Solid State

Hear me now and believe me later: I will not mention the Red Sox again until at least October.

I went most of the year with nary a sports-related post, and they were the best team in the American League. I write one (mildly) comical post about my beloved Beantown nine and they self-destruct. Can those two things possibly be related, you ask? As any self-respecting Sox fan worth their Nomah jersey will tell you, yes. Yes, they can. We're that superstitious.

So that's that. I am declaring a sports moratorium from now until such time as it is reasonably safe to bring up the topic again (which quite honestly could be never).

Moving on, let's talk about the Seven Daysies awards, shall we?

Last Friday night was our annual Daysies awards party at the ECHO Center in Burlington. If you've never been, it is quite the to-do. The place is always mobbed with local luminaries dressed to the nines boozing and schmoozing like it's a post-Oscars party. In short, it is a lot of fun. And this year was no exception. Well, at least what little of the party I was able to attend.

You see, everyone who works for 7D has a specific job to on the big day in order for us to pull this thing off. In previous years, I was responsible for helping to set up the sound equipment because, as the "music guy," it is presumed that I know something about setting up PA equipment — I don't.

Anyway, this year 7D threw me a curveball, assigning me to oversee our weekly Friday night "Up Your Alley" concert series at Red Square with two of our interns from 5p.m. to 7 p.m. Just so we're clear, someone actually thought it would be a good idea to send the music editor and two college kids to the bar for two hours prior to the party. Seriously, that was my job for this year's Daysies. Awesome. Anyway, long story short, I couldn't make it to the ECHO Center until the party was about half over. We'll just leave it at that.

During the course of my Daysies carousing, I had several interesting conversations — with folks who shall remain nameless — concerning the need to revamp the music categories. I have to say, I kind of agree. While the old standbys do a decent job of recognizing the usual supects, there is room for improvement. The fact of the matter is that said usual suspects are going to win, year in and year out. Which is not say those folks are undeserving. Merely that we could do a better job of recognizing people for whom there simply isn't a legit category they can win.

My favorite suggestion from Friday night was to create a "Best Small Live Music Venue" award. The current category, "Best Live Music Venue,"  will always go to Higher Ground — and Nectar's will always be the runner-up. And I can't really argue with that. But here's the thing, the vast majority of venues in and around the state are — drum roll, please — small.

The Monkey House, Radio Bean and the Skinny Pancake (among others) are all deserving of Daysies recognition. Will any of those joints ever compete with HG or Nectar's? Nope. Not a chance. But why should they have to?

Going a step further, I would also like to see a category for "Best Live Music Venue Outside of Chittenden County." We do it for "Best Dance Club," ferchrissakes. How does it make sense not to have a similar category for places like Langdon Street, the Black Door or the Bees Knees? Answer: it doesn't.

Some other ideas:
Best New VT Band: I could swear we used to do this, maybe even as recently as last year. I love this category. (My vote for this year: a tie bewteen Rough Francis and Strength in Numbers)

Best College/Independant Radio Station: VPR will usually win the biggie. And they should. But how 'bout some love for the little guys? (My vote: WRUV barely nudges out the Radiator, mostly because of the sheer awesomeness of Exposure)

Best Music Festival/Outdoor Concert Series: Yeah, we have a "Best Fest" category that will always go to Jazz Fest or Brew Fest. That's cool. But why not recognize the Champlain Valley Folk Fest, or the NEKMF or even the WOKO Country Club Music Fest? Again, these guys are never going to stack up against Jazz Fest, or even Brew Fest. And again, they shouldn't have to. (My vote: I'll abstain here, though I think NEKMF probably wins a popular vote)

Best Music Journalist: OK, totally (mostly) kidding about this one.

So that's my two cents. If you could, what music categories would you most like to see in the Daysies?

*ring-ring. ring-ring* (click)

"Hello?"
"John?"
"Yes, this is John."
"John Smoltz?"
"Speaking."
"John, it's Theo. Theo Epstein."
"Oh, Theo. Hey, listen. About last night. I …
"John, John. It's OK. Don't worry about it."
"Really? Because I thou …"
"Look.I just thought you should hear this from me first. We're working on awaiver trade that would send you to the Brooklyn Cyclones for a hamsandwich and a bag of doorknobs."
"Wow. Well, I guess that seems reasonable under the circumstances. But I was kind of hoping …"
"It's a small bag."
"I see."
"Yeah … Um, I just wanted to, er, "thank you" for your services. And I hope you enjoyed your stay with the Boston Red Sox."
"Well, thanks for the opportunity, Theo."
"We'll see you in Cooperstown in a few years, buddy. Oh, and do you happen to have Tom Glavine's number?"

The preceding was a conversation I imagine to have taken place at some point after the bottom of the fourth inning of Red Sox pitcher John Smoltz's "Breakdown in the Bronx" at the hands of the hated New York Yankees last night. Ughhh.

With a huge 4-game Sox-Yanksseries underway, regular readers can probably guess where my head is atthe moment. (Come on, I've been pretty good about the sports stufflately. And it's Friday. Indulge me, OK?)

Anyway, as I often dowhile watching baseball — especially during a blowout — I startedpondering what sort of intro music I would choose if I were a proballplayer striding to the plate. As with many sports-relatedcontrivances (cheerleaders, announcers, etc.) I really think that intromusic should be incorporated into more facets of everyday life.(Although, the trend of introducing newlyweds at wedding receptions viamusic has gone too far. In the last two years I have been to two suchreceptions that left me cringing. At the first, the bride and groomwere introduced to the theme music from Kill Bill. The second? An electric piano version of "A Whole New World" from The Little Mermaid. I wish I was kidding.)

Youcan tell a lot about a person based on what sort of music they chooseas an introduction. The best is undoubtedly Yanks' closer MarianoRivera, who enters every game to the bruising strains of Metallica's "Enter Sandman." Even as a Sox fan, I have to acknowledge the consummate bad ass-itude in that, mostly because Rivera is a consummate bad ass. If you ever see it in person, you'll get chills. Trust me.

Theworst might be an Atlanta Braves player (whose name escapes me at themoment) who approaches to the plate to — and I'm not making this up —"Your Love" by The Outfield. Still, despite the thorough wussiness of that choice, it is kinda funny.

Personally, I tend to vacillate between a few different tunes. And I think they would work in most any situation, not just on the diamond. They are:

1. "The Imperial March" from Star Wars. Probably the most iconic intro music ever written.
2. "Loser" by Beck. Sort of a reverse psychology strategy here. Plus, I love that tune.
3. "The Price is Right" theme song. "Dan Bolles … come on down!"
4.The theme song from "Beverly Hills 90210." OK, this isn't my idea. Iheard it mentioned on an ESPN podcast recently. But that song might bethe single funniest way to enter a serious moment ever. Think about itfor a minute. (World Series Game 7. Two outs. Bottom of the ninth. Tiescore. And then … admit it, that's funny.)

I could go on withthis all day and night (and on certain occasions I have, believe me).But we're all busy people, right? So I put it to you, folks. If youcould, what would be your signature intro tune? Again, it doesn't haveto be a sports thing. What song would announce your presence at, say,the bank? Or work? Or the VD clinic? The floor is yours.

And while you think about that, here is the greatest pitch ever thrown (this is freakin' amazing):

This just in: Local hip hop group Neighborhood is back in action and have put out a casting call for extras for a music video they plan to shoot tomorrow (Friday) at Lift. The first 100 people to show up at the Church Street club at noon will have a crack at hip hop immortality. Or at least be on camera. I'm guessing booty-shakin' attire is encouraged.

For more info, email the folks at Lotus Entertainment: [email protected]

As promised in this week's column, Bite Torrent.

I'm sure many of you are planning to attend the debut (as a Vermont resident, anyway) of the state's most recent famous transplant, Ms. Neko Case, tonight at the Flynn. However, should you be otherwise seeking something to do, I might suggest swinging by ye olde Higher Ground Ballroom to catch Mos Def. I know, I know. Why would the guy from the local alt-weekly be telling you to go see a (relatively) mainstream dude like Mos Def? First of all, as anyone who has ever read "Stuff White People Like," already knows, white people love Mos Def. Second, dude's really good — and I say that as a music critic, not just a white guy. And third, our very own Death-defying rockers Rough Francis managed to score the opening slot for the show.

As it turns out, Mos (Mr. Def?) is a HUGE fan of Death (the band). He's mentioned them in numerous interviews in recent months, citing the lyrical brilliance of the Brothers Hackney as well as their all-around rockitude. He is also reportedly working on a Death documentary. Oh yeah, he also approched Rough Francis about playing tonight's show. Killer.
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According to a recent press release Team Flinn is expanding. "Team Flinn" of course refers to longtime B-town songwriter Aaron Flinn, who has got to be one of the nicest people I know. Pretty solid tunesmith to boot. Anyway, he's just signed a deal with Bluebird Promotions, a Colchester-based firm that handles mostly radio promo, but is moving into licensing and booking. Flinn joins fellow VT acts Gregory Douglass, Patrick Fitzsimmons and Amber DeLaurentis on the company's roster. Congrats, Aaron.
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Got a funny voice maill from Radio Bean proprietor Lee Anderson last week. I was on vacation, so unfortuately, I couldn't pass this along sooner. But apparently, Mr. Anderson has torn down that wall. I know this because he actually called while the thing was coming down. I could literally hear the sounds of crumbling and men working in the background. This marks a huge step forward in the cozy hipster haunt's long-awaited expansion. I for one, am very excited.

In other news, it seems I'll soon have to stop referring to the Bean as a "cozy hipster haunt."
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Speaking of Radio Bean, longtime friend of the Queen City, Mike Gamble (Bootyjuice, The Inbetweens, Scrambler/Seequill), is back in town for a trio of dates at the Bean this week. And he'll be sharing the stage with a few local luminaries to boot. Thursday, the hot-shot guitarist gets his late-afternoon jazz thing on with Gabe Jarrett and Rob Morse. Saturday, he'll be blowing minds with experimental guru Greg Davis. And Sunday he wraps up the run with some late night shenanigans featuring Ethan Snyder and Ian Kovac.
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And finally, a late breaking bit from our friends at the Parima Acoustic Lounge (aka, Burlington's best listening room), "progressive-folk" trio the Blue Hit swings through town this Thursday. If you like pretty folk vocal melodies backed by swooning cello and nimbly picked guitar — and I know you do — I'd suggest stopping by.

Burlington is apt to drown in good times before its musical bread and butter becomes defined by self-taught experimentalism, or "noise" — a term lazily thrown around far too often. But experimental sounds do exist here, just in lower fidelity and in the scum-dripping shadows of the downtown underground.

For example, bands such as Lawrence Welks & Our Bear to Cross, a black sheep that'd be sooner seen in some clandestine basement than showing up on any Burlington bar main stage — a fact perhaps characteristic of keyboards and vocals choked violently by distortion. One could imagine the puzzled looks on the faces of some good-time-seeking Main Street bar-goers upon discovering this group. And to be clear, I've seen those faces.

My memories of summer always begin with music. There's something about the warm months that creates a distinct and memorable period of time that's unlike any other part of the year. Maybe it's the fact that it's book-ended by long months of academic pressures (I'm only 21). Or maybe it's something to do with the green and the heat. But more distinctly than at any other time of the year, in summer, there's a vivid connection between the sounds I'm listening to and the people and places populating my life. My memories have a soundtrack. And the associations I make between the places where I play my favorite music has a grander effect; they define my entire memory of summer. I'm glad I live a place with such contrasting weather.

It's hard for me to separate the Charlotte Ferry on Lake Champlain where I worked for three months in 2008 from the psychedelic apocalypse of Comets on Fire's Field Recordings from the Sun or the space freak-out of Acid Mothers Temple's IAO Chant from the Cosmic Inferno. It helped that I weathered a couple lighting storms with my iPod plugged into my brain, my socks soaked, guitar feedback blazing in my ears. 

In 2007 I had a long drive from my home in Vergennes to Burlington to visit a lady friend. The ride gave me sufficient time to have Elton John's Madman Across the Water and The Stooges Fun House implanted in my head. Now every time I stop at the main intersection in Shelburne I hear Iggy screaming at me. As I sit and write this I'm listening to David Gilmour's screams on the Live at Pompeii version of 'Saucerful of Secrets.' And my morning drives through downtown Burlington are always filled with the carefree sound of The Pains of Being Pure at Heart's debut or Asobi Seksu's Hush.

Music-induced nostalgia outdoes any other memory association ten-fold. Music is pervasive. I still spin Fun House and Field Records to the point exhaustion, and they'll continue to be a soundtrack. It's possible to have such a personal and profound relationship to music  — it's a constant vehicle for memory.

Solid State, what are some of your favorite or most vivid summer music memories?

Happy Friday, Solid State!

Things may be a little quiet round this little corner of cyberspace for the next week or so as I am embarking on a long overdue vacation. With any luck, a few of our freelance blog contributors will chime in from time to time — 7D intern Will Ryan, looking in your direction … ahem. But I make no guarantees.

Anyway, I just wanted to pass along this little video before I go. Enjoy, and have a wonderful week.

Er, I mean, he's really wealthy. Like, really wealthy.

According to several media outlets, and first reported by the New York Post, Phish front man Trey Anastasio recently purchased Sopranos star Lorraine Bracco's $2 million "cottage" in the Hudson River Valley. Guess ticket sales for the summer tour must be pretty brisk, huh?

Once again, this is my life. From Higher Ground's website, regarding the Metro Station show on August 8:

METRO STATION
http://www.metrostationmusic.com
Metro Station is an American pop band, formed in 2006 in Los Angeles, California. In late 2006, the band signed a recording contract with Columbia/Red Ink. They are best known for their Top 10 Billboard hit single "Shake It" from their self-titled debut album. Popularized mainly by their co-frontman Trace Cyrus, older brother of Hannah Montana star Miley Cyrus, and Mason Musso, older brother of Mitchel Musso from Hannah Montana, the band has experienced a recent boom in their record sales.

Now I ask you, Solid State, what's worse? Using your own sexuality to move records — re: the ongoing Grace Potter thread. Or, using your little sister's? Stay classy, Hollywood!