Wow.

This is pretty damn attractive.

Well, I guess the pictures are working again.

p.s. To all us not in Austin for SXSW XX, we're all suckers. Live it up, jerks.

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Weekend Of Tough Decisions

Note: This was written Monday evening and I know it seems a bit daft to be recalling the weekend on a Wednesday but Blogger has been having maintenance issues and I still can't upload the pics I want. So here it is sans pics, and when I get it this damn thing to work, I'll throw them up there.

Note (3/16/06, 9:31pm): Pics are up, busters.

Err. One Tough decision.


Joggers one tough decision was which sax to rip shit up with.

Saturday night I told Joggers bassist Darrell Bourque that I don't take any decision lightly. If anything, I take every decision too heavily. Yes, it is well documented that I am suffer from chronic indecisiveness. So in the confines of a cramped Bottom of the Hill, I had to decide, do I buy a Joggers shirt (American Apparel, I'll have you know) or buy approximately 3.75 more PBRs? Having already had 2.75 PBRs at the venue, I opted on the shirt for three reasons. First, Bourque mentioned that he would understand if I chose to go with more beer (to which I noted that if he started putting the cost of the shirt in units of beer, he would lose) which is admirable. Secondly, Joggers brought it harder than I could have imagined. Voxtrot is alright but I'd never want them to have my back in a brawl (and Kiss Me Deadly was fairly insufferable, it was either the Oops! I Did It Again red spacesuit or the fact that they were from Montreal and not absolutely mindblowing). Seriously, can we get these Jogger fellas a headlining gig around these parts?

Friday was slightly less brain-wracking. The Pink Mountaintops almost surpassed the high bar set from the last time I saw Black Mountain. But trust me, that's pretty fucking high. Steve McBean and Co. effortlessly cruised through a weird mix of songs, vintage McBean and a good amount of cuts from their new full length Axis of Evol. Mcbean was as beard-y as ever. That's a surefire sign that there's some rock going on and/or your recycling is being rifled through.


McBean: Officially changed his name to Beardy McNoshowers.

Then the end of the weekend belonged to the fresh faced popsters The Spinto Band. They were crashing at Mary B's place for the weekend in preparation to start their tour with The Arctic Monkeys. They are the anti-McBean, but just as endearing, if not more. After an afternoon show at Amoeba in which they acoustically quirkified their hits from Nice and Nicely Done and shot out Berkley for her hospitality, they absolutely blew up Cafe Du Nord and shot out Rosenberg for lending them his amp. All I could think: I'm famous by association. I met a few of them when Berkley started teasing me for being shy, and they seemed like really good dudes. Minipop was along for the bubblegummed ride, and I found myself trudging home at 1:30am with a serious craving for a slice of Mythic Pizza and a Squirt (unsuccessful) and a long listen to ELO's Out of the Blue (very successful). And when I finally hit the hay at around 3am, all I could think about is how my life would have been different if I had chosen the 3.75 pints of room temperature swill beer. No regrets, great weekend.


Spintos: Least threatening dudes out there, even more than my sissy crew.

Joggers: http://thejoggers.com
Voxtrot: http://www.voxtrot.net
The Pink Mountaintops: http://www.jerkwithabomb.com
The Spinto Band: http://www.crackerbox.net/audio/spintoband/

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The Gods Must Be Crazy: Song of the Day

Kelley Stoltz "Ever Thought of Coming Back" from Below the Branches (Sub Pop)

This has nothing to do with coke bottles or skinny African dudes (or does it...) but seriously, what is up with the weather? Yesterday, I began writing this blog about rainy days only to have my computer crash, my laziness reset in and the sun come shining through. Not that I'm complaining. I love rain, let me tell you. But walking home after a few beers and shots in some torrential downpour weak horseshit kinda blows. If I wanted to take a shower in my clothes, I would have taken ecstasy when I was 18. That doesn't really make sense. And shit, it's raining again. However immaculate the sleep has been, the wetness has really been messing with my vibe. I'm a self-admitted "mood music" person. Heartbroken? I listen to sad music. Going out to drink? I listen to upbeat music. Just ate a whole pizza by myself? I listen to the Pixies (Hey-oh!). So while I've had an influx of great rainy day tunes fall into my lap recently (the mindblowing swan song that is Grandaddy's Just Like The Fambly Cat), I've been mixed up and obsessed with two songs of late: Sparks' "This Town ain't Big Enough for the Both of Us" and Kelley Stoltz's "Ever Thought of Coming Back". While Sparks is pretty much gold in any situation, with the exception of while walking in "torrential downpour weak horseshit", Stoltz's sunny concoction has got me turned upside down.

I had never really been that big a fan of Stoltz's. I have 2003's Antique Glow and didn't think much of it. It didn't blow my mind. But I read a great article about his obsession with Echo and the Bunnymen (and found out he recorded a cover album of Crockodials) and realized he's just a dude who loves music. And I thought, "Wait. I'm a dude who likes music." So when Jeremiah shoved his headphones on my ears a little more than a month ago, and I heard Stoltz's "Ever Thought of Coming Back" I was hooked. I saw him that same week at Amoeba, and he gave a very Keanu Reeves impression. Not a slick vapid Neo impression, or a unslick vapid Ted "Theodore" Logan impression but hippie dentist from Thumbsucker good-hearted vibe. And my only thought was "dudes loving music."

"Ever Thought of Coming Back" is not an homage to the Beach Boys. It's not a rip-off either. It is the Beach Boys. The echoey pop of the snare, the ooh-oohs, the ah-ahs, the surfy riffage in the end and of course, the unbelieveable hooks, there's no possible way Brian Wilson didn't have his hand in it. It's as if Wilson had transcdended into some higher form of being where he only communicates through his well chosen disciples.

What else is there to say? The song is seared into my brain. It briefly pushed "The Final Countdown" out (surely, it'll make a reappearance). Though I don 't know the lyrics yet, I have been humming the tune under my breath to myself and going up to friends and saying "dude, there's this dude who sounds like the Beach Boys" and proceeding to ooh and ahh. I don't think it has the same effect. So as the storm persists at washing the streets, I will continue to rock "Ever Thought of Coming Back" until it's dead. Of course, if you sound like The Beach Boys, your sound is timeless. So I might as well just wait until it gets sunny again, and with my Kris Krossed backwards approach, I should be embracing Black Heart Procession's The Spell with the first hint of clean spring sun.

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