Lazy-i Blog Archive

The Blog Archive -- January 2006 to June 30, 2006 -- Go to lazyhome for most-current entries

Speed! Nebraska showcase tonight; Little Brazil/Third Men Sunday... – June 30, 2006 –

Tonight at Sokol Underground is the Speed! Nebraska showcase, featuring The Monroes, Ideal Cleaners and The Diplomats of Solid Sound. It's also the celebration of a record label turning 10 years old. No idea on the order, though I have to assume that The Monroes will be last up, but we all know what happens when we assume... I say this because there's a good chance that some of us won't be showing up until after the REO Speedwagon/fireworks spectacular at Memorial Park (I won't get there until late due to a wedding). $5, 9 p.m.

Tomorrow night it's... well... actually I don't see much going on tomorrow night. If you have any suggestions, post them on the Webboard. Otherwise, I'll see you at The Brothers.

Sunday night it's Little Brazil and The Third Men at O'Leaver's. As mentioned before, Little Brazil has a whole mess of new songs that'll be appearing on their forthcoming album, which I haven't had the privilege of hearing yet. The Third Men are one of the funnest rock bands in the city these days. Last time 'round, in addition to their own toe-tapping originals, they graced us with a rare Richard and Linda Thompson cover. What will they pull out of the bag Sunday night? $5, 9 p.m.

Column 83: J.E. George takes a drive down Happy Hollow – June 29, 2006 –

By the way, this CD won't be released until Aug. 22, even though everyone seems to already have a copy.

Column 83 -- Unlikely Underdog
An unbiased look at Happy Hollow

I have been accused -- for good or ill -- of being a "homer" for Saddle Creek Records. And for those of you who don't know the terminology, a homer is someone who always roots for the home team, not a character on The Simpsons.

I have been called everything from "the unofficial public relations arm of Saddle Creek" to a "tool" in service of the label. As part of these claims, I've been accused of turning my weary eyes away from the labels' "dark side," for ignoring its artists' ignoble personal habits. I can live with that accusation. I have little or no interest in what any musician or artist does off-stage or out of the studio with his or her body (or someone else's, for that matter). I've never been one to sniff around for gossip and gooey "insider" tidbits in hopes of "capturing the real person who lives deep down inside."

It's the other accusation that gets my fur up, the ones that goes something like "You can't trust his opinion about Saddle Creek recordings. He wouldn't dare say anything negative for fear of pissing someone off." That, my friends, puts the very essence of my critical powers in question. It's also a load of horse flop. There are artists and recordings on Saddle Creek that don't turn my crank, and I've been more than willing to share my distaste publicly, both in print and/or blogspace. As I've said before, I might have interviewed every artist on the label, I might have given them a nod or chat at shows, I might have even drank beer whilst leaning against the railing at O'Leaver's standing next to them.

But I don't "hang out" with them, dine with them, converse with their parents, attend baseball games or meet them at the mall. I've never been to one of their after parties, birthday parties or "whatever" parties. I've never bailed them out, sobered them up, or hid them from the cops.

I'm sure they're all nice, fun folks, but buddying up to them or any artist/musician would make it difficult to convey criticism about their art (and not because they couldn't handle it, because I might not be able to). Plus there's the whole credibility thing…

All of this came to mind when I sat down to write about Cursive's new CD, Happy Hollow.

Within a week or so after the review copies began floating around the network of those "in the loop," word began to leak that Happy Hollow wasn't so happy. Before long, people were coming up to me at shows, saying "Psst… heard the new one by Cursive? I'm not feeling it. It ain't like their old stuff. They're losing it." And that's some of the nicer comments. Others told me that it just plain sucked. That it marked the end of Cursive. That they turned their backs on their fans. That Tim Kasher no longer had anything to say. That the band was "mailing it in" or "going through the motions."

Didn't sound so promising. I expected the worst when I slipped the CD into my car stereo. I quickly discovered that all those people were full of poo-poo.

Along with Domestica -- the band's career-setting high-water mark -- Happy Hollow is hands down the best thing Cursive has released in their storied career. It is a pop, punk, drunk, funk achievement. An adventure in brash swagger that shines like a gold lamé suit on a street bum pushing a shopping cart full of garbage through the snow. It is (shall I say it?) a dance album. Yes, Cursive has created music that the masses can actually move to without thinking about it.

Add to that Kasher's down-to-earth lyrics. No longer reaching for strange or introspective "I'm a songwriter writing about songwriting" lyrics, Kasher is now content examining questions that are on all our minds. I won't get into the concept here other than to say it involves things like Faith and hope and confusion and uncertainty and anger and Faith. And I'm still not sure I know where he comes down on all of it. I have to listen to it more before I can figure it out.

I already "get" the music part, the swinging "Dorothy at Forty," the bombastic "Big Bang," the strutting "So-So Gigolo" the propulsive "Rise Up! Rise Up!" All worthy of your critical ears. Oh, and did I forget to mention the horns? There are horns, kids. Oh yes, lots of them.

And no, it doesn't sound like any other Cursive album. They've already done that. Why would they do it again? If you miss their angular, jangular edgeworks, go listen to Storms of Early Summer (a disc I never liked) or Domestica. They're still on your iPod.

I say all of this with mind and conscience open and untainted. So to all of you bitter, envious folks who think I'm stroking the boys, trying to get in bed with the artists, hoping to "build bridges" to gain an inside scoop -- go blow it out your blow holes. This one's for the home team, whether you like it or not.

Speed! Nebraska at 10; Live Review: Simon Joyner and the Fallen Men – June 28, 2006 –

This week's feature -- a lengthy history lesson of Speed! Nebraska Records -- went online last night. Read it here. You will discover how a band of merry men pulled their precious time and resources together to create an opportunity for Nebraska bands to be heard using a medium known as the vinyl 7-inch 45 rpm record. A quick aside: I recently discovered that not just a few, but many people don't know what a 45 is, never heard of records, and don't understand the concept of record players. Within the past day or so I've come across instances of two people in their 20s who had never heard of the term "45" or "7-inch." One of these encounters was first-hand. It's just more evidence that either 1) I'm getting old, or 2) the next generation is clueless. I guess we should never assume anything, especially details regarding music that seem obviously matter-of-fact. I still remember how baffled I felt the first time I talked to someone years younger than me who had never heard of Tom Jones. How could this be? Didn't they grow up hearing "It's Not Unusual" and "What's New Pussycat?" and "She's a Lady" on KFAB like everyone else? Laugh all you want, reader, but this painful reality will happen to you sooner than you think. I would love to see the expression on your face when you run into someone years from now who never heard of U2…

What to say about last night's Simon Joyner and the Fallen Men set at O'Leaver's (no longer the Wind-Up Birds, apparently)? Joyner and Co. came off like a band of Nashville veterans coming to after a three-day bender. More drone than I've ever heard from this ensemble, it reminded me of the Velvet Underground at their most atonal, with Joyner doing his best postnasal Lou Reed impersonation. It was downright mesmerizing in its cluttered, jambled genius. Bassman Mike Tulis kept the chaos together, god bless him, while everyone else glowed warmly within their own personal dissonance, lost somewhere between Hawkins' and McManus' improvisational experiments or Mike Friedman's layer of shimmering pedal steel. Deden's drumming continues to be defined by its minimalism because anything more would get in the way. I recognized favorite "One for the Catholic Girls" and one other oldie. And I'm sure there were a couple that will be forthcoming on the anticipated Jagjaguwar set, but I'm betting they won't sound like this. The final number was a 10-minute drone factory that featured the lyric "final solution" emoted by Joyner like a shrill proclamation. It was 45 minutes of sonic anesthesia followed by the inevitable hangover, but like I always say, you never know what you're going to get when Joyner takes the stage, and that's what makes his sets so essential.

Opener Miracles of God was a '90s punk-scream throwback to Sonic Youth and whatever SST garage band that your friend included on the end of that mixtape you used to play in your Datsun on the way to school that was at first annoying than catchy than annoying again, but, strangely, always the song you looked forward to most. They were energetic. Unfortunately their chutzpah wasn't contagious.

Tonight at O'Leaver's, Unwed Sailor and Spring Gun (Mr. 1986's Micah Schmiedskamp's band). Tomorrow on this Internet space, comments on the new Cursive CD in a column that also talks about homerism of a no-so-Simpsons variety...

Delays, delays... Live Review: Tapes 'n' Tapes; Simon Joyner, David Mead tonight... – June 27, 2006 –

Sorry for the delay in updating the blog but I've been busy working on a massive feature story on Speed! Nebraska Records, that I'm told will be the cover story for this week's issue of The Reader. You'll, of course, be able to read it online here tomorrow morning. It was originally slated to be a mere show preview for their label showcase Friday at Sokol Underground, then out of the blue, the fine folks at The Reader said..."Uh, we were thinking cover." And that changed everything.

BTW, thanks to everyone who commented on the Fun City column. No word on what the World-Herald thought of it. Who am I kidding? I don't think the World-Herald knows The Reader (and lazy-i, for that matter) exists. And if they did, they certainly wouldn't acknowledge it. Way too low-brow for them. The words "riff-raff" come to mind (and just what are you doing reading this?). Ah well, it's not so bad being a media bottom-feeder.

So Tapes 'n' Tapes.... Yeah... uh... Look, no question that they're popular. They outdrew Fiery Furnaces by at least a couple dozen people last Friday night. But for the life of me, I didn't get what they were going for. They sounded like a watered down version of Wolf Parade to me. Uninteresting. I wasn't alone in that opinion, judging from the comments I heard (One guy said, "This is what you get when you go see a band that's been talked up on some bloggers' website."). The promoters, on the other hand, loved them, as did the majority of people there. I guess you need to hear their album first, which I haven't.

Which brings us to tonight's festivities and the choices that you'll have to make. Kyle Harvey, whose taste is impeccable and beyond reproach, says you'd be crazy to miss singer/songwriter David Mead at Mick's (at a show that Kyle is opening... think he's impartial?). I've never heard this guy before so I have no opinion other than to say if Kyle says he's good, he's good. But...

Down the street and 'cross town, O'Leaver's is hosting a show that I simply can't miss: Simon Joyner and the Wind-up Birds featuring Chris Deden, Mike Friedman, Dave Hawkins, Alex McManus and Mike Tulis. I have to assume Joyner will be playing songs from his forthcoming full-length that I've been told is a career-changing album for him. Also on the bill is Coolzey and Miracles of God.

Both shows are $5. Mick's starts at 9. O'Leaver's, 9:30.

Live Review: The Fiery Furnaces; Tapes and Tapes tonight... – June 23, 2006 –

I was expecting The Fiery Furnaces' live set to be different from their albums -- no keyboards on this tour, remember? -- but I wasn't expecting the metal-rock-Rush-prog-Talking Head-Zappa-Sabbath explosion that I and about 200 of my closest friends got last night at the Sokol. "Bombastic" doesn't quite cut it. "Mercurial guitar histrionics"? Not exactly. "Anxiety-inducing tension"? Close, but no cigar. I admit to not being a follower of said band, so I can't really tell you how differently they sounded from their previous incarnations. I have only one of their CDs -- their newest one, which Sister Eleanor said they'd be dipping from extensively. From that disc, I only recognized one song -- the surrealistic "I'm in No Mood" and only because there's no mistaking the Russian pastiche melody-line, which when played on guitar instead of keys, was downright Queen-esque. Forget all the pretty stuff on the record, Eleanor has a perfect rock voice that rests somewhere between Chrissie Hynde and Johnny Rotten. Meanwhile, I am now convinced that Brother Matthew is some type of mad genius wunderkind. It's one thing to write this Dali-esque music, it's another thing entirely to play guitar with the virtuosity that he commands. Who needs a synthesizer when you can make your ax create similar (or better) sounds? The bottom line: I like them better as a full-out metal band with punk overtones and a prog jones that comes from listening to too much '70s arena rock (Did I mention Rush?). Yes, their records are interesting, almost quaint. Their live show belongs on a touring festival sandwiched between roaring sets by Cardiacs and The Who.

Yes, oh yes, I caught Kite Pilot, and they were their usual fine selves. I've seen them at least a half-dozen times and am aware that Sokol Underground has a way of bringing out the best in them (They should have recorded last night's live set, in fact, why don't more bands do that? Image the marketing potential of a record called Live at Sokol Underground...). I have no idea what they're going to do without Austin Britton playing guitar or, like last night, washboard. They'll find a way, just as I'm sure Austin has found his way, which is why he's headed to Cali under the command of a higher calling.

So let's take a moment to do a quick summary of very recent escapees: Nick White, Denver Dalley, Nik Fackler and now Austin Britton. Fun City is becoming less and less fun every day.

* * *

A crazy indie smorgasbord of a weekend began last night and continues on and on and on. Tonight it's maybe the hottest band in the world (at least for the right-now) Tapes 'n' Tapes at Sokol Underground with Figurines and Cold War Kids. Tapes 'n' Tapes are so crazy hot that I've never heard a single song by them and you probably haven't, either, yet they're still almost instantly recognized as the "It" band of the moment. If last night's turnout was disappointing (and it was) tonight's will be on the other end of the spectrum. I'm just saying. Every time I predict a sellout I'm wrong, so I'm not predicting one tonight. $10, 9 p.m.

Saturday night, the homecoming of Little Brazil at Sokol Underground, a make-up show for the gig they missed earlier this year with The Cops, a gig that I'm told they still feel guilty about missing. Methinks they'll channel that guilt into some kind of weird mega-performance where they'll attempt to change our personal definition of the word ROCK. Helping them out will be Prospect Avenue and Statistics (no idea who's backing Denver for tonight's gig). 9 p.m. $7.

Everything shifts to O'Leaver's Sunday night for Eagle*Seagull, Connor and Andrew Morgan. If you've never caught E*S before, there will be no better time. Strangely, I've watched them perform at O'Leaver's, Sokol and an art gallery and their O'Leaver's show was hands down the best, even though they barely have room to move on the bar's "stage." $5, 9:30 p.m.

Watch for updates/reviews all weekend...

Column 82: Conor in the park, and welcome to Fun City; The Fiery Furnaces tonight... – June 22, 2006 –

The final word on the Bright Eyes show now that we're all toweled off; and, of course, some thoughts on the Omaha World-Herald's new designation for Omaha...

Column 82 -- Living in Fun City
It's all about furniture and cheesecake.

So I was in the park Saturday night to watch Bright Eyes. Were you?

A lot of you were, maybe 10,000, maybe 8,000, maybe 5,000. Depends who you ask. No one really knows for sure. There were a lot of people there. And all of them were wet. Just like me.

A few brief observation about the "event." As expected, it wasn't nearly the size of gathering that 311 was two years ago. Why would it be? Bright Eyes is under the radar, folks. Conor Oberst writes intelligent music that demands an investment from its listeners. It's not head-bobbing groove candy that asks nothing from the brain pan other than the ability to recognize primordial rhythms. Nothing wrong with dance music. It is, as we all know, the mode o' day of the status quo. Bright Eyes, on the other hand, whose music is at times beautiful and always lyrically interesting, ain't exactly the bread-and-butter of Clear Channel-infected commercial radio, keeping it safely under the radar. Which makes Saturday's opening acts Neva Dinova and Gruff Rhys downright underground.

So while you could argue that most of the people in the park on Saturday afternoon were there only to enjoy a free "event" with their families, and that the entertainment could just as well have been three guys and bagpipe, you'd be wrong. The rain proved it. No casual park-goers would have stood their ground from the nexus of that monsoon. It wasn't just raining. It was gushing. Forget about cats and dogs, this was biblical. And throughout the maelstrom, thousands refused to leave, both young and old (though mostly young). Talk about your acid test in the park. Conor Oberst found out who his true fan base was in his hometown. They were standing right in front of him, shivering wet, wanting to hear more.

Which brings us to the Omaha World-Herald and its bizarre declaration of the city's victory over the boredom. Glancing at the cover of the Sunday paper, there on top of the page was a "news story" headlined "Young Omahans hail new Fun City." Yes, folks, in case you were wondering, we now live in Fun City. Evidence of this is the Qwest Center and its endless stream of vintage-rock concerts whose tickets cost more than a typical "young Omahan" brings home in a week at his minimum-wage job. "Fun" also means lots of shopping opportunities, too. As the story boasted, by god, Omaha now has high-end retailers like Williams-Sonoma and Pottery Barn. And, as everyone knows, once you get a Cheesecake Factory, you've made it. Finally, there was that Bright Eyes concert and the "thousands of mostly young people who packed the grassy bowl of Memorial Park" who "seemed to be finding life here pretty good." (Incidentally, I guess Fun City doesn't have many black citizens. I only saw three in the crowd, and one was performing on stage. Maybe all the black people were busy picking out cookware at Williams-Sonoma).

Who knows why the Omaha World-Herald choose to place this editorial masquerading as a news story on its front page, essentially declaring "Mission Accomplished" like Bush on the deck of a battleship. Nothing much has changed in Omaha over the past decade, unless you view urban sprawl as an accomplishment. Conor Oberst sure doesn't. With his now sadly-defunct punk band, Desaparecidos, he wrote an entire album railing against it and the consumer-driven paradise defined by the Omaha World-Herald and the Chamber of Commerce. A year later, he moved to New York City. Oberst and most of the people who withstood God's wrath Saturday consider that kind of "fun" to represent everything that's wrong with America.

Because when you take away the shopping opportunities and the overpriced concerts at the Qwest Center there ain't much "fun" stuff left to do, especially if you're a youth in this faceless city. Sure, there's the One Percent indie rock shows that draw maybe a thousand kids every weekend to the city's one all-ages venue. There's the College World Series (that strangely, the article forgot to mention). But what else? Why would any youth want to live and die in Omaha? The answer overwhelmingly is the same as it was before the consultants declared war on boredom: Omaha is "a great place to raise a family." Fine, but what's that got to do with Fun City?

It reminds me of a chat I had with a friend of mine in his 20s who recently moved into one of those high-style condos downtown. I asked him what he thought of his "hip" new place, and he looked at me disappointedly and said, "It's designed by someone in their 40s who thinks they know how someone in their 20s wants to live."

Which perfectly sums up what's wrong with Fun City. The city fathers have forgotten who or what "youth" really is. It sure ain't some guy in his 40s pulling down $80k a year. It's that guy's son and daughter, who this weekend will be driving around Dodge Street looking for something to do. And not finding it. Unless, of course the World-Herald is right and today's youth thinks "fun" means aimlessly spending money on furniture and cheesecake. If so, God help us all.

Tonight, The Fiery Furnaces with Kite Pilot down at Sokol Underground for what is sure to be a sell-out, right?. Among the promotion for this show is the Omaha World Herald "Fun City" article referenced above in which Filmstreams organizer Rachel Jacobson was quoted as saying, "There's 30,000 people who go to U2, but there's also 1,000 people excited about seeing the Fiery Furnaces at Sokol Underground." Hmm... maybe One Percent should have moved this show upstairs...

The Fiery Furnaces' sibling rivalry; VCR, Life After Laserdisque tonight... – June 21, 2006 –

This week's feature interview with The Fiery Furnaces is now online (read it here). Female furnace Eleanor Friedberger talks about how the band creates its quirky music, the advantages of a sibling relationship, Sebadoh and softball. Among the stuff that didn't make it into the story is an explanation why their new CD, Bitter Tea, was released on Fat Possum instead of Rough Trade. "It's complicated," Eleanor said. "Rough Trade in the U.S. is released on Sanctuary Records, and they stopped putting out records in US We needed a release date and they couldn't give it to us, so we licensed the recording to Fat Possum in the US and it came out on Rough Trade in Europe." What's in store for their Omaha set? "We're going to play a lot of songs from Bitter Tea. In the past we did it medley style -- 50 minutes without stopping. Now we're back to a more traditional style and will play whole songs." And what's up next for the band? "We're going to record another record in the winter, this time with live humans. We're going to have to recruit some people. But for now, we're going to be on tour most of the rest of the summer." I mention in the story that they're the darlings of the NPR set, and as a matter of fact they just did a new interview on Fresh Air with Terry Gross that aired Tuesday. You can listen to it here. It should be great show, especially when you add the fact that it'll be opening act Kite Pilot's last show with guitarist/vocalist Austin Britton.

And speaking of bands with personnel changes, tonight at O'Leaver's it's SideOneDummy Records band VCR with Omaha's own Life After Laserdisque featuring their new line-up sans lead singer. Who'll be handling the vocals now? Show up at 9:30 with five bucks and find out.

Briefly... O'Leaver's show tonight... – June 20, 2006 –

Not much to report today, other than a couple Bonnaroo reviews that fell into my inbox here and here. There's a show at O'Leaver's tonight featuring a couple glamrock bands I've never heard of. Find out more here. Look for my interview with The Fiery Furnaces online tomorrow, and the last word on Conorfest in the Thursday column.

Live Review: Bright Eyes' soaker in Memorial Park... – June 18, 2006 –

We made it all the way to "Lover I Don't Have to Love." Then we'd had enough. We hadn't counted on the rain. Judging by the condition of everyone else in the crowd, they hadn't either. But there's a funny thing about rain. Once you're wet, you're wet. Then you're just cold.

It started to rain before Bright Eyes started. Someone made an announcement from stage, a warning that there's a good chance that there would be lightning, and rain. But that the show would go on. Once the rain became steady, we made our way down toward the stage and hid beneath a tree along with a half-dozen other people, including some poor guy with a broken leg who had been stretched out in a lounger, a piece of plastic covering his cast.

Neva Dinova on stage

The perspective was better from down there. Up on stage in his black longsleeve hoodie thing was Conor saying something like "I'm going to play as long as you want me to or as long as they let me." And with that, he lit into a new song, or a song I didn't recognize. Within a few minutes, the rain began to subside and slowly, stop. But I knew better. I could see the storm clouds circling. I knew this was the calm before the storm.

I brought a moleskin with me and wrote down some observations after we arrived at around 6 p.m. right before Neva Dinova started their set. There was, what, maybe 3,000 people there? It just didn't look like very many. About the size of crowd that you'd see at Shakespeare on the Green on a Saturday night. The weather had been cooperating, it was nice and humid.

From where we were, toward the back of the bowl, no one was really paying attention to Jake and his band of merry men. I had no idea who all those people were -- since when is Neva Dinova an 8-piece with a violin? I did recognize, however, Roger Lewis, set up on stage right wearing a red-and-white striped hat. Neva's hippy blues seemed to fit in with the Midwestern love-in vibe… sort of. This wasn't a real hippie crowd. Hippies don't wear Puma gear or Abercrombie shirts.

Next to us was a covey of O! kids -- volunteers wearing red O! shirts that had been charged with handing out cheesy O! beach balls, supposedly for a photo shoot. "We're asking people to not blow them up and throw them around until Bright Eyes gets on stage." There was talk of some sort of choreographed moment when everyone was supposed to throw their beachball into the air, a moment that would never happen.

"I'm surprised that they allow people to put chairs so close to the stage," said O! guy. "All those emo kids are going to stampede when Bright Eyes gets up there." I nodded.

Bellows, from stage: "Do they have funnel cakes here?" He repeated the question and then someone yelled "No!" A joke... but everyone thought he was serious. Jake is funnier when he's drunk on stage. Neva finished their set with a cover of "Here Comes the Sun," ironic, considering that the storm clouds were just beginning to loom in the north.

There was about a half-hour break before Gruff Rhys came on. Some random observations:

-- Standing about 10 yards in front of us was a kid wearing a homemade T-shirt that said "Conor Oberst is my hero." Ironic? Maybe not.

-- Overhead, a helicopter flew over the crowd in circles -- chomp-chomp-chomp.

-- Hacky Sack and the geeks that play it are the most annoying people in the world. No matter where they set up their "hacky" circle, they are always in the way, and inevitably, run into someone.

-- We searched for the most "emo" kid in the crowd, and found him only a few feet in front of us -- a boy in his late teens, sitting alone wearing a brown polo shirt and blue ball cap. Emo kids aren't fashionable, they're lonely.

-- Lots of goth kids. More Goth kids than black people. We counted only two black people in the crowd, while there seemed to be an endless parade of Goth kids with their multi-zippered oversized pants, black hair, striped shirts and socks, and Lydia-from-Beetlejuice makeup. One guy looked like a Goth mime.

-- In spite of all the hype about the cops, we never noticed them after we got inside the park (the perimeter outside the park, however, looked like a pre-riot staging area). We weren't searched when we passed a couple cops on the way in, and easily could have snuck in a bottle of wine, though I assume there were "spotters" hidden somewhere (maybe in the trees?) who would have swooped down the instant we raised a bottle.

Gruff Rhys on stage. Getting more crowded...

Next up came Gruff Rhys, barely visible seated on stage with an acoustic guitar, a beat-box/Casio device next to him. He does have a great voice, kind of like the guy from Seals and Crofts. Again, from our vantage point, no one was listening, maybe because the music was being sung in Welsh and was somewhat boring, helped along occasionally by the Casio and Rhys sense of humor.

Meanwhile, all through his set, people kept arriving. By 7:30 the crowd looked to be around 5,000, but there was still plenty of room to find a spot, lay down a blanket and relax.

Let's get this out of the way. It makes no sense to compare this concert with the 311 concert from two years ago. Bright Eyes will never be as popular as 311. He'll never sell as many records, he'll never draw the kind of crowds 311 draws. 311 is a commercial pop band, heard regularly on Clear Channel radio stations, and will do whatever it takes to move units. Bright Eyes is not heard on the radio and will not compromise his art for sales or popularity. He shuns commerciality, even though there were gigantic US Cellular banners hung on either side of that stage.

What was the attendance right before Bright Eyes went on? Probably 10,000. Before the rain, from on top of the hill, there looked like fewer than 10k, and closer to 5k. Nothing like the 311 show two years ago, when you couldn't get near the bowl if you got there after it started -- in fact most of the south hillside had been filled as well (The estimate for that show had been 30,000 and that seems somewhat light).

So about 5 minutes after the rain announcement came from stage, it began to spit. Nothing horrible, sprinkles. Then slow, steady rain. That's when we folded up the lawn chairs and got up to leave. Huddled under the tree while listening to the first couple Bright Eyes songs, we thought maybe the rain would stop, after all, the sun had come out and was blazing on the crowd right where we had been sitting.

Oberst never sounded better, with a strong, professional band backing him. The crowd, now standing, was into it. Introducing one song, Oberst made a pitch for starting a mass transit system in Omaha, just like they have in NYC, "where he lives now," he said. Driving around in your car listening to music is fun, he said, but sometimes it's good to get out of your bubble and talk to someone you don't know. And it's good for mother earth, who's about to cry all over you.

Crowd from trees stage right. Miserable.