In Which I Direct at Least 25 More Views to the New Helms Alee Video

There's a common thread among interviews with aging 80s metal dudes that revolves around how much better things were in their day, when they were young metal dudes what ruled the land of metal. No, i'm not talking about the "Nirvana took away all our fame" meme; anyone who was paying attention back then by reading issues of RIP magazine (like 17-year-old hairmetalhead me) knows that guys like Sebastian Bach were totally stoked on Nevermind and actually thought they could get Nirvana to tour with them. Little did they know that Kurt Cobain thought their lifestyle was a joke and that Skid Row would have to settle for taking Soundgarden--a band less averse to the mainstream spotlight and mainstream shirtlessness--out as an opening act.

No, what i'm talking about is the old "MTV used to actually play music" canard. Yes, this still bothers some people, apparently. I'm not sure what their deal is--maybe during late night bouts of insomniac alzheimer's-induced dementia (ha! Old people jokes from a guy nearing 40!) they turn on MTV expecting to see Riki Rachtman introducing an Alice in Chains video and are all, "why is this 16-year-old bitching about the BMW her daddy bought her? What's going on? Why isn't Layne Staley in a pool making fun of Dave Mustaine?" And then they realize that Layne Staley is dead, Dave Mustaine supports Rick Santorum for President, and OH MY GOD MTV DOESN'T PLAY VIDEOS ANYMORE FUCKING SHIT NOW WHO ARE WE GOING TO YELL AT FOR NOT PLAYING ENOUGH METAL.

Of course, like those goofballs who turn to mainstream entertainment outlets and yell "what happened to rock music" while Dave Grohl gets drowned out by LMFAO at the Grammys, what Old Metal Dudes don't realize is that, like rock 'n' roll, music videos aren't gone--ya just have to find them in a different place, and that place is the Internet. Don't blame the Old Metal Dudes for not realizing this--after all, they are old, and old people don't like to spend any energy looking for new things. But God invented the Internet because she realized that eventually MTV would replace music videos with True Life: I Can't Stop Frenching Opossums or whatever, and she knew music videos would need a new home.

Music video is still a powerful buzz-creating medium thanks to social media, and unlike the old days, you don't have to suffer through some Republican named Kennedy (irony! Or something!) acting all "wacky" while introducing them. Hell, there are bands that spend more time coming up with awesome videos than they do writing memorable songs:



Of course, running into shit with a car was cooler (if not as musically...something) when Red Fang did it in the "Wires" video, proving that you can actually still put a good song in your kickass video and still gain nearly 500,000 views (yeah, OK Go has had over 13 million since the Super Bowl, but those classists were also sponsored by Chevrolet. YOUR BAILOUT DOLLARS AT WORK):



Which brings us to the whole point of this entire blog post. Helms Alee, one of my favorite current heavy bands, have finally completed the video for the schizophrenically brilliant "8/16," from one of last year's best albums, Weatherhead. The video takes us back to that more innocent time that the headbangers of yore still yearn for; when Temple of the Dog rocked in a field, Riki Rachtman went through a cake at Axl's wedding, and Anthony Kiedis' titties bounced in slow motion...all on Beavis & Butthead, a show that, ironically enough, is now airing new episodes on MTV--only along with the occasional video, they make fun of clips from Snooki Fucks Oompa Loompas or whatever that show's called. Don't worry; you don't need to watch MTV to see the show. I'm sure you can find clips on YouTube.

Anyway. Watch this video and develop the same crush on this band that i've had for a year and a half now. As of this posting, they have 2,166 views, thanks to the Kickstarters who donated to get the video made. Who needs Obama's bailout money, anyway? Wait, did Chevy even get bailout money? And don't i hate Kickstarter? Why is Hozi pooping in the grass? I'm so confused. AGING, AMIRITE?

Hurry Up Shotgun and the beauty of The Hook

I could be alone in this assertion--and i don't think i am--but writing a good vocal has to be the most difficult part of being in a band and writing music. Aside from the simple reality that writing catchy and unique pop melodies is goddamn hard, there's a level of vulnerability that comes with sharing your voice and words with the world that is far more daunting than the simple execution of riffs and rhythms. Getting up in front of an audience and singing words you have crafted yourself while under the judging gaze of the drunken, heckling masses isn't just an act of skill or technique--it's an act of bravery, of emotional nudity. It's even worse when having vocal-only band practices to add the lyrics to the music, knowing you're about to sing words you're unsure of in front of the three guys most likely to tell you how much they suck.

To me, this is a large part of why so many bands--mostly on the less-than-national level, but some big dogs too--seem to treat their vocals, maybe not as an afterthought, but not as important as the music. Vocals get buried, processed in effects, and the hummable bits--the hooks--get lost. And of course, in many genres the idea of actually singing the lyrics is shelved in favor of full-throated screams, yelps, barks, and other non-musical vocalizings. And sure, these choices all have their place and their purpose (I can't really picture the Jesus Lizard with three-part harmonies, and Six Finger Satellite wouldn't be the same without J. Ryan creepily croaking all over everything), but there's just something about having the balls to make sure everyone knows just what the hell you're saying up there (and letting everyone know that you actually thought "my lifestyle determines my deathstyle" was a good lyric, right Jaymz?), and presenting it with a melody that commands memorization, that it begs the question--what's everyone else hiding?

Of course, I could be projecting. And after all, not every earworm is necessarily a good thing.

"And once the creature wraps itself around your cerebral cortex, Chekov, you will hear 'Surfin' Bird' on a loop, leaving you susceptible to...suggestion"

This is why the vocals that encase Hurry Up Shotgun's self-titled late-2011 disc in a gauzy, blissful three-part harmony wrapper should be recognized as the tremendous achievement they are.



They sneak up on ya, it's true: the opening "Reason" isn't necessarily peppered with multiple vocal tracks or backing vocals; it's simply a well-crafted Hot Snakes-ey slice of downstroke guitar, pulsing drums, and good ol'-fashioned full-throated rock-n-roll belting, with plenty of upper-register "YEAHs" to keep you listening. It's not until halfway through "Watermelon Sugar," the jam that rests in the tried and true track 2 "hit single" pocket, that the listener is informed that--guess what?--this serviceable post-punk trio can FUCKING SING, and are about to take what you thought was going to be a pretty above-average collection of driving, if unmemorable tunes and push them waaaaaay into the stratosphere and deeeeeep into your thinkmeats. Relax, Chekov. This won't hurt.

That's not meant as a dig on Hurry Up Shotgun's instrumentation, by the way--their riffs and chord progressions and drumming are great--but let's be honest: there are plenty of indie-rockers banging out the Wipers and Superchunk riffs these days, and "great" doesn't necessarily lead to "memorable." Fortunately, Hurry Up Shotgun as an album is anything but forgettable, thanks to brilliant sequencing. Each song delivers just a little bit more sugar; the heavy petting in "Watermelon Sugar" leads to some "ok, just the tip" in "Paths," and pretty soon the first truly grandiose moment of the album is exploding in your brain (yeah, that's where) as the second half of "Swim" is having its way with you--completely consensually, of course, as these guys are lovers, not fighters. But seriously, "Swim's" final two minutes are a revelation on par with any of the best moments of Menthol's 2002 indie-synth-rock power-pop ode to the Cars, Danger: Rock Science! (a lost new wave power-pop classic of the early millennium, and if you've heard it you understand the huge compliment i have just bestowed).

It doesn't let up from there. "The Birds of Islam" add a degree of Hum-inspired heaviness to the proceedings, while "Little Pieces" lays down keyboard lines lifted from some mid-80s post-apocalyptic d-movie Thunderdome ripoff, all while delivering the check-cashing goods: The Hooks. For all the work that was put into the music--and it's obvious these guys put in the work--they put even more into The Hooks. And boy howdy does that work pay off in "Girl From CA," an album-closer so thoroughly catchy and memorable that it single-handedly makes me mad that i listened to this album too late to put it into my top 5 of 2011. I haven't heard harmonies this honey-thick drizzled over rock this hard since the Galactic Cowboys (another band you could stand to revisit if that name-drop just triggered an "oh SHIT, i forgot about them!" moment).

And i think that's something that loud, driving, occasionally noisy rock and roll has to reclaim from the overly-precious, NPR-approved twee indie "rockers" that dominate the venues these days. Look, y'all know me--i loves it loud, and i loves it noisy, but dammit, i also loves it pretty. And i really loves it when it's all three at once. Why should the beardos get all the pretty melodies?* If more bands followed Hurry Up Shotgun's lead, maybe--just maybe--we could take indie rock band from the wimps, or at least carve out our own little piece of Fantasy Island paradise on Ceti Alpha V. Save us, Hurry Up Shotgun! command us with your mind-control earworms, your purple literary references, your rich Corinthian accent, and your heaving, prosthetic chest! It is very cold...in spaaaaaaaaace...


Yeah, i just metaphored Hurry Up Shotgun into Khan Noonien Singh. What of it? How else was i gonna tie the end of this post in with those Chekov references from early on?

*This is not to say that all wussy, twee beardo folksters have the market cornered on catchy pop hooks--if i ever leave a Bon Iver song able to remember a single goddamn melody line mumbled outta that affected falsetto, i'll eat Justin Vernon's knit hat.

Rockometry 101 with Elusive Nonagons

Now that i'm once again in possession of a computer that doesn't want to shut down every 10 minutes as it gets used, maybe i'll be motivated once again to start updating regularly. I still haven't quite worked out a regular routine of motivating myself to sit and write after my 9 PM dinner, which, after a long 8-hour second shift, leaves me more inclined to zonk out on the couch as i continue to plow through Parks and Recreation on Netflix. Still, i have to make this work somehow, so let's get back into it with some geometry-themed bands that have just put out some baller new tunes in the last week or so.

First off, my boys in Chicago's obtuse-angled, math-addled post-punk dynamo Nonagon have unleashed People Live Everywhere, a sort of obviously-titled 5-song blur of rhythmic 90-degree turns, occasionally jerky grooves, and always hard-driving, serrated tunage. A "Mission of Burma moves 8 hours down the coast to DC and recruits the Jawbox rhythm section" fanfic of a band, Nonagon is anchored by drummer Tony Aimone, formerly of Chicago ska-punks The Blue Meanies, who i once saw cover Operation Ivy in front of a packed and pulsing throng of Concert Cafe kids in Green Bay, only to follow it up by saying "ok, now never listen to that band again; listen to this instead" and launching into "Ace of Spades." Aimone sends Nonagon's abrasive riffs through time signatures even and odd, while bassist Robert Gomez and guitarist (and infectiously energetic superfan of all things rockin') John Hastie sweat, churn, and scream. People Live Everywhere is complex and intelligent, but not exhaustingly so; it doesn't take an accounting degree to latch onto the lurching and occasionally downright funky guitar play happening in songs like "The Swifts," with its tense competing dual vocal lines that converge in a "it's still not easy!" release of balls-out energy.

As with so many of the bands i love, Nonagon fits squarely in the "why don't more people know about this band?" category, but if you're in Chicago this Friday, February 10th, you can rectify it by attending their record release show for People Live Everywhere at the best bar in Chicago, Quenchers Saloon on the corner of Western and Fullerton. Wereworm and Radiant Republic of Texas are playing too, which officially makes the lineup unfuckwithable.



Speaking of amazing record release shows, i spent this past Friday night losing my goddamn mind thanks to a downright transcendant set by Milwaukee's own Elusive Parallelograms--obviously the second-place finisher in tonight's geometry-band-name throwdown, but never mind that. Friday night's Cactus Club show saw the release of their own new EP, the six-song Habits, a deliriously trippy sixteen minutes of psychedelic Built to Spill-flavored indie rock that easily cements the Parallelograms as one of Milwaukee's most crucially underrated bands (despite a surprisingly healthy turnout for the release show).

The not-so-secret weapon of the EP sound is their interweaving triple-guitar attack--seemingly competing lead lines that, much like Nonagon's vocals, seem like they should logically clash but fit together like the weave of a gauzy, enveloping blanket of blissed-out fuzz, occasionally locking into unison for glorious riffs like the BtS-biting "Collapse" (which i swear is actually lifted from a Built to Spill song, but i can't for the life of me track it down, and it is driving me insane. Comment if you can clue me in).

I've been seeing Elusive Parallelograms do their thing in the Borg Wards and Cactus Clubs of Milwaukee for several years now, and, real talk: i've seen them be excellent, and i've seen them at their shambolic, trainwreck worst, their fate generally decided by the inebriation level of their now-former drummer. The band that took the stage on Friday with now-exiting second drummer Eric Reiter was an assured, confident force of screaming slide guitar, airy vocals, and a solidly locked-in rhythm section (despite a misbehaving bass drum that at one point turned so far to one side that Reiter was sitting on his floor tom in order to keep the beat going). It may have been the fact that i had two Spotted Cows on an empty stomach, but it took a lot of restraint on my part to not hug guitarist Stefan Dostanic and go completely fanboy on him. Seeing a Milwaukee band grow from a shaky cauldron of occasional brilliance and occasional disaster to a fully-functional and tightly-wound machine of still-loose, pure room-filling vibe is a thrilling thing to behold, and i'm damn proud of these guys and the killer set of tunes they just unleashed.

Both releases from Elusive Parallelograms and Nonagon can be streamed at Bandcamp, so stop reading my purple prose and make your own judgment call.

A 2011 year-end meme, about a week late.

I'm a week and a half into a new job in customer service/sales at a music store, and my new second-ish shift schedule has seriously discombobulated my writing schedule. It's my sincere intention to keep this blog going, and in fact, to contribute even more to places like AV Club Milwaukee and Tiny Mix Tapes this year, but i have to work out this whole "get home at 8:30 PM and start cooking dinner" thing.

One piece of annual writing that was a casualty of my first-week-at-the-new-job scatterbrainedness was the usual year-end stock-taking that most of us journaling types do (especially those still holding onto their Livejournals). So in an attempt to get myself back into the swing of things, here's the annual year-end meme that always floats around the ol' LJ. When you get out of a writing habit, it's ok to use a crutch until you can walk on your own again, after all.


40 QUESTIONS FOR 2011

01. What did you do in 2011 that you'd never done before?

Let's establish some common themes right off the bat - 2011 for me was inexorably defined by two awful life events and one excellent one. One thing i've never done before was spend seven months on unemployment...and i hope to never have to do that again. This was compounded by something else i'd never done before in 2011--answer a doctor that asked my mother and me, "if something happens and your father is on life support, do you want us to keep him plugged in?"

However, on the plus side of the ledger, this year i went on a tour where i played two sets a night with two bands, and outside a three-day weekend in 2003, i had never done that before. I visited Fermilab and the Tevatron as part of the first public tour that was allowed in to the Tevatron's collision detector. This was the first year i ever actively partook in a campaign to recall a sitting state governor. And this was the first year that i ever moved in with Liz and jointly adopted a baby kitten with her. Big win.

02. Did you keep your new years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

I didn't really make any New Year's resolutions last year. This year i resolve to contribute more to local media and (hopefully) finally get a fucking book started.

03. Did anyone close to you give birth?

I'm a terrible person. I'm sure someone i know had a kid this year, and frankly, i can't think of a single one of them. So no one close to me, i suppose.

04. Did anyone close to you die?

Elliott Turton died on stage in Austin with Waxeater before being revived a minute or so later by Ashlee Litkey. I feel very fortunate that i'm in the rare position of being able to answer this question in the affirmative without actually having lost someone.

Of course, in October my family very nearly lost my father when he fell asleep in a hospital waiting room in Madison and didn't wake up. But he's still here, laughing in Death's face, if not audibly, thanks to the trach tube in his neck. Keep laughing, Dad; i'm not ready to see you go yet.

05. What countries did you visit?

Um...we drove through the countryside in Pennsylvania?

06. What would you like to have in 2012 that you lacked in 2011?

I already have the most important thing that i lacked in 2011--a new job. I also will have the new record that IfIHadAHiFi was supposed to have released last year--the Nada Surf +3 EP. Aside from that, a governor who actually gives a shit about working class Wisconsinites would be nice.

07. What date from 2011 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

Let's take a break from Dad's health and focus on something awesome: On July 9, IfIHadAHiFi played a show with ARCHERS OF LOAF, and it was one of the happiest, most triumphant days of my musical life.

Another date that i will always remember: March 12 -- 100,000 people and about 100,000 tons of farm machinery descended on the Madison capitol to protest Scott Walker's attack on working-class union employees in Wisconsin. I have never before been so proud to be involved in the democratic process, and in a year after one where Russ Feingold was voted out of office in favor of a cranky, privileged "businessman" who married into his fortune, and a year where Mr. "Hope and Change" signed a bill that allows American citizens to be held by the military indefinitely without a trial, I need the memory of 100,000 pissed off Badger Staters to keep the hope alive that in America, people are actually fundamentally decent and care about their neighbors and understand that no man is an island.



08. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Getting through it.

Aside from that, I'm pretty proud of this:



"Imperial Walker" raised over $400 for Russ Feingold's Progressives United PAC, and it got us a snarky "review" in the largest Republican propaganda rag in the nation, the National Review. Robert Verbruggen is apparently one of those doudes that likes to run photos of himself looking "thoughtful" in order to establish an image as a "intellectual" mind. He's a Republican who likes metal, which probably means that he's a huge Rush and Dream Theater fan. But briefly in early March, he got all condescending in a hilariously misguided attempt to knock a bunch of snotty noise-punks down a peg, while raising our national profile a little bit. WE WIN.

Look at this lame tuxedo-shirt asshole. $10 says he's drinking schnapps

09. What was your biggest failure?

The release of Nada Surf +3 was delayed because we had a brainfart and used a sample that we forgot we'd have to clear. With everything that i had to deal with in 2011, i have to say, getting through it makes me feel like a fucking WINNER, so this little hiccup isn't really such big shakes. Although i do feel pretty bad that we cost Dan money for a CD repress.

Oh! Also, i failed to complete the article i wanted to write about Ashley and Maria's totally legal Wisconsin marriage. I WILL DO THIS.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

I did not!

11. What was the best thing you bought?

The new litter box, cat toys, and shots for Thackery Binx!

Get the earring, Binx! get it!

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?

Matt Gentling, who let my band open for his simply because i sent him a message and asked nicely. Dude, seriously?!?

Ashlee Litkey, who didn't let Elliott die.

The doctors in Madison who didn't let my dad die.

Ashley and Maria got married!

Also, i can't express enough how much i appreciate the understanding and support of my friends during everything that happened to me this year. Everyone who ever asked me "how's your dad?" at Cactus Club--that meant so much, you guys. My old roommate Andrew was incredibly understanding of my financial situation, and i'm very happy that soon i'll be able to repay him the several hundred dollars in utility and cable bills that i owe him as a result of his understanding. And Liz--i hope that she knows how much i treasured her company, her understanding, and her love and support this year. I hope i show her that often enough.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?

Easy: Scott Walker.

Here's the thing--at the beginning of 2011, i was totally over the 2010 election, and willing to move forward and deal with the fact that, hey, a Republican won. Fine. It's how elections work--sometimes the person you don't like wins. But his subsequent overreach and naked power-and-wealth grabbing on behalf of campaign contributors, corporations, and Rich Assholes in general was enough to enrage a lot of conservatives in Wisconsin, so you can imagine how appalled I was.

14. Where did most of your money go?

The most basic bare essentials.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

IFIHADAHIFI - Bottom Lounge - Chicago : July 2011 from GONZO CHICAGO on Vimeo.

16. What song will always remind you of 2011?

"Mary Jane's Last Dance" by NAP JUSTICE!

17. Compared to this time last year, you are:
hotter of colder? The apartment with Andrew was a big of a sauna, so colder.
Fatter or thinner? Static.
more active or lazier? I don't think there's much change here, either.

18. What do you wish you'd done more of?

Every year, i wish i wrote more. But i really wish i had read more.

19. What do you wish you'd done less of?

Nothing (literally--as in, i wish there were fewer times where i did nothing).

20. How will you be spending/did you spend Christmas?

Spent the day with my family, as i always do. Spent the night with Liz's family watching Aaron Rodgers throw 5 touchdown passes against the Chicago Lolbears.

22. Did you fall in love in 2011?

Fuck yeah i did.

23. How many one-night stands?

This really is kind of a dumb question. Who would be really proud of, like, hooking up one-time-only with, like, a dozen random dudes or chicks in a calendar year?

24. What was your favorite TV program?

I don't watch a lot of first-run TV, but my favorite show via DVR and Netflix this year was Louie, by a country mile. The way Louis CK confronts the uncomfortable absurdities of life is thought-provoking, boundary-pushing, and piss-your-pants funny.

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?

I really didn't hate Scott Walker at this time last year, i swear to god. But now...

26. What was the best book you read?

I finally finished Leon Lederman's The God Particle, a history of particle physics focusing on the Higgs Boson. Sexy Results, y'all. See ya on Feb. 18.

27. What was your greatest musical discovery?

HiFi band pal Russian Mike came to town with his new alt-country-flavored indie-freakout Memory Map, and i was unable to shut up about them all year. If you haven't listened to them by now, well, i've given up hope on you.

28. What did you want and get?

A new job!

29. What did you want and not get?

A new job in the writing biz! Ah well. No one wants to hear from someone who doesn't like popular things.

30. What was your favorite film of this year?

Another year of criminal under-attendance in movie theaters. But X-Men: First Class was a wholly unexpected and welcome return to the time when X-Men films kicked piles of ass. Yeah, yeah, purists got all pissy that the first class wasn't the real first class of Cyclops, Angel, Marvel Girl, Beast and Iceman, but quite frankly, it was the most engaging and character-driven of all the X-films, and i'm pretty sure that includes X2. Also, a mainstream movie that features so many allegories for so many facets of the LGBT struggle with societal acceptance merits years and years of revisiting, and hopefully worthy sequels (since they're inevitable anyway).

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

You know...i honestly don't remember. Karaoke?

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

You know, it's weird--had i not lost my job this year, and had my family not had to endure what it had to endure, it would have, in many ways, been Just Another Year (albeit one with a much-welcomed upswing in the personal life). But having endured the challenges of 2011, and done so in a position to make the subsequent years more fulfilling in the long term, has made the ending of 2011 intensely satisfying. I couldn't be prouder of my survival this year.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2011?

Mondo Lucha hoodie.

34. What kept you sane?

Liz, the kitties, and rock and roll. And they really did keep me sane this year. True stuff.

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

Liz has this thing that she calls her "list," a list of five(?) celebrities that, should she be in a position to sleep with them, she is given a free pass by whomever she is dating at the time. She gives me a lot of grief for my weak attempt at a "list," because whenever i mention potential candidates, it's always people i fancy for their brains and sense of humor, not purely based on their looks.

But if there was one famous person this year that i would add to that list, based purely on raw, unadulterated HOT, it would be Dr. Who's Amy Pond, Karen Gillan. I know she's like 23 in real life, but whatever, that's legal.



I mean, in her first episode, she's dressed up like Sexy Cop. NOT FUCKING FAIR.

35. What was your favorite video game of the year?

The original Legend of Zelda for the NES.


36. Who has made the most cameos in your dreams this year?

See #34

37. Who did you miss?

I got to see a lot of people this year despite my financial constraints! Some Oakland/SF pals, Police Teeth, Waxeater, and several other band pals, even Kory made it to town. I guess i'll say Jeff and Maija in Los Angeles, because i didn't see them in calendar year 2011, which was the first time since like 2007 or 2008 that i didn't see them.

38. Who was the best new person you met?



(4-way runners-up: all four members of Archers of Loaf)

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2011:

For years i've considered my friends part of my family, but there's something to be said for the real deal, and i love my fucking family.

Last weekend i took Liz up to the large Mueller family Christmas gathering on my mom's side, where my great-aunts, the nuns who are my grandma's sisters, told me it was great to see me and talked to me about everything my family's been through this year. While we talked about my parents, one of the Sisters said to me, "you know she's an amazing woman." I nearly started crying, but i nodded and smiled instead.

40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:

All of this.

Life as a Scatterbrain

Yesterday i watched the documentary Conan O'Brien Can't Stop, a compelling look inside O'Brien's "Legally Prohibited From Being Funny on Television Tour," which bridged the end of his Tonight Show run and the beginning of his TBS talk show. The film's above all a peek into Conan O'Brien the workaholic--the man who couldn't sit for six months while negotiating and planning a new TV show (which for most people would be a full-time job in and of itself, i'm sure). No, he had to also put together a 90-minute touring stage show to keep him occupied for what i can only assume is 16 hours a day--more if he gets less than eight hours sleep per night. Even during the documentary, Conan seems to be at times performing for the camera, only allowing himself to not be funny (or at least allowing himself to be pissy--i'm not entirely sure he's capable of being unfunny while he's awake) during brief, humanizing moments.

Today i read this GQ profile on Louis C.K., the writer, director, executive producer, editor, and star of possibly the best, most powerful show on television right now. The man's DIY cred is at an all-time high thanks to banking a million bucks through direct downloads of his latest comedy special, Louis C.K. Live at the Beacon Theater, a show that he, well, wrote, produced and performed himself, then sold directly to the public through his own website, in the tradition of Radiohead, Nine Inch Nails, or any of those other bands that came into prominence thanks to major media outlets, then flipped the script by taking their fans with them into the independent wilderness. Of course, Louis obviously got to this point through a ton of work and dedication on his own--as Patton Oswalt glowingly points out in the GQ piece, "There are a lot of comedians who have the same potential, talentwise, that Louis has, but very few have the level of commitment he does."

This week's Monday Night RAW opened with a truly special moment for independent wrestling fans everywhere, as indie mainstays-turned-WWE Superstars CM Punk and Daniel Bryan stood in the same ring, holding the top two championships of the largest "sports entertainment" company in the world after years of toil and sweat as "small" wrestlers who don't have the look of classically marketable WWE superheroes like Triple H and John Cena:



People who follow wrestling have some inkling of what a hard, lonely road it can be to get somewhere and "make it" in the business--heck, only experiencing the peripheral fringes of the biz myself, i can see that while pro wrestling is full of amazing, hardworking people, it's also full of blowhard alpha-males only looking out for themselves, and i'm sure navigating that minefield is as difficult as perfecting the craft itself. But reading Punk's Twitter is like attending an online master seminar in drive and dedication--the dude claims to never sleep (and judging by the ever-present bags under his eyes, i believe it), and he's constantly on the move.

I often get accused of jealousy when writing about perceived bullshit in the world of music--oh, i'm just bitter because my band isn't as popular as the one i'm criticizing, my band doesn't sell, etc. While it's largely an empty, boilerplate critique--i suppose Roger Ebert is just jealous of all the filmmakers he gives negative reviews to, and his entire career is one big snit-fit because Beyond the Valley of the Dolls wasn't a blockbuster--the truth is that there is one thing that i envy in all the entertainers, artists, and musicians that i admire: their tireless work ethic.

There's a lot of creative stuff i love doing. I love drumming. I love writing songs and playing them in front of people (and yes, i also love the validation that comes when people actually connect with what we've done). I love writing. I love announcing roller derby. I loved being on the radio. But for one reason or another, i've never had the work ethic or drive to pick one of these things and pursue it until i collapsed dead from exhaustive excellence. I'm an above-average drummer if we're being charitable, and i play in an above-average band (if we're being charitable) that some people like but most people tolerate and ignore. I love calling roller derby, but i have no desire to throw myself as fully into that world as many of my announcing colleagues have. I loved being on the radio, but not so much that the world of commercial radio didn't send me screaming from the business (not to mention that the prospect of a nomadic life chasing the next rung on the ladder from one market to the next seemed like the most miserable existence ever to a 24-year-old homebody who went to college in Oshkosh because it was close to home).

When i lost my job in May, i suddenly had lots of free time to be creative and do things i never had the time to do. And while job hunting is a full-time job in and of itself, and thus i shouldn't beat myself up too much, there's a part of me that is mildly annoyed with myself that instead of starting work on my book ideas, i started this blog instead. The instant gratification of the "publish post" button is a quicker fix than the certainly more satisfying, but grinding, result of stringing together 50,000 words about one subject. It's a trap!

I do feel like i'm always busy, but instead of picking one thing to pursue nonstop, i picked several, in between lots of reading and watching TV. Jack of all trades, master of none, as the saying goes.

And now i'm starting a new job on Monday, one i'm excited but simultaneously nervous about. I left banking and customer service four years ago and lucked into a job copywriting for a local gaming website because, well, i wanted to do something creative for eight hours every day. When i lost that job in May, i looked for something else in the writing world, but unfortunately this economy wasn't having it. So back i go to customer service, but customer service in the music world, which excites me--working for a music store is going to be fantastic, and after months of going stir-crazy while trying to remain productive, i'm stoked to have something to do for eight hours a day again.

But i'd be lying if impending change wasn't spooking me out just a bit. My new second-shift-ish hours are filling my head with questions: will i still be able to keep up with this blog? Will i still be able to find the time to pursue that writing dream by freelancing for others? Will my shaky, scatterbrained sense of work ethic condemn me to nights of couch-surfing in lieu of maximizing my free time?

I'll never be Conan O'Brien, Louis C.K., or CM Punk. That much is obvious. The window for that obsessive single-mindedness has long closed. But as i start this next chapter of my life, it's important for me to prioritize what i do have: a still-stimulating band, a roller derby league that claims to be glad to have me, outlets for my rants and raves, and last but best, an awesome relationship with someone supportive of all of it. All things considered, living DJ Hostettler's life may not be as glamorous as that of the real workhorse stars in the world, but it's still a pretty charmed life as it is.

CRISIS IN MILWAUKEE: Brewtown All-Ages Kids Believe the Rave is a Good Venue

If the emergence over the past few years of the Pabst Theater/Turner Hall/Riverside Theater group of venues as a music powerhouse in Milwaukee has been good for only one thing (and hey, it's been good for several), it's the number of bands it has pulled away from The Rave/Eagles Ballroom. A dire cavern with the atmosphere of your car's used air filter, most Milwaukeeans view The Rave as a cesspool of horrible sound, overpriced drinks and security guards that apparently didn't get their fill of beating up the weird kids during high school. Thankfully, since the Pabst group's rise to prominence, most of the national indie touring acts worth a damn have abandoned The Rave and left it to the metal, hip-hop, and juggalo scenes (which means that, unfortunately, one still has to endure watered-down $7 MGDs in order to see Anthrax or Mastodon).

So of course, much of Milwaukee had a good laugh when we found out that The Rave was awarded Alternative Press' reader's poll "Best Venue for a Show" honors. Sure, there was some gnashing of teeth as well, but that was from people who have forgotten Alternative Press' primary demographic: under-21 mallpunks with swoopy hair who apparently want Fall Out Boy to reunite.

Alternative Press stirs conflicting emotions in me: their editor-in-chief, Jason Pettigrew, is unquestionably the man. He's nutty, he's funny, and he has generally great taste in music. He's one of the guys who started AP when it covered bands like The Jesus Lizard and Killdozer and Dinosaur Jr., and--trump card--he's been a vocal supporter of my band in their pages. We were one of their 2005 "Bands you need to hear" (along with fellow Milwaukeeans Since By Man, if i recall correctly), and Jason said nice things about our first record in their pages in 2001. That being said, a glance at the readers' poll results for Live Band of the Year is enough to see that the magazine's target demo doesn't exactly intersect with ours.

Black Veil Brides, aka Five Nikki Sixxes

So with this in mind, it's not surprising that The Rave garnered so much support from Milwaukee mallpunx. Where else in town is Paramore gonna play? For these kids, The Rave is the only game in town. If anything, today's Rave-award-winning news reminded me that Milwaukee is still sorely in need of a viable all-ages venue.

Once upon a dream, Milwaukee had The Globe, a bar that altruistically disconnected its taps during late afternoons and put on all-ages shows featuring the same bands that would play for the over-21 set later in the evening. I doubt they made any money from this, since everyone knows that bars book bands to sell booze, but the desire to expose the kids to cool bands like Jawbreaker and The Dismemberment Plan was still a priority. Since the Globe closed down, there's been the occasional attempt to mimic its setup elsewhere--Cactus Club tried a couple all-ages shows (but if memory serves, got hassled by the man for its trouble and said the hell with it), and Mad Planet kept it going for a couple years before the attendance stopped justifying the effort. Milwaukee still has the all-ages Borg Ward DIY space, which is a treasure, but doesn't really pull the folks in unless they're booking hardcore or metal. We've also got the Miramar Theatre, but unless you know you can pull 200 kids, the cost to rent the space is prohibitive (which, what can you do? You can't sell beer to kids).

So there's really no viable space for small-scale indie bands to get in front of the under-21 crew in Milwaukee, and not being a businessman, i'm not sure what the solution is. Then again, i'm not sure if anyone wants a solution. While "researching" this blog post (read: chatting on Facebook), it was revealed that the Miramar's hosting a "F#@! Snow, Party! Show" in January with a bunch of local/regional bands that, judging from their haircuts, are right in the AltPress wheelhouse--including readers' poll winners for "My Hometown Hero (a.k.a. best unsigned band from my hometown)," Milwaukee's own Take the Day. Wait, who the hell are Take the Day and why haven't I heard of them?



Ooooh, that's why.

So, i dunno. Milwaukee, what do you think? Is the fact that kids in Milwaukee apparently consider The Rave a "fucking huge, beautiful, and haunted" place to see bands evidence that kids in Milwaukee are in desperate need of more options? I tend to think that most people longing for a return to the days of The Globe want kids to have a chance to see killer, smaller-scale indie rock bands in a cool setting; would kids even come out for music that doesn't sound like this?



I don't know. I'm old and out of touch (if Take the Day's 3,131 Facebook fans are any indication). Help me understand the children.

The Great Record Excavation: C is for The Candy Machine

The Albums: The Candy Machine, #25 and A Modest Proposal (#25: Skene!, 1993; A Modest Proposal: Skene!/Eastwest, 1994

Who they were: Not much out there on the interwebs about this band anymore. The Candy Machine were based in Baltimore in the early 1990s. If from that information and a cursory knowledge of what normally can be found in my music collection, you were to infer that they were part of that era's Dischord/Desoto Records post-hardcore scene, you'd get a gold star, skip.

Where i got the record: is, in this case, not as interesting a story as why i bought them. Back in 1998, Yale Delay, the Wizard, and our friend Mandy started a silly little post-punk noise band called The Pop Machine. Our second show ever took place in a little coffee shop in Green Bay called the Factory, and we opened for a little Washington, DC based rock band called Smart Went Crazy. The vocalist for that band (who are essential listening, if you're not familiar) was a rad dude by the name of Chad Clark, who went on to form The Beauty Pill after Smart Went Crazy broke up on that tour (as the promoter, Rich Winker, claimed, in his living room the next morning, but that has little to do with this story). After we played our opening set, Chad was incredibly, flatteringly complimentary of us, saying he was shocked to learn that it was our second show. He then asked us if we had ever heard of a band called The Candy Machine, saying that he saw a lot of similarities between our band and that one. Curious, i picked up their first two discs from some Fox Valley used CD store or another, and gave 'em a spin or two before filing them away. To be honest, i didn't hear a lot of similarities between them and us, and i must not have been all that taken with the band, because i don't think i've touched these CDs since then.

Do they hold up? Here's the first fun thing i noticed about A Modest Proposal: this record came out on Eastwest Records in '94, which at the time was a Fake Indie subdivision of Atlantic Records. Back then, all the majors had these little satellite labels that got pasted on their "alternative" records in lieu of the majors' logo, lest the band have to deal with accusations of "selling out" (not like this worked; the zines caught on to that trick pretty fast, so Jawbox got plenty of guff for going major label, even though Atlantic slapped the vanity label "Tag Records" on them. Of course, the major label Jawbox record is as good or better than anything they put out on Dischord, so whatever). Thinking about the whole "fake indie label" routine in 2011 is powerfully weird; these days, if a big indie band signs to a major, no one blinks an eye, and in some cases, the reaction is one of "why would you do that? The majors are dying." In an age where indie bands are purposely tailoring their music to appeal to talent buyers for TV soundtracks and iPod commercials, and not being remotely shy about it (after all, no one's buying records anymore, right?), it's funny to remember a time when being perceived as a "sellout" was such a scarlet letter than majors tried to hide their dollar bills as much as possible.

In 2011, it's almost baffling listening to these records and thinking that The Candy Machine ever garnered major-label interest. Their sound is classic early-90s DC post-hardcore in the vein of Fugazi, landing directly in a sweet spot between the Monorchid's screaming hysterics and The Most Secret Method's unsettling, mellowed grooves. (Then again, 1993 was the year of In on the Killtaker, when music writers who didn't really have a grasp on Fugazi's ethics were certain that they'd be the next Nirvana, so it follows that a major in that era would want to throw an advance at any band with even a passing Fugazi similarity.) #25 in particular echoes many of Fugazi's quieter, more dub-inspired jams; the dreamy "Two Figures" features subtly rolling drums, a continually repeating bass/guitar groove, and laid back, crooning vocals from often-shouty frontman Peter Quinn.

While #25 is a heck of a debut full-length, and a solid entry onto the shelf of Fugazi soundalikes that emerged alongside Ian and company, the sophomore A Modest Proposal is the real winner here. #25 has a pretty homogeneous vibe throughout; Proposal shifts from high-energy post-punk car crash jams back down to the low-key interludes of the debut, while mixing up the instrumentation on those more meditative tracks. Random horns flow in and out of the mix, hooting or squawking based on requirement. There's a mature flow and thoughtful sequencing happening that makes Proposal a much more rewarding listen than #25. In songs like Proposal's "The Over Under Rule in Progress," there's a nervous energy undercutting the restraint, always threatening to and occasionally bubbling above the surface into an explosion of dynamics and discordance.

Looking back, i guess i can see why i didn't give these records too much of my attention back when i was 24; a lot of these tracks probably sounded awfully too "mellow" for my ears and just not rockin' enough, i dunno. But while a band like the Monorchid may still feel more viscerally exciting, with the constant threat of derailment always lording over their deliriously shambolic clanks and screeks, there's definitely room in my musical diet for some Candy Machine. I'm really glad i went back to these records; anyone with a taste for early 90s noise-rock would likely agree, i suspect. (Hey Absolutely guys--check these records out if you haven't yet!)

Download the first two Candy Machine records here.