I Am Freaking Out

When you listen to an album the second time through, and you find yourself alone in your car on track 2 screaming "OH MY GOD" at the top of your lungs, you know some magic is happening.

The Arcade Fire, from Montreal, Canada, have released an album called "Funeral." To put it as simply as I can, I have not felt this way about an album since I first heard "OK Computer" lo those many years ago. Which is to say, "Funeral" is a damn near perfect record.

As I do, I will attempt to describe this band, as difficult as it may be. I'm thinking the good parts of the Polyphonic Spree (who I really want to punch repeatedly in the neck, all 17 billion of them... but Arcade Fire takes from the parts of the Polyphonic Spree that don't turn me into a violent neck-puncher, if that makes any sense), a little bit of Talking Heads, a dash of Sugarcubes (complete with some soaring Bjork-esque moments in the final track, "The Backseat")... and even a little Modest Mouse thrown in for good measure. And again, Polyphonic Spree and Modest Mouse do not make me happy, but somehow when they're mixed with Talking Heads and Sugarcubes in the form of the Arcade Fire, they make me scream "OH MY GOD" while listening to the disk. Life is so weird.

I'd heard a couple of songs on KEXP and thought, "yea I could see that." Then I thought about the possibility of becoming interested enough to download the disk. Then I just did, because I was bored. The first track, the incredibly oddly named "Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)," planted a perma-grin on my face that made me look like a complete lunatic. The second track, equally oddly-titled, "Neighborhood #2 (Laika)," didn't grab me at first listen. At second listen, I almost drove off the road... it just blew me. The fuck. Away. How does a song do that? How? HOW?

The record flows together with orchestral sweeps and pounding, simple rhythm... with lots and lots of instruments. Maybe that's why it reminds me a bit of the Polyphonic Spree, because it sounds like the studio is standing-room only. And they have the weirdest titles for songs ever, and the most incomprehensible website I have ever seen in my life. But don't let either of those things fool you.

The music is just... addictive. Incredibly moving, passionate, epic... at times uplifting and invigorating, others sad and contemplative. The voice of Win Butler is what makes me think of Modest Mouse, and even though it would never stand on its own, it works so perfectly with what they're doing here, no one else can sing it. Except for, "The Backseat," which Win's wife and musical genius Régine Chassagne sings, and which is where she brings the Bjorkage.

I wish I could think of more adjectives for "genius," "groundbreaking," "inspiring," etc. and so on, but I think the Arcade Fire have sucked the life out of me. Seriously, I would be listening to the album, then some annoying little thought about some annoying little event during my day that pissed me off would enter my head... and literally I would think, "ok... listening to the Arcade Fire. Stop thinking about anything else, and just emmerse yourself." Creepily enough, it worked.

I am seriously freaking out a little bit over this one. Well, actually, a lot. I actually sought out traffic to be stuck in so I could listen to this again and again. If I had one complaint, it's that the record too short (only 10 tracks). And that's more of a whine than a complaint. Go. Listen. Buy. This is some of the most important music I've heard in years.

Good Record. Bad Name.

As my DJ John Richards (90.3 KEXP) said this morning after playing the song "Lounger" from Dogs Die in Hot Cars' debut album "Please Describe Yourself," this band is proof that every name for a band has been taken. Honestly, the name of this band is *almost*, but not *quite*, as bad as my all-time favorite terrible band name, the Awesomeologists. I've never heard the Awesomeologists, so I don't know if they can surpass the horror of that name. I have, however, heard Dogs Die in Hot Cars, and I know that they can.

Straight outta Scotland, Dogs Die in Hot Cars recorded this debut in what's affectionately known as 1066 Country, south of London. It's called 1066 Country because it's in and around the area where the Battle of Hastings was fought in 1066, where the last Anglo-Saxon king was killed and the Norman William the Conquerer grabbed the reigns of the British Empire. Know who else is from 1066 Country? Yea that's right, Keane. Do Dogs Die in Hot Cars (it actually pains me to write that name... calling them DDIHC from now on) sound anything like Keane? Why no. No they don't.

How to describe DDIHC? The voice of Craig Macintosh reminds me a bit of the guy from stellastarr*, only not as kitchy, and even a bit like that of Colin Hay, circa Men At Work. The sound? They blend ska, 80s pop, and even a little good ol' fashioned American grunge to create something that's actually truly unique. I'm getting a kind of English Beat/Sparks/Oingo Boingo feeling from the whole thing. They're being compared to XTC as well, which I can definitely hear, but they're much more ska than XTC. There is an Andy Partridge-osity about Macintosh's voice though, no doubt about it.

But the hooks. Aaaaaaaaahhh the hooks. DDIHC is all about those catchy, can't-get-em-outta-your-head hooks. "I Love You Cause I Have To" is one of the most infectious songs I've heard in ages. "Lounger" blends truly memorable lyrics (about that first blush of freedom when you leave school, move out of your parents' house and out into the real world... what a great subject to turn into song) with a driving, tribal drumbeat and poppy, catchy guitars that really makes it impossible to get out of one's head. If one were so inclined to get it out of one's head which I, for one, am not.

There are a few standouts on this debut, like the aforementioned two. Plus "Paul Newman's Eyes," and "Celebrity Sanctum" are just as compelling, both lyrically and sonically. The album as a whole blends well together, as they are able to hold their sound intact through each song without it becoming tired (like the Strokes were notably unable to do). It's good, light listening, and it's quite a happy little record. I wouldn't say it's one of the best I've heard, as I think these guys have a bit more work to do before they blow me away. For a first record though, it's an excellent shot out, and they take this whole 80s craze to interesting new heights.

Mike Skinner Don't Come For Free

Ha. Isn't that a funny play on words? See Mike Skinner is the guy behind The Streets, and his new album is called "A Grand Don't Come for Free." See what I did there? I am a genius. A true artistic genius. Represent, yo.

So you know how everyone hates Eminem? Please don't be hatin'. Seriously, even though I know some of his songs are really offensive, what he's able to do with rhyme and theme and all that is really stunning, whether you love him or hate him. So take all the highly offensive bits out of Eminem, put him in London, and basically, you've got Mike Skinner.

What Skinner has done on this latest album is to present a sort of rock opera of an ordinary, banal life. He starts the record out with a song about how he had a list of things to do in one day, but everything kept getting fucked up, and nothing got done, so he should just be lying on his couch, like he knows how. To quote. From there, it takes you through a week or a month or a year in the life, from meeting his girlfriend, to taking drugs one night, to finding out his girlfriend's cheating on him (in the truly beautiful "Dry Your Eyes")... running the whole gammot of ordinary boy events.

To be honest, when I heard the first cuts off of Skinner's debut, "Original Pirate Material," it took a while for his cadence to grow on me. With "A Grand Don't Come For Free," the whole thing is so effortlessly conversational and so endlessly relatable, I had no choice but to fall in love with it. It's another one of those albums that I can't listen to in the background... I just love the way Mike Skinner forms his thoughts and rhymes, and I love the stilted choruses. One of my favorites, from "Could Well Be In," is the chorus, "I saw this thing on I-TV the other week. Said if she played with her hair she's prob'ly keen. She's playing with her hair, well regularly. So I reckon I could be well be in." Doesn't that sound like an e-mail you'd send a friend after your first date with someone?

If the old gangster rap was a commentary on life in South Central LA or the mean streets of New York, The Streets is a commentary about the life of being in your 20s and living paycheck to paycheck. But whereas most gangster rap was only relatable to a small percentage of the population (i.e. people who live those specific experiences in those specific areas of the world), Mike Skinner is talking about things that literally every person of a certain age can point to and say, "damn, yea, I've had one of those days," no matter which corner of the globe you're from. And it's all done beautifully, with an ear for not only classic rap, but R&B and New Wave and even a little modern techno.

Skinner might write about being average and living an average life, but this is not average talent. This is a masterwork. And still, I can't get "Fit But You Know It," out of my head...

Top 10 Albums of 2004

10. Snow Patrol - Final Straw
A wonderful, catchy, pop-driven record from the Scottish band of happy campers, "Final Straw" hits you over and over again with hooks that stand strong among the indie music elite. This is coming in at #10 because Gary Lightbody has some work to do on his lyrics. The music itself is bordering on genius, but his lyrics lack maturity. Also, get rid of the breathy singing, and you've got a recipie for greatness.

9. Trashcan Sinatras - Weightlifting
It was a sad, sad day when the Trashcan Sinatras faded from view after their last UK-only release, "A Happy Pocket." The Scottish band were the forerunners of a sound picked up by everyone from early Radiohead to Franz Ferdinand. They're back though, with a record that definitely does show their age (which is why they're at #9), but has some of the brightest spots on any record this year. If you can listen to "Got Carried Away" without getting choked up, you've got no soul. Frances Reader's vunerable, water-like voice has only improved with age, making it even more heartbreaking than before. Brilliant comeback.

8. Garden State Soundtrack
I hate to add a soundtrack on this list, but look at some of the stuff included on this: two from The Shins, Zero 7, Coldplay, Nick Drake, Frou Frou, Colin Hay, and a Postal Service cover by Iron and Wine? You simply cannot beat it. The best compilation in years, hands down.

7. Aqualung - Still Life
Beautiful, breathtaking, subtle, delicate... all these words come to mind while listening to this simply stunning disk. "Brighter Than Sunshine" is probably the most uplifting lovesong ever written. Singer/songwriter Matt Hales is classically trained, and he's filtered that training into this gorgeous, simple pop that just flows brilliantly.

6. Interpol – Antics
The New York band's follow-up to the updated Joy Division vibe of "Turn on the Bright Lights" is far better than the prior. It's more experimental, lyrically more interesting, yet simpler and not trying quite as hard. I'm not sure how that's possible, but they've done it. This is a sophomore release that proves Interpol will be a force to reckon with for years to come.

5. Nick Cave - Abattoir Blues/Lyre of Orpheus
Nick Cave is a poet. The poetry is whispering, intense, brilliant. This is not a record to listen to in the background... this one demands every ounce of your attention. You need to concentrate on what he's saying, and how he's saying it. It's intelligent and witty, it's sad and lovely, it's a testament to a great man who's matured in a way that few artists can hope to imitate, but all should aspire to.

4. The Streets - A Grand Don't Come For Free
It took me a while to love Mike Skinner, and now I just can't let him go. He can take the simplest concept of the everyday little struggles that's a part of each of our lives, and he turns it into urban poetry that literally every person of a certain age can relate with, no matter which side of the world they live on. This is a more introspective album than his last, and it shows how he's grown as an artist and as a musician. It's a record that has you laughing and crying and thinking and begging for more. I can't wait to see what he comes up with next.

3. The Killers - Hot Fuss
Ok, we all know about the 80s invasion, the 80s flashback, the everything 80s, the hey-weren't-the-80's-cool time we all live in. Scratch the surface of the Psychedelic Furs-meets-Duran Duran-ity of The Killers and you'll find that Brandon Flowers has one of the best voices in music today, the lyrics are simple but have some deeply intelligent spice thrown in (the Biblical flashback of "turning snakes into the sea," in the paranoid jealousy song, "Mr. Brightside," is just one example)... all wrapped within jump-off-your-seat and dance music just makes for one hell of a good record.

2. Franz Ferdinand - Franz Ferdinand
Without a doubt the most important indie record of the year. Put the Plimsouls, Haircut 100, and Bryan Ferry's swagger from 80s-era Roxy Music into a blender, and out comes Franz Ferdinand. The deeply layered music, gender-bending lyrics, and Alex Kapranos' sexy, loungey, Peter Murphy-esque vocals pull you in for the most listenable and interesting music I've heard in a long time. Just because someone says a record is important doesn't mean you should buy it. Listen to "Take Me Out," and "Darts of Pleasure," and I dare you not to fall in love with it.

1. Keane - Hopes and Fears
The first time I heard a Keane song, "Somewhere Only We Know," I thought it was good. The second time I heard it, I thought the singer had a great voice. The third time I heard it, I listened to the lyrics closely and it reminded me of a dream or a memory... I couldn't tell which. Then I heard the whole record, starting with "Bedshaped," and have not felt that way about a band or a record in recent memory. Every song is an absolute masterpiece of emotion and honesty. Sonically, the songs blend together perfectly without all sounding the same (quite a feat, as pianist Tim Rice-Oxley writes all the songs), creating one of the most well-constructed albums I've ever heard. Tom Chaplin's voice is not of this world... I'm still not convinced he's human. Richard Hughes is simply one of the best drummers working today. The album as a whole is an epic, moving tribute to love and loss and friendship and insecurity. I can't seem to get sick of it, and I can't seem to listen to it enough. This is, without a doubt, the best album of 2004.

KMTT Deck the Hall Ball -- You Know, For Kids!

At the Key Arena, of all places, KMTT (The End) held its annual Deck the Hall Ball. To reflect its new format (i.e. less Linkin Park, more Killers... or something to that effect), the lineup this year was an indie heavyweight blowout, featuring Snow Patrol, Keane, The Shins, The Killers, Franz Ferdinand, and local boys made good, Modest Mouse.

So seriously, Key Arena? KEY ARENA?!? Come on, people. When it was called the Coliseum, we knew the accoustics were horrific in there for shows. Just because Key Bank spent some money to change its name doesn't mean the accoustics have improved at all. And plus, it's just huge. I think KMTT would have served its listeners much better by holding this event in the more intimate Paramount or even the Moore. Yea, less people could have attended and it wouldn't have been GA, but would that have been so bad? At least we could have seen these bands as they're meant to be seen... in a theater atmosphere with a design built for accoustics. The Key Arena is a basketball stadium, seriously.

Snow Patrol, from Scotland, hit the stage first and shocked the heck out of people who had just heard their single, "Run," on MTV2, which was most of the very very very underage audience. All around us I could hear people saying, "wow they're much harder live than I would have expected." Basically Snow Patrol are a band best served live. Gary Lightbody's voice translates beautifully when you're hearing him singing in front of you... recorded he sounds breathy and affected. Live he sounds strong and powerful. They showed off their chops and really kicked off the whole evening on a high note.

Next was Keane, from England. The crowd was a bit confused as to who Keane actually were, but that didn't stop these three guys, one on drums, one on piano, and one voice, from putting everything they had into the performance. At one point I thought Tim Rice-Oxley, pianist/songwriter, was going to just launch off his chair and spiral into the audience, he was rocking out so hard. Frontman Tom Chaplin's voice was as transcendant as ever, with the new effects at the end of their traditional closer, "Bedshaped," being so breathtakingly beautiful that I think I lost conciousness for a minute there. If the crowd hadn't heard of Keane before, they certainly know who they are now.

Coming up next were The Shins, from New Mexico and Portland, the nicest band in rock. They are truly The Band Who Will Do Your Chores. Instead of the typical roadies setting up the stage for them, the guys walked on and tuned their own instruments. Most of the audience (did I mention they were very very very underage? Yea) had no idea who they were as they tuned their guitars, did their mic checks, and wandered around, stopping every once in a while to wave at the crowd. It was beyond cool. As with Keane, I don't think the crowd really got who The Shins are. They are not a barnstorming live act, and I think they were much too "indie" for the crowd. The lyrics are practically unsingable, as they're so intelligent and verbose, there's not a whole lot to grasp on to. Also, James Mercer has a very small voice. The juxtaposition between Tom Chaplin's strong, soaring, clear vocals and Mercer's small, quiet voice was a little too obvious. They seemed to be swallowed by the enormity of Key Arena, which is really a shame. Basically they were in the exact wrong place in the lineup - they should have been first, but having them on 3rd just highlighted their obvious differences from the other acts, and it lost any momentum Snow Patrol and Keane had gained with the audience.

After The Shins, again highlighting the weirdness of the lineup order, came The Killers, from Las Vegas, of all places. This was very much a Killers crowd. Everyone literally lost their minds when The Killers took the stage. The floor was PACKED, and people were just freaking out. The Killers were flawless. All wearning red velvet blazers, white shirts, and little skinny black ties, with their rinestone encrusted synthesizer center stage, they brought the 80s with a vengeance. Frontman Brandon Flowers strutted and showed a bit too much attitude and too little emotion, but that voice was really flawless as they blazed through a set which included their hits (and crowd favorites), "Somebody Told Me," and "Mr. Brightside." It was, without a doubt, a blistering set.

Coming up next were Franz Ferdinand, from Scotland. Franz Ferdinand has released probably the most important indie record of the year, and have become one of the most respected acts in music. If you put the Plimsouls, Haircut 100, and Roxy Music in a blender, basically what you would pour out is Franz Ferdinand. I know it sounds weird, but trust me. It works. I had heard they put on an amazing live show, but nothing prepared me for what I was about to see. Their amps were all color-coordinated, in a tasteful burnt orange, and they all came out, skinny ties, skinny legs, and silky shirts. They were simply a joy to watch. They were one of those rare acts that you wish would never end. Onstage their a bit reminiscent of DEVO, with their jerky dancing and marching around. They have this way of connecting with a crowd that's just rare these days... they're all energy and loungey, sexy humor, and somehow actually come off as rock gods, even though they're skinny little white kids from Scotland. Although I was nervous that Franz wouldn't be able to hold the crowd after The Killers, they worked their asses off and maintained the energy level into Modest Mouse.

Speaking of Modest Mouse, I have to be honest. I don't like their music, so I didn't stay past my bedtime to see them. Come on, give me a break. I'm no spring chicken, and I had to get up early the next day.

On the whole, the show was a smashing success. The only real complaints I have were the choice of venue (sooooo not right for bands of this style. It just doesn't work) and the order of the lineup. The lineup itself, with the exception of Modest Mouse, I could not have wished for in my wildest dreams. It was just unbelievable. But next time, I think maybe the organizers should actually listen to the music and order the bands accordingly. Snow Patrol is not an opening band. They rip the place up, as anyone who has seen them live can attest. The Shins, with a lineup like this, most definitely are an opener. And The Killers should have followed Franz Ferdinand, not vice versa. You know, stuff like that. Otherwise? Good on ya, KMTT. Your first Deck the Hall Ball with the new format worked! People like you! They really like you!

Keane Loves Me

So the excitement about Keane at the Fillmore in San Francisco is twofold. First of all, I live in Seattle, so I got to fly to San Francisco, eat amazing sushi, and ride in taxis with really, really nice taxi drivers. The Fillmore is the historic venue, opened in 1912, that has played host to the legends, the biggies, the nobility of music, like Ike & Tina Turner, James Brown, Jefferson Airplane, the Grateful Dead... oh you get the idea. Really amazing history, drop-dead gorgeous venue... yea, I was excited.

So Keane, as you may or may not know, are three guys from England (Battle, East Sussex, to be precise). They've known each other forever... literally. One was in the hospital on the day another was born. Now that's destiny, baby. They all went to school together and thought it would be an excellent idea to form a band, so they did. At first they had a guitar player, but he left after years of the band getting nowhere. So instead of messing with the chemistry and all that, they decided to just be a three-piece and see what they could work with. The guy who played bass decided to jump on the piano, and the Keane we know today was born.

Tim Rice-Oxley plays the piano, bass, keyboards, and writes the songs. He's a busy, busy man. Richard Hughes is the drummer prodigy who has never taken lessons, but is somehow one of the best drummers working today. Tom Chaplin is the singer, and to say his voice is unearthly is an understatement. His voice sounds kind of like an extremely well-trained Thom Yorke, except better, and except Chaplin is not actually trained. I mean, he was in choir... I guess that counts.

Keane have one album out, which was released earlier this year, called "Hopes & Fears." They've been touring around promoting it all year, in a marathon of trans-Atlantic insanity that would drive even the most seasoned musician into a fetal position in the corner of the tour bus. They are right now finishing up a little mini-tour of the West coast (again) before heading to Japan, then breaking for Christmas. San Francisco was their first stop.

So I flew down to the Land of Extremely Friendly Taxi Drivers to see Keane play on Thursday, Dec. 2nd at the Fillmore. Supporting Keane were The Dears, from Montreal. While dining on $13 chicken strips and drinking one too many vodka tonics, The Dears took the stage... all 15,000 of them. Well, that's an exaggeration, there weren't 15,000 of them. But there were a lot of them. They basically blew the lid off the place. In a testament to great support acts everywhere, I am right now ordering one of their disks for my listening pleasure. Go Dears!

Keane took the stage with their traditional show-opener, "Can't Stop Now," a pounder that for some reason reminds me of an old Elton John song, although I can't think of which one. I know, I'm weird. Anyway, it always starts the show off on a high note, and this night it didn't disappoint.

The crowd went crazy, and didn't calm down until the closing strains of "Bedshaped," about an hour later.

How a band with three members, two of whom are strapped behind their instruments, can put on a show with such incredible energy is beyond me.

Richard Hughes puts his whole body into his drums, head nodding, arms and legs beating, face in a huuuuge smile that probably doesn't go away until he's alone in his hotel room at the end of the night. Someone who enjoys what he does that much should be paid double, I think.

Tim Rice-Oxley simply rocks the fuck out. He's standing, he's sitting, he's rocking back and forth, he's banging his freshly-shorn head... he's like a guitar player, only sitting down and the piano. He's just started singing back up on this later leg of the tour, but unfortunately they had his mic turned down so much that I couldn't hear him. Either that or Tom Chaplin's vocals are just too powerful to support a backup singer.

In Keane's early days, a sound tech once told Tom Chaplin that he had the loudest voice he'd ever heard. Well, he still does. In both shows I've seen, he's about to blow the speakers out with those pipes. As usual, the vocals were simply flawless. Not a missed note, not a hesitation, just pure beauty and strength. I'm serious when I say that I'm not really convinced he's human. I mean, he seems normal enough... until he starts singing. That boy's got a gift... luckily he's using it to the fullest.

They played two new songs, "Nothing in Your Way," and "Hamburg Song," both of which will hopefully be on the new album. "Nothing in Your Way" is destined to be another "Somewhere Only We Know," the Bowie-esque anthem from "Hopes & Fears," and probably Keane's best known song. "Hamburg Song," is simply one of the most beautiful songs I've ever heard. Chaplin sidled up to the keyboards and did a little sound layering with Rice-Oxley, and it was just breathtaking. For the first song of their encore, they played the delicate "Allemande," which brought the house to a moment of suspended animation.

Tom Chaplin is a fantastic frontman in the making. Though not as energetic this night as when I'd seen him before, he was chatty and humble at the mic, and still threw out some of his Bono-esque strutting, kneeling, and pouting. Much to the shrieking crowd's delight, he changed a lyric in "Somewhere Only We Know," from "so why don't we go..." to "hey San Francisco!" Everyone went insane, of course. He is able to make eye contact with as many individuals in the audience as possible, also. After a show sometime, ask a female audience member if she thought he was singing *just* to her at one point, and invariably the answer will be a swooning, "yeeees!" If every girl in the audience can leave a show thinking, "damn, that singer TOTALLY wanted me," then the singer has done his job, and has done it well.

The band are still working out the rough patches though. The backup vocals should be turned up, the lead vocals need to be turned down (I'm not kidding about those speakers shuttering - the voice is too strong), and Tom Chaplin needs to relax a little more between songs; his chatter sometimes sounds awkward and nervous. The show could also be a little longer, but it's difficult when you only have one album out, so I'm sure the next tour will be more extended. Otherwise, these guys are naturals. Musically, the show is absolute perfection. The sell-out crowd was as enthusiastic as any I've ever seen.

It's always interesting to see a band just on the cusp of breaking big in the States. They're already a supergroup in England, and it's only a matter of time before they're all over the place here. I think the release of the next album just might do it for them.

The Trashcan Sinatras Hate Me

So back in the good old days, when I was still wearing baby doll dresses, Doc Martens, drinking 9 vodka tonics at one sitting, and stalking Eddie Vedder, a little band quietly poked its head around the corner and said hello. Then, just as quickly as they came, they left.

It was the early 90s, and the band was called the Trashcan Sinatras. They were from Scotland, which meant I was destined to love them without hearing a single note of their music. Luckily, when I did put in the disk, they didn't let me down. Lead singer Frances Reader had a voice reminiscent of Roddy Frame from Aztec Camera, and the music itself was kind of Housemartins meets The Proclaimers, which is really really weird. But it worked.

They released 2 albums, "Cake," and "I've Seen Everything" here in the States, then "A Happy Pocket" in the UK only. Then they filed for bankruptcy. Sad, sad Trashcans.

Well, they got their shiznit together and released their fourth album this year, "Weightlifting." Which, of course, means a tour to support the album, so...

Yes, that's right, they're back and... well... REALLY pissed off, apparently.

That was, without a doubt, the strangest show I have ever seen. The lead singer did admit to being hungover, but I have never seen a band less into playing in my life.

Mind you, I may be a bit jaded. That same month I had already seen Keane and Snow Patrol, two of the happiest groups of people in all the land. Tom Chaplin, Keane's singer, just kept hopping up and down, clapping his hands like the special winner he is. Gary Lightbody, Snow Patrol's frontman, jumped into the crowd and just made out with random people, he loved us so much. Well, that's a lie, but it was A LOT like that.

These guys? These guys looked like I look when my boss asks me to make copies. I'm a web designer, but whatever. Fine. It's a job, I'll make your fucking copies because I'm too much of a pussy to say no, so fuck off. But the thing is, like me with my boss, they were perfectly polite to the audience, thanking us and the whole thing. They just... my god. There was a lot of sighing and running their fingers through their hair in that exasperated kind of way - not trying to be moody, not trying to be sexy, but obviously bored, irritated, and just, well, you know.

For their first encore (and yes, they did TWO in this condition), the lead singer, and I WISH I was kidding, finished his dinner during the first half of "Obscurity Knocks" (first song off their first album, "Cake"). The kid was visibly CHEWING. And when I say 'kid,' I mean he's like 40 now.

He pushed his food into the corner of his mouth, would sing a verse, then continue chewing until the next verse. "Obscurity Knocks" is one of my favorite songs of all time, and I would have been pissed if he'd fucked it up because his damned pita bread got in the way. But no... the song was flawless and I freaked out.

If Tom Chaplin from Keane tried to eat while singing, he'd be choking to death within 5 seconds.

And it would have been one thing if it was just the lead singer. The whole BAND was irritated, standing motionless, staring at their shoes, dispassionately strumming or hitting or plunking, whatever they were doing. Yet some how, they are some of the best musicians I've ever seen. They just... welll... weren't really that into it.

Of course, they may be terrible on stage, but Frances Reader's voice is incredibly beautiful, lilting, vunerable... it sounds like water, if that's possible. It's actually gotten better with age. The musicianship is flawless. The songwriting is pure genius. They just really hated every minute they had to be up there, including their two encores.

You know, I know they've had some hard times. They know how talented they are, and they never made the big bucks. I get it. Maybe this *is* 'just a job' to them. But my GOD at least try to LOOK like you like what you're doing, ya know? Damn.

Poor kids. Really unbelievable music, though.

Switchin' Up The Munchkin

Ok, I'm going to start using this rather meandering blog for music reviews. I'm getting a little burned on the political blog scene, so I'm just going to post my hobby, which is reviewing CDs and shows and stuff like that. Maybe you'll get lucky and there will be a movie review or two on here as well. Actually, you will get lucky, because there will be movie reviews here.

Anyway, I'll start off with a journey back in time to the Trashcan Sinatras show I saw back in late September. It was hilarious. The next review will be of Keane at The Fillmore last Thursday, Dec. 2nd.

Ok that's my story. Stay tuned for the "Trashcans," as they like to call themselves. It's a scorcher.

Say What You Will About Reality TV...

but this could actually be really interesting.

"Super Size Me" director Morgan Spurlock has created a new fish-out-of-water reality TV series for FX called "30 Days." In each episode, a person will be plucked from his or her everyday life and transplanted into a very different lifestyle in order to highlight a particular social issue. In the first show, for instance, a Christian salesman who is a staunch believer in the war in Iraq travels from his West Virginia home to spend a month with a Muslim family in Dearborn, Mich.

I've Never Heard of THIS Serial Killer!

So I'm fascinated by the pathology of serial killers. Isn't that weird? But hey, it's interesting. Sociopaths are really interesting. So I just found this, and I said, huh. I've never heard of the BTK Killer. Has anyone? This is a new one to me.