(09.24.08) Recommends:

Thoughts Ahead of President Bush's Address to the Nation Regarding Our Current Financial Crisis.

Okay, so we just heard that the President is going to address the country tonight. Obviously he's not known as the most articulate and/or thoughtful president that our nation has ever produced. So who knows what he'll say. But for some reason we now have a particular section from the Andrew Bird song Tables and Chairs stuck in our heads. Can't you just picture an episode of the Simpsons where an animated President Bush addresses a weary nation with the following:

I know we're going to meet some day
In the crumbled financial institutions of this land
There will be tables and chairs
There'll be pony rides and dancing bears
There'll even be a band
Cause listen, after the fall there will be no more countries
No currencies at all, we're gonna live on our wits
We're gonna throw away survival kits,
Trade butterfly-knives for Adderall
And that's not all
Oh, there will be snacks there will
there will be snacks, there will be snacks.

Maybe tonight, when the president begins to speak, we should turn down the volume on him and listen to this song instead.

(09.11.08) Recommends:

Overcast Days.

We don't know what this says about us, but we've always found grey days and rain calming. You don't get much of that here in Southern California. But we've got one of those days today, at least downtown. We feel soothed. It's gonna be a productive day.

Overcast days also recall to our mind the opening credits of the Wilco documentary I Am Trying to Break Your Heart which is, without question, one of the finest opening scenes of any movie, ever.

(08.28.08) Recommends:

Anticipation.

Man, oh, man. Barack Obama's acceptance speech tonight. I can't remember the last time I was this excited/nervous to hear, you know, a speech by a politician. I think the excitement first started building this morning, when I got into the office and fired up Bill Clinton's speech from last night (view it here). I was really saddened and disappointment by his behavior during the primary season, but last night I thought he really came through. Then, the excitement continued to build, as I came across this NY Times piece, which basically says that some Democrats are concerned that Barack, speaking in front of 75,000 tonight, will look too much like a rock star and not somebody with whom we can relate. Note: Democrats have lost the last two presidential elections and they should have won them both. Therefore: I am so over -- and I presume many of you are with me on this -- what Democratic strategists have to say. They should probably just shut up now and listen to Barack.

In closing, I have been listening to the following OK Go cover of The Zombies all morning, and imagine I'll listen to it all afternoon in anticipation of the big speech tonight. You should do the same.



When you're done listening to that, may I suggest that you mind an anniversary by listening to this? Barack's speech is anticipated, but my god, this thing. I still can't get through it without literally crying and shaking. But they are tears and shakes that are needed.

(07.23.08) Recommends:

The Track "Ten Dead Dogs" from Wild Sweet Orange's "We Have Cause To Be Uneasy" (Canvasback Music, forthcoming, July 29, 2008).

As we mentioned in our last update, we haven't been blogging here lately as much as usual, as we've been playing around lots on Twitter and we've been fumbling around on Tumblr -- one anonymous tumblr that if you're savvy enough and/or have too much time on your hands you can find by scrubbing this blog, and another double secret Tumblr that we can tell you right now you'll never, ever discover, so don't even bother asking.

In addition, we've been listening almost exclusively to this WSO track, Ten Dead Dogs. We first saw WSO back in March -- my goodness, has it really been over four months since that show?? -- and about a month ago their full-length debut showed up in our mail boxes.

Let's back up though. When we say we've been listening almost exclusively to this track, we actually mean we've been listening almost exclusively to the first forty-five seconds of this track. As we Twittered earlier, the first :45 might be our favorite music released this year. Not an understatement: on the rare occasions in which we drive to work, our commute takes up to forty five minutes, which means we regularly listen to this part of the song 60 times in a row. But it's not just us who are crazy: we introduced this song to Law School Friend -- one of the few humans whose picture has ever appeared on the blog here, here, here -- during her ridiculous July 4th cookout. Last weekend, when we hung out with her again, she informed us that she had not been able to stop listening to the song. We may or may not be exaggerating when she said she listened to it 45 times consecutively.

While that may sound quaintly amateurish compared to our devotion, it is still a sign, we think, that this song is like E. Coli: some people will come in contact with it and won't notice anything every happened; others will have their bodies completely overtaken for 5-7 days before returning to a normal state; large numbers will die. Okay, probably this song won't kill you, but it will vanquish any chances you have of being productive, because you'll find yourself having to stop to hit the "back" button to start the song over. You'll do this repeatedly -- so you can try to copy his enunciation on "apartment," so you can try to hit the high note on "omen," so you can do that little "buh da doom" part, so you try to match his voice on "I watched the sky turn from blue to black to red and yellow, too," they'll be others, trust us -- until you notice that it's an hour later and all you have to show for it is the sad realization that, despite your best protestations, it probably wasn't lack of time committment to singing in the shower that prevented you from being a rock star.

Okay. Enough talking. On to the music, maestro.

Wild Sweet Orange -- Ten Dead Dogs -- mp3.

(06.29.08) Recommends:

The Petrojvic Blasting Co.

We came across this band in the very best manner one can possibly come across a band. We were out on an early Friday evening, walking around our neighborhood, taking photographs (and taking advantage of another rare warm Los Angeles evening), after celebrating happy hour with a friend. All of a sudden, we hear the distant sound of accordion. So we kick around a few buildings, walking up stairs and peeking around corners until we stumble into the back patio of something called Crane's Hollywood Tavern, where we witnessed players of fiddles, accordions, and the occasional and sundry brass insrument entertaining a crowd gathered for something called The Honeybee Lounge, which is some kind of party that outfits guests with one dollar glasses of beer. No joke, that. It was one of those completely lovely moments destined from birth to be a Friday Evening. Perfection very nearly distilled.








The band is made of two brothers. They appear to be in some sort of negotiations to acquire the fiddle player. We think the fiddle player should acquiesce. Or the brothers should make him an offer he can't refuse. WWTGD? [1] Because this threesome is killer. Yes, we just said killer.

Unfortunately for us, we could only stick around for about an hour. Also unfortunate for us, we know nothing more about this band than what we've gleaned from the band's cryptic website, which is to say, we really don't know much at all. (In defense, we're not sure the website is actually "the band's website"). But we are very hopeful that we'll see these guys playing around town again soon. Yesterday we posted some audio of the show that we recorded. Check it out.







Finally: If anybody reading this knows more about the band, please write in and give us the low-down!


---
[1] Make it work, obvs.

(06.27.08) Recommends:

American Teen.

On Wednesday, we were invited out to see the Los Angeles premiere of the documentary film American Teen, as part of the Los Angeles Film Festival.

A couple notes to set the scene before we discuss the film.

First, as we've mentioned before, as a general rule we've never really been film buffs. But a carve out to this is documentary films. We're more likely to go see a documentary that generates lots of buzz than any other genre of film.

Second, this might be a very obvious point, but Los Angeles knows how to do film festivals. The screening was held at the Ford Ampitheater, nestled in the Hollywood Hills. It's like a miniature Greek Theater (blogged about here). Here's the view as we first entered:




LA is usually stunningly beautiful during the day, but then the temperature drops precipitously at night. However, one of the positive residual effects of the recent LA Heat Wave has been warm summer nights. So the scenery and weather left a big impression for the festival to fill.

Luckily, the fest was up to the task. First, before the screening, Sunny Day Sets Fire (blogged about here and here) performed a set. They have a song that appears in the film. This is probably the biggest crowd they've ever played in front of. They really took advantage of the setting.

Second, they had lots for people to eat and drink. Despite this, we ran into a very talented photographer who bought us a beer. The point of all of this is to say that the crowd was in a very jovial mood.

Finally, and the point of this post, the movie was amazing.

---

The film follows the lives of several high school seniors in Warsaw, Ind.

This sentence, alone, will probably be the root of all criticisms you will read about the film.

First, it will lead to uncontrollable preconceived notions/mental protests from anybody who was college-aged or younger starting in roughly 1992. Will the film, these people will wonder, actually capture the lives of these students, or will the students, trained by years of Real World begets Road Rules begets Survivor begets Laguna Beach begets The Hills and friendster begets myspace begets facebook begets blogger ubiquity use the cameras to push their agendas just like Puck and Pedro used the cameras to promote the rights of booger eaters and AIDS sufferers, respectively, during Real World San Francisco?

This concern, while never completely leaving our mind, was not much of a concern in the end, owing primarily to the fact that Nanette Burstein proves to be an incredibly thoughtful, humane, non-judgmental, talented filmmaker.

The second criticism we anticipate is that the film merely highlights the uselessness and frivolity of the modern American public high school system and the modern American teen; that a generation of complacent kids will cause America to lag behind in the global economic race for ... well, whatever it is, exactly, that we're globally and economically racing for. This, like the Real World Question, we ultimately dismiss because all of the students featured in fact display big ambitions. The ends of the ambitions differ -- getting to college, getting to a college of a particular prestige, getting to a college of a particular geography, becoming less of a nerd and feeling like you fit in, whatever -- but each student shares an equal vigor in reaching those ends.

We don't want to offer too many spoilers to the film; the film is a joy and people should experience it with virgin eyes. So we'll just say that it runs the gamut of emotions:

• At least three times we began crying (including near the end when we had to do that guy thing of quickly, but discreetly, rubbing our eyes in an attempt to dry them before the lights came up -- "we're cool, we're cool, good movie, should we head out now, wanna grab another beer, we're cool, really, stop looking at us," etc. etc.).

• At least a half dozen times we burst into laughter, literal bursts such that we had to check the person sitting in front of us to see if we had spit on them.

• We cringed out of embarrassment at the behavior of both parent and child.

• We sighed heavily out of righteous indignation at the obnoxiousness of both parent and child.

• Our hearts burst with optimism for the future when we saw a picture of the Golden Gate Bridge.

The crowd on Wednesday -- the "jaded hollywood set" -- was as animated as any movie crowd we've ever experienced. And this movie will certainly play well in the Midwest -- it's filmed there, and as midwesterns we saw a lot of our high school selves in the picture. We fully expect this film to be the break out star of the late-summer movie season.

(06.26.08) Recommends:

Without Words.

The latest from Andrew Bird in the NYTimes Measure for Measure blog.

(06.25.08) Recommends:

Five Thoughts That Randomly Occurred To Us Throughout Last Night's Alison Krauss/Robert Plant Concert at the Greek Theater in Los Angeles, Calif.

01. The Greek Theater has to be one of the most perfect concert venues in the country.




We generally prefer to see our shows in small dark bars or clubs. However, if we must go to a bigger venue, there are few that we'd rather go to than the Greek Theater. It's almost completely surrounded by the trees of Griffith Park and somehow maintains acoustics that sound as good as any venue you'll go to.


02. The reports of the music industry's death are greatly exaggerated.

One hundred and twenty five bucks. That would have been the number to say if you were on The Price Is Right and were asked to name the retail value of our seats. These were not even the most expensive seats. And all these seats were taken. I'll see your p2p network and raise you $36mm in ticket sales.

03. Quiet ubiquity.




Alison Krauss is everywhere. She's had her hand in dozens and dozens of records. She's won 21 -- twenty one! -- Grammy Awards (though we like to think none of these were quite as satisfying to her as being crowned Old Time Fiddle Champion at the 1984 Winfield (KS) Bluegrass Festival). She might be the most influential modern figure in bluegrass with her contributions to soundtracks to Oh Brother Where Art Thou? and Cold Mountain. Yet you never really "hear" about Alison Krauss, yaknow? As far as we can tell she does not get DUIs or spend time in rehab or jail. When you hear about her in LA it's because she's coming through town after convincing one of the Biggest Badasses in the History of Rock Music to put out a countryish-folkish record. And people will pay big bucks to see her. 100 years from now people will still be considering Alison Krauss's music. We think there might be a lesson in there for member's of today's (quasi, pseudo, or otherwise) entertaining class.


04. Greek Theater + Alison Krauss + Robert Plant turns Ostensibly Reasonable and Professional Adults into Texting Schoolgirls/Fanboys/Ninnies.

US: 8:38pm: god i love this venue!

THEM: 10:00pm: last song chills.




US: 10:01pm: goose bumps. omgomgomgomg.



THEM: 10:06pm: holy shit.




US: 10:47pm: omg.




THEM: 10:49pm: such an amazing show.




05. Could a reunion be better than this?



At the end of 2007/beginning of 2008 there was lots of chatter -- plus a reported $200mm offer to Plant -- about a LedZep "reunion." But we're not sure whether such a thing could make, say, Black Country Woman, sound as vital and alive as did upright basses and mandolins and fiddles and Alison Krauss.

(06.24.08) Recommends:

Forest Fire, Survival (Catbird Records, 2008).

This record might be one of the more interesting things to happen to country music since Uncle Tupelo gave the world No Depression in 1990. Which means, of course, that the record isn't really even country. It's more like sparse, low-fi, rock music that has enough space in it to come off as a bit haunting. The owner of Catbird Records -- which, if you haven't figured out already, has, over the past few years, developed into one of the most interesting record labels we have -- calls it "homegrown hymns for those with no religion." It's absurd to evoke names such as the Rolling Stones, the Velvet Underground, the Replacements, or even Uncle Tupleo, on a band's first full length album. But at various points all of these bands put out songs that could be called sparse, low-fi homegrown hymns for those with no religion. And at first listen, you're going to hear all of those bands. And that's why we're forced to start this recommendation with the sentence we do.

What's also pretty cool about this record is that Catbird Records is using the "Radiohead Model" by giving consumers options: listen to it as a free stream, a free download, or buy it for whatever price you'd like. (Of course the main difference between this and Radiohead is that Forest Fire does not suck[1].) Go here to make your choice.

So there you have it. Go give this music a listen. It's without doubt one of the year's best releases.



--
[1] (rant) Seriously, people. Isn't it about time we have a wholesale reconsideration of Radiohead? They have to be the most overrated band of our lifetime. Seriously. Every song is several minutes too long, with the same incomprehensible warbling vocals and monotonous computer-generated wall of noise. Now, don't get us wrong. We're not anti-lyrics-that-don't-make-sense, or anti-long-songs. In fact, we've surely been to more Phish concerts than you, and we really enjoyed almost all of them. We get that that type of music can be transcendant.

But here's the thing. Radiohead's music isn't transcendant as much as mostly just annoying.

We think Radiohead fans probably fit into two categories: (1) the group that just doesn't know any better; and (2) the group that was unduly influenced at an early age.

If you are a die-hard Radiohead fan in the former group, we have a challenge for you. We have hours and hours of live Phish shows on tape (hah!) and CD. And we're pretty sure we could make you a 45 minute mix (the length of one side of a 90 minute Maxell XL-II tape, for the old school tape traders in the audience) of live Phish that will make you realize that, on the one hand, "jammy" music can be incredible and, on the other, Radiohead puts out almost uniformly boring music. We certainly understand it's a band's perogative to put out boring music, we are just perplexed by all the Radiohead worship, and after our challenge we're sure you will be too.

What's more concerning to us are die-hard Radiohead fans in the latter group. These people are like the 13-year old who starts smoking cigarettes because he wants to impress the seemingly cool 14-year old of the group. And by the time the 13-year old realizes smoking was not cool, he is either too hooked to do anything about it, or has died of lung cancer. Since we do not wish death upon any music fan, all we are left with is to say that that smoking is not cool and the 14-year old was not cool (didn't you ever stop to think that maybe if he was so cool he would have been able to find friends his own age??) and Radiohead is not cool. (/rant)

(06.20.08) Recommends:

A Cure For Getting Out Of Your Head The Song You Woke Up With In Your Head.

So. It's Friday. And you woke up with a song in your head. You hummed it as you were hitting the snooze button. You hummed it as you ate a donut for breakfast. You hummed it as you worked your way through, what your undergraduate hallmate called the 3S's. You hummed it on your commute into work. Under normal circumstances, to get the song cycled through your head -- thus making room for its inevitable next obsession -- you would simply listen to the song, on repeat, all day. But the problem is, the particular version of the particular song you woke up with in your head was only unofficially released as part of the officially released outtakes of a documentary made about the band. And lugging the DVD to work and finding the particular clip and then creating some kind of loop to satisfy your need to hear the song continuously, all day long, seems too daunting a task. So what is a person to do? How, you're wondering, do you get the song out of your head?

Before the internet, we're not sure there was an easy answer. But now, you just find the clip on youtube. And listen to the song for the next 10-12 hours. And, of course, apologize in advance to all co-workers for subjecting them to this song, on repeat, all day long. But. It just has to be one of those days today.

Wilco -- How to Fight Loneliness -- youtube.

(06.09.08) Recommends:

The track "Le petit Succes" by Olivier Libaux presents Imbecile.

Indie 103 has a Saturday morning show called Passport Approved that plays music from all over the globe. The songs can be very hit or miss, but they played this song -- it's a band from France, and that's just about all that we can figure out about this band/song -- last Saturday and it's a god damn home run. The only problem is that we can find neither an mp3 of it, nor a place where more than 30 seconds of it is streamed (here), anywhere on the internet. Additionally, we'd be willing to buy the entire album for the song (rememeber when this was, like, people's only option??), but we cannot even find a place that reliably sells the album. It's as if this song came to us in a dream and disappeared when we woke up. But the song has been dancing around our head all weekend. So we thought we'd blog about it in the hope that some kind soul will google the song and/or band and will pass along the track to us.

(05.29.08) Recommends:

The Los Angeles Return of Beirut.

Oh, Zach Condon. What more can we possibly say about him? He released music in 2006 and it was among our favorite music of that year. He released some more music in 2007 and it was among our favorite music of that year.

He's an interesting artist for many reasons, but one of the things that strikes us is this. If you read this blog because you're really into music, you're familiar with Beirut. If you read this blog simply because you know us, you're probably not familiar with Beirut. And if you get out from beyond your computers right now and ask the first five people you come across if they know of Beirut, after clarifying that you're talking about the band, we can almost guarantee that you'll be meet with blank stares. So here's what's awesome. Last time Beirut came through Los Angeles -- October '07 -- they played two shows at the Avalon (the first of which we know for sure was sold out). The Avalon is not the Hollywood Bowl, but it easily fits in excess of 1,000 people. It's quite impressive playing, let alone selling out, a venue that size while being a band that is in large measure obscure.

And not only did Beirut sell out the Avalon. The crowd was as attentive as any crowd we've ever seen. Hanging on his every word. Singing along to every word. And at the time of these shows Beirut's second full length album had been officially released less than a week, yet we overheard at least two people claim various songs on the album were their favorite songs of all time. And we don't think this was simply hipster hyperbole. Zach Condon has an effect on people that is true and pure and above all else real. (As an example, after the show, we went home and were inspired to start goofing around with our camera. We took a picture of the concert ticket and within thirty minutes had created what has turned out to be easily one of this blog's most viewed posts).

People of our generation, we're the Mtv generation. We've been advertised to our entire lives. Since our earliest years, we've been sold soda and shoes and lifestyles and dreams. It's become hard to tell the difference between what we really think and believe and feel and what we're told we're supposed to think and believe and feel. It seems that every time we stumble upon something authentic and different, in come the marketers to repackage it and sell it on a mass scale. It's enough to make one crazy. Unfortunately, cynical, we think, is what it's made most of us. There's a sense of sadness that pervades our generation because we desperately seek things real -- real emotions, real connections, whatever -- but too often feel we are left with the manufactured, facsimiles. We want to know that the emotions that we experience are the emotions we actually have, and not the emotions that marketers and advertisers and media executives are feeding us.

And into this vast space steps Zach Condon. He is real and pure and haunting and haunted and seems like he arrived in our speakers straight out of a novel. People are responding, we suppose, because they fear this moment is fleeting. That Zach Condon will one day just up and vanish. Well, for now Beirut is back for two shows. This time at the Wiltern. The band is still pretty obscure. But that hasn't stopped them from already selling out the Friday show.

If you sometimes feel overwhelmed with the cynical and the snarky and the snide and the sarcastic, we really recommend going to one of these shows. We guarantee they will be life affirming. And that's a good thing.

Beirut -- various tracks -- streaming audio.

(05.21.08) Recommends:

Karma Police.

Question: What do you get for inventing bands like Backstreet Boys and 'N Sync?

Answer: Why, 25 years in prision, natch.

(05.13.08) Recommends:

The track "We're From Barcelona" by the band I'm From Barcelona.

Okay, since last Thursday we have had this stuck in our head for the first time since late-'06/early-'07. Here is the tale.

Part 1. We were living in Northern California when this song was first released, back in 2006. By January 2007 we were dating a girl who lived in San Francisco. She did not just live in San Francisco though, no no, she lived on California Street at the peak of Nob Hill. Now, anybody who has spent any time in San Francisco on California Street at the peak of Nob Hill understands that this area offers some of the most breathtaking views of anywhere in the United States.

Part 2. At the time, we were also living the Student Life, and sometimes -- in particular Friday's, when we had no classes and could go roam around freely -- the Student Life is the Best Life Their Is.

Part 3. So on many of these Friday afternoons in January 2007, we'd find ourselves driving up to San Francisco to spend the weekend with said girlfriend. And we burned a CD that featured only this song -- anybody who reads this blog with any regularity knows that when we get a song on the brain, we will listen to nothing else until we've completely mastered the song -- so we would be driving windows rolled down radio cranked up, slowly enveloped by the smell of the Bay and breathtaking views and this song. Intoxicated with life. We would shout the lyrics at the top of our lungs -- the band is, a bit confusingly given the name, from Sweden and even though we think the song is mostly in English, the only part we knew we were getting right was the "la-la-la-la-laaaaa la-la-la-laaaa lalalalaaaaaa." [1]

Part 4. When this relationship ended -- which is the terminus of all relationships that are predicated almost entirely upon the stunning vistas afforded by the significant others' neighborhood (yes, yes, we're horrible people for saying this, but let this be a Lesson For Us All) -- this single song CD got shoved to the bottom of the CD pile/got lost somewhere amid all the crap in the backseat/trunk/under the drivers or passengers seat of our car. One of the two. It's been a long time since we've seen the CD so it's location, really, could be anywhere at this point.

Part 5. But the song made an unexpected reprise in our lives at the Ben Solee show on Thursday. It was played over the speakers between Ben's sound check and the beginning of his set proper. The show was great, but now we're retroactively wondering if having this song as a lead-off didn't put us in a particularly sentimental mood. And since that show, the catchy song has lodged its way back into our brain. We've literally been whistling it in the shower. Whistling it on the metro to work. Whistling it in the office. If we're feeling particularly giddy -- and we're sure nobody is within earshoot of us -- we've even been belting out the old "la-la-la-la-laaaa la-la-la-la-laaaaa lalalalaaaa" line. Then, last night while taking the metro home, we got a deep-seated urge for edamame. So we stopped into our neighborhood crap sushi joint (a place so crappy that we refuse to even recognize it by name it in this space) for a pre-dinner snack. And what instantly popped up on the speakers as we sat down? Why, "We're From Barcelona." So we figured that the gods, in addition to being crazy, must want us to blog about this song.

Part 6 . So here we are. Blogging about the song. We really hope everybody will click on the mp3 below and give the song a try. It really is one of the most catchy, whistleable, damn near perfect pop songs crafted in the last twenty fives years.



I'm From Barcelona -- We're From Barcelona -- mp3.


---
[1] A little known fact is that many school children in Sweden actually speak French. So, if our recollection of high school French is correct, this lyric, translated from the original French means roughly "the-the-the-theeeeee the the the theeeeeee thethethetheeeee."

(05.12.08) Recommends:

Cheap Thrills.

This is Andrew Bird's latest installment in the Measure for Measure blog.

(More info here and here).

(05.09.08) Recommends:

Ben Sollee.

So we just received an email about this gentleman earlier in the week. The email basically said: this dude is kinda like Andrew Bird and he's playing an early show at the Silverlake Lounge on Thursday and you like both Andrew Bird and early shows at the Silverlake Lounge so go check this out already. And so we went and checked it out.

Ben Sollee is 24 and plays the cello. He is a bit like Andrew Bird, we suppose. He's also a bit New Grassy, and jazzy. Here's the thing. We spend lots of time consuming obscure-to-somewhat-obscure media. And then we come here and make recommendations. Often very enthusiastically. We do this despite our knowledge that many people will never act on the recommendations, or click though to the linnks we present (sad, true, but we understand that everybody is under a constant delgue of stuff that must be done, so we understand sometimes people just do not/cannot take the time to take chances with culture), and that which we recommend might not find an audience as big as we believe it deserves.

But this recommendation is different. As a general rule, solo cellists do not perform at the Silverlake Lounge to the rapt attention of a roomful of hipsters. But here's the thing. He also plays in Sparrow Quartet, a band that also includes Bela Fleck (the offical banjo hero of this blog), so he'll play to the rapt attention of the bluegrass festival circuit this summer. We could see him catching on big with the Dave Matthews Band crowd.

He reminds us a bit of someone like Andrew Bird, or someone like Zach Condon of Beirut in that he is obviously inspired by a force that touches few people. Most young people do not wake up and say "I want to be a cello player. I want to fuse jazz and bluegrass and rock. And I want to do it in front of both small rooms in Silverlake and large fields of the Rockies." But -- and god bless him for this -- Ben Sollee does walk around with thoughts like these in his head. And that's why we're convinced that he is very needed. Because society is better for people who think these strange, but captivating, thoughts.

Endnote: For people in LA, Ben is opening for Tapes 'n Tapes tonight at the Troubadour.

Ben Solle @ myspace.
Ben Sollee featured on NPR.

(04.28.08) Recommends:

Ending The Democratic Nominating Process.

Seriously, is there anybody out there who isn't completely fed up with this thing at this point? Look, we're all for having robust debate, and allowing the candidates to duke it out so the strongest survives. Etc, etc. But we haven't learned anything new about either candidate in months. There is this constant back-and-forth about...what? We don't know. It's ridiculous. We're starting to lose interest in both candidates and it's not even May. Having robust debate is one thing, but starting the "process" as early as it was started this season ends up giving people an entire year to forget why they wanted a Democrat in the White House in the first place. At the end of the day, it's not about Hillary Clinton or Barack Obama, as inspiring as they both can be. The Democrats are going to win because the country wants Regime Change. It wants Something Different. But my god -- Clinton and Obama and trying their best to give this thing away.

Somewhere in the Bush, a Gore-ian tale lurks. We hope Clinton and Obama are paying attention.



Sunset Rubdown -- They Took A Vote And Said No -- streaming audio.

(04.27.08) Recommends:

Karaoke.

This has been a month that's tested our mettle -- both professionally and personally. So when our Law School Friend (hereinafter referred to as "LSF") asked if we wanted to partake in a night of K-Town revelry, we knew the perfect antidote to mettle-testing was at our fingertips. That's right: a night of mutha-effing karaoke!

After chowing down on some Korean BBQ, it was off to find, in the parlance of K-Town, a Noraebang.

First up was Bliss.



This place immediately caught our attention because it was a cafe, bar, and music studio. We appreciate that K-Town refers to its karaoke joints as "music studios" because it does lend the whole affair with some much needed legitimacy. No, no, we're not going to imbibe enough liquid courage such that we get up and butcher some classic Billy Joel tunes. Of course not, silly. We're going into a music studio. To record some hit songs. It'll be much like USA For Africa. We're doing it for the kids, natch.

It turns out that Bliss was desperately trying to be fancy pants.

It had all sorts of glamorous signs.



And required patrons to walk above a Japanese restaurant.



And it wasn't just any stairway above a Japanese restaurant. It was a blue-lit tunnel which, there's no other explanation really, must have been inspired by the entrance to Space Mountain.



While we put our name into the karaoke room waiting list, LSF tried to get all serious by pumping herself up by flexing some Karaoke Face.




LSF couldn't hold such a serious pose for very long, unfortunately. Do we have a Karaoke Novice on our hands?




We quickly grew disillusioned by the monstrous karaoke line at Bliss, so we decided to hit the streets and see what else we could find.

We were hopeful that Ob's Cabin could dish out some karaoke (or perhaps some other kind of) delight, but nobody else in the group was willing to stop in.



After some more wandering, we came across Key Center and we figured, with ten store fronts, our odds were pretty good and that one of them would have to offer karaoke.



First up was Gaam.



What do you get when you take a Friday, then add some Upscale Asian Cuisine, and throw in Yakidori (whatever that is) and Sake and then subtract from the equation any presence of karaoke? You get this.



A restaurant with a lone white person taking a picture from the outside looking in. A very strange inversion of the usual Asian Tourists Taking Pictures scenario to be sure, and a bitter lesson to all places in K-Town that don't have karaoke (this part of the blog entry was a joke, for the culturally sophisticated/sensitive among you).

After all this hoofing around looking for some karaoke, we made the group take a breather and grab...



Some donuts. Eat 'em if you got 'em boys.

After the much needed D Break, we stumbled into our second karaoke attempt, a little jam called Young Dong Music Studio.



Unfortunately, like Bliss, Young Dong was just not meant to be. Not sure if it was because the place didn't serve alcohol (of course we do karaoke because we're inspired by the spirit of the music, but come on, we're only human here; we need like one or two other spirits before we're completely convinced we can do this. And anyway, it's a music studio so you have to be completely convinced that you can do it, because there are thousands of other people out there who would literally kill for your spot in the music studio in hopes of becoming America's next singing idol.)

Not sure if it was because 3605 1/2 would not serve us the alcohol that Long Young Dong wouldn't let us sneak in.


Not sure if it was because these two gentlemen -- yes, the two in the background with the Thinly Trimmed Mustaches -- were not having whatever joke we were serving (it should be noted that LSF, too, appears to want nothing to do with the joke).



Not sure if it was because when we asked this girl if we could take her picture she promptly turned around and said something that sounded like "GoawayI'mcallingthecopsnow!"



Whatever it was, our time at Young Dong Music Studio did not last long.

But just when we thought everything was lost, boo-effing-ya: Chapman Karaoke.


Errr, Chapman Karaoke with Accompanying Sundry Store to the Left.




We walked right in, got our own room, made sure we were properly hydrated, and got our karaoke on.



The group wasted no time getting into the karaoke rhythm, displaying the somewhat hard-to-pull-off Standing Karaoke Stance merely one song in.



Can I get a witness...


...there's your witness





It's real. Your faith.




Then it was the ladies' turn.



Can you take it a little higher for us?


A little more?




Final high note leads to The Karaoke Crash.




Duet time.



They're either defending the honor of their families. Or belting out some Jon Bon Jovi. We're guessing a little JBJ.


Peas in a karaoke pod.

(04.13.08) Recommends:

The LA64.
#52: Largo.
432 N. Fairfax.

(explanation of series here.)



The theme of yesterday was Homecomings. We started the day blogging about the topic, and ended the day with one at Largo.

First, a little about Largo. It's more dinner theater than rock venue. It has a tiny stage and a room with tables to fit about 100. In addition, there is a bar that fits another probably 10 people. The shows are very intimate, in part because the place is tiny, in part because the venue has strict anti-talking policies, and in part because artists come to Largo to push their boundaries and experiment in front of polite and well-versed audiences. The club is perhaps most known for its Friday night Jon Brion residency. Brion has used the Largo stage to introduce to larger audiences the likes of Aimee Mann, Fiona Apple, Elliott Smith, and Rhett Miller.

Which brings us to last night. Rhett Miller is a long-time blog favorite. Here's a old post/ode to the Old 97s that sums up most of our feelings toward Rhett and the Old 97s. We had heard whispers that Largo was closing this month [1]. We had also heard that Largo had called home old favorite Rhett Miller to put on two solo shows before the club closed. Finally, we heard that the set of shows was to be recorded and released as an album; Rhett's personal tribute to his years at Largo. With these facts and rumors in front of us, we headed out to Largo.

Table reservations at Largo usually sell out quickly. So your only hope is to show up and try to get a coveted bar stool spot. With doors set to open at 8:30, we rolled up at 8 and had no problem getting in.


In addition to music, Largo plays an important role in the Los Angeles comedy world. As such, many shows feature both comedy and music. Last night was no exception, as the comedy warm up act turned into something of a Rhett Miller roast. The room was really buzzing with excitement for the show -- probably nobody more so than Rhett.



This night was clearly important to him: his wife was in the audience, he played some of his all time favorite songs that will appear on the live record (off the top of our head we remember covers of Elvis Presley, Bob Dylan, The Kinks, The Ramones, The Pixies, Tom Petty, Simon and Garfunkel, Pete Seeger), and he appeared to get a little misty eyed at times regaling the audience with old war stories both of Largo and of recording sessions in general, including a pretty funny one about a time Waylon Jennings recorded "Old Brown Shoe" with the Old 97s, which led to Rhett playing an awesome version in which he'd start off doing his best Waylon Jennings voice and then would flawlessly and effortlessly segue into full-on Rhett cowpunk glory.



It was a classic Rhett show. We've stopped trying to figure out why he's not one of the biggest rock stars on the planet. We just go and enjoy the shows now, unencumbered by what-ifs and why-nots. And last night, my oh my, it was special. There are few things we enjoy more than seeing great artists channeling their talents in intimate spaces, but when it's Rhett Miller on a night that was so obviously important to him -- well, that makes for a show that we'll remember for a long, long time.





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[1] Largo as it as now known is, in fact, closing. However, the owners are opening a larger (and therefore presumably less intimate) space on La Cienega.