I decided to head to Boulder Coffee Co.
(100 Alexander St.) to check out the show. I only stayed through most of Arms and Sleepers'
set — arriving after they started and leaving after they finished. I thought they were a really good ambient/drone band. I'd like to have stayed for the rest of the show but I had other things to attend to.
The Bug Jar (219 Monroe Ave.) was having a good show tonight and Ali and I got to join in on the fun. First up was The Lobster Quadrille who did a very polished set of their own satirical gospel — even incorporating a bit of Vaudeville-like sketches. Ali headed home early but I stayed for Telephone Jim Jesus. I really didn't care for it … I think I would have been more lenient if the guy were younger. He did loud laptop-based beats with video, but it failed to really grab me … rather, I was kind of annoyed by it. Finishing up were Sole and the Skyrider Band who were a great live hip-hop band. Unfortunately I was getting tired fast and went home early … I'd love to have stayed, though.
I headed to The Bug Jar (219 Monroe Ave.) to check out the music — despite having the lingering tail of a cold. When I got there, Electric Organic was playing. At the time it was just one guy: he said something about having a band but I didn't catch the details. Anyway, he did some great singing with an acoustic guitar. He seemed quite proficient with it although he limited his style to something akin to down-tempo Neil Young (with a bit of Dylan thrown in as well.)
I didn't stay for all of John Mossey's set. He played with a guy on electric piano doing acoustic rock. His guitar kind of sums it up for me: it had a wood front and a rounded, molded plastic back. I mean, there's nothing wrong with it — it produces decent, moderately warm harmony. Obviously, it doesn't have the rich sound of a well-seasoned wood guitar, but it gets the job done. Like, well John Mossey: he does just fine.
Ali and I headed to Boulder Coffee Co. (100 Alexander St.) to check out the show. When we got there Jim Colby was playing — he played acoustic guitar and generally sounded good although I couldn't seem to immerse myself in his lyrics. Next was Otto Hauser and Ben McConnell. They set up like "dueling drummers" and played off one another. It seemed experimental and improvisational so I liked it a lot. I also found that I stayed interested despite that it was, well, just a couple guys playing drums.
The only thing to taint the evening, though, was that Boulder kept the house music on while the DJ's were playing between sets. Ali and I were between the two rooms so it made for a disorienting amalgam of music. I guess it was kind of interesting sometimes and annoying other times.
After the movie, Ali and I went to The Bug Jar (219 Monroe Ave.) and met up with our friend Stacie to see the bands playing that night.
I got in to see a few songs from Tiger Cried Beef and they always impress me. They're like gourmet vanilla: at first, you're like, "oh, I've seen this before," but then you get into the subtleties and think, "oh, yeah, but this can be really good." I also noticed that good ideas sprout from my spot leaning against the right-side speaker [with earplugs, by the way, which happen to serve two purposes: not blowing out my eardrums, and drowning out the distracting chatter.] It's not with every band or every time, but I find that poetry makes me think of stuff — you know, new things to do or work on.
Anyway, next up was The White Devils. This is Frank De Blase's band and for anybody who knows me, I have a mix of feelings about the guy. It usually comes out looking like disdain, but it's really more complicated than that.
See he's one of the main music writers for The City Newspaper so there's a certain amount of empathetic envy (or envious empathy) since I kind of do the same thing sometimes — the dichotomy comes from the fact that he gets paid for it, but I can see myself getting annoyed that it's often a shit job. I mean, sure you get paid to write about bands, but you also have to write fluffy pieces about bands you don't really care about, and you get slammed for being a critic by — in his case — your fellow musicians.
Now I've also met him a few times. A couple years ago, I remember having a nice chat about writing about music at California Rollin' at Village Gate Square (274 N. Goodman St.). He seemed like a nice guy, but either forgot who I was or didn't want to talk to me the next time I saw him. And again, I'm mixed on his response. On the one hand you can't be friends with everyone you meet, and not everybody can do that "such a nice guy front" (and I know I can't do it consistently). On the other, I think if you have a pleasant conversation with someone and you see them again, I kind of expect that there would be an inkling of recognition. But then I also know that it's hard to remember everyone. And then I hear from his friends that he's really a nice guy. And then I hear from his detractors that he's not a nice guy.
Worst of all is that I bother expending all this effort trying to accurately express how I feel about him when I don't really want to be friends with him [no offense, Frank, if you're reading this]. His band does a bluesy rock that I'm not a fan of. If I read him right, he's into pin-up culture and busty women; biker bars and greaser-chic. I'm just not into that stuff — none of it. It's just that we both happen to write about what's going on in town.
I guess the thing is that he's writing for City. And I assume there are lots of readers and most of them agree with Frank's assessment and preferences [logically I know this is a flawed assumption but I can't seem to convince my heart]. But I wish that this quantity of N readers (where N is really fucking large) would actually like the kind of stuff that I connect with. But then I think, "why? who cares?" I get unlimited latitude in what I feel like writing about and what I feel like putting on the events list. I'm not out to win any popularity contest because I'm unwilling to make that devil's deal trading "self" for "popular". I just figure there's got to be a way …
But anyway, his band is good, even if it's not the kind of music I'm into.
Closing things out that night was The Sadies who always put on a great show. It's all about the music although they look good doing it. And I really like them even though they play the country-cousin of bluesy-rock: rockabilly. Well, rockabilly with generous helpings of surf-rock thrown in. I feel bad because I don't have a lot of things to say about bands I like — I guess I figure it doesn't do much to try and explain in words what you hear-that-becomes-feel. Just sound and motion and an emotional connection, I guess. Oh, and fun. Lots of fun.
I headed down to Monty's Krown (875 Monroe Ave.) to check out the bands there. It's been a long time since I last visited — I think the last time was in July. Anyway, I had a great time … just like "old times". I talked with a friend of mine and he said that this was about as good as it gets. Usually it's just the usual crowd consisting of a fair number of heavy-drinking old metal heads. But even that has appeal and brings back memories — memories punctuated by missing parts, but memories nonetheless.
Anyway, the first band up was Cavalcade who played some solidly good hard rock. Old Boy followed them and were fantastic as usual. So far I've seen them twice and both times I was really blown away. I guess it pays to front a hard acoustic-rock band with three excellent guitarists and back it up with electric bass and a solid drummer.
I headed to The California Brew Haus (402 West Ridge Rd.) for Nipplepalooza III. I got there just when the show started although I guess I missed Rob Balder. I did get to see him emcee the show, though and he was good in that context at least. When I arrived, Ookla The Mok had just taken to the stage. I think they're pretty funny but they have this groove-rock, full-fledged song mentality that really doesn't sit well with a one-joke song. Next was Worm Quartet who follow the traditional form of novelty songs: only go as long as is necessary. And fast. And sometimes absurdly short — but always really quite funny. Next was Carla Ulbrich, a funny, witty acoustic soloist … chatty and friendly too. Closing the night was Sudden Death who did novelty hip-hop of a caliber similar to Worm Quartet but with videos to go along with it.
I headed out to Boulder Coffee Co. (100 Alexander St.) to check out the show. I was looking to finally see The Varnish Cooks but they weren't playing — instead, the show started with City Harvest Black which is a guy in a white mask with horns doing noise-based loops and haunting voices. I liked it but it's not the kind of music that has a huge following. Next was Horseback who do rich, thick atmospheric instrumental followed by Mike Tamburo who started out with a hammer dulcimer — I think — and had a light, airy, atmospheric presence.