Moments after the shocking 23-20 defeat at the hands of the effete Pittsburgh Steelers, car keys from Aberdeen to B'lair were plunged in the yawning underbellies of the customary thin aluminum cans of Natty Boh. Pudgy fingers groped awkwardly for the trigger to ingite a city-wide catharsis of hops and sadness.

"I really thought dey was gon' win em all dis year," said everyone who has ever called into WNST to squawk unintelligle football analysis over public airwaves.

Next year, dear friends. Next year.

As an aside, there's been a groundswell of support for a San Francisco-based Mutant Weekend. Taking full advantage of this weekend's free Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival and Dan McGill's hideously overpriced NFL Sunday Ticket, expect more exciting details to come shortly.

On to Week 5:

Tenn at Baltimore

Indy at Houston

Seattle at Giants

SD at Miami

Wash at Philly

TB at Denver

Buffalo at Arizona

NE at San Francisco

Pit at Jax

Monday Night Football:

Min at NO

A few weeks ago I picked up the newest from King Khan, this time backed by The Shrines. While my favorite record of his to date is his more garagey "duet" with BBQ Show, this latest effort, The Supreme Genius of King Khan & The Shrines, is a spectacular diversion that features a backing horn section and organ. Several songs from King Khan's 2007 import release as well as even older tunes are given new treatment here, including my current personal anthem, "Welfare Bread." It's a cool idea for the Indian-French-Canadian singer to just re-record the songs instead of re-releasing them straight up for this domestic "greatest hits" offering on Vice. Fans of the Dap-Kings take note; this sound is equally legit.

King Khan & The Shrines — "Welfare Bread"

[audio http://www.fileden.com/files/2008/9/25/2114682/King%20Khan%20-%20Welfare%20Bread.mp3|leftbg=0x357DCE|rightbg=0xF06A51|rightbghover=0xAF2910|righticon=0xF2F2F2|lefticon=0xF2F2F2|righticon=0xFFFFFF|text=0x357DCE|slider=0x357DCE|track=0xFFFFFF|border=0xFFFFFF|loader=0xAF2910|loop=no]

The new Jamie Lidell record, Jim, is a blast. This one's definitely going on PIANOS!.

Jamie Lidell — "Where D'You Go?"

[audio http://www.fileden.com/files/2008/9/25/2114682/Jamie%20Lidell%20-%20Where%20D-You%20Go.mp3|leftbg=0x357DCE|rightbg=0xF06A51|rightbghover=0xAF2910|righticon=0xF2F2F2|lefticon=0xF2F2F2|righticon=0xFFFFFF|text=0x357DCE|slider=0x357DCE|track=0xFFFFFF|border=0xFFFFFF|loader=0xAF2910|loop=no]

Bonnie "Prince" Billy's new album is his most accessible cross-over attempt in a long while. It's also quite enjoyable, and comes packaged in a Periwinkle blue jewel case. Here's his duet with Ashley Webber (of The Organ).

Bonnie "Prince" Billy — "You Want That Picture"

[audio http://www.fileden.com/files/2008/9/25/2114682/Bonnie%20Billy%20-%20You%20Want%20That%20Picture.mp3|leftbg=0x357DCE|rightbg=0xF06A51|rightbghover=0xAF2910|righticon=0xF2F2F2|lefticon=0xF2F2F2|righticon=0xFFFFFF|text=0x357DCE|slider=0x357DCE|track=0xFFFFFF|border=0xFFFFFF|loader=0xAF2910|loop=no]

On the hole I don't enjoy Destroyer's new album, Trouble in Dreams, more than his previous release, Destroyer's Rubies. But this particular song is just fucking awesome. It begins with a classic Yo La Tengo-styled vamp before building to an amazing atmospheric bridge. What a great tune.

Destroyer — "My Favourite Year"

[audio http://www.fileden.com/files/2008/9/25/2114682/Destroyer%20-%20My%20Favourite%20Year.mp3|leftbg=0x357DCE|rightbg=0xF06A51|rightbghover=0xAF2910|righticon=0xF2F2F2|lefticon=0xF2F2F2|righticon=0xFFFFFF|text=0x357DCE|slider=0x357DCE|track=0xFFFFFF|border=0xFFFFFF|loader=0xAF2910|loop=no]

I've only listened to the new Brightblack Morning Light album a couple times, and so far it hasn't grabbed hold of me quite in the same way their Matador debut of two year's ago did. But this song encapsulates their hippie-psych-soul sound to a T. The dreamy piano and organ melding together with sax and high hat. And the dual vocals of Nathan Shineywater and Rachael Hughes backed by accompanying singers. Delicious.

Brightblack Morning Light — "Oppressions Each"

[audio http://www.fileden.com/files/2008/9/25/2114682/Brightblack%20Morning%20Light%20-%20Oppressions%20Each.mp3|leftbg=0x357DCE|rightbg=0xF06A51|rightbghover=0xAF2910|righticon=0xF2F2F2|lefticon=0xF2F2F2|righticon=0xFFFFFF|text=0x357DCE|slider=0x357DCE|track=0xFFFFFF|border=0xFFFFFF|loader=0xAF2910|loop=no]

The new No Age record, Nouns, is more song-oriented and generally less caustic than their debut. It's also considerably rooted in the '90s, to my ears at least. While their noisy debut had hints of pre-Slanted and Enchanted Pavement, this record reminds me much more of British band Boyracer. This song, however, is total My Bloody Valentine bombast, and I love it.

No Age — "Sleeper Hold"

[audio http://www.fileden.com/files/2008/9/25/2114682/No%20Age%20-%20Sleeper%20Hold.mp3|leftbg=0x357DCE|rightbg=0xF06A51|rightbghover=0xAF2910|righticon=0xF2F2F2|lefticon=0xF2F2F2|righticon=0xFFFFFF|text=0x357DCE|slider=0x357DCE|track=0xFFFFFF|border=0xFFFFFF|loader=0xAF2910|loop=no]

TV on the Radio's new record is so good and so approachable, which surprised me. For example, I found myself taken aback by the funk guitar on this track. So. So. Good.

TV on the Radio — "Crying"

[audio http://www.fileden.com/files/2008/9/25/2114682/TV%20on%20the%20Radio%20-%20Crying.mp3|leftbg=0x357DCE|rightbg=0xF06A51|rightbghover=0xAF2910|righticon=0xF2F2F2|lefticon=0xF2F2F2|righticon=0xFFFFFF|text=0x357DCE|slider=0x357DCE|track=0xFFFFFF|border=0xFFFFFF|loader=0xAF2910|loop=no]

I leave you with a couple forthcoming releases due to drop a week from today. I doubt I'll buy Megapuss' debut on Vapor (Neil Young's label). The duo of Devendra Banhart and Greg Rogove have provided some comic relief with their live performances, and the two songs I've heard from Surfing are enjoyable enough, but hardly necessary.

Megapuss — "A Gun On His Hip and a Rose On His Chest"

[audio http://www.fileden.com/files/2008/9/25/2114682/Megapuss-A%20Gun%20On%20His%20Hip%20and%20a%20Rose%20On%20His%20Chest.mp3|leftbg=0x357DCE|rightbg=0xF06A51|rightbghover=0xAF2910|righticon=0xF2F2F2|lefticon=0xF2F2F2|righticon=0xFFFFFF|text=0x357DCE|slider=0x357DCE|track=0xFFFFFF|border=0xFFFFFF|loader=0xAF2910|loop=no]

Like Devendra, Antony and the Johnsons is an artist that doesn't leave much room for gray area; you either love him or hate him. I loved his 2005 debut, such a strange and moving piece of music, for the Secretly Canadian label. His new record seems to be in line with his last, as the other song I've heard from it is an emotive piano ballad. This song, however, is a lot different. The first half is essentially acapella, before Antony is joined by drums and skronking sax. Interesting.

Antony and the Johnsons — "Shake That Devil"

[audio http://www.fileden.com/files/2008/9/25/2114682/Antony%20and%20the%20Johnsons%20-%20Shake%20That%20Devil.mp3|leftbg=0x357DCE|rightbg=0xF06A51|rightbghover=0xAF2910|righticon=0xF2F2F2|lefticon=0xF2F2F2|righticon=0xFFFFFF|text=0x357DCE|slider=0x357DCE|track=0xFFFFFF|border=0xFFFFFF|loader=0xAF2910|loop=no]

Bonus: On the off chance that you haven't heard Fleet Foxes yet, here you go. They remind me of My Morning Jacket, if Jim James were more into Fairport Convention.

[audio http://www.fileden.com/files/2008/9/25/2114682/Fleet%20Foxes%20-%20Ragged%20Wood.mp3|leftbg=0x357DCE|rightbg=0xF06A51|rightbghover=0xAF2910|righticon=0xF2F2F2|lefticon=0xF2F2F2|righticon=0xFFFFFF|text=0x357DCE|slider=0x357DCE|track=0xFFFFFF|border=0xFFFFFF|loader=0xAF2910|loop=no]

Por si alguien no lo sabía, Will Oldham es algo como el guía espiritual de la mitad de la redacción de este blog, adivinen qué mitad. Oldham también es un maestro en esto del arte de hacer canciones, para muestra un botón. Su último disco de estudio como Bonnie 'Prince' Billy, Lie Down In The Light (Domino, 2008), está lleno de grandes muestras de este arte, y sin escarbar mucho en su carrera, enseguida salen piezas como 'I See a Darkness' o 'Love Comes To Me'. Oldham vive medio apartado del mundo y graba sus discos sin que su sello lo sepa siquiera. Él llega, se presenta, "oyes, tengo un disco nuevo" y se lo editan. Para los que aman su música, y más si son de Barcelona, esta actitud vital supone, en cambio, un problema. El hombre da los conciertos justos pero, por si fuera poco, este verano se pasó por Madrid y no por Barcelona. Ahora lo podíamos haber visto con su hermano en el Rockdelux Music Weekend, pero ya saben la historia...

Parece que el hombre tampoco graba muchos vídeos y todo lo que hay en YouTube son fragmentos de conciertos grabados con una cámara digital. Así pues, no tengo más remedio que dejarles su cara alegre y su cara triste de una forma un poco cutre. En primer lugar tienen 'You Want That Picture', de su último disco; es un diálogo campestre entre una pareja que se separa, con su punto triste y meláncolico pero que concluye en la superación y el optimismo de mirar hacia delante. En segundo lugar encontrarán 'I See a Darkness', quizás su tema estrella; 'I See a Darkness' es un mar de desesperación y sollozo y en él no se entrevé ningún atisbo de esperanza. Sensacional para una tarde nublada de otoño. Disfruten.

Tv on the Radio - Shout Me Out
Tv on the Radio - Red Dress
Okkervil River -  Starry Stairs
Okkervil River - Pop Lie
Amazon - Numero6

Name: KAWS (Brian Donnelly)
Age: 33
Occupation: Artist (painter, sculptor, designer)
Home base: Brooklyn
Retail standby: I stop by the book shop Spoonbill & Sugartown every few days.
Music venue: I'm not really a live music type of person but will try to check out N*E*R*D or Kanye whenever they perform in a city I'm in.
Music: My music tastes jump around a lot. I could just finish a Clipse album and then be in the mood to hear Bonnie Prince Billy or Birds of America.
Provisions: Fresh Direct (I don't leave my building much)
For gifts: I usually give people toys or products that I make, or I just make them something new.
Restaurant: I'm lucky to be up the street from Aurora and a few blocks from Peter Luger Steak House and Diner.
Drink: I'm easy to please, so whatever beer you have is fine.
Party central: Mr. West
Momentary style obsessions: It's not momentary: a black cap and T-shirt have been my go-to since I was 10.
Reading material: Lately I've been reading about the artist H.C. Westermann.
Art pick: I'm looking forward to Erik Parker's show at Paul Kasmin Gallery. I also really liked André Ethier's exhibition at Honor Fraser.
Museums: New Museum
Movie: Man on Wire, playing at the Sunshine Cinema, is great.
Vacation destination: If I can ever take a vacation, I would like to go back to St. Barts.
Something you are looking forward to for fall: Wearing sweaters and my exhibition at Gering & López Gallery.

KAWS's New York Neighborhood
Here are some of KAWS's favorite haunts in New York that he visits regularly. The map below is interactive; click on the blue markers to learn more about his spots.

[googlemaps http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?ie=UTF8&hl=en&s=AARTsJqzfv8l-8VYUpB5Q3olnOF_dxfW6A&msa=0&msid=103739794770934605257.000456f64a2b4ce77cd7e&ll=40.731909,-73.983135&spn=0.040975,0.068665&z=13&output=embed&w=400&h=315]

Read previous columns of The Insider here.

Here are some rather random pictures. Playlist making and Congress tour pass artwork.

Here comes Autumn, it's time to sit and you chair and stare at the TV square. With love leftover from lovers leaving Fabakis is ready for sub 90 degree temperatures and buying new vests! Today I leave you with a cd-length, beginning of Fall playlist (which will soon be a zip file so check back soon) to help ease you out of the long summer days. 

The "Autumn is Your Last Chance" playlist

1. Jens Lekman- It was a Strange Time in my Life

2. Girl Talk- Minute by Minute

3. Wilco- Not for the Season

4. Pavement- Easily Fooled

5. The Kinks- Stop your Sobbing

6. Neil Young-Harvest Moon

7. Wilco- She's a Jar (B-SIDE!!!) 

8. The Beta Band- Dry the Rain

9. Speechwriters llc- Echolocation

10. Robyn Hitchcock- Autumn is your Last Chance

11. Cat Power- Dark End of the Street (Black Sessions)

12. Iron & Wine- Love and Some Verses

13. Bonnie "Prince" Billy- May it Always be

14. The Kinks- Autumn Almanac

15. Sparklehorse- It's a Wonderful Life

16. Okkervil River- Starry Stairs

17. Broken Social Scene- 7/4 (Shoreline)

18. Pavement- Kennel District

19. ... And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead- After the Laughter

20. Bill Fox- My Baby Crying

Download here:

And now for the news...

-Detroit's Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick finally steps down.. Read more

-My amazon.com order should get here today!!!

This is an official campaign ad by The Obama Campaign that aired before Obama's speech in the Denver area that features The National's "Fake Empires" in the background. So good... I am such  a sucker for the  montage... 

-The Elephant six crew have decided to get together for a surprise tour this fall. Don't bother checking their website, it hasn't been updated since February. Here are the dates!
Elephant 6 Holiday Surprise Tour

10-09 Chapel Hill, NC - Local 506
10-11 New York, NY - Knitting Factory
10-12 Boston, MA - The Church
10-14 Portland, ME - Space Gallery
10-15 New Haven, CT - The Space
10-16 Purchase, NY - SUNY Purchase
10-17 Rochester, NY- The Bug Jar
10-18 Pittsburgh, PA - Brillobox
10-19 Columbus, OH - Wexner Center
10-20 Pontiac, MI - Crofoot Pike Room
10-21 Chicago, IL - Bottom Lounge
10-22 Bloomington, IN - Cinemat
10-23 Lexington, KY - University of Kentucky

What's playing today in my car? 

Pavement- Wowee Zowee 

The Kinks-The Kinks Story vol. 1

Bonnie "Prince" Billy- Ease Down the Road

"And then I see a darkness
And then I see a darkness
And then I see a darkness
And then I see a darkness
And did you know how much I love you
is a hope that somehow you, you
can save me from this darkness."

From "I See A Darkness" by Bonnie "Prince" Billy

Continuing the thread from my previous post, I have been thinking of the symbolism of marriage vows as a reflection of our journey of faith.  I recognise that writing on this topic may risk alienating those who aren't married but long to be, those who have experienced bad or broken marriages or those who view marriage as outdated.  Hopefully, this isn't just some trite musing from a smug, happily-married, thirty-something, so please stick with me...

A few short months after making our own marriage vows, life came off the rails.  We'd been going out for five years before we tied the knot and there was no pre-cursor or warning of the illness that would befall upon my wife.  She has written about it briefly and honestly on her own blog here.

That chapter was probably the lowest point in my life and I wasn't the one suffering ill health.  I was young, trying to provide for my wife and I, trying to get good at my job, commuting daily to and from Glasgow, working for a really difficult boss (who incidentally is the only Christian I have ever worked under).  The post-viral fatigue got worse and my wife had to quit her job and just rest.  There was a period of about 18 months when life just felt precariously balanced and constantly teetering - as if it could crash around us at any second. 

Life involved leaving the flat at 6.30 or so in the morning with my wife asleep and not knowing what I was returning to - whether or not she'd made it out of bed, whether she's blacked out and fallen down the stairs again.  From a meagre combined income, we ended up on an even more meagre single salary and that brought its own strains.  I couldn't understand why this was happening and I was angry at God and felt mislead, confused, impatient, weary and exhausted.

I discovered that I could relate to the lyrics from some of my favourite songs more than I had ever wanted to. 

"I'm checking your pulse 'cause you're so quiet
I'm kissing you but you don't feel it
Why do you do this to me?
Showing me all that I'm good for
Is to watch you sleep as lifeless as an angel"

From "Why Won't You Stay?" by American Music Club

or

"So much that I can say to you
with affection that I burn inside.
You're aching from the distance
avoiding strain that's running still alive.
If only i could heal you in the sprinkling of the ocean side
but then you'd know how much I really love you"

From "Drop" by Red House Painters

It's funny how God brings people into your life at different times.  I'd not played my drums regularly since leaving home and I missed that lots.  I was asked to stand in on drums at a combined church youth event called Powerpoint in Edinburgh one Friday night.  That led to a regular monthly slot and it was great just to be able to play my heart out on my drums, to get some release and to not hold back and to be somehow praising God in amongst it all.  Prior to that playing drums in any worship context had always felt so second rate to playing in the band I used to play with. 

The church we still go to was very different in those days.  My wife and I really struggled with the style of music at our own church, although we felt we were meant to be there.  Powerpoint, whilst being an event aimed at churched teenagers, was a breath of fresh air for me. 

The guy who lead the Powerpont praise band, Andy, can only have been about 18 or 19 back then, but he had a wise head on young shoulders.  He would regularly provide me with mix tapes of worship songs so that I could learn the drum parts.  Those tapes became a lifeline on those dreary journeys back and forth on the M8.  As I practiced the drum fills on my steering wheel, my mind was taken off my own situation and my eyes and heart refocused and lifted upwards.

During that time I discovered probably my favourite "praise and worship" (for want of a better moniker) album - Kevin Prosch's "Reckless Mercy".  It sounds so unlike most of the stuff filling the racks of CDs in typical Christian bookstores.  It is just the sound of someone broken and dependent on God.  When I hear the sobs in the line , "Hear our cry for help, O Lord.  Do not hide your face from us.  We are in need" - it reminds me so much of those days enveloped in darkness.  When I hear the joy of the piano bashing on "All I Need" from that album it feeds my soul even still.

Thankfully we came out the other side of that experience.  I still don't cope at all well when the slightest signs of post viral syndrome return.  It's something that I think will always haunt me, but I don't have those recurring dreams anymore when I was just at the end of my tether and tired of life.

I guess it is human nature to seek an answer as to why certain things happen in our lives.  I can't say that I have ever found an answer as to why my wife and I still have this thorn in our side that presses back in from time to time.  Even as I write this post, I suppose I realise that had I not hit those low points I may not have found a dependency on God in that broken and hurting place when all the props are gone.  I doubt whether I would have discovered such a connection to some of the music I love nor found such a desire to help lead people into an appreciation of the character of God through music, whether that be through leading music times at our church or through exploring things on this blog. 

Let's not kid ourselves that life is easy as soon as we commit ourselves to God.  That has not always been my experience and I doubt whether it has really been yours.  I don't believe that is what Jesus taught.  After all, the example he provides led to a cross.  We are commanded to pick up our own cross and I wonder how often we ask what that means for us personally?  How often do we moan and gripe about the circumstances we find ourselves in?  Maybe we need to be honest with ourselves and honest with God in the good times every bit as much as in the tough times.  Maybe we need to tell ourselves again and again that He is faithful even when we can't make sense of where we find ourselves.  In that light, doesn't the story of the Exodus and the wandering in the desert for those seemingly barren years seem all the more poignant and allegorical?

Além disso, tal repetição realmente gera familiaridade, comunidade - uma canção decorada e cantada por todas as pessoas de um mesmo grupo tende a servir como um fator de coerência social. No blues, por exemplo, as estruturas repetidas por virtualmente todas as canções se prefiguram através de uma forma de resistência à dominação cultural branca imposta sobre os escravos. Conceitos como originalidade e autenticidade foram importados ao rock e à música pop através da tradição clássica européia.

Não falo do novo que é simples imitação. Falo de "For Every Field There's a Mole", canção de Lie Down the Light, novo álbum de Will Oldham (sob a alcunha de Bonnie "Prince" Billy). A canção é inédita, e quando se ouve, a sensação é a de que já somos antigos conhecidos dela. Não parece plágio, não soa como "ahh, tinha aquela, daquele cara, como era o nome mesmo?". Soa como se ela viesse do fundo das nossas cabeças e, na medida em que a ouvimos, ela vai sendo lembrada - mesmo que nunca tenha sido ouvida antes.

Os junguianos tomariam esse fenômeno como um exemplo do inconsciente coletivo, assim como Platão falaria do "arquétipo da canção" que mora no "mundo das idéias" e o mais cético diria que é um plágio inconsciente, para o ouvinte e o suposto plagiador.

Eu prefiro o mistério, prefiro navegar por entre a neblina das minhas próprias não-memórias, prefiro a sensação que eu tenho quando a progressão de acordes, a percussão e a voz sutil e evocativa de Will Oldham me despertam para o meu sonho.

Porque a melhor música funciona desse jeito - como algo que te une a quem a produziu e a quem produziu toda e qualquer música. Ou seja, a melhor música é a que te une ao mundo em si, não importa se uma canção, sinfonia ou canto de passarinho.

"For Every Field There's a Mole" é uma canção que só pode ter sido escrita por alguém que entende esse sentimento. "Para todo homem que sobreviverá/ Não há nada que ele não possa superar/ Nem obstáculo que ele não possa apagar/ Para cada rei há uma coroa/ E sempre que eu olho à minha volta/ Sou o rei do infinito espaço".

Um Hammond e um clarinete alternam-se entre as estrofes, tecendo melodias delicadas, que envolvem o ouvinte numa mistura de enlevo, calor e familiaridade. No mesmo tom de profeta em transe, a quem mais interessa falar a verdade que alertar e amaldiçoar os outros mortais, Oldham vê a Terra ferver - mesmo sabendo que "para cada seca há uma chuva".

Na última estrofe entram novas vozes, e a harmonia convida o ouvinte a cantar também. As palavras têm um único sentido (aquele que você mesmo dá a elas), e o cantar em si é o significado - a comunicação é mais importante que o conteúdo. "Há um tempo para cantar estas coisas/ E há um tempo para tê-las cantado/ Há um tampo para se trazer a canção/ E um tempo para se tê-la trazido/ Há um colo para a cabeça que descansa/ Há uma única cama para se aninhar/ Há almas para serem choradas/ Pelas coisas que não foram cantadas/ E uma mão para segurar a garganta/ E dissipar o soluço do pranto".

O ouvinte sabe do que se fala mesmo sem compreender a língua - e não seria difícil alguém ver chorando apenas pela beleza. Agora vá, diz o profeta. Pegue esta canção e faça dela tua, e da tua canção faz o próprio mundo. Porque "no princípio era o Verbo, e o Verbo estava com Deus, e o Verbo era Deus. Todas as coisas foram feitas por ele, e sem ele nada do que foi feito se fez".

Two things became clear after I spent a day with my grandmother last week: I have beautiful teeth, and I am her favorite niece.

Todd Rundgren_Couldn't I Just Tell You

My grandmother, Ardel, lives in Ocean City, at the Memory Unit of the Shores at Wesley Manor, and she grew up during the Depression, in a poor family that did not have enough money for regular dentist trips. Teeth are important, the specifics of familial relations have become less so.

The Flanders Hotel, Ocean City, NJ (1992)

I walked into the Shores and the woman at the front desk beamed at me: proudly, I’d imagine. I signed in. The lady kept beaming and gave me an extensive set of directions based on hallway color that I promptly forgot. As far as I was concerned, the color of each hallway was “pastel”.

I made my way, appropriately enough, by memory, to the Memory Unit, which seems to have a remarkably rudimentary security system, until it occurs to you that the people it is supposed to be securing have remarkably rudimentary cognitive abilities. I opened one glass-paned door and let it close slowly behind me. I was in a small foyer that is supposed to trap—securely—patients who have figured out one of the doors but forgotten that they wanted to figure out the next.

The first door closed, and I pressed the code for the second. One-two-three-four. That is the code to all the doors in the memory unit. The nurses tell their patients this, the patients appreciate the nurses’ confidence, and then the patients promptly forget the entire exchange. Goodwill prevails.

Ocean Boulevard, Deal, NJ (1985)

Once the second door had wheezed open, I was standing in the middle of recreation hour: a bony, middle-aged man was pounding away at Rogers and Hammerstein on a cheap upright and twelve eighty-somethings were staring at him, mouths agape. I made my way to my grandmother, tentative and mindful of the tantrums my preschool students threw when their parents came in the middle of story time.

“Grandmom?” I whispered, hunching over because maybe that would insult the pianist and the wheelchair-bound less, “Hi, Grandmom! It’s Emma!”

Her eyes, bluer than ever, blinked.

“Hi?” I offered again, kneeling down next to her.

“Oh, Emma!” I wasn’t sure if she’d processed my face or what I’d said my name was, but I took it.

“My favorite niece!” she hissed. “Granddaughter!” I hissed back. We squeezed hands.

“I’m here to visit you!” I whispered. I looked at her lap and grimaced inadvertently. On a flowered napkin, she was holding something like a Rice Krispie treat on steroids, all kinds of gunky cereal gummed together with chocolate candy and then frosted.

My grandmother saw me looking and leaned over to me, “What am I eating?”

“Grandmom,” I said, “I have no idea.”

A nurse had been hovering over us for a few seconds, so I turned and shook her hand. “I’m Emma,” I said. “Ardel’s granddaughter,” I said, loud enough so that Ardel herself could hear it.

“Of course,” said the nurse, a wide hipped young blond woman who looked like everyone in Ocean City, which is to say, a former lifeguard. The nurse glanced over her shoulder at the piano. I asked her where we should go; I didn’t want to interrupt enrichment time. She nodded, “you can go to her room.”

I looked at my grandmother, who was gazing at the nurse and I with utter unconcern. I decided to ask, “Where is her room, again?” not sure where the line was between being polite and getting lost in another pastel hallway.

“She knows,” said the nurse, and I was surprised.

Point Pleasant Boardwalk, NJ (1988)

My grandmother and I made our way slowly to the elevator, both half remembering from our most recent trips, each of which felt like it had been months earlier.

“Emma!” she exclaimed. “I can’t believe you’re here!”

“Well,” I shrugged, “I am!”

“Did I know you were coming?”

I hadn’t expected that. “Well, no,” I said. “It’s a surprise, I guess. So, surprise!” That line made her laugh a few times throughout the day. When I next go to see her, I think I will call ahead, because there’s no reason not to make her happy on a Monday and then surprise her eight times during the same Tuesday afternoon.

We got to her room, a stoveless studio with a railing in the bathroom, and her coffee table was covered with papers. Tiny scraps of note paper, opened and unopened greeting cards, half-finished word games, the Philadelphia Inquirer and the Atlantic City Press. I was ready to tell her I didn’t mind the mess, but she never apologized for it. When I wondered what she’d been reading she said she didn’t know, so I read her a headline.

“Bernanke, Frank Form Improbable Alliance Over Subprime Crisis. Uh, well. I don’t even really know.” I faltered but I was heartened to see my grandmother looking at me with mild curiosity. I scanned the article, “Oh, Barney Frank?” Barney Frank is the first openly gay member of the House. On her most lucid day my grandmother would have needed me to explain “gay”. “Well, Barney Frank, huh. It’s basically about the Fed. Ben Bernanke is the Chairman of the Federal Reserve. And subprime, it’s houses, houses that were sold—”

My grandmother beamed at me, “you have such beautiful teeth!”

“Thank you,” I said, and I meant it. “I came to visit today, Grandmom, well, because I love you—”

“I love you!” she said, almost desperately.

“I love you, too, so I came to tell you that, but also because I’m going to law school.”

“You are?” She was wide-eyed, and more aggressively complementary than I remembered. “See, you’re so smart. You can do anything.”

“Well, I guess, then, let’s hope I can do law school?”

“You have such beautiful teeth.”

“Thank you, Grandmom.”

I told her more about law school, about living in Brooklyn—“you like that?” she kept asking. “You like being in the city?”

“I do,” I told her. “I am sad to be leaving.”

“Where are you going?” she’d ask. My favorite line from the Sarah Kane play, Crave, is “Begin again.”

“Where are you going?” My grandmother asked. Law school. Begin again.

I started to think that I liked this, the constant chance for self-editing, the circular conversation. I started to have fun revising my answers in order to fit in everything that was true. Sometimes I was sad to leave New York, the city where everything happens; sometimes, I told her, my world in Brooklyn was insufferably self-important. Sometimes I mainly biked around the city, sometimes I used the subway every day. I had a boyfriend; I had a lot of very close friends. I was a writer; I was working on research for someone else’s book. I would come see her again soon, I had no idea if I would see her again at all. The last part is the only truth I could not fit in.

Neil Young_Truth Be Known

Finally I looked out the window. “You know, Grandmom, I was hoping we could go to the boardwalk this afternoon, but when I called and told someone here that I wanted to take you, he said the weather was ‘iffy.’ Isn’t that funny? Like I might show up and there might be no weather at all? Or something?”

She beamed at me, eyes blue and clear.

I continued. “And the weather doesn’t look so great. Which is I guess what he was saying. Heh. But, oh, would you like to go out, anyway? We don’t have to go to the boardwalk, but do you want to go for a drive? Do you want to go for a drive and have ice cream?”

My grandmother chuckled in a disconcertingly knowing way. “You know I love ice cream.”

I had not known that, but I loved that she knew it. “I love ice cream, too!” I said. It came as a relief. I have never felt like I had much in common with my grandmother, who spent her time gambling in Atlantic City and play pinochle after dinner. She left high school before she’d graduated, and I have never seen her reading a book. (Newspapers, of course, yes.)

“Should I wear a sweater?” she asked, anxiously. Since my grandmother developed Alzheimer’s disease several years ago her main preoccupation is her personal body temperature. Hot and cold are immediate sensations, and “too hot” and “too cold” are reassuringly basic emotions. The temperature was in the mid-eighties, but my grandmother is a frail woman in her mid-eighties, too, and I told her she should probably bring a sweater.

At the ice cream store, my grandmother looked around vacantly. “The flavors are there,” I pointed, and she laughed in her “you know I love ice cream” way. I asked the young, equally vacant looking server the name of a certain brown flavor, veined with cookies and fudge. “It’s coffee moose peanut caramel blah blah blah,” I heard her respond, and then I heard my grandmother say, “Ooh, that sounds good.”

I turned to her. “Does it? What do you usually get? Do you usually get, like, vanilla?” I recognized the absurdity of my question, and I said, “Okay, then. One of those. Cup.” I ordered vanilla for myself. Things seemed calmer that way.

Tent City, Ocean Grove, NJ (1991)

We ate at a bench outside and, during one of my particularly messy slurps, my grandmother said, “You have beautiful teeth.” Afterwards we went on a drive, south through the narrow, salt-crusted towns of Strathmere and Avalon, and I played the new Bonnie Prince Billy. Bonnie Prince Billy writes haunted, raw, oversexualized folk. It is the most poignant and most instructive love making music I can imagine. My favorite Bonnie Billy song is called “The Mountain Low” and includes the lyric, “If I could fuck a mountain, Lord, I would fuck a mountain.” My grandmother said she liked it.

It was getting late, and the Memory Unit begins serving supper at four-thirty, so I turned the car around in Avalon. My grandmother started asking me where we were, and I continued telling her.

“Do I live here?”

“Well, you live north of here. In Ocean City. This is Avalon.”

“I live in Ocean City? Does my husband live with me?”

Her husband, formerly known as my grandfather. “He doesn’t live with you anymore, Grandmom. He died.”

She was already nodding. “He died. And what—” I knew what was coming. I answered this question no less than forty times on the day of my grandfather’s funeral, “and what did he die of?”

“I don’t know, Grandmom. Nobody knows. It was just his time.”

She nodded and stared at her hands folded in her lap. “He wasn’t sick, was he?”

“No, he wasn’t sick.” I preempted her next question, “you would have known if he were sick.”

The Walkmen_Passing Through [Daytrotter Session]

All of the visitor parking spots were full, and it took us forever in the hot afternoon sun to walk back into The Shores. My grandmother had both knees replaced about ten years ago, but forgot to do the necessary rehabilitation exercises. The long walk hurt her more than I’d realized it would, and as we got back into the elevator she looked at me and said, “Is it supposed to hurt this much?”

I could feel my face crumble and I looked at the wall so she would not see my tears. One of the hardest things about treating senile or otherwise cognitively impaired patients is understanding what “this much” means. It’s possible—and her doctor believes—that my grandmother’s knees have been hurting “this much” for a decade. I swallowed and turned back to her, “I don’t know how much they’re supposed to hurt. Let’s tell the nurses about it.”

When the head nurse, JoAnn, asked about our day, I told her. After I was done, my grandmother clutched my arm and announced, “This is my favorite niece!”

“Thank you,” I said.

When we went into her room I made clear that I would need to leave shortly. I didn’t want that to be a surprise, too. My grandmother alternated between wondering why I’d ever bothered to come see her at all and making sure I’d promise to come again. She started crying and I put my arm around her. “I need to blow my nose before I kiss you goodbye,” she said.

I sat on her bed and watched her make her way, carefully, into the bathroom. She shuffled to the tissue box. I was exhausted. She shuffled to the sink to wash her hands. I leaned against the wall. She sniffed again, and shuffled to the tissue box. Then she shuffled back to the sink wash her hands. Tissue box. Sink. Tissue box. Sink. Tissue box. Sink. Tissue box. Sink. Tissue box.

Begin again.

I watched and waited, breathing deeply. After a “sink,” I said, “Grandmom? I have to go now.” I wondered how frequently a nurse had come to call her for dinner and found her doing laps in the bathroom: tissue box, sink.

At the door, we hugged for a very long time. She said, “My hands are clean. You know I wouldn’t touch you if my hands weren’t clean.”

And I said, “Grandmom, I know you wouldn’t.”

Steel Pier, Atlantic City, NJ (1982)

[All pictures in the post are from the Library of Congress collection, "Built in America, 1933-present," a project of the Historic American Buildings Survey.]

In the extract published on Pitchfork, Petrusich quotes Will Oldham in a rare interview with The Observer from 2002. Despite owning a significant amount of his body of work, I've always found Oldham to be an enigmatic artist who leaves me wondering what's going on (perhaps wrongly) behind that mighty beard. The article only serves to reinforce his elusiveness:

'I do not want a personal relationship with my fans,' he says matter-of-factly. 'Or to do anything that encourages them to think they have one with me. They can have a personal relationship with my songs. That's fine, but they don't know me. Likewise the idea that they can get to know me through an interview. That's an absurd notion.'

Maybe that's why Oldham's music continues to be essential, because it continues to buck the trend of a carefully managed image being critical to an artist's success. This year's Lay Down in the Light was released to the minimum of fanfare: you buy a Bonnie 'Prince' Billy album for the songs, nothing else. Plus a little mystery never hurts.

Petrusich's book is out now in the US and available as an import at Amazon. For further insight into the book, check out Largehearted Boy's Book Notes feature, where the author picks songs relevant to her work.

The Bonnie 'Prince' Billy live album, Is It the Sea? (with Harem Scarem and Alex Nielsen) is out 20 October on Domino.

Video: Bonnie 'Prince' Billy - I Gave You

It seems like it’s hard to go a week without finding some news on Will Oldham. But, just like all Oldham news past, this latest development is just as exciting. This fall, Will and his two brothers Ned and Paul are releasing an EP of original tunes…sure to delight, of course. I know by this point you might think that I have some mp3’s to share with you…but like usual, I’ll have to disappoint. But! I do have the incredible artwork for the project, as well as a video to wet the appetites for all things Oldham.

From the artist, Kevin E. Taylor:

“I recently finished the artwork for an upcoming Oldham Brothers EP release due out sometime in the fall. The brothers wanted to give a nod to Francisco Goya’s etching series, “Los Caprichos“. I really liked the idea, since I’ve always observed some similarity (if I may be so bold) in theme, subject matter, and general darkness amongst our images. Presumably, it’s a Spanish release, so I’m not sure about availability as of yet, but if you’re a fan like me, you’ll track it down. I’m really honored and excited to have the opportunity to work with the Brothers, as I’m most certain that they embody some of the finest song writing happening today.”

Also, in other exciting news, Drag City is going to be releasing Bonnie 'Prince' Billy's classic album I See a Darkness as well as Palace Music's 1995 album Viva Last Blues. ON VINYL. Keep your eyes on the Drag City website for release info!

=tyler=

In 1998, Korine directed Sonic Youth's Sunday. It was mega exiting at the time because we hadn't seen mad Macaulay Culkin in forever! I remember reading about the video in Kerrang! Magazine (of which I was a devotee - ordering it in from my suburban newsagents every Wednesday), and trying to download it from my 56k dial-up connection. (We never - and still don't - have cable tv, so music videos have always had an air of excitement for me, due to their scarcity on my life. On a side note - I remember doing the same thing when black metaller-turned director, Jonas Åkerlund made the excellent=but MTV-banned video for The Prodigy's Smack My Bitch Up.

Kerrang! loved that one.

Anyway - here's Korine's Sunday video, with narration by Sonic Youth. Incidentally, made three years beofore Culkin made Party Monster with Korine's ex, Chore Sevigny. (I love her. But who do I adore more? Her or Harmony?)

Below see Korine's vid for old pal, Bonnie Prince Billy (aka Will Oldham): No More Workhouse Blues

Here's his old drinking buddy's Chan Marshall's Living Proof vid:

Oh and interestingly, in a 1999 Dazed & Confused magazine article Korine listed his top ten films as: Hector Babenco, Badlands and Days of Heaven by Terrence Malick, Fat City by John Huston, Stroszek by Werner Herzog, The Killing of a Chinese Bookie, A Woman Under the Influence by John Cassavetes, McCabe and Mrs. Miller by Robert Altman, Out of the Blue by Dennis Hopper and Hail Mary by Jean-Luc Godard.

The reason Linda Manz is cast in Gummo is 'cause Harmo loves her so much in Hopper's Out of The Blue and Malick's Days Of Heaven.

The first half of the year has again sped by in a flash, and despite occasional protestations to the contrary I can't resist the list-making urge, so here are the fifteen releases that most caught the ear in the first six months of 2008.

Bonnie 'Prince' Billy : "Lie Down In The Light" (Drag City/Domino)

The Brian Jonestown Massacre : "My Bloody Underground" (A Records)

The Bug : "London Zoo" (Ninja Tune)

Earth : "The Bees Made Honey In The Lion's Skull" (Southern Lord/Daymare)

Fuck Buttons : "Street Horrrsing" (ATP/R)

Lo Dubs presents "Analog Clash" (Lo Dubs/Anthem)

Lustmord : "Other" (Hydra Head/Daymare)

Nadja : "Skin Turns To Glass" (The End)

Our Brother The Native : "Make Amends For We Are Merely Vessels" (Fat Cat)

Portishead : "Third" (Go! Discs)

Sixteen Horsepower : "Live March 2001" (Glitterhouse)

These New Puritans : "Beat Pyramid" (Domino)

Thom Yorke : "The Eraser Rmxs" (XL)

Torche : "Meanderthal" (Hydra Head)

Ufomammut : "Idolum" (Supernatural Cat)

 
Moving to the Netherlands has by no means restricted access to ear-and-mind-blowingly good live music (and then there were the three days of aural pleasure in Barcelona). I've tried to write about most of it, but these slipped through the cracks...

 
Vic Chesnutt w/ A Silver Mt. Zion @ Paradiso, Amsterdam (13-Feb-2008)

Chesnutt is a songwriters' songwriter, lauded by his peers around the world, but 2007's "North Star Deserter" was the first time I'd been exposed to his darkly humourous confessionals on death & wanting to bring it closer. His 'backing band' on that album - most of A Silver Mt. Zion and Fugazi's Guy Picciotto - are here tonight, throwing up squalls of howling Godspeed guitar and giving added pathos to Vic's songs with mournful strings. After a rendition of "Debriefing" that threatens to blow the stained-glass out of the windows of this old church, they encore with a haunting "Ruby Tuesday", Vic then remaining alone on stage to close, appropriately enough, with "Over".

Here is a recording of "Ruby Tuesday" performed at The Button Factory, Dublin, Ireland on 01 Dec 2007. The whole show, courtesy of David Bell, is available at Internet Archive.

Vic Chesnutt & A Silver Mt. Zion - Ruby Tuesday (live)

[audio http://narcoagent.files.wordpress.com/2008/08/vic-chesnutt-a-silver-mt-zion-ruby-tuesday-live.mp3]

Earth @ Effenaar, Eindhoven (07-Mar-2008)

Hearing the pure tone of Dylan Carlson's Telecaster ring out at a volume where the drone can be felt as well as heard is thrilling (thanks must go in part to the Effenaar's good sound setup). The opener "Hung From The Moon" is aptly-named - the notes hang in the air, the band's slow-motion playing evoking a pagan ritual performed under a ghostly moon. Where once Earth was a solo mission, now Carlson is orbited by a stellar set of fellow cosmonauts - Adrienne Davies's drumming verges on stasis but is precise & powerful, Don McGreevy adds planet-weight low end, and although Steve Moore's Wurlitzer keys and trombone blasts could nudge the whole enterprise towards the dreaded blackhole that is j&*z, he fortunately steers a more psychedelic course. "Ouroboros Is Broken", introduced by Carlson as the first song he ever wrote, is a monolithic juggernaut, Carlson sometimes holding his guitar aloft as though it were an offering to the gods. Support act Sir Richard Bishop joins the band onstage to add his Eastern-inflected guitar to "The Bees Ate Honey From The Lion's Skull", before they end this performance (and this tour) with the encore of "Coda Maestoso in F-flat Minor", like "Ouroboros..." another early song reworked in the new Earth aesthetic.

Here is "Ouroboros Is Broken", live at the Point Ephémère, Paris (17 Feb 2006), taken from the "Live Europe 2006" disc.

Earth - Ouroboros Is Broken (live)
[audio http://narcoagent.files.wordpress.com/2008/08/earth-ouroboros-is-broken-live.mp3]

The Cure @ Ahoy, Rotterdam (18-Mar-2008)

The current incarnation of the Cure looks a lot like one of the first, a stripped down rock band that delivers a guitar-heavy take on over 30 years of Robert Smith's superlative songwriting. With no keyboard player, some of the keyboard parts are instead replicated by guitarist Porl Thomson, giving those songs an interesting twist. After a "Disintegration"-laden set, they treat us to three extended encores, the second drawn exclusively from "Three Imaginary Boys" and the first singles. To my delight (in a gloomy gothy kinda way of course) they finish (after playing for over three hours!) with my two favourite Cure songs - "Faith" and "A Forest".

These New Puritans @ Paradiso, Amsterdam (06-May-2008)

On my first exposure to TNP (supporting Liars in London last year) I wrote them off as nothing more than youthfully energetic Fall copyists, but then "Beat Pyramid" (with its arcana-referencing distillation of the best of early 80s post-punk) became one of my favourite albums of the year. They deliver on the magicks of the album live, their frenetic set unfortunately cut short by the Paradiso's sloppy scheduling. Check out some video clips from the show here.

Butthole Surfers @ Melkweg, Amsterdam (15-Jul-2008)

OK so I went off them when they took the honourable Touch and Go to court, but there was no chance of me passing up the opportunity to see the original Buttholes line-up play again for the first time since the 80s. Being joined by 'the kids from the School of Rock ' lent an air of parody to it all, but they played their best songs, Gibby the megaphone-toting headmaster directing proceedings from behind the amazing Gibbytronix, and fuck it if Paul Leary ain't one of the best goddamn guitarists I've had the pleasure of hearing (and now witnessing).

A live recording of their show at the Forum in London a couple of weeks later is available for purchase here.

'The Letting Go' reminds me terribly of Nostalgia, the Andrei Tarkovsky film. I think it's the backing vocals that so resemble the song of the Swedish goatherdress.

What I really love about this simple little track is the lyricism:

'Oh love, oh love/Oh careless love/I only want to lay with you/my love, my love, my careful love/I found the hard way love is true'.

The less said about it the better.

This record (The Letting Go) took a year for its loveliness to burgeon. Though, for now, it's fine just to sit with this record and soak up those lovely little bits.

Bonnie 'Prince' Billy - Wai

Well, this is Will Oldham's strictly country album if ever there was one.  And if you snuck a peek at the rating I gave this album, then you probably think my number is up, that Lie Down in the Light has me – to quote The Tao of Steve – “basking in the warm glow of [my own] annihilating contempt.”  But here’s the rub: this record didn’t make me realise the merit of country music as a genre.  It did the exact opposite.  After listening to Lie Down in the Light, I hate every other country artist even more than I did before I heard this record.  Why?  Because none of them – not a single goddamned one of them – have fulfilled the potential that the genre affords.  This record explores every niche and corner of the country aesthetic – touching on its sparest acoustic melancholy with “Easy Does It” or “Willow Trees Bend”, as well as the more urgent side of country, as modeled by the driving electric fingerpicking “Where is the Puzzle”, or the incalculable value of harmonies, as modeled by the title track.

But it’s still Bonnie “Prince” Billy, the same impressive feats of songcraft abound.  “For Every Field There’s a Mole” boasts a lead oboe part that somehow (and I’m convinced only Oldham could pull it off) manages to sound natural and not gimmicky.  “You Want That Picture” adopts the same dialogic structure that Colin Meloy and Laura Veirs employed on “Yankee Bayonet (I Will Be Home Then)”, but it’s more compelling – a contemporary (actually, timeless) tale of bitter ex-lovers who relish their spite only insofar as it provides an escape from their loneliness.  Oldham’s take on it comes with more gravitas and sincerity than Meloy’s did.  It’s a sort of heart-on-sleeve vulnerability and accessibility that is refreshing, especially for this artist.

Oldham because is not, bless him, renowned for his straightforwardness.  His previous releases are cryptic and dense, consistently requiring the listener to meet him halfway.  If you want to get a lot (or much at all) out of most Bonnie ”Prince” Billy albums, you have to put a fair amount into it yourself.  But Lie Down in the Light will come to you, offering only a corn-fed intimacy and warmth; this is a record that is satisfying even in spite of its unflinching docility.

I thought country music this listenable and compelling died with Johnny Cash, but by the sound of it, Will Oldham’s decided to carry the torch, keeping country alive and vital for another generation.  With regard to the potential of country music, he's made a believer out of this sceptic.  As for mainstream country, this record is a more strident indictment of the status quo than are the haughty, bilious ramblings of a hundred hipster rock snobs.  Who knew?

8.4 / 10.0

If you're already going to be attending the Festival in the Forest that we're putting on with (((folkYEAH))), DO. NOT. MISS. the amazing show that's occuring the same weekend, just a mile down the street, the day after the Festival concludes. Definitely make the vision quest down to the Henry Miller Library on Sunday, September 28!

Dersom du har litt vanskelig for å trenge gjennom Bonnie «Prince» Billys relativt krevende musikalske univers så kan dette muligens være nøkkelen som åpner stengte dører. Gjennom en nærmest overveldende jevn serie hyppige utgivelser har han sakte men sikkert bygget seg opp som en av de vesentligste låtskriverne innen den amerikanske country/folk/singer-songwriter-sfæren.

Denne gangen er prinsen både mindre høytidelig og innadvendt enn han har hatt for vane å være - grunntonen her er faktisk omtrent like håpefull og kjærlighetsblussende lyseblå som omslaget. Det betyr ikke at dette er en festplate, men det er definitivt nok et vitnesbyrd om det enorme talentet som bor i denne mannen.

Sjekk utlånssatus og reserver denne platen på drammensbiblioteket.no

• This is the only album I've heard of Billy's other than his classic I See A Darkness, which was around a decade ago.  It is said that Lie Down In The Light is the counterpart to that, what with the former being about darkness and despair, and the latter being all about the affirmation of life and such.  This one isn't quite up to snuff, but it's still very good in its own right.
• Will Oldham, AKA Bonnie "Prince" Billy, has a voice that has so many quirks that I often wonder if he could possibly sing the way he does intentionally.  It just seems like he misses a lot of notes in really charming ways.
• As much as I See A Darkness was a record that skewed the expectations of conventional folk music - when the lyrics were supposed to be heartbreaking, the backing music was warm and welcoming, and in a song called "Death to Everyone", he sang, "Stars turn, balls burn/Coming kids are raging", which sounds a lot like it's about ejaculation, Lie Down In The Light is just plain straightforward folk.  There are fiddles, songs of love and companionship, and songs about faith.  Sounds about right.
• I was about to say "this is musically unassuming and uncomplicated, but charming," but then I remembered that I was really impressed by how subtly great the arrangements here are, only after a few listens.  If you listen to this album, really roll up your sleeves and listen to it multiple times, because you owe it to this record.

There, that's it.  Sorry about the two hasty reviews in a row, I'll try to be better tomorrow, but if this blog has taught me anything, it's not to make promises about future content.  Later alligators.

And now for something completely different...Saturday I had the fortunate opportunity to spend the afternoon/early evening in Funtown. My friend, Jack (aka Happy Jack, I'm obsessed with The Who by the way) & I were one of the lucky few (300) who were able to score tickets to the show which featured the music of Thomas A. Minor & the Picket Line and Bonnie 'Prince' Billy (aka Will Oldham). With our directions to the secret concert location (see previous post about Folk Rave 2008) Jack I & headed out to J-Town for what could prove to be (and did!) one of the more memorable concerts of the year. Getting there was a breeze. And after scoring the remaining pair of memento kazoos, we parked the car then parked the chairs and waited for the music to begin.

The crowd was a great mix of people (there was even a black guy & an Asian!), young and old, hipsters, family members, neighbors, just general music lovers. To the left & right of the crowd was a lake & a cabin, a porta-potty & a very very small playground. Thomas A. Minor & the Picket Line played several songs and stayed on stage (a flatbed hitch!) to perform along with the Bonnie Prince. The setlist included several songs off his new "Lie Down in the Light" plus a couple older songs (Death to Everyone off "I See A Darkness" and Wolf Among Wolves off "Master & Everyone" and an even older Palace Brothers song Ohio River Boat Song) and a surprise cover of "Little Boxes" which you will know if you watched the first couple seasons of Weeds---among others.

Even if folky singer-songwriters make you cringe, there is something very special about Will Oldham. Whether or not you value him as a songwriter, there is a warmth and sense of honesty in his voice that is rare among modern singers. But regardless of who performed last Saturday night, I was reminded of how much joy there is in simply grabbing a blanket & chair, getting together with good friends, and listening to good music. Oh and you might wanna bring a kazoo...

Wenn ich etwas ganz scheußlich finde, dann sind es diese doofen Gummipantoffeln, in denen seit fast zwei Jahren die halbe Welt herumläuft. Die Bamberger Altstadt kann man zur Zeit jedenfalls kaum noch betreten, ohne auf Horden von Urlaubern in diesen Dingern zu treffen. Dabei gilt die Faustregel: Je dämlicher der Träger, desto bunter der Schuh.

Gar nicht dämlich dagegen ist der wundervolle Bonnie "Prince" Billy. Umso erstaunter war ich, als ich dieser Tage ein Bild von seinem Konzert Anfang des Monats in der Fabrik in Hamburg entdeckte, auf dem Will Oldham zu hellblauen Shorts und fliederfarbenem Hemd ein Paar krebsrote Gummipuschen kombinierte. Bahnt sich da etwa ein neuer Trend an in der Weird-Folk-Szene?