One Over One Hundred

Left d.b.a. too early

2006-04-18T23:29:00.000-07:00

This is the revamp. It's called, blog the damn show before you go to bed. It'll be on my new blog , called TBD.

I'm looking through the OffBeat to find something to do because I work nite-side tomorrow, and I notice Johnny V. with Mike Dillon. I contact a couple of friends to see if they're aware, and head down to the show. I show at 10:40 for the 10:00 show to find I'm right on time, they're still setting up.

*Damn, I forgot to close my tab. I guess that happens when you're trying to forge a new blog.

The music speaks for itself, although I'll expound on some high point in a moment. Right now I want to get to new style, the TBD style. Less critique, more for my memory, and possibly your amusement.

Connections.

I'm sitting at the bar, having a pint with Brower, recently of Dirty Coast fame, and Bill the Chef appears. Bill just went through the Grand Opening of the new restaurant. Nagin was there. He gave them an award for contributing to rebuilding, more or less. Bill's doing great, I'm doing great, we chat, we turn to mingle.

I move out onto Frenchman and run into Jen, a close friend of an ex-girlfriend. Its been years since I've seen either in person. We chat, talk about where we've been, and thankfully Bill stumbles into view, giving me an excuse to move on. No offense to Jen, it was nice talking with you and I'm glad we can say, "what's up" when we bump into each other, but, we're acquaintances, do you expect more?

I talked with Nathan, a friend and co-worker of Bill's, who stayed through 'the storm.' He had a friend who was a hotel manger. He weathered Katrina in a crowd of a dozen or so in a posh hotel with a good stock of frozen gourmet and a propane stove, and got out of the city on the Thursday after the storm. I've met Nathan before, but I can't place it.

It bears mentioning, I suppose, that for the second set, two thirds of the band, the Vidacarage a Trois, are my myspace friends, Mike Dillon, who was on the bill (no cover, suckas) and Skerik, the secret special guest. "It's nice to see Skerik without all his crazy shit once in a while," I said to Brower, who provided the quote of the night, "we're so fucking spoiled in this city."

Yeah ya right.

to be continued... with the dirt on Angel, and more TBD goodness.

Changes

2006-04-18T19:02:00.000-07:00

I moved back to New Orleans.

Get ready for the revamp.

U.S.E.

2005-10-29T11:54:00.000-07:00

I would have loved to see the look on United State of Electronica's faces when they looked inside O'Leavers. I thank them for the patience with the house sound. It didn't sound great, but it sure sounded like a party... like Parliament on a Casio VL-Tone. The band has a couple dozen members, from what I could tell. It was difficult to discern, as the crowd/band lines began to blur, made hazy by the smoke machine. It was fun to see them in a packed, small venue, although I wonder what they would be like in the Underground with the lighted, 3-foot U S E letters high enough that you could see them. In O'Leavers it created a proportion-skewed Wonderland, where giants dance to the neverending kick in the swirl of the octopus light.

After the show I talked them out of the buttoned armband they had been using as a sort of merch display. I should have picked up the t-shirt that read: United State Of Electronica. But in real wing-dings, not the webdings.

Catching Up Haphazardly

2005-10-27T17:53:00.000-07:00

I was recently told to update my damn blog. Christian says to me, write about how you got into Built to Spill without a ticket, for the second time while I'm with you. Write about how you left before "My Guitar Gently Weeps." I will not write about those things.

It was a night for the old-timers. Those of us who still listen to vinyl regularly and have our living rooms built around our record collections. The band was very loud, turned past eleven but more like cranking up a pair of good headphones than the earsplitting auditory experience sometimes undergone in the Underground. Exhaustive rocking, that's why I didn't last to the end of this one. I was so tired the next day I passed out after work and slept through Sleater-Kinney. Bust on me.

In our next episode:

Engine Drivers, Chimbley Sweeps and Gigantic Bloodthirsty Aquatic Mammals, Oh My!

or

That Whale Scared Me So Much I Spilled My Beer on My Pants..

Absent

2005-10-02T13:45:00.000-07:00

Haven't been to many shows here lately, mostly because I saw a ton of them in Austin and I've been taking it easy.
ACL Fest Rundown on my other blog.

Photo set on Flickr.. small right now, but growing as they get developed.

Photo Update

2005-09-18T12:39:00.000-07:00

The Faint, first night:

Bella Lea:

Is there a video coming?

Maura's rockin it, yes she is rockin it.

Engine Down:

Screams from the abyss.

The drummer generated so much energy he began to glow white hot.

Weird War, How Could I Forget.

2005-08-24T17:19:00.000-07:00

July 28th, 2005

These cats can swing it. From the dramatic, nonsensical spoken word to start the experience the last leap onto the monitor, the energy was right up there the whole time. I brought a friend out who hasn't seen a show in forever but was a big fan of The Make Up, so it didn't take much arm twisting when I told him who Weird War really was. He loved it. I'd bet it was the best time he'd had in a while, and I felt the same way. It was one of those nights when you're in a crowd of a few dozen and something really special is happening. Weird War made me feel sad for the rest of the world, the people who missed the show.

Alex, you kung-fu pimp.
You singed my eyebrows.
Was it because you knew I was in love with Michelle Mae?

Michelle, coolest to ever stand stage right of the center pole at Sokol.

Ian, no words are necessary.
But thanks anyway for hanging out with us at the Ottobar that one time.

And Neil, you should keep those drums chained up.

Turned Green and Nearly Fainted

2005-08-22T18:16:00.000-07:00

That's what happened to my buddy the night we went to see The Faint.

August 15th, 2005

It started with a few pints and a hot grill with ham at La Buvette, then a pit stop at my apartment before heading down to Sokol. It was very hot. I was very hot to see the show, since I was on the ticket possessing side of a sold out night and after seeing them open for Bright Eyes at the Mid-America show, I was pretty sure they were going to become my favorite Omaha band.

I'll use my friend's comments to describe Ladyfinger, "I should just go home and listen to Black Flag." I told him to go then, but I was only halfway into Ladyfinger because as I said, it was hot, and I was feeling like I needed lots of beverage and the show was taking a back seat to me cooling down and getting accustomed to the evening. My buddy was feeling the heat too, and went off to grab some water. I run into him moments after the set and he's looking okay, a little sweaty, but not too bad. Then he sortof crumples over and we grab him and walk him over to the wall. He comes back about halfway, so he's more or less standing, but he's pretty pale, and he can't see. We find a place to sit for a bit, his eyesight returns and at this point we realize the middle act, Orenda Fink (she used to be half of Azure Ray) has come on and is playing "Do You Realize??"

Sorry Orenda, but we spent the majority of your set sitting in the gym and you were too quiet to hear where we were sitting. I'll see you again I'm sure, but my boy really needed the break. He bounced back after modifying the blood pressure with a trusty red bull.

The Faint.

Now THIS is a real rock show.

Multi-media extraordinaire with a deafening, vibrating soundsystem to pump the sweaty crowd full of jam. My general gripe about crowds in Omaha: gawkishness. Not tonight. Tonight is Dance Party Faintastic. Synthy wobbling nod fodder for the folks who can't get anything else moving. The visuals were tightly matched, constantly changing and hi-fi. Not only was the soundsystem more than sufficiently watted, the 4/4 kick literally hit you with wave after tangible soundwave, it was crisply balanced, so that I could hear the lyrics, most of the time. But everybody here has seen The Faint at some point or another, so I guess I should just drop it. Go see 'em if you haven't. If you like electro, find a disk, and even if you don't end up liking it, go see 'em live if you get the chance. The ladies seem to love 'em, and they have a bunch of songs about sex. Personally, they upstaged Bright Eyes, but maybe that's because they followed Mars Black.

I did brave the 140 degree sauna upstairs to snap a couple of photos of the setup, but they'll probably be crapola because of all the humidity rising up off the crowd. You'll see them here if they ain't.

Nice guys, that Neva Dinova

2005-08-22T18:07:00.000-07:00

August 13th, 2005

Omaha music fans come out for the local guys. Neva Dinova put money in the boy's pockets tonight. I wish I had written this up sooner, because I'm at a loss to say much about this one. It was the first time I had seen Neva Dinova live, but I knew was I was getting into and they exceeded expectations.

I also remember Mayday being enjoyable, but again, I gotta do this right away or else I can't think of anything interesting to say.

So I'm afraid to say that's it for this one, I promise to improve.

Morningwood

2005-08-08T17:45:00.000-07:00

I went to Sokol that night unsure of what I might see, as I often do. The middle band of three, Morningwood comes out like a comedian playing the really rocking part of the Top Gun Anthem. Titties was quite pneumatic, and quite enchanting, the band was very tight and I liked them, honestly I was feeling a slight bit blown away by the whole thing, or so I thought. Then they went into Take Off Your Clothes.

Titties goes into the crowd. I'm thinking.. these guys are going to try and pull somebody on stage as they mentioned in the banter earlier. She steps in front of me and sizes me up. I raise an eyebrow to accent my current smirk. The band drops into a riff and we're dancing. That's hot. I like sweat. I like dancing dirty. I like Titties. The encounter intesifies as my adrenal glands finally awaken from a state of disbelief. The band is ripping velcro and Titties really has the pneumatics oscillating as I hold her like a rocket just after zero, osmotic sweat facilitating our cominglance of muscle and flesh.

And then it was over. I shakily lit a cigarette. Yeah. That's exactly how it happened.

I met Titties after the set to give her a proper thanks and a kiss on the cheek. She also signed my record, the hard kind.. as she referred to them.

Check the band's site for photos of more Take Off Your Clothes antics, not by me, but elsewhere on the tour. Alas, it seems there was no photographer to document the Sokol show.