Okkervil River’s ‘I Am Very Far’ vs. Schlafly’s AIPA
I haven’t done one of these reviews in a while. In fact, I once thought I’d do them all the time, but the timing just never worked. There have been a lot of records to review recently, but beer has been neglected. The recent arrival of Okkervil River’s new album and Schlafly’s AIPA came at the perfect time for me to throw down one of these ill-conceived reviews. I won’t bore you with the old template. Instead, I’ll bore you through my prose.
Why these two in this particular challenge? Well, aside from the timing of their releases, both record and beer share a decidedly American aesthetic. And in this time when America feels particularly good about itself, celebrating things that are very American just seems like the right thing to do. Okkervil River with its take on Americana and Schlafly’s attempt to make a big IPA like every other American craft brewer connect these two loves of mine, but which one wins out in the end?
I Am Very Far is not what we’d expect from Okkervil. It’s slick without losing heart. The emphasis is on the sound and production over the words, yet it’s impeccably written. Even the emotive qualities of a typical Okkervil record are absent without the album being dull and dry. It’s a great record without being a great Okkervil River record.
When I think of their progression, I think of a few other bands with similar trajectories. Bright Eyes’ Conor Oberst is a lot like Okkervil’s Will Sheff in that they are the primary piece in bands that feature the most confessional lyrics delivered in the most recognizable of voices. However, Sheff has placed more burden on a band that has not changed as much as Bright Eyes.
My Morning Jacket also comes to mind as a similarly positioned alt.country act that tried to step out with a new sound. In my opinion, MMJ flopped with Evil Urges, an album that saw the band take a major leap in aesthetic. It may or may not have sold well and did decently with the critics, but the project seemed to dash a lot of the momentum the band was building. Conversely, Okkervil River scores a huge success that both achieves a new direction without changing who Okkervil River is.
One cannot use the phrase “wall of sound” too often when describing this album. Will Sheff put his efforts into the production end rather than weaving intricately detailed narratives throughout his songs. The lyrical content is not lacking, but it’s not the typical, literary Sheff we’re used to. Where Fleet Foxes made the leap forward by saying something pointed and specific, Okkervil River made a similar leap by withholding some information. And this slick production is surprising for a band known more for folksiness and emotion-laced tales of woe. This is not your father’s confessional emo/alt.country.
Schlafly’s American India Pale Ale takes a similar path to enjoyment. It’s not the hop bomb so many us become accustomed to when there’s a yearly release featuring a hop-forward style. The American craft brew industry prides itself on upping the IBU ante with each new release, but this beer didn’t participate in such a hoppy arms race. Nope. The ABV in this year’s batch is actually lower than last year’s and the hop bill was also altered.
The AIPA has a few peers in these parts. There’s Bell’s notorious Two Hearted Ale with it’s Centennial-induced bitterness that packs quite the wallop when fresh. There’s also cross-state rival Boulevard Single-Wide IPA and its decidedly dry finish. Although all three are in the same category, none are exactly alike. Schlafly’s AIPA is sort of sweet at first taste. There’s certainly a bitter finish, but the middle is lacking that intense strain often associated with an American IPA. As the beer warms, however, a complexity is revealed. The aroma is straight-up hop pellets (so says the homebrewer) which is always pleasing to the nose.
Schlafly’s yearly stab at an American craft beer classic may not be the most overwhelming beer out there, but it’s balance is something sorely lacking in today’s market. Although not the hop bomb I expected upon first sip, the beer expands and satisfies as it warms. It’s not your everyday American India Pale Ale, but it’s a good one nonetheless.
Both the Okkervil River album and Schlafly AIPA surprised by not meeting my American expectations, but that might have been the most American thing to do. If there’s one thing people do in this country when perfecting their craft, it is doing the unexpected with said craft, pushing expectations. Sometimes those expectations are pushed to extremes where the product no longer resembles the original. In the case of this record and this beer, the product resembles the original in ways we did not expect. Okkervil River didn’t make another emo rock opera over folksy guitars and Will Sheff whines. Schlafly didn’t overdo it with the hops. Instead, both made calculated moves in creating balanced, enjoyable final products I will continue to enjoy.
Who wins this round? I call it a draw. The lesson I learned to not expect the expected from American craft means that we all win or something equally cheesy.
*Sorry for the lack of footnotes, footnote fans. Familial duties didn’t leave time for such supplements. Maybe next time. I also had no time to read this over. Make revision/editing comments below or just tell me what you generally think.
CoMusic Review: Ptarmigan – The Forest Darling
Here’s a review I wrote last week that was published over the weekend. I originally intended to have a beer post up, but Mother’s Day was a long day and left me without much time, energy, or motivation to finish the post. As you can see, I’m getting pretty deep into the local scene here as promised. It’s really sparked my overall interest in music lately. Surprisingly, it’s actually inspired me more when listening to new music by decidedly non-local bands. Still, there’s some good stuff here that stands on its own. The following review is no joke. Ptarmigan’s record is great, even if it doesn’t come in vinyl.
How is it that our little college town is blessed with so much great musical talent? Depending on your perspective, as long as these bands keep making music and don’t tour, they should remain our little secret forever. However, if a band like Ptarmigan takes their latest album, The Forest Darling, on the road, we won’t be seeing much of them anymore.
The Forest Darling is as good a record as I’ve heard this year. The trio pull from a wide array of influences to form a rather coherent eleven-song album that you should really check out. Those influences? The ones I hear and have read about include but are not limited to Peruvian forest sounds, early Modest Mouse, Born Ruffians, and The Flaming Lips. So, one can instantly see the appeal this record carries.
“Stillborn Kings” opens straight outta a mid-nineties Flaming Lips release before picking up the pace. The layered vocals create depth and complexity that is almost otherworldly. The song varies the tempo and has several pieces, all before building to a big crescendo and revealing some pretty fat/phat bass lines.
A steady groove carries “Where” with guitar licks floating just above the surface. Again, layers of vocals add to the overall musicality of the track. The bass lines really take hold in this track, revealing another aspect not often heard from a band that doesn’t include Mike Watt in their roster. There’s even some synthesized sounds in there that could easily make room for a horn section, demonstrating a rather high amount of diversity in just one track.
“Of the Hills and the Hurt” is a babbling brook. Intricate guitar noodling, keyboard flourishes, and tinny sounds I can’t quite place fill much of the space. Then, some noise comes just after the quiet, before settling into intricacies again.
The bass leads the way in “Primrose and Snapdragon” as sparse drumming joins the fray before some pretty ascorbic guitar work, falsetto, and a loud quiet dynamic that never grows old. To this point, this is the album’s shining, mid-tempo rocker du jour.
The somewhat bluesy “We the Forest” utilizes a nice start/stop dynamic that isn’t prevalent enough in rock music. This track is the most outward in regards to the forest theme with both its content and some well-placed bird samples. Maybe Patarmigan and Believers should get together for a bird sample competition. If you begin to notice a trend of bird noise in music, know that it started here in Columbia.
“Delta” is heavy on falsetto a la Caribou and some rock guitarin’ fun. So far, so good.
“The Quadrille” starts with hiking in the night forest before going all ragtag on you. Honestly, it’s my least favorite track of a stellar collection, but it also happens to be the most ambitious of the set. So, for that reason, they get kudos for taking some chances. Like most great music, it’s more interesting than bad. Certainly, this song deserves more discussion than this one paragraph.
“Sentient” opens like Clap Your Hands Say Yeah doing their best Cure impersonation and blows up into a Born Ruffians romp. If I haven’t convinced you yet to download this record, nothing will. This track is a real dancer as the guitar moves your feet and the bass your ass.
The best parts of Interpol are realized on the intro to “My Mind Bleeds” just before bassist and vocalist Peter Marting breaks in with some Denielson-esque whining. Guitarist Evan Walton actually carries this track with his dreamy guitar playing and drummer Ted Carstensen dutifully backs up as he does his best Jeremiah Green impersonation. Of all the tracks, musically this one reminds me most of early Modest Mouse.
“Migratory” starts with what sound like thunderstorms and some light acoustic guitar strumming. The dual vocals singing about a “southern feeling” are a nice touch that add more depth to a subtly great track. The song really picks up halfway through, complete with handclaps.
“Metronome” is a perfect ending to a great album. A slow build into a disco beat and quick tempo moves along until finally decomposing into a nice dance/rock song. The song breaks into a whole second part that just drives and grooves with subtle piano bits in the background.
This record is loaded with imagery and sounds from that aforementioned Peruvian forest. Sometimes it’s subtle, sometimes in your face. The aesthetic certainly pulls the entire piece together the way a good album should. Additionally, the multilayered vocal tracks and the up-front bass sets this record apart from many a indie rock release.
Ptarmigan demonstrate why three is a good number for a band. There’s balance between the three musicians in ability and dynamic. This is truly a gem that not enough people will hear and that’s okay with me. I like keeping local treasures a secret. However, I doubt they’ll stay that way for long if they keep putting out records like The Forest Darling.
Try a sample: Stillborn Kings (MP3)
Buy it: Bandcamp
Fleet Foxes – Helplessness Blues
Helplessness Blues, the Fleet Foxes’ sophomore effort, is the best folk record you’ve heard since…well…the last Fleet Foxes’ record[1]. It’s hard to fathom that such a decidedly uncool genre can occupy such a cool space in music. I credit Fleet Foxes’ craftsmanship[2] and their filling a need in music for this sort of thing. Plus, they have breathed fresh air into a genre that desperately needed it.
What is also unique is that Fleet Foxes continue Sub Pop’s evolution into a label that matches the preferences of their ever-aging audience. It’s completely fathomable to imagine old grunge dudes hanging around a campfire singing folk songs instead of “Touch Me I’m Sick.” Let’s just hope Fleet Foxes don’t go down the same road as their label mates Iron & Wine[3]. Helplessness suggests that won’t happen.
The biggest difference this time around for FF is movement away from a dependency on harmonies to carry their songs[4]. The harmonies are still there; they’re just not the dominant component anymore. This record is chocked full of varying instrumentation that borders on over-saturation without boring the listener[5]. Quite the contrary, in fact, the instrumentation proves that these young men are more than the collective effect of their voices. Not only is the instrumentation varied, but it is brought to the forefront as way to enrich the band’s sound.
Another area in which this Fleet Foxes’ album expands upon the last is in the development of frontman Robin Pecknold. As I listened to Helplessness, I couldn’t help but notice that one voice was rising above the others. It’s no secret that Pecknold has a pretty incredible voice, but this record features him more prominently than the last. There is even a point when his voice cracks a bit under the strain of emotion (“The Shrine/An Argument”)[6].
Then, there is Pecknold’s development as a songwriter. Lyrically, Fleet Foxes have typically been more impressionistic, vague, or even obtuse. However, this time out, Pecknold makes the narrative and emotions perfectly clear with great detail. The moment of uncertainty for a man between his youth and adulthood is pronounced throughout Helplessness, but Pecknold is the one who makes this crystal clear through his poetic tales.
“Montezuma” opens the record the way the debut left us with a lush[7] soundscape of voices over light instrumentation. However, the tenor of this album is much more somber and this is no more apparent in this album than on the first track. The realization of that purgatory between childhood and adulthood is fully apparent. The only thing that gets him through is to sing about it. And sing Robin Pecknold does.
With an arsenic violin break following the first verse, “Bedouin Dress” sets a new president instrumentally for Fleet Foxes. Pecknold’s seat atop the Fleet Fox mountain is apparent as this song feels as if it’s coming from him and the band dutifully backs him. The instrumentation is textured[8] and intricate without being showy or boring[9]. There’s a pace to this track that quickens the soul, something I don’t know I could have said on Fleet Foxes.
The band demonstrates that it’s more than echoey space as they fill every crack and crevice with voice and string on “Sim Sala Bim.” Even the quiet moments fill the speakers. Phil Eck[10] has truly outdone himself by capturing the echoes, ghosts, and every vibration created in every strum of a chord or harmonized word.
Speaking of echoes, “Battery Kinzie” displays a wall of sound that would have made Phil Spector proud. And above all that, Recknold’s words and voice stand out. That’s not to say the rest of the Foxes are useless. No. They fill the space that even Recknold’s voice cannot, accompanying their frontman as no one else could. Again, textures exist throughout. This track also displays how the harmonies have become the accompaniment to the FF sound and not the dominant characteristic.
“The Plains/Bitter Dancer” builds to some pretty epic proportions before breaking down into a classic Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young singalong. The tone is melancholy and moves at that new Fleet Foxes pace. Even the flute doesn’t make me wince at the folkiness. The second half mounts a gospel onslaught and almost blows the speakers. Almost.
The title track continues the theme of that quarter-life crisis[11] which is where I suppose the helplessness blues set in. Lost is the joy and naiveté of youth and in front lies the uncertainty of adulthood that does nothing but question one’s ideals. Recknold is spiraling through this song. I wondered if this sentiment grew immensely during the turbulent recording of the record. Things I’ve read say that the band had to scrap the first version of the album amidst illness and touring. Anyway, the song expresses a need to get lost in one’s work as a way to get past this critical point in development, just to find some peace.
“The Cascades” is a folky jam session that eventually gives way to the pageantry of “Lorelai,” a light, narrative of a devastating breakup, particularly as the words “I was old news to you then” are sung. Oddly, this sad, sad song is maybe the band’s poppiest to date. The sadness of a breakup continues with the somber-before-defiant “Someone You’d Admire.”
“The Shrine/An Argument” is the moment when Reckhold’s development as a singer comes through for me. He sings within himself before unleashing so much emotion that his voice gives under the pressure[12], just before he brings it together to harmonize perfectly with his band mates. Sure, in the recording process, this can be manufactured a bit, but it’s still impressive that they would try this live at some point[13]. This track is certainly one of the album’s most ambitious and challenging. The second half escalates almost to the point of an Animal Collective explosion, if that’s even possible in a folk song. The track closes with yet a third piece that is almost psychedelic, complete with a Coltrane-esque sax solo, brining this epic[14] track to conclusion.
“Blue-Spotted Tail” is the band’s Cat Stevens homage, unintentional or not. After the lushness and textured instrumentation of the rest of the record (along with the previous track’s experimentation), this song provides a bit of balance before the record closes for good with “Grown Ocean,” the closest the band comes to sounding rock ‘n roll. Still, the rolling nature of the track carries the listener from all the depths they’ve had to trudge in order to follow Fleet Foxes through meadows and mountains to the musical summit[15].
Fleet Foxes prove that expanding the prefect sound and putting out a sophomore record doesn’t have to mean death to a band. Helplessness Blues extend the Fleet Foxes legend and somehow makes it cool to listen to folk music again. Your mom might even like it[16].
Notes:
1This may or may not be true, but that first record stood out among so many others, regardless of genre.
2Here’s a recurring theme on the blog. I appreciate craftsmanship in its many forms.
3Iron & Wine is one of the great disappointments of the last decade. They started with such promise before Sam Beam went all Eagles on us.
4Don’t get me wrong. Those harmonies are some of the best in music, but they needed other components to their music.
5Sometimes too much is too much. I don’t know why it is, but some musicians and bands think adding more instruments is the way to improve the sound. However, twenty musicians overplaying mediocre music isn’t any better than three. Then, there are the exceptions. I still don’t know how Sufjan Stevens does it.
6I will bring this up again as it was a pretty significant moment for me in the record.
7I tried really hard to avoid the terms “lush” and “textured” in this review, but I can only do so much. For one, my vocabulary is limited. Second, I’m not paid to do this. So, you get what you get. Be on the lookout for a lush and textured review.
8See. I wasn’t kidding.
9There’s something about the technically proficient, showy, jammy bands that bore me to death. If I wanted to hear you masturbate, I’d put a mic in your bathroom. And that’s what it is (or can be): mental masturbation.
10Eck has been around forever producing and recording records in Seattle and throughout the Northwest. I think he’s had a hand in nearly every band I’ve ever liked from the region. He’s a vastly underrated record producer.
11A quarter-life crisis is what middle-to-upper-middle class white folk suffer from when they have too much education for the minimum wage jobs available to them. I hear it’s an epidemic. In a lot of ways, this album paints this issue in a serious light. The difference is that the boys in Fleet Foxes are doing something about it. They’re making music.
12I told you that I’d mention it again. Moments like these are important because they make the artist seem human, fallible. I don’t want a perfect recording. I prefer my music with imperfections like the people making the music.
13I get to see the band in July and hope to hear that same sort of performance then.
14Using the word “epic” to describe anything used to have meaning. Now, everyone overuses it. Not everything is epic. That’s why something is epic. Quit using the term to describe every night out, piece of bacon, or test. “Epic” is something bigger than life, huge. This is not a word to be used every day, hour, or sentence. God, I hate the internet sometimes.
15Talk about epic proportions and mental masturbation.
16That was my little segue into Mother’s Day weekend.
Upgrades in Production
One way bands try to evolve their sound is by upgrading their production. Some do this by hiring a better producer[1]. Another technique is to step into a higher-end studio. Pavement tried this on multiple occasions[2], but the songwriting and performances were the constant. So, even when a band makes this upgrade in production, they still have to bring solid songwriting and dynamic performances.
The Pains of Being Pure at Heart hired the legendary Flood as producer for their sophomore effort, Belong. The result is something closer to Siamese Dream-era Smashing Pumpkins rather than in-their-prime Smiths. Flood’s effect is striking and significant, but is it a good thing?
I don’t know that The Pains’ songwriting is up to the caliber of a Flood-produced record. That’s not to say that the music isn’t of high quality or that whatever Flood touches is gold. What it means is that this is a typical sophomore record to a pretty successful indie release. Debut records often capture the immediacy and naiveté of a young band, but follow-ups tend to come off as overly-calculated[3].
What the record does do is suggest a new direction or transition for the band. Left behind is Manchester jangle in favor of a bolder, sharper sound. Sadly, this kind of production is distracting to me[4]. I’ve had a hard time getting into the songs on Belong. The simplicity of The Pains of Being Pure at Heart’s debut doesn’t hold up to lush production like this. He isn’t called “Flood” for nothing as he fills every crack and crevice of tape with loads of sound and texture. It’s certainly an interesting album from an audiophile’s standpoint, but I’m struggling with the organic elements that seem to be missing.
Overproduction isn’t always the enemy. Wilco, Animal Collective, Destroyer, etc. have found ways to make it work, sometimes to the point of deconstruction[5]. However, these acts all have something The Pains lack: maturity. The band may sound like their from 80’s Manchester, but their songwriting suggests otherwise.
Conversely, Times New Viking actually stepped inside a recording studio for once and may have found a way to develop their material in a manner appropriate to their collective age. The band usually resorts to bedroom tapes and audio via VHS in the recording process as a way to include their fourth member, tape hiss[6]. For Dancer Equired, the Columbus, OH trio enlisted a real-life recording studio and the results are better than I expected.
Another legendary lo-fi band from Ohio once made a similar transition to a bigger, more polished studio sound with regrettable results. That band was Guided By Voices[7]. TNV has followed the GBV trajectory by putting out shitty recordings on a label specializing in lo-fi[8] before hitting the greener pastures at Matador. The two bands are often compared, but there is little similar outside of both bands being Buckeyes and famous for recording lo-fi gems galore.
Still, TVN’s decision to record like professionals was a good one. I always thought they had good songs, if you could hear them through fuzz and hiss. On Dancer Equired, the sound is certainly cleaned up, but it’s not a giant leap to Flood-like proportions that would have overwhelmed the band’s charm[9]. Instead, the minimal production feels right for this band. It’s a slow progression to accessibility that allows Dancer to be appreciated here, even if some would rather turn their back on the band[10].
Where The Pains made a quantum leap from recording studio to super-producer, Times New Viking simply left their bedroom for a recording studio. Little changed aside from that missing tape hiss I mentioned earlier. The recording is not that clean and the performance isn’t much cleaner, but the shimmer of good pop/punk rock is clearer than ever. This album is not a leap, a transition, or a shift for the band. It’s what they do, only you can actually hear it without distortion. And what I hear is what I always thought I was hearing: fucking great rock ‘n roll.
Some expected that Times New Viking would blow us away with epic songs over Flood-like production, but that’s not who they are. They’re from Ohio. That’s how we roll[11]. It’s not midwestern mediocre, it’s authentic. It’s good. Why mess with it? TNV will someday do a polished and epic studio album. It will either impress or tank. Until then, I’m confident that this is exactly the sort of album Times New Viking is built to record.
Don’t assume that just because I prefer Dancer Equired to Belong that I think less is better when it comes to sound production. There is a time and place for almost every band to go hi-fi or expand their studio horizons. Times New Viking understand where they are on that continuum. It made more sense for them to just get themselves into a studio, no need to overdo it. Alternately, The Pains of Being Pure at Heart overshot the mark with Flood behind the mixing board. They’ll adjust and either develop their songwriting and playing to match the production or take a step back and just jangle a bit[12]. The key is to match the production with the performance. In this regard, Times New Viking hit the mark with their upgrade from bedroom recordings to a proper studio album.
Notes:
1This is usually tied to a large amount of (monetary) success. You make a ton of money and your or your label decide a name producer is the next logical step.
2Well, sorta. They generally worked with similar people recording and mixing, but production typically fell on the band, until Terror Twilight and Nigel Goodrich’s contributions.
3Bands figure that they captured something on the first record and now they have to recreate that, burn it and start over, or both. Instead, what a band should do is just keep making music. Too many bands try to hard on the second record. Some never recover. (see Interpol)
4Sometimes, the distraction of an overly produced album is fine, especially if the music can actually match the production value. Chavez’s Ride the Fader comes to mind. That record is my favorite headphone album of all-time. The production is so dead-on and big, but the music matches perfectly.
5Deconstructing songs often works the first time around, but after a while, it’s just mental masturbation.
6There’s also a growl when they get loud. The tape his doesn’t bother me as I loved my mixed tape days. There are so many records I only know with tape hiss, that it’s hard to imagine that it won’t always be around.
7OK. To be fair, GBV’s “studio” albums contained some great songs, but the production value suggested they were suddenly trying too hard to be rock stars instead of just being the rock stars they are/were.
8Siltbreeze in TNV’s case and Scat in GBV’s case.
9I really don’t remember why I put this footnote here. Maybe I intended to explain The Pains’ charm as having a British quality, much like the Smiths or something. Of course, they’re from Brooklyn, so they don’t have an authentic British charm…moving on…
10As someone pointed out, this is not the first time Pitchfork has turned its back on a band it touted. This is so effing hipster. (see “On Pissing Contests“)
11I recognize that I’m not in TNV. Hell, I’m not in any band, but lo-fi is something in which Ohioans take pride, at least Ohioans my age…who happened to listen to the same music I did.
12British charm alert!
Saturdays with Beer Geeks
I work and have a family. So, a lot of beer geeking happens on the weekend[1]. This past weekend, some headed to Munster, IN while the rest of us slummed it in Kansas City. This is what we do. We fill an entire day (or weekend, vacation, lifetime, etc.) with beer.
My beer enthusiasts club hit Kansas City for a day trip which included a brewery tour, lunch at a place called “Beer Kitchen,” and a large chunk of the day spent at a beer festival. Yes, we really spent the entire day immersed in beer and no one got completely wasted…well, not in our group anyway[2].
The brewery we toured was Boulevard in Kansas City. It’s a huge facility that produces all the beer for the tenth largest craft brewery in the US. We saw barrels used for the brewery’s high-end Smokestack series, enough brewing equipment to almost fill a city block, and a bottling line that now stands on the brewery’s old basketball court[3].
For a group of seasoned home brewers and beer nerds, the process of making beer was not all that impressive[4], but it was pretty cool to see Boulevard’s setup which has to be one of the most unique in the industry. The room below the fermentation tanks was right out of a sci-fi flick with the stainless steal pipes and nothing but the bottoms of fermenters protruding from the ceiling. The building utilized the original architecture of the old warehouse as well as incorporating some newer wrinkles. All of it was super modern with exposed skeletal structures and polished concrete. It’s really a nice facility. Even nicer were the samples waiting for us at the end of the tour. Of particular interest was the dry-hopped wheat, suggesting that hoppy wheat beers might be the next big thing in craft brewing[5].
After a few samples, we all needed food in our bellies. Luckily, the Beer Kitchen was not too far away. Since I was driving, there wasn’t much for me to enjoy, except for the corned beef hash (off the brunch menu). Still, they offered six-ounce samplers of which I accepted and sipped on one of the nicer surprises of the year, New Belgium’s Le Terroir[6]. Someone bought a $15 Scandinavian IPA and we were off to the festival.
When I say “festival,” what I mean to say is a row of tents with lines of people extending about thirty feet of expectant beer drinkers. The breweries held down posts inside the tents and spent their day pouring. Breweries from Nebraska, Iowa, Kansas, and Missouri were present as well as regional favorite New Belgium and newly MO-accepted Stone. I wasn’t fooling myself. This was not a festival of breweries from the Pacific Northwest or Belgium[7]. A lot of the beer was just okay. Conversely, I didn’t have a beer I’d pour down the drain either. Our crew basically waited in line for beer, received said beer in our commemorative glasses, and proceeded to the next line where we would drink the beer until reaching the next brewer.
I honestly can’t remember which beers I liked best. It was good to try Nebraska Brewing Company, a brewery about which I had heard many good things. However, when I asked for the IPA, I got the Hop God, a blend of IPA and Belgian Tripel. Let’s just say that it was not what I wanted it to be[8], but someone let me sample their IPA and I was glad I did. I seem to remember that the Upstream IPA was good as was the refreshing Hopluia from Spilker. All of these breweries hailed from Nebraska, leading me to think that there’s something going on there besides corn.
We finished the day at a pizza place in a shopping center…which happened to possess forty or so taps. I kept it simple and sipped slowly on an Oaked Arrogant Bastard while washing down some pizza. It would take a venti iced latte to get me home, but I made it safe and sound.
This is what beer geeks do. Instead of traveling or attending festivals where there might be beer, we travel for the beer. Unfortunately for me, I’m the only one in my family who enjoys beer enough to do this[9]. So, I have to take my opportunities for beer travel when I can get it, even when it’s just a day. It might not sound like fun to talk, drink, and “eat” beer for an entire day or longer, but that’s what we do.
Notes:
1It’s not just on weekends, but weekends seem to be the easiest times to fit in some beer geeking.
2I saw many a bro suck down too many 3-4 oz. pours in the sun without eating or drinking water. Not cool, beer festival bro. Not cool.
3Interestingly, the old bottling line used to take up about the same amount of space the barrel room now occupies. The new bottling line takes up space in a pretty large room with high ceilings and yes, they used to play basketball in that room. The new line is so efficient, it doesn’t have to run on the weekends. Typically, it’s done by Friday of every week. The old line ran straight through the weekend.
4Most of the “action” occurred on video screens. There were mini-docs on the brewing process at each stop. It certainly gave the tour a Disney feel and relieved the volunteer tour guides form having to know everything.
5It seems these little trends in craft beer pop up now and again without warning. I finally feel like I’m aware of one as it happens. Of course, dry-hopped wheats, while refreshing and floral, are not as exciting as Black IPA’s and anything bourbon barrel aged.
6While dry-hopped sour ales are not really a trend as of yet, I do like the rash of well-balanced sours hitting the market here and there. Sure, I like a beer that only brings the sour, but a beer like Le Terrior is a welcome respite from beers that make you pucker.
7I think I just peed a little. The idea of attending a beer festival in the Pacific Northwest or Belgium excites me.
8I wanted hops. I got some muted hops behind Belgian sweet. Never does this work.
9Although, the 2.5-year-old often likes to tell me that she’ll gladly drink (and brew) beer with me when she’s bigger.
CoMusic Filler: The Walkmen & The New Pornographers
I apologize for posting so late. Last night’s big news and a nasty cold I’ve been fighting was keeping me from being productive. Plus, I had blog posts that were due for two different blogs higher on my priority list. The post below was for the Collective. I have more to say and could possibly add footnotes later, but for now, this is what I saw/heard.
How many New Pornographers does it take to change a lightbulb?
As previously mentioned here, The Walkmen and The New Pornographers both graced the stage at The Blue Note Friday evening. As a Walkmen fan, I worried that the crummy turnout at the last two shows they played here would happen again Friday. Luckily, it did not. People turned out, but I don’t know how much they actually enjoyed themselves.
Let me be clear. Both bands put on excellent sets.
The Walkmen put on their typically solid set of songs, mostly from the last two records, but some old favorites were mixed in as well as some new, yet-to-be-heard songs. They were business like to match their business casual attire. Despite doing their job, the set moved efficiently and had energy. Highlights included a strangely tuned piano on “We’ve Been Had,” the previously mentioned new songs, and “The Rat” actually wasn’t the last song of the set.
The New Pornographers contrast The Walkmen in every possible way, but they balanced the night out with a good set of their own. Sadly missing was Dan Bejar, the best songwriter of the group, but we can’t get everything. Neko Case was there, pleasing many young men (and women) in the audience, garnering at least three offers of marriage. I had previously seen the band at the much larger Pageant in St. Louis where their set felt artificial, staged. Squeeze the Canadian supergroup onto the Blue Note’s tiny stage helped create a much more intimate setting, actually adding to the band’s pop-heavy energy. The New Pornos are a sharp group that put on a good show.
One thing both bands have in common is an unassuming, yet undisputed rock star leading the way. The Walkmen have Hamilton Leithauser, the tall, lanky, raspy-throated frontman who provided the prerequisite witty banter between songs. For the Pornos, they technically have three or so leaders. However, Dan Bejar, as mentioned above, was not there and Carl Newman just doesn’t seem to want that role. Neko Case was the rock star on hand Friday night. She held down her spot in front of the mic with tambourine in-hand. Sadly, the poor acoustics of the Blue Note did her voice no justice, but that’s another complaint for another post.
Despite all this alt-star power in the building, the Blue Note crowd was fairly apathetic. I can’t really figure out why the Note lacked energy. Two of the better touring acts come to our little college town on the same night, put on great sets, and it was a Friday nights should have meant an electric atmosphere. Sadly, that was not the case as many stood with arms folded. It could have been the questionable sound, the warm temperatures (I sweat in the Blue Note from April to October), or I completely misread both bands’ sets. Either way, let’s hope the CoMO crowd wakes up the next time two bands of this caliber play our favorite venue.
On Pissing Contests
Pubic Domain
A good friend of mine got me to thinking about a key aspect of these obsessions I have with craft beer and indie rock: the pissing contest. I’ve addressed the pissing contest before in regards to the boys club craft beer has become, but the issue needs further development. You see, we were having a back and forth over my developing list of beliefs. One particular belief needs a condition. Here’s what I wrote:
Beer and music is something about which we can talk. Craft beer and indie rock are the best for discussion. The hours I have spent discussing the value of that man snoring in the background of a Guided by Voices song or the times at a bar I’ve spent identifying flavors in a beer are some of the best memories I own (aside from those involving my partner and daughter, of course). Obviously, I really believe in this or I wouldn’t dedicate an entire blog to the topics and where they intersect.
And when we talk about beer and music, we are mindful of the moment. We don’t mindlessly consume. Instead, we consider possibilities and different perspectives. We find meaning in these things that on the outside seem so unimportant, but a deeper look reveals lessons for life.
This belief as well as all of the beliefs on my list will be fleshed out. However, I feel there’s a point at which time the discussion[1] of craft beer and indie rock break down. It happens when a good conversation suddenly turns into a pissing contest. Some conversations are nothing but pissing contests, but no matter when the pissing begins, the contest ruins great conversation.
For the purposes of this blog and the list of beliefs I eluded to earlier, a pissing contest is the moment in any conversation where a participant interjects with something better, not really adding to the discussion. Whether it be competitiveness, jealousy, or overcompensation for something else, the pissing contest is just a way for one person to one-up the other[2]. The contest moves the discussion away from the moment and devolves into a list of accomplishments or conquests. The moment is lost forever and the discussion might as well be over.
I can demonstrate a pissing contest in the two arenas on which this blog focuses. First, imagine two dudes sitting at the bar, enjoy a beer together.
Dude 1 – Wow, this beer is really boozy
Dude 2 – Yeah, what did they say the ABV was?
Dude 1 – Like 9 or 10 percent, I think.
Dude 2 – That’s nothing. I had a Double Bastard the other day that was like 11%.
Dude 1 – Have you ever had 120 minute? I have. That thing is like 18, 19, 21%.
Dude 2 – I have and in fact I have like two oh-8’s in my cellar right now.
Dude 1 – Well, have you ever had a Sink the Bismarck? That beer will grow hair on your teeth.
And…scene.
In this example, the beer discussion really didn’t go very far as each dude one-upped the other with his beer conquests. There’s no discussion whether the booziness of the beer at hand affects their enjoyment or not. There’s no sharing a comparison of the beers they’ve had in the past. When one dude mentions a rare beer he has, there’s no offer to share. This is a pretty superficial, pretty boring conversation. The dudes’ girlfriends[3] are bored to death at this point and wondering when they can go out and have some real fun.
Now, for an example at a rock club, the night of a highly anticipated show.
Dude 1 – So, do you think they’ll play “Wake Up?”
Dude 2 – I doubt it. Pitchfork says that they’re mostly playing new stuff.
Dude 1 – Did you see them when they played at Mojo’s? It was awesome.
Dude 2 – No! For like the four-millionth time, I didn’t see them at Mojo’s[4].
Dude 1 – They did that thing where they leave the stage and play for the back of the venue.
Dude 2 – Yes, I’ve seen that a million times on line.
Dude 1 – It was awesome in person.
Dude 2 – Well, I saw them in Canada once. It was more authentic as their witty banter was all in French. I had to ask this cute French Canadian girl to translate. She did and we made out later.
In this example, the pissing contest spirals out of control until one dude obviously starts lying, even inventing a sexual encounter[5] in order to provide the final point that will make him cooler than the other dude.
In both pissing contests, the moment is lost and discussion ceases to be meaningful, if it ever even really started. Pissing contests strip the enjoyment from craft beer and indie rock, much less anything else[6]. Neither conversation produced anything more than feelings of jealousy and inadequacy in the participants. I imagine it was even worse for those who were present as their opinions or enjoyment of the moment were not a priority.
Despite my earlier rants on this subject, the pissing contest does not limit itself to one gender or class. Women partake in pissing contests as much as men[7]. The biggest difference is that men and boys are often overcompensating for a certain inadequacy[8]. Women and girls are just tired of being left out by the boys. I’m sure there’s more to it than that, but my point is that pissing contests are equal-opportunity practices for all sexes.
Class is an interesting factor. Often, out pissing the other is competition of wealth and privilege. “I can afford that fancy beer that you can’t” or “I attended more rock shows and bought more records than you did” arguments escalate the pissing contest to an arms race of whose daddy makes more money. At some point, things are reversed and the word “elitist” is tossed around. This is where the opposite happens and one celebrates PBR binges and free rock shows in basements as kryptonite to the other’s elitist pursuits[9].
A key component of hipster hatred[10] comes from the pissing contest. A hipster can never be beat as they piss cool. No matter what one brings to the PC, a hipster is one step ahead of the rest of us in knowing what’s cool. And half the time they simply make it up. Trends happen that way, but it’s impossible to keep up. Some give me a hard time for banging on hipsters all the time, but the eternal hipster pissing contest makes them pretty unbearable. The hipster pissing contest is one of perceived coolness. Quantity nor quality is considered in a hipster pissing contest. It’s all about cool, but I digress.
I too succumb to the traps of the pissing contest[11]. It used to be a common occurrence whenever I engaged a conversation about music. Someone would tell me they loved Pavement. I’d respond that I saw their last North American show[12]. Someone might mention they like Sonic Youth. I’ll respond that I once met Thurston Moore and Lee Renaldo[13]. Sometimes the pissing contest never happened if the other person was not into one-upping me, but it often did as this is what indie geeks do. “I saw them when…” and “I have [seminal LP, EP, or 7″]” conversations are just part of the culture[14].
Talking beer was once a pissing contest when we used to discuss who could drink the most without passing out[15]. That was eventually seen as the sophomoric, hyper-masculine waste of time it was[16]. Then, I met the beer equivalent of the indie geek: the craft beer geek. And the pissing contests commenced. We had this barrel-aged and that 100 IBU and that 18% ABV… It’s this constant arms race to see who can consume what first or the most. I’ve joined the contest with my own escalating cellar and bar bills. Sometimes, the enjoyment of a beer is lost when all I can think about is what I’ll have next.
The biggest problem is that we’re all so concerned with writing our names in the snow first instead of enjoying the moment[17]. We’re missing out when we focus so much on pissing contests. We can’t enjoy a beer and talk about what makes it great when our time is spent talking about all the beers that are better. There’s no way to enjoy a rock show when all we can do is brag that the band was better on the last tour. Pissing contests suck the enjoyment out of life!
The pissing contest is the adult equivalent of the childhood argument “I know you are, but what am I?” Nothing new is offered. There are no details that might provide enlightenment. It’s just another way to make yourself feel better, but it could end with you feeling worse. It’s a waste of time and does not advance humanity in any way.
So, the pissing contest is not welcome in the Coalition[18]. How can we advance our enjoyment of beer and music if we’re always trying to outdo each other?
So, when I return to my ten beliefs, let it be known that talking about craft beer and indie rock is not meant to be a pissing contest. It’s meant to be a moment with friends, enjoying life as it happens.
Notes:
1Here, the discussion, talk, or conversation really means this blog and the accompanying comments and backlinks, but it also includes the more traditional, face-to-face discussions we have every day.
2You may now start to imagine streams of urine arching into the air, each one higher than the last until we all run out of urine.
3I recognize that this is a stretch. Typically, guys who do a lot of this don’t have girlfriends. They might be married as their spouses are stuck with them, but they rarely have girlfriends. Winning a pissing contest never won me a girlfriend. I put it on hold for a while. Now, she’s stuck with me.
4I didn’t see Arcade Fire at Mojo’s and I’m still pissed every time someone brings it up.
5Sex and sexual partners are a pissing contest unto themselves. I won’t go into details as this type of PC devolves rather quickly into something so crass I’d have to change this blog to NSFW.
6Again, keep in mind that I use beer and music as a vehicle to explore many issues. These ideas have other practical, universal applications.
7Now, you should giggle at the difficulty in which a woman or girl would have in participating in an actual pissing contest. I’m not saying it’s impossible, but it’s not going to be easy.
8It’s the size of their penises. They’re worried their penises are too small, so they have to make themselves seem bigger in some way.
9Interesting how many politicians resort to the pissing contest where they try to prove how rough a life they’ve had while their opponent has had everything handed to them.
10Let’s be clear about this in a way that I’ve never been before. When I refer to “hipsters,” I am not talking about those people who are perceived to be hipster due to their attire, music, or some other thing with which Carles has an issue. The perceived hipster is not the problem. In fact, these are often the most interesting and creative people you’ll meet. “Hipster” as a derogatory term refers to a prick who only cares about being cooler than you. One cannot determine this sort of hipster without getting to know them. Assholes who just want to get laid and are willing to out-cool you at every step just to make that happen are actual hipsters, very different from the perceived hipster.
11This admission is just to show you that I recognize my own hypocrisy and how this blog often just turns into my own HTML of a pissing contest. It’s part of the human condition to prove that you’re better than everyone else. However, my point is that if we succumb to the PC, the coalition will never be built.
12I did. And I’m talking about their first last North American show in ’99. (See footnote above.)
13It’s not as cool as it sounds. I froze and couldn’t think of a damn thing to say.
14Boy, that makes indie rock sound pretty lame. It’s not really that bad, but it’s something I’ve come to expect when we talk indie.
15The worst was this dude named TJ. He would go on and on about how he finished seven…teen beers the other night. The guy actually worked on raising his tolerance by getting drunk nearly every night. He could put them away, but at what cost?
16Actually, someone finally realized how much cheaper it was to be a light-weight. Instead of drinking a six-pack in a night, you could split a sixer with a buddy and be happy.
17Now, imagine women doing this. Again, not impossible, but possibly funnier than watching dudes doing it. Just saying.
18In all truthfulness, it will still happen, but we can try out best to stay conscious and in the moment.
Stone Week
This past week, Missouri welcomed Stone Brewing to the Show-Me State…Rather, Stone Brewing welcomed us to their distribution[1]. For most of the week, stories leaked and were told about Stone’s arrival. Of course, Stone’s Greg Koch[2] was on-hand to spread his arrogant gospel about rejecting “yellow fizzy beer” and instead choosing real flavor in the form of real beer, specifically Stone’s beer.
I say “week” when things actually kicked off Tuesday, the official release day of everything. It started with a slow rumble over social media of displays at stores all over town. During my lunch break, I stopped in at three different stores and all of them had gigantic stacks of Stone beer. I’ve never seen anything like it[3]. I remember when Founders arrived a couple years back and thought that was big. This was on another level[4]. There’s now more Stone here than the shelves allow. And it’s fresh. We didn’t get the leftovers…but I’m getting ahead of myself.
The beer nerds in town picked up their customary allotment and the stories from Kansas City and St. Louis started rolling in, including the videos below…
And basically the same talk[5] at another KC establishment near the 2:29 mark…
And while it’s humorous to watch a guy who makes and promotes craft beer for a living talk about “throwing off the chains of oppression[6],” the beer is serious stuff. I won’t be the first person to complain that Stone’s beer hasn’t lived up to their own hype machine[7], but it’s a pretty important player in the craft beer scene and it greatly upgrades the beer available in Missouri. Besides, I’m not entirely sure the beer has really suffered that much since they’ve expanded. It could be that my palate has expanded or I haven’t had fresh Stone in a long while. Whatever. Stone Brewing coming to Missouri was a big deal for us. It’s a big deal for me.
The week moved on and the day approached when the Stone reps would make their appearance in our little college town. I used the Columbia Beer Enthusiast Twitter account to promote the arrival, even going so far as to mention one of craft beer’s top-20 bachelors, Mr. Koch, as being present for the festivities. He quickly corrected me via Twitter…
This took some of the luster off the big Stone release events of the weekend, but I attended anyway[8].
After a CBE officers meeting at Broadway Brewery, people poured into Sycamore five minutes before they were open to hit the bar up for the first Stone many of us had on tap in Missouri[9]. I started with asking the bartender to fill my free take-away Stone glassware with a 2010 Russian Imperial Stout. Since we hadn’t received this year’s batch of RIS, I figured I’d just sip on this one beer before the next stop as bar crawls are always bad new for me. Trouble is, someone let me try their Sublimely Self-Righteous Ale and I wanted that. I had had this beer before, but this one was fresh with the sweet aroma of Simcoe.
After Sycamore, we stumbled down to Uprise for more Stone. The Double Bastard was the brew of choice. And when they call it “double” they’re not kidding. For the uninitiated, Arrogant Bastard is a load of a beer. The malt bill and hop presence is pretty huge, almost too much for the virgin palate, but the Double Bastard slams even the most seasoned beer geek in the face with loads of sweetness and alcohol[10]. It’s not an easy drink for anyone, but that didn’t stop us.
Originally, this was supposed to be the last stop, but we somehow rounded up some DD’s to take us out to 1839 Tap House. After a Cal-Belgique IPA and possibly something else, I had to head home. The Cal-Belgique was not the beer with which to end and I don’t feel like I can give it a true assessment after the RIS and Double Bastard. Luckily, there’s still a bottle in my cellar for an untainted tasting.
It’s been six years since I moved here, wonting of Stone. Now that it’s here, I feel our beer selection in Missouri upgraded ten-fold. Now, when faced with an uninspiring tap list at a bar, I know that I can simply order a Stone Arrogant Bastard or Ruination IPA and know that my beery needs are met.
Some have complained that the Stone brand is more hype and hyperbole than substance. I’d disagree. They’re like the indie band who signs a major label deal and blows up all over the world[11]. Maybe some of the product isn’t as good as it once was, but that might have more to do with context than it does whether or not the product is any good. Someone made the point that although Arrogant Bastard isn’t as impressive as its name would suggest, ten years ago, that beer would have blown your mind. Stone’s arrival in Missouri might not be the most earth-shattering development in craft beer, but it certainly is a welcome one.
Notes:
1Stone is practically everywhere, but part of their arrogance lies in the fact that we’re told that we’re not worthy for their beer. Only now is Missouri worthy. And with the growth of the craft beer scene as well as all the groveling in this state for some Stone, maybe we really are worthy.
2Koch is the Sam Calagione (Dogfish Head) of the west. He personifies both the good and the bad associated with Stone’s arrogance.
3Aside from the stacks of macros in our stores, I’ve never seen so much beer from one craft brewery in Columbia stores. The setups would make ABI and MillerCoors blush. I was lucky enough to see three stacks virtually untouched. I was amazed so much work had been done that morning.
4Founders was a sought after as Stone is, but their beer was absent from Missouri shelves within their first week or two. Even if people buy twice as much Stone, there’s no way we’ll run out for a month. I like that one of my favorite breweries is not only in Missouri, but it should be readily available.
5My suspicion is that Koch really has just one speech in his back pocket with a few catch phrases. Unfortunately for him, with the increasing exposure due to social media, his speeches will become cliched. Luckily for him, Stone only has a few more states left to invade.
6I do grow weary of this sort of rhetoric. Come on. You have never known oppression, white guy who sells beer to the masses. It’s a little insulting, but it’s probably benign enough by now that I shouldn’t be offended, which is maybe a problem in itself.
7Koch is part of that hype machine, but the brewery has done an impressive job of branding itself over the past decade. The ever-present gargoyles, the long-winded narratives on the back of the bottles, the use of terms like “arrogant,” “ruination,” “sublimely self-righteous”…You get the point. Stone hypes itself better than any other brewery outside of BrewDog and BD is just emulating Stone. I have to admit that I have been sucked in by the hype machine, but it doesn’t hurt that I enjoy most of their beers.
8Honestly, I came for the beer. It would have been nice to get some Greg face, but I’ll live. I’ve got my beer.
9Actually, I had some Ruination and Arrogant Bastard the night before at Uprise. We had a happy hour to celebrate my wife sending her final revisions of her book to the press and I couldn’t turn down an Arrogant Bastard.
10The regular AB is just under 8% ABV. Luckily, the Double is not fully double that, but at 11%, it packs a mighty wallop for which none of us were prepared.
11I remember no one who liked Nirvana before they hit it big liked them after. Although they haven’t technically signed with a major label, Arcade Fire gets all kinds of crap for their success. It’s hard for people to separate success from quality. Sometimes the criticism is just, but often we dislike a band just because their too big. Of course, the opposite can also be said when we love a band or musician just because they are so popular. I suspect that in beer, both happens simultaneously. Stone, for example, will win over a ton of new fans because they are filling up stores and tap handles just as they will lose beer fans because they’re everywhere.
CoMusic Twitterview: The Walkmen
This past weekend, this post published over at The Collective. It’s a little tongue-in-cheek as whoever runs The Walkmen’s Twitter account was not ammused by the questions I sent them. Of course, if you read this blog regularly, you know how much I love The Walkmen. This semi-fake interview was not meant as a way to make fun of them. Instead, I want people to come out for once to see The Walkmen. The two times I’ve seen them here, barely anyone showed. I want people to check them out. I want New Pornographer fans to show up early enough to catch both bands. Whatever. Here’s the somewhat fake Twitterview. I have a real interview with a real-life band in a few weeks. Until then, enjoy…
As a citizen journalist trying to get a blog off the ground, I’ll take an interview anyway I can get it. With The Walkmen set to play The Blue Note this Friday alongside New Pornographers, I approached the band with an idea for a Twitterview. They allowed me five questions. The conversation is below…
This seems on par for The Walkmen. They have never shied away from diverse influences. It helps one understand their sound which harkens back to some truly classic rock ‘n roll (Buddy Holly, Jerry Lee Lewis, Fats Domino), a little doo-wop (Dion), the alt canon (Ramones, Morrisey), and a little something from this decade to hold your interest (Cass McCombs). These selections should tell you all you need to know about the band’s sound.
Lisbon is a pretty great record. It made several best-of lists, including mine. Reports showed that 17 tracks were left off the final version. The Tweet above tells you all you need to know beyond that.
This is where the interview stalled. Only being allowed five questions at 140 characters a piece didn’t make it easy to come up with good interview questions. Apparently, my other questions were too lame with which to bother or were somehow offensive. I guess I’ll never know.
I did try to Twitterview The New Pornographers, but they never responded.
So, in the interest of telling you all you need to know about the show at the Blue Note, I’ll piece together a proper Twitterview using The Walkmen’s Twitter feed. Here goes nothing…
For the musicians out there, @orangebuffalo asked the following question and received the following response…
The sound is pretty unique and will definitely grab your attention. The band does some subtle things with their sonis to create an aesthetic that is rather pleasing to the ear.
I had considered to ask questions about the set lists for the tour, but couldn’t fit it in the five questions the band was allowing me. Luckily, @whiteskittLs took care of it for me…
So, expect a lot of Lisbon Friday night.
What’s in store for The Walkmen after this tour? Well…
If we’re lucky, we might get to hear these new tracks on which the band is working. And next time, I’ll just interview a band like a normal journalist/blogger.
The Walkmen play the Blue Note with The New Pornographers this Friday, April 29. Doors open at 8:00. Tickets are available through Ticketmaster.
Illustration by Justin Nardy. His Tumblr is here and Etsy shops here and here.
Placeholder: No Internet
We have no wireless service. So, I was unable to finish my post. I plan to recap Stone week (day) and post a Twitterview with The Walkmen that’s currently over at The COMO Collective.
Posted from my EyePhone.
Beer and Pavement 
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