Making stuff as a founder of Avocado. Former music-maker. Tuna melt advocate. Started Google Reader. (But smarter people made it great.)

The life of a modern musician: a week of noisepop. "Siren song."

the life of a modern musician: a week of noisepop.


The conversation season. It starts today.

Where people In The Biz begin an assessment. Where you are. Where you're going. Where you fit on the scale, on the rack, in the press.

The nice thing? It's only a small effect for us. For others, it will be their waking life for the next few nights. They won't walk from one room to the next. Instead, they'll navigate it. They'll be reminded, superficially, of the Afghan desert. Full of land mines.

Chris and I start out at the Hemlock. Hang out with Lunchbox and read each other our blurbs from the festival supplement. Enjoy Tim Scanlin's brief retrospective. Then we all say things like "don't get me wrong, of course, the Kinks kicked butt in their own way," and say them seriously.

Then I'm left, alone, to head to what I imagine will be the most crowded show at this festival: Death Cab For Cutie, Dismemberment Plan, Aveo, and The Velvet Teen.

And I'm extremely excited. Just! because.

I have extra tickets. I intend to give them away. I'm going to be surprised at the end of the night when I still have them.

Been to Bimbo's before? For a popular show? And tried to park? Here's a suggestion. Self-colonoscopy. Same difficulty rating.

But somehow I get lucky.

I'm in. But I'm late, and I've missed the first two bands. Dismemberment Plan starts - I'm floored. I have "talent envy." There seems to be so much thought in detail and style to what they do. "Crammed with weird ideas," they say about themselves. Makes the music dense, like a fudge cake.

During their set...some people ask the famous "so when are you playing next?" question. After seeing D_ Plan's impressive performance, I kind of want to say, "Oh, we're not taking any / If we play again, the terrorists win / We're lying low after the surgery, but thanks." My conversation season ends when my co-worker grabs my shoulder, scares the hazaam out of me. Later, I wander around. Get teased by Matt, as I'm walking with my Palm Pilot taking notes.

Death Cab For Cutie. What do you want me to say? I think they write beautiful songs. Rapturous. And though it wasn't on tonight's set list, my favorite lyric that opens a song is still "I...think I'm drunk enough to" Well...judging by conversations I'd overheard, it seems they still inspire diverse and extreme reactions, such as: "I don't get why people love them" and "They're touching and I can't explain that to my friends."

Puzzlingly, I withdrew in the middle of their set. Marvelled at the sea theme that suffuses Bimbo's interior. Parrots, seascapes, schooners, and mermaids. Hmm. Siren song. Lure and desire and music. And I'm standing in a club, looking at this mermaid and waiting. For a second, I think I came close to figuring something out. Something...


But someone starts the conversation circus and I realize I have to totally fix that link color bug tomorrow.

Second chance - From what I understand, the mermaid may still be there on Sunday.

Posted at February 27, 2002 02:54 AM
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"The life of a modern musician: a week of noisepop. "Pleading the fifth.""