In July of 2007, a full six months before they released their debut album, Vampire Weekend opened for Shout Out Louds at Rickshaw Stop in San Francisco. Granted, everyone in the crowd already knew who they were — their self-released EP catapulted these Cure-covering, cardigan-wearing, Columbia college students to fame faster than your high-speed Internet access could comprehend. Critics and bloggers alike were falling over each other to heap praise on these kids from New York. Yet, when these prep school hipsters took the stage at that 250 person venue, they did not impress me. And I wasn’t alone. People were milling around on Fell St., smoking cigarettes and conversing among themselves, while Vampire Weekend played to a half-empty house on a sold-out night.

Despite that lackluster performance, I was excited to hear what a full length Vampire Weekend album would sound like. When it came out, I was left with that same empty feeling. Sure, it was an ok indie pop album with a little afro flavor, but there was nothing to justify the reviews I had read. Then Contra came out in 2010. To my ears, this sophomore release was a giant leap forward in terms of maturity, originality and enjoyability — nothing mind-blowing, but a damn fine example of modern indie pop music. I saw them play Red Rocks that year, along with Beach House and Dum Dum Girls, and it was an enjoyable show, yet it was still nothing to wet my pants over. And even with a solid supporting line-up, no more than two thirds of the seats were occupied by warm bodies. Blame it on management, promoters, or whoever, but someone over estimated the popularity of this band — a band whose popularity seemed to have peaked before they even got started.

Fast-forward a few years and you’d think the members of Vampire Weekend would be lost in side-side-side projects making atmospheric electronic black metal, or some shit like that. But instead, this band has not only held it together, they have beat the ‘indie darling’ odds and become something so much more than fancy words on a page. As all four members say goodbye to their 20′s, they are saying hello to a bright future as a band who have given up sweaters in favor of substance. Having just released their finest record to date, Vampire Weekend have broken through the buzz that can make and break bands with a click of the mouse. They are no longer the preppy hipsters that people love (or love to hate) based on image. With Modern Vampires of the City, the band has become more than what we were promised back in 2007. No longer worried about being cool, Vampire Weekend have broken through to the mainstream, and the mainstream is that much better for it.

This type of fame comes with a different level of responsibility — a responsibility they took very seriously last night. As they played their hearts out to a sold-out crowd at Red Rocks, they not only had strong new material, they were a completely different band. Gone were the nervous kids, and in their place was a true rock and roll band — a band whose tickets were fetching $100+ on craigslist in the weeks leading up to the show. Not only did they earn the love projected on them from the masses between the monoliths, they deserved the second chance that people such as myself gave them. It’s too often that I let stories, interviews and image get in the way of music I might enjoy. Last night’s performance broke through all of that. No fancy lights, no giant stage props (besides a mirror and some pillars), just a practiced band doing what they do so well. I’m sure there were haters in the crowd, hand-in-hand with a boyfriend or girlfriend or husband or wife who love the band, but I guarantee they left singing a different tune — one that had quite a few “la-la la-la-la”‘s in it.

One of the best things about Red Rocks is getting up there early, getting a good parking spot, and doing some tailgating. Cheesesteaks from Taste of Philly and Oskar Blues Tallboys (G’Knight or Deviant Dales) are my prefered fuel for a show. Last night was no exception. As the black thunder clouds rolled out of town, we were nothing but grateful that the storm has passed quickly, leaving us with only the lightest of rain in the early evening, and clear skies for the show. It might have been slightly chilly when Of Monsters and Men took the stage, but by the time they got around to their first single, “Little Talks”, rain parkas had been shed in favor of dancing for warmth. I have to admit I had my doubts about this band, but by the time they left the stage, I had a whole new perspective.

Our 10-year old daughter was with us because of Of Monsters and Men. She loves them. She was the one who informed me that they are from Iceland “just like Sigur Rós”, making me one proud parent. And as she was jumping up and down on the bench, clapping her hands and singing along, I realized I had completely misread this band. I always assumed they were a folk act following in the footsteps of Mumford & Sons and The Avett Brothers, something way too many bands are doing today, but Of Monsters and Men are something quite different. Female lead, Nanna Bryndís Hilmarsdóttir, reminds me more of Björk than Laura Marling, and their sound wouldn’t be in strange company on Arts & Crafts. In fact, I couldn’t help but think of Stars every time Þórhallsson and Hilmarsdóttir passed vocals duties back and forth. Evidently this band is a favorite among the kids, and although they’ll never top my playlists, I have to say there are much worse bands my daughter could be into. More a dual-headliner than an opening act, Of Monsters and Men had the disadvantage of playing half their set in broad daylight, but they made the most of their situation.  And if you’re going to perform during the day, you’d be hard pressed to find a better setting than Red Rocks.

Overall it was a perfect start to my 2013 Red Rocks season. I gained a newfound appreciation for both bands. We got to spend time with a friend I hadn’t seen in a couple years. And seeing our daughter truly enjoy a concert at Red Rocks was priceless. This really is why I live here.

Of Monsters and Men:
Dirty Paws
From Finner
Slow and Steady
Mountain Sound
Beneath My Bed
Skeletons (Yeah Yeah Yeahs Cover)
Your Bones
Love Love Love
King and Lionheart
Lakehouse
Little Talks
Six Weeks
Yellow Light

Little Talks (Acoustic)

Vampire Weekend:
Cousins
White Sky
Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa
I Stand Corrected
Diane Young
Step
Holiday
Unbelievers
Horchata
Everlasting Arms
A-Punk
Boston (Ladies of Cambridge)
Don’t Lie
Ya Hey
Campus
Oxford Comma
Giving Up the Gun

Obvious Bicycle
Diplomat’s Son
One (Blake’s Got a New Face)
Walcott

Setlist

If you’re a Prince fan, you’ve probably already chosen a side when it comes to The Artist’s latest tour. “Live Out Loud” has drawn praise and outrage from fans across the West. Those in favor of spending a premium to see the legendary performer in rare intimate settings had no problem forking out half a grand for a pair of tickets. Those who would rather see an arena show, with the option for less expensive seats, felt snubbed by the high ticket prices. Whether you find Prince to be a living legend or a pretentious has-been, $250 a ticket is a high price to pay for a show at the Ogden Theatre, but when you consider the fact that it only holds around 1,500 people, it’s actually not that bad. The best 1,500 seats at a Pepsi Center show would have cost well over five bills. And as far as I can tell, the naysayers did nothing to stop shows from selling out quickly, from Vancouver to San Francisco to Vegas. But here in Denver the consensus was not in Prince’s favor. The early Sunday night show was the only one that sold out, leaving scalpers holding pricey paper for the late show  – paper that dropped in value by the minute. It’s because of that surplus in tickets that we were able to catch not one, but two “once in a lifetime” shows last night. And after 3 hours of Prince with 3rd Eye Girl, I sympathize with the arguments on both sides of the coin.

$250 is a lot of money for relatively short sets. A lack of hits hurts, no matter how good the new (and obscure) material might sound. The “no photo/video” rule is fine, but respect the intelligence of your audience enough not to shove it down their throat. And open the doors and show up on time, especially for the early show — your fans paid a lot of money and waited a long time to see you, assign a little more value to their position.

Now, all those arguments aside, when Prince is on stage, with his ridiculously good band, there is nowhere else you would want to be. When he is up there, shredding his guitar to pieces, with 15 pedals in front of him, and a platinum blonde with sticks, skills and a triple kick behind him, there is a part of you that wants to make it rain $100 bills to show your appreciation for a master at work. After the show, once the adrenaline cools down, you might question some of his decisions, but from the opening riff of the retooled “Let’s Go Crazy”, until the house lights expose the decimated crowd, every moment is one to be savored.

Both shows started with a welcome/warning from Hannah Ford. The drummer for Prince’s all-female 3rd Eye Girl wanted to remind us that technology was not allowed in the audience. Anyone caught fiddling with their iPhone would be escorted out of the venue. This had already been beaten into our collective brains by security, staff and countless banners around the venue, but for some reason it was easier to swallow when Hannah assured us that just because Prince hates photos doesn’t mean she does — prompting everyone to take a few shots of her before putting the devices away for the remainder of the night.

Both performances started the same as well — the black curtain drops to expose the Purple One with his 3rd Eye trio. The filthy, guitar and bass-driven “Let’s Go Crazy”, followed by “Endorphinmachine” and “Screwdriver”. The latter of which had scrolling lyrics and a little lip syncing going on. It was from there on that the sets diverged. Each performance was heavy on deep tracks and new songs, and light on hits, but the obvious common denominator was the guitar — some tracks literally losing themselves in a feedback frenzy not often witnessed this side of the 70′s. Prince might like his “rock with a little funk”, but he likes it with a lot of hard guitar as well. The journey through the rabbithole of sound was what made these performances so unique.

Besides the wavering walls of sounds that seemed to exist outside of a setlist, new versions of “I Could Never Take the Place of Your Man”, “Bambi” and “She’s Always in My Hair” were highlights of the main set — although the cover of Joni Mitchell’s “A Case of You” was a welcome surprise. The interesting thing is, the new(er) material was the most funky — having rearranged the old stuff to be much heavier than what would be expected, it was tracks like “FixUrLifeUp” and “Cause and Effect” that had people dancing the most. But those who prefer the piano to the electric guitar were not ignored — “Sometimes It Snows in April” and “The Love We Make” both saw Prince resting his legs at the keys, while “How Come U Don’t Call Me Anymore” saw piano-Prince at his best as he shattered non-existent chandeliers with that signature falsetto.

Despite various change-ups in the set, it wasn’t until the encore that the late show really differentiated itself from the early show. The first show ended with a cover of “Play That Funky Music” while the late show saw the night’s biggest hits — “When Doves Cry”, “I Would Die 4 U”, and at least partial performances of “Housequake” and “Pop Life”. The lightning storm on the screen was an unnecessary tease, but even without “Purple Rain”, we left feeling much more satisfied after the late show.

Having seen Prince perform all his hits at an arena show in Oakland a couple years ago, I will say that despite the setlists, these were the better shows. It was just a completely different experience. I will also say that even a 5 minute sampler set at the end of the early show would have made people feel better about what they paid for — because it would be a lie to say that set didn’t end abruptly — like there was supposed to be more to come. But maybe it was just a ploy to get the crowd to buy tickets for the next show. If so, it worked for us.

(we paid $100 less than face for each ticket to the late show)

It will be interesting to see how tonight goes. If you are going, and you have the choice, I would recommend the late show. I’d place my bets on that being the best of the four.

Early Show:
Let’s Go Crazy
Endorphinmachine
Screwdriver
Dolphin
I Could Never Take the Place of Your Man
Guitar
Plectrum Electrum
FixUrLifeUp
Sometimes It Snows in April
Colonized Mind
Bambi
Cause and Effect
Compassion

She’s Always in My Hair
Dreamer
Play That Funky Music

Late Show:
Let’s Go Crazy
Endorphinmachine
Screwdriver
She’s Always in My Hair
A Case Of You
The Ride
Liathach
How Come U Don’t Call Me Anymore
The Love We Make
I Could Never Take the Place of Your Man
Crimson & Clover / Wild Thing
So Far, So Pleased
Stratus
Plectrum Electrum

The Max
When Doves Cry
Nasty Girl (clip)
Pop Life (clip)
Darling Nikki (clip)
A Love Bizarre (clip)
Housequake (partial)
I Would Die 4 U

selections

Searching for Sugar Man is a documentary film about a couple guys from Cape Town who decide to find out what happened to a musician named Sixto Rodriguez — an artist they believe to be dead. The big reveal comes about halfway through the film when they discover the artist is very much alive, and living in Detroit, completely unaware of his popularity in South Africa. Contrary to popular belief, the film isn’t necessarily about the artist himself, as much as it is about the lives of those his music affected. Unknown to Rodriguez, his 1970 album Cold Fact was a raging success halfway across the world from where he was living in relative obscurity. In fact, it was so successful that it helped spark an uprising against the inhumane apartheid system — making Rodriguez more popular than Elvis Presley and Bob Dylan. What these South Africans didn’t know was that Cold Fact, and its follow-up, Coming from Reality, bombed in the U.S., leaving Rodriguez to spend the rest of his life performing hard labor to make a living and raise his daughters.

When the film won an Oscar for Best Documentary Feature earlier this year, Rodriguez did not perform (or even show up) to the awards ceremony, but he was already on the Spring line-up for a performance at the Ogden Theatre in April. With two tickets in hand, I was very much looking forward to seeing this lost legend, so I was slightly disappointed when the Oscar-interest caused the show to not only sell out, but to be moved to the much larger 1stBank Center. As happy as I was that Rodriguez had achieved an overdue level of success in his own country, I couldn’t help but think I was robbed of the experience of seeing him at the Ogden. And although I still feel that way, the 7th row center seats at 1stBank turned out to be a great place to witness the return of the sugar man.

After being walked to the front of the stage (he is going blind) by his daughter, we were informed “the search is over…” Rodriguez started right into “Climb Up on My Music”. Backed by a young trio of musicians, the man who moved people to riot in South Africa stood perfectly still, with a black hat concealing his face, while his hand flew across his guitar like a butterfly in a light breeze. He was subtle and quiet — too quiet. My initial reaction was that he was too old to be on stage. This ghost-like presence continued for the first half hour of the show –through tracks such as “I Wonder”, “Inner City Blues” and “Street Boy”. Not a word spoken out of song except for a few whispered instructions to his band. It wasn’t until he freed himself from his jacket that the whole mood of the show changed.

Almost like Superman shedding his Clark Kent costume, the quiet man who had occupied the stage since 9pm turned it up about ten notches for Little Richards’ “Lucille”. He went on to give his guitar a little work-out for “Sugar Man” before showing his sense of humour by describing the song as “descriptive not prescriptive”. From there on out, he was at home in his own skin — taking the audience through his two albums, as well as a selection of covers. The silent shadow was now cracking silly jokes about cannibals and clowns, and Mickey Mouse accusing Minnie Mouse of fucking Goofy. He even made fun of himself when he needed assistance after accidentally dropping his instrument — “I just want to be treated like an ordinary legend”.

Some momentum was lost between songs as Rodriguez and the band would have short discussions among themselves, but even that was explained away with a laugh — “I’m 70 now, so I’ve got to use my senior advantage”. That senior advantage might explain the slow start to the show, but by the time the main set ended with “Forget It”, everyone forget the shy silhouette who was walked on to the stage — everyone was on their feet, cheering for the rock star that had just walked off the stage. They were still standing and cheering when he returned for “Like a Rolling Stone” — a song he performed better than I have ever heard Dylan do it in a live setting. And while his version of “I Only Have Eyes for You” felt forced and flat, it did nothing to tarnish the performance that came before.

Without the documentary, there wouldn’t have been a few thousand people at the concert on Tuesday night; but without the talent, there wouldn’t have been a documentary. Rodriguez’s day might have come 40 years after the fact, but his performance proved it didn’t come too late.

Aside from the concert itself, I want to address a couple other things before I end this post…

First, if I didn’t like Rodriguez’s music, I would not have been at the show. His albums, as well as the Searching soundtrack, have been on heavy rotation for the past year or so. His story peaked my interest, his music made me stay.

Second, even if his obscurity was exaggerated in the film, it doesn’t change the fact that this guy (who should have been as least as popular as Dylan) was completely unaware that his album was selling millions of copies in another country. Documentaries dramatize their subjects all the time, but just a little research will prove that the story of Rodriguez is an amazing one. And one listen to Cold Fact will have you shaking your head in bewilderment. The fact that that album is not a staple in every American home is tragic.

Setlist:
Climb Up on My Music
Only Good for Conversation
I Wonder
Inner City Blues
Just One of Those Things
This Is Not a Song, It’s an Outburst: Or, The Establishment Blues
Street Boy
Lucille
Sugar Man
Can’t Get Away
Sea of Heartbreak
Blue Suede Shoes
Like Janis
Crucify Your Mind
You’d Like To Admit
Fever
To Whom It May Concern
Rich Folks Hoax
I Think of You
Forget It

Like a Rolling Stone
I Only Have Eyes for You

Setlist

As we made our usual walk from Cheeky Monk to the Ogden Theatre on Sunday night, we were among an unusual crowd for that particular stretch of Colfax. James Blake was in town for the first time and his presence brought out a unique crowd — a procession of the fashionable otherwise unknown in the Denver music scene. Sure, the usual suspects were out hawking tickets, scrounging for smokes and asking for change, but their potential clientele were of a different cut than those who frequent events like the Global Dub Festival. Unlike a young Mr. Blake circa 2010, I don’t want to offend the purveyors of American dubstep, or the youth who throw themselves off the edge of sanity for the “drop”, but it would be a lie to say this particular show didn’t attracted a mature, refined, and downright more fashionable audience than anything Skrillex or Rusko will ever see reveling in their pretty lights…

But that’s because James Blake is something completely different than anything you’ll witness in the resurgence of the U.S. rave scene. It doesn’t make sense to even speak about him in the same sentence, yet time and time again the conversation turns that way — prompting Blake himself to comment on ‘brostep’ when he should have been above speaking out against any scene in which he is not a part. James Blake is an incredible producer, I task you with finding a relevant DJ working today who will argue that point, but that is only one side of the coin — or should I say EP. As we saw on Sunday night, the tracks from Blake’s EPs are extremely repetitive, bass heavy, wrinkles in time that send the female audience into howls of ecstasy which would not be out of place at the Mega-Dub festivals. But it’s the majority of the material — the tracks that appear on his two full length albums — that really showcase what makes James Blake special.

There is a piano-driven folk singer side of James Blake which recalls Justin Vernon more than William Bevan. It’s this human side, spread thick over his massive (yet fragile) layers of bass, that achieves the impossible by giving electronic music a soul. This diverse, but inseparable skill set is what makes it possible for a sixteen year old girl in the front row to dance (or at least sway) all night, while a 40 year old man sits in the balcony and sips a drink, and have them both enjoy the experience equally. This is what happened on Sunday night. James Blake, and his band of two, seamlessly traversed the intricacies of (british) dubstep and (british) folk with steady hands and clear heads. The light show was classy, not flashy. The music and production spoke for itself, so Mr. Blake didn’t have to. He just sat there at his keyboard and let those in the crowd decide how to be moved. It was the right call.

James Blake was an indie darling when he performed a limited number of shows in small venues across the U.S. in 2011. Tickets sold out instantly and were going for hundreds of dollars on craigslist. This time around he doesn’t seem to be getting the same type of attention. But that’s ok. It might almost be better that way. This is a performance you want to see in an intimate setting with an intimate partner. I would hate to see it become something other than that.

Setlist:
Air & Lack Thereof
I Never Learnt to Share
To The Last
Lindisfarne I
Lindisfarne II
CMYK
Our Love Comes Back
Digital Lion
Unluck
Limit to Your Love
Klavierwerke
Overgrown
Voyeur
Retrograde

The Wilhelm Scream
A Case of You

Setlist

After spending 36 years on this planet, you’d think there would be certain truths that would be ingrained in my mind and person. Especially when the universe has tried so damn hard to teach me these things…

No matter how nice the weather, don’t day drink before a late night show.

No matter how tired you are after day drinking, mixing Red Bull with vodka is never a good idea.

No matter how much energy you have after that deadly concoction, a punk rock pit is not a safe place for a drunk old man.

And no matter how much fun you are having in that pit, your extended social network does not need a play-by-play.

You would think that those would be pretty simple rules to follow. You would think. But as I struggled to open my eyes Sunday morning, I realized that there are certain nights when the most simple of things can be hard for someone lacking luck like me self control.

When the Golden Gods shine bright rays of much missed sun down on the patios of Denver, and the beer is flowing like wine, all while the kid is away at a sleepover, the parents must play like the kids they once were. I believe that’s written in the Bible somewhere. And when AEG throws down free Face to Face tickets, it’s just another sign from above that it’s time to act like a 17-year-old who has nothing to lose!

Or maybe I read the signs wrong? Either way, by the time Face to Face took the stage at the Gothic Theatre for the second of their 2 night run, I could have dove from the balcony and felt no pain.

The “Gaslight Anthem-like’ Blacklist Royals and Teenage Bottlerocket proved excellent openers, each in their own way. I am always a bit weary of any band that formed after 2000 being call “old school”, but Teenage Bottlerocket reminded me that just because I exited a scene over 15 years ago doesn’t mean the scene doesn’t still exist. Punk rock, skate punk, pop punk — call it what you will, this is feel good music. If I was ever going to use the popular exaggeration that a ‘music’ saved my life, it would be about the Fat Wreck Chords bands of the early 90′s. As these feelings of nostalgia sloshed around with the beer, liquor and sugary energy drink, a dangerous chemical reaction formed, and all it needed was a spark.  That spark turned out to be “I’m Not Afraid” from 1992′s Don’t Turn Away. I slammed my last drink and threw myself into the pit.

And that’s where things get blurry.   According to my handy Notes app, it seems I tried to keep a setlist while being slammed around. I’m just amazed that parts of it actually make sense…

Now, my intoxicated state didn’t stop me from enjoying the show, it just makes it a little hard to review. Those punk anthems are so much a part of my life, that it really wouldn’t have been possible for me to have a bad time. I know every word to every song that came out before 1996. And even though the new songs had unfamiliar lyrics, they all had that classic SoCal sound.

Now that the hangover is gone, and I’m able to look back on the evening, it makes me smile that I can still go a little ‘punk rock’ and make some mistakes in my old age. I have a few more bruises and a few less brain cells because of it, but it’s all worth it!  And while I can’t say I learned any new truths, maybe next time I’ll pass on the Red Bull…I’m pretty sure that shit is poison!

Some of the songs they played:
123 Drop
Walk the Walk
I’m Not Afraid
A-OK
Bright Lights Go Down
You’ve Done Nothing
Ordinary
Walk Away
Pastel
Smokestacks and Skyskrapers
Blind
Velocity
Complicated
Big Choice

But it’s really not that bad, is it? If you’re reading this, you probably live in the greater Denver area — and what a weekend it was in the greater Denver area! Record Store Day, the first “legal” 420 celebrations, three nights of Lucero (including an acoustic recording at Illegal Pete’s) and more breweries and distilleries opening every day. The weather was nice (most of the time) and while their was a shooting, no one was seriously injured. Not bad for a few days in the Mile High City. It’s no wonder that a band who tours 300 days a year would want to camp out here for awhile. It’s no wonder that despite countless cites and towns across the country, Lucero has settled on Denver as their second home.

There was a time, not too long ago, when I would have gone to all three shows, but I was only able to make it to Saturday night this time around. I realize a lot people would be nervous about seeing a band like Lucero on their third night, as they have become quite notorious over the past 15 years — notorious for three hour sets, drinking from the bottle and pulling all-nighters, but those who know them, know that nothing gets in the way of the show. When we spoke with Ben (in his usual spot, chain smoking in front of the Bluebird), he confessed that the city’s hospitality had him feeling a little rough around the edges, but just moments later he was following a fan across the street to Goosetown for more of that local hospitality.  And while Ben (like myself) doesn’t celebrate 420 the same way most of you do, he decided drinking twice as much would be a fitting compromise. That sounded logical to me, so I switched it up from beer to whiskey and let the band take me down those dirt roads where men kiss bottles instead of girls, boys join the army instead of falling in love, and states like Texas and Tennessee blur together into one song.

Writing a review of a Lucero show (experience) in Denver is like reviewing your buddy’s party. If you weren’t there, you probably don’t want to hear about it, and if you were sober enough to remember the whole thing, then you probably didn’t do it right. I’m not sure if the experience is the same in every town, but when Lucero plays the Bluebird, they are playing for keeps. Career-spanning sets with no apologies. There is no barrier or filter between band and fan. The boys hang out at the bar, on the street and in the pisser. They seem to be anywhere but backstage. At one point Ben said he used to apologize for so many slow songs, but “fuck it, I don’t give a shit, at this point we’re all family!”.

And that couldn’t be more true. Lucero might be from the South, but every time they come to Denver it’s a homecoming. And although it’s always sad to see them go, if they didn’t leave we’d all be broke and unemployed. So stop reading this, put some drops in those bleeding eyes and get your ass to work! The playlist below should help ease the pain.

Setlist:
The Devil and Maggie Chascarillo
On My Way Downtown
Nights Like These
I’ll Just Fall
Women & Work
Joining the Army / Little Silver Heart
When I Was Young
Juniper
Slow Dancing
Chain Link Fence
Colorado Girl
Kiss the Bottle
Texas & Tennessee
Other Side of Lonesome
Ain’t So Lonely
Happy Birthday
Breathless Love
Bikeriders
Mom
Shelter
Hold Me Close
The War
Mine Tonight
That Much Further West
Tears Don’t Matter Much

Drink ‘Till We’re Gone
All Sewn Up
Goodbye Again

setlist

After standing around for over an hour, listening to some drunk dude yell “MOTHER” over and over and over again, only to be disappointed by an aborted set at Fun Fun Fun Fest in 2011, I swore I would never buy a ticket to see Danzig again. Glenn could take his “Legacy”, soak it in his French Onion soup, and stick it up his ass.

As the public was made aware of the series of events that led to the plug being pulled, my anger turned to amazement — amazement that Glenn Danzig could still surprise people with his diva ways. Over the course of 12 hours, he had managed to pole vault over the bar of disrespect that he had already set so high. Instead of the trifecta Danzig/Samhain/Misfits set we were promised, we got a few songs and and enough comedic material to last the rest of the festival.

I will never be a Glenn Danzig apologist, but I do have to give credit where credit is due. Every other time I’ve seen him, he’s put on a great show. Those shows were what I was thinking about when I rolled the dice and purchased two tickets to Danzig’s 25th Anniversary Tour. Over those 25 years, Danzig has released very few songs that I do not enjoy, and the the excitement of seeing Doyle come out for the Misfits set I was robbed of in 2011 was just too much to contain. It was a gamble, but it was a gamble worth taking.

As it turns out, this time the odds were in my favor. Anyone who has seen Danzig on a good night knows how good he can be, and this was one of those nights. The band took the stage (on time!) just after 10:00pm with “Skincarver”. And as always, it took a couple songs for the soundboard to get Glenn’s vocals right, but by the time we were promised that no more “new” songs would be played, the sound had improved greatly. Just a quick glance at the setlist below will provide some insight into why this show was so good. From “Twist of Cain” through “How the Gods Kill”, Danzig and his band made up for screwing me over on that night in Austin. And the best was yet to come…

When Doyle hit that stage like a freak off his leash, chaos ensued. Multiple pits, divided by the layers of the theater, sucked innocent bystanders into whirlpools of death. The Misfits set that we’d all come to see was everything we’d hoped it would be. As they tore through tracks that most of us were too young to have ever seen live before, you could only imagine what it must have been like in the late-70′s/early-80′s.

The mini-set started with “Death Comes Ripping” and ended with “Last Caress”, and it wasn’t until Doyle left the stage and I was able to calm down a bit that I realized what a monster he is. The make-up, the hair — his agelessness and pure size — you really have to wonder if he is a real human being.

Whatever he is, he was gone too soon, but the Danzig set continued with a great run of songs that ended with “Mother”. By that point there were some issues with the sound again, but we were all too amped up for it to be a real problem. In fact, there weren’t any real problems the whole night. Danzig managed to get through an entire set without any type of bitch session. It was more than anyone could have expected, but then something else happened…we got not one, but two encores!

After “Long Way Back From Hell”, Doyle came back for “Skulls” — probably the highlight of the whole night. And while I do appreciate the 2nd encore, “Skulls” is hard to follow, and I’m not sure “London Dungeon” did the trick. But who am I to complain about one more Misfits song?

Say what you will about Danzig (I have probably said the same thing), but when the guy is in the mood to perform, he is one of the best in the business. The fact that he’s still putting out great albums after so many years is a testament to his talent. Sure, he might be more grumpy than evil these days, but I don’t need to like the guy to appreciate his music and enjoy the hell out of his shows!

Happy Anniversary Glenn, thanks for showing up!

Setlist:
SkinCarver
Hammer of the Gods
Twist of Cain
Am I Demon
Her Black Wings
Devil’s Plaything
Blood and Tears
Dirty Black Summer
How the Gods Kill
It’s Coming Down
Death Comes Ripping
Vampira
I Turned Into a Martian
Night of the Living Dead
Astro Zombies
Last Caress
Soul on Fire
Not of This World
Mother

Long Way Back from Hell
Skulls

London Dungeon

setlist

“…have you ever been to Denver on a Tuesday?“

American Aquarium are a rock band with country luck. They were raised on small town hymns, their women lie and cheat, they drink a lot of whiskey, and their parents are disappointed in their decisions. Their lives consist of driving 23 hours from one town to the next; through blizzards, road closures and Wyoming State Troopers, just to be upstaged by “trivia night” at the local BBQ joint/bowling alley/music hall. Not only that, at the first sight of a little cash, their guitarist hops a flight to go get high with his cousins while the rest of the crew cross the country in a van that “smells as bad” as the rest of them look. It’s a tough life for these boys from Raleigh, North Carolina.

On the flipside, it’s gotta feel pretty damn good to take the stage at 11:00pm on a Tuesday night in Denver and have the audience know all the words to all your songs — especially the ones from Burn.Flicker.Die..

Their most recent album (produced by Jason Isbell) has been on repeat since the day Ninebullets labeled it “Essential Listening”. And while I agree that we arn’t all rock stars and we can’t all relate to “road songs”, I would argue that the guys in American Aquarium arn’t rock stars either, and these arn’t “road songs” as much as “life songs”. Or should I say “lifestyle songs”? If your lifestyle involves going to shows, hanging out at dive bars and drinking with friends, then you should have no problem relating to the material on Burn.Flicker.Die. — or any other American Aquarium album for that matter. Shit, even if you’ve never been cheated on, you’d have to be half-dead not to raise your glass and sing along with “I Hope He Breaks Your Heart”. Even the chicks who’ve cheated were singing along with that one!

“…people don’t believe us when we say it’s a bowling alley, bbq joint and music venue…thank you for running Narnia for us.“

You might laugh at the idea of seeing a band at a place like Moe’s, but I assure you, there is no better way to see a band than in a dive bar with a handful of people in attendance. It becomes something more than just a show. You’re not just seeing a band crank out a bunch of songs, you are getting to know the musicians. You’re making a connection that’s impossible to make by listening to the album at home. There were actual conversations throughout the set last night. We heard the back-stories that led to each song. There was encouragement from the crowd. Shots were traded back and forth. Some dude kept throwing personal belongings onto the stage for no apparent reason (boots, socks, keys, phone, hat) and it was totally ok. We were all in on the joke.

Going to shows like this makes me remember why I started going to shows in the first place. Obviously it’s about the music, if I didn’t like the music I wouldn’t be there, but it’s also about a sense of community. American Aquarium brought that to Denver on Tuesday night — a Tuesday night when thousands of misguided people spent hundreds of dollars to see Bon Jovi perform a sterile, choreographed show at the Pepsi Center.

I wasn’t at the Pepsi Center, so I can’t speak with authority, but I’d bet the $8 I spent to see American Aquarium that I made the right choice. The 40-50 of us at Moe’s had a better time, heard better songs, and felt better about ourselves the next morning — because we hung out with good people making good music. Bon Jovi is a brand, American Aquarium are a band — and that’s really the difference here. The show reminded me of those first times I saw Lucero and Drive-By Truckers. It reminded me of recent Arliss Nancy shows. These are the bands that make going to shows worthwhile. And by the way they played their hearts out, I’m guessing we make it worthwhile for them as well.

Setlist:
St. Mary’s
Katherine Belle
Ain’t Going to the Bar Tonight
Saturday Nights
Cape Fear River
Tennessee
Rattlesnake
Casualties
Abe Lincoln
Look At Miss Ohio (Gillian Welch)
Excuse Me While I Break My Own Heart (Whiskeytown)
Lonely Ain’t Easy
I Hope He Breaks Your Heart
Jacksonville
Burn.Flicker.Die

Setlist

Death rode in on a pale white horse. Well, actually, the surviving members of the Human-era line-up of Death rode in on a bus while the city was being blanketed by pale white sheets of Spring snow. The roads into the city were not a pretty sight, as cars and trucks were slipping and sliding and getting stuck in the fast accumulating slush before plows were able to clear the highways. But weather, horses and death aside, those who were able to find their way to the Gothic Theatre last night were very much alive. And there were many who did find their way. The second stop on the Death to All 2013 Tour might not have sold-out, but it was anything but an empty house. I’m sure the weather and roads kept many from traveling further than from the outskirts of the city (North and West of Denver were getting pounded), and there are many disappointed death metal fans out there today, but despite the unfortunate storm, the show was a success in terms of attendance, enthusiasm and sound. I can only imagine Chuck would have been proud of the performance his former bandmates pulled off in his absence, and in his honor.

The latest incarnation of Death To All, a tribute tour comprised of members of the late Chuck Schuldiner’s definitive death metal band, Death, includes Paul Masvidal on guitar, Steve DiGiorgio on bass, Sean Reinert on drums and the relatively unknown Max Phelps on guitar and vocals. With the exception of Phelps, these are the guys who recorded the groundbreaking Human album with Schuldiner in 1991. These are guys Evil Chuck referred to as trusted friends in a tribute collage that acted as an intermission half way through the show. The fact that these musicians played on the actual recording of the six tracks they performed from Human made this something more than just a tribute band. But on the flipside, everyone would agree that Death is not Death without Schuldiner. Schuldiner was Death. And that’s what was so great about last night’s show. This was not some money grab. No one on that stage, or behind the scenes of this tour, is trying to continue the Death legacy without its founder. Instead, they are celebrating Schuldiner’s life and legacy. The banner hanging behind the stage wasn’t there to fool anyone, it was there to make you remember. The images, videos, banter, chants — they were all about a guy named Chuck who changed what extreme music could be. Even Phelps was able to find a perfect balance between imitation, respect, aggression and humility.

Besides the tribute video, a few words from both Steve and Paul, and a few clips (including Rosemary’s Baby before “Suicide Machine”), the band let the songs speak for themselves — allowing those in the pit (or with their eyes closed) to believe they were back in the 80′s and 90′s. From the pummeling intro of “Flattening of Emotions”, to the last growl of “Pull The Plug”, the true fans in the crowd were taken on a trip through Death’s first four albums, and transported back to a time they thought long gone. For those of us who discovered Death too late to have memories of those days, it was awesome just to be there to share this event with those who had.

The fact that Schuldiner’s family is behind this tour and much of the proceeds go to Sweet Relief make this event something special. In fact, it’s really the only way something like this could happen. And while it sucks it had to happen on a night like last night, Steve DiGiorgio summed it up pretty well when he said “it always snows when metal bands come to town…tomorrow will be clear and you’ll go back to work”. And that’s what we did, but not without the “Zombie Ritual” ringing in our heads.

Setlist:
Flattening of Emotions
Leprosy
Suicide Machine
Left to Die
Spiritual Healing / Within The Mind
Together as One
Baptized in Blood
Secret Face
Cosmic Sea
Zombie Ritual
Living Monstrosity

Lack of comprehension
Pull the Plug

Setlist

The secret to a happy ending is knowing when to roll the credits…but not tonight!

When Patterson Hood uttered those words during “World of Hurt”, there was no doubt he was trying to convince himself as much as those in the crowd. It’s no secret that Drive-By Truckers have had their share of hurt over the years, and the veterans of that band who rocked the Boulder Theater for almost 3 hours last night did nothing to hide their battle scars. Having seen the Truckers over a dozen times now, I have to say this was a very different experience than any that came before. The music was incredible (as always) and I’ll never complain about a Cooley-heavy setlist, but there was no escaping the void. It wasn’t just the absence of Shonna and Neff, it wasn’t just the memory of Craig, and it wasn’t just the ‘extremely out-of-place, smiley-mess’ Matt Patton — it was all of that, and something more.

Patterson Hood and Mike Cooley have always been the backbone of this band, but last night they seemed like they were just doing a job. They did their job extremely well, but their hearts and souls weren’t in it. Patterson usually leaves everything in a pool of sweat on the stage; last night I feel like he left it on the bus. After seeing the talkative side of Cooley on his recent solo tour, I would have expected him to pick up where Patterson fell in the personality department, but not a word escaped his mouth that didn’t belong to a song.

If this were my first Truckers show, I probably would have left impressed by an extremely good band, but there were very few newbies in the crowd last night, and those who were watching close enough witnessed an extremely good band on autopilot — something I never thought I would say about the Drive-By Truckers.

There have been countless glowing reviews of DBT shows on this blog already, so I don’t have to tell you how much I enjoy the ‘rock shows’. Last night’s show was no exception in that department. I was front and center when they took the stage, and I didn’t leave until the last song was done. Aside from the obvious classics, I was extremely stoked to hear “Tornadoes”, “Road Cases”, “Love Like This” and “The Company I Keep”. However, I was surprised at how many of the slower, darker songs there were. Usually the Truckers are genius at changing it up on the fly based on the crowd response, but last night we were all going to the dark place, like it or not. I, for one, really like the dark place, some of their best lyrics and riffs come from the bowels of our country, but usually they seem to enjoy playing them more. Last night Patterson looked as if he were in physical pain, and maybe he was, he did make comments about drinking a lot of cough syrup, but here’s where the real issue became apparent — it’s not that the band was out of sync with the crowd, it was that they were out of sync with each other either. Actually, I should rephrase that as ‘one of these guys was not like the others’…

Matt Patton. Shonna’s replacement. What the hell man? No offense, but no one came here to see you. So why can’t you just chill out and play bass? Shonna never tried to grandstand. What are you trying to prove? You look like a kid who just snuck on stage with your idols. I have nothing against your playing, but your whole attitude and stage presence is bizarre, irritating, and worse of all, extremely distracting. Please stop. Thank you.

When I interviewed Cooley a few months ago, he was so bright on the future. He said how much he was looking forward to recording new material with the new band. He mentioned how him and Patterson had gotten past all the bullshit and had a great working relationship. The way he spoke about it, I expected great things — despite the turn-over. When Isbell left the band, they went into the studio and recorded Brighter Than Creation’s Dark. I love that album. The tour that followed contained some of the best Truckers shows I have ever witnessed. But last night lacked any new material. And if Cooley ever acknowledged the other members of the band while on stage, I must have blinked and missed it. But the one place Cooley stepped up is with his songs, performing material from almost every DBT album. And I guess that’s all that really matters in the long run.

The encore really summed up the mood of the evening. “Birthday Boy” and “Girls Who Smoke” explore the impermanence of youth and the fear of becoming old and irrelevant. “A World of Hurt” claims that everything in life, even the good things, are painful. “Shut Up and Get on the Plane” is about facing the hard truth that everybody dies and there’s nothing you can do about it. And then there’s Jim Carroll’s “People Who Die” — a staple show closer for years now. The difference with last night’s version is that it was the first time Patterson showed any real emotion the whole evening. That emotion was actual pain and anguish. After throwing his guitar at his tech, he exercised his demons through song. As he leaned over the crowd, screaming “Those are people who died, died!!! They were all my friends, and they died!!!”, you could almost see Craig’s face reflecting in his eyes. But as they band walked off the stage, I couldn’t help but wonder if this is the beginning of the end of Drive-By Truckers? Is that why this set seemed so full of sorrow and regret?

Or did Patterson just have a cold?

I really can’t say. Maybe it’s the end. Maybe I’m just being dramatic.

There was a part of me that wanted to go to the second show tonight, just to see if the mood was different, but there was another part of me that just couldn’t get this image out of my head…

Setlist:
Lookout Mountain
A Ghost to Most
Heathens
Sounds Better in the Song
(Something’s Got To) Give Pretty Soon
Get Downtown
Drag The Lake Charlie
Where The Devil Don’t Stay
Tornadoes
Women Without Whiskey
Box of Spiders
Carl Perkins’ Cadillac
Feb 14
Marry Me
Sink Hole
Uncle Frank
Road Cases
Self Destructive Zones
Play It All Night Long
Love Like This
The Company I Keep
Zip City

Birthday Boy
Girls Who Smoke
Three Dimes Down
A World Of Hurt
Shut Up And Get On The Plane
People Who Died

Setlist

Some friends of mine were lucky enough to witness Sigur Rós perform in Iceland last year and I’ve been meaning to ask them if the locals were singing along.  Granted, some of the lyrics are sung in Jónsi’s own Hopelandic tongue, but I’m almost positive that the majority of sounds escaping his mouth are truly Icealandic. And I have to wonder whether any words can stand up under the weight of such emotion — under the pure power of a Sigur Rós performance. I have been so afraid of what would be lost in translation that I’ve never even bothered to research what the words ‘sigur rós’ mean. But now I’ve got to wonder whether those kids in Iceland hear what I hear when they listen to albums such as Ágætis byrjun and Takk….  I’ve got to wonder if they sing along at the shows. Are they able to escape into their own bodies — using this epic music as a portal to something dreams are made of? Or are they grounded by the literal meaning of each track?

Those were the thoughts that were occupying my mind while I waited for the band to take the stage at 1stBank Center last night. But as soon as the lights went down and the shadows behind the curtain began to move, all real-world thoughts were put aside as I was carried away to a place where words are nothing more than tonal characters in a world where sound reigns supreme. Meaning is not only open to interpretation, it is also free to be completely ignored.

The show opened with nothing but shadows behind a curtain.  Arms beating a drum, unknown entities with a variety of instruments, and a giant Jónsi caressing his guitar with a cello bow. The barrier between the band and audience sustained an enigmatic level that seemed to have been lost some time ago. When the band went on hiatus a few years back, and Jónsi explored his solo project, Sigur Rós lost a little of its mystery. The fact that real human beings made this music — human beings with creative difference and real ‘human being’ problems — took some of the magic out of the music. Instead of images of barren lands, and underwater explorations, I could only picture the faces of the men behind the sound. The shadow curtain allowed me to sustain a level of disbelief for a few brief moments.  It reminded me of a time when I was in a club in Brisbane, Australia where Sigur Rós had played the night before — the bouncer was explaining their sound to a couple teen-aged girls as ‘whales humping’. Before the curtain fell, with images of the Northern Lights reflecting off its surface, you could almost believe a circle-of-life type event was happening right there on the stage.

When the dramatic unveiling of the band happened during the climax of “Ný Batterí”, there might not have been any whales making love, but the 12 people performing that most-epic of songs sent a surge through the audience that caused a tidal wave of applause. In fact, premature appreciation became common throughout the night, as the crowd wasn’t familiar with how quiet some of the selections can get, before exploding back into existence without warning.

For the next two hours, the audience at the 1stBank Center were able to forget they just paid $10 to park in a dirt lot at a zero-personality corporate event center. Once those lights were down, we were treated to a visual experience comparable to that of Pink Floyd. Yet, looking around the arena, so many people had their eyes closed — just riding the waves vibrating off the stage.One great thing about 1stBank is that the sound is amazing. I doubt there was an inch of that place that didn’t sound perfect.

The set was heavy with material from Takk…, which made me very happy, but they also threw in a couple tracks from Ágætis byrjun and ( ) — making it an incredible set for those of us who have been fans for a long time. As for new material, it’s almost as if the band has shunned their latest effort, Valtari — going with no less than 4 tracks from their upcoming album instead. The Kveikur material showcases a much darker, almost industrial side of the band — something I welcome with open arms.

So when it comes down to it, I will never be able to unlearn what I now know about Sigur Rós.  They will never be the mystery they were to me when I first discovered them. But they will also never be ‘just another band’. Jónsi might have become a bona fide rock star, and there were moments last night when the band resembled Explosions in the Sky, Radiohead and Nine Inch Nails — but Sigur Rós will always be something completely different. They will always be a band that can transcended language. Never before have I been so moved by something I can’t even understand.

Setlist:
Yfirborð
Ný Batterí
Vaka
Hrafntinna
Sæglópur
Fljótavík
E-bow
Varúð
Hoppípolla
Með Blóðnasir
Olsen Olsen
Kveikur
Festival
Brennisteinn

Glósóli
Popplagið

Setlist