We saw The National perform with Arcade Fire back in 2011 at the UIC Pavilion. With seats in the upper tank and to the side of the stage, the acoustics and optics were predictably middling. Zip ahead to this spring, and through a Ticketmaster miracle we secured second-row seats to one of The National’s shows at the Chicago Theatre. Standing at the feet of Matt Berninger & Co., surely the acoustics would be stellar, right? Negativo. The vocals, in particular, were unintelligible. I’m certain that if we were positioned in the right spot, these guys would be acoustically spectacular. Next time we’ll strive for center stage, 20 rows back.
Silver lining: from Row 2, the rhythm guitarist sounded fantastic (as heard at the 1:32 mark in the video).
If you haven’t seen “Mistaken for Strangers,” Tom Berninger’s surprisingly brilliant rock doc about his relationship with his older brother, you should check it out. It delves deeply, and movingly, into sibling issues and the importance of never giving up on one’s brother or sister.
A friend and I were in New York last week, and we made our way to Chinatown, where we indulged in (forgive us) Thai food. Then we strolled over to Columbus Park and stood alongside a quartet of men and women who were making music. They played instruments I couldn’t recognize and sang in a language I couldn’t understand. These four individuals appeared to be north of 70, and I could imagine them performing this same music decades ago in the park. There was something about their discordant but appealing sound that reminded me of The Velvet Underground’s “Venus in Furs.” Maybe I drew this tenuous connection because I was in New York and Lou Reed recently passed away. Or perhaps I’m onto something. The Velvets influenced thousands of rock and roll musicians. It’s possible, I suppose, Lou Reed and his bandmates were influenced by music similar to what I heard in Columbus Park.
The last time Neko Case released an LP, I wrote a rhetorical analysis about the album art. With her latest release, an analysis of the labyrinthine title may be in order: The Worse Things Get, The Harder I Fight, The Harder I Fight, The More I Love You.
On the same night that Pearl Jam and Bjork performed at local venues, we did what (almost) any parents of a three-year-old would do: we opted for an easy five-minute trip to a nearby park for a performance by the Chicago Brass Band. What was the appeal? Free admission, ample space to unfurl a blanket, and easy access to a public restroom. The importance of this last point was underscored when the kiddo made an announcement toward the end of “Death or Glory” (listen for it at the 2:45 mark).
The accompaniment of cicadas provided a summery backdrop to this turn-of-the-century American march. The song, penned by Maine native Robert Browne Hall, is particularly popular in the UK but sounds nothing like The Clash track of the same name.
My wife and I celebrated our wedding anniversary yesterday, and the occasion motivated me to consider the many-numbered reasons why I’m thankful to have Pam as my partner.
Among the top reasons, I’m semi-ashamed to admit, is her willingness to tolerate — and sometimes even participate in — my half-baked schemes.
I’ve included the image at left as visual evidence of my wife’s good-sportedness. (Click on the image to view a larger version in a separate window.) For a project connected to my grad studies at DePaul, I needed to create a concert poster for a Los Campesinos concert at The Empty Bottle in Chicago. I had it in my head that I wanted the poster to feature a woman striking an empowered pose, so I asked Pam if she’d be willing to don sunglasses and a tank-top and be photographed while pulling back the string on an imaginary archer’s bow.
She’s a strong-willed and highly intelligent person, but she neither paused nor groused when I made this peculiar request. Pam went along with it, and it ended up being a fun and memorable experience for both of us. She didn’t even complain when I Photoshopped “You! Me! Dancing!” — the title of one of the band’s more popular songs — on her arm.
Is the poster representative of great design work? No. But it is an excellent visual representation of my wife’s willingness to humor me.
Thanks for tolerating and participating, Pam. And happy anniversary.
