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Tuesday, April 27, 2004
When it rains, it pours...
Seriously, what gives with this retarded spring weather?! I've been on this planet long enough to know that this time of the year equates to the weather being a total mess. Yet every year, I put on this front where I can't fathom that in a period of 5 days it'll rain, snow, fire up to a balmy +23 degrees, and then rain and snow at the same time.
Tonight, as it poured, I interviewed Wil for Cord Magazine. Although it may not seem that much of a feat to interview a local musician, you have to realize, Wil isn't really local anymore, he's a legit musician, singed to a very big record label, spending all of his time touring across North America. Hell, just to officially set up the interview, we had to jump through a series of flaming hoops.
The interview went wonderful. I don't say that in some silly gushing fan-boy, sort of way. I say that in the most human of ways. Instead of me playing the role of interviewer saying asinine things like "describe to me your sound", and instead of Wil playing the role of interviewee responding with asinine sound bites like "I'd like to think my sound transcends the generations". We sat on a table, drank V8, and had real conversation about all things real life and rock and roll. For half an hour.
Wil told me that the days of playing 4 hour bar shows were over, and that he was getting his shit together, so he could woo new audiences, so he could grow. I told him I was worried because his loosey-goosey faster than the speed of light improv performance was the king-shit of showmanship, and shouldn't be restrained. He told me not to fear, and just realize that everything was still improvised, but now more focused, and less self indulgent.
Then - out of the blue - we talked about Ryan Adams. Ryan *fucking* Adams... I swear, it was his idea, not mine. Wil told me his next CD is going to have the approach and feel of Ryan Adams' Demolition CD. A CD which was an eclectic collection of B-sides. I figured the only two people who "got" this CD were me, and Ryan Adams. Apparently, Wil gets it too. He referenced the track Cry On Demand [mp3]. We both geeked out about the production and how it was balanced just right, any more or less tweaking and this track would have been the whiniest jam in all the land. But instead it speaks volumes, 'cause it was constructed just right.
The thing that stuck in my head the most was that Wil said he was compelled to get his life together because he worried that he'd literally perform Better Man for the rest of his life. This got me, because at times, I worry that I'll figuratively perform Better man for the rest of my life.
After this was all said and done, I got to watch the grown up version of Wil perform. Not at some loud shitty bar with tin acoustics and jagermiester on the floor, but at a "centre for performing arts", with rich, lush, clear sound bouncing across the elongated 185,000-pound laminated sprucewood acoustical canopy and walls. Wil wasn't kidding, his show was charming, refined, to the point (and all I could stealth was one shitty picture, shown above). A single spot light beamed down on him from 50 feet above. Each audience member in the crowd of 1,500 people breathlessly kept each eye on his performance. It's one of those things where you hang on for a second wishing that this talent could stay local and go on for hours at your disposal and call. But then you realize that it's the most gratifying thing to see a local boy, think big, act big, and then move on.
elsewhere
Saturday - Wil plays a bar show in Canmore? | Wil back in the day
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Monday, April 26, 2004
As requested...
Ok, you wonderful jerks, as requested / demanded I've created a gallery of pics from the insanity which was Jt's Hawaiian themed birthday pub crawl. Here are a few things I've learned since Saturday's 30 person event:
- We are a bunch of princesses. I was submitted over 300 photos. 300! That's equates to roughly 50 pictures an hour. Keep in mind there are only 60 minutes in an hour. I posted about 100 of them, I also took a picture of myself posting the pictures. That has been posted too.
- Of the entire group, Carpet seems to be the most photographed. I can't figure out why. Maybe this kinda stuff have something to do with it.
- Pub crawls make me feel like I'm in second year university again. It's a good thing, because it's a carefree indestructible kinda feeling. It's a bad thing, because I'm talking like an old man, implying that second year university was that long ago.
- This site is like a child to me. It seems to require constant care and feeding. A simple update is always a major production. I want to learn how to blog using mind control, while eating a bowl of raisin bran.
- I'm not kidding, Cord Magazine is taking off like nobody's business. Seriously, it's not funny. I have lots of work to do, and all you have to do is sit back and read / listen to streaming audio / win free stuff. Go check it out now.
- Pub crawl pictures are here. I love you. Enjoy.
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Thursday, April 22, 2004
Holy crap - Cord is now online!
6 months ago, me and Master Andy started discussing the idea of creating an online music magazine. No, not some silly little fanzine type thing, hosted on some free web host - but rather a real media outlet, driven by the market, based on a real and actionable business plan, poised to grow like a weed.
I realized that a magazine might be a smart outlet for all my charming obsessive music ranting and analytics, and even more so, an outlet for the business side of my brain. Likewise, Andy realized her commercial design and live photography portfolio could further develop, she could also venture out from behind the camera and expand into other realms, like writing, and putting up with my shit. So, we kicked the "music mag" the idea back and fourth, eventually writing a business plan. Using a combination of personal favors, a business plan, and our dashing good looks we rustled up a staff of writers and advisors - we were now working directly with artists, venues, promoters, and labels, pumping out a shitload of content, connecting the dots, and creating this online magazine thingamajig.
Cord Magazine is now online, and ready for your mass consumption and click-thru. We think we've made a pretty solid product for you to cuddle up to. Our first issue features interviews and commentary with bands like Yeah Yeah Yeahs, The Vines, Iron & Wine, Ted Leo & The Pharmacists, Blonde Redhead, Powderfinger, Wil, Travis, Liz Phair, Matty Mays, Muse, Broken Social Scene... just to name a few.
And that's only about one third of the first issue.
Hell, even if you don't like reading articles, we're streaming tunes for you, giving away prize packs (read: free shit) from Maple Music... Oh... and we have a blog too... 'cause if there's one thing the world needs right now... it's another blog.
Anyways... less talk, more action. Be a dear, and check out www.cordmag.com play around with it, read lots of it, learn something new. And when you're done contact me, and let me know what you think. Let's not kid ourselves, Cord Mag is a work in process, and has long way to go until we find our look, feel, and voice. So tell us what's good... what's bad... what things you'd like to see featured... whatever, just give us feedback, and we'll develop such a strong product that you'll love it... with every part of your body.
No really, you will. That's how hard we're willing to work.
And... finally, spread the word. Tell a friend. If you have a blog / website, throw a link up in your next post. If you don't have a blog, but one of your homeboys does, get him to link us. Let me know that you've helped spread the word, and I'll link your ass right back.
Anyways: Cord Magazine [Go!]
elsewhere
cord | cord magazine | mag de la cord | gout facts
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Tuesday, April 20, 2004
So as the seconds tick down until the launch of Cord, I'm trying to find someway to manage / archive all of the interview footage we record week after week... and after scratching my head, and staring at the wall, and listening to old shabba ranks records, I pulled a MacGuyver and rigamarolled a soundboard set up from my dictaphone right into my pc. Wooo! Go science, etc! It wasn't pretty, I had to dig up a buunch of my old DJ'ing equipment, from back in the days when Ace Of Bass ruled supreme. Yeah... I saw the sign.
The point of all this being, I figured I'd post a short Cord interview clip I encoded to mp3. This won't be a regular thing around here, but what the hell. The interview clip features George Stroumboulopoulos of Muchmusic fame (pictured above) being interviewed by Wendy of vanmega fame (not pictured above, but pictured here with George).
The interview is less than 5 minutes long. I basically forced a list of questions on Wendy to ask him... I have a feeling she didn't want to do it, but she did, and she pulled it off wonderfully, and for that I'm gonna shower her with gifts. I'm beyond impressed at how she put it together... I love the way she's chatting on about bands and artists that she's got no interest in at all. This is the equivalent of me being sent out to ask garth brooks questions about the dixie chicks. I don't think I could think on my feet like that, nor could I pull off the country and western Stetson hat look. Anyhoo...
Download: Wendy vs George [mp3]
elsewhere
the new music | classic rock trivia | whatevs.org
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Monday, April 19, 2004
An idle April weekend in Kitsilano...
If there's one thing I'm certian of, it's that I know for a fact, that the readers of vanemga love run-on sentences. Love them! Lord help me if I were to withhold the love around here. So without further ado, here's a series of massive run-on sentences about all about the weekend that finished yesterday, but I can still feel today...
Perhaps the greatest thing about returning to vancouver is the fact that no one actually goes out of their way to make special plans for me. Don't get me wrong, everyone treats me like gold... they also treat me like a local, they know that I don't need to see the sights, I don't need a buffer between the city and damned myself. I'm a local... just without a fixed address (for now). I know the scene I know the score, and that's why I can show up and pick up where I left off, every time.
This weekend saw team vancouver doing a whole lot of nothing. And it ruled. Highlights included: running-a-muck, making a dinner for two out of a jar of olives & bree cheese & 63 fresh limes, not really leaving kits, trying to walk home from nicks place with tk, putting in a serious shift at Caffe Barney - drinking 1 of each drink on the menu (ceazer = good, long island iced tea = bad, pimms = lovely, whiskey sour = the official new drink of summer), napping/spooning, cranking tunes by Postal Service, staring at the mountains and water, crank-calling Johnny P until he put down his grad school text books and came out for a drink or 3, slinging back Heinekens with Master Andy at some scenster bar, sushi, guitar, restarting the family dinner concept, having conversations with smiling dinosaurs, napping/spooning, riding shotgun in a green Toyota while rapping along to 14 year old Heavy D and The Boyz tunes, realizing Nick has turned into a metrosexual.
Pics: Photos from the weekend are here.
elsewhere
pixies in saskatoon | speed to kill | girl nobody
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Thursday, April 15, 2004
Dear Coffee,
You... like... totally fuckin suck. What up?!
Love,
Me
---
I don't know what happened in the last few weeks, but seems I crossed the line where a cup of coffee has gone from satisfying ritual to a thoroughly toxic and painful way of trying to stay awake during the daylight hours.
Instead of taking my time sipping on a warm cuppa whilst reflecting on my innermost thoughts (boobs, beer), I'm now chugging back cups of coffee with the wreckless abandon of a frat boy at a $5 kegger. Usually consuming 2 cups in the morning, chased by a cola in the afternoon (I'll admit cola is gross). The coffee wrecks me, I get twisting acidic stomach pains, I get all twitchy like a white kid with dreadlocks at a rave - and worst of all I actually feel more sleepy after the fact. Actually, I think the caffeine kicks in about 12 - 18 hours later, when I'm finally trying to go to bed. Chris Isaak wasn't kidding, it's a wicked game.
The worst part is that I'm turned off coffee even on the weekends when I'm actually well rested, and usually hungover. Everyone knows the best part about hangovers is the coffee... and maybe greasy breakfasts. But I digress...
If anyone happens to have a decent / legal way of staying awake during the workday which doesn't wreck your nervous and digestive system please fill me in. Anyone who sends an asinine note saying something along the lines of "hey, moron, just trying going to sleep at a decent hour" will be forced to listen to this horrific mp3 on repeat forever and ever. And ever.
elsewhere
Cord Magazine launch has been delayed until next week
Modest Mouse | The women of The Apprentice | Happy Birthday Jayne
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Sunday, April 11, 2004
Smoke, baby...
Despite my new found hobby of taking sleeping pill induced 14 hour naps, I know that if I stay up late to post on vanmega, I'll end up feeling like poop 3 dollars in the morning. So I'll type fast, and resist the urge to stop to check for clarity or spelling errors. I am such a freestyle typer-writer guy.
This weekend, which some how started on Wednesday night, was wonderfully insane and pleasing. I spent all weekend either rocking out at shows, or drinking white wine, or drinking white wine while checking out shows. Yeah, the whole white wine thing might sound a bit girlie, but fuck it... spring is here, and I'm gonna start acting like it's summer... someone get my white linen pants out of retirement.
Now that my ears are ringing from all the shows, I'm instinctively playing lots of mellow and quiet music this week. There are 2 such mellow gold CD's you must check out. Trust me, if you do, you'll be one of the first on your block to do so, and in turn, you'll be cooler than Fab from Milli Vanilli. The CD's are:
Iron And Wine - Our Endless Numbered Days
This might be prettiest sounding CD released all year. It's very quiet and gentle, and recorded with such softness and balance that you can actually hear the guitar pics hitting guitar strings. This is a really hard thing to do. Plus, Sam Beam, the guy behind the band, sings these lush harmonies with himself, that many people say sound like early Simon and Garfunkel. I say the harmonies sound like the Bee Gees. The fucking Bee Gees!! Can I get a "Hell Yeah"?!?
Damien Rice - O
So what if PitchFork nailed this guy to the cross... I think the disk is brilliant. Damien Rice is a young lad from Ireland and does the singer / song writer thing. Don't think of the Abercrombie and Fitch stylings of John Mayer or Howie "I felt violated" Day. Don't think of the over-mature musings of David Gray. Just take this CD on it's own unique merits. It's a pleasure to to let spin on your stereo.
Iron and Wine, Damien Rice, and bunch of other super-lovely bands appear on the freshly posted mixtape 19. Go get it.
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Thursday, April 08, 2004
The overnight to London...
Emily Haines and the boys of Metric were nothing short of glorious tonight. They are soooooo 2004, and perhaps bordering on brilliant... so brilliant even Dave shook his bon-bon, as it were.
Actually, Dave was cooler than me tonight. Such a hipster... I blame the rice-rocket, which he just purchased at the 5 and dime Honda Dealership
All the photos posted above were candids taken by Mr. Beeker, at the spur of the moment, in real time tonight.... using my (always wonderful) digi-cam. He took an additional 40 pictures, each of which were equally as cool, and each should be published.
Very hyperlink: Cord Magazine launches in 7 days.
Beeker, if you enjoyed your wednesday night... Just for... uhhh... funzies... I might have another gig that we might be able get you photo access to on Thursday night 7pm-ish (ie: in about 18 hours)... It'll be sooo worth your while... And I'll supply the photog gear... cell page me with a number / place I can reach you at... before 3pm Thursday!!!
Now! Please! Go! Doit. Doit. Doit.
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Tuesday, April 06, 2004
Regarding Kurt Cobain, shotguns…
Although everyone else on the internet seems to be, I’m not really in a position to post any personal reflections on the day of the 10 year anniversary of the death of Kurt Cobain.
When I found out Kurt Cobain killed himself, I laughed my ass off.
As I’ve mentioned before, growing up I loathed grunge music, the people who adored it, and especially what it stood for. I hated the sentiment, I hated the scene. Obviously, Nirvana and Kurt Cobain got sucked right into the centre of my dislike. Man… those guys were idiots, they meant nothing to me. Fuck ‘em.
Then why is it, why I look back in my life I have 3 distinct flashbulb memories?:
- The Challenger disaster
- The Berlin Wall falling
- Kurt Cobain’s death
I can remember vividly, 10 years ago today, sitting in my buddy’s basement, I can remember where I sat, the lighting of the room, what the other 5 people in room were wearing. I can remember reading the text headline about his suicide on channel 4, as I did a double take while spitting out a profane “what in the fuck?!” under my breath.
Then I laughed out loud.
Clearly, Kurt Cobain meant nothing to me, left no impression on me. Clearly, as an icon and a musician he didn’t captivate me. In the last 10 years, I must have subconsciously learned all the words and all of the chords to all of the songs he wrote, just for the sake of irony. I suppose the same applies to the knee-jerk response I get whenever a Nirvana tune pulses from a speaker instantly making me picture Dave, Krist, and Kurt rocking out together with a genuine intensity and drive that hasn’t been matched since (although every record label out there has tried to manufacture that intensity and bundle it with every rock band de jour since). This uncontrolable respect I have for the front man of a band, which I hated so much during thier prime, must be some sort of party trick gone wrong.
Or maybe it isn't.
Burn out? Fade away? Perhaps, neither will be case.
tony pierce wrote a phenominal post about Curt | eyes adrift
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Monday, April 05, 2004
I'll get right to the point of this post...
After countless hours of research and study, I've pin-pointed the epicenter of all that is wrong and evil in this world. No, it's not and issue within the realms of religious study, philosophy, or political science. Here it is:
Ashford & Simpson - Solid [mp3]
What in the hell were (Nickolas) Ashford and (Valerie) Simpson thinking in 1984?
Ashford: Hey, Val, baby... I'm gonna throw on my best powder white miami vice looking jacket, and tend to my massive and rat-like moustache. (*glances in mirror*) Daaaaaaaaaamn this look is hot... I think I'll keep it up for the next 20 years, incase I'm ever asked to make a guest judge appearance on American Idol.
Simpson: Solid! Let me just add a few more layers of shoulder padding to my black and white safari print jacket, and then we'll hit the studio and record a song that will stand the test of time.
I can only assume from there what went down was a musical game of chicken, where Ashford and Simpson took turns adding layers and layers of audio crap to the mix, trying to one-up each other, with the eventual product becoming the track "Solid". They probably stood 10 paces apart facing each other - wild wild west style, no less - with separate racks of synthesizers at their disposal.
Ashford: I'm gonna sing in as high of a falsetto humanly possible.
Simpson: I'm gonna turn my vocals up, and triple the echo.
Ashford: I'm gonna add tacky drum effects... lots of tom toms... all over the place.
Simpson: I'm gonna program my synthesizer to sound like a horn section, used to record Muzak, and I'm gonna keep throwing in key changes just to keep you guessing.
Ashford: Maybe the song needs some more digital drums??... there's gotta be some totally annoying fills I can haphardly toss in.
Simpson: Chorus time... I'm gonna keep saying "Hot-hot-hot-hot-hot-hot-hot-hot!" over and over
Ashford: Yeah? Well... me too... only I'll be even louder.
Simpson: Turn up my echo!
Seriously, someone please tell me that when they hear this song, they too feel shame for being a child of the 80's. This sing is so bad, that even puff daddy wouldn't sample it. Keep in mind he's sampled themes from tv shows before.
Don't even get me started about how horrific it is that this "timeless classic" has now migrated to the standard of playlist standard of wedding DJ's the world over. Yeah... when my russian mail order bride finally gets here, I want to celibrate our commitment to endless love with this sonic testiment to long term relationshiping.
The funny thing is that as I wrote up this post, I listened to the mp3 over and over... and I'm starting to remember some repressed childhood memory, which I think I associated with the song. Maybe there was some horrific "shoot the duck" incident at a rollercade I've kept locked away. Hmmmm... whatevs, I'm off to bed.
elsewhere
ninjas! | adam riff | the am pm
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