it started at a watering hole. or a swimming hole. honestly, i'm still not sure which one is which, or if there is a difference.
fourth of july is a holiday dear to my heart.
maybe it's that epic film from my youth, when i was half as old but twice as wise, independence day, where we learned about how humanity really can pull together long enough to entrust jeff goldblum to bug a hyper-sophisticated extra-terrestrial super computer and save us all from annihilation.
it's more likely though that my genuine affection for this holiday derives from the amalgam of antics that have occurred on it for so many years running now.
last year i found myself in nashville, being showered by firework ash on the bank of the cumberland river and then at a bar across from the grand ole opry.
before that, i had been dragged into a spontaneous road trip to florida where i used 1 burger king cup for the entire trip (getting refills at burger kings all along the way) and hit golf balls into the ocean, been in washington d.c. sharing a hotel room with a group of 14 practically perfect strangers, and at age 12 meeting a girl who would subsequently become my pen pal for the following 12 years, only to get married off to another, more proximate man, but not before teaching me it's ok to be a fool for blondes.
yes, the 4th and i, we have a bond. an agreement per se. i say to the 4th, do me a solid, and break this year in half in style. the 4th says, sure thing, but be prepared to suffer from two good months of meaningful weekend postpartum.
so here i now sit, the next most exciting event to look forward is a trip to green bay in august. that's not a typo -- i really wrote green bay.
this year was no exception to the traditional rule for me, as i embarked on a great day with great friends -- first at krause springs:
then to see the austin natives back playing their 10 year anniversary show at stubbs, explosions in the sky.
it was another experience to add to my 4th list that seems to lack anything too ephemeral. and i can appreciate that.
It’s a shame we make the same mistakes over and over again.
A few days after I completed my first sitting of Vinyl & Wine, a friend and I had a conversation in which we talked about how it is often difficult to broach a subject when we know the conversation could be tumultuous; though we are quite confident the end result will be positive. Yet each time the situation arises, we find ourselves backed against the same wall, sweating profusely, flustered by all the permutations of possibly negative outcomes.
We make other mistakes too. We create agendas when none are required. We use thirty words when ten will do. We say things we do not mean. We mean to say things we forget or cannot find the words for. We all too often find ourselves to be all too human.
Then we hear a song. We drink a glass of wine. We laugh with friends. We write letters to relatives. We run into old flames. We kindle fires with new ones. We hold hands with our spouses. We find ourselves a collective of unstoppable forces united in the enjoyment of the beauty of the things we are beholden to. We are simple in our complexities. We are flawless in our recurring error.
This is the beauty of Kris Kristofferson. A man whose words are so simple, yet capture so much depth of meaning. A classic, and yet sometimes forgotten songwriter; amongst the greatest of a generation.
In the Austin Sessions, Kristofferson even further explores the rapt emotion and what feels like effortless depth of the origins of some of his greatest works, and does so by creating more raw, stripped down versions while adding delicate harmonies to create fullness and balance.
It was only fitting then that I happened upon the selection of a rugged yet flavorful Spanish Rioja red named Ergo, from Martín Codax, to match up with this album, creating a blend as natural and raw as the components themselves.
The Rioja is named for its region in Spain and is made primarily from Tempranillo, a rich, black grape used to create full-bodied reds. Tempranillos are traditionally rich with berry and plum flavors with touches of tobacco, herb, leather, and vanilla. The tannins are evident, but not overwhelming.
Truly it seemed unspectacular at first; by no means a shock to the pallet. Yet as both the wine and the words set in, both began to absorb my mind in a specific way. The richness was subtle and had to be earned. It seemed such an appropriate parallel for Kristofferson; especially an older, stripped-down, humbler, and wiser version.
The real beauty of Kris Kristofferson is that he cannot be taken on contrivance. I think this is why it was so important that this blend of the Austin Sessions and Ergo was my first venture with Vinyl & Wine.
Vinyl & Wine is a daunting task. Both music and wine are so organic in their nature, but more than that, are capable of being so dynamic, beautiful, and haunting. Who am I to manufacture a scenario where I pontificate on how to match these together?
Yes, the concept seems great, and I am fairly certain what will come of it could create a positive experience for those partaking, but what about all those negative outcomes?
I suppose making wine or music either one is a microcosm of life in that way. So many things could go wrong in the process to make the outcome not quite as beautiful as you might hope. But then there is also that chance, just that slight chance, in which it could all go right.
As far as the review goes, this album is so full of masterful work, it is nearly impossible to break down all the poignant statements and evident parallels between Kristofferson’s song writing, vocals, accompaniments, and melodies to the rugged and steady flavors of this choice Rioja.
One moment of clarity did strike however, as I listened intently the album through. During Kristofferson’s duet with singer/songwriter Marc Cohn on Lovin’ Her Was Easier (Than Anything I’ll Ever Do Again), he sings of loving a woman in such a way that it was as effortless a thing as any man could do in life. In one line he sings, “dreamin’ was as easy as believin’ it was never gonna end”, and in that line, in that moment, I saw clearly the fusion of our love of life and imbibing and romanticism. It brought to mind Lady Brett Ashley, and Tracy Lord, or a young lady who to refuses to call you back during the day but only at night, after a flight of Spanish reds, to help her get her dress unbuttoned.
We fall for it every time – the same mistakes. But it keeps life interesting.
picking up on friday morning, it's only appropriate that i dragged out this second post by so many days, as that's what getting up and going friday morning felt like. thursday was epic in a sense that though we called it a fairly early night by austin standards, it was a day that seemed like it would never end, and we never really wanted it to.
i like the above picture because it kind of captures lorne, roni, and i each in our most natural element of the weekend. it was also taken on saturday, so each of us had definitely built a healthy resume by this point of what our weekend m.o. was and we were comfortable in it.
friday morning was actually pretty unique for me, as i was asked by my friend samantha to come be in a little indie flick a couple of british guys named ed and jay were filming while in town for the week. i went and shot early in the morning around 8, which was good, because i was to be playing a skeezy prostitute solicitor coming out of a gas station bathroom who looked ragged and a bit hungover. let's just say i didn't have to go to make-up. i found out the guys were also following around a little band called viking moses! who oddly enough i had actually heard of. they told me he was playing at a monkeywrench books off north loop and 53rd st. at noon, so i went to check him out to start the day. pretty unique little sx experience, as i watched this guy wailing on an electric with a girl on keys with about 6 others in a bookstore no bigger than my kitchen.
then it was back into town where i met ronnie the bear and went to emos to catch the pains of being pure at heart. there was a healthy little buzz about these kids, and that's just what they were, and it was a nice, tight set considering listening to a band at emos inside is like being trapped inside the drum monitor. i had to find a place to sit afterward though, and the back porch seemed like as good an idea as any, where another band was playing. i didn't bother to write down who it was. besides, it was time to get to the levis/fader fort.
now, the thing about the fader fort is, well, a lot of things. see, what happens is, levis and fader magazine get together and this fort is built on east 5th street and they have all kinds of free and promotional stuff going on all day, every day, including tons of music, photo booths, merch, blogger lounge, and of course, free southern comfort and budweiser. all you can drink. of course. why not. why would you not serve free southern comfort and budweiser all day every day for four days to a bunch of crazy, young music fans from all over the world? naturally, this was the thing to do. all it took to gain access was a simple rsvp online days before the festivities and standing in an unnecessarily long line to pick up the wrist band, and you're in. this actually happens at sxsw a lot more than one might imagine is reasonable. at any rate, this location was a total success. after getting there around 4:00 to camp out for the impending free peter bjorn & john show later that evening, we caught a slew of reasonably talented musicians while enjoying friends and atmosphere. then pb&j came on, and all the world seemed right. of course they came out for the encore, and played a smashing rendition of young folks (this is from 2007 at mohawk. no 09 clips available). it was all in all another totally brilliant day.
saturday.
oh saturday. this is all i will say about the music on saturday. i saw these people in order at halcyon on a 2' tall stage standing 6' away from the artists. the dashing suns lou barlow m. ward will scheff
think about that. think about why those guys were playing a mid-saturday afternoon free showcase in a tiny coffee shop off 4th street. i know. i can't make sense of it either. but it was the perfect cap to an essentially perfect sxsw. it didn't even matter that we saw thao nguyen (who i developed an immediate crush on, let's just be honest) again and then later saw bun b, kanye west, and common. by then, it was just all icing.
really though, the main thing that made sxsw 2009 what it was, was the people. so many of our new york friends came down, put together the showcase paul played in, worked, and hung out. we had quote from nashville crashing with us for the week, where the poet matthew king taught me how to make a hookah bowl using an apple and some scotch tape. friends from houston, san diego, and dc, and made new friends with people from madison and manchester. we saw bands from portland, chicago, london, and jönköping, sweden. i unexpectedly ran into an old flame and gladly got to spend some quality time with a new one. we made new lifelong connections and played witness to art in creation. we sang and danced and drank merrily as the lord intended. it was so.
there is no way to know where to even begin to start thinking about what just happened.
i will attempt to recap a south by southwest experience in a more painless fashion than what my body experienced and still feels a solid 3 days removed from the final act.
sxsw in its fullness is a gargantuan task not to be taken on by the faint of heart. just when you think you've got time to rest and recover, you realize it's thursday morning, and it's time to get up and go stand in line again. in a way, it's like disney world for hipsters.
after bearing witness to 28 live shows, walking at least a marathon, standing for no less than 10 hours a day, housing musicians from nashville, industry friends from new york, and drinking my weight in free southern comfort, white russians, and pabst blue ribbon, all in the span of 4 days, i feel like it is safe to say i am now a sxsw veteran and part of some sort of elitist hip club where i get to talk in vague generalities about musical genius and the transcendent nature of independent craftsmanship.
but all that aside, i did see/hear some really outstanding acts and there were very few moments in the 4 days of euphoria/masochism where i was left feeling any version of disappointment.
i kicked off the week on monday morning standing in line at waterloo records for a limited give-away of tickets for a private decemberists w/ gomez show. i arrived around 8:40 am. after i reached the door to the store at 10:25, i was left 5 patrons short of a ticket. while i guess i should've felt really upset, instead i ended up making great friends with a guy from wisconsin and his girlfriend while standing in line. they were down for their first sxsw and i was able to give them a few pointers and then send them my email list of rsvp events to guide them on some cool places to go. also, i randomly ended up standing in line with a guy whom i worked with at club deville last year during the event who had been growing a recession beard, which was wildly out of control and horribly unattractive. but since when i originally met him he had pink hair hanging down in his face, i'm guessing attractive wasn't what he was going for.
wednesday: i brushed off the bad luck with the decemberists ticket and got out early to see a swedish band i first saw open for andrew bird at the paramount theater called 'loney dear'. their traditional scandinavian sound blends well a mix of jens lekman and sigur ros with a folksy undertone. i would catch them again at the flamingo cantina on thursday where they played an energized afternoon set.
wednesday afternoon brought a stage-front view (which would become a common theme for the week) of elvis perkins in dearland, one of my absolute favorites, at the mohawk party (click the link to see the black cab sessions blog with photo from show). afterward was akron family, a nice little hodge-podge of sound. that's enough for wednesday.
thursday: all i can say is, there was a choice to be made thursday morning between the paste magazine party at the radio room and the npr party at the parish; we chose the latter, and we chose wisely.
kick it off with a bag of swag and a few free pbr's then: thao nguyen and the get down stay down -- gem of the week. my favorite new act. blind pilot -- came highly recommended and did not disappoint. blk jks -- system of a down meets tv on the radio and the roots. k'naan -- where did this guy come from? answer: heaven. tears in our eyes. the dirty projectors -- music from the future. no basis for comparison. blitzen trapper -- sub pop band makes us feel good again and again.
emerging from the parish in the middle of the day after spending 5 hours in a dark theater listening to a brilliantly cast eclectic mix of superb musicianship was slightly less than desirable, but it led to more adventures like kebabilicious, a $5 cab ride and the cold war kids at auditorium shores. we then braved the walk back downtown to fado where we showed just in time to see paul banks and the carousels play the set of their life followed up by a nice little solo set by chicago artist joe pug. it had been a full day at that point, and time to get home, rehydrate, and get some sleep.
almost in month three of two-thousand & nine, anno domini -- another beautiful austin, texas day. listening to sigur rós's Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust for the second time this weekend, four days into the lenten season, four days without a beer, a cigarette, or a cup of coffee. my sister found out i smoked the day before i quit, so i figured since she was the last family holdover, i can now talk openly about it. she had her suspicions anyway. to my nephews and possible future children -- don't even bother trying it. it's everything bad everyone has ever said it was with fifteen thousand times the side effects. after having gone four days without smoking, i'm positive that i could run a marathon tomorrow and hold my breath for thirteen years or something. sans coffee and beer as well, i'm also certain i'm just weeks away from scaling everest. or at least enchanted rock.
i got a text this morning that informed me via phil's twitter that his parents were in thailand. i thought that was cool. i wish i were phil's parents. if i found a genie lamp and he granted me three wishes, it would be one of them. if he granted me only one wish, i would wish for more wishes. everyone knows you have to do that.
life is funny -- i am 25 and the only non-married, non-parent amongst my siblings, and i'm the only one that owns a station wagon.
if you have read previous posts, you might have heard something about a short-lived vw passat that came into my life, and just as quickly left; but now i have incestuously renewed my familial ties to the volkswagen and gone with a white jetta wagon. it has a temperamental keyless entry pad, of which audrey, the girl who sold me the car, friend, and previous roommate, said, "i can't think of anything more fitting for you than a volkswagen wagon with a temperamental keypad". she's right.
"ben, you sing the songs of my life," lauren said.
"you have a weird life," ben replied.
ben folds is a cool guy. he's just a cool guy. shortly after that brief conversation with my friend lauren, he signed his set list and gave it to our friend juliette. our other friend brian works for his label. he secured two giant yellow frowny face masks that the band members wore while playing key-tars. he played most of his new album, but also played fake songs he made up in one day with the same names as the ones on the album, many of which were at least slightly better. he's just a cool guy.
