used a hand that night.

From the club's side, more people in the small room means more bar sales. Where were most of the folks leaving Higher Ground likely headed at 10:30 on a Friday night? The bars downtown. I know because I saw a bunch of them later that night. Why not sacrifice a few bucks on ticket sales and make it back — and then some, given HG's beer prices — by keeping people in your club for an extra hour?

Higher Ground will never be a bastion of local music and that's fine. They're  a marquee club that focuses on national acts and do well in that regard. However, the concept works at similar venues like Paradise Rock Club in Allston and there's no reason it couldn't be just as effective in Burlington. Perhaps we should propose the idea over at Higher Ground box office dude Nick Mavadones's new blog?

As an aside, I was going to tie this whole thing into the new Miller High Life can design but then I just had to go on a rant. Tune in tomorrow for a crash course in hunter/drinker safety!

Indie Con Artist

Howdy folks.

A few weeks ago, I was approached by Big Heavy World founder — and all around good guy — Jim Lockridge, who asked me to participate as a panelist in the upcoming local music conference, Indiecon. Always willing to help BHW, I eagerly accepted and now am a member of the Press & Airplay panel with such local luminaries as Matt Grasso (programming director of 99.9 The Buzz), Pat Floyd (Music Director at WRUV), Rik Palieri (Songwriter's Notebook) and bizarro me, The Free Press' Brent Hallenbeck — whom I've actually yet to meet, oddly enough.

I'm not exactly sure what to expect, but I'm kind of excited about being involved. I'm a big fan of BHW and any opportunity I have to make myself sound important — and possibly have people believe it — is always welcome.

Anyway, folks should definitely check out the website — and the nifty pic/self-inflating bio of yours truly. There's a full schedule of events and details on how you can be involved.

PS- I expect to see you all at Club Metronome tonight for Akron/Family. They are sofa king good.

PPS- I didn't see any of you at Aesop Rock last night. Maybe you were there but I just couldn't see you through the mob of fitted hat-wearing, battle-rapping high-school kids. Yikes!

Bob Loblog

Sheesh. Has it really been a week since I last posted?

Wow. I suck.

My deepest apologies, Solid State. It's been a weird week filled with lots of live music, catching up with "Deadwood" season 3 and copious amounts of writing about hip-hop, of all things. Oh, and an unfortunate run-in with Shelburne's finest — that last one is unrelated to the hip hop thing, just so you know.

Anyway, I'd have to say that, for me, the highlight of the last week was Neil Cleary's CD release at Higher Ground on Thursday night — especially given that I spent a good chunk of the previous weekend writing about him. I haven't seen Neil play in quite a while and he was in fine form. His backing band was tight, his voice was typically smooth and his new stuff is terrifically pop-rocktastic. If you haven't checked out I Was Thinking Of You The Whole Time, I highly suggest that you do.

Unfortunately, I missed an opening set by The Jazz Guys as I was attending the release of the new Wyld Stallions comp, A Line In The Sand, produced by none other than Seven Days' own Bridget Burns in association with Iraq Veterans Against The War. I caught the two opening acts, folk-punkers  Whiskey Smile and Slug's Revenge — both are solo artists who employ the Bright Eyes/Conor Oberst pseudonym thingie. There was a lot of angsty politicizin' and more than a few busted guitar strings, but it was a pretty cool event highlighted by a couple of moving speeches by the veterans themselves.

If you have a chance to listen to these folks speak about their experiences and their reasons for resisting the Iraq War, do it. Their stories add a unique perspective to the conversation we recently had on this very blog. I was impressed, to say the least.

This week is shaping up to be just as busy on the music front — and I'm down to the final 2 Deadwood discs to boot . . . cocksucker.

So little time . . .

Pants on Fire!

Good morning, Solid State!

Last week, I hinted at an upcoming post about my pants, but due to some pesky time constraints, said post never materialized. Red Sox - Yankees game at Fenway, orrrrrrr blog post? Hmmmm . . . The blog's gonna lose that one every time — even with a 5 run lead in the eighth . . . sigh.

Anyway, I returned safe and sound from Boston — though slightly bruised and battered from witnessing the worst Red Sox game of the year — and now that I've shaken off the cobwebs, let's get down to it.

You've probably heard about Bill Simmon's upcoming projects involving late local rock icons iThe Pants!. If you haven't, here's the synopsis:

A little over a year ago, Tommy Law, Pistol Stamen, Hutch and Tad Cautious reunited for a one-night-only blow-out at the Higher Ground Ballroom. The crown princes of  Burlington's alt-rock renaissance rocked like it was Club Toast in 1996, enthralling a room full of aging hipsters eager for a nostalgic romp down memory lane. Or so I'm told. You see, I wasn't there.

That same day happened to be my grandmother's funeral in Jamestown, Rhode Island.

Aside from the obvious emotional distress, the real added insult to injury was missing the only band reunion I've ever been truly excited about — though The Pixies and Big Star had their appeal, I must admit.

I've written this before, but The Pants were hugely important in my formative years, and Tom Lawson's songwriting is directly responsible for my decision to pursue music as a youngster and beyond. Whether he knows that — or cares — is kind of irrelevant. But it's the truth.

I was a Pants superfan starting at age 15, eagerly devouring anything Pants-related I could get my hands on — I still have an over-sized Pants T-shirt. I even joined the prom committee during my Junior year of high school to recruit the band to play at my prom. They did. It rocked. And half of CVU's student body wanted my head on a stake. Good times.

But back to Bill Simmon. The Candleboy is producing a pair of DVD projects centered on the reunion. One is a concert film; The other a documentary retrospective on the band and the impact they had on Burlington's music community.

In the concert film, there's a scene in which Neil Cleary  — more on him in tomorrow's paper — relays a message to the band, sent by my sister, Ariel, that my siblings and I had done a version of the classic Pants ballad "Wounded (You're So Fine)" at my grandmother's wake — we're Irish, so drinking and singing is a big part of any family gathering, especially the sad ones.

We performed the song in tribute to a band that we all loved, out of remorse for missing the show. In our weaker moments, each of us toyed with the idea of trying to make it back to Burlington in time to catch it — and I'm honestly not so sure my grandmother wouldn't have approved. But obviously, we stayed.

Flash forward to this year. I met Bill at the Seven Daysies awards party and he proposed the idea of The Bolles Family Singers recording our version of "Wounded" to be included in the documentary. Flabbergasted and more than a little flattered, I eagerly accepted without consulting Ari or Tyler. Honestly, I would have done it solo, if I'd had to — thank God I didn't.

A few weeks ago —  after no small degree of schedule wrangling and a hastily abbreviated practice session — we descended on Egan Media and recorded the song that served as the soundtrack to all of my romantic follies from age 16 to, well, now. It was surreal, to say the least.

We recorded it live, with acoustic guitar, upright bass and banjo and had to drop the key a whole step — my range ain't quite what it used to be, and I've always had trouble matching Tom's tenor. But it sounded good. Really good.

I think.

Tyler and Ari and I don't have as many opportunities to play together as we used to, and to be able to reunite to show our appreciation for a band that — in very different ways — meant so much to each of us at various points in our lives was an honor.

I'm not sure when the finished product will be available, but when I know, so will you. In the mean time, you can keep an eye out over at Candleblog — which you should anyway. It's really good.

So that's it. You got into my pants. And after only only 4 months, you sly dogs.

Always Look On the Bright Side Of Life

It's been a rough 48 hours, Solid State.

After a mad scramble on Monday morning to fix not one, not two but three f'ed-up spotlights in the music section, I've recently been made aware that this week's cover spot,  James Kochalka— a replacement for a band that send me the wrong freakin' date for their show — has canceled his Radio Bean performance. In the words of Charlie Brown, "Aaugh!"

On that note, it appears that my beloved New England Patriots are cheaters of Bondsian — or perhaps, Lucy-esque — proportions. Like I said, a rough 48 hours.

A few words of wisdom to aspiring musicians before we continue:

1. ALWAYS double check to make sure you send along the correct dates, especially if you're playing at the Bean since they don't post a calendar.

2. If you're trying to promote your band but don't have a high-resolution jpeg, get one.

3. I like cookies. Feel free to bribe me with them or use them as a conciliatory gesture if you screw up either of the above.

Now that we've gotten that out of the way, I wanted to let you know about a show that I never believed would happen: Gogol Bordello in Montpelier.

I'm not kidding. Ed DuFresne, booking dude for Langdon St. Cafe and the heart and soul of the Northeast Kingdom Music Fest has managed to convince Eugene Hutz and Co. that it's a good idea to play in an old gymnasium in our fair state capital. He might just be right.

I'm guessing the odd location is the result of the controversy surrounding GB's last performance Higher Ground and their rumored banishment from the club. Anyone with more info on that, feel free to divulge. This is the blogosphere, after all — wild unconfirmed rumors are par for the course!

Anyway, here are the pertinent details, press release style!

Gogol Bordello
Friday October 12, 2007
Vermont College Gymnasium, corner of College and East State Streets, Montpelier.
Doors: 6:30 PM
Showtime: 7:30 PM
Tickets: $20 + applicable service fees, on sale now at Riverwalk Records in Montpelier, Pure Pop in Burlington, via phone at 888.512.SHOW and online at www.frontgatetickets.com.
Amenities: A full bar will be available to those 21 and over at the show, courtesy of The Black Door Bar and Bistro.

THERE ARE A LIMITED NUMBER OF TICKETS TO THIS SHOW AND IT WILL SELL OUT, AND NO MORE TICKETS WILL BE RELEASED – GET YOUR TICKETS NOW.

So, yeah. Gogol Bordello . . . In Montpeculiar  . . .  Anyone want to try and set up a few Morf vans to caravan to the show?

Tee hee, "caravan" . . . a rough 48 hours, friends. A long, rough 48 hours.

Tune in tomorrow to get in my Pants!

Where Have All The Hippies Gone? by Bridget Burns

I remember studying the Vietnam War in high school and being so jealous of my parents for living through that time. It wasn’t the fighting I wanted, it was being part of a passionate generation. While the kids of the sixties and seventies spent hours rallying and organizing, my generation is so lazy that desperate politicians have actually made it possible to register to vote through a text message.

I mean, COME ON.

But then we went to war and I realized that even with a cause, the majority of my generation is just too lazy to become impassioned.

During Vietnam, about twenty GI Coffeehouses sprung up around the country, serving as a place for off-duty soldiers to hang out, listen to music, and become politically active. This past weekend, I was lucky enough to attend a show at the Iraq-era’s first GI Coffeehouse in Watertown, NY, home of the Fort Drum Army Base.

The event was a send-off party for a group of soldiers about to deploy, including “Andy.” Andy is an unassuming punk kid who you might bump into at Higher Ground and not give a second thought to. He wears chucks, studded belts, and Fat Wreck T-shirts. He smokes Camel Lights and drinks whatever you’ll buy for him. After all, he’s underage.

He’s also a medic responsible for the wellbeing of twenty men in Iraq.

Andy is a soldier about to serve his duty, but he still cheered louder than anyone else in the room when Baltimore-based folk singer Ryan Harvey sang “Cuz in year one Bush declared victory / In two and three the casualties increased / In year number four it grew into a civil war / In year five I will make sure we leave / In year five I'll make sure we leave.”

The whole event got me thinking: Why isn’t my generation more passionate? Why aren’t there more singers like Ryan, pouring their hearts into songs inspired by the war stories of young men like Andy? I mean sure, we rock against Bush and all, but lyrics like Ryan’s — which can all be read here — are a throwback to a time when anti-war lyrics were the only lyrics. When protesting wasn’t just some screamo band setting one track aside to say that “war sucks.” When musicians literally dedicated their careers to making change through music.