Revolution.

The music business is cooked. Seriously. Laughable the shit you can read online. Fluffery passing as commentary.

No one has the answers. Those professing to have ‘em. BWHAHHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

Revolution.

What will they do to us?

Sheer deomgraphics says that white bread rock is on the wane. So. Grammys post up Bruno Mars and Chris Brown. Wow.

Revolution.

Looking at how Chris Brown ran the press after the Grammy’s with that beach shoot? In Miami? With those. Wow. I can’t even type it. Blue Royal Retro X Jordan’s? BWHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. Thanks for posing them with the logo on the back in case I was mildly epileptic or stupid.

Revolution.

I’m going to shows. The ones I like. This shit can’t be real. One thing is for sure. I respect no one. But myself. And ChrisT’s photos.

And that Nike Foamposite Galaxy release that will leave at least one person dead on the street. That’s hype. That is Who-Cincinnati type shit. Pathetic it comes from that avenue and not music anymore.

Passion is dead on the cultural level. Just as some old bitch rocking an album implying a drug reference 99.9% of her audience will never get.

Revolution.

From somewhere else.

And it isn’t here yet. So boring. Music…we’re waiting.

At an age…

Stuck. Between a river of boomers going out with a whimper and millenials coming in with a whine. Thank Jehovah for the internet. Made it all interesting. Nobody knows what the fuck is going on. Those that perpetrate to do? Liars. Unless you have a shit ton of money. Kinda money that makes Jay-Z look like a train riding hobo.

I gotta lot to say today. And goddamn. My site hosting is paid up.

Grammys. What a piss down your leg opportunity this year was. I’m not even going to say the obvious. Who gets a bounce. Who doesn’t. I know the type of scalper scum that read this site. Let’s get smarter. And everything is a market. Must feel bad not seeing the obvious like Mumford last year. Huh.

The biggest star in youth culture right now is Kanye West. And he wasn’t there. Whomever made that happen should be kicked in the career-groin. End of comment.

Adele. Not as big as you think. Never will be. They will pimp her to venues out of her league and the truth will be out there. Just ask The Black Keys. And a long line before them. Or Lupe Fiasco. Motherfucker canceled his PDX gig and I was looking forward to that shit. Even got my shoe game correct for it. Fucking jerks with greed. Booking a fucking arena. Donkeys.

Beach Boys? Jesus fucking christ Grammys. I know 60 year olds still believe in brick and mortar. But fucking hell in the liberty bell.

The world has changed. And most of the people in the front row of the Grammy’s with a colostomy bag or Depends don’t get it. Or the lames playing to that. The demographics combined with economics mean that there is no where to hide for bad work. In advertising. Music. Commentary. Fashion. Food. The whining is from the losers, posers, and dick riding fanboys. Agendas are obvious. Free tickets. Shoe hookups. Christ knows what.

Remember that.

Just look at the lames in the NBA dunk contest this year. People are afraid to fail. Ask Lebron James. Ain’t that just like Dwayne Wade?

Filter appropriately.

Life is fun afterwards.

For those of you not in PDX “December To Remember” is a string of holiday shows put on by local indie rock station 94.7FM. As much as I loathe terrestrial radio, I’ll say this. These shows are always well put together. Sure, it is ready-made Kool-aid. But, I’m too old and apathetic for a hard core scene where everyone wears an ice grill. And, of course, pretends to not know each other. At like 100 people gigs.

We went to Mumford and Sons, Death Cab For Cutie, and this show. As well as a Cave Singers show the weekend prior. By the end of that string? I was ready for a nap and a heavy regimen of stimulants.

Mumford and Sons was good. That bandwagon is crowded enough. Enough people driving that, hanging off, and rolling off to puke in the gutters. Even in an arena, they brought it. One of the few certain stars left in pop/rock.

Death Cab For Cutie. I dunno. Crowd shot. There was this older guy. Silver hair. Totally gripped in a midlife crisis. Righteously coked up. Fucking guy, wanted to chat us up. Give us the show resume.

“I went to Young The Giant and was pogoing!” Cool, man–you’re my hero.
“I pogo every morning.” Doubt it, but fucking A Ray.
GuesshowoldIam? Too old to be talking like this fuck-o.
Blah to the fucking blah. With some bitch that was trying to amuse him. She was giving Chris the up and down look. Her eyes said save me. My feet said…your problem.

As an aside, I’ve been hitting Chris with some real wackjobs lately. At a show not to be named, someone dropped the fact that they massage dogs. Yes. Dawg masseur. How do you even do that? And, why? Anyways, I made sure to act supremely impressed and then drop that fact on ChrisT. You know, just to put him in an awkward social situation. Noting better than seeing a split second yougottabefuckingkidding face followed by the quick cover up of polite interest.

All this bullshit has a point.

Outside of small club shows at the Doug Fir, much of the entertainment out and about is of our own making. At shows. And that is a god damn shame. We’re too old for dubstep. I’m not about to go to a rave. Jesus, I’d be laughed outta the building. Or warehouse. Or rat-trap. Rock has ceased to be dangerous. I’m gonna hit a rap show just to get the blood flowing. At least I’ll see some security. Hell, maybe even be threatened. I’ll rock my Retro Jordan XI Concords. Live dangerously. Go home in my socks.

Better than massaging a fucking stranger’s pooch.

Or pogoing in my underwear.

This shit can’t be real.

A final aside, only in Portland can an NBA post game show be comprised of 4 hosts. One hottish piece, a dude with man-boobs, another cutter rocking a faux-hawk and all black, and a dude rocking more liver spots than entertaining facts. Post game or cable access? I’ll see them at my next show. Now THAT’S a high percentage shot. Huh? Rockstar life.

This is the third show from The Cave Singers that we’ve seen at The Doug Fir. This band’s popularity (or lack of) is still a little bit of a mystery to me. Pure economical standpoint? They’re a probably a little too real.

Our gain. The Doug Fir Lounge is a killer room and the sounds always brings it to a high level. Makes me wonder if it was equipped for an area twice the size. Every angle? Beautiful.

2011′s No Witch delivers a running side kick to the other recorded stuff I listened to last year. Distilling it down to hyphens is tiresome. Conventional wisdom on the internet is rolling with ‘folk’. No sale. This is music that makes me wanna drink. Moonshiner music. Outdoor weed cultivator music.

Live. The Cave Singers supported Fleet Foxes on their national tour last year. Still no general public heat. I guess that fan base can go suck a donkey dick through a pixie stick for all I care. Because this is heat.

The Cave Singers are three albums in and are building a live catalogue that smokes. No Witch is a little more…rawk…making things a little more hard. Rough. In a good way.

Set starts with “Faze Wave”. The most psychedelic live offering of the night. Not 1969, gobble some paper, sit in the corner shitting yourself while the wallpaper blooms and dies type pysch. Just beautiful.

Here’s one cat’s interpretation

Faze Wave

I’m worried if I tell you where to sit/stand at the show you’ll hustle it from us. But here you go. Side stage. Quirk’s side. That’s the Mrs. Buttersworth (before the makeover) side. All the heat. Quirk is an old soul comfortable with a crowd and himself. So work that.

“At The Cut” flies by super early in the set. Always bitter sweet when fire like that pops quick. Love it, cause you know, juiced enough to enjoy it if you are driving. But if you dork out on shit like this, starts the mind scramble on what is coming next. Lametastic. You know though. Real talk.

More linky: At The Cut

This type of shit makes me feel alive. Still.

So yeah. I don’t get why people aren’t on street corners flying cardboard signs and yelling at people through bullhorns about this band, but what the hell. Here’s more….Black Leaf. A quick google search says that this is a 6 percolator bong. Hmmmmm. Layered on top of the official video

Black Leaf

and that mix of info leaves me as confused as Chris Bosh. But living it live clears up alot….

Black Leaf Live

Last one. ‘Cuase if you are already on this band it is a love. If you aren’t by now. Return to the Fleet Foxes show or whatever the hell else floats your banana boat.

Props to whomever recorded this version of No Prosecution If We Bail. Casbah in SD. As anyone can tell, this is high octane corn whiskey right here. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. Sounds this good? Recorded with this kind of resolution? Get the fuck out, right? Shit gives me chills. Damn. Makes me wanna go out and make babies. And I want that like I want herpes. Makes me wanna be kind to strangers. Be a better person. Adopt stray dogs, cats, and Republicans. I’m allergic to fucking cats. And allergic maybe to…ah never mind. Uhhhhhhh

NPIWB

Set ends with an encore of Dancing On Our Graves. Really is like a tent revival charlatan diddy bopping the masses to heal them. Only this shit is real.

Dancing On Our Graves

I’d discuss my fear of clowns and astronauts with complete strangers if some rich motherfucker bankrolled this group and got them lifted. They totally deserve it. Great show.

pics by ChrisT

Our aural fixation with the The Pack a.d. took a brief hiatus last year. If they hit PDX in support of 2010′s we kill computers, we missed it. This year’s recorded release, Unpersons, is straight up heat. The kind of hook laden garage-blues-punk-blahblah hybrid that one listen through made me jones for the live show. Glad we made it.

The Doug Fir. Always a quality hang. Set times are posted. Always nice. 10:30 for The Pack a.d. And the opening act is a band called Black Pussy. With that kid of name it has to be hot or flat out gong show. Anything in between would be a waste.

Frankly, the name Black Pussy combined with the appropriate amount of liquor and immaturity is a conversational goldmine.

“You ready to go down for Black Pussy?”
“I’m just here for Black Pussy”
And on it goes. You can imagine.

So. Black Pussy. Let’s get into it.

This band was hella fun. 6 band members that at first glance look like the smartest kid in my high school physics class, or the kids who dealt that kid weed. Songs like “Marijuana” don’t dissuade my initial impressions. All in all, I was pretty taken by Black Pussy (see, it never gets old for me). They were loud enough to pin my eyes in their sockets and left me telling ChrisT he can stay up front all he wants, I was going to hide in the back. Wicked fun. I’d go see them again. Hell, I’ve paid alot more for alot worse.

The Pack a.d. Here’s the deal. 3/4th’s of their recorded output get me crazy. I’m not sitting through this show with a notepad or hitting a set list into my phone like some kind of wanker. These are they type of shows I use to go back 20 years in age and shave a couple more years off of proper liver function.

As usual, Maya (drums) is engaging, funny, and just plain rock n roll. Becky Black (guitar/vocals) is always on it. I’d like to see her unwound on stage and getting violent. One can dream. In the end, my memories are mainly of my vision shaking and grainy as I enjoyed the show with the rest of the cool kids (cause if you were there, you are). I pretty much know what Boris Yeltsin felt like at vodka tasting, state dinners, and well after breakfast. But, here are some highlights from the new album

“Positronic”
“Haunt You”
“Sirens”
“Lights”
“Rid Of Me”

Totally hope The Pack a.d. catches a little heat. They make my life better.

The woman screaming for “Blackout” during the encore should run for mayor. As usual, that song live is fire. Soundtrack for bad decision making and failed drug tests.

Great. Two bands and a venue that brought it. Thanks.

Show Date: Oct 19, 2011
Ticket Price: $24.99 (scalped)

Sorry sports fans for the radio silence. When I’m not feeling it, nothing happens. Not every show is worth writing about. Life isn’t always worth getting work in.

This show is sold out. God, I love Portland.

ChrisT champions this band to me. A year ago he took in their MFNW 2010 set with like 35 people. While I was sweating out a Smashing Pumpkins line. Gettin’ my ’90′s character built.

ChrisT even talked to some of the members after a midnight dime walking tour of PDX. Weird shit happens at MusicFest.

So what?

I’m late to this one. Chris is wrapping his head, heart, and hands around alcohol at Cassidy’s just around the corner from the venue. The line is stretching. Streeeeeetching.

Me (entering the joint)
“Why are these people this far in line?”
ChrisT: “Because they are idiots.”

Truth.

Always tell amateur hour. If the line wraps around the corner at the Crystal? Get a beer. You ain’t getting the rail.

I’m getting lit instead.

Besides? Cassidy’s is kinda old skool cool. Not jello shot friendly. But. You know. Holds it down.

Get in. I’m pegging needles off the motherfucking meter.

Crowd inside the venue is young. Decidedly female. Certainly intoxicated. If you are young and got a little swagger to you? I’m sure copping something fresh would be easy. We’re neither young or swag, so I eavesdrop on people.

Blah blah blah shit from a group of young females. That shit is worse than a lobotomy. At all motherfucking levels. Dude behind us is way older than us. Rare. He’s evangelizing John Butler Trio. Gotta give it up for that. I tell him he is cool. ‘Cause why? He’s still livin’ on all the levels. Not dead.

Are you? Crazy raw.

Head ‘N The Heart. I know. I’m stallin’.

It is a good show. Not fire like a nuclear bomb. But very 2011. Lot of people on stage. And all that. Seems like new acts bring the quantity. Which is fine. It is a good act and musically solid. Like alot of things nowadays I think it is driven mainly by a live booking agent who kicks ass. Respect. We all ball in our own ways. And the Head And The Heart was a good hang. Even if this review doesn’t cop a set list and do a industry insider facial special.

Next. Like an Air Jordan Cement III Retro. Bitches.

Huh?

Don’t worry, we’ll get back in the zone. Where’s the Posies?

Nirvana’s Nevermind is, of course, 20 years old.

Indirectly, seems like many more are marking it with Pearl Jam’s movie. Or pulling in a show.
If you are a fan or scalp, I’m sure you were on top of the live action. Even Chris Cornell is pulling indirect heat from it.

I was 19 when it came out. Felt old them. Felt the shows were passing me by.

Now it is doubling that up and I feel younger. Most rocking the shows now are squares. No perspective from the endless, nameless millenials and the real action is on the electronic music side. I believe that. After a solid 5 days of rocking MFNW 2011, there really is no doubt.

Digress.

Nevermind had just as big an influence on the live side. Not discussed about much. But the shadow is large and present at every “indie” show I go to. Burying the hit 3 songs in the set? Where did that nod to legitimacy come from? Punk? Sure…..that old dog isn’t going to hunt. No pyro? No lasers? No stage banner? No production? Lyrics have to mean something? This is art and passion, baby. All about the music and not the flash? Again. Where’s the genesis? The 60′s? The Sex Pistols? Cool, but, I’m not buying.

Sad thing is. That attitude is so tired and boring the flash is actually novel in rock. Some dilweed torches a roman candle on stage? Probably end up getting gang raped out of excitement at this point. Burn the stage at a festival and it is a religious experience.

I remember in 1996, taking my then girlfriend to see the KISS tour in all makeup.

What a human shitshow.

I still remember this older woman quizzing me on the tracklist from the Destroyer album. Shut her ass down. “You’re too young to be a REAL KISS fan”.

Should have told her if the human flea circus around me was any indication, then she was right.

But, my pride was injured so I started singing “Cold Gin” to her.

Regardless. As usual. The show started with “you wanted the best, you got the best. The hottest band in the land…KISS!” Fireworks. Mayhem.

3 minutes in, I look to my girl and she is doubled over laughing. She cut her teeth on underground shows. Flash was the anti-cool.

“I though they were kidding! They are actually serious!”

“Cool it, or these people are going to kick my ass”.

20 years. Good times. I’m ready for flash personally. There’s enough pain and emotion on the streets and real life for me.

Cost=Free
Sponsor=94.7FM Portland.
Band=Bush
Show Date: September 19th, 2011

Bush sold out the Rose Garden around 1996. Basketball arena with support from No Doubt and Goo Goo Dolls. To give some perspective, I think that would be about the equivalent of Foster The People and The Naked and Famous juicing a basketball arena now. Think that could happen?

I’m sure LiveNation or a like minded promoter will try sooner rather than later. Better be cheap face price.

This show was a complete demonstration of the legacy power of radio and the current status of that platform.

Everyone there knew the closing song “Machine Head” and they sang it. And I am sure the 10-12 people who cheered when asked if they went to the show last night at the 1400-ish capacity Roseland Theater sang it the loudest.

How many were singing along to the new album track?
Zero.

How many were there because 94.7fm blasted their email list with the show announcement the day of?
Over 300.

How many will actually purchase Bush’s new album from that free show experience?
Bonus question: will it recoup the cost of gas for the tour bus to get there?

I’m not hating. I’m asking the relevant financial questions.

As a music fan who follows the industry loosely, it is the mantra. The money is in the live business. There is zero argument there. Recording revenue decline is self-evident.

Know what else is self evident?
Live revenues are poised for a fall, too.

You can smell it if you sniff around.

LiveNation/TicketMaster foisting a paperless ticketing system because they want to take care of “fans”. Yes, those companies dedication to the fan over decades of empirical data and experience is well documented. Poor venue experiences and hyper-inflated ticket prices and fees, fees, fees. They want to be the only industry that controls your purchase long after you have bought it. Last ditch rape attempt.

The biggest laugh is they trumpet an increase in ticket revenue to Wall Street while bragging they rolled fees into the price of the ticket to take care of fan complaints. Raising overall prices while lumping the fees into the whole to be fan friendly. Overall, we’re paying more than the year before right? There’s corporate logic there. Are we supposed to like TicketMaster now?

TicketMaster was VERY excited to announce their partnership with GroupOn.
Tells you where prices are going.

Goldstar (a volume discounter) just sold their 5millionth ticket.

Overpriced/Over-reached capacity shows like AC/DC at Gillette Stadium, Britney Spears, Sade, etc. etc. saw people moved from the cheap seats to better locations at the venue. How do you think that takes care of your high paying “fans”? How many tours before LiveNation, et al educate the public to buy cheap seats and wait to be moved? Or just wait period for the discount? Or just sit on the side?

The trend is the friend of the fan. LiveNation can mouthpiece it all they want about what side they are on. But they are a public company with no history of caring about customer retention and return. They care about their investors.

As far as radio music format? Lost cause. Leverage the mail list and local tie-ins while you can. Just my opinion. But I’m not a smart insider. Just a dumbass with a blog. Which means, of course, I’m all wrong…

But next time a show is in town that 94.7FM is sponsoring? I’d wait for the freebie pre/post….same for KINK. Same for….

Great time to be a music fan. Thanks for the free show.

Friday night of Musicfest NW. Shabazz Palaces are opening for Seattle’s Macklemore and Lewis. Macklemore’s music is mainstream like Wonder Bread. The result is a disparate mix of show goers. Hipsters. Para-professionals (I think half the mezzanine was formalizing what exactly the perfect tweet was for this show), clued in music/hip-hop lovers, and ubiquitous suburban tweens.

Shabazz Palaces’ 2011 release, Black Up, is an amazing work. Summarzied by the line in “free press and curl”

Catchy? Yes. But trendy? No.

The style is not verse-chorus-verse and the beats and lyrics are a weaving path inside the same song where the start and end may or may not be linear. The whole thing is a head trip in the best possible way.

Stage setup is a table with a laptop and some congas. Low frequency sound and the Roseland’s acoustics aren’t exactly like peanut butter and chocolate but thankfully the venue didn’t churn songs like “An echo from from the hosts that profess infinitum”, “free press and curl”, and “Recollections of the wraith” into a muddled mess. Palaceer Lazaro (aka Ishmael Butler) live sounded great.

No call and response. No corny I say “hey” you say “ho”. No one doing any kind of bullshit hype.

About six songs in, the tweens and bros had reached the end of their tolerance for hip hop that wasn’t pop sampled cock grabbing. Up went the “Macklemore! Macklemore! Macklemore!” chants.

Palaceer Lazaro handled it.
“Hold up. Hold up, now. You know the man is coming out here in just a few minutes, right?”

That shut it down. They closed out with their last song and left the stage.

This show in alot of ways felt like a missed opportunity. Unortunate. The music itself is superb. Palaceer Lazaro live sounds fantastic. Tone. Flow. Everything. Congas and a laptop just isn’t going to command an audience raised on video jump cuts and radio diluted hip-hop into listening. Really listening. Just plain truth. Shabazz Palaces are artists and I’m guessing they want the music to stand on it’s own merits. That is completely understandable. Without some kind of flash in the show? Converting the uninitiated mainstream seems like a difficult task. Totally wish them godspeed with the approach, though. Takes guts.

In this era with everyone moving from track to track so fast, this music getting lost in the shuffle would be a damn shame.

Big Freedia.

Holy shit. This was a madhouse.

Big Freedia’s given name is Freddy. Her performance is New Orleans bounce music. Huge ass beats (see what I did there?) with a lot of call and response hip hop style. And focus on getting asses moving. All asses. Gender, sexual orientation, size, etc are not considerations. At a Big Freedia show there is no need for 3/5ths provisions, footnotes, or fine print. She just wants to get asses bouncing.

Proof.

For “Azz Everywhere” Big Freedia invited all interested asses to the stage. A bigger woman asked if she could come up. Big Freedia’s response?

“It’s all fine.”

Big Freedia’s 2010 MFNW after stop where she destroyed Portland’s strip club Sassy’s with a performance that is the stuff of legend. Check it at Into The Woods. The 5:30min mark in is when it gets hectic.

Dante’s was hot. Packed. Sweaty. Slick. For “Azz Everywhere” 15-20 bent over asses shook ass water everywhere. Some of the ass shakers then participated in Booty Battles. Ass to ass bounce combat. All this going down from 1:00-1:45a.m. on a Saturday night.

Nothing but a party. Everyone is invited and no one cares what the hell you are about.