Today I spent some time recording the Griffin Technology GuitarConnect Cable for iPhone, iPod, and iPad. I’ve always been a documentarian. If there was a way to record it, I’d do it. I have family movies far past the age that they’re cute, journals from when I was six, and songs. Songs I made with my friends when we were in high school. I’d record every practice, bum song attempt, and final product. But it’s all there. Rudimentary, because it really was just a computer microphone set up in the center of the room with Windows Sound Recorder. It’s also made me think about how things are done these days.

While software did exist, it was expensive and certainly wasn’t bundled with a home computer. I started taking guitar lessons again recently, so ideas for songs casually enter my mind. I’ve started a project as an attempt at taking power chords and finding a way to bash them together into recognition. Instead of buying a variety of amplifiers, I can plug my guitar into my computer and try out hundreds. I can take a simple sound and craft it into something else right from my bedroom. This certainly is no new thing, but it never ceases to amaze me when I sit down and tinker in GarageBand.

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YouTube has some early videos like a version of ‘Twice Today’ from March 2008 as well as some from Pete’s Candy Store that show just you and Jocelyn performing. How and when did the band begin, and when did Emily join?

I met Jocelyn at Pete’s Candy Store as she was there for happy hour and I was there for the open mic. We began working together, quickly wrote songs, and recorded 4 of them. About 4 months later we were at Sidewalk Cafe promoting a show we had soon and saw Emily and fell in love. We asked her to join, and she said yes, and we solidified our lineup.

Are you all classically trained musicians? If not, how did you come to playing your particular instruments?

Only Emily is classically trained. I took guitar lessons, but then just did self teaching, and just watch what other guitarists do. We tricked Jocelyn into playing her instruments, and she’s a good sport for learning them and mastering them so quickly.

Pearl and the Beard don’t really sound like anyone else. What artists influence your sound? Did those influences factor in when recording the new album?

I think we’d all say different things have influenced us, and have changed over the years. I know for me personally I am influenced by the things that are literally around me. Weird noises, or songs I sort of think I hear coming from cars, the shower, or whatever band I am seeing live.

As more people catch wind of what you’re doing, there are more faces at each show. How are you handling that? Is there a particular audience you’d like to cultivate?

Literally everyone is welcome. I’ve often tried to figure out our demographic, and guess who is at a show to see us, and I can’t, and I definitely prefer it that way. We want everyone to feel welcome and loved at a show, because at the end of the day, everyone deserves to feel like they belong somewhere and are loved.

You guys recorded for Daytrotter last July. It’s been almost a year and no sign of a release. What’s going on with that?

What IS going on with that? I have no idea. I recently saw that they put up Best Coast’s session, and that had been recorded over a year and a half ago, so who knows? Those guys record like 4 or 5 bands a day, so they have some backlog I’m sure. I’d write to them and ask for the session before those songs are too old.

The Black Vessel EP is a very interesting piece of Pearl and the Beard history. In a way, it’s sort of a mini “White Album”. There’s the group track, and then a solo track by each of the three members. Was this deliberate? Above all, it seems like a really creative way to peel back the layers.

Thanks. We wanted to release something in between albums, and didn’t want to put album songs on it. Since we are always writing, some songs work for the group and others don’t. We decided just to release something from each of us, since we’re all fans of each other.

Franz Nicolay was a co-producer on your latest record. How familiar were you with his work before you recorded? What was it like having him in the studio?

Working with Franz was great as was working with Dan Brennan, our other producer. We’d been familiar with both folks’ work naturally over the years, as each person is a musician. Working with them in the studio was awesome. Both were focused, and really supportive and gently pushed us to get better performances as well as offer new ideas to songs.

“Hot Volcano” is definitely a standout on Killing The Darlings. It’s always ripped live, but there’s something different about the recording and what you played at the album release show, so it begs the question: Where’s the kazoo solo?

We like to do it different each time we play it live. Kazoo doesn’t seem to translate as well over recorded material, and I think half of its charm is seeing it be played. We like to make it a little special treat for folks who come out to the shows. Just a little something different. Even each kazoo solo is different.

There’s a certain stigma of what a band is supposed to sound with relatively spartan instrumentation, and then you guys get on stage and have such an enormous sound. Is this something you’re aware of? Does the size or location of each show influence how you build your setlist or do you usually go through a particular set from city to city?

I don’t think any of us know how enormous of a sound we have. We are aware of the space we are playing each night and try to be respectful of each venue, so we don’t turn up to 11 in a room the size of an acorn. Every show is different. We vary on which songs we play and how many quiet versus loud songs, we think are appropriate.

Do you have any pre- or post- show rituals?

Usually before a show we like to connect with each other and give ourselves a hug, just to let each other know we are here for the other no matter who is out that, and for that emotional support. After, we usually just talk to people, pack up, and sleep.

What are your day jobs outside of the band?

Jocelyn is a freelance knitter, I bartend and do production work, and Emily is a full time cellist.

Finally, what are your favorite places to go in New York?

To bed?

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To learn more about Pearl and the Beard, find out tour dates and to hear and purchase their records, visit their website.

Interview by Brendan Hilliard

Through the years, they’ve gone from alt-rock afterthoughts to oh-no-maybe-not’s and evolved into unparalleled innovators of their craft. Whether it’s the man-machine tumble of OK Computer, or the heartbreaking disconnect of Kid A, Radiohead has made records that stand not only as critical achievements, but as unmatched classics.

Since then? They’ve stopped. It can be argued that they haven’t made anything nearly as impressive in over a decade. Amnesiac, released in the summer of 2001 is more or less a sister record to its predecessor, with songs recorded in the same sessions. It’s spotty at best. 2003′s Hail to the Thief was a return to guitar rock, but meandered and has left a small imprint. Four years later, there was “In Rainbows,” released with a week’s notice through a “pay what you want” system that shocked a fractured music industry. While the songwriting is strong, it suffered from flat production and lazy sequencing.

Radiohead’s albums are drenched in ambiguity and have always been geared by subtlety. They are not a group that cares much about hooks or riffs these days, as they did with 1995′s The Bends. Instead, they live in the abstract: grooves and textures. Friday’s release of The King of Limbs drives that home. Unfortunately, it’s colorless.

The album’s opener, “Bloom,” begins with a distant piano loop that melts into a series of blips and drum hits. Thom Yorke’s recognizable croon follows, but the song doesn’t seem to DO much. There’s a desire to hear this it build and crescendo, but the song refuses, staying firmly in the middle. And this is the problem with so much of the album’s material. It plays too much to the center and not enough to the extremes that Radiohead has excelled at. “Morning Mr. Magpie and “Feral” suffer from this same fate. “Little by Little” apes their OK Computer-era sound, but it sounds awkward, nestled in a collection of dour material.

Of course, there’s things to like with each of their releases. “Lotus Flower” is a slinky lead single powered by a gorgeous Yorke falsetto. “Codex,” a haunting piano ballad, is treated with care. The vocals are to the front, atmospheric loops sprinkled throughout, with a tasteful horn and string accompaniment to usher it forward. It concludes as a great addition to their catalog.

Still, Radiohead sounds bored. While it’s fair to assume that a band of their caliber has reached the point in its career where they’ve done everything they could have imagined musically, they must now face the challenge of keeping it interesting. Both for themselves and their listeners. This may very well be Radiohead reaching middle age. It may be painful, but they’ve got the drive to continue. It’s just now time for them to step outside of the realm of possibility and capture listeners imaginations once more.

This record bleeds familiarity in the squall of the guitars, wholehearted vocals and a post-punk rhythm section.  Which is not an insult to the Brooklyn-based trio, their impressive synthesis of the sloppy guitar rock that permeated the 90′s, with a punk
urgency layered with vocal stylings by singer/guitarist Joshua Davis Dillard that would make the crustiest Sunny Day Real Estate fan perk up.

The rhythm section of bassist Steve Pellegrino and drummer Kevin Colden get a nice showcase on “2020 Hindsight”. They’re a remarkably tight duo throughout the record, and on this track, the slow-burn quality fits the band perfectly. They maintain this energy perfectly throughout the song without predictably breaking into a loud
verse – chorus – verse structure.

The album’s best moment comes with the penultimate track, the grungy and reckless “No, It’s Not What You Think”. Frantic harmonics punctuate the opening seconds before it breaks into short, violent bursts. It’s got the same urgency and emotional insecurity of Pinkerton-era Weezer, complete with an atmospheric breakdown mid-song.

In an era that evolves quicker than we can document, it’s pretty special that homespun albums like these still exist. Heads Up Display’s ‘no-frills’ approach is refreshing, showing nothing beats strong hooks and killer riffs. Wearing your influences on your sleeve just might be cool again.

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Visit the website for Heads Up Display here.

10. River City Extension – And The Unmistakable Man

I’m tentative at putting this at the ten slot. This New Jersey based band has all the promise of the greats from the state of their origin, (Springsteen, et al) and so does their expansive debut. At the same time, they’re tip-toeing the line of obscurity. What I do know is this: From the anthemic “Something Salty, Something Sweet” to the morning after dizziness of “I Still Own A Bible” followed by the furious “Too Tired To Drink” show that this group has a ton of great ideas. Now all they need is focus.

9. J Roddy Walston and the Business – J Roddy Walston and the Business

Imagine Jerry Lee Lewis on speed, kicking out the piano bench, then taking a sledgehammer to the piano. That’s pretty much J Roddy Walston and the Business in a nutshell. These are jams designed to make you sweat. “Don’t Break the Needle” is a monster opener, “Full Growing Man” with it’s “Woo-oohs” and “Ahh-ahhs” is a glam rock mess-terpiece and “Brave Man’s Death” with it’s unforgettable chorus: “I don’t wanna die a brave man’s death/spitting gasoline/burning my teeth, getting salt on the fields on my past/and the sun’ll come down with a milky white flash/I’ll get my brave man’s death at last”. Sounds exactly like what you’ll want to listen to when the ship’s going down.

8. Arcade Fire – The Suburbs

I understand the reverence that many have for Arcade Fire. I’ve seen them live. It’s a moving experience. But on record, I don’t really feel it. Simply, they are a very good band that makes strong records. Have they done anything truly great? Yes. Funeral. Their second record, Neon Bible was several shades of grey and their offering this year kind of meets the middle ground between the two. There are things to love here, of course: the slow-motion run of “Half Light II (No Celebration)” the nascent punk energy of “Month of May,” and of course, the record’s crown jewel, “Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains)”. Timeless. While this record does sprawl, as two of the songs suggest, in some strange way, really works.

7. Franz Nicolay – Luck and Courage

Franz Nicolay’s songs are a gift. They reveal themselves over time. The album had little impact at first, but with repeated listens, it literally bloomed in my ears. What’s great about Nicolay’s songs is that they have this unforgettable emotional undercurrent that leaves a lump in your throat (see “Felix and Adelita” and “This Is Not A Pipe”). Then there’s moments like “My Criminal Uncle” that practically beg an “It’s Oh So Quiet” by Bjork-style video treatment.

6. Robyn – Body Talk/Body Talk Pt. 1/Body Talk Pt. 2

It’s hard to pick from Robyn’s 2010 output, mainly because there’s so much strong material. So, I’ll settle for bits from all of her releases. What’s so remarkable about Robyn’s Body Talk series is that there are bangers that other artists would kill to have once in their career. Here, she has almost a dozen. The classic throb and hook of “Dancing On My Own,” the infinite summer of “Hang With Me” and the distressed-future by way of nineties throwback “Time Machine”. That’s just three of them, folks.

5. Kanye West – My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy

No hip-hop artist has commanded the attention of his listeners like Kanye West. In essence, he’s peerless. There are artists that will dazzle you with their wordplay (Lil Wayne) or their production expertise (The-Dream), but neither can marry both of those concepts together quite like Kanye. With West, every album is an event. If you listen from The College Dropout, the stylistic leaps he’s made are Beatlesque. Fantasy is fully realized – nine minute epics that hinge on one piano note, star-studded guest verses (Nicki Minaj’s verse-of-the-decade nominee on “Monster”) and staggering reworkings of indie-folkie Bon Iver tracks. It’s all here in one giant stew. Everyone else, go back to your corners. Kanye’s got this round.

4. Glossary – Feral Fire

The little record that could. At it’s core, Feral Fire is a straight up alt-country record with a power-pop kick to the balls. “Lonely Is A Town” is a spitfire opener, with the sandpaper and silk vocals of husband and wife duo Joey and Kelly Kneiser punctuated by a guitar solo that would make Cheap Trick proud. These moments are abundant throughout, but be careful, the gentle “Hope and Peril”, sung by member (and sometimes Lucero slide player) Todd Beane – will stop you dead in your tracks.

3. The Hold Steady – Heaven Is Whenever

A sentimental number three, and likely here because I played the hell out of this summer. In a year where they lost Franz Nicolay and gained two auxiliary members, The Hold Steady got their bearings and managed to release an incongruent disc that just barely eclipses 2008′s Stay Positive. Gone are the trademark piano dramatics, and in place are a healthy dose of extra guitars. It’s not perfect, considering the seismic lineup change, this record feels very transitional. The band’s last two records seems like they’re yielding diminishing returns, but don’t count them out quite yet. Songs like the shimmering opener “The Sweet Part of the City” and late-era Replacements of “Our Whole Lives,” will do for now.

2. Titus Andronicus – The Monitor

Consider The Monitor as a call-to-arms more than a record. Titus Andronicus’s 2008 debut, The Airing of Grievances was an accomplishment in itself, but no one could have expected the mammoth they unleashed this year. Chock full of guitar heroics (pretty much ALL of “A More Perfect Union”) sing-along phrases – ‘The enemy is everywhere!’ ‘You’ll always be a loser!’ and a hell of a lot of bravado, it’s nothing short of perfect. What blows my mind is that the median age of this band is twenty-five, and they’ve already put their blood, sweat, tears and beers into a record so fully-realized. What’s next? There aren’t enough words. Gushing is the only thing that does The Monitor justice.

1. The National – High Violet

The one and two slots on this list are essentially interchangeable. But at the last minute High Violet eked out the top slot. For myself, 2010 was the year of The National. While I had heavily anticipated this record, I wasn’t prepared for the stranglehold I’d be put in by it. Way darker than I expected, I felt drawn to the little things – the unforgettable splash of drums in “Bloodbuzz Ohio”, the altitude change of the opening chords of “Lemonworld,” and the delightfully icky chorus of “Conversation 16″: “I was afraid I’d eat your brains ’cause I’m evil.” It doesn’t get better than that.

Most importantly it’s the soundtrack to my New York experience. It was with me on my move here in July and hasn’t left me since. Put this one on and stroll through the streets of Manhattan at night. Listen to it while taking the L into Brooklyn and get off at Bedford Avenue before walking through McCarren Park. With High Violet, everything sparkles just a little bit more.

So much has been said about Weezer – the limitless promise of their first two albums, the glacially slow fall that came with everything after. Still, there’s something perfect about those first two albums – how effortlessly they tap into something adolescent and pure. Also, there’s those relatable themes of being pissed off at half-Japanese girls and falling in love with lesbians, right?

Despite their countless missteps and pretty much all of “Make Believe,” Weezer knows that too. Nothing quite matches up to their first two albums. With a lead single from their latest mediocre album titled “Memories,” there was no better time to revisit their classics.

Watching “Pinkerton” unfold in front of me last night – every bit of tortured “Tired Of Sex” feedback to the final, gentle strums of “Butterfly” brought me eight years and seven hundred and fifty miles from where I was. Instead of being twenty-five and in Manhattan’s Theatre District, I was back in my room in West Dundee, wide eyed and unable to understand girls. Okay, so maybe not a whole lot has changed.

Obviously, there was a strong sense of nostalgia to the show, which was enforced by an incredible one-two-three punch of “You Gave Your Love To Me Softly,” “Suzanne,” and “Jamie”. I can’t help but think that it was a not-so-subtle wink at their long-suffering fans. Beyond all of this, I was more impressed by the audience that the show brought out – folks who probably attended Weezer shows when the album first came out, folks like myself who lived through their tortured middle period, and a staggering number of teenagers who were toddlers when the first two albums came out. I mentioned to one young guy that I had first seen them in 2002 when they were touring behind “Maladroit,” and he responded with “I wish I could have seen them then, but I was like, twelve.”

“Memories,” indeed.

It’s an admirable, albeit unsustainable idea. I’ve always dreamed of doing what they did, but never had the guts to see it through. It seemed on the whim, and one enormous leap of faith. Not much later, they were working and living in Papaikou, Hawaii, learning the basics of sustainable living.

More often than not, this lifestyle does not work out for most people. But Houses are not most people. After finally running out of cash several months later, they returned to Chicago, but not empty handed.. With them, they had a gorgeous snapshot of their time on the island, All Night, their debut on Lefse, due next month.

Rarely do I hear a record so elemental and effortless. Its title track is the sound of those first few moments of waking up on a spring morning while rays of sunshine bleed through the blinds.  Other moments are dewey eyed and bleary, like taking a long nap in the grass. Perhaps the freshness of these moments is best exemplified with “Endless Spring,” a glistening pearl where frontman Dexter Tortoriello’s vocals mesh beautifully with the sounds alongside them. The same goes for the harmonies provided by Houses’ other half, Megan Messina. This is consistent throughout: never once on the disc do their vocals feel put-upon. They’re just as organic as the field recordings they made in Hawaii.

These moments are bountiful on All Night. There’s “Soak It Up,” sounding devastatingly like a late Arthur Russell composition, “Wash,” with its deliberate rhythm would make David Byrne proud, and of course, the sweeping, resplendent surge of “Sleeping” and “Sun Fills”.

With that final fade, we’re back to the beginning again, if you see it that way. I don’t. It lacks a beginning and end point. It just simply exists. It was always there, just captured and put to tape at the right moment. That’s doesn’t happen too often in music, and when it does, like All Night, it’s something incredible.

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Houses – Endless Spring (mp3)

Houses – Soak It Up (mp3)

Tumblr: http://housesmusic.tumblr.com

Mentioning the album Tell All Your Friends to anyone who had a semi-serious interest in early 2000′s pop punk is sure to elicit a response that’s dually earnest and self-mocking.

Emo bands of this era are rock and roll’s feral children. Taking Back Sunday, who released the album in question, are part of a larger group of bands like Brand New and Thursday who shared the same reliance on angular riffs, obsessively wordy hooks and a penchant for inter-band and inter-scene drama that makes the Beatles breakup seem lazy. (For a more thorough history lesson, this explains the controversy surrounding the split and feuds the band had better than I could condense in a few sentences.)

The ‘classic lineup’ of TBS fractured only a year after the disc was released, and they’ve gone through a ‘Spinal Tap’ number of musicians since. For some reason, they reformed for a short tour and a forthcoming album this year. Fickle babies.

A confession: I’ve never listened to it. Until now. I don’t know why I missed it the first time around. I liked Brand New’s Your Favorite Weapon and Thursday’s Full Collapse, so it seemed like a logical move. It just never happened. I assume it was indifference or the fact I was way too caught up listening to Incubus and Dave Matthews Band and didn’t want to be bothered.

Times have changed. For the past few weeks, I’ve finally given a few hard listens to this totem. Let’s discuss.

“We were such magnificent liars,” sings Adam Lazzara. “So crush me baby, I’m all ears/ so obviously desperate/so desperately obvious.” That’s the sound of my sophomore year of high school, watching those girls – long haired waifs who wore Abercrombie and Fitch threads – transform overnight into thrift store junkies with choppy haircuts. Obvious. Desperate. Like them, it seems. There’s something uncomfortable about that notion. Like this song. Like those lyrics.

The layered, overlapping vocal style in use here has become a genre hallmark. A propulsive opener, but not exactly memorable. That shows up a few songs later, with “Cute Without the ‘E’ (Cut From The Team)”.

It’s my favorite cut on the record, with a late-80′s college rock jangle recalling faint memories of the Smiths. The sharp notes punctuate and break away to an anomalous chorus: ‘And will you tell all your friends/you’ve got your gun to my head?’. Silly, but it works. Lazzara and guitarist John Nolan exchange heroic vocal interplay, and it conjures a memory I never had: driving to Steak and Shake late at night in Lake in the Hills with the windows down on my red 1996 Ford Taurus. My friends and I would be shouting the lyrics at the top of our lungs before our milkshakes. When we were done, we’d go home and post snippets of lyrics on our LiveJournals among photos of Jordan Pundik.

There’s more of the same with “Timberwolves at New Jersey,” which, to my disappointment, was not about basketball, nor was “Great Romances of the 20th Century” about love. Well, a healthy love, at least.

Of course, these lead up to one unforgettable moment. One lyric to define an entire genre of music, and it’s right in “You’re So Last Summer”.

The truth is you could slit my throat
And with my one last gasping breath
I’d apologize for bleeding on your shirt

This is the moment you hit the water after being thrown into a pool with all of your clothes on. It’s shocking, uncomfortable and really wet, like the audience this song panders to. Also, it’s totally hilarious. At the time, the lyric was relevant to many disilliusioned teenagers, but as they’ve grown up, gotten over and moved on, the song has morphed from an anthem to weighty, melodramatic trash. If emo karaoke ever catches on, this is it’s “We Are The World” – well, that or any U2 song.

I suppose it’s this, really: Tell All Your Friends isn’t a bad record, but it’s not a good one either. Many mediocre genre records somehow transform into well loved classics simply because they refined the formula before others could. This is the case for Taking Back Sunday. They set the template for so many copycat bands to follow. Some are still chasing that dream too long after it can be taken seriously.

I can see why some may find that last statement unfair. I’m twenty-four. I’ve got close to ten years of music listening and analysis behind me. I’ve fallen in and out of love with many bands. Maybe I’m too old, and my moment with this record is eight years too late. If Taking Back Sunday were the first to the dance, then I arrived right in the middle of the last song, when I probably should have stayed home in the first place.

Eddie Argos and Dyan Valdes of Everybody Was in the French Resistance…Now!

Eddie Argos, the frontman known best for the three albums with his band Art Brut, has returned with another project titled Everybody Was in the French Resistance…Now!. The group, including keyboardist Dyan Valdes and Art Brut guitarist Ian Catskilkin, is on the road in support of Fixin’ The Charts, Volume 1, an album full of ‘response songs’ to tracks like Avril Lavigne’s “Girlfriend” and Michael Jackson’s “Billie Jean”. Eddie took a few minutes out of his busy day to chat with obviate before the band played Schuba’s on Thursday evening.

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I’m from Chicago, and it seems to me that with Art Brut has played here quite often in the past year – including that five night residency at Schuba’s last June. What keeps you coming back to the city with such frequency?

Well, we like Chicago a lot. We did maybe overkill it a little bit. What, we played Chicago eleven times last year? Five at the residency, we played the Green Festival, and then a few others. So yeah, we like Chicago. It was good to place the residency at Schuba’s, but the fact that I got to try everything on the menu, I quite liked that. They have a very nice french onion soup there.

That’s excellent. I saw you at Lincoln Hall last year. That was the only time we were able to get around.

Lincoln Hall? I like that venue. It’s the same guys that own Schuba’s.

What was the reason behind starting “Everybody was in the French Resistance…Now”? How did you choose the songs to write responses to?

I always write songs, really. I was in a car with Dyan [Valdes, Eddie's bandmate and girlfriend] and that song “Jimmy Mack” came on the radio? I’ve always had a problem with that song. I think I’m quite a bad passenger in the car. I was like “I love the music, but she’s so terrible! She’s such a bitch! She said she’s gonna cheat on the boy unless he comes home.” It’s inappropriate ’cause it’s 1967, and the Vietnam War, so I was kind of grumpy about that. I think I was in Dyan’s head a little bit, so she said “Look, write some words down, and we’ll record them when home.” So, I spent the rest of the journey writing the words in my head, and being quiet. That was the trick. It was just fun to write and record that song. Then we thought we could do more responses. It was a fun challenge.

That’s pretty cool. Was there one in particular that was most fun to write a response to?

I really like Elastica, and I like Bob Dylan a lot. So there’s songs on the albums because I liked the bands. For the one I don’t like, were kind of more fun to write. The Avril Lavigne one was fun to write because it was telling her she’s got mental health problems.

Are there any particular differences that you find between touring England and the United States?

Obviously, America is much, much bigger. Even in Europe – we just drove from Seattle to Minneapolis, which is like three days pretty much, that’s a lot of driving. There’s no way you can do that, even in Europe. You’d be out on the side of it. That’s different America’s my favorite place to tour, really.

I like the culture, here. I like comics. I like…food. I like hanging out. It’s a fun place to play. Europe is too. I don’t know. I just like touring America. I like the way it’s different as you drive across it, yet everyone speaks the same language.

Is there any city in particular you like coming to?

We do love playing in Chicago. That’s why we’ve played it so much. I kind of live on the…west coast now. I had to think about that. West, yeah. [Laughs] I do really like playing on the East Coast.

…Yeah, I mean Chicago mainly, and I really like playing LA, it’s like a hometown show. Those places. We played Madison last night. That was kind of fun, because was quiet.

Madison’s kind of an interesting town. It’s kind of in the middle of the nowhere, but it’s kind of hip. I’ve liked it whenever I’ve been there.

I liked it there, it was good. It was kind of fun.

I know you like comic books, and May 1 was “Free Comic Book Day”. Was there anything you were able to pick it up then?

I knew it was Comic Book Day, because literally every year on Comic Book Day, I’m in a van hundreds of miles away from a comic book shop. That was the first day we drove from Seattle to Minneapolis. There was no comic book shops in North Dakota and Montana on that route. [Laughs]. I didn’t get any comic books this year, or last year. I was doing the same drive last year. Or maybe different part of the world. No free comic books for me this year.

That’s really depressing.

I mean, I bought a lot of comics…I bought the new Flash comic. That was pretty good. I think I’m going to try to find a comic book shop when I’m Chicago tomorrow.

There’s a lot of good shops for that here.

I’ve bought comics in Chicago before.

Quimby’s is a good alternative one in Wicker Park, if you ever get over there. Indie comics and stuff.

Oh, I’ve been there. We did pretty much live in Chicago last year. [Laughs]. We’re playing in Detroit tomorrow. It’s only a four-and-a-half hour drive. So, I think we might have time to take a look about before we take off.

You talked about all the comics you do like, but is there one that’s been absolutely terrible?

I like Mark Millar, who wrote a comic I really like, Superman: Red Son, which I thought was brilliant. I thought because of that, maybe Mark Millar was a really good writer. Then I read Wanted. There’s a film with it too. That was pretty much the worst one I’ve ever read. I read Kick-Ass, and I really didn’t like it. I haven’t seen the film yet. I’m still undecided on Mark Millar. I really like Red Son, but I think Wanted is probably the worst thing I’ve ever read in any format of anything. Book, signpost. Just terrible.

So, you’re in a bunch of bands. I think I counted eight when I was doing my research? Other than Art Brut and French Resistance, what other projects do you plan to record and tour with?

I think my main bands are French Resistance and Art Brut. I’ve got a band Glam Chops, which is just fun, really, because I really like glam music, and everyone in that band loves glam music.

Do you have any upcoming plans with Art Brut at this point?

Oh, yeah, we’ve just started writing the fourth album. Ian [Catskilkin, Art Brut guitarist] is in the French Resistance now, so we’re going to try to write some of the album on this year. It should be out later this year or early next year.

Is anyone producing in particular?

Hopefully Frank Black again. We met him lunch the other day and he seems into it. I like to I’d like to do it with, you know, “Black Francis” again.

He must have been a pretty interesting guy to work with.

He took us out for lunch in his car. He’s got a great big Cadillac. It was loads of fun. It made me really want to start recording an album with him. It felt weird, we were just hanging out [instead of making music]. I want to start recording a new album for Art Brut now! [Laughs]

What is your favorite show moment you’ve been a part of, both as a fan and performer?

We played a college place somewhere, Philadelphia. It was like a weird… just, like, college…  We played in a basement and there was a secret stash of beer in the laundry [room] they’d all be drinking. At the end of the show, the entire room fell over. It was so packed in. Literally everyone fell to the floor. But no one got hurt, which was very funny. I think that was my favorite moment of one of our shows. Watching an entire room of people fall over.

Shows to watch? I really like when people talk in between songs. I could watch John Darnielle from The Mountain Goats in particular. I could watch him just talk. Something like that, yeah. Mountain Goats.

What are you listening to as of late?

Future of the Left, I like them a lot, I listen to that. All of us have suddenly gotten into the Super Furry Animals again. I love the Super Furry Animals. I don’t think they’re very famous here though. Do you know of the Super Furry Animals?

Yeah, but I haven’t spent a lot of time listening to them. But they’ve been on my radar, for sure.

I thought I had all of their albums, but there was like three I didn’t have. We listen to them when we drive. In the van, I listen to a lot of Led Zeppelin that Ian plays.

Which records?

I don’t know, it’s a long drive, I think he has all of them. [Laughs]

Yeah, the Dakotas and that whole thing – it’s a long drive. There’s just nothing there. It’s really boring.

Super Furries are good for a bit.

So, I know you’re a big Replacements fan. If there’s one song you had to hold in higher regard to any others, what would it be?

Aw man, that’s impossible to say! Maybe “Here Comes A Regular”? I love that song. When I first started listening to the Replacements, when I first heard that song, it made me cry a little bit. It’s really embarrassing. I was like, on the train to meet Dyan for lunch. Oh, “Bastards of Young,” they’re all good. I can’t pick one.

There’s a guy in Chicago, whenever he comes to see us play, he brings me like, an amazing Replacements thing. Tonight, he’s bringing me a bootleg DVD of when they played in Amsterdam in 1991. I can’t wait to see that.

Wow! Their last show I think was the “Taste of Chicago” in July of ’91. I thought that was interesting.

Yeah, they did this whole thing where like, the handed the instruments to their roadies, or guitar technicians so the whole set ended with an whole entire different band playing the stage. The Replacements had left.

It Ain’t Over ‘Til the Fat Roadies Play, or something like that.

I think I’m getting a CD of that. It’s weird, when we did that residency in Chicago, every night someone would bring me a present with a home recorded Replacements thing. Chicago’s brilliant, you know? Where else would someone bring you presents like that? It’s awesome.

The last week of the tour was probably the most fun I’ve had traveling to see The Hold Steady since I started leaving the region in summer of 2008. The band was incredibly, impossibly tight every night (I’ll admit, the addition of the new dudes left me having some doubts), but as soon as they kicked in with “Sweet Part of the City” that auspicious Tuesday night in Cleveland, it was GAME ON.

The song is a prelude. Think about it. “We were bored so we started a band. We’d like to play for you.” It’s a totally brilliant “welcome to the rock show” introduction.

Day 1

Cleveland, as attendees have previously reported, was a bit out of control. To point fingers – there were a group of kids (allegedly close to two-dozen) at the gig to celebrate their friend’s 21st birthday. No one really seemed to inform them that extreme, belligerent drunkenness pre-show may not be the healthiest decision for anyone. They didn’t respect personal space before the music began, which was the first issue, and the fact that they were openly antagonistic to bystanders was just too much. I can understand the lack of personal space while the music is going on, but before is a big no-no in my book. People were hit. There were the police. The band stopped. Craig said “It can’t possibly be worth it that much”. He was right.

Day 2

My first impressions of Pittsburgh: It’s a city with an east coast mentality featuring an impressive array of subcultures. To name a few: Hip-hop heads, crust punks, goth kids, indie rockers, and a hell of a lot of Penguins fans. I had plenty of time to people watch outside while I waited for doors to open. The venue, Diesel Club Lounge, was most certainly a dance club, and I couldn’t help but crack Wayne’s World jokes, as it reminded me of the place where Crucial Taunt played that revved-up version of “Ballroom Blitz”.

The show itself was certainly unique – a smattering of old jams and an abnormally high number of unreleased b-sides – “Criminal Fingers,” “Touchless” and for some, the why-isn’t-this-on-the-record WTF of “Goin’ On A Hike”. The first few rows of the crowd seemed to contain most of the jumping up and down and singing – while the back rows seemed to watch almost pensively.

Highlights of the evening – my buddy Whiskey Daisy finally hearing “Arms and Hearts” after close to twenty shows – totally special.Also, that ridiculously great steak sandwich I had at Primanti Brothers, post show. Oh my word. Steak. Cheese. Tomatoes. Cole Slaw. French Fries. ALL ON THE SANDWICH.

Day 3

The next morning, we headed for Morgantown, West Virginia. Our drive there was encumbered by an hour and a half long shutdown on I – 376/US 22 Monroeville. Turns out that there was a pretty bad accident where an SUV had flipped over several lanes of traffic. I found it easier just to blame the Canadian that was driving our car. Actually, that was our excuse for a lot of things that week.

Anyways: Morgantown. Very unique place. I made some cracks about meth-heads and Mountain Dew on Facebook, and got an earful about them before I got there. I now regret that. The show at 123 Pleasant Street (not surprisingly, on the street of the same address) was one of those tiny club shows that stick with you for ages. It was so small that rumor had it that there wasn’t a ‘traditional backstage’ area. The instruments were packed in so tight that Bobby had to jump over his drum kit to get behind it. My thoughts of this intimacy and closeness hearkened back to the Iowa City show at the Picador last April. The crowd was jacked that a band of THS’s caliber was in town, and everyone was excitable and great to be around. No brutality, just a lot of high fives.

These super small shows are where the Hold Steady really thrives. The energy is so concentrated and infectious and there’s an entirely different sense of togetherness compared to that at some of the larger shows.

A friend of mine wondered out loud if the band would play “Girls Like Status”. Some of us were skeptical. When the band unleashed in in the encore, it was great to see his face light up at the sound of the opening chords. It’s nice how things work out like that.

Day 4

Earlier in the week, someone mentioned to me “Jersey Mike? Mike Van Jura? That dude seems to know how to throw a party.”

Yes.

I remarked that I hadn’t been so excited for a music-related event since prom like I was for Harrisburg. That’s kind of the truth.

The family reunion vibe to this gig – the fact that so many US-ers had come in from all over the map and were mostly at the same hotel heightened the excitement. Jersey really pulled all the stops out for this one – the “Steadheads” flyers he dropped off in the hotel lobby – the “Stay Positive” symbol entrance stamp, the confetti cannon that didn’t quite work (no fault of his own). All totally silly and totally great ideas that led to the “THIS IS A BIG DEAL” feeling surrounding the show. We felt it. The band knew it, and they killed it.

To exhaust a tired statement: the bar band was back in the bar. It needs to be said. “Barfruit Blues,” “Most People are DJ’s,” and “The Swish” – all AKM era favorites, all perfect, sounding totally and completely infinite. Everything seemed to pop. (Download the recording of this show from the archive. Essential.) So sweaty, so much confetti, punctuated by a divine version of “Killer Parties”. Catching up with and meeting new people post-show was awesome. It makes me wish that more shows I attended were more like that. I’ll never forget that night. One for the ages.

Photo courtesy of Rich Tarbell

Day 5

New York was the perfect postscript to the storybook week that preceded it. Dually, it was the most ambitious day of Hold Steady show-going that any of us had undertaken. Why? It’s simple. Two shows, two venues in one night. One Hold Steady show can be a throughly exhausting physical and mental experience. Two, well, getcha’ Gatorade ready!

So, um, let’s call a spade a spade here and say that I’m ‘particular’ about when to arrive for shows. The fact that there were two shows at two different venues, (and that the doors for the second venue opened before the first show was even over) was a logistical nightmare. How could we possibly wrangle get close up for both?

By the time we arrived at Bowery Ballroom, I was shocked to see that there was a line of people that had arrived over an hour before us. I was astounded, and to tell you the truth, kind of impressed.

One of the guys in line got my attention immediately. A precocious young guy – ‘hollywasahoodrat’ on this board – had some seriously infectious enthusiasm. There’s no doubt in my mind that he’s the fan of the future – a total encyclopedia. One moment still has me rolling: During the J. Roddy Walston and the Business set, he turned at me after he saw bassist Zach Westphal’s trademark mustache and exclaimed, “Oh, that’s delightful!”. Absolutely perfect.

Oh – a note about J. Roddy – there’s something richly authentic about them. From the piano rave ups, the huge choruses and the totally unbridled sexuality of their performances. No matter which way you swing, you sense it. They creep up behind an unsuspecting audience and shake them until they’re a bunch of believers. There’s no reason even try to fight it. Drink the Kool-Aid. It tastes good.

Back to the Hold Steady – it’s astounding how night and day different the show at Bowery felt compared to the show in Brooklyn at the Music Hall of Williamsburg. The Bowery show was very relaxed and the crowd seemed to ruminate every note. It’s rare, but that crowd seemed like they were there to appreciate the music more than participate in it. That’s fine. The setlist was conducive to that, especially starting with a stellar “Positive Jam”, the pleonastic (and that is not a complaint) “Cattle and the Creeping Things” to the sedate roll “A Slight Discomfort”.

Not to give the false impression that the show consisted of slower numbers, but they seemed to leave the most lasting impression at the first event of the evening.

We made the decision to split before the encore of the first show. Let me tell you, there’s nothing like going from rocking at maximum intensity to turning on your heels, wading through a crowd, running down two back staircases in the venue then right out into the street. We somehow flagged down a cab in under two minutes, have him be apprehensive about going into another borough, then spending another three minutes convincing him to drive us to Brooklyn to the show at the Music Hall of Williamsburg. There was very little time to think about anything else then the task at hand. The five of us had a goal. Six minutes later we arrived at the venue, made it indoors, and to our amazement, found hardly anyone occupied the front area. At this point, you’re probably scoffing. That’s understandable. I don’t care though. It was a lot of fun. Another mission accomplished.

The Oranges Band opened up the second show, as they had all week for the Hold Steady. If you have not heard them, they are a really great, totally underrated group out of Baltimore. Lots of fun, hooky pop songs, including one called “Open Air”, that’s stuck in my head nearly two weeks later. Well worth checking out.

Just like that, The Hold Steady were suddenly on stage again to the strums of “Sweet Part of the City”. With the additional lighting on the stage and the energized crowd, it felt cinematic. I don’t know if the cameras there to capture the event were able to harness that feeling.

The set was peppered with old favorites – I’m assuming “The Swish” was there was a wink to the days when the band played there when venue was known as North Six – to unreleased tracks like “Goin’ on a Hike” and other nuggets like “Chicago Seemed Tired Last Night”. My favorite moments came with the flashes of guitar interplay between Koob and Steve. The synchronized solos during “We Can Get Together” were Allman-esque (that’s meant to be complimentary) and the the double acoustic guitars to start “First Night and “Citrus” were a nice twist as well.

With one more set closing “Hoodrat,” it was over. I don’t know what else to say other than what I already said above. It was an amazing week with some great music, excellent friends, and some nice new faces.

I can’t wait to do it all over again.