Uphill and Against the Wind
Wow, March seems so long ago and yet seems like last week. The last couple of bands I got to see live were good ol' standbys: Silk Torpedo and the Mod Violets, and I had no clue that night jut how much I take these bands -- or any live band -- for granted.
And the night before that I wandered out to Kochanski's Concertina Beer Hall, for a rescheduled (actually moved) session with the delightfully off kilter Honolulu Millionaires. Since it was literally a last minute move from another venue, and since it wasn't their usual haunt (they're normally in Trader Nick's South Shore Inn) it wasn't exactly a packed house -- more like a Jorin Family Reunion. That's not a bad thing: everybody in the Jorin family has always made me feel welcome, so I was good. The Honolulu Millionaires play, as you might guess, Hawaiian-inspired music, complete with lap steel guitar, ukeleles. And oh yeah, animatronic parrots singing Hawaiian pop lounge music. As I'd posted that night, I felt like I'd been dropped into a SpongeBob episode directed by a tag team of John Waters and David Lynch. At the time, I could only shake my head at how surreal it all felt.
But as we all now know, I had absolutely no clue just how surreal our lives were about to get in the following weeks. Six feet distances. Working from home. Online "concerts" from people's houses.
Especially for bands who'd spent the winter recording new material, and were ready to release it at some kind of grand "album release party" where we'd show up, enjoy the live show, pick up a copy of the new release and savor it on the way home from the show. And for those bands, a bit of income to offsset the expenses involved with going into the studio. So, this has been a bit of a issue for me, as this blog has generally been about the joy of live music. I think I'm going to focus on those bands who had recordings ready to go, and this whole COVID thing put the kibosh on a grand release party. Thing is, I generally don't listen to music at home unless it's background for something else I'm doing. The times when I really listen to recorded music is when I'm working out. It takes my mind off the fact that my heart is working harder than usual and thus, I get a better (read: longer) workout. Especially on bike rides. (And yes, I don't use noise cancelling headphones, in fact, I put them in loosely so I can hear traffic and other warnings. It's no louder or against my hearing than what I'd have in the car. I can have a conversation and I've been doing this for years). Usually I plan my playlist (and my ride) to have appropriate tunes during the harder parts and such. But since I went into the following not knowing what I was in for, I just plopped these on my playlist and headed out last weekend.
My ride -- and listening -- started out uphill and against the wind. Perfect. I think that's how we're all feeling about this entire situation. And it turns out the releases that came out helped considerably with that fighting every mile against some force of nature I think we're feeling.
Let's start going up 13th Street, up that hill south of Kosciusko Park, with Devil Met Contention's new EP, Wait. And of course, I downloaded it in reverse order, so didn't get the "single" (and and title cut) first. No, I started with "New York," a gentle warmup to the 50K I ended up riding. It's a song that didn't have the hustle and bustle of New York, but more a very late night subway ride. It could have been the soundtrack for that scene near the end of "Saturday Night Fever" where Travolta's character is riding the rails, trying to figure out where the hell his life is going. "Neon" took me through that double climb up the 6th Street bridges over the valley. The song starts off as a gentle waft (like the descent down the first bridge) but then as if on cue, a scorching guitar and soulful voice helped me up the next hill, descending into downtown, and then that long, sustained brutal climb up to Pleasant Street. My reward for that climb turned out to be "Neighborhood Lights" a melancholy romance of a song ("Say you love me with your hands at your sides...") as I cruised downhill through Schlitz Park and along the river. So it was perfect that as I approached Riverwest via the Beerline/OakLeaf trail the pop hit of the title track had me serpentining (to avoid hikers who may or may not have been 6 feet away) to the sway of the dancable track. I get that since it's the more uplifting pop song, the band led with that on the EP, but I actually preferred this reverse order, which left me happy and smiling after a both a physical and emotional rollercoaster.
Go to Bandcamp and get "Wait" this weekend while all fees are going directly to the artists.
The first time I saw Devil Met Contention it was a double bill with The Cow Ponies, so it was perfect that they happened to have a new release ready for my ride as well. I cued it up across the Locust Street bridge, and then down to the Oak Leaf Trail. I'm trying to avoid regular trails so that I can avoid other people (again, God help us all if folks can get a clue what 6 feet means), but some spots are unavoidable. On the other hand, it was nice to see people, see human beings, and the Cow Ponies helped me enjoy a fairly flat straightaway with "All Summer Long" (it bears no resemblance to the Beach Boys tune, which would have been a little too much at this point). Robin Graham's voice is almost wistful as she reminisces the joys of a beautiful sunny day and the song's steady uptempo drive meshed with a good cycling cadence. It was followed by "Seaside Honeymoon," which in retrospect, I wished I had on when I eventually followed the lakefront downhill. Robin's voice hits some windy highnotes while the song takes you on a road trip. You're not on the honeymoon yet -- you're on your way there: making this the kind of song you want to put on the car stereo, driving down the freeway with the windows down. This makes sense since guitarist John Graham is a professional driver -- I can picture long hauls, either with or longing for the one you love in the seat next to you, with sneaky little guitar runs peeking out from the car's speakers. Looking forward to more of this kind of stuff from the Cow Ponies, who are branching out from Americana to just American music in general. They haven't released this wide yet, but I suspect it will be on Soundcloud shortly.
By the time I was ready to go southbound, I knew I needed something driving and scorching, and without even thinking twice, I cued up Devil's Teeth's "Drop Down Gator" and put the hammer down from UWM down to the Lakefront. As usual, it was spellbinding, dangerous and fun. The ride or the song? Both. Here's the video.
So, this coming weekend I'm queuing up the latest from Liam Ford, Brett Newski, and I'm also looking forward to the recording Chief is about to drop. Thinking of a south side ride, or maybe a hike in the Kettle Moraine. That's about the closest I can get to leaving the house to hear new music.
But as we all now know, I had absolutely no clue just how surreal our lives were about to get in the following weeks. Six feet distances. Working from home. Online "concerts" from people's houses.
Especially for bands who'd spent the winter recording new material, and were ready to release it at some kind of grand "album release party" where we'd show up, enjoy the live show, pick up a copy of the new release and savor it on the way home from the show. And for those bands, a bit of income to offsset the expenses involved with going into the studio. So, this has been a bit of a issue for me, as this blog has generally been about the joy of live music. I think I'm going to focus on those bands who had recordings ready to go, and this whole COVID thing put the kibosh on a grand release party. Thing is, I generally don't listen to music at home unless it's background for something else I'm doing. The times when I really listen to recorded music is when I'm working out. It takes my mind off the fact that my heart is working harder than usual and thus, I get a better (read: longer) workout. Especially on bike rides. (And yes, I don't use noise cancelling headphones, in fact, I put them in loosely so I can hear traffic and other warnings. It's no louder or against my hearing than what I'd have in the car. I can have a conversation and I've been doing this for years). Usually I plan my playlist (and my ride) to have appropriate tunes during the harder parts and such. But since I went into the following not knowing what I was in for, I just plopped these on my playlist and headed out last weekend.
My ride -- and listening -- started out uphill and against the wind. Perfect. I think that's how we're all feeling about this entire situation. And it turns out the releases that came out helped considerably with that fighting every mile against some force of nature I think we're feeling.
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| Devil Met Contention -- back when we could see them live with matching sharkskin suits..... |
Go to Bandcamp and get "Wait" this weekend while all fees are going directly to the artists.
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| Half ofThe Cow Ponies -- at that same show as a matter of fact |
By the time I was ready to go southbound, I knew I needed something driving and scorching, and without even thinking twice, I cued up Devil's Teeth's "Drop Down Gator" and put the hammer down from UWM down to the Lakefront. As usual, it was spellbinding, dangerous and fun. The ride or the song? Both. Here's the video.
So, this coming weekend I'm queuing up the latest from Liam Ford, Brett Newski, and I'm also looking forward to the recording Chief is about to drop. Thinking of a south side ride, or maybe a hike in the Kettle Moraine. That's about the closest I can get to leaving the house to hear new music.
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