Dawes make plans for the future

Dawes have emerged recently as one of the strongest roots-inspired rock bands in years, reminiscent of predecessors like My Morning Jacket and the Band. Their new album, Nothing Is Wrong, hits the streets on Tuesday, June 7th. Louisville Metro fans can celebrate with them at Iroquois Amphitheater, where they will perform with Bright Eyes. LEO recently caught up with Taylor Goldsmith:

LEO: I’ve gone to thousands of shows over the past 20 years, but you guys have set a new record for me by opening for not just one, but two, other non-local bands in the same week. Tonight (June 1st) you’re playing with Brett Dennen, and on Tuesday you’re playing with Bright Eyes. How did this happen?
Taylor Goldsmith: We were offered both tours without realizing that both Louisville dates were so close together. The Bright Eyes tour is only going for a week and the Brett Dennen dates bookend that, lasting for about 2 months. It just so happens that their routing ended up taking them both through Louisville within a week. So, it’s mainly just a happy accident.

LEO: Your new album, “Nothing Is Wrong,” sounds, to me, to be more of an early ’70s Laurel Canyon album, where your first, “North Hills,” had more of a ’60s Woodstock vibe. Am I right, or wrong, in your mind?
TG: We have a lot of influences and inspirations and make our records in whatever way seems most natural and fitting for the song. We weren’t particularly going for a 60’s Woodstock sound with our first record or a 70’s Laurel Canyon sound with our second, but we were definitely inspired by both of those genres during the making of both records, so that’s just how each came out, I guess. We’re happy that people draw connections to other music they like or are familiar with, but none of it is ever intentional on our part.

LEO: Is the success you’ve had, so far, been what you were expecting?
TG: We still live very normal lives and, despite whatever success might come our way (which we would be just fine with), we have every intention to continue to. I feel like in this style of music, the concept of celebrity isn’t very relevant. It seems to me like all these independent artists appeal on the basis that they’re regular people, and don’t inspire their fans to treat them as if they were larger than life, necessarily. We’re not a big band, so I’m just assuming right now, but that’s the impression I get.

LEO: You‘ve worked recently backing up Robbie Robertson, formerly of The Band. Do you see yourselves changing through the years as he has, from scruffy rockers to slick hair guys in fancy suits?
TG: Haha. We have no plans on how we’re gonna dress in the future. Whatever it is, I assume it’ll be organic. If our hair turns grey and falls out, or if our faces get all wrinkly, I bet we’ll go with it.

LEO: Do you have any associations with Louisville, or memories, or impressions?
TG: Our ‘Waterfront Wednesday’ show was a great Louisville experience. And each time we’ve visited your radio station there (91.9 FM, WFPK), we’ve been made to feel like Louisville likes us coming through, so I’m sure we’ll be back as often as we can be. Even twice within one week, I guess.

Dawes with Bright Eyes
Tuesday, June 7
Iroquois Amphitheater
1080 Amphitheater Road
8 p.m.
$28-$33

The Low Anthem aim for the fences

“Have you ever interviewed Jim James? I’m a fan.”

Questions like “Have you ever gone to the Kentucky Derby with Colonel Sanders and My Morning Jacket?” are expected from non-locals, but this time I’m being asked by Jeff Prystowsky, leader of a highly acclaimed, increasingly popular band, The Low Anthem.

Prystowsky spoke with LEO from the band’s van, in “Nowheresville,” near the border of New Mexico and Arizona. The up-and-coming folk-rock band has spent most of this year on the road, promoting their richly textured third album, Smart Flesh. The Providence, R.I., natives went from self-releasing their early albums to signing with Nonesuch Records, the NPR-favorite label of Jessica Lea Mayfield, The Magnetic Fields and the Carolina Chocolate Drops, among others. Their headlining tour brings them to Louisville Saturday, if for no other reason, says Prystowsky, than because “we’re bourbon drinkers, and that’s the mecca.”

“We’ve been out constantly since February. We did a month in Europe, then the East Coast as a headliner, we opened for Iron & Wine for 12 shows, then Jazz Fest, then back to the Northwest,” he says.

Do they enjoy their journeys? “Yeah, very much so. Like right now, I just love the empty landscape with the giant mountains looming in the distance. I find that very beautiful and peaceful and calming.”

Prystowsky doesn’t seem like the cliché of the road-warrior rocker. His interests also include history and baseball. The Orioles fan compares their shows to his favorite sport, almost effortlessly. “It’s kind of holy practice for me. Those are my favorite concerts, when the artist reaches the level a preacher achieves — that intensity. We can feel it on stage when it happens, and it doesn’t happen often. It’s like a batting average — if you can get probably one out of 10, it’s pretty good. (Bandmate) Ben just commented, six out of 10 is his goal.”

The inquisitive bandleader asks my thoughts on their Louisville venue. It’s their last headlining show before they go back out with Mumford & Sons. Many of their spring shows sold out, so I ask if people back home recognize them now on the street. He says sometimes, but “it’s kind of in a friendly way, not in a paparazzi way. It’s also good for discounts.”

The Low Anthem with Daniel Lefkowitz and the County Line
Saturday, June 4
Headliners Music Hall
1386 Lexington Road • 584-8088
$10; 9 p.m.

c. 2011 LEO Weekly

Kentucky super magnet Dawn Landes brings another one home

Dawn Landes is a smart, playful singer-songwriter who has earned critical praise and the modern version of hit singles — her songs have popped up often on TV. She performed with the band Hem before her solo work resulted in a following of her own. Her folky, accessible songs might be the easiest clue that this Brooklyn resident actually hails from a city more relaxed and Southern.

LEO: You’re from Louisville. So, where did you go to high school?
Dawn Landes: I went to Ballard. Go Bruins!

Landes, 30, once worked as an audio engineer in New York recording studios and has high standards for live sound quality. “It’s always a little unnerving to put your music into the hands of a total stranger each night, so that took some getting used to, but we’ve started to control more of our sound from the stage,” she says. “Sometimes I miss the smaller rooms with the Mackie mixer right there onstage.”
Her band has included other Louisvillians. When asked about her drummer, a veteran of the Java Men and King Kong, Landes says, “Ray Rizzo is the maaann! Hands down, a true magic man. Ray and I have been playing music together for over 10 years now; we met when I was still in high school and couldn’t even sneak myself in to a Java Men show. I love the fact that we both have roots in Louisville. For a while there, I was touring as a trio with an all-Louisville band — me, Ray and Eric Stephenson on cello. There’s some kind of Kentucky super magnet that pulls people together — just ask any NYC transplant.”

Are there other locals who intrigue her? “I’d love to work with Jim James someday. I’m always excited to hear what he’s working on. And Will Oldham scares me, in a good way.”

The band has been working recently in upstate New York on a new album, “at a big old haunted house, recording ideas and trying to spook each other. I took a few songs down to Mississippi last week and had some high school marching band kids play on a few tracks — that was fun. I’m hoping to finish up the songs in the next few months.”

LEO: Tell us about the Bandana Splits.
DL: Of course! The Bandana Splits is a girl group I formed with two friends last year. We all play in other bands but just kept getting together to hang out and couldn’t help but write a bunch of songs together. I love singing with those ladies. We’re all pretty inspired by the Andrews Sisters’ kooky harmonies and the Phil Spector wall-of-sound. Check it out! Our record is coming out this summer, late July.

Landes is happy to have gained an audience, though she says, “I do notice that people tend to sing along to my songs that have been in TV shows and commercials. Other than that, the music industry is a complete mystery to me.”

LEO: You’re playing at Churchill Downs. What do you think about Derby and that aspect of our local culture?
DL: I’m really excited to play at the Downs. That’s where I went to prom for the first time, and I love the Derby. I was just at Jazz Fest in New Orleans for the past Derby and found myself crowded around a tiny TV with a handful of Kentuckians, shouting “Go Pants on Fire!” As for that aspect of the culture, I love the pageantry and tradition as much as the Chow Wagon.

Dawn Landes & the Hounds
Friday, May 27
Churchill Downs
www.churchilldowns.com
$10; 8:15 p.m.

c. 2011 LEO Weekly

Another funky night, another jazzy city

The New Mastersounds emerged from Leeds, England, in the late ’90s as a group completely uninterested in the then-popular Britpop sounds of Oasis and Blur. Their update of swingin’ ’60s jazz-funk quickly endeared them to music aficionados who yearned for both old sounds and young energy. Their collaborators have ranged from members of the Meters and the Headhunters to younger talents such as Grace Potter, Karl Denson and Mr. Scruff. LEO caught up recently with guitarist Eddie Roberts.



LEO: How do you describe your music to someone who’s never heard you before? Do you describe it differently to older and younger people?
Eddie Roberts: I find that describing our music does depend on the person you are describing it to, as the term “funk” can mean so many different things to different people — from James Brown to George Clinton to Funky House. You have to do a little digging to find out how much music history the person has — “Have you heard of the Meters? James Brown?” If the answer is no, then I would tell them that we play funky music to make people dance. If the answer is yes, then I would say that we came from a scene in the UK of DJs playing old funk and soul, and we learned by imitating those old records, and that we treat our show like a DJ would by keeping the dance floor going and taking the audience on a journey.

LEO: What is your process like for creating new music?
ER: We pretty much work the same way on every album. We like to work quickly, five days at the most. We leave a lot of the creative process for the studio, but enter into it with a lot of sketched ideas. I feel that, this way, you capture a spontaneity and energy in the music.

LEO: How do you get introduced to collaborators?
ER: Generally, we either knew them before or we’ve met each other at festivals or just on the road. The collaboration starts with us all feeling that we would simply love to make some music together.

LEO: Do you think you would be happier living in an earlier time?
ER: Not really. I think it’s a very romantic idea, but the reality is, life has so many more opportunities for more people these days — and who knows, I might not have been in the right place at the right time in 1967!

LEO: Your website notes that My Morning Jacket is playing (a sold-out show) on the same night as you. How do you feel about situations like this?
ER: Every night in every city, there is always “another” show going on, and more often than that, by a more popular band. People simply make their choice on any given night with what they feel like, and a number of other factors.

The New Mastersounds with Deep Fried 5
Tuesday, May 31
Headliners Music Hall
1386 Lexington Road • 584-8088
www.newmastersounds.com
$15; 9 p.m.

c. 2011 LEO Weekly

Still Krazy after all these years

Louisville's loudest music fest returns

Andy Rich was a busy man in Louisville a decade ago, running the influential Initial Records label and Krazy Fest, a weekend of up-and-coming, loud and proud bands on the label or otherwise part of the scene. Rich led the festival annually from 1998 through 2003, and soon after left the Louisville music scene for a much different life.

Though his involvement with this year’s revived fest at Expo Five is more as a figurehead, LEO wanted to catch up with Rich, look back, and see how much has changed — and how little has changed — since.



LEO: This is the rebirth of Krazy Fest, after a successful run between 1998 and 2003. Why now?
Andy Rich: I believe everybody was feeling a bit nostalgic after the Endpoint reunion show back in April of 2010. Soon thereafter, Andy Tinsley called me and asked about bringing Krazy Fest back. The idea had been bandied about in the past, but I thought Andy was a good person to take up the gauntlet, as he has many great connections and a history of success when it comes to producing concerts.

LEO: What have you been doing since ’03? Do you miss running Initial Records?
AR: Initial wound down around the end of 2004, and I moved to Las Vegas. I was really into poker, and poker was starting to really take off after ESPN began airing it more frequently. I ended up getting a job with Caesars Entertainment working in the Harrah’s Las Vegas poker room. I gradually moved into management over the next few years and started running a few of the Caesars Entertainment poker rooms in Las Vegas. I eventually became operations director for the World Series of Poker. I currently run the Caesars Palace poker room, the Rio poker room and the World Series of Poker.

Running the WSOP has some parallels to what it took to pull off Krazy Fest. WSOP is all about people who love playing poker, just as Krazy Fest is all about people who love music. Both groups are quite passionate. I consider myself lucky that I’ve never had to endure a job I didn’t love. I love what I do now, just as I loved my time running Initial.

I certainly miss some aspects of running Initial. I don’t think I realized at the time how creative and brilliant some of the people I was fortunate enough to work with truly were. I miss that every day was an absolute adventure, and our potential was only limited by our imagination. On any given day, we could get our records into a new store, get an elusive chain store account, find out about one of our bands landing a great tour or getting great press — or even uncover the next great band listening to an unsolicited demo. Running Initial was certainly a fun time in my life.

LEO: Much has changed in the music business, in Louisville and in general since 1998, or even since 2003. Does Krazy Fest still mean the same thing today — to you and to attendees?
AR: I don’t think Krazy Fest means the same thing to two people. For me, it was a great personal accomplishment just to put the event together and watch it unfold. I went to my first music festival in Dayton, Ohio, and thought, “This is amazing. I can do this in Louisville.” I loved that I could help introduce thousands of people to some of the great bands I enjoyed so much. Music can play such a huge and influential role in a young person’s life.

Things were so different 15 years ago, so it was incredible to be able to see so much of what you love all at once during Krazy Fest weekend. I think it’s very different now. If you love Mastodon in 2011, you can watch 100 different videos on YouTube and buy every piece of Mastodon memorabilia in existence on the Internet. If you loved Mastodon in 2001, you had to hope they came and played in your town to see them live, or buy a T-shirt. Or you had to hope somebody had a decent VCR tape! It’s amazing how quickly things can change in 10 years.

LEO: Are events like this more important to you because of the musical acts performing, or the community aspect?
AR: It was a big deal for the community; however, without the bands, it wouldn’t have been anything, so it really was a convergence of both. We never once booked a band unless we cared about them in one capacity or another. We even turned down major label sponsorship deals, because Krazy Fest was a labor of love, and watching shitty major label bands was exactly what Krazy Fest was not about. Initial was ingrained in the Louisville scene, and we did everything we could to help promote the bands from Louisville and the city of Louisville itself. We bought ads in the local fanzines, gave booth space to local businesses and even distributed a free map of the city with all of our favorite restaurants, record stores, tattoo shops, etc., highlighted in the hopes that the out-of-town visitors would take the opportunity to see the awesomeness of ear X-tacy or the Louisville Slugger Museum. Krazy Fest was its own little economy of scale, filling up local hotel rooms and restaurants. I even heard one year that ear X-tacy had their highest sales volume of the year during Krazy Fest weekend.

LEO: How do you get the mix of emo, metal, punk, etc. to flow smoothly? How much crossover do you think there is between fans of each band or genre?
AR: Our formula for picking the bands was a combination of many factors. First, it started with the bands on the label. Next, it was bands we loved, regardless of their popularity — bands myself and the other people involved with Initial and the fest wanted to see. After that, we made sure the local bands were represented as well. It was a given that the nationally known Louisville bands would be playing, but we also made it a point to include a couple of up-and-coming bands. And finally, we had to answer the question: Who do we love that could be the headliners, our anchors? That is where you get great bands like AFI, Jimmy Eat World, Avail, Thursday, Dillinger Escape Plan and the likes. Those bands are beloved for a reason.

After that, it was filling in a few blanks. We were fortunate that, however eclectic the line-up turned out, the festival always coalesced in the end. It’s pretty incredible to look back at older flyers and see Jimmy Eat World didn’t even headline, or that Dashboard Confessional was in the middle of the day. I guess you could say that, in the end, the whole was greater than the sum of its parts.

LEO: How important was including local bands, bands that don’t have records out nationwide yet?
AR: We made it a point to include at least one band every year that was from Louisville that was not yet nationally known. I remember sets from Red Sun, Out, Skam Impaired, Pflanz and the Glasspack. It was also the coming-out party for local bands that would go on to prominence, such as National Acrobat and Christiansen. I know there were a lot more local bands that would have liked the opportunity to play, but we had limited resources to work with. The last few years, there were always pre-Krazy Fest shows and parties featuring a lot of great local bands, and we did everything we could to support their efforts. Someday, one of those bands will emerge to be the next Endpoint, Elliott or Enkindels. As long as their name started with an “E.”

c. 2011 LEO Weekly
illustration by Ron Jasin

Running out of luck

Lucky Pineapple plays its final show on Friday after a seven-year run making an unexpected mix of punk, lounge, jazz, gypsy and many other conflicting sounds for delighted locals — and a confused MTV audience. The driving forces look back:



MATT DODDS
— guitars, vocals, percussion:
It began with me and Joey Kelly, who I had been in bands with on and off for several years. Early on, we talked about writing “tropical” songs. We also wanted to make an effort to find people to play with that would bring a little more than the usual guitar/bass/drums instrumentation we’d used in earlier bands.

WILLIAM BENTON
— guitars, vocals, percussion:
I certainly didn’t expect the band to get very far or last long. It wasn’t until (trumpeter) Su (Crocker) came in and we wrote “High Heels in the Sand” that I knew that was exactly what I wanted to do at the time. I recall thinking about weirder Mystic Knights of the Oingo Boingo arrangements as well as various types of folk music from around the world, and how we could fuse that with the more rockin’ bands that a few of us had come from.

DODDS
We sought out people who played instruments we’d never worked with, or people who played in a different style than we were used to, or in general tried to do things we only halfway understood. I really do think the process of people who kind of know what they’re doing introducing something and then having people who don’t really know what they’re doing adapt to it — and the other way around, more often than not — has been a big part of how we sound.

BENTON
As soon as I met Matt, I wanted to play music with him. He was the right kind of weird, and I was a big fan of a band he was in called Kelly, Darling and Dodds. So it was an honor to play with him in a band for so long. Of course, nobody needs to comment any further on how great of a drummer J.C. (Denison) is, or the really interesting and original “scenery” that (keyboardist) Brian (Sweeney) brought to so many of the songs. If I was to think about the one thing I miss the most about playing in Lucky Pineapple, I think it is probably just looking over and seeing Brian so into it.

DODDS
We just wanted to write songs that we all liked and then play those songs in front of people, hopefully making enough money to be able to afford to record and then press those recordings on CDs or records or whatever. We started doing those things, and more opportunities started to present themselves, so we took the ones that seemed like a good idea, sometimes with ruinous results, sometimes with completely cool results, usually with somewhat confusing results.

Scheduling anything became an absolute train wreck, but we hung in there for a while. I’ve never been real into being in bands where one person writes the songs and then tells everyone else what to play ... but trying to write with eight to nine people with that many different personalities and tastes also became a bit more than I think we could deal with. I think the last song we finished took close to a year on and off to write ... hopefully we can play it for the first time at our last show.

BENTON
Sometimes I think back on how a particular Lucky Pineapple song would come together, and it still fascinates me. I could never forecast how a song would end up. Most of the time that was a great thing. It’s a much easier thing to find some other “rock ’n’ roll dudes” that all want to do the same thing and make it work. It’s a bit more of a challenge to get a gang of weirdos like Lucky Pineapple together and make some music, especially for that long.

DODDS
Having “Moment in an Empty Street” used repeatedly on “Jersey Shore” is both a highlight and a lowlight for me. It’s really the first time I’ve ever made any amount of money I’ve kept from making music, and I definitely needed it, but also, you know, it’s “Jersey Shore.” The song is actually a very personal one about my eventual death and leaving my wife alone and my lack of belief in any afterlife, so it kind of bummed me out to see it used as background music for monster-people fornicating in a hot tub. But whatever. To quote the scholars: You’ll have that.

BENTON
It’s a band that will never easily be classified or described, and there should be more music like that.

DODDS
I’ve loved being in this band. I love almost all the songs we wrote together and like the ones I don’t love.

Lucky Pineapple with Ultra Pulverize
Friday, May 20
Headliners Music Hall
1386 Lexington Road • 584-8088
www.luckypineapple.com
$8 adv., $10 door; 9 p.m.

c. 2011 LEO Weekly

Neko Case shares her skill

Neko Case has emerged as one of the most compelling, individualistic voices in music today, earning praise for her noir-soaked solo albums and for her work with power-pop collective The New Pornographers. The Washington state native returns to Louisville on Monday.



LEO: Your most recent release came out two years ago. What brings you out on the road again?
Neko Case: Working on new songs and making up some dates that were cancelled earlier last year.

LEO: Where are you happiest — on the road or at home?
NC: Both, as long as I’m feeling productive.

LEO: You’re a big animal advocate. What are some of your favorite animals, or favorite animal/music crossovers?
NC: There aren’t any animals I don’t feel something for. They all have something unique. I don’t think it’s animal music per se, but the Talking Heads always make me feel part of the Animal Kingdom rather than separate.

LEO: You’re a popular Twitterer, or whatever that word is. What do you enjoy about that site that you can’t get from songwriting?
NC: I just like to be myself, which doesn’t come through often when you don’t communicate with your fans directly much. This is a great way to meet like-minded folks who can talk about anything, and also to be a fan. Everyone is on equal footing.

LEO: Your label, Anti, has worked with some great older talents, mostly men. Do you see yourself still going strong in your golden years, like them or Wanda Jackson?
NC: Yes, I have no other marketable skills.

LEO: Can you turn me on to some new music that I might not know about?
NC: Well, we are bringing a band from Portland, Ore., called Y La Bamba with us on the road. I became a fan by hearing the record by accident in a store in Portland. I love them!

LEO: You’ve been through Louisville several times. Have you had any chances to see the city?
NC: I have never gotten to tour around Louisville, but I have had some great food. I hope I get to see a bit more, but it’s hard when you leave at 3 a.m. for another town. Wah!

Neko Case with Y La Bamba
Monday, May 16
Headliners Music Hall
1386 Lexington Road • 584-8088
www.nekocase.com
$25; 8 p.m.

c. 2011 LEO Weekly

Junip turns it down

The Swedish indie rock band Junip is relatively new to American audiences, but the voice of their lead singer and guitarist, José González, is familiar to many. His solo music, a minimalist, modern take on Cat Stevens’ brand of personal folk music, has been popular with discriminating listeners for several years, especially after his recording of the Knife’s “Heartbeat” became known from its use in a TV commercial.



LEO: Junip’s album, Fields, came out almost a year ago. How have your touring experiences been?
José González: This is the third tour we will do on this album. We’re doing a lot of smaller cities that we normally don’t get to now. People in smaller cities tend to be more excited, which is nice. In bigger cities, people see bigger shows every day; they’re more jaded.

LEO: Are you finding that fans of your solo work are coming to see Junip expecting to hear your songs, or some of both?
JG: It’s been half and half. A lot of people who come to the show, many by now have listened to our album. There’s a little bit of yelling sometimes — “Play ‘Heartbeat’!” — I was sort of expecting that. Hopefully as time goes on, that will fade away.

LEO: Do you feel a kinship with someone like Neil Young, alternating between quieter solo work and bigger band music?
JG: Yeah! I don’t know how he does it, but I’m trying to make it work. I tour a lot solo, so it’s a lot of fun to be able to switch it up. It makes solo shows more fun, too.

LEO: Your early musical background was in hardcore punk. Did the other guys come up with the same influences?
JG: Yeah, me and the drummer played in a band in the ’90s. Our keyboard player played in another hardcore band.

LEO: Do you still listen to that style much today?
JG: I don’t listen much anymore, no. Sometimes — I think it depends on what kind of mood you’re in. I don’t really need that high energy anymore. Now that I think about it, I toured with Elliott, from Louisville, for a few weeks, in the late ’90s. I was playing guitar with an indie rock band called Only If You Call Me Jonathan. They were nice guys.

Junip with Acrylics
Saturday, May 14
Headliners Music Hall
1386 Lexington Road • 584-8088
www.junip.net
$12 adv., $15 door; 9 p.m.

c. 2011 LEO Weekly

album review: Hal Dolls

Being easily confused by science, I’ve always been fascinated by special effects. How do they do it? As an obsessive music nerd, I hear a lot of new releases, and I’m always impressed when I hear someone today making a record that sounds like it was recorded a long time ago. I know it has something to do with science stuff like amplifiers and tubes and getting “warm” sounds.



Point being: Hal Dolls is a band of veteran Louisville punks, and their new release sounds like the best record to skate to in 1982. Fans of early-’80s melodic and snotty punks like the Circle Jerks will thrill to the throwback sounds of Bipolaroid. Song titles like “Drunk Phone Blues,” “Asshole” and “What If Barbie Got Fat” should give you an idea of the biting social satire employed here; it’s an entertaining form of expression that never should have faded away. Welcome back to the future, Dolls.

c. 2011 LEO Weekly

album review: Fleet Foxes

Ah, the dreaded curse of the sophomore album. When Fleet Foxes emerged, seemingly out of nowhere, in 2008 with a stunning EP and an instant-classic full-length album, they set a high bar for themselves and for their fans’ expectations. After a wait, they have returned with a follow-up that’s basically more of the same, which is both reassuring and disappointing. Part of what made their first, self-titled album so beloved was the element of surprise they were able to enjoy with their gorgeous, multi-tiered vocal harmonies and inventive song structures.



Helplessness Blues suffers from a lack of inventiveness, a complacent reliance on the basics of their formula. There are few surprises. The only notable experimentation comes in “The Shrine/An Argument,” an eight-minute song whose last two minutes are tarnished by a free-jazz burst that sounds like a duck-bludgeoning. This is a perfect example of a band that might paint their masterpiece on their third album, having learned what works and what fails.

c. 2011 LEO Weekly

Vandervelde and friends’ raw vibe

David Vandervelde has been playing music since he was 14 and gained notice for collaborations with the late Jay Bennett of Wilco. Today, the Michigan native is winning over listeners with his classic-rock attitude, delivered on an indie budget. LEO caught up with him as he neared town for a not-so-traditional Derby weekend bill with fellow rock traditionalists Buffalo Killers.



LEO: You can be a hard act to pin down. You’re on an artsy indie label, collaborate with Nashville’s Bobby Bare Jr., get compared to T. Rex and arena rock... what’s it sound like to you?
Vandervelde: I guess I do get compared to a lot of classic rock bands — Big Star, Tom Petty, Neil Young, even ELO and Fleetwood Mac on occasion. I think these are all good comparisons. I like good songs. I’m influenced mainly by ’70s rock ’n’ roll and pop music, but don’t really sound like just one specific thing. I always feel honored, in a way, to be compared to good music I’m into.

LEO: You’re a one-man band when it comes to instruments you can play. Do you find it hard to employ others to recreate your sounds for you?
V: My last full-length, Waiting for the Sunrise, was largely recorded as a band, either completely or mostly live in the studio playing in the same room. I wanted to capture more of a live kinda vibe on that record, to do something new for me. My first record, The Moonstation House Band, was recorded almost completely alone.
On my full-length work in progress, to be called Vandervelde, it’s mostly live, with the band in my basement, recorded in the analog world — no computers. I find it most enjoyable, right now, to be recording with my best friends (my band) rather than alone. Their involvement in the recording process makes everything feel more raw and real, and of course, easier to make work well live.

LEO: Downloading — good or evil?
V: No way around it, so it doesn’t really matter to me. I like buying records and tapes personally, they sound cooler and are better to look at. I have a single called “More Than You Can Feel” available for free download at www.rcrdlbl.com. It’s actually a rough mix of a song that will end up on the record this fall. I guess downloading is not evil? ... But maybe I’m an evil kinda dude sometimes.

LEO: You moved to Nashville a few years ago after living in Brooklyn. How do the music scenes there compare, for you?
V: I love Nashville. More my style, I suppose. I was only in Brooklyn nine months to live with my lady friend (now my wife). It kinda bugs me when magazines like Rolling Stone and particular music blog sites refer to Nashville as having this new hip local music scene — “best in the country ’cuz we got the Black Keys and Jack White.” Truth is, they never play here. If they do, it’s maybe one or two times a year, so they’re not a part of any real local music scene at all in my mind. I like their music, but not how people make it seem like Nashville is this cool music town now that they live here. I moved here first, damn it! (laughs) I like how Nashville can seem nice and small if I want it to be.

LEO: Have you spent any quality time in Louisville? Do you have any observations about our city?
V: I’ve had really great times in Louisville — got a couple close friends there. Last time I was in town, we went to a giant thrift store that was mind-blowing! Also, your bars are open late. I would like to stay there longer than a day sometime to get more of a true feel for it. Much love for your city!

Vandervelde
with Buffalo Killers
and The Bad Reeds
Thursday, May 5
Zazoo’s Bar & Grill
102 Bauer Ave. • 894-8030
www.myspace.com/davidvandervelde
$12; 9 p.m.

c. 2011 LEO Weekly

Songs and opinions are aplenty at T. Eddie’s

“Your parking sucks, dude,” drawls the 50-something smoking outside T. Eddie’s Bar & Grill.

It’s late, but I have not yet begun to drink; my critic, however, appears to be midway through yet another Friday night at the tavern.

Germantown can be a great place if you’re looking for an unvarnished opinion from a local. The home of approximately one bar for every three households, the area is full of stiff drinks and impolite evenings out with interesting characters; one tends to lose excessive sensitivity pretty soon.

As we enter T. Eddie’s, we’re greeted by the owner, Tom Combs (the name being derived from his full name, Thomas Edward). I soon learn Combs has owned the bar for four years after working 30 years with the U.S. Postal Service. I learn this because, unlike most bars I’ve ever been to, the owner is actually standing there, drink in hand, greeting people. This is a guy who looks like he’s discovered the secret to a happy life.

He introduces me to his daughter, Angie, an equally happy woman who apparently acts as queen and CEO of the bar every Friday and Saturday night, after a week of working as a manager at UPS.

“Our drinks are the cheapest in the whole neighborhood,” brags Tom. “And the coldest, too!” blurts out Angie. She shares that she goes to a rival bar once a week for their “Thursgays” night, “With my gay boyfriend, Ray, and they always put it on ice for me. They know I’m coming!”

I recognize Ray from the local Kroger, where he works, making me feel even more at home.

Tom excuses himself to sing karaoke. His song, “Play That Funky Music, White Boy,” kicks in and Angie explains, “He sings that song all the time. He sang it at my fucking brother’s wedding with V-Groove!”

“We also have the best karaoke in town,” Angie says. “Mike has over 250,000 songs on there. He’s even got the Dead Kennedys, you name it.”

“‘Too Drunk to Fuck’?”

“Huh?” Angie replies.

“The Dead Kennedys song, ‘Too Drunk to Fuck’ — does he have that?” I can’t think of a better song to karaoke at this time.

“I don’t know, maybe,” she says as Ray grabs her. “C’mon, girl, we gotta go sing.” Her karaoke song, perhaps unsurprisingly, is the Rolling Stones’ “Angie.”

Later, as I stumble through my song, Ray is overheard saying, “I’ve been there, man!”

As Ray runs around behind the bar, lifting patient bartender Deena up by her buttocks for MySpace-style photos, I notice there are dozens of $1 bills hanging from the ceiling. The place is mostly decorated in classic dive-bar style — giant Corona parrot, inflatable NASCAR sign — but Tom points with pride to tiles in the floor spelling out the name of the bar. “I got a buddy who works at Louisville Stoneware, did that for me.”

“We’re the best-kept secret in town,” he says, a bit wistfully. Around 1 a.m., he tells me he’s going home for the night. As if on cue, a young woman filling out a white dress in all the right places walks past. He looks at me, winks and says, “I might stay for a minute.”

c. 2011 LEO Weekly

album review: Another 7 Astronauts

Technology has made it much simpler lately to create a brave new world in one’s cramped, debris-strewn studio apartment. Another 7 Astronauts, the vision of world-class drummer J.C. Denison (Lucky Pineapple, Invaders, Cheyenne Marie Mize), is such a world. Granted, it’s not an entirely new world. If you are familiar with modern composers like Brian Eno or Philip Glass, Vangelis’ “Blade Runner” soundtrack or nature films narrated by Morgan Freeman, you already have an idea of what this world sounds like. That doesn’t take anything away from the overall experience of being swept away by Move, however. If anything, it helps prepare listeners for the driving, purposeful sounds of a composer sure of his vision. From urban jungle textures to minimalized hip-hop beats to blissed-out spa treatments, this 20-song collection has plenty of choices for fueling your sonic adventures.

c. 2011 LEO Weekly

album review: Vibrolas

Hard rock and heavy metal fans can be well-informed and quick to champion new favorites. Just as often, however, they can tend to want the same thing over and over — Sabbath riffs and lyrics about hot rods being tireless favorites — with no sudden upgrades to a format that has held up remarkably well for most of the past 40 years. (We’ll pretend like the ’90s weren’t rough.) It can also be a very Louisville tendency, which helps explain the continued popularity of the scene here.



The Vibrolas aren’t breaking any new ground, but their contribution to the form is muscular, nicely groove-based and tuneful. Backing vocals from bassist Leila A. Coppala help distinguish the band from many others in what is often a “boys only” club. In fact, the lone instrumental, “Ass Ventriloquist,” suffers from the absence of Coppala and lead singer Chris Hosner’s vocals. But it’s called “Ass Ventriloquist,” so you get that.

c. 2011 LEO Weekly

Column #30: Elton doesn't excite me much anymore

Elton John is coming to the Kentucky Fried Center. Well, that’s nice, I suppose. Better than the Eagles, at least.

That’s my reaction today, but if this was still 1973, I’d be all, “OMG, you guys! Elton John is coming!!!”

I’m passionate about music, clearly, and I’m the opposite of the person who says, “My favorite type of music? I don’t know, I like all types.” While I do, too, that’s because I spend a lot of time listening to music, thinking about it, researching it.

My favorite periods have included the doo wop of the late ‘50’s urban streets, the free jazz movement in the ‘60s, the outlaw country of the mid-70’s, the punk scene of the late ‘70’s and the indie rock of the recent era.

Pop and hip hop have made great sonic strides in the past decade, thanks to producers like Timbaland and Danger Mouse, but I’m still grateful that the pop of my childhood included Prince, Michael Jackson, Madonna and Cyndi Lauper. Sorry, Katy Perry and the Black Eyed Peas, I just don’t feel you.

If I had to pick one period in music that is my favorite, today, I would say the singer-songwriters of the early ‘70s. A recent edition of PBS’ “American Masters” series focused on L.A.’s Troubadour Club in that era. Some of my favorites – Joni Mitchell, Neil Young, Randy Newman, Jackson Browne, Van Morrison – dominated the club in that era.

While I love that era, the thought of having to endure some of those people in concert today – Elton, Crosby Stills & Nash, James Taylor, Bonnie Raitt, et al. – gives me the shivers.

My parents recently saw folk singers Peter & Paul (Mary died in 2009) and reported back that no one in the audience was younger than 55. How does a room full of affluent AARP members singing “We Shall Overcome” together, during Obama’s presidency, still make sense?

The best art is inspired by the times in which the artist lives. Picasso’s “Guernica” could only have happened at that time, though surely someone is developing an iPhone app that will truly capture the rebel spirit of today’s Jasmine Revolution.

This month, I cut short a trip to Florida so that I could witness the thrill of Lady Gaga’s debut performance at the Bucket. She did not disappoint; it was one of the greatest spectacles I’ve ever experienced.

Her show is a combination of the best elements of tent revival, circus, Broadway and drag show all in one. Seeing her today, at the probable peak of her powers and freshness, is made even more exciting by feeling swept up in her mission of acceptance. It’s a message thankfully becoming increasingly mainstream with forward momentum being seen in marriage equality, military service equality and the popularity of those “Glee” twinks.

The best artists don’t have to be 24 to make an impact. The best have a hunger that is palpable, a need to express themselves that can overcome most obstacles. There’s a guy called Seasick Steve who is putting out a record on Jack White’s Third Man Records soon. He was discovered in 2006 by the British music press – at the age of 65.

His style of drunken uncle blues music made a splash at the South by Southwest festival in Austin last week, like when his fellow bluesmen R.L. Burnside and Junior Kimbrough were discovered in the 1990s, by folks half their age.

There’s no age that’s right or wrong for creativity. Stevie Wonder was known as “Little Stevie” when he emerged at 12 years old. The only problem is, that creativity left him somewhere in the early 1980’s. He was my first concert, but you couldn’t pay me to see him today.

As for ol’ Elton, I still listen to his best music. I appreciate that he, too, helped pave the way for greater tolerance in our society. But he can no longer change my life, or even my plans.

c. 2011 Velocity Weekly

music issue 2011 - Bunny Day and the Mercy Buckets

Bunny Day and the Mercy Buckets, as a name, tells potential listeners a couple of things. First, that they’re not your average rock band – indeed, there’s little that is rockist about them.

You might guess that they’re goofy, quirky, weird. They are, if you think that “normal” music means Jamie Foxx or Nickelback.

Also, if your skills include knowing some freshman-level French and/or enjoying puns, you might assume that this group is not only whimsical but also French-inspired. Their influences include diverse sources like polka, indie rock and, yes, French cabaret and chanson music.

“We've been really good friends for a long time, but we’d never lived in the same city before,” begins Lacey Guthrie, who plays accordion. “We had been courting each other musically. I would go to Lexington and do cover songs with her. Amy moved here, and we decided that it was just gonna happen.”

Now they write their own songs. Banjoist Amy Lee said, “We're good at writing when we're hungover. Sometimes it's together, sometimes it's not. It's hard to write without each other.”

Lee was inspired to begin playing her banjo after an Avett Brothers concert. Scott Avett let her play his instrument briefly, and “I decided that, ‘This is awesome, I want this for Christmas.’”

Guthrie began playing her instrument on “kind of a whim. I already played piano, and I thought they sound really sweet, so I went accordion hunting.” Recently, she bought a saw at Home Depot after hearing one played in an Ugly Casanova song. “I went online and found clips of old men playing them. They were really adorable, so I just learned from that.”

They recorded material for an EP last fall at the now-closed club Skull Alley. Guthrie said, “It was surprisingly difficult. We had some Bulleit bourbon, which we used for percussion.”

Now that the duo are neighbors, it will prove hard to keep them apart.

Lee said, ”If we had a falling out, I would never do music again. I would kill my banjo. I would light her accordion on fire. That's how I feel.”

music issue 2011 - Barefoot Best Friends

From the Chieftains to the Pogues, Celtic folk music has often been seen as a rugged, manly musical genre. Songs about the potato famine and The Troubles depict a rough life in a beautiful land.

Though La Grange is a lovely town in Oldham County, there’s little that is rough, rugged or manly about the Barefoot Best Friends. Louisville’s youngest group plays a lively, mostly instrumental strain of the music which reveals its role as a progenitor of Bluegrass music. The all-female members – Christina, Isabelle, Emmaly, Ellie, Lily and Jessie - range in age from 10 to 17.

The BBF girls, hailing from four families, have been BFFs for several years. They began playing together while working on a project for disability awareness in school, said Patti Beth Miller, mother of Ellie and Jessie.

“Three summers ago,” Miller said, “I was selling flowers at the La Grange Farmers Market. I suggested that if they played there next to me, they might get tips. So they started looking for music that they would all enjoy playing together.”

The girls share an appreciation for Celtic and mountain music, and are generally uninterested in pop music. “Barefoot Best Friends is fiddle music, more like dance music,” relates 13-year-old Emmaly, a violinist. During the nice months, they continue to perform at the Farmers Market, in addition to other performances around the region.

Several of the parents are musicians, and often played public radio while driving the girls around. “I heard banjo on the radio, and I asked my dad what it was,” said her 10-year-old sister Christina. What she heard was “Snowden’s Jig,” a old-timey string song by the Carolina Chocolate Drops.

“I decided I was going to learn, so I got lessons. “ Initially trained on piano, she also plays accordion, washboard and now, “banjo is pretty easy,” she said. “I have the hang of it. I try to practice every day, but it doesn't always work out that way.”

As to what the future might bring, the younger girls have voted to bring in a new member. The 16-year-old family friend, who also plays violin, is a boy.

Ten-year-old Christina mused, “I don't know if I'll make a career out of it, but I'll keep on playing as long as I can.”

c. 2011 Velocity Weekly

music issue 2011 - Sandpaper Dolls

When "Don't Worry, Be Happy" hit the pop charts in 1988, many Americans were introduced to A cappella singing – and quickly dismissed it as a goofy trick. Bobby McFerrin's overly optimistic song nonetheless exposed an approach to pop music that continues today in unexpected places - like Louisville.

In an era when even the most obviously sexy pop group has little chance of succeeding in the music business, three women have joined to sing together, unencumbered by instruments that need to be played outside of one's own body, and unconcerned about the business of the music business.

The Sandpaper Dolls were all veterans of the local music scene when they met each other at downtown's late Jazz Factory. Suki Anderson worked there and had sung with the soul group a.m. Sunday. Amber Estes sang with the jazz groups Liberation Prophecy and the Todd Hildreth Trio. Rebecca Dennison sang with folk singer Jamie Barnes.

Anderson approached Estes about working together. Estes said, “We slowly peeled members and instruments away until we were left with just the voice. We decided on an A cappella trio and had a couple of people in mind, but then realized, who has a better voice than Rebecca? So we got together and sang in Suki's dining room and made animal noises until we had a band.”

In addition to more obvious vocal inspirations - The Staple Singers, The Pointer Singers, The Bulgarian Woman's Choir - the women have also been encouraged by composer Philip Glass, deep soul from Donny Hathaway to the Budos Band, and the experimentation of off-center pop artists like Bjork and Tom Waits.

They self-released a full-length live album, “Live at 21C,” recorded in the downtown hotel’s atrium, in 2009. Future goals include not only a studio album and touring, but also, according to Estes, “creating a silent movie soundtrack and forming a creepy choir.”

c. 2011 Velocity Weekly

Column #29: The Bonnaroo banner should help Forecastle

Previously on “Mid-Sized Middle-American City”: A young man with a dream throws a
music party in a park. More like a barbecue than Lollapalooza, it would grow into a major festival.

Last month, that young man saw his decade of hard work pay off, selling into the bigger and more successful Bonnaroo Festival of Tennessee.

Next year, the Forecastle Festival — the little festival that would — will be reborn as a Bonnaroo farm team. I, for one, am very happy about this development.

It's no secret to devoted readers that I have written about Captain J.K. McKnight and his Forecastle Festival before, and have committed the crime of suggesting that
some aspects of the fest were less than perfect. There is a difference between a
publicist and a critic, and my job was the latter.

There is also a difference between acting as though everything that is made here is
wonderful — like a parent with a 4-year-old who has learned to tie her own shoes —
and allowing for the possibility that you, me or the other guy might have room for
growth.

Forecastle, which I believe comes from the Native American word for “glowstick,” has
been very enjoyable at times. I have attended three of the festivals, bought art and enjoyed performances by many local bands as well as out-of-towners such as
Sleater-Kinney, Mucca Pazza and Girl Talk.

I haven't been since 2008. That summer, as the lineup became more diverse and a
mbitious, it also became (in my opinion) more schizophrenic and unfocused.

In this magazine, I wrote about that. What I said, for the record, was that I was looking forward to two-thirds of the bands, and less enthused about the remaining third.

Some folks, like the understandably frustrated Captain McKnight, were not
amused. Others were.

I haven't been back mostly because I'm less inclined today to spend a lot of money
to see bands that I like at 1, 4 and 10 p.m. while younger people all around me are
tweaking and tweeting, and having to leave and come back to ignore bands I don't
care about.

I want Forecastle to succeed, not merely try and fail. I want everybody in Louisville to succeed, and I want to like everything — don't you? It would certainly make my life more exciting. But as much as I would like to have the best of everything right outside my door, I don't always.

I am fortunate — in my neighborhood there's a great bakery, a great coffee shop,
some wonderful restaurants and about 109 bars. But when it comes to music festivals,
Forecastle is not yet up there with Lollapalooza, Pitchfork, Coachella or
Bonnaroo.

This new deal with the Bonnaroo folks should give the Captain and his merry crew
the resources to book bigger, better bands. Instead of a stale headliner like De
La Soul or what's left of Smashing Pumpkins, maybe now Louisville will now
be able to land a festival headliner like Radiohead or Eminem.

Will it stay in the concrete fields of downtown, or move to a farm so the
tourists can visit downtown museums without hearing DJs dropping banging club
beats nearby?

Who's going to come here that's never been? Will devoted music fans fly in from
overseas and discover a new love for bourbon? (I hope so — my wedding
reception alone converted a handful of people into bourbon lovers.)

I'm excited to wake up one day next year and hear all about the new model Forecastle. I think that it will be a good thing — a better thing — both for music
and for further proving that Louisville is a great place to live.

c. 2011 Velocity Weekly

Column #28: It's getting harder to find me on TV

A recent story in Entertainment Weekly detailed the history of gay teens on TV, and proclaimed "Glee" as a bold new step forward in their representation. Every year, various minority groups issue reports about their representation on TV, usually to lament how few of them are depicted as successful, mainstream Americans.

So, of course, this got me thinking: How well am I represented on TV?

Who, or what, am I? Do I fit neatly into a multi-racial, or gender-specific, or handicapable box?

Well, I was raised in a Jewish family, though I am not personally religious today. I grew up in Florida, though I have since claimed Louisville as my adoptive home.

I am male, heterosexual, and married to a woman. I am co-parenting three cats, who range from adorable to sassy. I am pursuing higher education, and a part-time journalist, and sometimes I book art shows and music concerts around town.

My interests include the various arts, and good food and drink. Uhh, that's about it, actually. Despite my orientation, sports haven't done much for me since I was in grade school.

So where are there people like me on TV? The most obvious example would be IFC's "Portlandia," the wickedly astute satire of all things hip, organic and counter cultural. Though I can laugh at parts of myself, I think it's safe to say that I am not one of the dumpster divers or lesbian bookstore denizens that they focus on.

MTV's "My Life As Liz" offers much needed respite from the pregnant moms and juiced up self-tanners who otherwise dominate that channel. In season one of this faux reality show, we met Liz, a smart, sarcastic teen in a small town who does battle with the mean girls. In season two, she's made the leap to the big city, where there are more like her, though her problems remain much the same.

I can see Liz as an 18-year-old girl version of a younger me, and though she may be a more idealized version of younger me than "Beavis and Butt-head", it's still nice to see that she has a place on the small screen.

NBC's "Parenthood" has a similarly sarcastic and misunderstood teen girl in Amber, who, as in real life, is frequently shuffled to the background by her family, under the assumption that she can take care of herself as they fight about the other children or their jobs.

HBO's "Treme" offers lots of music, and music lovers, and chefs and food lovers, though Steve Zahn's grating performance as a self-centered DJ is irksome. Lance Robertson as DJ Lance Rock, is much more enjoyable on Nick Jr.'s "Yo Gabba Gabba!," though, again, less like me than I'd like. The goofy rapper Biz Markie also makes appearances, as does nerdy music legend Mark Mothersbaugh of Devo. Sadly, I am probably more like Brobee, the program's confused little green weirdo monster, or whatever he is.

After that, it gets harder to find me on TV. Higher education is represented by a pair of law school students on ABC Family's "Greek," though law is far from my field of studies, and the rest of the cast consists of fraternity and sorority members. AMC's "Mad Men" had a bearded beatnik character who was, predictably, a bit obnoxious and eventually written out.

Fox's "House, M.D." has two Jewish characters who actually look like many people in my family, but otherwise the show avoids cliches in their depiction. Jennifer Carpenter of Showtime's "Dexter" is a native Louisvillian pretending to be a native Floridian, which is at least relatable.

Also, I have been told that I look like one of the "Big Bang Theory" nerds, which is great for my self-esteem.

So, the 2010-11 season has been a so-so time in the history of me on primetime TV. Let's hope that next year we'll see fewer middle-class white guys, and more people like me.

c. 2011 Velocity Weekly

Gen Next: Timothy Tucker

After graduating from the Sullivan University culinary program in 1998, Timothy Tucker worked at upscale restaurants across the country. He was on a quick path to "Top Chef" status.

But in 2005, he veered off onto a different path when he took a job at the Salvation Army's Center of Hope. He would spend the next five years serving meals to the homeless and training at-risk students how to run a kitchen. During his tenure, the program drew positive press from ABC News, CNN and USA Today.

Last year, Tucker, 35, was selected last year by Slow Food USA to attend their conference in Torino, Italy. Tucker and his colleagues exchanged ideas about sustainability, green practices, school system nutrition, rooftop gardens – or, as Tucker sums it up, “all that good stuff.”

Tucker had planned to be gone for a month, but when the Salvation Army couldn’t give him the time off, he left the Center of Hope and ended up spending months traveling throughout Italy, Spain and the Netherlands.

“I became a couch surfer, cooking for parties in exchange for a place to sleep each night,” he said.

In Viterbo, an hour north of Rome, he harvested olive oil and apprenticed with a local chef who made everything from scratch, from bread to liquor. “It was great,” Tucker said, “I didn’t get paid but I got to stay in paradise for free.”

After trying to learn the cuisine as much as he could in Italy and Spain, Tucker found himself in Amsterdam. There, he found many connections between the Dutch and ours, and marveled at their love for fast food – “French fries, waffles, big burgers, they love it all. It’s the opposite of the food pride people have in Italy, where everyone has a super love for making it themselves, and take serious pride in their food.”

Back home in Louisville, Tucker is working on a book about the way food can change lives and is working with an agent to find a publisher. “It’s about inspiration," he said, "why it’s important to get good food, getting good food in institutions and to stop saying that we can’t do it."

While at the Center of Hope, Tucker said he helped dozens of people land jobs or scholarships in the culinary field. One of them, he said, landed a full ride to study at Sullivan.

He's now looking for the next project that blends his skills.

“I’ve been having a renewal of my love for food. It is my passion, and I want to continue to work in food activism.”

c. 2011 Velocity Weekly

Column #27: An old-school road trip, one tune at a time

When I was younger, I was not always happy. I found some solace for my suburban frustrations in loud, aggressive music – punk, avant-garde noise and, mostly, heavy metal. I was an angry teen boy in central Florida at a, well, happy time for fans of heavy music. Napalm Death bleated, “You suffer!” and I nodded in agreement as I set the dinner table, miserable in the knowledge that I still needed to finish my homework.

In hindsight, I probably would have spent my time more wisely becoming a Goth. As some of my suffering came from a lackluster social life, posing as a Goth would have put me in closer proximity to girls. Sure, most lacked the looks and charm of the late ‘80’s Winona Ryder model, but it would have been good practice.

As I matured, I began to realize that most civilized young ladies don’t necessarily respond well to Slayer, Overkill or Carcass. (Their loss). I learned that while most well-bred gals don’t always need to be wooed with Nat ‘King’ Cole, the latter was always better than a romantic setting of dinner, candles, flowers and Pantera.

If the woman I married had had a similar interest in such music, it wouldn’t be a problem. We could share a delightful bubble bath while enjoying the sounds of Morbid Angel together. However, she is a grown woman, not an angry boy, and therefore is more interested in, say, The Shins or the Arcade Fire when it comes to listening to music for pleasure.

It’s not a problem, really, because I, too, am an adult, now, and notably less aggressive these days. If I need a fix of “Reign in Blood,” it’s easily accessed online; I don’t need to spend much time anymore with such expression. Plus, I’ve always been a music fan first; even when I subscribed to “Metal Maniacs,” I also listened to R.E.M., Willie Nelson, Ice Cube and lots of other different music.

In too many years of bad dating, I eventually learned this as well as other lessons, I guess, because someone married this, after all. While this distinction between the genders is, of course, not always so simple – I have 30-something female friends, who, unlike me, would still rather listen to Bad Brains than Joni Mitchell – I’ve found it to be fairly consistent.

In recent years, I’ve had another love – the “shuffle” button. Like many human Americans, my attention span has decreased over the past decade, thanks to evil, wonderful technology. I keep my music moving, sometimes unable to stay on a single song for too long. I’ve never wanted to be That Guy, the one who insists that “You have to hear this!,” plays a record for 20 seconds, then gets impatient and says, “No, wait! You need to hear this instead,” jumping from one to another like Jennifer Aniston picking a boyfriend.

So on a recent road trip to Chicago, I decided to try going back in time and selecting music the way the creator intended – one album at a time. The notion began simply enough; I thought 35 minutes of prime Beatles would get us moving in good spirits. Well, “Rubber Soul” led to the Rolling Stones’ “Exile on Main Street,” which, though a bit thick of a work for such a drive, still helped us push past the 2-hour mark.

I felt a need to keep it lighter, and skipped over Dylan for early Elton John. Fleetwood Mac would’ve been next but the lady at the lunch spot had the same idea, so the Zombies got moved up, which inspired Elliott Smith, a shared favorite.

The White Stripes proved to be “too garage-y,” or noisy, for delicate ears, and Radiohead proved too subtle for the highway, but mostly, it proved to be a successful attempt to keep two people content at the same time. Glenn Danzig may not be any happier now, but I am, and that’s all I ever wanted.

c. 2011 Velocity Weekly

Column #26: Don't know much about astronomy - and that's OK

As I left class for the final time last month, I was filled with mixed emotions. At 36 years old, I probably should have been leaving the class that I had been teaching. Instead, some “interesting” life choices along the way had left me playing catch up on the road to conventional adulthood.

My iPod shuffle landed on “A New Life” by the Marshall Tucker Band, and it fed my confusion. My new life – marriage, domesticity, etc. – had led me back to college to complete a degree, as I now had a future that I could believe in. As such, graduating didn’t mean that I would be moving away, or leaving anyone behind.

Though I had spent the past two years with a regular crew of fellow students all pursuing the same courses, it certainly wasn’t the college experience as seen in “Animal House”. Occasionally, I would even need to turn down invitations to “study” with my colleagues at the New Albanian Brewing Company because, at the moment, I had other responsibilities that my 22-year-old peers did not share. (At other times, however, such “studying” was unavoidable).

I had tasted the classic college life the first time around, and it didn’t agree with me then. At 18, I had no interest in alcohol, and I was more likely to make a friend in a bookstore than in a frat. A suburban upbringing made me hungry to explore a big city, which left less time for classes. I had little interest in subjects that I didn’t enjoy – math and science – and indulged in elective classes such as Italian cinema.

While I continue to argue that my work since – game show winner, pop culture journalist – has benefited from studying the works of Fellini, Rossellini and De Sica, it didn’t help me get closer to an undergrad degree. Part of returning to school at 34 meant accepting the harsh reality that I still had plenty of non-fun classes left to fulfill.

Our mayor’s office wants to get 55,000 more Louisvillians to earn their degree in the next decade. As I have now done so, you’re welcome, folks – only 54,999 left. No one asked me to write about this; in fact, part of why I am writing is to complain about how I would like to see our higher education system overhauled.

I have 30-something friends who have told me that they won’t go back just because they don’t want to make up requirements in subjects that don’t interest them or benefit them. I don’t disagree with them. To my understanding, the point of receiving a general college education about many unconnected subjects is that most 18-year-olds don’t yet know what they’re good at, or what they enjoy doing.

For those “non-traditional” students who return to college past, let’s say, 25, who know that we want to be a nurse or an IT expert, can someone please start a college that doesn’t require us to learn a foreign language? Does a 43-year-old who wants to teach history need to go back to learn more about science?

Are there adults who can’t buy groceries or pay their bills just because they didn’t learn enough math by the time they left high school? (The answer: no). If your job requires a working knowledge of higher math, then let’s hope you already had such knowledge before your boss hired you.

I realize that this is all about money. However, many more people might give lots more money to whomever can give them a degree that doesn’t require spending three years on miscellaneous banalities.

The person who cuts my hair went to hair cutting school at 18, and has enjoyed a fruitful career of cutting hair since graduation from that school. She knows little about Astronomy, and is doing fine.

My college Spanish professor learned more about speaking Spanish by summering in Argentina than she did from a textbook. She probably also couldn’t tell you much about Astronomy.

c. 2011 Velocity Weekly

The Year in Review 2010

This holiday season, I have asked local music special people to share the tale of their year with you, the readers. I don’t know about you, but I want to know about more than just the top records, I also want to know about real life, too. That, and the top records.

CHEYENNE MARIE MIZE, violinist/vocalist, Maiden Radio
Best year yet. 2010 brought me more good things than I ever expected or probably deserve. Much mending and moving forward. It seemed like 2009 was a really bizarre year for everyone I know. But 2010 made up for it. It must have something to do with the planets and stars or something...

The music closest to me tends to stick with me the most. Some folks I've had the honor to work with this year who are totally inspiring and the go-tos in my collection: Doug Paisley - Dark Hand & Lamplight, or his new one Constant Companion; Ólöf Arnalds - Innundir Skinni; Vandaveer - A Minor Spell; Johnny Flynn - Been Listening; Wax Fang - "The Astronaut (Part 1)".

I'm expecting 2011 to be even better.

PATRICK HALLAHAN, drummer, My Morning Jacket
2010 has been a very restorative year for me. Amidst a few macro let downs, the micro has been truly wholesome, and I couldn't ask for anything more. I feel like I've learned more in the past 365 than I have in the whole dance leading up to this moment. And it's good.

I have to start off with the relationship I have with my wife, Brigid. We've been married close to 7 years, been together for over 10, and we've spent a good portion of that time in different cities. Every time I leave for tour, we learn how to live on our own. And just when that makes sense, I come back and we have to learn how to live together again. It's a confusing existence, and it will try your every fiber. BUT, it's made us stronger. 2010 is a year I can say that, just when I think we can't get any closer or make any more sense, we do. If I could give thanks for anything at this year's end, it's that the love of my life is also my best friend.

In addition to a wonderful nucleus at home, I have a fantastic nucleus abroad (also home). 2010 is a year I can say my band mates and I have a complete understanding of one another. We've been blessed with a positive relationship for many years, but for whatever reason 2010 has been a year of total acceptance and cohesion. I very much enjoy playing music with these guys, but it's gotten to the point that when a tour ends or the recording session is over, I genuinely miss being with them. Tom, Carl, Bo, and Jim are amazing, compassionate people, and I am forever thankful that we get to do what we do.

Onward....music. 2010 has been a year of rediscovery vs. discovery. Maybe it was spawned by packing up and moving to a new house, but I've spent a lot of time going back over things that I usually pass by because I've "already had a moment" with them. Pavement. The Beatles. The Jesus Lizard. The Flaming Lips. Fleetwood Mac. Slayer. Simon and Garfunkel. NWA. Rodan. Elton John. I don't know... things that, for whatever reason, I see the name and usually pass because I know how if feels to listen to them. But I was wrong. More life leads to more perspective, and these bands and albums I've so foolishly labeled as "understood" have peeled back my brain once again. Absolute masterpieces.

SCOTT CARNEY, guitarist/vocalist, Wax Fang
This year was both a blast and a blur. I've been busier and more productive this year than any other. I went to Europe for the first time. Played some amazing shows with some amazing people and saw some great bands play. Directed a music video, along with Ryan Daly of the Louisville Film Society, for the band Dead Confederate. And spent the rest of my free time working on the various future releases of Wax Fang. Yep, that's about it.

I really dig the newest Beach House record, Teen Dream. I saw them play in England. They were fantastic. Other than that, the Sparklehorse/Danger Mouse record, Dark Night of the Soul, had some great tunes on it as well, as did the new MGMT double LP, Congratulations.

JOHNNY BERRY, vocalist/bassist, Johnny Berry and the Outliers
Musically, 2010 was a tough year for me. I had a new CD, but it never really got any legs. I also went to book a tour on the East Coast that fell through, they said I wasn’t ‘country enough’. Can you believe that s**t! Yet these very same East Coast urban country music experts, the learned ignorant if you will, will listen to the stupidest lyrics as long as some joker pretended he was Hank Williams while singing them. I was turned down for many showcases and events by several different organizations throughout the year. I guess I’m not cool or hip enough.

With all that said, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I realize what a finicky bunch of know-nothings run the music business and basically everything else. We, as in the American proletariat ‘we’, are screwed. Hell with it. I am now working towards a degree, my children are happy and healthy and I’ll keep on writing and singing songs. I have also begun playing the pedal steel guitar, which is a lot of fun.

I have no idea what my favorite music of the year is. I’ve been listening to truck driver compilation albums, the Wizard of Oz soundtrack and James Brown records from the ‘60′s.

WILLIAM BENTON, guitarist, The Phantom Family Halo
I joined The Phantom Family Halo at the end of 2009, only a couple of weeks before (drummer) Tony (Bailey) passed away. My first tour with them was in December, so I began 2010 with a great surge of energy, being able to write, perform, record and tour with a band that I have always liked very much.

I finally got to see the Louisville installment of "Burn to Shine", shot in 2005. I had always said that if it didn’t come out within a year of it being shot that it would be much cooler to see many years down the line.
The premiere was a great night filled with many friends new and old. The evening opened with incredible and moving performances by Liberation Prophecy, Rachel Grimes, and Bonnie "Prince" Billy with Cairo Gang. Bonnie and Cairo’s set filled the Bomhard theater with no microphones, no P.A., and ranks highly among favorite musical performances I have had the good fortune to witness.

After many years of amazing experiences and many recordings and performances that I am very proud of, I decided that it was time to bow out of Lucky Pineapple. It was the usual circumstances of creative differences but coupled with the logistical difficulties of nine people convening in rural Indiana as often as that band needs to.

Perhaps the most depressing bit of 2010 was that it marked the end of my relatively short marriage. It was long discussed and eventually decided that our worlds were changing and that this was the best decision. We had been "together" for a long time but married less than two years. Oh well. These things happen.
It was the most diplomatic break-up I have ever experienced. I was very lucky.

Dom, of The Phantom Family Halo, moved to Brooklyn and asked me to as well to continue with the band. Between my leaving Lucky Pineapple and being single again, it sounded like a great and exciting idea - so I agreed.
Currently, I am saving money and hoping to head that way in the new year. I hope I can make it.

Favorite albums of 2010:
Gil Scott-Heron - I’m New Here; Grinderman - Grinderman 2; Swans - My Father Will Guide Me Up a Rope to the Sky; Devo - Something for Everybody; Syl Johnson - Complete Mythology; Shipping News - One Less Heartless to Fear; Hank Williams - The Complete Mother’s Best Recordings; Gorillaz - Plastic Beach; The Black Heart Procession - Six; Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy and the Cairo Gang - The Wonder Show of the World

CARRIE NEUMAYER, guitarist/vocalist, Second Story Man
My year was pretty great. I turned 30, traveled around in Turkey, got a new job teaching high school photography, became a dog owner and got engaged. This might be my favorite year I’ve ever had.
Musically, I recorded a new album with Minnow called Hello Hubris. Sadly, we released the album on the same day, November 20th, that we played our last show. Also, Second Story Man lost a band member (bass player Justin Davis left to spend more time with his family and pursue other musical endeavours) but we’ve continued working on writing new material and practicing with our awesome new band member Mike Snowden. We have some cool projects planned for 2011- looking forward to it.

Favorite albums of 2010:
Quasi - American Gong: probably played on repeat more than any other records I bought this year.
Thao with the Get Down Stay Down - Know Better, Learn Faster: Technically came out in 2009, but I discovered them this year.
Superchunk - Majesty Shredding
Versus - On the Ones and Threes
Coliseum - House With a Curse
Beach House - Teen Dream
Shipping News - One Less Heartless to Fear
Stooges Brass Band - It’s About Time (2003) I saw this band in New Orleans at a crowded little bar. Watching the performance and being a part of the crowd was one of most joyous, rowdy, exciting music experiences I’ve had since I started going to punk rock shows.

JEFFREY SMITH, publicist, Crash Avenue
I have to say that 2K10 has been a pretty great year! I'll ultimately mark this year as the year that everything came together. The personal life, the professional life... both firing full-bore! I've been extraordinarily focused on shifting the definition of success and what it means to truly sustain that success within my industry. Honestly, I can say that about my personal life as well. Adulthood has never felt better than in 2010.

I've expanded my management roster this year to include two new magnificently talented human beings: Ms. Cheyenne Marie Mize (from right here in Louisville) and J. Irvin Dally (from Los Angeles)... all while preparing for a new Ben Sollee album for release in May 2011.

In no particular order - and excluding my client's albums... ‘cause they already know I love them!
Kitten - Sunday School
Deerhunter - Halcyon Digest
Sleigh Bells - Treats
Gonjasufi - A Sufi and a Killer
Everything Everything - Man Alive
No Joy - Ghost Blonde
Warpaint - The Fool

JASON NOBLE, guitarist/vocalist, Shipping News
This year was probably the most intense year I can remember - but also one of the most interesting, challenging and inspiring. My wife, Kristin, and I have have been learning how to handle my health issues and it feels like simple things have taken on a certain glow (for lack of a better word). We've felt more excited about life (in whatever circumstance) than I can ever remember. Having time to return to creative projects in the last few months with Shipping News and The Young Scamels has been a real spirit-lifter. Kristin and I have been humbled and amazed by the generosity of the creative people in the Louisville music and art community (and the benefit concerts they organized to help us). Production Simple & ear X-tacy records have also helped us immensely. It's been a very harsh year, with oil spills, multiple wars, a rancorous election cycle and several of the worst natural disasters in history - so, it seems important to remember the thousands who are in very difficult circumstances.
Hopefully 2011 will be a little more peaceful. We could all do more to make that a reality.

For pure enjoyment... we've enthusiastically followed several bands this year. It's been a fantastic time for music and film and theater. Not to be too cheesy, but - it's incredible how powerful music can be - especially if you step back and really open yourself to it - if you can look outside of certain biases or assumptions about style or genre. Here's a very rough "top ten" list and then several very honorable mentions...
Shannonwright - Secret Blood
Parlour - Simulacrenfield
Big Boi - Sir Lucious Left Foot: The Son of Chico Dusty
Massive Attack - Heligoland
Coliseum - House With A Curse
Wax Fang - "The Astronaut (Part 1)"
Frontier(s) - There Will Be No Miracles Here
Cerebellum - Cerebellum LP reissue
Various - RISE: A Louisville Lip Records Tribute to Kinghorse
Chime Hours - Chime Hours EP

Column #25: What does the future hold for Ear X-tacy?

I recently found a book called “Louisville Savoir Fair,” which billed itself as “a discriminating guide to the city's best shops, boutiques, restaurants, unique services and attractions.” Given that it was published in 1984, there is no Ear X-tacy to be found here; the section “Music and Home Amusement” only has one entry, Wilder Electronics in St. Matthews, which then sold stereo equipment “from well-known manufacturers such as Sony, Fischer, RCA, Zenith, Sanyo and Quasar.”

If that's not enough to make you think about how much has changed, the top restaurants listed included Casa Grisanti, Sixth Avenue and Kaelin's. Today, we have so many wonderful restaurants that if three of the best were to close, it would be a shame, but no one would be denied a special meal.

Last month, I attended a record release event. The band, Shipping News, had long recorded for the independent Touch and Go Records until the label, a mainstay of indie music since 1981, announced in early 2009 that it would no longer release new music.

The band's new album was recorded mostly at Skull Alley, an all-ages venue downtown that will soon close its doors after less than three years in business. On the way to the event, I also passed by Highland Records, which has now closed.

The host of the release party was Ear X-tacy, the record store that has been the center of the local music community since 1985, and twice this year has urgently asked Louisvillians to spend more money to keep it from closing.

Store owner John Timmons' pleas, which have been met with a combination of support and derision, demand, if nothing else, that we think more about the role that Ear X-tacy plays in this community and what future it should have — if any. (Disclosure: I once worked at Ear X-tacy.)

We still have a good independent record store in Underground Sounds, but it is much smaller and unable to host free performances by the likes of My Morning Jacket, The Secret Sisters and The Del McCoury Band. Though it has a more carefully curated selection, it doesn't have nearly as much product as Ear X-tacy. Nor does it have nearly as many staffers with knowledge and opinions about a wide range of culture. While doing so saves Underground Sounds thousands of dollars in expenses each month, it also makes it less of a central meeting point for the greater community.

Still, we've existed relatively happily for a few years now with only Carmichael's Books. Does this community also need another, bigger shop like Hawley-Cooke, which was absorbed into the Borders chain? At least there are no major music retail chains left that directly challenge Ear X-tacy; that victory has been won by iTunes, illegal downloading and big-box stores like Walmart.

Do we need a store like Ear X-tacy to exist as a community center? The radio station WFPK offers “Live Lunch” and summer concerts, which provide a social scene as much as a free show. We have festivals of varying quality. And 21c museum hotel offers a stream of art, music, food and drinks. So the teens who loitered outside of Ear X-tacy now annoy people outside Qdoba instead.

Some want to designate the Twig & Leaf diner a historic location. One mistake made by Ear X-tacy was in moving five times and never establishing an iconic location. Which business deserves protection more? Meanwhile, shouldn't we also be considering protection for the Louisville Orchestra?

If our city's leaders want to point to symbols of our city's awesomeness, do they need to do something to keep them viable?

The local radio and concert business will see a negative effect if Ear X-tacy disappears. Perhaps WFPK could host a pledge drive, and truly make Ear X-tacy the people's store. Perhaps it needs to merge with another business threatened by technology, like a book shop or video store.

There are many empty storefronts downtown that would welcome such a tenant. Perhaps it will take Ear X-tacy merging with one of the area's plentiful wig stores to keep it alive.

C. 2010 Velocity Weekly

Holiday Gift Guide 2010

Among the many joys of Louisville life is how small, and efficient, our community is when it comes to commuting. What can take an hour in Chicago takes five minutes here, and I'm beyond thankful for that. Time is money, after all, and the holiday shopping season is when we need even more of both.

On a recent afternoon, my shopping took me from the revitalized New Albany downtown to the west side of downtown Louisville, and then on to Butchertown's one-stop shopping mecca. The drive from point A to point C is only 15 minutes, so I had plenty of time left over to look around some fun, surprising, local shops.

My adventure began at Destinations Booksellers (604 E. Spring St.), where Randy Smith suggested a pair of interesting reads. Bill Bryson's "At Home: A Short History of Private Life" ($28.95), said Smith, "has a universal appeal. It's the history of the things that we live around, the rooms we live in, full of anecdotes and trivia about - for example - How did we start eating in dining rooms? It's good for anyone, 18 to 80."

On a more focused note, Smith guessed that "Daily Show" contributor Lewis Black's new, caustic collection, "I'm Dreaming of a Black Christmas" ($19.95), in which the comedian gleefully attacks all things holiday-related, would appeal to the alt-weekly set.

"I think a lot of the 'Daily Show' fans would enjoy this. It's the follow-up to his book, 'Me of Little Faith'."

That might be good for your college-aged brother, but your hip niece who reminds you of "Juno" would prefer something handmade from The Dandy Lion (310 Bank St.). Co-owner Katy Traughber goes straight to a collection of prints by artist Matt Cipov.
"I think these are amazing. I love 'em because I feel like they're really playful. I can see a guy or a girl hanging these. I haven't seen anything like this in this area yet. I kinda like the creepiness about it, too."

Both boys and girls have those times when they want to drink a little drank, but aren't supposed to. For those times, Traughber recommends any one of their various flasks, and agrees with my manly selection of one in particular: "I like the skull flask, it's got moth wings on the back. It's also got a little bit of Art Deco."

The new DL has another new neighbor within walking distance. Michelle Byrne recently opened Creative Handmade Arts Boutique (302 Pearl St.) with her husband Billy.

Billy makes some eye-catching wine bottle toppers ($25), for those of us who need to drink even more when the family's around. Michelle explains that it's the detailing that helps their toppers stand out. "He uses mainly exotic woods from South America, like walnut."

Keeping it in the family, Michelle also recommends the "Dusk to Dawn" soy candles ($16). "The soy candles are really popular. They're really creamy. My sister-in-law makes them, she's local. They're all-natural, they don't leave black soot on your walls! When the wax has burned, you can actually use the lotion as a moisturizer."

There's even more to see in downtown New Albany these days, but I'm on a mission, because this magazine loves all of Kentuckiana equally, and it's downtown Louisville's chance to impress me.

Glassworks (815 W. Market St.) is known for their glassblowing, event spaces and awe-inspiring lofts. I also know them because their gift shop has helped me buy presents for Mom through the years.

Sherry Daws turns me on to some fused glass cufflinks ($32), which are more for Dad, but hey, he needs presents, too, right?
"They're created with Dichroic glass, which was patented by NASA. When you look at it from different directions, it changes colors. A very reasonable price, and very sparkly. You'll look very special when you wear them!"

You can't leave the Glassworks gift shop without finding something that you need by the new, exclusive Glassworks Home Collection. I selected an assortment of Ball Stemware ($67.50). Daws notes, "They come in such a nice assortment of colors. Their nice jewel tones complement any decor. They're long and they're elegant, and they're crafted here at Glassworks."

More family gifts in tow, I turn around the corner, where the Frazier International History Museum (829 W. Main St.) also offers a full-scale gift shop, in addition to their more obvious attributes.

Krista McHone helps me pick out a pair of gifts for the young and young-at-heart. An LED 3D puzzle ($20.99) is fun, and educational, for boys and girls.
"In the LED series, we have Statue of Liberty, Big Ben, Tower of Pisa, Empire State Building and the White House. You light 'em up and they'll twinkle. We've got a huge Eiffel Tower one, also. I looove those. They're fairly easy to put together, too."

My wife loves three-dimensional wall art, so I pick up a cardboard Bison "trophy" ( Small - $16.99, Medium - $29.99, Large - $54.99), which is like crafty, animal-cruelty-free taxidermy. "We have brown or white cardboard, and it's also available in Buffalo, Elephant, Deer, Rhino and Moose."

We already have the deer and the buffalo at home, so I pack up my new Bison buddy and head on down the road.

Inside the Butchertown Market (1201 Story Ave.), the porcine smells of the neighbors (The JBS Swift plant, The Blind Pig restaurant) disappear, as you're transported to an overseas-style bazaar.

In Canoe Textiles, it's hard to choose between all the unique rugs, jewelry and other hard-to-find items. Kelli Wicking points me to the scarves ($118). "All of our scarves are hand-done, and this is a lightweight cashmere scarf. It's great for the winter, it will keep you warm - but it's also such a light weight that it can be worn into the spring. These are all vegetable-dyed, as well, so the colors are really vibrant. We have a large variety of them."

Another option is a Kilim wallet ($50). "This is made in Turkey. It's leather. Killims are flat weave rugs, so these are made out of the rug remnants."

In an adjoining pair of rooms, Work the Metal is busy, and my visit fell on a Monday, when I expected it would be quieter.

My sister-in-law has never met a fleur-de-lis she didn't love, and Jack Mathis is happy to show me some locally-centric items.
A coaster set (a set of 4 for $19) "is made locally, it sells really well. It's made with marble, and it's screen-printed. It has a fleur-de-lis and says, 'Louisville.' Some of them just say have a fleur-de-lis, with no words. It's a really affordable gift. They come in about 20 different designs."

I'm concerned that I don't have enough drinking paraphernalia, so I'm glad to see an aluminum ice bucket with a scoop ($30 and $10). "It's not local," warns Mathis, "but it represents Louisville with the fleur-de-lis. A lot of people will pair it with this ice scoop. That's a great gift, a good hostess gift, wedding present gift..."

Visitors to Work the Metal can now also check out the new storefront of Cellar Door Chocolates, where Erika Chavez-Graziano has found space to not only make but also sell her treats. Best of all, she's generous with handing out samples.

I can't think of a better way to reward myself, after doing so much shopping for others (and, OK, maybe a bit for myself, too). Chavez-Graziano tells me that I have to try her white chocolate pretzels ($5 for a quarter pound). "They have Christmas designs, and they are wildly popular during Christmas!"

A variety pack "is always a good hostess gift. It's good to leave in your guest room. It's one of our best sellers. They come in 5, 6 or 7 pieces." (5 piece is $6, 6 piece is $7 and the 7 piece is $8.)

c. 2010 Velocity Weekly

Column #24: I always shop local, except when I don't

Congratulations, fellow residents of the hottest city in the country. It’s Thanksgiving, it’s cold, and it’s about time we started thinking about buying dumb, useless presents for those friends, relatives and coworkers whom we don’t care much about or know very well.

Regular readers hopefully think of me as a proud and fervent supporter of all things local, independent, handmade, ethical, fair trade, organic and/or Socialist. Despite our recent election results, I am still Kentucky Proud, and have not yet applied for French citizenship.

There’s little than can excite me faster than a market full of cheeses grown by old hippie ladies, earrings depicting a child literally hugging a tree, and soaps made with hemp drained from Willie Nelson’s beard.

I hope that, during this year’s sprint of mindless consumerism and consumption, we can agree that there are many reasons why we should all be making gifts, or discovering them at one of the locally-owned boutiques around town that do so much to keep Louisville weird or, at least, less dull.

Recently, shops like The Green Haus, Acorn, Hey Tiger, Revelry, Consider and Creative have joined proven favorites The Makery, WHY Louisville, Dot Fox, Cherry Bomb, Ultra Pop and Work the Metal. We now have a Dandelion and a The Dandy Lion. We have two Regalos, and now we also have a Rigolo.

I also love our grand antique malls, home design shops and used bookstores.

So, should I be troubled by my growing awareness that there are some corporate chains whose goods I find equally desirable?

These chains fall into two categories: clothing or food. These are also categories that fall into the life-or-death section; though, if you asked me what my essential needs where, I’d probably list books, vinyl records and paintings of angry clowns before stopping to think that, well, no, those aren’t technically essential needs.

When it comes to clothing, it can be tough, in a town this size, to find clothes that I can call comfortable, relatively stylish, and affordable. When I lived in bigger cities, I was able to stock my drawers with thrift and vintage store finds. Not only is that tougher here, but, at 36, I also have to deal with the fact that some of my past choices are no longer quite so age-appropriate.

(As I age, I’ve realized that I’ll never be old enough for my older relatives. To them, I will always be 8. Anyone under 20, however, already seems to think that I’m “old”, 40 or 50, and “so weird.”)

So, to solve my essential clothing needs, I have found myself augmenting my locally handmade organic clothes with items from Banana Republic, The Gap and J. Crew. I have found clothing at Target, and I know that I’m not alone in that decision.

This month, I made my first ever trip to The Summit, the outdoor shopping plaza so far north of my neighborhood that I thought I had traveled to Canada. It wasn’t as painful as I had expected. The natives were polite, and on a brisk fall day, it’s more life-affirming to walk outside than to be stuck in an endless indoor mall.

The Summit is also home to Five Guys Burgers & Fries, whose fresh deliciousness thrills me every time. If the other fast food chains turned out products like this, I would visit them, too. Out West, I loved In-n-Out, and have missed them dearly.

On a healthier note, I am thankful for Subway, especially while on the road. What a concept – a chain where one can find relatively healthy food. Imagine if that caught on…

That’s about it: A handful of clothing stores, and a handful of fast food stops. I will be buying my people presents from my favorite local boutiques this year, again, as well as making some lovingly selected mix CDs.

But I will also be back up North soon, because that new frozen yogurt chain, 32 Degrees, is fantastic.

Column #23: A music lover searches for the perfect venue

It's not too loud, but I'm starting to feel that I'm getting too old.

Now that the music industry has been destroyed, can we agree that such concepts are outdated? The idea of "selling out" by licensing your song to a car commercial sure went the way of the Edsel, and many a band has made their name in the background of a tearful "Grey's Anatomy" sex-with-a-ghost scene. Do we still have to chastise folks for committing the crime of aging past 30?

In my parents' era, a popular notion was that "You can't trust anyone over 30." What's today's equivalent? You can't trust anyone who doesn't have a Facebook profile? (OK, maybe you can trust 'em, but how else will you find out about their dating history, or whether or not they "like" "Saying 'dude' when you get excited about something"?)

It’s not too loud. I’m much happier listening to extreme Japanese death metal than Sheryl Crow. However, I’m also a lot more interested in some other things – cooking, gardening, yoga – than I was 6 years ago.

There’s nothing wrong with that, is there? It would be wrong if I was still the same foolish 20-something, staying out drinking all night and dating the wrongest people available.

In my 20-year career of attending live music performances, I have rarely been impressed by the way in which they are presented. My earliest concerts – Stevie Wonder, Billy Joel, Chicago – were all in the enormo-domes which are today saddled with corporate names like “The Mayor McCheese Amphitheater.” (Yum!)

My gateway concert was seeing the Dead Milkmen, outdoors on the campus of the University of South Florida, at 5 in the afternoon. At 16, I was beginning to soak up the non-commercial sounds of the weird and wacky punks of the time, but hearing those cassettes was nothing like walking into a field of weirdoes with colored hair, odd piercings and torn clothes. Even then, though, while I enjoyed the spectacle, I knew that I could never truly be one of them.

I’ve never felt comfortable in any one clique, an unfortunate circumstance probably exacerbated by moving amongst several cities. I’ve always been too punk for preppies, and too preppy for punks. My athletic abilities peaked when I was 9, but theater never held much appeal, either. Piano lessons were abandoned, though not as quickly as guitar lessons.

Otherwise, as a listener, music has all but replaced religion as my religion. The search for the perfect song can never end, and that is wonderful. It’s the gift that keeps on giving, no matter what Sting or Rod Stewart do to it.

From classy concert halls to some dude’s beer-soaked basement, from coffeehouses to progressive churches, from radio station rooftops to the back rooms of Mexican restaurants, I’ve seen some transcendent moments - from the surprise triumph of the Buena Vista Social Club in their full glory to Monotonix tearing up the Pour Haus - and, in hindsight, witnessed some bittersweet history (Nirvana’s last tour, Stevie Ray Vaughan’s last tour, an unintelligibly wasted Elliott Smith six weeks before his death).

But here’s the thing. At most of these times, I’ve always wanted to be some place more comfortable. Perhaps there’s a contradiction between wanting to lounge while watching crazy Israelis empty trash cans on the drummer’s head midsong, but hey, that’s how I roll.

I haven’t become too old. Internally, I’ve always been too old. I’ve always preferred sitting over standing, especially over many hours. Also, I’m not Jack Bauer – I’m not doing anything extremely important before 11 p.m., so feel free to start playing your songs shortly after dinner, OK? If the music’s good enough, it’ll sound just as good at 7:30 as it will at 1:30.

Will I one day be able to watch every concert on demand, at home? Will I miss anything meaningful? If so, will it be more exciting than playing with my cats and not paying $12 in “convenience fees”?

c. 2010 Velocity Weekly