“Phoenix … kind of f—ing rules!”
– Ben Bridwell
Band of Horses singer
June 29, 2006

If the increase in size of the crowd at Thursday night’s show compared to a March appearance at the same venue is any indication, Band of Horses is growing in popularity exponentially. Last night’s gig at the Rhythm Room drew roughly 300 people, compared to (and this is a rough guess) about 75 for a date in March. For Phoenix, that’s saying something. The buzz was palpable, and I’m still trying to figure out where it originated (magazines? radio? MySpace?).

The place was so packed we tried to wedge out a little spot for ourselves off to the side. Somehow, we ended up smack dab in the front, close enough to put our finished drink glasses/cans on the stage (sorry, Rhythm Room). Also close enough to get good shots of frontman Ben Bridwell’s neck tattoo. (I’m pretty sure it’s a liger.)

I gotta admit: I was a little disgruntled. Where was everyone in March?!? Ah, but that’s just indie-rock snobbery. A band like this deserves whatever sold-out crowds it draws. There’s not a more amiable and engaging frontman than Bridwell. His chatter in between (and sometimes during) songs is priceless, and he exudes a carefree feeling that there’s just no other place he’d rather be than playing for you.

His gratuitous use of the word “dudes” – “Thanks, dudes!” after about every song – is both humorous and endearing. “We’re just gonna have a good time together, dudes,” he said at the start of the show. And the overwhelming applause from each song made him jokingly cover his ears, as if he didn’t just get the same response the night before. No matter. For one night, Bridwell boasted on Phoenix and took a jab at his former hometown of Tucson, where they played to an apparently lackluster crowd on Wednesday night. (Memo to touring musicians: Phoenicians eat that up every time.)

Whatever, his “dudes” and thumbs-up and hang-loose hand gestures (seriously, hang loose?) make the touring rock-star life seem so appealing. If you don’t wanna be the lead singer of Band of Horses after you see Band of Horses, there’s something wrong with you.

Perhaps predictably, the group saved Funeral (mp3) for last – at least prior to the obligatory encore, in which Bridwell played a new tune solo. He warned that it was still rough: “So don’t go write about it on your blog. I know you have a blog; I can tell from the look in your eye.” What? Who, me?

For Funeral, Bridwell encouraged the crowd to sing along on the “ooooh, ooooohs” leading up to the song’s climax: “Come on, dudes. Stay in tune.” So when he botched a guitar note later on in the tune, he jokingly reminded us mid-song: “Hey f— that; you guys f—ed up the vocals!”

Better were two versions of Wicked Gil: the album version (if you will) and a slower, more romantic rendition for the encore. My wife loves this song, even if she has no clue what the lyrics are (“they’ll be eating people to safety”?) so to have it played twice was gravy.

I bought Everything All the Time on vinyl last night, and I’m convinced it’s going to take a real strong showing from someone to supplant this as my Album of the Year. (And The Great Salt Lake (mp3) as my Song of the Year.)

Related:
Band of Horses on KEXP.
Song of the year (so far): Band of Horses “Funeral.”
(FYI: This selection has since changed to Band of Horses’ The Great Salt Lake.)

Band of Horses around the information superhighway:
@ Gorilla vs. Bear (from Denton, Texas).
@ Chromewaves (from Toronto).
@ Marathonpacks (from Bloomington, Ind.).
@ My Old Kentucky Blog (from Bloomington, Ind.).
@ Stereogum (from New York City).
@ Brooklyn Vegan.

Damn you, Hamilton Leithauser. It wasn’t enough that I so admired the throaty wails and cocksure stage presence of the Walkmen’s front man. Oh, no. I have to discover that my wife harbors a little crush for him, too. Well, that’s just great. No, really. He’s just the cool lead singer of an excellent rock band and I’m … um, well, I blog about the cool lead singer of an excellent rock band. Yeah, I like my chances there.

No matter. I don’t mean to exaggerate, but Saturday’s show was one of the most compelling I’ve seen in some time. The Walkmen pretty much rock. So many indie shows we put up with that self-indulgent moping like it’s just part and parcel of the gig. Damn it! Grab a microphone like you mean it. Yell and scream. Just look at Hamilton. He even drinks his beer like he’s got something to prove. A Hollywood Reporter concert review says he looks like “a frat boy gone to seed.”

The Izod shirt was a nice touch.

Highlights: The Rat (duh), Wake Up, Little House of Savages, Louisiana … oh, pretty much all of them.

[mp3] The Walkmen | Louisiana

Also, the Walkmen were guest DJs at the Rogue in Scottsdale for a little after-party action at the club night “Shake.” The place was freaking crammed and hot as Hades, but after several Bud Lights at the show ($5 for a 24 oz. can!), dancing seemed like a very realistic option. So we did. I mean, I don’t dance. Ever. But when Hamilton dropped some N.W.A. Straight Outta Compton, well, my crush far exceeded my wife’s.

A couple of pics:

It’s 2:30 in the morn, and we just pulled in from Tucson (about an hour-and-a-half drive). Forgive me if I don’t combine nouns and verbs and stuff in proper order.

After reading so much about this tour via the blogosphere, it was great to finally put my own eyes/ears on it. And I gotta tell ya: I’m not sure what the backlash is about. These are good bands. Why are some people (read: elitist snobs … you know who you are) so quick to embrace bands then chew ’em up and spit ’em out? Because they got popular? Because they signed to a label? Oh, no. More people found out about them and now they’re not your secret little band. Get over it.

Saying nothing against Tapes n Tapes and Figurines, because I enjoyed them both quite a bit, I think it was a unanimous decision among our group of four that Cold War Kids left a great impression. I’d really only been familiar with what I’d heard from their Web site, so I considered their energetic set a real pleasant surprise.

I was strangely obsessed with the Cold War bassist (anyone got a name?) and what appeared to be his nervous tics on stage. He seemed to tap out every drum beat on another band member’s arm or back with his off hand. (It reminded me a bit of Mike Doughty from his Soul Coughing days.) It was totally strange and also indicative of the group’s constant motion on stage. There was not a whole lot of standing still.

And if you haven’t listened to Hospital Beds (mp3) yet, what’re you waiting for? My only complaint with CWK: Where was your merch? I was prepared to shell out for some CDs. Guess I’ll order it here.

Figurines, as Chris pointed out from the Dallas show, were perhaps mis-slotted into the second spot. It’s probably asking a lot to follow Cold War Kids, who are a little more boisterous and kinetic.

Again, I become weirdly obsessed with more of the mannerisms/clothing of the group members than anything. Perhaps it’s a Danish thing to wear really taut shirts and pants? And boots (see below). And, oh, the hair. A lot of it. Big and feathery. If nothing else, Figurines put a skittish edge on their indie pop with great results. It translated nicely live, if not a little loudly. (The Rivalry, mp3).

And, yeah, that Tapes ‘n Tapes band, which was making its Arizona debut. (Why not Phoenix, Tapes ‘n Tapes? “Ask our booking agent,” they said. Bah!) The moments of heightened excitment live are the ones you might expect (at least for me): Just Drums, The Illiad, Insistor (mp3), 10 Gallon Ascots (dear lord, my new favorite).

If I may, I’ll put on my unprofessional music critic’s hat for a moment: I think they need a second guitarist. Just for some added oomph. On the next go-round, Tapes no doubt will be playing to bigger audiences in bigger venues. A little extra punch, I think, will go a long way with these songs.

That said, Josh Grier is an engaging frontman and the plethora of accompanying instruments (sleigh bells, tambourines, french horn? or was that a tuba?) brighten the sound as a whole. And, come on, is there a better opening bass line than the one on Cowbell (mp3)?

You might check out Tucson Scene for some pictures. I was lazy. My bad.

I’m going to bed.

Great, great show last night by Soul Position. I realized it’d been some time since I’d been to a real fun hip-hop show, and SP fixed all that. I also highly recommend opener Blue Scholars from Seattle.

[mp3] Blue Scholars | No Rest for the Weary
(thanks to tmwsiy* for this track!)

I also briefly chatted up Blueprint at the merch table. Seriously nice guy. He even put a card I gave him in his wallet. Can’t wait til he cleans it out and is like, “What the f*** is this?” (Tosses into trash.)

Pics aren’t all that great for a couple of reasons: a) We stayed back by the bar, so I was kinda far away; b) We stayed back by the bar, so I was kinda drunk. I know flash is annoying, but I had to use it ’cause I was far back. Anyway, some dude in Jesus sandals took umbrage with that: “You know, you can turn that off.” I later took a picture of him (with flash) because he irritated me. Maybe he’s reading this. Hi, Jesus Sandals Guy!

RJD2 rocks a trigger drumpad around his neck with “technology on his head.”

Blueprint and RJD2.

We like RJD2.

Jesus!! Sandals.
And just to prove that I’ll incriminate myself, here’s a photo that pretty much destroys any hopes I had of public office:

Hey, who’s the clown in the ironic T-shirt? Oh, it’s Royce!

Elsewhere …

Seattle station KEXP has a blog. Read it.

And a shout out to Jason, who works at Zia Records and I met last night. He didn’t even laugh when I bought Van Halen’s 1984 on vinyl.

And now, the post you’ve all been waiting for … well, at least one of you.

Allow me to backtrack to the National show in LA last week. Annie and I are having a splendid time at the bar with Justin and his wife, Melissa (two of the nicest people you’ll meet). Then the house music dies and a tall man with a button-down shirt (white collar/cuffs) takes the stage. He’s by himself. Singing. There’s some electronic-type beats backing him. Nothing more, nothing less.

So we’re sorta stunned. Like, this isn’t for real, is it? It is. And, admittedly, we kind of have a laugh at it. Until … um, well … I start getting into it. For a guy who is like a cross between Harry Connick and Rick Astley (props to the wife for that reference), I’m thinking this is some ironic/hipster ploy. It isn’t.

And it isn’t funny anymore when all the cool kids start slowly migrating toward the stage, eager for a closer look whilst bobbing to the beats. I can’t decide: He’s retro, he’s ironic, he’s hip, he’s ballsy, he’s … good. Hell, he has a pompadour. And he’s sort of doing this mic-in-one-hand, mic-cord-in-the-other-hand dance that you might do if you were at home by yourself listening to Wham!. In a matter of about a 40-minute set, Baby Dayliner converts elitist hipsters to cooing fans.

Melissa was so enamored with Baby Dayliner, she just had to get her picture with him. So she steps to him at the bar, tells him he put on a great show, and he’s a real nice, laid-back cool kind of dude. He makes small talk – and makes some pretty sweet faces for photos:

Now I have to jump into the scene:

So does my wife. Baby Dayliner is winning over our wives. (Cut to scene: Me falling to knees, arms extended to sky): Daaaaaamn you, Baby Dayliner!!:

Peep Baby D (that’s what I call him) on MySpace. His new album, Critics Pass Away, is due out in May on Brassland.

Baby Dayliner | Raid!
(From his LP High Heart & Low Estate)

Also …

• Dodge is rockin’ a new Black Keys track here.
• Eric, probably my favorite-ist writer out on these here blogs, kills it yet again with another well-written piece on the exaggerated notion of “payola” and what it means to mp3 bloggers.
• Peter saw Blackalicious Tuesday night, and I’m jealous.

How about some upcoming shows in the A to the Z?:

• Jax may severely injure me if I don’t go check out the Cold War Kids opening for Two Gallants at Modified on Thursday.
• Fruit Bats visit Modified on April 15. Alas, I work. The second time they’ve come through that I’ll have to miss out.
• Bloc Party and TV on the Radio, April 27 at Marquee Theatre in Tempe.
• How about John Vanderslice on May 9 at Modified? With Laura Veirs. I missed JV in November because I was in Chicago. Not this time, my friends.
• Next day, May 10: Soul Position at the Clubhouse in Tempe.
• May 24 is Prefuse 73 with Edan at the Brickhouse in Phoenix.
• May 29 is Pinback at the Clubhouse (Jesus, Stateside Presents is bringin’ it!)
• And June 17 … the Walkmen with Richard Swift and Talkdemonic at the Clubhouse.

Holy hell. I didn’t realize how dependent I was on technology until my Cox digital package of telephone/cable/Internet bugged out for two days. It’s fixed, thank heavens. But I may need help: Hi, I’m Kevin. And I’m addicted to the Internet. (OK, now, everyone, all at once … “Hiiiii, Kevin.”)

Anyway, I have lots to catch up on this week, including Monday’s show at the Rhythm Room with the Cloud Room and Phoenix’s own Asleep in the Sea.

I’ll start with Asleep in the Sea, a trio that’s becoming one of my favorite local acts, as much for the guys’ approach as for their music. That was never clearer than on Monday, when there couldn’t have been more than 30 people in the place (hey, it is Phoenix) when they took the stage at about 9 p.m.

Instead of sulking, Tom (guitars, vocals), Owen (keys, bass) and Eli (drums) embraced and made light of the situation. When life hands you lemons … errr, something like that. Anyway, the best way I can describe Asleep in one word is this: irreverent. They have a special talent for not taking themselves too seriously, and that should hold any cynicism of a fledgling band at bay (for now).

Asleep in the Sea | Dance On

Also, Asleep put out a MySpace bulletin about an upcoming tour. They’re asking for any help in setting up shows. Go be their friend and help ’em out!

As for the Cloud Room, I came away really impressed. But then I’ve been enjoying the band’s self-titled debut, so I sort of went in with high hopes anyway.

The band, especially frontman J., captured the emotion and energy of a band that is – and should be – going places. For all the buzz Hey Now Now has created (it was the penultimate song on the setlist, if you were curious), I’ve found myself absorbed with the rest of the album: particularly Blackout!, Waterfall and We Sleep in the Ocean.

At the risk of sounding like a band sycophant, I did chat with J. after the show when I bought a 7″ for Waterfall. After all, he was wearing a National shirt; how could I resist? Anyway, besides being a really nice guy, he seemed to have his focus trained on the group’s second album, for which they have four songs recorded already. The band had a one-album deal with Gigantic, so they’ll either shop new stuff to labels or put it out themselves.

From what I could gather in my quick chat with J., he seems eager to calm the hubbub surrounding Hey Now Now – which, if the previously linked Pitchfork article is to be believed, was the inspiration to a hastily thrown-together album – and let people form opinions on the Cloud Room from what should be a more carefully crafted LP. J. seems acutely aware of the fact that not a band (or a career) does one single make, catchy as it may be. But that’s just my guess.

The Cloud Room | Blackout!

Whatever the case, on to a few pictures:

Before any talk of the National, I gotta say what a fun time we had hanging out with Justin and his wife Melissa and, of course, Jax. All are fantastic people and I’m happy to consider them friends … like, ones I’ve met in person and stuff.

Also, thanks to Chris for chipping in with the Camp Lo update. And to Royce, who will catch the blogging bug in due time. I expect to see more of him up on this here site, so be prepared.

As for the National … my high expectations were absolutely exceeded. A packed venue (sold out) always makes the anticipation a little more heightened. I’d listened to Alligator so many times, yet what’s great about a show like this is how it makes you revisit the album to listen for something you missed the first time (or hundred times) around.

That was the case, for me at least, with Mr. November (mp3). The song quietly hangs around as the last track on Alligator, so I’d been giving it the short shrift. Jax predicted, correctly, the National would play it as the second to last song (before the encore). As our friend Ben said, “It’s the jam.”

It’s like something clicked when I saw/heard it played live. That probably had something to do with lead singer Matt Berninger, who is compelling on stage, if not perhaps a tad dramatic. Either way, his body language is at times spastic and theatrical. At this show, he had a habit of tucking his left hand under is right armpit while his right arm was cocked at a 90-degree angle, mic in hand.

It might have seemed over the top or insincere if he didn’t sing with such charisma. How can you deny these lines in Mr. November?:

“I wish that I believed in fate/
I wish I didn’t sleep so late/
I used to be carried in the arms of cheerleaders”

Mr. November has the same feel of tension and release as Abel with Berninger’s guttural yells peaking in the chorus, before leveling off just as you’ve reached this internal boiling point yourself. (Never mind that when I first heard the song I thought Berninger was saying, “The warm front is over / I’m Mr. November.” What?!?! I’m an idiot.)

Thing is, though, I’ve attached such emotional ties to the songs of Alligator that it was almost impossible for the National to disappoint me. Is it possible for Alligator to be my album of the year for 2006, too?

(FYI, emusic has added the National’s back catalog.)

Alas, I also need to mention opener Talkdemonic, a two-piece folksy-electronic instrumental duo from Portland, Ore. I’ve said before that instrumental-only music has to work very hard to keep my attention. But Talkdemonic isn’t instrumental for the sake of being instrumental. There are very unique (viola-meets-Apple laptop-meets-drums) compositions at play. It’s easy to imagine these pieces as backdrops to movies, their sound brimming with emotion.

Kevin O’Connor, one-half of Talkdemonic.
Tomorrow’s post will be devoted to the first opener … but I won’t spoil it for you just yet.

Wednesday’s Low/Damien Jurado show was not only worth our two-hour drive to Tucson, it was worth the wait after Low canceled its tour last year because of Alan Sparhawk’s mental well-being, about which he was refreshingly candid with fans.

The last (and only) time I’d seen Low was in Tempe, Ariz., in the mid ’90s when they opened for Soul Coughing. Perhaps an unlikely pairing, but I can remember people in the crowd booing during Low’s set. Idiots.

I gotta believe this is the first indie/rock show I’ve been to in which drums were used but no bass drum. It’s sort of symbolic of both Jurado and Low’s somber output. (At one point, Jurado’s drummer even put a towel over the snare drum to give it a muffled effect.)

Listening to Low and seeing Low are two completely different experiences. It’s one thing to hear the three-piece band on CD, mp3 or what have you. It’s quite another to see it – this minimalist setup of guitar, bass and stripped-down drum kit. I’m amazed how the sparsity of the songs inspire such strong emotions. Then to add the element of Sparhawk’s personal issues (of which he only apologized for the canceled dates) and the tension and feelings of the songs become that much stronger.

For me, the best song had to be When I Go Deaf off The Great Destroyer. I’ve loved Cue the Strings so much from this album and overlooked how stunning this one is. The lyrics are just so powerful. I have a feeling I’ll be listening to this song many times in the coming weeks.

One final note on Low: Sparhawk and wife Mimi Parker have absolutely gorgeous voices. It’s moving to hear and see music with such heart and feeling behind it.

Also …

My favorite record store in Tucson, formerly PDQ Records and Tapes, changed ownership and is now the strangely named Judy’s Music (I still can’t bring myself to say it). Lucky for me, the same inventory exists – a warehouse chock full of vinyl. What I spent $32 on:

LPs:
Paul Simon, Graceland
Sparks, Interior Design
45s:
Sam Cooke, Another Saturday Night/Send Me Some Lovin’
Eddy Grant, Electric Avenue/Time Warp
Tears for Fears, Shout/The Big Chair
Bill Joel, Pressure/Laura
Jean Knight, Mr. Big Stuff/Why I Keep Living These Memories
Run-DMC, It’s Tricky/Proud to be Black (picture sleeve!)

What kind of guy would I be if I didn’t share?

Eddy Grant | Electric Avenue

More …

It appears eMusic is gaining steam. Not only did I see a TV commercial for it the other day, Rolling Stone reports it’s No. 2 in digital music sales. (Get your free trial today.)

The Department of Justice is checking into digital music pricing by major labels. (Story from Reuters via Yahoo.)

Couple of new shows for Phoenix (via Stateside Presents):
>> The Cloud Room, April 2, Rhythm Room.
>> Bloc Party (!) and TV on the Radio, April 27, at Marquee Theatre.

This isn’t so much of a review of Monday’s Nada Surf/Rogue Wave/The King of France show in Tempe, Ariz., as it is a quasi-examination of a trend that Nada Surf – for better or worse – seems to somehow epitomize.

That said, I don’t want to minimize Monday’s performances. That was my first experience with Nada Surf live, and I’m really impressed at how seemingly innocuous pop songs translate into these powerful anthems on stage. On top of that, we were treated to two encores: the first about five songs and the second a closing dose of Blizzard of ’77.

But even more surreal was that Nada performed that blessing and curse of a song: Popular. Given the group’s fairly drastic shift in style since 1996’s High/Low, I guess I had just sort of assumed – incorrectly, it appears – that the group disavowed that song.

In all honesty, I like Popular. It’s a good song with a timeless message about the social caste system of high school – something to which anyone who has or will go to high school can relate.

Unfortunately, Popular was so, well, popular that people tend to only associate Nada Surf with that song. To wit: Do a search for Nada Surf on iTunes. The band comes up on one of iTunes’ “essentials” lists: ” ’90s One-Hit Wonders.” Oh, that dreaded “one-hit wonder” label. Lumping Nada Surf into a playlist alongside artists such as Snow, Eagle-Eye Cherry and Chumbawamba isn’t only unfair and irresponsible, it’s misleading. Did iTunes forget about Nada’s three terrific albums since?

So when someone in the crowd Monday actually requested Popular during a silent moment between songs, I cringed. I turned to my wife: “No. Someone didn’t actually just request that, did they?” I’m still not sure what surprised me more: that someone requested it or that Nada Surf played it. I don’t think it was part of the set list, but I can’t be sure about that.

What was more telling was lead singer Matthew Caws’ reaction before and after the song. Bassist Daniel Lorca asked the crowd for help singing, and Caws said, almost sheepishly, “I like singing that song.” Afterward, Caws explained, “Hey, we still like that song. We just don’t play it every night. No big deal.”

It almost sounded like an apology, but it was more of a statement that Popular is still part of Nada Surf history, one-hit wonder tag be damned. I think it’s to Nada Surf’s credit that the band has created such a great catalog of songs since Popular that anyone who actually thinks of Nada as a one-hit wonder is missing out entirely on what the group has to offer.

So, uh, what the hell:

Nada Surf | Popular
Nada Surf | Armies Walk
(A song I wish they would have played off The Weight is a Gift. Buy it!)