112?!

Apologies for not posting anything for the past month. I will post new writings shortly, and there are many pieces to post! Firstly, I wanted to congratulate everyone who I worked with on the Barack Obama campaign. We did it! I enjoyed every minute of canvassing, phone banking and sharing stories with all of you.

Secondly, I wanted to share a link to today's BBC. I have the day off work because of Veteran's Day here in the States. For much of the world, it is Armistice Day, the celebration of the end of WWI. Today marks the 90th anniversary, and this article highlights the four oldest veterans of the war. They are ages 112, 110, 108 and 107. To me, it is unbelievable that these four are still living. I cannot imagine what horrors they faced in the trenches. For them to still be with us to tell the tale is a cause for celebration. I do not believe that war is just and I am not into military history like some people. But I recognize the difficulty that these four people faced and hope that my children will never have to face such horror. They fought so we don't have to. I hope that I live to be 112...

The Console War Shake Things Up With New E.P.

These are perilous times by no stretch of the imagination. People are losing their savings, consumer confidence is at its lowest levels in decades and the term “indie” has very little to do with bands who set out on an independent path of distribution and touring. We are living in the age of the digital download, where most only listen to their compiled tracks in transit. Mind you, there is nothing wrong with that. The ease and convenience of a download has revolutionized the way we approach and listen to music. But as songwriter Bob Mould recently said, “We are living in an age where music isn’t sacred.” Rarely do we sit alone or in good company listening to an album, taking it in. The Console War’s new E.P. “Cut the Cables” is an exception.

The D.C. duo of Brian Young (guitars, loops, keys, vocals) and Billy Copps (drums, keys, vocals) has always had an affinity for the ethereal, cerebral and angular. Both have been in numerous bands together for the better part of this decade and formed the ‘War in 2005. After their formidable 2007 debut L.P., “Shards,” they played numerous shows in the D.C. area and were back at work on this year’s “Cut the Cables” E.P. The five songs pack a punch that has been rare in this year’s releases.

“Cut the Cables” functions as an air tight unit that should be taken in one sitting. Each track builds on the last, culminating with the demented carnivalesque keyboard drone, thundering toms and looped guitars of “Lines of Communication,” the set’s most emotionally wrenching. The middle half engulfs Kraftwerk’s hypnotic rhythms (“Cut the Cables”) as well as the hauntingly sparse abstractions of Slint and other Touch & Go bands from the 90s like Don Caballero. “Ship of State” is a solid midpoint showing a band who can build layers of momentum while keeping listeners waiting for the next turn.

“View From Down Here” is a gem. A dead ringer for the seminal D.C. group Beauty Pill, it also evokes the ethereal quality of early 90s English shoegazers Slowdive with Young’s fuzzed out guitar loops at the end. “Pipe or Gun,” sets the tone as the opener with Copps’ eerie electronic work and deafening drum breaks mid-song.

Ultimately, “Cut the Cables” shows lots of promise for this sonically tight duo. Sitting in a room with the lights out as it blares from the stereo is enough to make us feel that music can indeed be sacred again.

Listen at www.myspace.com/theconsolewar.

The stars at night, are big and bright...

17.07.08 6ish a.m. en route to Milwaukee Int'l Airport en route to Dallas, TX

The flight was kind of surreal because there were only six people on board…I counted. I felt uneasy because there was a creepy middle-aged woman who was ticketed in the back of the plane, but moved up to the seat in the row directly next to mine and I kept seeing her stare out of my periphery. Haven’t you seen anyone read a book lady?

This is a completely random observation, but U2’s first album, “Boy,” is freaking superb. It is such a shame that this band, who were as punk and edgy (no pun intended) as anyone turned into this caricature of their former selves. On the other hand, that may just be Bone-O, (sorry, Bono) since everyone else in the band is at his mercy. But this record, “War,” and “Joshua Tree” were such great records that the rest of their horrid career doesn’t even matter.

Ireland in the 1980s was a volatile time, and U2 were the musical nonconformists who gave the Irish people hope in a time of hopelessness. It was practically a pariah state, regarded as the most underdeveloped nation in Western Europe. It is a miracle how in 2008, Ireland is one of the most prosperous nations on Earth. It’s about time after 800 plus years of English oppression and civil war. To say that this was all heavy shit is an understatement, but at least we have “Boy.”

To all of the naysayers---pick up a copy of “Boy.” The Edge’s guitar work is truly gorgeous and his tone is near perfect. Bono sounded like a punk rock siren in those days, belting out every line as if his life depended on it. Larry Mullen’s drumming is superb and thick and Adam Clayton’s sparse bass work sets a darker tone than on any other record that they have made, save “War.”

I never thought that these guys would give me the chills, but after listening to the epic centerpiece “An Cat Dubh,” I am trembling.

21.07.08 9:53 a.m. Milwaukee Int’l Airport

I am still reading The Fish Can Sing, another Halldor Laxness novel. It is a mix of Kurt Vonnegut’s wry wit with Gabriel Garcia-Marquez’s poetics.

On Friday, Jamie and I left for Austin. I had wanted to go there for years. Ever since I got into music and heard about SXSW it was always somewhere that I had to see. The three hour drive from Dallas was more impressive than I thought it would be. After the hour-long trek out of Dallas city limits (it sprawls forever…and ever) the bigger sky leads way to vast open spaces with nothing more than a few barns on the horizon. The Texan countryside is mainly grassland, unlike other rural areas that I am familiar with. Any crops would probably be scorched from the blistering summer sun. Humongous Cumulus clouds are layered like cakes and stand frozen in time. It is a nice snapshot of what Texas probably was in the days of the cattle outposts.

The landscape is barren, but not as arid as images of Texas may conjure. The true desert does not begin until west Texas, which is easily a good 10 hour drive in light traffic. It is also not like the pancake flat plains of Dallas, which more closely resembles the Midwest but with more buildings. These grasslands are semi-arid and look like deserts with short, bristly grass and those squat, nubby trees that would not be out-of-place on the Serengeti or other savannahs.

At dusk with our tune blasting, nothing else mattered. The golden and red colors at the horizon made the 105F (40.5 C) day bearable. Austin was smaller than I expected, but was excellent nevertheless. Almost all of the quirky shops, bars, and venues were on 6^th street, which also leads up to the Texas State Capitol building. Again at dusk, the view of the Capitol, which is on a slight incline, is breathtaking.

Jamie and I had dinner at a Vietnamese restaurant on 6^th street and we both ordered their Pho to see how it compared to other places. The décor was pretty trendy and pretentious. The wall was covered in huge blow-up 16 X 24 NYC photos. The Pho was great, but not as good as my Pho place in Cleveland! Note to everyone- Pho Hoa (or Superior Pho) is the best Vietnamese place ever.

We must have walked up and down the main drag a dozen times, people watching and looking for somewhere without shitty music to get a drink. Naturally, the weekend that I go there are no good gigs coming to Austin. I guess I will just have to go back in the fall when everyone and their mom will be playing! So we opted for hanging out in a green space near the Capitol and watched an insane homeless man who looked like he escaped from a psych ward minutes before (still wearing his hospital scrubs) got on a city bus. After that, we finally settled on a bar, but left within five minutes because there was no AC and the temp was still ridiculous. So we hopped to another bar but it was creepy and empty. Finally there was a cozy spot with a middle-of-the-road alt rock cover band playing and we had a couple of beers and talked about random things. It is crappy to be in a long-distance relationship, but it is so true that the time you do spend together is so much more valuable!

Drained from the day, we drove back to our campsite after that one bar. Yes, we went camping in Texas in July…why?! Because we are warriors! No, but seriously, it was unforgiving and I will never do that again in such punishing heat.

The tent was easily 20 degrees hotter because there was no breeze at night and we had to keep it zipped so critters wouldn’t come in. It was one of the worst nights of sleep in my life, no question. I couldn’t get cool and the sweat wasn’t evaporating off of my skin and all I could think of was that this must be what Malaria is like.

For a first proper camping experience (you heard that correctly) I had a great time. There is no one better to go with than Jamie, who has been doing it since she was in the womb practically. I learned from the master! I eventually drifted into a light sleep and woke up the next morning to those perfect skies that described on the trip down here. I also couldn’t stop taking photos of the wild cacti that grew like weeds around the perimeter of the state park. We packed up shop and headed south to San Antonio.

…………………………………………………..

It took about an hour and-a-half to get to San Antonio from Austin. It is decidedly different because it looks more like a colonial Mexican city. It is also surprisingly compact and the Alamo sits in the center of town, unlike in a vast field of nothing as Hollywood would like you to believe. It was crawling with tourists, surprise, surprise.

The river walk was pleasant but looks artificial, even though it is real. We had a late lunch that this ridiculously good Mexican restaurant. It is pretty much as close to authentic as you can get in the States because San Antonio is about three and-a-half hours from the border. Fresh tortillas, tomatillo enchiladas, sweet chips and Tecate beer hit the spot times 800. Being so far south makes me want to visit Mexico more. Mexican culture permeates the city not only in the food but in the people---we saw dozens of cars with Mexican license plates. San Antonio is a winner and I will be back!

21 July 2008, en route back to Cleveland

I don’t understand business travelers. Seeing people fiddle about with Excel spreadsheets and Blackberry’s on board my early morning flight back up north got my gears grinding. Shouldn’t they have prepared for whatever they needed to do prior to their flight?

To the uptight dude sitting diagonally from me:

Honestly, is it that difficult for you to relax for TWO FREAKING HOURS? I don’t care what you do for a living, but no one is *that* busy. If you aren’t prepared for your presentation, client meeting or what have you by the time that you are mid air to your destination, don’t you think that your chances of being prepared when you land and arrive at your destination are SLIM-TO-NONE?! Read a book that you have been itching to read for a while or catch up on sleep for godsake!

Probably My Son Tune

After 10 years of recording and playing gigs, I am finally signed to a record label (albeit small!) Well, kind of...

The song "Worth Every While" will appear on the upcoming Series Two Records compilation. It is based out of Omaha, NB and the guy who puts out the records/ compilations also does booking for bands worldwide, so hopefully some doors will open. I am cautiously optimistic.

Other bands on this comp. are from Croatia, Germany, Canada, Denmark, New Zealand, Indonesia, Japan, Norway, Finland, US, Mexico, etc. It should be interesting to see where this goes!

The mornings are always young

I just finished reading Independent People by Halldor Laxness. Check it out if you dig Garcia-Marquez or Faulkner.

That jukebox in the corner blastin' out my favorite song...

...the nights are getting warmer, it won't be long
won't be long 'till summer comes...
now that the boys are here again

I just wanted to add that it is so difficult when I take walks and blast Thin Lizzy on my iPod because I really want to pump my fist in the air and do air guitar, but don't want to be taken for insane. Yep, Phil Lynott has that intense of an effect on me.

I love "Jailbreak" to pieces. In addition (but unrelated), I just heard the greatest New Order compilation ever. It has 7" and 12" alternate versions of every single that they released in their 27 year career. It is simply called "Singles" and has a leaf on the cover. Check it out!

No habitat

I was just thinking the other day about how much I miss record shops. I used to work in a grocery store and I would get tips from old ladies and suburbanites because we had a service where you could pull up to the curb and have your groceries loaded into your car (but that can be an entirely different story). Every week, I would save up all of my tips and go to the record store to peruse the aisles. Since they have been declining steadily in sales around the country, there are fewer places to visit and the joy of the mom and pop record store is rapidly becoming a faded memory.

I think that everyone has their own store. Mine was My Generation on the west side of Cleveland. It closed its doors four years ago after staying in business for two decades. A part of me died. Now I go to Borders and sometimes see other My Generation regulars, thumbing through the new releases, leaving empty handed.

We are like deer without habitat.