This is...

...a picture of Win Butler looking at me. The Arcade Fire lead man caught site of me taking this shot from the front row of Stuart's Opera House back in March of 2008, when AF played a surprise, free Obama benefit.

That show remains one of my greatest musical memories for many reasons: the fact that I got to sit front row. The fact that Win jumped down into the audience and climbed up into the seats right in front of me. The fact that the band hung out with fans before the show, and when I said "Hey" to Win, he said, "What's up?" The fact that it was an intimate show of only about 300 people, when AF easily plays in front of tens of thousands now. The fact that it was mother-f%&#ing Arcade Fire playing a show in Nelsonville.

Days like that one last March are days that I'll tell my kids about, days that I'll remember forever, days that remind me how much I love life. They're also days that remind me of the power of music, and of why I love the camaraderie and intimacy of live music so much.

I write all of this now because I just watched the AF DVD "Miroir Noir," an incredible portrayal of the band as they recorded their last record, Neon Bible. It too reminded me of the sheer force of a live show and the beauty of music. It allowed a glimpse of a band who is very real, very dedicated, and very passionate about what they do. I highly recommend it.

Just now I think that the drums in the corner of my dining room never looked so lonely. God bless the ability to express oneself through music.

Oh, and another thing: F%*& you, Wayne Coyne of the Flaming Lips. Stop picking fights and start figuring out how to make good music. Sorry, but I took what you said just a little personally; at that show last March, I have never seen a band spend so much time getting to know their fans, even when they didn't have to. They paced the sidewalk for more than an hour getting to know us and thanking us for coming to a show that they drove 13 hours to do, for free. What's with the petty b.s., Wayne?

And one, final thought: my ticket to that show at Stuart's Opera House couldn't have happened without Katie standing in line on a cold Saturday morning for an hour and a half. She deserves that credit.

A Fun Little Video of Spring Break, Woohoo

(To the sounds of "Epistemology" by M. Ward)

And Finally: My Track-by-Track Review of the New U2

I had intended to write a track-by-track review of the new U2 record, No Line on the Horizon, about a month ago. But with finals and preparation for my spring break trip (more to come on that, by the way), it kind of fell by the wayside.

And you know what also happened? I kind of stopped listening to it.

Alas, I feel the need to post a track-by-track review because, well, every track has something to say, and with U2's vast catalog, each of these songs deserves to be ranked fairly and accurately. Plus, this will calm my conscience; sometimes the crazy storm of music opinion racing through my head just needs to be cataloged neatly in order to justify itself.

Also, I should note my history with U2 (mostly because one's opinion of a band and that band's catalog always skews their review of anything new issued by that band; if you don't believe me, check out Rolling Stone's reviews of the latest U2 and Springsteen records, then read any other review of those records.)

My first knowledge of U2 and who they were came when they released All That You Can't Leave Behind in 2000; I really liked "Beautiful Day" (as a new drummer back then, I tried to wrap my head around how Larry could play two beats at the same time; of course, as a kid, I didn't realize that there was such a thing as a drum machine loop), but was victim to a constant barrage of U2 on the radio. Truth be told, I didn't much like anything on All That You Can't Leave Behind besides "Beautiful Day," and got sick of the band pretty fast.

I rediscovered U2 during my junior year of high school, about the same time I gave up on the crappy nu-metal I'd listened to during most of high school and started listening to more stuff from the 60s, 70s and 80s. I had just received the then-brand-new How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb for my birthday, and figured I'd dig deeper into this band that so many people were calling the "greatest band on earth." So I purchased Joshua Tree... and fell pretty hard (you may remember that it's my No. 3 favorite album of all time.)

Joshua Tree led to Achtung Baby, and Achtung Baby eventually led to Boy, October, War, and yes, All That You Can't Leave Behind (I still have significant holes in my U2 collection, most notably Unforgettable Fire.) Then, last summer, I read the U2 autobiography "U2 by U2," and spent the better part of a month listening to nothing but U2. So I'd say I now have a respectable opinion of U2, but not nearly the extensive opinion and knowledge of so many other (older) folks (I was a month-and-a-half when Joshua Tree was released, so, considering I don't have the perspective of having listened to this stuff when it was fresh, I usually defer to other people when seeking a U2 scholar.)

Okay, having rambled about all of this and giving you an idea of where I'm coming from, I now take a look at all 11 tracks of No Line on the Horizon:

1. "No Line on the Horizon": Opening with one of the heaviest guitar licks in the U2 catalog, this intro track finds Bono shouting verses above the buzz of the Edge's guitar, capping each with a nice little yo-yo of "oh oh oh oh ohs" before descending into a little bit more of a sober chorus (which just repeats the words of the song title.) Bono strains the vocal chords as he sings some existentially Bono-ish words about a girl (sample: "One day she's still, the next she swells/You can hear the universe in her sea shell/Oh yeah/Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh"). A heavy track and definitely a change of pace for the band, this is one of the album highlights. Does that say much? Read on to find out.

2. "Magnificent": The more blatant "worship" song on the album, "Magnificent" is a driving force of an ode to God, a passionate shout-out from Bono that throws together some of the Edge's jangly guitar, a synthesized something-or-other, and some heavier drums and bass, making this a high-flier rising quickly at the beginning to a rocking plateau that barely lets go. I'm just waiting for some DJ to back this song up with a throbbing dance beat and play it in the clubs. Just wait, it'll happen. Definitely another standout track, competing for my the position of my favorite track on the album.

3. "Moment of Surrender": Comparable to "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" (though miles and miles from that song's brilliance), "Moment of Surrender" is something of a mellow tune backed by an impassioned Bono yelp. At the start, with the sort of synthesized string bit and the Edge's reserved guitar strums, first impression suggests it will be a ballad; then, all of a sudden, Bono comes in from nowhere with those just-perfectly-tainted-by-cigarretes vocal chords. A passionate cry indeed, and again, a stand-out track (don't get too used to this, though; the first three are three of the album's four best songs.)

4. "Unknown Caller": So, you know how U2 is this huge arena band with tons of anthemic songs that thousands of concert-goers shout back at them in every show? Well, with "Unknown Caller," you'd think they were a band with no anthemic experience trying to put together their first go-around at a shout-along. And it's not good; melodically the song is strong, but the chanted lyrics from 1998 immediately destroy any kind of vibe the song creates (sample lyrics: "Force quit and move to trash," and "Restart and re-boot yourself.") It's a throwaway.

5. "I'll Go Crazy If I Don't Go Crazy Tonight": Another example of a not-half-bad song made bad by stupid lyrics. As happens throughout a lot of this album, Bono pushes the boundary of what kinds of strange phrases he can get away with. Sigh.

6. "Get On Your Boots": What I didn't like about this song - the first single off the record - upon first listen was how much it reminded me of "Vertigo," the first single off of How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb. As with "Vertigo," "Get On Your Boots" makes me think U2 is trying to be younger than they really are, ratcheting up the energy and rock fluff in order to score new generations of fans. It worked okay for "Vertigo," but "Get On Your Boots" is too much of a throwaway, despite it's growing on me over the last several listens (I can at least appreciate a hard-rocking song when I hear one, even if I disregard it in the grand scheme of U2-things.)

7. "Stand Up Comedy": Starts with a fun sort of "Immigrant Song"-esque guitar lick before turning into another melodically-decent-but-overall-not-that-great song.

8. "FEZ - Being Born": This track is definitely a change of pace, for the record and band in general. I have a hard time even counting it, though, considering it's a sort of mish-mash of electronic sounds that becomes a very un-U2-like spacey song. It's not bad, but it just isn't... on line with anything I can compare it to. So... yeah.

9. "White As Snow": Whose idea was it to sing an "original" U2 song along with the melody of "O Come O Come Emanuel"? Was it you, Brian Eno? Seriously, dude, what the f@%$?

10. "Breathe": Finally, something to hold on to. "Breathe" is the track competing with "Magnificent" as my favorite on the record. The faux-rap thing that Bono does throughout the verses is a little strange, but it's a good, energetic flow that backs this adrenaline-fueled song well. The chorus is probably the best part of the song, though, an instantly-memorable sing-along that is incredibly catchy. Overall, a great track that stands up to some of U2's best (but if I had to place it on best-U2-songs-of-all-time list, probably wouldn't crack the Top 50.)

11. "Cedars of Lebanon": No idea what they were thinking here. No good melody, no good lyrics, nothing about it that screams, "Hey, listen to me! I have something to say, too!" A sort of crash-to-the-end album capper.

So there you have it, my track-by-track input for No Line on the Horizon. As you can probably tell, I don't think this album is going to be taking by storm any best-of lists anytime soon. It's a decent record at best, one that hardly compares to the some of the genius records U2 has released over the last 29 years.

Going back to my thoughts on "Get On Your Boots," I think U2 is just trying too hard to be "hip" and "relevant." They seem to be over-playing and over-producing their new material, when it might be time to scale back and aim for something a little more on par with Joshua Tree.

Word on the street is that U2 has another batch of songs ready for release later this year, leftovers from the sessions that produced No Line on the Horizon. I've heard the band say it will be the Zooropa to No Line on the Horizon's Achtung Baby, and if that's the case, count me out.

Home (from the road)

I gotta get home there's a garden to tend,
There's fruit on the ground and the birds have
all moved back into my attic, whistling static
When the young learn to fly I will patch all the holes up again.

So I try to understand what I can't hold in my hand
And wherever we are, home is there too.
And if you could try to find it too, 'cause this place is overgrown
into works and bloom
Home is wherever we are, if there's love there too.

- Jack Johnson, "Home"

The bare trees of Ohio never looked so good, nor the green grass looked so green. Leaving the northeast (Saranac Lake to Watertown, south to Syracuse, west through Rochester, Buffalo and Cleveland, and south to home) and driving back into the confines of Southeast Ohio was like traveling across the line between seasons, otherwise invisible save for the east-west route 70 that practically dispatched us from the gloomy winter of the north into the new life of spring in the south.

And so we arrived home, back to Athens, one week and 1,800 miles later. Spring break 2009 completed.

Sometimes college - and life in general - backs you into a corner, holing you up in one spot that can't easily be escaped. But the world is out there, life is out there, if only you attempt to look for it. Katie and I found it all over the northeast last week.

We found it in Cumberland, Maryland, a big town too compact for more than one hotel - which was fully booked with basketball players.

We found it just across the border from Maryland in Pennsylvania, parked on the side of a winding mountain where we could overlook the sleepy valley below.

We found it in Stamford, Connecticut, in the generosity and companionship found in time spent with my grandfather.

We found it in New York City, where everything seems to be bigger than you and pretends to be more important than you - and you're reminded of the joyous life you live away from the 'epicenter.'

We found it in the welcome center in New Hampshire just across the border from Massachusetts, where we collected enough brochures to wrap Lindsay's birthday present.

We found it in Biddeford, Maine, walking along the pristine, empty beaches with Lindsay, Mark, and Sydney, fighting the biting winds.

We found it in Portland, Maine, in the hard-to-find speakeasy where we could try new beers and find comfort away from the piercing cold winds.

We found it in Burlington, Vermont, in the seafood restaurant on the side of Lake Champlain where we grabbed lunch... and then later, traveling south from Burlington, as we stared at the Adirondacks on the other side of the lake.

We found it in Lake Placid, New York, where we scored a $40 bottle of wine for free (long story) and shared a delicious greek salad and hummus, all while admiring the mountains surrounding the quiet resort town.

And we found it in Saranac Lake, New York, where, despite (or because of?) a hotel straight from "The Shining," we managed to enjoy a trip to the top of a mountain, and saw the beautiful Young Life camp that changed my life.

Now, back at college for our last quarter in Athens, we remember there is life yet to be lived. That one spot that we might end up cornered in needs to be nothing more than temporary; with a curious spirit and a seeking heart, we can celebrate the beauty of life that was intended for us.

I've uploaded the rest of the pictures from our trip; click here to check them out.

On the Road (the cold in Maine)

Katie and I are currently holed up at Lindsay and Mark's house in Biddeford, Maine, where it's about 50 degrees and sunny today. We've had sunny skies pretty much the entire trip, but it's not been much warmer than it is today (not to mention the wind here in Maine is vicious.)

Above are a few shots of our trip (the great Spring Break Trip to the Northeast 2009 Style) so far. Here is a link to the rest of our photos, if you're interested.

Tomorrow we drive through Vermont, heading to Saranac Lake in Upstate New York. I'm sure there will be many more opportunities for photos, and will add them my Flickr photo stream when I can. Also, I'll be sharing more thoughts from (or about) the road in the near future.

Spring Break

The above is a rough estimation (thanks to Paint) of mine and Katie's travels in the week ahead. We leave tomorrow for Connecticut, spend the weekend there (and Saturday in NYC), head to Maine on Monday, split for Saranac Lake, NY, on Wednesday, then emerge back in Athens sometime later next week (the travels are fairly flexible, so I'm not locking down an ETA just yet; we'll see how much we like Maine.)

I'm not entirely sure what it is about road trips that are so exciting (this road trip = just over 1,800 miles, 35 hours in a car, and 11 states visited), but Katie and I are both really pumped to get out of Athens, see the country, spend some time together, visit with family, and make some memories.

I'm also really excited to document the trip through writing, photography, and music. I'm going to try to journal every day of the trip, take loads of pictures, and complement it all with a cross-country-worthy soundtrack that perfectly details the journey we're about to go on.

See you on the other side.

March (music) Madness

March is finally here, and with it a glimmer of hope that warmth is around the corner. Of course, living in Ohio, I don't trust that warmth is here for good until mid-June (I was wearing shorts one day last week, today - Monday - it's 20 degrees. Blast you, Ohio...), so I don't get my hopes too high on days it creeps above 50 degrees.

What I do install my hopes in about this time of year, though, is the warmth delivered through music. Around the time the calendar turns to March and spring break is on the immediate horizon (God bless you, March 20), I crank up spring-inspired tunes (as in, anything upbeat and/or involving steel drums), and pack away the droning, mopey stuff (see you in about 7 months, Bon Iver) that I so often associate with the loneliness/introspection of winter. I've noted here before that I'm seasonal with music, but it's worth saying that spring is typically the most drastic evidence of this phenomenon.

(If you doubt my theory, I defy you to catch me listening to Bob Marley in a month that isn't March or April. Seriously.)

What's exciting me right now? The prospect of cranking down my windows and cranking up the new U2 album, "No Line on the Horizon," some good ol' rock 'n' roll running through my hair. Or the thought of sitting on my porch, Animal Collective's "Merriweather Post Pavilion" blaring from inside, sun shining down. (For the record, I still don't have "MPP"; been waiting for the backorder of vinyl. But I'm confident the aforementioned scene will occur.)(Tuesday edit: finally bought "MPP," along with "No Line on the Horizon," today. Super pumped. But it's still cold.)

Anyway, my point here (in case you haven't figured it out) is that my winter-to-spring music listenings transition is under way. A sampling of what sorts of artists ease their way out of hibernation during this transition:

- Bob Marley
- Red Hot Chili Peppers
- Green Day
- The Clash
- Kanye West
- Modest Mouse
- Wilco (coming to Athens April 17, oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh)
- Arcade Fire
- Band of Horses
- Rage Against the Machine
- The White Stripes
- Dispatch
- Beirut
- Ted Leo and the Pharmacists
- Flogging Molly

This spring, as I've incorporated these artists more and more into my daily listening habits, I've also had the (pleasant) distraction of several fantastic albums solidifying themselves in my rotation and proving to be seasonally appropriate offerings. Here's some new stuff I've been listening to (which will, at the end of today, be at least temporarily overshadowed by "MPP" and "No Line"):

Welcome Wagon, Welcome to the Welcome Wagon: I wrote about this late-2008 album a couple of posts back, so I won't waste too much time here rehashing what I said. Suffice it to say, this is pretty orchestral-folk-rock a-la-Sufjan Stevens (who signed the Welcome Wagon to his label and produced this debut effort.) The difference between this and Sufjan's mastery is the directly-spiritual lyrics; while Sufjan is usually ambiguous with his shout-outs to the Almighty, the Aiuto husband-wife tandem (of which Thomas Vito Aiuto is the Reverend Thomas Vito Aiuto) is up front with its odes to the Omega (ha, okay, enough with the clever word play.) Anyway, what you'll find here - and the reason its appropriate for the season - is bouncy alternative gospel, if ever there were some. The tambourines, the horn section, the banjo - it all comes together in a sunshiny way.

Andrew Bird, Noble Beast: Bird's stuff is not so much upbeat as it is, well, optimistic. His epic whistling (he's got to be the best in the whistling biz) combines with sweeping string arrangements (he's a classically-trained violinist) to create alternative rock splashed with classical and jazz, lovely tunes that explore all ends of the melodic spectrum. As the cover of the album suggests, Bird's latest, "Noble Beast," seems perfectly fit for the great outdoors; it's a naturalistic album that paints a musical beauty suited for something we can find, often, ride outside our front door. Or on a cross-country road trip. Or from deep inside a swaying, yard-side hammock. Anyway, you get the point; this is an album (similar to his others, by the way) that longs to appreciate the fresh air and warmth of spring.

M. Ward, Hold Time: Fresh off his stint with Zooey Deschanel as the Him in She & Him (a collaboration that produced an album, "Volume One," which I've grown to appreciate; keep reading this post), Matt Ward - M. Ward on the stage - recently released his sixth solo album, the 14-track LP "Hold Time." Ward's solo stuff (he collaborates with several artists in his off time, like Conor Oberst and Jim James) is a good blend of country, rock, and folk, backed by the songwriter's deep, unassuming croon that explores very little of the melodic spectrum. On "Hold Time," his work with She & Him shows, as the LP is a little more accessible, friendly, and dare I say, mainstream (if you're unfamiliar with M. Ward, this isn't a bad place to start, but I'd recommend his last album, "Post War.") None of this is to say, though, that it's bad; in fact, it's very, very good. Ward bounces out catchy tunes that sing of loneliness, love and God (a perfect rock trifecta) and the end result is a warm, alt-rock record.

She & Him, Volume One: Okay, confession time: I did not want to like this record. Sure, I was curious to know what it was like (big fan of the "Him," M. Ward), but I really didn't want to like it. Why? I guess a part of me felt a wee bit betrayed by Ward; the "She" in She & Him is Zooey Deschanel, an actress best known for her role in the Will Ferrell movie "Elf," and that sure didn't seem very cool to me. One of my favorite singer-songwriters collaborating with a sexy young Hollywood actrees? Puh-lease. I'll take a rain check. Alas, the acclaim poured in; they said Deschanel's voice was silky-smooth. They said Ward's country-rock touches brought out a 60s-rock brightness to Deschanel's lyrics. They said it was one of the best records of the year. Paste went so far as to call it the best album of 2008 (which I noted in my post of the best '08 records), a selection that I deemed nearly blasphemous. I avoided it as long as I could, but in the end, crumbled at my own demise: I bought the album for my parents for Christmas, thinking they'd like it. And they absolutely loved it. Played it during family dinner. Played it while washing dishes. Listened to it all the time. And of course, I realized I liked it too; is it the best record of 2008? No. But it is a fun trip into 60s-pop, a catchy record with some Beatles' covers to boot. So there. I like it. Now let's move on.

MGMT, Oracular Spectacular: You might know this electronic-rock duo as "that one band" that sings "that one song" from "that one movie" or "that one commercial." That's right, MGMT is responsible for "Time to Pretend," a really frickin' catchy dance number that was featured in the movie "21" and, I believe, in some car commercial (at least that's what I was told when blaring the song in my car for my roommates thinking I was hip, a realization that left me sad, confused, and very un-hip.) Anyway, truth is that this 2008 record (remember when I said there were four albums from 2008 that deserved to make my "best of" list? This and "Volume One" are them. Sorry I forgot to keep going with that) has a lot more to like than just that song, especially "Kids" and "Electric Feel," both of which are better than "Time to Pretend," in my opinion. The album gets a little soft in the second half, but ultimately is worth a listen, if only you want to dance around and get a little sweaty in the warm spring air.

Welp, that's all for now, but stay tuned for more.

(It must be noted here that this post took me four days to write. Now here I am, on Thursday, and it's nearly 60 degrees outside. Yes, welcome to Ohio. Anyway, today might be the perfect day to drive around blasting some of these tunes out the window. And I'm listening heavily to "Merriweather Post Pavilion" and "No Line on the Horizon," which I will share my views on soon.)