Death Cab For Cutie Squash the Beef

First off, I apologize that all of my posts have been hopelessly outdated lately. That said, some news from a couple of weeks ago:

X96 got their little feelings hurt the other day when Death Cab came to town. The station started promoting an in-studio performance at AirWaves by the band and they were going to invite fans to come down and see it. I found this to be a bit strange because I have never heard a Death Cab song on X96.

You're a Boner!

Then all of the sudden I started hearing commercials on The End advertising a performance in their studio. Hmm, both stations? What's up with that? Apparently, Death Cab ditched their X96 to play at The End. X96 was so mad that they nominated DCFC to be "the boner of the week:"

"Death Cab For Cutie": The band "Death Cab For Cuties" was supposed to come into Airwaves to play a song or two for some X96 fans. When they arrived, they decided that they didn't want any of the fans there. When asked if they could play in a studio with a window, they refused. When asked if they could play in a studio without any windows, they refused. Finally they decided that they just weren't going to play, but told Todd Nukem to lie to the fans and tell them that one of the band members wasn't feeling well. Apparently realizing their mistake, they visited another radio station and played for a live audience.

No, You're the Boner!

DCFC guitarist Chris Walla [in picture, left of guy with ugly hair] didn't think that X96 was telling the whole story. Here's what he posted to X96's website:

This is Chris from Death Cab for Cutie. I don't particularly want to argue or be a very large part of this conversation, but clearly we've done some irreparable damage to our relationship with KXRK, and with a few of our fans, and some statement should be made on our behalf. I always prefer that such statements are personal, and not handed down from management or wherever, so here it is.

It's important to note that, since our first show in November of 1997, we have canceled exactly three scheduled engagements. One was in 1999 when Ben was violently ill with heat stroke in Austin. Another was in Houston last year when the electricity went out at the venue, and the roof was leaking onto the stage. The third cancelation was last week, at KXRK in Salt Lake City.

It's simply not in our nature to walk out on an obligation without reason - this should be obvious from our track record. We love performing, we enjoy talking with our fans, and we still freak out when we get to meet our favorite bands.

There are a few realities, as a successful-bordering-on-famous band, that we're having to learn. We've always prided ourselves on our approachability, but as the lights get brighter it becomes more difficult, and more uncomfortable, to negotiate uncontrolled situations. We've gotten stuck a few times now doing promotional things that went haywire; appearances that have gotten uncomfortable or even ugly.

The point of all this is that we'll do just about anything if we have all the information, if we know what we're getting ourselves into. We, by way of management and our label, agreed to a live, in-studio performance at KXRK. We did not agree to put on a show in the lobby of an office building. Those two things are not the same. The station told all its listeners, all of you, to come see a performance that we neither agreed to nor were we ready for. I apologize to anyone who made the trek to the station to see us play, and was disappointed by our no show. You were given false information. And really, all the station had to do to make it seamless was to let us know the score - we'd have brought different instruments; our engineer would have come along; we would have brought the silver Sharpies to sign our black record for you; I'd have made a concerted effort to brush my teeth. And most importantly, we'd have known we were going to meet you. It's like when your roommate throws a party when you thought it was going to be a nice, quiet evening at home. We simply weren't prepared.

By contrast, our engagement at the other station in town was spotless. They were clear, detailed and professional in their communication with us, and we knew exactly what to expect. It wasn't a public performance; there was no PA, and therefore, no need to have our engineer along.

Whatever you end up thinking about us as a result of all this is ultimately alright (actually, I encourage the homophobes to stay away, please). Just know - this goes for Todd Newcomb, as well as all the fans - that, in the course of nearly six hundred shows, a hundred radio performances and fifteen van tours, we've only bailed two other times: Once for illness and once for a power outage. Doesn't that imply that something actually went wrong?

Well, whoever was at fault, both parties have now kissed up made up. X96 did an on-air interview with Chris Walla and Radio From Hell team even rescinded their boner nomination. How sweet. For being the bad guys, I think DCFC ended up winning the celebrity battle, since now X96 is actually playing their music.

R.I.P. Organ 2004 - 2005

It's official. I have traded in my organ to make room for a baby crib. What is this world coming to? For those of you out there who have always been jealous of my super rad organ, if you act fast you can probably still buy it from the Deseret Industries on 4500 South. Parenthood is imminent.

The Donster vs. Ryan Seacrest

I had a very interesting dream last night. I was walking down through a street of dilapidated boardwalk-style shops with a friend of mine. He leaned over and said something to me about how my dad was a ways behind us. I said, “It’s all good. My dad’s cool. He’s got Ryan Seacrest with him.”

Sure enough, a few minutes later my dad and American Idol host Ryan Seacrest caught up with us. “Hello Ryan,” I said.

People tease Ryan Seacrest for being all straightening iron and no brains, and his response proved it, “Seacrest Out.” What? I thought. Isn’t that what he says at the end of American Idol, you know, the end?

I woke up right after talking to him and immediately thought to myself, I need to blog this. What is wrong with me?

Soundtrack to Someone Else's Life: Concerts I DIDN'T see

In my fanatical world of music obsession, seeing a band live is a crucial element to fandom. As I look back over all the bands I've seen in the past 10 years, I can't help but think about another impressive list - all the bands I didn't see. I swear, when it comes to concerts, I've got incredibly bad luck. Here are some of the concerts I've missed:

Nirvana 1993

"You're not old enough," my mother said. I wanted to see my idol, Kurt Cobain, more than anything. "Don't worry," she ensured me, "you can see them when you're older." Mom was wrong.

EPILOGUE: There was no next time. 

Rage Against the Machine 1996

In '96 Rage Against the Machine was the second scariest band on the planet - right behind Marilyn Manson. When they came to Utah, for whatever reason, they were booked to play the Fair Grounds in Spanish Fork. The residents of the small Utah County town were so frightened that along with Rage would come gangs that would overrun Spanish Fork, that they were practically installing bars on their windows.

The tickets sold out right away. However, I received an inside tip that X96 was going to release a handful of extra tickets on a Saturday morning. Chris Wilson and I hitched a ride downtown with his sister (we were both too young to drive) and we were able to get our hands on the LAST FOUR TICKETS!

Getting tickets was always a cinch compared to getting my mother to allow me to go. I always bought the tickets first and then tried to use the fact that I already had the tickets as part of my defense argument with my mother. She held strong. It was in Spanish Fork on a school night. No go. I sold the ticket (which I think only cost me $10 - incredible) to some lucky sucker.

EPILOGUE: The police report for the show only mentioned one problem - a bunch of kids jumping on top of a car.  The car, however, was their own. 

I never got another chance to see the band. I have no desire to see Audioslave, but I would like to see Zach de la Rocha if that miracle ever happens.

Stretsch Armstronng 1997

Stretsch Armstronng is undisputedly the best Utah band of all time. I can't remember how many times I saw them play. When the band announced that they were breaking up and playing one last show, there is nothing in the world that could have stopped me from going to the show - short of an Act of God, or my mother. It turns out there was a combination of the two. The show was on an incredibly blizzery night in Provo. All of my friends were going, but my mom refused to "let me die in the storm."

Well, my friends didn't die and they loved the show. Stretsch played every song they had ever written from start to finish. Unbelievable.

EPILOGUE: In 2002, Stretsch came back from the dead to play a one-off Skalloween show in Lindon. The guys were older, their little costumes a bit tighter, but they could still skank, and, believe it or not, so could I.

Cake 2002

For whatever reason, Cake has eluded me throughout their career. When they finally came around, it was during the 2002 Olympics. My Cake friends Ty and Ne-ALL picked were all set to go.

The show was on my birthday and sure would have been a nice gift to myself. Unfortunately, the Dutch had other plans for me. I was forced to go to a mandatory evening at the Holland Heineken House to eat bitterballen (translation: "bitter balls") with the crew of the Dutch TV station that I was working for.

The boys not only loved the show, but also managed to sneak in for free through a back fence or something. There's nothing I hate more than missing something that's free.

EPILOGUE: I had the chance to see Cake in Park City in early 2005. S'all good.

Local H 2003

"Hello? Hello?" It was 9 p.m. on a weeknight, and I was quietly walking through the empty and dark Urban Lounge. I found an employee in the back room. "What's up with the Local H show tonight?" I asked. 

"Uh, I think their bus broke down or something, but they'll be here. They should start about midnight." I wasn't willing to stick around by myself in an empty bar for three hours.

EPILOGUE: I saw the band the next year in a small bar. It was the first time that I've ever actually felt frightened by a band. I thought Scott Lucas might come out into the crowd at any moment and beat the crap out of me.

Warped Tour 2004

Traci's parents asked us if we wanted to accompany them on a family vacation to San Diego. We agreed. They didn't have any time preference and I told them I could go anytime during the summer, with the exception of one weekend, when I wanted to attend the Warped Tour. Bad Religion, Bouncing Souls, Alkaline Trio, the Vandals (whom I have yet to see), Taking Back Sunday and Motion City Soundtrack were all on the bill. Traci's dad booked the flights. Yep, right over Warped Tour weekend. Ty said it was outstanding.

EPILOGUE: I'm still a little sad about it. 

The Strokes 2004

On their first tour, the Strokes were charging $20+ for a ticket. A bit ridiculous, don't you think? Luckily, my friend Wicks won some free tickets on the radio. He doesn't like the band, so he gave them to me.

I was all set to go the show and was just finishing up a 10-page research paper for my Communication Law class, like a good boy. I was just about to save one more time before I turned off the computer, when the laptop went haywire. The paper was lost. I don't mean kind-of lost. It was lost-lost. I spent three hours trying to get it back and the rest of the night rewriting the stupid thing. No Strokes for me.

EPILOGUE: I still haven't seen the Strokes. I'm not too worried about it, it's just always a drag to throw away free tickets.

Death Cab for Cutie 2005

This was a first. My buddy Nilay bought the tickets to the sold out show. I was all set to go, but when I called him to discuss our meeting plans he said, "Uh, you're going to hate me. I can't find the tickets." Sure-handed Nilay unsuccessfully searched his apartment up and down.

EPILOGUE: I saw them last year and they were great. If I don't ever see them again, I'll still remember that one.

Haunted by a Scary, Dead Japanese Boy

To celebrate the month of Halloween, we got together with our homeys the Bawdens last weekend. We carved pumpkins and watched “The Grudge.” For those of you who have not seen the movie, here is the plot:

Buffy the Vampire Slayer is working in Japan as a nanny for the elderly. She goes to a house that is haunted by the ghost of an (un)dead little Japanese boy and his mom. For some reason they want to kill everyone who goes into the house. The plot doesn’t really make any sense at all, and all I could figure out was that all of the killing is preceded by a gurgling sound. If there’s gurgling, crazy stuff is going to go down. Luckily Buffy doesn’t die, so there can be a sequel.

Anyway, we go home and I wake up in the middle of the night. Traci is pregnant and can only get comfortable if she is sleeping on the couch. I’m all alone in the bedroom and I hear the gurgling. I look around. Is that dead Japanese kid in here? I don’t see him, so I guess he’s hiding under the bed. Why does the dead Japanese kid want to kill me? I ask myself. I can’t think of any valid reason, but I can still him gurgling. I listen more carefully. It’s close to the bed. Maybe it’s in the bed. I lean forward and it gets louder – as if it’s coming from my own stomach. I get up, get something to eat and the gurgling mysteriously stops. The kid doesn’t bother me for the rest of the night.

But I Love 'The Chuck'

My dad has really stepped up his post-Priesthood Session game. Back in the day, I remember being treated to a shake at the Iceberg or Take 5. I don’t know what inspired the change, but the last few years we have started going to the Chuck-a-Rama after Conference.

I have previously expressed my love for The Chuck (I will soon be starring in a commercial called “But I Love ‘Chuck’”), but the Donster (previously My Dad vs. Email) upped his game again last weekend by taking my bro-in-law John and I to the Golden Corral.

Now, I’d never been to the Golden Corral before. Apparently, a requirement to be a successful buffet restaurant is to have an utterly unappealing name. Having just been at a corral at my grandpa’s ranch earlier that day, the idea of eating at a “Golden Corral” didn’t really seem appealing. Oh, but I was wrong. Very Swanky.

For you classy folk who are out on the buffet scene, here’s my comparison of The Chuck and the GC:

Beverages – The Chuck wins, hands down. Not only does the Chuck have a big ol’ selection including chocolate milk, exotic fruit drinks, and fake slurpees, but it is also self-serve. At the GC, you have to wait for the server to refill your drink with one of four boring flavors. However, the server does bring dinner rolls right to your table.

Meat – At the Chuck you get a choice of ham or roast beef. What else is there? I didn’t think there was anything else until I visited the GC. They’ll cook up some sirloin steak right there for you. I’ll take my steak medium-well, thanks! I also had some killer bourbon chicken.

Dessert-I was too full to eat dessert at the GC, after all of the steak and Brussel sprouts (that's right, Brussel sprouts!), but I’ll say this about the Chuck - any restaurant that serves Jell-O is okay by me.

Atmosphere – GC has better lighting and easier to get around. You don’t have to knock over 30 people to get from the salad to the soup like at the Chuck. The GC just feels classier.

Overall - The GC might be a bit nicer, but come on, we're talking about the Chuck here. How can you not love the Chuck?

Nada Surf The Weight is a Gift

I know what you’re thinking - Nada Surf, Nada Surf, why do I know that name?  If you scroll through your music memory all the way back to 1996 you’ll probably remember their radio hit “Popular,” with excerpts from the book “The Teenage Guide to Popularity.” 

Until three years ago, that was the only Nada Surf song I had ever heard.  In 2002 Rolling Stone started raving about the album “Let Go” and I decided to check it out.  (Note: Rolling Stone rarely gives good suggestions, so beware.)

“Let Go” is easily one of the best albums of the 2000s.  It’s so good that I actually save it for special occasions, for fear of overplaying it.  After “Let Go,” I went back through the band’s back catalog to see what I had been missing.  Well, not much.  Neither “High/Low” nor “Proximity Effect” were noteworthy.  

I had very modest hopes for “The Weight is a Gift.”  Sure, “Let Go,” was a masterpiece, but the question remained, was it the beginning of greater things to come, or just an average band getting lucky?   

The answer lies somewhere in the middle. “Weight” is by no means as good as “Let Go,” but better than their first two albums.  Overall, it’s more upbeat, but not necessarily more likable.  The genius of “Let Go” was that in between the somberness, a few happy tracks broke out through the clouds like rays of sunlight.  The happiness on “Weight” lacks downtrodden contrast. 

Though it’s not outstanding, after many listens, I’ve found that “Weight” is just a few solid tracks short of being one of those perfectly understated albums.  Or rather, the album has two or three too many bad songs.  The album rolls along nicely until the mistake of “What is Your Secret.”  The band bounces back with the most “Let Go-esque” moment of the album, “Your Legs Grow,” only to stumble again with “All is a Game.”  Unfortunately, the good songs are not good enough to overpower the songs that don’t work.   

This album works better as a mixtape.  Drop some of the bad stuff, keep the solid tracks like “Always Love,” “Do it Again,” and the expletive-heavy “The Blankest Year” and you will have a nice little EP that you can title “A Little Less Dead Weight is a Gift.”  

Outkast - ATLiens

Outkast
ATLiens
August 1996

Since I hadn't checked out Outkast's pre-Stankonia material, I figured I would give this one a try.

ATLiens, Outkast's second album,is Big Boi and Dre before their huge success. The album has a very relaxed feel, with most of the tracks with a slower tempo.

There are no "Ms. Jackson" or "So Fresh So Clean" on this one, but "ATLiens" is certainly in the same league as those songs.

The Skinny: If you want to be a serious Outkast fan, you'll need this record to see how they got to where they are now.

Well kids, you missed a good show at the Circuit Tuesday night.

The Hightlights:

• The Circuit was completely mohawk-free
• Aaron's dad was there and he was packing heat (the show was in Midvale)
• One of the high school-aged band's dad was very drunk and operating not only a big redneck truck, but also a video camera. I don't know which is scarier.

Sutang Hearts Shaq

I was checking out MusicVideoCodes.com for the first time today. I was quite impressed by the selection. Browsing through the "S" section, I found some unlikely hits including Saves the Day, Samiam, Saigon Kick and even Shaquille O'Neal.

Now, I must admit that I haven't paid much attention to Shaq's music career since he hit Yo! MTV Raps with his 1993 debut Shaq Diesel. But I must say that I was surprised today when I found out that the Man of Steel has 5 full-length albums. Who knew? You've got to hand it to the fella for not giving up on his dreams.

The video made me think about something that for whatever reason, I spend entirely too much time thinking about: Nate Dogg.

Odds are pretty good that if you have listened to 10 rap songs in the past 10 years, that 8 of them feature a chorus sung by Nate Dogg, a la "Regulators." Choruses - that's all the guy does. Talk about a niche market!

Snoop's cousin Nate (you know they're related, they have the same surname. Duh.) has made hits with Snoop, Warren G, Dre, 50 Cent, and even the dead version of Tupac. Songs featuring Nate Dogg have sold a total of 65 million copies. Are you kidding me?

Okay, music world. Are you ready for this? I have figured something out. These songs, er, choruses, they're all the same! They're all frickin' "Regulators!" No one cares. Everyone loved "Regulators."

I figure the average Nate Dogg day goes something like this:

10 am -- wake up.
noon -- write a one-line chorus
1 pm -- record that chorus
2 pm thru remainder of day -- lie on sacks of money

Check out a Shaq Video (ft. Nate Dogg OF COURSE!!)

Johnny Tight Lips Show

But I Love "Chef"

The other day I was discussing my love for the accordian with a few of my co-workers. That led me to think about a Chef Boyardee commerical from a few months back - with the mom and little girl at the grocery store. If you haven't seen it, the mom says she's not buying the girl anymore Chef Boyardee and the girl says sadly, "But I love Chef." The can of Chef Boyardee then falls of the shelf, and to the girl's eventual bliss, follows her all the way home.

Well, I'm sucker for that little girl loving "Chef" so much, but the reason I was thinking about the commercial is because the coolest accordian song plays while the can is making the long journey from the grocery store the girl's house. I got so nostalgic for the commercial that I looked all over the internet to see if I could find it. I didn't have any luck, but I did find that some folks to had some VERY strong feelings about it.

The following story [from the workout diaries] just about killed me:

Exhibit #3,584,962 proving I might be sort of weird

This post about Chef Boyardee at the Donut made me think about something that's been bugging me for a while.

In the interest of full disclosure, I should mention that I HATE Chef Boyardee. It makes me gag. If I'm going to eat processed pasta, it's Spaghettios all the way.

That aside, you know that commercial? The one where the mom and the little girl are in the grocery store? No? Well, the plot goes a little something like this: Mom and Girl walking the processed pasta aisle at the supermarket, and Girl picks up a can of Chef Boyardee. Mom says, "No, honey, we've had Chef every night this week." Girl says, "But I love Chef." Being a obedient girl, though, she puts the can back on the shelf. After they have walked away, the can rolls off the shelf and follows them through the store...then into the parking lot and down the highway, and eventually into their house. Cut to the inside of the house, where Girl is sitting on the floor in the family/living room doing...something, and Mom calls from the kitchen, "What do you want for dinner?" Just then, the stalker can of "Chef" rolls into Girl's leg, she picks up the can, looks at it, and smiles knowingly. End of commercial.

Now, I have a few problems with this.

1. "We've had Chef every night this week." Seriously? Who's running that house? Because I'm telling you...it must be a cold week in hell if I serve canned pasta every night for a week. Sure, I work all day, I'm not even all that fond of cooking, and Noah does have a deep and abiding love for Spaghettios...but EVERY NIGHT? Sure, it's got all those vitamins injected into it, so it's sort of quasi-healthy. But...every night?! Besides which, that mom doesn't have the sort of figure one would associate with someone who eats canned spaghetti regularly.

2. "Chef." "Chef?" I do not know a single person who calls Chef Boyardee "Chef". If it's nicknamed at all, we shorten to the type of mushy pasta that's actually in the can--"ravioli", "spaghetti", etc. Is this like UPS's moronic plan to make everyone call them "brown"? Because I hate that too.

3. "What do you want for dinner?" Okay, you were just at the grocery store, lady. That was probably a question you wanted to cover there. Didn't you go in with some kind of plan? At the very least, something looked good while you were there. Surely you bought ingredients that you could throw together into some semblance of a meal. Though maybe I'm projecting here...this is a woman who had "Chef" every night that week, after all.

4. The cliffhanger ending. So many unanswered questions. Okay, Girl's smiling at the can of "Chef", so presumably she is going to suggest to her decision-impaired mother that they should have Chef Boyardee again. Um, didn't Mom put the kibosh on that plan while they were at the store? That's going to go over well. Not. Especially since they didn't actually BUY the "Chef". This is how I like to imagine the resulting conversation would go:

Girl brings can of pasta into kitchen.

"How about this?"
Mom sighs. "No, I already told you at the sto--Wait! Where did you get that?! We didn't buy any! Did you steal it?!"
"Um, no...it just bumped into my leg just now." Tears well up in her eyes.
"It bumped into your leg? From where?"
"In the living room. I don't know...it was just there."
"What, it just followed us home all by itself, eh?! Don't lie to me!"

After that, Girl probably bursts into tears, and Mom sends her to her room to think about why it's wrong to steal a can of craptastic pasta from the supermarket. (If everyone stole "Chef", you see, the grocers would lose money and then have to raise their prices to compensate, and therefore it hurts us all.) And despite being completely innocent, Girl goes to her room as she's told, spending a miserable evening crying and wondering if she's crazy. The neighbors hear the yelling and the crying, call CPS...well, maybe I've gone a bit too far here.

At the very least, Girl has some serious 'splaining to do.

Hooray for Holland

In sports-that-are-only-popular-in-Europe news:

Here's something for Dutch folk to get excited about. Two Dutchies scored to high enough to qualify for the World Championship of Trampoline Jumping! The Chinese are the favorites to take the cup.

Not Disappointed

Streetlight was absolutely AMAZING! A full review to follow...

Thug Life & Fake Death, R.I.P. Tupac

September 13 marked the 9 year anniversary of the death of Tupac Shakur. Here's the thing about Tupac, not only was he the best rapper in the game when he was alive, he's still the best rapper in the game today. You have got to hand it to a guy who recorded so much material before he died that there have been more Tupac albums of new material released posthumously than humously (is that a word?).

One drawback of releasing records after you're dead, is that you do lose some creative rights. Since his death, Pac has been teamed up with the likes of Eminem, Nate Dogg, and, umm, Elton John. I had forgotten all about the Elton/Tupac track "Ghetto Gospel" until happened to be listening to "Now That's What I Call Music Vol. 61" today(that's right in the UK, they're up to volume 61). Normally I would said that this would cause Tupac to spin in his grave, but since I believe he faked his death, I guess that I should say he's in the Cayman Islands counting his bags of money.

R.I.P. Tupac!

Streetlight Manifesto: Live @ Lo-Fi Cafe

It’s hard to believe that it’s only been two years since Streetlight Manifesto dropped “Everything Goes Numb,” by far the best ska record released in this millennium.  I have not-so-patiently waited while the band has booked, and then cancelled, Salt Lake City on their last two tours of the left side of America. 

Oh, of course they had their excuses for leaving me hangin’ From their website, “[We] also wanted to mention a few firsts coming up on the next tour: 1) Show in Salt Lake City (we've had a freakishly bizarre series of events that always prevented us from playing there) (and to that kid that keeps writing in, cursing us off for hating his city, calm down kid, take your Ritalin, we're on the way.)” 

This time they really came.  “Hello Salt Lake City,” lead singer Tomas Kalnoky greeted the crowd of 300+ at the Lo-Fi Café, “we finally made it.  It’s about [expletive] time.”  The seven piece band opened with a short instrumental intro and then kicked into “A Moment of Violence” that worked the crowd into a frenzy.

It wasn’t really necessary for Kalnoky to have a microphone.  It was hard to hear his lyrics over the crowd singing every word as the band pounded out hits like “We are the Few,” “A Moment of Silence,” and “That’ll Be the Day.”  Every song was danceable, singable, rejoicable. 

After teasing the crowd with 15 seconds of a new song, Kalnoky told fans that this would be their last chance to hear all of the “Numb” material and that they would be returning in early 2006 with songs from a new album.  He also hinted at new material from side project Bandits of the Acoustic Revolution.  Streetlight even gave a nod to their former band, Catch 22, playing the first two verses of “Point-Counterpoint” and then transitioning into Catch 22’s “Keasbey Nights” before returning to the last verse of “Point.”

After playing all but one track off of “Numb,” Streetlight bid Salt Lake goodnight.  The encore began about 30 seconds later, with repeating guitar chords coming from offstage, building until the band returned to the stage with “If and When We Rise Again.”   

 The show was worth the wait. 

September Consumption

Music

John Vanderslice - Pixel Revolution
Good Riddance - Ballads of the Revolution
Kanye West - Late Registration
Whole Wheat Bread - Minority Rules
Bayside - S/T
Fountains of Wayne - Out of State Plates
Screaming Trees - Ocean of Confusion

Books

How to Be Good by Nick Hornby
From Pieces to Weight by 50 Cent
Persepolis 2 - Marjane Sartrapi

A World of Disillusion

My entire world view has been shaken. I was watching Saved by the Bell: The Miss Bliss Years the other day. Miss Bliss was talking to Milo, the school custodian, and he said something like, "We work at the best school in all of Indianapolis."

What? What about Bayside? Am I to believe that between junior high and high school, Zack, Lisa, Screech and Mr. Belding all moved from Indiana to California? Everything I know about life, I learned from Saved By the Bell. If they lied to me about where these kids were going to school, I don't really know what I can believe anymore.

A Year on the Streets: The Sutherland Manifesto Celebrates its First Birthday

After a long, cold Utah winter, everyone around here is always over-anxious for spring to come.  That’s why when the thermometer hits 60 degrees everyone starts throwing on their shorts and laying out on their still-dead lawns.  It’s still cold outside, but not freezing, which is certainly something to be excited about. 

It was on a 60-degree day in April 2004 that was I sitting in my backyard with my pant legs rolled up, working on my tan, and reading a book called “Tales of a Punk Rock Nothing” by Abram Shalom Himelstein and Jamie Schweser.  It’s all about a Jewish, straightedge vegan kid who moves to DC and gets heavily involved the political hardcore scene. 

What I found most interesting was that the narrative is written completely in the form of letters and ‘zines (homemade punk magazines generally distributed at concerts, the way-cooler precursor to blogs).  It immediately made me think back to when I was playing in a band in high school.  I started missing photocopied ‘zines and punk rock cassette tapes recorded in basements and all that good stuff. 

I would have been fine with the feelings of nostalgia, but more than anything I was feeling a bit disappointed with myself.  I started thinking about how in high school I was writing and playing music, writing poetry and making killer movies (remember “The Adventures of Choo-Choo and Cho-Cho San?”  Masterpiece.).  Where had all of my creativity gone? 

There’s only so much satisfaction one can derive from mowing a lawn or cutting someone’s hair, since it will eventually just grow back. I am obsessed with producing permanent, tangible things.  I always feel like I need to be "making" things and I really like the idea of creating something that wasn’t there before. 

Before I read “Punk Rock Nothing,” I had already been deedling with a new format for journal writing.  I was doubting that my posterity was really going to be interested in the bland, daily reporting style of my journal, so I started writing about my life in newsletter form.  There were news stories, features and sidebars with lists of TV shows we watch and folks we hang out with.  But reading the book gave me a new idea.

I had taken a web design course at the U a year earlier, and since I still had access to the web space, I decided to combine my journal with some ‘zine elements – record reviews and whatnot – and publish the thing online. And, hence, the Manifesto was born. 

***

Monday morning: You walk into work, sit down, and your coworker says, “What’s new? How was your weekend?”  Odds are pretty good that you didn’t really do anything too out of the ordinary or life altering; nevertheless, it’s easy to give a response. 

Tuesday morning: You’re buying a 250-roll bag of toilet paper at Wal-Mart and you see someone you haven’t seen since high school.  “What’s new?  I haven’t seen you in eight years.”  You draw a total blank.  You can’t think of anything you’ve done in the past eight years at all.  “Uh, nothing.  Absolutely nothing’s new.”

Thinking back over the past year, it doesn’t seem like a whole lot has happened in my life.  But I recently perused the Manifesto Archives, and it turns out I’ve done tons of stuff.  I graduated from college, experienced my first bank robbery, bought some cheap sunglasses in Tijuana, recorded my first techno song, listened to the new Megadeth CD, watched an extraordinary amount of television, won $7 gambling in Vegas and even changed my own oil.  I guess it was a pretty good year.

Even though I know that there is no one out there in internetland looking at their calendar saying, “When’s this month’s Manifesto going to be posted,” I still try to post a new “issue” every month (despite the fact that I every month I ask myself if it’s worth the trouble) and I appreciate all you folks who take the time to look it over.

Here’s to the next year on the streets… 

Dare I Get My Hopes Up?

I have my tickets for the Streetlight Manifesto show, but I am not sure that I should get my hopes up. Here's my recent history with the band:

Last summer, Streetlight booked their first-ever show in Salt Lake. I was out-of-my-mind excited for about two seconds until I realized the show was on a Sunday. Should I break my perfect streak of no Sunday concerts? I didn't have too much of a choice because Traci wouldn't let me go.

I was, of course, very blue. The day after the show I checked around the internet to see if I could find a review of the show. It turns out Streetlight's bus broke down somewhere between Denver and here and they never made it. I took this as a sign of the importance of Sabbath Day observance.

In February the band announced they would be playing the Ska is Dead tour. Here was the real Sabbath Day reward - not just Streetlight, but Streetlight opening for the Voodoo Glow Skulls! Yep, I had made the right decision to pass on the Sunday show.

In classic Voodoo Glow Skulls fashion - despite the fact that the SLC date was scheduled - the Ska is Dead tour made a last-minute decision to skip SLC entirely. Streetlight finished the tour, headed off to a European tour and I thought I had missed my chance. Their website said that after Europe they would stop touring and focus on a second album.

I guess I'm in luck. Recording plans have been postponed. They're scheduled for the Lo-Fi Cafe on September 14. Cross your fingers for me.