At this time last year, I was writing my master’s capstone on Scottish rock bands. I was hoping to never write about the Fratellis again, but here I am. At the time, I thought the Fratellis were going to be big, but the initial buzz after that iPod commercial seemed to die quickly and backlash followed (Los Campesinos! won’t even be your friend if you like the Fratellis). Then last week, they came out with what in my opinion is a brilliant sophomore album, Here We Stand, and played a sold out show at Webster Hall.

The Fratellis debut album, Costello Music, featured boozy singalongs about girls with catchy hooks. Here We Stand is a little more of the same, but more toned down. There are a few misses, like “Mistress Mabel,” the poor man’s “Chelsea Dagger,” but for the most part, the variety and maturity on the second album makes it superior.

At Webster Hall on Friday night, the crowd was pretty well mixed in age and gender. The venue had yet to fill up when openers the Airborne Toxic Event from Los Angeles took the stage, yet everyone in the front was already crowding together, trying to get as close to the stage as possible. The bright colored lighting made it hard to see the band.

The five-piece band plays indie rock infused with violin and a little bit of pretension. They sounded pretty good, but they played for far too long, probably close to an hour. I like to see opening acts because you never know when you’ll discover a great band, but I prefer the sets to be short enough to introduce me to the band but not too long that I get impatient for the band I actually came to see. That’s unfair, I know, but it’s just how I feel.

The Fratellis opened with “My Friend John,” one of my favorite songs on the new album, but it sounded off, the playing lazy. Earlier that day, they played an acoustic show at the Virgin Megastore (which many audience members were raving about, but I couldn’t attend, because I, you know, have a job), so maybe they were tired. But the concert got progressively better and towards the end, Jon admitted that he felt “shite” at the beginning and apologized that the first five songs didn’t sound great. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a band apologize for sounding bad, so that was pretty refreshing, even though it would have been better if they sounded awesome the whole time.

By this point, the 1,400-capacity venue was completely packed. The band did a good job of mixing up the set list with new and old, the hits and the more obscure songs (including “Cuntry Boys & City Girls,” which was not included on the American Costello Music). My friend and I were standing towards the front with all the other short girls near a large group of rather obnoxious drunk boys who were aggressively pushing everyone.

I know, it’s a concert, I should relax and have fun. I can understand jumping and dancing, but I really don’t understand inflicting pain on others. If you must push people around, at least confine it to the songs that lend itself to that behavior, such as “Chelsea Dagger.” Don’t do it during every song, even the slow acoustic ones. That’s just silly. At least there was a duo of high school boys who took it upon themselves to try and block the girls so they wouldn’t be knock around. I guess gentlemen like the Fratellis too.

The show closed all too quickly with “Milk and Money,” an out of character piano ballad which progresses into a rock-out session. As the band left the stage, makeshift stars lit up the background, which were as cheesy as the annoyingly blinding lights.

The first encore was just guitarist Jon singing my new favorite, “Baby Doll.” I never thought the singers of “Chelsea Dagger” could make my heart melt, but I guess I’m just a sucker for a guy and his guitar wearing a “Come Together” shirt with a peace sign. It would have been an intimate moment had those same guys not been singing along loudly and dancing around, which was pretty rude to the band.

Then the rest of the band joined him for the crowd pleasers “Flathead” and “Baby Fratelli.” Though the show felt much too short, it ended on a high note–Mince (the drummer) threw his drum sticks into the crowd and I actually caught one, a concert first.

Pittsburgh is notorious for never bringing good bands to town, but last month (May), OURS made their first appearance in years in the Steel City. The band, out of the New York City/Jersey area opened their headlining tour at Diesel on the city’s eclectic South Side in support of their latest release, Mercy… Dancing For The Death Of An Imaginary Enemy

I’ve been meaning to check these guys out since I first heard of them in 2000, but they never got close enough to Pittsburgh. Cleveland was a fair bet, but within days they had booked a show in my hometown, sparing me a road trip to the Mistake by the Lake and gas at $4.00 a gallon.

The band mix tender, falsetto vocals with rather dark themes of love lost and self-worth. Most of the guitar lines are washed with delay, giving the music a spacey sense of depth and atmosphere, even when the lines are simple.

The band opened with “Willing” from their new record, but soon threw the set-list to the wind as the rather thin crowd yelled requests at the band. Instead of being pompous and ignoring them or frustrated with a sparse room, the band took everything in stride and indulged the audience with their requests. The crowd was exceptionally supportive and sounded as if they were twice their size. And the band didn’t let them down, playing every song as if they were rocking a capacity crowd.

Having all of their records, I was familiar with their song style, but wasn’t sure how everything would come across live, especially vocally. Vocalist and chief songwriter Jimmy Gnecco’s voice is everything it is on their records and more live, a feat not often met in these days of bogus rock stars and studio magic. Every note was met with force and passion, and it wasn’t hard to tell that this guy meant it.

Gnecco effortlessly slips from soft, whispered falsetto to full-on, blood-curdling screams. The two guitarists, Locke (occasionally on keys) and Static, build walls of swirling distortion and rhythm while Race holds the bass line down and Pit Orbach moves the songs with the drums (yes, those are their professional names). Gnecco occasionally grabs an acoustic or electric for a few songs, but focuses mainly on his crushing vocals and eerily dominating stage presence.

On the track “Murder” from the latest release, Race grabbed a trumpet that was on stage and replicated the brass lines from the record. A really nice touch, and refreshing to see that they didn’t try to fake it with a recorded track.

Between songs, Gnecco explained that the nearly six-year lapse since their last release, 2002’s Precious, had been met with many battles. The band really wanted to capture what they do live on the record without being over-produced and maintaining their raw edge. It’s been a long, patient wait but Gnecco confessed that this is the record he has been wanting to make his whole life.

With the legendary Rick Rubin at the production helm, Gnecco says they took their time perfecting each track without outside pressure from label reps and time constraints from promotional ventures. They simply sat back and made sure everything was right by them. It definitely has paid off on “Mercy.”

Gnecco also told the crowd that they were still working songs out live since this was the very beginning of the tour. From my perspective, it didn’t seem that anyone was lost or struggling to find his part. Gnecco’s falsetto was flawless and he nailed every scream. Everything came across very tight and polished.

Actually, I would prefer a band take some liberties during their live show and explore a little bit. It’s much more exciting to me than listening to something that has been rehearsed and doesn’t take musical risks. Keep it a little rough and unpredictable. The whole experience is more live and organic that way, and he definitely has the band that can do it.

I was very interested to see if and how the band would perform “Black” from the new record. The song ends in a spoken tirade in which Gnecco calls out an unnamed aggressor for deceitfulness and taking advantage of sincerity. It worked great live and the sound guy did his part to make sure Gnecco’s low spoken growl was audible to everyone in the room.

Unfortunately, the night was rather brief as the band told the audience they had to be out by 9:30, after just an hour set and two brief openers. This seemed to be a shock to the band, but was all too understandable for me. Pittsburgh is just not up on culture and the times.

In a city absolutely dominated by hip-hop clubs, brawling no-necks, and ladies who get their fashion and lifestyle cues from the Hills, the city struggles to find any sort of original identity.

I can’t blame the club, though. They have to do what they can to make money, and live music is struggling in this town. So they book early shows and then clear the place out so the 40something divorced women in mini skirts and hoards of college kids can start filtering in to get their ears blown out by tired remixes.

Hey, at least Diesel is trying by keeping live music on the bill, but it’s a shame to see an extremely talented band get a crappy time slot and do dismal numbers. I’m getting off the subject here. Perhaps a topic for a later blog.

Ours finished up the set with “Live Again”, an explosive rock song that takes turns in and out of serenity and sonic destruction, augmented by an explosive drum pattern that builds and dies through the song.

With such a powerful tune, it was good to see that the performers didn’t do anything over the top. Absent were the cheesy rock stances and choreographed acrobatics that so often plague a live show. It was just five polished music veterans communicating their emotions to the audience through their music. Even Gnecco’s gyrating dancing toward the song’s finale was fluid and proper for such a dynamic ending.

But one of the biggest highlights of the show for me was when the band finished, they began packing up their own gear. Even with moderately popular bands, you rarely see the musicians humbly wrapping cables and carrying out amplifiers—and these guys are by no means up-and-comers. But they sucked it up and did it themselves with a little help. No grandiose stage exit or breaking of guitars. Just a very honest and sincere Thank-You to the crowd and a humble bow. I got the sense that they all were genuine people and not self-absorbed faux-rockers. They even hung around on stage afterwards to chat with fans and take pictures.

I’ve met and played with a lot of national touring bands over the years and it is rare to meet ones without egos bigger than their tour bus. I’m often disappointed by going to see my favorites bands and then finding out that they are a-holes in person. I’m glad that wasn’t the case this time.

It gives me a warm, happy feeling inside to see headlining bands in the audience during opening acts. It shows me that they genuinely care about music and are probably nice people.

The members of Los Campesinos! not only watched both of their opening bands, but stood in the front, cheering and sometimes even singing along. In this way, Los Campesinos! forever endeared themselves to me before they even started playing.

Aleks (lead vocals/keyboard/melody horn), Ellen (bass/vocals), Gareth (lead vocals/glockenspiel/keyboard), Harriet (violin/keyboard/vocals), Neil (guitar/vocals), Ollie (drums/vocals), and Tom (guitar/vocals) Campesinos! (their adopted last name) met at Cardiff University. They have since graduated college (all but Aleks, who had to take a leave from medical school). Their debut album, Hold On Now, Youngster, was released in the U.S. on April 1 of this year. The band played at the Bowery Ballroom on Monday, May 19, for its fifth stop on its U.S. and Canada tour, continuing until the middle of June.

The first band, Flying, a trio from Brooklyn, did little for me, especially vocally. The three alternated on vocals and while a good voice is obviously not a requirement in rock ‘n’ roll, they did not make up for it with style, conviction, or stage presence, the way the other two bands did. They just sounded very shy and awkward and it was a little uncomfortable to watch. I’d like to give them the benefit of the doubt and say that they were probably nervous and maybe will get better as they become more comfortable around an audience.

The Jersey-based Titus Andronicus gets points for being named after an underrated Shakespeare play. I probably wouldn’t listen to this band at home–the music was a little too repetitive and, well, loud for my taste–but their energy was a relief after the previous set. There was a large group of friends or fans (I couldn’t tell which) in the audience who already knew the lyrics. During the band’s self-titled song, the lyrics evolved into an outcry of, “Your life is over.” There was something both disturbing and gratifying about a room full of people repeating this as lead singer Patrick Stickles jumped off an amp and mimed pointing a gun to his head. The power of rock does have a way of bringing people together.

This proved to be true during the final set by the band that made me allow the exclamation point as an acceptable form of punctuation. It was a good size crowd for a Monday night, maybe sold out, but I’m not sure. Everybody was cheerful and dancing (then again, how can you not dance to Los Campesinos!), and the crowd was one of the most polite I have ever witnessed. Everyone gave each other room and I saw no pushing or shoving. At one point, someone actually apologized for accidentally bumping into me.

Starting with the hyperactive screams of “One, two, three, four!” of “Broken Heartbeats Sound Like Breakbeats,” the band launched into a set as joyous as the album. One of the best things about seeing a band with only one album is that they are pretty much gauranteed to play the song that you’ve been listening to on repeat all week (for me, that song was “We Are All Accelerated Readers”).

We are All Accelerated Readers

I barely noticed the issues with Gareth’s mic, or mics (at one point he was using two). The band members are all between the ages of 21 and 23 and their songs have a juvenile ADHD-like quality, yet there is a sophistication in the clever lyrics and arrangements. The band was as interesting to watch as to listen to, especially Gareth, who looked like a little boy (no disrespect intended) with his horse shirt and charade-like hand motions. In any case, they were having fun with each other (I’m pretty sure Gareth licked Neil at one point) and the audience.

They closed appropriately with “Sweet Dreams Sweet Cheeks” (not to sound old, but at close to midnight, it was past my bedtime) before coming back for an encore, “2007, The Year Punk Rock Broke (My Heart).” In 2008, though, punk rock shouldn’t break the hearts of anyone listening to Los Campesinos!

I’m a total Harry Potter nerd. I’m talking dressing up for midnight book parties kind of nerd. I was an English major in college, so I’m pretty much a nerd for literature in general. And since I write for this site, I obviously love live music. So, seeing a band sing about Harry Potter in a building full of books on a Saturday night is my idea of a good time. Add in the fact that it was free (did I mention I’m cheap too?) and there was no way I was going to miss this.

Boston-based Harry and the Potters are two brothers, Paul and Joe DeGeorge, who write all their songs from the point of view of Harry Potter. Paul represents the seventh year Harry, and Joe represents the fourth year Harry (although I never quite understood this because they both sing songs representing Harry from other years at Hogwarts).

The band is considered the frontrunners of the Wizard Rock movement. They mostly play in libraries, but this was their first time playing at the New York Public Library and they kept calling it a dream come true.

I wish more bands would hold concerts in libraries. Everything seemed so efficient. Tickets were handed out the day before so as not to go over the 500 capacity limit. On Saturday night, since the library was already closed, a line of mostly excited tweenage girls formed outside (I think I was the oldest person there who was not a parent). When they opened the doors, everyone went inside in an orderly fashion and staked out their spots, but there was plenty of room to roam around. I was surprised at how few people were dressed up. Some were wearing Gryffindor ties or Harry Potter related tees (full disclosure: I myself was wearing my homemade “Real Men Play Quidditch” shirt), but very few people were decked out in full Gryffindor gear. Although after everyone had a chance to visit the merch table, I turned around to notice a sea of green “Save Ginny” shirts.

The excitement in the room was infectious when Harry and the Potters bounced onstage in their trademark grey sweaters, white collared shirts, Gryffindor ties, and of course, glasses. They passed out foam fingers, but unfortunately there weren’t enough to go around, and two little boys might have killed each other for one had their parents not intervened. I’ve heard Harry and the Potters CDs before and while I’ve enjoyed their songs, they are not great musicians or singers.

Their songs are simplistic and repetitive. But they do know how to put on a great show. They had lots of energy, frequently jumping into the audience and pumping up the crowd with speeches about the power of love and rock. Towards the beginning of the show, they taught the audience a dance to a song with the lyrics, “Hagrid is fun to hug. Hagrid is full of love. Just don’t pull on Hagrid’s beard.” At various intervals throughout the show, they would go into the song. The first time, some were hesitant, but each time, more and more people would join in the silly dance. At one point in the concert, the drummer, known as “Bill Weasley” got offended that the Harrys called his brother Ron a weasle during the song “The Weasle.” He left and was replaced by a man dressed as a squid (I don’t know what that had to do with Harry Potter), but then they reconciled and Bill rejoined the band.

Inspired by being in the library shown in Ghostbusters, during “The Human Hosepipe,” they segued into the Ghostbusters theme (replacing, of course, the word “ghostbusters” with “Harry Potter”). They played crowdpleasers like “Save Ginny Weasley” and my personal favorite, which they said they don’t play often, “(not gonna put on) the Monkey Suit,” a song about sticking it to the man. For the final songs, the band was joined by the Dumbledore Army’s horn section, adding a more professional level of musicality to the evening. The concert seemed to end much too song, but all in all, it was an hour and a half well spent.

Just as there seems to be an age battle going on in the democratic primary (Clinton’s elderly to Obama’s youth), a similar psychological war was waged last week at the Jimmy Eat World concert, namely between JEW fans and the teenagers who came to see Paramore, a punkish pop, female-fronted band from Tennessee.

It was interesting to see the stark difference between the two groups. Paramore: 80s fashion (think bright colors and strange outfits) coupled with punkish attitudes (I add the “ish” since the real punks are probably in a ditch somewhere).

With Jimmy Eat World, it was more a laid-back group. The girls had those trendy eyeglasses on (is it me or does it seem like everyone has those same ones?), the guys had hooded sweatshirts on. Some were so laid-back that towards the “late” hour of 10pm, they were double fisting cups of Pepsi.

My girl and I were somewhere in the middle. We were more Jimmy fans, but weren’t scared of “the youths” (some people were huddled together in the corner of the arena, as if to hide from the teenager frenzy on the floor).

We were content with mocking Paramore fans and wondering why 80s fashion came back (though in the end we applauded the intensity and started to mock the Jimmy Eat World fans who were “too cool”).

After Paramore, the sweaty teenagers departed from the main area (some left all together, to the obvious joy of their adult chaperones. The rest went to the first tier of the arena to hit the bathroom, buy a shirt, or rub their sweat all over the wall.

I felt bad for the people who thought it was ridiculous and scoffed at some of the teens emerging with no shirt or a missing shoe. If you can’t appreciate that, then you were never in the pit as a kid and missed out.

As for Jimmy, I came to this show as a strange sort of homecoming. I spent five years of my life in Arizona (JEW is from Mesa, AZ) and have always felt a strange kinship with their music. I know how easy it is to “fall in love tonight” after a drunken experience at the bar on “9th and Ash” (it’s Casey Moore’s).

And when I finally left the state a year ago, their song “My Sundown” was one of the first to play on my iPod before the cross-country trip (it had the appropriate lyric “I’ve said my goodbyes/ This is my sundown/ I’m gonna be so much more than this…”)

So it was great to see the band again (this was my…third time? I was really drunk during one of those shows) and, as shows go, they put on a pretty tight set. Almost too tight.

Aside from the perfunctory (though no less appreciative) thanks, Jim Adkins and company didn’t do much expounding to the crowd or even divulge any strange road stories.

It was as if JEW knew that some people left after Paramore or that maybe they felt upstaged by the middle band in the lineup of three. Or maybe the road was getting to them. Either way, it felt quick and even the encore lacked drama. They left with a green light shining on the audience. They returned less than a minute later, so it was more like a water/beer/pee/puke/eat break behind stage.

If they did feel rushed, it’s interesting that, even deep into their career, Jimmy Eat World is still that band no one bets on, that people continue to push aside and that hipsters don’t give a second thought.

At the end of the show, the two factions of fans departed ways. The teenagers, sweaty and some with torn clothes, all exclaimed that this was “the craziest concert” they had ever been to and started recapping the “insane” moments to each other. Somebody yelled back at the jerk in the front row. Someone got puked on. Someone’s ears were still ringing.

I couldn’t help but smile and remember the times I would leave concerts, high off the experience, and feeling like I just witnessed something important. Times are a-changin indeed…

I went out to the State Theatre last Sunday to see Black Rebel Motorcycle Club. I’ve been a fan of the band since 2005’s Howl. That album was filled with acoustic blues-stompers and earthy Americana. It was a departure for a band that built its reputation on heavily overdriven garage rock, but that record’s sound is the standard by which I’ve measured the band since it was the first I heard.

Therein lies the problem.

The California band, named after Marlon Brando’s motorcycle gang in 1953 flick The Wild One, built a reputation as a psychedelic garage-blues band with its first two albums. The most recent, Baby 81, was a return to this form. BRMC was at its best with Howl, but Baby 81 proved that record wasn’t representative of the actual character of the band. I came in to the show with unreasonable expectations, and as a result I was a little disappointed.

Londoners The Duke Spirit opened the show. Bleach-blonde singer Leila Moss noticeably evoked Sonic Youth’s Kim Gordon, wailing over walls of guitar. With her blonde locks, cute British accent and bluesily raspy croon, she exuded sex appeal no American Idol-produced pop tart could ever hope to match. In retrospect, the Spirit might actually have been the better band to take the stage this evening, and they left me in high spirits despite the general apathy of the audience.

At one point, Moss practically begged the audience to move around, asking, “How are those seats? Comfortable?” Unfortunately, the State Theatre is ill suited to the kind of audience involvement that befits this band. Even so, the Spirit turned in a fun and respectable performance.

BRMC didn’t take the stage for more than an hour after the opening act finished. The crowd grew progressively more restless, cheering when a song with the opening lyrics “I’m getting tired of waiting” came on the PA.

An explosion of strobe lights engulfed the theater when the band finally took the smoke-shrouded stage. The lights were pointed toward the audience, which proved to be immensely distracting throughout the show. At times, it felt as if the audience was under attack from the stage. My notes include such choice phrases as:

• “Never point strobes at the audience. Thanks.”
• “More strobes… having trouble seeing to write this”

and

• “Punctuated by the strobes from hell”

I can’t be completely sure anyone else feels so strongly about strobe lights, but it sure as hell put me in a crappy mood and seriously infringed on my enjoyment of the music. I digress.

Guitarist Peter Hayes and bassist Robert Levon Been split the vocal duties, with Nick Jago on drums. Hayes’ deep, smooth voice balanced well with Been’s more nasal delivery. The set list included several cuts from Howl.

Unfortunately, the band played both of that album’s two best songs, “Shuffle Your Feet” and “Ain’t No Easy Way,” near the beginning of the set. Both of these were harmonic and acoustic guitar-driven blues stomps, while the rest of the songs in the set were enjoyable psychedelic rockers played with earnest intensity.

The transitions between acoustic and electric numbers were a little jarring. Because the State Theatre is a venue better suited for the former, an all-acoustic performance from the band would probably have been more desirable.

The rest of the people in attendance didn’t seem to mind the strobes and the odd order of the set list. After the first number, Hayes thanked the audience for its support. The man a few seats down from me took to howling “Thank you!” at the band following every song. Though he was genuinely thanking the band for making a stop in State College, I had never before heard the phrase coming from the crowd instead of the stage and felt accordingly uncomfortable every time he said it.

I’m still a fan of Black Rebel Motorcycle Club and I’m glad I went to the show, but the next time they come through Pennsylvania, they might be opening for the Duke Spirit instead of the other way around.

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club - Ain’t No Easy Way

A couple of weeks ago, I was sent the album “Moonbeams” by Throw Me The Statue, which immediately became memorable thanks to the topless woman falling backwards off a dock. So initially, the cover distracted me.

During the first listen, I was a bit put off. I had it on as background music and felt some of it landed in the “crazy” category (think indie rock but incorporating instruments like the recorder). Then I heard the song “Lolita” and began to hear something good.

It was enough to get me out to their show last night and I can now say that I’m an even bigger fan of topless women falling off docks.

TMTS (yes, I’m that lazy) brought something to the small stage few bands do. Sure then had decorative lights and a keyboardist with a penchant for dancing, but what set them apart is the passion displayed on stage. During one song, frontman Scott Reitherman was jumping up and down and pounding on the extra drum kit on stage (yea, they need two. that’s how much they rock).

When Reitherman did this, he seemed possessed on stage, with his eyes closed and the spirit of rock pumping through his skinny frame. It’s encouraging to see passion like that on stage and only made me want to join him in beating the crap out of a drumkit and rock-howling at the moon.

I think their music got into other people as well, specifically the women at the show. By the third song, two scrambled to the front area of the stage and danced like no one was watching (we were). Soon, others joined in and it turned into a wild, uncoordinated musical mess…but it was awesome.

I’m definitely giving this band a couple more listens. If I was in to putting bands in boxes, I’d try to squeeze TMTS into one with Weezer…but I stomp on boxes and burn them, so I’m not going to do that.

Throw Me The Statue - “This is How We Kiss”

A Quick Word about the Opening Band:

Winter Hinterland, a local outfit from Jamaica Plain, MA walked onto the stage and set up these little lanterns (I think there were 3). Then they dimmed the lights, so much so that you could only see the lanterns and the Christmas lights they placed around the drums in the back. First i thought it was a cool atmospheric effect. Then I realized it was probably because the frontwoman was probably shy and didn’t want the audience to see her sing.

All of this faded away when one of the members took out a saw, (you know, the kind you use to cut branches and the limbs of disobedient carnies) and proceeded to play it with a bow.

Creatively speaking, it was cool. Aurally speaking, it reminded me of a sound effect you would hear in a haunted house, the kind of sound you hear before the drunken, unemployable middle-aged man jumps out at you with a mask and fake blood.

So the quick word? They were interesting, but made me feel weird inside…and a little scared. However, I am overjoyed that Boston is getting a weirder music scene, instead of churning out one pop rock band after another.

After a quick and quiet release, (their album was done a couple of weeks ago and they released without any press involvement) the Raconteurs are hitting the road for a cross country tour.

Here’s the thing. I was excited about “Broken Boy Soldiers” but was eventually disappointed with the somewhat non-rocking album.

Their newest effort “Consolers Of The Lonely” delivers the album I wanted two years ago. And the idea that they said “screw you” to the press in terms of marketing is daring, proving that faith in the music industry is being flushed away like a rotten smelling turd filled with corn.

Check out “Five on the Five

OK, so we had that song streaming on the site for about 10 hours before we got an email from the “Web Sheriff” politely threatening us to pull it off. Since we don’t have any lawyers (or any semblance of an actual office), we adhered to the email.

However, since we are trying to promote music rather than steal, we were given a widget that had the new video for “Salute Your Solution.” It wasn’t compatible with Wordpress, which makes sense since it’s one of the widely used programs out there for blogs.

Instead, we present you with silence, which is all we can offer at the moment. If you’re in the mood for it, it’s at the bottom of the page.

04/14/08 Nashville, TN @ Mercy Lounge
04/15/08 Nashville, TN @ Mercy Lounge
04/20/08 Vancouver. BC @ Commodore Ballroom*
04/21/08 Seattle, WA @ Neumo’s*
04/22/08 Portland, OR @ Wonder Ballroom*
04/23/08 San Francisco, CA @ Bimbo’s 365 Club*
04/25/08 Indio, CA @ Coachella
04/26/08 Las Vegas, NV @ The Joint*
04/28/08 Denver, CO @ The Fillmore*
04/29/08 Kansas City, MO @ Uptown Theatre*
05/1/08 Dallas, Texas @ House of Blues*
05/2/08 and 05/3/08 Austin, Texas @ Stubb’s BBQ*
05/4/08 New Orleans, LA @ New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival
05/13/08 Manchester, Tennessee @ Bonnaroo^
05/27/08 Washington, D.C. @ 9:30 Club^
05/28/08 Washington, D.C. @ 9:30 Club^
05/30/08 New York, NY @ Terminal 5^
06/3/08 Boston, MA @ Bank of America Pavilion^
06/4/08 Montreal, QUE @ Metropolis^
06/5/08 Toronto, ONT @ Ricoh Coliseum^
06/7/08 Detroit, MI @ The Fillmore^
06/9/08 Columbus, OH @ LC Amphitheater^
06/10/08 Cincinnati, OH @ National City Pavilion^
06/12/08 St. Louis, MO @ Pageant%
06/13/08 Manchester, TN @ Bonnaroo Music Festival

* with Birds of Avalon
^ with Black Lips
% with Fiery Furnaces

Get ready for political statements, some musical craziness, and dark brooding because R.E.M. is hitting the road with Modest Mouse and The National.

My girlfriend heard the news on the radio a couple of days ago and replied “Hey, those are all bands we like.” So true. But if you look at it in terms of demographics, the tour, like certain political candidates, reaches across the board of music fans.

R.E.M.: older, highly educated individuals who enjoy pop music that “says” something

Modest Mouse: stoners who get high enough to be crazy, but not so high as to make them tired/paranoid/out-of-it.

The National: everyone else (but especially for hipsters who enjoy songs about mid-20s confusion, sex and living in apartments).

BTW, I’m listening to R.E.M’s new album “Accelerate” and it pretty much kicks ass (and somehow only 34 minutes long). Get it now.

May 23: Vancouver (Deer Lake Park)
May 29: Los Angeles (Hollywood Bowl)
May 31: Berkeley, Calif. (Greek Theatre)
June 3: Denver, Colo. (Red Rocks)
June 6: Chicago (United Center)
June 8: Toronto (Molson Amphitheatre)
June 10: Raleigh, N.C. (Walnut Creek)
June 11: Washington DC, Md. (Merriweather Post Pavilion)
June 13: Boston, Mass. (Tweeter Center)
June 14: Long Island, N.Y. (Jones Beach)
June 18: Philadelphia (Mann Center)
June 19: New York (Madison Square Garden)
June 21: Atlanta (Lakewood Amphitheatre)

Thanks to this upcoming Rilo Kiley tour, Jenny Lewis and I will finally be able to rekindle our love. It’s a love that has existed for years and been kept apart by distance and the evil soul of “the industry.” And it exists solely in my mind.

Don’t understand my fascination? Check out Rilo Kiley’s “Moneymaker” video and just try not to get all riled up (and yes, those are real porn stars).

04.17.08 - San Francisco, CA Concourse (SF Design Center)
04.19.08 - Portland, OR (Roseland )
04.20.08 - Seattle, WA (Showbox SoDo)
04.23.08 - Santa Cruz, CA (Rio Theatre)
04.24.08 - Pomona, CA (The Glasshouse)
04.26.08 - Indio, CA (Coachella Arts & Music Festival)
05.15.08 - San Diego, CA (Concerts in the Park)
05.19.08 - Denver, CO (Ogden Theatre)
05.20.08 - Omaha, NE (Slowdown)
05.21.08 - Omaha, NE (Slowdown)
05.22.08 - Minneapolis, MN (First Avenue)
05.23.08 - Milwaukee, WI (Pabst Theatre)
05.24.28 - Chicago, IL (The Riviera)
05.25.08 - Royal Oak, MI (Royal Oak Music Theatre)
05.26.08 - Cleveland, OH (House of Blues)
05.28.08 - Toronto, ON (Phoenix Theatre)
05.30.08 - Worcester, MA (Palladium)
05.31.08 - Providence, RI (Lupo’s Heartbreak Hotel)
06.01.08 - Northampton, MA (Calvin Theater)
06.02.08 - New York, NY (Terminal 5)
06.05.08 - Philadelphia, PA (Electric Factory)
06.06.08 - Washington, DC (9:30 Club)
06.07.08 - Baltimore, MD (Rams Head Live)
06.08.08 - Richmond, CA (Toads Place)
06.10.08 - Norfolk, VA (The Norva)
06.11.08 - Asheville, NC (Orange Peel)
06.12.08 - Charleston, SC (Charleston Music Farm)
06.13.08 - Manchester, TN (Bonnaroo Music & Arts Festival)
06.15.08 - Dallas, TX (Palladium)
06.16.08 - Austin, TX (Stubbs BBQ)