172 posts tagged “hcoiro (dc)”

Velvet Goldmine is not a great movie. It does, however, have a great soundtrack featuring a nice mix of glam-rock era originals, covers, and pastiches.  I especially like the songs written for the film by Shudder to Think - partially because they're only barely more ridiculous than "Ziggy Stardust" and partially because I've now fulfilled my Rocktober quota for bands from the District of Columbia.

It can get annoying sometimes being friends with a bunch of post-ironic hipsters.  For example, a month ago a group of us were in Virginia Beach for the Rock and Roll Half Marathon.  The way the Rock and Roll Half Marathon works is like this: every mile or so, there's a Jimmy Buffett cover band or some other local nobody along the side of the course playing music to keep you going as you run more than anybody should.  And then later in the evening, after everyone has recovered, there's a real concert with a real band on the beach.  This year's headlining act was the Black Crowes.  Yeah, those Black Crowes.  Not too shabby, huh?

So we're all milling around the house in a post-race stupor and somebody asks if we're going to venture back for the concert that evening.  The sneering is immediately obvious.  "For the Black Crowes?"  "Are you kidding?"  Somebody glances at me and I offer my opinion: "Oh, come on.  You know I only go to shows when I can gaze at my shoes."  Then I glance around the room shiftily.  Eventually somebody, probably Potsy, suggests that the show will be really crowded and inconvenient - as if that would have stopped us from going to see, oh I don't know, Vampire Weekend.

I mean, yeah, I haven't listened to The Southern Harmony and Musical Companion in about fifteen years, but let's not overthink this one, okay?  I downloaded it from iTunes the other day and totally listened most of the way through.  And I can definitely say almost without reservation that this rocks a whole lot more that some overly precious song about punctuation.  You know I wouldn't lie.  I always tell the truth.

Last night I headed to the Black Cat for a second consecutive evening.  I needed to exorcise the demons of Wednesday night's debacle, and fortunately the Thursday night headliner was both energetic and talented.

Rhett Miller called his backing band the Serial Lady Killers.  The last time I saw them, they were the Believers, but it was the same band.  And I had the same mixed feelings both times.  I've got no qualms about a solo acoustic Rhett show, but it's strange seeing a band that's not the Old 97's performing Old 97's songs.  It's kind of like going out and running into a friend who's cheating on their significant other.  (I guess.  That's never actually happened to me.)  On the other hand, it's always preferable to be at the Black Cat instead of the 9:30 Club, and it's never as crowded as an Old 97's show.  And Rhett is not so deluded to think that we're there to hear only the solo material.

And, as I learned last night, he plays songs that the rest of the band doesn't want to play.  It hadn't occurred to me that I hadn't seen the Old 97's play "Nineteen" in a while, but I guess that's one they don't want to do.  My favorite Rhett Miller solo song is an Old 97's outtake that he rerecorded for his second record.  I always wondered why it never made it onto an Old 97's release.  But I guess if the band isn't interested in performing "Nineteen" any more, they probably also aren't interested in performing the song written as a response.  I knew going into the show he wouldn't be playing this.  It's a duet, and Rachael Yamagata isn't a Serial Lady Killer.

I don't know what I was thinking.  I let Dabysan talk me into going to see this band Matt and Kim at the Black Cat tonight.  Matt and Kim, to refresh your memory, are the band that Daby discovered from a Bacardi commercial.  And while I don't necessarily object on principle to bands selling their songs, I probably should have been a little more wary in this case.  This was one of the worst shows I've ever seen.  Matt and Kim were bad - Kings of Leon bad, Counting Crows bad, New Pornographers bad.  In fact, the New Pornographers are a pretty good point of reference because Matt and Kim sucked in the exact opposite way.

The problem with the New Pornographers' show was that every member of the band was an accomplished musician who couldn't be bothered to care about playing their music in the live performance.  I will say this for Matt and Kim: at no time did it occur to me that they were phoning it in.  It just would have been nice if they had bothered to learn how to play their instruments.  They're literally the least talented band I have ever seen headlining a show.  Here's how every single Matt and Kim song goes.  Kim bangs out a rudimentary 4/4 time beat (only on the quarter note, natch) while Matt noodles Hot Cross Buns melodies on a Casio.  Sometimes, he barks out profound lyrics like "Yeah!  Yeah!  Yeah!"  The rest of the time he doesn't sing anything at all.  They don't play anything that you couldn't train a chimp to play, but at least the songs are short.

I'll admit I initially cracked a smile when they launched into a "cover" of Europe's "The Final Countdown," but ultimately this song pissed me off more than any other.  It was post-ironic hipsterism at its worst.  They played only the intro riff (over and over) and sang no lyrics.  It lasted sixty seconds, at best.  It was a song fragment and I'm supposed to nod and wink knowingly because the original is so hopelessly uncool.  Or maybe because I, too, have watched Arrested Development.  I'm not entirely sure.  What I am sure of, however, is that their failure to even attempt to play the song is more than just lazy, it's insulting.  Matt and Kim stood on the stage of the Black Cat for about an hour and told me with every pedestrian note that developing some level of competence with their instruments beyond that required to win the third-grade talent show was something with which they couldn't be bothered.  I've never seen a band with more contempt for its audience.  Actually, now that I think more about it, they're not the opposite of the New Pornographers at all.

Well, lookee here: we made the [music is good] page.  Again.  This time it was for our insightful commentary on Weezer and the Replacements' legacy in the annals of rock history.  We're surprised - not to mention honored and flattered - to be featured by the good people at Vox so soon after our last fleeting moment in the sun.  But then, we can hardly blame them for recognizing greatness when they see it.  We should totally become, like, a professional blogger or something.

I was late to the Weezer bandwagon.  Way late.  Like, 2009 late.  Sure, I'd heard the requisite cuts off the Blue Album, and "Say It Ain't So" was a staple of the rotation when the Mighty Roy and I put a twenty into the jukebox at Bardo Rodeo to commandeer it for the evening way back in '96.  But I didn't actually buy the Blue Album until a couple of years ago.  And my second purchase was earlier this year, when I decided I should finally give Pinkerton a listen.  On M-----l's suggestion, I picked up the Green Album within the past couple of weeks.  Those are the only records of theirs I own.

I think I owe it to myself, though, to fill out the Weezer section in my collection.  The first single from their forthcoming record (the awesomely titled Raditude) hit the internets this week.  I've listened to it about a hundred times since Tuesday.  It's the most infectious piece of bubble-gum pop/rock I've heard since....  I don't know what.

My favorite thing about Weezer - the reason I need the four records I don't already own - is that unlike virtually every other band in existence, they've become less serious and self-important as they get older.  I mean, Rivers Coumo is pushing forty now, and he's singing about watching Titanic with his girlfriend and meeting her parents.  Their last single was called "Pork and Beans."  Two other songs expected to be on the new release are called "I'm Your Daddy" and "The Girl Got Hot," which earned the scorn of sticks-in-the-mud like that chick from Sleater-Kinney.  Weezer has successfully transitioned from emo to full-on joke-rock.  And frankly, we needed another great joke-rock band.  It's been a long, long time since the Replacements called it quits.

Earlier this evening, M-----l and I were having a few beers and talking about music.  I mentioned my ongoing list of the best records of the year and he suggested I post it.  He mentioned he was out of beer and I suggested he go get more.  At least one of us was prepared to follow though.

Just a little background info, on the very good chance you didn't read the comments on the other post.  This is a list of my favorite records of every year since I graduated from college.  The only criteria are that the record must have been both released and purchased by me within that calendar year.  That's why a lot of great shit doesn't show up here.  I'm notoriously bad about buying new music in a timely fashion.  I wouldn't want to get burned like an idiot like others do.

A while back, Jason posted something in the ether that is Vox comments (I'm too lazy to find it) about Weezer's "thundering" second album.  I disagreed, natch, with the "thundering" assessment, but I have to admit now that at the time I'd never heard Weezer's second album.  I made an educated guess/uninformed decision based on the 'blue album' - which I had heard.  And - as often happens - I was right.  Pinkerton doesn't "thunder," per se, but it rocks harder than I would have given Weezer credit.  But what I like most is how futile the lyrics are.  If ever there was a record about completely giving up on everything, that record is Pinkerton.  These things I can appreciate.

All of this is apropos of nothing, except that I had an extremely shitty day today and I also learned that there is another Weezer song on the soundtrack to the upcoming Guitar Hero Five.  I wish it was this one, because this is undeniably the best Weezer song there is.  But it's not like I'm any stranger to the sentiment behind the song they chose.

PS.  I think M-----l and Rivers Cuomo were separated at birth.  Sometimes.

I saw Wilco last night at Wolf Trap.  (It was a good show despite a set list heavy on their three most recent albums.)  (That said, if I never see "Spiders (Kidsmoke)" or "Impossible Germany" performed again live, it will be too soon.)  (Ditto for "Bull Black Nova.")  (Jeff Tweedy was more animated than I have ever seen him.)  (He took the lead on a few guitar solos that on previous tours he might have left to Nels.)  (I enjoyed seeing him vamp like Freddy Mercury on the otherwise non-rocking "Hummingbird.")  (Also, Emma thinks he's lost some weight.)  (I've had some good luck with the al fresco concerts lately, but I still would rather have been at the 9:30 Club.)  (And I'm glad we weren't on the lawn.)  (There's something inherently wrong with a rock concert at which many people feel obliged to take off their shoes.)  (I think my second favorite member of Wilco - after Tweedy, of course - is Pat.)  (His rock star poses on the songs which got him out from behind the keyboards were endearing.)  (Tweedy says the parentheticals are "out of hand" but he started it.)

I have bad news.  I'm afraid it's not going to work out between Zooey and me.  And no, it's got nothing to do with Ben Gibbard; she's been over him for a while.  (The halitosis was an issue.)  I called it off.  See, Zo has a new hipster romantic comedy coming out this summer and she thought it would be a good idea to get together with her pal M. Ward and cover a Smiths song for the soundtrack.  I feel so.... betrayed.

I'm too distraught right now to offer anything further.  I really thought she might be the one.  If anyone needs me, I'll be watching the following video on repeat for the next five to seven hours, reliving happier times/what I wish would happen.