Well folks, please forgive the less than thoughtful musing this week. Still digging out from the holidays! Plus, it's my birthday on Friday (shameless self-promotion). And then it's off to DC for the inauguration! In the meantime, this is perhaps the funniest thing I've watched in the long time, oh my GAWD: [...]

A Triple-A radio programming veteran, Kate has served as Music Director of the Loft at XM, Midday Host at WYEP, Evening Host at both WNCS and WUIN, as well as Content Supervisor for Pump Audio. Currently, she's the CEO of Outlandos Music, a new-music discovery service for grown-ups. Kate has been nationally recognized for her ardent presentation of music and her ability to champion talented, compelling artists.

Guest post this week from a new fave, singer-songwriter Denison Witmer (his 2008 CD Carry the Weight made the Cut through the Noise Top 10). Astounding [...]

A Triple-A radio programming veteran, Kate has served as Music Director of the Loft at XM, Midday Host at WYEP, Evening Host at both WNCS and WUIN, as well as Content Supervisor for Pump Audio. Currently, she's the CEO of Outlandos Music, a new-music discovery service for grown-ups. Kate has been nationally recognized for her ardent presentati on of music and her ability to champion talented, compelling artists.

Episode Fünf

FUCKED UP

You know what's fucked up? The fact that this band plays almost exclusively to the hardcore scene. I understand why, having witnessed frontman Father Damian heartily and heavily take on a crowd of mauling Berlin punks. However, the guitars behind the man in front anchor the madness in a beautiful—gorgeous, even—wash of sound and glory that makes this just really really good music. Listening to their records at home, I could well imagine Fucked Up being backed up by a philharmonic some time in the future.

The band originates out of Toronto, Canada, and has, over the past 8 years, built an unassailable legacy out of ferocious live shows, incessant touring, informed, articulate interviews, an impeccable singles output, and two brilliant full lengths, the latter of which, The Chemistry of Common Life, is on Matador Records.

For more information, see lookingforgold.blogspot.com or www.matadorrecords.com.

"Dude, have you been to Berlin yet?!" covers the music, art and fashion scenes in Berlin, as witnessed by Jenna Young, recent transplant from New York City and guitar player in the rock band Ghetto Ways.

Chuck Eddy dusts off his old vinyl and scratches his head. We all win.

Greetings, BLURT readers. This column's theme is fairly simple: Basically, I sort alphabetic ally through my shelves for dusty old 7-inch vinyl indie singles from acts that aren't household names, and try to figure out why I wound up keeping them in the first place. This is the 10^th installment (first two appeared at Idolator.)

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THE LIDS - "No Fool For You"/"Too Late"/"Nothing To Do" (Die Slaughterhaus, 2003)

Garage-punk brats from...somewhere (there's basically no information about them in the Internets), seemingly singing into a toy microphone and hoping to be picked up by the hand-held tape recorder down the hall. Fast, primal slop for hip young caveboys and cavegirls. One chord and one sentence per song, if that. Guy tells us he's no fool for us; girl chimes in randomly in the background, seemingly responding boy's monosyllabic ramblings but lagging behind the beat. "Too late too late too late." "Oh yeah oh yeah oh yeah." Oddly, or maybe not (how easy or difficult would this be?), all three songs are hooky anyway. "All I want is something to do," he sings bored through the blur; then...a time change, which sends the music careening toward some semblance of climax. Which makes "Nothing To Do" the Lids' epic, almost.

(www.grunnenrocks.nl/bands/l/lidsthe.htm)

LOVE AS LAUGHTER -"Hall and Oates Have Disappeared"/ "Looks Like This City's Broken" (SubPop, 2000)

The Stones to Pavement's Beatles? Whatever that means. Anyway, they're from Brooklyn, and "Hall and Oates Have Disappeared" - which, as far as I can tell, has absolutely nothing to do with the Philly blue-eyed-soul duo in question - does have a certain lower-minor-league Exile On Main Street muffle to its shuffle. Doesn't really rock; not much drummer push, but it's got a little roll to it - and in 2000, and maybe even still now, a little roll was at least a step in the right direction for notoriously scared-to-dance indie rock. High-registered stuff about finding a parking spot in the parking lot, then the music switches into a sort of vamp, even almost a hint of disco throb at one point (did they think that was the Hall and Oates part?), with whimsical noises gurgling out of it. Just sort of meanders on and on, but it does quote "Space Oddity" by Bowie at one point. "Looks Like This City's Broken" has more of an apparent low-grade attempt at a boogie riff. Given the city's busted state, the singer suggests, we should just turn around and go back. But to where? (www.myspace.com/loveaslaughter)

MATMOS - "On And On"/DIE MONITR BATSS - "Black Out Cross" (Ache, 2004)

Baltimore-via Frisco duo Matmos work plinks and urps into some robotic semblance of extended funk-like repetition; drum-like objects of some sort double the rhythm, and then a bassline enters -- almost phat, in its own geeky way, though presumably unrecognizable to Curtis Mayfield or Gladys Knight fans who know the original song supposedly being covered. Thing is, when the melody picks up, you can actually hear remnants of a mournful "Freddie's Dead"-style soul melody for a couple minutes; the emotion really accumulates. And then it's back to space-age robot wars. Die Monitr Batss, meanwhile, manage a distant memory of boogie chug in their own post-punk way, with Contortions-or-Lora-Logic-style free-jazz sax splat fleshing out the field. "You can't see me/I can't see you" (or "can," maybe - hard to tell.) "I'm not gonna watch you do it" - so they're not voyeurs. They have more instrumental than vocal energy, though - Die Monotone Batss, they should be called. "Ho Wave," the Portlanders (somehow tangentially related to theoretically dancefloor-unscared indie band the Gossip) call themselves on their Myspace page; har har. Climaxes in yer usual Wagenerian post-Sonic Youth drone-clank. But first, extroverted instrumental parts lead to a nervous breakdown, suggesting an old woman falling out of a wheelchair during a magic show.

(www.myspace.com/matmos1)

MEANEST MAN CONTEST - "Contaminated Dance Step"/ "Feelin' Pretty Psyched (About Love)" (Weapon-Shaped, 2002)

Another San Fran duo; this one via L.A., and rapping. Or at least talking, or reciting poetry, or whatever you call it, with a matter-of-fact diction, about logos and crescendos and managerial positions, words coming at you way too fast for note-taking unless you remember way more shorthand than I do. Not much attempt to use the voice as rhythm or maintain a groove - and the background music sounds more like a movie soundtrack than dance steps, contaminated or otherwise -- but they sure pack in a lot of syllables. Eventually the A-side song turns into some subliminally familiar spiel about how "hyphenated Americans mean divided Americans." An opinion that goes back at least to Teddy Roosevelt, and which may well make Meanest Man Contest unreliable narrators. Then there's another spoken word sample: an intro to Louis Armstrong playing trumpet. Then on the flipside, another long collage suite, returning to what I assume to be the Mean Men's own voices, talking about a male professor who "wasn't fired, he was let go." More changes of direction, more monotonous verbosity, different voices out of each speaker: "It was hidden in the cardboard and the cobwebs, it is not dead." "The stories suffer from deadline pressure." One guy starts almost actually rapping, sounding legitimately underground (rather than under-underground), rhyming about rising like a phoenix something material venereal MCs get murdered in cereal. Pretty sure he's joking. "Aren't we bitter little people, we ought to be unable to say anything except sardonically." Or something like that. He may not be joking there, but then I may not be following him.

(www.myspace.com/meanestmancontest)

DAN MELCHIOR - "Instant Love"/"That's No Way To Get Along" (Smartguy, 2000)

Fuzzed-up megaphone grumbling over blues chords; arty by virtue of production (or lack thereof) not structure. At times he just beats his guitar, the only instrument here I think. One of those eternal eccentrics, hunting for something to kill the pain. From London; now apparently in North Carolina. Yet despite its surface weirdness, "Instant Love" sounds too average. Needs more of a hook, or something, to justify its normality. "That's No Way To Get Along" opens with Delta picking, and is marginally more interesting by virtue of sounding more antiquated. "I'm goin' home/Don't tell my mom." Why not? Would she move before you show up? An old song, I assume. Those lowdown women treat a person wrong, and there's no way to get along. Keeps returning to the same place -- circular like a roundelay, or round like a circle.

(www.myspace.com/dasmenace)

Chuck Eddy is the former music editor of the Village Voice and the author of several books, including the greatest book on heavy metal ever written, Stairway To Hell. He won't admit it, but he knows more about rock ‘n' roll than the entire accumulated BLURT brain trust.

By Martin Bisi

When telling a story about a time in history, what does the teller owe society? Can a small truth about a time in history, contradict the larger, socially progressive, educated truth? What if the story teller wades into the small-scale, inter-personal stories that are the back drop to any moment in time? Can there be a conflict? controversy ? Yes.

Gone With The Wind, the 1939 mega-blockbuster Hollywood movie, romanticized the old South and glossed over the great injustices of that era. One subject of controversy, was the image of a slave crying in sympathy for her masters. The view of history Gone With The Wind projected, is not the one we want to teach our children, or put forth as a society, especially in 1939.

But that does raise a difficult question. With the millions of slaves in the old South, is it not a certainty that some slaves cried for their masters? It's the tip of a small iceberg. There were likely love affairs, elopements--many kinds of relationships under the radar, that an artist may want to elaborate on.

But what if the artist lived in that era?

Phillis Wheatley was a slave, and poet, living in Boston in the colonial era. She was first published in the 1760's, at the age of 14. Her masters placed a high premium on education in their home, and having recognized Wheatley's talent in writing early on, they introduced her to the literary elite of Boston, and helped advance her career. Wheatley barely mentioned slavery, or race in her poems, even after she was freed later in life. And there was a positive tone in her writings, in regards to Boston and the colonies in general. She was later sharply criticized within the civil rights movement of the 1960's, for presenting a flattering picture of her world.

General opinion on Wheatley has been more forgiving in the last few decades. It reminds me of how some scenes in Schindler's List ('93) may have been unacceptable 60 years ago - particularly the one where Schindler, still wearing his lapel-pin swastika, even after the fall of the 3rd Reich, suddenly grasps it and collapses in tears, not because of what the symbol may have meant to him, but because he realizes he could have saved one more life, had he sold it. We can accept now that there was a gray area there, and it's valuable to depict it.

How interesting that in the present, we can accept that most artists are like Phillis Wheatley. Most current artists don't include the wars and injustices of our time, in their creative expression. And most of us know that a lot happens between the bad headlines, that needs to be expressed. But when the battle is on, for defining an era in history, art is expected to serve the writing of history. History needs to be taught in blacks and whites. One group invaded the other --period--not, some people fell in love, a barbarian hugged a child, things were nice temporarlily in a certain week, and, a woman eyed her reflection in a store window. Why am I suddenly giggling (stop that)?

Martin Bisi is an American producer and songwriter. Visit him at www.myspace.com/theendcredits.

Before we get to the list, a little self-indulgent get-to-know-me holiday montage.... Full disclosure, last year I actually set my parents house on fire Christmas Eve. No one was injured. The Harrington's ham was saved. We had to do a lot of cleaning though... damn, oven smoke is insipid. This year, however, although we did set off some smoke alarms, it was all for a good cause [...]

A Triple-A radio programming veteran, Kate has served as Music Director of the Loft at XM, Midday Host at WYEP, Evening Host at both WNCS and WUIN, as well as Content Supervisor for Pump Audio. Currently, she's the CEO of Outlandos Music, a new-music discovery service for grown-ups. Kate has been nationally recognized for her ardent presentati on of music and her ability to champion talented, compelling artists.

How The Grinch Got Scrooged in Asheville

At some point in my life, the magic of Christmas vanished and was replaced by a cynical outlook that manifested itself most overtly through my use of the "Xmas" abbreviation.

Not even 30 years old, I was the kind of curmudgeonly, Scrooge-like grump who stole money from the Salvation Army bucket, cursed the little children gazing at the window displays, and, on one memorable occasion, actually brained a sidewalk Santa Claus with his own bronze bell because he was too damn jolly.

I especially loathed the way the U.S. economy depended upon millions of Americans spending their hard-earned cash on pointless gifts as the countdown of shopping days left until Christmas scrolled by in the month of December, all to the tune of another melody-less remake of an old holiday classic pimped to sell Old Navy sweaters. Christmas, in my mind, had been twisted into a sad advertisement for poor-quality garments made in China and faux sentimentality. Friends would drop by just to laugh as I railed against the blatant prostitution of the Christmas spirit. I was a soul tormented by the commercialism I perceived being foisted upon the American public.

A few days before Xmas, I would journey home to the place of my youth - Richmond, Virginia - and attempt to ignore the ebullient display of holiday cheer by my tradition-oriented mother. In fact, the only time I was smart enough to keep my big, fat mouth shut was in the presence of my friends' young children. I could see in their eyes that this holiday was still magical and perhaps even holy, despite the mountains of poorly rendered plastic toys over which they claimed dominion.

Nonetheless, something wonderful would happen every Xmas Eve once everyone had nestled into their homes all cozy and warm: quietude. Blissful, sweet silence pervaded my soul, and it was in this silence, as the street sounds faded and the night descended, that I discovered the real joy that is Christmas: a time of reflection and appreciation of family and friends, sharing old memories and making new ones.

Eight years ago, my entire perspective on Xmas changed. In August 2000, my close friend Allen Woody, bassist for Gov't Mule, suddenly passed away. Woody had a great sense of humor and was truly a caring person and a good friend. His death tormented me at a time in my life when I really didn't need any reminders of mortality, and I know I needn't mention how this affected the people that loved and worked with Woody.

Shortly after Woody's passing, Warren Haynes called me and asked if I would participate in a tribute to Woody at the Roseland Ballroom in New York City. Nervously, I accepted the invitation and soon found myself whisked away to a night of good friends and great music. My performance of Woody's bass lines that night, while not perfect, seemed to provide some solace for those in attendance. I had so much fun that I offered to fill in for Woody anytime the Mule needed me. While everyone in the Mule camp was awash with grief and not sure of what the future might hold, Warren graciously thanked me for my offer.

As Thanksgiving approached and the holiday commercials began to flood the airwaves, the call came again: Warren wanted me to come to Asheville, North Carolina to play with the Mule for his annual "Xmas Jam" to benefit the local chapter of Habitat For Humanity. I agreed, thinking it would be a fun time and also help to break up my drive from Athens to my parents' home in Richmond.

Xmas Jam 2000 turned out to be a great time, the biggest in the event's history up until that point as the show had moved from the small clubs of Asheville to the Thomas Wolfe Auditorium. The Allman Brothers Band performed that night as well as the reunited Aquarium Rescue Unit (featuring Col. Bruce Hampton, no less). I took the stage with Gov't Mule, and we played a few more songs than we had at the One for Woody benefit earlier that fall. The Christmas spirit seemed to flow all around us, and much to my surprise, I discovered that the old Scrooge mood in me had lifted. In fact, I felt downright Christmas-y. I don't know if it was something in the eggnog backstage, but I found myself imbued with the spirit of giving and it painted a magical glow on everything around me. There was something truly wonderful about coming together with friends both onstage and off to change the lives of some folks that really needed some help. It seemed like a no-brainer: play some music, catch up with some friends, and help build a house.

Over the seven years or so I've played the Xmas Jam, I've had the great fortune to play with Gregg Allman, Bob Weir, Marty Stuart, Jorma Kaukonen, Bruce Hampton, Stockholm Syndrome and a host of others. And believe me, it has NEVER been work regardless of the amount of rehearsal time required for the gig. Beyond the musicians, it takes a whole lot of work to put this celebration on year after year. Despite the long hours and toil required of those who make this event happen, you will see nothing but smiles on their faces, and it's because they're getting something intangible in return for their labor. I believe it's the true spirit of giving.

Friends of Bill W. have a saying, "You keep what you have only by giving it away." I can personally amend that to say, "You can regain what you have lost only by giving it away."

Playing Xmas Jam gave Christmas back to me. Ask anyone who has seen me in Asheville at the Xmas Jam and they'll tell you that I always say, "My Christmas begins HERE." It feels great to do something positive for so many by doing something that I love so much. I can only imagine how Warren and his wife and manager Stefani Scamardo must feel.

I've seen the mayor of Asheville present Warren and Stefani with the key to the city more times than I can imagine. They must have a special shelf in their place just for those things! The city elders need to go ahead and just build a statue of Warren somewhere in Asheville. Just make sure it's made out of solid milk chocolate. Warren would like that.

Happy Holidays!

DAS

Artwork by Marq Spusta (www.marqspusta.com)

2 feet of fluffy snow here in upstate New York this week and we are freezing our bums off. But I don't think that's what this week's guest post-er, Greg MacAteer, means. To take a page from Lefsetz, what would Christmas be without a holiday rant? Not to worry, Greg's a softy in the end: [...]

A Triple-A radio programming veteran, Kate has served as Music Director of the Loft at XM, Midday Host at WYEP, Evening Host at both WNCS and WUIN, as well as Content Supervisor for Pump Audio. Currently, she's the CEO of Outlandos Music, a new-music discovery service for grown-ups. Kate has been nationally recognized for her ardent presentati on of music and her ability to champion talented, compelling artists.

This list shouldn't surprise you much, for those of you who've been keeping up. In no particular order (isn't that annoying), my favorite 10 albums of 2008. The main criteria being how long they spent in the car. Scientific. One quick diversion though, here's what I did Monday morning on the road in North Hampton (that's me filming) [...]

A Triple-A radio programming veteran, Kate has served as Music Director of the Loft at XM, Midday Host at WYEP, Evening Host at both WNCS and WUIN, as well as Content Supervisor for Pump Audio. Currently, she's the CEO of Outlandos Music, a new-music discovery service for grown-ups. Kate has been nationally recognized for her ardent presentati on of music and her ability to champion talented, compelling artists.

Naturally, it's been mostly Christmas music this time of year. Unavoidable. Although I used to try. Now, I'm more of the "can't beat 'em, join 'em" type. All-in. In very much a Griswold kind of way [...]

A Triple-A radio programming veteran, Kate has served as Music Director of the Loft at XM, Midday Host at WYEP, Evening Host at both WNCS and WUIN, as well as Content Supervisor for Pump Audio. Currently, she's the CEO of Outlandos Music, a new-music discovery service for grown-ups. Kate has been nationally recognized for her ardent presentati on of music and her ability to champion talented, compelling artists.