Fun met slapeloosheid Blog

Een gesprek met paling 'Mark Oliver Everett (E)

Mike Ragogna: Wat heb je te zijn opgebouwd sinds Hombre Lobo?

Mark Oliver Everett: Het grappige is, voordat we voor het laatst sprak Hombre Lobo uit kwam, en dat was pas afgelopen april of mei. Dat is vreemd voor mij, omdat het lijkt alsof het geweest moet zijn vijf jaar geleden.

MR: Ja, het lijkt een lange tijd.

MOE: Ik ben al zo druk. Het leuke van mijn leven is dat ik mezelf onder te dompelen elk jaar of zo in een nieuwe muzikale wereld, en deze keer, ik versnelde hoeveel keer was ik dat doen in een veel kortere periode. Dus, vorig jaar voelt een aantal jaren voor mij.

MR: Het moet omdat je had drie albums in wat, iets meer dan een jaar?

MOE: Ja, dat klopt.

MR: End Times, werd afgelopen januari werd uitgebracht, toch?

MOE: Dat klopt, een winterse record.

MR: En nu bent u aftopping van je run van Hombre Lobo-en eindtijden met deze derde plaat dat we het vandaag over hebben, morgenochtend.

MOE: Recht.

MR: Nou, in sommige opzichten, Tomorrow Morning lijkt een finale voor het trio. Aan de andere kant, lijkt het alsof je de opening een ander hoofdstuk.

MOE: Nou, ja. Ik denk dat is het punt. Het was voor mij belangrijk om volg een titel genaamd End Times met de titel Tomorrow Morning, omdat het verandert de betekenis van de titel End Times. Hoe kan het ook het einde als er een ochtend komt morgen?

MR: (lacht) Heel slim. En het is interessant gesequenced.

MOE: Eigenlijk, het begin is aan het eind van het verhaal, en het einde is in het midden.

MR: Ik ben al een fan sinds E, en u had me bij "Nowheresville" en man genaamd A (E).

MOE: U bent met uw leeftijd.

MR: Iemand moet. Weet je, ik heb na uw loopbaan sinds uw "E" dagen en toen werd u de palingen die geliefhebberd met nog meer experimentele pop melodieën en teksten. Met dit album, heeft u een algemene missie met morgenochtend?

MOE: Nou, ik wilde leven een warme, feestelijke album dat werd het leven te vieren en alle goede dingen in. Je weet wel, als je ouder wordt, begin je rond te kijken, en je begint te merken dat er dingen zijn die je moet waarderen.

MR: Ja, met inbegrip van de liefde. Er zijn een paar van de grote "liefde" nummers op uw uiterlijk. "Ik vind de manier waarop dit gaat" is een heel eenvoudig liedje met u op electrische gitaar ...

MOE: ... het is gewoon gitaar en bas en niets anders.

MR: Ja, en het is een echte vreugde voor mij. "Mysterie van het leven" is waarschijnlijk mijn favoriet, je "La La" refrein, maar alle steken in het oog van de popmuziek.

MOE: Oh, cool.

MR: Er zijn een paar nummers op deze plaat, dat lijkt nogal gecompliceerd topicaal zoals "Ik ben een kolibrie." Geweldig teksten en sentiment.

MOE: Dat is erg leuk om te horen, want ik was niet zeker wat iemand was gaan maken van die ene. Ik voelde me alsof het was behoorlijk nogal raar album, en tot dusver lijkt het wel alsof mensen ervan vinden, wat handig is omdat ik niet wist wat te verwachten.

MR: Vanuit uw perspectief, dat nummer was de meest ingewikkelde vanuit elk perspectief?

MOE: Nou, een heleboel van hen zijn bedrieglijk ingewikkeld, maar je zou niet denken. De ene riep "Kijk Omhoog" is mijn favoriete waarschijnlijk omdat ik had het leukste dat ik ooit heb gehad in de studio om te maken. Maar veel van deze nummers zijn zeer ingewikkeld, omdat ze ook multi-layered. Letterlijk, is er slechts laag na laag, optellen en aftrekken als de liedjes gaan. In het geval van "Kijk Omhoog", dat geldt voor alle verschillende percussie-up dat houdt op te stapelen, dus het blijft gewoon gebouw. Het is een andere manier om een lied, eerder dan de traditionele couplet, refrein, brug, outro doen. In plaats daarvan kunt u ook nummers op te bouwen door gelaagdheid verschillende percussie-elementen in en uit.

MR: Kijkend naar Hombre Lobo, End Times, en morgenochtend, zou dit een is het meest persoonlijke?

MOE: Nou, Eindtijd was pretty darn persoonlijk.

MR: True. Wat is uw tocht gaat worden als?

MOE: Ja, we zijn over de show te starten een vijftig-wereldtournee.

MR: Waar ga je heen?

MOE: Japan, Australië, Europa en Amerika.

MR: Waar in Amerika?

MOE: Ze zijn op de website. Ik ben op een moeten kennen, en ik ken alleen binnen de komende vierentwintig uur.

MR: (lacht) Misschien heb ik u deze vraag gesteld toen ik sprak laatst met u, maar wat advies hebt u voor nieuwe acts?

MOE: Nou, ik denk dat het beste advies dat ik kan optreden geven een jong is om te proberen niet te zijn indicatief over alles wat je doet. Zelfs als u niet zeker bent over jezelf of wat je doet, doe het als je weet wat je aan het doen bent. Dat daar is het halve werk. Doe wat je doet met gezag, en u zult versteld staan hoeveel het werkt gewoon door met die houding.

MR: Nice. Niemand anders heeft ooit beantwoordt de vraag op die manier.

MOE: Het is eigenlijk de handen op, zeer nuttig advies.

MR: Ja, het gaat verder dan alleen het zelfvertrouwen, is het enkel over het geloof in jezelf en wat je doet.

MOE: Precies. Zelfs als je niet gelooft wat je doet, liegt tegen jezelf dat je gelooft wat je doet als een begin, en uiteindelijk, zou je kunnen beginnen te geloven wat je doet.

MR: (lacht) Van je dagen van te maken "E" door de albums nu, wat zijn sommige van de belangrijkste wijzigingen die u denkt dat u hebt meegemaakt?

MOE: Artistiek?

MR: Artistiek, en misschien persoonlijk.

MOE: Zo veel. Ik heb al zo veel ervaring, en ik heb al zoveel meegemaakt sindsdien. Ik wou dat iemand mij zou kunnen hebben verteld hoe de zaken dan weer terug zou zijn dat ik twintig jaar later, want de dingen zijn echt mooi voor mij nu, en ik nooit had gedacht dat dingen zouden kunnen hebben bleek dit aardig. Dus, goed om te weten, en ik hoop dat kan dienen als een klein beetje hoop. Als een lul als ik gelukkig kan krijgen, kan iedereen.

Tracks:
1. In dankbaarheid voor deze prachtige dag
2. Ik ben een Hummingbird
3. De Morgen
4. Baby Loves Me
5. Spectaculaire Girl
6. Wat ik te bieden hebben
7. Dit is waar het goede wordt
8. Na de aardbeving
9. Oh So Lovely
10. The Man
11. Kijk Omhoog
12. Dat is niet haar Way
13. Ik vind de manier waarop dit gaat
14. Mysterie van het leven

(Getranscribeerd door Ryan Gaffney)

Een gesprek met Paul Ellis

Mike Ragogna: Met meer artiesten en meer verantwoordelijkheid nemen voor de marketing en distributie van hun projecten, is fan geworden financiering een meer voor de hand liggende route. Voor de dag na veranderde alles, je bracht meer dan $ 100.000, nietwaar?

Ellis Paul: Ja.

MR: Hoe heb je dat gedaan?

EP: Nou, we zetten een monistisch stelsel op de website waar mensen kunnen gaan halen goederen en diensten die ze kochten in. De bovenkant is voor $ 10.000 en in ruil krijg je een gitaar en een huis concert, en ik schrijf een lied voor jou met de hand geschreven teksten op welke song je maar wilt. Op het onderste uiteinde, zou een waarde van $ 15 dollar krijg je een schaal een pre-order cd die is gesigneerd en genummerd en op zo.

MR: Heeft niet uw eerste album kwam uit op Newbury Comics?

EP: Ja. Newbury Comics aangesloten met mijn manager en ik en we begonnen met een label genaamd Black Wolf. We hebben de eerste twee platen uit met hen, en dat ging goed. Het gaf me vertrouwen om echt te doen.

MR: was de eerste die ook worden gefinancierd fan?

EP: Nope, ik heb het zelf gefinancierd. De beheermaatschappij in feite zet het zelf uit. Ik heb een goed team nu samen voor dit soort project.

MR: Dus je hebt gehad liedjes in films, zoals Jim Carrey's Me, Myself & Irene als muziek in de slotscène van Ed.

EP: Meer en meer van dat soort dingen gebeurt, en ik ben beginnen te krijgen van de gesprekken over Nashville voor mijn materiaal. Ik had twee sneden op een Sugarland record, en andere commerciële dingen komen op mijn manier die is goed. Maar ik probeer te liedjes die ik ben trots op schriftelijke schrijven, ik wil niet strikt te schrijven voor commerciële middelen. Ik ben gewoon proberen om goede songs te schrijven.

MR: U noemde Nashville die perfect geschikt is sinds uw materiaal is zo waardig te dekken. "Annalee" klinkt zoals het moet wel iemand's hit zo niet je eigen.

EP: Dat zou geweldig zijn, dat vind ik een song veel. Nou, dat deel uitmaakt van het schrijven. Schrijven is voor de toegankelijkheid maakt het universele ja, veel mensen kunnen die nummers op deze plaat, in tegenstelling tot mijn andere stukken die zijn meer gebaseerd op mijn persoonlijke ervaringen en persoonlijke kijk op de dingen die. Mijn persoonlijke stem is misschien een beetje sterker op andere platen dan de universele stem die is op dit ene.

MR: Dit album doet me veel verhalen.

EP: Weet je, het heeft meer van dat verhaal soort van thema in een heleboel manieren. Het is als een zus op te nemen.

MR: Er is een intimiteit te zorgen dat cirkels terug naar uw eerdere carrière en zelfs de manier waarop je dingen frasering lijkt Say Anything and Stories, dat tijdperk.

EP: Blij dat je opgepikt op dat als het schrijven is meer als die tijd dan de dingen die ik heb gedaan in tussen.

MR: Aan de andere kant, deze partij van nummers lijkt heel emotioneel, het tegenovergestelde van uw eerdere, concept-gedreven materiaal.

EP: Deze nummers lijken meer uit de hals naar beneden in plaats van de nek. De teksten zijn beter toegankelijk vanaf de eerste luisterbeurt. Ik denk dat het meer landelijke stijl schrijven waar je gewoon zeggen wat je bedoelt, wat je voelt in plaats van te proberen alles te politiseren. Dus, het is gewoon meteen emotioneel verbindt en de productie niet in de weg af te leiden of, ongeacht het ondersteunt de sfeer van het lied is in een geweldige manier. Ik ben met jullie. Het is mijn beste plaat tot nu toe.

MR: Ja, ik denk ook dat The Day After Alles is veranderd, is uw beste als uw meest "commerciële" album tot op heden.

EP: Ja en ik denk dat te maken heeft met de onmiddellijke impact van de songs. Het duurt slechts een luisterbeurt of twee te raken in wat de nummers over gaan. Het is gedeeltelijk het schrijven en gedeeltelijk maken van de juiste keuzes productie-gewijs aan te haken mensen. "Commerciële" productie kan zeer Hokey worden.

MR: Ja. Ook de verpakking is mooi met echte aandacht voor detail.

EP: Ik wil niet dat mensen denken dat dit werd gedaan op een weinig of dat ik mensen bedelen voor geld op het internet. Het is echt meer geld dan iemand ooit heeft uitgegeven aan mij, hebben we niet alle hoeken snijden. Ik heb meer op de opname, meer besteed aan het kunstwerk, en besteedden meer op de markt brengen dan ik ooit heb besteed aan een ander project. Dus, het is niet een ding op alle strohalm. Het is een stap in een heleboel manieren.

MR: En als gevolg van uw rekening je carrière in eigen handen, niet steeds behoovin 'om een label, maar gaat de ventilator financiering route je hebt het mandaat om jezelf te uiten zoals je nodig hebt om artistiek.

EP: Ja. Ze proberen altijd te denken van de onderste lijn en eigenlijk niet wat het werkelijke product eruit ziet. Ze geven je dat je deadlines moeten worden gedaan door, dan moet u dit veel geld uit te geven, kunt u niet verder dan de begroting.

Al die dingen worden omzeild. We brachten zo veel als we die nodig is om een record te kunnen maken, en we huurden de juiste mensen voor het ontwerp, die kon uitdrukken wie ik ben en wat ik wil in plaats van wat de platenmaatschappij wil. Het voelt meer echt, meer me, meer kunstzinnige, creatieve meer.

MR: Het is altijd leuk als het album concept wordt bovendien ondersteund door de illustraties. Zoals we richting CDs pensioen, ik denk dat het logisch is dat de illustratie is het grootste slachtoffer.

EP: Ik denk dat mensen zijn CD dogging kunstwerk omdat het zo klein en het wegebben naarmate meer en meer records worden steeds kleiner en kleiner en gaan naar digitaal. Dus hebben we besloten om het kunstwerk te maximaliseren wat zou zeggen. We hebben echt onze tijd genomen met het kunstwerk en de ontwerper heeft een geweldige job. Er was een soort thema van de doop en vernieuwing in alle opnamen van de foto van het water.

MR: Hoewel mijn favoriete foto is het een van jullie in de kamer met de gitaar in de hoek met de zonsondergang door de erker.

EP: Dat was in een klein bed and breakfast villa in Orange, Virginia, die we hebben gevonden op het internet. We dachten over elke locatie en het uitzoeken hoe het drama van het kunstwerk samen met het drama dat aan de hand was in de nummers te maken.

MR: Hoe maak je dit de beste online ervaring voor je fans?

EP: Nou, ik ben van plan om mensen meer te weten over YouTube en Facebook interacties met.

MR: En de website?

EP: Ik wil dat het is als een kleine tuin. Ik wil dat die gevuld worden met koele kijken dingen dan onkruid. Ik denk dat veel mensen gewoon naar buiten gooien onkruid op hun websites. Ze hebben net laten hun tuinen gaat volledig, laat het gaan voor de jaren stagneert en gooien afval op het op dat geen enkele waarde. Dit zijn dingen die kan blijven jaren en jaren te komen na zijn we allemaal allang verdwenen zijn, dus het zal een website die van hoge kwaliteit zal zijn. Ik denk dat is de reden waarom het kunstwerk zo belangrijk is. Ik wil alleen maar om het uit te steken.

MR: Eerder heb ik opgevoed "Annalee," maar "Rose Tattoo" is ook een behoorlijk catchy song, compleet met een sing-a-long vibe aan het eind.

EP: Met "Rose Tattoo" Ik heb een hoop van die dingen met Jim Croce twee gitaren laten draaien links en rechts. Ik ben blij met die ene. Maar weet je, ik ben blij met elk van hen.

MR: U eindigde het album met de intense "Nothing Left To Take" dat is een zeer ongewone lied. Kun je het een beetje te bespreken?

EP: Ik had een verhaal gehoord over een stel dat uit elkaar en er was betrokken alcohol. Een van de partijen was een alcoholist en stapte in een auto-ongeluk. Dus, heb ik geprobeerd aan te kleden dat verhaal, en een groot deel van de specifieke details soort kwam neer op de fles, terwijl hij aan het rijden was. Er was een tijd daalt als de vraag hoe de breuk is gebeurd. Vijftien seconden, een minuut, een uur als een klok tikt als de song is er aan de hand.

MR: Welke liedje ben je het dichtst bij?

EP: "Hurricane Angel" lijkt te worden die ik het meest aangetrokken tot, hoewel het niet een lied over mij. Het gaat over een Katrina slachtoffer en het kruispunt na de storm, dat is gebeurd, en proberen te achterhalen hoe om hulp te krijgen. Hij is een gebaar naar de verzekeringsmaatschappijen, de president, en God op zoek naar wat hulp en noodhulp.

MR: Het is jaren later en de nasleep van Katrina en er is schade nog overgebleven.

EP: Ik schreef dat na alle van de slachtoffers van Katrina werden in de FEMA-trailers en werden geschopt omdat ze van formaldehyde vergiftiging, bijna 40.000 mensen haalden hun aanhangwagens ontnomen. Ik denk dat ze werden vergiftigd krijgen van de formaldehyde, dat was in de muren, en het gewoon was voor mij aanleiding om het te schrijven. Er is gewoon geen enkele manier dat deze mensen kunnen daar winnen. Het is gewoon bump snelheid na verkeersdrempel na de verkeersdrempel.

MR: Je was een maatschappelijk werker op een bepaald punt, toch?

EP: Ja, in mijn twintiger jaren na de universiteit voor ongeveer vier of vijf jaar.

MR: Vindt u zelf te willen springen in specifieke sociale oorzaken?

EP: Ja. Ik wil schrijven over die dingen, maar vaak tijden, kun je niet dwingen het onderwerp. Je begint dat te doen en vervolgens een nummer uit komt (dat is) een stuk van de s ** t. Ik probeer mijn hoofd en wikkel rond deze problemen, maar ik ben gewoon te wachten tot het juiste verhaal bij mij te komen. Het is een uitdaging voor mij als zelfstandige aan de ziektekostenverzekering veroorloven ik nodig om mijn gezin te dekken. Dus, het zal een sociaal probleem dat mijn leven in een of andere manier adressen worden en dan moet ik een verhaal dat ik kan de emoties van het adres te vinden, dus het kostte me vijf jaar aan de Katrina song te schrijven.

MR: Een balans van sentiment en constructieve betrokkenheid. Interessant, het duurt een tijdje om te weten wat te praten over wanneer je er over te praten.

EP: Wanneer (Katrina) is gebeurd, waren er duizend liedjes geschreven in de weken na dat. Het was te groot van een evenement voor mij om ooit te krijgen over doel voor mij om over te schrijven. Er waren een paar mooie liedjes geschreven, maar ik moet zeggen, hoewel een groot aantal nummers werden geschreven van dat moment, kon ik niet doen. Het was gewoon te groot van een ding.

MR: Dit project algemene verklaring lijkt te zijn, "Oke, alles is veranderd en nu is het tijd om te leven te beginnen." Was dat de bedoeling?

EP: ik heb kinderen en nu ben ik weer terug naar de laatste 20 jaar van mijn leven en wat ga ik doen met de komende 20 jaar van mijn leven, zo lijkt het als: 'Wat moet ik nu doen? 'Ik ben bij de rust van de Super Bowl van mijn leven en ik ben reflecterend. Ik ben op zoek terug, en veel van deze nummers gaan over mensen die over, u weet, een kerel die net ontslagen en is thuis, en in het eerste nummer is er een man die is terug naar school te gaan en zich afvragen wat de toekomst in petto voor hem. Dus, zijn elk van de personages nadert een soort van grote kruispunten en proberen te besluiten over wat hun toekomst eruit gaat zien en die weg te nemen te maken. Ik denk dat ik soort van in die plaats in mijn eigen leven wordt op een half punt ook.

MR: Op dit halverwege, zijn er dingen die je niet muzikaal gedaan zou kunnen worden onderzocht in de komende projecten?

EP: Ik denk het wel. Als ik kan de komende vier of vijf records doen met dezelfde batch van de mensen en de aanpak van de songwriting op dezelfde manier, ik heb echt het gevoel dat we konden krijgen opgesloten in iets dat lijkt op een 'sweet spot'. Ik voel me meer gecentreerd met mijn productie-en schrijfstijl. Het voelt eigenlijk net vond ik mijn ding. Als ik kan schrijven uit deze plaats en schrijf de volgende vier of vijf records dit goed, zelfs zonder enig commercieel succes, zou ik blij alleen voor het blussen van records die dit elke keer goed.

Tracks:
1. Annalee
2. Rose Tattoo
3. River Road
4. The Day After alles veranderd
5. De lichten van Vegas
6. Hurricane Angel
7. Heaven's waar u ook bent
8. Libel
9. Ergens, Ergens
10. Once Upon A Summertime
11. Waking Up To Me
12. Walking After Midnight / wijzigen
13. Het Cotton's Burning
14. Paper Dolls
15. Niets meer te nemen

(Getranscribeerd door Erika Richards)

PERSBERICHT:

Verstoorde over het milieu

Multi-platina, Grammy-genomineerde harde Disturbed rockband hebben vrijgegeven voor de video van hun nummer 1 single "Another Way to Die '. 
 De video, gemaakt door Roboshobo (Mastodon, Metallica), is een hard-hitting, verontrustende blik op de gevaren van het uitblijven van zorg voor ons milieu. Voorbeelden van opwarming van de aarde, vervuiling, ontbossing en overvolle stortplaatsen worden afgewisseld met een post-apocalyptische vertelling. "Thematisch, het lied gaat over opwarming van de aarde en hoe de keuzes die we maken van invloed op de planeet", verklaart gitarist Dan Donegan. "Het is een nieuw onderwerp voor ons, en het zal hopelijk een beetje verhogen bewustzijn." Frontman David Draiman vervolgt: "Het is zeker bedoeld om de gevolgen van de toegeeflijke het leven leiden dat de meeste mensen te trekken. Het is bedoeld om een contrast om dingen te trekken en de gevolgen van het misbruik die we veroorzaken om onze planeet te laten zien. "
De baan zelf is al een # 1 hit op Active Rock Radio. "Een andere manier te sterven" is de hoogste Billboard Active Rots debuut in de geschiedenis Verstoorde en de snelste # 1 voor de band in de Billboard's Active Rots grafiek, om naar # 1 in slechts 4 weken. Het is ook de snelste # 1 in de Billboard's Active Rots chart in meer dan 3 jaar en is de band zevende nummer 1 hit in de Billboard's Active Rots grafiek: ze zijn verbonden met Metallica voor de 3e meeste # 1's op het Active Rots grafiek.

"Een andere manier om te sterven" door Disturbed

Volg Mike Ragogna op Twitter:

www.twitter.com/ragz2008

In de loop der jaren hebben de rock-star zijprojecten niet bijzonder goed gegaan. Vaker wel dan niet ze zijn een zelfgenoegzame puinhoop of een onbezonnen ego-trip, die weinig moeite waard om iemand anders dan toegewijde discipelen. Dus wat te maken van het nieuws dat Philip Selway, de bescheiden Radiohead drummer, is zijn eerste solo-album bijna 20 jaar gevierd introductie in de band carrière?

Voor een dergelijke zeer succesvolle groep, de leden van Radiohead behoren tot de meest verlegen publiciteit in de moderne muziek. Ze zijn echter niet aan de negatieve nogal raar album stunt, als de no-singles-to-be-released-uit-"Kid A" furore en de pay-wat-je-wilt-experiment voor hun laatste album " In Rainbows, "te bewijzen.

Selway is misschien wel de meest onbeduidende band lid, met weinig creatieve inbreng in de muziek van Radiohead, en wordt net zo bekend om zijn liefdadigheidswerk als elke vorm van muzikale bekwaamheid.

Het maakt zijn beslissing om een solo-carrière een verrassende start een, maar hier is hij met een wereldtournee te laten samenvallen met de release van zijn "familiale" album. Van zijn motivatie voor dit nieuwe project, Selway zegt: "Als je dezelfde leeftijd als de minister-president, denk je: 'Ik had beter aan de slag met dit." "

Geproduceerd door Ian Davenport van Radiohead's Courtyard Studios in Oxfordshire hun basis, 'Familial "schok zal velen. Dat is niet alleen vanwege de emotionele resonantie van de spaarzame folk en beklijvende melodieën geïnspireerd door de dood van zijn moeder in 2006 daadwerkelijk in beweging is, maar omdat het is eigenlijk best goed.

Japanse fans moeten vooral enthousiast, maar niet te spreken bevoorrechte, zoals whistle-stop tour Selway's - een datum in Tokio gevolgd door een in Osaka - zijn debuut zijn live shows. Niet eens de Britse fans zullen de kans hebben gehad om te zien wat zijn zeker zullen zijn, op zijn minst, een aantal intrigerende shows met miskende talent van Radiohead.

They Might Be Giants won een Grammy Award in 2002 voor hun half-afgewerkte song "van Boss Me ', die als de theme song gediend voor de hit show" Malcolm in the Middle ", zegt John Flansburgh, een van de oprichters van de Brooklyn geboren band.

"We hadden geen idee van dat lied zou een klap zijn, 'zei hij. "Het succes van dat lied illustreert echt hoe je gewoon niet kan vertellen hoe iets is gaan werken."

TMBG, die aan de Rio Theatre in Santa Cruz op vrijdag uit te voeren, heeft een manier van het maken van dingen die uit te werken.

TMBG, opgericht in 1982 door John en John Flansburgh Linnell - vaak aangeduid als de twee Johns - begon ergens tussen alternatieve rock en performancekunst, Flansburgh gezegd. Flansburgh bespeelde de gitaar, Linnell speelde accordeon en saxofoon en, getrouw aan 1980 dance cultuur, ze rocken een drummachine.

"Ons soort spul was nogal raar album," zei Flansburgh. "We waren niet geaccepteerd als een echte band, 'maar op deze performance kunst plaatsen we de rots jongens,' dus we waren soort van gevangen zitten tussen."

Maar TMBG, geboren in het tijdperk van de vrije vorm radio-en punk rock, niet schelen waar ze speelden, net zo lang als ze speelden, zei hij.

"We zijn geen virtuozen," zei Flansburgh. "Als je niet bent een virtuoos, het is een soort van een bescheidener. Ik weet niet wat het zou zijn om te gaan door de wereld denken dat ik ben helemaal hot stuff. Onze skill set is een beetje meer opzettelijk. We hadden eigenlijk moeten werken aan wat we bereiken, en ik denk dat we heel veel halen uit het werk dat

we doen. "

Maar, wat TMBG miste in de virtuositeit, maakten zij voor met creativiteit.

Bijvoorbeeld, voor hun prestaties van hun lied, "nummer drie," zetten ze hun instrumenten neer en droeg reus, hot pink, papier-mache handen, vervaardigd door Flansburgh, en deed een gechoreografeerde dans, zei hij.

In the late '80s, their project, “Dial-a-Song,” set them aside from other bands.

They recorded their songs onto a phone answering machine so that when people called in they would hear TMBG on the recording, Flansburgh said. They changed the song daily and advertised the phone number in the New York weekly newspaper the Village Voice.

“It was quite the phenomenon,” he said. “It made us different from any other band and it was, uniquely, our own.”

The Two Johns began performing in the East Village New York club scene, where they gathered a local following, he said.

“The East Village scene pushed us into the national spotlight,” Flansburgh said. “It was pretty freaky in the mid '80s. There was a really hardcore night club scene, there were a lot of drugs and everything was hyper-sexualized. Stylistically, we were kind of the opposite of dance floor music but I think the fact that we worked with a drum machine helped bridge us into that world.”

TMBG found success and produced four albums as a duo, and in the early '90s they expanded into a full band, he said. Though they still used a drum machine and pre-recorded music, they took on a keyboardist, a drummer and a bassist.

TMBG's unconventional style, unusual subject matter and low budget but wild MTV videos, shot by television producer Adam Bernstein, gained them wide spread recognition and a big fan following, Flansburgh said.

Their music videos, which were adapted from their stage performances, often featured off-the-wall ideas, Flansburgh said.

“I think one of the reasons our videos did so well, besides our incredibly handsome faces, was that they were shot on film,” he said. “Even though they were very low budget, they looked more authentic than the video in 1986. It gave us more of an artistic value and that was a lucky break for us.”

In 2002, TMBG did a kids' record called “No!” which was very warmly received, Flansburgh said. After that, writing kids' music became a parallel industry for them.

TMBG's most recent, 2009 album for kids, “Here Comes Science,” uses catchy alternative rock to introduce listeners to applied sciences, according to their Web site. Songs such as, “Meet the Elements,” “What Is a Shooting Star” and “My Brother the Ape,” entertain as well as teach. The group is working on additional children's music but is also due to release another grown-up album in 2010.

“We're just trying to find a way to make a song that's a little more unexpected,” Flansburgh said. “We're were just trying to find our own voice in a “” well “” a really crazy world.”

De Crowded House frontman is druk bezig geweest met van alle dingen, een radioprogramma over bloemen

Door George Varga , unie-Tribune

Oorspronkelijk gepubliceerd 19-08-2010 om 09:49, bijgewerkt op 2010-08-19 om 10:56

Muziek fans over de hele wereld weten Neil Finn als de getalenteerde leider van Crowded House, de meest succesvolle pop-rock van Nieuw-Zeeland band ooit, en als voormalig lid van Split Enz, de meest eigenzinnige band van Nieuw-Zeeland ooit. Fans weten ook dat de oudere broer van Neil, Tim, Split Enz (die Neil toegetreden in 1977 op de leeftijd van 18 opgericht), dat Tim Crowded House is lid geworden in 1991 voor een paar jaar, en dat zowel zijn maatjes met de ex-San Diegan Eddie Vedder, die 1981 bijgewoond memorabele concert van Split Enz hier bij de staat Theater.

Maar hier zijn enkele dingen die je misschien niet weet over Neil Finn, die voert hier zondag met de vernieuwde Crowded House op Humphrey's Concerts bij de baai, ter ondersteuning van "intrigant" van de groep te arresteren nieuwe album.

Fresh bloei: Deze veteraan singer-songwriter en bandleider gastheren nu een radio show in Nieuw-Zeeland, "Neil Finn's Cornucopia van de bloemen." Tot nu toe heeft hij de show gebruikt om de allure van de zonnebloemen te verkennen, narcissen, gardenia, hyacinten, papavers , lotussen en pioenen. (U kunt horen "Cornucopia" online op 95bfm.com/index.sm) . Maar wat precies, kwalificeert hem te bespreken bloemen en bloesems?

Finn: "Ik wil niet om u elke illusie heb ik geen echte diepte van de kennis. Ik heb gevraagd om de show te doen. Het was de meest ongewone ding dat ik ooit ben geweest, vroeg vooral gezien mijn gebrek aan kennis. Maar ik dacht: 'Ik zal nooit die weer worden gevraagd, dus ik zou het moeten doen. "

Pedal Pusher: Een enthousiaste fietser, Finn heeft ontdekt dat honen zijn liedteksten gemakkelijk komt wanneer hij weg is fietsen of wanneer hij gewoon te voet. Gelukkig, hij heeft nog nooit een ongeval gehad terwijl piekeren een lastige couplet of refrein op zijn fiets.

Finn: “I ride about 6 to 10 kilometers and it's a great place to go over lyrics, on your bike, or walking as well. If you're searching for a few lines, you can get it. The rhythm of those activities things is quite good for songwriting.”

Fruits & nuts: While some bands take great delight in demanding that colorful (and sometimes outrageous) items be provided in their backstage dressing rooms, Crowded House is not one of them.

Finn: “I would think we're fairly easy to please. We ask for avocados, salt-and-pepper potato chips, tamarind-almonds, fruit and some nice bottles of red wine. That's the extent of it, really. We don't take delight in making (concert) promoters find pretty odd album things. We don't even ask for M&Ms!”

Sugar rush: Finn does admit to having a sweet tooth, although, he notes: “I don't eat as much I used to.” Does he have any favorite sweet treats from his native New Zealand?

Finn: “As far as confectioneries go, I'm very fond of Chocolate Fish, which is just exactly what it sounds like: a chocolate marshmallow, shaped like a fish. And Pineapple Lumps are pretty good as well. Do we ever ask for Chocolate Fish and Pineapple Lumps to be stocked in our dressing rooms? No, that would be really problematical for promoters in America to find, which — hmm — is tempting!”

Rob Sheffield's new book, Talking To Girls About Duran Duran: One Young Man's Quest for True Love and a Cooler Haircut must have been titled by the publisher rather than the author. There was no questing for true love. Yearning and pining, perhaps, but no discernable actions were taken by the author to actually acquire a girlfriend. Despite having the advantage of three outgoing sisters who gamely attempted to transform him into a babe magnet and generally school him on the subtleties of elusive, mysterious minds and hearts of teenage girls, Sheffield was too paralyzed by fear and anxiety to talk to most girls, let alone bust a move. This is understandable for an awkward, gawky 15-16 year-old. But his neurosis extended throughout the entire decade of the 80s, well into his early 20s. It certainly takes balls to admit that, and makes me feel a little better that I at least managed to conquer my own fears just shy of 19.

So it's not really about talking to girls, nor questing for love, and not even much about Duran Duran. Instead, it's an episodic series of 25 impressionist vignettes using pop songs to talk about his life, which mainly involved listening to music, driving ice cream trucks, staying with his grandfather, thinking about religion, hanging around some girls and thinking about talking to them, but mostly not. Those looking for a compelling, heartbreaking narrative arc like his first book, Love Is A Mix Tape , will be left wanting. This book will appeal more to music trainspotter types who love the 80s. Really, really love the 80s. One of the most admirable things about the book is that Sheffield manages to be funny without using the crutch of irony. There's very little irony, only sincere love letters to 80s pop as it coincides with his hapless adolescence and early adulthood. I enjoyed Sheffield's enthusiasm for long-forgotten artifacts like Haysi Fantayzee, despite the fact that I hated the 80s. At least that aspect of it.

I was particularly struck with how he made 1986 seem particularly dreary, despite his enthusiasm. It seemed like a year that nothing really significant happened in music. And it does coincide with the conventional wisdom that the mid-eighties were a cultural wasteland. Sheffield characterized that era with Rambo and Top Gun, sources of repeated hilarity and guilty pleasures at the time, but best forgotten. Of course it was also the year of Aliens, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, One Crazy Summer, Blue Velvet, The Name Of The Rose, Down By Law, The Big Easy, Matador, Something Wild, Sid And Nancy, Nine 1/2 Weeks and Pretty In Pink. By now you're realizing this isn't really a review of Talking To Girls About Duran Duran , just like the book wasn't really about girls or Duran Duran. Let's talk more about 1986.

1986 was when MTV started to royally suck. Hit videos were repeated so often they would often appear twice in the same hour, including the likes of Tina Turner, Whitney Houston, Heart, Bon Jovi, Bruce Hornsby, Janet Jackson, Madonna, Billy Idol, Mr. Mister, Lionel Richie, Billy Ocean, Starship, Robert Palmer, Genesis, Steve Winwood, Huey Lewis & The News, The Bangles, Falco and Wang Chung. Not all of it was horrible, but just for the indignity of being force-fed the stuff so repetitively, every single one of them made me want to drive nails into my raging, sexually frustrated teenage skull. Or better yet, their skulls. Bon Jovi particularly irked me at the time, because I thought at first he sounded alright, a kind of metallized Bruce Springsteen. But then I saw the videos with his ridiculousy poofed hair and cheesy preening that was blatantly aimed toward an audience of screaming tweener girls, and I somehow felt betrayed. Similarly, the tunes from Madonna's first album made me think she was like a former tough New York punk chick who discovered dance music, like Blondie. But her later hits like “Like A Virgin,” “Papa Don't Preach” and “True Blue” drove me insane with their obviously, cynically calculated, cold feel. Feh, sellout.

1986 felt uneventful for some as it was an pretty odd album limbo between the blockbusters of Thriller, Purple Rain, Born In The USA, , and later hits like Faith, The Joshua Tree, Bad, Hysteria and, erm, Dirty Dancing . Other major post-punk and indie bands like The Cure, Echo & The Bunnymen, The Replacements, The Pogues, Tom Waits, The Jesus And Mary Chain, Naked Raygun and Dinosaur Jr. also took a breather that year, when it was still common to put out albums every year.

1986 was pretty uneventful for me personally too. It spanned the spring of my junior year and the fall of my senior year in high school. I ran track and cross country, applied to colleges but didn't know where I was going yet, and needless to say I had no girlfriend. But my relationship with rock 'n' roll was getting pretty dang mature, if you count our first date when I bought my first album, Gary Numan's The Pleasure Principle in 1979. I had quickly graduated from buying 45s to albums that year, and I was hooked. I was always about the album. A single was over way too quickly, then you had to get up and flip it or put on something else. It was like a commercial or a movie preview. Listening to an album was more like the main event, or like reading a good book. It gave me time to read or do homework during the 16 to 20 minute sides. I was addicted, shoveling snowdrifts bigger than me at age 9-12 during the winter and raiding trash cans after summer house parties for beer and pop cans with 5 cent refunds to support my habit.

The liberating factor that easied my financial restrictions was the acquisition in the end of 1985, of my Aiwa double cassette deck mini stereo with graphic equalizer. It was not quite a real stereo, but it was bigger than a boombox, with detachable speakers. It was my sweet baby that allowed me to horde ten times the amount of music than I had previously. A local rock station would play new albums in their entirety on Sunday nights, and I could tape them. But most importantly, whenever I or my small group of friends would get tapes via the Columbia and RCA clubs, local stores The Asteroid or Musicland, or Target's $5.99 sales, we could dub them for each other. At 16 I had a fair collection of 100 or so records and tapes. And a want list of another 500. When college/public radio station KUNI would play something enticing, I'd take notes. I had a long-standing ritual of scouring reviews in CREEM, Trouser Press, Rolling Stone and RECORD magazine, which was bought out at the end of 1985 by SPIN . I was well equipped to side-step the tyranny of MTV and top 40 radio and find out what else the world of music had to offer. By the time 1986 rolled around, I was 5'9″ and barely 100 lbs (with 4 more inches and 60 lbs of growth ahead) of quivering, twitchy teenage music obsession, ready to rock.

[More on music from 1986 with some videos. Click on my dorky picture at the end for the soundtrack, which I kindly matched the sound levels for you with Adobe Soundbooth.] Continue…

By Mark Saleski

pretty odd album instruments in jazz: pedal steel guitar, theremin, the Samchillian (You'll have to trust me on this one. Its “formal” name is the “Samchillian Tip Tip Tip Cheeepeee.” Don't believe me? Look it up ), the harmonica, the human voice (if you're Shooby Taylor or Mike Patton), the saw blade. Some of these instruments are not “pretty odd album” so much as they are rare. If you look at the total number of jazz recordings out there, the percentage of them featuring the harmonica is pretty small. That will of course not stop me from enjoying my Toots Thielemans and Gregoire Maret records.

Steve Turre's main instrument is the trombone, and his resume there is long and impressive. Here's the short list: Lester Bowie, Art Blakey , Rahsaan Roland Kirk , Woody Shaw, Dizzy Gillespie , McCoy Tyner , Dexter Gordon, Pharoah Sanders . In his own ensembles, Turre's playing style carries the histories of Jack Teagarden and JJ Johnson while bringing modern sensibilities and hints of his salsa roots.

Where Turre really made his mark was when he began to incorporate sea shells into the music. My first encounter with him was with the 1993 album Sanctified Shells . It's a stunning recording that puts the focus on the warm tones of the shells, spiced with plenty of percussion. I was hooked.

On Delicious and Delightful , Turre puts much of his history on display as well as some soulful conch shell magic. Often, it is the surprising juxtaposition of these things that perks up the ear. On the opening “Light Within,” Turre plays a long introduction using three different shells. This segment morphs into the head and then shoots off in another direction as tenor saxophonist Billy Harper shatters the aural space with a blistering solo.

What is not surprising are the nice grooves that result when guitarist Russell Malone enters the picture. The title track is a blues vamp that leads to some particularly hot solos. On the closing “Ray's Collard Greens,” originally written for Ray Charles (see Turre's album In The Spur Of The Moment ), Malone takes a solo that gives way to the trombone, piano, and then the shells. I guess I had forgotten what Turre can do with these things because he ends up going all Rahsaan on us, with multiple tones being sounded, shaking with passion. Really great stuff.

There are many hilights here (and more reveal themselves every day) but to my ears you can't beat the burning Cherokee-on-steroids of “Blackfoot” and the off-kilter shuffle of “Dance of the Gazelles.” The former tune features what sounds like a deconstructed “Cherokee,” introduced in quickly passing fragments, followed by the most intense solos of the program. Turre takes the second spot of just leans into it. The latter composition kicks off with a wicked little vamp featuring just percussion and bass. The piano then enters with a nervous ostinato the seals the groove for the solos to come. The liner notes state that the rhythm being used is the “African 6.” The interactions that spin out of it are just crackling energy. At one point the horns drop back to let the rhythm section push the groove, a terrific device because when Billy Harper reenters, you not only hear it, you feel it.

You might think that using shells in a jazz context is a little hokey, a kind of jazz parlor trick. One listen to this album and you'll be convinced that Steve Turre is as serious as your life. After we come to an agreement on that, maybe we can sit down and talk about the Samchillian.
Continue…

Out of everything featured this week, Thorsten Sideboard's Highpoint Lowlife label stands out as an anomaly, not least because it has existed in some form since before what became known as dubstep had even begun to escape from its South London crucible. And over the last few years it has had very little to do with the evolution of that genre specifically, instead focusing on the pretty odd album hinterlands where genres intersect – formless noise blending into electronica and indie rock, hip-hop, techno and, in recent years, latent influences from the expansion of UK bass music. So a quick word of admission then: this week offered the perfect opportunity to feature one of my personal favourite record labels, despite the fact that it fits loosely at best with its overarching theme.

In any case, the last few years though have been particularly fascinating to witness, as Highpoint Lowlife made the transition from a label focused on physical products to primarily digital distribution. In doing so they forged an inspirational path, making roundly excellent full-length albums available for only a fiver, and even less for EPs – and selling through its own website, they were able to generate enough income to support the label with far lower outside costs.

So the last few years have seen the label's release schedule pick up momentum. The reduced costs of releasing digitally have allowed them to put out recent acclaimed albums from the likes 10-20, The Village Orchestra and Roof Light, as well as a host of other smaller names. And as the scene that grew from dubstep has gained momentum and begun to infiltrate other sounds, its presence has gradually made itself known in subtle, subconscious ways – sub-bass bubbling up through the aquatic hip-hop of 10-20 and lending extra weight to TVO's techno hybrid tracks and genre-bending DJ sets.

At this point his label has never been in greater health, but Thorsten has chosen to finish its tenure this summer to focus on other projects. His label biography, also on the site today, explains a little about its history. Still, as the Highpoint Lowlife story is coming to an end it also seemed appropriate to snare him for a short interview, where he reveals a little more about the label's story and the exclusive mix he's recorded for us.

DiS: When you first started the label, did you have any inkling that you'd still be running it nearly a decade later? And was it ever intended as a long-lived thing?

Thorsten: No, absolutely no idea! Although in saying that, I don't think anyone ever really plans ahead like that when you're starting out, you just go with it and its only retrospectively you realise how long you've been involved in a project.

Was there a particular aesthetic you intended to pursue with the label – either artistically or musically – or was it more of an organic thing? I feel like there's a very strong common thread running through everything on Highpoint Lowlife, though I'd be hard pressed to put my finger on what exactly it is…

Yeah, although the roster evolved in a very organic manner, from the beginning there was a conscious decision to focus on music that was personal, from friends and like-minded people. It was always based around the assumption that our taste would never be unique – that is, that if we simply focused on music that sounded good to us, that we wanted to listen to, there would invariably always be somewhat of an audience who agreed and would want to listen also.

Obviously you were very involved in the digital face of the music industry from the very beginning, and able to adapt quite quickly to changes as a small label. How did you find the process of adapting to changes in musical consumption – and how challenging was the final shift from physical to digital?

There was definitely something of a stigma attached to non-physical releases to begin with, but I think that was purely an anachronism of the time and looking back, it seems funny to think that way. It's still lovely to have a physical object – I do love having a vinyl release, holding it in your hands, feeling the weight and tactility of it; however CDs were never a nice experience, the squashed 5″ artwork, the growing mass of homogeneous and fragile jewel-case covers littering your desk and shelves. I find it frustrating when labels deliberately hold back the digital release a week longer than the physical, as if they think somehow it will stop piracy or force people to buy the physical version – some people want physical and some want digital, they don't encroach on one another, and I find it arrogant of a label to try to force me into their preferred format. If someone has just released an album and I want to buy a copy of it, to pay them money for it, it just strikes me as daft that they won't let me. Chances are by the time the following week has rolled around, I will have found a leaked copy to download for free and that I'll just spend my money on something else.

Do you have any particular opinions yourself about the digitisation of music, and the shift away from a physical product to something essentially intangible?

I believe there is still a special place for a physical object and well-thought out design to accompany musical works, but I feel that it can be something different and special, now that it's no longer an essential component. Again going back to the example of a CD, for several years it was common to buy the CD, use it once to rip mp3s from it, then for that disc to sit unused and unneeded on your shelves. That's not artwork, that was just a temporary distribution and backup solution until we received ubiquitous bandwidth, and worked out some basics for how a digital music economy should function. Looking back more historically, music has always been intangible, however we've grown so used to the idea that music is a commodity “product”, when it's actually something so much more, it's a feeling, an experience, a social event or a private one.

Do you see the future of music distribution and consumption as lying primarily in digital media? And by extension, do you think that the future lies in smaller, relatively niche labels like Highpoint Lowlife, rather than impersonal majors?

I've always believed it will be a combination. Digital is the more convenient and cheaper method for distribution and consumption, and as such will definitely be the standard. Conversely though, that opens up an avenue to be explored, where the physical and tactile are given back the magic and special feeling that were so often taken for granted, where you are aware of the time and effort spent in the design and construction. Niche and specialist definitely seem like the future to me, however I never believe it's that black and white – it's not like niche and mainstream can't exist side by side, it's purely a personal preference.

There have been huge shifts in electronic music over the time the label's been around – and in the last few years, as your label has become more prominent, the rise of dubstep has been a huge thing. It seems to have had a real effect on electronic music far outside its expected spheres of influence.

I agree, I think dubstep has had a massive invigorating influence on the whole electronic music world. By 2004 electronic music was looked pretty flaccid, with IDM being a dirty word, but dubstep got me out clubbing again after a couple years of not having been interested in house and techno. That physicality brought about by large soundsystems, and that space to breathe provided by the halfstep beat opened up a lot of room for experimentation and thought. It created a massive splash, and its effects are still rippling and mutating through the production world.

What does the future hold for the artists currently operating on Highpoint Lowlife? Some of them – 10-20, TVO, Hot City, Roof Light – seem to be making a real name for themselves, and I presume they'll move onward and carry on doing other things?

Yeah, most definitely, I can see big things coming for them all – Roof Light has some other pieces coming out soon on Styrax and L2S, while Hot City has officially signed with Moshi Moshi records, with an album due for next year. TVO has just started his own label called Broken20 – which I think will really make a name for itself. 10-20 has been working on some great new stuff, and has a few pieces due out soon on compilations

Could you tell me a bit about the mix you've recorded – what's on it, what range of stuff, any particular theme, etc?

I wanted to reflect the history and scope of the label, but it was quite hard to do that within an hour's mix, and as such it shows more of the beat driven electronic side. There are a couple of key things missing – the guitar influence (apart from the opening Mandelbrot Set track) such as the releases we had from Like A Stuntman who were a big part of the label for a couple of years, and also Fuck-Off Machete; The ambient side of things also isn't well represented: the work we've released from Pausal and Alpine, Ruaridh/TVO's more ambient side, and Erstlaub (although the Daigoro track finishing the mix is also by Dave Fyans from our compilation of Scottish electronica). Having said all those disclaimers however, I think it's a good, fair representation of the spirit of Highpoint Lowlife and features most of the artists we've worked with over the years. Hope you enjoy it!

Highpoint Lowlife: mixed by Thorsten Sideboard

Mandelbrot Set – Astronomy and Allied Sciences 1b
Depakote – Darby
Izu – Get In And Don't Come Out
Roof Light – Kite Tails And Redwings
n.ln – thoughts
Marshall Watson – Invariant
10-20 – Globe
Dalglish – untitled
Funckarma – Stub Dane
Recon – Circle
Fisk Industries – Crowley
Rashamon – Windo Loca
The Marcia Blaine School For Girls – The Ratio
Bovaflux – Kleine
randomNumber – Troubled Moves
Hot City – Head Work
Erik XVI – Unionens sista dagar (Ali Renault Trill Remix)
Daigoro – Lumimotion

Download at higher quality here .

Check out more about Highpoint Lowlife and their release catalogue at their website and in this article here

Another, arguably more important guiding principle for N vs. S is friendship. As corny as that may sound in this irony-saturated age, the incestuous nature of the 55 bands on display, with members shared between at least two or three, acts, denotes the companionship that comes from shared vision. This is true of the audience as well – not only were the crowds made up largely of musicians (a common occurrence at the Hole in the Wall anyway), but it was filled up by various longtime friends and family members – sharp observers would notice the same faces we've seen for years at these acts' shows.

Bringing these folks together for this festival was simply a love of music. At a mere $20 for three days of performances, the price was such a bargain the festival couldn't possibly go into the black. The vast majority of the acts didn't bother to push merchandise – indeed, the Pedaljets, one of the few who did bring CDs and T-shirts, were happy to give their goods away. Making money or raising profiles were not the driving forces behind what went on here – the North Vs. South Festival, and the bands participating, were united simply by the joy of playing rock & roll together. How much more pure can a motive be?

The first act up on Thursday was fest co-founder Baby Grant Johnson. Normally the leader of the Bitter Spills, the Minneapolis-based singer/guitarist put his raspy voice and superb fingerpicking skills to the service of a set of blues and country covers and his own originals. Strong tunes like “Take a Whiff on Me” and Lefty Frizzell's “Saginaw, Michigan” resonated, no matter what the age of the audience, but the amazing sound of his open-tuned 12-string slide work dominated. Less crusty or theatrical than Austin troubadour Scott H. Biram, Johnson nonetheless traveled a similar dirt road, mixing Mississippi John Hurt, Hank Williams and Doc Watson as naturally as a bartender mixes an old-fashioned. While hampered a bit by his self-criticism at how long he took to retune between songs, Johnson's set was a great way to start off a long night of music.

Next up was Austin's own working class heroes/court jesters the Service Industry. The SI is one of those local acts that makes the incestuous nature of the River City scene clear, as the band consists of current and former members of the Wannabes, the Wayouts, the Rockland Eagles, Fire Marshals of Bethlehem, the Picket Line Coyotes, the American People and Cher UK The latter two were represented by festival driving force Mike McCoy, who traded vocals and lyrics with Julie Lowery like the Lee Hazelwood and Nancy Sinatra of Texas indie rock. While the band is well known for songs addressing class warfare and the issues of art versus the day job, they've expanded their concerns considerably, adding more social commentary and relationship grumbles. Loud, catchy tunes like “Calm Down,” “Phi Beta Kappa Queen” and “This Town Makes My Skin Crawl” use pithy lines to get the points across, but it's the kind of humor that springs first from a grimace. It was a strong set that really set the bar for the rest of the night.

Back on the Foley stage, Austin was represented once again with Militant Babies, a muscular power trio. The band's jagged postpunk came off as competent but uninspiring at first, but gained strength as the set progressed, with guitarist Geoff Lasch – way off the reservation of his former band the Golden Apples – providing most of the fireworks. The only response to that kind of pummeling is something more overtly tuneful, and Moonlight Towers definitely delivered on the Sahm stage. The Austin band's rootsy power pop is so consistent it's easy to take for granted – the quartet's tight, well-crafted tunes hold few surprises, but never lack in quality, either. A new album is imminent.

Next up, the Scriveners represented Kansas City with snotty punk/pop. Tunes like “Catching Some Z's” and “Playing Pinball With the Stars” betray the influence of the Dead Milkmen – not a bad thing, frankly – but the cleverness of the lyrics wasn't enough to overcome the routine noise of the music. Kudos, however, to the musicians – except for the singer, the other guys were not regular band members, joined for this gig only, and they sounded surprisingly tight for an ad-hoc lineup.

Far better was the debut of another Austin act made up of scene veterans: Polite Society. Filled out by members of Stretford and the Golden Apples and fronted by singer/songwriter Steve McCarthy – normally the drummer in the Diamond Smugglers and the Wannabes, as well as a principal in the Fighting Brothers McCarthy – the name of the game was straightforward, no-bullshit melodic rock & roll. “Fly to Me,” “Take You Down” and “Too Beautiful” boasted sing-along hooks and plenty of firepower. Ending with an ass-kicking cover of the Kinks' “Do It Again,” Polite Society established itself as a band to keep an ear on in this town.

After all the electricity in the air, it was time to get back to more wooden music with Deano and the Purvs. Sort of a Bloodshot Records supergroup, the Purvs consist of guitarist Bill Anderson and mandolinist Pete Stiles from the Meat Purveyors and a harmony singer, while Deano is Dean Schlabowske of the Waco Brothers. A showcase for Schlabowske songs like “Vacant Lot” and “Same Time, Same Channel,” the group moved from acoustic C&W to, with the addition of a rhythm section and Anderson switching from acoustic to Telecaster, boisterous country rock. Fans of the Bloodshot aesthetic would know what to expect, though the band played with a refreshing lack of the irony that slathers so much of the Chicago label's output.

Following a set of barroom country rock was the closest thing the festival had to a jam band. Mr. Marco & His v7s hail from Kansas City and make the kind of music that grows out of virtuoso exploration, rather than down-to-earth songwriting. While the nimble jazz/funk bass of Johnny Hamil and the spaced-out, atmospheric guitar beds of Mr. Marco himself provided the backbone, the real star was electric mandolinist/steel guitarist Michael Stover, who carried most of the melodies with his unassuming musicianship. The quartet's smooth mixture of folk, funk, worldbeat, skronk and metal – Hamil described one song as “what happens when Bad Brains and Iron Maiden make love in a Turkish hashbin” – came off like Friends of Dean Martinez with balls the size of sperm whales.

Nebraska's Platte River Rain cancelled, so their place on the Foley stage was taken by Faster Horses, another Kansas City act that had played outside earlier on the Lar Lar stage. The quartet's roots rock wasn't bad, but suffered from a lack of imagination, despite writing a song based on “Patsy Cline x 2,” an imaginary tune from the novel High Fidelity. Even that song was forgotten once Leatherbag ascended the Sahm stage. Led by songwriter Randy Reynolds, the Austin band proved why it's a fast rising favorite in the River City with a set concentrating on the rockers in its repertoire. A few tuning issues raised some bumps in the momentum, but every time the group tore through finely crafted numbers like “Here Comes Change,” “Senseless Irony” or “Forever Blue,” any awkwardness was forgotten.

Up next was yet another Austin supergroup: Why Not Satellite, fronted by Larry Seaman of Standing Waves (one of Austin's first new wave bands), joined by Cindy Toth of the Reivers, Randy Franklin of the Wild Seeds and Terri Lord of Sincola and too many other bands to count. Yet more technical issues (not an uncommon occurrence at the Hole, sadly) killed the set's momentum, but individually the band's jangly pop rock songs were quite good. The music may have been new, but the veterans' musical confidence made it as polished as anything more well established.

The night closed out with the Gay Sportscasters, another act stuffed with Austin vets and scenesters. Led by Hickoids frontman and Saustex label owner Jeff Smith and guitarist Three Dollar Bill, the Sportscasters – which also included Service Industry guitarist Alan Thomas, Moonlight Towers' keyboard player and longtime scene drummer Rob Gaines – good-naturedly strutted and stumbled their way through a set of noisy, novelty-fueled country and garage rock. Originals like “Swap Meet” and “Me and My Wallet” (“inspired by the city of hate – Dallas, Texas”) bumped uglies with covers of the Standells' “Dirty Water” (given Austincentric lyrics), Gary Glitter's “Rock 'n' Roll Pt. II” and KC & the Sunshine Band's “Get Down Tonight.” The music itself shared space with Smith and Bill's ongoing comedy routine and the slinky gyrations of the Lollygaggers, a pair of go-go dancing cleavage queens. Want to know where the Sportscasters are coming from? Check out these lines from “Denim Friendly”: “Sweet Jesus shovin' cooze/You know I was born to lose.” That says it all.

Friday night was more inconsistent in its pleasures, but still offered plenty of strong moments. We arrived to the sounds of Wood Roses, another project revolving around Mike McCoy. An Austin/Kansas City hybrid, featuring McCoy backed by members of the Scriveners, Mr. Marco's v7 and the Wannabes, the Roses played stripped-down country rock. No frills, no flourishes, no hot licks – just the straight, unfancy presentation McCoy's tunes demanded. Nice.

Back at the front window, the Tinys arrived on the Foley stage. Consisting of KC bassist Matt Cook, Gourds guitarist Charlie Bernard and Service Industry drummer/Hole in the Wall manager Travis Garrafa (who seemed to play with every other Austin band this weekend) and featuring special guest Michael Crow from Grand Champeen (who walked onstage in the middle of the set), the band essayed plainspoken power pop with some country seasoning. Unfortunately, the same virtues displayed by Wood Roses did the Tinys in – the lack of color only emphasized the weakness of the vocals and absence of energy. Only when Crow was allowed room to roam did the set pick up, and that wasn't very often.

After that underwhelming experience, it was time to head to the Lar Lar stage on the patio for the Rusticators. This River City combo was another entry in the country rock diary – two guitars, bass, drums and twang. The band's songs were solid but fairly generic, a fact underscored by more successful reworkings of Bob Dylan's “You Ain't Goin' Nowhere” and Alejandro Escovedo's “Pyramid of Tears.” Guitarist Kirke Mecham's busy fills gave the performances more color than the tunes themselves. In addition, the band was hampered by a lousy mix, which lost the quartet's vocals somewhere in the air around the stage. One suspects the Rusticators might be more effective in a more conducive sonic setting.

Far better was the next band to hit the Foley stage: Magnet School. A big, fat wad of jagged postpunk psychedelia, the Austin quartet sprayed guitar effects all over the front room of the Hole. Like a mating dance between Polvo and Swervedriver, the Schoolers really understand how to manipulate dynamics so it's more than just abrupt shifts from light to heavy or soft to loud. Dissonance subtly gives way to melody as the intensity slowly builds. Sometimes the band just lets sweet and sour clash, like the contrast between the clanging Telecaster and lush Jazzmaster wielded by the two guitarists. The music stopped just short of overwhelming, never devolving into formless noise – there are actual songs buried under the nuclear shimmer, after all. Some of the momentum was lost whenever the band had to retune, but those were minor blips on an otherwise compelling sonic stream.

The other parts of the country finally asserted themselves when Kansas City's Brannock Device took the Sahm stage. The foursome's angular postpunk revolved around the dueling dichotomy of extremely skilled musicianship and fairly annoying vocals. It's not that the singers lacked talent – quite the contrary, in the case of frontwoman Elaine McMilian. But this kind of blurted vocal style blessedly went out of fashion when the no wave movement hit its expiration date in the early 80s and wasn't missed. Still, the playing was often extraordinary, and the band's grasp of almost-but-not-quite-danceable rhythms was pretty impressive.

Back outside on the Lar Lar stage, Austin act the Perilous Tide brought the rawk & roll back in a big way. A bit too muscular to be called power pop, but too nimble and melodic for hard rock, the quartet confidently but not arrogantly occupied the guitar rock middle ground with tunes like “I Got Over You,” “THC” and “The Steal.” Four guys (including guitarist Geoff Lasch of Militant Babies and Polite Society) who don't look like rock stars playing music this loud and powerful is always welcome. Just call what the Perilous Tide does rock – because it does.

Once the Tide was out, the stage was quickly taken by the Daylight Titans, another long-running Austin institution with deep roots in the scene courtesy drummer David Mider (Javelin Boot, the Fire Marshals of Bethlehem) and guitarist Tim Swingle (Doctor's Mob). With a bit of jangle, some crunch, quite a bit of melody, the Titans are one of Austin's many responses to the 80s Midwestern explosion, with just enough twang in their approach to make their state of origin obvious. Frontdude Andy Smith's commanding baritone was a definite asset, cutting through the muddy sound and helping get sturdy songs like “C'mon C'mon Halfway Gone” and “The Ghost” across. Ending the set with the uncharacteristic but fun punk explosion of “Sharp Stick in the Eye,” the Titans blazed a familiar but still scenic trail.

Back inside on the Sahm stage, the Keep Aways held court. The Duluth trio was essentially a punk rock band, but with a metal edge. This came less from any inherent heaviness than from singer Mindy Johnson's penchant for guttural screaming and her razor-edged guitar tone. The band likes to fold thrash metal dynamics into its arrangements, yet there's enough melody and indie rock moan in Johnson's stance to keep the band far away from DRI territory. It's the little things that give the band's punk pop its own distinctive sway.

Due to a shuffle in the lineup, Austin's Corrina Corrina next took the Foley stage. Led by singer/songwriter Colin Swietek (and with Minneapolis/Austin gadfly Mike Nicolai in the lineup), the band played melodic folk rock that put emphasis on songs above all else. Tunes like “Black is the Color of Your Old Love's Heart” were impressive, but the band allowed the late Doug Sahm to steal the show by performing a soulful version of “At the Crossroads” directly below the painting of Sahm that hangs above the stage. Still, the band had a lot of promise.

Manheat, another Duluth act, played next on the Sahm stage. With a little punk, some pop, some arena rock and occasional flashes of U2's the Edge in the guitar work, the band was solid, but their songs weren't very memorable. Nice cover of Public Image Ltd.'s “Public Image,” though. The Foley stage next hosted the quirky Austin act Dorito, a psychedelic jam band with two drummers whose kits took up the entire stage, leaving the guitarist and bassist to stand on the floor in front of the tables. Between the propulsion provided by the extra percussion and the tendency of the string-slingers to be flashy but not over the top, the set ended up being rocking instead of meandering.

The show took another 180 degree turn with the presence of Ratcatcher (formerly know as Bastard Saint). The Minnesota trio was an out-and-out metal band – no hiding behind punk imagery or indie rock irony. The big blond Viking fronting the band tended to yell and scream more than sing, but his guitar work was stellar and he displayed a sense of humor in tracks like the raging “Winter Wants Me Dead.” One of the few bands unconnected to the rest of the lineup by shared membership, Ratcatcher nonetheless held the attention of the meager crowd, especially once they launched into a metalized cover of Cheap Trick's “Surrender,” inviting anyone who desired to join them on vocals.

Billy Joe Winghead finally took the Foley stage, to sighs of relief all around – the band's trailer has unexpectedly detached itself from their van during their drive to Austin, necessitating a lineup rearrangement in order to give them time to repair and get back on the road. The Tulsa favorite was Oklahoma's answer to satirical roots rockers Dash Rip Rock or the New Duncan Imperials, though punkier, noisier and just plain weirder. A BJW show means songs like “Branson On My Mind,” “Porno King” and “Rest Stop Romeo,” lyrics like “Jesus loves you but not that well/You're going straight to hell” and Theremin swoops garnishing otherwise straightforward covers of Santo & Johnny's “Sleepwalk” and Duke Ellington's “Caravan.” Gritty guitar and vocal noises get shot through with flamboyantly played mistakes – all part of the act, folks. One of the most seriously fun shows of the festival.

The final artist of the night was Kansas City legend Season to Risk. The on again/off again quintet has knocked their furious artpunk around for nearly two decades, and their professionalism was evident in its vise grip-tight attack. But not being a full time band also meant that the performance was infused with the enthusiasm of people who do this for fun, not as a job – singer Steve Tulipana was as interested in making jokes and connecting with buddies as in growling his way through the group's “hits.” S2R's meld of Fugazi, Helmet, Jesus Lizard and Jawbox (with added synth bleets and washes) hit all the right (noisy, dissonant) notes, firing up an unfortunately sparse but enthusiastic crowd.

The final day of the fest, Saturday began early on the Foley stage with Minneapolis guitarist Al Grande. We confess to arriving late for his set, but we were able to catch his crunchy version of the Motels' “Only the Lonely” (not a common cover choice), as well as one solid original tune and a closing cover of Chris Isaak's “Wicked Little Town.” Grande's voice was pretty flat, which puts the Isaak tune beyond him, but his guitar work was often stellar. If he's not a first call session man in his hometown, he should be.

Grande was followed almost immediately by Kansas City quartet Miss America. The band's rootsy power pop showed serious attention to craft, with well-written songs that went beyond three chords and three-part vocal harmonies that showed real ambition. There were a couple of clunkers, including the trendoid-baiting “Chillaxe,” and the group seems trapped in a midtempo groove, but tunes like “Your Condition” and “How Far We've Come” were too good to deny. Mr. Marco/Wood Roses steel guitarist/mandolinist Michael Stover guested, contributing swooping Theremin to a lovely cover of Electric Light Orchestra's “Can't Get You Out of My Head.”

Inside on the Sahm stage, the Fighting Brothers McCarthy also worked in a fairly traditional power pop idiom. Basically the Polite Society with Steve McCarthy's brother Kevin as frontman, the McCarthys were unsurprisingly reminiscent of Kevin's former band Wheel Local 404 – with Kevin's built-for-pop voice fronting the same kind of instantly catchy, rocked-up melodies, how could it not be? The Austin band claimed to be under-rehearsed, but the energy and craft behind “Running in My Sleep,” “Cara” and “Only One You Know” belied that assertion. Power pop fanatics would need a cigarette after a set this good.

Back on the Foley stage, the Austin quintet Youngmond Grand was apparently undergoing a reunion gig. “I promise we're not going to fight onstage,” the singer declared, an utterance that seemed to mean something to the substantial crowd. After an opening number in which the bass cut in and out – a definitely hindrance to music this rhythmic – the group settled into its pop rock rush. Vigorously strummed guitars, hyperactive drumming and emphatic synthesizer bleets pointed the Grand in the direction of the neo new wave, but Clint Myers' raw emotion on tunes like “I Like to Break Guitars” put the band in its own space. Most interesting moment: substituting overlapping conversation for a conventional guitar or synth solo in “Crashing Down.”

A group that included Tinys bassist Matt Cook, Kansas City's Hot Dog Skeletons took the Sahm stage next. The quartet's classic rock-frosted roots rock was solid but indistinct – there was nothing that the Drive-By Truckers or Slobberbone hadn't already done better. The Skeletons' genericism was quickly forgotten in light of the arrival on the Foley stage of Austin's Right or Happy. Essentially the Reivers plus a keyboard player, the band continued in the tradition of its former incarnation. The Reivers' signatures were intact: the distinctive vocal blend of John Croslin and Kim Longacre, Croslin's tasteful lead guitar, the exploration of the various shades of midtempo, adult guitar pop. But there was a subtle musical shift as well, with less of a folk subtext and more of a Beatlesque pop foundation. Sprightly rockers like “Confidence” and “Back at You” were balanced by pretty ballads (the providence of Longacre's quavering but still gorgeous voice) like “Wait and See”, with only one Reivers song (fan favorite “Dragonflies”) added to the mix. The Reivers may be a nostalgia act, but Right or Happy has a bright future.

From one veteran act to another: the Sahm stage next played host to underground rock legend Grant Hart. Though still best known as the drummer/co-leader of the influential Hüsker Dü, Hart has a fine catalog of solo records and work with his band Nova Mob to his credit as well. Working with an impromptu rhythm section of drummer Travis Garrafa from the Service Industry and bassist Tony Zaccardi from Kruddler, Hart seemed loose and relaxed as he worked through selections from his new record Hot Wax (“You're a Reflection of the Moon On the Water,” “California Zephyr”), catalog gems (“2541,” “The Main,” transformed into a country waltz) and Hüsker classics (“Never Talking to You Again,” “Diane”). The performances occasionally displayed the lack of rehearsal, with casual cues and some off-key notes, but the strength of the material, the spirit in the playing and Hart's still powerful voice made quibbles irrelevant.

After a brief glimpse of Mike McCoy's punk rock institution Cher UK (who unfortunately were performing at the same time as Hart), it was time for Grand Champeen, probably the purest distillation of mid-period Replacements – loud, tuneful and barely in control – in Austin. The quartet packed the room in front of the Foley stage with their usual energy-spewing set that somehow managed to be tight and loose at the same time. Pushing catchy pop/rock melodies to the edge until they explode, the Champeens delivered one of the most exciting sets of the festival.

Minnesota asserted itself once again on the Sahm stage in the form of power trio Kruddler. The St. Paul band's mere appearance – a skinny middle-aged white guy with ridiculous pony tails wielding a Flying V and a chubby, dreadlocked African-American bassist – was striking enough, but they backed up the visual element with funny, catchy songs in tribute to Tom Cruise (“Cruisin',”), Natalie from The Facts of Life (“Go Natalie”) and, of course, “Droids.” Other highlights were the sharp power pop of “About Her” and a rousing song “about going to a show and finding a band you like,” guest-starring Channing Lewis from Grand Champeen. One might wish the vocals were stronger, but the songs and playing crackled with cool fire.

Following Kruddler came one of our most anticipated acts: the Pedaljets. In the late 80s the Kansas City quartet put out a couple of excellent, though little known, records that fell under the Midwest ragged-but-right pop/rock banner pioneered by the Minneapolis bands, then disappeared. But the band has launched a comeback, and proved itself more than just a second-tier act with a fiery performance. Fronted by songwriter Mike Allmayer, who looks like Paul Simon's long lost little brother, the band heartily bashed through classics “Dumbwaiter,” “Bulletins” and “Tiny World” to the delight of their KC homeboys and new fans alike. The addition of new tunes like “Terra Nova Baby” served notice that this wasn't just a nostalgia show – the Pedaljets are a still vital band, and a great one at that. Special treat: a cover of the Undertones “Teenage Kicks,” sung by drummer Rob Morrow in his best Feargal Sharkey quaver, with Mike McCoy joining in.

Following that stellar set came another highly anticipated show. Austin's Doctors' Mob have played only one other show since its breakup in the late 80s, and while its members have remained musically active (singer Steve Collier with the Rite Flyers, bassist Tim Swingle with the Daylight Titans, drummer Glen Benavides with Buick MacKane, Don Lamb as a manager at Waterloo Records), few of their projects have inspired the devotion of their original combination. The band's sound fits in the fest's unspoken musical aesthetic well – fans of Grand Champeen, the Pedaljets, etc. likely felt right at home with the Mob's punky power pop rush. But the band's country and folk shadings – very subtle given their high-volume attack – set them apart. The substantial crowd was easily swept up in the memorable melodies and surging power of “Hangers On,” “It's Up to You,” “Time's Up” and “Why Should You Care Now?” The band members themselves seemed to be having a blast – hopefully this was more than just a one-off reunion and signaled a new beginning for a band that broke up too soon.

Next up on the Foley stage was one of the stranger detours of this year's festival. The Austin-based Dung Beatles – the McCarthy Brothers, drummer David Mider and bassist Hunter Darby – have a very specific shtick: playing nearly note-perfect Beatles covers, pre-Sgt. Pepper's, complete with the requisite suits, wigs and instrumentation. The only difference: the lyrics have been altered to revolve around the theme of feces. Thus “A Hard Day's Night” becomes “A Hard Day's Shite,” “From Me to You” transforms into “From Meat to Poo,” etc. There were a couple of truly clever bits, including “I Really Got a Load in Me,” derived the Fab Four's take on the Miracles' “You Really Got a Hold On Me,” and “Poor Ragin' Wood,” a version of “Norwegian Wood” that went beyond the band's obsession with poop. The musicianship was impeccable and the adaptation of some of Lennon's famous quotes into the theme – “I never meant to compare a big shit to Jesus, what I meant was, 'Jesus, what a big shit!'” – was pretty funny. But let's face it: the joke gets old fast. Maybe that's the point.

The final act of the festival was a cross-pollination of North and South, as Minneapolis-to-Austin and back (and forth) transplant Mike Nicolai joined Grand Champeen to form the Bremen Riot. Opening their set by transforming Doug Sahm's “Sunday Sunny Mill Valley Groove Day” into a soulful anthem, the band otherwise tore through a set of punk/power pop/arena rock melodies. There was an pretty odd album contrast to the Champeen boys joyfully rocking out while Nicolai skewered the rock frontman moves that would normally follow such noises, but whatever layer of irony existed was disguised by the energy and tunefulness powering “Growing Down” or “Surveillance.” The band ended the set with a dichotomous one-two punch: another version of “Teenage Kicks” (with McCoy once again putting in an appearance) and a noisy devolution of Lou Reed's “Waves of Fear” that ended with Nicolai rolling on the stage floor and the Champeeners abandoning the field one by one in a squall of feedback. Considering the rock & roll abandon that powered the North Vs. South Festival this year, how else could it end?