So long blogger...

My new home on the web is here.

Everyone leave a note telling me that you've found me.

See you there.

Not much going on...

It's pretty boring over here in Bugg land. Some stuff to do around the house and nothing really happening in my professional life. It seems like everything is in this weird holding pattern. I'm getting ready to relaunch this blog at a new address within the next two weeks or so, and I just wanted to give everyone a heads up on it happening.

I'm probably not going to be writing as much about music. Instead, the blog will be a place to jot down thoughts, random observations and fun things I've found. I guess one of the reasons I've been neglecting this place is that my dedication to music has sort of stymied this blog. Soon, I'm going to have another place for that. So we'll see what happens.

I guess the question I have for everyone who reads this (and please do leave a comment, it only takes a second) is what do you come here for, the tunes or to hear what I'm up to? I'm interested. Let's turn this soapbox into a dialog.

I'm interested in finding out.

Until later, be good.

To boldly go where men (might have) gone before...

Star Trek. I'm not a big fan at all, but the prospect of the new movie being either awesome or sheer crap has me interested.

I have a few friends who are Star Trek enthusiasts and recently they showed me an episode called "The Balance of Terror".

It was actually a pretty good episode. There's a neat battle with the Romulans and some other cool stuff, with just enough of a cheesy sci-fi edge to it for me to enjoy on a couple of levels.

With that being said, there's a scene that is so homo erotic in the episode that I had to share it with you. (For the record, I'm not threatened or anything by homosexuality, but when it pops up in places I didn't expect it, I have a laugh).

The scene starts with Yeoman Rand is in the room serving Kirk tea, and he is really cold and distant towards her. The lighting in the room is red and weird and there is a palatable tension between the two. Just as Rand is leaving Bones walks into Kirk's quarters, the ship mates- obviously worried about Kirk's condition- give each other an unfriendly look, and then Bones starts staring at Kirk while the light switches to blue. Soft violin music begins and the doctor and the captain have an exchange that goes like this:

Kirk: I wish I were on a long sea voyage somewhere; not too much deck tennis, no frantic dancing – and no responsibility. Why me? I look around that bridge, I see the men waiting for me to make the next move. And Bones – what if I'm wrong?

Bones: Captain...

Kirk: No, I don't really expect an answer.

Bones: But I've got one; something I seldom say to a... customer, Jim. In this galaxy, there's a mathematical probability of three million Earth-type planets. And, in all the universe, three million million galaxies like this. And in all of that – and perhaps more – only one of each of us. . . Don't destroy the one named 'Kirk'.

What the hell is that? Seriously? Are they in love with each other? Is this a big swath of sixties melodrama? Someone explain this to me.

To prove that I'm not making this up, here's the clip of the scene in mp3 form.



Any help on this would be great.

Be good.

"A House Made of Music"

It's 3 pm on a Monday afternoon and my speaking voice sounds something like Rod Stewart, but not the good Rod Stewart. You know, the young and full of fire, hot and dating Britt Ekland and I'm sure they fuck a ton and he always has on a great scarf in 1976 Rod? That's not me. Instead, I sound a lot like the bloated and overly tan, having swilled one too many martinis with Ronnie Wood era Rod Stewart. Less "Hot Legs" and more "Fooled Around and Fell in Love". That's me.

The reason for today's inherent Rodness is because of Bruce Springstreen and the house rockin', pants droppin', booty shakin', earth quakin', Viagra takin', love makin' E Street Band in Greensboro (or as the sign says, Steensboro, North Carolina).

I had resigned myself due to poverty issues that I wasn't going to get to see The Boss this time around, and then last week through Facebook, a pair of tickets fell into my lap via a friend, and we had to go. So, with a few quick phone calls we were off to see what was Jessica's first Springsteen concert and my second one (and first one since 2003).

At first I was a bit nervous because the seats were not that great (the map on TicketMaster made the seats seem like they were behind the band and in the corner of the arena. I immediately had flashbacks of Van Halen at the Bobcats Arena in Charlotte, when the entire back was blocked by a curtain and no speakers we directed at us. Instead of seeing most of Van Halen's triumphant reunion I was subjected to views of their feet and the rattle of bass for almost an hour until I decided to move. This time, however I was surprised, not only were the seats within a decent vantage point of The Boss, but there were speakers for the people to the side and back of the stage, as well as video screens.

Just before the lights went out and the band hit the stage, a light-headed feeling came over me, like I was going to pass out. I was panicing for some reason, but just as the first wave of that subsided, the band came out, and the opening chords of "Badlands" began.

From that moment on, I was caught up in the moment. "Badlands" gave way to "Raise Your Hands" and I just kept rolling with the punches. The entire concert was like a great fight, with the crowd constantly challanging the band to hit harder, faster and more devastating punches all while Bruce kept responding with body blows and devastating combinations.

Even his newer material from the "Working on a Dream" album was decent, including a wonderful little speech he gave during the middle of the album's title song: he vowed that tonight in Greensboro, that the audience and the band were going to work together to create something. They were going to take the old and replace it with the new. They were going to replace fear with hope, worry with promise, hate with love, and dread with joy. They were going to build a house made of music. Sure it's hysteronics, but the best rock n' roll is often built off of that.

Halfway through the show and I'm exhausted already. Jay Weinberg (Max Weinberg's son, who will be filling in for him when he goes on to The Tonight Show this summer) played the front half and encores of the show, and the band was looser, but harder rocking, thanks to Jay's Dave Grohl inspired druming. When Max finally appeared on stage, the band played tighter and dipped into their lesser known stuff, and Max showed off his more finesse-based drumming.

As the show worn on, I was impressed by Bruce's ability to turn a basketball arena into a tiny club. I suppose that's all a cliche by now, but it's beyond true. Bruce played to the entire room, going to all sides of the arena on just about every song, pointing at people in the crowd and interacting with them. As Jessica noted later, the guy is a showman and really knows how to work a crowd.

For me, one of the highlights of the night was seeing the "stump the band" segment. Some people have loved it, while some hated, but I thought that Bruce going around the arena and taking signs with song titles on it from fans was great. The two covers ("7th Son" and "Hang on Sloopy") were tremendous. He kept saying that they were the world's greatest bar band, and he proved it for me in Greensboro.

Just as soon as the concert bagan, the chords to "Born to Run" rang out. I remember being blown away that the song came before the encore. There couldn't be even more left in the tank, but somehow there was.



Encore songs included "Thunder Road", "Tenth Avenue Freeze Out" and "Glory Days", which were all pretty incredible. I left the show sweaty and tired. I have no idea how the band does it every night.

But they do. That's the biggest thing I took away from seeing Springsteen is how vital this guy still is. Sure his records are hit and miss, but the quality of his shows are legendary, and for good reason. I'd put any bad Springsteen show up against any good-to-great show by the current crop of rock stars. He's that good.

With that being said, I'd sure like my voice back.

I'm going to work on that, but until later, be good.

Project Fridays: Ladies' Night.

In an effort to both drive up the commenting here at the Bugg Blog as well as to completely rip off two blogs that I love, The Driftwood Singers Present and I am Fuel-You are Friends, I will now be highlighting music that I love and that people should hear every Friday, weather and real life permitting. Songs that as my girlfriend says are "the undiscovered, the rediscovered, the recently uncovered and a few that should stay under the covers." As a disclaimer for those with prying eyes, I am not a fan of illegally downloading music, so the songs I highlight will be songs from albums that I have bought and paid for and are to be downloaded for demonstration only. If any lawyer type wants me to take the song down, feel free to shoot me a line.


I realized the other day that I have (for over a year now) be woefully neglecting songs featuring women taking a prominent role as the lead. I feel horrible about this, and I'm going to make a conscious effort into appreciating the ladies a little more often.

I suppose the problem is that with a lot of female singers, and this is just my opinion, a lot of them don't really grab me while listening. I appreciate them and can understand their talent, but some part of me never really is taken by their voice or attitude.

But then this week I heard Betty Davis. Before you start thinking of the actress, look up the singer. She had a pretty interesting career and some rather famous associates, Hendrix and Miles Davis (her ex husband) being two. But unlike Anne Heche (for example), who somehow earned respect as an actress because of who she was screwing, Davis has personality in her music and in her voice. Her music is bold, raw, playful, feminine, and pretty damn crazy.

Instead of a polished Diana Ross sheen, or the straight out of the pulpit sounds of Aretha Franklin, Davis' music was crazier, funkier and pretty darn comparable to that patron saint of hipster music, Captain Beefheart.

Like the Captain, Davis' music boiled itself down to it's essentials; a drum break, a bass fill, a scream, a chant, and then proceeded to make an entire song out of it. Although Beefheart did this with bare bones blues music, Davis used slippery seventies funk to make this music happen. The results are pretty darn impressive. The music staggers, stutters, steps back and lurches forward alternately, all with her manic yelps goading the song along to some sort of nirvana. I'm not sure what it is that I'm hearing, but I love it. It's vital, funky and makes me feel alive, which last time I checked was the criteria for great music.

But don't take my word for it, instead here's Betty Davis doing "He Was a Big Freak"

Betty Davis- He Was a Big Freak




But I'm not done, people. Just to give you a frame of reference on the Beefheart comparison, here's the Captain doing "Run Paint Run Run". While they don't sound exactly alike, they are similar in approach.

Captain Beefheart and the Magic Band- Run Paint Run Run



Check back in tomorrow for a special Project Saturdays, but until then be good.

(also, leaving a few comments wouldn't hurt)

Borthday

Relationships began under duress never apparently have staying power, at least that's what numerous armchair Dr. Phil's out there will tell you. But sometimes friendship under duress is where the mettle is tested. Last year, I learned a lot about friendship.

I was coming out of a marriage fizzling and dying at my feet, losing just about everything I owned, rejecting my notion of who I wanted to be and what that person wanted out of life, trying to deal with the emotional fallout of all of those things, trying to get up the courage to press reset on my life at 30 years old, and falling in love with what has turned out to be the lady of my dreams. Through all of that stuff- the good, the bad and the bullshit there was Bort.

We lived together after my divorce, and if I can be rather idealistic I'd say we were both reeling. While I was going through all of these recent things, Bort was just beginning to deal with some old wounds and move on with his life. Maybe it was because I was there and he wasn't alone in that big house, or maybe because it was time to move on, Bort got by, and because of Bort being there, I didn't figure out a way to blow my brains out.

Most nights we ordered pizza, sat and got drunk, all while talking about everything from the profound to the inane, and we did it with a smile on our faces. Some nights we argued when one of us was being a prick, but for the most part we got along famously.

Today I live 45 miles away from the guy, and we don't hang out as much as we did then. To do that would be impossible and at this point faking it on some level. Instead, we are both in new places, trying to figure out what happens next in our lives. But we're still buddies. He's still my best friend on the planet, and today is his birthday.

On a Bort's Borthday we do many things, we drink, we eat food cooked over a flame and we will tell dirty jokes. We will talk about tweeking nipples and whether a man can give himself a disease that he doesn't already have by ejaculating into himself. But most importantly we will have fun and laugh, because there's always time for that.

In a lot of ways my friends are my family. They took care of me when the proverbial dung hit the proverbial oscillating fan a year ago, which according to my introductory paragraph is the true test of a friendship. I don't want any of my friends to go through anything as hard as what I went through, but if they do, I'll be there to take care of them. That's what family does.

Although I don't think they'll want to go to Bonnaroo and be forced to sleep side by side in the back of a Subaru Impreza due to the crappy weather all while on mushrooms. But Bort and I did it, and we survived to tell about it. In fact, we took a video of it, and here it is:



Sure, it's some dumb shit, but it was awesome.

Happy Borthday Bort. I hope it's better for you than this pithy little blog post.

Expect a Project Fridays later today. Until then, be good.

Stuff's a happening

First off, here's a few articles that were published this week.

Against Me!

Brad Downs

So check those out.

In other news, my long threatened blog relaunch is picking up steam, which means that in a few short weeks, you people are going to have to update your browsers because this place is going the way of the dodo.

Writing work has slowed down a lot, but I keep plugging away. I'm probably going to have to go get a dreaded day job soon, but I hold out hope for more work. I've whined about how humiliating it is to beg for work from editors before so I'll spare you, but it doesn't get easier. Maybe a nice weekend away from my worries is what I need.

Luckily, that is happening this weekend. Friday is Bort's birthday (or his Borthday, as we call it) and I'm thinking that a trip out to his house and a chance to consume alcohol is just what I need. Then Saturday Jessica and I are going to see Bruce Springsteen in Greensboro. This I am excited for. It's my first Bruce show since '03 and Jessica's first show. Hopefully the seats (which by the looks of things appear to be a tad bit behind the stage) won't be too bad and we can dance our heads off.

Wednesday was supposed to be The Gaslight Anthem in Chapel Hill, but I'm not sure if that is going to happen. I don't really have anyone local to go with and it's kind of a crappy drive, but we'll see. If anything, maybe Jess and I could sneak into see The Presidents of the United States of America at the Orange Peel on the same night.

It's weird, I've been writing so much about music on here that I don't ever seem to write about me. I'm not paying as much attention to the words I use and how they go together. I think sometimes that learning to AP style and adhearing to it has striped part of my voice away. I like using cliches for some reason, and yet I have this subconcious need to shy away from them. I guess that is lazy and boring writing, but this is a blog- why waste my "A" material on you people?

Just kidding, I love you.

Except you. Yeah you. Go fuck yourself.

More real soon.

Be good.

Lou Barlow: The Bugg Blog Interview

Lou Barlow is the bass player for Dinosaur Jr. and when I was 17, I wanted to be him. His work with Sebadoh, a band that started off as a side project for Barlow and ended up as his full time gig inspired me. In the early nineties, it was the less macho version of that weird angsty metal that you here today. While Limp Bizkit made it okay for frat boys to talk about their feelings, Barlow's love songs and confessions of indie rock nerdom were little clues that it was okay for Pavement fans to have an inner James Taylor. I just dug him so much. Minor Threat was the soundtrack to my teenage rage, but Barlow's songs were the quiet little odes to the lovesick part of me.

When Dinosaur Jr. came to Asheville in November of 2007, I immediately jumped at the chance to interview the guy. After all, he was one of my heroes.

When both the paper I pitched the article to (the Mountain Xpress, back when they had an editor that cared about music and not about being nice to people at parties) and the band's publicist agreed to let me interview Barlow I was beyond excited. I managed to breathe slowly and speak clearly enough for him to understand. The interview turned from a puff piece about Dinosaur Jr.'s then brand new album Beyond and into a fan just asking questions about the minutia of Barlow's past, and to his credit he didn't mind.

So this may be a bit self indulgent, but it's worth it. I present to you, straight outta '07, the Bugg Blog interview with Lou Barlow.

Bugg: Hey how are you doing?

Barlow: Doing well.

Bugg: First of all thanks for doing this, you have no clue how big of a fan I am. This might turn into me gushing over you, and I apologize for that.

Barlow: No problem.

Bugg: The last time you were in town you did an in store at a place called Harvest Records, and I think I made you cry, and I just want to apologize for that.

Barlow: You made me cry?

Bugg: Yeah, I requested "Think (Let Tomorrow Be)" and you said in the middle of the song that you had just ran into the person who you wrote that song about in D.C. and you got really embarrassed. I just wanted to apologize for that. It seemed like an awkward moment for you.

Barlow: (lauging) Dude, I don't remember, oh my god.

Bugg: I think the first thing you said when you got on stage was like 'This is my worst fear: being stoned and embarrassed in front of everyone" and I felt like I contributed to the one that you don't want to contribute to versus the one that I should have tried to contribute to.

Barlow: Oh god. I remember that. I'm kind of a veteran at that stuff and I don't really get that rattled. But I was kind of in Dinosaur Jr. mode and switching gears was pretty hard. I seem to remember having a good time, though. It was pretty intense.

Bugg: I've been a fan of yours since I was around 15 years old. I've followed your work with Dinosaur and Sebadoh, and I'm pretty familiar with all of the stories about the dynamic that you and J. seem to have, and I'm wondering now that the band is back together is it one of those 'we're older and wiser' things- like the animosity has mellowed out or is it still there?

Barlow: The dynamic is still there, I think that we've mellowed though. I think we decided that we can deal with it. I think we've both been through enough to know that musical chemistry is a pretty important thing. I'm very comfortable with the relationship that I have with J., as ambiguous as that may be.

Bugg: J's a drummer by nature, according to everything that I've read. I remember hearing that there was always tension in the band because he would record demos of the songs with the drums exactly how he wanted them played in the band-

Barlow: Yeah, he did that while I was in the band too.

Bugg: Really?

Barlow: Towards the end, yeah sure.

Bugg: Is he still doing that with Murph now?

Barlow: He's doing the same thing. It's okay. Their dynamic is pretty crazy too, because J knows what he wants Murph to play and then it becomes like a familiar and very drawn out process of J communicating what he needs from Murph. When you have in your head what you want the drums to be you can't just play a CD for someone and have them learn it. Well you can, but those people are called studio drummers, and Murph is a real drummer. He's a real, self taught fuckin' drummer. You have to match what J wants with his own sometimes idiosyncratic rhythms and how Murph learns them. It's really incredible. It can take a really long time or it can take ten minutes if J sits down and shows Murph what he wants. J. is just sort of adverse to making things simple (laughs).

Bugg: When I saw you guys on the reunion tour and the volume of the show, and I'm not saying this in some curmugeonly 'turn it down, kids' way, was almost like a fourth member of your band. The more I hear about your band when they first got together I keep hearing that the volume was a big part of it even back then. Why is that?

Barlow: J has this thing, and it's kind of what Wayne Coyne from the Flaming Lips has, it's a similar philosophy, it's like make it fuckin' loud! and that's where they started from. Make it loud because that's what people want. Not only because that's what people want, but also because I think that a lot of J's formitive experiences with music was going to see music and getting his fucking ass kicked by a really loud band.

Bugg: How was it coming from doing a Sebadoh tour to doing a Dinosaur tour? I know you guys had a period where you were loud, but nowhere near as loud as Dinosaur.

Barlow: Fuck no, we played at half the volume and we're still loud.

Bugg: How is that juxtaposition?

Barlow: I can't hear anything when it's that loud. But it has to be that way. With J and Murph and the way that I learned those songs, so much of it is based on the physical part of it. It's like a set of muscles, it's really physical. With something like Sebadoh, it's pretty breezy in comparison. There's a lot of me looking at the other guys in the band, keeping things simple. Sebadoh is really loose and to be loud would kind of destroy that dynamic that we have in the band.

Bugg: How do you balance your writing for Dinosaur, your solo stuff, or Sebadoh?

Barlow: I kind of found a while ago, and its just started to sink in, that the more people I write with the better the songs that I'm writing are. We worked on the Dinosaur album for a little while, and it was kind of taking shape with just J's songs, but I kind of felt like I had something in me to contribute. I wanted to write something so that Murph could write his own beats and I'm going to write it from the ground up. Then we'll bring J into it when I have some structure. Then when I got home from writing with Dinosaur I started four tracking. I really felt like texturally that I was going through a good spot. I'm starting to rediscover texture because Dinosaur is about texture, and some of my old stuff was also. But when I was writing on my own I really started to rediscover that, and it made it interesting.

Bugg: You had your background in hardcore, but Dinosaur seemed like a hardcore band that was filtered through seventies rock. How much of what you guys did in the beginning was a reaction against hardcore?

Barlow: Hardcore was becomming very structured, but I was also 17 at the time, so my mind was opening up. There was so much great college radio at the time where I lived. We were really into buying records and mail ordering records so naturally at that time, there was so much stuff like The Birthday Party, The Cure, Joy Division and all of this other stuff. I always just kind of thought of us as really open minded about music and not sticking to something primative like punk. Hardcore was so unimaginative and just not doing it for me.

Bugg: It seems like people either thought that punk was something very fluid that could change or this rigid thing that said it was about growth and change but in reality was very ritualistic.

Barlow: There's also this metal thing, I think in '85 there was the rise of Metallica and all of these metal bands that were really great. It was a great time to listen to that stuff.

Bugg: Do you think anything like that's happening today?

Barlow: I think it's one big cluster fuck.

Bugg: Is it harder to spot the great bands that are out there?

Barlow: Not for me. The Walkmen are a band that are totally a great band. They are great live and they put out really interesting, progressive records, and are experimenting constantly. Sometimes the tendency is to know that there isn't anything great out there, but then it doesn't take me long to think of something that is great. Like Panda Bear from the Animal Collective. His latest album is really creative, probably one of the most creative albums I've heard, it's so fucking great. I can always find something that I love. I'm not nostalgic for any time, when Dinosaur was starting or Sebadoh, I don't think of those as great times, just times.

Bugg: Well Dinosaur came out in that really awesome time for SST, and then Sebadoh came in during a pretty fruitful time for indie rock, so you rode two seperate waves in.

Barlow: I know, it was really cool. I was really fortunate to be involved in the times I was. I was fortunate to be making music and interested in music at the time.

Bugg: Back to Dinosaur- you and J took a few potshots at each other back in the 90s, was coming back together harder because of that?

Barlow: Not really. We just thought if we're going to set it aside, we're going to set it aside. I can't say, I'm going to play with you but I'm still made about this. I mean you just have to put it aside or not do it.

Bugg: Is it weird that when you left the band you were this underground thing, and now you are back and playing talk shows and stuff?

Barlow: Not really, because J built a following in the 90s. He had some crossover hits. He did really well in the 90s. Because of that and those audiences that he built up they care about the band. But I'm not surprised by the reception we've been getting. If The Pixies can get together and make millions of dollars playing shows then there is no reason Dinosaur can't get together and play a few packed shows.

The band is really good, the records have a lot of integrity and the music is pretty good. There's no reason why we can't play some shows.

Bugg: Thanks for your time, man

Barlow: Thank you.

As an added bonus, I want to include one of my favorite songs from Lou's early days with Sebadoh, "Soulmate". It's a fun little song that spoke to the 17 year old in me.

Sebadoh- Soulmate"



More later.

Until then, be good.