The Post-Rockist

-I think covers have an unfair reputation in much of the DIY, indie music world. Playing a few choice covers to show the audience where you’re coming from doesn’t put you on the same level as the dueling piano bar that plays nothing but Billy Joel requests from drunken bachelorettes all night in the guido district of town.

-Case in point: The Blind Eyes’ original material is the sort of smart, taut guitar pop perfected decades ago by the likes of Nick Lowe and Elvis Costello & The Attractions, so it was no surprise that they decided to devote themselves to the very best of the spectacled one’s 1970s output, from a spot on cover of “Welcome to the Working Week” to a heavily modified adaptation of “Watching the Detectives.” I was listening to a lot of early Costello in anticipation of this night, and they didn’t disappoint.

-Their set-closing Costello cover of “(What’s So Funny ‘Bout) Peace, Love, and Understanding,” which is itself a cover of a Lowe song (which probably wasn’t meant to be so meta), was one of the definite highlights of the evening. (Continued)

I wasn’t really surprised to find that the Xiu Xiu show on Tuesday night was moved from the large Crofoot Ballroom to the much smaller Pike Room.

First, it was a Tuesday—worst day for a concert or for anything fun ever. Second, Xiu Xiu is one of the most unlikely bands to bring people out of their comfortable houses. Their intense, abstract, and aching art noise rock isn’t the kind of music that draws large crowds on a weekday. So it ended up being me and 30 other people, many of them surprisingly young. (I wasn’t the winner of the oldest person at the show award, but I definitely placed)

I don’t know anything about the bands that opened for Xiu Xiu. Sorry–didn’t do my homework. But if I had, I probably would’ve tried to show up just as Xiu Xiu was starting instead of arriving way early. We don’t like to be negative here at Post-Rockist central, but I’ll say two things about my pre-Xiu Xiu experience: (Continued)

I don’t think there’s a bigger fan of rock & roll music than Bruce Springsteen. It probably helps that he’s one of rock music’s biggest stars, but seeing him last night at the Scottrade Center in St. Louis he looked as genuinely excited to be there as everyone else in the stadium.

The show started an hour late, and as I sat in my $70 seat sipping on my $8 Bud Light I had plenty of time to speculate on what song he’d open with. “Tenth Avenue Freeze-out” perhaps, or “The Promised Land,” or even “The E Street Shuffle”; I was giddy with anticipation. What I was not expecting, however, was a cover of the Crystals’ “Then He Kissed Me.” While a 1963 girl group hit seems like an odd choice for a group of street tough Jersey boys to play, it felt like a completely natural part of their set: Max Weinberg laid down the rudimentary blocks on his drumset, while the four guitarists, two pianists, and lone bass and brass players built the song up to the appropriate Phil Spector-ish wall of sound. More tellingly, it was the first of many covers that marked the start of Rock & Roll History 101 with Prof. Springsteen.

“Then She Kissed Me”

The band then jumped 40 years forward with “Radio Nowhere,” one of my favorites off last year’s Magic, in part because it sounds so much like vintage Springsteen. In fact, the whole evening sounded like vintage Springsteen, as if the youth and passion that had once made the E Street Band such legendary performers had never left them. For the entirety of the three-and-a-half hour performance, Bruce never ceased to amaze with his on-stage antics, outdoing rockers a third his age. He would sprint across the stage and slide down on his knees; jump back up and do a quick succession of head-high Rockettes assembly line kicks; swing his Fender Esquire around his entire torso, catch it, and proceed to lay into an impassioned lead solo. Unfuckingbelievable. I pulled a groin muscle just watching him. (Continued)

I’m going to see Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band tomorrow night, and I haven’t been this excited for something since that time when I got an official Red Ryder, carbine action, two-hundred shot range model air rifle for Christmas a few years back. That’s right, the Boss is coming to St. Louis to anthemically rock out the very un-rock & roll Scottrade Center, and I’ve got tickets. Tickets that I paid nearly $70 for and which will still seat me way up the nosebleed section, but tickets nonetheless.

In anticipation I’ve been listening to tons of old Bruce records, everything from Greetings From Asbury Park (1973) through Born in the U.S.A. (1984), and picking things back up again with The Seeger Sessions (2006) and Magic (2007). I don’t have any records in between, so as far as I know he just took 22 years off to focus on his cameo on High Fidelity and play some shows for that John Kerry guy. So, hoping that he plays nothing but material that I’m intimately familiar with, I’ve compiled some outstanding past performances the Boss and co. have put on through the years and around the world. One, two, three, four!

Counting with Bruce Springsteen

“It’s Hard To Be a Saint in the City”

London, 1975
(Continued)

Told you it was effin’ sweet!

And yeah, I realize, on some of your monitors out there in internetland, that this video player covers up some of our background and links and stuff. But this performance is so great that I don’t care. It kind of adds to the awesomeness, I think.

As if the last night of Pitchfork Music Festival wasn’t enough to sate my need for live music, I decided to catch North Carolina’s Bowerbirds at Schubas after leaving Union Park after Cut Copy’s four-song, festival-closing performance (and by far the best four-song only performance I’ve experienced).

Bowerbirds are quite a change of tone and volume from Cut Copy, but after a tiring weekend full of blasting loudspeakers, it was nice to end things on softer, more acoustic notes. I’ve been a fan of this band for some time now, but the live performance made my love for the band grow even stronger. (Continued)

Sunday at Pitchfork. The Post-Rockist recollects….

1:00 p.m. Times New Viking (C)

Todd: Every time I play TNV’s Rip It Off for someone, I always hear the same complaint: “It’s too loud for my ears. They’re signed to Matador, why can’t they take advantage of more modern production techniques and add flutes and piccolos and dance beats to make it easier to listen to? I’m going to go read the AARP newsletter now.” Guess what? The way they sound on the record is exactly how they sound live. The Viking kids put on a really fun, noisy show with lots of references to being teenagers and doing drugs. Two of the greatest joys of youth.

The best part: when the drummer/vocalist brought his vocal mic directly into contact with the cymbal he was banging to create a fantastic racket on the loudspeakers. The sound guy rushed out because he thought something had fallen only to be shrugged off like the chump that he was. (Continued)