I am the Fluid Master

Sure, it took me two hours to what was likely a 10 minute job for a professional. But I got it done. The toilet is fixed. (Paige even took it for a test drive after I finished. Her reaction--"Wow, what an awesome potty." Hear that? Awesome.)

Handy Manny

I am about to attempt to fix the toilet. It will likely not end well.

Legend of the Fall

The sun is nearly down and my heart is sinking a bit as well. I'm not ready for summer to end.

The Traci Manifesto?!

For ages, Traci has talked about having her own blog. She's already set up a domain, but has yet to actually post anything, believing that no one would be interested in reading it.

I would dare say that the biggest reason folks even bother to read this blog is in hopes that I'll mention something about Traci and the kiddos. So if you're ready for a Traci Manifesto, send some love to the comments box.

Stripping Down with Matt (& Kim)

Much Manifesto real estate has been dedicated to Matt & Kim. (Here's a link to all the back stories). So of course I was very excited to do a phone interview with Matt yesterday to promote their upcoming SLC show on Sept. 7.

As expected, Matt was completely friendly and cool. I haven't written the story up yet, but if you have a spare 18 minutes, you can listen to the entire interview here.

We chat about Bacardi commercials, anxiety attacks, and of course their naked romp through Times Square.

Matt & Kim interview was an hour and a half late, but worth the wait for sure.

Rock 'n Roll Updates

With all the producing hit singles about America's hat lately, I haven't had a chance to write about my recent celebrity interviews. I checked two more favorite bands off the list--Bad Religion and Bouncing Souls (details to follow)--and I'll be talking to Matt of Matt & Kim fame tomorrow. I should be able to get a David Bazan interview in November and then, if I can track down Millencolin somehow, I will have accomplished all of my journalistic dreams. Not bad for two years of writing for a little local paper.

I've got it all wrong

I've been writing to the wrong niche all along. Writing about my life, my kids, my love of beepy-boopy music is all wrong. I need to focus purely on hip hop.

My rage-inducing Eminem review has now topped 2,500 views. My blog post about Snoop Dogg had 200 views last week and my Vanilla Ice article consistently gets more hits than anything else on the Manifesto (save the Shauna Thomas story I wrote in 2006--still a search favorite).

So from here on out, the Manifesto is all hip hop, all the time.

Sutherland out.

Stupid Canada. I Hate You.

My long-time homie Rhett flew in from The OC and spent a few days with us. Other than a trip to a stirring nil-nil Real Salt Lake match and the injury-filled lunch at the Chuck, we spent all of our time writing and recording music. (Oh wait, we also watched a million episodes of Project Runway with Traci.)

I knew we would be recording a couple of Rhett's rock tunes and he said he was bringing some acoustic material as well. I was a bit surprised, though, by what came out of the guitar. Rather than a heartfelt ballad to his fiancee, we got this tribute to America Junior. (Rhett and I have opposing thoughts about our neighbors to the north.)

Beware: this will be stuck in your head for days.

Rhett McCaughey--Ahh Canada [MP3]

This was the only completed product, but we got down the skeletons of two more killer tracks. Keep your fingers crossed.

Chuck-Related Injury

I've been to Chuck-a-Rama twice in the past week. (I know. The best week ever.) But yesterday's visit wasn't awesome. Don't get me wrong, the food was great. But the second I walked in the door, I thumped my knee on a big wooden chair. I think it really affected my buffet-ing abilities and I'm still sore today. Oh Chuck, what have you done to me?

Oh, Paige Will Love This

Streetlight Manifesto just released this video for "Would You Be Impressed?" (The song's like two years old, but whatever.) From the very first second I knew this would be a Paige favorite. But with the murdering and all, I may have to keep this one to myself.

The Injured Reserve List

Traci's had a few injuries over the years. I remember the blackened fingernail that came from shutting her hand in the car door. There was the wounded tailbone from when she slipped on the stairs when she was pregnant with Curtis. But the current sore neck came from something completely surprising to me--gymnastics?!

We were jumping on a trampoline with our kids in St. George when Traci made an amazing announcement. She was going to do a flip. I've known Traci for a long time and she's never made mention of trampoline flips--and I even had a tramp in high school. I was even more shocked when she actually did it!

She landed on her back and now has a sore neck. I'm guessing the flips will go back into hiding. Bummer.

Redbox Reviews

I'd say Traci and I watch maybe one DVD a month. We make it to the movie theater about once a year. We nearly went into movie overload in Utah's Dixie.

Taken - I really liked it. Traci was thoroughly disturbed and hasn't stopped thinking about the teenage prostitution industry ever since. We both agreed that it was okay for the friend to die, because it was her fault for trusting a Frenchman in the first place.

Confessions of a Shopaholic - Don't get Traci started on the inconsistencies between the book and the movie. (She still enjoyed it.) I loved the cameo appearances by Detroit Pistons Bad Boy John Salley. I went out and bought myself a green scarf immediately after.

Knowing - Traci HATES Nicolas Cage. I only rented this one because I thought Traci's dad would like it. (It turns out he'd already seen it.) I knew I had made a bad choice when I was waiting for the DVD to vend and the couple behind me said sarcastically, "We could always get 'Knowing.'" I turned and asked if it was that bad. "We haven't seen it, but our friends said it was the worst movie they've ever seen. But you may like it." Turns out they had pretty smart friends.

I am Andre Agassi

The Pearson St. George adventure is all sports, all the time. Get up in the morning, play tennis. Then go swimming. Get showered up and then go golfing at 2 p.m. If all goes well, there's room for more tennis around 9 p.m.

Surprise, surprise, I'm very little sports, the majority of the time. But I made it a goal to get my tennis skillz together for this year's trip. So I talked my insurance buddies into helping me get into game shape. I practiced three or four times in anticipation.

All the practice paid off, as I had some serious game on the first night of St. George tennis. (I think the bats flying overhead really inspired me.) I held my own on day two as. By day three, unfortunately, all of my beginner's luck had worn off.

But it was a good start. Pearsons beware. Next year I will destroy you.

Carpet Swimming

.

In the end, Curtis wasn't really a big fan of the swimming pool. He normally loves the water, but all of our trips to the pool just kept getting in the way of nap time. He did, however, love scooting around the bedroom in Paige's Winnie the Pooh float.

Vacation Thoughts: No Motivation

I always have all sorts of plans to accomplish amazing things on vacation--i.e. writing/recording a new song in the 45 minutes while I'm in the condo alone will Curtis sleeps. As usual, it didn't work out. I did, however, get some reading in and a bunch of movie watching (details).

I read Eminem's autobiography, "The Way I Am," from start to finish yesterday. My review is short. Meh. It was generally unenlightening, with very little ground covered that hasn't shown up on the lyric sheets or depicted on "8 Mile." No insight on family drama, not even any details about the writing or recording process. (It was kinda "Dre and I started recording. We thought we had a hit, and it turns out we did. The end.")

So, if this is the next book in your Salt Lake County Library queue, go ahead and cancel the hold and check "Bring It On Part Deux" or something instead.

Moon Phases

This is now the fourth year of St. George trips for Paige. It's been her best yet. She can't get enough of the pool, and when she's not in the water, she's planted firmly in front of the DVD player. What could be better?



Curtis, however, is in the I-want-to-touch-and-then-destroy-everything-in-my-path phase and is driving us a bit crazy. We got to hang out a 1 a.m., 6 a.m. and then 6:30 a.m. this morning. He liked our time together much more than I did.

Missing Britton Johnsen?

Wondering where University of Utah and MHS basketball star is these days? The Las Palmas resort in St. George. Apparently, he's playing basketball in Greece and still trying to get back into the NBA. I didn't see him on the basketball court, but if his sweet moves from the diving board are any indication, he's still got some serious game.

I didn't talk to him myself. I figured he'd recognize from somewhere, but I'm sure he wouldn't remember my name. Traci said, "Why didn't you say 'Hi, Britton, remember when you used to cheat off me in geometry?'" I should have. I'm pretty sure I'm the only reason that Britton and big brother Jeff passed that class. And what do I get for it? Nuthin. But in the end, it's all the same--we're all on vacation in St. George in August.

Vacation Thoughts: Day I

Today we head off for our annual Pearson family vacation to sunny St. George. (yes, right smack in the middle of the summer heat. That's what we do.) We just finished packing the car and I suddenly have a new understanding for my father, who was already irritated and angry by the start of every single vacation.

The time between waking up and actually get on the road is the worst, especially when your entire house has to come along. All the planning goes right out the window, everything that was ready now isn't, and everyone is nice and upset with each other.

St. George, here we come!

Sweet Dreams

We survived our first overnight trip to Grandpa's ranch since the advent of Curtis. We generally just make a day trip out of it, as to avoid all the extra packing and worry that comes with sleeping in a foreign locale. But we figured it was time to give it a go.

Paige had a great time looking at the stars and running around with glow sticks and her cousins. So hooray for nighttime.

The kids slept fine, which was a blessing. Traci and I, not so much, thanks to Curtis's incessant rustling in his Pack 'n Play. I knew sleep was entirely out of the question at about 4 a.m., when I could hear a rodent scratching at the baseboards beneath my bed. Knowing that I'm an open-mouth sleeper, the visions of a mouse crawling into my mouth repelled all visions of sleep.

Fortunately, come sunrise, my mouth was still mouse-free. Phew.

Concerned About the Decline of Western Civilization?

Curtis clearly is. Just look at that face.

Why Do We Pay for Pre-School?

Paper pirate hats, obviously.

Progress Report

When I said that the new Johnny Tightlips album would be done any day now, I knew I was lying. But I have made some decent progress as of late. All of the drums tracks are recorded, save our lackluster cover of "Blitzkrieg Bop" and a few other covers, and the bass tracks are done as well. Guit and vocals are almost all-the-way done for one track (our newest song) and will hopefully be mixed (and posted!!!) shortly.

On a related note, I'm proud to report that I sold enough CDs on eBay to afford to buy a new version of (recording software) Cubase. This edition has pitch correction, which will allow me to, at worst fix my missed notes, and at best sound like T-Pain. Awesome.

Say It Ain't So

What happens when you combine my two favorite things--8-bit music and Weezer tunes? I become a very happy boy. If you don't know what 8-bit music is, this will be a great introduction for you. If you don't know who Weezer is, well, you're an idiot. There, I said it.

The full album is available for free download here.

Hooray for Pearl Jam

Finally, a post-1994 Pearl Jam song to get excited about. "The Fixer" is surprisingly soft-hearted and perfectly poppy. Sounds like the band's been listening to some Paramare. Yes, Eddie Vedder has been reinvented as a 15-year-old girl. I love it.

Pool Talk

The Sutherlands took their first family swimming trip of the year on Saturday night. This is was Curtis's first time at the pool (excluding his infant days) and Paige's first chance to show off her swimming lesson skills.

Not surprisingly, Paige can't swim. But she does like to stand up and walk through the shallow end, moving her arms as if she were swimming, and repeat, "I'm swimming! I'm swimming!" Thank you, Murray City for giving our child a false sense of confidence.

Whatever. At least the kids had a good time. Apparently, Traci did as well. Here's an excerpt from one of her monologues of the evening:

I'm officially the whitest person here.
And I'm fine with that.
I have red hair.
It's only society that says I need to be tan.

Maybe it's not Murray City that's giving Paige her confidence, maybe it's her mother.

Traci Was Right...But We Knew It All Along

Sure, I had my doubts. The second I opened the email from Snoop, I had the feeling I'd been duped. But come 'on, what's the fun in that? Isn't it better to just go a long for the ride sometimes?

Today SL Trib music writer David Burger posted the article from his email interview with Snoop. One quote seemed to stick out:

"I go in tha booth and I get it done. Clark Kent ain't got nuthin' on me. Ya dig?"

That sounded similar--or rather, exactly the same--as a quote he gave me. Coincidence?

Friend of the Manifesto, Josh Ligairi, said it best:

"Sorry, man. That is the only reason I can see going with the email interview. My guess is that he has about fifty canned answers for his fifty most FAQ and then an intern mix and matches to complete the interview. No offense to Mr. Broadus, but I could tell from his first video with Dre that he wasn't to be trusted. Also, as a married man I have to tell you--when in doubt, always go with the wife."

So I'm disenchanted, disillusioned, disappointment. Tha Doggfather has let me down.

He's Behind You, He's Got Swine Flu

I spent the day at home, having swine flu. No, not really. Just a fever and the chills. This was very inconvenient on the day when Gieger the Ukrainian came to clean out our air ducts. How are you supposed to tell if your air conditioner is working better when you already feel like an icicle, or when you're literally sweating through a game of Dora Memory with your daughter (may be the sweating was actually due to the high stakes of winning the most matches)?

The Streets - He's Behind You, He's Got Swine Flu

Who You Gonna Believe? Traci or Snoop Dogg?

Traci doesn't believe that my email from Snoop really came from Snoop. Sure, anyone in his entourage certainly could have typed the note as if they were the D-O-Double-G. But I have no reason to disbelieve Mr. Dogg. He's never let me down before. Plus, he called me "neffew." That's certainly not as close as "son" or "bro" but it's still pretty good.

Latest Rock Interviews

I've been doing a bunch of phone interviews with bands lately, with mixed results.

Death Cab For Cutie



I was very excited for this interview, even though it was with the drummer (the lowest in the band interview hierarchy). I was so excited, in fact, that I was two hours early. I still struggle with time zone conversion. Jason McGerr was plenty affable, even though I'm pretty sure he thought I was a crazy fan when I told him I was two hours early for the interview.

Check out my article here.

I was surprised and disappointed when their press person didn't come through with tickets for the show. But apparently I didn't miss out on much. I guess I'm not the only one who thinks Death Cab kinda sucks live. (Or rather, they suck when they try to be too much of a rock band. They were great when I saw them back in 2004.)

Incubus

I've never listened to an Incubus album, so I was even more nervous for this one. I talked to DJ/keyboardist Chris Kilmore (DJs rank even lower than drummers). The fact that I didn't know anything about the band wasn't much of an issue, as we spent our time talking about DJ Jazzy Jeff.

Here's the article.

The Dear Hunter

Their press agent was begging the magazine for an interview. I said I'd do it because I vaguely recalled listening to one of their albums once. It turns out I had listened to the indie band Deerhunter, not prog-rock opera creator The Dear Hunter. Whoops. Fortunately, Mr. Dear Hunter was friendly enough.

Dear Hunter article

An Email From Calvin Broadus

1, 2, 3-and-to-tha-4, I got just about as close as I ever will to Snoop Doggy Dogg (or Dr. Dre) knocking at my door. I still remember walking to the mall to buy “The Chronic” on cassette, listening to it over and over on my walkman, and hiding it under my mattress so my mom wouldn’t find it. So of course I jumped at the opportunity to do an interview with Tha Doggfather himself to promote his upcoming show in Salt Lake.

There were a million questions things I wanted to ask him about—his fallout with Death Row Records, his friendship with Tupac, his foray into the adult entertainment industry. But alas, I was thwarted. His press agent dropped the following knowledge:

1. Snoop is only doing email interviews
2. I was not to ask about his personal life
3. He may or may not actually respond to my questions

Though I was certainly a bit disappointed to not actually get to talk to him, I followed the rules and emailed him some generic, tour-related questions. To my delight, he did in fact response (and even ahead of schedule). Because the spelling looks like it came right out of his patented “Shizzolator,” I decided to leave it as-is.

ME: A lot of hip hop artists shy away from touring, but you're always on the road. What is it that keeps you touring?

SNOOP DOGG: Tha fans. Tha money. If u ain’t got a show, u ain’t an artist and if u ain’t got a tour, u ain’t makin’ money. If u ain’t makin’ money, u don't have a fan base. It’s a math equation and I'm solvin’ it.

ME: How was the Bonnaroo show?

SNOOP: I'm goin bacc next year. That's all I gotta say about that, ya dig?!? Chuuch!!!

ME: What's the Snoop Dogg festival experience like?

SNOOP: Party. Worth every dollar. Classic music. It’s tha present day hip hop Woodstock. It’s tha party of all parties and we do it tha best with tha help of Dogg Pound and Tha Snoopadelics. Shout out to Slightly Stoopid and Stephen Marley.

ME: Do you have any pre-show routines before you go on stage each night?

SNOOP: Listenin’ to timeless music and get my mind right. Maybe beatin’ one of tha homeys in Madden on Xbox or NBA 2K. Those are tha 2 favorite video games of tour. Fight Night, too!

ME: You're always multi-tasking—reality shows, movies, clothing. How do you find time to do all this stuff in addition to recording and touring?

SNOOP: I'm Snooperman—I go in tha booth and get it done. Clark Kent ain’t got nuthin’ on me.

ME: Next to music, which of your other endeavors brings the most satisfaction?

SNOOP: Tha Snoop Youth Football League—over 3,000 kids and gettin’ bigger and better each year. I coach tha Pomona Steelers and we are bacc to bacc Snoop Bowl Champs, hosted at the Home Depot Center each year in December. It’s an event that's puttin’ alotta smiles on these kids faces and that's what's most rewarding and enjoyable. You can't beat that or outsell that.

ME: Luckily for us, Utah has been a frequent stop for you over the last few years. Have you had any memorable experiences here?

SNOOP: Every time I come here I have a blast and imma continue to come here and do tha same thang, ya dig?!? Make sure u there to see it, neffew.

Vic-tor-y.

It was a miracle I was even able to snap this pic, what with the miraculous speed in which the subject flew by.

After a decade of saying it, Traci finally did it--running her first 5K at this year's Murray 4th of July Parade. With the help of my sister Sarah, Traci was able to take a respectable 488th place. You best watch your back, Usain Bolt.

The Evil One

Over the last few weeks, Curtis has gone from being the quiet one, to the one who is constantly shrieking, biting, and being generally malcontent. He pulled a new, sneaky move at church on Sunday.

I was sitting between Traci and Paige, with Curtis on my lap. The second we all shut our eyes, Curtis reached over and pulled Paige's hair and then turned to the other side to smack Traci in the face.

He's been so ornery lately that we thought he may have yet another ear infection. I took him to the doctor yesterday. After checking him out, she said everything was fine and that "sometimes kids are just ornery." How's that for a prognosis/diagnosis?

Keep My Puffy Pants in Storage

No need to worry about losing me to Hollywood...yet. Last week's episode of Hammertime on A&E was in fact about The MC Hammer/Vanilla Ice show in Provo. However, I was not featured on the show. (I watched it twice to make sure.)

It was weird, but cool to watch a filmed version of a show I saw in real life. (I don't remember it being as spectacular as the TV edits made it out to be.) Watch the full episode here. It's episode #3.

This Week's Music Reviews

Albums

The Lemonheads - Varshons. Only interesting for established fans.
Iron & Wine - Around the Well. A b-sides record that's better than most A-sides.
So Many Dynamos - The Loud Wars. Emo boys meet prog.

Interviews

Laura Gibson - For those who love trees and girl music.
The Dear Hunter - For those who love dungeons and dragons.

Message to Tha Doggfather

Um, I just sent an email to Snoop Dogg. He's coming to town on July 20 and IN was able to track down a press contact for me. Mr. Dogg is only doing email interviews. This is relieving because, though I'd love to have the experience of talking to him on the phone, I'm sure the anticipatin/stress of it would have killed me.

I had a bunch of things I wanted to ask him, however, I was instructed "please keep them related to the tour and avoid asking about his personal life (or they won’t get answered)." I was also told that, regardless of what I asked, he may not get back to me. So, we'll see, I guess.

New World View

A few of Paige's truths were shaken during our weekend trip to the ranch.

1. To protect his sensitive paws from the rough terrain, Jenny's dog was wearing "doggy shoes." Paige's response: Dogs don't wear shoes!!!

2. A sheep herder was driving his fourwheeler around with his sheep dog standing on the back rack. Again Paige exclaimed: Dogs don't ride motorcycles!!!

3. She also learned that while keyboards are generally awesome, it's not cool when your little brother smacks you in the eye with one. In my mind I heard her say: Keyboards don't double as attack weapons!!!

Music Reviews Monday (on Wednesday)

I reviewed new albums by Rancid and Bowerbirds this week. I'm posting my full Phoenix review here because I think this is an album you should really check out.




Phoenix
Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix

On the opening track of their fourth album, French quartet Phoenix name-drops 19th-century composers like it's hot. Hey, whatever gets the party started, right? The record begins like an open invitation to the indie dance floor. "1901" has all the jangly guitars and fuzzy synths and "Fences" has the requisite disco beats and falsetto vocals.

However, the album is not just about booty shakers. "Love Like a Sweet Sunset Part I" is a slow-building instrumental shoe gazer and its sequel, "Part II," adds soft, lyrical melody and Thomas Mars' hopeful tenor.

The rest of the tracks throw in a bit of everything -- swelling orchestral grandeur, driving bass lines, and bright vocals. Over the album's 10 tracks, the band never misses a beat. This is easily one of the most enjoyable releases of the first half of 2009.

Stream Most of the the Album Here

For fans of: Rooney, Air
Rating: 3.5 of 4

Summer School

Prayers are answered. Paige loves preschool. (It's tough to say how much of that can be attributed to the chance to wear her Dora backpack.)

Evil Genius

The deceptively sneaky one is now walking. Every day he goes a few steps further, almost always with his hands straight up in the air.

Product of Her Parents

It's my fault that Paige walks around singing "Around the world, around the wor-uld, around the world, around the..."

I'm guessing Traci is the reason Paige rides her trike down the street, and--before she turns back around--pulls her books out of the little basket on the handlebars and reads for a while.

Lesson Learned & Naked in New York

Speaking of censorship, Paige would probably be upset if she knew I wasn't sharing the new Matt & Kim video with her. I'm withholding it for two reasons:

1. The fact that the whole video is Matt & Kim walking naked through Manhattan.

2. Kim is so dang muscle-y.

I can barely handle watching the video myself due to reason #2. But if you decide to check it out, stick around for the ending.

I did put "Lessons Learned" on Paige's last mixtape, so she's happy enough.

No More Gwen Stefani

I'm now in the business of making mixtapes for Paige. One of them features an edited version of "Hollaback Girl." I've noticed Paige was getting better and repeating lyrics when I heard her singing "The shhh is bananas, B-A-N-A-N-A-S." No more "Hollaback" for three-year-olds.

Day Two

Today is the real test. Any kid can survive her first day of preschool. But will she go back for a second? We'll find out shortly...

Welcome Back, Zack Morris

Traci's least funny friend hit a homerun by sending her this link (I'm just kidding, Katie Hutchison Irion, you're plenty funny) of Mark-Paul Gosselaar on Jimmy Fallon. He does the entire interview as if he were still his character from Saved By The Bell. Welcome back, Preppy.

Review-a-Rama

Since I know that 95 percent of you skip right over anything I post about music, I'll keep this short. I review at least three new albums every week for IN. If you're keeping track, that equals a buttload of music. Here are some links to the last few weeks of reviews:

311 - Uplifter
Eels - Hombre Lobo
Taking Back Sunday - New Again
Green Day - 21st Century Breakdown
The War on Drugs - Wagonwheel Blues
Jimmy Eat World - Clarity Live
Telekinesis - Telekinesis!
Ben Harper & Relentless7 - White Lies for Dark Times
The Aggrolites - IV
The Rentals - Chapter 1: The Story of a Thousand Seasons Past

311 Fans Don't Hate Me

My 311 review is once again atop the Google search. However, no one seems to care. Just over 200 views in two days (which is still pretty good) and no hate mail. What's up with that, 311 fans?

Success!

Paige completed day one! Right now she's at Arctic Circle celebrating the big accomplishment. After she gets done climbing up and down the french fry-encrusted playground I expect to hear a first-hand report.

This Kid

Is going to her first day of preschool this morning. Please cross your fingers that it goes well.

(Picture courtesy of Tim's fancy new camera)

Music For A Monday Morning

It already been a rough start to the new workweek. Here's what I've been listening to to get me through it.

Buy Me on Amazon for $5.95

Like any good American, I spend my free time Googling myself. Today I found that you can buy an article I wrote four years ago for Utah Business Magazine. Weird. It costs six bucks, but here's the deal, I can give it to your for free.

CD Review: Strung Out Prototypes & Painkillers

Strung Out
Prototypes and Painkillers

So Cal punks Strung Out give fans much more than just the odds-and-ends on this compilation disc. In addition to old demos and cover songs, “Prototypes and Painkillers” makes a home for 17 year’s worth of material that has ended up on various split 7 inches, Fat Wreck Chords samplers, and limited edition CDs.

Had the band been a bit more discriminate in their 25 song track listing, they easily could have put out a 12-song album to rival any of their studio releases. As it stands, the record has plenty of polished moments, while still showing just how far the band has come since their early days.

“Protypes” also shows how many great songs the band wrote in the early 2000’s. Standout tracks “Don’t Look Back,” “Your Worst Mistake,”and “Lost Motel” all came from the “An American Paradox” sessions. The album also features a very impressive acoustic reworking of “Velvet Alley” from “Paradox.”

Though is album is intended for long-time fans, there’s plenty for those Strung Out newcomers to get excited about.

Strung Out - Lost Motel

For fans of: 10 Foot Pole, Guttermouth
Rating: 3.5 of 4

CD Review: The Thermals Now We Can See

The Thermals
Now We Can See

What’s awesome about the Thermals? Oh, so much. Hutch Harris’s deadpan vocal delivery and pounded power chords. Kathy Foster’s 1-2-3-4 drums and cool synth lines. And most of all, the band’s youthful irreverence.

What’s wrong with “Now We Can See?” The passion seems to be missing. Though the songs are pretty good, they are devoid of the righteous rebellion that makes The Thermals so great. That’s not to say this album is a throwaway. “I Let it Go” and “Now We Can See” are great, catchy tunes. “When We Were Alive” is a fuzzed-out punk rock gem and “When I Was Afraid” is perfectly moody.

Harris’s lyrics also continue to impress. One of the highlights comes on “When I Died,” when he sings “The earth was too hot/The air was too thin/I took off my clothes/I took off my skin/I crawled to the sea/That was calling for me.”

But much like tracks “At the Bottom of the Sea” and “Liquid In, Liquid,” the album struggles under a heavy weight of resignation. Let’s hope these 30-year-olds get over their musical midlife crisis.

The Thermals - I Let it Go

For fans of: The Hold Steady, Against Me!
Rating: 3 of 4

CD Review: NOFX Coaster

It's been a long time since I've subjected you to album reviews. Here comes a bunch.


NOFX
Coaster

I like NOFX for the same reason I get sucked into CSI:Miami—even if you only check in once every couple of years, the story still makes sense. You get an hour of entertainment and then you’re free to get on with your day.

With their 13^th studio album, the band also celebrates their 25-year anniversary (and encourages fans to use their CDs as coasters). This NOFX episode is all about singer Fat Mike’s raging alcoholism and drug abuse. Fortunately, these addictions haven’t dulled his razor-sharp wit. He jokes about going to the bar at 6:00 a.m. (“First Call”), forgetting all the good times (“I AM an Alcoholic”), and asking Tegan or Sara (he’s not sure which) where he can score pills (“Creeping Out Sara”).

The rest of record contains standard NOFX fare—hating corporate America (“We Called It America,” “Suits and Ladders”) and Jesus (“Blasphemy,” “Best God in Show”). There is, however, a rare moment of sincerity (“My Orphan Years”) when Fat Mike laments the passing of his parents.

After 25 years, NOFX are enjoying the best of both punk rock worlds—musically they’re tighter than ever and socially they still act like 15-year-olds. Here’s to another quarter century!

NOFX - Creeping Out Sara

For fans of: Lagwagon, Pennywise
Rating: 3.5 of 4

Today in Music

I'm listening to new albums by Strung Out, NOFX, and The Thermals. Lots of good moments. Reviews to follow.

Here's a little preview:

Pretty Fly (For a Radio Show)

Here's a sneak peek at my review for IN of the Offspring's performance at the X96 show.

The Offspring
USANA Amphitheatre
May 29, 2009

The Offspring just don't get no respect. They've never been cool like Green Day or teenage heartthrobs like Blink 182. (This could certainly be due to tracks like "Pretty Fly For a White Guy" or singer Dexter Holland's awful braided hair in the '90s). But the reality is that they've consistently churned out hit after hit for 15 years.

This was made abundantly clear at USANA Amphitheatre Friday night. The set list played like a greatest hits album as the weathered So Cal punks blistered through fan favorites past and present.

The foursome opened up with 2008's "You're Gonna Go Far, Kid" and 1994's expletive-filled sing-along "Bad Habit" and didn't slow down for the next 30 minutes—when Dexter Holland made the only rockstar indulgence of the night, rolling out a piano for a solo performance of "Gone Away." (Though it was a nice change of pace, it was far from a masterful reworking of the great song.)

The biggest chunk of older songs came from 1998's "Americana," including "Staring at the Sun," "Pretty Fly," and the album's title track. But the band was not afraid of busting out new materials as well. In addition to "Go Far, Kid," the band rifled through "Hammerhead," and "Kristy, Are You Doing Okay?" all of which were show highlights.

The show's best moment, however, came when every person in the crowd shouted along to every word to "Self Esteem," the most popular song to ever use the word "dweeb." Who would have thought that song would still be so good after 15 years?

It was hard to find a bad moment during the hour-plus set. It's easy to see why this band has been so popular for so long.

U Can't Touch This

Traci got me all excited by reminding me that The Hills season (and Lauren) finale was tonight, only to find that it hadn't DVR'd. Boo. But now I'm happy again because I just saw a commercial for MC Hammer's new reality show "Hammertime."

When Hammer performed at UVU a few months ago, he had an entourage of camera folks with him, filming for the show. Cross your fingers that I make an appearance, as I did sign I waiver when I was filmed telling him "great show."

Am I Gay for Lil Wayne?

The Eminem hatred seems to be dying down, but views are still going up. Over 1,500 now. While I'm doing okay with all the jabs, I am quite confused. I can discern the anger in each of the comments, but I have a hard time deciphering the actual meaning of most sentences. Should I be having (or did I already have) some sort of adult relations with Lil Wayne or Kanye West? If so, is that because I like Eminem or because I don't? I think that Lil Wayne needs a bath, but Kanye West seems to have tip-top grooming. So, you know, whatever.

Dear Shady, Thanks for Sending Your Rabid, Poor-Spelling Fans

I don't really understand techmology, but somehow my review of Eminem's new album was the top search result on Google this morning (Search for "eminem relapse review." My IN article now shows up second). So thanks to Google, a review that would normally get 100-ish views in a week, has had nearly 800 views in one day. More interesting are the rabid, poorly spelled comments, calling me the worst album reviewer ever. I guess that's something.

Music-Free Monday, er, Tuesday

Yesterday, I went the entire work day without music. Zero. No iPod, no imeem, nuthin. This was not because of any grand protest, just because I was so busy doing health insurance. What a drag.

I won't make the same mistake again, I'll tell you what. I started the morning off with some Misfits in the car. I'm now in the office, rockin' the shuffle and iPod knows just what I need--a lot of Millencolin and Heideroosjes. Oh, and it just popped up "Walking With a Ghost" by Tegan & Sara. Thank you, iPod.

The Rest is Still Unwritten

In just a minute here, I will watch one of the last two episodes with Lauren "LC" Conrad still on The Hills. I haven't felt this sad since Traci and I said goodbye to The OC a few years back. Luckily, I've got Josie & The Pussycats on the DVR to cheer me up.

Cherry Pie?

I just noticed that I have the entire "Best of Warrant" CD on my iTunes. Where did it come from? What is it doing there? I have no idea, but I do know that heaven isn't too far away-ayyy. Hallelujah.

Shady, Why You Gotsta Have Such a Bad Mouth?

I thought this state was supposed to be conservative. You’d think it’d be easy enough to get a hold of an edited copy of Eminem’s “Relapse.” Nope.

 

I’m going to review it for IN and I figured I could eliminate some of the disgustingness with a clean copy. I knew I could find one at Wal-Mart, but I despise Wal-Mart. So I headed to Best Buy. They had 8,000 copies of the album, but none edited. Same thing at Target. So I gave in and went to Wal-Mart. Three stores in one night is quite a task for one dad and two kids.

 

Out of all the CDs surrounding us in our travels, Paige was of course able to find stuff she likes everywhere we went. Somehow she managed to get a hold of “Andre Rieu Live in Vienna,” “Two Tongues,” and “Now That’s What I Call Music 29,” which contains her current favorite song, Katy Perry’s “Hot and Cold,” or as she calls it, “Your Hoppin’ You’re Cold.” (The second she saw it she immediately started singing, “Your hoppin’ your cold/You’re yes and you’re no…”)

 

I finally bought the CD at Wal-Mart. I love that the clean version costs $5 more than the original. Who knew swears were such a bargain these days?

 

What Does Recording an Album in the Basement Look Like?

The real question is "What does it sound like?" Well, you'll have to keep waiting for the answer to that question, but we did get the drums done for four new songs. That's a whole EP right there, my friend! Now we just need to do guitar, more guitar, bass, vocals, lots more vocals, and then mix the thing. Final product should be any day now.

Album of the Year

Never one to disappoint God, Danny and I will taking the day off tomorrow to track drums for a forthcoming Johnny Tightlips release. We're recording in my basement so the quality should be, you know, excellent. I have spent the last hour nailing LoveSac sleeping bags to the unfinished, concrete walls to get that sweet studio sound. I'm a regular Phil Spector (minus the girlfriend murdering).

Wish us luck.

Sorry Holland, I Guess I Don't Need You Anymore

In Holland and Belgium (and I'm guessing throughout Europe), instead of fast food restaurants, there are little snack shops on corners that sell French Fries or "frites." The best are the Vlaamse Frites (Flemish Fries) and they come topped with your choice of ketchup, curry ketchup, peanut sauce, mayonnaise, or patat oorlog (potato war)--which is the combination of all of those things. Though it took a while to get used to, mayo became my topping of choice.

There are times when I just want some frites so bad, and regular fries and crappy American mayonnaise just don't do the trick. The only solution is a $500 flight to Amsterdam. Until now.

Belgian Pierre Vandamme just opened up a Frites and Belgian waffels shop (Bruges Waffles & Frites) across the street from Pioneer Park in downtown SLC (336 W Broadway). He hand makes the fries and the waffles himself and they are absolutely amazing. Traci and I ate there tonight and she just about died from delight from the waffle covered in Belgian chocolate.

It was delightful. Lekker. Heerlijk. Zalig. Go there. And invite me.

http://www.brugeswaffles.com/

Red Jumpsuit Apparatus Needs a Hug

I'm trying to get a hold of The Offspring to do an interview for their upcoming performance at the X96 show. X96 has been helpful in getting me band contacts, but kind of a pulled a bait and switch on me--lining up a Red Jumpsuit Apparatus interview for me before passing me on to The Offspring.

RJA's big hit was 2006's "Face Down," a track that doesn't do much for me. Apparently, a lot of folks that interview singer Ronnie Winter must feel the same way. The guy's pretty defensive.



I'd been talking to him for about five seconds when he started in on "Critics don't like us, but we've sold millions of records, and we write great songs, and we're really talented, and so it doesn't matter what people think."

That was in response to "How has the success of 'Face Down' affected the band?" Inferiority complex, anyone? He then went on to explain how he played tuba in the college band--he needed to emphasize that he was a very talented tuba player--and how he formed the band with friends from his high school AP music class. I never thought I'd hear a singer in a rock band try to establish street cred by referencing his tuba skills. Very strange interview.

Still waiting on The Offspring.

Goodbye Pompadour, Hello Ladies' Man

The Hair. Before and After.

A The Radioman Says It's a Beautiful Night Out There

I've been asked to record a little "album that changed your life"-type thing for local public radio station KRCL. Here are the questions I'm supposed to address:

1. Describe the first time you heard the album. Put us there. How did it affect you?

2. Tell us something we may not know about the artists or the album; do a bit of research.

3. What do you want the audience to walk away with after listening to music that you selected?

Though it's going to be like two minutes long, I, of course, am taking it deathly serious. Now that I finally have the chance to talk about what I always want to talk about, what am I going to talk about?

My first thoughts were to talk about one of the bands I've loved the longest--Millencolin, Bad Religion, Catch 22, or even Weezer. But I don't really have stories about those bands. (I always have stories, but probably not interesting stories.) I toyed with Nada Surf's "Let Go," but had the same problem. But I think I've got one.

It's gonna be "Control" by Pedro the Lion. What am I going to say? Well, I don't want to give away the ending.

I'm so nervous.

(Potty) Train Wreck

I was reading a mommy blog the other day and the mommy author made reference to potty training being "not that big of deal." She then said that she thinks a lot of moms make a big deal out of a lot of stuff that isn't really that big of deal. Well, this mommy (or dad, whatevs.) has something to say about that!

Paige has been "potty trained" (those are sarcasm quotes) for months now. Yet nearly ever trip to the old water closet is a gigantic task. It has not been easy. Though it has certainly had some comical moment, overall, it is an incredibly frustrating endeavor.

Funny: Paige screams from the bathroom at the top of the stairs, "Mom, I did the poops! It looks like the letter C. No, it looks like a U."

Challenging: Paige, Curtis, Spencer at the Taylorsville library. Paige decides she needs to go RIGHT NOW. We hustle to the men's bathroom which contains two urinals and a stall. The stall is filled with a man, lots of grunting, an unimaginable smell, and no sign of ending soon. Spencer, seeing no other option, holds Paige over the urinal and hopes for the best.

Infuriating: Tonight Paige is tired and filled with rage. I try to get her to go the bathroom before she goes to bed, which she does. However, she refuses to put the toilet paper in the toilet after she is done. When I finally do so for her, she gets upset and grabs it back out of the toilet. Arrghhh!

Endearing: A few weeks back. I ask her if she can "do it by herself." No, she wants me to help her. Fine. What I didn't expect was her scooting over on the seat and saying, "Come on, dad."

What a lovable little monster. I will die a premature death.

You and Me, We Have a Disease. You Affect Me, You Infect Me.

I took Curtis to the InstaCare on Saturday night. (We headed there the second we thought he was sick. We're not about to make another $1,300 trip to the ER. Another story for another time). While we were checking in, we stood next to a teenage punk boyfriend/girlfriend couple.

He had a mohawk and a KMFDM t-shirt (man, that band has great artwork), she had rad hair and big gauges. Of course I tried to eavesdrop on her explaining her symptoms to the receptionist.

"I have pain in my side and my kidneys...but it doesn't hurt when I pee or anything."

I was thinking what I'm sure everyone thinks when they see punks-in-love at the InstaCare--STD. It's gotta be an STD. Punks are always up to no good. Yes, definitely an STD. Or maybe swine flu. I took two squirts of the anti-bac on the desk and held my breath.

Curtis didn't have an STD or swine flu. Just an ear infection like always. No report yet on the punks.

What's My Motivation?

Haven't been blogging much lately. Haven't had much desire to, really. It hasn't been lack of things to write about, just a lack of motivation. Too much writing and thinking at work, I believe. Whatevs. Here's a few random things:

The Johnny Tightlips show at Burt's was really quite good. It'd been more than a year since our last show, but I'd actually rank near the top of our performances. A bunch of insurance friends came out and we debuted a new tune, "All I Wanna Do." Surprisingly, it was one of the best songs in the set. We've been reworking it for months and we finally found an arrangement we all liked a couple days before the show.

The show got me really jazzed about the band again. I am happy about our new material and I really want to get serious about finally getting everything recorded. (I had a revelation about it during Priesthood Session. Yes, that's what God talks to me about.) However, nothing has happened yet.

On another music note, I did record a new song at work the other day. It's not so much a song as a 12 second soundtrack for an 8-bit video game that we've been creating to promote dental insurance. You can hear the track in all it's dopeness here.

So I guess that's it for now. I need to stop blogging and start writing music.


This, in turn, got me excited about my next musical project--a more electronic outing called Mixtape Mixtape. I haven't quite gotten around to working on this yet, either. My procrastination is depressing.

Hitchhiking to Sweden

On May 1, My #1 fav band of all-time, Millencolin, will be performing their #1 best album, Pennybridge Pioneers, in its entirety. The only drawback for a fellow like me is that it's in Sweden. Can anyone help me out with a plane ticket?

Here's the dealio:

"Satin has been the only club/bar with regular live shows in our hometown Örebro, Sweden for many years. This is where we've had pretty much all the official Millencolin Open parties and spent many other great party nights. Unfortunately the landlord have decided to not renew their contract so the first weekend of may will be the last of the Satin era.

We're celebrating the club by playing Pennybridge Pioneers from first to last song live as the last band on their stage! "

If memory serves me, I saw the band when they were touring this record in 2001. But not in its entirety. And, more importantly, this album has now fallen into the nostalgic-for-a-better-time-in-music category. Plus they recently did a "U.S." tour, but it only included New York and California. Hello, what about the rest of this country? So you can see why this is so important.

Buddy passes, anyone?

One Year Anniversary

So, we've officially had one year with this chubby kid. (Though everyone concurs that he weighs a million pounds, the doctor insists that he only weighs 22. The vast majority of that weight has to be in that ginormous mellon.) We like him pretty good.

We had the two-day birthday extravaganza over the weekend--Sunday night with the Pearsons, Monday with the Sutherlands. The pictures above are his second round of cake smashing. He felt fine about eating the cake, but what he really enjoyed was the squishing. Apparently, we've really been stifling his squishing talents.

Traci is lamenting how fast the time has gone and how he's no longer a little baby. I'm trying to determine if I think it has gone fast or slow. It already seems difficult to remember what it was like to only have one kid to chase around.

Traci and I both agree that Curtis has been much easier than Paige was, but I wonder how much of that comes from A) comparing him to a rambunctious three-year-old and B) being more used to parenthood. He does seem to have a more laid back demeanor, though.

He loves Paige and is constantly laughing at her. But he's also started sticking up for himself lately, by both throwing a fit when she steals his stuff and spending a lot of time stealing her stuff. He's also figured out how to turn off the TV, which drives Paige absolutely crazy.

Post 8:00 p.m. (Paige's bedtime) is Curtis's time to shine. He laughs and plays and shows off all his tricks--no lousy big sister to steal his spotlight.

His tricks, however, are still a bit limited. He's not walking yet--just pulling himself up on stuff and shuffling from thing to thing--which is frustrating for him and sometimes embarrassing for me. Last week a church a younger (and much lighter) girl was trying to play with Curtis. She walked right over to him and he lay on the floor on his back, rolling back and forth like a chubby, shell-side-up turtle.

"Curtis," I told him sternly. "We can't have little girls showing you up like this." He just smiled at me. He knows what he's doing.

Here's to year number two...

David Bazan: Live @ Chelsea's House

David Bazan
House Show
Salt Lake City
04.21.09

In musical terms, “an intimate performance” usually means a show in a small club with a couple hundred people. I don’t know what you call it when you and 24 other people get to see an artist play an hour-long set in a friend’s living room. I guess if you’re a David Bazan fan, one word comes to mind—heaven.

David Bazan (the artist formerly known as Pedro the Lion) is down to the last three days of a six week house performance tour. A few months back, Bazan posted an open call to would-be show hosts on his website. The requirements were simple: have a house that would fit 30-50 people, live on a street with ample parking and neighbors that won’t call the cops, and have a chair for David to sit on while he plays his guitar.

A delightful Salt Lake City girl named Chelsea answered the call. Tonight her downtown loft became the best venue in town, filled with adoring fans sitting cross-legged on her floor. Bazan arrived at the house around 7:30 with his guitar in hand. He spent a half hour enjoying a few beers and mingling with the house guests and then took the
stage—er, the corner of the room—around 8:00.

Surrounded by seated adorers, Bazan strummed softly and bellowed mightily. He played a handful of songs from his back catalog, but saved the majority of the set list for material from his forthcoming album, “Curse Your Branches.” The record looks to be Bazan’s most introspective to date, revolving around his break with his Evangelical Christian upbringing.

In usual Bazan fashion, he paused after every few songs to allow time for questions. The group was quick to respond. Queries ranged from usual concert fare—favorite records, bands and such—to his thoughts on God and his religious family. Bazan thoughtfully responded to each inquiry and, at times, seemed so engaged in the conversation that the songs almost became an afterthought. And that was just fine.

The evening was about more than just the songs. The setting was perfect, the artist engaging, and the music gorgeous. This is how live music should be.

Red Vines and Dope Rhymes

Yesterday there was a pack of Twizzlers sitting on the counter. Of course Paige sniffed them out. "Can I have some of that?"

"Some of what?" I say.

"Some ticklish."

"Ticklish?"

She points to the licorice. "Yeah, some ticklish."

Sure.

The Family Home Evening After Party

If you missed last night's Johnny Tightlips show, this is pretty much how it looked and sounded.

The Third Day

I would have to guess that Jesus is pretty happy that his resurrection day is celebrated, in part, by dressing your kids up in new church clothes and taking pictures in the front yard.

The Chomper

I was changing my shirt when Traci saw my bare chest and said, "Uggh, what is that?"

[I considered ending the post here, and leaving that as your last mental image.]

"What?"

"That giant bruise."

"That's from your little vampire baby."

It is a regular occurrence that, when I sit on the floor, Curtis will crawl over to me immediately, grabs me and bites me. On this particular occasion, he bit me so hard that I had to grab his cheeks and pry his jaws open to get him to release.

"Curtis!" I shouted. "No! No! No!"

He looked at me, tears bubbled up in his eyes and then started streaming down his cheeks.

"Oh, it's okay, buddy. Don't be sad."

And I thought I was the victim here.

Johnny Tightlips @ Burt's Tiki Lounge

www.johnnytightlips.com

Watch Out! Punks in the Cracker Aisle

Some good tunes on the way into work in the morning can make all the difference in the world. I can't get enough of the new Left Alone album. It is exactly how gutter punk is supposed to sound. If you have liked Rancid for any moment in your life, you'll love this one.

Left Alone

The Stuff That Makes a Father Proud

The last few days, Paige has been banging away at her little acoustic guitar. It all started when she was watching an episode of the Doodlebops called "The Mystery Riff." When she saw Busdriver Bob play that solo, she turned to me and said, very seriously, "Dad, where's my guitar?"

Since then she's been smacking the strings as hard as she can and singing little songs about stuff she's been doing or things she's been looking at. "We're...going...to Grandma Sutherlanddddd's" or "There's the speakers...to the radio...mom bought me." 

While that's certainly endearing enough, what really gets me is that before she starts any song she says, in pure punk rock fashion, "1, 2, 1-2-3-4." I love it.

Nacho Curtis

Somehow Curtis has managed to stick around for a year--despite trying his best to swallow any object he can get hands and chewing on every electrical cord he can find. Where has the time gone?

He's still not walking, just quickly crawling behind his big sister so he can terrorize her wherever she goes. He does, however, hoist himself up on everything that can support his, well, ample frame. (My favorite is when he I'm sitting on the ground and he grabs my, well, less than ample hair and pulls himself up.)

Today's he added a new move. He pulls himself up and then, for a split second, let's go--no hands! Because he's a tricky dude, he doesn't just let go, he puts his chubby arms way up in the sky like he's riding a roller coaster. And then...the crash. If it's me that he's pulled himself on, the result is a magnificent body slam. This causes him hysterical laughter. Our little luchador.