Anyway.

Since April, I’ve been lucky enough to see shows of bands that sparsely tour and were never possible to see in Minneapolis, where I had lived for the last five years. Here are some highlights:

1. Jarvis Cocker, former leader of Pulp, at Music Hall of Williamsburg was the biggest highlight. He is my hero, and not because he handled his microphone more phallically than Karen O.

Jarvis Cocker at Music Hall, July 30, 2009. By Chris Laputt for BrooklynVegan.

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2. The first US shows in three years from The Legends at the Bell House and at Santos Party House. I had to go by myself and there was barely anyone at either night. However, there was a really, really short photographer at Santos, and he scurried away to the bar in the middle of the show, returning seconds later with a stool. He placed directly in front of Johan Angergård, climbed his way to the top and then snapped pictures for several minutes, mere inches from Johan’s face. I laughed uncontrollably even though I was alone, and this attracted several awkward stares, which are always tiny victories that I cherish and keep to myself.

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3. I’ve seen San Francisco’s GIRLS four times in the last two months. Their debut LP, Album, will be released on September 22, and it is going to get very good reviews. I’m calling Best New Music, even though I like to avoid thinking in that vein. I’m willing to bet on it, so leave a comment if you want. This can be a fun new game called Hipster Horserace.

GIRLS at Mercury Lounge, June 25, 2009. Photo by Fresh Bread for BrooklynVegan.com.

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4. Previously on Lost, who play songs based on episodes of Lost and they’re actually good. They also start off every show by destroying a giant cardboard airplane.

Previously on Lost at The Bell House. Photo by willtradebikeforwomen.

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5. The Homosexuals opening for Monotonix at Club Europa in Greenpoint.

The Homosexuals at Club Europa, May 19, 2009. Photo by Joe Holmes.

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6. Handsome Furs two nights in a row. I ruptured my right eardrum the second night. There was blood, itching, and pain the next day, and messed it up again a few weeks later at Death by Audio during a Shilpa Ray show.

Handsome Furs at Bowery on July 8, 2009. By Alex Reside for BrooklynVegan.com.

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7. Several Blank Dogs shows, who rarely leave NYC and only started performing live in 2009 after years of releasing records. They’ve added an attractive female keyboard player since the last time I saw them, which finally gives me something to look forward in my life if I see them again.

Blank Dogs at Music Hall of Williamsburg on May 20, 2009. By Lori Bali for BrooklynVegan.com

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* “So Come Back, I Am Waiting” is a sad song for sad-sacks by the sometimes sad Okkervil River from their sad 2005 album, Black Sheep Boy, which is one of my favorite (sad) albums of this decade. I used to listen to it all the time, even when I wasn’t sad, but then it made me too sad eventually, especially because of the sad and desperate final lines after the sad horn bridge section at the end. Try it. Sad? Sad.

I started thinking even harder about Clif Bars and decided I should try to pick some up on the way home from work to get going on the salmonella idea as fast as possible, and I started to think about my favorite flavors: Banana Nut Bread, Carrot Cake, and Cookies ‘n Cream. I then realized I hadn’t bought a Clif Bar in a few months, and holy shit, maybe there was a new flavor or two.

I went to the Clif Bar website, and instead of discovering a new flavor, I found the opposite: a missing, discontinued flavor. This Clif asshole did it to Lemon Poppyseed two years ago, spared nasty flavors like Apricot and Blueberry Crunch, and this time, he axed COOKIES ‘N CREAM.

This has happened way too often in my lifetime, and the moral of the story, obviously, is that nothing good can last. Here are some other tragedies that deeply affect me to this day:

I miss you, Starfruit Gatorade. Your emptiness in this photo resembles my soul after you died.

WTF Trader Joe’s? Can’t find these anymore, and don’t make me bring up the disappearance of the Dried Cinnamon Apple Rings. I’m kinda mad at you and don’t think I’ll come by anymore. I’ll buy my Clif Bars elsewhere now (BUT NOT COOKIES ‘N CREAM).

So this post isn’t related to music…..yet. I’ve been lucky for the last six or seven years, and haven’t had to attend a funeral or mourn the death of anyone close to me. The loss of these food items is probably the closest thing that I can think of (my 15 year old parakeet that died during the 2009 Super Bowl doesn’t count because he was an asshole).

I need closure. I’m not religious, so the only thing left to do is to play a song to set them free. This isn’t an easy task, and it makes me think about how I would like to be remembered at my death party (no funeral please, just lots of drinks and a playlist that I will have preselected in my will). I wouldn’t play anything sad, unless it was something ironic like Sarah McLachlan or a Jonas Brothers b-side (do they have sad songs, or even b-sides?). Something that personal is suitable for an entirely different blog post, so I need to concentrate on setting my lost snack foods free.

I think it’s important to think about the past and the beginning of your relationship with a snack/person when it’s time for closure, rather than the end. Also, when picking a funeral song, I think it’s important to accept the fact that the lyrics don’t have to literally apply, or even the overall meaning of the song. Maybe a phrase, a title, or a chorus verse is just enough to flash memories through the mind. I think I have the right song, even though it’s about sex and affairs.

In all honesty, I really just wanted to post this video with a sentence or two, but I got a bit carried away with snack foods because I don’t want to do my dishes. Anyway, “Do You Remember the First Time?” is an underrated song from the underrated Pulp, who are one of my favorites and who I wish everyone could be familiar with. 

RIP Cookies ‘n Cream Clif Bar.

RIP Starfruit Gatorade.

RIP Trader Joe’s Thai Lime & Chili Cashews.

I remember the first time. Miss you.

Name: Victoria Bergsman

Musical Projects: Taken by Trees (current), The Concretes (former singer)

Crushed on since: Fall 2004

Physical Traits She Shares with Me: Pale, skinny, dark brown hair, dark eyes, likes karate chops

BONUS INFO!: Bergsman writes really, really, really sad songs that make me like her solely for the fact that she might just need a giant hug and/or a non-abusive relationship, and perhaps I could provide such things…if I wasn’t a volatile, immature, single young male.

Name: Julie Budet

Musical Projects: Yelle (current)

Crushed on since: Summer 2008

Physical Traits She Shares with Me: Pale, skinny, dark brown hair, dark eyes, sponsored by Reebok

BONUS INFO!: Yelle is French, which turns her “up to 11″ for me, and she crafts insanely catchy electropop dance songs that I like to listen to on repeat while drinking, when my attention span is even shorter than normal.

Name: Justine Frischmann

Musical Projects: Elastica (former singer/guitarist), Suede (former guitarist)

Crushed on since: Spring 2008

Physical Traits She Shares with Me: Skinny, dark brown hair, dark eyes, pulls hair to cope with stress and/or migraines

BONUS INFO!: Frischmann wins points simply by being a key part of the mid-90′s Britpop movement with the highly underrated (at least in the US) Elastica. She also dated Damon Albarn of Blur. Unfortunately, I think she’s old now, so I guess I just have a crush on the past existence of someone I’ve never met. Makes me feel shallow/lonely/awesome/cold/confused/happy.

Name: Alice Glass

Musical Projects: Crystal Castles (current singer)

Crushed on since: Spring 2008

Physical Traits She Shares with Me: Pale, skinny, dark brown hair, dark eyes, enjoys black jackets, doesn’t get much sleep, dances awkwardly

BONUS INFO!: Glass has that batshit crazy appeal that usually leads to nothing but trouble. However, it’s still hilarious to think about, especially because in the end, being associated with her would probably end with bruises, debt, creative new dance moves, and a stint in rehab.

Name: Carrie Brownstein

Musical Projects: Sleater-Kinney (former lead guitar/backup singer)

Crushed on since: Summer 2005

Physical Traits She Shares with Me: Pale, skinny, dark brown hair, dark eyes, likes to high kick, and sometimes smiles

BONUS INFO!: Brownstein is an extremely skilled guitar player and soloist, and uses some fucking kickass effects for reverse delay guitar solos, etc., which I’m always a sucker for. Also, when she started to lend more lead vocals on Sleater-Kinney’s 2005 swan song, The Woods (my favorite album of 2005), I started to notice that she might have pulled her stylings from Elastica’s Justine Frischmann, who of course is also on this list. Also, Brownstein is fucking hilarious, has a noteworthy blog, and now has a mini webshow, ThunderAnt, with SNL cast member and former Trenchmouth drummer, Fred Armisen. Here’s a video from them:

9-year-old Me: That dog looks really scary. I’m going to draw a picture of it.

Me: Yeah, sure….um? Anyway, while Face Control does revolve around the same moodiness (anger, indifference, desparation, hesitance, semi-hope, non-smiles) as their debut, it manages to find a more consistent sound for the Furs, and its one that I didn’t really expect. Dan Boeckner’s vocals are louder, grittier, and more yelpy. There are more guitar solos and riffs (“I’m Confused”, “Talking Hotel Arbat Blues”), which are heavy on bite and distortion. While the synthesizer still takes a backseat ride for the most part, Alexei Perry lays heavier, louder, and more complex beats.

Within this, a heavy influence come out, and overall, the sound can best be pegged as a more punk, angsty, and guitar-driven New Order (see the “Temptation”-apeing “All We Want, Baby, Is Everything” for the best example), which I would never expected based on Plague Park. Luckily, I fucking adore New Order and never would have predicted their more clean, preppy image and sound to have an impact on Boeckner’s gritty and rural appearance and sound.

9-year-old Me: This sounds like Green Day + Smashing Pumpkins + Bush.

Me: Okay, whatever, just keep drawing your picture. You have a long way to go. You’ll show some promise in middle school by listening to Daft Punk and Chemical Brothers, but you won’t even realize how special they are, and you’ll start listening to Dave Matthews Band at the same time. It’s really confusing to me, but not as confusing as in high school when you still somehow liked Dave Matthews Band while enjoying Neutral Milk Hotel and Belle & Sebastian. You are a breathing, future paradox of mixed taste, you little shit.

9-year-old Me: But I like this! It rocks.

Me: That’s awesome. I really like it also. It’s hard to say if it will hold the same place in my heart as Plague Park, but it took me a year to realize I was in love with that album. I’m not sure how much depth there is to this yet, but between this and the new Animal Collective, 2009 is shaping up to be a pretty epic year so far. I’m sure there will be a new Sunset Rubdown from Boeckner’s Wolf Parade co-leader, Spencer Krug, and I’m interested to see if he can win me over from my recent leanings towards Boeckner’s gritty pop rock.

9-year-old Me: You are a huge dork.

Me: Yeah, well you have a lame haircut because your mom and dad are really conservative about appearance, even though they’re chill and cool about most other things.

9-year-old Me: I want a mohawk. LOOK! I’m done with my picture:

Me: Wow, apparently we still have the same sense of humor, you literal-minded little Microsoft Paint genius.

Handsome Furs “Talking Hotel Arbat Blues” (download)

I would normally post the playlist with a few tracks for you to stream or download, but I am going to be on the air next week to make up for the TECHNOLOFAIL this week, so I will post it then. Until then, I’m off to Portland for a few days, so there might be a short break on here, but maybe I’ll sneak a post or two in.

Unfortunately, it runs from 6am to 8am EST, which I have to try extra hard to wake up for at 5am Minneapolis time, but I usually drink about five cups of coffee and have a pretty alright time. However, if you happen to be up at such a time, you can call in at 617.253.8810 to harass us or make a request.

On a more positive note, you can stream it or download it as a podcast at any time, and I will post the links for you, along with the playlist, tomorrow morning.

Finally, here is a nice picture and a nice radio-titled song for you to listen to or download.

Spoon “Car Radio” from A Series of Sneaks: download

When it comes to Dan Boeckner of Wolf Parade and Handsome Furs (and formerly of Atlas Strategic), it’s not a question of whether or not he does cocaine, but rather,  ”How much does he spend on it per day?” See the evidence from these 2006 photos here:

Okay, let’s do the cokehead checklist:

• Sunken cheekbones: check
• Eerily veiny arms: check
• Tired eyelids: check
• Overall gaunt appearance: check
• Playing guitar: check
• Playing guitar while smoking: check
• Bathed in neon pink spotlights: check
• Battered Wives shirt: check

So, after a short evaluation, we know are dealing with an indie rockstar cokehead. Now, I wouldn’t have cared about this back in 2005, as I really only enjoyed Boeckner’s “Shine a Light” from Wolf Parade’s Apologies to the Queen Mary, but now that I respect his work with Handsome Furs (his “side project” with his wife, Alexei Perry) and on this year’s Wolf Parade release, At Mount Zoomer, I have started to grow a bit concerned about his seemingly deathly situation.

But hark, what came forth in the last few weeks? Promo photos for the new Handsome Furs release (coming 3/10), Face Control. What does that mean? Time to evaluate again:

Zing! First of all, these are some racy, fucking awesome rock and roll photos for a husband/wife team, but what’s more important is that Boeckner looks like he has gained at least 5 pounds! Way to go dude, you did it! Before I get too excited, let’s keep something in mind: lots of bands take press photos. They  move from city to city on tour, playing shows every night, and doing radio gigs and photo/interview sessions during their daily downtime. As much as you don’t want to believe it, it’s actually hard work.

However, album promo photos for moderately popular (and above) bands are usually a bigger concept and event than they may appear. The record label (if they have a good creative team, which Sub Pop does) takes the band’s persona, image, and brand into mind, meshes it with the sound of the new album, self-conducted band interviews, and the album cover art (if available at that time), and then finally creates a promo photo concept before hiring a photographer to execute.

What this means is that Handsome Furs were in a period of downtime during these sessions, and in addition to the fact that the female obviously has her coke habit under control based on my previous checklist, Boeckner has had time to clean up a bit compared to his past appearance and behavior. Good for him, especially considering that many of the songs on Face Control (and WP’s At Mount Zoomer) are about cocaine dependency in social situations in Russia and Eastern Europe. Although he obviously has a negatively skewed view on these situations, the feelings are obviously rooted in his own habits and weaknesses with the powdery abuse.

Is this going anywhere? Yes. So, Boeckner may look better, but he was in between albums and tours of his two bands, and Face Control and its accompanying tour are about to launch. So what’s the problem? Well, the album is fucking spectacular, and I expect that the band may reach levels of recognition similar to Wolf Parade as a result. However, this differs from Wolf Parade because of the fact that this isn’t a group of five young men. This is a husband and wife team, and a hardcore one at that.

This must be one giant honeymoon phase for the couple. They have to know they are about to break, but the real question is, “Then what?”

Sure, the deal might work out so well that Boeckner and Spencer Krug finally part their creative ways from Wolf Parade, and Handsome Furs create another spectacular album or two, but what is next? Realistically, this dream has to run out. Unless this is epically true love, it’s not always wise to mix work, pleasure, and relationships, because the novelty and fame are bound to wear off. At that point, all that’s left is what typically happens in any relationship: the charm, the butterflies, the excitement, the buzz, the uncertainty, the fear, the delight, the intimacy…..it leaves for the most part.

And what’s left? In this case, what would be left is one giant feeling of what once was every night during the peak of it all: hot stage lights on two united bodies. Pleasantly buzzing ears from distorted guitar and synth lines fed through amps and monitors. Sitting on backstage couches indulging in tabletop substances while a random local act is opening the show. Laboriously loading gear into the van and exhaustively passing out together in the backseat, which is too short, forcing legs to prop against the back window and the blood to rush to the head ever so slightly, intensifying the drunken but pleasant spins much more as sleep overcomes consciousness.

This yearning nostalgia might settle in seven years from now, or ten years from now, or two years from now, but when it does, I’m sure the only answer for Handsome Furs to try to reclaim their glory is drugs, which will inevitably mean a nasty, expensive habit, and hey! A Wolf Parade reunion to pay for it (note: they aren’t broken up yet)! If it’s ten years from now and they are all hiding in seclusion like Jeff Mangum, it could end up being a Neutral Milk Hotel-level reunion affair (I would play every dime I have to see a NMH rehash, actually). And then, Boeckner will probably die.

But then again, these are just some new press photos, and I like Handsome Furs way too much.

Download “Talking Hotel Arbat Blues” from the upcoming Handsome Furs album, Face Control.

Download ““Shine a Light” from Wolf Parade’s Apologies to the Queen Mary.

Hmmm…..where to begin? Well, first things first, you’re one bloke that I didn’t think would be properly alive after years of notoriously indulging in speedballs and STD-laden lasses like Winona Ryder and Courtney Love, but here you are (as am I). You’ve set me straight and I have a look on my face to match.

Now, don’t get me wrong lad, I’ve been around the block in my day as well, and I’m only just in the hangover stage of my time, but it seems like you’re enjoying this mish-mosh deep down, and that is the difference between our two selves. Although our personal images may disagree, I’ve fought the blue-collar path to fame with Pulp, and my, how easy you’ve had it since even the earliest times with Whiskeytown.

See, I wanted fame, Ryan. I didn’t just think that I wanted fame; I desired it. We had the tracks, the songs, the material for it when the 90′s rolled around, but I never considered the consequences (what fun are they?). Then “Common People” and Glasto ’95 happened, and I found myself in quite the pickle. In my seventeen years of songwriting at the time, I failed to realize that I relied on one thing for my craft: the power of observation. Unfortunately, I had just lost that little luxury: how does one who relies on watching others do so while in the everwatching eye of the public (flash! click! flash!)?

Well, you might think that the answer is “you give up”, but you would be rightly wrong. The answer is “the white stuff”, or in your case, “speedballs”. What better way to replace the necessary observation of others than to get properly fucked and observe your own self trying to observe what you no longer can? A mouthful there, I apologize, but also a mindful.

This was my blessing, Ryan; my curse. This was the hardcore that became This Is Hardcore. This was me. But what about you? You were different. You were sorted for the party before you even broke, and that makes us opposites, as polar as bears.

You loved being high as a kite, and the only thing that you loved more (well, other than a good shag or two I suppose) was to talk about how high your kite was flying. And now, here you are, more than ten solo albums later, and all you ever dribble on about is how very sober you are now, and how so very difficult this whole life is. This life is not difficult, Ryan. YOU are difficult, and although I do find it entertaining in a Neil-Young-this-is-the-story-of-a-Johnny-Rotten sort of way, you need to fucking stuff it.

Everyone liked you better when you were properly messed all the time, and it made your mediocre creative output tolerable. Now you don’t have that fence to lean on, and you’re shit. On top of that, you’re making a straight fool out of yourself with your online journal and all of its self-indulgence, public crushes, and sober rants about being just that.

With that canvas painted and wrapped, I was somewhat delighted when you announced your musical retirement last week. But Ryan, we all know it’s not true, and that’s the difference between me and you. I need to observe others in order to do what I do best, but you both love and need others to observe you in order to create output. We’re black and white. Wrong and right. Loose and tight.

Ryan, you’ll be back. Actually, I don’t think you’re even gone. I think you’re just feeding the pigs, and we both know how very hungry they always are. I’m not trying to scold you by pointing out our differences; I’m just trying to keep you relevant in 2009.

You know, I may seem like the opposite, but I’m quite introverted, and you are on the flip. You portray yourself as pensive and silently volatile, but really you’re as big of an extrovert as they come.

It comes down to this: I had to run away to survive, away from the lines, the festivals, the flashes. I didn’t need those, but you do and always have. So please, make your return, and when you do, I’m sincerely begging that you come surfing in on a wave of cocaine, with a fag in your mouth and a whiskey in each hand.

Cheers,

Jarvis

I thought my love for this track was owed to the blend of tastefully minimal production, the whole cute French girl vibe,  and of course sick sick melodies that stand out due to the fact that I don’t know how in the hell to understand or speak a lick of French (don’t tell the Cambridge French faculty, LOL, so embarassing).

Anyway, so I was pumping this hard on my mad awesome custom B&O system in my motorcycle garage after I made some frozen pizza an hour ago, and like I said before, it was just like, “FLARK”, now I get it! It’s all in the song structure.

Okay, I know what you’re thinking: “Duh, Hawkman, it’s a POP song, and those are always about structure.” And you’re right, but this isn’t some run-of-the-mill AABA-structured shit that we’re talking about here, this is a level of genius that I can’t even touch (or even conceptually touch with some crazy blackboard equation jargon, and you know how I’m all about that normally).

Okay, you should rock this jam first, btw guys (or download):

Here’s how I thought this song was structured before this hell of an awesome day:

Chorus / Verse / Chorus / Verse / Bridge / Chorus

Okay, okay, pretty standard, right. But today, when I actually listened today and discovered the real source of awesome in the song, I realized it was this:

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Chorus (and a great one, right? Wowzers.)

Verse

Chorus

Verse

Pre-Chorus (dank!)

Chorus

Post-Chorus

Vocal Bridge (oh shit!)

Instrumental Bridge (OMG!)

Chorus (THIS IS POP MUSIC EUPHORIA RIGHT HERE, MAN)

Outro

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Ain’t that some shit, right? Now, I’m no genius or anything, but that is some complex, complicated, unbelievable songwriting, and I think I’m in love  with life and myself on such a deep new level that only aliens probably understand. I don’t know what this baguette-loving homegirl is on, but if you give me some, I’ll be able to drop the meaning of life on you in two hours flat. Not even JK’ing you.

TTYL! Hawkman out!