Julian Plenti
First Unitarian Church, Philadelphia, 27 November
First Unitarian Church, arguably Philadelphia's most unusual venue, was the last stop on the American leg of the Julian Plenti tour. A small but enthusiastic crowd crammed into the tiny basement gig space for a set that included both the softly introspective and angularly uptempo tracks from debut album Julian Plenti Is...Skyscraper. The music, a product of Interpol frontman Paul Banks' side solo gig, diverges from Interpol enough to make it worth a separate listen, while maintaining enough familiar hints of the other band to keep fans happy.
With only one album to draw from, Banks and his band played most of the debut, beginning with some gentler tracks and working up to more dramatic numbers like Fun That We Have . Standouts included soft, dark On the Esplanade and Only If You Run and Interpol-channeling Girl on the Sporting News, along with an unexpected snippet of Let It Snow in honor of the beginning of America's post-Thanksgiving Christmas season. The encore included a well-executed cover of America's A Horse With No Name and closed with lead single Games for Days, one of the most dynamic tracks of the night.
First Unitarian is one of my favorite venues because it provides an opportunity to see great bands in a remarkably intimate space. Banks and his band are well-suited to smaller gigs; the Julian Plenti sound isn't as cavernous and cold as Interpol and Banks' voice changes and modulates slightly, becoming less monotone, to suit the musical differences. Though it's technically a solo project, the band is an integral part of the performance, particularly the standout guitarist. Everyone seemed to be having a great time on stage and in the audience; another facet of First Uni is that it tends to draw an enthusiastic, musically well-informed crowd. Banks seemed pleased and surprised by the warm welcome to his new music; this week they take their solid show off for a short tour of Europe that's well worth attending.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Tonight, in Jungleland
Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band
First Mariner Arena, Baltimore, 20 Nov
Set list:
Wrecking Ball
Prove It All Night
Hungry Heart
Working on a Dream
--Born to Run--
Thunder Road
Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out
Night
Backstreets
Born to Run
She's the One
Meeting Across the River
Jungleland
Waitin' on a Sunny Day
Spirit in the Night
Green Onions
Santa Claus Is Comin' to Town
E Street Shuffle
For You
Radio Nowhere
My Love Will Not Let You Down
Long Walk Home
The Rising
Badlands
Ramrod
Hard Times
Land of Hope and Dreams
American Land
Dancing in the Dark
Rosalita
Higher and Higher
Glory Days
More to come.
First Mariner Arena, Baltimore, 20 Nov
Set list:
Wrecking Ball
Prove It All Night
Hungry Heart
Working on a Dream
--Born to Run--
Thunder Road
Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out
Night
Backstreets
Born to Run
She's the One
Meeting Across the River
Jungleland
Waitin' on a Sunny Day
Spirit in the Night
Green Onions
Santa Claus Is Comin' to Town
E Street Shuffle
For You
Radio Nowhere
My Love Will Not Let You Down
Long Walk Home
The Rising
Badlands
Ramrod
Hard Times
Land of Hope and Dreams
American Land
Dancing in the Dark
Rosalita
Higher and Higher
Glory Days
More to come.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Cornerstone
Arctic Monkeys
30 September, Electric Factory
I was most excited for my second concert encounter with Arctic Monkeys because it wasn’t going to be outside in a field of mud. Having seen them pre-Humbug this summer at soggy All Points West festival in New York, I looked forward to a more informed experience of tracks from the new album and a longer set that could include more classics. While the first wish was granted, the lack of material from older albums was an obvious disappointment for American fans who get to see the band so rarely. The band made choices to accommodate the dramatically new sound of Humbug, and while the set was cohesive and polished, the frenetic energy that once defined the Arctic Monkeys’ sound felt diminished.
The show kicked off with ‘Dance Little Liar,’ an unusually slow-burning opener that set the tone for the night. The clash between old material and new became apparent in follow-up ‘Brianstorm,’ which psyched the crowd up and injected more energy into the set. ‘Brianstorm’ segued neatly into lead single ‘Crying Lightning,’ bolstered by a militaristic drum roll during the bridge. The showcase of new material continued with the brilliant cover of Nick Cave’s ‘Red Right Hand’ that has been justifiably raved about since its release. ‘Red Right Hand’ is, tonally, what all of Humbug should be. Its creeping vocals and staccato drums echo standout tracks from the album like ‘My Propeller’ and outshine less spectacular moments like ‘Secret Door.’ The track was paired perfectly with ‘Propeller,’ which got a dramatic crowd reaction for its bombastic start before boiling up slowly again with twisting, Bond-theme guitars.
A change in tone occurred with ‘This House Is a Circus,’ which galloped into ‘Still Take You Home’ and ‘I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor.’ Crowd response to classic tracks was massive, particularly the call and response chorus of ‘Dancefloor’ that had the room shouting back “You’re dynamite!”
The worst moment of the night was cacophonous b-side ‘Sketchead,’ a track that has neither the nuanced structure of Humbug nor the bright energy of Whatever People Say I Am... I thought a live version might change my feelings, but my dislike lingered as the band thrashed through a graceless arrangement. Brilliantly structured ‘Cornerstone’ and bouncy ‘Fluorescent Adolescent’ redeemed the set as great closers. ‘Cornerstone’ in particular proved itself as one of the best tracks from the new album; it retains the band’s clever, personal lyrical structure while introducing a subtler musical approach.
A very brief encore saw Turner looking slightly muddled, particularly as he appeared on stage with the greeting, “Philly. Philly. Filet mignon.” ‘505’ closed the set rather softly, and the band departed to mixed chatter as the crowd filtered out.
The influence of Josh Homme’s production is apparent not only on Humbug, but on how the band tours. The interest in musical showmanship during their shows has changed; focus on Turner’s hyper literate lyrics is diminishing, and the band seems to have honed their skills to accommodate more complicated instrumentals. Turner’s vocals have also become more nuanced; the subtle emotion of ‘Cornerstone’ and seductive drawl of ‘My Propeller’ are departures from old tracks like ‘Dancing Shoes.’ That said, they haven’t quite made the transition from Sheffield punks to desert prowling rockers. Their best moments are still found in the combination of Turner’s wordy verses and simple, catchy hooks. Tracks like ‘Secret Door’ lack the punch of ‘Dancefloor,’ though the winding guitar of Humbug can also be compelling. The best marriage of the two appears in tracks like ‘Lightning’ and stomping ‘Dangerous Animals,’ with chanting chorus that could develop into a live favorite if Turner and the band ever remedy the strange lag between music and vocals that I experienced during both APW and this gig.
While the band is relatively motionless, concentrating on solid playing rather than dramatic showmanship, Alex Turner exudes a rockstar confidence that makes him magnetically watchable. That said, there’s slightly too much arrogance in his style, particularly as the band introduces the new sound of Humbug. He barely spoke to the crowd or even looked up from behind his affected, grunge-rock long hair; the most interaction occurred when he drowned out the crowd’s chants for ‘Mardy Bum’ (which, criminally, wasn’t part of the set) with guitar feedback.
Overall, the show represented a turning point for the band as they move away from their teenage punk roots. While their musicianship and the nuance of the songs themselves has increased, the energy that made the Monkeys so compelling is fading. Their willful departure from their old sound is admirable as a musical evolution, yet there is also a sense that they’re spitting in the faces of fans. The pair next to me lamented the absence of clever ‘When the Sun Goes Down,’ but Turner and Co. seemed to feel that they can’t return to the sound that made them famous because it undermines the levity of their new work. Good bands evolve, but great bands do so while remembering their roots.
30 September, Electric Factory
I was most excited for my second concert encounter with Arctic Monkeys because it wasn’t going to be outside in a field of mud. Having seen them pre-Humbug this summer at soggy All Points West festival in New York, I looked forward to a more informed experience of tracks from the new album and a longer set that could include more classics. While the first wish was granted, the lack of material from older albums was an obvious disappointment for American fans who get to see the band so rarely. The band made choices to accommodate the dramatically new sound of Humbug, and while the set was cohesive and polished, the frenetic energy that once defined the Arctic Monkeys’ sound felt diminished.
The show kicked off with ‘Dance Little Liar,’ an unusually slow-burning opener that set the tone for the night. The clash between old material and new became apparent in follow-up ‘Brianstorm,’ which psyched the crowd up and injected more energy into the set. ‘Brianstorm’ segued neatly into lead single ‘Crying Lightning,’ bolstered by a militaristic drum roll during the bridge. The showcase of new material continued with the brilliant cover of Nick Cave’s ‘Red Right Hand’ that has been justifiably raved about since its release. ‘Red Right Hand’ is, tonally, what all of Humbug should be. Its creeping vocals and staccato drums echo standout tracks from the album like ‘My Propeller’ and outshine less spectacular moments like ‘Secret Door.’ The track was paired perfectly with ‘Propeller,’ which got a dramatic crowd reaction for its bombastic start before boiling up slowly again with twisting, Bond-theme guitars.
A change in tone occurred with ‘This House Is a Circus,’ which galloped into ‘Still Take You Home’ and ‘I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor.’ Crowd response to classic tracks was massive, particularly the call and response chorus of ‘Dancefloor’ that had the room shouting back “You’re dynamite!”
The worst moment of the night was cacophonous b-side ‘Sketchead,’ a track that has neither the nuanced structure of Humbug nor the bright energy of Whatever People Say I Am... I thought a live version might change my feelings, but my dislike lingered as the band thrashed through a graceless arrangement. Brilliantly structured ‘Cornerstone’ and bouncy ‘Fluorescent Adolescent’ redeemed the set as great closers. ‘Cornerstone’ in particular proved itself as one of the best tracks from the new album; it retains the band’s clever, personal lyrical structure while introducing a subtler musical approach.
A very brief encore saw Turner looking slightly muddled, particularly as he appeared on stage with the greeting, “Philly. Philly. Filet mignon.” ‘505’ closed the set rather softly, and the band departed to mixed chatter as the crowd filtered out.
The influence of Josh Homme’s production is apparent not only on Humbug, but on how the band tours. The interest in musical showmanship during their shows has changed; focus on Turner’s hyper literate lyrics is diminishing, and the band seems to have honed their skills to accommodate more complicated instrumentals. Turner’s vocals have also become more nuanced; the subtle emotion of ‘Cornerstone’ and seductive drawl of ‘My Propeller’ are departures from old tracks like ‘Dancing Shoes.’ That said, they haven’t quite made the transition from Sheffield punks to desert prowling rockers. Their best moments are still found in the combination of Turner’s wordy verses and simple, catchy hooks. Tracks like ‘Secret Door’ lack the punch of ‘Dancefloor,’ though the winding guitar of Humbug can also be compelling. The best marriage of the two appears in tracks like ‘Lightning’ and stomping ‘Dangerous Animals,’ with chanting chorus that could develop into a live favorite if Turner and the band ever remedy the strange lag between music and vocals that I experienced during both APW and this gig.
While the band is relatively motionless, concentrating on solid playing rather than dramatic showmanship, Alex Turner exudes a rockstar confidence that makes him magnetically watchable. That said, there’s slightly too much arrogance in his style, particularly as the band introduces the new sound of Humbug. He barely spoke to the crowd or even looked up from behind his affected, grunge-rock long hair; the most interaction occurred when he drowned out the crowd’s chants for ‘Mardy Bum’ (which, criminally, wasn’t part of the set) with guitar feedback.
Overall, the show represented a turning point for the band as they move away from their teenage punk roots. While their musicianship and the nuance of the songs themselves has increased, the energy that made the Monkeys so compelling is fading. Their willful departure from their old sound is admirable as a musical evolution, yet there is also a sense that they’re spitting in the faces of fans. The pair next to me lamented the absence of clever ‘When the Sun Goes Down,’ but Turner and Co. seemed to feel that they can’t return to the sound that made them famous because it undermines the levity of their new work. Good bands evolve, but great bands do so while remembering their roots.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Four Winds
The Killers
Merriweather Post Pavilion, Columbia, MD
August 31
August 31’s show at Merriweather Post Pavilion marked my third excellent encounter with The Killers; the only problem that plagues them is abysmal support. In London they were prefaced by talent-bereft Louis XIV, while this show paired them with Wolfmother, who shared nothing stylistically with their headliner. Their sonic onslaught and self-indulgent solos did little to engage the crowd. Andrew Stockdale asked if anyone had been to Wolfmother’s previous Merriweather show; met with silence he remarked, ‘Well, we have nothing in common.’ Truer words...
After a short interlude The Killers appeared, Brandon Flowers bounding onstage in feathered epaulettes. Opener ‘Joyride’ could have switched with Day & Age standout ‘Spaceman,’ which came later in the set. Despite its strange subject matter, ‘Spaceman’ is one of the most impressive songs in the band’s live repertoire, surging forward and pulling the crowd along in its grandiose wake. Follow ups like ‘Somebody Told Me’ paled in comparison, although crowd response to tracks from Hot Fuss was consistently massive.
The best surprise of the night was rarely-played ‘Believe Me, Natalie,’ a bright burst of synth that thrilled loyal fans like me. Though a technical keyboard issue had Flowers scowling, the song itself was dead-on, a perfect reminder of the slick, chilly sound that made the band famous.
Tracks from Sam’s Town were some of the biggest of the night, including the lovely and poignant ‘Read My Mind,’ ‘Bling’ with an added singalong verse, and ‘Bones,’ which saw Flowers at his most hand-shakingly enthusiastic. Joy Division cover ‘Shadowplay’ was solid, although I would have loved to hear their stunning cover of Conor Oberst’s ‘Four Winds’ (if you haven’t heard it yet, get it now). Flowers also threw in a brief interlude of ‘Love Me Tender.’ Set closer ‘All These Things That I’ve Done’ ended in a frenzied singalong under a rain of confetti, with Flowers conducting the crowd and brandishing his mic into thousands of singing voices.
An abbreviated encore of excellently dark ‘Jenny Was a Friend of Mine’ (with switched lyrics ‘she kicked and screamed while I held her throat’) and ‘When You Were Young’ kept up the energy at the end of the show, but my absolute favorite song of the night was ‘A Dustland Fairytale.’ Practically made for arena shows, the slow build from piano and vocals to a grandiose finale was stirring. The drama of the last verse had a girl behind me in the crowd crying, something I’ve never seen at a gig before.
The Killers put on a consistently energetic and diverse live show, and Flowers seems truly passionate, practically bursting with nervous energy as he sprints across the stage. The best thing about repeat viewings of their gigs is seeing how he’s changed. Once nervously stiff and tethered to his keyboard, Flowers now spends the show in motion, leaping onto speakers, twirling the mic stand, and gesturing wildly. At Merriweather he also seemed to be having a great time, cracking a smile in the midst of songs, shoving guitarist Dave Keuning forward playfully during a solo, and reaching out to grab the hands of a few lucky fans, something I would never have expected on the Hot Fuss tour. Perhaps his shining new stage presence reflects the expansion of The Killers’ music from their dark Vegas roots and the dusty desert to the brighter, more diverse sound of this Day & Age.
Island in the Sun
Virgin Mobile Freefest
Merriweather Post Pavilion, Columbia, MD
August 30
I packed my rainboots for Virgin Mobile Freefest but was surprised by beautiful sun, while the grounds of Merriweather Post Pavilion (made famous by Animal Collective) provided shady space for listening to the diverse acts. The Pavilion Stage lineup focused on the mainstream, while the West Stage was a mix of indie and...Public Enemy. Still trying to figure that out.
The first band I caught was Taking Back Sunday, who were the day’s biggest disappointment. Plagued by fuzzy sound that was further marred by sludgy dance tent echo, their songs seemed largely the same, a mix of unclear guitars and middling vocals. Even the afternoon sun was against them; the pavilion’s shadow was so deep that the band was completely obscured for lawn viewers, eliminating the chance for a redeeming stage presence.
Next up were Jet, who topped Taking Back Sunday but didn’t thrill. Their sound quality was far better, but it couldn’t negate the fact that the majority of their songs sounded similar. Crowd pleasers like ‘Are You Gonna Be My Girl’ and ‘Cold Hard Bitch’ delivered, but new tracks fell flat.
Jet were followed by The Bravery. Their new songs sounded similar to the old, so favorites like ‘An Honest Mistake’ carried the set. The Bravery are technically solid but I found that they lacked a crucial energy live. Moments like the sharp opening bass line of ‘Believe’ drew me in, but others, like a loping version of “Time Won’t Let Me Go,’ didn’t hold my attention. One interesting moment-- Sam Endicott introduced new track ‘Jack o’ Lantern Man’ as ‘a song about a guy I fucking hate.’ Still curious who that is.
Awaiting Weezer, the crowd was treated to the spectacle of two parachutists jumping from a helicopter onto the roof of the pavilion, where they shared champagne with unexpected guest Richard Branson. The parachutists and Weezer were the biggest surprises of the night; Weezer nailed their set with upbeat energy and technical prowess. Opening with a snippet of ‘War Pigs,’ they moved to ‘Hash Pipe’ and ‘Undone (The Sweater Song),’ perfect tracks to engage the expanding crowd. New single ‘(If You’re Wondering If I Want You To) I Want You To’ was enjoyably uptempo and followed by classics like ‘Buddy Holly’ and ‘Say It Ain’t So.’
Memories of middle school prompted me to stay for Blink-182 instead of catching Girl Talk (a terrible mistake). My notes read, in full, ‘Damn annoying.’ Blink’s musical skill was mediocre at best and Tom DeLonge reveled in childish stage banter that revolved around how many obscenities he could fit into an intro. (The songs were not as ‘fucking awesome’ as he thought, and they certainly didn’t ‘blow [my] dick off.’) After enduring a few tracks including ‘Rock Show,’ I cut my losses and left for Franz Ferdinand.
The criminally underpopulated West Stage hosted Franz’s set, which could be faulted only for excessive smoke machine use, obscuring louchely energetic frontman Alex Kapranos and guitarist Nick McCarthy as sharp opener ‘This Fire’ got the crowd moving. Standouts included the terrific ‘No You Girls,’ a stomp through ‘Take Me Out,’ and ‘Outsiders,’ which saw the entire band attacking the drum kit for an extended outro. ‘Turn It On’ and ‘Tell Her Tonight’ lagged, but the encore solidified the band’s place as my favorite of the day. Energetic ‘Michael’ and ‘Darts of Pleasure’ preceded a stunning version of ‘Lucid Dreams.’ While the sprawling keyboard solo that concluded the track might have challenged casual listeners, it was a joy for fans. Kapranos and McCarthy created extended waves of sound on multiple keyboards, layering beats carefully for nearly fifteen minutes before letting the track fade to drums as waves of residual smoke roiled across the stage.
Merriweather Post Pavilion, Columbia, MD
August 30
I packed my rainboots for Virgin Mobile Freefest but was surprised by beautiful sun, while the grounds of Merriweather Post Pavilion (made famous by Animal Collective) provided shady space for listening to the diverse acts. The Pavilion Stage lineup focused on the mainstream, while the West Stage was a mix of indie and...Public Enemy. Still trying to figure that out.
The first band I caught was Taking Back Sunday, who were the day’s biggest disappointment. Plagued by fuzzy sound that was further marred by sludgy dance tent echo, their songs seemed largely the same, a mix of unclear guitars and middling vocals. Even the afternoon sun was against them; the pavilion’s shadow was so deep that the band was completely obscured for lawn viewers, eliminating the chance for a redeeming stage presence.
Next up were Jet, who topped Taking Back Sunday but didn’t thrill. Their sound quality was far better, but it couldn’t negate the fact that the majority of their songs sounded similar. Crowd pleasers like ‘Are You Gonna Be My Girl’ and ‘Cold Hard Bitch’ delivered, but new tracks fell flat.
Jet were followed by The Bravery. Their new songs sounded similar to the old, so favorites like ‘An Honest Mistake’ carried the set. The Bravery are technically solid but I found that they lacked a crucial energy live. Moments like the sharp opening bass line of ‘Believe’ drew me in, but others, like a loping version of “Time Won’t Let Me Go,’ didn’t hold my attention. One interesting moment-- Sam Endicott introduced new track ‘Jack o’ Lantern Man’ as ‘a song about a guy I fucking hate.’ Still curious who that is.
Awaiting Weezer, the crowd was treated to the spectacle of two parachutists jumping from a helicopter onto the roof of the pavilion, where they shared champagne with unexpected guest Richard Branson. The parachutists and Weezer were the biggest surprises of the night; Weezer nailed their set with upbeat energy and technical prowess. Opening with a snippet of ‘War Pigs,’ they moved to ‘Hash Pipe’ and ‘Undone (The Sweater Song),’ perfect tracks to engage the expanding crowd. New single ‘(If You’re Wondering If I Want You To) I Want You To’ was enjoyably uptempo and followed by classics like ‘Buddy Holly’ and ‘Say It Ain’t So.’
Memories of middle school prompted me to stay for Blink-182 instead of catching Girl Talk (a terrible mistake). My notes read, in full, ‘Damn annoying.’ Blink’s musical skill was mediocre at best and Tom DeLonge reveled in childish stage banter that revolved around how many obscenities he could fit into an intro. (The songs were not as ‘fucking awesome’ as he thought, and they certainly didn’t ‘blow [my] dick off.’) After enduring a few tracks including ‘Rock Show,’ I cut my losses and left for Franz Ferdinand.
The criminally underpopulated West Stage hosted Franz’s set, which could be faulted only for excessive smoke machine use, obscuring louchely energetic frontman Alex Kapranos and guitarist Nick McCarthy as sharp opener ‘This Fire’ got the crowd moving. Standouts included the terrific ‘No You Girls,’ a stomp through ‘Take Me Out,’ and ‘Outsiders,’ which saw the entire band attacking the drum kit for an extended outro. ‘Turn It On’ and ‘Tell Her Tonight’ lagged, but the encore solidified the band’s place as my favorite of the day. Energetic ‘Michael’ and ‘Darts of Pleasure’ preceded a stunning version of ‘Lucid Dreams.’ While the sprawling keyboard solo that concluded the track might have challenged casual listeners, it was a joy for fans. Kapranos and McCarthy created extended waves of sound on multiple keyboards, layering beats carefully for nearly fifteen minutes before letting the track fade to drums as waves of residual smoke roiled across the stage.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Bang Bang Rock and Roll
Art Brut sagely advises, “Stop buying your albums from the supermarket,” and people have taken heed. In light of constantly dwindling album sales, I like reading the somewhat quaintly outdated US Neilson Soundscan chart. The thing about the chart that interests me most is what’s not selling - it reflects little about the music (predominantly rock and indie) that most people I know enjoy .
In fairness, my friends and I spend a lot of time on independent music websites; we’re not exactly the Lady Gaga fan club. But I assumed that Lady Gaga and her Top 40 contemporaries would dominate sales, so the country and rap albums that populate the top 20 surprise me, as does the lack of rock besides Nickelback and their abysmal sound-alikes. The sole entry that could even remotely (at this point, incredibly remotely) be termed indie in last week’s chart was Kings of Leon. Where is the music that my friends listen to? Hell, where is the music that my parents listen to?
Country is easy to understand; its audience skews older, making their conversion to digital music slower. And country fans are fiercely loyal to their favourite artists; purchasing an album is a sure way to support Carrie Underwood or George Strait (whose albums are certified 68x platinum - talk about loyalty).
Rap is harder to explain. Its fans are young, and considering the number of new rappers charting, it’s safe to say they don’t have much “brand loyalty”. My best guess is that music blogs just aren’t hosting the latest rap leak, so listeners access their music the old fashioned (or just legal) way. In an unscientific test, I searched high-charting rapper Fabolous and indie newcomers The XX on blog aggregator elbo.ws. The results? 236 hits for Fabolous, and 1256 for The XX, who released their debut in America just last week. Fans might want to get their music online, but the option just isn’t there to the same extent.
The obvious opposing question is: Why aren’t rock fans buying albums? I polled some friends and the feedback was universal: none of them buy CDs because the blog culture that ignores rap is a bounty of indie and rock. One said she hadn’t bought a physical album in “about five years” because access to music online is instant and expansive. These genres also aren’t charting because many albums are impossible to find for fans who are loyal enough to buy. A friend in northern California told me she’d been conducting a futile search for the new Maccabees CD. Online sales solve some of these problems, but I still find delayed release dates for international artists a frustrating issue. What about older fans? Some have gone really old school; I recently saw a friend’s father firing up a turntable for vintage rock records instead of CDs or an iPod. Others, like my parents, have become downloaders by proxy, snagging new music that I recommend.
Final question: why do more diverse albums chart in the UK? As I write, Arctic Monkey’s 'Humbug' is on track for number one. Part of the difference is attributable to the music culture; mainstream media focuses more on rock and indie, getting bands like Muse, White Lies, and Kings of Leon out from under the radar quickly and attracting fans who aren’t online specifically to sample new music. Another difference lies in record stores. Independents like Rough Trade stock albums that are hard to get in America, and even HMV has a selection that puts most US shops to shame. Fans like my Maccabees-seeking friend are more likely to support their favourite bands through album sales if albums are available.
So how can the American chart change? Honestly, I’m not sure. Better distribution, online and in stores, seems to be step one, but indie bands also have to win back ravenous music lovers who download for maximum exposure to new music. The silver lining? Rampant downloading creates hordes of new fans who come out to gigs. In fact, I’d love to see a gig chart. Maybe Nickelback wouldn’t be on it.
In fairness, my friends and I spend a lot of time on independent music websites; we’re not exactly the Lady Gaga fan club. But I assumed that Lady Gaga and her Top 40 contemporaries would dominate sales, so the country and rap albums that populate the top 20 surprise me, as does the lack of rock besides Nickelback and their abysmal sound-alikes. The sole entry that could even remotely (at this point, incredibly remotely) be termed indie in last week’s chart was Kings of Leon. Where is the music that my friends listen to? Hell, where is the music that my parents listen to?
Country is easy to understand; its audience skews older, making their conversion to digital music slower. And country fans are fiercely loyal to their favourite artists; purchasing an album is a sure way to support Carrie Underwood or George Strait (whose albums are certified 68x platinum - talk about loyalty).
Rap is harder to explain. Its fans are young, and considering the number of new rappers charting, it’s safe to say they don’t have much “brand loyalty”. My best guess is that music blogs just aren’t hosting the latest rap leak, so listeners access their music the old fashioned (or just legal) way. In an unscientific test, I searched high-charting rapper Fabolous and indie newcomers The XX on blog aggregator elbo.ws. The results? 236 hits for Fabolous, and 1256 for The XX, who released their debut in America just last week. Fans might want to get their music online, but the option just isn’t there to the same extent.
The obvious opposing question is: Why aren’t rock fans buying albums? I polled some friends and the feedback was universal: none of them buy CDs because the blog culture that ignores rap is a bounty of indie and rock. One said she hadn’t bought a physical album in “about five years” because access to music online is instant and expansive. These genres also aren’t charting because many albums are impossible to find for fans who are loyal enough to buy. A friend in northern California told me she’d been conducting a futile search for the new Maccabees CD. Online sales solve some of these problems, but I still find delayed release dates for international artists a frustrating issue. What about older fans? Some have gone really old school; I recently saw a friend’s father firing up a turntable for vintage rock records instead of CDs or an iPod. Others, like my parents, have become downloaders by proxy, snagging new music that I recommend.
Final question: why do more diverse albums chart in the UK? As I write, Arctic Monkey’s 'Humbug' is on track for number one. Part of the difference is attributable to the music culture; mainstream media focuses more on rock and indie, getting bands like Muse, White Lies, and Kings of Leon out from under the radar quickly and attracting fans who aren’t online specifically to sample new music. Another difference lies in record stores. Independents like Rough Trade stock albums that are hard to get in America, and even HMV has a selection that puts most US shops to shame. Fans like my Maccabees-seeking friend are more likely to support their favourite bands through album sales if albums are available.
So how can the American chart change? Honestly, I’m not sure. Better distribution, online and in stores, seems to be step one, but indie bands also have to win back ravenous music lovers who download for maximum exposure to new music. The silver lining? Rampant downloading creates hordes of new fans who come out to gigs. In fact, I’d love to see a gig chart. Maybe Nickelback wouldn’t be on it.
Monday, August 3, 2009
When your feet get wet at a Coldplay show/What could be worse?
All Points West
Aug 1-2, Liberty State Park, NJ
I thought I could escape the murky conditions that plague U.K. festivals by attending All Points West, but rain and mud made a transatlantic trip, turning the weekend into a damp experience. Skipping stormy Friday, I trekked from Manhattan to New Jersey and kicked off Saturday with Arctic Monkeys. Against the backdrop of the Statue of Liberty, Turner and Co. started their set with ‘Pretty Visitors,’ which has a guitar-crunching chorus tailor-made for live performances. They sprinted through ‘Brianstorm,’ then introduced ‘Potion Approaching,’ another new addition that sadly lacked ‘Visitors’ punch. ‘Fluorescent Adolescent’ got the crowd going and was followed by ‘Cornerstone,’ possibly my favorite track from Humbug. Other standouts were slinky ‘My Propeller’ and perennial favorite ‘I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor.’ Strangely, the song tempo sometimes lagged, so the sense of witty urgency that characterizes the Monkeys didn’t always translate.
A wander across the park brought me to Chairlift, closing with ‘Bruises,’ the single made famous on U.S. iPod ads. The rest of their set was unremarkable, stronger for its instrumentals than for Caroline Polacheck’s occasionally shrill vocals. Tokyo Police Club woke the post-Chairlift crowd with energetic performance, which my friends and I voted a pleasant surprise.
Tool was Saturday’s headliner, but I opted for Crystal Castles along with the rest of the attendees not wearing Tool t-shirts (apparently a prerequisite for their gigs). Alice Glass appeared waving a spotlight above her head to compliment the stark lights that synced with their chilly electro. Highlights included ‘Crimewave,’ cleverly echoed in stuttering samples throughout the set, and crowd favorite ‘Courtship Dating.’ Glass, despite her frenetic, equipment-climbing energy, was entirely drowned out by Ethan Kath’s compelling layers of fuzzy sound and shrill keyboard. In spite of this, the crowd was one of the most hyped of the weekend and the set made a great end to day one.
Sunday morning downpours churned the ground into an inexplicably foul-smelling sea of mud that worsened as the day went on. My long-suffering friends and I caught the end of Silversun Pickups, who were unexpectedly high-energy given their laid back album vibe. Underwhelmed, I left after ‘Lazy Eye’ and sloshed off to We Are Scientists, whose older tracks got the most crowd response. ‘Nobody Move, Nobody Get Hurt’ was by far the favorite, although I was disappointed that a late start abbreviated them to six tracks.
Mud rising steadily, I trekked to the main stage. With the rain over, the crowd sprawled on ponchos and raincoats to see Elbow, Echo and the Bunnymen, and headliner Coldplay. I arrived to find Guy Garvey introducing ‘Grounds for Divorce,’ a perfect song for large festival crowds. ‘Divorce’ combined with sweeping, violin-tinged closer ‘On a Day Like This’ put Elbow in competition for the technically strongest band of the weekend.
Brooding Echo and the Bunnymen seemed subdued in comparison. Opener ‘Lips Like Sugar’ was my favorite track, although the pair in front of me enthusiastically doing yoga (yes, seriously, not a euphemism, actually doing yoga) preferred a sparkling version of ‘Bring on the Dancing Horses.’ They closed with what Ian McCulloch called a ‘holy trinity’ including ‘The Killing Moon’ and wonderfully dark ‘The Cutter.’
The sun set before Coldplay, who opened with booming ‘Violet Hill,’ followed by the angular lasers of ‘Clocks’ against Manhattan’s skyline. Chris Martin proclaimed APW “the strangest smelling festival,” altering the lyrics of ‘Fix You’ to “When your feet get wet at a Coldplay show/ What could be worse?” They included a gorgeous take on ‘Lovers in Japan’ and a cluster of acoustic songs played in the crowd, including a decent but unremarkable cover of ‘Billie Jean’ ‘The Scientist’ was an ideal encore, with the crowd singing along as the festival concluded.
I skipped the middle of Coldplay to see MGMT. Ankles submerged in disconcertingly warm mud and surrounded by bandanas and paisley, I caught the second half of ‘Of Moons, Birds, and Monsters’ splendidly psychedelic guitars, the terrific crescendos of ‘Weekend Wars,’ and new track ‘It’s Working.’ ‘Kids’ was sharp and catchy, and ‘Electric Feel’ was enjoyable, although it suffered from nasal vocals. I rejoined my friends and we made our way out through the mix of bog and murky, oceanic puddles. As we crossed the central swamp my sandal was ripped apart by the sticky mud and became my final apparel casualty. I headed back to Manhattan soggy and shoeless but satisfied.
Aug 1-2, Liberty State Park, NJ
I thought I could escape the murky conditions that plague U.K. festivals by attending All Points West, but rain and mud made a transatlantic trip, turning the weekend into a damp experience. Skipping stormy Friday, I trekked from Manhattan to New Jersey and kicked off Saturday with Arctic Monkeys. Against the backdrop of the Statue of Liberty, Turner and Co. started their set with ‘Pretty Visitors,’ which has a guitar-crunching chorus tailor-made for live performances. They sprinted through ‘Brianstorm,’ then introduced ‘Potion Approaching,’ another new addition that sadly lacked ‘Visitors’ punch. ‘Fluorescent Adolescent’ got the crowd going and was followed by ‘Cornerstone,’ possibly my favorite track from Humbug. Other standouts were slinky ‘My Propeller’ and perennial favorite ‘I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor.’ Strangely, the song tempo sometimes lagged, so the sense of witty urgency that characterizes the Monkeys didn’t always translate.
A wander across the park brought me to Chairlift, closing with ‘Bruises,’ the single made famous on U.S. iPod ads. The rest of their set was unremarkable, stronger for its instrumentals than for Caroline Polacheck’s occasionally shrill vocals. Tokyo Police Club woke the post-Chairlift crowd with energetic performance, which my friends and I voted a pleasant surprise.
Tool was Saturday’s headliner, but I opted for Crystal Castles along with the rest of the attendees not wearing Tool t-shirts (apparently a prerequisite for their gigs). Alice Glass appeared waving a spotlight above her head to compliment the stark lights that synced with their chilly electro. Highlights included ‘Crimewave,’ cleverly echoed in stuttering samples throughout the set, and crowd favorite ‘Courtship Dating.’ Glass, despite her frenetic, equipment-climbing energy, was entirely drowned out by Ethan Kath’s compelling layers of fuzzy sound and shrill keyboard. In spite of this, the crowd was one of the most hyped of the weekend and the set made a great end to day one.
Sunday morning downpours churned the ground into an inexplicably foul-smelling sea of mud that worsened as the day went on. My long-suffering friends and I caught the end of Silversun Pickups, who were unexpectedly high-energy given their laid back album vibe. Underwhelmed, I left after ‘Lazy Eye’ and sloshed off to We Are Scientists, whose older tracks got the most crowd response. ‘Nobody Move, Nobody Get Hurt’ was by far the favorite, although I was disappointed that a late start abbreviated them to six tracks.
Mud rising steadily, I trekked to the main stage. With the rain over, the crowd sprawled on ponchos and raincoats to see Elbow, Echo and the Bunnymen, and headliner Coldplay. I arrived to find Guy Garvey introducing ‘Grounds for Divorce,’ a perfect song for large festival crowds. ‘Divorce’ combined with sweeping, violin-tinged closer ‘On a Day Like This’ put Elbow in competition for the technically strongest band of the weekend.
Brooding Echo and the Bunnymen seemed subdued in comparison. Opener ‘Lips Like Sugar’ was my favorite track, although the pair in front of me enthusiastically doing yoga (yes, seriously, not a euphemism, actually doing yoga) preferred a sparkling version of ‘Bring on the Dancing Horses.’ They closed with what Ian McCulloch called a ‘holy trinity’ including ‘The Killing Moon’ and wonderfully dark ‘The Cutter.’
The sun set before Coldplay, who opened with booming ‘Violet Hill,’ followed by the angular lasers of ‘Clocks’ against Manhattan’s skyline. Chris Martin proclaimed APW “the strangest smelling festival,” altering the lyrics of ‘Fix You’ to “When your feet get wet at a Coldplay show/ What could be worse?” They included a gorgeous take on ‘Lovers in Japan’ and a cluster of acoustic songs played in the crowd, including a decent but unremarkable cover of ‘Billie Jean’ ‘The Scientist’ was an ideal encore, with the crowd singing along as the festival concluded.
I skipped the middle of Coldplay to see MGMT. Ankles submerged in disconcertingly warm mud and surrounded by bandanas and paisley, I caught the second half of ‘Of Moons, Birds, and Monsters’ splendidly psychedelic guitars, the terrific crescendos of ‘Weekend Wars,’ and new track ‘It’s Working.’ ‘Kids’ was sharp and catchy, and ‘Electric Feel’ was enjoyable, although it suffered from nasal vocals. I rejoined my friends and we made our way out through the mix of bog and murky, oceanic puddles. As we crossed the central swamp my sandal was ripped apart by the sticky mud and became my final apparel casualty. I headed back to Manhattan soggy and shoeless but satisfied.
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