A Stereo Sun Goes To Washington (A Special Election 2008 Edition)

Could there have been a worse time for the worst president in our nation's history to be in power? Terrorism and disease at home and around the world, genocide and poverty worsening worldwide by the day, and climate change becoming more apparent with every passing season. Leave it to W. to deal completely ineffectively with these issues. I mean, could the world have picked a worse time to have this guy lead the charge for change? A man who is staunchly against anyone who is not a) white b) Christian c) American d) straight and e) all of the above. A man who still doesn't know that it's only 100 degrees year-round in Crawford, Texas because he has barely ever left the ranch. And, most depressingly, a man who has managed to take the the opportunity for American to become a world innovator and leader in the fight against the milieu of detriments wreaking havoc in "developing nations," and turn it into an embarrassment, make our country a feared laughingstock, and alienate us from virtually every one of our ostracized allies.

Well loyal readers and friends, after months of being an "undecided" voting citizen -- and even some consideration of abstention from voting -- I have come to a consensus with myself that is sure to stick for at least a week. But seriously, I've done my research this time, and since the Savior John Kerry isn't running this time for me to blindly throw my support behind (and what a shame), I had to pick a new champion for the Democratic party.

Could it be Hillary Clinton? Well, since it's the first name that I mentioned it's safe to say that it's not her, but let me tell you why. Not only has she spent her entire senate career in the pocket of major corporate contributors and lobbyist, but she defends this position and does not claim that she will cease her moneymongering. In fact, she says that these corporations represent her constituency (or at least her wealthiest and fewest constituents) so she will continue, even in the presidency, to act on their behalf. In 2003 when it was up to the senate to stop President Bush and Cockbag Cheney from invading Iraq, Clinton was part of the bloc of Democrats that voted in favor of allowing military action with few limits and no timetable for reevaluation. And, I hate to get personal, but I doubt the moral character of a woman who unequivocally stays with a husband (albeit the President) that cheats on her numerous times, gets caught numerous times, lies publicly about it numerous times, and then gets caught in his lies numerous times. (I love Bill Clinton as much as the next faithful Democrat, and he is an admirable humanitarian and activist, but he was (is?) a shitty and mean husband...doesn't mean I wouldn't like to see him back in that office, though). Oh, and...doesn't she just sound like she is constantly condescending you? If Bush represents the common idiot, she represents the elitist asshole that is addicted to the double-talk (a.k.a. Parsing) that is second in the ruination of this country's media only to the "I cannot recall"s of the Bush Administration. For example, from the debate on October 30, Senator Clinton says:

On Iraq:
1. "I stand for ending the war in Iraq, and bringing our troops home."
2. "We're going to have troops remaining there guarding our embassy, a continuing training mission, and we may have a mission against Al Qaeda in Iraq."

On Social Security:
1. "With respect to social security, I do have a plan." (Note: she did not elaborate)
2. "I am not advocating any specific fix until I am approaching fiscal responsibility."

On Immigration (specifically the plan to give illegal immigrants in New York the right to drivers licenses):
1. "I would not say it should be done, but I recognize why Gov. Spitzer is trying to do it."
2. "It makes a lot of sense. What is the Governor supposed to do?"
3. "Do I think this is the best thing for any governor to do? No."

So, as you can plainly see, it is virtually impossible to know enough about what Senator Clinton truly intends to do if she becomes president to have faith in her ability to lead.

Could it be Bill Richardson? Aside from the fact that the state he runs (sorry New Mexico) has been 49th in the nation in education for at least the past 3 years and was named the “dumbest” state for three years in a row (2002-2004) in one national ranking...wait there is no aside from that fact. It's enough to rule him out.



The golden boy...Barak Obama? Critics say he's inexperienced and undeserving of this nation's highest post, but many said the same about Kennedy. And between the Bay of Pigs and the nuclear standoff with Russia they may have been right about him. Obama is a compelling option. He is fiery, charismatic, Black, speaks eloquently, and has great policy ideas. He is pro civil union, pro-choice, and has a comprehensive universal healthcare plan. Did Obama vote to allow us into Iraq? No chance. Would I be satisfied with Obama? Absolutely. Would I be more satisfied with him having about...say...8 years more experience? Without a doubt. Also, any man who threatens military action in Pakistan at this point in America's history needs a serious psychological evaluation.

It seems to me that there is only one viable candidate left to talk about, and that would be Mr. John Edwards (www.johnedwards.com). Over the past few weeks I've been reading through the candidate's websites and have left each one completely disenfranchised. My hopes for this election were dwindling, and between the Corporate-Clinton and the naive Obama I was ready to tune out for good.

Of course, it is hard to know whom to trust. It seems like the last thing this country needs is another Southern-drawl, smiling, nodding, sweet-talking, pompous ass. A woman or African-American may just be the catalyst for the change we so desperately need. Does Edwards sound phony? Is he constantly blowing smoke up my ass? To be honest, it does sound like it at times. But his voting record speaks for itself (except for that little Iraq vote...oops). John Edwards has NEVER accepted money from a PAC (lobbyist) or corporation with a wish-list. He has a 100% record with Planned Parenthood, an original and effective universal healthcare plan (copied by Hillary Clinton months later), supports the separation of Church and State, believes in equal rights for people of all sexual orientations in civilian and military life, supports troop reduction and withdrawal within 1 year, and has plans to significantly reduce carbon emissions EVEN IN LARGE CORPORATIONS by 2010. Overall, his decades of legislative (unfortunately not executive) experience will be wisely used in guiding his effective governance of our country.

I have been searching for the perfect candidate, and I now realize that there is no such thing. However, John Edwards is the only candidate that makes me feel like I will not be voting for the lesser of two evils. He stands for something important, and is willing to work to mend America's broken image and repair our fracture place in the global community.

Still, though...I really wish Al Gore were running.

Christmas Music: More Like...ChristmASS Music

Let me set the scene:

2007 years ago, a little babyJesus was born in a manger in Bethlehem. Three Kings were guided by a star to visit him with gifts because, of course, they knew he was the savior of the human race. (Note: 2007 years later, the human race is still far from saved...but that is for another day.) This is the story of Christmas as we all know it. Then, although we take a 30 year break from his life, a 30-year-old babyJesus has undergone a spiritual transformation, and the rest is history.

But what happened in those 30 years? Did babyJesus have a psychotic break and start believing he was the son of God? (Happy Hanukkah, by the way.) Did he go into a cave in the desert and shroom or take peyote for 12 days straight, only to come out having heard the voice of the Lord, his father? More importantly, did that voice tell him that 2007 years later his peaceful teachings and claims of saviorhood would be twisted and contorted into the worst form of musical torture ever imagined?

Now, those of you who know me will remember this side of me from such episodes as "Jake Doubts His Faith" and "Jake Becomes an Athiest," or even more recent ones such as "Jake Searches for Spiritual Answers" and "Jake Learns to Meditate." If you've known me for more than 5 years, you may even remember a time in my life in which I may have been considered sarcastic, cynical, and even bitingly hilarious. For the remainder of this post, I will slip back (in fact, I already have) into that frame of mind. There will be little intellectual musical conversation, if any at all, and I will rant and rant about how bitter I am about how God/babyJesus-awful Christmas music is.

(Another note: I truly despise all holiday music, including but not limited to Adam Sandler's "Hanukkah Song," but this post is dedicated to the most popular of holiday musics: that which is composed and recorded for and about Christmas.)

There are some bands, namely the Trans Siberian Orchestra, one John Lennon song, and one Dave Matthews Band song that is never played on the radio, that lend credence to the feelings that Christmas music is at all worthwhile. However, I hardly think that two songs can overturn almost a century of tortuous whining about little drummer boys and holy and/or silent nights. This was all much more of a problem for me when I had to drive to school every morning without a CD player in my car or be a three-year-old running errands with a mother who doesn't mind Christmas music at all. Nowadays, I use the ole iPod or Pandora and am able to avoid the entire month of December on the radio. Sure, I go to Duane Reade and the bank and the grocery store and get immediately bombarded with holiday spirit. And for those 10 minutes, I want to hurt everyone in the store. Luckily the sound of jingling sleigh bells can hardly be heard at all over the full volume of my headphones.

I think the worst part about Christmas music is that it is neverchanging. I don't know how many times I have heard Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band cover "Santa Claus is Coming to Town," but I can tell you that on any given radio station that is owned by ClearChannel it is played at least twice an hour. I simply don't understand how people aren't sick of the same songs year in and year out. I heard a Josh Groban version of "Oh, Holy Night" the other day in the doctor's office and I nearly walked out. How many times does some oversinging, overhyped trendy artist have to cover Christmas songs before the act loses its novelty? For God's sake, even NSync had a Christmas album.

It's as if the state of the music industry weren't bad enough already...instead of giving a month over to talented new artists, radio stations dedicate 11 of 12 months to Beyonce, Chingy (sorry, bro), Fall Out Boy, etc. and 1/12 to the same Christmas music as last year, the year before that, and back and back until 1985 (probably before, but I can only attest to the past 22.5 years).

Maybe it's not Christmas music that bothers me...maybe it's just the dumbness with which everyone seems to fit right into the status quo that enjoys what Christmas and its subsequent style of generic, repetitive, mind-numbing music represent. As one wise sage (Douglas V. Bermingham) puts it, "You seem to be saying that Christmas bothers you because it's the apex of our cultural year. it is a time of the greatest consumption of everything (extended out as long as possible). As for the music end of it, it promotes idle drifting back to a time when everyone in the country was, for lack of a better word, brainwashed into associating happiness with presents, presents and presents...and i think we should get some peyote."

Now with Streaming Audio!

Along the right section of the blog, at the bottom, you'll now see a little mp3 player. I'll change the song frequently, and for now it is playing "Little Wing" by Jimi Hendrix, in honor of my last post. Enjoy!

New Features!

Hello Friends!

Since nailing down a new job I have found myself with a bit of extra time on my hands during the day. As such, I have been putting in a bit of extra effort spicing up the blog. On the right side the page there are now 2 subscription tools, both RSS and e-mail, so if you like what you read please subscribe! There is also a hits-counter at the very bottom of the blog (that has been there for a while now), and the hits are really piling up! Over 500?!?! Keep spreading my gospel!

Also, you'll see that there is a funky little Stereo Sun icon (called a 'favicon' apparently) in the address bar at the top of the screen. If you're using FireFox it's also on the A Stereo Sun tab.

There are also several new links on the right side of the blog, mostly involving my artistic endeavors, pictures, and anything else I think you might be interested in (in this case, Mozart's Requiem is available for free download).

If you scroll down the bottom of the blog, you'll also see a calendar that has my gigs listed. I'll update it as I schedule more, and for now none are planned other than my weekly Monday attendance at The Cutting Room at 11:00pm (all are welcome to join me there!).


I have also registed my own domain name (www.jakehyman.net) and e-mail address (jake@jakehyman.net) and should be developing a website over the next few months. In the mean time, JakeHyman.net will take you directly to AStereoSun.blogspot.com!

Finally, over the coming weeks I will be trying to figure out how to get some streaming audio on the blog, so that when I talk about a song for an entire post, say "Little Wing," you can listen to it and have some general ideal of what it is exactly that I'm talking about.

Thanks for reading, and there will be more to come tomorrow after I go to the Bright Eyes concert tonight.

Little Wing

Listening to my iPod on my hour-long commute to work, I took a break from NPR Podcasts (about which I will undoubtedly write in the near future) to listen to some good old fashioned music. I hit the seemingly not-so-random "Shuffle Songs" on my menu, and was thrown into a musical reverie the likes of which I can usually only dream of attaining. As Jimi hits the first note of "Little Wing" and slides it down the guitar, I close my eyes and shut out the noise of the rush hour A express...143 seconds of pure bliss are underway.

Though it originally appeared on Axis: Bold As Love in 1967 (see: coolest album cover ever...and a poster in my house, compliments of Doug), the version I have is from The Ultimate Experience (compliments of Adam Baker in 7th Grade), a collection of 22 of the best rock songs you'll ever hear.

"Little Wing" went largely unnoticed by me for years until, in the winter of 2004 I had the excellent fortune of seeing a certain John Mayer play his first ever trio show at Webster Hall in New York (he also wrote on the song for Rolling Stone back in 2004...any plagiarism on my part is completely coincidental, I swear). The club is tiny, holding under 1,000, and when Mayer launched into his Hendrix-zone I knew we were all in for a treat. His version that night (which is also on my iPod) exceeded the original by about 6 minutes, and would forever change the way I view both a) the song and b) guitarists. But...enough about John Mayer (is that possible?). We're talkin Hendrix here, so let's focus.

As I mentioned before, "Little Wing" runs at 2:23, a short song even by the standards of the 1960s. The only band that could make 2:23 work more effectively than Hendrix does with "Little Wing" was The Beatles with...oh, I don't know...90% of their songs written before 1965.

From the first aforementioned guitar-slide, to the too-soon fadeout, "Little Wing" is a truly musical and lyrical psychedelic experience.

"Well she's walking through the clouds
With a circus mind that's running round
Butterflies and zebras
And moonbeams and fairy tales
That's all she ever thinks about
Riding with the wind.

When I'm sad, she comes to me
With a thousand smiles, she gives to me free
It's alright, she say's
It's alright
Take anything you want from me
Anything.

Fly on little wing,
Yeah, yeah, yeah, little wing"

At this point there is only :36 left in the song. For half a minute, Hendrix lets go in a way unlike he does in any other song. His guitar moves and soars, and he shakes you to the bone with a most sensual guitar solo (other than possibly Clapton, who has been excluded for reasons of unfair sensuality). Just as the song is looping and spiraling out of control, it begins its inevitable but premature fadeout.

Where did the solo go? How much pure Hendrixian brilliance was cut from the tape? In subsequent live performances he cuts it just as short, but the album version shows no signs of ending until it is ripped away from us.

(Isn't this just perfect, though? The ultimate allegory for Hendrix's life and death...an eerie premonition. A song, just like the man, made of spectacular passion, cut down in its prime when there was endless potential for things to come.)

I can imagine that his solo lasted for three hours past the 2:23. I can see the producer (Chas Chandler) sitting there, Mitch Mitchell pounding away on the drums and Noel Redding punching in his bass, just awestruck. What could he do with that solo? THREE HOURS OF A HENDRIX SOLO? So he decided, in a move of sheer douchebaggery, to cut the solo at 36 seconds just because he had no idea where else to cut it. It got way too intense after that. So, 2:59:24 of the best solo ever played is history.

On the other hand, I can imagine that the solo rambled on and on for a dozen more minutes before Hendrix realized that what had started as the greatest solo of all time became a stoned, unfocused mess after about 40 seconds so he'd better keep it at 36 just to be safe. This is, needless to say, NOT the version of imaginary history that I choose to accept. If you've ever heard "Machine Gun" or any of the Live at Berkeley recordings, you know that Hendrix was not one to shy away from longwinded and dissonant guitar solos.

So, because of Chas Chandler's inability to cope with the longest guitar solo in imaginary history, we are stuck and blessed with the smallest taste...an amouse-bouche, if you will...of what could have been. Mayer's rendition in 2004 brings us close, and sometimes at The Cutting Room Richie Cannata and the guests on stage will play "Little Wing" and bring us ever closer (one in particular 3 weeks ago, Joe __?__, a bear of a man with ass-length hair and a big beard actually appeared to channel Jimi from the stage for about 5 minutes), but in reality all I can really do is hope that Hendrix comes back to life and finishes his masterpiece with me at the production helm.

Requiem in D minor, K.626 (1791)

For those of you who are classical music buffs, which I assume most of you are not, the Requiem in D minor, K.626 is the mysterious and final composition of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (written in 1791). K.626 is representative of the Requiem's place in the "Kochel-Verzeichnis," which is a complete and chronological catalogue of Mozart's works, making K.626 the 626th piece that Mozart composed. Released in 1862 by Ludwig von Kochel, Chronological - Thematic Catalogue of the Complete Musical Works of Wolfgang Amadé Mozart was a 551-page index of Mozart's works. But that's enough useful information for one blog...what is my point? How dare I write a 21st century internet-journal entry on a 216-year-old piece of music? We'll soon find out...

What makes the Requiem such an intriguing piece is the conspiracy that shrouds its composition and subsequent release in the years following Mozart's death. To make a long story short, Mozart was, sadly, a very poor man who was willing to write pieces for commissions even on his death bed. It is rumored (but unconfirmed) that while writing the Requiem, he was convinced that he was writing his Requiem (i.e. funeral march). The individual who commissioned the piece was none other than a mysterious cloaked stranger whose identity was concealed at the time, but is now known to be Count Franz von Walsegg-Stuppach who took credit for the piece in private performances. As Mozart lay dying and attempting to finish his final masterpiece, his limbs became too swollen to allow for movement, which included writing and playing. Therefore, his pupils Eybler and Sussmayr stepped in to finish his work. The problem with this, as many music scholars will attest, is that it is still unknown how much liberty his pupils (primarily Sussmayr because Eybler was a pussy and couldn't handle the pressure of following Mozart) took in finishing the piece. How much was intended by Mozart through notes and composition, how much was conveyed verbally in his final days, and how much Sussmayr created on his own will probably never be known.

I have seen the Requiem performed three times (London, Prague, and now New York), and I was honored enough to perform one movement, Lacrimosa (3rd movement, 6th part), with the Central Jersey II Regional Choir back in my high school days. This section of the piece naturally became my favorite, and it wasn't until the October 17th performance of Requiem by the London Symphony Orchestra that I learned Lacrimosa was the final section that Mozart wrote (only 8 bars, though the questions surrounding Sussmayr's knowledge of Mozart's intentions still remain) before he died the next morning.

Falling in love with the piece is easy. If any of you have the opportunity to download it for free or for any small sum of money it is very worth it. I know friends that have had deeply personal experiences just form listening to the piece, and I was even able to turn someone on to classical music using solely the Requiem (to start, at least).

So, here we are...tons of exposition and background information only to lead to my review of the LSO performance of the Requiem in D Minor on October 17th at Lincoln Center in New York City.

I was, suffice it to say, completely blown away. In London, I was underwhelmed by the Britishness of the direction, conducting, and overall delivery. In Prague, I was very satisfied by a beautiful and apropos performance. But, this time, I was overwhelmed by the passion of conductor Sir Colin Davis (in his 60th year of conducting), the perfection of the choir and soloists, and the intensity of the orchestra. Of course, Lacrimosa was the best part, but the attacks on the frantic second movement (Dies Irae) and some interesting directorial decisions throughout the piece really added new dynamics that I had never considered before. In Tuba Mirum, for example, Sir Colin provided the soloists with support by directing the piece to be played staccato rather than the typical legato. Even his most negligent and controversial choices, such as cutting the tempo of Domine Jesu, added to the variety and surprise in each movement that is so key in any performance of K.626.

If I never see the Requiem performed again, which I hope is not the case, I will be able to say that I saw one of the greatest conductors, orchestras, and choirs in the world do a master's final work the justice it deserves. That being said, the National Chorale will be performing the piece again at Lincoln Center in March...any takers?

The Two Day Evolution

It's just after midnight on the night between September 30 and October 1, and I have just moved into my new (slanty, of course) house in Jersey City. I am just about to get into bed when some force of the Almighty drives me to check Pitchforkmedia one last time before bed. Do I have ESP? Do I know how this moment will change my life before I even act? Maybe. But one thing is certain...I have only 10 days to prepare for the greatest music moment of the last three years since the last Radiohead album was released.

I was only in high school then and, to be completely honest, Hail To The Thief scared the living shit out of me. I had never heard Radiohead before, only heard their name and knew of their revered status, but I assumed it was worth a try. I simply couldn't hand it. Never before had an album ignited an emotion other than sadness or happiness or love. Fear in music was relegated to those outcasts, those Slayers and Marylin Mansons and Nine Inch Nails. We John Mayers and Dave Matthews and Billy Joels were all love and longing, not death and anger.

When I heard the song "A Wolf at the Door (It Girl. Rag Doll)" for the first time I nearly shat myself. For at least a year, until I met one Patricia Mara, I was not able to appreciate the album. With her encouragement I delved into my Radioheadaphobia (yes, that is the clinical term), and slowly built my library with their catalog.

In my senior year at GW I wrote a twenty page paper on the advent of the concept album, with the majority of my paper revolving around the modern classic album OK Computer. And, while HTTT might still scare the living hell out of me, I respect it and even love that it can still reach into me and pull something different out than any other album.

It was with this unique perspective and hopeful ear that I unwrapped (or downloaded from a link in my e-mail, whatever) my free copy (yes, I paid nothing because I don't have a paying job and Radiohead does...it's only fair) of the four-years-in-the-making, seventh Radiohead album In Rainbows at about 1:30 on the early morning of October 10. Over the past two days I have listened to the album no less than six times in its entirety, and at least two more in bits and pieces. My reactions and their evolution over the past 72 hours are chronicled in the following passages:

Day 1: I fell asleep with In Rainbows on because I was so tired from sitting up and waiting. Upon waking and leaving the house, I immediately started from the top. The album opens with "15-step" and immediately sounds great. As my walk to the train station continued and the album went on, I can't help but feel decidedly underwhelmed by my current Radiohead experience. I make it through the album on the way to work and arrive pleased with what I've heard, but altogether disappointed that I wasn't touched like I still am by HTTT and Kid A.

At that point, I had several thoughts (in general and about the album). "Am I being too hard on them?" No, I decide. If they are indeed the second coming, they should be able to deliver as they have in their previous three consecutive efforts. To their credit, though, Kid A, OK Computer, and HTTT are three "this is the best album we will ever make" albums, and they were all released one after the other by the same band. So what if Radiohead's precedent of constantly one-upping themselves is broken? In Rainbows is still a valiant effort and, if released by another band, would be a beautiful piece of music. Besides, at least they're not forcing themselves to create insanely complex works in an effort to imitate early success. Overall, after three listens on Day 1, I was still not convinced that this was at all worth the wait.

Day 2: October 11 was a day of discovery and open minded reassessment. After the previous day's disappointments, I really needed the album to come through in a big way. I didn't want to overdo it, so I resolved to online listen once all day. I found it on my boss's iTunes and listened through the new album, as well as the previous three albums (see above) for good measure.

Now, you may be thinking to yourself, "What the hell is wrong with him? When did he start liking Radiohead this much?" Normally, I couldn't agree more. Ever since the Dave Matthews Band fiasco of 2000 - 2004 I have been cautious about riding a band into the ground with an obsession. But, after my one listen during Day 2 and the subsequent listens to the other albums, the tide began to turn for In Rainbows. The songs all started to work together and, by the end of listen number four and Day 2, I was officially 180'd my opinion of the album. It is, after all, a worthy addition to their illustrious collection (and mine). The strongest track is, hands down, "15 Step," the album's opening song, with its closer "Videotape" as a close second. The least inspiring "House of Cards" and "Jigsaw Falling Into Place" (Tracks 8 and 9, respectively), but by the end of Day 3 (today) I will have probably changed my mind between six and twenty times.

In fact, I feel almost ashamed that I couldn't see the immense value of this album for over 24 hours. I admit it...I was far too quick to judge. But, like most Radiohead, In Rainbows has grown on me. And, if my experience with HTTT is any sort of predictor, it will mostly likely continue to do so until their next album takes its place.

Billboard, Yahoo, Thieves, and Chingy

But first, I must discuss today's events regarding the artist formerly known as Britney Spears. I'm going to leave up the creepy androgynous video for another week because, while I hate to say it, that blubbering ass of a human has a good point. The insatiable appetite of Americans, as fueled by the media, has officially destroyed a life. Now, I know this probably sounds preachy. And I know that Britney has to be held accountable for her own actions. But, after over 10 years in the biz, throughout which she was not given a moments privacy or even normalcy, she was actually driven to insanity. As if the sign's weren't clear enough when she a) married Kevin Federline b) shaved her head c) showed her vagina to the paparazzi d) hit another car in a parking lot and drove away or e) attempted a drugged and hazy "comeback," now things couldn't be more obvious.

You have to give her credit though...unlike most Americans who aren't fit to be parents, Ms. Spears was willing to give up her rights to parentage by refusing to a) admit to twice-weekly drug tests b) sign a form and c) do anything at all required of her by the judge to maintain custody of her children. Thank you Britney, for teaching parents everywhere that, if you decide against an abortion and against adoption, you can always be an alcoholic, drug addicted mess to get rid of your unwanted kids.

Moving on.

Last Tuesday I had the chance -- nay, the honor -- to help set up and attend the Billboard/Yahoo Advertising Week (yes, apparently there is such a thing) concert at B.B. King's in Times Square. The performers were invite-only and included the likes of a few I can't remember, and such notables as Cary Brothers (see Garden State Soundtrack, 'Blues Eyes'), Company of Thieves (see Music That Rocks My Face Off), and Chingy, who singlehandedy revolutionized the way in which I say anything that ends in -ere (see Hurr, Thurr, and Everywhurr).

The setting up was, needless to say, tedious. But I met a guy in the biz, and he seemed keen on helping me find a paying job (woo!) once these internships are over. I got to hang with Cary Brothers for a while, but Chingy was by far the highlight, if for no other reason than his crazy Ebonics. We had about 100 empty boxes by the end of set up and I said sarcastically, "Hey, Chingy, you want some boxes?" To which he replied, "Nah, man, already gotta gaguh boxes." I laughed in his face, which I'm not sure he appreciated, but we talked a bit and he was a surprisingly nice, albeit inarticulate, guy. His posse was also quite hilarious, but quite a bit less witty and intelligent seeming...probably why they're sitting B.B. King's on a Tuesday afternoon and riding on the coattails of they're hugely successful friend.

Anyway...the show started that night, and when I showed up in jeans and a polo, I felt nothing but shame for my foolishness. How could I overlook the fact that this was the previously unknown, but now famed Advertising Week? Didn't I know I needed a suit to go to such a prestigious event? Because of my striking good looks, the bouncer let me by anyway. I got to my table in time to charge my dinner and drinks to the bluhammock (the record company that I work for) tab, and sat to enjoy the show.

After an eventless but solid Cary Brothers performance, an unsigned five-piece band out of Chicago took the stage calling themselves Company of Thieves (myspace.com/companyofthieves). Earlier in the day, during set up, I had immediately fallen deeply in love with Genevieve (I know I know, great name), the band's lead singer, whose quirky and awkward presence both on stage and in person were incredibly endearing. When she took the stage for showtime, however, it was like a new person had metamorphosed from the quiet girl of earlier. When I spoke to her later, she was back in shy/impish mode. But that is all beside the point...

The band, in a word, rocked. Their seamless blend of funk, indie-rock, latin, and jazz influences is incredibly unique, and the free CD I received at the show has been playing on my iPod for a week straight. Check that shit out.

I won't even bother describing Chingy's performance. Though he claims to enjoy playing with a live band better, he was relegated to a DJ and only one stage-posse-member. After a stirring (please note, in today's blog "stirring" should be taken to mean boring, artless, and repetitive) rendition of the hit that put him on the hip-hop and pop-culture map, "Right Thurr," the show ended with hundreds of rich, drunk, white people cheering in appreciation for his complete massacre of what some of us like to call music. I thought Kanye got me over my hatred of hip-hop, but I guess that's not true. That angry, cynical bitterness is still thurr...I mean...there.

Guitar Center Drum-Off 2007

I entered the largest drum-solo competition in the country with nothing but a cloud of pessimism and doubt weighing on my shoulders. "Why bother?" I asked myself. I am simply not a soloist...I've never given a solo in public outside of the pretense of being in a band, and all of my practice revolves around drumming to music, with musicians, or as some means to an end with a band. In this case, I was on my own from the second I took the stage.

The competition, run by Guitar Center, starts store-wide, then goes to the district, the region, and finally the national competition (only 6 drummers make it that far). As I arrived (late) at the Guitar Center in East Brunswick on Wednesday, I was clammy and scared. What if I choked? I had been drilling myself hard for weeks to get my chops up to speed, but what if I just hadn't been able to grow quickly enough? Would I embarrass myself? Would anyone even care that I had played?

I looked around at my competition. A middle aged Russian man, a 300 pound mullet-head, a 19-year-old, a pear-shaped punk drummer, a nice guy named Chris (no complaints about Chris), and an African-American fellow named Ahmed who just exuded confidence and nastiness behind the kit.

Russian guy dropped his sticks twice, mullet was surprisingly agile for his size...and now my turn.

I rolled into the funkiest of grooves, riding the hi-hats and snare with my right hand, the bell with my left hand, and keeping a hip-hop beat with my bass drum. I started out nice a soft, and slowly built up and traded 4s with myself, then 5s, and all the way through 10s until I was crashing on the cymbals every other beat. The crowd went wild, started clapping, and then I stripped it down to a cascara beat (thanks Alejandro), then some Afro-Cuban on the cowbell, and eventually a quick samba. This Latin section was my plan all along, but I wasn't feeling it so I quickly moved on. I know this is all very technical, but the point is, I used some variety and got the crowd going. The solo can only last 3 minutes, and when I am in the zone it's hard to get out. I missed my 30-seconds-left signal, and was brought to an abrupt stop about 10 seconds too soon...before I got to my grand finale of a drum roll on 2 different drums at the same time. A crushing blow!

I spent about 5 minutes after my set crying in the bathroom...no not really! I was disappointed about my poor showing during the Latin section and my lack of finale, but after that wore off I was thrilled! One Guitar Center employee told me I "really brought the funk." Did I have a chance? I don't know, but I was nervous as hell...5 drummers left, and I had raised the bar for them all.

19-year-old was solid, but clearly 19 (3 years makes a big difference), pear-punk did a one handed drum roll (impossible!) and not much else...but Chris and Ahmed blew me away. Great groove, solid chops, original solos. There was no way I could be in the top 2 and advance to the store finals...or was there?

As the judges tallied their votes and I sat satisfied but not confident with my fellow competitors, my nervousness melted into pride. I had given myself a chance...way more than this non-soloist had thought of himself a few weeks ago. Even that morning as I practiced the general ideas that I planned out for myself I couldn't seem to capture the essence of what a solo should be...full of tension and control and finesse. Once I got behind the Guitar Center kit, though, the adrenaline just took over and brought me to my happy place.

As the winners were announced, I wasn't at all surprised to hear that there would indeed be no advancement to the store finals for me. But I was surprised that I wasn't bitter or disappointed (well...only a little). Instead I felt impressed that I had even had the balls to get up there in the first place!

Ahmed and 300-pound-man came in first and second, respectively. Fat guy? Really? Well, OK judges, but I thought this was the Guitar Center Drum-Off, not the Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest. I would've been fine getting beaten by Chris, but fat guy? No, I'm not feeling bitter at all.

The Cutting Room

Four months? Do I dare have the audacity...nay...the cojones to just jump right back in as if a long long beat had not been skipped? I have a music blog here, and I went to Bonnaroo, but wrote not a word. In this blog I did not comment on my musical exploits this summer, my decision to pursue music as a career, my undying-and-sort-of-creepy love for John Mayer (and his collaboration with DMB just last week), or any other of the various sonically orgasmic moments that have graced the past four months of my life. Why? I've definitely had the time, and I've definitely thought about doing it. Truth be told, I'm a lazy bastard and I didn't think I would miss it.

But, here we are, all those months later and still I've got things to say. So, to those of you who know this place I proclaim a hearty 'Welcome back!' and to those of you who are just reading this rambling mess for the first time, I say 'Good luck!'

For the past three Mondays (four minus Labor Day), I have been attending a late-night open jam session at The Cutting Room in New York (W 24th b/w Broadway and 6th). It is run by the semilegendary Richie Cannatta, who spent many years as Billy Joel's saxophonist. Between Mr. Cannatta and another frequent visitor, the aforementioned-man-crush John Mayer, I could not resist attending when I found out about the jam from one of the sound engineers at a gig (Porky's in midtown).

So, every Monday at 11:30, I show up at TCR and put my currently meaningless name on a list of about 30 drummers, keyboardists, guitarists, various hornists, and singers in the hopes that the director of the jam, Lisa Miller, will call me up for a tune befitting my listed genres (jazz, funk, blues, classic rock, Latin).

Week 1: The jam begins at midnight, and I am on stage by 2:00am. Unfortunately, some little tart named Meredith requests 'Hit Me With Your Best Shot' by Pat Bennatar as the song to "jam" on. Richie looks at my terrified, angry face and asks, "You know 'Hit Me With Your Wet Snot?" At which point I laugh in his face, say of course, sit behind the kit, and make an obviously sarcastic joke about how confident I am that I can "nail this." Nail it I did...if 'it' means my coffin. Note to self and all others who attend the session with me in the future: NO 80s TUNES FOR ME...EVER.

Week 2: The jam begins at half-midnight (12:30am for all you non-Londoners), which is a bit late. I sign up with Lisa, who doesn't remember me at all. 2:30 rolls around and I still have not been called up to play. The house jammers retake the stage, signaling the disappointing end to my night...Doug and I leave lankily and bitterly, respectively.

Week 3: Labor Day...club is dark.

Week 4: The jam begins late, again, at closer to 1:00am. A bad sign for the lesser known jammers, such as myself. I sign up again with the Lovely Lisa, who almost remembers me right off the bat, sort of remembers me when I say that my name is Jake and I'm a drummer, and then really remembers me once I mention 'Hit Me With Your Wet Snot.' I say, "It wasn't really my bag," to which she responds, "Yea...I remember that, too." Lesson of the day: First impressions are important...don't pretend to know a Pat Benatar song when you hate the 80s. Anyway...Lisa announces a disclaimer that she will "try to get everyone up" but not to be mad if we don't make it. I speak with her, she says she'll do her best to get me up, and at 2:45 I have still not taken el stageo (that's Spanish for 'the stage'). I tell Lisa I will be seeing her next week, and drive back to Jersey...in bed by 4:00am, and up again at 8:00 for work. If this is the next 30-50 years of my life, I can't fucking wait.

All of that being said, I am taking reservations from those who wish to accompany me from 12:00-3:00am on Mondays to TCR. Any takers?

P.S. Check out that video at the bottom right of the 'Defensive Britney Spears Fan.' [Note: Video no longer posted] Is that not one of the funniest, most disturbing things you've ever seen? I was going to write an entire post on Britney and her VMA mess, but after seeing that video and the threats to all media personnel who are critical of the poor, poor Ms. Spears, I thought better of it.

Jukebox the Ghost Rocked My Face Off

This weekend was a big one for Jukebox the Ghost. Not only did Saturday mark the release of their first EP (which sold over 200 copies just on opening night), but the release show was at the Black Cat, one of DC's premier concert venues. And, to add to what must be the most exciting few days of their thriving career, they drew a crowd of over 600 fans, friends, and family. The least exciting part? I have been given the green light by Thrill Music Magazine, the new music mag that's launching on September first that I am staff-writing for, to write a feature on Jukebox for the first issue, which will coincide with the release of the EP's subsequent LP.

[Sidenote: I'm very excited about Thrill. Even if it's part-time, and even if I'm not getting paid (yet), Lauren's (editor) enthusiasm and encouragement are simply inspiring. She's not afraid to shoot down my ideas, but given my brilliance she hasn't had to do it too often yet. I've got a column that will be published in most issues (subject a secret), a series of stories about Bonnaroo (June 14-17), the Jukebox feature, a world-music column, and several other running-story ideas involving travel and local American music trends. So...everyone be on the lookout for Thrill Music Magazine (thrillmusicmag.com will be up and running very shortly) and tell Lauren how much you want to see more of me and how badly you want to see me get paid.]

Back to Jukebox

Simply put, Jukebox the Ghost rocked my face off on Saturday night. They had the crowd jumping, cheering and, of course, their front-row-fans were clapping in all the right places (as directed by lead singer, the phenomenal Ben Thornewill). Thornewill also played his senior recital the following night to a packed Hand Chapel on GW's Mt. Vernon campus, where he shone brightly in the presence of his family and close friends. Recital aside, the Jukebox stage presence is undeniably enthralling.

Tommy Siegel (guitar and vocals) has this innocent-yet-goofy way about him, constantly smiling in an almost awkward way on stage, but not so much so that the audience feels bad for him. Just endearing. Thornewill, undeniably the band's emotional leader, is a force on the piano and microphone. His harmonies aren't always spot-on, but his voice is always dynamic and he seems genuinely happy to be playing for you. He involves the audience, and isn't afraid to communicate with his band-mates on stage, a fact that only adds to the interactive nature of their performance. While pianoing, Thronewill manages to hit the highs and lows, often in quick succession, while Siegel's harmonies rarely wander off pitch.

The final piece of the Jukebox puzzle, drummer Jesse Kristin, is equally entertaining to watch. His incessant stick twirls and tambourine flips add some flare to the already immensely fun performance, and he just bangs away on those cans like it's his job...which, coincidentally, it is. Though clearly self-taught, his driving and melodic style is a perfect match for the quickfingeredness of Thornewill and Siegel.

As an added bonus, the music stands on its own as masterful piano-rock. Fun-to-watch members aside, Thronewill and Siegel write in different styles (think Ben Folds with Billy Joel's lyrical ability and Trey Anastasio with Thom York's lyrical ability), and the lyrics are particularly rousing and beautifully crafted (most notably Thornewill's, though Siegel's are nothing to shake a stick at...is that even a common saying?).

Well, that turned into way more of an article than I wanted it to be. The goal was to just say a few fun things about Jukebox, but it turned into a longass review of their wonderfulness and my obsession with watching them thrive in the piano-starved world of modern rock. I'll be back with a ranting mess of a post soon...

Hello Society: Music that Fells Good (as published in the GW Hatchet)

A rotating roster, improvisation and structured jams. Sounds like jazz? It is … sort of.

You may have seen Hello Society at any number of events around Foggy Bottom since the band's inception in the spring of 2005 playing as the house band at a performance by Think Tank, a spoken-word group on campus at the time. At the show, pianist Campbell Charshee, drummer Corey Brekher, a senior, trumpeter Philippe Chow, a junior, and then-members John Canter (saxophone) and Tash Neal (bass) met the band's would-be vocalist, junior Dan Cohn. Though they played dozens of shows billed under the name Speak No Evil, the band had to change its name due to a conflict with a West Coast heavy metal band. As Charshee puts it, "We'd rather play than fight with a bunch of forty-something washouts hanging onto their last glimmer of hope. Besides," he adds, "the new name fits the new sound better anyway."

Indeed, it does. Though Speak No Evil may be an appropriate name for the hip-hop driven jazz-fusion band that they were, the newly renamed Hello Society is much more fitting for the band in its current incarnation. With Charshee, Brekher, and Chow still on the piano, drums, and trumpet (respectively), the band has added GW graduate Steve Perkins on the bass and sophomore Gabriel Morales-Bermudez Pereyra on the alto saxophone. Cohn remains an absentee member of the band until his return this May from his semester abroad in Africa.

Along with these new members has come an aforementioned new sound. Without a vocalist to groove behind, the band has recently turned away from its original hip-hop roots and moved more towards the complexity of post-rock and modern jazz, along the lines of one of Brekher's favorite bands, Tortoise.

In its current form, the founding members of Hello Society likens itself to music that has "jazz chops with a rock spirit." With members who draw their influences from both ends of the musical spectrum, it's no surprise that their music varies so much in its style. Chow is the most traditional of the group (as well as "the brainiac" and the conflict settling "arbiter", according to Brekher,) and cites Freddy Hubbard and Roy Hargrove as some of his horn-blowing heroes. Bassist Steve Perkins, who Charshee describes as a "very creative soloist," graduated from GW last year as a computer science major and is currently the band's webmaster at hellosociety.com.

In between lay the other members. The Peruvian sax player Pereyra, for example, brings a Latin-funk feel to the band from the likes of David Sanborn, though he admits that his schooling at GW has given him more experience with the standards like Charlie Parker and Kenny Garrett.

Perhaps the only thing that has changed as much as Hello Society's lineup is the compositional process that they embark upon when writing songs. "At first, it was a very informal process," says Charshee, "Corey or I would lay down a groove, everyone would fill it in, and Dan would spit over it."

As the band played more and more, everyone naturally grew more comfortable playing together. Charshee, who claims to practice for 23 hours per day (but really, it's closer to six - which is no slouch), began writing more independently and bringing his Pat Metheny/Dave Holland-inclined compositions to jams. At the same time, Brekher's pot-rock interests were moving the sound in a similar, more "harmonically complex" direction. Now, having maintained the same lineup for just over six months, Hello Society no longer relies on one or two members to write the music, but instead collaborates on most of their new material.

While they may have had the longest possible chronology for a band that is only months old, Hello Society is more than just a bunch of hobbyists or mediocre musicians out to have some fun, though they undoubtedly do. At least two of the founding members, Charshee and Brekher, intend to pursue music as their careers in the not-too-distant future. Hello Society represents all that is great about the GW music community, which is thriving in spite of the administrations best (or worst) financial efforts to quash its artful and expressive spirit. There is little doubt that Hello Society will continue to grow in the future, especially with plans in the works to jam all six members into a house with nothing more than what Charshee says will be "a ping pong table and a soda machine filled with beer."

The band is planning a show next month at the Velvet Lounge to celebrate Cohn's return (tentatively scheduled for May 23), and they will also be playing in Kogan Plaza on May 3 at 6:00 pm with GW swing band King James and the Serfs of Swing.

"There are constantly cool new songs to work on, and as long as we keep pumping them out it won't get stale," ensures Charshee. Thankfully, it doesn't look like Hello Society's musical well will be drying up anytime soon, especially with Cohn's highly anticipated return looming only a few weeks away.

It seems that Hello Society has the right idea about what a band should be. They try to keep everyone on the edge of their often too-narrow comfort zone, while still supplying the audience with more musically complex ideas than they are accustomed to being exposed to. In doing this, Hello Society has embraced a Soulive-esque, mass-appealing, cross-generational sound that still avoids becoming the always dreaded "mainstream." Well-trained, well-versed, and well-intentioned, the members of Hello Society pride themselves on the ability to transcend musical boundaries.

"Everyone has their own idea, their own light bulb that goes off when you say 'jazz,'" says Brekher, "But most of the people in clubs are 'Bourgies' who are using jazz as a link to the past. We're just trying to be progressive. Jazz is always growing, like Miles in the '70s, and it's important to us to get jazz out of the jazz club."

"Yeah!" chimes in Charshee, "If you want to hear the old standards, go buy a Starbucks CD."

For more information on the band and to listen to samples, visit their myspace page at www.myspace.com/hellosociety and www.hellosociety.com.

Combining Two Worlds of Sound (as published in the GW Hatchet)

It's 9:00 o'clock on a Tuesday night as the regular crowd of hipsters, stoners, and musically exploratory individuals shuffle out of the early show at the 9:30 Club. There is a buzz about this crowd- they haven't been sardine-packed with thousands of sweating and swaying teeny-boppers that habitually plague one of D.C.'s most frequented concert venues. Instead, they were treated to 90 minutes of pure audio-bliss. The Books, along with virtuosic guest violinist Todd Reynolds, have just left the stage after a stellar rendition of some of their electronic, sample-ridden repertoire.

A Books' concert is a true sensory experience. Not only have they mastered the art of electronic composing, live performance, and video editing, they have also done so without taking themselves too seriously. The band is constantly joking with each other and the crowd, keeping the atmosphere serious but informal. In return, the audience, for the first time in my experience at the 9:30 Club, is void of screamers and song-requesters. The elder-member of the duo, Dutch cellist Paul de Jong, speaks in an accented drone - if he speaks at all - a style that is mimicked by Reynolds, which is a significant departure from his normally talkative and jovial demeanor.

All quirkiness aside, The Books have managed to revitalize the craft of a quiet, classy performance that doesn't dry out. Most of their music is performed with alongside the accompaniment of a pre-recorded track. Now, I was admittedly skeptical about this tactic. How much talent can that show, after all? Apparently, a lot. Along with their audio tracks, The Books edit videos for each of their compositions that beautifully capture the essence of each piece, whether marveling at the universe or creating goofy wordplay. As was explained by guitarist Nick Zammuto during the show, the videos are edited to be played back at a very specific frame rate that synchronizes them perfectly with the beats per minute of the music.

Despite the impressiveness of their recorded and performed elements, not to mention their immense musical talent, there is something else about The Books that stands out as particularly remarkable: their sound placement. Every piece contains hundreds - if not thousands - of different samples. Each one has to be placed perfectly, as do their live-instrument sounds, to create a distinctive and unrivaled musical experience. In doing this, The Books are constantly toeing the line between what should be considered art and what should be regarded as rubbish.

The fine line between music and noise is constantly being blurred, especially these days, and The Books operate and thrive by successfully staying on the beautiful and creative musical side of that ever-thinning boundary.

American Idol My Ass

As Seinfeld would say...What's the deal with American Idol? 30 million viewers every week? 65 million votes? Season 6 is slowly (and painfully) drawing to a close and I am forced to wonder...Who cares? How is it possible that virtually 10% of the American population watch this piece of self-indulgent horseshit weekly, over 20% vote, and I still don't know one single person who watches it anymore. Well...I guess that makes a little sense. I probably couldn't even bear to associate with someone if I knew they spent an hour (two?) of their lives on that every week.

Admittedly, I did watch one season of Idol. I had my favorite contestant, who I rooted for until his all-too-soon dismissal (Constantine SomethingGreek), and when he was gone so was I. I think my most pressing aversion to this embarrassing manifestation of our consumerist, Coke-sponsored, Ford-driven popular "culture" is that nothing musically or socially redeeming has ever come to fruition from Idol despite its six years of painstaking existence. Kelly Clarkson, you say? Please...I said musically redeeming, not talentless hack. Taylor Hicks? The last name says it all. Who are these people...these second-rate singers who couldn't even make their way to a karaoke bar, let alone a major record label? Are we, as a culture (again, I use this term loosely), so obsessed with drama and sitting on our asses in front of the television that we are willing to sacrifice art and music for the poorly-conceived notion of "down-time"? Apparently, unfortunately, and sadly, the answer appears to be yes.

An Overlooked Innovator (as published in the GW Hatchet)

Popular culture leads us to see the world of music through filtered glasses. Oftentimes, these filters only let through the worst of the worst. Nickelback, Ja Rule, and pretty much anything featured on MTV (or the travesty of what VH1 has become) are forcibly shoved down our throats and our ears are constantly averted from the virtual ocean of spectacular music that is readily available for our listening pleasure. In the fray, many artists and even entire genres of music go overlooked.

In 1988, a young 23-year-old in Rochester made a name for himself as the principal second violin of the Rochester Philharmonic playing music by the likes of Stravinsky and Tchaikovsky, among others. Almost twenty years later, Todd Reynolds is a self-described “hardcore avant-garde musician.” Reynolds founded the Kronos Quartet-inspired Ethel in 2000 (from which he is now two years removed), with the goal of creating an independent project that would allow him to musically and artfully express himself, while at the same time would also support composers and fearless improvisation. For almost six years, he was a main contributing performer and composer, but Reynolds says those times have “run their course.” Now, having moved on from Ethel, which is still thriving even in his absence, he is cultivating a budding solo career. His first EP release, aptly titled “Todd Reynolds,” come out this April and he will be joining experimental group The Books on their upcoming tour (which, coincidentally, stops at the 9:30 Club on April 17).

Reynolds’ new solo path has helped him learn a lot about composition, and his exploring has led him to discover his “single voice.” Though he is happier now with his musical path, he still looks forward to playing with ensembles because he is “an improviser at heart.” It is his exploratory nature that led Reynolds to befriend The Books.

Having toured with them once before, Reynolds seems youthfully excited about the unique opportunity to “bounce” his work off of a younger audience. “There is a particular kind of listener for The Books,” says Reynolds, “Last time, I knew I liked these people.” Though he and The Books have only been close friends for a year or so, Reynolds was a long-time fan of the unique sampling and mixing techniques used in the production of their music. It is this originality that Todd Reynolds shares most in common with The Books.

When Reynolds listens to his music now, he says to himself, “I don’t know what style that is” (though his friends have labeled it “quantum ambient”). That’s just in his nature . . . to be different. “I just can’t emulate styles anymore to fit in,” says the Steve Reich-ian violinist, who is proudly steeped in minimalism. Reynolds’ passion and giddy excitement are contagious, and the prospect of experiencing his real-time composition in person in the coming days fills me with a similar feeling. So why, oh why, is Todd Reynolds not a well-known musician? Is it his dedication to the classics, or his incessant strive to drive music forward? He is a true innovator, and if he continues to explore new musical paths he will no doubt open new ones for all of us.

I'm Ron Burgundy?

Well, it's a brand-spanking new post for my shiny, brand-spanking new "blog." I don't know much about these newfangled technologies, but as a 21-year-old hopeful staff writer of magazines and newspapers, I feel like I should try to involve myself in this crazy system. It's funny...all this time trying to avoid Facebook and Myspace, and I end up here, starting my own lame-ass online journal about music.

I'll try not to bore anyone, and I'll try to be as opinionated and hilarious as possible...along the lines of Bill Simmons for those of you who read ESPN.com (yes) or ESPN the Magazine (no). As Ron Burgundy says, "I didn't have a mountain...I had a camera and a newsroom." And I don't have a camera or a newsroom, but I do have the internets, the Google, and a computer...so enjoy.

I greet you on this fine wintry-spring of a Tuesday in DC with good news...music is alive and well! The problem is discovering the right places to discover it (a bit redundant, I know). Luckily, I have some help from some very musically conscious friends that allows me to stay up-to-date on all the new stuff, both good and bad, that's hitting the shelves or, more likely, not hitting the shelves and just being illegally downloaded from torrent sites.

I recently had the pleasure of being introduced to the by-no-means-new band Do Make Say Think. Now, you may be thinking, "Why is this guy talking about a band that's ten years old?" Well, their new album "You, You're a History in Rust" is breathtaking. I mean it...every track is better than the last. It moves more than their older stuff, has more character, and still maintains their "experimental" nature. Of particular interest to me were tracks 2 and 3, which seemed to both get the album moving and subsequently throw it into orbit.

I've got much much much (etc) more to talk about, but I should probably save something for another day...maybe day 2?