sizi’s Neighborhood

PB&J and El Perro del Mar ♥ photograph by Michelle

At Webster Hall, the perils of sitting in the VIP balcony often outweigh the perks. True, it’s the ideal place for a certified midget like me, and there’s a private bar and quasi-comfortable seating – but one must also put up with being asphyxiated by the many fog machines, the not-so-subtle orgies taking place on the couches, and that one skeezy guy who keeps trying to offer you a flask full of absinthe. (“It’s the nectar of Satan!”)

But last night the VIP balcony was the place to be since it was the location of a historic fist bump between me and Andrew W.K.

I already knew he was set to make a cameo during PB&J’s set, along with a slew of others, but I did not expect our paths to cross. I don’t know what compelled me to lamely offer him my fist the moment I saw him, but all that matters is that he returned it and all was right in the world. Then he left, and I immediately texted my 13 year-old brother, who soon lapsed into an envy-induced coma.

Anyway: PB&J. I have to admit, I was really there for opener, El Perro del Mar. I’ve become obsessed with her latest LP, Love is Not Pop, as it is the perfect soundtrack for long nights of procrastination. Although the crowd didn’t seem too familiar with her work, she won them over with her peculiar brand of melancholy dream pop. She stuck to songs mostly from her new album, including her mind-numbingly lovely version of Lou Reed’s “Heavenly Arms.” The absinthe guy next to us dismissed her as “vagina music,” but I was too distracted by my estrogen-fueled state of euphoria to care.

Swede-fest ’09 continued with PB&J, who announced that this was their 10^th anniversary tour. It was easy to distinguish who was who, as Peter was the one in the pink shirt, Bjorn was the one not in the pink shirt, and John was the drummer. It only got slightly confusing during the smorgasbord of cameos that took place throughout their set. Some made perfect sense (El Perro del Mar on “Young Folks,”), some not so much (an L.A. rap duo who remixed an unrecognizable song off of Living Thing). The final cameo was Spank Rock, who seemed like a solid addition to “Nothing to Worry About” but his appearance was much too brief and almost abrupt.

Obviously the most dramatic cameo of the night was Andrew W.K.’s “interpretive” dancing during “It Don’t Move Me.” He didn’t utter a single word the whole time, yet he left the audience virtually speechless. It was spastic and random but ultimately the best moment of the night.

As for the band themselves, they were in top form as usual. Since the last time I saw them in March, people have warmed up considerably towards their newer material and seemed to enjoy it equally as much as anything off Writer’s Block. The band eschewed slower stand-bys for faster, upbeat songs from their first two albums, and they ended the night with the infectious “Objects of My Affection.” I was kind of hoping they’d play the slow burning track, “Up Against the Wall,” but my friend told me not to be greedy. After all, one paradigm-shifting fist bump was good enough for one night.

J. Tillman @ The Music Box Theatre, Minneapolis, MN 11.6.09
+ abridged album review

J Tillman ♥ Music Box

Despite his minor fame with unpopular, critically-ignored Fleet Foxes, Josh Tillman has been active in the music scene since 2004.  This past September he released Year in the Kingdom, a 9-track odyssey through stoic mountain towns by way of moderate folk sensitivity.  Merely 28, Tillman evokes an image of timeless worldly servitude that befits his preferred musical genre but also confuses.  He acts the part in person—bearded, casually nondescript, a man of few words; yet once he hits that first note, it’s obvious there’s something judicious beneath the weathered layers.  For one, the quality of his voice is beautiful.  There is simply no masculine way to describe it.  The probability that Tillman drinks and indulges like a big boy is high, but you wouldn’t know by listening to him sing.  Perhaps the impressive facial shrub is actually a clever disguise, masking a sweet, even-tempered fellow who rescues kitties and bakes things for charity.  Doubtful, but my point being Tillman’s ambiguity—it’s equally believable that he wandered into town from the wide blue yonder as it is that he stumbled on stage from the local, artist-packed watering hole.

Year in the Kingdom remembers a simpler era that Tillman was not alive to experience.  Softer tracks cite 60s folk influences like Joni Mitchell, had Mitchell penned her songs in a humble log cabin, without basic comforts save for canned beans and a faithful canine companion.  The sparse “Age of Man” is a few twangs/few stringed instruments short of Americana territory, while “Though I Have Wronged You” reminds us that Tillman isn’t seriously concerned by FF comparisons.  At times matter-of-factly somber (“There is No Good in Me”), the album lulls its listeners into a false feeling of peace (albeit reflective, disquieting peace) that does not prepare the ears for the sheer force of Tillman’s live rocking.

Kingdom-the-album clashed awesomely with Friday night’s show at the Music Box Theatre in Minneapolis.  I now have a physical point of reference for the expression “it blew my mind,” as I’m pretty sure I lost a piece of my skull when Tillman blew my mind.  Similar to the structure of the studio tracks—gentle start, build-up, full instrumental progression—the show began as one would expect had they listened to Kingdom:  Tillman + band = traditional 3-dimensional engagement.  Then, maybe a third of the way into the set, all hell broke loose.  Cue roar of full instrumental capacity, skin-tingling whine of amped slide guitar, psychedelic transformation, and crazy apeshit thrashing.  On top of everything unholy, we, the audience, bore witness to grown men playing plastic recorders and finger cymbals. Surely I wasn’t the only one to lose some head mass by the end of the night.

Cerebral hemorrhage notwithstanding, strong tracks like “Though I Have Wronged You” sounded ridiculously swollen with intensity and deliberate flair.  Not showy, per se; rather, phrenic but perverted by foggy invention.  It was like walking into the Louvre for the first time—extraordinary but strangely unfocused, as if the senses were forced into overdrive.  Had I lapped a taste of Tillman’s sweat*, the experience would’ve been complete.  Unfortunately, there was no exchange of bodily fluids; there wasn’t even an encore (a mumbled “thanks” and the musicians made their hasty exit).  It didn’t matter.  How do you follow an act like yourself?

J Tillman ♥ Music Box, Minneapolis (11/06/09)

A few random thoughts without homes:  in high school, Tillman visited Crown, a conservative Christian college in St. Bonifacius, MN; Miracle Whip is the default condiment of Fargo, ND, this according to the band; Josh’s younger brother, Zach, opened the show and also played bass for the elder Tillman’s set.

J. Tillman is currently on tour in support of Year in the Kingdom.  Upcoming shows include stops in Chicago and New York.  For more information or to listen to select tracks, visit his Myspace at http://www.myspace.com/jtillman. 

* I’m not a creeper, promise.

Crypticon 2009 was a bit disappointing, compared to last year. As with last year's cancellation of Tom Savini, this year it's Charles Band. What upset me was that Band's disinvolvement wasn't even mentioned anywhere on their website. As of this writing, their website still lists Band as a guest: "6:00pm Charles Band and his Full Moon Road Show in the Music Room 2nd Floor."

This year, the merchandise room was reduced to a size of a large bedroom, so you walk in and out in about a minute. I did manage to pick up some stuff, but they weren't cheap. Celebrities prints are costs anywhere from $20-40, we weren't allowed to take pictures (if you did purchase a print, then taking pictures would cost an extra $5). Last year, most of the nicer stars let us take pictures for free.

As for merch, the usual bootlegs, toys, horror t-shirts were there, but because of the smaller room - it feels like there weren't a lot of choices. Some commonly seen t-shirts were Nightbreed and Hellraiser, which I thought were cool, since I have always thought Clive Barker is genius. 

Also, this year they had music as part of the show. The person that was supposed to give me a pass to the music area was not at the ticketbooth and I didn't feel like paying extra to see music. Besides, all of the bands seems to be either punk or metal, not really my cup of tea, so I didn't bother to make much effort in getting the pass. 

Anyway, since Charles Band wasn't there, his Q&A was replaced with Linnea Quigley and Don Calfa (both actors appeared in Return of the Living Dead). If I had known, I would've rewatched the film to refreshed my memory. But it would seem even the stars had some trouble remembering what happened on set. 

Still, some interesting stories came out of it. 

First of all, they paid George Romero a million dollars to use the name "Of The Living Dead".  Romero's third sequel, Day of the Dead came out a year later, but was not as successful as Return. 

My favorite was when Calfa said one of the star wanted him to punch him for real, so he gave two hard slap. What's funny was that as he was telling the story, his hand gestured the slap and the next thing you knew: he had hit the microphone in front of him! Way to each that mic a lesson.

With the disappointing cancellation, incorrect/false information (is updating a website too much to ask?), the smaller space, and expensive admission ($30 at the door) - this will be the last year that my group will attend.