Riot Fest, September 15-17, 2017 at Douglas Park in Chicago

It had been a few years since Seth & I had done a Chicago trip for Lollapalooza so we started to get the itch. Lolla, like Coachella, had started to go more toward pop acts, which wasn’t even a bad thing, just that the line-ups didn’t generally give us much reason to consider the trouble to do it. Those fests weren’t even for us anymore (since everyone gets older), but it didn’t mean there wasn’t a fest somewhere that could catch our attention and get us to go. It was Riot Fest that did the trick, and just as well that it was in Chicago, which had already proven a town we could get in and out of and around easily like we had times before. This wasn’t necessarily a festival for the older set, or all punk acts like it once was, but it was definitely more in the area of rock bands, which the other, bigger fests had mostly already moved on from, but certainly was up our alley. And this one having Queens Of The Stone Age was already half-way there (being usually our requisite to show up), not to mention the rest of a stellar bill, that went far further than it needed to. So we had the idea (originally including Bart but he had to bail) and made plans (all done over text messages, I realized later, evolving our means of communication to not even need a spoken conversation), and we were in. Planning such a trip these days isn’t too much an effort, and Seth came through on a deal for the hotel, as usual. There didn’t need to be a hitch at all, especially getting around. We even had the added bonus of a cadre of L.A. people making the trip, from which I got a great warm-up act the night before the festival started, and before Seth flew in,  hitting bars and keeping up an ongoing conversation about past concerts with Tony Pony (a brand-new friend from my drinking club at home but we quickly realized our kindred spirits) and Lingo, the best concert pals you could have that you don’t have to actually go to the concert with, since we never did catch up to them while at the fest. But we met up after, along with others, and at least one solid night of drinking and cavorting in Chicago. It’s a great town. The thing turned out to be as good a festival, on the whole, as Lolla, just one tier down from half of the biggest acts, for the most part, slightly less packed with people (and kids), and a little closer to the ground. The line-ups after this year were just as good (though no more QOTSA for a while, as evidenced by our not being there), but we couldn’t make it happen again. Though Seth (who said a few Lollas ago that he was done with weekend music fests), floated the idea of getting together for a festival somewhere every two years, even the dream trip of one in England. But if we had to go out to any of them, it would be difficult to get better than this one.

It’s never a surprise that the first day of the fest is our earliest day in, to keep up with our excitement and before other mornings are dominated by hangovers. We didn't have any particular bands to see, but it was easy enough to get there -- as much as going to Lolla, all on the El, then walking through a neighborhood to get to the park -- and admission was the usual line which took the usual drag of time, but making it easier, as usual, by getting there early and being on a weekday. Also a good summer day to walk around drinking, with cheap beers that weren’t cheap in coozies (and no confinements to beer gardens, Seth’s festival poison), but also the crushing realization that I could not keep up with matching Seth beer-for-beer, but no judgment about going at my own pace (which hopefully was at least 1 of mine for 2 of his) and his stories about out-drinking leagues of people, sometimes hearing some of them only once. The first band of the fest for us were Liars, who were the usual racket but the sound not as unpleasant as the cliche of the front-man thinking he’s edgy by wearing a dress. They don’t love you like we do as much anymore, man. And if I haven’t caught up with them after this many festivals I probably won’t, but they (or as much as we saw) were a good warm-up for what was in store; Saul WIlliams could have been a contender, and maybe a secret NIN-related surprise because of their past connection, but what we saw was just the guy spouting off on stage, most charitably called spoken word, which might have been okay but we wanted some music. “A riot is not a festival” became our catch-phrase for the weekend and it was a chuckle at the time. It became prescient for our times later in seeking social justice but the man was too far ahead of his time at the time, man; X were the real spirit of the festival, not just a band aging beyond the edge that punk rock once had, but still rocking out on stage with tight, hard songs not worn from doing this longer than most of the people in the audience had been alive (well, some of them, at least). Also great to see a band that means so much to our shared home environs get respect in another part of the world, though it surely wouldn’t have mattered because they would have put on a fierce show anyway; Action Bronson was just a dude and some canned music so we kept walking by; we got the Buzzcocks (possibly the most veteran band out there) and maybe they deserved more respect but we had to eat sometime; we usually have one band neither of us know so well that we take a chance on, since we’re generally already familiar with the rest of the bands we get around to out there, and maybe due to our modest expectations, if any at all, they turn out to be a high-light. Or we had a hole in the schedule that Death From Above fit into, and we only knew them from one album shorter than their time-slot, but we knew they would rock hard enough. And they did that, even with only two guys -- and the drummer singing, no less -- and made the best and funnest noise of probably the whole weekend. This was a pair going for broke, just putting it all out there and playing as fast and loud as they could and barely concerned about keeping it under control. I hadn’t bothered with the second album and almost not with them, but there was something there, even if it was only so they could transform their newer material into something live incendiary enough to fit with their older, now-classic stuff. If it wasn’t the spirit of punk it was at least rock as blistering as it gets, going like it was going to burn itself from the inside out. Then they left the stage a smoldering ruin and the rest of us wondering what the hell just happened, and if anyone else could dare come close to what and how they blasted through; Ministry could do well to get out to play festivals to hold on to any relevance they could claim, especially since they made a habit of disregarding any former selves as soon as they assumed every new identity, but it made it hard to expect that they were going to play anything we knew and, failing that, playing anything worth hearing. They even pulled off the look -- dirty gutter-punks with a polish between bone and techy -- but accepting that that was the concession of respecting their legend. As it was, their show was just a blast of noise and some presence but easy enough to disregard. We were glad we didn’t have to spend a whole evening to check it out; I would have never thought I would have seen New Order alongside Seth, who wouldn’t normally cotton to such throw-back European techno (as it might seem to him), but a festival offering was made clearly just to put us in the same place, hopefully with some appreciation. This might have been more out of respect of the punk or post-punk cred they had as Joy Division, but they were also a known and liked band enough to pull a crowd for the second-down headliner of the day (and maybe getting along with the main headliner, if they hadn’t already in the decades before). Yet it was expected to be the same set they’d rolled out lately, being predictable enough that each tour is roughly the same and I’d already seen the show from a few angles already. But their rendering of “Subculture” was singular enough to make the set stand out (or would have if I hadn’t taken the time to go find a toilet), and if it wasn’t just a run-through that was too similar to what we already knew. Lots of synths and sequencing, not quite enough punk, but surely they saved it for everybody by taking the Joy Division guise for the end, which got them the proper cred one way or another from the crowd, if they needed it or if they even cared; there could have been some excitement for Nine Inch Nails, especially after the stellar semi-reinvigoration at the FYF Fest, but we’d already seen a limp NIN show together, and it was pretty much that FYF Fest set-list again (which could only pull of being surprising and explosive the first time), and it was late and we just felt like getting out of there for the day, and we had already probably drank plenty because I don’t remember much of the set.

missed: the Cribs (another miss (even if I only went as far as their first album), but given to the wrong side in a conflict with Ministry), INVSN (a suggestion by our L.A. group, but we weren’t going to risk getting there too early), Tobacco (a track randomly heard might have been interesting), Skating Polly (their only cred being that they were good enough to open for L7 in L.A., but also too early).

Getting in Saturday a little later than the day before was no surprise. It probably would have been a good idea to see Bad Brains, but we might not have been able to grasp the scope of their legend, and the fact that they were on so early didn’t put them in the highest echelon of consideration. We didn’t know the whole story of the band, so this might not have even been the real version of them, or maybe just another act that had a name enough to be there because they had stuck around for so long or had the luck to survive. As it was, we got the last few songs and they were legit, as far as punk bands go, fast and loud, maybe too much for so early in the day; Danzig might have the same listing as Ministry the day before, an easy festival get and a minor obligation to see, but he did nothing for us. I didn’t care even when he somehow got on the radio back in the '90s, and the devil thing -- fabrication or not -- never moved me. I’ve respected him (he was even a nice guy when I met him at the comics store once) but his art doesn't take me anywhere. What we saw, just the first half, wasn’t great, and we didn’t stick around for anything we might recognize; Mike D might have been a high-point for the day, just for what he could have done. He could have gone anywhere. We wouldn’t have guessed he would get too deep in anything Beastie Boys-related, as that was a finished project the minute that MCA passed, but to make an appearance with something, presumably music-related, was worth checking out (to maybe check our heads). He didn’t come with a band prepared for an hour of music, just one DJ (and not Mixmaster Mike or Hurricane), and kept stalking the stage, with less energy than back in the day but he could still command a presence, for whatever he was going to do. He and the DJ led a light tour through hip-hop, playing out some familiar tracks from throughout the years, some recognizable, some surely his favorite cuts, and he jumped around a bit, throwing out rhymes and some stream-of-consciousness rattling-off of facts, and even a run through of a lot of “So Whatcha Want”. The energy came from the spontaneity of it, barely a performance in the traditional sense but something loose and off-the-cuff, since he knew he’d have enough of a crowd to get something going, and just running through what he liked and throwing it out to the audience. The DJ even had a sound-bite -- maybe activated by a button -- that he could cut off a track as soon as Mike D threw a signal (or just said to stop), which was a clever, if subtle, if necessary, technique. There wouldn’t be any reason to make a routine show out of it, but for one of the legendary Beastie Boys to show up, it was worth it to see what he felt like doing for an hour; Seth and I might have parted ways for a bit and I wandered over to At The Drive-In, who might have been a more exciting act if I hadn’t seen them before and been mildly let down when the art overcame the rock (which is always a tenuous balance for them). But this time rock took over, tearing into it as soon as they exploded on to the stage, and keeping it going for the couple songs I could stick around for, before meeting up with Seth again. It might have been a shame, not seeing the rest of the set, since it could have finally been what I liked most about the band. I even went back for more later but I couldn’t claim the continuity over the set and just assumed that I’d missed out this time; we wandered over to see Wu-Tang Clan, maybe just to say we’d seen them even if playing on the side-stage inferred that it might not have been the whole thing, but that stage was more crowded than it had been all weekend, making it baffling how they were booked over there, somehow not earning the main stage (but possibly speaking to how big all the acts they got were). As it was, it was a glimpse, from a distance across a huge crowd they pulled, possibly so far away that we didn’t get the music. From that maybe we could say we saw them, but it’s probably the farthest both of us can say we’ve gotten from a band while attempting to pass off that it was anything at all; finally it was QOTSA, the center of our weekend. This was the tour for Villains, which I had only heard once, in the hotel as we were getting ready for the fest, and it sounded fine to me, even with their shift to something dancey (and maybe, maybe-not so accessible). They’re a band that has always shifted their approaches around, if not their styles, and making something in a genre so unlike them is just the kind of unpredictability that could be expected of them, if never knowing where they would land. This show was fitting the new pieces with the old, rolling out some familiar stuff along with the new. Seth might have been a bit non-plussed, as he wasn’t as open to the new sound as I might have been, and by now we’ve both seen the band enough to know the show well. The songs we knew might not have had the same energy, with the band rolling them out for the umpteenth time, yet we’d probably see another festival where they’re playing because even when the soda isn’t as fizzy as it used to be -- or was now sometimes too fizzy -- we still can’t get enough. Of course, respect to stay to the end, then no reason to stick around after that.

missed: Peaches (too early for us; too hard to tell if we missed out when she got naked, since we haven’t bothered to see her enough to know if that’s a regular thing), Dead Cross (this might have been the band I most wanted to see, just to see what Patton was doing with his newest super-group, but again too early), the Regrettes (but a conflict with Mike D)

It’s no surprise that Sunday can be a challenge, so we got in late, despite whatever intentions. We might not even have been hung over, but we didn’t make it much of a priority to hurry in, and we knew we’d catch up on the bands. Sundays are often a bummer even in the best weeks, and it was the last full day of our trip and time together, and there might have been a grimy cloud of Midwestern humidity settled over the place that made it uncomfortable. So we wandered in a bit of a daze, maybe even slowing down on the drinking since we didn’t need to party as hard mid-way through the Lord’s day. We heard some of Pennywise, a staple of SoCal alt festivals, including a great set at the Inland Invasion, but here it was sounded like standard-issue old-school punk rock while we wandered; Dinosaur Jr. were Seth’s must-see for the day but they were a disappointment. They’re capable of a sharp, full-force set but here it was mushy and a lot of obscurities that made it seem like they were trying to challenge anyone who wasn’t already a fan. Not that we needed the relative hits (that hadn’t included Lou), but it was a messy set of just a bunch of sound, which included a lot of J. scorching on a guitar but not offering much in the way of songs to pull us through the dismal afternoon; that left a stretch of time which we might say was just drinking and wandering until the headliners. For all the concerts you've seen I've been to, I’ve never been one for mosh pits. I’ve never participated in one (at least willingly) and for the times when I had to get close to one, sometimes just on the edge and obligated to shove people back in when they pass, to get closer to the stage in the early years when there was value in that, even when I was young enough to handle it and eventually choosing just to stay out, even if that meant hanging at the very back of the venue (which was better than essentially being in a fight), and haven't gotten much more physically capable of being able to withstand one as I got older. And yet we were there and it was a punk rock festival and with a rowdy crowd for Prophets of Rage, being in the pit just seemed the thing to do. So we positioned early, dismissing whatever band was on before but getting up as close to the rail as we could. Predictably it was a lot of Rage Against The Machine fans, who would have played just as well there (though a little more inciteful to action, which might have been taken to mean beating your mosh-pit neighbor in the face). Luckily it was mostly a lot of over-aged lugs like us, no one who wanted to get rough or get roughed-up, just a lot of sweaty bodies pressing against each other and jumping around, so it was ideal company for being a hard rock pit that also didn’t need to move. We got separated but that's a given being mixed in with so many bodies, and it was just as enjoyable. I never cared for Cypress Hill for B-Real, but I could be down with Chuck D, and blended with 3/4 of Rage, it was a rah-rah-rock show that moved and rocked hard, and not too dangerous for only getting an hour (not long enough to do any lasting damage or too short to leave too much leftover energy), into which they also packed some of their previous bands’ hits. The new stuff was still too new, being before their album was out, but it was the familiar rap-rock shtick they'd already pioneered and with the people on the stage it wasn’t hard to figure out or get into, if you wanted to get sweaty and jump around a lot; apparently it was a big deal that Jawbreaker were there, after having broken up years before. I only knew them from a scant few tracks on samplers from the ‘90s, though I asked around and got astonished reactions that they were back together and doing the show and that I was going. That was even in California, before getting to Chicago and finding out that they could pull a headline slot at a big festival because that’s their hometown. Still, there had to have been some value for them to pull that kind of crowd anywhere so I wanted to give them a chance, but what was surely beyond caffeinated punk rock from a couple decades before, it didn’t sound like much to me. There was something to dig into when getting some familiarity, and I eventually got marginally into them when I continued to explore the stuff I picked up later (which, as far as I could tell, was all of it, even though it all stood up as one mass of music rather than particular albums), but at the time, after a long day capping a long weekend away, I was good to leave them. There’s also something to be said for moving out before the headliner is done, to beat the traffic and bottlenecks (having no luck with those the previous nights, if not at all festivals); so we ended with Andrew W.K., dialed down in stature on the smallest, furthest stage, but ready to party hard, as if he was made for anything else. We couldn’t get it together to party on the level that he was (and always is) ready for, but we could take it in with some easy head-bobblng across the clearing. He seems to pop up wherever he's needed, maybe even beyond festivals, so we didn’t put too much into getting a lot out of him. We didn’t see anything wrong with catching that latter half of his set then taking off. Overall we could finally say we partied and got our fill from the weekend (though we didn’t go directly back to the hotel. We wandered downtown looking for a 24-hour place to get a bite to eat and ended up in a high-end all-night eatery with a great bar and a rough-looking guy who turned out to be an airplane steward who wanted to buy us dinner for hanging out with him. There might have been more to that story but we were good to be done there).

missed: Beach Slang (from Matt's T-shirt, which could have been enough to check them out), That Dog (but I'd already seen them recently), the Orwells (I discovered I had a random track by them that sounded pretty good on the sampler iPod, something not too far form Local H (a high compliment from us (though an album I got from them later didn’t hold up as well)); we got to talking to some older folks going in early in the day who turned out to be their parents, but we’d already missed them); the Mighty Mighty Bosstones (one of the acts we would have seen since we never had and it had been a while since they had been gone, but it would have been an effort to get in that early), Cap'n Jazz (who were pretty good at FYF), Built To Spill (a band everyone seems to go nuts about but have never had reason to get into my orbit), TV on the Radio (conflict with Dinosaur but I’d seen them enough to be good with missing them), Gwar (near-miss, but conflict with Prophets, which could have been the wrong decision, since it’s hard to say when we would have had any other opportunity to see them (when we’d already seen Rage plenty)), M.I.A. (same conflict but I knew her well enough and her newer stuff was still a little obtuse to me), Paramore (I gave them a chance years before but I left them as a wanna-be punk band with a cute but standard singer and too safe to be moving. Though they were touring for After Laughter, which turned out to be a pretty good album, so this was a bit of a regret (especially since I never would bother to attempt to see them anywhere else, and since it would have been an easy option to pop over. But oh well. Sometimes you miss things at festivals. There will be others).

Queens of the Stone Age's set-list:

"You Think I Ain't Worth a Dollar, but I Feel Like a Millionaire"

"Feel Good Hit of the Summer"

"Feet Don't Fail Me"

"The Way You Used to Do"

"My God Is the Sun"

"Smooth Sailing"

"The Evil Has Landed"

"No One Knows"

"Make It Wit Chu"

"Domesticated Animals"

"If I Had a Tail"

"Little Sister"

"Go With the Flow"

"A Song for the Dead"

New Order's set-list:

"Singularity"

"Disorder" (Joy Division)

"Ultraviolence" (stopped and restarted)

"Your Silent Face"

"Sub-Culture"

"Bizarre Love Triangle"

"Plastic"

"True Faith"

"Blue Monday"

"Temptation"

"Love Will Tear Us Apart" (Joy Division)

Prophets of Rages' set-list:

"Prophets of Rage" (Public Enemy)

"Testify" (Rage Against the Machine)

"Take the Power Back" (Rage Against the Machine)

"Living on the 110"

"Hail to the Chief"

"Bullet in the Head" (Rage Against the Machine)

"Hand on the Pump"/"Can't Truss It"/"Insane in the Brain"/"Bring the Noise"/"Jump Around"

"Sleep Now in the Fire" (Rage Against the Machine)

"Cochise" (Audioslave) (snippet)

"Like a Stone" (Audioslave) (instrumental with crowd singing)

"How I Could Just Kill a Man" (Cypress Hill)

"Bulls on Parade" (Rage Against the Machine)

"Killing in the Name" (Rage Against the Machine)

Danzig's set-list:

"Godless"

"Anything"

"Left Hand Black"

"How the Gods Kill"

"Dirty Black Summer"

"Heart of the Devil"

"Do You Wear the Mark"

"Bodies"

"When the Dying Calls"

"Twist of Cain"

"Devil on Hwy 9"

"Her Black Wings"

"Mother"

Ministry's set-list:

"Psalm 69"

"Punch in the Face"

"Antifa"

"Rio Grande Blood"

"Señor Peligro"

"LiesLiesLies"

"Waiting"

"Bad Blood"

"N.W.O."

"Just One Fix"

"Thieves"

"So What"

Dinosaur Jr.'s set-list:

"Just Like Heaven" (The Cure cover)

"Training Ground" (Deep Wound cover)

"Little Fury Things"

"Kracked"

"Sludgefeast"

"The Lung"

"Raisans"

"Tarpit"

"In a Jar"

"Lose"

"Poledo"

"The Wagon"

"Goin Down"

"Feel the Pain"

"Freak Scene"

"Chunks" (Last Rights cover)

Death From Above's set-list:

"Right On, Frankenstein!"

"Always On"

"Turn It Out"

"Holy Books"

"Virgins"

"Freeze Me"

"You're a Woman, I'm a Machine"

"Going Steady"

"Black History Month"

"Trainwreck 1979"

"Little Girl"

"White Is Red"

"Romantic Rights"

"Caught Up"

"Government Trash"

"The Physical World

X's set-list:

"Beyond and Back"

"In This House That I Call Home"

"We're Desperate"

"It's Who You Know"

"Because I Do"

"The New World"

"True Love""

"Dancing With Tears in My Eyes" (Regent Club Orchestra cover)

"The World's a Mess, It's in My Kiss"

"The Hungry Wolf"

"Year 1"

"Los Angeles"

"Your Phone's Off the Hook, But You're Not"

"Johny Hit and Run Paulene"

"Motel Room in My Bed"

"Soul Kitchen (The Doors cover)"

FYF Fest, July 21 - 23, 2017 at Exposition Park

 I always assumed we would be a lock for every FYF Fest forever more. We had hit the last few, even I had gone to the last one before it seemed to hit the big time (and when they were still at the Historic Park, which should have been big enough), and it was a weekend with our friends. So it had become just a regular weekend event, though one we always looked forward to, as possibly our last big summer weekend with everyone (though we had plenty of events in the cooler months, even if they didn't always have anything to do with music festivals), and even more out-sized when FYF went to a three-day format. As such and as usual, we spent a lot of the time drinking together, and many of the bands we saw were just picked up as we were meeting and traversing beer gardens, though that could be as good as any casual sampling could be. This year, I had just gotten back from the San Diego comic con the night before, and Carla had worked the early half of the first day, so it was akin to a local show for us, though with a line-up that could get world-wide attention. We would have done the thing anyway, but the line-up, even with fewer rock acts than we were used to, was exceptional, with plenty of new bands and acts we had never seen, and were fortunate to be here. Even better, we had no problem ever getting in, which we could chalk up to them getting their act together or us just being early or lucky enough to slip in between the cracks. We also got to have Jenn ride over with us, adding to the spirit of all of us together and having a good weekend among the great music and lots of beer.

Friday was the usual day of easing in, if only because we got there later, to beat the early crowd, because of being a weekday and traffic, though it was still a shorter day. Yet we took our time, with Angel Olsen being our warm-up as we were walking in. She’s one of the acts that seems to always make it to the fest, being a local, so we knew she’d be around anyway if we one day got into her stuff, so we didn’t push it and made our way past; Björk had headlined Coachella and plenty of other festivals around the world, as well as being a figure for alternative culture (not always for music, though some reputations can fall away when other elements outlast them). Oddly she got stuck mid-bill for the slowest day, perhaps her own concession just to come over for the show and be done with it, or whatever negotiations we’re not privy to. Even if I haven’t sat purposely through one of her whole shows, I knew enough that a small chunk of her set could be background music for standing in line for beer. Though the joke was on me: Dave said she did “Hyperballad,” which would have been worth it to have sat for the rest of the show; we got the middle half of Survive, which was probably as much Stranger Things synths as we needed (and more than anyone needed a live performance for, besides the fandom for the show, if they anyone would survive the entire fest just for them), while meeting up with Tana; Slowdive were a fantastic get for the fest but being there for the same thing again didn’t have the thrill of their coming out of hibernation and feeling we had something particularly special, as well as the risk that they could just do the same show again. So it became meeting up with everyone in the field for a drink in the early evening (though a chance conversation with Lingo became the seed of a plan that would pay off at the next fest); Missy Elliott was the main draw of the day/night, for as much as we saw as we moseyed over just to check out the headliner. She came up in the ‘90s when I had little to do with pop music and she’s earned her place as a surviving legend in the time since, and it was a big deal that they got her, especially for what was once an alt-music/punk fest, but she could pull as large a crowd as she wanted. There was too much talking between songs, which might be the style, and maybe they were actually saying something, but it wasn’t enough music to keep us dancing for too long. We checked in, could say we were there, then we started to head out; we got Osees (or whatever variation of their name they were using) on the way to the exit -- finally a full-on rock band with plenty of guitars and volume. They sounded heavy and great and probably would have been as good for a full set as the sliver we caught, but it was the plan to leave early so we made our way to go.

Missed: Flying Lotus (apparently a big deal but for us still only a Thom Yorke connection (and now not worth the chance of seeing if Yorke showed up)); Hannibal Buress (a comedian at a festival could be a welcome novelty but we weren’t there for laughs (even for as much as we became fans later on)); Royal Headache (a sampling on Alexa’s Spotify that might have been a good find but we didn't get over there, being too busy casually picking up minimal bits of the other bands).

Saturday was much the same deal, but the comfort of familiarity can be nice when you have a schedule to keep and bands to see. We were there in time to see Big Thief, who we were excited about, but they went on 15 minutes late (deadly at a festival, especially early in the day and for a band trying to break out when they need every advantage they can get), then had sound problems, and were too delicate to make much of an impact anyway. That threatened to be as far as they would go; Mitski deserved more excitement but we barely knew her at the time. Luckily we had foresight enough to be near her set and caught a bit of it, even if it was just a passing distraction while we had an early beer. As it was, we should have paid more attention; we thought Thundercat could be great, for as much hype as he was getting, but it was just a lot of jazz which wasn’t enough to grab the rock fans of us; then Cap’N Jazz weren’t jazz at all, being as much a punk thing as the fest got that year, and pretty good. If we knew they were going to rock that hard, we would have given them more than 10 minutes (which isn’t much more time than their set got in the first place); it was almost a trick to have seen King Krule, as we only heard him because we were passing by, but this was another Spotify scout and he did not grab me in advance and didn’t win me over in person; A Tribe Called Quest were another rap act I missed in the golden age of hip-hop in the early-’90s, but luckily I was saved by Carla’s encouragement later on and I had another rich discovery (if not also an entry into a version of jazz). I got on that boat about as late as possible, and would have missed it completely a day later, but I was able to get their monumental last-ever L.A. show (and without founding member Fife Dawg they might actually make that stick, to say nothing of coming back together to do anything they did, including this, without him). I didn’t have the breadth of fandom to appreciate the entire set, but I knew I was seeing something special and it sounded great, with boundless energy. At least everyone was with me and them on those counts since they pulled an enormous, excited crowd. Maybe it was just for scheduling, but this was a coup over Coachella or any other festival in the world to get them, especially across the country from their hometown, so we could be even more proud of our local festival.

Missed; Frank Ocean (the headliner for the day but that didn’t mean we had to give him time. I had some albums of his but just didn’t connect. He might have been worth the time to get into but there didn’t seem much point after passing this rare crossing of our worlds); Sleep (Rollins-recommended and sounded great at home, but we left early); The Faint (a scratchy, techno, Mid-West band, maybe robots, but I could not get myself to be a fan for as much as I made the effort some years before. Could have checked them out live but would have taken nearly anyone else over them); The Drums (made a comeback years after I took their album out of rotation. Couldn’t bring me back); Built To Spill (who are probably important and maybe I’d love them, but missed again); MGMT (never got my interest beyond those first few singles, and had no interest in making the effort to test it again. Though Dave was a fan, and we could have ridden along on that, but there was probably beer elsewhere); the Black Madonna (Jenn-recommended and  sounded good at home, but one of those last-on late acts that we just didn’t do anymore)

And back on Sunday, same deal. We got most of Chicano Batman, a rock band that went beyond a Latino affiliation, but they were just in the background while we were meeting up with Vanessa (which also meant drinks); you’d know Ty Segall from ever listening to Rollins’ radio show and he’s a local guy who would be there anyway, so we still probably would have checked him out even if Heather’s boyfriend wasn’t in the band. As it was, he sounded great; our biggest excitement for the weekend was seeing Iggy Pop, the man, the legend, and he didn’t disappoint. It’s shameful to have missed him through the years, save for a snippet or two of passing by at a festival, which could have been taken for disrespect or stupidity (or both), so this could just be a limp attempt at a reparation, a bit late but also showing appreciation for his putting out solid, new material (American Valhalla; enough to open with "Dog," flipping one of the greatest closers of all time). We had also watched Gimme Danger not long before, just to twist the knife a bit more, then probably shoved it in the rest of the way to realize that I could have seen that legendary performance at Coachella with the Stooges (who barely knowing at the time became no excuse to willingly leave early). But the only way to live with a concert regret is to at least see the new thing, and Iggy doesn’t age anyway. He was out there writhing and wriggling and screaming and living as much as he ever has, and we got the full effect, as much as anyone could without traveling back through time. It’s hard to even count off a tinge of disappointment when it wasn’t QOTSA backing him, but missing that Greek show is just another to add to the list. If Iggy was another name to bring cred to the festival, he was also an act to show that he lived up to it and that it was a world-class fest to have him (though maybe not such a task to get him since he keeps working); Blonde Redhead, a band I decided I didn’t need to have anything to do with years before, were just our soundtrack while making plans for Vanessa for the evening; Run The Jewels were going to be there anyway, as if there was a festival or show they would turn down, and they still kept turning out albums and getting good placement on fest bills. They turned out to be not my flavor of aggressive hip-hop but seeing a high-energy performance was just the right place for that evening. As it was, I got to enjoy them alone when the girls headed out, and I could get warmed-up for the main event; I admit to not having much expectation for Nine Inch Nails. As much of a fan as I will eternally ever be, and still picking up the new stuff and showing up for the shows (at a festival (most of the time) at least), they were just another good headliner for a fest, and one I’d seen before, at small shows up to other festivals. My level of fandom couldn’t be disputed, but there could be a limit. They were still turning out new stuff that had its moments (if not as angry as it once was or what I wanted from it at one time), and the live stuff still would have the high-points of ages past, but it almost felt like an obligation to see them, and even to stay behind when my lady wanted to go home. The Bakersfield set just before was only okay, most of the pieces of an obligatory run through a show I’d seen before. But still I installed myself in the crowd, closer than I’d gotten for any other act, and got as ready as I was going to be (and assuming the lady next to me wasn’t going to yammer through the whole thing (but she did anyway)). They went on and it could have been any other NIN show with the same set-list he’d been playing for a while, but then he pulled out the rug by ripping into “Wish” as the second song. That was usually in the encore, a blast of rage to send off the good people (or to leave everything on the field before bringing it down with “Hurt”), and that explosion of surprise seemed to state the band was there to tear it up like they hadn’t before, even if the audience didn’t catch it, But I did. From there the set was up in the air, even though they still ran through most of the standards (though with playing "Something I Can Never Have" for the first time on this tour, and a latter Bowie cover), since a festival audience wouldn't react well to deep cuts. But changing up the list early on, for whatever reason they did it besides a whim, set a wild pace that maybe anything could happen. Even though it’s rock n’ roll, there are even still limits, and some of these folks, like the biggest fans and including Reznor, are over 50, so it could only go so far, but the set had more energy than they’d shown in a while, and some excitement if you knew where to look for it. I waited out the entire set, more to meet up with Jenn afterward, but I’m glad I got to catch the whole thing -- it would have been hard to leave with that much energy then not know if I might miss something great. As it was, it was just another NIN show with a hint at some minor surprises, but to say it was a little afield from the usual, and still good, meant that it was exceptionally great. Also learning that it paid well to leave early the nights before, as that place became depressingly desolate at night after the last band.

Missed: Solange (discovering interest in seeing her would be as befuddling as why she was there in the first place), Mac Demarco (headed over to see him but got distracted by beers on the way); Whitney (some interest since they used to be Smith-Westerns but couldn’t get in to the new version as much), Cherry Glazerr (could have been a strong chance but got in too late).

A Tribe Called Quest's set-list:
"The Space Program"
"Oh My God"
"Common Ground (Get It Goin' On)"
"Busta's Lament"
"Let's Ride"
"Dis Generation"
"Mobius"
"Excursions"
"Find a Way"
"Woo Hah!! Got You All in Check" (Busta Rhymes cover) (snippet)
"Whateva Will Be"
"Luck of Lucien" (snippet)
"Butter" (Phife's first verse a capella)
"Spaceship" (Kanye West cover) (Consequence solo on stage)
"Movin Backwards" (Jarobi solo on stage)
"Sucka Nigga"
"Phony Rappers"
"Black Spasmodic"
"Steve Biko (Stir It Up)"
"Buggin' Out" (with Raphael Saadiq)
"Bonita Applebum"
"Electric Relaxation"
"Vivrant Thing"
"Check the Rhime"
"Can I Kick It?"
"Award Tour"
"We the People...."

Nine Inch Nails' set-list:
"Fireman (Angelo Badalamenti song) (intro)
"Branches/Bones"
"Wish"
"Less Than"
"March of the Pigs"
"Something I Can Never Have"
"The Frail"
"The Wretched"
"Closer" (with "The Only Time" snippet)
"Copy of A"
"Gave Up"
"I Can't Give Everything Away" (David Bowie cover) (Farewell Mix)
"The Lovers"
"Reptile"
"The Great Destroyer"
"Burning Bright (Field on Fire)"
"The Hand That Feeds"
"Head Like a Hole"
"Hurt"

Iggy Pop's set-list:
"I Wanna Be Your Dog"
"Gimme Danger"
"The Passenger"
"Lust for Life"
"Skull Ring"
"I'm Sick of You"
"Some Weird Sin"
"Repo Man"
"Search and Destroy"
"Gardenia"
"T.V. Eye"
"Mass Production"

Slowdive's set-list:
"Slowdive"
"Slomo"
"Catch the Breeze"
"Crazy for You"
"Star Roving"
"Machine Gun"
"Souvlaki Space Station"
"Sugar for the Pill"
"When the Sun Hits"
"Alison"
"No Longer Making Time"
"Golden Hair" (Syd Barrett cover)

Mitski's set-list:
"Francis Forever"
"Townie"
"Your Best American Girl"
"Dan the Dancer"
"First Love/Late Spring"
"Happy"
"Drunk Walk Home"
"I Will"
"Thursday Girl"
"My Body's Made of Crushed Little Stars"

Ty Segall's set-list:
"Break a Guitar"
"Freedom"
"Warm Hands (Freedom Returned)"
"Finger"
"Orange Color Queen"
"Oh Mary"
"Squealer"
"Candy Sam"
"Love Fuzz"
"Sleeper"
"The Crawler"
"Feel"

Big Thief's set-list:
"Shark Smile"
"Shoulders"
"Great White Shark"
"Mary"
"Magic Dealer"
"Masterpiece"
"Real Love
"Paul"

Blondie/Garbage/Sky Ferreira, July 9, 2017 at the Hollywood Bowl

It's taken me years to come to the harsh realization that Garbage never got as far as they deserved, that they never played the very biggest venues and even occasionally were still an opening band, but it was still a surprise and perplexing that they never played the Hollywood Bowl. Maybe they could have pulled off headlining it back in the day, but especially now they had to be part of a shared bill, especially when they were still moving forward instead of chasing some '90s nostalgia thing that never hit as hard as the' 80s thing did (for better or worse). Putting Blondie on that bill might have split the difference between the two eras, but it was still two bands that made for a great show, even if a person weren't obsessed by one of those groups. There was never much reason to go out of the way to see Blondie, especially when they hadn’t shown up on festival line-ups, but they're probably a bucket-list band. But really, they were just extra frosting for seeing Garbage. Garbage by this point had probably gotten around to every venue in L.A. (if not the world, the tour dogs that they are), but playing the Bowl isn't usually about the size of the crowd that place can pull but connecting to the history, majesty, and notoriety of the most noteworthy performing space in the city, if not the world. Garbage probably appreciated that, at least, if not for the fact that they still had the pull to make it there, even if they weren't heading the bill. It's always a place threatening to envelop whoever's on stage but Garbage could trot out their hits and hold their own. We even got a song I didn’t know yet (the opener, a single, noting how they weren’t touring on a new album for this show). It might have been just another tour stop for Blondie (the band, not just Debbie Harry (as some radio DJs haven’t even gotten right)), who out-veteraned Garbage, and maybe they had even played the Bowl before, back in their heyday, but they still held up a good show, strolling through their hits while having the confidence in their new stuff (off Pollinator; not strong enough to continue their string of having a #1 hit in multiple decades) to play it alongside. It might have been inconsistent but with as many noteworthy songs as they have, there's only so much they can do in a tour through their history. “Hanging on the Telephone” was probably a gimme, though welcome (as my main reason to see them, even if it was just them), and they didn't bother giving it a lead-up by playing it early in the set, but they had enough other, more-recognizable songs, even if those weren't necessarily better. “Dreaming” wasn't a big hit, yet they left it to the end, a bit of a mellow lead out, but we left before it (during “Heart of Glass”), on a more spirited note (and just wanting to beat the exiting crowd). “Voices Carry” might be one of the most perfectly-recorded songs ever committed to tape, a song so exquisite that covering it should be a perilous risk, but Sky Ferreira (there without a recent release, probably just to pop up to play the Bowl) did her best to make it work. In a live setting its performed imperfections could be overlooked, as well as the guarded admiration in making the attempt, but as part of a set that didn't need to stick by an opener, and who we just happened to see when going in early after our picnic with Jen (who I arrived with, taking the shuttle over from Lankershim), Vanessa, Dave, Liz, and Liz’s family outside, it amounted to a novelty, albeit pleasant, for a nice evening at the Bowl with some rock from the eras.

Blondie’s set-list:
“One Way or Another“
“Hanging on the Telephone“ (The Nerves cover)
“Fun“
“Call Me“
“Rapture“
“Rainy Day Women #12 & 35“ (Bob Dylan cover)
“Fragments“ (An Unkindness cover)
“Long Time“
“Atomic“
“Too Much“
“Heart of Glass“
“Union City Blue“
“Dreaming“

Garbage’s set-list:
“No Horses“
“Queer“
“#1 Crush“
“Empty“
“I Think I'm Paranoid““
“Cherry Lips (Go Baby Go!)
“Special“
“Cup of Coffee“ (with Inara George)
“Even Though Our Love Is Doomed“
“The World Is Not Enough“
“Stupid Girl“
“Only Happy When It Rains“
“Push It“
“Vow“

Sky Ferreira’s set-list:
“24 Hours“
“Ain't Your Right“
“Guardian“
“I Blame Myself“
“Voices Carry“ (’Til Tuesday cover)
“You're Not the One“

U2/the Lumineers, May 21, 2017 at the Rose Bowl

U2 are one of those bands, maybe the only one, that everyone should see -- I’ve said it before, even on here. They cross a lot of genres, with splendor enough even for non-fans, and they have the rare production deserving of a stadium, even greater if it were available. Though by now I’ve seen them more than once so I should be good, unless somehow they could pull off something extraordinary, which is within their scope but they could only do so much with songs we all know already. Then they come out of nowhere with not only playing an album in its entirety -- a trend you might have thought they were beyond -- but it’s an album as classic as it is beloved, and one that deserved a run-through if any did, based solely on how stellar each song is and how it holds together, even now. The Joshua Tree would be my by-far favorite by them if not for Achtung Baby, which seems like any entirely different thing by an entirely different band anyway, but most bands, even ones I love, generally only get one really great album, at most. Playing that could have been enough. I would have even considered putting down going to a stadium show, though going alone, since Carla had already been and was good for it, but I could have gone alone. Then Carla and her friend started to make plans to go, which left me free for the night, possibly to go to the same show. So the plan went to us going together, along with her friend's spouse, making it an even four. Somehow I got the job to get the tickets, which were pricey but at least I only had to pay for two (up from the one I was going to get originally, if I had even committed, which would be iffy considering how much they cost). The seats weren’t great, but if you were going to a stadium show and not wanting to spend through the nose, you would take what you could get and hope that the screens were big and the sound holds up. Carla’s friend balked at the price of the tickets and decided not to go, leaving me with the cost of theirs. I figured it was a big enough show and I could sell the extras, maybe even make a profit on it (though that didn't pay off for the Rolling Stones tickets, which was its own debacle). I took my time listing the tickets, not sure about the price, and even more unsure when they didn’t sell, until a few days before the show, when I dropped the price to about half of face. That wasn’t the biggest deal -- I was still getting money for them and I would be wiser about getting tickets for others in the future. And we had our own tickets so at least we were in for the show. I got the money for the extra tickets and had ours printed out, then they scanned when we got to the Bowl, assuming that if I gave them the tickets I sold they wouldn’t have worked. They checked out so we got in, no problem. In our seats, we even talked to the girls next to us who bought the tickets and they didn’t say anything about any difficulties getting in. At the time it seemed like everything worked out and we could enjoy the show. As it turned out, the tickets didn’t work for the girls who bought them from me. They bought some scalped tickets so they could get in, explaining why they were still there, but not from my tickets. Apparently I scanned the wrong tickets for us getting in, since the change in ownership didn’t register in their system, so I could have given them either, and I happened to give them the ones that we had sold. Maybe if we had gotten there after them our tickets wouldn’t have worked so we would have used the others ones and it would have worked out. Instead, we lost on 50/50 odds and they demanded their money back since I was a fraud. Luckily, they got a refund and I worked something out with StubHub. I didn’t quite have to pay for all four tickets, but it was a lot more than just one. The show wasn’t quite worth that -- no show with just one or two bands playing is -- but they made a great effort. U2 usually get great openers but they don’t always bring them to southern California. We didn’t need to have anything to do with the Lumineers, though owing Joshua Tree for their sound if not their existence, they were one with the theme of the night, a rock band rooted in American folk music, so they were an opening band in the purest essence, being a warm-up in the same vein for the main attraction. And even if U2 were playing a gimmick, this show was as grandiose as anything they’ve done. They had the age of the album behind them, and all these fans had been living with it possibly their entire lives, so they were sold on more than one level. The band even treated it as more than a run-through of the album as the entirety of the show, playing a mini-set of pre-album hits as a warm-up or a defiance of relying on just one work before getting into the album itself. U2 probably couldn't get away with anything but most of the hits, even if there were obscurities from that era. The songs from Joshua Tree still hold up but the context is different, with a political landscape that changed then changed again then changed again, and had currently gone to shit, as well as a sound that had been ripped off so deeply and so widely since that it was just engrained in what was rock music (including the better opening bands they got elsewhere in the tour, including Beck). They played the songs, half of which are usually a chunk of their set-list for any tour, but the fans got the deep cuts on this turn (including “Exit,” which had recently risen from obscurity among louder highlights into contention as my favorite track on the album, for its foreboding, subtle beat and rise to a contained fury, which Bono does well when he bothers to). In a place that size they couldn’t rely on just playing the songs so they dressed up the performance with visuals spread across screens as wide as the stadium space, movies just for that but probably literally the same as bigger versions, for as much as they could do with them and as much as they needed to match the intensity and majesty of the performance. The visuals were fine but just a backdrop when it was about the greatness of the songs, which were played as well as they have even been, not needing to risk changing up anything to disrupt the comfort of the experience. The album isn’t long enough to fill an expensive, out-sized performance, so they followed it up with more tunes, playing hits they were obligated to do no matter the theme of the show, and throwing in a few deep-ish and new cuts. Getting another recital of “Ultraviolet (Light My Way)”, there are no complaints from me. U2 didn’t turn down the grandness of their show, despite playing the lower-key album that vaulted them into being the grandest band for the next few decades, but made it work for filling the biggest-possible space. They didn’t bother with trying to make it intimate but they turned the opposite into its own monumental spectacle, and no one could expect less or want more (except for a fair price for a ticket).

U2s’ set-list:
“Sunday Bloody Sunday“
“New Year's Day“
“Pride (In the Name of Love)“

“Where the Streets Have No Name“ (with "California (There Is No End to Love)" snippet)
“I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For“
“With or Without You“ (with "Shine Like Stars" snippet)
“Bullet the Blue Sky“
“Running to Stand Still“
“Red Hill Mining Town“
“In God's Country“
“Trip Through Your Wires“
“One Tree Hill“ (dedicated to Chris Cornell)
“Exit“ (with "Wise Blood" and "Eeny Meeny Miny Moe" snippets)
“Mothers of the Disappeared“

“Miss Sarajevo“ (Passengers; with "The New Colossus" snippet)
“Bad“ (with "America" snippet)
“Beautiful Day“ (with "City of Stars" snippet)
“Elevation“
“Ultraviolet (Light My Way)“
“One“ (with "Hear Us Coming" snippet)
“The Little Things That Give You Away“

That Dog/Imperial Teen, April 8, 2017 At the El Rey

That Dog just barely missed the big time back in the ‘90s. They were tuneful enough, a girls-with-guitars vibe, and locked into the post-grunge sound of the time. They even got some play on KROQ and 120 Minutes, which was probably my entry into them (not going to enough shows in town to witness their ubiquity), and “Never Say Never” was fun and crunchy enough to lead me to Retreat From The Sun. It was more that the album got into my rotation early when there was less stuff rather than playing it so much because I loved it, but even if it was a little longer than it needed to be, there was still plenty to like (including “Long Island,” which was the most painful earwig I’ve ever had, taking at least one night of sleep from me). I even followed Anna to her solo album, though the band’s first album, which was even more acclaimed depending on who you asked, was too indie for me. Anna might have been in the L.A. scene but didn't stay as present as her early promise showed she might have been at. So That Dog could have kept being away, but then suddenly, almost at random all these years on (before catching whatever '90s nostalgia fad might have brought them up by default), they had a show. Their getting back together would have been special (or inevitable) enough, but then they were also playing Retreat in its entirety, so we could pretend that album had been a big deal back in the day. I may have passed on a standard show by them, risking that they would play too much earlier stuff that I hadn't been worn into familiarity with, but I'm automatically interested when a band plays an album I've heard as much as I did that one. They only did this one local show, with only one other for the year (which I also happened to be at but didn't need it twice, especially since they played so early), and it didn’t sell out the El Rey, a medium-sized club at best, which goes to show that there wasn’t exactly a crazed demand for them, so they might as well have done it when their schedules met up. It was a casual rock show without pretension or concern that this could lead to something bigger, like it might have seemed earlier on, and with a crowd that didn’t pack out the place, and maybe a bit older, made it actually fairly intimate, like they were doing a show for friends and family, and some of those finally got to bring some people to see them play after all these years, but not necessarily the usual fans (though also eschewing that it would be a show to make money at, given how long that guest-list must have been), balanced by those who have been obsessed with them since back when. They probably worked that album so hard back then trying to break through that it was a stroll to play it, and they, and the audience, now could have a good time with it. They even did one new song, as if to show that they’re still in it (though that one could have had a long time to sit around). The album sounded great even without the polished production (maybe the result of Anna’s connections rather than paying to position them), showing that they could be carried by good songs veering close to what pop back in the '90s (though not as always as rock-out as “Never Say Never,” a misrepresentation that might have peeved some fans expecting more of the same (like me, though I found more than I might have thought)). She even sweetly dedicated a song to her husband, from Redd Kross, since they’re a cute, L.A.-scene couple that's also lasted. Imperial Teen was another band that missed being a big deal, despite getting around here and there (though Roddy had things to do with Faith No More). They were coming back after the same post-’90s hiatus, and it could have been a toss-up who headlined this show, though each were friendly enough that they probably would have been happy to give it to the other. Less the theme of two groups sharing low-key reunions that didn't need to go anywhere and more a group of friends hanging out on stage and rolling through some hits that didn't make it, together with the fans that saw them through originally and family that had seen them since, or at least getting out just because they want to, without expectations. They all had some years on them, but they still knew their way around some tunes that deserved more than simple nostalgia. Carla didn't know them as well but went along anyway.

That Dog’s set-list:
“I'm Gonna See You“
“Never Say Never“
“Being With You“
“Gagged and Tied“
“Retreat From the Sun“
“Minneapolis“
“Annie“ (original version)
“Every Time I Try“
“Long Island“
“Hawthorne“
“Did You Ever“
“Cowboy Hat“
“Until the Day I Die“

“Just the Way“ (new song)
“Jump“
“She Looks At Me“
“Old Timer“
“He's Kissing Christian“

Imperial Teen's set-list:

"Sugar"

"Ivanka"

"Our Time"

"No Matter What You Say"

"You're One"

"Yoo Hoo"

"Room With a View"

"Lipstick"

"Waterboy"

"Million $ Man"

Bash & Pop/the Yawpers, March 7, 2017 at the Troubadour

It’s no surprise that I followed Tommy Stinson after the Replacements, through his various post-’Mats bands in whatever form they took. I didn’t find them until well after they’d stopped doing anything, being behind the curve on my Replacements obsession pretty much down the line, but I caught up eventually. His post-'Mats' band Bash & Pop's Friday Night Is Killing Me is a gem that I would have missed if not from the association. No matter who else Stinson had behind him, his groups were the familiar, scrappy bar-bands, though without the achy ballads and poppy tunefulness that Westerberg could bring to their former act, but it was still Stinson getting out and being a presence. I would have seen his solo shows (including the one at Spaceland with Alien Crime Syndicate opening, which still perplexes me why I wasn’t there), but even having been in a legendary band (two, if you count GnR), it still didn’t often get out that he was playing a show. I never would have thought Bash & Pop (or whoever that could be) would have played another show, because they weren’t a musical entity or Stinson had moved on, using a new name if he wanted a new band (though he had also been using his own, solo), but there it was, and the listing for the show actually got to me (from an e-mail mailing list if not the newspaper). I was working the late shift at the time but it was a friendly gig and I took one night off in the six months I was there (finding from that that I had PTO, but too late to do anything with it). And it was outside of the wife’s wheelhouse, as well as being a show during the week, so I went solo, flowing with the ease of the Troubadour. The night was so open I even treated myself to not making a mess of getting to the show, being there early enough to see the openers, the Yawpers, a bar-band in the usual tradition, and solid enough to be a good lead-in to the main act. The 2017 version of B&P might as well have been the same or completely different, with as much as anyone could remember about them from 24 years before (or, for me, no memory at all), and whoever was still a lingering fan enough to bother to show up (and judging from an energetic reaction to a casual mention to his former partner, likely the ‘Mats fans are still hanging on (like me, of course)). Stinson might have had a reason to keep the name even without the line-up, but he was still the draw. He could have played all the B&P stuff in a solo show (and probably had), but it was only half the set anyway, with his solo stuff and covers thrown in. Though it was still scrappy, even for Stinson’s legend, and we were still in a bar. It might have been all that Stinson had left after the lackluster Replacements reunion that was either too late or too ambitious and Duff went back to GnR, but he did it with a grungy panache. As long as he kept making music (especially if Westerberg wasn’t going to) he could call it whatever he wants.

Bash & Pops’ set-list:
“Not This Time“
“Rip This Joint“ (The Rolling Stones cover)
“On the Rocks“
“Bad News“
“The Kids Are Alright“ (The Who cover)
“Breathing Room“
“You're My Favorite Waste of Time“ (Marshall Crenshaw cover)
“Tiny Pieces“
“Anybody Else“
“Zero To Stupid“ (Tommy Stinson song)
“Come To Hide“ (Tommy Stinson song)
“Midnight Rambler“ (The Rolling Stones cover)
“Not A Moment Too Soon“ (Tommy Stinson song)
“He Means It“
“Unfuck You“
“Anything Could Happen“
“Never Aim To Please“
“Friday Night (Is Killing Me)“
“First Steps“

“Fast & Hard“

Deafheaven/Health, January 12, 2017 at the Echoplex

Shortly after I met Carla she got me into the Song Of The Week group, an e-mail circle of friends who would share music. Not every single thing was life-changing -- there were tracks that weren’t to my taste, some stuff I hadn’t acquired the taste for, a few things just for musicians to appreciate -- but there was overall just some good, new music, and, with some frequency, some tracks that stood out and made me have to pursue them. In our post-radio/post-music-magazine (sometimes even post-blog) world, I don’t pick up on a lot of the new stuff, even enough of it to sort through to find the really engaging stuff. But a track jumped out at me from Deafheaven. I’m not always taken by scraping, screeching metal, but anyone knows I love shoe-gaze, and somehow they not only somehow make melding those two make sense but they also make it tuneful, even poetic. It’s a lot of elements, with barely a semblance of traditional song structure, that pull a minor miracle of being anything listenable. They even did it for more than one album, like they know the trick and this is their thing that they’ll keep doing. And the first one still hasn’t been touched by anyone: Sunbather is still a maze to me no matter how many times I’ve gone through it. We missed the band at FYF due to working the next day so there was an obligation to finally see them, and playing the Echoplex made it an easy sell. It wasn’t exactly a metal show with a bunch of headbangers, but some indie heads and modest, conservative appreciators of alt-metal, the kind that would have been as into Helmet if that wasn’t now their dad’s music. It got hot and sweaty in there but there was barely a pit. The singer could have looked the part, with the long hair, and as magnetic as he’d need to be to get something so “screamo” -- as Carla called it, surprised this was that kind of band -- even facing toward anything resembling approaching the mainstream. If that guy had to front some kind of band, it might as well be screeching metal (or “blackgaze” or “post-metal” or whatever). The rest of the show was an electric grind through a lot of show cuts, constantly being interwoven and recombined into a lot of new things, showing off the newest album, New Bermuda. and layering on thick slabs of noise that might have wandered forever if the riffs didn't wear out  Like their albums, there weren’t a lot of actual songs but the sound was in massive chunks of emotive metal. Truth in advertising: there was heavenly bliss in going deaf (as if that has never been printed in a review before). We had to leave just before the last song, which could have been half the show for all we knew, but for all the force and intensity and volume, we’d gotten a lot. The openers were Health, some local fellows who have gotten around but we’ve already missed. They had their guitars but they were jauntier (as anything would be, compared to the headliners), even dance-y at point. They didn’t even have to play their “Blue Monday” cover (even if that was my only connection to them, on the Atomic Blonde soundtrack). They might have been prized for being available rather than being in line with Deafheaven, but they were a good warm-up and maybe a band we won’t miss at festivals anymore (though I might still run into at O'Hare airport). WIFE and Chasms might also have opened, but we didn’t get there that early.

Deafheaven’s set-list:
“Brought to the Water“
“Luna“
“Baby Blue“
“Language Games“
“Unrequited“
“Cody“ (Mogwai cover)
“Dream House“
“Irresistible“
“Sunbather“
“Daedalus“

Health’s set-list:
"Victim"
"Men Today"
"Die Slow"
"New Coke"
"Tears"
"Salvia"
"Crimewave"
"Stonefist"
"L.A. Looks"
"USA Boys"
"Courtship II"
"Dark Enough"
"Heaven"
"Crusher"
"We Are Water"
"Perfect Skin"

Helmet/Local H, December 1, 2016 at the Roxy

Local H seem to take any tour, since if it gets them out and makes them a relevant, active band again, especially when albums don’t sell, and it makes it so that we get to see them, no matter that it’s been a lot by now. Coming up with a combo tour is like a slot-machine, possibly even making it so we don’t have to risk seeing Everclear with them, and they come through L.A. as frequently as anyone does, even though that city would seem too easy to stoke their persistent ire. They’re even pissy about it in an out-dated, grunge rock-star kind of way, though they might or might not be like that anywhere, and it’s gotten a certain charm about it, especially when no one seems to be grumpy about rock anymore (and inspiring just for someone to be emotional toward it). It was time for another loop into the city, this time pairing up with Helmet, another band relying on anyone remembering them from the old stuff rather than knowing anything since 2000, but putting them together could make for a compelling bill, even to see how they’ve updated anything. I’m always in to see Local H but to miss them this time would be to have the opportunity to catch them again in a few months, but still it was a good package for a weekday night, enough to even get a second ticket. The wife might have been persuaded to go if she hadn’t already seen Local H before but she stayed out, so instead I got Vanessa to go, and it gave us the chance to catch up before the show at the pizza place a few blocks away, along with hashing out our very dire concerns for the future after the recent election. Local H had just been at the Roxy the previous June on their tour playing As Good As Dead, probably the best draw they could make on their own, and here they were opening a show. Sure, they could say the bands were co-headlining, but Local H went on first and they played a much shorter set, enough to be openers by any measure. Yet, they were still explosive, as forceful as any other show they’ve done, and more impactful for the smaller space, which was packed and hot, even in December. Surely loud, too, as their system may not differentiate between wherever they’re playing, and they might as well turn the volume all the way up. We might have also been standing as close as we could to the stage, since there wasn’t too much further to the back from the front, and it’s a rock show. They even played some tunes I wasn’t familiar with (both their earliest tracks and from the new album, Hey, Killer), reminding me I hadn’t been keeping up with them enough, but good to hear something fresh (and being one time they didn’t bother dredging out “Bound For The Floor” yet again). Helmet once again sounded like crap, with lackluster new songs (especially from the newest album, Dead to the World) and Page not singing with the grit or even tune that he once had and now doesn’t even try when recording. I thought maybe they could make something of the junk newer stuff or lean on the reliable old stuff but what we got was a lot of sludge that wasn’t even entirely well-meaning. We had some drinks but there wasn’t any point in staying so, assuming “Wilma’s Rainbow” was only a brief aberration and there wasn't going to be a miracle to redeem the rest, we took off. We got enough of a show, with a furious if short Local H set and enough to know that we didn’t need to bother with Helmet anymore. This is the one time that setlist.fm worked against me, as I gave in to my curiosity to see how close we were to the end of the show and see what else they played. That’s when it got me, that they were saving the best (or just good) for the end: every song I could want to hear them play (save for all of Aftertaste) is what they did, only after we left. Whether they were finally free of the new material they thought they had to get out to consider themselves still relevant or they begrudgingly played the stuff that anyone knew and wanted to hear, they brought out material for a good show in a long encore and maybe they rocked it. Page’s voice probably didn’t do the stuff any favors but it was the effort that (would have) meant something  At least the music could cram the room with some heavy, pounding sound. So their case could still be open, that maybe there could be a reason to see them, but I wouldn’t bet much on it, and they would need a good partner to make it worth risking some cash for it.

Helmet’s set-list:
“Give It“
“Life or Death“
“So Long“
“Enemies“
“Bad News“
“Drunk in the Afternoon“
“Overrated“
“I ♥ My Guru“
“The Silver Hawaiian“
“Red Scare“
“Blacktop“
“On Your Way Down“
“Bury Me“

“Rude“
“Milquetoast“
“Sam Hell“
“Wilma's Rainbow“
“Ironhead“
“Just Another Victim“
“Unsung“
“Speechless“
“Turned Out“
“In the Meantime“

Local H’s set-list:
“Nothing Special“
“Cynic“
“User“
“Fritz's Corner“
“Paddy Considine“
“Stick to What You Know“
“Scott-Rock“
“Jesus Christ! Did You See the SIZE of That Sperm Whale?“
“The Misanthrope“
“Hands on the Bible“
“California Songs“
“That's What They All Say“

Car Seat Headrest, November 15, 2016 at the Teragram Ballroom

All I knew about Car Seat Headrest was that they/he was getting some love from KCRW and the name was fairly ridiculous. It could have been some indie rock that might have pulled me in at some point but I didn’t necessarily have a connection to it save from noticing they were playing it on the radio when they’d say they had. This was when indie was so obscure that any success no matter how minor was a big success, even if it didn’t mean that they could get out so far but they could fill a venue most of the way. So seeing them was a show that wasn’t sold out when schedules aligned. Just a Thursday night out with Tana and the drinkers, and drinks consumed, but not too much to get too rowdy, since that wasn’t the vibe anyway. It wasn’t too exciting, but it didn’t try to be, as the music was more grainy than peppy. Introducing a Leonard Cohen cover as an opener was a nice surprise (as a tribute after the legend’s passing or just a respectful part of the set), even better if it had been a more familiar song, but it was a promise of some pleasant, smart tunes ahead (from their newest album, Teens of Denial), even if they were forgettable later. And so it was a night at the indie-rock show in the indie venue and a stop along the way as the act got bigger (if slightly, if at all), but we can say we saw them when they soundtracked a night out and we could focus on our drinking.

Car Seat Headrest’s set-list:
“Field Commander Cohen“ (Leonard Cohen cover)
“Cosmic Hero“ (with Velvet Underground’s "Sweet Jane" interpolation)
“Fill in the Blank“
“Vincent“
“America (Never Been)“
“Unforgiving Girl (She's Not An)“
“Sober to Death“
“Strangers“
“Drunk Drivers/Killer Whales“
“Destroyed by Hippie Powers“

“Five Years“ (David Bowie cover)
“Connect the Dots (The Saga of Frank Sinatra)” (With Them’s "Gloria" outro)