The Contrarian

Tickets Schmickets/Important Opinion...By James P. Caldwell

 

Congratulations to those who managed to get tickets to Tom Waits' Glitter and Doom tour, all US dates for which went on sale today (Friday.) I surmise it sold out in about 20 minutes, give or take. It goes without saying that I'm offering my congratulations here out of bitterness and petulance. But beyond that, (if there's any getting beyond that - which I doubt), I was kicking around the break room at the office today thinking about how important my opinions are, and I wanted to make a note of the ticket policy for these shows.

For the majority of the tour, Ticketmaster implemented a "Paperless Ticket" system whereby tickets were limited to 2 per purchase, and to get into the theater you have to swipe the credit card with which you bought the ticket(s) and show an id. It's an anti-scalping system Waits has used before, and I think should be used more widely. I mean, let's call it like it is here: these ticket broker places are a den of thieves and fascists, all of whom should be drawn and quartered or at least sent to Git-mo for a solid water-boarding.

Witness the Police tour last summer. Granted, that tour kicked so much ass it can't begin to be quantified. Nonetheless, fans were held hostage by scalpers. If, like me, you had to get your tickets off of eBay, you started to notice a backlash among bidders against these shit heel price-gougers. $3,000 for 4 2nd-row seats? How about you engage in an act of sexual congress with yourself, sir.

It's a fact that ticket prices in general seem to keep rising at a stupid-ass rate. Tickets for the Waits tour are I believe around $85. That's not pocket change, but at least Ticketmaster is willing to accommodate artists like Waits who think fans shouldn't get screwed over by some shut-in scalper in sweatpants with nothing better to do.

So there!            

Glitter and Doom!!!! Tom Waits Tour Official Monday!!!!!

FINALLY. Anti Records has announced that Tom Waits will hold a press conference Monday, May 5th, at 9am where he will reportedly announce a 2008 tour titled "Glitter and Doom". The press conference will be viewable at tomwaits.com, his long-dormant site that's set to launch Monday.

AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

If you're a Waits fanatic like myself, you've been scouring, digging, cursing and throwing fits trying to find details on the tour rumor ever since that evil magazine Rolling Stone three months ago printed a blurb that a tour was being planned. David Fricke is a jerk. 

I'm already packing my survival kit for ticket camping out. Maybe I should buy a pistol. At the very least I'll need to sharpen a stick at both ends. . .

[This is James' post, btw — although I, too, dig Tom. Oh, and P-Dork says the show is on. -ED]

Why I Don't Play Live (Often).

But when I did, it looked a lot like this.

My co-worker Chhaya just published a really thoughtful post about touring (and traveling for work) over at Liquid Sunshine. Unlike Chhaya, I never felt called to a life on the road, but I certainly understand outgrowing something you previously held dear. For me, it's live performance, which so many people associate with the music, but I now find tedious. And it's not all about travel, although I definitely did my share of that back in the band days.

The driving was fine, and the company was occasionally tolerable, provided I'd had enough coffee/booze/sleep. What always got me was the waiting around. I really hated dragging my shit into the club and being basically trapped there between soundcheck (if you were lucky to get one) and set time. Sure, you could walk around town, but there's always the need/compulsion to get back to the venue. You could sit at the bar and drink, but if you have the relationship to alcohol that I have, that isn't always the best idea. (I'm a perfectly jovial drunk, but the problem is if I start, I just keep right on going. This can lead to messy performances, which I really can't stand.) So mostly you just roam around bored, every sticker on the walls confirming your understanding that there are simply too many bands out there.

You don't really meet the best and the brightest on the road, either. Soundguys will talk you ear off about their new compressor and how they once ran front-of-house for Whitesnake. That's if they talk to you at all; often they just mumble monosyllables. Until you spill beer into their monitors, that is. Then they demonstrate a quite colorful vocabulary.

Audiences, while often appreciative, are typically soused. They shout ridiculous shit at you (especially if you're the frontperson). Sometimes they even get up onstage and step all over your pedals. Believe me, I've been tempted to react like Jay Reatard does in this here clip. Actually, I do recall getting a little testy back in the day. (If I caused any unanticipated dental work, you have my sincerest apologies.)

Also, the pay pretty much sucks for playing live. I've found I can much more easily subsidize my gear habit by mixing/mastering other people's work. Don't get me wrong, I have been paid pretty well for shows, but I always had to split it with other people! (Plus it was the old days.) Hmm, maybe I'm just selfish.

It's true that there's something exciting about the chemistry between the right players. I've been there before, and some pretty incendiary shit came out of it. Unfortunately, it's a lot like relationships: the volatile ones usually produce the most passion, but are the hardest to sustain. Intensity can so easily slip into mutual antagonism.

The only downside to studio life these days is that there's less value to recorded music. Pricing is pretty well fucked, with major stars setting out the online begging cup. But as Don Van Cleave of the Coalition of Independent Music Stores told me just yesterday, we're only about seven years into the Digital Disruption. It will eventually stabilize. Or so we hope.

Another problem with studio work is that it really brings out your perfectionist tendencies. I still write what I consider to be interesting music that's well-played, but since I have essentially endless amounts of time to revise and re-envision, I can take forever to release anything. I thought my new record, Northern Lights, was done, but now I think I'm gonna make some further alterations. I'm like Axl Rose but without the hair extensions. And I can play everything myself, ha! 

Wow. That's a lot of blathering. But I guess that's what blogs are for.

Mountains 'n' Mormons.

I've been taking a lot of pictures of Utah sundry, and will post soon. We checked out the venue yesterday. Majestic. I'll upload some shots when I get a second. We play this afternoon at 2:30. I feel pretty good about our performance in rehearsals, but there are some lingering doubts about the technology. Fingers crossed. Our piece is being recorded, so there's a good chance I'll post it here for your consideration.

In the meantime, read about George Dvorsky's existential angst. I would rarely want anyone to speak for me, but I'm happy to point to this post as an example of my own intimate uncertainties.

Led Zeppelin To Tour With Reformed Nirvana!

UPDATE: April Fool's!!!!!!!

I penned this supposed story all by myself, and I'm rather proud of my work. Note how I used words like "queue" and "whilst" for extra authenticity. But seriously — did you really think ANYONE would accept Scotty Weiland as a replacement for Kurt Cobain? There'd be riots in the streets.

From the London Times:

Recent reports have put the on-again, off-again Led Zeppelin reunion tour decidedly back on, with frontman Robert Plant declaring his committment to a worldwide jaunt with the group in early fall. Perhaps most surprising is the band's choice of opening acts, which follows months of rumors and speculation about who would get the warm-up slot.

In another shocker, Zeppelin, which disbanded in 1980 following the accidental death of drummer John Bonham, has tapped defunct Seattle grunge stars Nirvana as openers. This is most surprising to music fans and observers, considering the suicide of Nirvana frontman and songwriter Kurt Cobain in 1994.

Zeppelin mouthpiece Plant explains the decision: "Many associate us with some bygone hippie era, but members of Zep have always kept abreast of modern music," he told the Times via phone whilst prepping for a tour with US bluegrass singer Allison Krauss. "Nirvana, in many ways, were the Led Zeppelin of their time. And if we can get it back together, so can they."

No comments were forthcoming from the Nirvana camp, which includes bassist Krist Novoselic and drummer Dave Grohl, also of rock act Foo Fighters. Rumors of Cobain's replacement have begun to run rampant, with ex-Stone Temple Pilots and Velvet Revolver singer Scott Weiland at the top of the queue.

"Scott is a natural choice," says one associate close to Nirvana. "Of course, he doesn't really play guitar, so they'd have to draft another player. I've heard Izzy Stradlin's [Guns 'N Roses] name kicked around, but at this point, it's just speculation."

Led Zeppelin were among the top concert grosses of their era, with some attendance records still standing. The band has not toured the US since 1977, and are expected to command a hefty ticket price for any and all dates.

Wow. I can't fucking believe it. As psyched as I am about Zep touring, I'm pretty pissed off that Nirvana would contemplate reuniting without Kurt. And especially with that douchebag Weiland. When are bands gonna learn?

Last Nite.

SXSW night 1. Ridiculous fun.

Saw Witch, Pretty & Nice, and Black Angels. Forgot to take pictures, but remembered to drink beers.

Today I'm going to the Rhapsody party, a top-secret meeting (ha!), Motorhead, and um. . .  Other stuff.

Back later.

Githead and Rocco. . . By Jebson Interlandi

A young Jebson Interlandi and his now-deceased twin brother show their political stripes.

Since living in Amsterdam, I've been on vacation from American politics, and it's been highly refreshing. But as Timmy Leary would say, it's time again to get down on all fours. I'm pretty excited, for my own perverse reasons. And regardless of the primary's outcome, in a historical sense, progress has been made.

I've already lost fifty dollars because of a bet made over the summer in which I predicted the general election to be between John Edwards and Rudy Giuliani.  Clearly, my political augury is lukewarm.  Anybody care to make a wager on Barack Obama/John McCain?  The odds are in your favor.

What I anticipate  most is witnessing the rallies and fervent displays of the supporters waving signs and explaining their dim reasons for "liking" their candidate. This is the season when that innate instinctual urge comes out in people — that magnetic pull towards worship. Whether in religion, politics, music, literature, film, etc., we tend to seek icons to bolster up and place on the pedestal while we kneel down, eagerly waiting to be sprayed with their charismatic discharge.

Seen through the most cynical lens, one could say we're looking at a compacted fecal log — a regurgitated colonic composite, passed through the polypoid anus of humanity, dropped on the grass and then swarmed by coprophilic flies.

I'm more of an optimist, at least for today, so I prefer to view this phenomenon in a different light. Perhaps, regardless of whether our testes drop or our mammary glands expand, we retain our infantile urge to grasp at the nearest parental finger. That finger, whoever it belongs to, offers a degree of hope. A symbolic way of replacing posters on the wall — Don Mattingly to John Lennon to Bob Marley to William Burroughs to Ronald Reagan to Jimmy Carter to Jesus to the Dalai Lama to Chris Rock to a mirror, etc.

Yes, yes.  I look forward to watching things heat up in the election.  More icons for our dissection.

Speaking of icons, on Tuesday night I went to the famous Paradiso to see Colin Newman. When I first arrived at the old cathedral-turned-music-venue, I walked into the main-stage area where Tower of Power were wankin' and blowin.' I had to catch a glimpse of their bassist, Rocco Prestia out of respect from my Berklee days. Though I can't stand the music he plays, Rocco is the sixteenth-note king and a champion of carpal-tunnel.

On the second stage was Colin Newman's band, Githead. Newman is one of those musical icons who deserves more recognition than he gets. He was in the influential London band, Wire (est. 1976), who are another example of an act benefiting from exposure to Brian Eno. I'm a big fan of his two solo albums, A-Z (1980) and Commercial Suicide (1987). You may recognize his song, "Alone," from the Silence of the Lambs soundtrack.  Anyway, Githead was mediocre at best — it was clear they had rehearsed maybe twice. But the gear-geek quotient was considerable, as they sported two Line 6 guitars paired with Roland amps. 

I suppose my standards for live bands are too high. I either want them to be such good friends it appears they're constantly sharing an inside joke and the audience laughs even though they don't get it, or I want them to hate each other so much the drummer pretends his snare drum is Sting. (Or, if the drummer doesn't happen to be in The Police, then some other band member.)

Here's "Life on Deck"  from Newman's solo album, A-Z. It's a fine example of his talent for climactic songwriting.

MP3: Colin Newman — "Life on Deck"

If you have 10 minutes to spare, I encourage you to listen to this recent Wire track, "23 Years Too Late," from their November 2007 release, Read and Burn 03.  It's long and repetitive, but it's a literary gem with Newman's accentuated voice controlling the choruses. Enjoy.

MP3: Wire — "23 Years Too Late"

One last thing, "Sexy Sadie" passed away in Vlodrop over here on Tuesday.  Peace be with you.

RRIICCEE. . . by James P. Caldwell

That's me and Vincent Gallo.

Apparently, when you look Vincent Gallo directly in the eye, you turn into something resembling a dead bloated frog that's been stewing in warm dishwater for a week — with a crazed look in its eye. Laugh if you like, but consider yourselves warned. As a result of the above photo, I've been using all these strange new machines at the gym.

Anyway, what the hell was I doing with Vincent Gallo? The answer, dear readers, is that I'm simply that hip. No, truth be told, a cool night for me is if TBS airs a good re-run of "Friends." Like the one where Phoebe tries to teach Joey to speak French for a role he's auditioning for. God, I love that one.

But Friday, I decided to break my usual evening routine and go down to boho NYC central — also known as Bleeker Street — to catch Gallo's current touring band, RRIICCEE. RRIICCEE is Gallo on mellotron, melodica, guitar and bass; Eric Erlandson (Hole) on guitar and a million gadgets; Rebecca Casabian (who looked like a small Dutch boy) on keyboards; and Nikolas Haas (who was nearly naked) on drums. 

Here's Gallo's take on the project:

"Improvisation is not a good word for what we're doing. It's more a gesture of composing and performing at the same time, always hoping to avoid musical cliché or jamming...Improvisation means committing to a musical form or vocabulary. We're creating composition, which means we need to be conscious and reflective. We are spontaneous and we are inventing, but we're not wallowing in scales. We're trying to organize structures that we recognize in the moment, that make compositional sense and build upon those. Conscious is the best word for what we're doing." 

Gobledeegook? Perhaps. I like better his observation that, "If I'm not making music that is better than me or beyond me being the asshole that I am, then. . . eventually I will create my own cliché. And I'm hoping to avoid that as much as possible." 

My own profound assessment of the performance was that it was good. I tell you from the bottom of my dead, bloated frog-heart that it was good. If you liked Gallo's 2001 record When, there's a high chance you would dig a RRIICCEE show. You definitely wouldn't walk out, as about a half dozen of the 200-plus people on Friday did.

RRIICCEE has been billed primarily as a collaboration between Gallo and Erlandson, but it's clearly Gallo's band. A good deal of the sonic landscape he developed on When comes through here in various forms — the jazzy chords, intermittent drums, syncopated bass lines, etc. (Some of the vintage equipment he used Friday had to be on that record.) If you consider Gallo to have a sound of his own, it's that sound which drives RRIICCEE.

In my unprofessional and illegitimate view, a lot of "improv" bands seem to follow some unwritten code by which they must, at all costs, break into self-indulgent, endless meanderings until you want to blow your head clean off your shoulders. Conversely, RRIICCEE instinctively knew when a piece should wrap up (few songs were longer than 7 or 8 minutes). But with the show just shy of an hour and-a-half, there was room for plenty of exploration. They kept it interesting. When you found yourself wanting a new musical landscape, RRIICCEE served your ass like John McEnroe.

Probably the best thing I can say about the show is that you could catch the compositional drift. A sort of, "OK, that made sense to me" type of feeling, as opposed to a "Can I have my $25 back?" deal. Some tunes resolved into pretty, crashing chord repetitions a la Mogwai or even Godspeed! You Black Emperor. Others lilted away. Gallo only sang a couple of times, but his voice was great. I like his vocals. He sounds like a chick. He knelt or sat on the floor in his white boots for pretty much the whole show.

Overall grade: B+. And I would especially recommend seeing RRIICCEE because they have no plans to ever record anything. So there.

Oh, one more thing: the height of the evening was after the show when Gallo was having his photo taken with a couple of young Japanese girls who spoke marginal English. He was trying to explain to them that his music and films were best enjoyed with bukkake.

Gallo: "Bukkake - you know bukkake? Yes? Yes?"

Japanese Girls: "Bukkake? No, what is this 'bukkake'?"

Gallo: "It's sort of like a noodle soup. A very tasty noodle soup."

The end.

P.S. Here's a link to a short but awesome video where Gallo touts his conservative credentials and professes his desire to look more like George Will. How seriously you want to take that is your business.   

P.P.S. I have instructed my assistant Juan to inform Casey that he is now contractually bound to post an embarassing photo of himself that is relevent to either music, media or metaphysics. If he's a real man, it'll be metaphysics.

Zep Vids.

You didn't think I was gonna stop, did you? I practically owe Led Zeppelin my existence, for better or worse. Here are some sights and sounds from last night's concert. Rock 'em before they're taken down:

This is a shaky video of "Kashmir,", but it sounds pretty damn good. Robert Plant proves us naysayers wrong, as does Jason Bonham.

"Black Dog" is definitely pitched down, but still not as bad as it could've been.

"Since I've Been Loving You." Jimmy Page is holding up fairly well. Musically, at least.

The obligatory. . .

"In My Time of Dying." The quality of the clip is poor, but you can tell JB [not that JB] is really workin' it on the kit. I'm kinda proud of him.

"Rock and Roll." About as shitty live as it ever was.

Part of "Dazed & Confused." Quite heavy, actually. Would've loved to have heard the whole thing.

That's it for now; I'll look for more later. All in all, not so bad, right? They've been rehearsing since May, which probably helps. Bring on the world tour!

LZ update.

It's now 10:29 p.m. in Old Blighty, and Led Zeppelin — who took the stage shortly after 9 — are apparently  still rocking the fuck out.

So far they've played:

"Good Times, Bad Times"
"Ramble On"
"Black Dog"
"In My Time of Dying"
"For Your Life" (first time ever played live)
"Trampled Underfoot"
"Nobody's Fault But Mine"
"No Quarter"
"Since I've Been Lovin' You"
"Dazed and Confused"
"Stairway To Heaven"
"The Song Remains the Same"

I'll be compulsively checking YouTube throughout the night for clips. But I doubt I'll find anything.

NME is live blogging it right now.