Into the past

I've seen Dave Alvin's name thrown around enough that I knew it even if the only song I'd probably heard him do before tonight was the one he performed during a season 2 episode of the TV show Justified.  I thought, why not go see him play this evening?  So I did.

The concert was a long one--and enjoyable--but what really won me over was the venue.  The Grand Valley Dale Ballroom seemed like something out of another era.  Apparently it has had quite a history, especially from the big band era.  I had no idea.

What a cool step back in time by entering this facility.  It's a wonder that it's still around.  You'd think it would have been torn down by now.  While easy to get to, it's off the beaten path and wouldn't seem like the place to bring in performers with national reputations now.  Still, I'd have to think that stepping foot inside is all that would be needed to persuade someone that this was just as good as any downtown club, if not better.

An independent promoter has started booking his roots music (for lack of a better identifier) performance seasons here since the previous spot is being taken over.  I've gotta say, I think he found a winner.  I can't wait to go back.

Meet the Beatle

At the age of 69 it is sort of incredible how long Paul McCartney played and how good he was during his concert in Cincinnati's Great American Ball Park. He still seemed quite youthful, and his voice has held up very well. If neither of these qualities were in place, I can't imagine that he would have played a nearly three hour show, which is what we got. His songbook certainly could sustain such a lengthy performance, one longer than that even. Still, how many people his age can you think of capable of doing this and doing it so well?

This was the last stop on his North American tour, and it wouldn't be out of the question to wonder if it might have been his last ever on this side of the Atlantic. Honestly, the chance that this was my final opportunity to see him live was a big motivation in my decision to buy a ticket. Maybe those thoughts factored into the setlist, which featured far more Beatles songs than I expected. Sure, it's not like he could go wrong playing some of the most popular songs ever. The size of the catalog he can draw from is staggering. His career in Wings and as a solo artist were represented, but The Beatles ruled the day. I suppose it was only appropriate. I certainly won't complain.

I got the chills several times hearing him enthusiastically perform classic songs that he's surely played long past the point where they interest him. Whether he stuck closely to the recorded versions or went with different arrangements, the results were thrilling. Among the highlights were a ukulele-led "Something" (not even one he wrote!), his solo acoustic playing of "Blackbird", "Maybe I'm Amazed", and the concert-capping "Golden Slumbers/Carry That Weight/The End". He hit a stretch in the middle of the night where I was astounded to be reminded of how many truly great songs and popular hits he's written. How could you not love this?

I don't attend many big concerts like this, and when I do, it can be hard for the artist or band to shrink the venue. Most turn to big production values. There were a few of those during McCartney's concert--pyrotechnics during "Live and Let Die" were the flashiest--but for the most part the strength of the songs and the performance were relied upon to make the stadium feel smaller. To my amazement, he accomplished that. No, I wasn't doubting his abilities. After all, he's had plenty of practice. But it takes a lot of skill to make anywhere with a sold out crowd of 41,500 is intimate. To that end, McCartney's jovial attitude and anecdote sharing went a long way in making this massive space seem like a small party. Plus, say what you will about the peace and love vibe from the '60s, but the joyousness in his music is as pure and enduring expression of it as one might hope for.

The label "living legend" gets carelessly applied, but in the music world I can't think of many who are on equal footing with McCartney. What are the chances that any musical artist in the future can reach across as many generations and cultures for going on 50 years? (I'm not even sure the same goes for former bandmate Ringo Starr.) Initially I second guessed if I should go, but I'm glad I did. What a great night of music.

One more night

One of the benefits of having favorite singers who aren't terribly well-known is the ability to see them in exceedingly small venues. One of the drawbacks of having favorite singers who aren't terribly well-known is the inability to see them frequently. I've been a fan of Kelly Willis since 1995, and I've seen her and her husband Bruce Robison in concert--solo or as a duet--several times. I've almost always had to drive a couple hours minimum to enjoy them live, though. To my knowledge she's never played Columbus. (One of the shortest drives to see Kelly play was Newport, Kentucky four years ago.) Bruce was here two years ago almost to the day.

When the announcement of their Columbus concert arrived in my inbox, I had a check in the mail a day or two later. My haste was probably unnecessary, but this was not something I was going to miss. I've been waiting ages for her to book a Columbus show, and the two of them don't perform together a lot. Plus, I wanted to send a message to the independent promoter: thanks for booking them and let my quick order indicate I'd like for you to bring them back, individually or together, again. I surely sound silly in the scenario, but know that I was even agitated with anticipation today waiting for showtime.

If that sounds like I'm laying burdensome expectations on the performers, I suspect they would have had to crash and burn on a spectacular level for me to be disappointed. Never fear. It was kind of remarkable how deeply felt the old songs were, like becoming reacquainted with friends who have been out of touch for a long time. I haven't been listening to Bruce or Kelly much of late, so returning to these songs was to be reminded of how much I love them and where I was in life when I first heard them. I don't mean that it was a nostalgic experience--just the opposite in some instances--but that it brought into the light the history these songs have for me.

They're preparing a joint album, which is part of the reason why they're doing a few brief stints on the road. Much to my excitement, this meant new songs, and more than I would have expected. In many respects, certainly in this one, the concert couldn't have been any better. New material, old favorites, and both of them on stage together!

The venue seems like the unlikeliest place and the most appropriate one for a country music concert. It was held in a German social club's concert hall, with American and German flags straddling the stage. (Considering Robison's German heritage, it is strangely fitting.) The unpretentious room made it seem more like a private party than a performance for which tickets were sold, yet for country music in particular, this casual gathering wherever it could be arranged seemed right. There was less physical and mental distance between those on stage and those in the audience. It seemed like a music hall that a whole Texas town might pile into on a Saturday night.

The arrangement of the room led to an amusing moment near the show's conclusion. Bruce and Kelly returned for an encore without their upright bass player and steel pedal/electric guitarist. They then called for their band members to come on stage. The bassist made his way to the stage with no sign of the guitarist. Eventually he emerged from the bathroom directly stage right within view of everyone. That got a good laugh from the crowd.

Sadly, this was the next to last concert that this promoter will be putting on at the German social club. The property was sold, thus necessitating for shows like this one to find a new home. So, chances are that this was my third and final time in the space. Here's to finding a good replacement for when these fine singer-songwriters hopefully return.

Hush

Isobel Campbell and Mark Lanegan are better known with their previous groups rather than as a duo that has now recorded three albums. Campbell was in Belle and Sebastian when the Scottish indie chamber pop collective was burnishing its cult reputation. Lanegan fronted Screaming Trees, which was one of the Seattle bands that gained prominence when there was an appetite for everything grunge. Belle and Sebastian means more to me than Screaming Trees--their albums Sweet Oblivion and Dust deserve fresh ears, though--so I was more excited to see Campbell in what promised to be an interesting concert Thursday night.

Their vocal contrast is quite pronounced. Lanegan possesses a gravelly voice capable of hard rock bellowing. Campbell's hushed, wispy voice sounds as if she's trying to tell you a secret and not let anyone else hear. The stage lighting emphasized this lightness and darkness, with Campbell in a bright spotlight and Lanegan looking like a younger Tom Waits shrouded in the dark or painted with red light.

Their approximately 90-minute set plus encore featured the slinky, often dark-toned songs that would feel at home in a lounge late at night. Backed by four musicians--Campbell occasionally played her cello and added some percussion--the two had their sides of the stage staked out, yet the physical distance between them vanished in their restrained and intimate singing. It was a striking example of how affecting the quiet can be as sheer power.

Smothered in hugs

There's a pretty good chance that I've seen Guided By Voices in concert more than any other band. The indie rock legends hail from Dayton, which is why they were on my radar fairly early on despite the fact that I no longer lived in the area.

Their story was a good one. Lead singer and main songwriter Robert Pollard was an elementary school teacher, and with members in their late 30s when the band broke on the underground scene, they were already "old". They arrived as alternative rock, whatever that is, was flourishing and carved out a small but passionate fan base that obsessed over the unbelievably prolific group's releases on a LISTSERV.

I was in college when I first saw GBV. A friend and I drove back to Dayton in the fall of 1994 to see them playing at a place being run as a dinner theater. It was a pretty surreal experience. We both got to meet Pollard and have him sign our purchases. Kim Deal of The Breeders, a local band (sort of) that was hot on the national scene, was in attendance and went on stage to sing on a couple songs. I'd never been to anything quite like this, or heard anything as catchy and noisy, so of course I was hooked. Local pride didn't hurt either.

So I was in on the ground floor, more or less. The so-called classic line-up played together from 1993 to 1996, and I saw them quite a bit, not the least of which was due to Columbus being a regular place where they performed. They were a terrific live band whose short songs were packed into epic concerts, at least when they weren't too drunk. (Their capacity for consuming alcohol was also part of their legend.)

When it was announced that this iteration of GBV would be reuniting and doing a short tour, there was no question I had to see them play. I wasn't alone. For a group whose name would draw blank looks from most people, this was a hot ticket. A local alt-weekly called it one of the most anticipated concerts of the year--it sold out right away--and tickets boasted asking prices of 2.5 to 6 times face value from online sellers.

Could any concert live up to that level of anticipation and nostalgia? In this instance, it did. Reports from some of the first shows on the tour claimed that the reunited GBV's playing was uneven. Whether it was having some time to get it together or extra focus with virtually a hometown crowd, these five guys came out and crushed it. Pollard, now in his 50s, still did his scissor kicks. Bassist Greg Demos strutted around the stage like a maniac with a purpose. Mitch Mitchell threw in some windmill guitar moves. Tobin Sprout's softer songs were nice counterpoint to the rockers, although his were beefed up more than I remember. If anything, they may have been tighter than back in their heyday.

The main thing that stood out is how many great songs this band produced. (And did they ever write songs. They've put out three box sets, each with 100 unreleased songs.) This was an audience of hardcore fans, so everything was already going to be greeted as a smash hit. Nevertheless, the hour forty-five minute concert was like a long greatest hits show, even if a couple rarer tracks made it into the mix. Welcome to one knockout punch after another.

I don't know if it was because I was close to the stage at the front of a deep room or the intensity that the band stirred up (or a combination), but this was as physical of a audience experience I've had. Packed shoulder to shoulder and front to back, it's sort of a miracle that a pumping fist or slamming head didn't connect with my face. At times there was a fair amount of pushing. I made sure to sharpen my elbows and have them pointed out to defend myself from the people bouncing off other attendees like golf balls ricocheting off a racquetball court's walls. I can't say that I enjoyed this aspect of the concert, but it definitely fed an energy into the room that enhanced the evening. I just could have done without some of the aggressors.

Shoving aside, I couldn't have asked for a better trip back with one of my all-time favorite bands and one that led me to a lot of music that I otherwise never would have come to hear. I imagine the band members will be too old to do something like this again in ten or fifteen years, and I don't know that I'd want to be trapped in the pit again with those years on me. If this was goodbye, what a way to go.

A salty salute

I'll save my in-depth thoughts on tonight's Guided by Voices classic line-up reunion show for tomorrow when I won't have to stay up as late to type them out.

Suffice it to say that this sold-out concert found the veteran Dayton, Ohio rockers ready to put on a show for what was virtually a hometown crowd here in Columbus. It was a rowdy night of rock 'n' roll. I feel at least a little fortunate that I didn't catch a pumping fist or headbanging head with my face.

October

Although I have good reason for focusing on the bad news that's come my way in recent weeks, I ought to keep in sight the good things coming up this month.

For example, the Cincinnati Reds will compete in the Major League Baseball playoffs for the first time in fifteen years and I'm going. I'll also be attending if they advance to the NLCS. I've waited a long time to see the Reds return to the postseason and a longer time to witness it in person. Now let's hope their performance isn't a complete letdown and that it isn't too chilly.

It could be too much of a good thing. There's the potential for the NLCS games to conflict with the concert tickets I have to see the reunited "classic" lineup of Guided by Voices, a band on my list of all-time favorites, and Isobel Campbell and Mark Lanegan. I'm look forward to those shows, but I'll have some decision-making to day if games and concerts overlap. I saw GBV plenty of times in their heyday and could probably clear some pretty good money scalping the ticket, but then again, the more likely conflict is with the Campbell/Lanegan show. As a big Belle & Sebastian fan, I'd like to see their former member with the former Screaming Trees front man. Still, if all problems were like this...

Movies ought to start getting better this month as the awards contenders begin to trickle out. Exhibit A: The Social Network.

Tomorrow I hope to have a better feel for what the future may hold. Fingers crossed that it's positive. Toes crossed too.

Light and dark

Honestly, I wasn't much in the mood to go to the concert I had a ticket for tonight. I hadn't lost interest in the band. Work stress had simply taken its toll on me. So bless the openers, local band Super Desserts, whose sunshine pop lifted my spirits at the end of what has been a rough week.

Super Desserts - On Sunday from Ohio Sessions on Vimeo.

This was my first time seeing a show at The Basement, and I was a bit thrown by how small it is. The "pit" in front of the stage might comfortably accommodate roundabout forty people. More can fit in between the fit and the soundboard and around the sides of the stage, but still, this is a smaller venue than I was already envisioning. It struck me as a more spacious version of Stache's, a fire hazard of a small club that is long gone from the scene.

It turns out that a significant percentage of the people milling around before the music started are in Super Desserts. A mere seven band members took the stage. Apparently they were short at least two others.

Cello, viola, ukulele, bass clarinet, melodica, and xylophone made their way into the mix during the 45-minute set of cheery pop. A musical similarity to Belle & Sebastian exists, although Super Desserts' compositions didn't sound as intricate, at least in a live setting.

Their cover of "Wouldn't It Be Nice" was unexpected and sort of exhilarating, because who in the world is going to try to put their own stamp on that Pet Sounds classic? With nearly enough people to field a baseball team on stage, it was worth them taking a crack at it, and I thrilled when they transitioned into the bridge. They also did a fine job on Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young's "Our House".



The airiness of Super Desserts, an appropriately named band if ever there was one, contrasted nicely with the brooding songs of headlining duo Wye Oak. They made a mighty racket, and I enjoyed hearing them. They were, after all, who I'd come to see.

So, for a night out that I wasn't feeling up to, it hit the spot. The lightness of Super Desserts and darkness of Wye Oak was an inspired pairing, and I departed in a better mood than when I arrived. I even left with one of the local band's CDs, and I almost never do that.

NO BIG HAIR!

Having observed the march of reunion concerts and annual Broadway show-like tours for another generation's bands--hey, it's REO Speedwagon and Fleetwood Mac in some iteration again--I've viewed them from a mostly negative perspective. Look at the cheap cash-in efforts and uninspired playing of the same old hits every summer.

I actually saw some of these shows the summer I worked part-time at an amphitheater and simply didn't get the appeal even if you liked the artists. Granted, all of them hadn't done anything of note in ages, which made it seem all the more pointless. This was driven home by seeing Poison in consecutive years. (You better believe I didn't pay either time. For what it's worth, Cinderella impressed me with their chops.)

So there I was tonight at the Pavement reunion concert. I purchased a ticket as soon as they went on sale, and I was looking forward to this show quite a bit. I never saw them during the '90s when they were one of the most influential band in the lo-fi and indie realms, and this was a reunion that I don't think many anticipated. Of course, that tends to be the way it goes with these things. It'll never happen...until the financial rewards are calculated.

Granted, we're talking different levels here. Pavement is a seminal act, and like such groups, their popularity was basically confined to the musical underground. And no wonder. With ambiguous but verbally witty lyrics, guitars and vocals that sometimes sounded like they were out of tune, and a generally offhanded vibe verging on sloppy, they were too rough around the edges to breakthrough. I suspect they are playing the biggest rooms in their career on this reunion tour, which is testament to their influence and the regard with which their albums still have, but we're still talking about venues that can pack in 1500-2000 people.

Anyway, to get back to my point, I gave in to nostalgia and made sure that I'd be at this concert. I'll be doing the same thing in a month when the reunited "classic lineup" of Guided by Voices comes to town. I justify it because, well, I really wanted to see them and because these are bands that never were that big beyond a small but dedicated audience. It may seem pathetic if they keep coming through year after year with nothing new to offer or nothing new that's any good, but for groups whose shadows have only become longer in the intervening years, it seems respectable and right that they take victory laps now.

Pavement has a mixed reputation as a live act, but they were pretty terrific tonight. They played many of their most beloved songs--it's hard to call them hits--and plenty of other unconventional choices. It didn't feel like a performance meant to resuscitate their former days as indie rock heroes but a genuinely worthy and engaged playing of their catalog. Pavement didn't appear to be going through the motions of yesteryear, and I didn't feel like I was reliving my time in college. Nevertheless, hearing "Range Life" gave me the chills. Other favorites--"Stereo", "Cut Your Hair", and "Summer Babe (Winter Version)", among others--sounded as fresh as they did during my twenties. Undoubtedly nostalgia colored my enjoyment, but I'd prefer to think that is was merely an enhancement than the primary object.

Lollapalooza

Sunday in Chicago meant heading down to Grant Park for the final day of Lollapalooza. Initially my friend and I talked about going Saturday and Sunday, but I told him that just Sunday was fine with me. I figured that otherwise we'd have no time to catch up and take it easy, particularly the last part. I wouldn't have minded attending the whole thing, but I figured one day would be plenty, especially since it would allow me to catch the band I wanted to see most out of all of the acts playing the festival. Let me say it now: that was the right call.

(If this fountain in the middle of the park looks familiar, I'm told it was in the opening credits to Married with Children. I've not fact checked this, but it seems true.)

On Monday the newspapers reported 240,000 attended the three days of the event. Assuming an even division among the days, that puts 80,000 there Sunday. Needless to say, that doesn't make for the easiest movement from stage to stage. We ended up alternating between the two facing each other and then just staying at the bigger stage in the hope of getting a decent vantage point for the last two acts to play on it.

This is what I mean by a decent vantage point. Oh my, was it a tight squeeze. I'm not claustrophobic, but I felt like I was on the verge of a panic attack or something during the first portion of MGMT's set. Granted, it had already been a long day and it was hot and more people than should have been were pushing their way toward the front. The feeling passed, perhaps due to some hydration, and I was good for the remaining three and a half hours. Seriously, though, there were a lot of people.

Lollapalooza was about music, but the organizers didn't mess around when it came to dining options. Noted Chicago chef Graham Elliot was the festival's culinary director. I ate at the stand for trendy hamburger spot Kuma's Corner. (Side note: I ate at more foodie-approved places in these two days than I probably have in a lifetime. This was not a bad thing.) I went with the Judas Priest burger, which was a massive 10 oz. burger with bacon, bleu cheese dressing, apple, walnuts, and dried cranberries. I did not need to eat the rest of the day.

Being in Grant Park for the festival afforded some nice views of the Chicago skyline, although since I stuck primarily to the Budweiser stage, pictures such as the one above had to be taken by turning around. There was another stage parallel to this one across the way, but negotiating one's way between the two just meant being smack dab in the middle of both. In the end it made more sense to pick a side.

With Blitzen Trapper, Yeasayer (pretty terrific in this setting), MGMT, distantly heard sets by The National and Mutemath, and a sampling of Mumford and Sons (and, accidentally, Switchfoot) out of the way, it was time for the band that had everyone hyped, including me. I wouldn't have minded seeing the reunited Soundgarden all the way at the other end of the park, but I came to see The Arcade Fire. This was just a little different situation than the one other time I've seen them.

Their 90-minute set was marvelous. Arcade Fire play big, majestic rock that is well-suited for a field of tens of thousands to sing along with, and did the crowd ever participate. The band played a lot more from their first LP Funeral than I expected, especially since The Suburbs was released the previous Tuesday, and the audience, myself included, ate it up. The crowd was completely into the performance, but at least where I was it was a much better behaved one than there had been for the previous group.

The night was finished off with "Wake Up", an anthem that would have blown the roof off the place if it had been indoors. Being amid that many people singing every word, especially the opening (and repeated) refrain, was the kind of hair-raising experience you hope to, but rarely get, at a concert. The enthusiasm even carried over as people sang it on the slow path out of the park and picked it up again on the blocked off downtown Chicago streets. My friend said something to the effect that Arcade Fire won the game. There was definitely a celebratory feeling spilling into the streets, as though our team had claimed the championship.

Catching a train back was a slow motion adventure that took about an hour and a half--metropolises!--but yeah, I was still humming with the energy of an exhausting but pretty terrific day of music.

Sunday in the park

The majority of today was spent at Lollapalooza in Chicago's Grant Park. Between departing for the show and getting back to my friend's place, twelve hours were spent mostly on my feet. So yeah, I'm wiped out.

I've had a good time during my whirlwind weekend in Chicago. More details on the blog will have to wait until I don't feel like collapsing.

Sent from my iPhone

Shift

I was in a bad mood during the morning and into the afternoon, so going to see The National and watch them play their brooding songs in concert seemed like a good fit for the day. (I had the ticket for months, so this wasn't a decision I made per my outlook this Monday.)

Once I settled in at the venue, the foulness lifted. I appreciated hearing a couple of Hall & Oates songs and "The Rain Song", one of my favorite Led Zeppelin songs, playing while waiting for the bands to take to the stage. I took some delight in being able to play "fecal" in a game of Words with Friends. Even though the parking meter hours and limit changed at my preferred spot for other Arena District events, I got satisfaction in finding another meter on a side street that let me still save a few bucks. Hey, you take the small victories where you can get them.

For that matter, opening act The Antlers were a pleasant surprise. I wasn't all that familiar with them, but I thought their 40-minute set did a good job of kicking off the evening of music. The National were very good for nearly two hours.

So the day ended better than it began. I suppose that's not a bad trade.

Stay positive

The songs of The Hold Steady are about sex, drugs, and rock and roll, yet seeing them in concert tonight felt more like attending a church revival. The crowd was shouting out Craig Finn's lyrics in sync with the lead singer as though following congregational readings from the bulletin. ("The sing-along songs will be our Scriptures" indeed.)

Finn's rousing performance was suffused with joy and a connection to the audience, the likes of which you'd expect from a preacher in a tent trying to whip the attendees into a frenzy and save souls. There were calls and responses and mirroring of Finn's motions. I would not have been surprised if one guy near me had started speaking in tongues. He was that into it, and he wasn't alone. Not to be overly clever, but one could claim The Hold Steady put on a charismatic performance in general and religious terms.

To be sure, this religious-like fervor doesn't emerge out of the blue. Catholicism recurs throughout Finn's writing, as does the redemptive power of music and communion with fellow rockers. ("Heaven is whenever we can get together, sit down on your floor, and listen to your records" goes the song the gives their latest album its title.)

Nevertheless, it was fairly remarkable to be in an audience that was so passionately locked in on interacting this way with the band. I'm a bit of a latecomer to the group--I got on board with 2008's Stay Positive--and not as closely familiar with the three earlier albums. (I've not heard their debut at all.) The energy surging between musicians and audience more than made up for my knowledge gaps while enjoying The Hold Steady tear through their catalog with abandon.

It seems to me that "We Can Get Together", the song referenced two paragraphs above, condenses what appears to be the band's mission statement, if rock groups were to have such things. Finn--and I attribute this to him since he writes the lyrics--wants to experience the spiritual through rock music and make a space for others to share in that. If this evening's ecstatic concert is indicative of what they are capable of doing, The Hold Steady can consider themselves successful.

Testament to youth in verse

In spite of the disreputable name the band chose, The New Pornographers rank among my favorites. Their pop songs via indie rock give the experience of being pummeled by wave after wave of balsamic vinegar, to make a weird analogy. (What I'm getting at is there's acid cutting the sweetness and a sense of being battered by the muscular chords and strong rhythms.)

It's been two years since they were last in town, so I was excited to see them again in concert. As a bonus, they had an additional member tagging along who wasn't here in 2008. (This also meant nine members were on stage at one time, which appealed to my fascination with extremely large bands.) I looked forward to this show as a nice end to the day that officially finishes the academic year and a time to kick back and take a breath or two.

And how. Maybe it was being so close--and having some room due to snagging a rare chair at a table at the general admission club show--but I was completely absorbed in song after song of perfection or close to it. ("The Bleeding Heart Show", which closed the main set, is one of the greatest songs ever. Seriously.) Suffice it to say that this group hits all the right spots for me. For something that first appeared to be a side project, I'm kind of amazed that they've become pretty successful, at least on the level of indie bands.

Since I have the photos, here are the opening bands: The Dutchess and the Duke (above) and The Dodos (below).

Acts of man

Midlake has been around for about ten years, but their folk rock sounds like it comes from the 1970s. I've been enjoying their latest album The Courage of Others, but I can't say I know much about the band. So I was a little surprised to see seven guys take the stage, four of them with guitars (plus one with a bass).

The cover to their current album served as the backdrop. It kind of gives me the creeps, but that matches the haunting music. With most of the songs in a minor key, there's something insidious about these ornate songs in which the natural world is so vividly evoked.

Midlake bears some similarities to Jethro Tull, a comparison that, if I'd known, probably would have steered me clear of these Texans. (Yes, it was the flute solos, although I suppose "Bungle in the Jungle" and "Locomotive Breath" are all right.)

Midlake busted out a flute on occasion. Actually, there were a couple times when two flutes were going AND another when a third wind instrument joined in, but the songs were so impeccably played that I sort of get how flute can be incorporated into rock 'n' roll. Of course, there was plenty of guitar and vocal harmonies to compensate for whatever bias I may have previously held against this element.

Anyway, good concert, great vantage point. (I meant to take my camera but forgot it. Still, I grabbed a couple decent shots with my phone. I was certainly in a good enough spot.)

I couldn't find any official videos of songs from the new album, but there are some terrific unofficial ones that someone put to classic films. "Acts of Man" to Murnau's Sunrise and "Rulers, Ruling All Things" to Tarkovsky's Stalker are pretty stellar.

Take a chance

The benefit of the low-priced concert, especially when one can avoid all the surcharges too, is that it allows one to take a chance. For the price of a new CD (or less), why not?

The Wexner Center has become the premier spot in town to catch up-and-coming artists without breaking the bank. (Buy from their box office, and you avoid the Ticketmaster fees.) In the past few years I've seen several terrific shows in intimate spaces without spending much. What could be better?

I wouldn't go so far as to call what they're doing "curating" when selecting artists to perform there, but in my observation the folks at the Wex aren't just booking anyone who might wish to pass through Columbus. In other words, based on the quality performers I've seen them present, I feel like I can trust who they welcome to play their venues. I may not be interested in all of the acts they bring in but who would?

This is all a roundabout way of saying that I decided to go to tonight's Laura Marling concert. I did give her new album a test spin on the soon-to-be-shuttered Lala, so obviously I liked what I heard enough. Still, one listen on a computer isn't exactly much to go on when heading to a show.



It didn't matter. Marling was terrific and, to say what probably every article about the 20-year-old folk singer surely mentions, poised well beyond her years. The kind of music she plays isn't going to be getting heavy spins on radio stations or filling stadiums, but nevertheless, I felt like I saw a major talent tonight. It's hard to believe she's that good this early.

Hmm, maybe that inexpensive concert ticket wasn't so cheap. There's an album or two I need to buy now.

Rain songs

Stray observations from tonight's rainy My Morning Jacket concert with opening act The Preservation Hall Jazz Band...

-Wearing a poncho was like being in my own little polyethylene bubble amid the crowd. It also gave me slightly more space in tight quarters.

-Apropos of nothing, there was a guy in the crowd wearing a full ape mask adorned with a hat with "party animal" on it. That was...weird.

-Bringing along a New Orleans outfit with a rich history might intimidate some groups, but one sign of a band secure with its own abilities is inviting a great opening act. The Preservation Hall Jazz Band was a lot of fun and a terrific start to approximately three hours of music.

-Why is My Morning Jacket not one of the biggest bands in America? They kill it live, and their recorded output isn't too shabby either. As I sort of said before, they would have been huge in the '70s.

Under the radar

Last Monday I went to the Southern Theatre to see Joanna Newsom in concert. I'm not a hardcore fan--the album covers and vocal technique have put me off in the past--but I've been won over by her new triple album. That wouldn't necessarily be enough to get me to pony up for a ticket, but I'm sufficiently plugged in to know that this is a pretty big show by indie rock (or whatever you want to call it) standards. Her current tour either hits big cities or prominent college towns--I think Columbus qualifies as both--and this appearance means it's unlikely she'll pass through again anytime soon. So I took a chance, bought a ticket, and ended up really enjoying the concert.

Tonight I'm going to see The xx. (Chances are you've heard them in the AT&T commercial with Apolo Anton Ohno that ran during the Winter Olympics.) The buzzed about band's show has been sold out for some time and is another feather in the cap of local bookers. There are cities bigger than this one that aren't getting it.

Aside from the obvious reason of enjoying the music, I'm also attending because it means taking advantage of what this city has to offer. Staying in Columbus wasn't an automatic choice when I finished college, although I liked the area and preferred to stick around if all things were equal. As things turned out, I remained here and have been happy to do so. It has, for me, the ideal qualities of where I'd like to live: the feel of a smaller city and its ease of navigation with the cultural benefits of a large city.

Not every group or artist I'd like to see comes to town, and seeing any of the three major professional sports means driving a couple hours. Nevertheless, without driving more than fifteen or twenty miles I've been able to see plenty of bands and films and even world-renowned filmmakers that don't always visit places bigger than here. It is pretty remarkable the more I think about it.

Columbus doesn't have the cachet of Austin, Texas or Portland, Oregon. It's more like a well-kept secret, but I'd like to believe that those in the know appreciate this city beyond its reputation of a college football-crazy cowtown.

Live in '09

One of the big tasks I've been busy with has involved with evaluating the best films of last year. (If only my individual list were finished...) Since I need to get around to putting a wrap on several things here, I figured I'd start with the concerts I attended in 2009. The best albums will have to wait until a later time. (To check out the back catalog, see what I put down as the best in music for 2008.)

Looking over the list of shows I attended, what I'm left with is the ability for the music to transport. Yo La Tengo were like magicians with their pretty songs and feedback squalls. Leonard Cohen and Lambchop each played low key shows, but you could have heard a pin drop at either concert. The Decemberists brought their dense concept album to life and then came out for a rousing victory lap. Not quite co-headliners Andrew Bird and St. Vincent played transfixing sets that did a lot with a little.

For me 2009 was a pretty great year seeing live music. Here's to 2010 being anywhere near its equal.

1. Yo La Tengo at Stuart's Opera House (Nelsonville, OH)

One for the books, in my mind.

2. Leonard Cohen at The Palace Theatre

Let's face it, this may well have been a once in a lifetime opportunity. It was reported that Cohen had never played Columbus, and at his age, chances are he won't be back. He did not disappoint.

3. Andrew Bird and St. Vincent at The Southern Theatre

Other than when he invited St. Vincent, the recording/performing name of Annie Clark, on stage at the end of his set, it was just Bird on stage with his violin, which he played, plucked, and looped, yet his music was totally mesmerizing, sort of in a hushed, religious manner. St. Vincent was a fine opener, playing her arty songs with angular beauty.

4. The Decemberists at The Lifestyle Communities Pavilion

The Hazards of Love has a fairly convoluted narrative, but presented as live theater it made much more sense. For a band with lyrics like literature and, let's face it, would be mistaken for nerds than rock stars, they brought a powerful sound and did a smoking Heart cover.

5. Phoenix at Newport Music Hall

Nothing flashy but who needs that when you've got this French band turning out solid, tuneful pop-rock in a professional manner. (That is a compliment.)

6. Lambchop at the Wexner Center Performance Space

The amalgamation of soul, country, rock, and perhaps some jazz probably shouldn't work, especially with the offbeat lyrical content and singing that sometimes borders on speaking, but it does on record and did in a live setting.

7. St. Vincent at Southgate House (Newport, KY)

8. Los Campesinos! at Mershon Auditorium-Black Box

9. Wilco at Mershon Auditorium

Not the best show of theirs I've seen but still a good one. It may be better in retrospect since it spurred me to relisten to their latest album and realize that it stronger than I thought.

10. Bruce Robison at Columbus Maennerchor

11. The Flaming Lips at The Lifestyle Communities Pavilion

Far too familiar to what I've seen before, although once I heard their new album, unreleased at the time of this concert, it made sense why they didn't play more from it. Still, I'd virtually seen this exact same concert a couple years ago and didn't have a lot of patience with my fellow concertgoers.

12. Times New Viking (heart) the Velvet Underground at Mershon Auditorium-Black Box

On the rise

With all of today's chatter of excessively high winds, snow, ice, and possible power outages on the way, I was a bit concerned whether I'd be able to make it to tonight's sold out Phoenix concert. Other than some traffic lights near me that got knocked out in mid-afternoon, the winds didn't wreak much havoc, and the precipitation hadn't come. Which is all for the best because Phoenix put on a terrific show at the Newport Music Hall.

The French rock band's set drew mostly from its stellar 2009 album Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix, which one website tapped as the best album of 2009 and one of the decade's best. I'm inclined to agree on both counts. Played live the shimmering songs sounded exceptionally clean and rich, perhaps the best I've ever heard the sound at this venue. With the band often performing backlit, the music truly served as the focus and not just part of a visual extravaganza.

For me this has been a great year for attending concerts. Tonight, packed in among 1700 people, Phoenix brought it to a terrific end.

Lead singer Thomas Mars even wandered back to the area where I was watching, as he and the band finished up "1901" and the evening's concert.