September 2005 Archives

eleven shows in the next 45 days.

eleven.

that averages out to two a week.

seriously.

good thing I bought that camera.

I am just beyond pathetic.

one stupid little night with one stupid little boy and I'm reduced to staring out the window. listening to angst-ridden chick music with meaningful lyrics and hauntingly perfect chord progressions. wondering what went wrong.

right.

see, I've got this funny way of doing things. a lot of people, most regular folks, will... burn themselves on a stove, perhaps. and have it hurt. and then the next time they went near a stove, they would remember what happened last time, and like, get a potholder. or something. the point being that they wouldn't just put their hand right onto the burner again. because it hurt. because they would have learned from it.

now, I've got this other thing going on, where in this same analogy (or whatever the fuck it is) I have to suffer multiple third degree burns and get rushed to the hospital at least once to learn that I can't touch the fucking stove. and even still, after all of that, I walk by the stove and go, well, it can't be that hot, can it?

so I got burned. again. and I've got to write (type) it up here, and get it the fuck out of my head, because I have gotten so completely uncomfortable as a result of my actions that I want to stab myself. so put on your earmuffs, go back to your email, whatever it is you want or need to do if you don't want to read about my personal life in great depth. I mean, it's my blog and all, but I thought I'd at least give you some notice.

so we'll set up the scene (and start another paragraph with so): picture Yours Truly, the absolute photograph of mental health. who hasn't fooled around or otherwise gotten involved with a boy since The Boy. who has taken close to a year-long hiatus from relationships because people she respected immensely told her that it might be a good idea. healed, healthy, ready to rock. so healthy that she's stopped looking, that the boys are starting to look for her - twenty-five pounds lighter and counting. into her own art and digging the scene with some good friends and really, really taking care of herself in a way she never has before.

enter Cute Boy, stage right. Cute Boy comes on the new haven scene packing the legitimate amount of time to be a viable candidate, has a minor setback, but pulls through. Cute Boy is also ridiculously nice, knows how to dance, holds open doors, and is friends with friends of Yours Truly. Cute Boy and Yours Truly have a little soft spot for each other from the start, and in the spirit of Doing The Right Thing make sure that they are not engaging in any type of Inappropriate Contact.

this goes on for a few months, until Cute Boy lets it leak that he has a little bit of a crush on Yours Truly. enter Raging Hormones. now Doing The Right Thing takes a back seat to Accidental Touching and all the things that go with it - Cute Boy and Yours Truly are sitting together at movies and diners and are even risking the occasional phone call, knowing it's probably not Right but doing it anyways. so the Raging Hormones proceed to pull out a few more stops and before anybody can say "constitutionally incapable" Cute Boy and Yours Truly find themselves on a camping trip with Sensitive Friend #1 and Sensitive Friend #2 (who are already in a Super Secret Double Probation Behind The Scenes Relationship).

apparently The Tent is big enough for Cute Boy and Yours Truly to sleep in seperately, until the Raging Hormones and the subzero temperatures come along to bring things to yet another level. to keep it brief (and non-pornographic): Cute Boy says All The Right Things to Yours Truly and winds up Charming My Pants Off. there is much giggling and not much sleeping, until 5:30 in the morning when Yours Truly wakes up to Extreme Emotional Discomfort and goes to watch the sunrise - instead of driving home while everyone else is asleep, which is what the Easier Thing To Do would have been.

as it turns out, Cute Boy goes looking for Yours Truly and has The Talk about all of the Extreme Emotional Discomfort and Yours Truly becomes much less uncomfortable with the way things have gone. Cute Boy makes cup of coffee for Yours Truly, says more of The Right Things, and even curls up for a mid morning nap in the end of summer sun. Yours Truly is Fairly Confident that Everything Is Going To Be Alright. Yours Truly and Sensitive Friend #1 drive home, swap stories, take naps, and hit that night's regular meeting.

in her morning rituals the next day, Yours Truly comes up with the idea that she is being Quite Selfish. that Cute Boy has a lot more on the line than she does, and that whether or not they enter as contestants on The Dating Game is up to him. Yours Truly calls Cute Boy and tells him Exactly How She Feels, and as it turns out Cute Boy has decided that he needs to Take Care Of Himself, most evident by the fact that he is Not Ready For A Relationship Right Now. something that should have been determined earlier in The Game, but nonetheless Yours Truly respects Cute Boy and goes back to Insanely Boring Work Function, made slightly more interesting by Disturbed Sleep Schedule.

the next day, Yours Truly starts to get the distinct feeling of You Got Played, but denies it as much as possible. it's tough to complain, seeing as Yours Truly is In The Wrong for acting out on her Raging Hormones, which is not exactly in the category of Doing The Right Thing. phone calls to Sensitive Friend #1 and #2 follow suit, and the consensus (as always) is to just Show Up and Have Faith. Yours Truly heads faithfully to the Regular Tuesday Night Meeting, which Cute Boy does not regularly attend.

except for this week, of course.

(jordan catalano: that's ironic.)

Yours Truly, now in Extreme Emotional Discomfort like never before, pretends to be fine with being four feet away from Cute Boy and is careful to Avoid Contact throughout the night. this is coupled with I Don't Know What Other People Are Saying, I Want To Believe That It's Him But It's Probably Me, and I Wish He Would Have Just Said Things Differently - followed by Awkward Hurried Exit.

(end setup)

so that's the gist of things. on one side of the coin, I am human, I've got hormones, and when you put two people in a tent that have been specifically avoiding sex for quite some time to encourage mental health - well, what do you expect to happen? on the other side of it, I'm the one that's supposed to know better, and here I sit riddled with expectations for the new guy to behave like the guy with lots of time who knows how to properly express himself. in the meantime, I'm going to have to hide out at some other meetings for at least a little bit, because I am not really looking forward to a repeat performance of last night.

I've already learned a bunch of shit from it though - that the rules don't always apply, and not just because this stuff is happening to me. that sometimes we just drop the ball, and sometimes stuff fits into the hard and fast lines that have been drawn, and sometimes it just doesn't. and that my way of doing things still doesn't work, and that I've got to experience that for myself to really believe it.

and that casual sex still does not work for me. but you almost can't blame me for that one. it's been a fucking year, for pete's sake. yet these things hold the test of time, for me at least - liking boy + sleeping with him too soon = not knowing whether or not he will call the next day, which is a place I swore I'd never put myself in again.

maybe I needed some fresh angst to write about.

and every letter started broken hearted...

~vvb

frames
ray (x3) w/ willy mason, w/ one chick that was really good I can't remember her name tho...
decemberists (x2, about to be 3), once w/ stars and death cab
the shins
the frames w/mark geary
luke temple
jon rodgers (x2)
colin meloy solo
ed harcourt w/ sylvie lewis
the wrens (x2) w/ army of me, morningwood, and w/ the whole absolutely kosher label
the cloud room (x2) w/ harlem shakes and benzos, w/ savage juliet, foreign born and pela
the national (x2) w/ clap your hands say yeah, w/ aberdeen city and pela
jump, little children
goldspot
cary brothers and josh radin

kexp april 2005:
the dutch kills
kristen hersch
matt pond pa
the cloud room (in addition to the two shows above)
tori amos
the french kicks

kexp september 2005:
eiffel tower
luke temple (in addition to full set, above)
hopewell
wide right
goldspot (in addition to full set, above)
feist
langhorne slim
devin davis
cary brothers
foreign born
prayers and tears
blackalicious
tenement halls
youth group
the double

oy!

okay, so not only am I going to be at shows like, every few days in october, but please take note of the most recent addition to this leg of the tour:

clogs and bell orchestre, at firehouse 12.

yes. and why am I making special note of this, you ask?

(I love that I've taken to addressing my imaginary audience.)

in english, that means that one of the guys from the national and his band are going to be playing with the guy from arcade fire and his orchestra bizarro-thingy. in a teeny tiny little venue.

in new haven.

for ten dollars.

(!!!) indeed.

~vvb

I don't know who, maybe you. or you. actually, I don't need a single thing right now - I'm happy and content and experiencing abundance. but I just thought I'd stop by to say hi.

hi.

I also thought that I should get to posting about the national, before it slides into the corner of my mind for good. I know I always say that everyone is my favorite band, that they're so good, that omg you HAVE to go see them, but this is one of the times I really, really mean it. good like wrens category good almost. good like cut your veins open in front of the stage and let it get into you good, good like close your eyes and let the music take you to the Other Place good.

it was, um, good. really, really good.

so the circumstances surrounding my departure for boston were borderline insane - I had walked what seemed like a million miles carrying a week's worth of clothes and bathroom junk and radio schwag and posters and cds and just what felt like a ton of stuff. I had endured million degree subways and sad goodbyes. I left love notes for djs and had fallen asleep on the train, but only to greenwich, with the meadowlands blasting in my headphones. all on four hours of sleep at best, on the heels of meeting the wrens and seeing the most amazing set the night before. so that's the setup.

I stumble off the train in new haven, and I swore if I caught a glimpse of myself I would have seen sparkles coming out of the corners of my eyes. my pupils felt big and everything was hazy, and a little dirty, like that end-of-tripping vibe. and who's there, with cleanliness and air conditioning, but my fabulous mom. the plan is to pick up kacia downtown, head to north haven to grab my car, and go straight to boston.

let me reiterate: I have been in new york for almost six days. I'm running on no sleep and homemade trail mix, and lots of espresso. I've seen over twenty five bands in five days, I just got back from new york, and I'm getting in my car to go to boston. to see the national. at tt's. at midnight.

yes, I am in fact losing my mind.

needless to say, partway up to boston I start to get cranky. at this point I miss my bed, the thrill feels kind of gone, it's starting to rain, I'm changing my mind about everything and a huge part of me wants to be laying down in my apartment, bonding with my cat under the christmas lights. but kacia cheers me on with promises of bliss and more espresso and my head is starting to hurt and I don't know if I can take it anymore. we arrive with our perfect directions to tt's from kristin, score a parking garage a few streets back for five bucks, and head straight to starbucks. we sit down, talk some smack, and consume frosted espresso brownies and triple lattes. I've sinced learned an important part of the deal: fuck the milk. just do the god damn shots already.

we amble into tt's around 9:30 or so, before aberdeen city, who I've heard of but haven't heard. we set up a little spot in the corner and pick out band members in the crowd and it's starting to come back... we're going to see the national. we're going to see the national! mind you, the caffiene has helped me back to the Good Place, but still. we get waters and pee about twelve times and hit the back of the room as aberdeen city takes the stage.

I've got to say that they put on a hell of a set. I was getting so jacked up for the national that I didn't completely get in there and break it down, but I really liked what I heard and made a mental note to get more of them onto the radar. they had this guy playing drums, besides the drummer, that went nutso during one of the songs and it just totally turned me on. plus I had met two of the guys in the band in line for our CMJ schwag a few days before, did I write that up already? I don't think I did. so we're in line for our passes and all kinds of stuff, furiously plowing through the books, trying to find out who is playing when and how many bands we can possibly fit in and I'm all, no dude, I won't be here on friday, I'm going to see the national up at tt's. and these two guys turn around and are all, hey, we're one of the opening bands that night, and I'm all, no shit, and looking back now I'm realizing all I did was talk about how awesome the national was, but I think I did manage to tell them that I'd heard of them and was looking forward to it. so there they were, brad I think and another guy, whipping it out and pulling off a killer set. as they came off and pela came on, we snuck a little deeper into the crowd and closer to the stage, and grooved on them too. I had seen pela open up for the cloud room at the mercury lounge, and the lead singer - I want to say billy, but that might be wrong - is just so forcefully melodic and fabulous, and it was a little less rough than the last time I had seen them, and I loved them again even more. it also doesn't hurt that he's super nice, and now that I think of it, they all were. brad, brian, brian's brother, padma - they're all so sweet.

I've actually got to expound on that for a minute - like I mentioned when I wrote up the wrens... since I've morphed from penny lane to ric nunez (the kid with the sharpie), it's been totally different dealing with all these boys in these bands. I'm able to speak and dig them and let them know how they translated from the stage and what worked and what I loved and how I felt everything, whether it's the set or the album or the differences or similarities or what have you. and maybe they've all got big egos, or maybe they all really want to hear about how they're coming across, but these guys are just nice. nice and totally into their art and really honestly appreciative of how much you (as a fan) are appreciating them. I mean, brad held an entire conversation with me at the end of the night, and earlier on padma saw kacia and I hanging around between bands and came over to talk to us. I've stopped stalking and needing and pining away, not because I consciously thought to or anything, but just because that's the place I've come to. and the vibe I'm putting out must be different, because somehow these guys are all, hey, how was the set, didn't I see you last time, what did you think, and it's not because they want to feel me up in the back of the van. so we get to know them on a different level - which seems normal before the show, but then afterwards it's a little harder. like, um, hi, you totally just blew my mind, and here you are, hopping off stage to talk about the logistics of where the monitors were and did this sound alright and that part was really cool and yeah, right on. and that's when the tangibility of these guys just blows me away, but I can communicate about it now. amid the conversing. and on top of it all I can still take the set list, and it's okay. maybe I'm just getting more comfortable, with myself, with everything.

I love how I'm evolving. really.

so, pela kicked ass and as they wrapped up we got a few people closer, winding up dead center in front of the stage. freaking out. now all the juice is back, and I'm remembering seeing the national from the week before at the iron horse, and brian takes off his shoes, and the lead singer goes for a jack and coke, and there's the fabulous guitarist, and there's padma, warming up, winking from behind the keys. it's all happening and the lights go down and they start the set and we just totally melt into the floor. and this is the hard part, describing the set - this is where it gets a little wrens-y. it was just so god damn good, all of it, every minute, even the songs we didn't know. it turns out that the lead singer is directly above us, towering over us, stepping out and standing on the monitor and screaming and about to fall into the crowd, and I just had this weird trust thing happening about it. like if he was freaking out then so could I, and I just shut my eyes and let all of them really run through me, and I knew he was inches away and could potentially collapse on top of me and knock me over, and I didn't care.

it was totally incredible, like the wrens the night before and the time I saw the frames at the paradise - this is going to sound totally stupid, but I'll say it anyways: there are these certain times, especially from the front row, where you can listen to the music and be really into it and dig it and have your mind blown - that happens a lot, if you're seeing the bands that do it for you - but then, like those shows (wrens, frames) and like this show, it almost feels like you are part of what they're playing. like you're tangibly connected to what is happening on the stage, part of the loop of them playing together. not like you're in the band, but more like you're a piece of the whole experience - above and beyond just listening and grooving and loving it - I don't know if I'm getting it across the right way, but that's what was happening.

and a brief editor's note: the condensed version of that paragraph is hereafter referred to as the Other Place.

I do have to stop and mention two things: one, that if you see "ctree" or "cherryt" on the set list, that it is the most likely song to get you to the Other Place. watch for it. and two, if you are right up front and center, beware of flying objects, like lead singers, microphone stands, empty jack and coke cups, and the like. while visiting the Other Place twice during the night, once I was brought back by the droplets from a cup being flung to the floor, and once I was brought back much more forcefully by a microphone stand hitting me square in the forehead. I can imagine what it must have looked like after the fact, I'm standing there, eyes closed, palms up, mouth open, and DONK! I'm snapped back to tt's most ungracefully.

I wish it would have like, left a scar or something. come to think of it, it sort of did. like rayanne graff says, everthing leaves a scar. and like joni mitchell says, songs are like tattoos.

so I'm covered in both, reeling, bursting at the seams, falling in love going a mile a minute, sitting on the stage after the show. the kid next to us is like all, omg, can you imagine if they like, hung out or something? and kacia and I are practically twitching from the set and we're like, um, we kind of know them a little bit, and the kid is freaking out, like I'm sure I look like when I freak out like that, all well, if I sit here, does that mean they'll like, come out and talk to you eventually? and almost on cue padma comes by and proceeds to have a twenty minute discussion with us, everything from flowers to playing with his other band and bell orchestre at firehouse 12 in new haven to the set to recording a new album to the microphone stand hit to the other bands and everything. and this kid is just standing there, with this look on his face, wanting to say something, not knowing what to say, saying a sentence and his eyes going "I carried a watermelon?" a la baby in dirty dancing. it was just great, because I felt what he felt, only I was able to speak through it - and then after that brian, and some more show love, and then it was a whirlygig of buttons and other band members and cds for less than what they cost because we had spent every single cent getting to the show, I actually got on the train in new york with eighty cents in my pocket - so we promised to get them drunk, or at least take them out for a round of golf (and I'm all, you play golf? and brian's brother is like, no, it's funny though, isn't it?) and then we were spinning in circles on the sidewalk, wanting for nothing, forever transformed and just full of everything.

we caught up with the aberdeen city guy, brad, before we wrapped it up, and from seeing me at cmj he was all, so, what do you do, that you can just come to all these shows all the time, and I was like, well, I work a pretty flexible day job, but I took the week off to work for kexp at cmj, and we saw the national last week and bought these tickets when we got home because they were just so good - and he's all, right on, and then we got into talking about writing, and I explained how I can dig on them freaking out, and it furthers me going to freak out, whether it's from good shots or in my notebooks or what have you, and how I blog all of it because I need to, because it keeps me responsible to myself, like with my hair - it reminds me that I can't cop out about it. I'm all, I have to go write up the show, but it's not because rolling stone is going to come and read about it or anything, it's just because I need to. I have to. and brad is all, I can totally dig that, and I almost said, dude, I can totally dig you, but I didn't. we smiled and swirled out into the street, past old school rap songs and bleary neon signs dripping onto the sidewalks, wet with rain, singing and skipping and leaving kexp postcards and stickers along the way.

I'll leave the memory intact and leave the story about coming home to no keys and having to break into my apartment from the fire escape for another time.

this is ric nunez, with sharpie in fist, over and out.

~vvb

but I'll be taking some damn good pictures.

RIC: It's all happening. I just saw them on the seventh floor! Mr. Jimmy Page... Mr. John Paul Jones... (displays squiggle on shirt) Mr. Robert Plant signed my shirt in the elevator!! Five minutes ago, he touched this pen. Please don't smear it. And Bonzo's gotta new motorcycle in the hotel!

PENNY: Ric is a Zeppelin fan.

WILLIAM: Yeah, I picked that up.

PENNY: He tours with them, but not "with" them.

RIC: They're on the 12th floor, but there's guards there! So you gotta go to the tenth floor and go up the back steps.

PENNY LANE: This is my very dear, very close, very wonderful friend William Miller, he is very close with Lester Bangs.

RIC: It's all happening!! See you in Cleveland!

(Ric rushes back to the elevators.)

PENNY LANE: I'm retired! Doesn't anybody believe me!?

it's just about 11 on sunday morning, and I'm sitting in my apartment in my underwear. there's a giant pile of dirty clothes to my right, and some schwag from cmj to my left. thus begins my dilemma: do laundry, or write up the rest of thursday night - laundry, wrens. laundry, wrens. sneakers. goldspot. kevin suggs. wrens.

wrens.

the rest of thursday:

by the end of all the in-studios on thursday, my feet were screaming. throbbing ankles and blistered toes and such - my boots weren't made for walking, like shannon's, and I was starting to suffer. the reformed hippie in me wants to be barefoot, so she figures that flip flops will more than suffice.

not true.

so I put a call into beth to see maybe where I can score a pair of saucony's, and tiffany throws down exact specifications: that I am to head to broadway and 18th, to a place called parragon, in the downstairs. good colors, good prices. I try to figure out how I'm going to go up to michael's apartment, nap, grab something to eat, get to parragon by 8 before they close, and hit the goldspot show before the wrens at the mercury lounge. the nap gets the ax and kevin suggs and I head down to union square.

I've just got to say again how much I <3 new york, how it's dirty and magical and perfect. I may not be a big fan of those thousand degree subways in the summertime, but there's something about the people and the lights and the everything-all-at-once of it that really turns me on. I don't mean the tourist traps, which I guess you should see once in your lifetime, the times square-y types of places, but moreso the little corners of the village and union square and hidden treats in brooklyn and stuff. wednesday night we had this gorgeous thai food in williamsburg and the bathrooms were these space pods behind beaded curtains and there was much communal hand-washing. southpaw was a hidden gem of a venue, doors opening into sprawling stage and cavernous ceilings. pianos, with the awning from where they actually used to sell pianos. stickers, surfers, be-bop corner performers - it's like someone flung a handful of precious gems over the city for people to be forever stumbling across.

so kevin and I emerge from the subway triumphant, and acclimate ourselves to east and west and head down to the bottom of union square. as I really started to think that I couldn't take another step, the little sign for parragon stuck out over the storefront like an oasis. we wandered and pilfered and I finally slid my feet into these great little new balances - not only were they the most comfortable shoes I had ever graced my feet with, they were totally adorable as well. I threw out my three dollar flip flops and handed over the credit card, and we were ushered back out into the muggy streets.

from where we were to get over to pianos and the mercury lounge looked like over a mile, and we decided to just walk in the general direction of where we needed to be in search of a quick dinner. we wound up covering about three quarters of the way there on foot and stopped at an asian and thai themed bar that was offering california rolls and veggie pad thai at a bargain. definitely the least spectacular of our dining experiences so far, but it worked perfectly for our time frame and budget. we wound up walking the rest of the way down, past cb's where devin davis had a 9:30 set and hipsters and cigarette clogged sidewalks, past katz's deli and huge american apparel billboards, finally stumbling around the corner to piano's.

pianos, as I mentioned earlier, has got an old striped awning above it and apparently it's where someone used to sell pianos. it was white inside, which threw me for a bit, because I don't think any clubs I've frequented lately were. there was a walkway through the middle, tables and a long bench seat up steps on one side, and a bar down the other side. we sat down gratefully – it’s funny how things change like that, how there’s bliss in sneaker stores and wooden benches... it was pretty crowded, and kevin stepped over to the bar for a beer as we fought our way back to the door. this whole thing with the passes was so great, it was like it didn't matter to piano's that the show was sold out - we flashed them and the doors opened to the back room like magic, past anxious patrons and band member's parents and fans filing in and waiting for the set. apparently in new york it's not so hip to stand right in front of the stage, which means you can show up for the last opening band, even when there's six of them, and amble right on up. kevin and I pushed through a wall of people, thinking that the room was already packed, and as it turns out there was a full five feet of space in front of the entire length of the stage. we took our spots, snapping photos of a kexp sticker someone slapped onto the floor, all perfectly bathed in red light, and waited for the show to begin.

when goldspot took the stage, the room went nuts. I heard some professional people during the week talking about how this band was one of the best things to come out of los angeles as of late, and if you get the chance to see them play I think you'll agree. I don't actually know who else has come out of los angeles as of late, so I can't actually make any kind of comparisons, but goldspot is a hell of a band. they really mesh together well, they have fun and get incredibly intense all at once, and the drummer has this big grin on his face the entire time. the lead singer, sid, really just loses his shit and plays with the audience and - I guess it just seems to me like they really want to be up there. musically and lyrically fantastic, they knocked our socks off for about forty minutes, strumming and reeling and making us dance - a bigger louder version of the in-studio, with hair pullings and freakouts notwithstanding. I grabbed the setlist after it was done and abruptly disappeared with kevin back into the night.

at this point, being the wise man that he is, Kevin decided to part company with me for the evening and head back to his hotel for a decent night's rest. seeing as he actually had to legitimately function the next day and all. on the heels of my seventh "fuck sleep!" we said our goodbyes at the doorway of the mercury lounge and I wandered in. I knew that there were three bands to suffer through before the wrens took the stage, but I was happy with two of them - unfortunately they were the first two. I sat down next to a guy who had moved to the city about ten days prior, and hung out with him for about half the set, and then later at various points in the night. his name was ben and he was a funny, funny guy, and somehow involved in some type of indie label something or other, but I can’t quite remember. the only thing that stands out about him in my weary head is that he had a cool graphic design to his business card and he was very good in his descriptions of things. my sleep reserve was already running low, so it made for some interesting discussions of music and life and being drunk and not being drunk and it kept coming back to the whole, “holy crap, we're going to see the wrens” thing. sparrow and the jim yoshi pile-up saw us through to about midnight, when goblin cock took the stage. maybe I'm just not cool enough to get it, but this band is slightly ridiculous. they put on big hoods and capes and play fake death metal, for fun, or maybe for real, I don't know. all I know is that shannon, janet and deb had showed up by then and we spent the set up in the front room, talking to the absolutely kosher guys and buying some posters and albums, desperately looking for places to sit, finding little or none. finally it was about quarter to one and janet and I braved the darkness and headed back in to secure our spots in front of the stage. no way was I going to get pushed to the back of the room, not after I had already met the band.

so I need to digress and get into groupie mode for a moment – I have to say it's evolved from being penny lane to being the kid with the sharpie and the tshirt, wandering around in a frenzied daze, totally stunned at the fact that it is actually all happening... so earlier in the morning I had the pleasure of meeting kathryn from littlequill.com during the prayers and tears set, she's the one doing the wrens documentary, from the little buttons I picked up for everyone at the first wrens show at the bowery. she promised bliss and much meeting of band members, which I proclaimed then that I would absolutely be incapable of. I mean, the wrens are inherently some of the best songwriters that I have ever encountered, ever. and I'm no indie snob about it, but I think I listen to a decent selection of music - and these guys are it. the query of "well, who do you like to listen to?" is almost always followed by, "the wrens, and..." so the thought of any type of conversing was completely freaking me out. I told her that I'd probably hang back.

that's not exactly what wound up happening...

and to briefly wrap up the kexp day, which I was slightly removed from because I was on the phone dealing with some problems at work for a big part of it: prayers and tears totally blew me away, so much so that I threw them on the list of things I needed to buy tickets for when I got home. I missed part of kimone because of the work crisis, cloud cult rocked the room with forcefully delicate meanderings and gorgeous songwriting, blackalicious had the room jumping, and tenement halls turned up the volume on balls-out indie rock progressions. random comments for the day include: that cloud cult actually has some cult stuff going on, they all live on a farm or something; that I missed the first half of blackalicous because they sent me out for espresso; and that I even got to kick around with cheryl a little bit before kevin and I broke off to head for the sneakers. plus more of the bliss of the first day, of just hanging out and having a total time with everyone and really being happy to be there, to be part of such a good thing, to just totally be doing what I love.

so back to the mercury lounge, earlier in the night during a few minutes of sparrow, I was out on the sidewalk talking to abby, when I realized kevin and greg were standing about three feet from me, listening to me talking about them. I closed my phone immediately and said hello, and then politely excused myself - I explained that if I continued to talk to them that I couldn't guarantee that I wouldn't morph into a fifteen year old that was unable to hold up any semblance of a conversation. I did manage to get out that they were really great, and that I was really looking forward to the set. they grinned and shook hands with me, and I walked away with my heart pounding out of my chest... it's funny, how brilliance is more attractive than outsides for me. I mean, the brilliance shines through and comes out, of course, but on top of that for me it's way more important than so many of the external things - just knowing what brilliant writers they were totally floored me. these are guys pushing forty, from new jersey, and it didn't matter. I was, and am, totally and completely smitten with them.

and to continue digressing, inside between the first two bands, I run into kathryn, who is talking to charles. she motions me over and I try to melt into the wall. she comes over to tell me it's really all going to be just fine, and grabs my hand and grabs charles as he's going by and introduces me. and I almost fall apart, right there in the red and blue lights... he's got these beautiful soulful dark sparkling eyes, and he locked them right on with mine, and I remember all of a sudden that I need to say something. I introduce myself and tell him that seriously, he is one of the best songwriters that I have ever come across, and that "made enough friends" might be the best song I've ever heard, that it’s so perfectly written - and that I saw them at the bowery and that I was really looking forward to the show. and he tuned in, and absorbed what I said, and spoke to me for a minute but I was reeling so bad I almost couldn't hear him. he had to go help out with soundcheck, and left amid promises of pulling me on stage to play percussion for "boys, you won't" and smiled and left and I swear I could have just died right then - well, I wouldn't have minded catching the actual set and all, but in that moment everything enough, and I was rendered speechless.

so that was me meeting charles.

and now we’re back to real-time, sparrow and the jim yoshi pile-up have pulled off excellent sets and we are enduring the end of goblin cock before the wrens take the stage. they start to set up and I'm mesmerized, I've managed to have verbal and physical contact with everyone but the drummer and like I just said, I can barely speak. it’s like meeting your heroes, like when kristin and I talk about how these bands are so important and inspiring but yet they remain so tangible – it’s almost like my head doesn’t know how to handle it. I'm watching them with my mouth open, plugging in, tuning, can I have some more vocals in my monitor, you know, the usual stuff. I don't know if I even snapped off a lot of pictures because at this point it's one in the morning and the shit is just running through my veins and I am so totally jacked up about hearing an entire set that I can barely see straight. and then they start to play.

like the show at the bowery ballroom, I'm not really able to describe the set very well. they played from about 1:20 until about quarter to three, so a good hour and a half almost. eighty percent of the set was off the meadowlands, with a few odd songs I had heard last time and a few I didn't know. but right from the start, from the first chord until the last, it was full energy – a total screaming at the top of your lungs and jumping up and down from the sheer bliss of it experience, and that sentence is so far from doing it justice that I almost want to delete it. the national have it too, where they just turn on and put you into a trance and your brain almost comes out of your ears because you are being blown out of the room, but you're still in the front row, and this insane adrenaline mindblowing catastrophic event just keeps happening - so you're seeing this amazing performance and going "jesus, this is so fucking good I can barely take it" and it just keeps happening - in this case, at full volume for almost and hour and a half. and to give myself an honorable mention, I did almost get pulled up for "boys, you won't" but pulled back in sheer terror. (after watching everyone play percussion and the floor and whatever else the drummer told them to tap on, I decided that if the opportunity presented itself next time that I'd gladly take the stage – don’t pass it up if it happens to you.)

so they play forever, and when they're done there's no moment of feeling like they're done too soon, even though it could go on for hours... but then something like that can't sustain - so it's perfect, and the room clears out immediately, and it's the four of us and the band and maybe a dozen other people among the cleaning up and unplugging and loading out. janet's birthday is friday, so she's getting autographs and shannon is doing the kexp thing and I'm just sitting on the stage, stunned and grinning. as they wrap up and get cds to get signed and stuff I say hello to charles, and thank him for the set. at this point there's no delay between what I'm thinking and what I'm saying, so I think about the fact that he makes me want to write more, and I just say it, and he asks me if I'm in a band, and I'm like, no, I just like, write, for me, you know, and he's like, yeah, I always wish I would have gotten into writing - and all of a sudden I can talk, and I put my hand on his arm and I'm like, are you kidding? and he's like, no, why? and I'm like, charles, you are - when I told you that you were one of the best songwriters I've ever gotten to listen to, I was nervous to talk to you and everything, but I mean that - you are an amazing writer, some of the best lines I've ever heard, and I'm pretty picky about what I listen to - and he was all like, really? are you serious? not like he doesn't inherently know that he's good, but I don't think he equated it to writing writing, like putting it against like writing a book or something. and then I'm just talking to a guy about his writing. and it was awesome. and then I'm not scared anymore, and we're laughing and joking and I said, I have to tell you, can I ask you one more stupid question, I'm sure you have people to talk to - and on a side note, when I had said that to him and the other guys and the guys in the national, kind of an offered out, they went, um, no, I really don't have anywhere else to be right now, and my heart sang - so he was like, no, it's cool - and I go, do you have a bunch of picks in your guitar case, and he's all, why, do you want to play, and I'm grinning and all, no, but I was wondering if I could have the one in your pocket, just for posterity's sake, and it was the biggest grin I'd seen that night, probably akin to the one I had on - and he was like, really? and I was like yes, really, I know it's silly, but I want to remember all of this, you know, and he digs in his pocket and looks up at me and says my name back to me, “victoria, right?” and I'm like, yes, and he goes, “well then this is for you, victoria, from one writer to another” and gives me the pick and closes his hand on my hand for a second, and I'm thanking him and now my eyes are sparkling too and I tell him again what a tremendous set it was - and I come back to janet, still reeling, and the night isn’t even over yet.

so then kevin is talking to some guy, and I'm lingering as we all freak out and show off our treasures, afraid to make an approach. and I abruptly turn to kevin and go, I don't know when we're going to be leaving, but I just had to tell you what I told charles, that I can't not tell you that you are some of the best songwriters I've ever listened to, and I hand him my sharpie and ask him to sign me. and he’s all, like, sign you? and I hold out my forearm, going yes, it would be really cool, and in my head I’m going oh my god he’s going to like, touch me, and for more than three seconds - and he's like, wow, no one has ever asked me to sign them before, and I'm like, I know, it's totally groupie of me but I'd really love it. so he proceeds to put "te amo" and then sign his name below it (and I got bill to take the pictures the next day to prove it) and when I looked up and he was grinning and I was sure that I was shooting beams out of my eyes, and it took everything I had in me to fight wanting to just lean in and start making out with him. so I thanked him for the set as well, and told him to please keep the site updated as to whether or not the show at wesleyan was just for students, and then some guy was waiting to talk to him so I had to turn away, and now I really swayed and almost passed out - I'm sitting here reeling from it still, managing to be a little bit of everything, primarily into the beauty of what they do, but topped off with just a little bit of freaking out and just being able to be a fan - it was just so perfect. I didn't feel stupid or over or underdone, I didn't regret a moment of it. I really feel like while I've got a kexp badge on that there is a certain amount of responsibility that has to go along with it, that I can't be a screaming freak about stuff, but I was able to be a dedicated fan and a grown up about it all at the same time. and from what some guys have told me since, that there is no guy in a band that doesn't like signing body parts on a hot chick.

I stopped to say hello and goodbye to greg before we left, and he was a little easier to talk to from having done the whole guest list thing from the bowery, and he actually came and squatted in front of me and kissed me on the cheek and asked me how I was - and I said all the same things to him and thanked him and we wound up talking about how weird it was that they were going to be playing at wesleyan, and about how maybe I could come out to seattle for christmastime to visit the friend of mine that lived there (because he remembered!!!) and to catch some of their shows - and it was more of just this honest to goodness talking, for a few minutes, not in the middle of him doing something and being obligated, but it was him being approachable and actually just having a real conversation about stuff. unreal.

I said it a hundred times so far over the last seven days, but I can not believe that this is actually my life. that this is all really happening. but it is.

all of a sudden we were leaving and the steamy city streets greeted us as janet and I took the train back uptown, and we just let it all run through us – we stared at our autographs and posters and picks and badges and finally crawled out of the train at our subsequent stops. I tiptoed into michael's apartment at about four in the morning, bursting at the seams, and fell into a beautiful four hours of sleep before I got up to head into the station for the last day of broadcasting.

this is (say your name) from (band name), and you're listening to john in the morning on kexp, seattle. love me.

~vvb

I've finally gotten a few hours of it (in a row) and I'm determined to get the daily updates up before the end of the weekend. this has been the most amazing week, fresh on the heels of the national in boston and billions of boys in bands and driving until 4:30 in the morning and rainy sidewalks - but I'll get to all of that soon enough.

wednesday - early thursday:

from the scrawled notes before prayers and tears of arthur digby sellers took the stage on thursday morning. much props to kristin at home base for posting and commentary, she's perfect in every single way and I love her so -

days in new york: 4
bands seen so far: 13
unbelievably healthy dinners enjoyed for less than fifteen dollars: 4
blocks walked: 800
gallons of sweat generated: 800
times I've realized how desperately I need sneakers: 788
times I've taken the C from michael's apartment: 4
times I could have taken the B instead and saved at least some of the aforementioned sweat-inducing walks: 4
hours spent in thousand degree subway tunnels before I've realized that the C stops running after 11 and that the A becomes the local train: 2
A trains that I didn't get on while I was waiting: 3
times I've gone to insane scenester bars in chinatown to possibly stalk luke temple and have been so tangibly uncomfortable at the mean behavior of the people wearing outfits that cost more than my rent that I've had to leave after twenty minutes: 1
hours spent walking in times square with devin davis: 1
theremins: 1
heartbreaks: at least 10
trips to starbucks: 12
times I've heard good music playing in starbucks: 12
times I've been blown away by cary brothers and josh radin: 3
trips to brooklyn: 1
band members met by coincidence that are opening for the national in boston on friday: 2
mind blowing events: too many to list
average hours of sleep: what?

(Kristin here, once again reporting from home base in Seattle, WA. This post comes on the heels of the following conversation with VVB -- as much of a conversation as one can have with a girl squealing at a frequency dogs flee from in terror -- "Omigod did you hear Goldspot and I was going to call you and hold the phone out so you could hear but then I realized you were already listening and I'm picking Tom Brosseau up at the airport me for real seriously Tom Brosseau yeah. Me. Airport. Tom Brosseau. In my car. Hi. Okay I love you bye.")

tuesday, tuesday, such a great day, it's a shame no one writes songs about tuesdays. unless I'm wrong. like with the break a leg thing - but anyways...

this morning was just as hot but I took the next subway stop to shorten the walk, I swear it feels like I need another shower by the time I get to the museum - the city is muggy and thick and damp, the drinks sweat immediately, and my hair stayed wet until noon. air conditioning is like a cold blanket from the gods, a swooshing enveloping movement that sweeps over you with the opening of doors. on that note, you can tell the city people from the tourists by the way they handle revolving doors, among other things - they just jump right in, it's a non-issue for them. we have to time it, we hesitate, we stumble - but by the end of the day we had vastly improved. entering and exiting like a pro, knowing where the subway stations were without trying. everything continues to be a blast.

wide right was the first band up this morning, really doing their thing over barbequed chicken and sleeping on the couch from fights with your spouse about conversations you couldn't have while drinking cheap beer. the guy fell to the floor during soundcheck, purposefully, playing a track or two off of their album lying on his back. overwhelmed and happy. they were quick and clean and right on the money, and all of a sudden they were gone. everyone was even more laid back today, acclimated to the time change and even the heat, no one needed to be anything they weren't and we all got excited when goldspot rolled in with a duffel bag full of free t-shirts (american apparel!) and cds for sale, which we gladly took off of their hands. I went for the green, andrew and shannon went for the black. soft and perfect - and I didn't even totally know what I was in for, having heard "rewind" and one other track off of the album at most.

six or seven guys eventually ambled in, along with a set of parents, inducing a gigantic coffee / green tea run. andrew and I carried more beverages than any two people should ever have to, and as we came back down the hallway we heard the lead singer warming up. sid(dartha, which I am coincidentally reading as a result of a box of free books in the lobby of my wednesday night meeting)'s voice floated down the hallway - thus beginning the first channeling of the day. it was jeff buckley reincarnate, with a shirt that had LOVE ME scrawled across it and a suit jacket with a zipper and a black sweatshirt hood. hair standing up, long sleeves pulled over fingers, howling and bellowing pure beauty. I almost dropped the coffees. we made quick business of handing them out, and I really started to peak out about hearing them play - and five songs at that instead of four. they were absolutely the highlight of the day, melodic and haunting and well-versed and just the way sid bounced around on stage, with that anguished tortured singer thing where they kind of freak out and their hands fly away almost without notice and there's pulling of hair and faraway stares and screaming perfection. and the band dug it and encouraged it and got into him and each other and just pulled off the most perfect set, complete with a full audience and a manager in tow. it was truly incredible.

I wound up talking to them and the manager during load out, which I was more than happy - priveleged even - to help out with. I talked up cafe nine if they were ever passing through the east coast again, which apparently is in the plan. I'm actually going to try to see them thursday night before the wrens, I'm going to go in and get stamped and try to leave for goldspot's set a few blocks away and then back by the time jim yoshi pile-up starts with plenty of time still for front row. the book and stuff is just too big of a coincidence, as well as sid's dad talking to me for a while about living in new haven in the seventies. I've learned to pay attention to such things. that, and I told sid that I was in love with him a little bit after seeing the set. I couldn't help it.

feist followed suit, with a beautiful set full of odd instruments and lacy vocal threads woven between soft trumpets and shaky shakys. they seemed a bit tense, as anyone would be, wanting sound to be perfect and to perform well, but in resulted in a bit of pre-show tension. the second channeling began, a female jon rodgers, or at least his equivalent in some other dimension, with a hint of bjork and awry for good measure. I love xylophones. her big bodied red guild was almost bigger than she was, or so it seemend, and they were in and playing and there and leaving, and then it was a whirlwind of restocking the schwag and lunch and wow, it's late already and then the phone rang.

I had been catching up on a few calls from friends, touching base with work and checking on the chachalove, when the number for the space came up. remember when I wrote about tom brosseau playing the open mic at the space? as it turns out, he needs a ride from the airport, and guess who steve immediately thought of to pick them up, and had to call him back twice just to make sure he wasn't playing a trick on me. I was in the middle of squealing with delight when langhorne slim came strolling down the comic book strip hallway. he laughed, I said hello, and later explained the bliss of the phone call. he was sad to admit that he hadn't heard much of tom, but promised to as soon as cheryl threw on a track for me. and speaking of that, as I was telling cheryl, not only did she throw on a track, but told me about how he is a beautiful charming six foot tall dear of a guy that makes you feel like the most perfect girl in the world and how I may very well fall completely in love with him. I think I'll bring gerber daisies to the airport with the sign. when I pick him up. tom brosseau. who will be at tweed. and then in my car.

I can't believe that this is my life.

so langhorne (sp?) proceeded to be the sweetest guy, sneaking off to warm up and coming back in about four minutes before his set, and immediately blowing us out of our seats. picture zoot suit pants, shiny green shoes, some kind of old graphic wifebeater, a humphrey bogart hat, and a tooth missing on the side in the most perfect place. (or, you can check out bill's shots on kexp when he fixes them tomorrow - I think something happened around six east coast time that had to do with stuff not loading the right way or whatever). now, he smiles and chats and thanks you for coming and he's one of those people you want to support in every way you can so that he can just create and be and make more and do more of - everything. then he gets behind the microphone with his acoustic guitar with the worn pink flowery strap and all of a sudden there's an old black man howling away about modern day blues from his front porch in the south someplace, but you can tell he's lived in new york too, from the way it's hardened his point of view. and it's happening at the top of his lungs. we could barely speak, totally bowled over from the front row.

so, yeah. after we giggled through his station ids, that was my tuesday.

the night wrapped up with postcard posters for all, veggies in the village, subway chats with kevin and peanut m and ms. I have to go now, because I think michael is about to throw in the new death cab dvd.

did I mention what a time I'm having? wish you were here, and I mean it. even though the weather isn't wonderful. because everything else absolutely is. I won't even take the space to complain about dropping my phone in the sink and having to buy a new one. okay, I will, but only because the cheapest one they had wound up being the same one that luke temple has. we giggled about it at various points throughout the night - that, and the fact that the verizon guy I called on 611 to find a store was in washington state and was all, "kexp? really? with the morning guy?" which far outweighed the money it wound up costing.

tomorrow morning I'm going to meet devin davis. at like, nine in the morning. with john. in the morning. in the morning.

xo

~vvb

(Note: this news is being broadcast by home correspondent kristin, as relayed by VVB, who is live at large on the streets of our fair apple city. It's kind of weird to hear these events on the radio and know she is right there, a few feet from the microphone, and to later read about what I couldn't see.)

it's been a mere twenty four hours in the city so far, and already there's just... so much. so many things are different, better, different, wonderful... knowing my way around a little bit more than I did last time has made it that much more fun to be here, there's no constant worry if I'm heading the right way or going to be late, like when you're home and you know just how long it takes to get from place to place. last time I was so anxious, and this time I am so present. there's almost a complete absence of fear and anxiety, except for the good kind, the holy crap luke temple is two feet away from me kind. but you know what I mean.

the train trip in was pretty uneventful, being that I was coming in on sept. 11th and all, and to be honest new york city felt like the perfect place to be. as I've started to fall in love with being here, with the city itself being this living breathing part of everything, I almost felt what people had lived here must have felt - to be accurate I should say that I caught a glimpse of what it may have been like, because I can't assume to know. but that love and devotion to a place, the place that the passerby proclaim is "the greatest place on earth! what did you expect? you're in new york!" - that tangible thing that's sort of totally intangible at the same time - it grazed me in all kinds of beauty. the kind of beauty you can only find here, I think. beauty in the sidewalks and the doorways and the businessmen and the junkies, in all of it, every moment.

so I stroll into the museum this morning, sweating from the walk, loving it anyways, iced starbucks in hand. lovingly kept by michael (and marzipan, who spooned me to sleep after some fitful tossing from strange sleep in a strange place). I woke up to other people waking up, strangers with alarm clocks taking showers and banging spoons against cereal bowls - and that feeling of all those other people being alive, it just made me want to do something and go and be and yes. the same guard greeted me, remembering. the same elevator, the same cartoon cutouts in the hallways - I stumbled into eiffel tower already setting up, friendly and welcoming, with a few kexp interns to round it out. they wound up playing such a great set, and as the third song rolled out (she's a girl) I went, "oh! it's this band!" and andrew (intern) grinned and laughed. it made it that much more fun and fabulous, and all of a sudden we were one band down for the day with loading and coffees and hellos and such in full swing.

the highlight of my morning was when john said hello, introduced me to cheryl, who said, "oh, victoria! john's said so many great things about you - it's nice to finally meet you!" and she meant it. and he meant it. and I know it was me last time that was all uncomfortable and full of just general angst about myself, that it didnt' have anything to do with john talking or not talking to me - all of it dissolved in that moment, and it was okay to be a little bit of a dork sending email requests and "I LOVE this song!" over the great american internet, to be okay with it, and then to have that further confirmed by john richards having great things to say about me. to cheryl. about me. and on top of that kevin and bill and everyone just being so into everything, talking about the national, getting excited for luke temple and devin davis and the week ahead.

adam franklin from swervedriver and more teas and lattes followed suit, there was much handing out of stickers and further introductions and endless bathroom direction givings and bottles of water fetchings and little family type spats from time to time between djs and interns and interns and interns and so forth - followed immediately by makings up and favorite songs. before I knew it, luke temple was having a conversation with me about the logistics of telling someone to "break a leg" because when it was said to him, I offhandedly went "isn't that bad luck, to actually say break a leg?" and all of a sudden four people were discussing it with me and I was like, "I might be totally wrong but I swore I heard that before, that you shouldn't say that on opening night - " and we determined it might be for people that need to walk to perform but because they were sitting that it must be okay. so on with the show.

so much is flooding back to me in pieces, a furiously written sign on the door of blockbuster proclaiming "WE ARE OUT OF BAGS" with this scrawled sense of urgency, meeting schedules the size of small phonebooks (not kidding), the people of new york buzzing around the west side at 11:00 on a sunday night, the line for the dave letterman show today on the way back to michael's, perfect well-priced sushi rolls, hundred degree subways, and the mtv thing - I'll get to that in a minute. so back to luke temple, who goes on, and apparently has (a) just broken up with his girlfriend and (b) as a result has moved back to new york city which (c) hurts enough but then gets topped off by a friend's wedding, just to twist the knife and (d) has had all of this happen in two days and is now talking to cheryl waters and doing an instudio. not breaking a leg. hearing all of this just made it all that much more heartbreaking, his songs move me completely regardless of segways ! and setups but just watching him play, the faraway stares, the momentary indifference followed by a line in a song about her that he hadn't sang since everything changed - it was incredible. I hope some of the shots came out.

more coffee, more postcards, more meandering, more coffee again, trail mix, bathroom directions, and then hopewell. hopewell is the loudest band ever that still achieves a total melodic cinematic effect that is undeniable and takes you over from the first four clicks of the drumsticks counting off. I mean, they were loud, but it was such a great loud, my first cd purchase of the day and right up there with luke's set, only on another part of the spectrum. as it turned out their van got towed from a five minute meter discrepancy and we wound up talking to them for about and hour, after everything was already cleared out and made ready for tomorrow's broadcast. we joked and talked politics and authors and current rotations and dredged up old relationships. they really are such a great group of guys, one more level of these bands that blow you away but are so totally tangible at the same time - once the van was confirmed on return, we came down in the elevators (here's the mtv part) and stumbled into a lobby of elbow rubbing important folk eating crabcakes and posing for publicity shots. turns out angelina jolie did some documentary with a bunch of people about africa and children in africa and mtv had booked out the museum to screen it. so here we are, shot, amps in tow, and the tuxedo-clad waiter comes by with a silver platter and announces the fillet mignon appetizer. rich (bass player, hopewell) says, "why, thank you" and I almost explode with laughter as I politely decline. the museum warden woman from last time is moments behind us and apologetically shushes us right out the door. it was absolutely perfect.

I've managed a meeting both nights and have felt equally welcomed and as at home as at michael's and in the seats of the studio. I'm doing the things I always talked about but never made an effort to before this past year. I'm not alone with my brand of crazy. sidewalk vendors and shiny apples and sore feet and healthy self esteem abound, and it's still just the first day.

over and out, live from the museum of television and radio in new york city, this is kexp.

~vvb

hi.

the national is so fucking good that we bought tickets for TT's in boston next friday. the night after I see the wrens. at the mercury lounge.

um, yeah.

I'll try to send updates via kristin from the road... somehow I don't think I'll be sleeping much.

SCHEDULED TO PERFORM
!!! (International) Noise Conspiracy
+/- 4th Pyramid
8-bit a fir-ju well
A Wilhelm Scream Aa
Abba Roland Aberdeen City
Acid Mothers Temple & The Cosmic Inferno Action Action
Acute Adelyn
Adrienne Young & Little Sadie Aeroplane Pageant
Aesop Rock Aesthetic Perfection
Afrofraktal Against Me!
Ahleuchatistas AIDS Wolf
Alex Diaz y Son de la Calle Alex Diaz y Son de la Calle
Ali And The Electric Insect Alias
Alice Smith Aloha
Aloke Alove For Enemies
Alternative Champs Alyson Faith
Amadou and Mariam Amandla
Amber Pacific Ambulance ltd
American Minor American Princes
Amusement Parks on Fire Amy Miles
An Albatross an angle
Andrew Smith Disaster Annie Hayden
Anthony Mills 'Ghettotrance' Featuring Water Anti-Mechanism
Antler Antonius Block
Apollo Heights Apollo Sunshine
Apollo Up! Apostle Of Hustle
Apsci Aqueduct
Arcade Fire Arms & Legs
Army of Me Arttanker Convoy
As Cities Burn As Fast As
Ashton Allen Asobi Seksu
aswefall At All Cost
Atmosphere au revoir simone
Audible Away Team
Awesome New Republic Ayatollah (DJ)
baby dayliner Baby Teeth
Bad Wizard Bamboo Kids
Bang! Bang! Barr
Bato's Balkan Boogie Bato's Balkan Boogie
Bayside BC Camplight
Beans with Holy Fuck Bell Orchestre
Bellafea Bellglide
Bend Sinister Benzos
Big Bear Bill Ware's Vibes
Billy Nayer Show Bionic Twitch
Black Forest/Black Sea Black Ice
Black Market Militia Black Tie Dynasty
Black Tie Revue Blackalicious
Bling Kong Blood on the Wall
Bloodlined Calligraphy Blow Up Hollywood
Blowfly Blue Method
Blueprint Blues Brother Castro
Blues Explosion Bobby Bare Jr.
BonBomb Bonerama
Books On Tape Boom Bap Project
Bosque Brown Boy Kill Boy
Brandon Butler Brazilian Girls
Bril Brilo De Luz
Broadfield Marchers Brother Ali & BK One
Bruce Williams Quartet Buffalo Springsteen
built like alaska Bullet train to Vegas
Burn In Silence Buttersprites
Byzantine C Boogie
C-Mon & Kypski C-RAYZ WALZ
Cabinet of Natural Curiosities Cajun Gems
Cake Bake Betty Calamalka
Call Me Lightning Cameron McGill
Camouflage Nights Campbell Brothers
Canasta Cannibal Ox
Cantankerous Capital M
Carlos Giffoni Carrie Newcomer & Eliza Gilkyson
Cary Brothers Casey Dienel
Castanets Casual
Catfish Haven Catlow
Caural Cavalier King
Chad VanGaalen Channels
Charlemagne Chaundon
Cheeseburger Chin Up Chin Up
Chinese Stars Choo Choo La Rouge
Chris Berry & Pangea chris garneau
Chris Koza Chris Lee
Chris Mills Chris Mills
Chromelodeon Cindy Bullens
Cinemechanica Circle
Cities Clap Your Hands Say Yeah
Classic Case Cloud Cult
CMJ Film Festival Short Film Selection CMJ Film Festival Short Film Selection
CocoRosie Coheed and Cambria
Cold Cold Cash Machine
Contramano Controller. Controller
Coptic Light Cordero
Cordova Country Egg Bandit
Cousin Craig Wedren
Crash Kelly Crazy James
Crazy Mary Creatures Of The Golden Dawn
Crime In Stereo Criteria
Crooked Fingers Crooked Fingers
Cruiserweight Cryptopsy
Cue Curl Up And Die
Cut Copy Darien Brockington
Darker My Love Darlings
Das Oath Daughters
Dave Mullen Quartet David Berkeley
David Coburn David Dondero
David Gilmour Girls David Hopkins
David Krakauer's Klezmer Madness! David Moore
De Novo Dahl De Novo Dahl
Dead Meadow DeadString Brothers
DeadString Brothers Death Vessel
Decomposure Deena Goodman
Delia & Gavin Demander
Denison Witmer Despised Icon
Detatchment Kit Devendra Banhart & Hairy Fairy
Devin Davis Devin Davis
Devotchka Dhruva
Diamond Nights Die Warzau
Dios Malos Dirty Mary
Dirty On Purpose Dirty Perfect
Disband Disbelief St.
Diverse DJ Carlos Giffoni
DJ Rare Groove DJ Ray Velasquez (All Night)
DJ Rekha DJ Rekha
DJ Steve Aoki Kid Millionaire DJ Steve Aoki Kid Millionaire
Dmonstrations Dogme 95
Doofgoblin Doujah Raze
Doves Dr. Dog
Drag Citizen Dragonette
Dragons Of Zynth Dressy Bessy
Dressy Bessy Drew Isleib & The Long Shadows
Dropping Daylight Drums & Tuba
Dudley Corporation Dungen
Dungen Dusted Dons
Dwele Dynamite Club
Dysrhythmia East 146
Eastern Conference Champions Eiffel Tower
El Da Sensei Electric Shadows
Elephants Elephonic
Elevator Action Elk City
Elvis Sinatra Emery
Emil McGloin Enablers
Erin Mckeown Essie Jain
Essie Jain Esthero
Euphone Every move A Picture
Evil Nine Excepter
Exile Ezra Reich
Fabulous Entourage Face Tomorrow
Facing New York Faith
Fatal Flying Guiloteens Favourite Sons
Feathers Feist
Fionn O'Lochlainn Fireball Ministry
Five Horse Johnson Flameshovel Records Showcase
Flipsyde Flying
Flyleaf Foerign Islands
FOR REAL FOR REAL Forecast
Foreign Born Forge & Amen
Forget Cassettes Forro In The Dark
Forro In The Dark Fountains Of Wayne
Four Volts Frankie Palmer
Fredalba Friends Like These
Frontier Index Fruit Bats
Fur Cups For Teeth Fursaxa
Futureworld Funk Gabby La La
Galitcha and Yves Lambert Genghis Tron
Geoff Harris Get Him Eat Him
Ghislain Poirier Ghost Town Symphony
Ghostride Ghosty
Giant Drag Gil Mantera's Party Dream
Girls In Hawaii Glenn Kotche (of Wilco)
Glitter Pals Goblin Cock
God Forbid God Or Julie
Goldrush Goldspot
Gorch Fock Gore Gore Girls
Gore Gore Girls Grace Potter and the Nocturnals
gracer Grafton
Grand Buffet GREATDAYFORUP
Green Lemon Greenness
Grizzly Bear Group Sounds
Guyora Kats Hail Social
Half Way To Gone Hall Of Fame
He Is Legend Head of Femur
Hello Nurse Hellogoodbye
Henry Shead Heston Rifle
Hexes & Ohs Hey! Willpower
Hockey Night Hollis Brown
Holmes Holopaw
Honeyhander Honky
Hopewell Horse the Band
Hot Chip Hot IQs
House of Fools Houston Calls
Houston McCoy Hugh Pool
HypoFixx I Am The Avalanche
I Self Devine I.C.U
Ian Love Ida
Idiot Pilot IfIHadAHiFi
illumina Imani Uzuri
Immaculate Machine Imogen Heap
Innaway Into the Moat
J DiMenna J-Live
Jack Grace Band Jacob
Jaleel Shaw Trio James Carter Organ Trio
Jamie Leonhart Jarrod Gorble
Jascha Ephraim Jason Anderson
Jason Collett Jason Forrest
Jason Forrest Jasper James
Jay Nash Jaymay
Jeff Klein Jennie Benford
Jennie Benford Jennifer O'Connor
Jennifer O'Connor Jesse Harris
Jessica Lurie Jessie Diamond and the Thousand
Jessy Greene Jet By Day
Jim Bianco Jim Yoshii Pile-Up
Joanna Erdos JoAnna James
Joe Purdy Joe Scudda
Joe Whyte Joggers
John Houlihan John Vanderslice
John Vanderslice Jonny Lives!
Jorane Josh Radin
Josh Wink JOY ZIPPER
Judah Bauer / Stewart Lupton Julia Darling
Julia Haltigan Julian Velard
Julius Airwave June
Jungli Jupiter Sunrise
Just Surrender K-Hill
k. paine kaki king
Kalpana Karaoke Killed The Cat
Karen Gibson Roc & Fluid Karina Zeviani
Katastatik Kate Earl
Katie Pfaffl Kayo Dot
Kaze Ken Wessel/Lou Grassi/Ken Filiano Trio
Kenny Ali Kevin Devine
Khanate Kid Dakota
Kidwave Kieren Mcgee
Kill The Vultures Kind of Like Spitting
King Elementary Kinion
Kinski Kissing Tigers
Kites Knife Skills
Koester Koo
KT Tunstall Kudu
La Rocca Ladies And Gentlemen
Lady Sovereign Ladytron (DJ Set)
Ladytron (DJ Set) Langhorne Slim
Larkin Grimm Larry Keel and Natural Bridge with Tony Trischka
Laura Minor Laura Minor
Laura Minor Laura Thomas Band
Laura Veirs Le Concorde
Leeroy Stagger Legacy
Legacy Leroy Thomas & Radical Roadrunners
Let Go Levy
Ley Royal Scam Ligeia
Limbeck Limited Express (Has Gone?)
Lion Fever Little Brother
Living Better Electrically Living Things
Logjam Lola Ray
Long Live Death Longwave
Look What I Did looker
Loren Stillman Quartet Losa
Lost At Sea Lost Film Fest
LOURDS LoVid
Lucero Lucky Dragons
LUNGS OF A GIANT M.A.S.S. [ mass ]
Made Out Of Babies Madison
Madison Strays Mae
Magneta Lane mahogany
Make Believe Make Good Your Escape
Malkovich Man Alive
Man In Gray Man Man
Maplewood Marat
Maria Taylor Marjorie Fair
Mark Pender Band Mars Black
Mars Ill Mary Lou Lord
Mary Timony Mascott
Maserati Mass Shivers
Masta Killa Matt Hoffer
Maya Acuzena Mazarin
Mean Reds Mel Gibson And The Pants
Mellowdrone Men Women & Children
Metalux Metric
mewithoutYou MIDIval PundtiZ
Mike 'Sport' Murphy Mike Wexler
Milo Z Miranda Lee Richards
Miss TK and the Revenge Mistakes
Mittens Mixel Pixel
Mommy and Daddy Monopoli
Monsters Are Waiting More Dogs
MORLEY Morwenn
Motion City Soundtrack Mouthus
Mudville Muthawit
My Only Hope MY ROBOT FRIEND
My Victoria Mynus Kryss
Myracle Brah Nakatomi Plaza
Narrator Nashville Pussy
Nat Baldwin Nautical Almanac
Need New Body Neon Blonde
Neva Dinova New Buffalo
New Buffalo New Electric
New Pornographers New Professionals
New Radio Nicole Atkins
Nicole Paradiso Nightmare of You
Nisennenmondai Niyaz
No Trigger Nodes of Ranvier
notekillers Nouvelle Vague
Novillero Nural
NYCSmoke O.C.
Octoberman Odiorne
Of Montreal Ogans
Ogans Ogans
Old Blind Dogs Omega One (DJ)
On a Sun One Block Radius
orange park Orenda Fink
Other Passengers Ox
Oxford Collapse P.O.S
Paleo Panic Division
Panico Paradise Boys
Paramore Parker & Lily
Particle Parts & Labor
Patent Pending Patrick Walsh
Pattern is Movement Paul Brill
Paul Duncan Paul Klemperer
Pawa Up First Pela
Pencilgrass People In Planes
Pete Galub & the Annuals Pete Rock
PETER WALKER Philip Glass Remixes: Brian Bender
Philip Glass Remixes: Marcos Romeros Philip Glass Remixes: Nico Muhly/ Lisa Bielawa/ Hector Castillo/ Kate Simko
phofo (dj set) Phone (DJ Paul Epworth)
Picastro Pilot to Gunner
Pistola Pistolera
Pistolera Planeside
Plat Plum Crazy
Poingly Polysics
Poni Hoax Pony Up!
Pop Wheelies Portastatic
Precious Fathers PRIESTESS
Princess Princess Superstar
Principles of Geometry Procon
Project .44 Prurient
Psychic Hearts Psychic Ills
Puny Human Quasar Wut-Wut
Queen Esther Queenadreena
R.L. Stein And Friends R.U.O.K
Rahim Raising the Fawn
Ramallah Rana
Rapider Than Horsepower Rasputina
Raydar Ellis Read Yellow
Receptors Red Sparowes
Red Wanting Blue Regina Spektor
remedy for ruin Rescue
Resonator Retribution Gospel Choir feat. Alan Sparhawk
Rev. Vince Anderson Rhythmn Fest w/ Mark Ronson
Richard Buckner Ricky Valentine
Riddle of Steel Riviera
Robbers On High Street Robert Skoro
Robin Horlock Band Rock 'N' Roll Soldiers
Roger Clyne & The Peacemakers Rogue Wave
Roughed Up Folk Russ Godfrey Of Morcheeba - DJ Sets between bands
rye coalition SABROSA PURR
Saints + Lovers Sam Bisbee
sam champion Sam Roberts Band
Samara Lubelski Sarah Bettens
Saturday Looks Good To Me Say Hi To Your Mom
Scarecrow Collection Scary Kids Scaring Kids
School Of Rock Does The Ramones Scoville Unit
Sean Costello Seemless
Self Against City Self Scientific
Serene Lakes Shaka Zulu Overdrive
Shane Bartell Shankbone Mystic Project
Shawn Amos She Wants Revenge
Shellshag Shiny Toy Guns
Shy Child Silverstein
Silversun Pickups Since By Man
Since the Flood Singapore Sling
Single Frame Sir Alice
Skeletons & The Girl - Faced Boys Slim Moon
Slowlands Slumber Party
Slunt smallspace
Smokey's Secret Family Smoosh
Snatches of Pink SNMNMNM
Socratic Soft
Some By Sea Something For Rockets
Son Son Ambulance
songodsuns aka 2mex of the Visionaries Sound Team
Southkill Spalding Rockwell
Sparrow Spartan Fidelity
Spicy Rizzacks Spires That In The Sunset Rise
Sponge Spottiswoode & His Enemies
Square Johns Stark
start the end Steel Train
Steel Train Stephane Wrembel
Stephanie McKay Steve Reynolds
Steven Davis Jazz Project Stromba
Strong Arm Steady Struction
Sub-Division Subtitle
Suffrajett Suffrajett
Suicide Girls Live Burlesque Supersystem
Surefire Swords
Sybris Tagine
Talkdemonic Tangiers
Tarantula A.D. Taylor Hollingsworth
Teada Telepathy
Temper Temper Temple Of Echoes
Templo Diez Tenement Halls
Terminal Test-Icicles
The 88 The Absence
The AKA's The Ants
The Arm The Attack Formation
The Avatars The Banner
The Big Huge The Black Halos
The Black Hollies the Black Out Pact
The Black Spoons The Blue Van
The Bon Savants The Break-Up
The Brian Jonestown Massacre The Brian Jonestown Massacre
The Brought Low the Can Kickers
The Capes The Chalets
The Changes The Churchills
The Citizens The Cobble Hillbillies
The Comas The Constantines
The Contrast The Cribs
The Damn Personals The Dandy Warhols
The Dials The Dix
The Dollyrots The Dom Minasi Trio
The Draft The Dreadful Yawns
The Eames Era The Ebb & Flow
The End of the World The Everyothers
The Evil Queens The Exit
The Fame The Fame (Chicago)
The Fatales The Films
The Fine Lines The Fire and Reason
The Firebird Band The Firebird Band
The Five O'Clock Heroes the flesh
The Forms The Foundry Field Recordings
The Get Quick The Giraffes
The Gossip The GoStation
The Grates The Grip Weeds
The Hanks The Hard Lessons
The Harlem Shakes The Hawaii Show
The Head Set The Heavenly States
The Heavenly States the High Dials
The High Strung The Hold Steady
The Hold Steady The Honorary Title
The Hush Sound The Illuminati
The Intimate Room w/ J. Walter Hawkes The Isotoners
The Juan MacLean The Junior Panthers
The Keep Aways The King of France
The Kingdom The Kingsbury Manx
The Kohl Heart The Lab Rats
The Lashes The Last Vegas
The Late Greats The Life and Times
The Like The Living Blue
The Lot Six The Love Kills Theory
The Love Scene The Love Scene
The Lovemakers The Makers
The Mercanaries The Minor Times
The Mohawk Lodge the morning after girls
The Most Serene Republic The Mugs
The Mutts The Natural History
The Naysayer The New Trust
The Novaks The Numbers
The Octopus Project The Oranges Band
The Outline The Pale Pacific
The Picture The Pine
The Planet The The Plastic Constellations
The Po Po's The Poison Control Center
The Psychic Paramount The Punks
The Rabbits The Radio
The Rakes The Red Death
The Reputation The Rewinds
The Robot Ate Me The Rosebuds
The Rosebuds The Sad Little Stars
The Saddest Landscape The Sammies
The Scotland Yard Gospel Choir The Scotland Yard Gospel Choir
The Sexy Magazines the show is the rainbow
the silent league The Silent Type
The Spinto Band The Static Age
THE STRAYS The Sun
The Sun The Swayback
The Swedes The Switch
The Talk The Teeth
The Thieves The Twenty-Twos
The Upwelling THE VACATION
The Velvet Teen The Volebeats
The Whole Fantastic World The Willowz
The Winnerys The Witnesses
The Working Title The Zoobombs
This is Me Smiling Thunderlip
Tia Carrera Tiger Bear Wolf
Tiger Saw Tilly & The Wall
Tim Fite Tim Fite
Tim Williams Tiny Amps
Tiny Steps Toby Lightman
Tokyo Rose Tokyo Rose
Tom McRae Tom Vek
Tommie Sunshine Tomorrow's Friend
Tonikom Tony Scherr
Torche Towers Of London
Tralala Traveling Bell
Trouble Everyday Troubled Hubble
Turing Machine Turmoil
Two Gallants Ty Braxton
UDET Ultra Dolphins
Umbrellas Ume
Unbusted uncut
Unique Chique Unisex Salon
Unlove Urdog
Ursa Minor Vague Angels
Valerie Francis Valient Thorr
Van Hayride Vera Beren's Gothic Chamber Blues Ensemble
Vic Thrill & The Saturn Missile Victory At Sea
Vienna Teng Vijay Iyer
Virginia Coalition Viva K
Viva Voce Voicst
Von Iva Voxtrot
Waking Ashland Walking Concert
Washington Social Club Watchers
Watershed Wax Poetic
Wax Poetic We Are Scientists
We Are Wolves We Versus the Shark
Weird Owl What About Frank
White Silver Whole Wheat Bread
Why? Why?
Wide Right Wilderness
William Elliott Whitmore William Elliott Whitmore
Willy Mason Windsor for the Derby
Wintersleep Wires On Fire
Witch Without Gravity
Wolfmother Wolfparade
World Leader Pretend World/Inferno Friendship Society
worm is green Wrens
xbxrx xLooking Forwardx
Yakuza Yip-Yip
young and sexy Your Enemies Friends
Youth Group Zeke
zerobridge Zom Zoms
zZz [Daryl]

so, yeah. so like, I don't even know what to write right now.

yes.

~vvb

tonight: clap your hands say yeah opening for the national at the iron horse. alligator has been lodged in my cd player since kristin sent it across the country in her bag of love and goodies.

tomorrow: jump, little children at the paradise in boston. I've been told that good things await me... singalongs and hot boys and life changing moments. !!!

saturday: cleaning up, selling tires, running errands, and getting a boxspring and frame for my bed (finally!) for thirty bucks off craigslist - by the way, if you're in connecticut, this guy rocks - http://www.urbanminers.com - his name is joe and he'll hook you up.

sunday: packing and lounging and the 4:53 train into the city.

wish me luck!

~vvb

so, I'm like, getting nervous a little bit.

it's been brought to my attention by several friends that I am going to new york city, for a week, by myself, to meet up with a bunch of people I don't know and probably won't hang out with socially. except for kevin suggs. we love kevin suggs. but other than that, victoria needs to fend for herself. for like, days.

it's a good thing they invented cellphones. and meetings.

I don't think about this stuff. my head goes kexp is coming, holy eighty million bands batman, maybe I can stay at michael's, shit my head is exploding... how in the world could I not go to this? the actual logistics of being there don't cross my mind.

that's probably a good thing. I can freak myself out pretty easily.

so like, that's it I guess.

holy shit.

~vvb

where do I start?

how do you possibly pay unrequested homage to someone who has made the biggest difference in your life out of everyone you've ever known? I guess you just talk about who they are and what they do. whenever you feel like you should.

so, yeah. so like, this is one of those times.

kristin quite possibly has the biggest balls out of everyone I've ever met. she's the best writer I know, right up there with a couple of boys in bands that we worship. so that's like, really good. she's never wavered in being herself, even when it meant that the boy would leave or the friends might disagree. and that is a mighty feat. she's sparkles and feathers on everything, with an impeccable sense of timing. and she like, knows stuff. like what to say and who to quote and how things feel. I think a lot of people know how things feel, but she's just got this way of putting things... I mean, she's gone through, like, everything. so when something is happening to me, she just knows. for real. not like speculating about crap that's never happened to her. she's so - she's the moment when jordan takes angela's hand, she's the best kind of heartbreak, she gentle and strong and doesn't let me get away with anything.

I love her so much, for all of it.

you should see the way she leans.

so after ten years in boston, kristin fled the scene. got rid of most of her crap, packed up verna, and drove westward. towards the mother ship, into blazing sunsets, a million brilliant moments. because she's a woman who can and who does. but now she's feeling a little homesick, and I'm torn between telling her how much it means to me to watch her follow her dreams and sobbing for her to come home when I'm parked on the side of the road with ben gibbard blaring through the speakers, unable to move.

I guess I just did both.

maybe I need to buy a boat.

I could go on and on about things, but I'm really trying to take this "do work at work" thing a little more seriously. so I'll rip someone else off and go back to the phone calls -

knowing her is like drinking stars.

*sigh*

xo

~vvb

I had this dream the other night. it was you, only taller, and we had suntans, and we were comfortable and smiling. you sort of looked like you, crossed with the guy that lives on the second floor, crossed with someone I've never met, or maybe everybody I've ever met.

I'm aching for the new death cab. I don't believe in stealing music, like a guy I know who has had the album for weeks, without paying for it. unless you do that and then go pay for it after. but that's not me.

so, yeah. so in the dream, we could like, talk and stuff. but we weren't saying much, it was more that I knew in the dream that we could. and there was an apartment or someplace where it was dim but lit with a kind of glow, and I think we were maybe going to go for a ride in an old convertible. and you had glasses on. but then so does the guy from the second floor. and I woke up wanting to write you about it, but knowing that there really wasn't any point to that.