Outside Lands 2009: Day 3

My apologizes for not Tweeting like a good little Web 2.0er, but I decided that my last day in the Shangri-La that is Outside Lands was going to be all about the music and good times. That's why I'm filling you in now, after the good times were had. As such, the final day of the San Francisco's second Outside Lands came to a tremendous and wild conclusion. Here were the highlights...

12:45: Chris and I shuffle through the gates and find that the overcast day keeps the sun at bay.

1:00: We go and visit our friends David and Whitney at the Farmer's Market tent. They were working, so we thought they should have visitors that are familiar. The farmers gave Chris a peach that was apparently incredible. Whitney and I discuss Outside Lands plans, Paramore, and the other blog I'm maintaining with David. We agree to meet up during M.I.A.'s set.

1:30: Chris and I camp out in front of the Twin Peaks stage, awaiting the arrival of Atmosphere. We discuss Inglorious Basterds and the whole of Quentin Tarantino. We come to the conclusion that most people like Tarantino movies for the wrong reasons. Namely, the violence.

2:15: Atmosphere takes the stage with a roaring reception from the hungry crowd. Anthony Davis settled behind his turntables as Sean "Slug" Daley took to greeting the crowd, goading them to chant "GOD LOVES UGLY!" alongside him.

2:20: After a few numbers featuring the quick wordplay of Brother Ali, Atmosphere break into a rousing rendition of "Yesterday" the thick soul beats and jaunt piano piercing through crystal clear over Slug's amped up delivery. Slug's suave spit of "Listen all ya'll/It's a Sabotage..." during "Puppets" drew a wave of applause for the Beastie Boys, who were sadly absent from the festival due to MCA's brush with cancer.

2:35: Slug taught us a new dance. It consisted him holding his hands up. Good thing it segued into the entrancing storytelling of "Less One."

3:15: Chris and I venture over to the Intel dome. We are served blue liquids in viles. We are unsure if they are an energy drink or Gatorade. We are underwhelmed by Intel's 1998 version of "The Future."

3:30: I buy some sweet potato fries. Chris and I lament on the proper uses for ginger in dipping sauces. We do not come to an appealing consensus.

4:00: We stake out an area for Modest Mouse. The wind picks up and Chris and I ridicule hipsters in bad plaid.

4:20: Issac Brock leads his indie counterparts on stage for a smooth take of "Gravity Rides Everything." This perks me up for a set that might contain a great deal of The Moon & Antarctica. It doesn't, but it hardly makes it a bad set.

4:30: The band keep a mellow tone throughout their set, drummer Joe Plummer keeping time effortlessly alongside Eric Judy's steady bass. Shockingly, Brock kept his haggard vocals in check in an attempt to follow his band. Smooth versions of "Fire It Up" and "Dashboard" really hit the crowd.

5:10: They launch into the long twangy rhythm of "The Whale Song." Brock's hypnotic guitar makes me enjoy this more than the EP version.

5:25: They don't play "Float On." Modest Mouse earn kudos from me.

5:30: Fooding commences. Hard day of rocking makes one hungry.

5:45: Steven, David, and Whitney join Chris and myself. We catch up and are informed that Jack White's band The Dead Weather was good.

6:05: M.I.A. takes the stage with horribly dressed backup dancers, a fleet of percussionists and one smooth DJ. Her costume appears to be a cheetah with heart ears. I forget the fashion, and indulge in a booming version of "Bambo Banga."

6:30: While she'd sometimes hold the mic too far away, M.I.A. was quite the show(wo)man. Her and her oddly dressed cohorts turned the Polo Fields into a gigantic dance party. Clever sampling of the Beastie Boy's "Sabotage" as she spit "Bird Flu" drew even more applause and was a nice gesture on her part.

7:00: It's clear that M.I.A. does a great job on her live show. The beats are deep and pulsing, her DJ energetic and spontaneous, and her delivery lively. "Paper Planes" closed everything nicely, sampled gun fire ringing all throughout Golden Gate Park.

7:30: We push forward for Tenacious D. The cold sets in.

7:50: After a great deal of screaming, The D make their way on stage. They take us on a rockin' odyssey where they whip out Zeppelin-influenced classics like "Wonder Boy" and defeat the Devil.

8:45: After making careful work of "The Metal" in sinks in that despite their joking stage show, Jack Black and Kyle Gass actually put on a great concert. They're voices on pitch, their energy rivaling a great classic rock band, and their acoustic playing precise, Tenacious D might be a satire on bone head rock but they end up being so much more.

9:20: I bid farewell to Outside Lands under a starry sky.

Special thanks to SPIN Magazine for awarding me free tickets. I like free music and they obliged.

Outside Lands 2009: Day 2

Forces larger than myself were keyed into the fact that San Francisco dwellers are not used to the sun being so....well, hot. As such, Day 2 at Outside Lands was far more subdued than Day 1. With a gentle breeze blowing off the ocean, the day made for a more relaxing outing inside San Francisco's little paradise.

1:30: I'm on a MUNI full of very cranky concertgoers. I make friends with a slight man sporting a large handlebar mustache. His plans for the day? "We're gonna BBQ and do this shit RIGHT!" I couldn't agree with him more.

2:05: I'm being searched as I enter. The chain link fence herding us in suddenly collapses and a very bald man is running away. Staff is less that enchanted.

2:15: I meet up with Steven and Brandon. We muse about lemonade and the like.

2:20: Groundation begins. Now when it comes to reggae I'm very particular, but these guys are the real deal. Armed with an army of horns, reverb, and good times, these Sonoma natives kick out the jams.

2:40: It's occurred to me that there is a green haze hovering over the crowd. It explains the awful dancing of white people.

2:50: Harrison Stafford informs the crowd that Groundation is "conscious music" not pop music. I can get behind that insomuch as most of the crowd's consciousness has been altered. Joking aside, however, Groundation's take on traditional reggae is very percussive and jammy. Stafford's lyrics about spiritual discovery and over coming personal struggle are wonderfully compelling as well.

3:15: I stop by the Panhandle stage and catch a few minutes of Portugal. The Man. I'm convinced they need to decide on a genre and stick to it. Post-hardcore doesn't always mix with piano balladry and odd percussion. Well, maybe if you're Chiodos.

3:30: I notice that in addition to the balding 40 year old men, the audience gathering for Mastodon have two very distinct camps. One is the white/dreadlocked rasta crowd and the other is 40 year old soccer moms. This is perhaps the most bizarre crowd I've evern been in.

3:55: Mastodon take the stage and pummel the audience for an hour. The mixing was a tad off as Brann Dailor's double bass overwhelmed most of the band's meaty riffs, but their overall quality of play was tight and lean.

4:15: I come to the conclusion that naming the band "Mastodon" is about the most metal thing one could do. Mastodons were big and violent, just like metal.

4:50: Brent Hinds shows us how much he likes the whammy bar for a good five minutes. He conjures some evil sounds from his axe, his fingers flailing and bending to match the group's thrash-meets-prog sound. It's what one would expect: Big and violent.

5:10: I run towards food. All that rockin' empties the stomach quickly.

5:30: Steven meets up with me again as we camp out for TV On The Radio. We talk about awful concertgoers. Kids today just don't know how to behave at shows.

5:38: Crazy lady quote, "I'll get TV on YOUR radio!"

5:40: TV On The Radio take the stage for an incredible performance. Opening with "Love Dog," the group makes full use of a live horn section as Tunde Adebimpe and Kyp Malone's soulful vocals dip and dive.

6:00: The crowd is flat out dancing to the grimy groove of "Red Dress." For a band that crafts their albums so meticulously in the studio, it's refreshing to see TV On The Radio add a bit of swagger. Ultimately, their songs come across more like a horn driven armada than detailed experimentalism, but the result is still astonishing.

6:40: The band closes with the up-stroked energy and verbose wordplay of "Crying." The crowd hungered for more as TV's thick break beats and robust horns brought the funk and the fun.

7:00: Steven leaves to go meet up with Brandon as I'm joined by my friends David and Whitney. We catch up, chew the fat, and eagerly await the next act.

7:30: With a fleet of musicians and two very afroed individuals, The Mars Volta take the stage for what can only be described as an hour and a half long musical freak out. They open with "Goliath," Cedric Bixler-Zavala wailing into his taped up microphone as Omar Rodriguez-Lopez's wah engorged lead work twisted and turned with the group.

7:40: "Don't drink the black coffee, because there is a fish in the perculator." -Bixler-Zavala

7:50: All the fears I had about seeing The Mars Volta live have vanished. While the group interspersed some ambient and spacey jams, they stuck to songs fans knew off their 4 album output. "The Widow" impressed with monoliths of deliciously funky riffs while "Roulette Dares (The Haunt Of)" crashed down with prog-rock style.

8:56: They annouce there will only be one more song, and as the crowd takes in the freakish backdrop of a skeletal fish, The Mars Volta assault the audience with the post-hardcore-meets- Frank Zappa jazz rock of "Wax Simulacra." I don't know how they do it, but The Mars Volta make messy and seemingly random sounds feel cohesive and digestible in a live setting.

9:15: I meet an Austrailian man that overhears me talking about Incubus' performance the day before. He informs me their cover of Prince's "Let's Go Crazy" was a bit "faggy." We're not friends.

Outside Lands 2009: Day 1

To say that the Outside Lands festival in Golden Gate Park is a concertgoer's idea of heaven might not do the whole event justice. With stages, booths, and events set up across three expansive meadows, Outside Lands might be heaven on earth. Period. As such, here's an account of my first day adjusting to paradise.

12:15: My friend Paulina and I arrive and have Venom energy drinks thrust into our arms. We don't drink them because we feel awkward about letting things named after snakes into our bodies.

12:30: I'm greeted by the enormity of the event. It's akin to a kid in a candy store.

12:40: Merch merch merch. I pick up a Silversun Pickups t-shirt.

12:50: We set up camp at the Lands End Stage in the Polo Fields. We're instantly aware that San Francisco has been licked by the sun, and a tremendous amount of sunscreen is applied.

1:05: Autolux takes takes the stage and opens the day. I'm reminded of how underrated Future Perfect is as an album.

1:15: "Turnstile Blues" rock us in all it's swirling, feedback induced glory. I come to the conclusion that Carla Azar can hit the hell out of the drums.

2:00: The first wave of hipsters start setting up camp. Paulina and I decide the criteria with which to identify them. They are as follows: Plaid shirts, bad stubble, tight pants, bright colored pants, Ray Bands, clove cigarettes, and any mention of The Smiths.

2:15: I berate Paulina for not liking her iPhone. After playing with it, I realize I want one even more.

2:30: Built To Spill comes out on stage (After a few members doing their own soundcheck) and proceeds to blow us all away. My only previous brush with the band is "Car" as covered by Brand New so I don't know what to expect. Within their first opening songs, I'm hooked.

2:40: I start noticing where Ben Gibbard borrows his singing style from. The band is tight, their arrangements falling in the realm of thick pop-rock with an indie flavor. The guitar bends are rich and they play a mean solo.

3:00: They play "Car."

3:40: Clouds roll in an shield us from the sun. Thank goodness.

3:50: I'm suddenly aware that Silversun Pickups have a larger following then I expected them to. Our campsite is overrun. Standing room only.

4:15: Silversun Pickups takes the stage. We are inundated with hipsters and smoking enthusiasts.

4:30: To say Silversun Pickups are a great live band is, again, a gross understatement. Brian Aubert's voice is ethereal and passionate, Nikki Monniger's bass is pulsing and deep, and Christopher Guanlao's skins work is detailed and precise. The band's energy is ten fold of their recorded selves, propulsive and almost punky at times.

4:40: They bring the fuzz with supped up versions of "There's No Secrets This Year" and "Panic Switch." While stripped back from their album counterparts (Keyboards taking a back seat to their messy guitar work), I'm convinced seeing them headline would be an incredible show.

5:12: Sliversun Pickups close out their set with a raucous and overdrive soaked version of "Lazy Eye." The crowd goes nuts and the feedback shakes Golden Gate Park. Tremendous.

5:30: I meet up with my friend Steven briefly. He's going to see Tom Jones. Paulina and I say we're staying for Incubus.

5:40: I chide Paulina about her crush on Brandon Boyd.

6:00: Incubus take the stage and sound tremendous. Ben Kenney's bass is low and grinding while Mike Einzinger reminds us how versatile a guitarist he is, his chunky riffs ranging from punk to metal to jazz with a few quick strokes.

6:12: They drop "Anna Molly" on the crowd and the huge sing-a-longs take hold, partially to help Boyd who was battling a cold. The selfish part of me took a great deal of pleasure in the fact that their set had a great many tracks off Light Grenades, my personal favorite Incubus album: "Anna Molly," "Love Hurts," "Quicksand," "A Kiss To Send Us Off."

6:30: I'm convinced that DJ Kilmore understands dynamics.

6:56: The band ends with a blistering take on Prince's "Let's Go Crazy." I'm shocked they don't end with "Drive."

7:15: Paulina and I escape the now cramped crowd in search of drink. We pick up food and set up camp a further distance away for Pearl Jam.

7:30: I try to convince Paulina that Paramore are a decent pop-rock act. She doesn't buy it.

7:50: Pearl Jam take the stage and the crowd erupts in cheers.

8:10: A few songs in, and the band is tight and focused. For musicians that got lumped into the grunge scene, it's wonderful to see them truly play like a classic rock band. Big meaty riffs, blusey solos, and Eddie Vedder's gravely voice.

8:30: We learn Vedder's voice is nearly shot from the tour. He begins rambling about being safe in the pit. I'm convinced that Vedder sounds like a crazy homeless man. It's a good thing.

8:40: "Evenflow" is a force of nature. The thunderous drumming brash guitar showmanship scream rock 'n roll. There is a reason this song was HUGE in the 90s.

9:00: The crowd starts helping Vedder sing Pearl Jam classics. "Black" is positively haunting with such large gang vocals.

9:50: Pearl Jam close out their set with Neil Young's "Rockin' In The Free World" capping off a great day with a classic song.

10:00: I don't envy the clean up staff.

The Rundown

Pardon me for slacking on my posting but for being unemployed, life is startlingly distracting at the moment. Additionally, I've been working with a couple friends of mine to get another blog up off the ground. It's called 1,000 Words and its primary focus is developing a community for short fictions writers. I'm a regular contributer as well, writing things that aren't music related. If that's your thing, I suggest your check it out.

Now then, things to expect from THIS blog in the near future:

Concerts!

I've won tickets to Outside Lands in Golden Gate Park this year. Expect coverage of that for the next few days as well as my pointed opinions. I was over at the park yesterday to pick up my tickets and the whole thing is fenced and tented. Very excited.

Album reviews!

This seems like a no brainer, but I'm anxious to share my thoughts on new albums from As Tall As Lions and Imogen Heap. The Used are also slated to drop an album so If I have time, I'll write on that. However, I don't think that will be a nice review. It's....well, less than stellar.

September! September!

Aside from the fact that I'll be seeing blink 182 twice in September (And turning 22. What's THAT about?), I just realized this is going to be an incredibly strong month in terms of music. Here are the releases I'm excited for:

Backspacer by Pearl Jam

The Blueprint 3 by Jay-Z

Brand New Eyes by Paramore

Break Up by Scarlett Johansson (C'mon, you've got to chuckle a bit)

Daisy by Brand New

Crash Love by A.F.I.

Endgame by Megadeath

Remastered versions of The Beatles' studio albums (A touchy subject for most)

The Resistance by Muse

Sadly, I was also looking forward to writing up Hot Sauce Committee, Pt. 1 by The Beastie Boys but I suppose that will have to wait. Here's to hoping MCA a smooth recovery and that the album drops this year.

With that, I leave you with Radiohead's recent performance of "These Are My Twisted Words" at Frequency 2009, simply because as my friend Trevor once said as he imitated me, "You know what's real kids? RADIOHEAD!"

Live: Green Day @ the HP Pavilion 8/19

It’s rare to find an established band that cares so much about their live show. At a certain point, groups usually find the magic in performing is gone, and they don’t mind letting their energy slack, their showmanship drop. It’s a common, if unnerving part of the live concert experience, but it’s a fact of life in the music world.

Thankfully, it was a fact of life that was absent from the HP Pavilion last night.

Bay Area rockers Green Day pushed through nearly three hours of music with blistering 3-chord aplomb, passionate singing, and a dazzling pyrotechnics show. The venue served as a perfect setting for the band, which served as intimate while still allowing for the stadium bravado of their latest album, 21st Century Breakdown.

Yet, the evening opened up humbly enough with Scottish rockers Franz Ferdinand. The four piece warmed the crowd up with their jangly take on Kinks’ inspired dance rock and kept fans quite engaged throughout. From the raucous dance hall thump of “This Fire” to the messy call and response of “Take Me Out,” singer/guitarist Alex Kapranos lead his group with his robotic delivery and gentile charm.

While Franz Ferdinand performed well enough, the audience was clearly hungry for Green Day, a sentiment made very clear by the wave of screams that emanated as “Song Of The Century” blared through the speakers. Then, as singer/guitarist Billie Joe Armstrong, bassist Mike Dirnt, and drummer Tre Cool all took the stage, pandemonium broke out all across the floor.

Beginning with the crashing riffs of “21st Century Breakdown” Green Day’s nearly three hour set covered much of the latest album as well as their 2004 rock opera American Idiot. Fans were treated to the grungy shuffle of “East Jesus Nowhere,” the athematic anti war rhetoric of “Holiday,” and the frantic hardcore of “St. Jimmy,” each one executed to perfection in an effort to outshine their studio counterparts.

Considering their incessant need to move around the stage, it’s a marvel how Green Day is able to keep their sound in check. Everything remains in perfect balance from Cool’s fluid drumming and Armstrong’s thick but brash guitar. Cuts such as the hopelessly romantic “She” continue to show that Dirnt has some of the dirtiest bass lines in rock, perfectly suiting Armstrong’s strong delivery. Touring guitarist Jason White kept up with the disciplined Berkeley unit with searing lead work his own, adding depth and melody to Green Day’s frenzied pace.

Still, it’s a feat to see Green Day still ecstatic about capturing the energy of these songs, and in many cases improving on them. While the first half of the show drew from their 00s output, but the second half brought all the fan favorites. From the crunchy “Welcome To Paradise” and “Basket Case,” to the sludgy “Brain Stew,” Armstrong’s snotty snarl made each syllable jump and each fan scream. It’s clear that nearly 20 years into their career, Green Day understand how to create a rapport with the crowd.

“Put away your fucking video cameras! We’ve gotta connect as human beings!” screamed an excited Armstrong before launching into a thunderous rendition of “The Static Age.”

Despite being near their hometown, it’s clear that Armstrong really tries his best to connect with fans during a Green Day show. Throughout the course of the set list, Armstrong brought up crowd members to stage dive, play guitar, or even sing verses alongside him. In fact, there wasn’t a song that went by where Armstrong didn’t attempt to make the crowd part of the experience, make them more than just bystanders.

Armstrong’s charisma extended beyond just shouting out the event’s venue, it exuded from him. From the way he’d hold notes just a little too long, or the anecdotes he’d share with fans, it was clear that Armstrong wanted fans to see these songs the way he did. Before launching into the propulsive “Murder City” Armstrong told the crowd about how he wrote the track, a mere day after the BART police shooting on New Year’s. Such tidbits are personal for the band, and it was clear that the audience appreciated Armstrong letting them into Green Day’s world.

The show picked up again towards the end. “21 Guns” arrested the audience with shimmering lead work as Cool’s military style drumming provided the song’s backbone, sparks and fireworks showering the band on stage. After a gritty and savage run through of “American Eulogy,” the band returned with the three song encore of “American Idiot,” “Jesus Of Suburbia,” and “Minority” as if to ask their fans to join them in expending just a little more energy.

Armstrong returned alone with an acoustic guitar for a sweet and somber second encore. While the show had reveled in Armstrong’s mile-a-minute theatricality, it was here that he pulled in audiences without so much as a word. Offering up bare acoustic versions of “Christie Road,” “Last Night On Earth” and “Good Riddance (Time Of Your Life),” it was clear that Armstrong had succeeded in his quest to connect with his fans.

Green Day may be an institution now, but it’s clear that the love they have for their songs and for their fans will always result in a live show that THEY care about. Thinking about it in those terms, it’s hard to imagine the band offering up anything less.

Thrice- Beggars (****)

How does a band follow up a 4-disc concept record where each disc thematically explores the natural elements fire, water, air, and earth? Well, you could go grander, offering fans a more complicated work to digest that keeps your work inaccessible.

Or you could be like Thrice, and strip everything back to its bare essentials.

After the last chapter of The Alchemy Index was released, Thrice spent some time on the road but quickly jumped at the opportunity to get back into the studio. The result is Beggars, a 10-song album that finds the band focusing less on being studio wizards and more on being an organic four piece.

Make no mistake, however, stripped back and concise do not translate into a sonic regression. In fact, fans of earlier Thrice works such as Identity Crisis and The Illusion Of Safety will find that Beggars has little in common those albums save for Dustin Kensrue’s sandpaper vocals. Instead, Thrice has opted not to experiment with lush and meticulously crafted textures, but with solid riffs and quirky rhythms.

From the opening pulse of Eddie Breckenridge’s lumbering bass on “All The World Is Mad” to Teppei Teranishi’s bluesy guitar noodling on “The Weight,” Thrice make it clear that Beggars is an album of songs, not symphonic statements. Instead, the album comes across as a song cycle that’s far more immediate than anything off The Alchemy Index. On Beggars, tracks are more concerned with groove, feeling far looser than anything the band has done before.

At first, listeners will be taken aback by how subtle the record is, and they should be. All the tracks here, especially the heavier ones, are constructed to be more intimate than bludgeoning. What that means is that Thrice has evened out their sound, pushing their delicate and soft passages together with a small dabbling of their discordant take on post-hardcore.

For a band that has spent two releases attempting to separate their sound into distinct parts, it’s refreshing to find them combining these elements in a fashion that seems effortless.

“Circles” is easily the album’s strongest track, featuring Riley Breckenridge’s fluttering drums as they ride fluid, shimmering guitar lines, and warm bass work. Kensrue’s somber vocals push the track into melancholy as the group’s rich guitar work begins to climb and soar. With smooth changes and seamless transitions, songs like “Circles” display a band that has developed into a group of great songwriters with each successful release.

Much like The Alchemy Index before it, Beggars finds Kensrue’s lyrics weighing weighty existential musings. Cuts such as “Wood & Wire” sport lines like, “Dead man walking down the hall/To meet a mess of wood and wire/Lead me to where mean fear to tread/Towards the thing I most desire…” giving listeners ideas and concepts that aren’t simply surface level hooks. Set against rich piano and hazy feedback, Kensrue’s lyrics remain poetic as he contemplates the humanity that comes from personal struggle. Elsewhere,

However, the album’s greatest strength is how well its overall concept permeates throughout all the musical elements. On Beggars, the guitars range from fluid to gritty, the bass fuzzy to full. No robotic distortion, no slick studio sheen. Thrice sound like a group of men making music rather than men displaying music that’s been tinkered and toyed with. There is a natural quality to Beggars, one that gives the songs soul and life when their parts seem simple and pedestrian. It’s a record that’s light on indulgence save for sparse piano here and there. Instead, it represents a band creating expansive arrangements and visceral movements using modest means, perfectly falling in line with the album’s muse.

Thrice expertly displays this on the album’s closing track “Beggars,” marrying messy feedback with fluid melodies against Kensrue’s bluesy howl. In one fell swoop, the band show the triumphs of man only go so far, but our unity stems from our humanity, “As you lie in your bed/Does the thought haunt your head/That your really rather small?/If there's one thing I know in this life/We are beggars all…”

In an age of auto-tuned theatrics, recycled pop compression, and expensive pro-tools worked sounds, it’s a breath of fresh air to find a record that revels in its simplicity. It harkens back to a time where the human spirit could find itself seeped in creation rather than putting out a product.

In that respect, Thrice should be proud, for they’ve achieved that revelation thorough the most basic of means.

Key Cuts: Circles, Wood & Wire, Beggars

Sounds Like: Ghosts I-V (Nine Inch Nails), OK Computer (Radiohead), The Joshua Tree (U2)

Click on the artwork to sample some of Beggars for yourself!