dpums 2008: a couple lists

Too tired to write in sentences. Mostly. So, lists:

Who I managed to see at least some, and in some cases, all of:

American Relay. Reverend Deadeye. Bad Weather California. Overcasters. Bad Luck City. Orangu-tones. Rachel Pollard. Jason Cain. Aaron Collins. Ellison Park, George Inai, Blue Light. Joseph Pope III. Andy Tanner. Married in Berdichev. Andrea Ball, Jen Korte, Jack Redell. Cowboy Curse. Hearts of Palm. Bela Karoli. Hot IQs. Porlolo. And a few others bits here and there walking up and down Broadway. I didn't get to listen to everything I wanted to hear, but I listened to all I was able.


Some of the worst parts:

People talking louder than Porlolo’s set in the Skylark,
then the jukebox starting up.
Sketchy sound systems.
House music playing at Blue Ice during Cowboy Curse,
and American idol on a wide screen TV.
Trying to see two bands at once.
Not trying to see two bands at once.
Leaving in the middle of a set.
Just missing someone you really wanted to see.
Griping about this stuff.
Blisters on feet.
Being hungry and thirsty.
The hot hot sun.
Sitting on the itchy grass.
Forgetting to bring earplugs for the kids.
Being overwhelmed and overtired.
Sweaty and over-packed Hi-Dive.

Some of the best parts:

I hate being packed in, but it didn’t stop me from enjoying the show.
Friday night, appreciating what a great club the 3 Kings Tavern is.
The Overcasters and Bad Luck City back to back.
Not being able to stop smiling.
All those fabulous all-ages venues.
Being able to bring my kids Saturday.
My kids thanking me (so much) for taking them.
The people who stopped chatting and started listening to Porlolo.
Roger Green learning a Porlolo song on the stage,
and it still sounding amazing.
Cowboy Curse playing a great set in spite of the club.
Listening.
My daughter napping on a stack of carpets
Mellow singer/songwriter round sets.
Volunteering. Really.
Just the right-sized outdoor stage.
Nathaniel Rateliff pushing his gear around in a K-mart shopping cart.
Cold drinks.
Aaron Collins child-like-playful solo performance in Rock the Cradle.
Marching my children into the Skylark to hear Porlolo
and nobody stopping us.
Inviting people who don’t usually come out to the shows
and seeing them there.
So many creative and diversely talented folks doing their stuff.
Feeding my kids those yummy Sputnik french fries
one order sweet, one order white.)
Feeling the genuine and impossible-to-fabricate good-will vibe.
All the cool stuff I actually caught.
Realizing some festivals are not so bad.
And all this in Denver.

CD review: Bela Karoli, Furnished Rooms

Double-posted at The Donnybrook Writing Academy



Bela Karoli is complicated simplicity, a paradox. But this is a band that makes songs out of Emily Dickinson and T.S. Eliot poems for goodness sake. So complicated simplicity makes a kind of perfect sense.

Furnished Rooms, Bela Karoli’s debut release, will make you pay attention and listen to familiar sounds like they were new.

In the first track, “Snow,” the rich and warm signature upright bass sound of Julie Davis is followed by the artful bow strokes of Carrie Beeder’s violin and then by the recognizable airy tones of Brigid McAuliffe’s accordion. The music is as inventive and playful as you might suspect with that admittedly unusual orchestration.

The sense of warmth and palpable life that reside in these twelve songs will make you feel the air passing through vocal cords, in and out of accordion bellows, bringing oxygen to blood pumping through arms that move bows, fingers that pluck strings. I could wax on in this vein but then paradox arises again. There in the background is a machined rhythm of programmed drum tracks. Like in the song “Invertebrate” where the lyrics, “we are soft cells; we have metal shells” suggest a duality, the songs themselves also feel as if existing as a cellular life of their own though encased in that hard and cold shell. It’s a compelling contrast, though I have to admit I miss the presence of a human drummer.

Bela Karoli is like nothing you’ve heard before. Not exactly. Like their version of “Summertime” you’ll recognize it as familiar, sort of, but it’s not an instantaneous recognition. Like no other, this is a furnished room you’ll find yourself glad to be sitting in.