Live review: Verbena – May 26, 2003

Looked like fewer than 75 showed up (I forgot to ask about the door, duh), and talking around, it seems I was the only one surprised at the low turn-out. These guys have a new CD out on Capitol. And they're slated to play on The Late Show with David Letterman in June. But I guess no one's heard of them around these parts, which makes sense since Omaha doesn't have a radio station worth a shit.

They get credit for being polished, for their fancy stage lights that look like the ones used in their promo materials. There was even a guy (I assume a roadie) who walked around during their set taking movies with a super-8 camera, as well as 35 mm pics. Could Sokol Underground make it into one of their future videos?

And it was easily the loudest show at the Sokol since, well, maybe The Warlocks a few months back. The trio has a Nirvana-revisited thing going on, moreso live than on their CD. Or as the promoter said, "Didn't anyone tell these guys it's not 1989?"

Regardless, I can hear the potential. They rock harder than hell and play very catchy, bluesy stuff with an edge. They're drummer is amazing. And other than one song where the bass player's gear quit right in the middle, they were the epitome of professionalism. Even then, the guy quickly fixed his bass set up, then the drummer casually looked over to the frontman/guitarist/vocalist Scott Bondy and said something like "Let's take it right after the second verse" or some such thing. Clicking off four with his drum sticks, they started right back in without missing a beat. Then apologized after the song.

Weird stage patter: "Where's the missiles?" No one knew what he was talking about. "You guys look concerned. Are any of you old enough to remember 'The Day After'?" Whoops from the audience, someone yelled, "Yeah, it was great" and everyone laughed. Bondy gave up the patter and went right back into their set.

The other odd amusing moment: After their last song, the singer says, as if addressing an SRO show at the Civic, "Thanks a lot for coming. We'll see you next time," and leaves the stage while feedback blares out of the speakers (did I mention it was bone-jarringly loud?). A small handful of people did stadium clapping which could barely be heard over the feedback din, and back came the band, triumphant and ready for an encore. It was kind of silly. If there are only 50 people in the crowd and you have a "scheduled" encore, don't bother with the stage departure, just play the last two numbers and leave the suspense at home.

I like these guys because I like full-on rock music. A strictly indie-music fan probably wouldn't get it or care. But if there ever is going to be a return to hard rock on the radio (indie will never, ever, make the mainstream airwaves again), why not these guys? You could do a lot worse.

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Live review: the legendary Mike Watt – May 24, 2003

What is there to say? He's a legend. And I'm certain that most of the 150 that turned out at the Underground were there to honor him as much as hear what the world's hardest working bass player had to sing and play.

I'll be honest with you, I've never been a fan of Watt's solo work. I've seen him a couple times, but never really paid attention, which is something you really can't do at a Watt show. If you're not watching, you'll miss the whole point.

This time I closely listened to his entire set and was pleasantly surprised. Watt sings pretty well, sounding sort of like a baritone W.C. Fields with marbles in his mouth. It's weird and engaging at the same time. This line-up included a solid drummer and an organist who sang on a couple of numbers and added harmonies here and there.

Watt's music seems to fall into three categories. The strange Coltrane-inspired experimental stuff, which sounds like a barrage of noise, disjointed and grating. Then there's the punk stuff, his strong suit and a real pleasure to listen to. And now with this guy on the Hammond B3 (or whatever it was), there's these long, jammy instrumentals. I got the feeling that Watt could do very well performing on the Dead / Phish / Panic circuit. I personally don't care for this style, but I'm sure stoned-out jam band aficionados would find it appealing.

There's a couple other Watt styles. He does a great slow ballad, as epitomized by last night's rendition of "Walking the Cow" -- a gloppy midnight stroll that would make Tom Waits proud. And there's also his story songs, where Watt talks about his recent illness or, as in one of his encore songs, relates choices of a young kid looking toward a future -- "Army? Frat? Army? Frat?" It was curious and endearing and wholly entertaining, eventually turning into stream-of-conscious beat poetry.

Fact is, the guy is a legend, and no matter what he plays his history will always be his biggest draw. So many people there had grown up listening to Minutemen and fIREHOSE, who started bands because of his work and his dedication to the punk rock DIY lifestyle. There he is on stage, on his 50th tour since he started at age 13.

Watt ended the evening telling the crowd how D Boon's father was from Nebraska, and how he himself was just two relations removed from being from the state. His last words before leaving the stage for the night: "Start a band. Write a poem. Paint a painting. Try Coltrane." God bless Mike Watt.

Tonight -- Nada Surf, Sondre Lerche and The Long Winters. I'm most looking forward to the Long Winters, hopefully I'll get there in time to see them.

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A long-winded live review of Vue, Bright Calm Blue and The Ranch Bowl – May 23, 2003

This goes on and on. Those with no interest in what/is the Ranch Bowl can skip to the end where I talk more directly about the Vue show. This should be one of four straight days of show reviews on Lazy-i. Tonight is Mike Watt and The Monroes, tomorrow is Nada Surf and The Long Winters (both at Sokol Underground) and Sunday is The Beauty Pill and The Mariannes at Ted & Wally's and Verbena at the Sokol. Thank God I have Monday off.

Anyway...

The 100 or so people at the Ranch Bowl last night were there to see a show. For me, it was a walk down a rock and roll memory lane.

The last time I stepped foot in "the Bowl" was at least three years ago, maybe longer. Let's put it this way, it was a long time ago. My memories of the place are mostly smoke-filled, beer-soaked visions of the '80s, back in a time when the Ranch Bowl made its dime hosting big-haired cover bands and was one of Omaha's choice meat market/pick-up joints for 20-somethings on the prowl. Stone-wash-jean clad patrons in Members Only jackets would pay their cover, stroll through the tables eyeing prey, and belly up to the bar for a $3 beer while the night's cover band played the usual rotation of radio-friendly favorites, eventually making it around to a version of The Romantics' "What I Like About You," a song I used to actually like, that is before the '80s and the bars, before having to hear it played poorly a million times by the same dozen or so Omaha-based cover bands.

The Ranch Bowl's role changed in the '90s. Owner Matt Markel discovered alternative rock, and bands like Red Hot Chili Peppers and 311 and Warren Zevon and Pavement took over. The place slowly became a respectable touring club. Slowly, however, as the '90s waned, fewer and fewer good touring bands made it through the legendary bowling alley. The Bowl started booking six-, seven-, even eight-band shows made up mostly of bad metal, hardcore, goon rap-rock or ska bands. The audience became the bratty, faddish children of West Omaha sporting fake-punk façades and clueless earnestness. The choice touring indie bands moved their wares to other confines, like Sokol Underground and The Junction, and The Ranch Bowl became a fading memory to those of us who remembered the old days.

Then along came a change of ownership, and lo and behold, here comes Vue, and in the next few weeks, The Buzzcocks. Sure, there's still a lot of awful metal/aggra-goon-rap bands booked at the Bowl, but something tells me that that could change, and maybe Vue is one of the first steps in that direction.

The first thing I noticed after my seamless entry (after years of frustration, the Bowl finally has its "guest list" system worked out) was that the club itself has become a bit run-down. The blue railing that used to run along the upper bar (the venue is a two-tier affair) was gone, replaced with industrial chain-link fence. I suppose they'd had enough of kids climbing through the railing bars, or maybe they thought the cyclone fence is fashionably industrial. It isn't. It's awful.

Orange plastic snow fence cut the upstairs tier in half, acting as a makeshift barrier between the drinking section and the under-21s -- I suppose it's a necessity for all-ages shows, but most of the kids were on the floor anyway, so the underage section turned into a makeshift gear closet, stacked with crates and instrument cases.

Like going back to your high school years after you graduated, the place seemed smaller than I remembered. Maybe because all of the high-top tables had been cleared off the main floor, only a few still stood along the back with a couple pop machines (unheard of in the old days). The walls were dingy and covered with band posters -- not necessarily a bad thing for a punk or indie club. You don't want it to look too nice. Sadly, the portraits of local cover bands -- outfits like Tight Fit and On the Fritz -- that used to hang along the hallway leading to the back bathrooms had been taken down.

Some things, however, never change. The Rolling Rock is still $3 a bottle, served by the same wonderful, sneering grandmother who served it back in the day. God bless her Gollum-like stare.

So anyway, the music.

I got there at around 10:30, just missing Anonymous American (Matt Whipkey's new combo) but in time to see Bright Calm Blue, a Lincoln 4-piece whose meandering, screechy compositions border on hardcore or metal or prog rock.

Another thing that hasn't changed about the Ranch Bowl -- you cannot hear a guitar if your life depended on it. The sound system looks to be the same as the last time I was there -- two huge stacks of speakers on either side of the stage, emitting nothing but bass. Bright Calm Blue does, in fact, have a guitarist, but you'd never know it from that performance. It was nothing but chest-rattling bass and drums, the occasional wonky keyboard, and shrill scream vocals.

I was ready to completely write these guys off after the first few songs. It seems obvious that they grew up listening to At the Drive-In and D.C.-based punk. Their playing seemed almost purposely sloppy and tuneless -- the vocals (shared by members of the rhythm section) were little more than off-pitch yodeling or knife-kill screams. The between-song banter consisted of sneering, telling the crowd that "it sounds better on the CD" and belches. How very punk.

The band, however, redeemed itself a bit with its last two songs, both of which actually seemed to sport a melody, which the vocalist actually tried to sing. It also had the best arrangement (their drummer is, in fact, quite good), and as a result, were their best songs, or should I say, only songs worth listening to.

The first half of Vue's set was seriously hampered by the ultra-bass effect. I couldn't hear guitarist Jonah Buffa at all, whether he was playing guitar or harmonica. The guy to my right screamed "All I hear is bass -- its intolerable," while the guy to my left, a Ranch Bowl regular, said it was the best sound he'd heard there in a long time, and seemed shocked that all I could hear was bass, drums and vocals.

As the set continued, however, the sound improved. As I described in the feature article, Vue's music is '60s-style good-time garage and Bay-area psychedelica that reminds me a lot of Brian Jonestown Massacre, The Warlocks or just about any band from the '60s garage era -- the Stones, the Animals, the Yardbirds, Them, your typical Nuggets bands. The guy on the right said they reminded him of The Standells, especially Rex Shelverton's vocals. He's right.

Between songs, Shelverton told the crowd that the show was actually a birthday party for The Faint's guitarist, Dapose. Vue and The Faint have toured together in the past, and in fact everyone from The Faint was there for last night's show.

The strangest moment of the night came when three football-player looking guys strolled out into the crowd and inappropriately began a make-shift mosh-pit, slamming into each other and a few annoyed members of audience. A cute little girl in red pants and glasses who couldn't have been more than 16 almost got smashed. She looked downright scared, and I thought I was gonna have to come to her rescue when out of nowhere appeared a couple bouncers and (I think) owner Mike Brannan. Moments later, the three stooges disappeared. You always hear complaints about the Ranch Bowl's bouncers being assholes. Nothing could be further from the truth. In all honesty, I've never ever had problems with bouncers anywhere, and my experience has been those who complain the most are usually part of the problem.

Anyway. It was a solid set from a band that, though they're on a major label, will never break through to commercial success because their sound just isn't radio fare. You've heard the saying 'It's a movie for movie lovers'? Well, Vue is really a band for underground music aficionados. The general public is never going to like them because, though they're actually on the leading edge of indie, they'll be discounted as a "'60s-style garage band." Too bad.

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Verbena interview, The Quiet Type, interesting chatter – May 21, 2003

Just posted, an interview with Verbena's Scott Bondy (it's right here), where he talks about living in the South and how that's touched his music. He also talks about being on Capitol Records after the band got its start on Merge. This marks the second story in a row on Lazy-i about a band that's moved from an indie to a major label (as well as the second band in a row whose name begins with "V"!). I failed to mention in the article that Frodo is a huge Verbena fan, a fact that Verbena and its label seem eager to mention in their press materials. Never mind the fact that the guy who played Frodo is the weakest link (whatever happened to that show?) in the Lord of the Rings trilogy. But I digress... Verbena is playing at Sokol Underground Sunday night, which leaves me in a quandary because Beauty Pill, Bombardment Society and The Mariannes are playing at Ted & Wally's Sunday night as well -- a particularly fertile night for shows considering Monday is a holiday. Decisions, decisions...

Tomorrow night is Vue at The Ranch Bowl, and should I attend (and I plan to), there will be a review right here Friday morning that will not only comment on the bands, but on The Ranch Bowl itself, a venue I haven't stepped foot in in three years or so.

Another notable show this weekend is Little Brazil (Landon Hedges), The Potomac Accord (from St. Louis) and The Quiet Type at The 49'r Saturday night. The show marks the last gig for The Quiet Type, who are calling it quits before they really got a chance to get off the ground. QT frontman Oliver Morgan said the band was about to step into the studio to record its first full length when bassist Mark Kosmicki and guitarist/vocalist Shawn Cox said they'd had enough. "Then all of these repressed feeling all came out of everyone at once," Morgan said. "It seemed like we were all on the same page, and I think we all just hoped we were, but there were un-addressed issues, and we were actually very far from it, all along. We are not seeing eye-to-eye, goal-wize, or musically anymore. Maybe its just time doing its thing." Morgan says he and his wife, Megan, are planning a new project in the near future.

Finally, there's some interesting chatter on the Lazy-I Webboard, including a Matador Records update and a message from Superdrag about that band's personnel changes, not to mention your comments on recent Lazy-i articles (some concerning Bright Eyes). Take a look and leave a comment.

Check back tonight or tomorrow for a few more reviews, including looks at the new Crooked Fingers and FCS North.

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Black Eyed Snakes w/Carsinogents tonight at the 49'r – May 19, 2003

Like the title says... the 49'r seems sort of a small to be hosting this show, but just about any show is too big for the 49'r, which is crowded regardless of whether they have a live band playing or not. It'll definitely be packed tonight, and the venue is probably ideal for what you're gonna see. I wrote a preview for this show for The Omaha Weekly-Reader, but they misplaced the file and it was never printed. So here is is, as background for those thinking of going to tonight's show. Check back for new reviews and another update later tonight, and look for an interview with Verbena tomorrow night.

About the only thing that blues warrior evangelists Black Eyed Snakes and slowcore tension outfit Low have in common is Alan Sparhawk. Sparhawk, well-known as the vocalist for the dark, moody, brooding indie band Low, goes by his alter-ego "Chicken Bone George" for this altogether different outing, where he's joined by Smokin' Brad Nelson and Big House Bobby Olson. Together, the trio is becoming something of a backwater legend along the dirt byways of Duluth, Minnesota, for their revival-meeting-quality live performances. Critics compare them to everyone from Gene Vincent to The Fall to Willie Dixon to Robert Duvall in "The Apostle."

They were voted "Minnesota's Best New Band" by City Pages, who said of ol' Chicken Bone and his band: "He'll fire into a Muddy Waters rocker or a Moby number, mercilessly slashing his guitar and stomping his feet from that traditional bluesman throne, the folding chair. Few in the audience will be sitting down, though: Black Eyed Snakes fans seem caught up in that old Minnesota yearning for a Southern blur of intemperance and contrition, Saturday night and Sunday morning rolled into one." The evening could end up being a veritable battle of the bands, as Omaha's own Carsinogents opens the festivities with their own brand of fire-and-brimstone that's one part horror-billy and two parts of pure, unadulterated rock and roll.

Get ready to testify.

 

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Vue interview, Reviews of Cex, Blue Shade Witness, the return of Mercy Rule and Sideshow – May 14, 2003

Just posted, an interview with former-Sub Pop current-RCA rockers Vue (read it here) on what it took to get a major label to understand what they're trying to do. Sounds like RCA tried to jack them around and they held their ground. We'll see when their full-length actually gets released later this year. Vue is playing at The Ranch Bowl May 22 with Anonymous American a.k.a. Matt Whipkey and his new band. I haven't been to the Ranch Bowl in almost three years, so this should be quite an experience.

Also added to Lazy-i, reviews of the latest releases by Cex and Blue Shade Witness -- go to the Reviews page and click, click, click.

Finally, our friends over at the Star City Scene site (the "Star City" is Lincoln for you out-of-staters) are reporting that Mercy Rule and Sideshow, two seminal bands from Omaha's Golden Age of indie punk circa the mid-'90s, are getting together for a one-time reunion show for charity. Both bands have been cited numerous times by various local bands, including all the Saddle Creek acts, as not only influential, but as what inspired them to get involved with music. Bernie, the lead singer of Sideshow (think Cursive on speed) also heads up Caulfield Records, an indie label that predates Saddle Creek by a number of years. To find out more about Mercy Rule, check out my 1998 interview with the band by clicking here. I'll pass on more info about the show's date, time and venue when I get it.

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Live Review: Bright Eyes at Sokol Auditorium -- Conor, you OK? – May 12, 2003

To be honest with you, I hadn't expected to stay for the Bright Eyes set. I had come down really just to see Head of Femur (amazing), and was thinking of leaving during Arab Strap (painfully boring, though Aidan Moffat's colorful, angry rants between songs was amusing). A pressing deadline (a feature on the band Vue, which will be online here tomorrow night) and a 7 a.m. appointment the next morning were forcing my hand. Besides, I'd seen Bright Eyes just a couple months earlier with the same backing band. Regardless, I decided to stay just to hear what Conor and company were going to open with. After the first song, I knew I had to stay and see if he was going to make it through the whole set.

There was something obviously wrong from the beginning of opener "One Foot in Front of the Other." Unlike how he played it a few month's earlier as Sokol Underground, this version was slower, and Oberst's guitar at times was barely audible, leaving just his weary voice (yes, the rest of his band was on stage, but for the opener, it was mostly Oberst). Conor looked down while he sang, but not at the crowd. Each word seemed slow and deliberate, almost detached. I turned to the person next to me and said "Something's wrong."

The whole band played on the next song (I apologize for not knowing the titles) but again, Oberst's tinny guitar (He wasn't playing that big fat Gretsch that seems to dwarf him on stage) could barely be heard. He looked mentally and physically drained. He didn't seem drunk. And despite a couple coughs between songs, his voice sounded fine.

So the set continued, the rest of the band chugging along. Between songs, Oberst thanked the crowd while he took sips from what looked like a plastic cup filled with Guinness. He said it was his brother's birthday. And that it was mother's day. And that the tour had been really good. And that he was happy to be home.

After about the fifth song, the band left the stage to Conor for a solo rendition of "Waste of Paint." Oberst and his guitar were at times barely audible. He seemed somber and sad and at one point stopped playing guitar altogether why he said the lines and rubbed his eyes with the hair that had hung in his face all night. I don't know if he was crying as he struggled, but he pulled it out and pounded out the chorus with his guitar.

Then things just got worse. I can't remember if it was before or after the next song, but Oberst announced that he couldn't continue. "Robb, can you give everyone half their money back?" he said to the crowd. Two or three members to the band huddled around him as he turned his back to the audience.

After a moment, they started in on the next song, one I had never heard before. Oberst looked confused or frightened or in pain, rubbing his eyes. He backed away from the microphone, paused, then walked up and started singing the first few lines, then backed away again and mumbled something. The band stopped playing and the crowd clapped. Oberst earnestly told the crowd to stop, that when the next song ends he doesn't want any applause, that he just wanted everyone to leave in silence.

After a few moments, the band launched into a rousing version of "The Calendar Hung Itself." Oberst's voice sounded fine, though he looked to be in some kind of agony. And as an exclamation point or a signal that the show was definitely over, he swung his guitar over his head Pete Townshend style and smashed it on stage, shattering pieces of wood into the crowd, then turned his back and walked off stage.

Of course the crowd roared as the rest of the band quietly left.

The whole thing was like watching a car wreck in slow motion. I don't know if Oberst was sick or drunk or drugged or emotionally burned out. But every song he performed was sung from the bottom of a deep, dark well, with eyes clinched closed behind those long bangs.

I left there worried about Conor Oberst. I hope he was just sick. I hope he was maybe just exhausted from having been on the road for too long. I hope the weight of the world wasn't getting too heavy, wasn't pushing him down. If I knew him better, I'd ask him if he was OK. Somebody needs to.

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New reviews -- Saddle Creek 50, Atom, Murder, etc. – May 10, 2003

Just posted, a slew of new CD reviews, including reviews of the Saddle Creek 50 compilation, Atom and his Package, We Talked About Murder (recently opened for Cursive in Austin), and Gatsbys American Dream (plus The New Pornographers, Head of Femur, Lanky and more). Check 'em out at the Reviews index.

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Bright Eyes on Letterman June 11, Arab Strap at Sokol, The New Pornographers – May 6, 2003

Robb Nansel at Saddle Creek Records confirmed the rumor -- Bright Eyes has been booked to appear on The Late Show with David Letterman June 11. Bravo to Conor Oberst for waiting out other offers to nab what is arguably the most sought-after TV gig this side of Saturday Night Live. What this means for Bright Eyes and Saddle Creek is anyone's guess, but methinks it could be the rocket ship that takes everything to the next level.

Some other questions that come to mind:
-- Will Bright Eyes get bumped a half-dozen times like The White Stripes did?
-- What song will the band perform? (I'm guessing "Bowl of Oranges.")
-- Will Letterman mention Nebraska and/or Omaha and/or Wahoo during his introduction? (Probably.)
-- How many more major labels will come knocking on Conor's door with a big fat record deal?
-- Can he (will he) hold out and stay on Saddle Creek? (I can't imagine why he'd leave.)

And why now? In addition to the obvious reasons (tons of national publicity including a couple NY Times articles, a critically acclaimed album, etc.), you have to figure that his recent NYC gigs, his alleged "move" to NYC and the recent "Winona sighting" all played in a part in it. Check out what Carlos from Interpol said about how his band snagged a Letterman appearance: "We have a really good publicist. The other reason is that it's the job of music directors at shows like Letterman to get bands that are hot at the moment, but aren't that big yet. The idea is that, in the long run, it will look like this (the appearance on the show) is a significant moment that happened when they were raw in their career and had just released an album. Music directors know that stuff." Seems to fit Bright Eyes' situation as well.

I have to admit that it'll be exciting to see, especially for those of us who have watched Oberst grow up on stage over the past eight years or so.

Speaking of seeing Bright Eyes on stage, Oberst and company will be performing again in Omaha at Sokol Auditorium May 11 with Arab Strap. In support of that show, I just posted an interview with Malcolm from Arab Strap here at Lazy-i (read it here). Opening the show will be Chi-town's Head of Femur -- another can't-miss act. Better take the opportunity to see Conor now. After this Letterman thing, his next Omaha show may be in the cozy confines of the Civic Auditorium...

Also, CD reviews are back with a vengence -- at least two or three new ones a week. Check out the write-up on the new one by The New Pornographers. Say, why doesn't someone book those guys at Sokol Underground? Come on, people, get with it!

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Sioux City on OmaCreek, Journey and Park Ave. redux, The Monroes – April 30, 2003

Our friends up north in Sioux City give their take on the recent OmaCreek explosion in an article at Siouxland.net called "Indie Music Thrives in Omaha" (read it here). Yours truly was among those interviewed, along with Saddle Creek Records' Robb Nansel and promoter extraordinaire Marc Leibowitz of One Percent Productions fame. The point of my comments was that all the national press about "the Omaha scene" has been directed squarely on the Creek bands. And while they deserve the attention, there's more to the Omaha scene than just Creek. You've heard me make this point before on the blog, so I won't tire you with it again. Omahans will recognize the author, Andy Walter, as the primary record reviewer at The Reader. Andy's off to bigger and better things in Denver, and I'm not sure what his future role at The Reader will be, if any.

Speaking of reviews, my take on the new Journey tribute CDEP just went online (read it here). More newsworthy is the fact that Urinine, who released the tribute, is reissuing Park Ave's only full-length CD, When Jamie Went to London… We Broke Up. Originally released in 1999, the first pressing sold out last June. For those of you who've never heard of them, among Park Ave.'s members were Bright Eyes' Conor Oberst and The Faint's Clark Baechle. The story behind the band and the release is here. Urinine announced the reissue in March, but no word on when it will be available. Check back at their web site.

Speaking of new releases, The Monroes just finished a new 7-inch: "Razorback" & "Ready, Set, Topeka" b/w "Breaker, Breaker" & "Six Days on the Road," released on Speed! Nebraska Records, of course. The band will host their record release party in style, opening for punk legend Mike Watt May 23 at Sokol Underground. Watt's visit to Omaha means that I'll probably have the opportunity to do yet another Watt interview, each one is a truly, uh, unique experience.

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Live Review: Cex, The Postal Service – April 27, 2003

It's been more than a few days since the last update. I've been out of town, in beautiful Canada, seeing the mountains from the back of a train, traveling between Calgary and Vancouver. No apologies, just explanations… Vancouver is an amazing city. I'll leave it at that.

I was back in the country, however, in time to make it to last night's Postal Service / Cex show at Sokol Underground, but not quite in time to see Fizzle Like a Flood, who had just finished their opening set when I arrived. Sounds like I'll get another chance to see them in a few weeks as they're playing May 12 with Matt Whipkey's new combo at The 49'r.

Next up was Cex. A disembodied voice said, "Don't look up on the stage, I'm not gonna be up there anytime soon." There he was, in the center of the floor surrounded by audience, taunting people to come closer, "Don't be pussies!" Cex, a.k.a Rjyan Kidwell, is a blond rap kid from Baltimore with a microphone and a laptop, who sounds like a cross between MC 9000 Ft. Jesus (who remembers that guy? I do.) and an angsty Trent Reznor. He spent the entire set in the crowd, trying to eek out audience participation with call-and-response lyrics, going as far as giving instructions before the song ("When I yell 'I promise!' you yell 'We promise!'") One guy I talked to likened him to a lite version (in every way possible) of Har Mar Superstar. I didn't catch that at all. Sure, his electro-pulse hip-hop ditties all-too-often were sex driven, but for the most part, there was no over-the-top escapades, just Kidwell and his microphone, bouncing in the crowd, screaming into faces, trying to get a rise out of them. His 30-minute set was pleasant but not altogether very interesting. We've heard it all before.

The Postal Service rock the Sokol Underground. Right, Jenny Lewis turns her back to the audience and faces a projected microwave oven as she coaxes feedback from her electric guitar.

Finally there was The Postal Service. The stage was adorned with a large bed sheet taped to the rafters, acting as a screen for the overhead projector mounted on the ceiling stage left. Unlike the recent Faint show, where the band's videos were so good they totally consumed your attention, the video projected during The Postal Service's set was little more than looped snippets that acted more like a screen saver or visual tonal visual backdrop -- they didn't distract, merely adding color to the sensual palette -- images of clouds, people's shoes, a microwave oven, someone drinking a pint of beer, etc. A guy was sitting just below the side of stage left with a Powerbook, keyed up the vids for each song. Nothing really synched directly with the music, so if a song ran long, the vid could just cycle back and start over.

Enough about the visuals, the music was what the 250 were there to hear. Death Cab for Cutie fans had to be pleased. Fact is, The Postal Service sounds like Death Cab with a beat box and some female backing vocals. Gibbard consumes every arrangement he touches with his simple melodies and warm, cooing voice -- one of the more distinctive voices in indie rock. As a result, it's impossible not to make the comparison to Death Cab.

It was a long set -- they played almost (if not every) song off their just released SubPop CD, Give Up. It felt more like a duo, with Gibbard and Jenny Lewis center and stage left playing in the dark (no stage lights to distract from the projector, hence no way to really see the band other than as silhouettes), and Jimmy Tamborello dimly glowing behind another Powerbook, its white Apple logo shining in the dark. Occasionally, Gibbard would step away from his microphone or set down his guitar and slap on a pair of headphones behind a kit and add some kicky drums, a microphone was set up next to it so he could sing along Don Henly style.

For a couple songs (the duet "Nothing Better" and the encore) Gibbard and Lewis did their best Neil Diamond / Barbara Streisand impersonations, trying to look lovingly into each other's eyes while Gibbard did his typical, weird monkey dance thing. As they came to the last song of their set, something went awry with Tamborello's Powerbook, who knows what. Gibbard kept apologizing about the computer losing power and saying, "That may be it, folks." Lewis added, "That's what you get when you use that high-tech computer shit." No one in the audience knew what was going on -- everything up to that point had sounded fine. After a few moments, they started playing again. Maybe he rebooted?

They came back for a one-song encore ("It's all we have prepared for you"), a cover of Phil Collins' "Against All Odds." As you might expect, scenes from the 1984 Taylor Hackford romance were shown in the background -- shots of Jeff Bridges and Rachel Ward making out on the beach and snorkeling. It started as a relatively straight-forward reading of the song, but Gibbard changed the ending, repeating "Take a look at me now" over and over into distortion -- a nice moment.

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The Postal Service, Fizzle Like a Flood, Head of Femur and others, New Merch! – April 24, 2003

Some updates. First, an interview with Ben Gibbard of Postal Service just went up (read it here), which also includes an interview with Fizzle Like a Flood. Both will be playing the same show, along with Cex, this Saturday, April 26, at Sokol Underground. This was suppose to be two separate stories, but our friends at The Reader suggested that I merge them, since they support the same show. I'll be posting a separate Fizzle story in the near future, for you Fizzle fans out there.

Also online are a few new CD reviews, including Omaha bands Killian Ryan and Citizen's Band, as well as Chicago band Head of Femur. Our official guest reviewer, Stephen Sheehan, handled the Femur review, and goes into great detail about their sound / style. These guys open for Arab Strap and Bright Eyes May 11 at Sokol Auditorium (I'll be adding an interview with Malcolm from Arab Strap to Lazy-i next week sometime). More reviews are on the way, as always. My call for contributors remains the same -- if you wanna write reviews and have similar tastes as yours truly, drop me a line. I can't pay you but you'll get lots of free CDs and the honor of having your words posted on one of the nation's most important indie rock web sites (well, maybe one of Nebraska's most important indie rock sites...).

Also, new Lazy-i merch is now available from the Lazy-i shop. In addition to the 2002 tour T-shirts that list all the bands that made it into the pages of Lazy-i last year, there's also a new Lazy-i baseball shirt, coffee mug and camisole (which should go well with the Lazy-i thong). Check 'em out. All prices are at cost.

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Live review: Cat Power April 19 at The Sokol – April 20, 2003

Chan Marshall, with her back to me (not the audience), and peeking over the top of her piano with eyes wide shut.

Chan (pronounced "Shawn") (By the way, she should just change her name to Chan Pronounced Shawn Marshall and save the typesetters and copy editors all the trouble of adding it to their stories. Someone at The Reader actually added the explanation to mine. I hadn't included it in my draft, figuring no one was dying to know how to pronounce Ms. Marshall's first name and it seemed unlikely that they'd ever get a chance to use that correct pronunciation. I was dying for someone last night to yell at the top of his/her voice "Chan, we love you!" but pronounce it like the surname of the famous Chinese detective, then being shamed by everyone with "It's Shawn, not Chan, stupid!") Marshall didn't blow up on stage last night. There was no car wreck. In fact, the cars just seemed to zip around the track at their usual languid pace. And I think I was the only one disappointed.

I showed up apparently four songs into her set. I talked to a guy back by the cash register smoking cigarettes near the soundboard who said, "Yeah, she's on her fourth song, but it sounds like she's been playing the same song for 20 minutes."

I grabbed a beer and pushed my way through the cramped, sold-out crowd, making my way to my usual spot along the wall stage right. Adoring fans were sitting on the edge of the stage, next to the old upright piano that someone had placed up there (I imaged poor Marc and Jimmy -- our faithful promoters -- struggling with the 2-ton monstrosity). I figured the women sitting with a guitar in the middle of the stage was Chan, and began snapping some pictures. But when the song ended, the crowd applauded and she and the rest of the band went off stage. In fact, Chan was about three feet from me, hidden behind the oak soundboards of the piano, where she stayed for a medley of four or five songs, played end-to-end without pause, while the doe-eyed crowd stared in silence and awe.

Most crowds at Sokol Underground are, shall we say, respectful. But this one was particularly reverent, worshipping at the temple of Chan. For the first time since maybe Bright Eyes, there were more girls than boys in the crowd, flying single or with other girls. One innocent-looking girl standing right against the stage wore a T-shirt that said "Rockandroll Motherfucker" and clearly was entranced by everything Chan did.

Speaking of Entrance, the opening band canceled, apparently last minute, and Landon Hedges a.k.a Fine Fine Automobiles, opened the show. I missed it, of course, but was told it was one of his best performances.

Anyway… after her solo piano numbers, Chan turned around on her stool and grabbed a guitar, did a couple numbers before the rest of the band joined her on stage for the best part of the set, where things became suddenly electrified and all full of fire verging on psychedelic. As always, I don't know the names of the songs and don't have a set list to share. I'm told a couple were covers, but I recognized a few from Moon Pix and the new CD. If there was a time where Chan could possibly have burst into flames in her legendary, ritualistic sort of way, it would have been when her bandmember's guitars cut out completely during one song. I could see his face, laughing and shaking his head in sort of a "who me?" sort of way. Moments later, though, the guitar was up and running again and Chan played on with her eyes pressed shut.

No theatrics, no tears, no screaming, no back-turned-to-the-audience. And no encore, by the way. As she walked off stage, she shielded her eyes with her forearm while she waved to the crowd with her index finger, sort of in Redrum fashion or as if she were spraying the audience with a magical, imaginary spray bottle. And that was the last we saw of Chan Pronounced Shawn Marshall for the evening.

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Cat Power -- concert or car wreck? Entrance – April 18, 2003

I couldn't get an interview arranged with Chan Marshall a.k.a. Cat Power. I almost got one, but it just didn't happen. Such is life when you're dealing with a performer who is billed as a woman on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Regardless, below is a preview I wrote for Saturday's Cat Power show at Sokol Underground that was also published in this week's edition of The Omaha Reader (I'm dropping the "Weekly" part of the name from now on) along with the Matt Pond PA piece I already told you about. There's also some info below about the opener, Entrance.

Leaf through all the press materials provided by Matador Records about indie singer Cat Power a.k.a. Chan Marshall, and you get the feeling that Saturday night's show will either be a moving folk-music experience or an onstage psychoanalysis session.

Marshall, on the road supporting her just-released full-length, You Are Free, is sort of known for her onstage hi-jinx, or maybe "breakdowns" would be a better way to describe them. Article after article supplied by Matador as background on the Georgia-born singer/songwriter recount incidents where Marshall has simply lost it on stage.

Most reports touch on a couple New York City gigs that took place when she was touring her breakthrough collection of quiet, introspective neu-folk songs, 1998's Moon Pix. According to SPIN (and a half-dozen other published accounts), Marshall exploded into a series of long, ear-piercing screams during a show at The Knitting Factory, only to come down from the hysteria to sing song after song without a break, ending only when the soundman literally pulled the plug. The other alleged breakdown happened at The Bowery Ballroom, when Marshall apparently performed her entire set with her back to the audience while fans walked up to console her by patting her on the back.

Moody, temperamental, down-right crazy, call it what you want, but the outside chance that Marshall could suffer a meltdown on any given evening is part of the reason why some people turn out to her shows -- to get a close glimpse of the emotional car wreck first hand.

The situation is summed up on the opening track of You Are Free, a shadowed, moody lament called "I Don't Blame You," that features only Marshall and a piano, singing:

You were swinging your guitar around
Cause they wanted to hear that sound
But you didn't want to play.
And I don't blame you

Musically, Marshall is known mostly for her sparse, minimal and somewhat dark personal confessions, but on her new album she's just as comfortable lighting it up with an electric guitar and an occasional snarl. The CD's second track, "Free," for example, pops like a lost Velvet Underground rocker highlighting Marshall's almost monochromatic vocals, while twanger "Good Woman" mixes buzzing guitars with a wailing, mournful fiddle.

It's this variety that makes You Are Free Marshall's most soulful effort to date. Whether she's rocking or weeping, you're always left with her echoing, shadow-filled voice like a lonely, lost child, watching the world walk away again and again, knowing no one will ever understand what she's singing about.

Show opener Entrance is 22-year-old Guy Blakeslee and his guitar, performing a sort of white-man's spastic Delta blues. The Baltimore native and former bassist for The Convocation Of... has been on the road playing his unique brand of "anti-folk" as an opener for Will Oldham and Cat Power, and as part of "Matt Sweeney's Monday Night Cabaret" at Chicago's Hideout, hosted by members of Billy Corgan's new group, Zwan.

On the Entrance debut, The Kingdom of Heaven Must be Taken by Storm released on Jade Tree Records, Blakeslee howls Robert Plant-style over dissonant, open-chord strumming that sounds like the acoustic numbers off Zeppelin III played by someone stoned out of his mind. Tunes include a bare-bones cover of Skip James' "I'm So Glad" that would wake the dead. Eccentric psychedelic folk.

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The Faint and the price of success – April 9, 2003

Just placed online, an interview with The Faint, or more accurately, with Jacob Thiele of The Faint. Read it here. Jacob called from Europe last week while the band was completing a tour with Placebo and shared some comments about traveling overseas during these days of war. They're already back in Omaha, and judging from Jacob's comments, have probably already started their soundcheck for the April 11 Sokol Auditorium show.

I commented only briefly about the band's difficulty getting their new, multi-media show to work on the big, fat, rather uninviting Sokol Auditorium stage. I can count myself one of the lucky few who got to see The Faint downstairs at Sokol Underground -- a much better venue for their type of show because of the more confining, club-like setting. The same goes for opener Les Savy Fav. Last time they came through town, they played down in The Underground, and it was one of the best shows of the year, mainly because the bear-like, head-band-wearing lead singer jumped off stage and into the crowd throughout the evening, literally singing face-to-face with audience members. This type of interaction won't be happening Friday.

Chock it up to the price of success. It doesn't make sense to book The Faint downstairs anymore, where the capacity is a mere 320 or so (if the fire marshal's watching) vs. the 1,000+ capacity upstairs. Oh well...

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Addendum to the Bright Eyes March 30 Omaha show review... – April 4, 2003

A quick addendum to the Bright Eyes Omaha show review, which is posted a couple blog entries below. Kind reader Swifty McSwift sent along this set list from that show, which he (or maybe she?) says was yanked from the stage after their set. Thanks, Swifty! The first song was apparently "One Foot in Front of the Other," a new song from the upcoming Saddle Creek 50 compilation CD available in stores April 8. I can't quite figure out how to read this set list, so make of it what you will. Incidentally, the review was published in its entirety in this week's edition of the Omaha Weekly-Reader (along with the Statistics story, which I posted a couple days ago).

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Statistics, Dave Dondero and Joe Knapp – April 2, 2003

An interview with Denver Dalley about his new project, Statistics, just went online. Read it here. The project is Denver's effort to make a name for himself outside the world of Saddle Creek Records. Don't get me wrong, he loves Saddle Creek. But the fact that he's signed to Jade Tree Records does give him a different kind of credibility. Now if he can only get his band together and play a gig in Omaha. Seeing as the EP isn't slated for release until June, it could be awhile until we see the live version of Statistics. Or for that matter, Desaparecidos. As Denver mentions in the article, it will be many months until that band gets together again, considering everyone's busy schedules, not the least of which is Conor Oberst's, who just left on a Bright Eyes tour and then plans to follow it up with spending some time in his second home in New York City.

More reviews on the way. Keep watching. Almost no rock shows to speak of this weekend, however, there's a last-minute show tonight at Sullivan's at 39th and Farnam featuring Joe Knapp a.k.a. Son, Ambulance, Dave Dondero, Jason Anderson and MC Matt Baum. I've never been to Sullivan's, though I'm told it's a rather small space to see performances. The show starts at 9 p.m. and is 21+.

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Live Review: Bright Eyes and the anti-war effort – March 31, 2003

Was it a night of peace and love or just another Bright Eyes concert?

The show at the Sokol Underground Sunday night was thrown together in a hurry as a benefit for Omaha anti-war pro-peace organization Action Now. Admittance was a $5 donation to the cause, and by the looks of it, they must have raised at least a couple thousand bucks, because the place was completely packed with hot, sweaty, smoky people eager to let their freak flag fly.

The night began promptly at 9 p.m. with a speech by Action Now organizer Steve Thyberg, a guy in his 40s that looked the part with his long, thinning gray hair and college professor appearance. Thyberg had his remarks written on sheets of paper that he struggled to read in the dark while the crowd looked on wide-eyed. He said Bright Eyes' frontman Conor Oberst had called his organization asking what he could do to help. More on that later. Thyberg then went on to list the usual arguments against the war in Iraq, the Bush administration, how peace is the only answer, how it's up to "all of us to raise our voices."

Thyberg seemed to be preaching to the choir... or was he? How many were there just to see Bright Eyes and how many were supporting the peace movement, an effort that seems utterly futile in a city that's 95 percent conservative, Republican, and pro-war? In many respects, it was a typical Sokol Underground crowd, and I recognized a number of regulars at other shows. But mixed in was a diverse audience of old and young, including a contingent of what most people would classify as... hippies.

Standing next to a scenester in shiny slacks, greasy swoop hair, Buddy Holly glasses and a windbreaker was a guy who could have been the second coming of Wavy Gravy, stout and in his 40s with a beard, wearing pajama pants, dew rag, peace buttons, carrying a large peace-sign flag. There were West-Omaha guys in their Husker clothes and white ball caps standing next to young dreadlocked girls doing "the hippy dance" made notorious at countless Grateful Dead and Phish concerts. I stood in the back, and moments after the show began, the guys in front of me pulled out a pipe and a small crowd formed to get the obligatory toke. One guy even asked me if I "wanted a hit from my joint, dude." I just told him I was good and took a swig from my Rolling Rock. Hippies...

Thyberg must be new to the speaking gig. He looked down most of the time, rarely looked at the audience, and tried as hard as he could to sound sincere. It was far from the fire and brimstone stuff that you see in movies and on TV. His "speech" only lasted a few minutes, then on came Bright Eyes. This show was really a warm-up for a month-long tour with Arab Strap that begins April 1 in Boulder and ends up back in Omaha May 11. This iteration of the band is a 6-piece ensemble that includes Mike Mogis on guitar and vibes, Matt Focht (Head of Femur) on drums, Alex McManus on guitars, Nick White (Tilly and the Wall) on keyboards, and Stephanie Drootin (the newest member of The Good Life) on bass. It's probably the smartest, most professional Bright Eyes line-up I've seen. Focht makes all the difference -- clearly the best drummer he's had in the band.

Oberst was lively and in good voice. His opening salvo was one that I've never heard before, a subtle antiwar song that takes a pacifist approach to confrontation, with the line "If we walk away, they'll walk away." I halfway expected Oberst to do a little proselytizing about the war. But he kept relatively quiet between songs, at one time apologizing for being bashful. It was before his second set that he explained how he got involved in Action Now. Seems someone repeatedly tore up his "No War" yard signs. Even after duct-taping them back together, he said, they would wind up torn to bits the next day. Finally the signs simply vanished. He said he felt violated, and that, apparently, was the impetus for his call to Thyberg, not only to get a couple more yard signs but also to find out what he could do to help the cause.

Thyberg spoke again between Bright Eyes' two sets, reprising the same comments he made at the beginning of the show. Then a couple more speakers took the stage, one of them a woman apparently from Brooklyn who told the crowd how popular Bright Eyes is in New York, quoting the New York Times' recent article about Omaha being a hotbed for underground music. She was followed by a young man who tried to rouse the crowd by singing over and over the chorus from the Youngbloods' "Get Together." (Come on people now, smile on your brother, etc.). The crowd did join in, but by now most were distracted from the stage. The buzz became a mild roar that continued throughout a 3-song set by Consafos, a female-fronted 5-piece, which included a violinist and a saw player as well as a couple Bright Eyes bandmembers. They sang quiet, sweet K Record-style indie pop songs that got lost in the din.

After Consafos, Bright Eyes came back on stage and sang for another half hour or more. The show was supposed to end promptly at 10:30, but Oberst and company didn't leave the stage until a quarter after 11. "This is officially the longest set we've ever played," he said. I can't tell you the names of the songs, I don't have the set list, but I did recognize "Bowl of Oranges," "Haligh, Haligh, A Lie, Haligh," an ode to an old Omaha band called "Solid Jackson," and quite a few more from the last two albums as well as a few I've never heard before. The band came back and did a two-song encore, one featuring only Oberst and his guitar.

As the crowd funneled out of the Underground, Thyberg handed out fliers and tried to get kids to sign up as volunteers. He seemed genuinely thrilled by the response, though I didn't see anyone stop and sign up. I'm sure people felt good about being there. It was a rare extended Bright Eyes performance and a chance to say you did something to stop the war. But I left feeling no different about the peace movement -- the bleak, utter futility of it all. Yeah, these people, for the most part, opposed the war in Iraq. Some might even take part in a local peace march or antiwar festival. But in the face of the millions upon millions of people around the globe protesting in the streets -- who are getting arrested or worse and are having virtually no impact on U.S. policy -- what possible impact can a handful of Omaha peaceniks have speaking out against war while nestled in the belly of the beast?

As I walked back to my car, I thought about poor Conor kneeling down over his jigsaw puzzle of a No War yard sign, stretching pieces of silver duct tape, cussing the assholes who did this while struggling to keep the hair out of his eyes.

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Live Review: The Black Keys – March 30, 2003

The Black Keys played last night at Sokol Underground. I didn't know what to expect, really. They've been getting tons of hype in the indie world as this hip, second coming of the blues a la The White Stripes. One guy had told me that the lead singer sounded like an 85-year-old black guy.

In the end, the band was as straightforward as they come, mainstream to the point of verging on commercial. Lead singer Dan Auerbach didn't sound anything like an old black bluesman; he sounded like your run-of-the-mill white blues rock singer, complete with the husky vocal swagger that's easily recognizable among all those blues rock guys out there, with maybe a bit of (ironically) Jack Bruce in his voice. Ironic because the band is just two guys, singer/guitarist Auerbach and drummer Pat Carney -- no bass. The music was more rock than blues, a la Robert Cray/Double Trouble/Cream, without a hint of twang (thank God). For some reason, I expected some sort of gritty, modern-day sons of Robert Johnson sort of thing. That's what I get for not checking out the music beforehand.

I generally despise blues rock, a genre I equate with country or jazz fusion -- formulaic, hum-drum good-time music with no substance and generally no regard for the actual genre in which it's derived (for reference, see the Blues Hammer from the movie "Ghost World"). Blues is supposed to be "black music" -- funny that there's rarely a black guy to be found at most local blues rock shows. At least these guys were fun to watch, though not terribly adventurous or dirty. Auerbach does play a mean guitar and the songs weren't as repetitious as most blues rock bands' sets. Carney made the most out of a minimal drum set -- bass, side, snare, two cymbals. Could they have used a bass guitar? Not really. Call it "indie-blues" for a lack of a better name.

Regardless, the 165 on hand seemed to like it, judging by the number of nodding heads; and the band had a good time, performing a two-song encore.

Tonight is a special Bright Eyes performance at Sokol Underground, a benefit for local pro-peace/anti-war organization Action Now. Look for a review of the show here later tonight or early tomorrow, and quite possibly in the Omaha Weekly-Reader Wednesday. I fear it could be a mob scene, though the Saddle Creek guys don't expect a sell-out because the show information has only been posted on their Web board (and also the SLAM Omaha board). The show begins at 9 and supposedly ends by 10:30. We'll see.

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For Against, the lazy New York Times– March 28, 2003

New CD review online of For Against's latest. Read it. Slowly, slowly the wheels of progress turn...

Much talk locally about a story that appeared in the New York Times March 23 by Kelefa Sanneh, where the writer describes Omaha as "the city that has perhaps the most vital underground rock scene in the country."

Kelefa Sanneh. Why is that name so familiar? Is that the same Kelefa who wrote the review of the new Cursive CD in the April 3 Rolling Stone? Seems Kelefa is a regular Saddle Creek groupie, who's written other Creek-related stories/reviews for Stone, not to mention at least four other articles for the Times where she talks about Conor Oberst in some capacity. Her intense love for all things Creek explains the Times coverage, which seemed inordinately intense, especially considering that their Sunday Magazine did a feature on Oberst just this past November (Kelefa didn't write that one).

In fact, the most recent Times story, "News from Nebraska: Local Bands Make Good," seems oddly timed, especially when you consider the bulk of national publications, including Shout NY and Time Magazine, did their "Omaha is the new Seattle" stories almost six months ago.

Regardless, all press is good press, eh? And Creek must be pleased with the attention, though the rest of the city's bands probably feel a little bit slighted. Other than Neva Dinova (who Kelefa amusingly describes as "one of the few Omaha bands that doesn't record for Saddle Creek..."), no other non-Creek bands were mentioned. She (I don't know if Kelefa is male or female, though something tells me she's a she) even goes out of her way to mention Rilo Kiley, most-definitely not an Omaha band.

Either the story was originally intended as a feature solely about Saddle Creek Records or Kelefa is just plain lazy. Sokol Auditorium was indeed abuzz the night of the Cursive CD release show that someone from the Times was on hand for the festivities. So that means the NYT reporter blew into town, probably hung out at Creek's Benson offices, then high-tailed it down to Sokol, watched the show, then flew back to New York. And that was the extent of her research on the city with "perhaps the most vital underground rock scene in the country"? The second half the story focuses on Presto! Studios and the Mogis brothers, which means there must have been a road trip to Lincoln during her trip. It ends with a brief history of Creek and their upcoming comp CD.

So do non-Creek bands have a right to be miffed that the great gray lady equates the Omaha scene solely with Saddle Creek? Yeah, they do. But it sure as hell isn't Creek's fault that the Times hires such lazy reporters. The story really doesn't help the Omaha scene -- or non-Creek bands -- all that much. It only galvanizes the notion that Omaha is Creek and only Creek. Her comments about Neva are completely erroneous. A more accurate statement would have been "Bright Eyes, Cursive and The Faint are among the few Omaha bands that record for Saddle Creek." When you break it down, there are only seven Omaha bands on Saddle Creek, leaving about 100 or so Omaha bands not recording for the label.

There's no question that Saddle Creek Records and its bands deserve all the attention they receive. Their hard work is well-documented (and nowhere moreso than at this very Web site). Their music speaks for itself. The real question is what will it take for national reporters to open their eyes to all the non-Creek Omaha bands that are making important music right here in River City. I've yet to read an article that captures the real Omaha scene. And I have a feeling that I won't until I write it myself.

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Reviews return, Lazy-i merchandise, the March WoodEe Award – March 23, 2003

First and foremost, the Reviews page has been cleaned up, with a number of old reviews moved to the Reviews Archive page and the creation of a new Live Reviews page, where blog entries that focused on live shows will eventually be stored with larger photos, etc. That out of the way, I added the first new review since January, a look at the just-released debut by Two Guys on Absolutely Kosher Records. Expect more reviews on a regular basis as I begin to plow through the hundred or so CDs that have been submitted. Those who have sent discs and are painfully waiting for comment, keep waiting. In addition, our guest reviewer, Stephen Sheehan, says he's back in the saddle again to lend a hand. Hooray!

For all those who have been eagerly begging for Lazy-i to begin offering apparel merchandise, we proudly announce the sporty, sexy Lazy-i T-shirt and thong, now available at the Lazy-I Cafeshops page. This handsome Hanes Beefy-T sports the eye-catching Lazy-i World Tour logo on the front, while all the bands profiled in the web pages of Lazy-i in 2002 are listed on the back, along with the respective date of publication. Take a look. What better way to show off your indie rock good taste? And for those with a hankering of something a bit more... exotic, check out the Lazy-I sport thong (I'm not kidding). As they say in the now-hated country of France: Ewww-la-la. All products are offered at cost, so I ain't making one thin dime on this stuff. I might be adding a few more products in the future, so check back to my cafeshops page.

And finally, though it's already past mid-March, it's not too late to name this month's winner of The WoodEe Award. The much-adored prize goes to the pricks at FakeDIY.net. The backstory: I was checking out my site's user log files and stumbled across a referrer from FakeDIY's Staff Web Board, where there was a nice topic about how such a crappy eyesore of an e-zine like Lazy-i could possibly be getting all these sweet interviews with big stars like Bright Eyes and Interpol. The topic went on to describe my wee little 'zine as pathetically ugly (the topic's title was "Are we aiming too low?" or something clever like that). Of course, I quickly registered to their web board and responded, asking why a 'zine with a staff of more than a dozen contributors (and two web editor/designers) was barely able to keep up with copying music news off other web sites and had only conducted five interviews with such prominent UK bands such as Medium 21 and Kinesis (and if you've heard of those guys, you get a free thong). I called them lazy. They deleted the post and unsubscribed me to their web board. Oh well... just to show there's no hard feelings, I figure the least I can do was give them a WoodEe. Maybe it will motivate them to DO SOMETHING instead of just complaining about the exploits of my little one-man show. Not likely.

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Live Review: The Warlocks, Little Brazil – March 22, 2003

I went to a rock concert last night.

The Warlocks

Me and about 45 others, that is. And at least a dozen or so left before it was over, maybe because it wasn't indie enough or avant gard enough for their tastes. Whatever. It didn't matter, at least to the remaining handful, lost in a fog of chocolate smoke and feedback. One guy put it this way: It'll be remembered as a you-were-there concert, like last year's Smog show witnessed by only about 75 of us.

I expected to see the shortest set in history. Here was this 7-piece band who had just made it to town, almost canceling because of the Denver blizzard, looking out from the side of the stage before their set at Little Brazil and the few dozen patrons who showed up. When Little Brazil ended (and I'll get to their set in a few moments), The Warlocks took to the stage like a crack military unit, putting together their weapons of mass destruction as if they were being timed. I figured they wanted to get on, get off and get the hell out of there.

I couldn't have been more wrong. The fog machine started about five minutes before the band -- pushing smoke off the stage and into the audience. Then on they came -- a guitarist and bassist stage left (the guitarist, a feedback maestro), a tambourine girl/keyboardist and another guitarist stage right, all surrounding their long-haired guitarist/vocalist/leader, Bobby Hecksher, standing stage dead-center in the dark, while behind them two drummers sat side-by-side working like mechanics behind their sets. All's you could really see was red fog, the silhouettes of drummers moving in unison, tambourine girl's flared hips, the psychedelic grease lights on the ceiling and the occasional strobe blazing from behind posed axemen.

What you could hear was a solid wall of guitars pounding out songs based on repeated, simple riffs that built over the course of five to 10 minutes per. Consider them a mix of Velvet Underground, My Bloody Valentine, Spiritualized, Jesus and Mary Chain, Mercury Rev and your favorite stoner rock band all rolled up in into one king-kong sized sound, playing as if they were in front of a sold-out crowd at Hammersmith Odeon instead of on a plywood stage in the basement of a South Omaha dancehall for a few dozen onlookers who became fanatics before they were through.

Little Brazil

The set lasted until 1 a.m., then the band came back on stage and played a two-song encore, with Hecksher looking genuinely touched by the crowd response. Two rocker girls added to the festivities, one yelling, "Play one more song and no one gets hurt." When the lights came up, I was a bit dazed, and stumbled around asking people if I just saw what I think I just saw. Judging by the stoned glances, everyone was a little bit freaked by the whole thing. These guys can't do this every night -- it would kill them.

I can see why Interpol has chosen The Warlocks to open on two of their tours. They're music is a perfect compliment to Interpol's almost static-hum-minimalism no wave. It wasn't for everyone. You either got into the throb or you didn't. I did. and for me, it was among the best shows I've seen so far in a year that, only three months' old, has been filled with great shows.

As for Little Brazil -- I got there late, thanks to the Maryland Terrapins. But I saw the last three songs, which were enough for me to declare Landon Hedges and Co. to be one of the best upcoming pop-punk-emo bands now going. The music was pure bash and crash, but Hedges knows his melodies, both on guitar and in his angry-little-man vocals. When is their next show?

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Live Review: Songs:Ohia, The White Stripes, Tenacious D, Liz Phair – March 21, 2003

Went to the Sokol Underground last night for Songs:Ohia knowing next to nothing about the band, only that it is a changing cast of characters centered around singer/songwriter Jason Molina, that they've been compared to Palace Brothers, and that people as diverse as Edith Frost and members of Pinetop Seven have played on Songs:Ohia records in the past.

I thought the band sounded like jammy, twangy Neil Young (and I'm a huge N.Y. fan), with Molina's vocals a cross between Young and Damien Jurado. Consider it upbeat Smog without the self-loathing. Molina has a strong touring band, including a guy who counters on electric guitar, sharing solos. The first song seemed to last 15 minutes or more, oscillating between a back-beat jam and quiet passages, soaring just over the horizon, never quite getting off the ground and not wanting to.

I think I would have dug the songs more had I been more familiar with them. Molina's lyrics are definitely dark Americana of the finest sort, and it looks like I'll have to search out a couple of his CDs to get the full effect. During some between-song chit-chat, Molina said he was recovering from flu or a cold picked up by sharing some lady's microphone in Memphis a couple weeks before. He pulled his black stocking cap over his face for the next song, singing facelessly into the microphone. He walked off stage during the last couple minutes of the last song (they played about a 45-minute set) and never came back, leaving the band to say 'goodnight.'

All in all, a low-key evening. Only about 75 people were on hand, most standing against the stage while others sat at tables around the perimeter, soaking in Molina's style of low-key Crazy Horse. It should be quite a contrast to tonight's Warlocks show, which I was told last night, almost got canceled because of the Denver blizzard, which seems to be impacting just about every touring band coming through town.

In the news: Undercover.com.au has an amusing piece about The White Stripes getting bumped from David Letterman nine times. "We always said yes and they'd always come back with a comment like 'No, U2 is now going to play that night.' We had nine different times we were rebooked." The whole story is here.

Looks like the war is causing bands to cancel tours in Europe. NME reports that Tenacious D is cutting short their European tour for "security fears." I'm trying to imagine "Middle Eastern extremists" trying to take out Jack Black. Strange, but I can't say that I blame them. That story's here.

And for all you Liz Phair fans out there, Rollingstone.com is reporting that her new CD comes out in June (story's here). It looks to be a real mish-mash, and includes five songs sculpted by pop production hit machine the Matrix, the folks behind April Lavine (you know who I'm talking about). Says Phair: "The songs that made it onto the album are the ones that rock. I wanna sell some records, goddammit." I think we're about to see a whole new definition of the phrase "sell out." It's a shame, too, because Phair's first album is among my all-time favorites. She was never able to equal it, and never will if all she's concerned about is $$$. Exile's dreaded charm was the result of the honesty of its settings. There will be those who say 'Let Liz make some money, it's a free country,' and I can't argue with that. Doesn't mean that she has to be taken seriously anymore, at least by me.

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The Warlocks, choices, getting old – March 19, 2003

What to do, what to do... two of the best shows of the year going on at the same time -- God Speed You Black Emperor at The Music Box and Death Cab for Cutie at Sokol Underground. My final answer -- I go to neither. I had too much going on at my real job to go out and feel wiped out the next morning. So... hopefully people showed up in high numbers at each show. My intention was to catch the beginning of God Speed, then drive downtown for Death Cab. Instead, I fell asleep on the couch. It's a bitch getting old, eh?

I just placed online a real nice interview with The Warlocks, an L.A.-based 7-piece who are playing Friday night at Sokol Underground with Little Brazil. I will make this show.

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Live Review: Cursive– March 16, 2003

Last night, the place to be was upstairs at Sokol Auditorium for Cursive -- the band's first headlining gig in the big room. I'm a terrible judge of crowd size, but it seemed as packed as any big show I've seen up there, including Wilco and The Faint. But it wasn't a sell-out. One guy estimated 850, but it sure seemed like more, especially when you felt the swelteringly heat coming off the main floor (seems like it's always hot at Sokol Auditorium shows).

I missed Small Brown Bike, and Sorry About Dresden cancelled due to mechanical troubles. I arrived just in time to seen the last Desaparecidos song, a real scorcher featuring Oberst jumping off Baum's drum kit. My impression: Conor needs a haircut.

Then came Cursive. If Kasher had worn a beanie and short pants on stage he would have looked like that guy from AC/DC, with his short-sleeved white shirt and neck tie. If you're a Cursive fan, you would have dug the set. Kasher was in prime voice, and everything else was good and loud. People were crammed up either side of the stage on the wing steps, while you could see a crowd hanging backstage on either side. Rumor has it that someone from The New York Times was there last night, doing a piece on "the Omaha scene." That would make four nationals in town over the last few weeks, including SPIN, Blender and Fader. According to my photographer friend, all are doing stories on "the Omaha scene," a story that was heavily covered six months ago by everyone from Time to Rolling Stone to obscure New York magazines. Here I thought the spotlight was beginning to wane on Omaha, and along comes the next wave of hype.

Anyway… the band played a variety of songs from all their CDs (again, I didn't get the set list). For me, the most noticeable element was Gretta Cohn's cello. As I mentioned in the feature story, Gretta's cello for the first time stands out on their new CD. Every other time I've seen them live, I couldn't even hear the cello amongst the fog of bass/drum/guitar. Tonight, however, it felt like a warm blanket on even the most violent numbers, completely transforming their sound, adding a bottom and depth that underscores the seriousness of the proceedings.

The most interesting stage patter came before the last song, when Kasher said, in essence, that they've been playing for years, and Omaha has never been the band's favorite city to play, but he'd like it to be.

For some reason, it doesn't surprise me that Cursive has never had the strongest following in Omaha amongst the Saddle Creek bands (The Faint holds that distinction, even over Bright Eyes). At its very core, Cursive's music is abrasive and unforgiving. It doesn't lend itself to nice melodies or yell-out choruses (though the crowd did give it up during "The Martyr"). As a result, they don't attract the fans that are looking for easy pop, dance beats or good-time rock and roll. Cursive demands an investment from their listeners, and even then, a lot of people still don't get it. But those who do are rabid, die-hard fans -- the sort of fans that Cursive has enjoyed more in other cities. I don't know if that'll ever change, and I doubt the band cares all that much.

I got in one song from the encore, then split, hearing the next song blare from Sokol's open side doors, bringing in a much-need breeze, as I made my way back three or four blocks to my jeep.

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Live Review: 1989 Chicago Cubs, Examination of the...; Quote of the Day – March 14, 2003

Last night at Sokol Underground... I missed the opening band, Back When, which I'm told was a speed metal outfit.

Next up was the 1989 Chicago Cubs, the new Omaha super-group power-trio consisting of Ryan Fox from The Good Life on guitar and lead vocals, Matt Baum from Desaparecidos on drums and Dan Brennan from Red Menace on bass. We're talking relatively straight-forward indie-rock emo stuff. Fox's vocals don't quite have the umphhh to carry it off just yet. The band was tight, but was struggling to find a solid melody, as if the vocal lines were sort of written after the arrangements were completed.

Baum has already forged a rep as one of the city's best drummers, and his calisthenics are what drove the six-song set. Interestingly, between songs, he got up from behind his drum set and drank water, walked around, and then sat back down. I don't think I've ever seen a drummer get up and walk around between songs before. He also occasionally yelled into what appeared to be a toy bullhorn.

The highlight of the evening was the Cubs' last number, called "Burn the Boats," an absolutely amazing math test that walks away from their regular indie/emo sound to something that's slower, more angular, more interesting altogether. One guy I talked to compared the number to a cross between Unrest and Unwound. I thought it sounded like a cross between Chavez and a great, slow-drone Pixies tune. The song ends with the band hitting notes in unison and yelling numbers between the crashes. The crowd of 65 loved it. At the final crash, bassist Brennan swung his axe and knocked the mic stand off the stage, maybe into an innocent bystander, judging by the guy flipping him off afterward. Very punk indeed. Are these guys "the next big thing"? Considering the activity of The Good Life and Desa (both just back from tours), it's amazing that they even have time to practice together.

By the way, The Cubs are playing at the 49'r tonight... Ask to see Baum and Fox's impressive gangsta tattoos on their guts.

Here's what I remember about the headliner, Examination of the…
-- Somebody stinks! Extremely bad body odor wafted in from the stage and overpowered even the usual smell of the cig smoke -- that's some bad B.O. Pee-yewww!
-- Quotable lyric -- "Your womb is a cranium," at least that's what I think the guy was screaming.
-- It was maybe the loudest set I've seen down there since… well, a long time. Not ear-piercing loud, bowel-rattling loud.
-- During one of the droning 20-minute bass-a-thons, I looked to my right and a guy was casually eating a donut.
-- The lead singer's voice was an exact replicate of Ogre's from "Revenge of the Nerds." I don't know how he could scream like that every night.
-- The band only played two songs. Between them, while one of the guys did the usual chit-chat schtick, someone from the audience yelled "1986 Chicago Bears."
-- The slow, droning, bass-fuzz songs would probably fit right in at a stoner rock festival (in fact, one of the guitarists was wearing a High on Fire T-shirt).

I don't know if they were frightening or just downright funny. What I do know is that they sure did stink... phewwww!

Quote of the Day: From a Reuters article about the Elizabeth Smart kidnapping/reunion:

Well, that about says it all...

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Tim Kasher and Cursive, various updates, Men of Porn – March 12, 2003

Just posted, a nice feature on Omaha band Cursive, where Tim Kasher bares all about living on the road and the toll it takes both physically and emotionally (read it here). The story also talks about the making of their new CD, The Ugly Organ and the band's new policy of taking fellow Omaha (and non-Creek) bands on tour with them. Cursive takes their show to Sokol Auditorium this Saturday. It's become somewhat of a rite of passage for Saddle Creek bands to jump that hurdle between performing down in the Sokol Underground and the big ballroom upstairs. So far, The Faint and Bright Eyes have made the leap, now Cursive after their last show downstairs way exceeded capacity. I'm one of only a handful of people who prefer seeing bands down in The Underground vs. up in the aud, simply because the tighter confines down below make for a more intimate rock experience (The Faint is the best example of this -- when they're downstairs they make the place feel like a NYC club). The downside downstairs, of course, is the unfortunate smoke problems. First thing I do when I get home from an Underground show is rip off my smoke-stank clothes and take a shower.

Other random news... there are a few new posts on the Lazy-i Webboard of note, including the latest One Percent Productions show schedule, the latest Saddle creek News update (info about the spring tours), and an update from Tim Moss about the doings of everyone's favorite stoner rockers The Men of Porn. Moss is a former Omahan who was part of arguably one of city's best punk bands, Ritual Device. After that band broke up, he moved to San Francisco and formed Porn. Moss' memo talks about his bands upcoming performance at SXSW, which I believe is this weekend. Also the fact that the Men of Porn has recruited a woman on bass -- that should make for some kinky business...

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Live Review: The Carsinogents – March 9, 2003

In the end, they didn't need the flames.

I guess you could look at this almost as an epilogue to my current feature on the Carsinogents. What would the band do after being forced by Great White to give up the key theatrical element of their live show -- the flame-blowing routine?

The Carsinogents	From the sidelines...	Electro climbs the keyboard

At the risk of sounding cliché, the band brought a different kind of fireworks to the Sokol Underground last night (yikes, I can't believe I wrote that). I've seen these guys at least a half-dozen times -- all of the past shows included the usual fire-breathing hi-jinx. Last night's non-flame show was easily their best all-out performance. And no one seemed to miss the fire.

The set started with the video projector and pre-show music (Remember the day when all bands played about five minutes of music before their set, just to get people in the mood? The preshow music was a signal to finish your conversation, get a beer and get up to the stage. I miss those days). The recorded music was of the mariachi variety -- Mexican trumpets and orchestra -- while on a large sheet draped over a pole with duct tape a video was projected of a bull fight, interspersed with a shot of the band's old flaming-skull tiki.

The flames were replaced with plenty of smoke from a fog machine. There was so much smoke, I turned the guy next to me and asked if it was part of the act… shades of Rhode Island still fresh in my mind. I glanced up sheepishly at the exit signs. In addition to the smoke, the stage was set with red floor lights and side spot lights, as well as a lighted keyboard placard with the band's logo blaring white.

Then on stage came the band. Anyone who's seen the Carsinogents knows that lead singer, Dave Electro, is a natural showman, a true tripped-out troubadour with footwork that would make Elvis blush. When Dave wasn't behind the keyboard, he was in front of the stage swinging his vintage microphone, belting a riff on guitar, doing some sort of weird shuffle that reminded me of gospel minister lost in the jubilation at a revival meeting.

The set list was a blend of old stuff, songs off the new CD and a couple I hadn't heard before. The band's sound indeed has evolved from 'horror-billy' to straight-out hard rock. I don't know what kind of a match they'll be with Cursive, whose songs are angular punk with introspective vocals. What will the emo kids think when they see Electro standing atop his organ while the rest of the band crashes along with knuckle-busting powerchords? Regardless, last night's crowd of around 300 ate it up. I noticed those who were standing in front of or near the speaker stack were pushed to center stage by night's end. It was indeed loud. I felt sorry for anyone stupid enough to not have earplugs. There's nothing tough or cool about tinnitus.

No, the flames weren't missed. As a matter of fact, the boys can now also confidently leave the film projector at home -- in the end it didn't add much to the staging. The lights and smoke and rock and roll moves are enough to entertain. But the real moment of truth came during the encore, when the band rolled out their signature finale that traditionally includes the flame-stunt. Like always, during the last part of the song, Dave seamlessly switched places with drummer Eldon Vampola. But instead of Eldon grabbing a torch and spitting Bacardi all over the place, he strapped on Dave's guitar and punched out guitar riffs while the rest of the band bashed around stage. After Eldon switched back to his drum set, Dave stretched out his arms across the duct-taped sheet, strolled up to the keyboard, climbed atop and stood there playing the song's final chords.

When he climbed down, that was it -- the end of an era for the band and a beginning of a new one. The final word about The Carsinogents: I don't know if they'll ever break out of this one-horse town. Sure, they've got four Texas dates with Cursive including a gig at Emo's in Austin. But the end of the story won't be written until we find out if they ever get a full-blown tour of their own, up either coast or for three or four weeks throughout the Midwest. And then follow-up with a return tour, because everyone knows the first time out is small and, if you've made an impression, the second time is huge. This band -- both in terms of its music and stage show -- would impress any crowd. The only thing holding them back is them.

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