This month’s episode is chock-full of new music from Oddisee, Fred Thomas, Speedy Ortiz, Theesatisfaction, The Amazing, and Built to Spill. I also discuss the Kurt Cobain documentary “Montage of Heck” and end the episode with a look at Bob Dylan’s “John Wesley Harding.” To check out the latest episode, listen HERE or you can subscribe on iTunes and Stitcher (search keyword: BDWPS).
“They poured strychnine in his cup
And shook to see him drink it up:
They shook, they stared as white’s their shirt:
Them it was their poison hurt.
–I tell the tale that I heard told.
Mithridates, he died old.”
“Terence this is Stupid Stuff” by A.E. Housman
The next morning we hung out in the woods for a few hours, eventually packing up, hiking back down to the car, and heading into Estes. Paul wanted to show me around downtown. It’s designed like one of those mock old timey towns with extravagant street lights and roads made of brick. We roamed around for a bit, got some burgers, and returned to the car a few hours later (I honestly can’t remember one highlight from our little stroll through tourist town, so I’ll spare you the details).
Next up breweries (now that’s more like it!). We headed west toward For Collins, a virtual Mecca of brewing with a whopping six breweries to choose from, including: Odell’s, Coors, Fort Collins Brewing, and the birthplace of Fat Tire (my all-time favorite brew): New Belgium. As we drove I became giddy. Sure, we already visited 17 breweries during our trip, but New Belgium was the Holy Grail (or pint), the Beer-topia, the Oz at the end of our beer soaked brick road.
Unlike me, Paul’s enthusiasm for New Belgium was less than thrilled. In fact, he suggested several times that we skip the brewery altogether in order to visit some of the lesser known breweries in town. I stuck to my guns; we had to visit what I imagined to be a Charlie and the Chocolate Factory type of wonderland with rivers of Fat Tire and little midget workers called Hoppa Loppas (I know, I’m reaching).
After driving around Fort Collins for about 30 minutes trying to locate the mystical brewery, we finally found 500 Linden Street, the address I’ve read many a night while staring lovingly at a Fat Tire box. The brewery was impossible to miss; the large New Belgium emblem emblazon on the sign out front, the enormous steeple of glass, the log cabiny wood siding, and the parking lot filled with cars, bumper to bumper. Even the bike rack out front was filled, reminding me of the bike rack area in front of the middle school I attended as a kid.
The only thing missing was an angry Vice Principal Bish shuffling around and yelling at people.
When we finally found a parking spot, Paul turned off the car and looked at me. “I’m telling you this is going to suck…” I didn’t really understand his hatred for New Belgium: maybe the popularity? I still think he hates Vampire Weekend due simply to their popularity. Or was it Paul’s penchant for disagreeing? I didn’t care; we were going to the promise land, whether Paul liked it or not.
Instead of acknowledging his negativity, I handed him the camera and commanded, “Take a picture of me in front of the New Belgium sign douche.”
I'm all smiles, sitting on the bike like a giddy 12-year-old. The guy behind the camera is a different story. .
After our photo session we finally entered the tasting room, which was more like a tasting hall: the walls were adorned with moving sculptures constructed of bike parts, Warhol-esque paintings stretching to the top of the vaulted glass ceiling, and pristine wooden tables stretching the length of the extensive room. Pushing our way through the crowd, I noticed that the patrons were much different than what we’d seen at most breweries. Instead of middle-aged beer connoisseurs with curly moustaches and bald spots, we were surrounded by a combination of touristy rich old people and young naïve couples.
I hadn’t seen more than a couple women at the other 17 breweries we’d been to, yet inside New Belgium the females outnumbered the men, all of them clinging tightly to their male counter part’s arms as they daintily took sips of their beers, usually grimacing in anguish at a beer that didn’t taste like Bud Light. We took a seat at the bar, and after surveying the scene, Paul turned to me and mumbled, “Fucking terrorists.” He was right about the crowd, but I wasn’t going to let it ruin my New Belgium experience. I convinced myself that the crowd was due to the popularity of their beer.
We waited around for about 10 minutes to be served – I can’t blame the bartenders, the place was packed. Eventually, a flustered server brought us over a piece of paper with a checklist of beers on tap. He told us to pick the four beers we’d like to try and left us to our decision making.
Being a big New Belgium fan, I had already tasted most of the brews they had to offer: Sunshine’s citrus zest, Trippel’s fruity hops, 1554’s version of stout light, and Abbey, a malty journey that challenges the crown that Fat Tire holds in the kingdom of New Belgium (Mothership Whit, Skinny Dip, and Blue Paddle are like the red headed step-children I don’t acknowledge). I decided to try the three unfamiliar flavors (Old Cherry, Loose Lips, and Mighty Arrow) and chose Fat Tire for my final taster. I figured when you’re on Mount Olympus, you have to try the ambrosia.
When we handed in our slips the bartender glanced at them, grimaced, and handed them back. “You guys need to answer the question of the day.”
“What?” I asked in confusion.
“The question of the day: what super power would you have if you could have any?” He pointed to the bottom of the checklist as I pondered a question that sounded reminiscent of an 8th grade journal topic. I thought back to when my brothers and I would visit my grandparent’s farmhouse and wear dishtowels as capes. We decorated them with markers: I was Lightning Boy, Alex was Fire Man, and my brother Nick was Everything Man (basically, he had every power you could imagine, which in hindsight was pretty much bullshit). I contemplated jotting down Everything-Man, but decided upon the power of reading minds, simply because Matt Parkman is easily my favorite character on “Heroes” (You know, that super heroe show that was good for a season and a half?). Sure, there’s the goofy Hiro, the cute Cheerleader, and the brooding Peter Petrelli, but Parkman is just some dude. Not a complex character, not funny, not adorable: just an everyday guy who just so happens to read minds.
The bartender picked up our slips again, and didn’t seem too impressed with my choice of “reading minds”. After another 10 minute wait, four small glasses were placed in front of us containing a rainbow of brew colors, from gold to brown.
First up, Old Cherry made me wince in a cough syrup kind of way. But then again, I wasn’t expecting much. I love eating cherries, yet I don’t think I’ve ever tasted something cherry flavored that I’ve enjoyed. I followed this up with Mighty Arrow, New Belgium’s version of a pale ale, and after all the amazing pales I tasted in Montana and Idaho, it paled in comparison. Strike 2. I didn’t know what to expect with the Loose Lips, and it’s a good thing I wasn’t expecting much, because it was pitiful…just plain pitiful. I should have known; loose lips are never, never a good thing.
Finally, after this series of brutal disappointments, I came to my saving grace: Fat Tire. I sniffed the frothy head, cherishing every moment, looking for one last beacon of hope amidst my day of disenchantment at New Belgium. But for some reason, after an hour surrounded by terrorists, gaudy decorations, and a series of ever worsening brews, the Fat Tire didn’t taste quite right. Maybe it was in my head, but the nutty undertones were gone, the refreshing finish vanished, the chocolaty aftertaste unrecognizable. Maybe the poison’s I drank moments before deadened my taste buds, or maybe my anticipation guaranteed disappointment. Whatever the case, my visit to New Belgium ended up being a bust. The curtain had been pulled back by little Toto (or Paul), and the money making tourist machine of New Belgium had been exposed.
Behind Curtain #1: Comercialism
As I dragged my feet back to the car, Paul mocked my discontent, “I told you it would suck. New Belgium are sellouts.” I ignored his taunting, got in the car, and put the key in the ignition.
“Where to next,” I mumbled.
“O’Dell’s my friend. You will not be disappointed in them.” I scoffed at his confidence and drove around the block toward O’Dells. You have to love a town with four breweries located within a block of each other.
Remember when Mr. Roger's could drive a block one way and be on Broadway and drive a block the other way and be at a hotdog factory? Fort Collins except it's beer both ways.
Like New Belgium, O’Dell’s had all the trappings of a widely distributed brewery but lacked the packed parking lot. Inside the walls were decorated with beautiful oil paintings depicting the labels of the various beers on tap. We walked to the register and were greeted by a skinny hippie chick with shoulder length blond hair.
“Hey boys, can I get you a sampler or a pint?”
Paul and I shared smiles and told her a sampler sounded perfect. She left to fill our beers as we looked around in awe at the spectacular surroundings. When she returned she held a thick 2 X 4 with holes cut in it to hold six large sampler glasses filled with beer of gold, brown, and amber.
After paying she commented, “By the way, I love the shirt.” I looked down to see I was wearing my worn out, stinky Built to Spill t-shirt.
“Oh…thanks,” I sheepishly answered.
“Yeah, I almost got Doug Marsh to perform at my wedding.”
“Whoah, that would rule,” Paul commented.
“Yeah, unfortunately the band was touring out east at the time…anyways, enjoy your beers. The IPA is amazing.” A girl who appreciates a hoppy IPA and Built to Spill? I envied the man who found a girl with such great taste.
We took a seat near the back and prepared for our trip down O’Dell lane. I sat staring at our wide array of choices, trying to decide which would be the perfect choice for beginning our drinking journey.
I tried the IPA first, and Built to Spill girl couldn’t have been more right. All of the beers on our wooden platter were as amazing as the Built to Spill music catalog, but if the IPA were a song it would be “Carry the Zero”, a notch above the rest.
If only this song had come out when I was 10, I would have been good at math:
While Paul and I conversed over some of the best beer we had the entire trip, I noticed a couple guys next to us sitting with a tall brunette. One of them was wearing a No Fear cap backwards and chomped away at his gum as he sipped on the Cut-Throat Porter. This irritated me to no end. “Paul, look at that douche over their chewing his Juicy Fruit while drinking these beers.”
Paul began to laugh, saying, “Dude, you’re just like the guy from ‘Sideways’, freaking out about his buddy chewing gum while drinking wine.” I joined in on the laughter, realizing I’d transformed into a beer snob during our brewery tour, a road trip that originally spawned from the classic Alexander Payne film.
I continued watching the douchey group of two red necks and a hot brunette, occasionally making eye contact with the towering vixen. Like I’d done many times before on the trip, I wondered if one of the dudes was a boyfriend. If they were, I didn’t think they would have appreciated her glancing at me once every minute. Was she checking me out, or was I creeping her out? If only I were Matt Parkman…
Finishing up our tour, feeling hopped up from the welcoming atmosphere and stupendous brews, we noticed a nearby table with a different sampler that contained only four beers. Once finished, feeling quite accomplished, we returned to the counter and asked Built to Spill girl about the four beer sampler. She informed us of the Specialty Sampler comprised of all their recent seasonals and cask brews. We ordered up a round of specialties, had a little more small talk about Built to Spill with her, and returned to our table to continue our path to Shit-Faced Town.
The new four beers were surprisingly even better than the original six, although our inebriation may have been overpowering our taste buds at that point. The stout was especially potent packing a powerful burst of flavor to our palettes, mixing the hints of espresso, chocolate, and malts into a creamy poison fit for King Mithridates. Paul fell in love with the stout proclaiming it his favorite of the trip (I don’t get Paul’s love of stouts considering he despises the taste of coffee). He decided to approach the counter to buy a growler of the stouty goodness so he could enjoy the brew while back home in Nebraska. A few minutes later he returned, not with a growler of black gold, but two pints of the coffee black liquid.
“The guy at the counter rules. He said they don’t sell the stout in growler because it’s a limited edition special reserve, so I just started going on and on about how it’s the best stout we’ve had on our brewery tour and that we really wanted to take some to appreciate back home. I think he might be the brew master or something because he talked about how proud he was of this batch and said we could have a couple free pints to appreciate the stout one more time.” Overflowing samplers, flavorful brews abound, and free pints of the greatest stout in the United States? Our O’Dell experience was possibly the best yet brewery-wise. After the disappointment that was New Belgium, O’Dell’s totally redeemed our day. We sipped our brews slowly, savoring each drop, while talking endlessly about our incredible road trip.
As I watched the pint slowly evaporate the next half hour, I knew that just like that pint of heavenly goodness, our road trip would soon be finished, and all we would be left with were the memories. I knew I’d have many more tasty stouts in my future and that more summer road trips laid in the years ahead, but none would be quite like the one I’d just experienced. As I sipped the last drops of the stout, I let it sit upon my tongue just a little bit longer, letting the flavor soak deep into the recesses of my memory.
In the 90s, Big Bad VooDoo Daddy scored a hit with “You and Me and the Bottle Makes Three”, a title Marilyn Manson jump off from with “You and Me and the Devil Makes Three”. I prefer Akron/Family’s approach in “River” singing “You and me and the fire makes three”, warm imagery of what it’s like to be out in nature with your two companions being a river and a campfire. Oh, but I know there is much more going on here. Could the fire be symbolic of the feelings felt between two lovers, with the female being hard to get a grasp of much like a river? Or maybe I’m just an English teacher in search of symbolism…
Yes, I know Nathan Williams, the genius behind Wavves, is a dick, but I’m sure John Lennon could be an asshole at times too.
“You Never Know”
Speaking of the Beatles, is it just me or does this song sound like the spawn of George Harrison? Don’t hear it? Get two minutes and 55 seconds in and maybe you’ll know what I’m talking about – the answers hidden within the sliding guitar solo. Even if you don’t hear the ghost of George, at least take joy in Jeff Tweedy dropping all his worries and singing a happy song for a change.
22. Alela Diane
“White as Diamonds”
There is nothing quite as hypnotic as the sound of Alela’s voice jumping into falsetto throughout this song. Just when you are falling in a dreamlike sleep, the notes shoot out at you, surprising you and casting an irresistable spell like Cupid’s arrow.
21. Bill Callahan
“All Thoughts are Prey to Some Beast”
If you saw “The Hangover”, you may recall the moment where Mike Tyson is enthralled by the pounding drum fill of Phil Collin’s “In the Air Tonight”. “All Thoughts Are Prey to Some Beast” has the same rumbling drums, although they don’t attack you like Tyson in the boxing ring. Instead, like a musical Lennox Lewis, the drums slowly overtake you, building and building and building throughout the six-minute opus. This song is larger than life with lyrics to match (I included them all; they’re that damn good):
The leafless tree looked like a brain
The birds within were all the thoughts and desires within me
Hoppin’ around from branch to branch, or snug in their nests listenin’ in
An eagle came over the horizon and shook the branches with its sight
The softer thoughts: starlings, finches, and wrens
The softer thoughts, they all took flight
The eagle looked clear through the brain tree, emptying thoughts saved for me
Maybe I’ll make this one my home, consolidate the nests of the tiny
Raise a family of might like me
Then something struck him, wings of bone
Sweet desires and soft thoughts were all gone
The eagle shrieked, “I’m alone”
Well it was time to flee the tree
The eagle snuck up on the wind one talon at a time
Being sky king of the sky, what did he have to fear
All thoughts are prey to some beast
All thoughts are prey to some beast
Sweet desire and soft thoughts, return to me
Sweet desire and soft thoughts, return to me
This song was featured as the intro-music to E!’s “Live From the Red Carpet” show for the Oscars (don’t make fun of me; my girlfriend was watching it). The choice seems fitting for a night where actors and actresses dress to impress. Mirah usually records music that is bare-bones and personal, but her song “Generosity” shows her dressing up her music with an elegant string section and a verbose presentation that fit perfectly amidst Hollywood’s self-congratulatory pomp and circumstance.
“(I Hate) My Job”
It’s too bad this song wasn’t released back in 1999. It would have worked great alongside “Damn it Feels Good to be a Gangsta” on the “Office Space” soundtrack. Actually, 2009 might have been the worst year to release this song. How can you complain about your job when a large portion of our country is jobless? Despite this fact, I still feel this song is an instant classic due to the fact that most people, at some point, hate their job. I love my profession, but at times, the people in power make it very difficult to enjoy what I do. On days filled with frustration at work, there is no better tune to help release the stress on your commute home.
18. Yeah Yeah Yeahs
There are many facets to Karen O. She can be bratty, loud, sexy, and even at times, psychotic. She is at her best though when she lets down her guard, exposing her vulnerability. “Skeletons” may not be the most upbeat song on “It’s Blitz”, nor is it the catchiest track, but in my humble opinion, it is the album’s high-point. Karen is no longer hiding behind a drum machine or slashing synth riff. Her heart is exposed for all to see, hidden only by the uncoiling back-bone of orchestra and clicking drum sticks, always on the verge of breaking yet somehow staying steady throughout.
17. Future of the Left
Fuck Rick. Who ever he is, he must be quite the douche to get such an angry tirade from Future of the Left’s Andy Falkous. We’ve heard Falco get pissed about many things with his influential band Mclusky, but never have I heard him pinpoint one mother fucker this directly. Sure, the title suggests the song has deeper meaning, but I like to believe that the song is primarily about that shit-dick Rick.
Speaking of Mclusky,Dananananaykroyd has obviously listened to “Do Dallas” a few times. Although they do a nice job of trying to fill the classic band’s void, their best song is actually a simple pop song that doesn’t follow the Mclusky formula. “Black Wax” shows the band being able to level out their cheeky behavior with just a dash of charm. Cheers to melodies!
15. Eat Skull
“Stick to the Formula”
While on the subject of formulas (damn, I’m getting good at this whole transition thing), Eat Skull want you to “do to the formula!”. Somehow, with all the clang and clamor they create, Eat Skull found a plum of a chorus. Unlike geometry formulas, the chorus of this song will stick in your head for infinity. If I were a math teacher I would use this song in my class daily. Unfortunately, we don’t do formulas in English (I do teach transitions though!).
14. Built to Spill
“Good Ol’ Boredom”
It’s kind of ironic that the best song on Built to Spill’s ho-hum 2009 release “There is No Enemy” is a song with the word “boredom” in the title. There is too much going on in this song to make it boring. The guitars are piled on top of each other cautiously like a seven layer dip, each part adding its own zest to the final product. There is one guitar line that stands out above all the rest, swooping and momentous like a 21st Century “Free Bird”.
13. BLK JKS
This song is a lot like “Weekend at Bernie’s” (in a good way). It opens up sounding dreadful, with spooky harmonizing and a menacing guitar line (there is nothing spookier than dragging a dead guy around a beach). Then of course, the band breaks into the chorus, an upbeat, African-ska-energy infused celebration that would even get life-less Bernie to join in on a conga line.
12. Volcano Choir
“Unmap” is a strange album. It is made up of “songs” where awkward instruments squawk clumsily, never really taking shape. It is definitely miles away from the melodic folk music we’ve grown accustomed to with Justin Vernon. “Island, IS” plays as the saviour to the album. It’s almost as if Vernon wanted to throw us off with one master work that delves into environs he’s never visited, to remind us there is still more to come from Bon Iver (plus, any song that mentions “the old tits on your hard drive” is a winner in my book).
“Needle in the Hay”
Who would have thought an Elliot Smith song could be made more depressing? Nadja does just that, injecting the once intimate song with an eery dose of ambient-doom. The voice is buried beneath the bedlam, a ghostly whisper of “needle in the hay” that will send chills up your spine if you ever grew to know Elliot personally through his music.
10. Mountain Goats
What happened to the Mountain Goats of old? They were lo-fi before lo-fi was cool. Using his trusty four-track recorder, John Darnielle used to write hilarious songs with titles like “The Best Ever Death Metal Band in Denton” and “I Love You. Let’s Light Ourselves on Fire”. A lot has changed. In 2009, the Mountain Goats released “The Life of the World to Come”, a highly polished album of 12 songs about 12 verses from the bible. I may be mistaken, but I don’t remember the bible having any punch lines (unless you count the burning bush). Fortunately, Merge Records released “Score! 20 Years of Merge Records”, a compilation of indie artists covering classic songs by Merge bands from the past. Darnielle is matched up with “Drug Life” by East River Pipe (a band I definitely need to check out after hearing this song and the Okkervil River cover of “All You Little Suckers”). It ended up being a perfect match due to its hilarious lyrics, something Darnielle abandoned years ago. And just to make us nostalgic, Darnielle records it in his familiar lo-fi style. What a tease.
9. Neko Case
“People Got A Lotta Nerve”
You mean to tell me Neko Case wrote a song with the chorus “I’m a man-eater” and it’s better than Hall & Oates classic? I’ll leave that up for to debate, but her “man-eater” is a killer whale while Hall & Oates are afraid of some chick. What pussies.
8. Passion Pit
Can you believe this band is on Frenchkiss Records, home of Les Savy Fav, Plastic Constellations, and the Fatal Flying Guilloteens? It seems like a strange fit, but I can’t blame label head Syd Butler for signing them. Their songs are scrumptious treats, frosted in sugary synths and Michael Angelako’s sacchariferous falsetto. Of all their tasty tunes, “Moth’s Wings” would be the cheese cake, with its complex, creamy textures and its rich, fulfilling melody.
Industrial music died with the 90s, right? Not according to HEALTH. On “Die Slow”, the band explores new territories in the genre, combining metalic synths with BJ Miller’s insane drumming and the hellacious scream of guitars, all of which seems to be traveling through some type of black-hole-vortex. Taking a nod from Nine Inch Nail’s underrated “The Fragile”, the band sees how live and digital instruments can live together in perfect harmony (or in this case, perfect dissonance).
6. Mos Def
While most rappers gave up on sampling years ago, Mos Def realizes there is still some magic hidden on the shelves of the local record store. On “Supermagic”, Mos Def pulled an LP out the Turkish Folk section, sampling “Ince Ince”, a song by the 1970s protest singer Selda. To make an already tight song tighter, he rewords Mary Poppin’s classic “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious” with his cooler, darker version “Super magic black origin freshly out of dopeness”. Selda meets Mary Poppins? Now that would be one magic woman.
5. Cymbals Eat Guitars
“And the Hazy Sea”
Cymbals Eat Guitars set their listeners up for a major disappointment by putting “And the Hazy Sea” at the start of their 2009 release “Why There Are Mountains”. Nothing can stand up to the climatic nature of this song, yet you listen to the remainder of the album hoping those feelings will return. Like a 12 hour sex romp with Sting, “And the Hazy Sea” jams orgasm after orgasm into six minutes, leaving you sweaty and incapacitated.
4. Matt and Kim
Matt and Kim are “the little band that could”. I’ve been enjoying their music for a couple years now, thinking of them as my little pop-secret. Never did I expect to hear their boisterous ditty “Daylight” on TV shows (“Community”), advertisements (an ad for “Bacardi”), and video games (“NBA Live 2010, FIFA 2010”, and “Sims 3”). “Daylight’s” success proves that with a great melody, any band can break through that glass ceiling (although, I suspect that Matt blackmailed EA Games at some point in the past year).
3. Animal Collective
There is something childlike to “Girls”, yet the lyrics speak of what it means to grow up and be a father. Commonly, the music of artists begins to wane with age and the added stress of wife, kids, etc. As usual, Animal Collective break the mold, managing to sound better than ever, even making parenthood sound fun…sleep loss, screaming babies, and poopy diapers –fun? Why must you fuck with my head A.C.?
2. The Very Best
“Warm Heart of Africa (featuring Ezra Koenig”
Last year The Very Best took Vampire Weekend’s song “Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa” and put the Columbia alums back in their place, bringing authenticity to the African inspired song. In 2009, Ezra Koenig of Vampire Weekend decided to join forces with his tormentors to lend his vocals to “Warm Heart of Africa”. With their powers combined – The Very Best’s African beats and Ezra’s s tender voice -these musical Avengers berate you until you are up on your feet dancing and singing along to African words that you don’t understand.
“Love Like a Sunset Part I and II”
Phoenix is a simple pop band that creates great hooks, right? Yes, and no. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, let me present to you evidence: “Love is a Sunset pt. I & II”, a sprawling, atmospheric journey of astronomical proportions. Like a ride through “It’s a Small World After All”, the song takes you through all of the regions music can provide your brain – it baffles and broadens, it pacifies and presses, it’s simple yet cinematic, it penetrates and motivates- simply put, this song will change your life, if you can only lend it a moment of your time.