Dim City

The 30 Best Discs of 2010

2011-02-08T15:30:00.037-05:00

30. Buy The Ticket, Take The Ride - The Black Ryder (Mexican Summer)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Grass", "To Never Know You", "All That We See"

I have to admit that my like of The Black Ryder's debut album is largely nostalgic. Reminding me much of the old '90s dreamy shoegazer bands I loved so much, this Australian duo really does pay homage to that genre across the eleven tracks here. Channeling My Bloody Valentine, Slowdive, and Mazzy Star, the songs are formulaic in that old shoegazer fashion, but you would expect and want nothing different. The slow whispery vocals of Aimee Nash start off over methodical, plodding, soft-ish music, then the crash of noise, droning, during the middle of the song before finishing as it started. Rinse, repeat. But it's not boring at all and, despite its musical repetition (on which shoegazer was built anyway) it satisfies. Adding a nice twist is the inclusion of occasional male vocals provided by the other half of the duo, Scott Van Ryper, which would be a fantastic porn name, by the way. The Black Ryder might not be everyone's style, but if you miss those days of fuzzed out, atmospheric rock which provided a great soundtrack to early adulthood ennui, do yourself a favor. Buy the album and take the ride.

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29. Black Dub - Black Dub (Jive)
Put these on your iPod right now: "I Believe In You", "Nomad", "Surely"

The latest project led by musician/producer Daniel Lanois is a smoky, sultry, soulful affair. Powered by the mature-beyond-her-hears Trixie Whitley, who sings lead on most of the self-titled album's eleven tracks, Lanois and company definitely are masters of creating a mood. The music here is nicely separated - all of the instruments are easily discernable and the band does wonderful work using space and silence. Daryl Johnson's bass work here is particularly impressive - the good kind of filthy bass lines that just make your ears perk up. But the atmosphere created here is really what shines through. There is a consistent groove in the music and it's hard to not marvel at how all the instrumental elements mesh so well with Whitley's otherworldly vocals. And if Whitley is the front-and-center star, Lanois definitely is the Wizard of Oz in the background, crafting, executing, and producing a real audio treat. It might be hard to categorize Black Dub and it may also be a disc that requires a certain "mood" in able to fully enjoy, but once you get into that mood, enjoy it you will.

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28. World Travels Fast - Decibully (Polyvinyl)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Let's Not Fight", "Weakest Kind Of Heart", "Get In The Car"

The third proper full-length from Milwaukee's indie rock outfit Decibully is an exercise in song construction. Particularly impressive with the thirteen tracks here is is the depth of the music - multi-layered and sometimes discordant. Never losing sight of melody, however, the six-piece never sounds muddled or overwrought, rather, focused and purposeful. Mixing in ambient sounds and noise with pop hooks and William Seidel's unique, higher-register vocals, the band is effortlessly able to run the musical gamut. While the more up-tempo numbers like "Let's Not Fight" and "Get In The Car" are obvious strong tracks, the band is also able to get the most out of the more experimental droning tunes here (like "Broken Glass"). Points for a great band name notwithstanding, World Travels Fast doesn't need to rely on pure volume or aggression to get its musical point across. Instead, Seidel and company embrace sound and melody as a whole and produces what is shamefully probably the least known entry on the list.

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27. Catching A Tiger - Lissie (Fat Possum)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Worried About", "Look Away", "Loosen The Knot"

What a voice. There's a little bit of blues and attitude in there, but make no mistake. Despite some edge, it's pristine and perfect. She always knows just what note to hit. The Illinois-born Elisabeth Maurus makes some serious inroads into the realm of the female singer/songwriter sorority with this, her debut full-length release. Everything from piano ballads to rock tunes are here and each song more than shows off her powerful and arresting vocals. The great thing about Lissie's instrument here is just how effortlessly she seems to sing - whether she is whispering or belting out the note of her life, she is in complete control, driving the song with vocals. The songwriting here is also impressive. A lot of pop (if you aren't already hearing this on the radio, you should be soon) amidst the smoky voice, Catching A Tiger is a stirring first effort from Lissie. A definite peek into an artist poised to take off.

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26. Hawk - Isobel Campbell & Mark Lanegan (Vanguard)
Put these on your iPod right now: "You Won't Let Me Down Again", "We Die And See Beauty Reign", "To Hell And Back Again"

The continued, strange, beauty and the beast relationship of Campbell and Lanegan returns with yet another solid offering, their third. Campbell and Lanegan have mastered this dynamic: she of the ethereal, angelic whispering, he of the big bad wolf, whiskey and cigarette-ravaged growl, all behind minor keys and acoustic Americana. With help from folkie Willy Mason, Campbell and Lanegan vocally dance throughout the album's fourteen tracks, with the strongest being the more sparse and sinister compositions. The upbeat "Lately", complete with some striking gospel-tinged soul background vocals is mildly out of place among the doom and gloom, but is also a welcome respite and nice change of pace. I'm not sure how much longer this partnership is going to last, but Campbell and Lanegan have definitely found a successful formula - one that touches upon each of their strengths as vocalists and demonstrates the stark contrasts in their styles and does it with haunting and interesting tunes.

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Previous list appearances: Ballad Of The Broken Seas (#5 in 2006), Sunday At Devil Dirt (#15 in 2008)

25. Transference - Spoon (Merge)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Before Destruction", "Written In Reverse", "Got Nuffin"

A little more stripped-down and low-fi than more recent works, Spoon's latest certainly satisfies with catchy hooks interspersed in these eleven songs that are a bit unconventional. Shying away from typical verse-chorus-verse song construction doesn't make the album less of a pop success. Occasionally bratty vocals, staccato drums, jangly rhythms, and guitar bursts punctuate each song and while there might not be as much melody and "hum-ability" in these tunes, they certainly give credence to the age-old adage that sometimes less is more. It might take a little while to totally appreciate what Spoon accomplishes on Transference, but if you are looking for something a little deeper than your run-of-the-mill formulaic pop, you'll find this offering quite satisfying.

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24. Mastermind - Monster Magnet (Napalm)
Put these on your iPod right now: "Hallucination Bomb", "Mastermind", "100 Million Miles"

Monster Magnet frontman Dave Wyndorf knows what he likes. And what he likes is trippy, heavy, stoner space rock. With extra cheese. And the latest from this band from Jersey proves Wyndorf to be the master of providing what he likes. All the elements of a classic Monster Magnet album are here. The enigmatic apocalyptic lyrics, the outstanding guitar crunch, and especially Wyndorf's pitch-perfect voice, which I maintain is one of hard rock's best. While more recent Mag releases tended to shy a bit away from the psychedelic sounds of the band's earlier efforts, Mastermind shows Wyndorf and company back to embracing it all, mixing it up, and producing something on par with the band's strongest releases. The sinister undertone to the songs does little to overshadow the cheeseball bombast, but something tells me Dave wouldn't have it any other way. If you are searching for a hard rock album that could have sounded just as viable 15 years ago as it does now, Mastermind is for you.

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Previous list appearances: Powertrip (#4 in 1998), God Says No (#10 in 2001), Monolithic Baby! (#15 in 2004), 4-Way Diablo (#25 in 2007)

23. I Learned The Hard Way - Sharon Jones & The Dap Kings (Daptone)
Put these on your iPod right now: "Give It Back", "The Game Gets Old", "I'll Still Be True"

2010 will be known as the year Sharon Jones "landed", but followers of the 54-year-old funk/soul singer will tell you she has been putting out some nasty (in a good way) retro funk/blues/soul with her band, the Dap Kings, for almost ten years. A gifted and powerful singer, Jones propels each of the dozen songs here solely with her voice. The band, tight, perfect, and talented, often shrinks a little in the background, but that's less an indictment on them and more a testament to Jones' vocals. Fans of Jones' live shows might need some time to adjust to I Learned The Hard Way. The record is more of a slow, soul burn which is significantly different than her fierce and ferocious live shows. But if you can accept that the release is a jumping off point for the live renditions of these songs, you can definitely hear it for what it is: a fantastic retro funk/soul/blues amalgam of a record.

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22. Warp Riders - The Sword (Kemado)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Arrows In The Dark", "Tres Brujas", "Lawless Lands"

If you like your metal with a lot less screaming and a little more melody, look no further than Austin, Texas' The Sword. And while the vocals thankfully sacrifice the guttural belches of much of their metal brethren, Warp Riders does not give up one iota in providing face-melting fury. The riffs here are thick and heavy - classic metal with a little bit of stoner rock mixed in. The guitar solos pierce through the sludge and combine for a great headbanging experience. Throw in the perfect amount of cheese and bombast (how can you go wrong with song titles like "The Chronomancer I: Hubris"?) and what's left is a solid hard rock record that dusts its growling counterparts far behind. One might argue that the album itself is a little one-dimensional, but when that one dimension is 100% Kick Assery, who can complain?

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21. Aim and Ignite - fun. (Nettwerk)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Be Calm", "Benson Hedges", Take Your Time (Coming Home)"

A clue to the strength of this record is the fact that I got it late December and it already managed to make an impression. Difficult to categorize, the first full length release from New York's Nate Ruess and friends is a pop delight, mixing dance beats, quirky songwriting, and even some Queen bombast into an easily digestible collection. It's, ahem, a fun record - energetic and catchy and even sometimes poignant ("The Gambler".) While Ruess' reckless abandon vocals might take a little bit to get used to, once you settle into Aim and Ignite's groove, it's a wonderful ride. The arrangements and orchestration are impressive and just the overall mood crafted by the band is one of wonderment. I wish I had a little more time to spend with this before the list came out, because I think it would have placed higher, but clocking in where it does, on very limited listenings, is a testament to its quality.

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20. The Five Ghosts - Stars (Vagrant)
Put these on your iPod right now: "Dead Hearts", "Fixed", "I Died So I Could Haunt You"

On the heels of 2007's masterful and grandiose In Our Bedroom After The War, this Canadian quintet continues to churn out emotional pop albums that expertly utilize genres like electronica and borderline dance music to paint an interesting musical landscape. The Five Ghosts is a mostly dreamy, ethereal affair - what you would expect from the album's name. And drawing on great songwriting and the vocal interplay of Torquil Campbell and Amy Millan, the tunes are a brilliant mixture of being sonically lush and eerily sparse. Delicate piano and strings round out the mellower tunes while electronic drums punctuate the more up-tempo numbers. The Five Ghosts further solidifies Stars' place in the underrated pop artists pantheon and is also proof of a band hitting their creative stride.

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Previous list appearances: In Our Bedroom After The War (#4 in 2007)

19. Shame Shame - Dr. Dog (Anti)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Someday", "Stranger", "Later"

Shame, shame on you if you don't know Dr. Dog. The Philly band's fifth proper full length release is full of all the usual psych-pop hooks and energy of their previous offerings. And while the band hasn't necessarily made tremendous musical leaps since 2008's excellent Fate, there's absolutely nothing wrong with a "if it ain't broke, don't fix it" mentality when it sounds this good. There's a bit of a '60s psychedelic undertone to a lot of the songs here - discernable piano, excellent group vocals - yet the collection of eleven songs never sounds dated. Lead guitarist Scott McMicken and bassist Toby Leaman share lead vocal duties, but make no mistake - the Dr. Dog sound is a true, full collaborative effort. The compositions are lively get the toes tapping, but the true strength is just the solid melodies and great songwriting. The funny thing, especially with Shame Shame, is you could listen to each song and say, "That sounds like ________." But the band you fill in the blank with changes track to track and at the end of the day, Dr. Dog might sound like a lot of bands out there. But no one band can sound like them.

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Previous list appearances: Fate (#8 in 2008)

18. The Monitor - Titus Andronicus (XL)

Put these on your iPod right now: "A More Perfect Union", "A Pot In Which To Piss", "Four Score And Seven"

Fuzzy, raucous, and sometimes disturbing, this loosely conceptual album by New Jersey's Titus Andronicus is filled with a drunken swagger that is surprisingly cohesive. The lyrics are delivered with a gravelly bark, so as to invoke sitting in a filthy pub swinging your stein in the air. Never shying away from a lengthy tune, the band manages to extract a fine, straight-ahead rock record from the discordant chaos all while riffing on Springsteen and Velvet Underground lyrics to construct what seems to be a record that fuses Civil War themes with the present day, and even a mention of a Fung Wah bus. And if that isn't worth at least one listen, I'm not sure what is.

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17. You (Understood) - Samantha Crain (Ramseur)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Two-Sidedness", "Equinox", "Religious Wind"

The latest offering from Oklahoman Samantha Crain is a complex, mature folk rock collection. Amazingly, Crain is only 24, but her compositions and oddly unique voice seemingly belong to an artist well beyond her years. Crain proves she is growing as an artist and there are definitely some welcomed veers off the traditional folk path here - guitar solos, some interesting discord, and even a vocal part that is more rap than croon ("Toothpicks") really accentuate how far out of the genre Crain is daring to go. Weirdly, the album has a little trouble finding its groove at first, but its placement in this list is testament to how great that groove actually is once it is found. You (Understood) walks a fine line here - it could be considered too rocking to satisfy the hardcore folkies and a little too restrained for folks who like a heavier edge to their rock. But songs like the outstanding "Two-Sidedness" really show Crain not being concerned with such labels and, instead, making a record that showcases her ample talent.

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Previous list appearances: Songs In The Night (with the Midnight Shivers) (#22 in 2009)

16. 1,000 Years - The Corin Tucker Band (Kill Rock Stars)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Doubt", "1,000 Years", "Half A World Away"

Sleater-Kinney's former front woman returns from a musical hiatus with a richly satisfying and mature rock record. While the oppressive musical crunch and high pitched wails from S-K's swan song The Woods are long gone and hard to find, where 1,000 Years succeeds is just how measurable Tucker's musical growth is since the Portland-via-Olympia trio disbanded four years ago. There are some remnants of the Sleater-Kinney sound here and Tucker unleashes her trademarked howl a couple of times, but the record remains edgy despite its restraint. Whether it's the bratty pop of "Doubt" or the droning of "Big Goodbye", 1,000 Years is a triumphant return for Tucker. And, like most S-K fans, I'm left wanting just a LITTLE more rock and just a LITTLE more wail, but this release solidifies the fact that a mature, restrained Corin Tucker is still infinitely better than no Corin Tucker at all.

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15. Treats - Sleigh Bells (Mom & Pop Music)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Tell 'Em", "Riot Rhythm", "Infinity Guitars"

This Brooklyn, NY duo's debut a pure noise pop delight. Genre-defying, Derek E. Miller's crunching guitars combined with Alexis Krauss' angelic vocals run the gamut of metal, dance, bubblegum pop, and everything in between. The songs are relatively short, but pack a wallop in their time. Treats starts off with an immediate explosion of sound and never lets up, even culminating in the minute-and-a-half thrash of "Straight A's." For all their noise, the tunes here are quite catchy, relying on the wall of Miller's guitars and processors all fighting it out with Krauss' floating voice for your attention. While the lyrics won't win any acclaim from the Neil Pearts of the rock world, there's something about the immaturity of the content, coupled with the intelligence of the music that makes Treats endearing and a fun 2010 release.

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14. Mines - Menomena (Barsuk)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Taos", "Oh Pretty Boy, You're Such a Big Boy", "Queen Black Acid"

It's a little hard to put your finger on Menomena. They sure do like their noise. But they also like their quiet. Maybe that's what makes Mines, the band's fourth full-length release so enjoyable. It can be rowdy and loud ("Taos") as well as quieter and pensive ("Intil") with neither outplaying the other. Never sacrificing melody for discord, the impressive production here (done by the band themselves) excels in showcasing all of the many instruments employed by the trio. Nothing is drowned out, nothing deemed unimportant enough to not hear. Particularly nice are the consistently rolling drums and the complicated bass lines that appear throughout. There's a ton going on here and it may take you a few listens to hear everything Menomena meant for you to hear. But with an album this strong and audibly diverse, listening multiple times is a welcomed activity, rather than a chore. There is a restless pace to the tunes and, when it all ends, you miss the franticness and want it to come back. Which is the hallmark of an excellent record.

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13. Sigh No More - Mumford & Sons (Glass Note)
Put these on your iPod right now: "The Cave", "Thistle And Weeds", "Roll Away Your Stone"

London-based quartet Mumford & Sons are a polarizing band and, fittingly, so is their debut album of a dozen indie folk rock tracks. You're either into that kind of folk rock scene or you aren't, and if that genre ain't your cup of tea, there's nothing I can do to convince you this is a good album. But, if you happen to like this sort of thing, Sigh No More is a stunning and emotional release, worthy of praise and placement in some of the genre's best work over the years. While some of the lyrics may seem forced, what is really impressive is the musical depth of the songs. Relying on acoustic guitars, banjos, mandolins and the like to tell the stories here, the band is tight and streamlined and the entire offering benefits from repeated listenings. Not perfect, but thoroughly enjoyable, Sigh No More is an excellent start to a career. As the band further develops their songwriting chops, one can see the slight flaws in their game slowly going away. If their debut can't convert new fans of the indie folk movement, it wouldn't be surprising if the next one did.

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12. The Ghost Who Walks - Karen Elson (XL/Third Man)
Put these on your iPod right now: "The Truth Is In The Dirt", "Stolen Roses", "Mouths To Feed"

If I told you that Karen Elson is a British model who is married to White Stripe and all-around musical genius Jack White and that she put out a record this year, what would you think? What would you expect? Would you believe it would be an extraordinarily strong release that merits inclusion in my ultra-exclusive best-of list? You'd better. Elson's debut effort is hauntingly retro, expertly calling upon her songwriting (yes, songwriting) strength of perfectly crafting Appalachian murder ballads and gothic folk. While White's musical presence is hard to deny here, he very much stays in the background and lets Elson's unwavering voice and surprisingly complex compositions steal the show. If you find yourself considering this release, do yourself a favor and look around for the bonus tracks, because tunes like "Mouths to Feed" and the iTunes-only "In Trouble With The Lord" are far from throwaway songs. Elson proves here she is way more than just another pretty face. Another release like this and she might end up being known as "that musician who also models" instead of the other way around.

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11. Infinite Arms - Band Of Horses (Fat Possum/Columbia)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Loredo", "Factory", "Compliments"

Quite possibly the most mainstream record on this list. I'm not really sure what impresses me so much about this, the Seattle quintet's third full release. The songs structures are simple, for the most part. There's not a noticeable sharp musical edge. The lyrics aren't challenging. But maybe now that I think about it - perhaps those are precisely the reasons why I do enjoy this record so much. It's dreamy, comfortable, and familiar. It's an easy listen, chock full of great melodies and vocal harmonies. Not every great album has to feature a whacked out time signature or an eight minute theremin solo. Not every great album is sometimes a chore to plow through. Sometimes, a dozen of so really good songs is simply enough. Then, once you tack on the textured orchestration - there's enough going on to keep you interested, but not enough to be oppressive - you're left with a surprisingly solid album. What leader Ben Bridwell and the boys have wrought here is not an edgy album, but solid just the same.

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10. We Are Born - Sia (Jive)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Stop Trying", "Clap Your Hands", "Big Girl Little Girl"

Sia Furler unquestionably possesses one of the most captivating and unique voices in music today. She doesn't hold back in her latest release either, instead completely unleashing it amidst a storm of upbeat electro-pop dance music. Fans of Sia's previous releases might find the tempo of We Are Born a little jarring as largely missing are the softer, contemplative pieces (save an amazing cover of Madonna's "Oh Father") in favor of toe-tapping and side-to-side head shaking tunes. But her unmistakable talent as a vocalist AND a songwriter still shines through here. Whether it is the retro feel of "Bring Night" or just the overall fun vibe to We Are Born, Furler proves that not only piano ballads are showcases for powerful voices. Sometimes a good dance number can do the same thing.

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Previous list appearances: Colour The Small One (#17 in 2006), Some People Have Real Problems (#16 in 2008)

9. Grinderman 2 - Grinderman (Anti)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Mickey Mouse and the Goodbye Man", "Bellringer Blues", "Evil!"

If you ever thought that Nick Cave's band, the Bad Seeds, was a little too squeaky clean and reserved for your tastes, look no further to his side project, Grinderman, to satisfy your perverse needs. Grinderman's sophomore effort is raunchy, difficult, and brilliant. More focused than their debut, the band still excels with producing fuzzed-out noise as the soundtrack to Cave's unmistakable vocals. Even when the band slows things down, like in "What I Know", there is still a sinister and creepy undertone. It is admittedly a little tough to digest at first - the songs aren't constructed in a manner to get stuck in your head - but the more you spend with Grinderman 2, the more you are apt to like it, even though the feeling of needing a shower after listening to its sludgy nine songs never seems to abate.

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8. Brothers - The Black Keys (Nonesuch)
Put these on your iPod right now: "Howlin' For You", "Tighten Up", "Too Afraid to Love You"

Despite putting out quality releases for almost ten years, this Akron, Ohio garage blues trio has largely flown under the radar. Until now. With Brothers, the band's sixth album, the Keys have taken to further refine their sound and explore a depth to their compositions not seen before. This isn't to suggest that they have lost any of their snarl. Sure, there are few ballads here, but for the most part, guitarist vocalist Dan Auerbach and drummer Patrick Carney maintain that garage-y sound, with Auerbach's soulful vocals soaring over fuzzed out guitar riffs and percussive punctuation. The growth here is largely due to the band making a slightly higher-than-low fi disc. Auerbach's bass lines are audible and drive some of the tracks, the production level seems to have increased, and even background vocals from R&B songstress Nicole Wray propel a couple of tunes. Some long-time fans of the band may pine for the days when the band sounded raw, but sometimes adding a little polish to something so sharp doesn't have to make it dull. Brothers succeeds on this level and instead of flying under the radar, the band seems poised to fly well above it.

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Previous list appearances: Magic Potion (#22 in 2006), Attack & Release (#7 in 2008)

7. The Suburbs - The Arcade Fire (Merge)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Ready To Start", "The Suburbs", "Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains)"

The Arcade Fire has many members. Each member plays multiple instruments. You might think this would result in a muddled mess, with people and sounds all tripping over each other. Luckily, for us, it doesn't. Rather, their recordings, particularly this, their third, are remarkably focused and captivatingly complex without being overwrought. The songs here are eclectic, but not alienating. From the shuffling title track to the grandiose "Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains)", the band successfully walks the fine like of being different and interesting while still producing songs for mass-consumption. In this day and age of the "Shuffle Brain", one might find a 16 track release a little too much of one band to digest in a single sitting. But don't let the album's length fool you. The time breezes by in the Arcade Fire's pop glory and you may even find yourself pressing the repeat button when you are done.

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6. Crooked - Kristin Hersh (Self-Released)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Krait", "Sand", "Robidoux"

Kristin Hersh has to be one of the more daring and prolific artists out there today. Tired of having record companies dictate her art, she now relies on fans' paid subscriptions to finance her operation. The upside for contributing fans is limitless, including unfiltered, untainted music. Hersh's latest continues to showcase her immense musical and songwriting growth. While Crooked isn't saturated with catchy choruses and polished pop, it instead relies more on atmospheric compositions, interesting guitar work, and Hersh's ever-unique vocals. The soaring "Krait" might be the closest thing to a radio single here, but the great part about Hersh's place now is she no longer has to worry about such things. And it shows here with mature, non-formulaic songs that are pensive, focused, and brilliantly executed.

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Previous list appearances: Strange Angels (#8 in 1998), Sky Motel (#3 in 1999), Sunny Border Blue (#1 in 2001), The Grotto (#15 in 2003), Learn To Sing Like A Star (#6 in 2007)

5. Mini Mansions - Mini Mansions (Ipecac)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Crime Of The Season", "The Room Outside", "Wunderbars"

What a pleasant surprise and an oddball little record this is. Mini Mansions, an L.A.-based trio, claims among its founders Michael Shuman, who just happens to be the bass player for stoner rock outfit Queens of the Stone Age. The remarkable thing about about the dozen tracks here is that it couldn't possibly sound any LESS like QOTSA if it tried. Instead, imagine some Beatles, a little Minus 5, and a dash of Elliott Smith all put together. What emerges sounds like the best outtakes from the Revolver sessions. Richly layered and relying on otherworldly vocal harmonies and melodies, the tunes are soothing, but far from boring. Keyboards and Shuman's great bass lines propel most of the tracks, but make no mistake. This is pure, unadulterated pop. Catchy songs, well-written, and well-performed. The cool thing about Mini Mansions is there aren't a lot of bands out there right now that are willing to sound like this, popularity-be-damned. Solid beginning to end, the band's first full length really boasts their influences, and still manages to sound unique.

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4. Wilderness Heart - Black Mountain (Jagjaguwar)

Put these on your iPod right now: "The Hair Song", "Rollercoaster", "Buried By The Blues"

I'll put it to you bluntly. If you don't like "The Hair Song", the first track on this Canadian trippy-rock outfit's latest offering, you are an idiot. Black Mountain comes out with my personal song of the year and manages to have the rest of the disc be practically as solid, which is quite a feat. There's no question the band wears their influences on their sleeves: singer Stephen McBean does a great early Chris Robinson and, in between psychedelic tones, a heavy Zeppelin hand is felt. But the addition of Amber Webber's vocals, both in conjunction with McBean's and leading on her own give the disc an entirely different feel than their influences. Even taking the absurdly catchy "The Hair Song" out of the equation, songwriting is a strength here and the gamut is run with everything from acoustic ballads to some low, deep end rock and roll. And considering there is little, if any, drop off between my favorite song of the year and the rest of the nine tracks, I'd say that makes a pretty damn good album.

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3. Broken Bells - Broken Bells (Columbia)
Put these on your iPod right now: "The High Road", "Your Head Is On Fire", "Trap Doors"

The debut collaboration between James Mercer (he, of the Shins) and Brian Burton (better known as Danger Mouse) is an odd, mellow affair, but one that is strangely rewarding. The ten songs on their eponymous release benefit strongly from each artists' obvious strengths: Mercer's dynamic vocals soaring over trademarked acoustic pop and Burton's genius-level production capabilities that turn everything he touches into a sonic masterpiece, as well his ability to write songs with seemingly any partner. There's some nod to 80s keyboard pop as well as the psychedelic 60s, but the album does not rest or rely on the past. Instead, it forges a collection of dreamy atmospheric pop that clearly demonstrates what a true collaboration is and should be. Even more importantly, the songs are catchy - unconventional at times (save for the excellent single "The High Road"), but not so much that the idea of "song" is lost. Broken Bells is a stunning work and, hopefully, proof positive that these two talented artists have the chemistry and drive to keep up their teamwork for more releases in the future.

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2. Gorilla Manor - Local Natives (French Kiss)
Put these on your iPod right now: "Wide Eyes", "Sun Hands", "Who Knows Who Cares"

Wow, were did these guys come from? Just wonderful, complex pop here. A much more accessible version of Vampire Weekend with even some My Morning Jacket thrown in, this LA-based quintet is masterful in driving rhythms (thanks mostly to bassist Andy Hamm and drummer Matt Frazier) and tight melodies. Each of the dozen tunes is strong, thanks to pretty insane three-part vocal harmonies and taut writing. A band that employs so many different sounds is a natural fit to cover a Talking Heads song, which they triumphantly do ("Warning Sign") and while one can belabor how to best categorize the band, one's time is much better served just basking in the excellent musicianship and enjoying Gorilla Manor. While the albums title refers to a beyond-messy house, its contents are just the opposite: tidy, pristine, and expertly executed.

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1. I Speak Because I Can - Laura Marling (Astralwerks)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Devil's Spoke", "Rambling Man", "Alpha Shallows"

The sophomore release from Britain's Laura Marling is striking on many different levels. Taking her mature-beyond-her-years songwriting chops and guitar playing even another step higher from her debut, 2008's Alas I Cannot Swim, Marling continues to blur the lines between contemporary folk and music from a long ago age. Her guitar playing crisp and clean, she builds her songs orchestrally rather than relying on the usual folk sparseness. Banjos, slide guitars, dobros, percussion all dot the songs, making them transcendent. I Speak Because I Can is a mature offering with mature themes and mature music. While it can sometimes be frail and delicate, it bites back just when you get too comfortable with majestic heart-breaking ferocity. Basking in how majestic and impressive this release is, there is one final piece that makes it even more so - Laura Marling is just 20 years old.

Listen to samples and buy here.

Work Caf (Mis)Adventures - The Continuing Story

2010-11-03T11:18:00.004-05:00

Visitors to this blog in the past, all three of you, probably recollect my stories of some scary and interesting things my work's cafeteria serves up for lunch. If time, an extraterrestrial brain probe, and/or grain alcohol has stolen these memories from you, feel free to bask in the wonderfulness that is the Dim City archives. Laugh again! Cry again! Say, "Who the fuck is Dim?" again!

So, today, I venture downstairs and after careful consideration, I deduce that my best option is the tantalizingly vague "Oriental combo". Visions of a threesome with Lucy Liu and Kristi Yamaguchi dance in my head before I remember I'm down here to eat some crappy caf food. And before you start flooding my comments section yelling at me that Lucy and Kristi are Asian and NOT Oriental, I know. And hell's never-ending fire awaits you for trying to deny me my threesome.

Back to the Oriental combo later. Let me first detail the caf choices that I inexplicably deemed not as appetizing as this delectable treat.

In the grill line we have:

Grilled Chicken Caesar Sandwich with Spicy Fries.

The sandwich consists of a thin chicken breast that was half-way cooked this morning. They do this, you see, to save time during the unendurable lunch-time crush. That way, when you order a chicken breast four hours later, it only takes a fraction of the time to prepare for you, since it is already partially cooked. Efficiency! Timeliness! Salmonella!

This chicken is about the size of a normal person's palm and is marinated in some indiscernible liquid and rosemary. You may ask how I know there's rosemary. Well, gentle reader, let me tell you. Because these rosemary leaves, the size of toothpicks, cement themselves somehow in the chicken breast so you can't pick them off. Yet, when you eat them, they miraculously dislodge from the poultry and launch themselves, like a javelin, into the roof of the mouth you just burned with coffee that morning.

This regular old chicken sandwich is fancied up by adding wilted romaine lettuce, a sprinkle of powdered cheese, and Caesar dressing and all put in a bun that is roughly the size of an 18-wheeler's hubcap. Voila!

And don't ask what their spicy fries are. They don't exist. It's the same old fries. They pull this shit all the time. Like when they say a dish comes with "saffron-infused herbed white rice" and you get down there and they throw a spoonful of Rice-a-Roni on your plate. The yellow flavor that leaves behind a dye stain on the fine china that only a sandblaster could remove. San Francisco Treat indeed.

Moving over to the deli line, they are also featuring a sandwich. This one is called Sausage Parmesan, which, in thinking about it, would make a great porn name for myself.

This sandwich is built thusly: take a sub roll that is so stale, it could be used as a bunker buster in Afghanistan. Put a piece of freezing cold provolone cheese in it. Add an abnormally large sized Italian sausage (insert your own joke here) and cover with a tomato sauce that's so runny, it looks like Cherry Kool-Aid. Now, that's some gourmet shit right there.

The last option for me is the salad bar. The salad bar sort of freaked me out in the past because I got it one time and there was, shall we say, some undesired protein in it. I have recently got back on the salad bar and it has been bug-free so far. But my problem with it is this - there have about 378 things that you can put in your salad and they charge you by weight. Of the salad, not by MY weight, thank God. Most of these salad items look pretty good from a distance and since it really isn't all that substantive, I really pile everything on. The last time I got a salad for lunch, it cost me $43. No more.

So, you tell me - doesn't that Oriental Combo sound good now?

This combo plate is fried rice, chicken, ribs, and spring rolls. How can they mess that up, you ask? You should know by now that I'm going to tell you.

The spring rolls (2) were the size of my second toe. The one next to the big toe, not the one next to the pinkie toe. So, two of those. They are so small they each contained one matchstick of a carrot and some shredded cabbage. And they had this peculiar, distinctly non-Asian flavor I like to call "freezer burned." And dipping sauces? We don't need no stinkin' dipping sauces!

The fried rice actually relatively OK despite seemingly having about 12 different colors of peppers in it. I'm pretty familiar with the red, green, orange, and yellow varieties of peppers, but once you start getting into the deep cuts of the Crayola 64, I get a little nervous. Periwinkle blue peppers? Is this organic? I did appreciate the nice touch of the scrambled egg in the rice, but knowing these jokesters, this was probably left over from an omelet they cooked two days ago.

Next comes the meat. The chicken was a chicken leg (1) and when I say "chicken leg (1)", I mean chicken leg (1). Not a traditional Chinese chicken wing, but what really ended up looking like a friggin drumstick from Thanksgiving (1) with skin on it that I swear they used to make firemen's raincoats out of. The rib, and I do mean singular rib, was one of those country style rib thingies. The one where the bone is 99.3% of its total mass. That weird cellophane skin on the under side of the rib accounts for 0.2% of the rest. Then, you have the fat and marrow clocking in at about 0.3%, which basically means I sucked on this disgusting thing for ten minutes to get 0.2% of pork meat. At least, I think it was pork.

The collective Oriental combo meat was a horror show in and of itself. Almost instantly upon eating the chicken, I experienced a stomach ache that was reminiscent of getting off a roller coaster someone made you to ride after forcing you to swallow a cinder block. Not helping this was the truly otherworldly colored marinade they used. This thing was an unhealthy pinkish red ooze that would have made Joseph say, "I couldn't possibly have this hue on my dreamcoat. It's far too electric for my taste." And this marinade didn't just look toxic.

Upon taking my first bite of the rib, I felt this marinade indelibly adhere to my face. I went into the men's room and the mirror exposed me looking like Heath Ledger in The Dark Knight.

"Why so serious?"

Well, for starters, because I probably have trichinosis now and look like Donatella Versace tried to put lipstick on me.

I stumbled back to my desk and choked down the rest of the rib and chicken. Upon wiping my hands on a napkin, it burst into flames that couldn't be extinguished by earthly water.

Did I make the right choice for lunch today? You tell me.

Man, I really need to start brown bagging it.

The Best of 2009 - #15 - #1

2010-02-12T09:55:00.021-05:00

Here it is. The Best of 2009. Now, get listening!

15. Act III: Life And Death - The Dear Hunter (Triple Crown)

Put these on your iPod right now: "What It Means To Be Alone", "The Tank", "The Thief"

Part Broadway play, part rock opera, The Dear Hunter's principle member, Casey Crescenzo, continues his foray into the art of the melodic, bombastic, and orchestral concept album. A much more accessible Mars Volta, The Dear Hunter employs some of the emo aesthetic, but really lets the strength of the songwriting, in particular, the melodies and orchestration, propel the album without getting mired into fulfilling whatever expectations come along with the emo genre. Musically, the album is all over the place with some really straight out alterna-pop songs, some strange vaudevillian type numbers, and complex arrangements all interwoven. An ambitious album, Act III: Life And Death proves that, while quite a few other bands are doing what they are doing these days, The Dear Hunter is one of the most impressive.

Have yourself a listen here.

14. Everything Touching Everything - These United States (United Interests)
Put these on your iPod right now: "Will It Ever", "Good Night Wish", "The Important Thing"

These United States give you a little bit of everything in their latest release, but what it comes down to is that bandleader Jesse Elliott has assembled excellent musicians who pull off a great Americana record. There's a little garage rock here, as well as some overt alt-country, but the album never veers too far in one direction, rather relying on a lot of brushed percussion, steel guitars, and piano accents to provide the common thread. There are nice tempo shifts here as well as some pretty grandiose compositions. These United States crafted a rootsy record that is the perfect length, has catchy riffs, and can easily be enjoyed as a whole effort. In this day and age of "Shuffle brain", there's something to be said for that.

Have yourself a listen here.

13. Danger Mouse and Sparklehorse Present: Dark Night of the Soul - Danger Mouse and Sparklehorse (Self-released)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Just War (Ft. Gruff Rhys)", "Little Girl (Ft. Julian Casablancas)", "Daddy's Gone (Ft. Nina Persson)"

Multi-instrumentalist and producer Danger Mouse continues his successful string of releases and collaborations, this time tag-teaming with Mark Linkous of Sparklehorse and myriad singers (from Wayne Coyne of Flaming Lips to Julian Casablancas of the Strokes to the late, great Vic Chesnutt.) The result is a trippy, dreamy, sometimes creepy (thanks to Iggy Pop) collection of thirteen tracks that range from pop to country-tinge, to rock, to trip-hoppy beats. There's a little psychedelia here and despite the wide range of vocal guests and individual song styles, there's an interesting thread of life, love, and pain throughout, culminating in David Lynch's recitation of the title track. Due to legal issues, this one is hard to find, but it would behoove you to track it down. Behoove, I say.

Have yourself a listen here.

12. The Knot - Wye Oak (Merge)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Tattoo", "For Prayer", "Mary Is Mary"

This Baltimore duo's sophomore release is a lush and lavish affair, with rich songs that are dense with sound, but not so much so that the individual instruments get lost. Some of the songs drone (in a good way) and call to mind some of the better shoegazer bands and even a little Yo La Tengo. Jenn Wasner's voice, though not completely remarkable, works perfectly within the context of the 10 songs here. Mixing in some violin and steel guitar rounds things out and the sprinkling of up tempo numbers makes The Knot a nice, well-rounded release.

Have yourself a listen here.

11. Townes - Steve Earle (New West)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Rake", "Lungs", "Where I Lead Me"

The rank of this collection of Townes Van Zandt covers is particularly notable considering, prior to this release, I had heard very little of Steve Earle and even less of Van Zandt. So, the songs we all basically new to me. Earle's fragile gravelly voice here comes across as completely heart-breaking on some numbers and sinister on others. Both work exceptionally well as does Earle's impressive acoustic guitar playing. I'm a sucker for minor key numbers and they are here in abundance and, whether Earle displays a roadhouse swagger or an introspective vulnerability, it works wonderfully and makes Townes not just a run-of-the-mill cover album.

Have yourself a listen here.

10. Noble Beast - Andrew Bird (Fat Possum)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Effigy", "Tenuousness", "Not A Robot, But A Ghost"

Oddly alluring, haunting, and undeniably quirky, Andrew Bird's Noble Beast is chamber pop at its finest. Meticulously crafted with no note wasted or out of place, the 14 tracks revel in lavish orchestration, odd meters, and Bird's often head-scratching anunciations. While all very reserved and proper, Noble Beast does project to be a grand release - something you hear in its entirety and marvel at how the complicated can sound so easy. And when Bird does let his hair down a little and kick the tempo up a little, like on "Not A Robot, But A Ghost," comparisons to the experimental, yet still accessible parts of Radiohead's catalog leap to mind. And that's always good company to be in.

Have yourself a listen here.

9. A New Tide - Gomez (ATO)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Little Pieces", "Lost Track", "Airstream Driver"

Ahhh, the art of the song. Those who know me know how much I appreciate artists who still master the art of the "song." These five guys from England really get it and while A New Tide is not as rocking as some of their earlier releases, Gomez still knows how to write some catchy pop and still tinge it with a bit of an edge. Still alternating between three lead singers, I find myself drawn to Ben Ottewell's gravelly smoothness (sounds like an oxymoron, but if you hear him, it's not) more than the others, but everyone is just so good at what they do, it's hard to play favorites. A New Tide tends to favor the acoustic mellow side quite a bit, but when the band, and more importantly, the songs are this good, that can be easily overlooked.

Have yourself a listen here.

Previous List Appearances: Abandoned Shopping Trolley Lane (#18 in 2000)

8. Masters Of The Burial - Amy Millan (Arts & Crafts)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Bury This", "Low Sail", "I Will Follow You Into The Dark"

Amy Millan (of Broken Social Scene and Stars) doesn't have the kind of voice that knocks your socks off. But for some reason, her delicate and soothing vocals are just so easy to listen to and enjoy. Masters Of The Burial is a quick record, but one that is striking in how much it packs into a short period of time. The songs border on minimalistic, though acoustic and electric guitars intermingle with strings and mandolins to forge an enjoyable sonic tapestry. Despite although the album never gets out of a low gear, at the end of it all, because of her wonderful vocals and song arrangements, I'm left wanting more. And that is a sign of a strong release.

Have yourself a listen here.

7. Remind Me Where The Light Is - Great Northern (Eenie Meenie Records)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Houses", "Snakes", "Mountain"

Part guitar-driven rock, part ethereal spookiness, LA's Great Northern is unfortunately a well-kept secret. Powered by guitarist/singer Solon Bixler and vocalist/keyboardist Rachel Stolte, Remind Me Where The Light Is harkens one back to the golden age of alternative music (the 90s!) where catchy songs mingled with great vocals and musicianship. Great Northern's strength here lies with Stolte's dreamy vocals and the musical drive of the tunes here. The harmonies here are equally impressive and the album is boosted by the track "Houses," which just might be my favorite song of the year. Great Northern might not be greatly known, but talent like this can't be hidden in the dark forever.

Have yourself a listen here.

6. Wilco (The Album) - Wilco (Nonesuch)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Bull Black Nova", "One Wing", "Everlasting Everything"

While Wilco (The Album) will never be mistaken for Wilco (The Landmark, Seminal Release), it still ranks as a solid release, especially factoring in that this, more than any other Wilco record, feels like it benefits from input from the whole, talented band. Granted, Jeff Tweedy is still in charge and he might have smoothed his songwriting edge here, relying on more mid-tempo acoustic numbers sprinkled with the occasional George Harrison-esque leads from Nels Cline, but the fact that this is a very strong record and worthy of mention this year speaks volumes to Wilco's talent. If virtually any other band attempted such a record, it probably would have been deemed forgettable, especially against the prior catalog. The fact that Wilco makes (The Album) remarkable demonstrates just how good they are.

Have yourself a listen here.

Previous list appearances: Summerteeth (Honorable Mention in 1999); Yankee Hotel Foxtrot (#6 in 2002); A Ghost Is Born (#1 in 2004); Sky Blue Sky (#5 in 2007)

5. Middle Cyclone - Neko Case (Anti)

Put these on your iPod right now: "The Pharoahs", "Polar Nettles", "Prison Girls"

While mainly a mellow, downtempo affair, Neko Case's latest offering shows remarkable growth, both lyrically and musically. Case's amazing voice is still heavily showcased, thankfully, and her band is still spot-on. Completely abandoning the twang of her early records and even the alt-countryish tendencies of her later offerings, Case presents Middle Cyclone as more of a singer/songwriter record - albeit with heavy and mature lyrical content and interesting musical nuances. While it might not immediately grab you, repeated listens draw out just how excellent this is and makes her fans very excited at what's around the corner.

Have yourself a listen here.

Previous list appearances: Blacklisted (#8 in 2002); Fox Confessor Brings The Flood (#1 in 2006)

4. Broken Side Of Time - Alberta Cross (ATO)

Put these on your iPod right now: "City Walls", "Broken Side Of Time", "Rise From The Shadows"

Just a really excellent pure rock and roll album at a time where excellent pure rock and roll albums are extremely hard to come by. The bluesy tinge would make you think that this band comes from a place a little further south than their New York home. But their sound is completely authentic and, if you can find yourself eventually used to Petter Ericson Stakee's admittedly occasional unique vocal stylings, you'll discover Broken Side Of Time to be utterly enjoyable, solid from start to finish, and a breath of fresh rock and roll air.

Have yourself a listen here.

3. Lungs - Florence + The Machine (Universal Republic)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Drumming Song", "Dog Days Are Over", "Hurricane Drunk"

What an utterly impressive debut from flamehaired Florence Welch and her excellent band. Welch's voice is so soulful, powerful, and flawless it propels each of the stellar 13 offerings here, with the richly textured music lurking just below her amazing vocals, but far from drowned out by them. The songs are filled with energy, catchy, and extremely well-written. The varying tempos, even incorporating some dance beats, punctuated with strings and even a harp, really makes Lungs are wonderfully diverse debut. There is not a single skippable track out of the baker's dozen and virtually all of them could easily be radio singles. Yet, while you are listening to Welch and her outstanding band, "pop" isn't the first word that comes to mind. "Wow" tends to be that word.

Have yourself a listen here.

2. I And Love And You - The Avett Brothers (Sony)

Put these on your iPod right now: "The Perfect Space", "I And Love And You", "It Goes On And On"

North Carolina's Avett Brothers really hit the jackpot with a gorgeous, sprawling and fun record that defies categorization. There are garage rock stompers, some 50s style pop, acoustic folk, and alt-country twangers. The key to bringing it all together is excellent songwriting and expert use of a variety of instruments - their widespread use of piano in their songs is a tremendous accent without making it a piano record - as well as fantastic record pacing and vocals. The harmonies are lush and deep, and the compositions all fit together like pieces to a puzzle. They've been around for awhile now and it seems with their latest release, an amazing record and all that entails is incredibly effortless.

Have yourself a listen here.

1. The Hazards Of Love - The Decemberists (Capitol)

Put these on your iPod right now: "The Wanting Comes In Waves/Repaid", "Won't Want For Love (Margaret In The Taiga)", "The Hazards Of Love 1 (The Prettiest Whistles Won't Wrestle The Thistles Undone)"

Simply the most musically stunning album of the year. Adding to the intrigue is that it is a concept album about a shape-shifting forest being, his affair with a human woman, a jealous nature queen, a murderous rake, and vengeful children. Colin Meloy's impressive lyrical narrative is superseded only by the tightness of the band, which seamlessly shifts between acoustic folk, bombastic hard rock, and everything in between. Adding another complex layer are the sweet, ethereal vocals of Becky Stark (as Margaret) and the mindblowingly powerful Shara Worden (the Queen) who completely steals the show. The reach of the disc is mighty - a perfect concept, executed perfectly by perfect musicians. Not just the best album of 2009 by a country mile, but one of the best in a long, long time.

Have yourself a listen here.

The Best of 2009 - #30 - #16

2010-02-09T08:13:00.023-05:00

This past year, I got almost 70 full length releases. The following list represents my favorite recordings of a very prolific year in music.

30. Elvis Perkins in Dearland - Elvis Perkins in Dearland (Beggars Xl)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Shampoo", "Doomsday", "Hey"

Another artist who might take a little while to get used to, Perkins and his band again craft interesting and dynamic songs that come close to defying categorization. Sounding a little like Neutral Milk Hotel's more down-to-earth cousin, Perkins spins tales of love, loss, and Armageddon with shuffling beats, a cornucopia of instruments, and some bombast. The melodies are sharp and the talent in the band boundless. There's a poignancy and emotional thread to all of ten songs of slightly twisted Americana and it is all these qualities that make Perkins one of music's most interesting artists.

Have yourself a listen here.

Previous List Appearances: Ash Wednesday (#7 in 2007)

29. Be Set Free - Langhorne Slim (Kemado)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Back To The Wild", "Boots Boy", "Yer Wrong"

It might take a little while to get used to Langhorne Slim's unique vocals, but once you do, you quickly recognize his talent as a songwriter and performer. An all-around mellower affair than his previous work, Be Set Free still manages to expertly fluctuate moods between upbeat and hopeful and heart-wrenching and introspection. Slim's honest take on the Americana genre is endearing and while fans might yearn a little more for a little more of the wilder side to come out, the maturity displayed here definitely showcases exponential growth of an intriguing artist.

Have yourself a listen here.

Previous List Appearances: Langhorne Slim (#12 in 2008)

28. Humbug - Arctic Monkeys (Domino)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Crying Lightning", "Pretty Visitors", "Dance Little Liar"

Managing to somehow be dark, occasionally sludgy, and lush all the same time, Humbug is a bit of a slow-burn album. While no tracks will completely knock your socks off, the album, as a cohesive whole, is steady and heavy on atmosphere. Queens of the Stone Age's Josh Homme shows up as a co-producer here, which makes sense, since some of the tunes do sound a little like later era Queens, only with Alex Turner's very British vocals. Those looking for quick hitting power pop might want to look elsewhere, but the Arctic Monkeys deliver here with some dark-edge rock that's a little more brooding and complex.

Have yourself a listen here.

27. Blakroc - Blakroc (Blakroc)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Dollaz & Sense (featuring Pharoahe Monch, RZA), ""Ain't Nothing Like You [Hoochie Coo] (featuring Jim Jones and Mos Def)", "Stay Off The Fuckin' Flowers (featuring Raekwon)"

The Black Keys take their low-fi garage blues sound and play behind a host of rappers and the result is a surprisingly cohesive effort whose only sin is its brevity. The music is signature Keys, with the beats and Dan Auerbach's guitar riffs first getting your head bobbing. Then, with rappers ranging from Raekwon to Q-Tip to Mos Def dueling with Nicole Wray's smooth R&B vocals, the songs really come together. It's nice to hear this kind of collaboration just to prove there is more to rock and rap than Aerosmith and Run D.M.C.

Have yourself a listen here.

26. Love, Save The Empty - Erin McCarley (Universal Republic)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Pony (It's OK)", "It's Not That Easy", "Love, Save The Empty"

One of the biggest compliments I can pay this record is that it isn't really the kind of music I enjoy and/or listen to all that much. But when the whole female singer/songwriter radio-friendly alterna-pop thing is executed so flawlessly, it's hard for me not to stand up and take notice. McCarley's songs are very easy to listen to and her voice smooth and soothing. Adding to the appeal is the fact that she wrote or co-wrote all of the eleven songs on her debut. Sometimes utilizing guitar as the main instrument, other times the piano, McCarley displays proficiency at both and when you factor just a perfect production job, Love, Save The Empty is deeply satisfying, even if the genre itself isn't your usual cup of tea.

Have yourself a listen here.

25. Monsters Of Folk - Monsters Of Folk (Shangri-La)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Dear God (Sincerely, M.O.F.)", "Man Named Truth", "Ahead Of The Curve"

Supergroups tend to be hit or miss, with way more of them failing to live up to the sum of their parts. Considering the immense talent of Monsters of Folk, it's easy for them to miss the lofty standards expected of them, but that's far from saying their self-titled release is a failure. Comprised of Bright Eyes’ Conor Oberst and Mike Mogis, My Morning Jacket’s Jim James and singer/songwriter M.Ward, Monsters of Folk is heavy on the folk, a little light on the monsters, but pretty much the mellow, acoustic effort one would expect to come from their name. The songs are very good, not great, but something about the instrumentation and how their voices coherently meld more than make up for any shortcomings or lack of edginess.

Have yourself a listen here.

24. Them Crooked Vultures - Them Crooked Vultures (DGC/Interscope)

Put these on your iPod right now: "New Fang", "Mind Eraser, No Chaser", "Reptiles"

Supergroups tend to be hit or miss, with way more of them failing to live up to the sum of their parts. Considering the immense talent of Them Crooked Vultures, it's easy for them to miss the lofty standards expected of them, but that's far from saying their self-titled release is a failure. Comprised of Queens of the Stone Age's Josh Homme, Foo Fighter Dave Grohl, and John Paul Jones from you should know God damn well what band, Them Crooked Vultures is heavy on the crooked, a little light on the vultures, but pretty much the heavy, stoner, distorted effort one would expect to come from their name. The songs are very good, not great, but something about the musicianship (particularly Jones' bass) and how this really comes across as a heavy-on-the-Josh project (which is OK) more than make up for any shortcomings or lack of overtly catchy songs.

Have yourself a listen here.

23. The Satanic Satanist - Portugal. The Man (Equal Vision)

Put these on your iPod right now: "People Say", "The Home", "Guns And Dogs"

The latest release from the enigmatically named Portugal. The Man (from Alaska, no less) really showcases the band's diversity and willingness to embrace different genres all throughout the course of a single disc. The Satanic Satanist is layered with melodic vocals over some funky and soulful indie rock beats. The album is friendly and inviting without being simplistic. They won't boggle your mind with time and key changes, but will make you stop and admire the catchiness of the tunes and the subtlety of their obvious songwriting talent. John Baldwin Gourley's vocals are little on the higher-pitched side, but they never sound out of place and the signs of a strong album is one that gets better and better with each listen and The Satanic Satanist definitely falls in that category.

Have yourself a listen here.

22. Songs In The Night - Samantha Crain & The Midnight Shivers (Ramseur)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Get The Fever Out", "Songs In The Night", "Bananafish Revolution"

With a oddly unique voice that sounds like it came from a little more "across the pond" than her native Oklahoma, Samantha Crain and her band put forth a fun alt-country/folkie album that displays a maturity well beyond her 23 years. Crain employs some interesting enunciations and use of meter, but it all works very well and Songs In The Night definitely shows a high degree of vocal aptitude and songwriting ability. While conventional wisdom would say Crain and her band can only get better, the reality is their debut full length is pretty damn good on its own.

Have yourself a listen here.

21. Horehound - The Dead Weather (WEA/Reprise)

Put these on your iPod right now: "So Far From Your Weapon", "Treat Me Like Your Mother", "No Hassle Night"

Jack White will have a hard time doing wrong in my eyes and this new project has him getting behind the drum kit, turning guitars over to Dean Fertita of Queens of the Stone Age, keeping Raconteurs bassist Jack Lawrence, and letting Kills frontwoman Alison Mosshart belt out the majority of the songs. What's left is a spacey, sludgy piece of heavy blues-infused rock. While you can hear elements of White's previous endeavors sprinkled throughout, Horehound is definitely all its own: a project that surprisingly loses no power with White in the background.

Have yourself a listen here.

20. To Be Still - Alela Diane (Rough Trade)

Put these on your iPod right now: "White As Diamonds", "The Alder Trees", "To Be Still"

Alela Diane has one of those voices that sounds vulnerable and fragile and powerful at the same time. Her sophomore release is a collection of wonderfully sung folk songs that sound like they came from deep inside Appalachia. Diane's unique vocal stylings, coupled with the vast number of instruments employed here make for a textured and complicated folk album. Delicate and calming, yet with the undercurrent that some darker folk has, To Be Still is a well-rounded effort from a very up-and-coming singer/songwriter.

Have yourself a listen here.

19. My Old, Familiar Friend - Brendan Benson (ATO)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Borrow", "Poised And Ready", "You Make A Fool Out Of Me"

Brendan Benson was already a pretty established singer/songwriter before he teamed up with Jack White in the Raconteurs. My Old, Familiar Friend has him back solo and writing catchy and melodic pop songs that have a bit of a dated (in a good way) sound. I guess that makes it retro! Benson's voice is virtually flawless and perfect for the music here, which range from ballads to rockers. Some might yearn for a bit more of the edge that the Racs provide, but ultimately, Benson has gone his own way and delivered a tight and impressive pop affair.

Have yourself a listen here.

18. Tell 'Em What Your Name Is! - Black Joe Lewis & The Honeybears (Lost Highway)

Put these on your iPod right now: Sugarfoot", "Boogie", "Humpin'"

Gotta love this release. It's got the five F's: ferocity, funk, freshness, fun, and a really cool album cover. While young bandleader and guitarslinger Black Joe Lewis' vocals won't ever be confused for the perfection that is James Brown's, the album and the songs are just a full-on onslaught of a horn-driven soul/funk/blues concoction that really brings a smile to your face. The backing band is more than able - to the point of proficiency - (especially the crazy bass) and the fact that it feels like you are in a timewarp when listening to it adds even more to the charm. Lewis' debut album is brief and a little rough around the edges, but you expect that from a record like this. After hearing this one, I'm looking forward to experiencing what he does with this talented band and some experience under his belt.

Have yourself a listen here.

17. Embryonic - The Flaming Lips (WEA/Reprise)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Watching The Planets", "The Sparrow Looks Up At The Machine", "Silver Trembling Hands"

Oppressively dense in some areas and eerily atmospheric in others, the latest opus from Oklahoma's Flaming Lips isn't easily digestible in one sitting. Nestled somewhere between spacey and psychedelic early Pink Floyd and Led Zeppelin's plodding metal, Embryonic is a audio challenge, but quite a rewarding one. Never one to conform to musical trends, leader Wayne Coyne puts up a middle finger to popular music (and even their more accessible Yoshimi record) and says "take this or leave it." Even with an expected convoluted lyrical narrative, Embryonic is ultimately enjoyable just because there is so much going on sonically - though not all of it works perfectly - and it is daring, different, and when stripped down to bare bones, rocks pretty hard.

Have yourself a listen here.

Previous List Appearances: Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots (#10 in 2002)

16. The Mountain - Heartless Bastards (Fat Possum)

Put these on your iPod right now: "Witchy Poo", "Be So Happy", "Had To Go"

It is possible that rock is dead, or at least gasping for air, but no one bothered to tell that to Austin's Heartless Bastards, who manage to put together a powerful garage rock record complete with excellent howling vocals. At the center of the Bastards is singer, guitarist and principal songwriter Erika Wennerstrom whose strong lower register really gives each song a solid foundation upon which the music is built. While most of the songs are slow burn rock tunes, the band does manage to mix things up a little with the use of mandolin, steel guitar, and strings. All in all, The Mountain is a bright ray of hope for a dying genre.

Have yourself a listen here.

The Best Shows and EPs of 2009

2010-02-04T11:21:00.008-05:00

Greetings denizens of Dim City. Been a long time. Been a long time. Been a long lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely time.

Hello, hello, hello? Is there anybody in there? Just nod if you can hear me. Is there anyone home?

Well, I certainly wouldn't blame you if you weren't around, but here's my annual attempt to update this blog more frequently than bi-yearly. Starting off with my annual list of music-related superlatives. Today's installments will focus on my favorite live shows of 2009 as well as my favorite EPs. Sometime next week, I hope to follow with two installments of my favorite 30 releases of 2009. Stay tuned and check back from time to time. The lights might just be coming back on in Dim City...

And hey, comment will ya? Just so I know you all are alive?

My 10 Favorite Live Shows of 2009:

10. Matthew Sweet & Susanna Hoffs at the Iron Horse, Northampton, MA (11/14/09)

9. Grant-Lee Phillips with Winterpills at Club Passim, Cambridge, MA (11/16/09)

8. Neko Case with John and Joey from Calexico at the Calvin Theatre, Northampton, MA (11/13/09)

7. Jeff Tweedy with Pronto at the Calvin Theatre, Northampton, MA (03/27/09)

6. Amy Millan at the Middle East Upstairs, Cambridge, MA (11/04/09)

5. The Decemberists with Robyn Hitchcock & The Venus Three at the Bank of America Pavilion, Boston, MA (06/09/09)

4. Bob Mould Band with Miles Benjamin Anthony Robinson at the Paradise, Boston, MA (10/07/09)

3. Gomez with Black Joe Lewis and the Honeybears at Pearl Street Ballroom, Northampton, MA (04/02/09)

2. Ryan Adams and the Cardinals at the Orpheum Theatre, Boston, MA (02/21/09)

1. The Decemberists with Heartless Bastards at Mountain Park, Holyoke, MA (08/16/09)

My 5 Favorite EPs of 2009:

5. Alela & Alina - Alela Diane & Alina Hardin (Rough Trade)

Soothing acoustic folk, despite some dark subject matter. Diane's and Hardin's voices interweave beautifully, spinning and swirling together into an Appalachian timewarp.

Have yourself a listen here.

4. Things You Should Know - Carina Round (Self-Release)

Criminally underrated, Round continues her string of stellar releases with a slightly less rocking, but no less biting EP - chalk full with excellent melody, arrangment, and execution.

Have yourself a listen here.

3. Black River Killer EP - Blitzen Trapper (Sub Pop)

Unfortunately brief, even by EP standards, the latest from Portland, OR's Blitzen Trapper picks up where 2008's brilliant "Furr" left off: quirky, complex alternative pop with a slight twang and a lot of hooks.

Have yourself a listen here.

2. Doomsday EP - Elvis Perkins In Dearland (XL Recordings Ltd.)

Richly textured and complex, Perkins' 2009 EP is grand without being overbearing and dense without being overwrought. Mixing gospel elements into his acoustic rock genre, Perkins is turning into one of music's most prolific and rewarding artists.

Have yourself a listen here.

1. Power + Light - 50 Foot Wave (Self-Released)

Kristin Hersh's dynamic power trio manages to absolutely slay a single 26 minute track with multiple movements, time changes, and mood swings. String sections that segue into pummeling, almost prog-rock propels this offering into the stratosphere. A very impressive piece of music.

Have yourself a listen here.

Oh, and if you have made it this far, be sure to check out my bud March's list too.

Day Off

2009-07-21T10:19:00.003-05:00

So, the wife and I planned to take the day off yesterday. We both are getting close to maxing out our respective vacation time at our jobs, so we figured we could extend our weekend by a day and pray that the weather was decent for a change.

We get up yesterday and a bright and sunny day greets us, which is pretty much where all the perfection of the day off ends. Quickly, as sun gets higher in the sky, the bright and sunny day that filled us with great hope for a wonderful Monday of playing hooky turned into an uncomfortably hot and humid day which caused me to sweat uncontrollaby by doing such strenuous activity as tying my shoes and blinking my eyes.

Now, I feel a little bad bitching about the weather, since in these parts lately, we've had so much rain that it would have made Noah flip off the sky. So, having the sun out is a good thing, but when I feel like I am melting, I get a little pissy.

So, we plan the day's activities, which involve going to a driving range about 20 minutes from our house (for which we had a "buy 1 bucket of balls, get another bucket of balls free" coupon). What can be better than free balls? Come to think of it, free balls probably would have helped me feel a little cooler yesterday, but that's neither here nor there.

First stop was to buy the wife a golf glove, since she has never done anything beyond mini-golf before. After this, we venture to the driving range. I pick this driving range because a) we have the aforementioned coupon, b) I have been there before and know the layout and also know that they have an extensive selection of clubs from which you can hit if you don't bring your own, and c) I absolutely LOVE to drive the little carts you need to get to the range.

So, we hop in the cart and drive up to the range. We walk up to the hut or whatever it is that the workers hang out in. I am immediately greeted by a teenager who is obviously not spending his meager summer job earnings on either a gym membership or Clearasil. He has the personality and enthusiasm of a stoned tortoise.

I present the coupon entitling me to free friggin' balls and this kid has the audacity to tell me they "don't accept that coupon". Apparently, sometime between the time that coupon was conceived and yesterday, the ownership changed and they used a magic marker on their sign outside to eradicate the name it used to be - the same name of the place that offered the coupon.

So, there I stood, without my free balls.

Since we made the trip all the way there, we decided to stay nonetheless and take out some of our frustrations on the battered Titleists and other horrifically deformed balls they give you at the range. I ask the kid if they have clubs. He told me to come around to the back.

I give the wife a wink, because the last time I was there, about a month and a half ago, they had some state of the art shit. There were about ten separate drivers there and the one I chose back then was made out of some sort of outer-space titanium alloy Martian metal. The head of the club was the size of a watermelon and the sweet spot was about as wide as the pimply kid's waistline. Every shot I made with this club went an average of 14,976 feet and straight as a friggin arrow.

I figured I'd grab this club again and then hook the wife up will a similar, inter-planetary driver that would assuredly cause her to be so good that she would turn pro, make millions of dollars, and allow me to quit my job, sit around a pool, drink beers, and have all the free balls I want.

So, I go around back of the Puberty Hut and spy a big plastic trash can filled with clubs. This is where I got my ball launcher from a month and a half ago.

I crack my knuckles and blow on my fingers to blow out the fire I am anticpating them experiencing once I start launching laser beams from my beloved club. And then I look in the bucket.

There were roughly 944 irons that looked like they were excavated some some paleolithic-era archelogical dig. And they were all made for midgets.

I scanned the bucket further and found two hockey sticks (??) but I couldn't find that Martian driver from before. You know that awful sinking feeling you get when something really awful happens to you? The immediate sweating, the sick stomach, the blood draining to your feet, the shaking? That's what happened to me when I couldn't find that driver. Then again, it was really fucking hot out and I hadn't eaten in like about 22 hours, so who the hell knows, Dr. House?

The only driver they had was apparently stolen from Fred Flintstone. The shaft, torturously bent, was made out of a combination of pencil lead and silly putty. The head was a clam shell the size of a silver dollar.

"Uhhhh...do you have any other drivers back here?", I ask nervously.

"Nah", says pimplehead. "As soon as we get new ones in, they get stolen or broken."

And THIS one survived? It surely is the cockroach of golf drivers.

So, bummed, we went to hit our paid-for balls. No free ballin' today.

The wife is having fun since she never did this before, but I am really struggling with my Stone Age club. The "sweet spot" on this is about the size of a pea and if you don't nail the ball flush on that 2 millimeter area, you either pop the ball straight up, drive it straight into the ground, or dribble it off the tee so pitifully that you actually have to decide if you want to risk getting your melon pelted with balls being driven by people with clubs made in the 20th century just to retrieve your ball and dribble it off the tee again.

Oh, and the grips on this thing were worn so poorly that within three swings, I had blisters on my hands that looked like I high-fived a pre-lit hibachi.

After about a half hour, we had enough and left the driving range for lunch. We went to a place where we had yet another coupon, which was miraculously honored. In fact, lunch was pretty much uneventful, except for the fact that they had run out of what I wanted to eat and there was a middle aged biker chick sitting at the bar who decided to do her own version of free ballin' and picked that day to not wear a bra and let Father Gravity drag those suckers down to her navel. It was loathsome and offensive, yet I could not look away.

After lunch, we headed back home with the plan of kayaking in a lake not too far from our house. We got bit by the kayaking bug a few weeks ago and had a great experience at another lake near where we work, so we were looking forward to cooling off on the water for a bit.

We find the place where we need to rent the kayaks and we go in and immediately see three teenagers "working" there. This work involves them ignoring us and talking exclusively to each other. We have to pry all sorts of information about the excursion and what we need to do.

We fill out a form and are told that it costs $10/hour per kayak to rent. That's fine. So, the lead unhelpful teenager requests $20 from me. I say, "We pay now? Don't you wait to see how long we are out for?"

She sarcastically says, "Well, if you read the form, you'd see where you can actually go in the kayaks. You'll be bored after an hour."

Well, of COURSE we didn't read the form that we signed and dated. For all I know, it could have said that the lake is infested with those brain-eating amoebas and even if we survive our boating experience, by signing and dating this, I am giving all employees the right to come over to my house and take anything they want.

But apparently, all the form said was that the area we were allowed to take the kayaks was about the size of an Olympic swimming pool. We had to make loops in this little tiny area, despite miles and miles of unexplored water on either side of it. On top of it, this area was surrounded on two sides of it my major roads, so our relaxing cool kayaking trip was marred by car exhaust and blown out woofers playing the latest Jay-Z.

Sooo...the lead unhelpful teenager asks another unhelpful teenager to help us out. So, you can just imagine the speed and excitement with which he took to this task. He gives us two random life jackets. The wife's apparently belonged to Luciano Pavorotti after he ate Dom Deluise. Mine belonged to Kate Moss on a hunger strike.

We get thrown two paddles and brought out to our kayaks. The wife gets a 10 footer that has about 2 inches of water on the bottom. Mine is longer (heh...) but made entirely of hard (heh...) plastic with a healthy amount of wet sand distrubuted right where I have to sit.

The wife notices her kayak doesn't have the foot stabilizers. She says "this doesn't have foot stabilizers?" to which unhelpful teenager #2 replies with the ever-helpful observation, "Guess not". I assume mine also doesn't have foot stabilizers since there is nothing near my feet. Until about halfway through our sojourn around the pool where I discover the stabilizers. They are so far up the kayak that my attempt to utilize them caused me to knee myself in the chin.

We do about five loops around the tiny area before we decide we had enough and head back. Part of my reason for throwing in the towel is excruciating pain I am experiencing in the back of my thighs while I am in the kayak. It feels I am being jammed with a red-hot poker. Later, I would find out that this pain was caused by this incredibly hard plastic seat having been broken (not by me...probably from the lard ass from the driving range), so there were shards of sharp plastic jabbing into my hamstrings. Anyway, we encounter the lead unhelpful teenager one last time, where I came close to professing belief in her soothsaying skills because she was right: I was bored to tears after about twenty minutes. Then again, it might have had something to do with the minor concussion I suffered from kneeing myself in the jaw and also the lack of oxygen that my life-girdle deprived me of for the hour we were rowing.

Not exactly how I envisioned our day off when I first awoke to a bright, sunny day.

I couldn't wait to get to work today.

- Dim.

The Decemberists - At the Bank of America Pavilion, Boston, MA - 06/09/09

2009-06-11T17:21:00.005-05:00

*Note, none of the videos posted during the review were from my actual show...I just tried to grab the best sounding audience recordings I could.***

The night was sultry.

Actually, the night was far from sultry, but I always wanted to start a post off like that as a homage to that terrible movie, Throw Momma From The Train. To be honest, the night couldn't have been less sultry as really the only thing this night and sultry had in common was oppressive humidity. You know the kind of humidity when it is seriously like 55 degrees out and the extent of your physical exertion is merely breathing and you find yourself inexplicably sweating your nuts off? So much so, that you literally say out loud, in a public place, "Jesus, I'm just sitting here breathing, and somehow freezing my ass off while still managing to sweat my nuts off. What the fuck?!"

The night was like that.

But other than that, the atmosphere really wasn't sultry. It was raw and damp. That really annoying dampness. Where you would just hope it would downpour and get it over with, but it's going to stretch a brief downpour's worth of rain into an eight hour long mist fest that causes your car's wipers to make that wretched flatulating noise as it encounters friction going across your merely damp windshield. A sound so torturous to one's ears that you vow to not use the wipers again. But then, seven seconds later, you can't see shit because of this fucking mist so you have to use them and are again greeted by that repulsive noise.

That was the kind of damp it was.

But perhaps this was Mother Nature's way of welcoming Portland, Oregon's appropriately monikered The Decemberists to Boston. By giving us all a cold, raw, and humid day in the beginning of June. And it was strangely fitting.

The Decemberists, a difficuly-to-characterize quintet, arrived on tour behind their challenging and remarkable concept album, The Hazards Of Love. Fronted by guitarist and songwriter Colin Meloy, he of a lyrical vocabulary that makes Dennis Miller sound like Frankenstein, the band's previous offerings were largely acoustic, almost period pieces. The lyrics, song structures, and instrumentations were almost anachronistic; unheard of in today's pop music world. The Hazards of Love took their previous offerings and mutated it with guest female vocalists, some hard rock bombast (instead of their softer, gentler bombast), and a twisted yarn about a fair maiden, her shape-shifting beau, a villainous rake (not the garden tool, numbnuts), three vengeful ghosts of murdered children, and a jealous forest queen.

The band, and Meloy in particular, have painstakenly avoided discussing the narrative in depth. The lyrics are vague enough for the listener's imagination to extrapolate many different theories and Meloy's insistence on keeping that ambiguity intact really makes The Hazards of Love a bit of a mindfuck, in the nicest way possible.

But before we got to experience the show, largely advertised as being the complete new album played in its entirety, followed by another set of older songs, we had to endure the opening band, Robyn Hitchcock and the Venus 3. And with the talent on that stage and their smart, almost psychedelic jangly pop, it was ultra-easy. In fact, after their set was done, I lamented that it was too short, which is a rare occurance for an opening band. But when their first song was Hitchcock's ancient "I Often Dream of Trains", about as close to a perfect pop song as you will ever hear, I was immediately sucked in.

With a bit of a husky, British accented voice, Hitchcock and his band (featuring the always stellar Peter Buck and Bill Rieflin from R.E.M. as well as the very talented Scott McCaughey of the Minus 5) flawlessly played their set, including a guest appearance from Meloy on a few tunes. Quite an impressive opener.

While the set change was going on, I looked behind me as I like to do when I am at this waterfront venue. Contemplating the album's obscure plot details, I found it perfect that the night's air created a fog that was like white smoke pall that hid the skyline's buildings. About this time, the houselights went down and the crowd erupted.

First on stage was multi-instrumentalist extraordinaire Jenny Conlee (who also donned an accordian later in the show) multi-tasking behind her multi-tiered keyboard. As some of the background music to the album's opening track, "Prelude", was piped in (really, the only bummer about the show) and enveloped the audience, Conlee layed down a delicate keyboard veil that set the stage as the rest of the band assumed their positions.

In addition to Conlee and the bespectacled frontman Meloy, were bass player Nate Query (who adeptly alternated between electric and stand-up acoustic throughout the evening), awesomely solid guitarist Chris Funk (who played a hurdy-gurdy, of all things, later in the show), dextrous drummer John Moen (who surprisingly added a lot of the higher background vocals), and then the two guest vocalists: playing the part of the lovely Margaret was Becky Stark (vocalist with Lavender Diamond) and playing the part of the jealous Forest Queen was Shara Worden (vocalist of My Brightest Diamond). More on those two later.

As the "Prelude" slowly faded out, I got a little giddy, knowing the album that I have grown to recognize as one of the best of the year, was about to get going. Sure enough, Meloy, singing the part of the shape-shifting beau William, began picking the opening notes to "The Hazards Of Love 1 (The Prettiest Whistles Won't Wrestle The Thistles Undone)" on his acoustic 12-string, and I was pretty much immediately enraptured. The rest of the band, including some outstanding upright bass work from Query, kicked in about halfway through the song and story was unfolding before our eyes. There was no between song banter. Like the album, each song flowed seamlessly into the next. There was no backdrop behind the band showing visuals spelling out the story of each song. Just the band, a group of seven that sounded like seventy.

After "Hazards 1" came the brief third person narrative bridge "A Bower Scene", complete with some sinister heavy metal stomping, which segued into the part bluesy, part ethereal "Won't Want For Love (Margaret In The Taiga)", which is one of the album's strongest individual tracks. Perfectly sung by the angelic Stark, draped in white from head to toe, and augmented by Meloy's brief presence, it was transcendant live. At this time, I noticed that Worden was not sitting idly by waiting for her turn to sing, but was playing instruments from her position at the back of the stage. Throughout the night, she performed on electric bass, guitar, keyboards, and percussion. A true testament to her talent as a musician.

"The Hazards Of Love 2 (Wager All)" a truer duet than the previous song was again brilliantly sung by Meloy and Stark, their complementary vocals married in tone and emotion. The band was also rock solid, with each member standing out and providing a note-for-note recreation of the album without ever having it sound contrived.

After a brief instrumental interlude ("The Queen's Approach"), the duets between Meloy and Stark continued with the waltzy ballad "Isn't It A Lovely Night", all played perfectly, with a slight minstrel feel. It's important to note that Stark's performace as Margaret was wonderfully sublime and perfectly understated. You could tell she was holding back vocally in points, but that is because of the part she was playing. You'll get a earful of her vocal power later.

The next song was probably my most anticipated song of the night as it features Shara Worden's vocals as the Queen. When I first listened to The Hazards Of Love, I was pretty impressed, largely confused, and trying to wrap my head around the whole thing. But one aspect made me fumble for the CD booklet while driving my car on the highway and that was to see who the hell was singing the part of the Queen, because she absolutely rocked the ever living shit out of every song she sang.

So, here we are with "The Wanting Comes In Waves (Repaid)", a bit of a vocal spar between our protagonist/shapeshifter and his "mother" the Queen. Beginning with a delicate harpsichord part by Conlee, Meloy begins the song down-tempo, before the electricity of the band kicks in. Both Stark and Worden provide the backing vocals before a rocking measure slices through and introduces Worden's Queen to the proceedings. A tiny bit of a thing, Worden moved to the front of the stage in dancing gyrations and from her came this thunderous voice that caused the audience to explode in applause. Her vocals here are other-wordly and her presence commanding. It is impossible to keep your eyes off of her when she sings and she is, without a doubt, the most engaging, dynamic, and powerful female singer I have ever seen (and this coming from someone who routinely worships Neko Case, Johnette Napolitano, and P.J. Harvey).

The song, especially the last few of Worden's notes, were goosebump enducing and easily the high point of the set.

Another brief interlude, inexplicably titled "An Interlude" (who comes up with crazy titles like this?) led directly into the fuzzed out stomp of "The Rake's Song". Sinister, yet accessible, and featuring great percussion work from Moen and pretty much everyone else on stage, Meloy delivers the antagonist's anthem with a brash, accented sneer. Being the singer of both William and The Rake's parts have added to the possible intrigue of the plot as well. A crowd favorite, "The Rake's Song" ends abruptly in favor of the suite's second narrative, "The Abduction of Margaret", which, as far as titles go, does tend to give a little away about what happens. Oops! Spoiler alert!

The sultry "The Queen's Rebuke/The Crossing" follows, with outstanding guitar playing by Meloy and Funk, really setting the mood, but again, pretty much everything is blown to fucking smithereens by Worden, who sings the Queen with equal parts ease and fury. Her vocal talent, especially live, is immeasurable and playing one of the villains clearly brings out the best in her.

"Annan Water", William's plea and plan to rescue Margaret is next and is an excellent acoustic guitar number, as Meloy's 12-string rings out every chord and fills the ampitheatre. More great percussion here and, it can't be stressed enough, the band is amazingly tight.

I have to give Meloy a bit of a hard time as the next tune, "Margaret in Captivity" begins with a guitar lick that sounds suspiciously like Bon Jovi's "Wanted Dead or Alive", but since one song deals with the dastardly plans of the Rake and the other deals with riding steel horses, we'll just chalk it up to coincidence.

Again, here, Colin channels the evil Rake while Stark provides desperate and ghostly pleas in the background as the story takes a decidedly darker turn thanks to both the lyrics and the music.

The vocals for "The Hazards of Love 3 (Revenge!)" were piped in and I have to admit to being a little let down by that, as the band certainly had the ability to pull it off live, but it is such a minor quibble in what really was as perfect a live show as I have ever seen.

"The Wanting Comes In Waves (Reprise)", brief, but with impressive vocals from Meloy gives way to the closing track "The Hazards of Love 4 (The Drowned)", the final duet between William and Margaret. Gorgeous, hopeful, and heart-wrenching, with an outstanding lap steel guitar solo from Funk, if you don't get a little verklempt listening to this song, you have no soul. That's right! I said it! I got verklempt!

And thus ended the first set. The band left the stage and I looked behind me. And I could see the tops of the skyscrapers again.

I'll keep the review of the second set brief, only to say that it was very entertaining and, considering the heaviness of the previous set's material, my assumption that the band was on the serious and pretentious side were greatly inaccurate. The highlights of the second set for me included the somber "Leslie Ann Levine" from 2002's Castaways and Cutouts, "Sleepless" from the Dark Was The Night compilation, and "O Valencia!" from The Crane Wife.

The band was playful, fun, and self-deprecating during the second set. Meloy announced "Dracula's Daughter" as "the worst song he ever wrote" (probably not an exaggeration), and during the encore, both Meloy and Funk passed their guitars onto people in the crowd to play.

Oh, and Shara Worden and Becky Stark absolutely SLAYED everyone in the joint with their remarkable version of Heart's "Crazy On You".

I greatly anticipated the show leading up to it and my lofty expectations were far exceeded. The band itself was amazing and the guest vocalists just tore the roof off the place. But I went into that show a fan of The Hazards Of Love and left a fan of the Decemberists.

Listen to the album here.

No Boundaries

2009-05-20T13:33:00.001-05:00

What a killer song! I loved it!

Check out the second to last (M)idol blog now! And the last one tomorrow afternoon!

Hallelujah!

2009-05-14T15:32:00.001-05:00

Idol recap blog is up. Dim's a happy boy.

Idol

2009-05-13T14:00:00.001-05:00

Winding down on the season, which will be welcomed so I can devote a little more time to Dim City.

Anyway, the recap of last night's show is up. Check back tomorrow for the results recap.

Only one more week's worth of blog updates after tonight!

Scream On

2009-05-06T13:52:00.001-05:00

Idol blog is up. Don't forget to check back tomorrow for the recap of the results show. If Danny doesn't go home, Dim will be surly.

Rat Pack and Other Things

2009-04-29T14:18:00.002-05:00

First, the Idol blog is updated. Go there now and shower me with your love.

Second, B., if you are reading this, something's goofy with your blog and I can't see the word verification in order to leave you a comment. Anyone else having this problem?

Remind me to tell you all about a couple of interesting strangers I bumped into when me and the wife were in Portland, ME this past weekend.

- the Notorious D.I.M.

Extra! Extra!

2009-04-22T16:39:00.002-05:00

New Idol blog up. Don't forget to check back tomorrow for a recap of tonight's elimination show, which will undoubtedly have me throwing things at the TV.

If you are new around here and want access to the Idol blog, send me an email at: dim_city_13@yahoo.com.

And, you regular readers of my blog...the few but mighty, check the post below. And consider yourself tagged.

- Dim.

Tag! I'm It!

2009-04-19T20:21:00.005-05:00

I usually hate these kinds of things. What do they call them? Memes? Mamas? Moo-Moos? Whatever. But I just absolutely adore Just Me... so I gotta do this. So here you go:

Eight Things I'm Looking Forward To:

Getting a good night's sleep
Playing hooky and going to the Sox game tomorrow
Being a dad. And no, nothing is in the works just yet!
Dexter, season 3 on DVD and watching the last disc with March
Football season
Taking a well-deserved vacation with the wife
Losing some of the tonnage I have accumulated recently, through exercise, deprivation of beer, and flat-out starvation. Oh, was the category actually looking forward to something?
The Decemberists and Wilco live in the coming months, with good friends.

Eight things I did yesterday:

Had pizza for two meals (and I wonder why I need to shed the tonnage)
Helped some good friends pack up for a move
Enjoyed a Red Wings playoff win by keeping one eye on our dinner company and one eye on the bar TV.
Used my Total Gym. Take that, Chuck Norris!
Fell asleep watching A Few Good Men.
Said the words: "Fuck you, Noah!" And it had nothing to do with flooding or an ark.
Lamented not winning the lottery.
Started thinking about what to write for this blog entry.

Eight things I wish I could do:

Fly.
Be invisible.
Lift any weight imaginable.
Get a good night's sleep.
Stop worrying about stupid shit.
Eat or drink anything I want without gaining weight.
Provide world peace.
Have x-ray vision so I could see really hot chicks naked all the time.

Eight TV shows I watch:

Sports (Red Sox baseball, Celtics basketball, UNC Tarheel college basketball, Patriots football, Red Wings hockey)
Chuck
30 Rock
Friday Night Lights (so, I really, REALLY like Connie Britton, OK?)
In Plain Sight (so I really, REALLY like Mary McCormick. OK?)
Chelsea Lately/Late Late Show With Craig Ferguson
It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia
Dexter (so, I really, REALLY like Julie Benz, OK?)

Eight people I tag (if they want.. ):

New (M)idol Post

2009-04-15T17:09:00.002-05:00

You guys don't have to be reminded every week, now, do you?

(M)idol

2009-04-08T12:47:00.001-05:00

Blog up.

Don't forget to check tomorrow for the results recap.

Dim out.

Go Heels!

2009-04-06T07:55:00.002-05:00

Turn it blue tonight, boys!

Hey, Cool Kids

2009-04-01T18:39:00.002-05:00

Shameful self-promotion, yes, but if you haven't already, please mosey on over to American (M)idol to read a recap of last night's freakshow. And don't forget to check back tomorrow for the recap of the elimination show.

I bust my nuts on these things. Would it kill you to read it? Huh? Would it??? Huh? Huh?? Oh sorry...I had my headphones turned up. You were saying?

Love, Dim.

Prescription

2009-03-26T11:58:00.001-05:00

For those who know the secret handshake, don't forget to check for your weekly dose of American (M)idol. Performance show blog is up now and the results show blog will be coming up tomorrow.

Frustration

2009-03-21T22:48:00.008-05:00

OK, honestly, I have to come clean here. I'm at my wits' end. Granted, I haven't exactly been the most consistent poster in these parts, but I pour my soul into every single blog (kinda). I try to make my blogs humourous, thought-provoking, and intelligent (kinda). I try to market my blog as a refuge for any reader willing to take a chance on a middle-aged kid with a dream (kinda).

And for the last eighteen months, what single post on my blog has been giving me the most hits? No, not the myriad of posts that I have devoted amazing amounts of time composing. No, no, no.

The one post that I get endless hits on is...wait for it..my Amy Adams is hot post. Go ahead. Google "dim city amy adams is hot" and see what the first fucking listing is. Of all the posts I have. Of all the time and effort I have devoted to this blog, my most popular post is a throw-away entry about my personal affection for a certain redheaded actress. No, not my post on all the Christmas TV specials out there. Not even the post of me in various MySpace-esque poses. Not even me making fun of Rachael fucking Ray! Oh, how sad. What a truly pitiful world in which we live where, not only do my intricate and deep posts go unnoticed, but my shallow and pimp-worthy posts get the most hits.

Do you really think I would stoop to such vile levels to get hits on my blog? You bet your goddamn American Idol, Jonas Brothers, youtube, stimulus package, midget porn, Facebook, crock pot pulled pork recipe, boobs, what the fuck is going on with "Heroes", big boobs, Lindsay Lohan naked, Tina Fey naked (yeah, good luck with that one, asshole), Nigerian bank scam, really big boobs, NCAA basketball scores, Filet o' Fish song, Amy Adams is hot, ass I wouldn't.

So take your business elsewhere, perverts!

Love, Dim

P.S. Fall Out Boy, Gossip Girl, the Phish reunion, is Adam Lambert gay?, Tom Cruise kills Oprah, and Barack Obama say hi.

Reminder

2009-03-18T15:32:00.002-05:00

Just a reminder to all you followers of the (M)idol blog to always check after the performance shows and the results shows for a new entry. New one is up now.

For those of you who have the fever and want the prescription (and it's NOT more cowbell), e-mail me at dim_city_13@yahoo.com and I might invite you to take part in my awesomeness.

- Dim.

New Blog

2009-03-11T13:20:00.004-05:00

OK, citizens, I have decided to start up a tertiary (oh, how quickly you forget the slumbering Dim's Poetry Corner) blog.

This one is for my American Idol re-caps. I only start watching when they reach the final 12 (or 13, in this case), so you haven't missed anything.

This blog is by invite only, however, for reasons that will become clear when I grant you permission and you read the blog's description. It is NOT a nefarious way for me to collect your e-mail address and I promise to never use your personal e-mail to correspond with you. March, you're exempted from this because I not only know your personal e-mail already, but also where you live.

So, if you want access to this blog, e-mail me at dim_city_13@yahoo.com and let me know.

Also, it would be helpful if you could leave a comment on this entry saying to expect an e-mail, just so I can check and get you hooked up as soon as possible.

And it's OK if you don't want to see it. I won't take it personally, assholes. HA!

Love, Dim.

P.S. As a matter of trust, as Billy Joel would say, I'll gladly reveal my REAL name (ooooooh!) and my REAL e-mail address to anyone who wants to subscribe to the blog, but is uneasy letting me know their true identity without knowing mine. Just let me know when you send the note. I might even tell you my favorite color too.

Ignorance is Bliss* (*I just made up this phrase right now)

2009-03-08T17:49:00.003-05:00

Alas, my fears for the future of humanity were hardly allayed today. We do indeed live in an "American Idol", reality TV world.

We went to see Watchmen today.

And while the film leaves a ton to talk about after it's over, I found myself regrettably distracted by a comment from a fellow moviegoer once the film completed and we were all standing up during the closing credits and stretching our bodies from being cramped up in uncomfortable seats for almost three hours.

You see, during a scene in the movie, that song "Hallelujah" by Leonard Cohen played. This is the same "Hallelujah" that Leonard Cohen not only sang originally, but actually wrote some 25 years ago. Now forget my utter disagreement of the use of that particular song in that particular scene for a second...the fact is that song, sung by Cohen, played almost in its entirety.

Upon the conclusion of the film, this person (who was far from a teeny-bopper) proclaimed defiantly that he wondered who "did that version of 'Hallelujah', because it was awful". His amazing, on-the-spot detective work led him to believe that this multi-gajillion dollar movie "must not have been able to get the rights to the real song or something."

Ding ding ding! Man, you just maxed out your earnings on "Who Wants to Be A Dipshit" and you didn't even have to phone a friend. Congratulations!

I'm just really curious who he thought did the "real" version of the song: Jeff Buckley or Jason Castro?

- D.

The Cardinals at the Orpheum Theatre, Boston, MA - 02/21/09

2009-02-25T12:30:00.014-05:00

As a huge music fan, I probably don't need to tell you that the hours leading up to seeing a favorite band or artist live often fills me with nervous anticipation. In life, I am never more impatient than the minutes that seem like hours between an opening act I hardly care about and the headliner that is about to melt off my face.

As a huge Ryan Adams fan, I probably need to tell you that, leading up to seeing him, my (good) nervous anticipation of seeing an other-worldly performance is often superseded by my (bad) nervous anticipation of seeing a well-publicized and, unfortunately, far-too-frequent Ryan Adams meltdown that will cause me to leave the venue poorer in the wallet and poorer in my profound admiration for him as a songwriter and performer.

I've seen Ryan and his band, the Cardinals, on two occasions. The first was back in 2005 right before the ever-prolific Adams released his trio of brilliant discs, Cold Roses, Jacksonville City Nights, and 29. He went on stage absurdly late and then insisted on carrying on conversations with heckling audience members and constantly complaining about the lights. Even his sound man, whom we were standing next to, was commenting aloud about his behavior. The band actually played really well that night, and despite Adams' frequent distractions, he didn't have a spazz out. However, because he went on so late (on a Tuesday, I might add), it meant that he didn't finish out his set until well after 1:00 AM, which resulted in a number of audience members, including yours truly, to miss the end of the set.

The next time was in 2007 and, despite feeling very under-the-weather, the temperamental and tempestuous Adams managed to pull together another excellent-sounding show. The only bite of the night came afterwards. I'm admittedly a giant nerd and, at any given time, I have this mental list of five artists I'd like to meet. Ryan is definitely and forever on that list. So, after the show, we waited around outside the bus with a few other people wanting to say hi to him. We actually ended up carrying on a lengthy conversation with Ryan's tour manager who assured us that Ryan would be out of the bus shortly and would say hi. Over an hour went by and the tour manager left us an emerged from the bus with Ryan and the two walked right past our small group without saying a word.

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not one of those entitled fans who feels like every artist owes it to their fans to bend over backwards for them. These people are human too and entitled to their bad moods, off nights, etc. It's just that it would have been nice to glad-hand for five minutes. This experience did not diminish the performance at all and, honestly, I ended up far more ripshit at the tour manager (who knew we were waiting and then ignored us) than anyone else, but to say it didn't slightly dampen the experience at all would be disingenuous.

My Ryan live experiences have been walks in the park compared to others. He always seemed to have this volatility that meant that you were either going to see a fun, raucous, affable Adams or a pissy, sloppy, antagonistic Adams who was the slightest incendiary spark, caused by slightly out of tune guitar, lights that are too bright, or a heckler demanding to hear "Summer of '69", away from him leaving the stage in a huff and the house lights coming on.

This past year, Ryan and the Cardinals released Cardinology, a very solid offering that showcases his expert and flexible songwriting in the genres of alt-country, beautiful ballads, and bratty pop. When the tour to support the disc was announced, I felt like pressing my luck (I was due for a bad show), but Ticketmaster's crappy seat selection prevented me from pulling the trigger on getting tickets. I resigned myself to not seeing Ryan this time around and, considering my last experience was a good one (with great seats, I might add), I was OK with that.

In the meantime, Adams posted a rambling, self-pitying entry on his blog effectively announcing his retirement from music at the end of the tour for a variety of reasons: he's losing his hearing at a dangerously rapid pace, he's tired of being viewed as a "joke", he doesn't want to hold back his ever-talented band, and he wants to focus on a book writing career. The post has since been removed, but questions about Adams' sincerity about all that still linger. Adams is an enigma from head to toe. And no one quite knows what's up with him.

According to some press, Adams has apparently gotten clean and sober and, since the blog posting, has gotten engaged to cutie Mandy Moore (yes, THAT Mandy Moore), so the possibility of him pulling himself together increased. When tickets to the sold out show became available late last week, I swallowed hard, dropped $43/per, and prayed we were going to see a good show. Besides, he can be a big asshole sometimes, but damn, Sam, he's one hell of songwriter.

If you've made it this far in this post, congratulations, because the review is about to start.

We arrived at the venue about 20 minutes before the 8:00 start time to notice the marquee advertise "The Cardinals". Odd, since most of the time, the collective band is referred to as "Ryan Adams & The Cardinals", but I didn't really care how they were advertised, as long as they kicked ass. I had my reservations, but was cautiously optimistic.

We settled into our seats (about 13 rows from the stage) and saw the stage set-up, including two fluorescent lights in the shape of the rose from the Cold Roses album surrounding a huge, truly bombastic and hilarious replica of the image of the cover of Cardinology. It could have been made out of cardboard or tin or whatever, but it was overtly heavy metal (as were the concert shirts with lettering using the Iron Maiden font) and something you would expect to see on Judas Priest's stage. It was perfect.

Around 8:30, the lights went down and the band came out. From right-to-left were steel guitar player Jon Graboff, guitarist Neal Casal, bass player Chris Feinstein, Ryan's long-time drummer Brad Pemberton, and then the man himself.

Adams walked on stage and politely acknowledged the crowd. And I don't know what it was about that one minute before they launched into that first song, but any trepidation and anxiety of the unknown I had was gone. Just completely gone. There was this vibe on-stage that instantly told me this show was going to be something special. The first song confirmed it.

Usually an encore, "I See Monsters" is one of my favorite Ryan tunes and as he fiddled with his guitar upon taking the stage, I could vaguely make out the opening guitar lick and then it hit me that they were opening the show with it. My jaw dropped, since this seems like a song that needs to be led up to, not one to kick off a show. But I stood, attentive, excited to hear it nonetheless.

Another thing to add at this point is that Ryan and the Cardinals are so fucking good that their live versions almost always blow away the studio versions of the songs. And that is the frustrating dichotomy of Adams. He's an outstanding performer and guitarist. He's almost savant-like in his ability to write a song. And when I say a "song", I mean a SONG. A good one. Anyone can write a song. I can write a fucking song. But I marvel at Adams' ability to produce both quality and quantity on a consistent basis. And, on top of it all, the Cardinals are an amazing, amazing band. They should slay every single night. Back to the song thing for a second, music critics will argue this point, but Ryan has like a handful of bad songs. Out of hundreds. And he knows what the bad ones are and he doesn't play them. Critics will argue that his bad songs are more numerous. And that's why music critics can kiss my ass.

OK, so "I See Monsters". Just an incredible, incredible song and performance. If you are interested in it, watch this video and watch it all the way to the end. Note that this is not from the show I saw, but from a different performance.

Impressive? The version on Saturday night even kicked the ever-loving shit out of this video version which kicks the ever-loving shit out of almost everything. It was a near-religious experience for me and quickly became one of the best live songs of any artist I have ever seen.

The set continued with a few songs from Cardinology, "Everybody Knows" and "Fix It", which translated so well live that I gained a much greater appreciation for the record as a whole after the show.

During these songs, Ryan experienced some minor guitar trouble, but it amounted to nothing more than a quick look offstage and he was undeterred. This was definitely the Ryan Adams that everyone loves watching. His mood was great, he seemed happy, he was joking with the band, and it translated into a performance that won't easily be forgotten and for all the right reasons.

At this point, I would be horribly remiss if I didn't mention the Cardinals collectively and individually as a band, since the show was billed as such. But if this show was any indication of what The Cardinals are, they are easily among the best live performers (along with Wilco, the Raconteurs, and My Morning Jacket) out there today. The glue that held a lot of it together was the very underrated Neal Casal. He played lead guitar on about 75% of the tunes and managed some unbelievable falsetto harmonies. His voice, along with Adams', were two pieces of a puzzle that fit perfectly together and it's impossible to imagine the band pulling these songs off as well without Casal's contributions.

Graboff's steel guitar accents were always tastefully noticeable and really filled out the sound perfectly. Feinstein's bass was also excellently worked into the tremendous mix and his background vocals, along with the rest of the band's, made it sound like many more were providing their voices to the tunes. Pemberton, simply, was rock solid, as always. This really is one tight and ferocious wall of sound, capable of rocking your socks off with as much ease as they are able to slow everything down to near-silence, before all reconciling again in enrapturing bliss.

This was most evident on the extended, groove-laden jam of "Easy Plateau", which slowed down to a brief a capella section, featuring all five voices, before coming back together with all instruments to perfectly complete the jam.

Other highlights are too many to mention, but include a heart-wrenchingly beautiful cover of Oasis' "Wonderwall", a transcendent "Goodnight Rose" (from Adams' Easy Tiger release), and the dual-personality of "Peaceful Valley" (another personal favorite), which started off as a slowish dirge and ended with a sonic fury before segueing into the the footstomp that is "Beautiful Sorta".

Further emphasizing the fact that this truly is a "band" of which Adams is merely a part was the inclusion of two Neal Casal tunes, "Grand Island" and "Freeway To The Canyon", which showcased Casal's lead vocals and songwriting skills. Adams was relegated to backing vocals and the two songs didn't sound out of place in the set at all.

More fun was had with Ryan relating a story of a burrito that talked to him while he was tripping on tea he made with mushrooms and the spontaneous, minute-long tunes about each individual member of the band, that kicked off when Adams introduced that member to the adoring crowd.

The show wound down with the gloriously atmospheric Tim McGraw cover (kidding!), "When The Stars Go Blue", which then led to my favorite track from Cardinology, the unabashed power pop of "Magick" and then "Oh My Sweet Carolina", which brought it all back down in heartbreaking balladry. The penultimate "Born Into A Light" was beautiful, if not criminally short and the entire evening culminated in an emotionally-charged cover of Alice In Chains' "Down In A Hole".

And with that, it was all over. It was rocking and pensive, fun, exciting, and genuine. It was quite a show. I haven't seen many like it, by any artist.

All in all, the band played for about two and a quarter hours and I would have been thrilled if they played for hours more. Inevitably, with a song catalogue like Adams', there were songs I wanted to hear, but didn't. But that is an indictment more of just how many brilliant tunes he has than it is any disappointment in the setlist, because I had absolutely NONE of that.

In addition to the performance being top-notch, one of the things that enhanced it all the more was Adams' happy demeanor. Sounds corny, because who am I to say this, but we collectively said almost instantly after the show was over, "Man, it was so great to see him like this." When he is on, and he was fucking ON, there are few, if any, bands that can come close to touching the Cardinals as a collective.

I sincerely hope Adams' threats of abandoning music are false. Because as much as I think the Cardinals need Ryan, Ryan also needs them. This incredibly talented group play off each other so well, it would be disheartening if this was their swan song.

We exited the theatre and to our left were the tour buses. I saw Pemberton outside the bus giving out a hug to someone. I did a quick scan for Ryan and ever-so-briefly entertained the idea of waiting around. But I quickly put my head down and walked down the alley to main street, never even looking back at the bus. I wasn't about to let anything happen that would lessen the brilliance of this night one iota. Ryan's still on that mental list of mine and, if he stays there for eternity, so be it.

The setlist, if you are into that sort of thing:

I See Monsters

Everybody Knows

Fix It

Let It Ride

Two

Easy Plateau

A Kiss Before I Go

Wonderwall

Come Pick Me Up

Peaceful Valley

Beautiful Sorta

Freeway To The Canyon

Goodnight Rose

Grand Island

Shakedown On 9th Street

The Rescue Blues

Oh My God, Whatever, Etc.

When The Stars Go Blue

Magick

Oh My Sweet Carolina

Off Broadway

Born Into The Light

Down In A Hole

And if you want to hear the show (trust me, you do), head over to here and download or stream it. Many thanks to the taper, vanark, for sharing. It sounds awesome.

Dim's Favorite Discs of 2008, Part 2 (The Top 10)

2009-02-23T10:02:00.012-05:00

10. Cardinology - Ryan Adams & The Cardinals (Lost Highway)

Put these three songs on your iPod right now: Magick, Born Into A Light, Stop

What could very well be Adams' swansong, at least for a little while (he recently has commented on a sabbatical from music), Cardinology is a perfect synopsis of Adams' prolific career. You have the alt-country standards, the delicate piano ballad, and the bratty, unabashed pop. What you also have, inexplicably, is Ryan near-fatally overdosing on vibrato and falsetto in his vocals. But that doesn't even come close to dragging down Cardinology. If this is, in fact, the end, it is sad because the Cardinals have become a truly amazing backing band and one that has pushed Adams even further in his musicianship and songwriting. And Cardinology reflects that symbiotic relationship perfectly.

Previous list appearances: Cold Roses (#6 in 2005), Jacksonville City Nights (#11 in 2005)

Listen at Myspace

9. Fleet Foxes - Fleet Foxes (Sub Pop)

Put these three songs on your iPod right now: Blue Ridge Mountains, White Winter Hymnal, He Doesn't Know Why

Back in the 70s an enigmatic group called Klaatu put out a record that sounded very Beatle-esque. There was pretty much nothing known about this group publicly, including their names. People thought it was the Beatles actually recording under a different name. It wasn't. That said, I swear this record is actually an older, unearthed My Morning Jacket record. And that is not a criticism. While I don't find Fleet Foxes particularly inventive or groundbreaking, this release is undeniably beautiful and impressive, even if it sounds like others out there. The textured background vocals add a level of brightness to the fun sounding songs and some spookiness to the heavier-themed numbers. While this is largely a mellow affair, it never becomes boring. Original? No. Still a really great listen? Yes.

Listen at Myspace

8. Fate - Dr. Dog (Park the Van Records)

Put these three songs on your iPod right now: The Breeze, 100 Years, My Friend

I think the reason why I like this disc so much is because I can't quite put my finger on what it is about this band I like so much. Almost every piece of press categorizes them as a modern psychedelic rock collage of the Beatles, the Band, and the Beach Boys. And those sounds can all definitely be heard here, but the group does have originality and I think that's what makes the disc special. There are some vague blues numbers, piano-driven tunes, and over-the-top orchestrations with horns, strings, and mandolins. In this day of the "shuffle brain" of which I am admittedly afflicted, it is refreshing to be able to play a disc from beginning to end and enjoy each, strange step along the way as you are apt to do with Fate.

Listen at Myspace

7. Attack & Release - the Black Keys (Nonesuch)

Put these three songs on your iPod right now: Strange Times, All You Ever Wanted, Psychotic Girl

One criticism of this low-fi bluesy garage rock duo was that all their songs sound the same. And while there are still elements of that fuzzed out sound on Attack & Release, the Black Keys have forged ahead with an incredibly dynamic record...one that even utilizes seldom-heard instruments in their catalog, like banjos and flutes. The result is one that shows that this band is far from a one-trick pony. The key is always Dan Auerbach and his amazing guitar work and his soulful, blues-drenched vocals. While Black Keys purists might shudder at the growth here, it's undoubtedly the Keys' most versatile and pleasing effort.

Previous list appearances: Magic Potion (#22 in 2006)

Listen at Myspace

6. Dig!!! Lazarus Dig!!! - Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds (Anti)

Put these three songs on your iPod right now: Jesus Of The Moon, Today's Lesson, Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!!

The latest from Cave and the boys seems to have a little more in common with Cave's side-project, Grinderman, than with recent Bad Seeds offerings and that's not a bad thing. A lot of the music is fuzzed-out rock with Cave providing every brilliant narrative in his own, unique slyly evil style. There's even a dirty feel to the softer tunes here, which speaks volumes to the music mood created. And Cave puts as much energy into his lyric-writing as he does the music, which translates to this being one of the better lyrical Cave discs in memory. There's not a lot of radio-friendly material here, but anyone familiar with what Cave and the Seeds can do won't care as this is as strong an studio offering as any since Let Love In.

Previous list appearances: No More Shall We Part (#16 in 2001), Nocturama (#12 in 2003), Abattoir Blues/The Lyre of Orpheus (#11 in 2004)

Listen at Myspace

5. Evil Urges - My Morning Jacket (Ato Records)Put these three songs on your iPod right now: I'm Amazed, Evil Urges, Remnants

I won't go as far as to say this record approaches the flawlessness of Wilco's Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, but I will say that My Morning Jacket appears to be on the same growth arc as that band. MMJ just keeps getting better and singer Jim James further refines his underrated vocals. Gone, thankfully, is the reverb-drenched sound in favor of one more crisp and while the band doesn't really rock out too much on Evil Urges, the cool funky grooves more than make up for it. This is definitely a band on the upswing and I wouldn't be surprised if their next offering supersedes this one. And just a sidenote, "I'm Amazed" is probably my favorite single of the year by any band.

Previous list appearances: It Still Moves (#16 in 2003), Z (#9 in 2005)

Listen at Myspace

4. Accelerate - R.E.M. (Warner Bros.)

Put these three songs on your iPod right now: Living Well Is The Best Revenge, Houston, Supernatural Superserious

Simply put, this is the best R.E.M. offering in over 15 years. Think about that for a minute. I am amazed at the consistency here...each song is excellent in its own way. Peter Buck's playing is reinvigorated. Michael Stipe's vocals are strong. Mike Mills' bass and background vocals are better than ever. The album RAWKS. And there are the standard couple of ballads as well, each of which beats the ever-loving hell out of "Everybody Hurts". Accelerate is an impressive triumph and worthy of many repeated listens, each one offering a bit more of a reward than the last. As someone who has lost a little faith in the Athens, GA band over the years (save for Reveal, which I actually liked), the music here isn't the only thing that is reinvigorated. My interest in the band is as well.

Previous list appearances: Reveal (#12 in 2001)

Listen at Myspace

3. Furr - Blitzen Trapper (Sub Pop)

Put these three songs on your iPod right now: Sleepytime in the Western World, Furr, Five and Fast Bullets

Usually, when I get a disc right before I make my list, I regrettably have to leave it off because I need more time with it before I can properly evaluate its place in the pantheon of my music collection. Not so with this one. Imagine if the Beatles, Wilco, the Minus 5, and the Jayhawks got together and decided to make a psychedelic folky roots rock Americana alt-country record. And that record kicked ass. Voila. You have Furr. There are creepy murderous acoustic numbers, tunes that sound like there are a million instruments being played, and rocking bits as well. Each song benefits from the band's outstanding musicianship, attentiveness to the concept of "the song", and embracing of pop sensibilities. Pretty sure that fans of all music will find at least one song on here they dig.

Listen at Myspace

2. Saturnalia - the Gutter Twins (Sub Pop)

Put these three songs on your iPod right now: Circle the Fringes, The Stations, All Misery/Flowers

While Greg Dulli (Afghan Whigs, Twilight Singers) and Mark Lanegan (Screaming Trees) have often appeared on each other's albums, they never made an entire one together. Let's hope this is the first of many. The debut album of this supergroup of sorts is a dirty, humid, whiskey- and cigarette-fueled alterna-rock disc that you would expect to hear blaring out of some dark-windowed bar in the heat-soaked New Orleans summer. And while the sinister vocals of Lanegan meld fantastically with the gravelly Dulli, this is a full band effort and the musicians here weave an amazing musical tapestry.

Listen at Myspace

1. Consolers of the Lonely - the Raconteurs (Warner Bros.)

Put these three songs on your iPod right now: These Stones Will Shout, Many Shades of Black, Top Yourself

Add the smoothness of Brendan Benson to Jack White's edge and mix it up with one of rock's greatest rhythm sections (Patrick Keeler and Jack Lawrence) and you get a tremendous record. You get some garage grunge, countrified Americana rock, and even a horn-infused epic ("The Switch and the Spur"). There's something for everyone on Consolers of the Lonely, but most importantly, this quartet has mastered having the whole living up to the sum of their amazing individual parts. Putting equal emphasis on catchy melodies and impressive harmonies, the songwriting here is near-flawless.

Previous list appearances: Broken Boy Soldier (#2 in 2006)

Listen at Myspace

Dim's Favorite Discs of 2008, Part 1 (#25-#11)

2009-02-17T12:29:00.030-05:00

OK, yeah, so I know we are well into 2009, but if you couldn't tell, I'm a lazy no-writing bastard which is why it took me so long to get this list together. I won't make any deluded promises that these are the "best" discs of 2008. No, I won't. I'll merely say these are my favorites. So, don't blame me if you pick one up and you think it sucks. It probably just means you have shitty taste in music. It's OK.

25. Help Wanted - Eric Avery (Dangerbird)

Put these three songs on your iPod right now: All Remote and No Control, Belly of an Insect, Song in the Silence (The Who Can Fly, Pt. 7)

A pleasant surprise, this solo effort from Jane's Addiction's original bass player is a richly-textured sonic exercise. While Avery's vocal stylings are limiting, the electronic-tinged rockers and the ambient, softer numbers make for a challenging, but rewarding listen.

Listen at MySpace

24. Voices - Able Baker Fox (Second Nature)

Put these three songs on your iPod right now: Face On Fire, Stuttering, Dead Space

Probably the biggest shocker for me on the list. I was asked to review this disc for a now-defunct on-line music mag and found that I really dig this. It's got a bit of the DC post-punk sound to it and there are parts very reminiscent of Fugazi and Samiam, but the thing that really sets Voices apart is the great use of dual vocals and harmonies. It’s refreshing to hear a slightly discordant band so clearly and the vocals provide interesting melodies without sacrificing some of the gravel that is needed for this genre. If you want something smart, and sprawling with strong vocals that emote impressive melodies and harmonies, this is the disc for you.

Listen at MySpace

23. Knowle West Boy - Tricky (Domino)

Put these three songs on your iPod right now: Slow, Past Mistake, School Gates

All offerings from 90s trip-hop pioneer Tricky after his first release, Maxinquaye, have been hit-or-miss affairs. And while his latest doesn't approach the perfection of that debut, it does represent some of Tricky's strongest work in awhile. The beats range from the subtle and sublime to driving and heavy. As usual, there are guest vocalists abound and while the heavy rasta parts might take a little getting used to, Tricky's expert use of getting the right female voices for his songs is more than evident. As one of the few that actually liked 2003's Vulnerable, Knowle West Boy certainly picks up where that one left off and, wouldn't you know it, Tricky's on a bit of a hot streak.

Previous list appearances: Angels With Dirty Faces (#14 in 1998), Vulnerable (#8 in 2003)

Listen at MySpace

22. Sunshine Lies - Matthew Sweet (Shout Factory)

Put these three songs on your iPod right now: Flying, Sunrise Eyes, Let's Love

While admittedly not as consistent as 1991's seminal masterpiece, Girlfriend, Sweet does a welcomed return to form here. Expect more of the textbook Sweet sound: raucous power pop, searing Richard Lloyd guitar leads, and lavish ballads as he culls his most consistent effort in years. If possible, try to pick up the deluxe edition which has even more audio goodness. Oh, I triple dog dare you to try to get the "Flying"'s guitar riff out of your head once you hear it. Go on. Try.

Previous list appearances: In Reverse (#1 in 1999), Kimi Ga Suki (#6 in 2003)

Listen at MySpace

21. The Secret Machines - The Secret Machines (Tsm Recordings)

Put these three songs on your iPod right now: Atomic Heels, Underneath the Concrete, The Fire is Waiting

More big sounds from these transplanted Texans. With two full-lengths under their belts, the Secret Machines go the eponymous route with their third and the results and along the lines of what you would come to expect: some heavy, plodding tunes, some pensive balladry, and some extended psychedelic rock. The band takes the listener on a Floydian excursion, culminating with the epic in sound and length closer, "The Fire is Waiting". While there are elements of prog-rock here, TSM won't be confused with Yes anytime soon. They are far more brooding and moody. Still, a very strong and consistent release.

Previous list appearances: Now Here Is Nowhere (#12 in 2004), Ten Silver Drops (#18 in 2006)

Listen at MySpace

20. O My Heart - Mother Mother (Last Gang)

Put these songs on your iPod right now: Ghosting, O My Heart, Hayloft

Canada's own Mother Mother are really starting to assert themselves as real players in the quirky indie rock genre. Sounding a little like a less-abrasive Modest Mouse, thanks primary to dual gender vocals from brother and sister Ryan and Molly Guldemond, O My Heart is an enjoyable romp, with some real toe-tapping pop numbers as well as some tunes with interesting enough arrangements to really cause you to sit up and take notice. This release might not hit you on the first listen, but spending time with it only causes it to be more and more rewarding.

Listen at MySpace

19. Red Of Tooth And Claw - Murder By Death (Vagrant)

Put these songs on your iPod right now: Coming Home, Fuego!, A Second Opinion

The latest from this hard-to-categorize Indiana quartet offers more of the same shantyish, murderously evil tales of the devil, whiskey, and a protagonist whose motives are a little cloudy. Adam Turla continues to channel both Johnny Cash and Elvis Presley with a baritone that sounds older than his years. The rest of the band is very tight musically and while the particular narrative of this offering is a little looser than my personal Murder By Death favorite, Who Will Survive and What Will Be Left of Them, it still offers more in the way of a story than most bands do these days. And when taking a listen, be sure to keep an ear out for Sarah Balliet's sublimely wonderful cello-accents; definitely something that sets the band apart from others.

Previous list appearances: In Bocca al Lupo (#4 in 2006)

Listen at MySpace

18. Third - Portishead (Mercury)

Put these songs on your iPod right now: Silence, Machine Gun, Nylon Smile

Wow, has it really been 11 years since the last studio release? Portishead picks up where they left off, basically schooling everyone in the genre of electronica/trip-hop and showing all imitators how it is done. This is not an easy listening record. Some of the sounds are abrasive. Beth Gibbons' ghostly wail can be challenging on the ears at times. But that is the beauty of Portishead. They push to the limit and always seem to produce wonderful noise that is not for everyone. The samples and programs are impeccably integral to the sound, as is the omni-present Gibbons. A welcomed return.

Previous list appearances: Portishead (#4 in 1997)

Listen at MySpace

17. Vampire Weekend - Vampire Weekend (Xl Recordings)

Put these songs on your iPod right now: Oxford Comma, Mansard Roof, Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa

This band has had more buzz surrounding it than a fucking apiary and, from what I can discern, it is largely because they sound pretty much like no other band out there, unless the Strokes decided that they were way too overproduced, had way too much guitar, and had way too little in the way of strings and African music influence. I dig what I hear here and I’m not sure why. It’s different. It might take awhile to get into. But it’s true to itself and unapologetic indie/reggae/classical/Afro pop. And it doesn’t suck. That counts for something.

Listen at MySpace

16. Some People Have Real Problems - Sia (Hear Music)

Put these three songs on your iPod right now: Beautiful Calm Driving, Buttons, Soon We'll Be Found

Zero 7's Sia Furler has such a unique sounding voice that it is often polarizing. Some love it, some not so much. I fall in with the former and her latest offering provides her unique and immediately recognizable vocals with some outstanding musical orchestration. While most of the album, and the strongest parts, are slow burners with Furler's sometimes soulful, sometimes airy vocals taking center stage, she also surprises with some unabashed pop which she performs with equal ease and success. While Sia's sound may take some warming up to, once you do, it's apparent she is currently one of modern rock's most underrated voices; one that you can't help but take notice of.

Previous list appearances: Colour the Small One (#17 in 2006)

Listen at MySpace

15. Sunday at Devil Dirt - Isobel Campbell & Mark Lanegan (V2)

Put these three songs on your iPod right now: Come On Over (Turn Me On), Seafaring Song, Who Built The Road

A magazine reviewed this duet's 2006 release as Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf make a record and Sunday at Devil Dirt certainly perpetuates that idea. Lanegan's deep vocals are off-set gorgeously by Campbell's fragile, ethereal sound. The music here has a ghostly quality to it as well: well-placed bells and strings certainly set the musical mood. This is pretty mellow stuff, but mellow stuff with substance.

Previous list appearances: Ballad of the Broken Seas (#5 in 2006)

Listen at MySpace

14. Lie Down in the Light - Bonnie "Prince" Billy (Drag City)

Put these three songs on your iPod right now: You Want That Picture, Lie Down in the Light, Other's Gain

The fragile and fractured acoustic folky rock of Bonnie "Prince" Billy returns with a shockingly bright offering. The instrumentation here is excellent: Billy's omnipresent acoustic guitar is augmented by piano, slide guitar, and some lavish background vocals. Lie Down in the Light certainly exposes Billy as a songwriter extraordinaire also shows that he doesn't just write dark, sullen tunes.

Previous list appearances: The Letting Go (#9 in 2006)

Listen at MySpace

13. The Renaissance - Q-Tip (Universal Motown)

Put these three songs on your iPod right now: Shaka, WeFight/WeLove, Life is Better

The former leader of A Tribe Called Quest continues where the band left off, with mature, groove- and jazz-oriented hip hop. If you are looking for gangstas and ho's, move along, but if you want to explore the true beauty and poetry of rap, along with remarkable music, experience The Renaissance.

Listen at MySpace

12. Langhorne Slim - Langhorne Slim (Kemado)

Put these three songs on your iPod right now: The Rebel Side Of Heaven, Hummingbird, Restless

The Pennsylvania native, now based out of New York, has always been a bit of an acquired taste and his latest, self-titled effort is no different. But from jangly acoustic stomps that get your leg bouncing to poignant and thoughtful ballads, Slim meticulously constructs a rather brief effort that is both fun and heartbreaking.

Listen at MySpace

11. Death Magnetic - Metallica (Warner Bros.)

Put these three songs on your iPod right now: The Judas Kiss, All Nightmare Long, The Day That Never Came

That's right. I'm not too proud to put a Metallica disc on this list. While saying this is their most solid effort since ...And Justice for All might be damning with faint praise, the truth of the matter is that this is heavy, fast, and groovy. Just how I like my hard rock. Fine, James Hetfield's lyrics will probably cause your eyes to roll, but the dual-guitar attack and the epic layout of the songs certainly overcome any lyrical flaws (that appear on almost every Metallica album anyway). Glad I gave this band one more chance, because they certainly redeemed themselves for their questionable last few studio releases with Death Magnetic.

Previous list appearances: Reload (#15 in 1997) <= What the hell was I thinking? Reload was HORRIBLE!

Listen at MySpace

Coming soon...the top 10.

Concert-Going for Dummies, Part 2

2009-02-08T09:04:00.004-05:00

Over three years ago, I wrote this pleasant piece. It was aimed at my fellow concert-going brethren and its purpose was to create an educational manual if you will that would allow all of us to enjoy the concert-going experience more. I would enjoy said experience more because I wouldn't have to put up with the annoying assholes and the annoying assholes would enjoy the experience more because they would cease being annoying assholes and, because of this, wouldn't have to be killed by me, pretty much ruining any future show for the both of us.

But people really don't listen.

So, while I link to the above blog entry and implore you to read it, absorb it, embrace it, and make it part of your daily lifestyle, I'm going to give you a couple of other helpful hints now in the sincere hopes that these hints will one day save you from having your neck wrung by me. I wish I was exaggerating.

Here's one for the staff at the venue:

Put away the indelible marker and Houdini-esque bracelets.

Last night we went to see this band. It's bad enough that we were herded into the venue and had orders barked at us (stay to the right! ID in your left hand! Tickets in the right!) with all the warmth and compassion of a Nazi SS officer, but once in the venue we were immediately and permanently branded.

Old bastards like myself were given the "all clear" to drink overpriced beer with a flimsy-looking adhesive bracelet that was put on my "RIGHT WRIST!" (or so he barked) by our friendly host. Don't let the description of this bracelet fool you. While it looks like it is made out of the same stuff that lines the examination tables at your local doctor's office, it is actually made out of the strongest substance ever known to man. To take this off at the end of the night, you need a blow torch, garden shears, and kryptonite. And, because our doorman ogre doesn't exactly score well in the "Pays close attention to detail" part of his annual performance review, he invariably attaches the adhesive part a little askew so a small part of this adhesive from hell sticks to the hair on my "RIGHT WRIST!" Removing this at the end of the night involves screams of absolute torture as this Martian glue proceeds to rip two layers of skin off my "RIGHT WRIST!" It's hard to really enjoy a concert in retrospect when you are pouring Bactine directly into your hypodermis.

Those less fortunate to be born after 1987 had the tops of both hands tattooed with enormous black x's that looked like they were put on with a paint roller. This is the subtle hint to the bartenders that those with the mark of the beast are unable to drink. The lack of subtlety comes with this Nathanial Hawthorne-esque permanence of The Opaque X. For, in order to remove it once the concert is over, one needs turpentine, lye, and a sandblaster.

Now, I'm not one to encourage underage drinking at all, but let's be serious. What could possibly do more damage? Exposing a minor to paint remover, caustic soda, and heavy machinery or allowing them to pound a Pabst Blue Ribbon? Which brings me to my next point.

Don't drink shitty beers. In case you were wondering, this category includes, and is headed by, Pabst Blue Ribbon or "PBR" according to the hipsters. Actually, let me amend this. It's not that you can't drink shitty beers, but don't be proud of drinking shitty beers. These new, young members of the alcohol drinking public confidently strut up to the bar, lean in and say with the pride of a boasting parent, "PBR!" as if a hush should fall over the entire crowd while everyone looks at the bar patron, gives him forceful nod of acceptance, and then raises their cans of equally shitty beers to pledge their allegiance to the USA (Useless Swill of Alcohol).

So, this dumb kid slaps down three clams and then emerges from the bar crowd holding a can of PBR the size of Rocky Dennis' head like it was the fucking Stanley Cup.

Look man, I know you would rather put the money mommy and daddy gave you toward a new shirt from Abercrombie that is about two sizes too small for you and would actually even look tight on Karen Carpenter, but maybe you should put it toward drinking slightly better beer instead.
Remember this video? It's funny to watch the monkey. It's not funny to be the monkey. You are the monkey.

Speaking of fashion, I really have to address the people who just try too damn hard to look weird. I realize these kids just moved out of their parents' house and are on their own for the first time and want to look like idiots, but what became of subtlety? First of all, Corey Hart, it's 11:30 at night in a basement venue where I can't see my hand in front of my face. Unless you are Stevie Wonder or an albino, take the fucking shades off.

And the facial hair. Look, I'm probably not one to talk about this given my history of really long sideburns, soul patches, chin pubes, and even a fucking handlebar mustache, but those things looked fantastic on me. I'm talking about the dummies that cultivate facial hair that looks like a cross between a Civil War general and Chewbacca. What exactly are you trying to say with that?

Tattoos. Does everyone have them now? I don't, but it certainly seems like I am now in a minority. I don't mind someone having a little ink, but I wonder how our leather-clad friend with the neck tat is going to feel when he is 70 and his gobbler is hanging lower than a Thanksgiving turkey's. That's gonna look sweet.

And the piercings. Good lord. I'll forgo talking about the lips, nose, septum, eyebrow, mustache area, and naughty parts. I'm talking about those people who put the massively huge things in their ears that stretch their lobes out like Elastic Man. I saw one dude last night that had holes in his lobes, stretched out with hoops, that were about three inches in diameter. So, if you were looking at his lobes straight on, you could see the person standing behind him. I didn't know whether to go up to him and pat him on the back or grab hold of each hoop, do a gymnastic routine, and dismount on his face.

Lighters. Come on. 1983 called and they want their REO Speedwagon concert back. The only time you should bust out a lighter during a concert is after you have doused yourself with gasoline after you have realized what a horrible concert-goer you really are.

Stop taking pictures with your crappy cell phone. OK, I am dating myself, but my first cell phone came in a piece of Samsonite luggage. I had to charge it by hooking it up to the nearest nuclear power plant and needed to wear a hat with a giant satellite dish on it just to get reception. But guess what? It worked. It made phone calls. Which is what a phone is supposed to do. Phone. Phone calls. But these dummies hold up their Razrs 200 feet away from the stage and snap a pic and then shake their heads disparagingly upon inspection of their photographic genius to find out that the band are the size of Lilliputians. You know why your pictures suck? Because you are using your phone!

Which brings me to the thing I am sure will cause the end of civilization: texting. Stop fucking texting during the show! "im @ the show OMG theyre playing LOL r u comin latr rotfl" Here's a keyboard shortcut for you: FU. Maybe I am just jealous because it is impossible for me to efficiently text because my cell phone doesn't have a keyboard, it just has the regular number touchpad. So, what happens is I want to start a word that begins with "r". I need to hit the "7" three times. My thumb spazzes and I hit it four times. I get an "s". I don't want an "s". I get flustered and wait too long (which I have timed as about three nanoseconds) and the cursor moves which confuses me so I hit the "7" again and now I have "ss" when I want an "r" and I then confuse the back button with what is apparently an unlabeled "save this text abomination as a draft" button, so instead of clearing "ss", I have now saved it in my draft messages for posterity. I leave my "ss" message in my draft folder to not only gaze upon it in admiration of my texting prowess but also because I never know when someone is going to be on that "Millionaire" show and need a lifeline and I get a text saying, "Dim. 20 seconds. What was the name of the boat from 'Gilligan's Island'?" If I have that draft "ss" message all set to go, I have a head start on the answer. Take THAT Meredith Viera!

Finally, I feel the need to repeat something from the first Concert-Going for Dummies that seems to have gone unheeded. I can't put this anymore simply than this:

Shut

The Fuck

Up.

Use this rule: The only time you should speaking at a concert is if, while you were out for a butt, a UFO landed right in front of you and out came Jesus Christ, Elvis, and Sasquatch and they gave you a formula for eternal life for all of humanity. And even then, shut you pie hole until the house lights come up and the crappy techno music plays, lest I spackle your yap closed forever.

Besides, why would you want to talk to someone next to you when you can just text them with your camera that occasionally receives phone calls!

Man, I'm getting old.

- Dim.

Tagged

2009-02-01T11:07:00.002-05:00

Just me... was nice enough to tag me, which I actually do appreciate just so I can get my ass writing again! Honestly, I am currently working on my top CDs of 2008 a la March, so that's taken up some time. Once that is done, I hope to have some sort of semi-regular update here, since something wacky is always going on in Dim City.

So, here is 25 random things about me. And I've covered some of these things before in this here blog, so feel free to dig around in the archives if you are interested in knowing even MORE about Dim.

I currently have 12,144 songs on my iPod.
I am an only child.
I was once appeared in Rolling Stone Magazine. Proof.
The two most commented on blog entries in the history of Dim City were my rant on MySpace and my rant on Rachael Ray.
I collect editions of Animal Farm by George Orwell.
I am currently extremely unhappy about my weight. I had a picture taken of me last night and I looked like a house. Let's hope the camera phone puts on about 40 pounds.
I got married at age 33.
We are about to celebrate our second year in our house and I really, really love it. But I am worried that we might outgrow it and that bothers me.
My two current TV show crushes are Yvonne Strahovski from "Chuck" and Connie Britton from "Friday Night Lights".
The above is OK to admit, because my wife told me she had a dream about Taylor Kitsch and I see how she looks at Zachary Levi!
I graduated from a Catholic high school and a Catholic college, but am not a terribly obedient Catholic, though there are aspects of that religion I whole-heartedly believe in.
My degree is in Criminal Justice, with a minor in Psychology and my job has nothing to do with either.
Our house currently holds 2 acoustic/electric guitars, 2 electric guitars, a bass guitar, a mandolin, a ukelele, an electric piano, and a violin. And a musical Egg.
I once broke a chair allegedly belonging to Henry Kissinger on New Year's Eve.
I love to cook and probably make the best eggplant parm you've ever had.
I once grew my hair long and donated it to Locks of Love. I'm growing it out again, but there's a little more grey in it this time and I don't think they'll want it unless some poor kid really wants to look like Taylor Hicks. Kudos to my darling wife who has done this TWICE.
I once grew an OUTRAGEOUS handlebar mustache!
My wife and I enjoy playing open mics, but we've regrettably not done one in over two years.
I am strangely very stoked about the new Watchmen movie and loved the book despite not being a comic book or graphic novel fan.
My wife and I cut our wedding cake to "Hesitating Beauty" by Billy Bragg and Wilco and had our first dance to Norah Jones' "Come Away With Me" (though Mazzy Star's "Fade Into You" was my first choice).
I own far too many CDs and DVDs.
I have a thing for redheads (luckily, my wife is one, so it's OK!)
I hate hate hate supernatural horror movies and refuse to watch them. The only exception being The Others, which was far more suspense and thriller than horror.
I am a total hypochondriac (undiagnosed!)
I had a bitch of a time coming up with 25 random things about me.

I tag anyone who actually still reads this blog! (crickets chirping...)

- Dim.

Helping Out

2009-01-16T12:38:00.012-05:00

Many apologies to the few readers I have for being MIA for so long. Truth be told, I was abducted by aliens and held aboard a ship while a Dim imposter who didn't like to write, wasn't funny, and was apparently about 25 pounds over ideal weight took my place on terra firma.

The real Dim is back now and getting caught up on what I've missed. Hopefully, my blog entries will be slightly more numerous, as long as I can get over my sensitivity to light, extreme headaches, sore bum, and irrational fear of Drew Barrymore. But that imposter fucker still left me with that extra poundage.

In the meantime, I'm sure you know I am a major fanboy of Neko Case. She's got a new album coming out soon called Middle Cyclone that I am beyond jazzed to hear. In the meantime, her label (ANTI-) has been cool enough to donate $5 to Best Friends Animal Society, a cause very close to Neko's heart, for every blog that posts a link to her new song, "People Got a Lotta Nerve".

Nice, huh?

Well, because I simply adore Neko and definitely like dogs, I am partaking. Yes, after my extraterrestrial ordeal, the one thing that got me posting again was dear Neko tugging at my heart strings. That, and I've just recently been able to sit in my desk chair due to all of the alien, uh, exploration of where no man has ever gone before.

So, here you are. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Neko Case. Listen to her. Buy her discs. Go see her live.

Best Friends Animal Society, I happily give you a finski. Well, ANTI- is really giving you the finski, but if there was no Dim City, you'd have one less finksi. So, technically, I am giving you a finski. I just like typing finski, can you tell?

And dear readers, it certainly wouldn't kill you to post this yourself, would it? To find out how, go here.

Now, get listening:

People Got A Lot Of Nerve by Neko Case

Neko's Myspace

Dim Gets Fitted for a Tux

2008-08-28T08:13:00.004-05:00

OK, before you all get your collective panties in a bunch, fear not. I will be blogging about all three of those options eventually, but due to me still working off a hangover from our long weekend vacation getaway, I decided to do the one that was the shortest. So, here goes.

My cousin is getting married in October and I was asked to be an usher or whatever the "not-the-best-man" thing is that requires me to miss out on the free cocktails and appetizers while I stand like a mannequin getting an infinite amount of pictures taken of me while everyone else is having fun. Yeah, thanks, it's a real honor.

Anyway, the way his tux place did it was, rather than going into their affiliated tux place and trying on the exact tux I will be wearing, they sent a postcard to me instructing me to go to a tailor and have them put down all of these absurd measurements and send it back to them (with my own stamp no less). I'm not exaggerating when I tell you there were 118 different things they had to measure, including IQ, oxygen intake, length of ear lobes, inseam, and inseam-when-happy-in-the-pants. Needless to say, I put off this torturous event for as long as we could.

Finally, we figured out a place near us that would do this for nothing. It is a very fancy men's clothier in a local mall. I would like to protect their anonymity in this story, so I will refer them by an alias: Joe A. Place-where-you-keep-your-money. Xteen and I went there on a recent Saturday in a bit of a rush and I was hardly dressed for such fanciness, but we were told there was a tailor on the premesis who could do this for me.

Little did I know it was Borat.

We walk into the joint and the only people we saw were the poor bastards who worked there. I should have expected that out of a place that sells $1,400 suits that happens to be situated between a Red Robin and a Game Stop. I see a lady there and refresh her memory about our phone call a mere 20 minutes prior. She instructs me to the back of the store where she will get the tailor.

We get there and she goes to get him. He comes out. He's older. Maybe in his 60s. A little on the short side. And he knows absolutely nothing. And English isn't his first language. In fact, it might have been a distant 5th behind Whateverstan or Whateverslav, Sanskrit, Morse code, Pig latin, and Vulcan. But he has one of those tape measures around his neck and his title, to the best of my knowledge is fucking TAILOR, so I figure he knows what he is doing.

He starts taking measurements by reading the card and then repeating out loud what it says.

"Chest".

He then takes five seconds to register where the chest actually is, probably recalling a distant time where he played Operation. Fine with me, as long as he's prepared to get the buzzer if he gets a little too close to my inseam, if you know what I mean.

He measures my chest.

"44", he announces to no one in particular. He looks at me and then at the card. "I don't have a pen", I said.

It then takes Ricky Ricardo and Lucy 10 minutes to find a pen so I can write down "44" under "chest". At this point, I am annoyed, but not worried, because the 44 sounds familiar to me as far as chest goes. And, if you are wondering, no, I'm not ripped. That's all man-boob, baby.

He continues:

"Neck"

He pauses, tries to picture me with a red light bulb for a nose, and then measures my wishbone.

Just kidding, he knew where my neck is. And he had me write down a number that sounded vaguely familiar when it comes to my neck size. And if you are wondering, no, I'm not ripped. That's 100% goiter, baby!

Then things get dicey.

He stares at a word as if it was one of those Cryptogram puzzles, which to him, it probably was. He tries to sound it out.

"Trow"

"Ser"

"Trouser"

He turns to Lucy.

"You have some 'splainin' to do!"

"What's this?", he asks.

"Trouser", she says.

"What is trouser", he asks.

Outside I am smiling.

Inside, I am screaming, "YOU ARE A FUCKING TAILOR!!!"

Lucy gives a guffaw and says, "Pant".

So, he pants.

OK, so he didn't. But I was expecting him to.

He smacks his head in a "I should have had a V8" kind of manner that inexplicably fills me with even less confidence that I had mere nanoseconds before.

He goes to measure my waist. He does this over my jeans, over my belt, and over the chain that is attached to my wallet (not because I am trying to be emo, but because I used to lose my wallet a lot). He tells me a number that would make Dom Deluise's arteries constrict with embarrassment.

He proceeds with measuring my inseam. He gets down and is in front of me as we strike a pose from the NC17 version of Brokeback Mountain. Xteen, recognizing that this dude's measurements are about as off as his ability to string together a three-word sentence, mouths to me, "Let's go". I mouth back, "No." "Why?", she mouths. "Because he has his head in my crotch", I silently say. Jeez, this would be so much easier if we had telepathy.

My inseam sounds about right, miraculously, but I almost lay him out with a devastating right hook when he tells he in perfect English, "And there is no discernable difference between your normal inseam and your inseam when you are happy in the pants. I'm sorry for your wife."

OK, that didn't happen either. He would have needed a fucking yardstick to measure my happy pants inseam! Hoo ha!

He looks at another word. He doesn't understand it.

"What is this?"

"Hips"

"What is hips?"

Lucy laughs and points to her hips. Then she did the hokey pokey and turned herself around. That really is what it is all about.

I say, "You don't have to measure that. I'll just put down 'child-bearing'."

He then retreats behind his Wizard of Oz curtain to procure a hard ruler for some measurement that escapes my memory, but was probably for my ear lobes. It takes three people 15 minutes to find said instrument.

At this point, I have wasted a good amount of time and was dying to leave. I just said I would fill in all the rest.

We leave and both of us agree I need to get a second opinion on all of this. Xteen remembers a woman who does some tailoring for her. I decide to go to her the next week.

She younger than the dude at the Joe, but she is the female Borat. She speaks a little better, but her measurement skills were apparently honed at the same school as her male counterpart: "The Academy of No One Here Knows What the Fuck They are Doing". These two must have been the valedictorians.

To my absolute amazement, her measurements are close to Ricky Ricardo's. This includes a waist measurement that is 6 inches more than I usually wear and a sleeve that about 10 inches shorter than what I buy. So, basically, according to these two geniuses, I am a morbidly obese 6 foot tall guy with the arms of a dwarf. Try picturing that for a minute.

And to add insult to injury, she merely asked me my inseam. She didn't even get within 3 feet of my junk.

So, after getting a second corroborating opinion, I decide that these two must know what they are doing after all and I must be insane. I'm convinced I should send in the card, as is, and hope for the best despite the pleas from Xteen and virtually everyone in my family to call the tux place and talk to someone who was born in this hemisphere.

I finally acquiesce and it's a good thing I did. Turns out all the measurements were pretty much taken incorrectly, and if I sent in the card as-is, I would have ended up with a tux that looked like this:

"You may ask yourself...what the hell is going on here??"

- Dim.

Incubating

2008-08-19T17:23:00.002-05:00

Thanks to Hotwire and B. for calling me out. B., your message made me laugh out loud.

I'm here and OK, but quite uninspired. As a quote from Rusty's and JG's favorite Andrew Lloyd Webber musical goes, "Once I was inspired, but now I'm sad and tired."

I'm not really sad, but boy am I tired! I'm trying to think of things to blog about and am coming up a little empty. I have some potential topics, so here you go. I'm heading out on a quick vacation, but when I come back, I'll blog about what you want to hear about, so leave a comment and I'll get to it upon my return next week. And maybe, something Dim-like would have happened on vacation that requires me to blog about it too.

Here are your cryptic choices:

The Great Thunderstorm of 7/1/08
"You have mice. And a wood peck."
Dim Gets Fitted for a Tux

Unfortunately, that's all I can come up with right now that is even vaguely blog-worthy. None are particularly funny, especially if you are me, so keep that in mind when you make your choice.

- Dim.

Robert Plant and Alison Krauss at the Bank of America Pavilion, Boston, MA - 06/05/08

2008-06-12T14:19:00.015-05:00

Yes, this concert took place a week ago. I just got around to writing about it because I was just able to pick my jaw up off the floor. You should also probably know that this is the show for which my ticket-buying experience yielded this scathing anti-Ticketmaster post.

Anyway, we ended up with four perfectly decent seats for this show when we ultimately were able to get in and actually purchase them. The cool thing about this venue is that it is relatively small...no bad seats. It's an outdoor semi-tent, so when you are seated, if you look behind you, you see the incomparable Boston skyline and if you look to your front, you can see the planes taking off from Logan, since it is right near the airport.

Anyway, we had decent seats for this, but given my complete fanatical attitude for this show and my love of this disc, I wanted excellent seats. Not just OK ones.

I scoped out Ticketbastard in the weeks leading up to the show in the hopes of upgrading our seats. No such luck. Good seats on eBay were unsurprisingly out of King Midas' price range. I resigned myself to the fact that we would all have just OK seats and continued to damn Ticketmaster every chance I could.

Then, the day before the show, I went on Ticketbastard and miraculously pulled 4 seats (me and Xteen were going with our friend Jesus Joe and his new fiancee..congrats, man!) that were a little better than the ones we had. Not enough to make me pull the trigger on them, especially since we would have to get rid of the tickets we already had at the last minute, which would not be easy. I threw them back. Just for fun, I edited my selection to look for 2 tickets. I pulled up these:

Go ahead. Click on it to make it bigger. I couldn't believe my eyes either.

My heart just pounded like it used to when I would stumble upon a Shannon Tweed Cinemax After Dark Friday night showing when I was 14. My first call was to Jesus. Joe, that is. Not the real Jesus. Unless you think that Joe IS the real Jesus. I personally don't (no offense to Jesus Joe), but I'm sure some people do. You might. In that case, no offense to you either). I explain the situation to Joe, which sucks for him, since I only pulled two (even though I tried to get 4 all along). He laughs a bit and basically says "Hey, what can you do? It's front row." So, I very guiltily purchased them (yes, I paid The Man. Again!) with the promise that we would get Jesus and his gal down to the front row for a few songs during the set. We'd just swap seats. It's really the least I could do and it did small wonders for alleviating my guilt.

Now, the process of unloading the two tickets I had. I paid probably about $150 total for them, so my initial message out to friends and co-workers was for $100. No takers. I had some that would have been interested, but the last minute nature of the whole thing threw them off. I ended up having a friend throw them up on eBay for a last-minute auction. $50 minimum bid. For TWO tickets. $25 a piece. I'd be taking such a serious bath on these tickets that I should require the winner to provide me with a rubber ducky. But guess what? Not a single bid. I pretty much resigned myself to eating these two tickets, but said I would check out the scene outside the venue when we got down there and see what I could do. I'm not exactly Mike Damone, scalper extraordinaire, so I wasn't too optimistic.

Xteen and I pick up our friend Simone on the way in as she bought my friend Rubin's extra tickets a few days before. Got that? We head in to meet Jesus Joe and his soon-to-be better half as well as Simone's pal Mike. Once down there (by the way, it's early June and it is miserable out...cool, damp, cloudy, misty), Xteen and I go to join Jesus Joe and the missus and Simone hangs somewhere else awaiting Mike.

Immediately, I am greeted by a scalper outside the venue. It's like 3 and a half hours before the show. He asks if I need tickets. I laugh and ask if he needs them. He asks where they are. I tell him and he offers me $20 apiece for them. I turn him down and he replies, "Yeah, you'll probably get more than that later. No one has seats that close to sell." I felt like laughing..."and these aren't even my GOOD seats, illegal ticket reselling dude!" I walk away convinced that'll I'll probably be able to snag about 2 large plus a hickey from Kate Beckinsale for these puppies. Nice haul, says I. Clearly, the ticket gods are with Dim on this day.

The four of us end up dining at this place that recently got cited for being dangerously close to falling into Boston Harbor. One of the views from said restaurant is of another seafood joint, that recently had like an 18 alarm fire and is a total loss, including the 36 tons of lobster held therein. Not a good sign.

Food was good, the Sam Summers were better, and there was even a Red Sox/Tampa Bay brawl on the TV before we left for the show. Sort of tempered the confusing karma I had going on. Nothing like a benches-clearing brawl with grown men pulling hair and grabbing nuts and swinging punches to make me feel better about my cosmic place in the universe.

We move along toward the venue and I am pretty much just holding my extra tickets out to gauge interest. I got my incredible seats from the will-call window and had everyone look at them just to make sure I wasn't losing my mind. So, I'm a little discreet and understated in trying to unload my old tickets. I'm not exactly boisterous in my sales pitch. This is not a good marketing ploy and I would not recommend it if you ever decide you need to sell something.

Jesus Joe takes a walk to gauge interest himself and comes back laughing. Not a good sign.

Simone and Mike meet up with us and Simone is laughing that I haven't been able to unload the tickets yet. Lots of laughing going on. None by me. Not a good sign.

Simone and Mike then get REALLY into trying to sell my tickets for me. Like REALLY into it. I'm embarrassed enough, but secretly hoping their strategy of being very friendly pays off. Honestly, they sound like carnival hawkers. It's entertaining to everyone other than me, who starts sweating despite it being like 60 degrees out.

Then a guy with a raging skullet (in fact, it might have actually been David Crosby) comes up. "Where and how much?" he asks. I tell him and keep it reasonable. I ask for $80, which, mind you, is about half of what I paid for them. Skulletman already has tickets. I look at his and realize to myself these aren't going to be much of an upgrade and I don't think he realizes it. He offers me $40. I say no and he walks away. Xteen then proceeds to say "Dim" about a hundred and eighty times. She wants me to take the 40 beans. I'm no whore, I say. I just paid the same company I have been bitching incessantly about TWICE for the same show. I'm not just going to give them away. I give a solitary, convincing nod. And then vomit into the harbor.

Fast forward about five minutes and I am trying to just give the fucking tickets away. I'd settle for a Lincoln and a peck on the cheek from Bea Arthur at this point. You'd seriously think I am trying to sell tickets to an ebola conference. I see the scalper from earlier in the day. He says "Bet you wish you took the $40, huh?" I punch him in the balls.

Right in front of me some sleazy older guy sells his ticket, for face value mind you, to a girl who not only will get to sit in worse seats than the ones I have, but also have to sit with this sleazy older guy. I throw my hands up. Clearly the ticket gods have a bullseye right on my manjunk right now.

At this point, I say fuck it and decide to eat the tickets. Quite literally. After I'm done chewing, the four of us (me, Xteen, Simone, and Mike) hear a ruckus. In front of the venue, some guido cruises up absolutely fucking BLARING "Kashmir" by Led Zeppelin in his car. He sees the crowd and frantically rolls down all his windows and fumbles for a CB (yes, a CB) into which he sings the lyrics, off-key of course, and they broadcast out of his car. What is he driving, you ask? An IROC? A Firebird? Try a late model Toyota Corolla. I'm not kidding. Not a good sign, despite Simone's attempts to convince me that seeing that was worth eating the tickets. I'm conflicted. Losing money, yes. A guido singing "Kashmir" into a CB that's part of a souped up Corolla? Borderline priceless.

So, we convene to the venue and I buy a poster and we head to our seats. And they really are the front fucking row. I've never ever had seats even remotely close to this. I'm practically salivating at seeing every sharpei-like wrinkle on Robert Plant's mug. The couple next to us asks how we got the tickets. I tell them. They mention that they won their seats in a charity auction. For $600 apiece. I don't feel so bad about what I paid especially since 100% of the proceeds went to the Holy Shit Dim is Three Feet Away from Alison Krauss and Robert Plant Foundation. Then, I notice like 3 fratboys sitting behind us. One has his head in his hands and is rocking back and forth. Not a good sign.

The lights go down and the place erupts. The absolutely amazing backing band slowly takes the stage and I would be incredibly remiss if I neglected to mention who they were even though you have no fucking idea who they are: the fantastic Jay Bellerose on drums (who I saw drumming for Grant-Lee Phillips last year and was impressed then as well), Dennis Crouch on the stand-up bass, Buddy Miller on guitar, and multi-instrumentalist Stuart Duncan who kicked in fabulously on fiddle, mandolin, guitar, and banjo. This band was truly professional and so responsible for how good everything sounded that night.

The band leader, the person whose brainchild this whole collaboration was, was the amazing T-Bone Burnett. His arrangements on these songs, his vision to get these two artists together, and his guitar work were all sublimely glorious. He got a lot of whooping and hollering from me throughout the night.

T-Bone walks out on stage amid the band starting the ultra-cool and vibrating lead track of "Raising Sand", "Rich Woman". The music is spot on...very tight. And then Plant and Krauss walk on the stage and we are instantly amazed at their presence and how good they are. The digital camera immediately comes out and Xteen is being respectful...no flash. We look, disappointed at the two shots taken. I look at her and say "Fuck it. We're using the flash." Seriously, with all the camera phones out there, who is gonna care? Besides, if any security people came up, I would say, "Look. I paid $1,200 for these seats and the money went to charity, so I am taking fucking pictures, OK?!?"

I won't bore you with the setlist, only to say that it was incredible. There was a sultry swinged out version of the Zeppelin hit "Black Dog". Plant took the reins for Allen Toussaint's "Fortune Teller", which segued beautifully into an uplifting duet of "In the Mood" a solo song of his from his "The Principle of Moments" offering. The whole time, the band clicked perfectly, with nary a note out of place. Krauss added fiddle accents as well as her absolutely perfect pitch vocals and Plant explored vocal stylings I never thought were possible for a hard rock wailer like himself. Their disposition on stage took on different characters. At times, they were playful and thoroughly enjoying each other's interaction. Other times, they seemed very businesslike, determined to absolutely nail the song (which they always did). But the whole time, you could feel the immense and reciprocal respect they had for each other and their amazing band. And they always seemed to have fun.

We were complete and total geeks...hollering and waving and taking pictures. I was cheering hard for T-Bone and gave him the "rock on" salute and he nodded and gave me back the Vulcan hand gesture. Finally, a GOOD sign.

The set continued and we ultimately left our seats about 45 minutes in to switch with Joe and L. Figures, when they got to the good seats, both Plant and Krauss had left the stage to let Burnett do a few songs on his own. Luckily, they stuck around to hear what turned out to be their favorite song before they swapped back.

Krauss' vocals were just so amazingly perfect. Her haunting take of Tom Waits' "Trampled Rose" was mind-blowing as was her a capella take on her own tune, "Down to the River to Pray".

As great as their solo pieces were, though, nothing resonated as much as the duets from their brilliant disc. The slow, somber "Killing the Blues" was magical as was "Nothing". The dedication of "Who Do You Love" to the recently deceased Bo Diddley (featuring Plant on harmonica) was a nice touch and added a welcomed uptempo song to the set.

But as truly jaw-dropping as the whole performance was, nothing could beat the experience of witnessing the performance of one certain song near the end of the main set. When Stuart Duncan started the song off with a delicate mandolin intro, everyone erupted knowing Krauss and Plant were going to tackle the epic "Battle of Evermore" from Led Zeppelin's seminal fourth album. To call the performance of this song transcendent would be selling it short. It was historic. Easily one of the best songs I have ever seen performed anywhere. Plant laid down his familiar Lord of the Rings narrative while Krauss added the ethereal supplements originally sung by Sandy Denny. It was just an incredible performance to start. And then, the end. Just perfect. Plant again, with his rock solid lead vocals, but instead of providing an airy veil in the background, Krauss decided to absolutely wail and explore registers I have never heard her sing before. Just a completely staggering and awe-inspiring performance.

The set ended wonderfully, with the tremendous single, "Please Read the Letter" and the shuffling Everly Brothers cover "Gone Gone Gone". They waved good night and Alison laughed at the adulation I was showing her with my goofy faces and pointing. We had great interaction with T-Bone as well.

After a short break, the band came back, followed by the two mega-stars. The highlights of the encore was the Krauss-led Zeppelin cover of "When the Levee Breaks" and the glorious and gorgeous closer, "Your Long Journey".

At some point in the encore, Xteen looked at her feet and noticed a guitar pick that T-Bone threw out. She snagged it and it now resides on the poster, hanging up on our wall. As the band took their final bow, and Plant and Krauss took extended waves, I couldn't help but think not of the skullet or the money thrown away, but of what I just saw and how it was one of the top three concerts of the hundreds I have seen.

One of the fratboys agreed with me. The same one who previously opined during the show "If this is what heaven is like, I want to die right now", proclaimed "I'm not the same person I was when I first got here." He's right. When he first got in here, he didn't subsequently vomit up his $10 Bud Lights and a sausage from the enigmatically named "Sausage Guy".

I kid.

Oh, and we got the setlist. Definitely a good sign. See?

And here are some pics we took. Yes, we were that close.

And some video clips from "The Battle of Evermore":

Enjoy! Now, go get the disc!

- Dim.

This and That

2008-05-22T11:39:00.006-05:00

B. asked me to blog about my "special day". That "special day" was a week ago, on the 15th, when I turned 29 again for the nth time. Funny, thing, B., that day wasn't too special at all. When you get to be my age, you want your birthday to come with as little fanfare (but as much money and gifts) as possible.

So, instead of focusing too much on my not-so-special day, I'll give you a run down on what happened during my not-so-special week.

Let's start with Dim vs. the Squirrels.

As I mentioned previously, I'm in an all-out war with the squirrels in my neighborhood over birdseed. I like to feed my feathered friends, but end up spending an assload of money on food that ultimately ends up in the bellies of these fuzzy-tailed rats. I finally found a baffle to attach to the shepherd's hook where the feeder is and, since then, they have had a devil of a time getting at the seed. That's good, right? Well, not entirely.

Now, they need to search for alternative sources of food. Which reminds me, by the way, don't squirrels squirrel away nuts and acorns and shit like that? Why are they eating birdfood? Jesus, the vermin have a friggin VERB named after them and they are hardly holding up their end of the bargain when it comes to word origins. There is a plethora of acorns in my yard. Eat them.

No, now, they decide they want suet.

So, lately I found my two suet baskets knocked off their hooks and on the ground open empty. Which baffles me, because I am a human being with opposable thumbs and I have a terrible time getting those fucking contraptions open to load in more grub, but apparently, the squirrels in my 'hood spend a lot of time working the Playstation and have superior opposable thumb skills.

I filled the cages again in the hopes that this was a one time deal. Next morning, I awake to find one suet container again, on the ground and empty. That's good news, right? Only one on the ground?

Not exactly.

The other one. Is MISSING. Completely gone. Ripped from its chain and vanished into thin air. Nowhere to be found. Now, I'm starting to worry that the serial killer who left me a headless mouse over the winter is involved.

I figure it is the squirrels again. Or a raccoon. Or a Yeti, or something, but whatever it is, I have the superior brain power and no suet stealer is going to outwit me.

So, I spend a couple of extra clams and buy a sturdier suet container. This one doesn't have chain links that can be pried apart and the latch to open it is really a bitch to work. Perfect.

Next morning, the indestructable new suet feeder is on the ground, open, and empty. I have a coniption.

I go to the local hardware store and I buy an industrial strength grappling hook that I attach to the suet container and then to the shepherd's hook directly. Then, I bought a padlock. Yes, a padlock. With keys and everything. And I put the lock around the door of the suet container, so only a person with a key (or a bobby pin) can get into it. I am the only one who knows where the key is. If the sons of bitches break into it this time, I'll swear they have hidden surveillance cameras in the house.

Now, let's move onto Dim vs. The Mouse.

As you know, we had a mouse in the house, which we caught, but we also had an elusive one in our garage that was wily enough to outwit my ingenious attempts to catch him.

So, I go to the local Lowes to buy a few mouse traps. I pass on the glue ones. I really hate it when I step in gum, so I can only imagine what this might be like for the mouse. Not to mention, my garage isn't exactly the most seal-tight carport in the world (hence, the presence of the mouse in the first place). In fact, during the fall, we actually have to RAKE our garage because of all the leaves that blow in. I didn't want all sorts of tumbleweeds and shit getting stuck on these stupid glue pads.

I wasn't going to buy the traditional traps either because I really didn't want to deal with snapped necks. OK, truthfully, I didn't get them because I was scared of tripping it myself while trying to set it and having it snare my thumb and having that one digit that makes me superior to the squirrels turn a hundred shades of crimson and swell to 50 times its normal size like it does in the cartoons.

So, I went with a humane catch and release trap. Pretty cleverly designed, you put an attractive on the rear door and when the mouse enters the trap, its weight acts like a see saw and the front door closes him in. Easy to set, easy to see if it caught something. I pick this one.

I get it home and read the Ikea-esque instructions on how to set it up. It literally takes me a half hour to figure out. The instructions have 2 steps. Step 1 is take it out of the box. Step 2 shows it all set up with a cartoon mouse with it's ass hanging out of the trap. I'm befuddled.

I finally figure it out and start looking for the mouse pheromones or whatever only to find that the shit is not included. Nice. So now, I am smearing peanut butter on the trap door and cursing whoever made these friggin things.

I set two traps out in the garage.

Next morning, I go out and I'll de dipped, but I caught it. I pick the trap up and start walking out toward the woods. I drop the trap on the lawn by mistake. The trap doesn't open, but the mouse inside experiences a fall comparable to one of us being thrown off the Empire State Building.

I walk pretty far into the woods and open the trap, expecting the mouse to haul ass, stopping to thank me for not making it sticky, or breaking his neck, before scurrying off to never bother me again.

Only nothing comes out.

So, I start shaking the trap trying to get it out.

Finally, I see a tail and the hind legs, so I grab the thing (yes, I was wearing gloves), and help it out. The frigging thing is COVERED in peanut butter and traumatized so much that you would have thought I subjected him to naked pictures of Bea Arthur while he was in there.

I left him and the poor guy wasn't in great shape, but maybe he made it. If he did, I'm sure I'll find him in my garage again pretty soon.

In terms of things on my actual birthday, nothing much happened. I worked from home as I usually do on Thursdays. I cleaned the house because it was due. Xteen came home from work and went to her Tai Chi class, which I think is Chinese for "Expensive hobby where we make round eye do goofy things in srow motion so people think something wrong in the head like Corky in Rife Goes On." And before you get all pissy over this, all I have to say is "Relax...it's just a joke." (Please note: by "relax", I really mean "relax"...not "lelax", which would make sense in horrible stereotype, but, alas, isn't a real word.)

Xteen comes home from Slow Motion Kung Fu, which I guess will work if your attacker moves equally briskly. Xteen attempts to combat my skepticism by asking me to lunge at her. I quarter-heartedly make some sort of aggresive, yet ambivalent, move toward her which she emphatically thwarts with a half-speed karate chop. I bow in concession and tell her to paint the fence, Daniel-san.

Then, we eat leftovers for dinner.

Over the weekend, I did get my birthday dinner at a restaurant of my choosing, which was very good. Only problem is that this feast came immediately upon the heels of six hours of mulching the yard.

Which brings me to Dim vs. the Honest and Forgetful Mulch Guy.

We ordered this mulch a couple of weeks ago. The dude said that if he didn't deliver it by Wednesday, to call and remind him. Wednesday night I come home, no mulch. So Thursday morning, I call him and said he would be here within the hour. Eight seconds after that, he calls back and says something came up and he'll be a little while. 5:00 rolls around...no mulch. I called him back and he said he forgot. But, he'll deliver it on Friday.

Friday, we come home to...you guessed it. No mulch. I call him back and he again admits to forgetting, prefacing it with, "Look, I'm not gonna lie to you and make something up...I forgot." At this point, I almost told him that you might want to contemplate the benefits of a little white lie when honesty only exposes your ineptitude.

But Saturday, we have mulch! And a back ache. I'm getting old.

- Dim.

There's a Mouse in the House

2008-05-06T08:03:00.003-05:00

No, unfortunately, this isn't a post about me writing a Dr. Seuss-esque children's book. Besides, that son of a bitch already stole my idea of a title (There's Wocket in My Pocket (and I'm Happy to See You)) for an adult-themed novel I had. Damn you, Theodor Geisel!

This, rather, is a post about a story about our house. Which I just recently told Jenny G. didn't have any stories and I was more than happy with that. Because stories means pain for Dim and I have to deal with that enough concerning our automobiles. I certainly didn't want to drag our domicile into the vortex of suck. But, alas, I must.

Rewind about a year ago. We had just moved into the house. I came home one day to find a small, recently-deceased mouse on the floor of our garage. Being a good Italian, I did what any good Italian would do. I deduced that this mouse was probably out drinking with some wise guy mice who decided he needed to be whacked (with good reason, no doubt), so they got him good and liquored up before beating the ever-living mousesnot out of him and they dumped him in my garage. Fair enough. I've seen enough movies to know that they needed a "cleaner", so I wrapped the body up in some Saran wrap, threw it in my trunk, drove into the heart of the nearest state park, and buried the bastard somewhere that it will take archeologists to find. Hell, ain't the first hole I ever dug.

I figured that was the last of my mouse problem. But considering we live pretty much out in the boonies and our back yard is mostly woods, you never can tell. My next piece of evidence concerning the presence of a vermin in my garage came last summer when I found bags of birdseed completely shredded and seed strewn all over the place. At first I thought, "I gotta bring these bags back to Home Depot and return them! They spontaneously shredded and spilled everything out! What a rip-off!" Then it dawned on me...vermin.

So, we packed all the birdseed in impenatrable tin canisters which once housed Christmastime peanut brittle which was impenatrable by teeth. Funny how it works out like that.

Fast forward to a couple of months ago. During a thaw, I noticed another mouse body, this time on our deck, right near the sliding door. This mouse body was different not in what it had, but in what it was lacking: a head. Now, I knew this wasn't a mob hit. That level of mutilation usually doesn't happen with wisemice. This was something far more nefarious, especially since we don't have a cat. My first thought, thanks to Court TV, was that a Jeffrey Dahmer-in-the-making dropped it off outside the house while he was casing it. So, I did what any even-keeled person would do: I put yellow tape all around the deck and called the police to report a crime scene.

"There's a headless mouse on my deck."

"Why are you calling us?"

"Uhh. Hello? Headless. Mouse. On my deck."

"Do you have a cat?"

"Of course not."

"There's not much we can do about this."

"Well, fine, but if you get a call down the road and find my head in a freezer and some kid heating up my spleen in a crock pot, I certainly hope you remember this conversation."

I didn't think much about mice again until we bought some suet for the bird feeder and, since it was all wrapped in plastic, I figured it was safe to store in the garage. Sure enough, in a day or two, something chewed through it. Vermin, I deduced. Vermin.

So now I store the suet in the impenatrable Christmastime peanut brittle canister. Take that!

So, the other night, Xteen and I were coming home from somewhere and as I pulled the car into the garage, we saw it. A mouse on the ledge of the garage looking right at us. As we pulled in, the thing hauled ass behind some extra shingles and despite me poking all corners of the garage with a broom in a less-than-masculine manner, the freaking mouse never showed it's head or headless body again. Xteen and I convinced ourselves that it went out the same way it came in.

Last night was a good night. We got a lot of stuff done around the house, cooked a good dinner, and for a change, I didn't feel exhausted afterward. Around 10:00, Xteen says to me, "Mind if I go watch my soap?" Which is fine with me, since I am watching the Sox. But the thing I don't understand is why chicks always refer to the soap opera they watch as THEIR soap. "What's your soap?" "Oooh, look at the time...I have to go watch my soap." What the hell is that all about? You never hear guys say, "I'm going downstairs. My porno is on." I don't get it.

Anyway, Xteen retires to the bedroom to watch the soap she apparently owns and I'm finishing off a glass of wine and noodling on the guitar while watching my Red Sox beat the Tigers. Then, I hear something fall in the kitchen.

I don't think much of it, because we had just washed dishes and arranged them to dry in a Jenga-like construction, things all leaning on each other, so sometimes things settle and noises are heard. No biggie. But after a few minutes, I decide to check it out anyway, just to make sure nothing broke.

I walk into the kitchen and I can't seem to find anything that would have made that noise. I look and look and finally notice that a small, carved bird thingy fell off the kitchen window ledge onto the counter. Odd. I put it back.

And am then face-to-face with what I think is a fake mouse.

I yell to Xteen, "Hey! Did you put a fake mouse in the kitchen??"

"What?!?"

"Come here! Did you put a fake mouse in the kitchen??"

Keep in mind that Xteen works with kids so concept of her having a fake mouse, while still pretty fucking wacky, isn't out of the realm of responsibility.

"No. A fake mouse? No."

"Come here."

She tears herself away from "her soap" and tentatively walks into the kitchen with me.

"There's a mouse on the ledge. The thing is frozen...hasn't moved."

Up close, it also had what looked like those fake ruby eyes that mouse figurines have, which is why I thought it was fake. Well, that, and its complete lack of movement.

Xteen couldn't see the mouse off the bat and wanted to start putting on lights and moving shit around, which I didn't think was a good idea. Once I finally pointed it out, she freaked out a little and then we sat there and stared at it for like 10 minutes like it was a Sukoku puzzle. We had no idea what to do with the friggin thing.

So, finally, our plan consisted of grabbing a humongous collander, a salad spinner, a soup ladle, and two Tupperware containers. I have no idea what the plan outside of collecting this shit was supposed to be.

There we stood, staring down this petrified mouse, equally petrified and arguing over who was going to do what. Xteen didn't want to approach the mouse and attempt to catch it it and was also apprehensive about being the goalie for when I attempted to catch the mouse, failed miserably, and have the thing thing give us the finger and jump off the counter and scurry on the floor. And since I am still weeks away from figuring out how to clone myself for such a situation, we were in a quandry.

A rock, paper, scissors game didn't quite work because we kept bumping up the qualifiers:

"OK, best 3 out of 5"

"Best 4 out of 7"

"Best 12 out of 23"

Finally, I grabbed the small Tupperware container (the little guy was only a couple of inches long and like my boy David Cook on American Idol, almost all head.) I approach the mouse and attempt to catch him in the container. Xteen immediately has sympathy pains: "He's cute! Don't hurt it!" Uhh..

The mouse sees me coming and decides to completely spazz out, rapidly running between the two window casings like a pinball. I try reasoning with him: "Dude, quit being an idiot and get in there!"

Then I come up with a brilliant idea:

"Xteen, get me some cheese."

I've seen enough Tom and Jerry cartoons to know this is a perfect plan.

So, I put a little bit of cheese in the container and the mouse looks at me as if to say, "Seriously, dude, cheese? How stereotypical," before completely spazzing out again.

Xteen descends on him with the large Tupperware container and a slab of swiss that would choke a rhinocerous and, between the two of us, we manage to get him in the bigger container (with the goliath piece of cheese) and get the lid on. At this point, our nerves are a little shot and Xteen comes up with this nugget of brilliance:

"Let him out far away from the house."

"Like Cleveland? Seriously, I was going to let him go in the living room. Good thing you said something."

"Don't hurt him...and leave the cheese with him in case he wants it."

"Wha??"

So, I go out to the end of my driveway where there is this rock wall and I open up the container. The little dude takes off like a wingless bat out of hell across the street and into the neighbor's yard. The ingrate didn't even take the slab of cheese. Granted, it was like 8 times its body weight, but still. My hospitality should be appreciated.

I walk back in the house and that's that. Though now, we are completely freaked out. The thing could have been in the house for 2 weeks or 5 minutes...we have no way of knowing. Though I would think we would have crossed paths with it if it was around for awhile. So, we need to disinfect the entire house I would think and pray we don't see another one.

Otherwise, we'll have to take a trip to the nearest Bed, Bath, and Beyond so I can pick up more mouse catching equipment.

- Dim.

For Jenny G

2008-04-28T08:43:00.002-05:00

Continuing with the theme which I'm dragging out as long as possible, Jenny G has a few questions:

1. Why are you so awesome?

This is an amazing question. I've thought long and hard about this one as it is one I am asked multiple times on a daily basis. It could be a number of factors:

My devastating good looks
My rapier-like wit
My unparalleled sense of humor
How jaw-droppingly amazing I appear when I am "happy in the pants"

But mostly, I think I am so awesome because of my humility.

2. What's it like to work with March?

Here's the funny thing about me and March. Despite knowing him for about 10 years or so, we have never worked in the same group. So, I don't really work with March, not that he does a lot of work to begin with.

Let me tell you the origins of Dim and March. We both worked in the same building years ago, yet we didn't know each other. I knew him as the kid who had towers of CD cases on his desk that he would rifle through and also as the kid who never seemed to have a work-related screen up on his monitor. One of these two characteristics still holds true. Guess which one? I'll give you hint: He has an iPod now.

So, one day, I went to Newbury Comics (a local music store) with some friends and saw March there. I was buying this CD at the store, which March noticed, because it was one of the 7,869 discs he also had at his desk. When I got back to the office, he sent me an e-mail about the disc and about music in general and that was it.

So, despite us having worked in the same buildings a couple of times, we never have truly worked together. And we rarely see each other these days, other than the occasional concert or hockey game, but we correspond daily and he remains a good friend to this day. Awwwww....isn't that nice?

3. We haven't heard much about your new house--any funny stories?

The house hasn't exactly been filled with funny stories yet. Things are going pretty well, but I envision a full-fledged post about battling squirrels to stay out of the bird feeders will be coming soon. Those bastards have some nerve. I heard that they don't like cayenne pepper, so I sprinked some of that in the birdseed in the hopes that they would taste it and leave the seed alone for the birds.

I look out the window and there is a posse of five squirrels all devouring the seed in the feeder. I yell out, "What about the cayenne pepper??" and they look back at me. All of them are wearing sombreros and drinking Coronas. They have absurd moustaches and are rocking out to the Gipsy Kings and yell back, "Screw you, ese!"

This means war.

- Dim.

For B.

2008-04-21T22:39:00.003-05:00

First of all, I'd like to thank you all for the overwhelming responses I have gotten for my plea to help me with content for my blog. It will surely take me months to plod through the four responses! Heh. Anywho....

B. asks:

What would be the plans if you could spend the day with me, Rusty, and Jenny G?

Well, B., this is a very tough question. The first thing I can think of is DEFINITELY some pampering is order: hair done, soothing facial, manicure, pedicure, sensual massage...and that's all for me. You guys can watch if you wanna.

Honestly, my ideal time would be for you guys to drag me along to do what y'all like to do.

Let's assume we're all in the same place.

B., let's hang out and play the feud! Top 5 answers on the board...here's the question: What is the proper ending to this sentence? "Dim is _____?"

"Awesome"

"Survey says??"

Ding ding ding!

"100 points! You didn't give the other family a chance to steal!"

Then, I think we can chow down on frozen french toast sticks, after which, you can help me out with my post-up move. Maybe I'll let you show me how to change a diaper, since that might come in handy, since I am becoming increasing less continent. Oops! Did I say that out loud? Mostly, though, I'll just tell wicked funny stories and spend most of my time being awesome.

Next up, we hang with Jenny G. For fun, Jenny allows me to draw fake moustaches on all the posters of Ace Young and Jason Castro that paper her bedroom. Because we all know they can't grow facial hair on their own.

Then, we have a marathon showing of The Office (UK) before she shuffles me off to the library, where I run around making all kinds of ruckus so she can practice saying "Shhhh!!!" After that, we watch VH1 Classic and have in depth discussions, like "Who used more Aqua Net? Whitesnake or Slaughter?" After that, she takes me to that creepy place in Pennsylvania that's always on fire.

Then, we chill with Rusty. Some birdwatching is definitely in order, methinks. Then, she takes me to a NASCAR race and, feeling bad that I didn't get to meet MY driver, Danica Patrick (yeah, I know, she doesn't race NASCAR), Rusty decides to take me to a bar and talks to me over a beer for about 8 seconds before she leaves me in the dust only to leave said establishment with Elliot Sadler on one arm and Kasey Kahne on the other.
In case I didn't mention, through all of these adventures, I am being wicked funny and awesome and you guys are fawning all over me in a "You're really awesomer in person, Dim" kinda way. But just as friends though. I wouldn't want things to get weird.

After that, we all get together and play cribbage and drink a shitload of Mike's Hard Lemonade, because, damn it, that's how I roll.

- Dim.

For March

2008-04-17T07:15:00.002-05:00

OK, here are the answers to March's questions. Fret not, you others...I'll be answering your questions very soon. Feel free to keep them coming. Or, rather than questions, if you have a specific topic you want me to blog about, send it on in.

1) Your blog links..why link to so many bloggers who no longer update?

I'm wicked lazy and don't feel like cleaning up my main page. Besides, I still wake up every day with the hopes that I will find a new post from Annoyed. To remove him from my links would to give up on my dream. You're not suggesting I give up on my dream, are you??

2) You are able to put together a one day rock fest. Everything is paid for, legally all set etc...who is on the bill. (1 rule..bands must be active today..or have all members alive for a one off gig like Husker Du)

You gave me absolutely no limit, but I will try to keep it reasonable. And in alphabetical order!

- Afghan Whigs (reunited)
- Alison Krauss & Robert Plant (after which, she can go do a set with Union Station if she wants and Plant can do some tunes with that rock band he had back in the late 60s, early 70s...forget their name)
- Anthrax (on the metal stage and ONLY with John Bush singing)
- The Black Crowes (only if Marc Ford would re-join them)
- Bonnie "Prince" Billy
- Concrete Blonde (just to hear Johnette Napolitano...she's so incredible)
- the Cure
- the Dandy Warhols (Even if they just play "Godless" and that's it)
- Dread Zeppelin
- Elvis Presley (he's alive, so shut up)
- Eric Matthews
- Faith No More (reunited, and then Patton can do sets with Fantomas, Tomahawk, a reunited Mr. Bungle, and Peeping Tom just to make me happy)
- Foo Fighters
- Golden Earring (I want to hear "Radar Love" and then "Twilight Zone". Then, I'll boot their asses off the stage)
- Gomez
- Gorillaz (and then Damon Albarn can joing The Good, The Bad, & The Queen for a set)
- Grant Lee Buffalo (reunited)
- The Gutter Twins
- Husker Du (reunited, then, after an 8 round boxing match between Grant Hart and Bob Mould, they go off and Hart plays with Nova Mob and Mould plays with a reunited Sugar)
- Iron Maiden
- Jennifer Trynin (out of semi-retirement)
- John Butler Trio (just because these guys slay live)
- King's X
- Kristin Hersh/Throwing Muses/50 Foot Wave
- Monster Magnet
- Murder By Death
- Neko Case
- Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds
- Phish (reunited, but they need to keep it short. No 45 minute version of "What's the Use?")
- Pink Floyd (all of them)
- PJ Harvey
- Prince
- Queens of the Stone Age
- R.E.M.
- the Raconteurs
- Richard Thompson
- Rush
- Ryan Adams and the Cardinals
- Scorpions (well, maybe just Klaus Meine, who opens the whole day by screaming in a thick German accent, "Dimfest! There is no one like YOOOOUUUUUUU!!!!!")
- Sleater-Kinney (reunited)
- Soundgarden (reunited)
- Stars
- Talking Heads (reunited)
- Tom Jones
- Tool
- Urge Overkill
- the White Stripes
- the Who
- Wilco
- Willie Nelson

Is that too much to ask for? If so, I can narrow it down to just Neko Case for the whole day.

3) Paper or Plastic?

I we are talking shopping bags, definitely plastic. Screw the environment! I broke my back shovelling about 200 inches of global warming this winter, so frig off! If we are talking what's on the roll in the bathroom, that would be paper. I tried plastic in there and it doesn't work quite as well.

4) Would you rather have season tickets for the Red Sox or Bruins?

Red Sox. Hands down. 81 games of drinking and eating hot dogs vs. 41 games of drinking and eating hot dogs? Come on. You do the math.

5) Is bacon the best "side" to go with breakfast?

It's definitely the best meat to go with breakfast. A great order of home fries is also a tremendous side. We have a cool diner near us and my favorite breakfast there is the 3 eggs, any style, bacon, home fries, toast, and french toast. It's called the Defibrillator and comes with a free parking pass to St. Vincent's Hospital. Can't go wrong with that.

Side note, Xteen and I have bacon issues as she loves it too, but loves it burned to a crisp and I like it less well done. This is a big sore spot in our house and probably explains why she eats a lot of oatmeal and I go through a box of Grape Nuts a week.

6) What is your favorite beer at the British Beer Company? Does it go well with Buff Chix Pizza?

I've only been to said establishment uno time-o (which is Spanish for "one time", for all you non-bilinguals out there), but my favorite beer, of which I had quite a few, was the Fullers ESB on draft. Heavenly. And it most certainly went well with buffalo chicken pizza. Then again, Schlitz in the can probably would have went well with that delectible pie. I know, I know, hold the onions, right, Hodge?

Thanks for the questions. Keep them and any other ideas coming!

- Dim.

All Request Hour

2008-04-16T07:43:00.004-05:00

Well, as usual, I'm dry for content for this blog. If anyone has any ideas for a topic I should write about, leave it in the comments field and I promise to stare at it for three minutes and then reply "I can't write about that."

This means you, B., Rusty, JG, March, and Hotwire. You are my readership and I am here to serve you.

Oh, and anyone else reading can chime in too, if you want.

Love, Dim.

Carma

2008-04-01T18:52:00.004-05:00

This post is for B., who has grown understandably inpatient with my infrequent posting and also has a soft spot in her heart for all of my car woes.

Perhaps I should have used a tad more discretion before posting this little ditty in my Church experience. God, being the merciful God that He is, did not send thunderbolts to strike me dead in retribution. But He did the next best thing. He fucked with Xteen's car.

Now, Xteen's job requires her to drive all over creation, so the demise of the Saturn was neither sudden nor unexpected. I just really would have appreciated it if it could have held off shitting the bed before I spent $140 on Iron Maiden tickets. Speaking of Maiden, 666 may be the number of the beast, but I'm pretty sure the letters of the beast are AAA.

OK, so here's the gig. I get a phone call at work about 8 seconds before I am about to leave, which is never good. My immediate relief that it wasn't some wacko from work with an utterly unreasonable request was immediately tempered by Xteen on the other end of the line. She usually doesn't call my work when she thinks I am on the way out, so I knew something was up. Turns out that she was about to leave her last appointment when the Satanmobile wouldn't turn over.

She asked me what I thought was wrong.

Now, you would think with my vast experiences with my own shitbox that I would have a modicum of knowledge as to the maladies suffered my these truly nefarious devices. Personally, I believe I have this knowledge:

"Uhhh...flux capacitor?"

Xteen, not so much:

"No. What should I do?"

"Uhhh...get a jump?"

"I don't think the battery is dead."

I get defensive about her all hatin' on me:

"Well, I certainly can't diagnose the problem over the phone! Who am I? Mr Goodwrench?"

She, thankfully, doesn't say aloud what we are both thinking, which is that I could have my head shoved in an empty gas tank and still not know why the car won't run.

"Maybe you should call the letters of the beast."

"Well, I called our guy."

Our guy is a local mechanic who absolutely LOVES our Mastercard.

"He said that maybe something is wet under the hood, since it is raining and that's causing the problem."

Is the Saturn a fucking Gremlin? You can't get a car wet now? Are you gonna tell me that I can't gas it up after midnight or it will sprout a white mohawk and slice my face to shreds?

Side note: This was the only thing that really bothered me about Gremlins. "Don't feed him after midnight." Well, every time is technically "after midnight", Eric Clapton. I'm typing this at 9:22 pm on a Tuesday. It's after midnight. It's also after 8:30. So basically, the movie has a serious plot flaw which blows the whole thing to shit in my opinion.

Back to the car. Fuck the a/c. Can I get a giant umbrella in my option package so my car doesn't explode when it drizzles out? Is this why all the highways and biways of Seattle are strewn with the carcasses of automobiles? Because they got WET?

I start to doubt "our guy" when Xteen notes that the car has started up and she's going to try to drive it to "our guy" who is probably waiting for us with a blow dryer and a bill for $350.

I leave work and get about 6 steps from my own car when my cell phone rings. I know what awaits me on the other line.

"My car died."

"Where are you?"

"Right where 495 meets the Pike."

For those not from the area, you quite possibly couldn't be broken down in a more pinpointed area of two main roads. It's not like the thing crapped out somewhere between Mile Marker 52 and where the dead wildebeest (the Happy Meal of the Jungle) is being mauled by 837 leopards, which is what wildebeests are born to do. Keep this in mind.

I tell her to get out of the car and stay on the other side of the guardrail and to call the letters of the beast. Dim's a-gonna rescue you.

I arrive expecting to see some sort of police entourage since, uh, it's a disabled vehicle, almost immediately at the end of the offramp of a major friggin road, and it is rainy and foggy and cold out. Not to mention, the letters of the beast told Xteen that all dead cars on said Pike fall under the jurisdiction of the Staties, so now we have a dual layer of incompetence on the job.

I join Xteen as we stand amongst the most vile and wet filth and muck you can possibly imagine which I attribute to Xteen having the unfortunate luck to break down where all of the snow plows gather to vomit after their all-night Penzoil benders.

We wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Xteen calls back and gets the State Police again.

"We were given the wrong location."

Uhh. Pike. 495. Where the twain shall meet, which is only ONE FUCKING PLACE. I suggest to Xteen that she tells the cop that, actually, we killed someone and stuffed their body into the trunk of her car, which incidentally, happens to be broken down, so we would be obliged if they would also send a tow when they break out the paddy wagon.

We wait.

We're now working on 45 minutes in the cold and rain. Xteen is cold. I'm holding her umbrella, which is about as emasculating as watching an all day Ryan's Hope marathon on SOAPnet. I see one of those behemoth rigs that carry like 20 broken down cars at once pass by. I scan it. 10 cars that look like Xteen's and 10 police cruisers. Not a good omen.

Xteen calls the cops again. I'm temped to walk a mile to the nearest rest area in an attempt to lure them to us with crullers. The officer, no doubt sitting in his heated office, in a bathrobe and slippers, watching a Ryan's Hope marathon on SOAPnet says, "Just be patient."

Thanks.

Eventually, Jabba the Tow Truck Driver shows up. He's not svelte. And not very chatty.

Our collective internal temperatures have dipped to Paris Hilton's IQ levels. And Jabba decides he is going to take 20 minutes to pry himself out of the cab of the truck. He walks over to us. Xteen approaches him.

Now, keep in mind we are on a major fucking highway that the state police apparently couldn't locate because the North Star wasn't out yet, but is still loaded with vehicles loudly going well over the speed limit.

If the volume of Xteen's voice were a font size, it would be this. She says something to Jabba that even I can't hear and I am right next to her with an umbrella in one hand and my castrated testicles in the other.

The tow truck driver has an obnoxiously wicked pissah Bahstin accent. And replies, HAH?!

This goes on for awhile as he gets the paperwork he needs, hooks the car up to the thing, blah blah blah.

"Where's this goin'?"

"Dim City"

"HAH?!"

You get the idea. I try to yell to him. "That's my car behind hers. Just follow me there."

To which he replies, "I don't have GPS. Someone's gonna have to ride with me."

Of course you don't have GPS. You're only in the business of travelling on strange roads to find people who are broken down and then towing them on other strange roads to strange towns and strange "other people's guys". Why would you possibly need some useless newfangled technology like a GPS? In fact, why don't you just get around like I do? Send a carrier pigeon to your destination ahead of time and wait for the fucking smoke signals you ask them to send up so you can figure out where you are going. Do you mean to tell me that Mr. Rand and Mr. McNally's work was all in vain?

Then, Sherlock notices my car.

"Who's car is that?"

"Uhh. That's mine. I'm her man-servant (can't you tell? I'm holding the umbrella and valiantly having a bitch-slap fight with the wind to keep it from turning me into Mary Poppins...thankfully, my own Jabba-ness is keeping us firmly anchored down in the filth and muck) and, what are the odds, I just happened upon this scene and my car broke down right behind hers!"

Only I didn't say that. I said, "That's mine. I'm her husband."

"Oh," says Einstein. "I can just follow you there."

"Brilliant! You're in the wrong field. With that kind of brainpower, you are wasting away towing cars. I can easily see you in a much more challenging position, like filling the soda machines at rest stops or letters of the beast dispatcher."

He hooks the car up and tows it to "our guy."

Once there, he starts to take Xteen's car off the bed. The car is at a 45 degree angle from the ground, nose in the air.

"OK, I need you to get in the car, release the emergency break, and put it in neutral."

I figure this is as good a time as any to believe in women's lib.

"Go ahead, honey," I say.

"Nuh-uh."

So I climb in. The driver's seat is reclined all the way, like a massage table, because the driver needed to climb in to do something and his girth could not allow him comfort unless the seat was pushed back into the trunk.

I climb in and am instantaneously scared shitless. I feel like I am about T-minus 6 seconds away from blasting off to dock with the Mir.

I'm able to finagle the car off the bed and into a space in the parking lot of the garage that belongs to "our guy". It takes the Jaws of Life to get me out of the reclined driver's seat.

Our guy called this afternoon. Apparently, toweling it off didn't fix the problem and now we need to drop 500 clams to fix the damn thing just to get it running. A mere few weeks after proclaiming (after another monetary molestation) that the car should last a good long time, he now decrees, "You might want to start looking for a new car. This one is trying to tell you something."

Yeah.

"Bright light!! Bright light!!!"

Feeding it after midnight,

- Dim.

Easter Vigil

2008-03-22T23:35:00.008-05:00

Written Saturday, March 22.

Xteen and I are in New York visiting her folks. We are all technically Catholics, and Xteen's family decidedly more religious than I, so that resulted in us attending a surprisingly bilingual and extraordinarily unbrief Church service tonight. Now, I won't bore you with my own religious beliefs. Let's just say that I found some of the parts of the Mass to be extremely helpful to me in a religious nurturing experience and most of the other parts, I found to be robotic recitations that were really devoid of any emotion or conviction. But apart from me wrestling with my own religious issues on what is truly a glorious holiday, I found time to do a running diary to document the whole thing! Mmmmmm....sacrilicious. Enjoy!

7:25pm - Xteen and I meet her folks at the Church. At the back is a basket of small white candles haphazardly thrown into various and sundry plastic holders. The one I happen to grab appears to have been assembled by Stevie Wonder. The candle won't stand up straight and the holder has some ominous holes in it. This is truly an omen of things to come.

7:30 - The Mass begins. We are informed by the celebrant (in both English and foreboding Spanish) that we will be lighting our collective candles from a larger, more impressive fire, dubbed The Easter Candle. They will then magically turn off the sconces in the Church, allowing the candles to provide the only light. This sounds cool. The down side? The omnipotent Easter Candle is located outside. It's cold out. I understand Jesus died for my sins. For my own sake, I hope he died for my frostbite as well.

7:33 - Like cattle being led to slaughter we wait in a line to exit the Church. I'm holding my Stevie Wonder candle, slightly afraid of what awaits me in the field where the fire is. I've seen enough horror movies to know the next breath may be my last.

7:35 - I'm breathing, but also freezing my ass off and wishing for an Easter Bonfire instead of the now-puny-by-comparison Easter Candle.

7:36 - A strange woman lights my candle. This is not a euphamism for anything dirty, although I really wish it was.

7:38 - We all file back into the Church. I haven't seen this many handheld flames since REO Speedwagon played "Keep On Lovin' You" at the Tweeter Center back in '98.

7:40 - The opening song is being played. There are roughly 47 people playing various instruments and singing to the right of the altar. The first song has more verses than "American Pie". I look at my watch for the first time.

7:48 - "American Pie" ends. The Celebrant again welcomes us in two languages. I'm confused by the Spanish and can't exactly figure out the metaphor of the Chevy at the levee and the levee was dry. I chalk it up to drugs and turn my attention into figuring out if I can get out of this service in time to see the end of the Michigan State-Pittsburgh game.

7:50 - We are instructed to open up our booklets to page 36. At this point, I think it is totally cool that Jesus turned stones to bread at Cana, but I would have much preferred he turn my left man-boob into an arm so I could juggle opening a book and flipping to a specific page with navigating a fucking open flame.

7:55 - We are instructed to extinguish our candles, sit, and open to page 43.

7:55:02 - I can't see shit because the lights AND my Stevie Wonder candle are out. Let there be light indeed! Now, I know what Stevie Wonder feels like. Needless to say, I don't join in with the song, which is being sung in some English/Spanish hybrid, not unlike Gerardo's "Rico Suave". Hey, I eat 'em raw like sushi!

7:58 - A reading from the book of Genesis. Apparently, the Catholic Church can't even stomach the idea of a woman even pantomiming the word of God, so they have two people on the lectern. The woman, who sets everything up: "God said..." and then a guy who jumps in with a baritone of "Let there be crawling things and sea monsters" to which the woman provides an update, "So it was done." This went on for six days. In the story, that is. In reality, it only felt like three days. Look, everyone knows God is a dude. But I don't think the world would spin off its axis if a woman said that God said, "I'm bored. Let's make us some plants and trees and fruits with seeds that have seeds from which the fruit was borne and seeds to eat and plants to plant and trees to climb and rainbows and unicorns and puppy dogs, and Sex and the City, and..." Oh wait. Maybe it was a good idea not to have a chick say the words of God.

8:03 - Second reading. The woman says the phrase "chariots and charioteers" no fewer than 811 times. Apparently God didn't like the Egyptians too much. The reading was a little horrific in terms of its blantant misuse of Supreme power to indiscrimately murder, but it had the word "smote" in it, so it gets a thumbs up from me.

8:08 - A horrifically out of tune Spanish guitar plays a song. I'm really expecting to hear it segue into this, which would rule. Alas, it doesn't. So it doesn't.

8:10 - Another reading and it's not the Gospel. And it's being read entirely in Spanish. Uh...what? Am I in East L.A.? I get excited because I recognize the word "agua". My excitement lasts until...

8:12 - I look at my watch again. Dios mio!

8:14 - Yet another reading. Apparently, the whole Bible is up for grabs tonight. Again, this one is in Spanish. I hear the word "entonces" which makes me think of the driving cat on the old Saturday Night Live episodes. Ay Carumba!

8:17 - The musical accompaniment sings a song where they literally ask every person in Heaven, by name, to pray for us. I mean, I am not 100% sure that W.C. Fields is in Heaven and, if he is, if I really need his prayers in particular, but I guess I should be grateful of all the help I can get. I swear, Lou Bega's "Mambo #5" name-dropped fewer people.

8:20 - The Gospel is read in two languages, so it takes about as long as Methuseleh is old. Kids in the congregation have taken to eating paint in the hopes of ending their misery. No amount of Cadbury Creme Eggs is worth this. I giggle every time I hear them say "Hey Zeus".

8:26 - The homily, or sermon, is said by the priest and this is actually my favorite part. Instead of just reading out of a book, this is where the priest raps freestyle to the congregation. This is exactly like "Hustle and Flow", only it is a white guy and he's talking about God. So, I guess it is pretty much nothing like "Hustle and Flow".

8:31 - They announce they are going to be doing individual Baptisms and Confirmations at this service, because apparently, they have some extra time. That's great. It's only beer o'clock on a Saturday night and the NCAA tournament is in full swing. I have nothing else to do. My Stevie Wonder candle is again lit, this time by a Spanish altar boy who was like 7 years old, but had a mustache that would have made "Crazy Little Thing Called Love"-era Freddie Mercury bunched with jealousy.

8:33 - A man named Frank approaches the altar to get Baptized. Frank is about 33 years old. This is actually a pretty cool thing to behold. They pour water on his head and send him off to disappear behind a secret Batcave door at the back of the altar that the priest triggered by shifting the head on a faux Beethoven bust. My concern for Frank, a stranger whom I have never met, inexplicably reaches Defcon 5. I've seen enough horror movies to know Frank's next breath may be his last.

8:36 - I turn to Xteen, legitimately concerned, and say, "Uh...what did they do with Frank?" Xteen laughs.

8:36:01 - My Stevie Wonder candle leaks fiery hot wax through the hole in the holder, scalding my thumb and forefinger. I look Heavenward and say aloud, "What'd I do? I just want to know what they did with Frank."

8:39 - A confirmation. I dozed off because it was said all in Spanish. I smiled in my sleep because I dreamed they said "Hey Zeus" again.

8:44 - Another confirmation. This one I take note of because it is in English. Also, because the to-be confirmed girl is about 16 and her sponser is a 14 year old boy. The priest asks the sponser if he will be making sure that the girl follows Jesus and the Catholic Church. The boy, stunned, utters, "I was told there would be cookies."

8:48 - Just as everyone is applauding for the new confirmees, David Copperfield, I mean, Frank appears through the secret door! He's wearing a white robe! He might quite possibly be dead and I'm the only one that can see him. Take that, Haley Joel Osment!

8:51 - More blessings for more people. The priest calls someone who is not Frank "Francis". I think he is drunk. I wish I was.

8:53 - More Spanish. I have no idea what is going on. Arsenio kicks it over to the house band that starts a song that Xteen is convinced is called "Where'd Suzy Go?" Now that makes no sense at all whatsoever. If it sounded like "Where'd Frank Go?", she might have been on to something. Turns out the song is called "Resucito", which is Spanish for "What the hell is going on here?" You wanna know how long this song lasts for? Go listen to "Freebird". Then watch "Waterworld". Then play a game of Risk with five other people until one person wins.

9:01 - Communion. This is where we eat the Body of Christ. Not wafer-thin pieces of styrofoam that symbolize the Body of Christ. But the actual Body of Christ. Kinda gross. Makes me think of that movie "Alive" and Haley Joel Osment: "I eat dead people."

9:03 - Whilst in the Communion line, I notice that everyone is passing on the Blood of Christ. Apparently eating flesh is fine and dandy, but folks emphatically draw the line at drinking blood, even if it tastes like Boone's Farm Apple Wine.

9:10 - Communion ends. The priest, after chugging all of the Blood of Christ that no one drank, appears confused. He looks over to the Church band as if to say, "Am I singing lead on this one?" He skips entire parts of the closing prayer. After all this time, THIS is the place to cut corners. He's definitely mailing it in at this point. Probably has some serious cake on Michigan State.

9:13 - The closing song. There will be no encore. And, for that, we are all grateful and give glory to God.

9:15 - The good news: FREEDOM!!!! The bad news: I'm probably going to hell.

- Dim.

An Open Letter to Ticketmaster

2008-02-21T12:31:00.003-05:00

Dear Ticketmaster,

Go fuck yourself.

If I ever see you on the street, I'm going to hit you in the nads with a brick.

And then, when you call for help, I am going to ask you to decipher a bunch of random letters and numbers on a patchwork background before I let you try to get an icepack. This little methodology helps to avoid unfair use of automated calls for help. See? I'm here for the little people.

Once you finally translate my incoherent code, I'm going to make you ask for help for your swollen and painful yambags again.

And even though you want help, any help at all (you're not picky after all, because I have stomped your balls into oblivion), I'm going to tell you that I was unable to find any help at all that satisfied your request. Even though I just conducted my majestic and pulverizing assault on your lemons mere nanoseconds prior and there seems to be a lot of help available...just none for you.

Sounds absurd, doesn't it? Inconceivable even?

Of course it does.

But wait. It gets better.

Not only will I tell you that I regrettably cannot fulfill your request for help (I apologize for the inconvenience, by the way), but if you ask for help too many times, I punch you in the chops and tell you that you can't ask for help again for several minutes. How many is "several"? Well, dear Ticketmaster, that's for me to know and you to find out.

Want to know what the kicker is (besides the one I levied quickly and authoritatively to your manjunk)?

I've given help to tons of other people who don't even need help. But, I'm sure, they are willing to sell you the help you need for a price FAR above the going rate for testical restoration.

Sound fair?

So, if I see you walking down the street, Ticketmaster, prepare to cry like a eunuch and to have an eternal feeling "down there" like when you were thirteen and watched Skinemax After Dark's "Emmanuelle" marathon for so long you thought you were going to explode.

And consider us even.

For today.

But in the meantime, feel free to eat a bowl of dicks.

Love, Dim.

The Top 25 of 2007, Part 5 (5-1)

2008-01-28T12:29:00.000-05:00

5. SKY BLUE SKY-Wilco (Nonesuch)

Considering this current incarnation of Wilco is the best in its history, it's unsurprising that this, the Chicago band's sixth release, finds itself among the best of the year. Leader Jeff Tweedy gets in touch with his inner 70s with just a great straight-out rock record that is completely accentuated with texture and layers. The string-tinged "Either Way" gets things kicked off and sets a great tone, with Tweedy providing his usual steady vocals and rhythm, while the very underrated Nels Cline noodles away. The strength of the dozen tracks here is that the cohesiveness of the band is showcased more than ever. Many previous Wilco releases, as brilliant as they are, seemed rest mainly on the talent of Tweedy. But Sky Blue Sky allows you to really hear the contributions of everyone from Cline, to multi-instrumentalists Pat Sansone and Mikael Jorgensen, to astounding drummer Glenn Kotche. "You Are My Face" has an awesome groove, as does "Hate It Here" and the stomp of "Shake It Off" is a fun change of pace. You can always expect something different from these guys, but the results never cease to amaze.

Official site

Listen.

Buy Blue Buy.

Previous list appearances: SUMMERTEETH (Honorable mention in 1999), YANKEE HOTEL FOXTROT (#6 in 2002), A GHOST IS BORN (#1 in 2004)

4. IN OUR BEDROOM AFTER THE WAR-Stars (Arts & Crafts)

Stunningly gorgeous. Upbeat and meloncholy. Read my full review here.

Official site

Give your ears a treat.

Buy Stars.

3. NEW MOON-Elliott Smith (Kill Rock Stars)

This double-disc collection of unreleased and alternate version tracks by Elliott Smith is both inspiring and deflating. The second posthumous release since his terrible and untimely death, New Moon is bare-bones in its production and sound, but does a wonderful job at proving what an outstanding songwriter and guitar player Smith was. Virtually every song here is delicately sung and played acoustically, from "Angel in the Snow" to "Going Nowhere" and everything in between. Some of the unreleased songs, like "Riot Coming", "Almost Over", and "New Disaster" are among Smith's all-time best work. Also interesting to hear are an early version of the chill-inducing beauty of "Miss Misery" from Good Will Hunting and an alternate version of the fragile "Pretty Mary K" from Figure 8. A lot of these types of collections are for hardcore fans and completists only. Not such with New Moon. The quality of these songs are so high, that those interested in this sorely missed artist would feel right at home starting their Elliott Smith experience here.

Official site

Hear it now.

Buy it.

Previous list appearances: FIGURE 8 (#2 in 2000), FROM A BASEMENT ON THE HILL (#3 in 2004)

2. RAISING SAND-Robert Plant & Alison Krauss (Rounder)

I am thoroughly amazed at how often I find myself going back to this disc. Read my full review here.

Official site

Listen here.

Trust me...you need this.

1. ICKY THUMP-the White Stripes (Warner Bros)

Well, they finally did it. Year upon year of making great records has led to their first foray to the top of this list. And there are many reasons for this. No longer a low-fi, blues-only duo, Jack and Meg White have broadened their sound and made it even more refined. The result is powerful (the title track, which might not only be the song of the year, but the song of many years), poignant ("A Martyr For My Love For You") and fun ("Effect & Cause"). Jack's arrangements here are more complex than before, using effects and non-guitar instruments to their full potential, and the unfairly maligned drumming of Meg fits what he is trying to do perfectly. There's a bit of a country rock tinge to "You Don't Know What Love Is (You Just Do As You're Told)", one of the many excellent lyrical exercises by Jack here), and the befuddlingly awesome mariachi Patti Page cover "Conquest" shows the broad landscape here. But expanding musical styles does not mean at all that Jack is focusing less on guitar. In fact, his playing is more raucous than ever. The acoustic funk of "300 M.P.H. Torrential Outpour Blues", accented with chaotic guitar leads is outstanding as is the barroom stomp of "Bone Broke", the blues fury of "Rag & Bone", and the infectious "I'm Slowly Turning Into You". And among all this strength is a jangly, folky tune called "Prickly Thorn, But Sweetly Worn" that is among the best in the band's career. Icky Thump is a stunning achivement and one that showcases a two-person band at the top of their game. Jack White is one of music's most consistently brilliant writers and performers and it's about time that Meg gets her due for being the percussionist that completes the sound perfectly.

Official site

Listen!

Get it!

Previous list appearances: ELEPHANT (#4 in 2003), GET BEHIND ME SATAN (#2 IN 2005)

The Top 25 of 2007, Part 4 (10-6)

2008-01-22T09:43:00.000-05:00

10. ERA VULGARIS-Queens of the Stone Age (Interscope)

While not quite paying off as immediately and decisively as other QOTSA efforts, Era Vulgaris is a labor of love that you will ultimately warm up to if you have some patience. Mastermind Josh Homme is still churning out fuzzy guitar riffs and cool vocal lines with reckless abandon and while the songs are a little less sophisticated than some of the band's prior work, they still show the band as being one with few equals in sound and performance. "Into the Hollow" has a fantastic groove, exhibiting Homme's surprisingly strong vocals and the more simplistic songs, like "Sick Sick Sick" and "Battery Acid" pummel with brawn, rather than brains. The production seems a little bit off, perhaps purposely, and tunes like the cool "3's and 7's" and the dreamy "Suture Up Your Future" may have benefitted from something a little cleaner, but Era Vulgaris ultimately is a very good Queens release. The string of #1 albums is broken, but this one is still worthy of praise.

Official site

Hear it

Buy it

(Previous list appearances: RATED R (#1 in 2000), SONGS FOR THE DEAF (#1 in 2002), LULLABIES TO PARALYZE (#1 in 2005)

9. EASY TIGER-Ryan Adams (Lost Highway)

Easy Tiger is further proof of the prolific Adams fully embracing his alt-country roots. With his incredible backing band, the Cardinals, Adams forges thirteen tracks that are all crisp, mature, and complex. "Goodnight Rose" is wonderfully constructed and the radio-friendly acoustic shuffle of "Two" is insanely catchy. The goofy bombast of "Halloweenhead" is completely forgivable because it's so damn well-done and the more delicate tunes, like "Everybody Knows", the piano-driven "The Sun Also Sets", and "Rip Off" cement Adams as one of the more amazing songwriters in music today. There might be times where you want something like a rocking Gold track or one of the more uptempo numbers from Cold Roses, but Easy Tiger manages to satisfy in virtually every way despite this because of just how brilliant Adams and the Cardinals meld together, the latter fully orchestrating Adams' challenging musical vision.

Official site

Easy listening

Easy money

Previous list appearances: 29 (#14 in 2005), JACKSONVILLE CITY NIGHTS (#11 in 2005), COLD ROSES (#6 in 2005)

8. THE HAIR, THE T.V., THE BABY, AND THE BAND-Imperial Teen (Merge)

A shockingly consistent and fun pop record. Check out my full review here.

Official site

Now hear this!

Purchase

7. ASH WEDNESDAY-Elvis Perkins (Xl Recordings)

I'm telling you this right now. If you like Neutral Milk Hotel, you will love this disc. If you don't like being spoonfed generic, formulaic crap, you will love this disc. If you appreciate musical talent and tremendous songwriting, you will love this disc. If you enjoy being a bit challenged by what you hear from time to time, you will love this disc. Perkins tells some amazing stories here: the wonderful acoustic nature of "While You Were Sleeping" is spellbinding and his use of strings propel "Moon Woman II" and "Emile's Vietnam in the Sky" and the glorious title track. Perkins' vocal style might take some getting used to, but once you accept it, you open yourself up for complete enjoyment. Few discs are this refreshing and emotional, true and powerful. Some tunes are fabulously simple and others more substantive, but the end result is one of the more impressive offerings from a songwriting standpoint in quite some time.

Official site

Hear here.

Buy here

6. LEARN TO SING LIKE A STAR-Kristin Hersh (Yep Roc)

Kristin Hersh's latest effort may be the most well-balanced release of her career. Known for her quirky lyrics and recognizable vocals, Learn to Sing Like a Star should make people notice her for something they should have been paying attention to all along: her sharp songwriting and excellent arranging. What makes this disc so striking is the perfect mesh of acoustic guitar, rocking elements, and strings, provided by the McCarricks. "In Shock" is nearly perfect in showcasing these strengths. But pretty much all of the songs here are flawless: the string-infused "Nerve Endings" is beautiful and the haunting simplicity of "Vertigo" are standout tracks. But the rockers here are every bit as potent as the down-tempo numbers. "Day Glo" is glorious in its melody and "Sugarbaby" a textbook example of what a great, edgy, and unconventional pop song should sound like. The only slight missteps are the brief musical interludes sprinkled throughout. They're not bad at all, but if including them meant leaving off another song as fantastic as "Winter", then I would be disappointed. With this disc, Hersh continues to solify herself as an amazing songwriter and criminally underrated artist.

Official site

Learn to listen like a star

Learn to spend money like a star

Previous list appearances: STRANGE ANGELS (#8 in 1998), SKY MOTEL (#3 in 1999), SUNNY BORDER BLUE (#1 in 2001), THE GROTTO (#15 in 2003)

The Top 25 of 2007, Part 3 (15-11)

2008-01-14T15:30:00.000-05:00

15. WE WERE DEAD BEFORE THE SHIP EVEN SANK-Modest Mouse (Sony)

This band certainly is quirky and hard to pin down. But about 20 seconds into the disc's opener, "March Into The Sea", you are greeted with everything that is great about Modest Mouse: complex music, interesting (if enigmatic) lyrics, and vocals that sound like they were spouted by Charles Bukowski on a Heffenreffer bender. Isaac Brock's stylings might take a little getting used to, but the songs here are so dynamic and interesting, you definitely get past any vocal oddities in a hurry. The controlled chaos that is "Florida" is a great Modest Mouse primer (with a overtly poppy chorus, no less!) and the catchiness of "Missed The Boat" really encapsulates when everything lines up in perfect synergy for the band. "Education" is a typical MM stomp and the epic "Spitting Venom" benefits from the band's gift of discord as well as Johnny Marr's guitar work. As difficult as Modest Mouse is to categorize fully, mostly due to Brock's unique vocal work, We Were Dead...is definitely a fine slice of edgy pop, worthy of appreciation by long-time fans and new discoverers alike.

Official site

Have yourself a listen.

Spend some dough.

Previous Modest Mouse list appearances: GOOD NEWS FOR PEOPLE WHO LOVE BAD NEWS (#18 in 2004)

14. SWEET WARRIOR-Richard Thompson (Shout Factory)

Richard Thompson's latest is yet another outstandingly solid offering that demonstrates his excellent songwriting ability along with his truly underrated guitar god chops. "Needle And Thread" carries a fantastic melody with Thompson's typical, jaw-dropping fretwork. Nicely focusing on the folk pop that works so well for him, the war-tinged shuffle of "Dad's Gonna Kill Me" is a lyrical opus and the multi-layered "Johnny's Far Away" are different in many ways, but equal in strength. His ballads also hit the mark consistently like few others. "Take Care Of The Road You Chose" is earnestly brilliant and "She Sang Angels To Rest" is just so achingly beautiful, you marvel that someone has the talent to write something like this and can also compose the raucous, horn-driven "Bad Monkey" and have both be amazing in their own way. On Sweet Warrior, the criminally underrated Thompson expertly balances the rockers with the down-tempo numbers to create a release every bit as impressive as his outstanding 2003 The Old Kit Bag release.

Previous RT list appearances: THE OLD KIT BAG (#5 in 2003), FRONT PARLOUR BALLADS (#16 in 2005)

Official site

Buy it now

13. YOU AND OTHERS-Vega4 (Sony)

Expertly executed Snow Patrolish Brit pop. Read my complete review here.

Official site

Mmmm...Brit pop...

Drop a pence, will ya?

12. CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR-Jonatha Brooke (Bad Dog)

Somewhere along the way, Jonatha Brooke decided to expand on her folk style and incorporate more and more pop aspects into her songwriting. The idea of a folkie going pop might make some people shudder, but the result is a rocking, accessible offering that makes you wonder why more people aren't hearing this disc. Brooke's vocals are completely solid here, perfect for the style and nary a note out of place. The big, overproduced sound of the title track is actually a fantastic opener and sets a high expectation that Brooke delivers upon. She is an excellent songwriter and the more mainstream sounding tunes ("Keep The River On Your Right", the acoustic-driven "I'll Leave The Light On", and the excellent "Hearsay") demonstrate Brooke's great ability to write on relationships on practically every song without having it sound redundant. The brightest gem out of all of these songs, however, is the chill-inducing "Prodigal Daughter", about as perfect a haunting track as you can wish for. Brooke's gift of melody is well-represented here, as well as the rest of the disc. A very solid and impressive effort, one very much worthy of your listen.

Official site

Ears are for listenin'

Some pennies in the hat

11. CHALLENGERS-The New Pornographers

Once again, Carl Newman continues to prove to the musical world that he is the master of the pop song. With his usual outstanding backing band, Newman forges a dozen prototypes of what power pop should be about. The opening track, "My Rights Verses Yours" is excellent, showcasing impressive group vocals and catchy melodies. The funky riff of "All The Old Showstoppers" drives the tune as one of the best on the disc, with all its musical complexity and the gorgeous title track, sung absolutely perfectly by the divine Neko Case, might be one of the band's best. And while I never quite dug the Dan Bejar-sung tunes nearly as much ("Myriad Harbour"), all the others more than make up for it: "All The Things That Go To Make Heaven And Earth" rocks most excellently, the trippy electronica of "Failsafe", and the Beatles "Dig A Pony"-ish guitar riff of "Go Places" all showcase Challengers as a disc, more uh, challenging, than Twin Cinema or Electric Version, but no less of a masterpiece in pop songwriting and execution.

Official site (Yes, it's SFW)

The sound of Porn(ographers)

Buy some Porn(ographers)

The Top 25 of 2007, Part 2 (20-16)

2008-01-10T12:19:00.000-05:00

20. WEARY & WIRED-Marc Ford (Blues Bureau Int'l )

Sometimes I am just really in the mood for a blues rock record and thankfully, Marc Ford obliged this year. Ford, former guitarist of the Black Crowes, is one of my personal favorites and this solo effort really showcases his raucous blues chops amidst 15 inspired tracks. Sure, the vocals aren't particularly noteworthy and the lyrics are what you expect from a blues rock record, but Ford's playing is so top-notch it drives Weary & Wired to transcend being just a solo disc from a guitar player who was once in a great band. "Featherweight Dreams" is a great, upbeat opener and the campy claps in "Dirty Girl" make it even more catchy than it was destined to be. The epic "Smoke Signals" is Ford's tour de force and even the somber "Currents" has Ford at the top of his guitar game. A surprising and satisfying release and a cure for those needing a blues rock fix.

Official site

Now hear this!

Get the blues for under 10 bucks!

19. IN RAINBOWS-Radiohead (Ato Records / Red)

Truth be told, Radiohead lost me a little after OK Computer and then lost me completely after Kid A. So, when I heard that they were putting out a record that didn't exactly sound like the band farting into a Moog synthesizer, I was on board. And I was pleasantly surprised. I still don't think anything here approaches the absolute perfection of The Bends and OK Computer, but there are some good rock tunes here. "Bodysnatchers" is delightfully fuzzed out behind Thom Yorke's borderline indecipherable lyrics and the acoustic beauty of "Faust Arp" recalls the time when these guys wrote great songs. The rest of the disc does flirt with the really obscure and inaccessible sounding stuff of later discs without immersing you in it. The result is a new Radiohead that fans of the distant and not-so-distant past can both fully appreciate.

Official site

Headspace

Get some 'head (and take your mind out of the gutter)

Previous Radiohead list appearances: OK COMPUTER (#1 in 1997), KID A (#14 in 2000)

18. SNAKES & ARROWS-Rush (Atlantic)

A smart return to the past in sound yields one of Rush's most impressive discs in a long time. The musicianship here is what you would expect: each their own virtuoso. Neil Peart's drumming is Herculean, of course, and Geddy Lee's bass playing is as dextrous as ever. But coming out of this disc is the rebirth of Alex Lifeson as a guitar god. His solo acoustic piece, "Hope", is chill-inducing and his work on the disc's instrumentals, most notably "The Main Monkey Business" further cements him as the trios most underrated member. "Far Cry" might be the band's best single in over 20 years and the complexity of "Workin' Them Angels" really draws upon Rush's strengths of both lyrical and musical power. Now, if we can just get Geddy to quit triple-tracking his vocals...!

Official site

I need that Rush!

Previous Rush list appearances: VAPOR TRAILS (#9 in 2002)

17. WHITE CHALK-PJ Harvey (Island)

Spooky. Ethereal. Challenging. Read my full review here.

PJ's official site

Listen

Get it!

Previous PJ list appearances: IS THIS DESIRE? (#9 in 1998), STORIES FROM THE CITY, STORIES FROM THE SEA (#4 in 2000)

16. YOU CAN'T WIN-Dolorean (Yep Roc)

The beauty (and I mean that literally) of this disc is its simplicity. Al James doesn't have a great voice. In fact, it is quite limited. The music is simple. But James gets what KT Tunstall gets: the concept of "the song". Folky, but not overtly so, the disc is peppered with mandolins, piano, and strings, but it is really James' narratives that propel the songs. "Heather, Remind Me How This Ends" is blissfully sad and the lyrically clever "In Love With The Doubt" and "What One Bottle Can Do" are high points of the disc and showcase James' writing style. On top of it all. the opening title track's hypnotic repetition is so brilliant, you wish everything so simple sounded this good.

Check it out.

Actually, you can't lose if you pick this one up.

The Top 25 of 2007, Part 1 (25-21)

2008-01-07T16:44:00.000-05:00

Here's the annual "best of" list. In chunks of 5 to not bore too much. Take a chance on some of these records if they sound interesting. After all, they were the tops of the year.

25. 4-WAY DIABLO-Monster Magnet (Steamhammer/Spv)

If you happen to love absurd, bombastic, tongue-in-cheek, loud, stripper psychedelic stoner metal (and who doesn't?) then this is the perfect, long-awaited and long-needed Monster Magnet fix to cure your jones. Leader, vocalist, and guitarist Dave Wyndorf returns from a near-fatal drug overdose to forge (appropriately) thirteen songs that just drip with a dirty, heavy sexiness. Wyndorf's voice, one of the best of the genre, is at the top of its game and his chunky and oppressive guitar riffs still rock harder than most out there. While not quite up to par with Monster Magnet's more brilliant offerings, there are more than enough cool tunes here (the plodding "Cyclone", the spooky ballad "I'm Calling You", and the shuffling sleaze of "Slap In The Face") to make you say, "Thank the bullgod! Monster Magnet is back!"

Monster Magnet's official site

What the hell does absurd, bombastic, tongue-in-cheek, loud, stripper psychedelic stoner metal sound like?!

I gots to get me some Mag!

Previous Monster Magnet list appearances: POWERTRIP (#4 in 1998), GOD SAYS NO (#10 in 2001), MONOLITHIC BABY! (#15 IN 2004)

24. CHILDREN RUNNING THROUGH-Patty Griffin (ATO Records)

Griffin's records are just so effortlessly flawless sometimes it's hard to evaluate them. She has such a powerful and emotive voice and hits pretty much every tune out of the ballpark. Children Running Through is no different, and while she doesn't quite rock as hard as she can, she has found the nice balance between the uptempo tunes (like the sassy "Stay On The Ride") and the more contemplative numbers (the jazzy, moody opener "You'll Remember", the country ballad "Trapeze"). The second half of the disc is a little slower, but still contains that undeniably elegant Patty Griffin vocal presence. Delicately teetering on the acoustic folk line, Griffin's latest is definitely a triumph in both style and execution.

Patty's official site

Patty's Myspace

Sounds awesome, Dim! Where can I buy it and not pay shipping?

Right here.

Previous Patty Griffin list appearances: FLAMING RED (#3 in 1998), 1000 KISSES (#11 in 2002), IMPOSSIBLE DREAM (#19 in 2004)

23. NEW SEASONS-The Sadies (Yep Roc)

Toronto's favorite sons (well, second favorite behind Rush, of course), the Sadies' return to disc marks the virtually uncategorizable country twang garage rock that makes them such a stellar live act. Brothers Dallas and Travis Good drive this four-piece who seem hell-bent on playing whatever kind of music they damn-well please. The enigmatically titled "The First Inquisition (Part 4)" is an infectious, low-fi stomp and "What's Left Behind" perfectly showcases the band's uncanny penchant for gorgeous vocal harmonies and truly absurd musicianship. Gone are the breakneck instrumentals, but New Seasons finds the Sadies in a rarefied air of outstanding songwriting and impressive performance. The disc is simply gorgeous and lavish in sound, with an underlying meloncholy that makes its appeal all the more impressive.

The Sadies' official site

Listen at Myspace

Dim, that cover's purty. Me likey.

22. STRANGELET-Grant-Lee Phillips (Rounder)

Grant-Lee Phillips' last two offerings were regrettably underwhelming, which pains me to admit considering the high esteem in which I hold him as a songwriter and performer. Strangelet thankfully finds Grabt-Lee back in the saddle with an offering that is as strong as any of his solos discs and, at times, harkens back to his fabulous work in Grant Lee Buffalo. Phillips' strength here is his ability to craft a mesmirizing melody all framed by his breathy and soothing voice. The upbeat opening of "Runaway" immediately demonstrates the difference between this disc and the previous, slower offerings. And even when Phillips brings the pace down, like with "Fountain Of Youth" and "Same Blue Devils", he still commands your attention. The musical layers here also augment the songs well. The strings behind "Killing a Dead Man" are a nice touch and the electricity of "Johnny Guitar" brings out some of the fun that permeates Phillips' live performances.

GLP's site

Check out some tuneage.

And then buy some, you fruitcake!

Previous Grant-Lee list appearances: MOBILIZE (#6 in 2001)

21. DRASTIC FANTASTIC-KT Tunstall (Virgin US)

Here's the thing about KT Tunstall: She gets "it". She's not the best guitar player. Her voice is good. Damn good, actually, but neither drastic nor fantastic. Her songs are pretty simple, uncomplicated. But she gets "it". And that "it" is how to write a fabulous song. And not just one. But a whole slew of them. And that's why she rocks (killer dimples help too). There's some attitude here along with some catchy choruses ("Little Favours", the cool vibe of "Hold On"). But all of those qualities, fine on their own, don't mean too much unless they all come together in perfect synergy. Luckily for us, they do and on all of the 11 tracks here. This is the "it" that Tunstall thankfully gets. "Hopeless" gives off a nice acoustic shuffle which the bratty "I Don't Want You Now" expertly offsets. And at the end of the disc you realize that this is what pop music should be all about: the concept that Tunstall consistently nails. The concept of "the song".

KT's website

Have a listen.

KT is A-OK. Want CD ASAP!

Previous KT list appearances: EYE TO THE TELESCOPE (#15 IN 2006)

Save Journeyman

2007-12-19T08:23:00.000-05:00

Rarely have I ever been moved by a television program enough to stomp my feet and complain about the network being complete imbeciles. Oh sure, I went through a brief period of depression when they cancelled the live action version of the Tick, but that may have been more to do with my desire to continue seeing the glorious Liz Vassey in her Captain Liberty costume.

But NBC has a well-written, well-acted, and riveting show in its greasy little palms and it is not ordering a full season of it. That show is Journeyman.

I won't give too much away, but the gist of this whole thing is that this newspaper reporter suddenly finds himself with the ability to travel back in time against his will. He has an unsteady family situation and his relationship with his cop brother is strained for a pretty significant reason.

The purpose of his time travel seems to be to help out a different person each time and alter the course of their history.

The show is a mindscrew of the best kind. The acting is top-notch and each plot commands your attention.

The idea of NBC cancelling this show is very disheartening to us. We DVR it every week and love watching it. If NBC does go through with cancelling this show, it will greatly affect my desire to watch any new show that comes out. I'd hate to find myself as attached to a show such as this only to have the network nix it before it has a chance to progress and grow.

Please do yourself a favor and check out some episodes here. You can scroll back to the pilot episode and start there. Pretty sure you will agree that this excellent show deserves to be seen.

Thanks also to the folks at savejourneyman.net for their grassroots effort to keep this show on the air.

Again, I'm not some wacko who went on a hunger strike when Fox axed Herman's Head. But I believe in Journeyman and hope, at the very least, that if NBC doesn't wake the fuck up and realize they have a unique, intelligent show in their arsenal, that a smarter, edgier network like SciFi or USA picks Journeyman up.

Check out some episodes on-line and let me know what you think.

- Dim.

The Nine Best Shows of 2007

2007-12-18T13:23:00.000-05:00

As the year draws to a close, it means one of two things...dumb New Year's Eve parties and my year-end list of great music that you all should listen to.

Starting things off this year are the Top 9 Shows of 2007. You may be saying to yourself, "Dim, nine is a strange number. Most people do a top 10 list. Why not you?"

Well, gentle reader, I am not most people. I like to exert my individuality my defying norms, doing the unexpected, throwing a curveball like a "Top 9 List" out there just to see who's with me in this crazy world, you know? Well, that, and I didn't see 10 shows this year.

Sooo...here we go:

9. Rush at the Tweeter Center, Mansfield, MA 06/27/07

A revamped setlist which thankfully included Alex Lifeson's new guitar solo piece, "Hope", made this a great show. Why's it #9? Because it was, with no exaggeration, four fucking thousand degrees out that day. Outdoor show, no breeze, and yours truly wearing a black t-shirt and dark jeans. "My own fault" you say? Go frig. No mulleted jackass with a knockoff, misprinted RUSK shirt be bought in the parking lot for 10 bucks is going to get to look at my lucious gams.

8. Kristin Hersh with Dolorean at the Regent Theatre, Arlington, MA 04/21/07

Great venue. Show was pretty good too. Not my favorite Kristin show of all time, but I did like the fact that it introduced me to a great little band, Dolorean, who opened up.

7. The New Pornographers at the Roxy, Boston, MA 10/23/07

Probably would have placed higher if not for this.

6. Kristin Hersh with the McCarricks at the Hi-N-Dry Studio, Cambridge, MA 05/27/07

Cool concert given by Kristin Hersh and her 50 Foot Wave bandmates at the Hi-N-Dry studios in Cambridge, MA. For those unfamiliar, Hi-N-Dri is where the late Morphine frontman Mark Sandman lived. It's been turned into a musical loft, stacked with instruments, vinyl, and memorabilia. The show itself was incredible, but so was the atmosphere. No more than 50 tickets or so were made available, so it was very intimate. Got to chat at length with Dana Colley and Billy Conway (both of Morphine, now with Twinemen), Bernard Georges (bass player for Throwing Muses and the Wave) and also enjoy a tremendous show. Here's a pic of Sandman's signature 2-string bass:

5. The White Stripes at Agganis Arena, Boston, MA 07/23/07

Jack and Meg just warp sped through a blistering set thankfully featuring many songs from their excellent '07 release Icky Thump. Truly a sonic wonder to behold.

4. Ryan Adams and the Cardinals at the Calvin Theatre, Northampton, MA 09/17/07

The hit or miss kid crushed one out of the ballpark on this night. Again, best live band Adams has had around him in a long time (though I did miss the beauty of Catherine Popper on bass this time around). Only drag was waiting around forever after the show to say hi only to have him blow right by us. Yeah, I'm a fanboy. A 36 year-old formerly handlebar mustacioed fanboy.

3. Peeping Tom with Pigeon John and Miho Hatori at the Paradise, Boston, MA, 04/10/07

Patton is God. And this band live just completely slayed the studio version of the disc. And for a special treat, do yourself a favor and check out Butterscotch's solo from this show. It's mindblowing.

2. Wilco with Low at the Pines Theatre, Florence, MA 06/24/07

What more can be said about Tweedy and the boys? Not only is this the best live incarnation of the band BY FAR, but it just might be the best touring band out there altogether. No matter how long their show, you leave wishing they played for 2 hours more.

1. Grant-Lee Phillips with Kim Taylor at the Paradise, Boston, MA 05/08/07

Here's a pic of me and Grant. Check out my completely absurd handlebar mustache. Yeah, baby. This was my third time chatting it up with Grant and the dude is cool as a cuke. Very down to earth, generous with his time, and grateful for the support. This show, with a backing band, was outstanding. Breathtaking and I probably couldn't have hand-picked a better setlist. Bought Kim's disc there too; she was great.

Coming soon...the top releases of 2007.

Merry Christmas, y'all.

- Dim.

Strike Three

2007-12-13T11:18:00.000-05:00

Still walking the picket lines.

If it is snowing or going to snow where you are, read this.

- Dim.

Still On Strike

2007-11-27T08:15:00.000-05:00

The Good News: Someone from "Desperate Housewives" brought me pizza while I was out on the picket line.

The Bad News: It was Kyle McLachlan.

Last time I order Dominos when I am on strike. I heard Eva Longoria delivered Subway. I'm going with the turkey club tomorrow.

Anyway, repeats of Christmas specials are gracing the airwaves as we speak. And it's not even December yet! Well, that means repeats of posts commenting on the repeats of Christmas specials will be running in this space right now.

So, enjoy my report card on some of the Christmas specials out there. And also some reconsideration paid to The Grinch.

Enjoy!

- Dim.

Reruns

2007-11-20T08:21:00.000-05:00

Hate to break the news to you, but it's not just the "Men In Trees" writers that are on strike forcing you to sit through buzzkilling reruns. Being a writer for this very blog, I, too, am on strike until I pay me more. So, that means I will be rebroadcasting some Dim City repeats in this space leading up to the holidays.

The first one is a post I wrote called Good Grief. The reason why I wrote this initially was because of a Peanuts special that I saw on TV called "He's a Bully, Charlie Brown". And, scanning through the ol' TV Guide, I see that very special is on again tonight.

So, here is my rerun of that post. For any new residents of Dim City, this is a good opportunity to become acquainted with some old, yet uproariously funny posts. For you seasoned veterans, drink a fuckload of some grain alcohol before you re-read and it will be like experiencing it for the first time!

And don't forget to stop by my Turkey Day post while you are at it.

Have yourselves a great Thanksgiving and remember the spirit of the holiday. Meaning, the Puritans would have absolutely no problem with you standing in front of a TV ogling the Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders with a giant turkey leg hanging out of your mouth. After all, that is what Thanksgiving is all about.

- Dim.

CD Review

2007-11-16T08:21:00.001-05:00

It's been awhile since I have done one of these and since I don't have much to write about these days, I thought I would include it here. This review, along with others that I write, appear on this site from time to time. March also writes for them (though under his real name). Me? I'm always Dim.

Anyway, here is the review:

Raising Sand – Robert Plant & Alison Krauss

Robert Plant.

Alison Krauss.

On the surface and at first glance, not exactly a duo that would rival chocolate and peanut butter for best twosome on the face of the planet. Talent-wise and in their own bands doing their own thing, both are off-the-charts. But reservations of how they would blend together were rampant in my mind. As were the nightmares. Visions of the Led Zeppelin howler in a slinky black, knee-length dress, plucking a fiddle and breathily cooing “Baby, Now that I’ve Found You” were jarring, but not nearly as existentially unsettling as imagining the bluegrass songstress in jeans two sizes too tight to accentuate a tin foil-wrapped cucumber stuffed down the front bellowing “Squeeze me, baby. ‘Til the juice runs down my leg.” I really need to stop eating Chinese food before bed.

However, all of fears were quickly allayed. The surprising musical marriage of these two legends of their own genres is Raising Sand, a collection of 13 tunes that showcases an outstanding band, led by noted producer T Bone Burnett on guitar as well as the hauntingly understated vocal stylings of both Plant and Krauss.

The lead track, “Rich Woman”, a song written some 50 years ago is a toned-down, groovy honky tonk while the beautiful “Killing the Blues” is a slow dance ballad that you can imagine being played at any Enchantment Under the Sea dance many decades ago. And while you marvel at Burnett’s arrangements and the truly outstanding musicianship, the most remarkable aspect is just how naturally perfect Plant’s and Krauss’ voices swirl together. Even more impressive might be just how perfect Plant’s background vocals are, completely subdued and utterly complementary. This is most evident on one of Raising Sand’s strongest tunes, the Krauss-led and Sam Phillips-penned “Sister Rosetta Goes Before Us”. Expertly drawing on Marc Ribot’s banjo accents and the gorgeous veil of Krauss’ fiddle, Plant augments Krauss’ lead vocals in such a delicate manner that you can’t even discern the vaguest hint of his Zeppelin-era bombast.

And proving he can handle a lead in the same manner, the duo juxtaposes on the somber “Polly Come Home”, with heart-wrenching guitars supplied by Ribot and equally despondent and ethereal vocals by Plant, this time elevated by Krauss in the background.

The disc is largely down-tempo, however, which regrettably causes it to be something that you can’t just pop in any old time. And while you wish for more toe-tappers along the lines of the fun Everly Brothers’ cover “Gone Gone Gone (Done Moved On)” and “Let Your Loss Be Your Lesson” just to get the blood flowing a little, you also find yourself very satisfied with the dreamy mood that the slow songs create, just because they are so perfectly crafted, from the music to the vocals.

And while it is the whole package that makes Raising Sand such a uniquely strong release, it’s Plant’s contributions (including his original “Please Read The Letter”)that really impress. Krauss is such an effortless singer, strong and moodful, but she rarely strays from her comfort zone, which is not necessarily a bad thing; she absolutely nails very note she sings. Meanwhile, you always knew that Plant could sing, but you probably didn’t know he could sing like this.
The song selection here is also brilliant. Krauss does a wonderfully spooky job on Tom Waits’ “Trampled Rose” (thanks again to great dobro work from Marc Ribot) and the epic yet subtle rock of Townes Van Zandt’s “Nothin’”, sung by Plant is another high point. The closer, “Your Long Journey”, a duet in the purest sense of the word, simply soars, again because of the vocals of Plant and Krauss, incredibly intertwined.

Raising Sand is a surprisingly unique and important release in many respects. It serves as a fantastic vehicle to promote Krauss to Plant’s fans and vice-versa. But perhaps, more importantly, it should showcase this style of music and collaboration, not only as being viable in contemporary popular music, but as a fresh breath of musical air. Let’s hope this isn’t a one-time project, because the brilliance of these two artists together begs for more releases, especially considering this is one of the more notable discs of the year.

You can stream it here.

And if you want to read some of my other reviews on the site, check out here, here, here, here, here, here, and here.

Throwdown in Beantown

2007-10-24T08:32:00.001-05:00

Well, almost.

Me and the crew went to a concert last night and I'll spare you the full review of the performance. Instead, I'll construct a narrative about what one of my friends, Pest, called "Dinner, a show, a show, and a show".

Preceeding this, however, was a fiasco of epic proportions trying to unload an extra ticket, and almost 2 extras. Rewind a few days. Xteen and I went to a party on Saturday night which ran pretty late. Sunday, we had the Red Sox game at a friend's house which resulted in us getting about four hours sleep. The plan for Monday was to get home from work and get to bed early. Then Casper the ghost showed up and fucked it all up for me (warning to those with sensitive ears: I curse a lot in this post. And none of it is superfluous. So, go screw.)

You see, my work group likes to celebrate holidays with goofy little morale building things. Not morale building things like "here is a nice raise" or "we're treating everyone to lunch" or even "Dim, you are one sexy beast." No. no. no. Their idea of morale building is "why don't you go out tonight and spend your own money for a trick-or-treat gift package for an anonymous person." Awesome.

So, basically, I come into work Monday morning to a round cauldron-esque container on my desk filled with Halloween goodies: candy, black candles, and two enormous rubber spiders. Black candles? What? No goat's blood and chalk to draw a pentagram in my living room? What kind of jip is this?

Anyway, this came with a nearly indeciperable poem which was photocopied and accented by a drawing of Casper the Friendly Ghost. I had no idea what I was supposed to do, other than immediately throw the rubber spiders in the trash (not a fan of spiders of all kinds, especially mutantly giant ones that appear next to a fucking Twix bar in a plastic cauldron). Apparently, I'm supposed to photocopy this poem, get Halloween treats for someone else, and put this my copy of the poem on my desk, so I don't get "spooked" again. I guess it acts as like the lamb's blood when the angel of death comes after my firstborn. Whatever. Serves me right, after trying to pin this on him.

So, at lunch, I go to Target and spend 20 minutes staring blankly at the 4,368 different kinds of candy and frantically trying to do high school algebra in my head (120 pieces for $7.99 is more expensive than 35 pieces for $1.77? Uhhh...e=mc squared? Uhhh.) I left with nothing, which meant that Xteen and I had to go back to Target after work on Monday (when we were supposed to be home relaxing). With her help, I managed to then spend 45 minutes staring blankly at the 4,368 different kinds of candy and frantically trying to do high school algebra in my head. Finally, we just bought some shit and went home to cook dinner. Needless to say, we didn't catch up on any sleep.

Xteen wakes up yesterday morning wanting to bail on the show because she is exhausted and has to work a 12-hour day today (the day after the gig). I guilt her into going. I get into work and my other two concert attendees (Jesus Joe and Adam) are having shitty work days, weeks, months. Joe's plodding along, but I feel Adam is going to bail. Sure enough, later in the afternoon, I get a message from Adam that he "needs some downtime" or he is "gonna snap". Afraid that Adam's idea of "gonna snap" is getting a full facial tattoo and lighting himself on fire, I put up a little resistence, but decide to let him recharge without too much of a guilt trip. Besides, a guy from a message board I frequent knew I was going to the show and asked me weeks ago if I had an extra. I told him I didn't but would keep him in mind in case something came up.

So, I messaged this dude asking him if he wanted the now extra ticket and he said sure. About a half hour before I am supposed to leave, I get a message from him saying his friend flaked out and he doesn't need the ticket anymore. At this point, it's like I am selling admission to a fucking ebola conference. No one wants this thing.

I convinced Pest to come along, which was one the best decisions of the night, so after much coordination of rides and parking, we set out.

We settled on this place to hang out before the show. After a $23 round for 4 beers, I wasn't sure how much I loved Mr. Jacob Wirth. But we ordered food which was pretty good and some beers. All of a sudden, we heard this crazy "CRASH!!" behind us. Well, someone didn't yell "CRASH!!!", we heard the sound of something crashing. We look over to see our waiter on his keister amid a spilled sea of nachos grande all over the floor. The patrons from that table get up, clean themselves off, and move over one table. Our waiter limps off like he just got hit with a bazooka.

At this point, we are debating staying at this joint or going to another place for a beer or two before hitting the show.

The Marx Brothers come over to help clean up and one of them drops what Jesus subsequently called the biggest mop he's ever seen, which almost clocks one of the patrons who just had to leave the messy table off the melon. Jesus Joe says, "I think that's a sign to move on."

So far, you have dinner and one show.

So, we did. We ended up at a place where the conversation turned to how much Pest, Jesus Joe, and I hate our jobs right now. This lasted for about 45 minutes and included such tremdously hyperbole like Pesty saying, "Even if I was making a half a mil, I'd still want to leave". So, we were pretty riled up when we left for the show.

The second show is the concert itself. We saw this band, which was excellent. They are a pop rock band from Canada and their lead singer/songwriter, Carl Newman, writes some of the most insanely catchy melodies you have ever heard. You should check them out. Besides, they had Neko Case (one of the best voices in music) in their band this time around. The three guys in my troupe (and Xteen for all I know) not-so-secretly lust hard after Neko, so going to this was an easy decision. The band was tight, and they did NOT sound like a cross between the Mamas and the Papas and the B-52s, no matter what Jesus Joe says.

Show #3 comes up now. We get to the venue a little bit late and the show is sold out, so we are stuck in the back, which is OK. The venue is up two sets of stairs, which come up from either side. They convene in this little common area where there are couches. You walk up from that and there is a vestibule area and then two small corridors on either side that leads to either side of the music hall. It looks a little like this:

The rounded part at the top is the common area. The beginning of the Fallopian tubes are the corridors. The ovary on the left is the merchandise stand (no, they didn't sell any eggs). There are mini-bars set up along the uterine wall, the cervix is where all the folks who arrive early get to stand, and the band plays in the vagina (naturally).

So, we are standing near the left ovary when Xteen decides she needs to use the restroom, which is at the end of the right Fallopian tube. She goes and comes back and discovers that the sound is better over on the right side, so we move over. We're settle about 7 or 8 feet from the back wall (but still in the music hall proper).

Almost immediately, we notices that there are two friggin assholes behind us having a really loud conversation during the whole. fucking. show.

I don't like this, as you may know.

We let it go for a little while, just giving them dirty looks and saying loudly in between songs to each other, "I wish people would stop talking during the show!" They were too stupid to stop. Other people weren't happy with them either.

It gets so obnoxious at one point that Xteen is visibly unhappy. I ask her if she wants me to go talk to them and she says she is going to do it. Xteen is one of the most non-confrontational people I know (along with myself, who, if I saw someone from a distance trying to break into my car, I'd probably unlock it for them with the remote keyless entry so they could get into it easier and I wouldn't have to deal with them).

Jesus Joe intecepts Xteen and decides to go talk to them himself. He comes back after like a minute (I couldn't really hear what he was saying) and stands next to me. I ask him what he said and Jesus Joe just says that he asked them to quiet down or take it somewhere else and they said, "OK."

Fast forward to 8 nanoseconds later. They are talking again, just as loud, if not louder than before. Jesus Joe is noticeably even more unhappy than before and makes a bee-line to the two guys (one is a curly-headed guy who wants nothing to do with us and the other was the real smart ass with short hair). My non-confrontational self had enough and decided to join him. Pest remained just on the perimeter of this, arms folded across the chest, just waiting for the nod that would turn him into a one man gang.

Jesus Joe and the smart ass are getting in a pretty heated discussion. Sarcasm abound. Jesus telling him they are still loud, the guy trying to claim he is there promoting the band, giving some fake name to which Jesus says, "What's your name? My name? I can give you a fake name too." Just really funny stuff. The smart ass accuses Jesus of being an asshole. Jesus fires back. Joe refuses to accept his apology. I go up to the curly-haired guy who apologizes to me and says, about the band, "It's beautiful music", to which I reply, "I wouldn't know. We can't fucking hear it with you talking."

I notice Jesus starting to walk away and the smart ass gives him a little shove in the back. Not a two-handed knock you over shove; more like a "get outta here" shove. But a shove nonetheless. It is here that I am grateful that an about-to-snap Adam isn't around. But after the shove, my non-confrontational Dimness got about 4 inches from smart ass' nose and said, "Dude, you really DON'T want to be doing that." Yes. I called him "dude".

He starts babbling and I said, "Look, I don't want to hear it. I don't give a fuck if you want to talk, but go do it out in the common area or in between the Fallopian tubes. Don't do it here. We asked you nicely once to be quiet and you didn't. Just stop fucking talking."

He started babbling about Joe being an asshole and he thanked me for being cool about it to which I replied, "I'm not being cool about it. Go somewhere else." He apologized about a thousand times to me and said he didn't realize he was being so loud. I replied, "Well, the reason why you are so loud is because you are trying to talk over the music. The music is loud. You're louder."

I walked away and me and Jesus stood next to each other, arms crossed over our chests. I felt like a million fucking dollars, because all of the frustration of having to swallow people talking at the hundreds of shows came out in my tempered fury. Jesus looks over to me and has the quote of the century:

"They just picked the wrong fucking day."

I looked behind us 2 minutes later and they were done.

Xteen said her heart was going a million miles an hour when I was over there, but I didn't feel any adrenaline rush at all. I felt totally calm and surprisingly willing to throw down: "THIS is for that stupid Casper the Ghost thing at my work...and THIS is for making me do algebra in Target...and THIS is for that fucking $6.00 pint at Jacob Wirth's...and THIS is for talking over Neko..."

We left the show still on a bit of a high and I decided to tempt fate and give a little dig at Jesus as we walked down the street. "Hey, you notice that after YOU asked them to shut up, they kept talking, but after I went over, they buggered off?", I said.

Xteen whispers through clenched teeth, "They're right behind us."

I whisper back, "Really?"

"Uh-huh"

At that point, I began walking back to the garage in a pace I'd like to describe as moderately brisk. Some may say "running away like a little girl", but I'll go with moderately brisk. So, moderately brisk it is. Hey, it could have started to rain at any second. I didn't want to get wet.

Fin.

- Dim.