Kevin’s computer is still in the shop, so hi. My name is Ben and I’ll be your fake-Kevin for the day.

Since Kevvy Kev is feeling helpless without his machine, I kind of feel obligated to drop something ultra-cool on y’all and I think I’ve got just the thing. This band came to me by way of the esteemed music director at Canadian radio station CJSW (who, when he isn’t being lazy also writes with me at the link above, he’s pretty lazy though.) The band is called Sudden Infant Dance Syndrome and they are awesome. Hailing from Calgary, they’re a bunch of kids, literally, hardly out of high school and are often described as “dance rock.” But calling them “dance rock” is pretty weak, because it implies a certain pretentiousness that this band replaces with sarcasm and fun. The opening of their new 7″ opens as one of the band members says “This next song. . .is about freedom” and then launches into a furious 42 second call and response explosion asking “Who ya gonna take to the prom? Sally? Cindy? Becky? Joan?” After each name comes the quick response “NO!” Other songs feature plenty of literary references for the dorks and plenty of fast-paced fun for the kids who just wanna shake it a bit. I should have the 7″ in my hands in a few short days and I can’t wait to here more from these young Canadians. You can buy the 7″ here for a mere $5. I also posted a video of the Sudden Infant Dance Syndrome covering “Love Will Tear Us Apart” over at the normal home of my sporadic writings, Hang On To Your Ego.

Sudden Infant Dance Syndrome | (Who You Gonna Take To The) Prom?
Sudden Infant Dance Syndrome | Dr. Awkward

I realize that celebrating this, my 300th post, is rather arbitrary and probably trivial. But, hey, you’ll just have to indulge me. It’s a nice round number.

And it gives me a good reason to talk about Sparta, one of those bands that I absolutely love but sometimes gets buried in my cycles of listening.

Quick history lesson: Sparta originally formed as an off-shoot of El Paso’s At the Drive-In. Singer/guitarist Jim Ward, drummer Tony Hajjar and guitarist Paul Hinojos formed Sparta; Cedric Bixler and Omar Rodriguez became the Mars Volta. Hinojos has left Sparta, and Keeley Davis has joined.

OK, now that we’re caught up … In lieu of any new mp3s, Sparta is teasing to the release of its third LP on Sept. 26 with three-minute video podcasts. The podcasts, all artful and grainy, show clips of the band recording with cryptic sort of overtones. The first episode flashes the message: “Hide who you are” and “The service and loyalty I owe … there if I grow” near the end. If anything, it’s an intriguing piece of marketing.

Links to the podcasts (via iTunes):
Episode I
Episode II
Episode III

Check out Sparta on MySpace. And I swear I saw Sparta on the original Austin City Limits Festival lineup, but now they’re gone. What’s up with that?

Until we hear some new stuff, here’s a B-side to a 7″ for Mye, which was on Sparta’s debut, Wiretap Scars.

Sparta | Vacant Skies

Death Cab for Cutie is going to perform tonight on the Henry Rollins Show on IFC. But there’s a “Web exclusive” of Ben Gibbard and Chris Walla performing Sound of Settling acoustic.

No matter what you think of Death Cab at this point (someone no doubt is crying “sellout” at this very second), you have to wonder: What in the hell is Ben Gibbard wearing in this performance? He’s already got this doughy, guy-you’d-take-home-to-mom thing going. The knit cap and striped shirt (3 for $24 at Old Navy!) just are not helping.

He looks like a sailor. With glasses. Who plays guitar. I mean, far be it from me to judge someone’s fashion sense; I go for the no-sock look with just about everything. But this is just really hard to take seriously. The least he could have done is wear his new Stereogum shirt.

Check out two-fourths of Death Cab performing Sound of Settling here.

Also …

Taking the eMac into the Apple store’s genius bar (their word) today. For whatever reason, it’s been locking up and telling me I need to restart my computer. It does this like, oh, every day. Anybody have this happen to their Mac? I’m afraid there’s some sort of hard drive corruption going on. Dear lord. Wish me luck.

Call me shallow, but when I see members of a group have done production and remixes for DJ Shadow, Low (Monkey remix), Blackalicious, Lyrics Born and Run DMC, I tend to perk up and move that group’s CD to the top of the to-listen pile.

Say hello to Halou, a three-piece electro-pop outfit from San Francisco. At one point in my life – OK, like two weeks ago – anything described as “electronic” probably would have made me shudder and run. But this album came from a trusted and respected source, so I owed it to myself to listen, and I’m glad I did.

There’s a soothing warmth to this album, due in no small part to Rebecca Coseboom’s lead vocals. If I were some professional writer who uses flowery adjectives, I might say something like “ethereal” or “lush” or “wistful.” Oh wait, that’s been done.

This is the best kind of electronic music: programmed beats and layered synths mixed with a delicate touch of live instrumentaion.

Wholeness & Separation comes out May 23. Pre-order here.

Halou | Honeythief
Halou | Wholeness

Is there any doubt that former Faith No More frontman Mike Patton (also of Mr. Bungle fame) is one of the most … well … unique and intriguing characters in rock? In 1989-90 you couldn’t not notice Patton when Epic blew up, with that video and the poor little fish flopping around gasping for air at the end. (I prefer Falling to Pieces, but anyway … ).

It shouldn’t come as a surprise then that Patton’s Peeping Tom album (on his own Ipecac Recordings) is a bit unorthodox in its execution and final product: According to the bio, “Patton would write songs with a wishlist of theoretical collaborators in mind, then hope for a reply in the form of a finished track.” What you get is 11 tracks that aren’t very cohesive as a whole, but unusually creative as individual parts.

The list of collaborators is just as intriguing. Among others: Kool Keith, Dan the Automator, Massive Attack, Bebel Gilberto, Kid Koala and … wait for it … Norah Jones. Yes, everybody, Ms. Jones drops an F-bomb, and it’s on record for all to hear. (Check Stereogum for some more risque Jones … Norah, if you’re nasty.)

As always, I’m attracted to any artist pushing limits and willing to collaborate with respected hip-hop artists. And it doesn’t get any better than Kool Keith, Dan the Automator or Kid Koala.

iTunes has a track, Preschool (click it), that is unavailable on the LP, due for release May 30.

Here’s a Billboard story on Mike Patton’s numerous projects.

Finally, Peeping Tom will be on Conan O’Brien May 26.

Peeping Tom (feat. Rahzel and Dan the Automator) | Mojo

The great Dios (Malos) is in town tonight with Starlight Mints and the Octopus Project. Yes, it’s a great lineup and it all happens tonight at Modified. Small problem: I got a late in on tickets to see the Cubs at Diamondbacks. Greg Maddux (5-0) hurling for the Cubbies. I’m so there. Hopefully, I can catch Dios and/or Starlight Mints afterward if Maddux makes quick work of D-Backs, despite Chris’ pleas that I must see the Octopus Project.

Hey, Cubs only come to Phx twice this year – tonight and Thursday, and I’m going to both.

But you don’t think I’ll leave you empty-handed, do you? I’ve got a new Dios track from their just-released iTunes-only EP (click it, foo’). Lead singer Joel explains that the EP is a four-track project, which is how Dios originally was conceived.

One track, I Feel Fatt, is, according to Joel, “a concept song which im curious to see wholl figure it out first.” Cool. But I already love Hermit, which epitomizes that Dios sound – all poppy with those random heavy breaths used as instruments. Dig it.

Dios (Malos) | Hermit
(For a very limited time.)

New mp3 blog alert!:

There’s another Kevin out there (not to be confused with The Kevins). Check out Pop Zeus. For a while, Kevin was sending out an mp3 of the week e-mail to friends and such. I enjoyed it so much, and I’m glad to see he’s gone global. I highly recommend you check out his site for insightful and sometimes nostalgic musings.

Especially tune into his post on Don West, whom you’ll recognize if you used to stay up late and watch the home shopping network with this insane dude screaming at you about mint-condition rookie baseball cards. There are mp3s with Don West’s throaty pleas for your money (“You must … order … more … than … one!”) over some sweet beats. This has to be one of the Posts of the Year.

Rare are the times living in Phoenix when one must choose between two great shows on the same night. I am faced with such a dilemma on May 10, when the Helio Sequence and Crystal Skulls play Modified, while Soul Position, Blue Scholars and One Be Lo rock the Clubhouse in Tempe. Oh, decisions. This must be what it feels like on a nightly basis in LA or New York.

Anyway, as a big RJD2 fan, I’ve already opted for the Soul Position set, and I’m sure I won’t be disappointed. That said, the Helio Sequence has captured my attention of late, thanks to 3Hive, which recently posted on the Sub Pop duo.

This is far from breaking news: The group’s last album, Love and Distance, came out in 2004. Could I possibly be behind the curve any more? No matter. Everyone Knows Everyone is such a fabulous song, full of keyboard quirks and loose rhythms.

Even more appealing to me, though, are the song’s lyrics. I’m sure I’m not the only person who has fleeting thoughts of taking off, leaving … starting fresh somewhere else. I’m oddly drawn to songs dealing with that topic – they’re my accomplices when I entertain those fancy-free notions of jetting.

Just the title of Everyone Knows Everyone tells you something; when everyone knows everyone, life becomes a little more cramped, your personal business a little more revealed. Everyone knows everyone and everyone talks about everyone. I’ve done it. We all have. It makes me want to pick up and go.

“The city where I live
The faces in the crowd
It all just makes me stop to think
This is what I’ve found”

The idea of fleeing but never realizing it is both liberating and deflating. What makes us stay where we are? Guilt? Loyalty? Responsibility? I met a guy at a wedding on Saturday who said he lives in Costa Rica. I asked, “What do you do in Costa Rica?” His reply: “Nothing.” Oh, the escapist fantasies that ran through my head after talking to him.

“There’s no escaping
There’s nothing to escape
For no good reason
I think I’m gonna stay”

I have a few favorite songs about all of this, but I’m curious if anyone else out there has some.

The Helio Sequence | Everyone Knows Everyone

At this point, I don’t need to tell you that Built to Spill’s new album, You In Reverse – the group’s first release in five years – came out April 11. More than any other BtS album, this one has made me think about my … well … lasting relationship with Doug Martsch’s music.

It all started in college (doesn’t it always?). I was living with my brother, who, fortunately for me, has exquisite taste in music. I can’t think of any other album or any other song that so stuck with me in those days on 423 S. Mitchell, Apt. C (oh, the memories), in Tempe, Ariz. For the most part, I liked my hip-hop (Digable, Tribe, you know how we do), and all of a sudden I’m enraptured by these epic guitar jams. Slowly, I was transforming … becoming (gulp) indie. I mostly remember these random weekend days … my bro would go on cleaning binges, the sounds of Perfect From Now On overpowering the vacuum. That was it: I was sold.

Off the top of my head, I can’t think of band whose music has developed such staying power with me. And, frankly, it shouldn’t have happened. I mostly despise long-winded guitar jams (artistic self-indulgence at its worst) and six- to eight-minute songs just aren’t my thing. I can remember a few times seeing BtS live, wondering when those guitar solos might end; and don’t get me started on the Cortez the Killer cover.

Yet Built to Spill’s music spanned those awkward transitional phases of my past decade: college into graduation into what-the-fuck-am-I-doing-working-at-a-newspaper-in-Lubbock-Texas? and, presumably, into adulthood. It’s music that influenced tangible moments.

Better yet, it’s done by a guy, Doug Martsch, who, by all accounts, looks nothing like we imagine (or want) a rock star to look like: balding, beard, beer gut, T-shirt, shorts. Shorts, people! He’s from Boise freaking Idaho (a great city, by the way). He plays pickup basketball (and suffers a detached retina doing so). He’s the rock-and-roll everyman. I trust Doug Martsch. I have more hair than Doug Martsch. (Those two sentence are only slightly related to one another.)

And let’s be honest: His voice isn’t all that great either. Come on, don’t fight me on this. You know it’s true. We like him (and, by association, his band) in part because he looks like one of us. So maybe we can’t play the guitar like he does, but that’s not really the point. At least it isn’t for me.

Besides, lost in those swirly, meandering guitars, is a pretty damn good songwriter. It just takes a little digging to uncover it. Martsch is the type of lyricist I admire the most, his words just cryptic enough so as not to give anything away. He makes you work and concentrate.

Either way, there’s always a certain level of comfort in a Built to Spill album for me, and You In Reverse is no different. As Frank at Chromewaves mentioned, the band isn’t breaking any new ground here. But I’m OK with that. This blog (and others) has opened my eyes to so many bands – some good, some bad, but too many fleeting by nature. A one-off hit/band fad thrills only momentarily; how much do we get out of that? We should appreciate the Built to Spills of this world, who stay by our side and really mean something to us. The rewards are much greater.

Built to Spill | The Wait

I’ve been thinking about the Pitchfork Music Festival, for which my wife and I are securing travel plans. (Hooray, Chicago!)

So far, the lineup is really solid, with Spoon, the National, the Mountain Goats, Band of Horses, Aesop Rock and Tapes ‘n Tapes among the highlights (at least for me) so far. But it got me thinking: How did Pitchfork select its lineup (which still is not officially filled out)? More specifically: What bands would agree to play at a festival organized by a music publication notorious for its acerbic, snobby and sometimes ridiculously vicious (did I get them all?) album reviews?

In an attempt to answer my own question, I delved into some admittedly surface research. I went to Pitchfork’s site and used its search engine set to “Reviews” and plugged in each band and recorded the rating given to each album. I didn’t bother looking at the authors of said reviews, although that certainly could be a tell of certain consistencies across an artist’s catalog. So, keep in mind here the, ahem, science is a bit crude.

The results are somewhat revealing, if not totally expected: Of 60 albums reviewed from 13 artists (not including Hot Machines, for which there were no reviews) booked so far for the festival, the average rating is 7.64 (458.6 total divided by 60 reviews).

The highest-rated artist with more than one album (Band of Horses drew an 8.8, and well-deserved, I might add) is Silver Jews at 8.76. The lowest-rated artist is Ted Leo and the Pharmacists at 6.92; a 4.0 on Tej Leo (?), Rx/Pharmacists was a killer.

The highest-rated invdividual album (full-length) was the Silver Jews’ American Water, which scored a 9.9 (ooooh-so close to that iconic 10.0). The lowest-rated full-length was the aforementioned Tej Leo. (Although, Mission of Burma’s Accomplished best-of collection got a shabby 1.9, which was more a product of the reviewer’s distaste for Ryko’s packaging and not so much the group itself.)

So, what does this all say, other than that I struggle to use my time wisely? Well, you could argue (as I would) that a conflict of interest exists. A publication that (supposedly) objectively critiques the work of musicians has no business putting on a festival with those same musicians. It implies (perhaps on a subconscious level) a quid pro quo is in place.

Because I work in the media as a sports copy editor at a major newspaper, I think of the old sportswriting adage: “No cheering in the press box.” In other words, writers must, above all else, remain objective in their coverage of a team. Same goes for music.

However, the obvious needs to be stated here: If the Pitchfork honchos are going to organize a festival, they’re not going to invite musicians or bands they don’t like. But think about it. Do bands who have been reviewed favorably feel an obligation to return the goodwill and agree to play the festival? On the flip side, will Pitchfork be swayed in future reviews to look kindly upon artists who performed – not to mention helped raise money and awareness for the site in the process?

I think it’s an interesting topic to explore and should be examined as more bands are announced. I may be oversimplifying the whole thing. But I’m confident in one thing: Travis Morrison will not be invited.

(Here is my crude Excel spreadsheet.)