David Bazan should be taught in school. At least, I think I would have gotten more out of my high school education if it’d been something like “equal parts David Bazan and curriculum.”

I have wanted to write so much about David Bazan for a year now, and kept on putting it off because it’s hard to shoulder writing about something that means a lot to you. I just got back from his Living Room show in Allston, MA, and I’m still buzzing from the experience, so this seems like a good time.

Being a fan of music has really defined my lifestyle, and it was amazing to be in an environment with so many similar people. Most of my friends don’t really “get” going to show after show after show; most of the time I really do just buy two tickets to a show and try to find someone to go with (which is crazy because I go to so many good shows). And then to be put in a room full of people who totally get it! I just experienced a wonderful kind of renewal in excitement about experiencing music. Being into music, going to shows, and so on is just like any other hobby or thing you love—it can get tedious and at times feel like a chore. The same routine of printing out tickets and getting directions, driving, sitting around, waiting, getting tired, driving back, and so on. It’s a lot, especially if most of the shows you go to are a 1-3 hour commute away. Tonight reminded me that music is more than just the sum of its parts, and it’s these kinds of reminders that keep me living the life that I do.

I happened to be the first person (besides the hosts) to arrive at the show, so I got to spend about an hour hanging out before the rest of the crowd showed up. The hosts were absolutely wonderful people and fans, and not only provided a comfortable and welcoming environment, but bought pizza, cupcakes, soda, beer, and candy for everyone. One of the hosts in question is in fact the writer of Bradley’s Almanac, a Boston-based music blog that you should all peruse.

As soon as David Bazan walked to the front of the living room and took his guitar out, I felt this unbelievable drop in my stomach. He opened with “Strange Negotiations,” the title track from his upcoming release. It’s hard to mentally recap a song after only seeing and hearing it once, but the only thing “Strange Negotiations” and other new songs left to be desired was a copy of the record. I can’t remember every song, but he also played “Please Baby Please,” “Hard to Be,” “Cold Beer and Cigarettes,” and “Priests and Paramedics.” The entire night felt more like a running conversation between the audience and Bazan than a normal show. David paused after every few songs to kindly ask if there were any questions or concerns from anyone in the audience.

It’s faster to buy cigarettes and some cold beer
If you don’t rattle the cashier
By asking her back to your room
She’s calling security

The show went by so quickly that when David announced that there were only a few more songs left I thought it was crazy that it was ending so early. I had a few moments of nervousness because I wanted very badly to hear “Bearing Witness” but was scared of being denied a request (and I felt hesitant to be the only audience member to ask for a request) but I also knew that I would have felt terrible if I didn’t request it and he never played it. I think he’d just finished playing “Please Baby Please,” which ended up being the penultimate song, when I shyly raised my hand and asked, “Would you consider a request?” He politely said that yes, he would, and I asked for “Bearing Witness.”

When he agreed to the request, I experienced a kind of emotional rush that I often associate with music, but don’t experience very frequently because it is so intense. I think a lot about how our reactions seem often like memories of reactions; when I hear of a tragedy, I immediately relate and sympathize, but I don’t constantly feel that pain. Sometimes I feel it and sometimes I just know that it’s there. Last night I really felt it. I actually had to work really hard to stop myself from crying during “Bearing Witness,” which ended up being the last song of the night.

As soon as the set ended, I clumsily told David that I’ve extracted more valuable wisdom just from “Bearing Witness” than I have from anything else for months, if not years. And it’s just true. If I was ever the kind of person to get a verse tattooed on my body somewhere, it would probably be this one,

Though it may alienate your family
and blur the lines of your identity
Let go of what you know and honor what exists
Son, that’s what bearing witness is
Daughter, that’s what bearing witness is

More specifically, I would get Let go of what you know and honor what exists but I think it’s nice to read it in context of the verse. This one line really has been my mantra for a long time. Whenever I have been angry or confused, or felt lost or hopeless, I’ve repeated this piece of advice to myself, and I’ve usually been able to come back to a place of clarity and peace. I’m reminded of a Jewish spirituality book that I like to read, in which the author discusses forgiveness. Forgiveness is none of the following: acceptance, denial, revenge. It’s just letting go.

Whether it’s religion or our “heteronormative society” or our other terrible societies it’s crazy to think of how many presumptions we all have. However enlightened and positive I feel I am, I feel that every day when I get dressed in the morning, I also put on and carry around so many convictions about how I’m positive the world should be. And I let it get in the way of living. I probably wouldn’t be able to count the number of times each day I let my convictions, “what I know,” disrupt what would be a more congruent lifestyle; but my fingers are so tightly molded around the things I’m sure of that I don’t have the strength to open my fists and let go. And that’s what this song is to me. I can’t express enough gratitude toward David Bazan for writing this song, and for taking my request last night, especially when he was only going to play one more song.

Throughout the night there was a lot of interesting dialogue between David and the audience. I resonate really deeply with David Bazan’s attitude toward the music industry. I want to spend my money on his concerts and merchandise because it feels so sincere, because I can see what I’m supporting and not doubt that it’s something I believe in. The host asked about the short length of time it took David to record Strange Negotiations, and also about the short gap between the announcement and release of the record. David replied that much of the motivation for the small amount of time between the announcement and release is making sure the fans, and the people who are really supporting the music, are a priority. He brought up such a good point: why should a handful of elite music journalists get to listen to the record months before the fans, the people who really care about and are supporting the music? (I’m not implying that these groups are mutually exclusive, but am broadly summarizing a scenario.) You might recall David Bazan asking for donations (or rather, investments) a la I Helped Bazan Make a Record last fall—and I agree with the man, the people who care so much they’ll give an artist an advance on his record are the people who are going to bring more fans in than any kind of publicity stunt.

David’s set made me feel extremely excited for the release of Strange Negotiations next month, and for his full-band tour this summer. But even so, and even though it’s been a while, I’m still beyond excited about Curse Your Branches.

One of the anecdotes that I recalled from the night was David discussing his views toward “bad people” and how they relate to reality. He said that he used to sort of shrug off others’ flaws under a blanket, “we’re all bad,” kind of logic. But then, he said, he realized, you know what? That’s just not accurate. For example, George W. Bush is directly responsible for the deaths of countless innocent people. And he, David Bazan, just isn’t. One of my first reactions is YES. I’m reminded of the paradox that arises when faced with others who believe, as Bazan might say, crazy batshit things. But there’s some kind of line between tolerating all viewpoints and giving people freedom to express themselves and between tolerating intolerance. And these are the lines between what we know and what exists, and the tricky bit is how difficult it is to locate exactly where these lines are.

I think everyone in America should own a copy of Curse Your Branches. I’ve been deeply hurt and have lost a lot to the ignorance and evil and fear that manifests itself as evangelical, fundamentalist Christianity. And for me there are days when this album, and David Bazan’s story, are the only things that can break through that and remind me that there’s a real world out there, too.

So if it starts to get you down
Just pretend
That you don’t make your living
From selling advertising
Tracking trends, corralling demographics,
And maximizing traffic

I once attended a gathering of Seventh-Day Adventists, and heard a sermon in which the speaker asked everyone in the audience to pray for a “gain” of at least 6,000 more souls that year. (Note: I’m not trying to single out SDA, I am simply including the detail.) And it’s just like…damn. I remember glancing around the audience to see many people nodding along with the figure, and I had to wonder if there was some kind of reward program for whoever brought in the most souls.

“Bearing Witness” is such a meaningful song to me because there is both so much good and so much evil contained in the very idea of bearing witness. I grew up in a somewhat Jewish, somewhat secular environment, and was never exposed to the idea of bearing witness until late in high school. I’m guessing that as popular as the concept is, there are still tons of people like me who never heard of it. I think this kind of thing is the worst of it: if you’re a Christian, when you meet another person, you should feel responsible to bear witness about the good news of Jesus Christ to that person, and if you don’t, and that person never knows Jesus, their unsaved soul is on your shoulders because “you might be the only Christian they ever meet.” This concept was entirely flabbergasting to me because I had never understood religion as a place which contained so much guilt.

What I think is difficult is the idea of bearing witness isn’t altogether evil; in fact, I think I am always striving to do a better job of “bearing witness” to the things I believe in. But doing it right is much deeper than trying to convince someone else that they need to start thinking the way you do about things. I feel an innate responsibility to do justice and live up to what I love, the things and the people in my life, because my idea is that if I am as filled with joy as I claim to be by these things, it’s my responsibility to do something with it that will help another person in a meaningful way. And that is what bearing witness can be.

If we rounded up people in 2011 to brand as modern day “prophets,” I would nominate David Bazan, because the world would be a better place if more people took in the messages and lessons in his music, and I say this whether these people are Christians “caught up in their own false image of God” (Martin Buber) or the opposite or anywhere in between. He has some of the best and clearest writing in music today, and one of the most organic and sincere business models in the industry.

David Bazan is embarking on a rather thorough US Summer Tour this June, and I think you’d all be crazy not to come out. Here are the dates:

06/01 Wed – Salt Lake City UT – Kilby Court
06/02 Thu – Denver CO – Hi Dive
06/03 Fri – Kansas City MO – Record Bar
06/04 Sat – Council Bluffs IA – Westfair Amphitheater – w/ Bright Eyes
06/06 Mon – St Paul MN – Turf Club
06/08 Wed – Chicago IL – Lincoln Hall
06/10 Fri – St Louis MO – Old Rock House
06/11 Sat – Columbus OH – The Basement
06/12 Sun – Akron OH – Musica
06/13 Mon – Pontiac MI – Pike Room
06/14 Tue – Toronto ON – Lee’s Palace
06/15 Wed – Ottawa ON – Maverick’s
06/17 Fri – Ithaca NY – The Haunt
06/18 Sat – Hamden CT – The Space
06/19 Sun – Cambridge MA – TT the Bears
06/22 Wed – New York NY – Bowery Ballroom
06/23 Thu – Philadelphia PA – Johnny Brenda’s
06/24 Fri – Washington DC – Black Cat
06/25 Sat – Chapel Hill NC – Local 506 – w/ Centro-matic
06/27 Mon – Orlando FL – The Social
06/28 Tue – Atlanta GA – The Earl
06/29 Wed – Birmingham AL – The Bottletree
06/30 Thu – New Orleans LA – One Eyed Jacks
07/01 Fri – Baton Rouge LA – Spanish Moon
07/02 Sat – Houston TX – Fitzgerald’s
07/03 Sun – Denton TX – Dan’s Silverleaf
07/05 Tue – Austin TX – ACL Satellite Sets
07/07 Thu – Phoenix AZ – Sail Inn
07/08 Fri – San Diego CA – Casbah
07/09 Sat – Long Beach CA – Alex’s Bar
07/10 Sun – Los Angeles CA – Troubadour
07/12 Tue – Visalia CA – Cellar Door
07/13 Wed – San Francisco CA – The Independent
07/15 Fri – Portland OR – Mississippi Studios
–
David Bazan Website
David Bazan Facebook
David Bazan Twitter
David Bazan Last.fm

Those who have been fortunate to catch Kevin on the road this past winter will likely be familiar with this song. I am lucky to have seen it performed a few times, once during a soundcheck at The Space in Hamden, CT, which was just as lulling as the delivery on the new Nervous Engines video.

I am pretty instantly sold by “Between the Concrete and Clouds” because it features a variety of some of my favorite songwriting techniques: a time-line/parallelism, forward puns (Casper, you holy ghost), and an “evolving chorus” (I just made that term up). When I view this song in the context of some of KD’s earlier material, it gets my heart a little. Something that I have noticed in a lot of seasoned songwriters’ catalogs is this kind of transition that occurs in perspectives of their narratives. If you listen to earlier Kevin Devine, stuff like “Noose Dressed Like a Necklace” or “Me and My Friends,” it feels more confessional, it feels like the speaker is asking for guidance more than providing it—at least directly. With “Between the Concrete and Clouds,” I really hear Kevin Devine making the shift to the other side of the things. He’s still asking questions, but there’s something more seasoned about it than a lot of the material he’s put out before. I always find Kevin Devine songs inspiring, but here I feel like the inspiration is coming from something more separate from myself, from a place I haven’t seen yet, when quite often I find inspiration in being assured that someone else feels like this too so it must be okay somehow—stuff that comes from places I’ve been to before.

God in the wood, the words, the coffee pot
It wasn’t adding up
At war with yourself, afraid of everyone
You said, “Enough’s enough.”

The writing is also more structured than a lot of Devine’s other songs. He performs the chorus something like four times and without counting, I’d say most KD songs don’t even have one chorus. Kevin has indicated that this album is more compact (I am taking liberty with this wording) than his previous releases, and I can already hear that on this song. Without looking (read: listening) I’m also trying to recall some landmark KD tracks that are in minor keys, and I can’t think of a ton. I think it’s often harder to make the minor work (because the major works so well) and it’s not a surprise that Kevin is able to nail it (what helps make it work is a lot of interesting chord choices that are not in the key, and the chorus uses typical major chords, and the contrast makes both the chorus and the verses feel fresher).

Now every single time that you open your mouth
Give yourself a breath while you’re working it out
The answer’s in between all the concrete and clouds
It’s anywhere you want
Yeah, it’s next to you now

Each derivation of the chorus becomes a little more hopeful, and at the end the approach is pedagogical, and I’m inspired because someone who I know has been in my shoes, or near them, at least, is telling me I can take a breath.

“Luxembourg” more closely follows KD’s stylistic norm: lyrics that could be poetry and verse after verse after verse, but somehow just as captivating as a song with more than one chord progression.

I have weaknesses like all my brothers do
An objectifying eye and hands that follow suit
Some ugly allergy to the true love on my plate
Wrong wiring, connections I can’t make

I feel like there’s more packed into every verse of this song than there is on most records; the lyrical craft in this song is simply phenomenal. I’ve personally found that it is a struggle to experience as opposed to collect experience. To me, the speaker of this song is someone who’s become too caught up in the collecting; stocking life’s staples, things like love, up on a shelf or mantle to display because we know they’re supposed to be important somehow.

She seemed satisfied in the corner of the frame
Until she turned to me, said “I need to walk away
Speak no argument, you’re nowhere close to sure;
I’m sorry, but, I don’t have time for sorry anymore.”

Objectification remains a theme throughout the whole song. It’s always interesting to note how artists use similar images in different ways; I’m reminded of another Devine song with a reference to a picture: We could be a snapshot, framed and hung like a portrait / What if that’s true and I’m the only one who knows it? from “Tap Dance.” I guess I’ll go even more poetry on you guys—like the picture he covets, the speaker too is frozen in his life, unable to really move with the love that is moving on.

I felt I was in debt
Each night spent in your bed
A dream I let drop dead
And never had again

Almost immediately “11.17.10″ reminds me of Brand New, something in the way of the demos for “Sowing Season.” I think it’s the power chords at the beginning, and the way this track builds from the muffled guitar and whisper to the full chords and exclamations. Out of the three, this is the one I’m most excited to hear (and see) the full-band version of. And structurally, this falls somewhere in between the first two; the running verses like in “Luxembourg,” but (based on these performances) there’s a greater dynamic range and so a lot more contrast throughout this song.

Sour grapes when the joke goes bad
Same smirk, same bullshit laugh
It’s the egg on my face when I can’t go back
I didn’t plan for that

This last verse contains some of my favorite imagery in the song. That might be because when I read into it literally I really relate; I’m frequently facing that empty silence of going too far when I really didn’t mean to and not knowing how to take it back. Also, it’s because this is just good writing.

So I think whatever he planned for, everyone who’s paying attention is more than excited for Kevin Devine’s sixth full-length release.

What can you do now? While you’re waiting, you should order Part of the Whole and Luxembourg while you still can. AND GO TO THE SHOWS.

libraries are the best

It’s been a long time since I’ve been so quickly captured by new music. It’s also been a long time since I’ve wanted to describe something as ‘ohmygodyes’ or ‘INEEDTHISNOW’ but the debut album from Hannah & Maggie starts all those clocks over again.

It isn’t hard to throw around a bunch of descriptors: acoustic, folk, songwritey, harmony, melodic, beautiful, so on and so on. Fine Being Here is all of those. It’s packed with friendly hammer-ons and chords in the C position, walking bass lines, brushed snare hits, and some of the best harmony that I’m sure many of us have heard in a long time. But what makes this record something that I want to listen to on repeat (for hours) is something even less tangible: chemistry. And if I had to pick one word to describe this music, it would be inviting. The harmony and guitars sound improvised but not messy; everything feels natural. When I’m listening, I can easily imagine another voice here or another small melody there, but not because the music is empty, because it’s so welcoming. Like being assured that there is more than enough to go around when you’re not sure if you’re a burden in a situation.

The record clocks in at a short 35 minutes and stays strong the whole way through. It’s hard for me to know which tracks to discuss because they are all so strong. When a song really puts me in a daze, I like to pull up the lyrics and listen and read along and then make about 20 facebook statuses and like, sign into AIM and put it on my away message via high school, and I want to do that with all of these songs. You know? Some records make you really want to violate that one-track-per-artist rule (is that a rule?) for mixes. You know?

In a world where it seems like everyone is constantly focusing on getting to “that next step” (like college, and probably after college) it’s refreshing to hear the title track, “Fine Being Here.” The chorus goes,

Seems like everyone’s waiting for something better to start
But we’re fine being here, yeah we’re happy right where we are
If it was up to me I don’t think I’d ever move on
But it’s out of our hands so let’s try our best to hold on

and a lot of the writing on the CD is like this. If you single out any line, it feels sort of like a cliche–abstract writing without a lot of images. But doing that doesn’t give you the right picture. There’s such a flow to this writing and singing that I can imagine each line tumbling naturally in place after the next, and suddenly I stop thinking of the writing as “a little colloquial” and start thinking of the verses as a lot like home. And that’s what this record is. It’s a place you can come to when you’re not quite sure how things are going to turn out and rest your head and hear a voice that tells you that whatever’s going on, it can be okay.

“The Land & The Sea” shifts away from the kind of language in “Fine Being Here” and it might be my favorite on the CD. They mention whiskey, wine, and Rome…ALL IN ONE SONG. “She’s in my blood and in my bones / She feels brand new and just like home” is haunting and stands out as one of the best couplets on the album. The spirit of the song is overall hopeful and in the heart of being fine being here, but it’s got a heartbreaking melancholy to it that just sort of makes you stare off into space for minutes, trying to figure out how something can be so heartbreaking and joyful all at the same time. A lot of the songs on this album will probably break your heart, but it’s pretty hard to love something and not let it break your heart a little bit.

And although we may find that these miles are unkind
There are roads left to Rome and we will take our sweet, sweet time
Sticking pins in the map, drinking whiskey, drinking wine
If you stay with me I will make it worth your time

Before I go into an uncontrolled spree (as I like to do) and write four paragraphs about every song, I want to mention “Not the One” and “Lessons in Gravity.” The first is an account of what it feels like to lose yourself in a relationship, seeing things unravel when they’re still sort of raveled and not knowing how to stop it, and not knowing if that’s okay. And “Lessons in Gravity” is just so gorgeous. Plus, I love any song that mentions laundry. Another thing I love about this album is the smooth transitions between verses and choruses. Sometimes it’s nice not to have an epically huge dynamic change between the two; letting them just flow together allows for the music to really breathe.

And I wear my hair short now
but I still sing the songs I wrote with a ponytail
to prove that I know how

The album ends with the abrupt, under-two-minutes “Syncopate, Syncopate” where both sing, “And I think we’re gonna make it after all,” and yes, I think they are, too. So you guys, get this record. Everyone. I’ve listened to Fine Being Here about twenty times in the past week, and I don’t want to be the only one.

Hannah & Maggie Website
Hannah & Maggie Facebook
Hannah & Maggie YouTube
Hannah & Maggie MySpace
Hannah & Maggie Last.FM
Hannah & Maggie Tumblah
…you can pretty much find them everywhere.

Nope.

It’s The Sun Parade.

The self-titled debut kicks off with the current single, “Need You By My Side,” and it’s a perfect folk-pop tune if there ever was one. Over a lively rhythmic pulse of drums and acoustic guitar, Chris Jennings sings, Could you please be my constant / ‘Cause I have fifteen thoughts at a time and whether it’s a nod to LOST or algebra or both (or neither), it’s guaranteed to get stuck in your head for days at a time.

“Waiting for Life to Drastically Change” has the jangly kind of rhythm to it that makes songs like Jason Mraz’s “I’m Yours” so memorable, and it’s the kind of tune you can imagine yourself rocking back and forth to, maybe off on a boat somewhere. “Leaving the Nation” introduces some pretty prominent electric guitar, and is about as punky as this EP gets. He even starts out by singing about pretty girls. And of course I love it, because I love anything that’s pumped up enough to make me feel like I’m part of some kind of revolution or mass rebellion, without actually having to leave my bedroom.

The EP slows down with the apreggiated ballad, “Nobody’s Gonna Love You.” This track is an excellent showcase of Jennings’s vocal abilities. It’s darker, more stripped down, more minor-y than the tracks before and it works especially well placed after the charged “Leaving the Nation.” I think the simple pairing of the vocals and guitar are especially effective here; it’s wonderful to be able to really listen to how the support works, back and forth, between both instruments.

“Talking to Myself,” the penultimate track, pops back in with group harmony, and it’s carried by a crunchy combination of piano and electric guitar. Like the other tracks on the EP, this song offers something from the Parade we haven’t seen before, but doesn’t stray far enough from the spirit and core of the music to make it feel out of place.

The EP is closes out with “No Expectations,” the longest track, clocking in at 6:52. “No Expectations” builds like no other song on the EP does, and it’s as if it’s included to make sure that as skilled as these guys are at crafting quick, catchy, and lovely folk-pop songs, they’ve also got more things on their minds. The electric guitar in this track has a sonic quality, that meshes well with the hits of the acoustic guitar, and Jennings explores the higher end of his range at greater length than before. There’s a quiet (and wonderful) explosion into group vocals and guitars before the song fades out again the EP comes to a finish.

Overall, The Sun Parade is a charming, friendly debut from a band that I’m sure many people are eager to hear more of. To me, it’s refreshing to hear some new music that keeps songwriting so closely at its heart. The songs are thoroughly explored, but not overdone, and that’s important. It’d be nice to have a full-length from these guys, but at least with an EP, you can circle back around to track one before you know it.

The Sun Parade is local to Northampton, Massachusetts (crazy, so am I!) and you can find them here:
The Sun Parade Facebook
The Sun Parade MySpace
The Sun Parade Website/BandCamp

I’ve been looking forward to this album so much that I waited a week and a half after its release to listen to it. Steven Page has been my favorite songwriter for over a decade, and his departure from Barenaked Ladies shook my world two Februaries ago. Steve’s music was the cornerstone of my growing up, and when he left the band, it was tough for me to have one of the biggest constants in my life reckoned with. But the guys have moved on, and so has Steve, and maybe with the help of this album, so can I.

The album kicks off with the energetic “A New Shore.” I hope there’s a real kick in there somewhere, because I can picture Steve doing that on stage during this song. He doesn’t waste any time getting started here—I hear Steve singing before iTunes even registers that the second is a song over, and we’re into the first chorus less than twenty seconds in. Every review that goes into enough depth comments on how “A New Shore” is directly about Page’s new career as a solo artist. That’s taking it pretty literally, and it’s also probably not a bad way to think about it, but the great thing about this track is that it can apply to all of us.

When I first saw “Entourage” was going to be on this album, a part of me wondered why, because it’s such an old song, and there’s already an official recording of it on Lilac6, though Steve doesn’t sing lead on it. The way it’s redone on this album is a little shocking if you’re familiar with the Duffy version. This is the track on the album where the jazzy vibe works best. I think this is the song on the album that best answers the question, “Why is Steve wearing a suit in all the artwork?”

“All The Young Monogamists” is Page’s greatest accomplishment on this album; I see this song as the clear showcase of Page One. I distinctly remember hearing Steve debut this song during one of the songwriter’s panels on Ships & Dip V, and it stuck with me even though I usually don’t remember songs I’ve heard only once. Over the past decades, Page has carved himself a unique lyrical niche, and the qualities of that are really evident in this song—that he can insert the word monogamists into his lyrical vocabulary and have it sound natural is a victory in and of itself. Between Page’s deep and smooth vocal delivery, the strings, and the lack of percussion, this track sounds like it could have come off of The Magnetic Fields’ i; recall the opening track, “I Die,” and I think you’ll see what I mean.

“All The Young Monogamists” is a love song that boldly exposes the inadequacies of what a love song is usually about: a romanticization of something that will surely pass—people telling lies, “they can feel inside of them that this is not enough.” But because Page says a lot more than, “I love you,” in this song, his profession of love is honest and something that I, as a listener of this story, actually believe. The speaker and his addressee, both having been “around the block,” know what disaster might be in store if they commit to each other, and their commitment, despite their histories, speaks with greater trust, faith, and love than if they’d both been perfect lovers in the past. One of my favorite images comes in the middle of the song, when Page sings, “and some of them will sleep around, just like you and me.” “Sleep around” is such a common phrase in regular conversation, and it’s as crude as I think I’ve heard Page write, but then maybe that’s the point, that love can be crude, and the crudeness doesn’t stop it from being love.

My biggest complaint is that all the variation in style results in some disconnect on the record. The shift from “Monogamists” to the upbeat “She’s Trying to Save Me” feels okay, and the return to prominent acoustic guitars is natural in “Over Joy.” But after that song, we’re thrown from the 80′s feeling “If You Love Me,” to the show-tune “Leave Her Alone” (the first time I’ve heard Steve swear in a song) and the beat-driven “Queen of America” before we land in what feels like home, the album’s closer “The Chorus Girl.” All these songs are great on their own, and the diversity is refreshing, but it’s definitely a roller coaster. I find my home in the more introspective, acoustic guitar based tracks, but I also feel happier than anything to hear Steve having such fun singing an upbeat track like “Leave Her Alone.”

“Over Joy” is another highlight on this CD. It’s not much different from the demo Steve released on his Myspace a few years back, but it didn’t need to be. The guitar on this track is so rhythmically present that I had to turn the volume up to check that there were actually drums; the drums seem to follow the guitar on this track, and not the other way around. Whether you’re a lonely high school kid, like I was when I first heard “Over Joy,” or past that point, this song will speak to you that you’re not alone, that you haven’t been alone even when it’s seemed like it.

I’ve been familiar with Steven Page as a writer and a musician for years, and when I found out he’d be making solo records, I never thought that he had anything to prove. I think if there’s anything any of us need to prove, it’s us fans who were so devoted to BNL getting over the split—at least that’s what is true for me. Pick up Page One guys. It’s an amazing record from an amazing man, and you won’t regret it.

I was scared and annoyed at myself for feeling tired, because I really didn’t want to not enjoy the show because I was grouchy and needed a nap. There was something about the entire night that kept me in a good, energetic mood, and I’m sure it was a combination of everything: the people I was with, the venue, and all the band members.

I deeply enjoyed Hardello even though the sound was muffled and it was just a guy singing with an electric guitar. There was something about his singing that just felt honest, however vague that description sounds. And Gobotron was just fun. They seemed like they could have played together forever if they weren’t just opening.

Do any of you guys know The Odds? I’m gonna admit that Robert McDowell and Murray Atkinson (second from the left, obviously) are probably different people, but I’m just gonna include this picture anyway:

Canadian band The Odds: Pat Steward, Murray Atkinson, Craig Northey, Doug Elliott

And here’s a photo I found on the Bad Books website:

Notice how Robert McDowell is second to left in this shot, too. Just throwing that out there.

Before Bad Books, Andy Hull came out and performed songs from Right Away Great Captain! I think in between his songs, he covered “Foregone Conclusions” by Pedro the Lion, which I really loved hearing. After the show Andy admitted to me that he feels slightly unsure of his Captain material, and I was really flattered to hear him say that he thought I was really enjoying it (I stood directly in front of him for the entire night) and that that thought gave him inspiration to continue the set. Whether I really gave him any inspiration or not, it’s true that I really did enjoy his material. I’m not very familiar with RAGC (is that an accepted acronym?) and I want to say that his set was a “pleasant surprise,” but I think “pleasant” is very obviously not the right word. Andy’s set felt like having just walked into a heated building in the middle of winter, all bundled up, that suffocating feeling, and then having someone open the window. Stark and harshly refreshing, but still unsettling in some way. That’s just what songs do to you sometimes.

Kevin and Andy suited up.

The concert moved on at a pretty steady pace, partly due to the fact that they didn’t have to change drumsets or equipment at all. Bad Books hit the stage around 11:30, Kevin and Andy both donning handsome suits. The setlist reads:

Highway of death
Baby Shoes
Holding down the laughter
How this all ends
you wouldn’t have
the plan
Please move
Mesa, AZ
Begged
TX
———
Easy Mark & Old Maid
Just Stay
Now that you’re home
Cotton Crush
-Mirror-

And it’s printed on the back of what looks like some kind of mewithoutYou merchandise sheet, in case anyone is wondering.

“Highway of death” isn’t an actual song, for people who aren’t familiar with the current jokes of the set. They opened with “Baby Shoes.” Looking at the list now, it looks like a short set, but it didn’t feel short. The show also didn’t drag. It was full to the brim of moments; when I’ve tried to recount the show to my friends so far, I’ve found that I’m able to talk for over an hour about everything that happened.

During the opening acts, there were some sound problems (guitars too loud, vocals too soft), but they were worked out by the time Bad Books took the stage. The performance was stellar, but you can hear that just as well on the album. We know they’re all good musicians already. What I loved most was how the band interacted and supported each other on stage. There was more harmony last night than I’ve heard at Manchester and Kevin shows I’ve attended, and I think harmony is the most intimate of all musical interactions.

Several times, it seemed like they were never going to get around to starting the next song because they were too caught up in banter and jamming. Before “Mesa,” Kevin was chatting and guitarist Robert McDowell cut it off and sang the first line, in a really charming manner of friendly teasing. In between everything, we got to hear “Thanklin Franklin,” Kevin play the first few lines of Sugar Ray’s “Every Morning,” and Andy Hull do his song about 50 cent.

Throughout the whole set, everyone was talking to each other, jamming, making up songs. There was this open, friendly, laid-back atmosphere that I haven’t seen in many bands. I’ve seen it in Barenaked Ladies for years—they’re very well known for improvising raps at every show and things—but a lot of bands don’t let themselves loosen up as much on stage. Being too stiff and serious on stage is an unfortunate place a lot of performers fall into, but not Bad Books. And that extra interaction is what, more than a good performance, makes everyone remember the night. I felt like the Bad Books concert was an experience we were all having together—band and audience. I want to tell my friends Andy said this and Kevin said that and then Chris Freeman made this joke and some guy in the audience…and so on and so on.

One of my favorite moments was the last song of the main set, Hull’s ballad “Texas.” The construction of the show was so perfectly orchestrated that by the time this song was up, I didn’t even realize that half the band had left. Hull performed “Texas” with a guitar, KD on drums and backing vocals, and Chris Freeman doing some singing as well. This was such a beautiful performance because, to me, it so perfectly encapsulated what the foundation of Bad Books is: the partnership between Kevin and Andy, and the support that exists from each one to the other.

Kevin on the drums. I am sorry for my blurry pictures guys!

When Kevin was going over the drums, he paused and made a try bringing his microphone over, but decided against it because he didn’t want to interrupt what was going on, and just sat at the kit, and sang anyway. The tech, Nate I think, wasn’t sure what Kevin was looking for and had trouble getting eye contact with him. I think I caused some confusion in the front row because I kept on silently motioning to Nate, “Kevin wants the microphone,” and no one could figure out why I was waving my arms and mouthing words during Andy’s quiet intro. But the tech figured it out, and at first Kevin shrugged about it, not wanting to risk any disruption or inconvenience I think, but he got the mic anyway. And I was very glad for it. We knew it wasn’t really the end, but it was such a meaningful way for the band to say goodbye, if even for a few moments.

Toward the end of the set, Andy had leaned down to give me a guitar pick and it fell on the ground because I didn’t notice what he was doing. I become super enthused and excited and said, “It’s okay, it’s okay!” And Andy replied, “No no, I’ll get you another one!” He did, and then he thanked me for enjoying the show so much and said he would give me a setlist. I’ve had a lot of opportunities to snag setlists from crew members after concerts, but I don’t think I ever take them because I figure that if I was going to collect setlists, I would’ve already started. There’s some flawed logic, maybe courtesy of my in-progress math major. But a band-member personally offering to give me the setlist during the show? That’s something that hasn’t happened to me before, and I was honestly on cloud nine for the rest of the show, and I’ll keep this setlist safe forever. Right after they left the stage, Andy tore up the setlist, handed it to me, and we thanked each other.

Then they all came back. Sandwiched in the encore were two Kevin songs and one Manchester tune. I think this is the time during the show when the crowd was most united. Before that it was like we all ran into each other at a grocery store and had a great conversation, but knew we had met before somewhere and couldn’t yet remember where. And then during “Just Stay,” we figured it out, oh oh, I know all you guys because we have all been touched by Kevin’s music, Manchester Orchestra’s, both, and we are all here coming together to support and enjoy their new, joint endeavor. “Now That You’re Home” and “Cotton Crush” had so much energy that part of me hopes there’s a huge joint tour sometime where the six perform an array of KD, MO, and BB songs as one band.

There was so much banter before “You’re a Mirror I Can’t Avoid” that I thought they were gonna maybe cut the song from the show due to time restrictions. But we got it. It really is something to see Kevin bounce from rapping (man can rap) to singing this acoustic track, where every lyric is so carefully thought out, but he does the transition well.

After the show, I was lucky to talk with both Andy and Kevin (though at separate times). Andy told me that the next Manchester record features 10 “really heavy” songs, and that it’s a concept record, where he’s pleading both with God and his wife but he’s not always sure which one. Kevin says he’s got about six songs floating around for his new release, but he still doesn’t know exactly where any of them are going to go. And neither know exactly what’s coming next as far as touring goes, but Hull is definitely sure there will be more Bad Books records, and Kevin too feels confident that we’ll hear from them again, somehow, in some way. I know whatever happens, I’ll be happy to be there.

We ended up not leaving the venue until almost 2:30 am. Earlier in the night, we had mistakenly put “Brookline Ave” and not “Brookline Street” into the GPS, and parked our car in a parking garage. I’m not really sure why, since I knew we weren’t at the right place. Wanting to accept things in a group dynamic, I guess. We assumed our car was going to get locked in since the garage had said it would close an hour after the show at House of Blues…which I’m sure was earlier than 2 in the morning. Walking out of the venue, my friend Derek mentioned that we still had to figure out our situation of getting home, and Kevin and his brother said, “Your…situation??” We explained, and it reminded me of something similar that happened to my friend Rachel and me and I said, “Well, I locked myself inside of a mountain once.” Kevin said, “You WHAT?” Then I explained that we’d been hiking past dark and the gates of the parking lot were locked at sunset, and the consensus after that was, “Oh, that’s more reasonable.” The conclusion here is that it’s less reasonable to get locked inside of a mountain than a parking lot, I think. We ended up not getting locked in at all, but I think we cut it pretty close, ’cause the attendant near chased us out of the lot when we got back.

Also guys, I gave Kevin a couple of my shirts in Brooklyn and he says that he likes them, so if you ever spot him wearing one, send me a picture. And feel free to get one yourself (um, if you want).

After a long night of openers, Kevin finally hit the stage around 10:45. God this is so late for me! The night before the show, I tried to stay up late to practice for the drive back from Brooklyn, and I was dead at 11:30. The GDB gave me the rush of adrenaline I needed to stay awake through the set.

I was lucky enough to stand _right in front of Brian Bonz_ for the entire night. The set was great, and overall the show was great too, but I think there were a couple kinks in the sound that could have been better. The lead guitar was just too loud last night. It felt like the lead guitar was louder than the rest of everyone combined. I think there was one song where no one really played it (“You’ll Only End Up Joining Them”) and the sound was much more solid.

I know I sound like I’m being picky, but I think it’s really important for bands to have good sound live. And the way the sound was last night, I can imagine that if I didn’t know any of Kevin’s songs already, I wouldn’t have been able to really hear them. If something is off in the sound, it can stop the real spirit of the music from coming through in the performance. Since I knew all the songs, I could still hear what was going on, and it was still amazing, but just being brutally honest, I experienced a small amount of dread every time the songs got to the big parts because it was just a little overwhelming.

Big kudos to the Goddamn Band for selecting a great setlist. I’ve oft been in situations where I’ve been able to read the setlist from where I was in the audience, and this happened last night. Sometimes I do well choosing not to read the set, and sometimes I pick to read it. Last night I read the set before the show (too much excitement? too much anticipation after so much waiting?) so none of the songs were a surprise to me.

Setlist
Trouble
You’re My Incentive
Carnival
Another Bag of Bones
You’ll Only End Up Joining Them
The Shift Change Splits the Streets
Big Bad Man
Fever Moon
Murphy’s Song
Noose Dressed Like a Necklace
Hand of God
Just Stay
Burning City Smoking
Yr Husband
I Could Be With Anyone
Cotton Crush
Ballgame
She Stayed As Steam

Encore
You Are The Daybreak
Whistling Dixie
Brother’s Blood

For me, highlights included “You’ll Only End Up Joining Them,” “The Shift Change Splits the Streets,” “Big Bad Man,” and “Burning City Smoking.” Unless I have the wrong version or I’m hallucinating, I think “Burning City Smoking” was performed a half-step higher than it’s recorded; the recording is in Bb, and I remember Kevin having a capo on 2, meaning he was playing in B. Unless his guitar is tuned down a half step! I didn’t think about this deeply enough during the set to conclude for sure. There really are a lot of options here. I took note of this because I like to play this song with a capo on 3, using different chord shapes.

To me, “Shift Change” is a song that doesn’t particularly stand out on the album, but last night’s performance made it really stick out for me. I wish I had a recording of it I could refer back to right now, but Kevin delivered an especially smooth vocal performance here and the dynamics were pretty spot-on. My favorite unexpected part of the night was Brian Bonz’s harmonies. The only improvement Bonz’s vocals could use is more of them. Also mad props to Bonz for beat-boxing the intro to “I Could Be With Anyone.”

“Ballgame” was performed in a more built-up, ambient style than the acoustic arrangement I think most of us are used to, and Kevin brought on a trumpet player for a chunk of songs in the middle, which was a great addition. If you’re going to do a full-band show, do a full-band show, and that’s what we got last night. I think “Fever Moon” benefited the most from the brass. There’s something so mystifying about that song; when it’s playing, I’m not always sure that I want to be listening, but I can never, ever shut it off before it ends.

I feel a lot of resonance with the choice to end the night with “Brother’s Blood.” I can’t help but feel extremely happy for Kevin right now, and that’s why it was so important to me to be at the show last night. There are so many things about last night’s show that made it special and that no one there will ever be able to forget: a hometown show not only in the city, but in Brooklyn; the first headlining show in 18 months; part of CMJ; the last show in support of Brother’s Blood; his last show in New York this year; the day of the official Bad Books release… Wow. Brother’s Blood has been such an important record to me, and I feel intensely happy to have been there for its last hurrah. And I feel so excited and thrilled to look ahead toward what the future holds: Bad Books, Kevin’s sixth album, and who knows what else.

It was clear that they were crunched for time (“Whistling Dixie” was cut from the encore) and as a consequence of this, there also wasn’t much on-stage banter. But Kevin did take the time to humbly and sincerely thank the audience for choosing to attend this event from amongst everything else going on at CMJ, after which Brian Bonz chimed in and announced, “We true friends.” We true friends indeed.

Bad Books is the child of Kevin Devine and Manchester Orchestra, with KD and Andy Hull at the front, and backed up by the rest of the guys from MO. They’ve all been playing together for years, so what makes this different from Kevin playing along with a couple songs during Manchester Orchestra’s set, or from the guys in MO backing Kevin up as The Goddamn Band—or, excuse me, The Goddamn Orchestra? In some ways it can’t be all that different—it will be the same friends, the same energy, the same musicians. What’s different from the collaboration we’ve seen between these two artists on stage is that the Bad Books album is a collection of songs written by both Devine and Hull—each writer contributed five songs to the record, and they both worked together to mold and build the songs to the stuff we’re going to hear in October. This album will show us what happens when the two artists work together from the start, when they collaborate before they take the stage.

So the first single was released the other day! It’s called “You Wouldn’t Have to Ask” and you can listen to it on the Bad Books Facebook Page. For the sake of links, add their Twitter to your list, and their website too. Don’t forget MySpace, or the band’s label, Favorite Gentlemen.

I like it a lot. It’s a good pop song, so how couldn’t I be into it? From the Bad Books website, “Bad Books cradles a much more noticeable pop aesthetic and energy than either artist has probably ever showcased before.” This is so true. This track is very catchy and it’s more straightforward than anything I’ve heard from either artist. As a big KD fan, one of the things I take note of in a song is whether or not there’s a chorus. If you scan his catalog, lots of songs don’t have them. It’s this amazing thing I noticed in his writing, that both inspires me and scares me. That fact that this one does sport a chorus is a clear pointer that we’re getting something more obvious than usual.

The structure of this song is pretty standard as far as pop songs go. More complex verses that tell us the story, and a lyrically simple verse that’s giving us the big picture of the song. A bridge that builds up to a big instrumental section and then slows down for another verse. This structure is so popular because it’s so brilliant and effective all the time, and yep, add this song to the list of ones that pull it off.

I played this for a friend of mine who enjoys Kevin Devine, but isn’t a big fan like I am, and she heard the first verse and laughed a little, “Sounds like Kevin Devine…bundled bunches break brain branch….” And it’s true: he’s a master of alliteration, and it’s great writing. Right now I don’t know who came up with what, but based on what I know, I’m guessing Kevin’s got something to do with that language.

Something I am so glad to hear in this song is backup vocals. Vocals vocals vocals! A strong display of back-up vocals is something that I consider to be one of the most important things that builds a pop song. The other most important thing is acoustic rhythm guitar, which this song has also got. It’s golden. I often picture melodies as little threads or ribbons that float around the song, and too often the ribbons are too thin or flimsy to solidly stand on top of a full performance of drums, guitars, bass, and so on. I like that I can hear everyone singing along.

While a straightforward pop song, there’s a lot more going on here. One of my favorite things is that muffled building-up scream we first hear before the second chorus, reminding us, “Well if it wasn’t…you wouldn’t have to ask.” I hear Manchester Orchestra there. The scream reminds us that yeah, you can bop your head and sing along to this and grin and stuff, but when you see this performed live, this is something both the band and the audience are totally gonna rock out to.

Bad Books is a lot more than Kevin Devine + Manchester Orchestra. There’s something intangible that’s getting created in the combination. This track has this amazing charge to it that I’m really excited to hear in full-length, and see in person on their upcoming tour. Good art is more than the sum of its parts, and that’s something we have here. What makes it work? It’s impossible to pin down precisely where chemistry comes from, but I think friendship is one of the most important things. You can hear how happy these guys are to be working together, and you can hear that they’re doing what they love with people they love. Music is a medium for spreading joy. I want to see and hear a band with members who’re having a good time with each other, who are so inexplicably happy to be doing exactly what they are doing. That intangible gratitude is what I hear on this first single.

There’s something new that comes from these two songwriters working together. One of the most beautiful descriptions I’ve heard of songwriting styles comes from BNL’s Kevin Hearn. He was asked to describe the difference between Ed Robertson’s songwriting and Steven Page’s songwriting, and he said that they were both wonderful writers, and if he had to sum it up, he’d say that, “Ed writes with his fingers, and Steve writes with his hands.” With the pair at hand, I’d give Devine the fingers and Hull the hands. On the Bad Books website, Kevin admits, “ I think Andy trusts his instincts to lead him to the right place in a song, and sometimes I want to outthink my instincts because I’m scared of repeating myself, of resting on my laurels.”

When I first got wind of Bad Books, I had to suppress a few thoughts like this, “Man, screw this, I just want a Kevin Devine tour.” I’m a fan of Manchester Orchestra, and I’ve been listening to them since they became a band, but there was a part of me that wanted to cling to what I already knew I loved and avoid the work of getting used to something different. Thankfully, I’m over that, and I don’t seriously believe that the independent work of each artist is threatened by Bad Books (crazy!). All the energy and excitement surrounding this release is infectious, and I’m so happy that they are following their instincts and going forward with this project, as opposed to just brushing it under the carpet as something that ‘may happen later if we have time for it.’ It’s better to give songs a proper place when you have them, as opposed to letting them get dusty and feel homeless, hidden beneath your staircase or in your closet somewhere.

The full album drops October 19, and the guys are embarking on a short east-coast tour shortly after. For those of you who don’t live in New England, I’m sending good thoughts that they’ll come to your city soon, too.

Lyrics, as far as I could figure:
Crooked days come bundled up in bunches
They break your brain like a branch
And push you out here asking after for something
you should know I don’t have

If you faced it you wouldn’t need a mask
If you meant it you wouldn’t need a mask
If I could fix you you wouldn’t have to ask
If I could help you you wouldn’t have to ask

*I’m still unsure about this line!

Preview more Bad Books songs:
The Easy Mark & The Old Maid

Mesa, Arizona

You’re a Mirror I Cannot Avoid

Before the show
The three of us left Central Massachusetts around 4:30 pm. I bought myself an iced coffee, and we ate lunch at b.good on Newbury St. I like their fast food better than at Five Guys. I guess I’ve eaten a lot of burgers and fries in the past three days.

Here’s proof that I bought an iced coffee. I’m also wearing some of my favorite clothes! I don’t really wear glasses, and those don’t carry a prescription and I also don’t think they’re mine. Someone gave them to me at some party some night and I figured it would be some fun to wear them sometime.

My brother Seth LOVES! to eat. That’s my orange soda you see though.

Angel Taylor
I sat down and listened to her set. Mostly I remember that she covered “Creep” by Radiohead. I had mixed feelings about it, and then mixed feelings about said mixed feelings. I’m a big Radiohead fan, and I’m frequently parading how great Pablo Honey is, and, specifically, “Creep.” But for some reason, when she announced that she was going to play a Radiohead song and then it turned out to be “Creep,” the snob in me just felt annoyed and pretentious, like, Of course it’d be “Creep.” For some reason the song that keeps coming to my head that I wanted her to cover instead is “Electioneering.” I’m not really sure why!

She’s a very strong singer, and she had really solid musicians backing her up. I’d never heard of her before seeing her tonight. At one point Carissa said, “I think she’s from American Idol,” but I looked that up and I’m not sure if that’s true. I also had to look up what order her name went in, since “Taylor Angel” felt equally possible to me.

Ben Kweller
Ben Kweller’s set really rocked. I think it’s unfortunate that I was like, the only person dancing around during his set. Sometimes I like to dance and rock out at concerts, and sometimes I like to just stand back and watch everything. Last night I felt like rocking out. I’m sure I look really ridiculous jumping up and down and oh man what do I do with my arms? But I don’t really care because I’m happy to just have a good time. I think some people got a kick out of my enthusiasm Sometimes I feel a little bad dancing when everyone is sitting, but I don’t think I should. I think if I felt like sitting down chilling and someone in front of me was bopping around and maybe obstructing my view, I’d take more joy from their happiness than I would from having the better view.

I was glad to hear “On My Way” and also “The Rules.” I’ve been listening to Ben Kweller for a long time, but most heavily before his third album came out, so I know Sha Sha and On My Way the best. Still, I made sure to go through Charging Horses before the show, and so I was pretty familiar with everything he played. The new track that stands out to me the most is “Wantin’ Her Again.”

I think we should all take some time to listen to BK, and then thank him for filling that hole where I want to put a blend of rock, blues, and country, with sliding guitars, walking bass lines, howls and growls, and someone who has done an acoustic cover of “Ice Ice Baby” (actually rendered “BK Baby”).

Ben Kweller Meet & Greet
The Ben Kweller meet was poorly organized and operated in my opinion. At the end of his set, he announced that he’d be heading to the merch table if anyone wanted to say hi. Since the concert had assigned seating, I figured why not, I’ll go stand in line until BNL starts up and maybe I’ll get to talk to him. So we all went to wait in line. It wasn’t too long, and we were getting to the front. Then some woman (who I’m guessing works for the venue) came down the line and asked everyone if they had merchandise for Ben Kweller to sign. She brought every person with a CD or T-shirt ahead of anyone not seeking an autograph. To me, it was a really crappy move. I’ve been listening to Ben Kweller since before I went to high school, and I’ve bought a bunch of his CDs, and this was my second live BK experience. I’m not going to buy music I already own or spend $30 on a t-shirt I don’t really want just so I can keep my place in line.

I just really resent being treated like a “second-class fan” because I didn’t want him to sign anything. In general I don’t really care a lot about autographs. And frequently I pass up opportunities to meet artists because I get really shy. But I’m trying to get over that, and I had a lot of energy from enjoying his set, and he seemed happy about inviting people to come talk to him, and plus my recent experiences with Kevin Devine have me used to artists being really accessible at their merchandise tables. And this wasn’t an official signing, nor was it introduced as such, and so I don’t think I should have been made to feel out of place by not having a CD in my hand.

Me, Ben Kweller, Carissa. I think this is a bad photo but whatever.

Eventually I got to the front of the line (I was going to just leave but my sister really wanted a picture) but I still felt pretty down from being treated so poorly and abruptly by the venue workers. And Kweller himself seemed to be in a rush, which plain just made me feel insecure. He was really nice, and even came by after to take a second picture in case the first one didn’t come out right, but still there was an air of…hey man this is cool but really I just want to get out of here.

I think Ben Kweller’s a great musician, performer, and I’m sure he’s also a really nice guy. Maybe he had something to do or stuff on his mind, but I’d rather have an artist who’s unavailable to fans than one who you can tell is in a rush. He was really nice to take a picture with me and Carissa, but for me that was just a plus, and I really just wanted to say, Hi Ben. I think you’re awesome. Thank you so much. I think I got some of that across, but I wish I hadn’t felt like I had to blurt it out stupidly or lose my chance completely.

Barenaked Ladies
I’m going to copy the setlist from the night, and try to address key moments sequentially. I’m embedding some videos from YouTube, which were taken by other awesome fans.

Who Needs Sleep?
I LOVE this song, and lately I’ve been on a 2nd-half-of-Stunt kick. I have one really happy memory of seeing them do this song in Portland, ME a few years back, and I frequently listen to a live recording of it. Ed’s live vocal performance on this song really blows me away, it’s got this buzz and power that makes the studio recording sound dull, even though the studio recording of this song is totally awesome. I missed the flute part, but let’s talk about that later.

The Old Apartment
Alright, I’m not a huge fan of this song. This was the first instance in the evening of experiencing delayed audience reaction: it’s clear to me by Tyler’s drumbeat that they’re doing OA next, but most people don’t realize that until they hear the first two big hits on guitar. Of course, I could have very well known it was coming by memorizing their current set-list formula, but I tried not to do that for this tour. Besides that, I used to be able to guess exactly what they were going to play based on the guitar (and sometimes keys, banjo, mandolin) set-up. I’m a little rusty nowadays, and obviously many things have changed now that Steve’s not in the band. Even so, I can remember that Ed rarely uses his Strat, and “Old Apartment” is one of those rare occasions.

The reason this might be my least favorite BNL song is it just sounds a little cloudy to me, whatever that means. I think it’s just hearing it so many times, and also my opinion that “Shoe Box” would’ve been a better choice for Rock Spectacle over this song. This did rock though, and Ed really comes through the lead vocal part with a lot of power. Tyler’s another member who really comes through in this song. Since Ed’s on lead, he can no longer do that really low harmony he likes to do in this song. But Tyler came through, and nailed them perfectly.

I love an acoustic version I have of this song best, and I hope that one tour they’ll do this song as an acoustic number.

Falling for the First Time
What’s one of the best things about this song in my opinion? Acoustic rhythm guitar. I think acoustic rhythm guitar and good harmony are the two biggest things missing from a lot of music. Sometimes it sounds okay, but a single thread of melody over a flood of electric guitar just gives me a headache. BNL is the only band I’ve heard that nails everything. There aren’t any empty corners or pockets in their songs that shouldn’t be there.

Every Subway Car
Hey this is the single right now I guess.

Light Up My Room
This song is a long-time favorite that everyone knows is beautiful, I think.

Easy

How Long
I feel like the set this summer doesn’t focus as much on the new album as much as it tries to sweep the catalog. I was hoping to hear more tracks off of AIGT, but I’m glad we got at least one of the really rockin’ ones. This song makes me want to get a megaphone and go to a really crowded place and scream, “SO GIVE IT UP FOR ANGER.”

Another Heartbreak
I was really happy to hear this song. I really think this track is gorgeous. This song reminds me that you can’t really quantify how good something is—as in, it’d be very easy for me to pick apart tiny things and say, “Man, heartbreak/heartache is a pretty cheap rhyme.” But just because something is easy to criticize doesn’t mean it’s worth criticizing, because I think the simplicity of the chorus is a perfect representation of the song. Good songs are like fractals. This track is a sweet, beautiful gesture from a guy who’s just trying to do his best, to not hide anything, to just be himself, and the simple chorus achieves that spirit with ease.

Pollywog In A Bog
Oh! my! god! During “Another Heartbreak” I think I sort of mellowed out my dancing, and this song brought all the energy back for me. At first, I was expecting “I Saw It” and then bam, that bass line. The bass line to this song is so great and distinctive that I’m sure most people can tell you what the starting pitch is if you just ran down the low notes on a piano. During the bridge I calmed down, stopped jumping and stuff, because I remembered Steve’s harmonies. I think the singing in “Pollywog” is some of the best the band has done, and the harmony on the bridge is some of my favorite harmony in music. The other guys were able to fill in all the notes

Sound Of Your Voice
So this is the spot in the show where we get a special acoustic rendition of a song. Kevin reclaims the lead vocals on this track, and instead of playing piano last night, he accompanied the band with a beautiful showing of arpeggios on acoustic guitar. The other three guys stood side by side around one microphone, snapping their fingers and adding backup harmonies, doo-wap style. My favorite part was when they sang what is usually a piano solo. I think right before this song they discussed Kevin’s experience at a barber shop, and this is the kind of thing that would fit in nicely outside of a barber shop, sometime in the 1950s or so. Here’s yet another performance that separates Barenaked Ladies from many musicians…quality entertainment, clear talent, and vivid reinvention.

It’s All Been Done

Too Little Too Late
Two big Steve tracks back-to-back. Ed does a really good job singing these, like he does with every song, and like you would expect him to. Still, I can’t help but miss Steven Page. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. I took a lot of silent moments last night to remember previous BNL shows, to imagine a ghost of Steve jumping around on the stage and clapping, especially during TLTL. I feel this is better than straight-out ignoring his absence and telling myself that it’s just a different band, a different thing. I miss Steve, but the guys don’t sound empty without him. Or rather: I miss Steve, and the guys sound like a full band without him. You know? If I lost touch with a person I really loved and cared about, I would miss them terribly, and I would still love my other friends and family members. No contradiction there, and that’s a really important thing for me to realize.

Let There Be Light
This was a fan request, and I’m really glad it was filled. This is one of my favorite Kevin songs, and I think it’s a great bonus track on All In Good Time. This song is catchy, and tells a story. And if you’ve been having a bad decade, this could be the story for you.

They shared banter and stories with us throughout the night.

You Run Away
Simply put, I think “You Run Away” is beautiful. What can I say? I’ve loved this song since the day I first heard it. To me, this song is flawless. This song makes me fall in love with music all over again, and reminds me why I love BNL so much: beautiful melodies; heartfelt lyrics; thoughtful and precise harmony, instrumentation, and layering; and spot-on story-telling. I’m reminded that being a BNL fan is something I am every day, and not something I became once and just kept at because it’s all I know. This song gives me faith. This song tells a story I’m not part of, but a story which describes a little pocket of my life perfectly.

The most common negative thought I’ve heard of this song is many fans think it’s inappropriate and too obviously bashing Steven Page. I don’t see any bashing here, and nothing is too obvious. Whatever happened between Steven Page and the other guys will fade, seem less important and less tense in time. People will fight with fire in their eyes, but before long they’ll look at each other again and not be sure what the big deal was. I don’t hear anything in this song about one person being right and another being wrong. I hear a story of friendship, from one soul to another, and I simply hear a speaker wishing he could be there for his friend, and not knowing how. The harsh realization that it’s not you, it’s nothing you can do or change, and you’re just not what your friend needs at this point in time.

Musically, this song tugs me in and doesn’t let go. The layered vocal parts at the end bring me back to BLAM‘s “Maybe You’re Right” and I think it’s just as brilliant an idea here as it was there.

I approve of this song as a single more than any other track they’ve chosen for that role. Last night’s performance of this song delivered everything and left nothing to be desired, and I look forward to hearing this song at many shows in the future.

Four Seconds
I have a lot of mixed feelings about this song. The consensus I’ve gathered is that people think this song totally mother-fuckin’ rocks. I can see where they’re coming from, but at the same time I feel like I’d rather have heard this kind of thing on Snacktime! and not on a proper record. It makes me laugh, it does rock, it’s clever and great. It highlights a part of BNL that I both love and resent: I love it for what it is, and resent it for what too many people perceive it to be. I’ve spent a lot of time defending them as a “real” band or a “serious” band, because a lot of people who don’t really know their music get caught up in their silly image and write them off as a novelty act. THIS ANGERS ME MORE THAN ANYTHING ALMOST.

Big Bang Theory
“This song is from…television.”

Frequently when I listen to music, songs come on and I am like, “MAN, I really need to cover this.” Tonight this was the #1 song I wanted to cover. This song is reminiscent of “Ballad of Gordon,” which I’ve always thought was the catchiest song I’ve ever heard.

One Week
I think last night I enjoyed this song more than I usually do. I was able to give up on the image of it and just enjoy that it’s a great song that’s really fun to dance to.

Pinch Me
What’s most memorable about this song was someone threw Superman briefs to the stage, and Kevin sported them for the rest of the night. Kevin’s a little nicer here than Steve has been in the past, and kindly says, “Ed exists,” after the line, “It’s hard to tell if I exist.”

True story.

Million Dollars
At this moment in the set, I usually zone out a bit. For a long time I’ve wished that the band would retire IIHAMD but I’m sure that won’t happen anytime soon. I think they like stuffed monkeys getting thrown on stage far too much to ever do that. This is a fun live song, but having heard it at almost every one of their concerts, I’d usually just rather hear something else, especially since this takes so long to play, what with all the banter and so on.

After this, Kevin went into “Magic” by Pilot, and Ed started rapping. He rapped, Thank you for coming to see us tonight / we’re Barenaked Ladies, did we do alright? Then the crowd exploded, and Ed started beat-boxing. I’m glad they’ve revived the rapping at the end of the show. The only thing is, I’ll have to start listening to more radio music so I actually recognize most of the songs. I think we heard some Black Eyed Peas, Justin Bieber, and Katy Perry, at least.

Alcohol
Tyler sang this! I’m sure this was a mutually beneficial exchange between Ty and Ed, as Tyler got to sing and dance around, and Ed got to rock out on the drums. Once, on a Ships & Dip cruise, my younger sister was interviewed and she was asked, “Who is your favorite band member?” And she said, “I don’t know, but I don’t like Tyler.” I think what she really meant was, “Tyler is my favorite and I think he’s goddamn hilarious,” because that seems to more accurately reflect Carissa’s views on Tyler. This song was a lot of fun, and everything Tyler lacks as a lead-singer, he makes up for in energy in charisma, easily. Since Ed was on drums, Kevin had to cover the guitar part, and so the piano in this track was greatly missed (‘specially the solo) but I think that’s the only thing I regret about this performance.

Tyler Stewart calls alcohol the “next substance.”

Brian Wilson
Ed does a good job singing lead here and I really appreciate it.

After this song, walking out of the venue, someone came up to me and said, “You’re a really good dancer,” and that made me feel good about myself.

Overall, I am filled mostly with gratitude. Last night I was trying to think about what music really does for me. And a sentiment I’ve heard from many people is that music offers an escape: a tunnel through which you can forget all that tedious stuff in your life and just enjoy something. But I realized that, for me, music—and books, movies, comics, art in general—isn’t about forgetting. I don’t want to think of my life as something that needs to be escaped or forgotten. I’m happier to think that truly enjoying something is about remembering. That high, that happy concert buzz I feel, that’s not a feeling I want to have to escape my life to experience. When I feel that charged and energetic, I’m remembering how I would like to always feel, and the music is just a reminder, a little push in the right direction.

Every day is another step in a journey to hang onto all those feelings, to do a better job at it, to let the joy I feel move through me and leak—no, flood—into every part of my life. To be happy and friendly, and slow to anger. So, mostly, I would like to express thanks toward every musician last night, who pushed me to remember something that I too frequently forget, and who have renewed me with the hope that, one day, I may be able to do a better job of remembering it every day, without so much prompting.

I truly loved the concert last night, and like always, the experience makes me want to go to more shows. I’d really like to attend S&D 4 next February, but I’m currently not booked because I’m not sure how possible that will be for me, both financially and academically. I am happy with the experience I’ve had, though.

What did I buy?
After the show, I bought an awesome baby blue wife-beater tank.

I figured I needed this shirt, because wearing it will provide a great opportunity for me to display my jacked rock-climbing arms.

To hear a recording of this show, check out this thread on barenaked.net (the best fan forum to exist ever).

I’m on and off with keeping up with the Twitter Haps, and this morning I’ve decided to see what people have been twittering about. For me, much of the twitter haps this morning are all about Steven Page’s new single “Indecision.” This just came out, and I’m actually listening to it now.

I read Steve’s blog post about the new record a couple days ago. Somehow, I feel like I’ve both skimmed it carelessly, and also poured over every word with intense concentration and thought, what does this *mean*. (One of my favorite things about Steve’s blog post? He gets the grammar right when he says the song was written by “me and Stephen Duffy.”) Steve describes the new song as a “melding of Jobim-style Brazillian pop and classic Steven Page power-pop” and this sounds like a pretty good description of what the song is, except, to me, for the word classic—at least its placement in the description.

When I think of Steven Page, I don’t think of power-pop. When I think of power-pop, I think of The Posies. I’d say this track is classic Steven Page wit, lyricism, song structure, and awesomeness. It reminds me of a cross between what could be a Stunt b-side, and a counterpart to “Baby Loves The Radio” from his 2005 release The Vanity Project. This is the kind of song I look forward to listening to in the car when I’m on my way to the beach, and I’m wearing sunglasses and sipping an iced latte and just feeling cool and pumped.

One thing that is always weird is when an artist releases a new single that you know very well isn’t new at all. This happens pretty frequently though. A quick google search will yield this performance of “Indecision” from three years back:

Indecision by Steven Page 06/29/07 at Jackson Triggs Winery

Carol | MySpace Video

It’s not the same as the huge re-release of Jason Mraz’s “I’m Yours” since this was really just performed in a special, you’re getting an acoustic performance of an unreleased song! kind of way, but hearing the full, banded-up version still feels very different after having the acoustic performance sink in.

The beginning of the song is sorta like the intro theme to a TV show. We get a quick blast of the drums, rhythm guitar, and ooooh-oooh back-up vocals, and then it’s all taken back as Steve lays down the first two verses for us. I sorta feel like he’s saying, Guys, get ready, this chorus is going to totally rock! I’m here to tell you that guys, he’d totally be right if he said that!

Way back when I started listening to music, Steven Page taught me that a song is like a puzzle, and this single is no exception. One of my favorite things that Steven Page is a master of is turning regular, everyday speak upside down, twisting it inside out and making me say, “Oh, so I guess maybe THAT’S what those words actually mean.” I hear this most in the two-line bridge and the first half of the final verse,

Leave decisions up to fate
Nothing comes to those who wait

Come see the view from on top of the fence
We’ll watch the world unfold its events

This is the kind of cutting, in-your-face lyricism that I’ve missed for quite some time now. I like how he says, “We’ll watch the world unfold its events,” as if the “world” he’s speaking of has a mind of its own. “Indecision” is a sparkly song with a speaker who wants to forfeit all power by refusing to make a choice, but at the same time, hold onto it as tightly as he can by keeping his world suspended in the limbo of refusing to choose.

In some ways I’m not wild about the production and all the instrumentation and vocals on this song, but that’s more a reflection of my tastes than it is of how well this was made (I’m pretty serious here – I think in some rendition of my personal heaven, there’s some guy with a sign saying, “Julie, everything here is acoustic and unpolished.”) And in some ways, I like when “they” release fully produced tracks with all the bells and whistles, because it just makes the stripped down acoustic performances that much more special. More than anything, I’m happy to hear Steve’s voice again, and I mean this both literally and figuratively. Over the years, his songs have created a home my mind can travel to at any time, and I’m glad to have that feeling renewed again.

People who follow Steve will have heard a good chunk of the songs on Page One already, and I’m sure there are mixed feelings about it. People want new stuff on a new record. I’m happy with anything. I’m happy to have Steve tie up loose ends, and I’m happy for each song to fall out of acoustic-new-unreleased-but-played-here-or-there limbo and into a real place in Page’s musical career. I’m looking forward to hearing what he’s done with everything, and I’m sure “Indecision” is just a peek at what is a really fantastic record.

In conclusion, I think you should look into buying “Indecision” on iTunes and having a nice day!