"One More Time," Daft Punk
I love music. And while I won't dramatically and deceitfully say I couldn't live without it, I
can say my life would be irrevocably changed--irrevocably
less--if music wasn't a constant. I blast tunes into my earbuds while I'm getting ready in the morning (Red Hot Chili Peppers
I'm With You is my current choice pick), my phone reverberates with my favorite jams when people I love call (the ever-romantic Chemical Brothers are a staple for Tim), and for most of my teaching career, my classroom has been full of music at least 25% of any given school day. With the holidays
quickly approaching here, Pandora Christmas is currently bookmarked on my MacBook, and I spend at least an hour or so a week perusing new releases and reading album reviews.
Some of my music-fanatic friends are perfectly content listening to music in the comfort of their own homes, cars, or offices. I'm sure I could be too, but the truth is I'm just a massive sucker for live shows. The experience of watching someone so utterly talented passionately sing and perform about life experiences so raw and personal and
loud is virtually impossible to put on paper, but so completely sensational. Over the past three months, I have been lucky enough to catch some of my very favorite bands in some of my very favorite venues. The highlights:
Unwritten Law
Velvet Jones, Santa Barbara; September 7
A celebration
(About time)
A generation out of line (yeah)
The revolution's in everyone
I can't really explain my decade-long obsession with Unwritten Law. Point blank: They really aren't that great of a band; evident in their meager-at-best record sales and willingness to tour in less-than-stellar locations. Their lyrics are relatively standard and predictable, their sound is more pop-punk than true punk, and with the exception of Scott Russo (pictured above), their members change about as often as the seasons due to ill-timed fights, addictions, and (always my personal favorite) "creative differences." Additionally, they don't seem to "explore musically," as so many artists claim to do with each record. However, I can't seem to "shake" this band, nor do I want to. About twice a year I inevitably enter an Unwritten Law phase. Akin to a bear in an isolated albeit abridged hibernation, I listen to virtually nothing else for a week or two, remembering every nuance to every song and ruining the speakers in my poor Honda CRV. I've seen Unwritten Law 4-5 times live, although this show at Velvet Jones was easily the best yet. Tim and I arrived early and ended up in the front row of the small venue. Beers in hand and inches away from Unwritten Law's 14-year frontman, we got our "kicks under the neon lights" for a solid two hours. They played a full setlist complete with old favorites and new gems off of their latest release, Swan. Slightly (heavily?) intoxicated and blissfully happy in the spotlight, the members of their latest clan positively glowed. I'll be at as many future so-Cal shows as my wallet can handle, no questions asked.
Fleet Foxes
Santa Barbara County Bowl; September 13
After all is said and done I feel the same
All that I hoped would change within me stayed
Like a huddled moonlit exile, on the shore
Warming his hands a thousand years ago
It seems like America is obsessed with Fleet Foxes. Don't get me wrong; I think they're great. This was certainly a fun show, and I have to say their live music sound is close to flawless. Live, Fleet Foxes prove they are essentially the anti-thesis of processed and manufactured music-- their talent is raw and real. That being said, this wasn't my favorite show of the fall-- by a long shot. Perhaps that's because I saw some pretty kick-ass shows. Or perhaps it's because try as I might, I won't ever be the world's biggest Foxes fan. Whatever the case, Fleet Foxes are a noteworthy band that puts on a commendable show, and if given the choice again in an alternate-universe type fashion, I would most certainly go again.
Bon Iver
The Shrine Auditorium, Los Angeles; September 19
Only love is all maroon
Lapping lakes like leery loons
Leaving rope burns--
Reddish ruse
Justin Vernon, the lead singer (and mastermind) behind Bon Iver, is a genius. I've never heard music quite like this, and I have no idea how to categorize it. Unbeknownst to me, the Monday night setlist included my two favorite songs back-to-back. The version of "Blood Bank" was raucous and louder than the album version, and the crowd gave a standing ovation at its close. Shocked by the response, the band only played a few notes of the much slower "Beth/Rest" next, before stopping altogether and claiming, without words, that they couldn't let the momentum and rush of "Blood Bank" fade. And even though that meant they were skipping one of the songs (I thought) would be a highlight of the show, I couldn't disagree. Seemingly unaware of his talent and magnitude, Vernon casually stood in the forefront of the stage and allowed his band to help him build "sonic cathedrals," as the LA Times so accurately dubbed the performance. Perhaps LA Weekly described the final moments of this performance, which ended with "The Wolves (Act 1 & 2)", best: "The echoes of our voices bounced off the walls and shook the foundations, repeating over and over again the cryptic refrain, "What might have been lost?" It was as if to give thanks for the fact that we are alive and lucky enough to be together in one place to sing with this band."
Bright Eyes
Santa Barbara County Bowl; September 25
We must blend into the choir
Sing as static with the whole
We must memorize nine numbers and deny we have a soul
And in this endless race for property and privilege to be won
We must run, we must run, we must run
We must hang up in the belfry
Where the bats and moonlight laugh
We must stare into a crystal ball and only see the past
And in the caverns of tomorrow
With just our flashlights and our love
We must plunge, we must plunge, we must plunge
In the hauntingly dark but craftily honest "Ladder Song," Bright Eyes' searingly genius frontman Conor Oberst laments he feels "estranged every now and then," claiming to be "tired of traitors always changing sides" and warning others they're "not alone in anything," because they aren't "unique in dying." It certainly isn't upbeat, and while perhaps intellectually and scientifically poignant, for the most part his lyrics are scathing and depressing. However, somehow Oberst manages to interpose the perfect combination of vulnerability and sensitivity into his songs, and on this particular night when he winningly whined, "I gotta get to the con-cert," I'm sure I wasn't the only audience member grinning giddily from ear-to-ear.
Styx
Santa Barbara County Bowl; October 4
I look to the sea
Reflections in the waves spark my memory
Some happy, some sad
I think of childhood friends and the dreams we had
We lived happily forever
So the story goes
But somehow we missed out on the pot of gold
But we'll try best that we can to carry on
Disclaimer: I was (formerly) not a Styx fan. One of my best friends in college used to blast Come Sail Away on repeat occasionally in the dorms, and I vaguely remember humming along non-commitedly. Additionally, I know my mom was a big Styx fan years ago, and so I've coincidentally heard her mention their name in passing. However, going into this show, I honestly viewed Styx as a washed-up opener for a much "greater" band. I couldn't have been more wrong. Styx was a tour de force of noise and lights and energy. They tore up the stage like young twenty-somethings, belting out every single note eerily on key and with an impressive-to-say-the-least vibrancy not usually lost on brand-new artist--but these guys have been around for decades. They went out with a bang, revving the audience up for the main event.
Journey
Santa Barbara County Bowl; October 4
In the shadows of a golden age
A generation waits for dawn
Brave carry on
Bold and the strong
Ever since I was a thirteen-year-old with a copy of Journey's Greatest Hits in my hand, I've considered myself SOCOOL to like this band. I remember blasting "Wheel in the Sky" on repeat for about SIX MONTHS as a teenager, attempting to become a part of the "older, cooler" music crowd of a previous generation. Seeing Journey live was just as fun as you would expect, even with the added fact that Steve Perry has been replaced by Arnel Pineda-- (whose voice sounds like a carbon copy of the former lead singer's). Their 80's power-pop music is catchy, their phrases well-known, and their audience genuinely loves having a good time singing along with the band. The final song of the night was "Any Way You Want It," and every single person in the crowd (ushers included!) was dancing and singing along to every word.
ALO (Animal Liberation Orchestra)
SoHo, Santa Barbara; October 31
The road is long and windy
like a good mystery unfolding
It twists and turns in colorful subplots and sunburns and fake out endings
And sometimes my patience in the whole process starts bending
As I attempt to unravel the web
by traversing and rehearsing and perversing
along the doubt-laden extension chord thread of my life
The biggest bummer about this show was that the band didn't take the stage until really late. As a result, we didn't end up staying through the entire set-- a long day coupled with work the next day. Which was unfortunate-- this is a band who genuinely loves performing, and that attitude and energy is not lost on the audience. While I didn't know a ton of ALO songs, it was impossible not to enjoy their silliness and creativity. Sounding a little like a mix between Jack Johnson, G. Love, and the Dirty Heads, ALO impressed with their clean sound and light mood.
My Morning Jacket
Gibson Amphitheatre, Los Angeles; December 5
I'm going where there ain't no fear
I'm going where the spirit is near
I'm going where the living is easy
And the people are kind
A new state of mind
I'm going where there ain't no police
I'm going where there ain't no disease
I'm going where there ain't no need
To escape from what is
Only spirits at ease
One of my best friends bought tickets to this show mere hours before they took the stage, and we sped down to Los Angeles on a Monday night with hardly a moment's notice. This was his sixth or seventh time seeing MMJ live, however it was my first, and they certainly didn't disappoint. MMJ performs with this unparalleled and almost ghostly ability to channel the likes of Led Zeppelin and Neil Young, but do so in a way that's uniquely their own-- the viewer never gets the impression the band is simply trying to re-create rock music of someone else's. Instead, it seems like MMJ wants to remold rock music in a way that fits them, and they genuinely-- but not desperately-- want their audience members to join them. This show was magnificent, and I'm rather ashamed that it was my first time seeing them live. I'm crossing my fingers in the hopes of seeing their name as a co-headliner at Coachella 2012.
Watch the Throne: Jay-Z & Kanye West
Staples Center; December 12
I made "Jesus Walks" so I'm never going to hellCouture level flow, it's never going on saleLuxury rap, the Hermes of versesSophisticated ignorance, write my curses in cursiveI get it custom, you a customerYou ain't 'customed to going through CustomsYou ain't been nowhere, huh?
Not unlike most of the shows listed above, words just can't do justice to this masterpiece. Seeing Jay-Z and Kanye live, together, was a dream come true for me. Loud, abrasive, haunting, polished, and pure perfection, these Kings did nothing but throw diamonds and proudly display their well-deserved throne for over forty songs and three-plus hours. As the stage went dark after the final notes of the encore, Kanye's voice could be heard high above the soaring cheers. In true KW-arrogance-fashion, he laughed: "Sorry if this was your first concert. It's all downhill from here." As irritating as his love for himself and his music might be, I can't argue with that. I'll just let the setlist do the talking:
H.A.M., Who Gon' Stop Me, Otis, Welcome to the Jungle, Gotta Have It, Where I'm From, Jigga What, Jigga Who, Can't Tell Me Nothing, All Falls Down, Flashing Lights, Jesus Walks, Diamonds from Sierra Leone, Public Service Announcement, U Don't Know, Run This Town, Monster, Power, Made in America, New Day, Hard Knock Life, Izzo (HOVA), Empire State of Mind, Runaway, Heartless, Stronger, On to the Next One, Dirt Off Your Shoulder, I Just Wanna Love U, That's My Bitch, Good Life, Touch the Sky, All of the Lights, Big Pimpin', Gold Digger, 99 Problems, No Church in the Wild, Lift Off, N****s in Paris (times NINE!) Sidenote: This was quite honestly the quintessential prototype concert of my life. And if Yeezy and Hove had replaced "Public Service Announcement" with "Why I Love You" and "That's My Bitch" with "See Me Now"? Well, there's a chance I may have just dropped dead in the orchestra seating of Los Angeles's most famous stadium, because I was thisclose to doing so anyway...
"After silence, that which comes nearest to
expressing the inexpressible is music."
-Aldous Huxley
