19.7.10
...The Hold Steady, Phoenix Concert Theater, July 16th
When one thinks of hipster bands, the kinds written about in the AV Club and who get the highest rating possible from Pitchfork (8.2), one thinks of The Hold Steady. Craig Finn's songs are densely layered tales of outsider drama. Many of them feature recurring characters who roam Finn's hometown of Minneapolis (even though the band is now located in Brooklyn). They have a large bombastic sweep that almost compels one to re-write their own history to fit into the stories. As such, he often gets described as the new Bruce Springsteen.
The Hold Steady played the Phoenix Concert Theater, a smaller club/hall that is reminding me after every concert why it is my favorite venue in the city. The show was originally supposed to be at the cavernous Kool Haus, but the move to the smaller club fit the band well: Something about The Hold Steady demands a hot night and a sticky club.
Seeing The Hold Steady live, I couldn't held but be struck by a couple of things:
The Hold Steady are classic rockers stuck in hipster bodies. The songs are big and loud and churning, and not in the Arcade Fire/British Sea Power faux-prog rock model. They are loud. They are bellowed. They feature twin guitar leads and, yes, singalong choruses. If Smashing Pumpkins were the Alt-rock Boston, you could argue that The Hold Steady are the Indie Bon Jovi. And yes, I mean this as a compliment - There was a time when Bon Jovi wrote a hook that made you want to make a movie to go along with it, and in central New Brunswick, Canada they formed as much of the soundtrack as they would in New Brunswick, New Jersey.
People miss the point with the Bruce comparisons It's hard not to listen to Finn's songs and hear Springstein, especially Darkness on the Edge of Town era. Springsteen's heroes were mad losers who were still going to make it, while Finn's heroes are drop outs and dropping faster, but they've got a code, damnit! Also, former keyboardist Franz Nicolay's fills echo Danny Federici's work with the E Street band, and were quite missed on this tour.
But where the split starts to happen is in the songs. They sound like Springsteen, but Finn's lyrics feature a lot of words. They are crammed full of allusions and metaphors. They swirl around and play with each other. Finn himself loves those words. You can see it in the way he moves around the stage, using his body to give emphasis to his stories, even acting out parts of them. As I watched him that night, I was reminded of another chronicler of outsiders and losers whose love the language wasn't only audible but also reflected in his body language: Elvis Costello.
And that was the line that kept going through my head all night long - The Hold Steady are Elvis Costello and the E Street Band. They combine the best of both acts into something that actually can be a classic rock hipster.
Let this be my annual reminder that we can all be something bigger
Finn on stage is a hypnotic presence. I've mentioned his body language, but he never stops moving. Between lines he moves the microphone away and keeps talking to people in the crowd, or repeating lines. It's another sign that he's a fellow lover of words and what they can be, as we general do not posses the ability to actually stop talking since there's always another word that will fit right in with what we're talking about. He also doesn't look like a rock star: I would gather that he's mostly slim because they're on tour and he burns about 10 lbs a night, but he has thick glasses and his hairline is beating a steady retreat. My friend The New Trendy Area in Toronto compared him to a policy analyst. I think he's a throwback to the late 70s and 80s when rock critics would actually form their own bands.
And the sing along songs will be our scriptures
The show is a passionate one. Finn's motions are not the act of an angry man but someone who loves what he does, loves doing it for you, and just can't help it anymore. There might even be an element of 'I can't believe I get paid to do it!' in there as well. Sometimes the songs tend to run into each other live, a lot of them sounding a bit alike in tone and structure.
But at the same time, many of these are part of a larger narrative that Finn has been telling about his characters and his city (a narrative that is absent on their latest Heaven is Wherever). It's not a big Coheed & Cambria story, but a series of brief vignettes, like William Faulkner's Yoknapatawpha county. It might not be a stretch that by the time he's done, Finn might be seen as a voice of a region in the same way Faulkner is, just on a different scale.
27.6.10
... living in the G20 grey zone
I most often write when I've seen or experienced something that I want to write about. I also write when something moves me so much that I just can't keep how it makes me feel in my head anymore. I also write when I'm trying to figure something out, and when I start I don't know where it's going to end.
Most people know what happened in Toronto during the first day of the G20 summit. I'll point out right now that by living in the West End, I was nowhere near the action. Dawn was working during the day in the East End, but was able to get out of there before the conflict escalated and got home safely.
I originally had a larger, much more different piece written in my mind, about how there was enough blame to go around. How could the protest organizers not have been able to identify that those people wearing balaclavas were going to be trouble and removed them from their protest (an action that is easier said than done, but which could still be done, and was probably not done either out of a sense of "inclusion" or lazyness)? How could the police not realize that the city was on edge after watching a fence go up and the downtown depopulated, trees removed, and identity cards issued? What can you say about people whose first reaction was "Stop breaking the windows of MY Starbucks!" (emphasis mine), a statement that in its own way nicely encapsulated the reason why some people are compelled to smash up said windows in the first place?
The more I thought of it, the more it came down to the colour gray.
The events that transpired are polarizing. I don't like polarizing moments. The problem with allowing yourself to get polarized is that you lose your sense of empathy. At that moment, it's all black and white. "I hate those protesters and what they did to my city" might be a natural reaction, but it's a dangerous place to land and stay for long. It leads to moments like those that Steve Paikin reported from the streets, where peaceful protests and questioning authority are all treated with the same response as a violent protest, because you're angry at those to did things to "your" city. (Parenthetically, I shall note that I hate that rhetorical construct. It's "a city", it's made up of different people. You have ownership over your part of it, but it's not a hegemony.)
Anyone who knows me personally knows I have a complex relationship with authority. I have no stains on my record, but actions taken by those looking after the common good have taken someone very dear from me in the past as well as making me feel unwelcome in my own town. But I also know that this action does not reflect on the whole organization. BUT, again, this also means that I can empathize with people who can get very, very, very angry as they feel authority's grip tightening around them, even at times when said grip is justified for the common good.
There are two "but"s in that paragraph, and they see me run through three sides of the same argument. And if I told you the whole story, there would be about four more "but"s and probably seven other parts to the argument I would come down on.
I wish I could see the world as black and white, I really do. I wish that I could see what happened today and shake my fist at one person, or one group, shake the dust off my feet at them and cast them to outer damnation. I can't. Because while I don't agree with their action, I have an inkling of where there anger comes from, and I have my own dark places as well.
I was raised Catholic by very Catholic parents (Italian and Irish), but it wasn't a conservative religious upbringing. If there are those who see the Bible as a gateway to prosperity and riches, we came from the side that saw it as a document about divesting yourself of those Earthly things and embracing your neighbors, who we were told were everyone - I guess you could say we were an Acts-centric home. I was taught about a creator who had mercy for us.
When my brother finally succumbed to his injuries, I was told it was because he "didn't want him to suffer, so he took [my brother] to heaven".
That moment still kills and haunts me. At one moment it fills me with mercy, another it fills me with rage, then compassion, then cynicism. They're all different. And in their own way at their own time, they're all right.
People did some bad things today, things that are clearly wrong and unnatural in a society. I know that. But I also know that something drove them there. I also know it's not something as simple as "they hate capitalism/freedom/class-centric coffee". I know that they feel that what drove them to that may be as valid a grievance as any other expressed that day, and I also know that I 'm sympathetic to that grievance on a lot of levels. I know also that as much as I'd love to sit in judgment of those people I can't, because I know in my dark places that but for a few different life choices, both made by myself and those that raised me, I could have been there with them also.
My empathy, my dwelling in the grey areas, my lack of moral compass, whatever you want to call it, can be traced back to the fact that in my youth I was told, I was taught, I believed that there was only ever one person who walked who was untainted by sin, whose intentions were always pure, and who you could never question the effect of his actions of the contents of his heart because they were those of a pure love.
And even he got angry and turned over the tables of those who were using authority to take away money in the name of something his father made.
If you're looking for a conclusion, you're not gonna find it. Life's too complex. Just because you're done with book doesn't mean the book is done with you.
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10.6.10
... showered and blue blazing
A few nights before I watched the MTV Movie awards, watching people like Katy Perry singing about bikinis and LMFAO looking like clowns for a really horrible children's party (and secretly thanked my stars for being childless by choice). For two nights I saw a band that loved what they did, were good at, and took pride in it. You can call it Dad Rock, but in reality it's just great, passionate music played with great passion.
31.5.10
No photos please
Here's a guest post from the wife. Normally she writes about food at Dawnabelle.ca, and airs her random thoughts on twitter at twitter.com/dawnabelles. Today, she's all about her other love: Rock 'n' roll.
When I visit foreign lands, I do not take pictures inside churches because I feel it is taboo. When I went to see the Mona Lisa, I did not take a picture because my snapshot would not capture all of its nuances (and it is behind glass). But in the open atrium of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland, I took a picture in a no photo zone and got caught.
According to the employees at the Rock Hall, visitors are only allowed to take photos in the main lobby. On display are the Gwen and Moby stars from the Southside video, cars that were used as props on U2's Zooropa tour and giant suspended hot dog from a Phish tour.
If you visit the Rock Hall, the front of the building is a pyramid that extends from the ground and creates an open air feeling all the way up to the third floor -- but you cannot take pictures on the third floor. There are rooms containing rock memorabilia and displays in the basement and the second floor, on the third floor there is a movie theatre and the annex is usually reserved from special exhibits. I do not take pictures in these areas because they are poorly list and I treat them as I would any other museum exhibition.
Hanging from various parts of the ceiling and mounted on top of large surfaces are large tour props, but on the second and theirs floors, these items -- located in open areas -- fall under the no photo zone that also applies to the other rooms of the museum. This is what I don't understand. They are large props that have already been on public display for those who have seen them on tour. Their images have appeared on albums, in movies, and have entered the public consciousness. I doubt that anyone is taking photos as a means of stealing intellectual property. They are displayed in open spaces and exposed to sunlight, so I don't think the museum is worried about damage from my flash. Also, I can see them from the lobby.
In the main part of the museum, in the basement of the building, one of the first features that a visitor is asked to enjoy are two movies -- the second movie is entitled Kick Out the Jams -- in which I am repeatedly told about the place of rebellion in rock n' roll, about following your own rules. When I leave that theatre, one of the first exhibits I see regards the witch hunts in the early days of rock and roll.
The item that I was caught taking a picture of is the schoolmaster coming out of a built up portion of Pink Floyd's The Wall. Release in November 1979, the concept of the album focused on the theme of isolation -- as the concert progressed, a physical wall was constructed between the band and the audience. At the end of the concert, the wall would collapse, revealing the band.
The idea for the album and tour arose from an incident at Olympic Stadium in Montreal in 1977. As Pink Floyd's popularity as a band grew, so did the venues they played. Roger Waters' irritation at playing such large audiences culminated on a hot summer night in Montreal when he spat on a man in the front row of the audience who was simply trying to get closer to the band. He worried about the increased sense of alienation from his fans.
So here I am at the Rock Hall, being further alienated from those artifacts meant to bring me closer to a band and getting in trouble for rebelling against their no photo policy in the house that rock built.
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26.5.10
... keeping an EYE (Weekly) on The Blue Jays
- Puppies are cute
- Ice cream is delicious
- Bad things are wrong
- The Blue Jays are in trouble.
17.4.10
... mourning the passing of baseball in Toronto
- I'm still willing to say that the number was over-inflated. It was very very VERY empty in there, no matter how cavernous the venue.
- It does impact how much you enjoy the game. It's tough to get really involved when you feel as conspicuous as you would were you on a street corner wearing a tin hat and ranting about socialism.
- None of it surprises me
- The team was arguably playing well: They were first in the AL East and were on a bit of a streak having taken 2 of 3 from the Misbegotten Rangers and swept the Lowly Orioles. True, it's a bit of an illusion, but a win is a win is a win
- It came one day after Ricky Romero nearly threw a no-hitter, something that even people with the most passing knowledge of baseball can figure out, and was well reported
- It came at the end of actually a pretty nice day - not nice enough to have the dome open, but definitely a day when people had summer on the mind.
This week the Chicago Sun Times ran a story on the poor showing. Alex Rios and Ozzie Guillen made some great points that echo what I've been saying for a while: It's a one horse town etc.
- As a former Expos fan who still carries that wound, it's kinda hard for me to get too wrapped up in a team moving. Again, I didn't see many of you blocking the road from Montreal to Washington. (And I admit, Montreal is a one sport town also. Baseball, sadly, is not coming back there though I'm convinced it's a better baseball town than Toronto).
- Cowley is wrong that moving is the only solution.
- Yeah, it really sucks when someone writes a story about how a sport doesn't belong in your area, that the people aren't fans and don't care, and really the whole sport would be better served by picking up those teams and moving them to places where people really love the game. I'm so glad that we Canadians are completely and utterly blameless in this regard, and would never be so parochial about a game as to sit in judgement of how it's working somewhere else, nor go so far as to try to make it a political issue.