Columns

I first heard William Fitzsimmons before I saw him.  As I stepped down the stairs of the Duck Room, the basement venue of the must-see Blueberry Hill in St. Louis, I took notice of the heartbreakingly tender voice that filled the hushed room.  That soft voice forced me to pause; it contained this indescribable, poignant quality that instantly captured my attention.  So, before I moved further to find my post in the audience for the rest of the show, I went to Fitzsimmons’s merch stand to buy his then latest release, Goodnight.  Thirty aurally pleasing seconds was all I needed.

“It’s always been the honest kind of writing that strikes a chord with me.”Those were Brooke Fraser’s direct words to me as we spent around 40 minutes in conversation earlier this summer. Originally from New Zealand, Fraser was speaking from Los Angeles, getting ready for her summer tour that would take her all across the U.S. to perform songs from her most recent CD, Albertine.

It’s no secret that Ryan Adams has received his fair share of criticism – from both the media and listeners alike – over the length of his career. I’ve heard so many of the same, overused adjectives thrown his way that they’ve now become clichés to avoid. But, for the sake of argument, let’s review: prolific, eccentric, egotistical, volatile…just to name a few. I mean, didn’t Adams once kick an audience member out of a show after that supposed fan taunted him with a “Summer of ’69” song request? Or is that an urban legend?

The Shotgun is a monthly series of Shotgun CD reviews, by Glide contributor Eric Saeger

One of the great things about the Warped Tour is its desire to showcase activist and charitable organizations. Rock for Health is one such organization whose goals center around health care and advice for musicians who are frequently without any resources. Kristina Grossmann, president of Rock for Health, answered a few questions about the organization and its presence on the tour.

I usually don’t go to concerts by myself, but sometimes curiosity gets the best of me. And last winter, Jessica Sonner was a major curiosity of mine. Having listened to her music via her MySpace page for a few days, I was hooked; and luckily for me, she was coming to town.  So while my wife worked a night shift, I saw her play an early set at Off Broadway in St. Louis, and I was gratefully rewarded with an intimate performance.  It was just her and an acoustic, one that had been damaged on the plane the day before.  She seemed concerned about it, and I don’t blame her – for most songwriters, a certain guitar is irreplaceable.  Sonner seemed no different.

With a sophomore album, The '59 Sound out this month, a small stage appearance on Warped Tour, and a love for the Bronx, this Jersey punk outfit is making great strides in a short amount of time.  If you were one of the thousands who grabbed the leaked album online…you already knew that.

If there’s an underdog pick for album of the year so far – Plants and Animals’ Parc Avenue deserves consideration.  The Montreal band, originally an acoustic/instrumental roots band, has grown into an expansive rock pop engine of epic anthems and ballads, much like fellow Montrealers Arcade Fire.  We emailed wise guy drummer Matthew Woodley a few questions…just don’t call him “hippie.”

A few days before I went to my first Mason Jennings concert at the now defunct Mississippi Nights, my mom came to visit me in Saint Louis. We had lunch at the famous Blueberry Hill, and we may or may not have had a few too many Bloody Marys with our hamburgers and fries. I knew that Jennings was playing an in-store set later that day up the street at Vintage Vinyl, and I dragged my mother along to check it out.

In the summer of 1998, I can’t remember exactly when, I went out and bought a copy of Neil Young’s Comes a Time. The album’s words have stayed with me for a long time; it remains one of my favorite Young albums, and I still don’t know what to call it: county, folk, or just great music that is timeless. I don’t mind that I can’t categorize it, because I’ll have it forever, and that’s all that matters to me.

Circular Sounds is the fourth LP from San Francisco’s home recording auteur Kelley Stoltz. Its 14 songs are a stereophonic advance on the lo-fidelity psych-fuzz of Antique Glow (Beautiful Happiness, 2004) and the mid-fi piano-rock of Below the Branches (Sub Pop, 2006): two modest masterpieces which, by a curious coincidence, both made #24 in MOJO magazine’s “Best Albums” list for their respective years.

One late spring day during my sophomore year of college, four or five months after my grandma passed away from a not-so-lengthy bout with lung cancer, I walked out of the English building and onto the quad. At the base of the concrete stairs, I saw a pile of pink dogwood blossoms shed by the nearby trees intermixed with a plentiful smattering of cigarette butts. I had been living in a hyperaware state for quite some time by then, but the juxtaposition of the ugly and the beautiful, sitting there on the ground, stunned me.

Last week I read in an interview where singer-songwriter Kathleen Edwards said she used to listen to music on the bus to school and wonder what others were thinking. Feeling so moved by what she was listening to, she “couldn’t understand how people weren’t as affected as [she] was.” Edwards went on to talk about the real music bug you eventually get when “you start discovering music on your own and not music that friends are telling you about.”

In Fahrenheit 451, Ray Bradbury describes a dystopian society that has completely eliminated books, inspirations for free thought. Newspapers, films, and albums have also been shunned. Guilty pleasure television has taken over as the preferred recreational activity. After a life-altering incident, the protagonist, Guy Montag, realizes that something worth experiencing must lie inside books, and he begins a quest to discover the magic that has long been outlawed.

Somehow, every word that David Ford sings feels so personal that it hurts me to listen. I need 30-second breaks in between tracks. Lucinda Williams does this to me. So does Matthew Ryan. I try to relate, but I end up going numb, only because I have no idea of the pain they speak of in their songs. Somehow, every word that David Ford sings feels so personal that it hurts me to listen. I need 30-second breaks in between tracks. Lucinda Williams does this to me. So does Matthew Ryan. I try to relate, but I end up going numb, only because I have no idea of the pain they speak of in their songs. Somehow, every word that David Ford sings feels so personal that it hurts me to listen. I need 30-second breaks in between tracks. Lucinda Williams does this to me. So does Matthew Ryan. I try to relate, but I end up going numb, only because I have no idea of the pain they speak of in their songs.

Some artists communicate either through slashing guitar riffs, confessional lyrics, hydraulic drumming, catchy two part harmonies or long winded jamming.  L.A. based Dengue Fever chooses to communicate by taking a psychedelic ride on the Cambodian pop sounds of the 60’s. 

Throughout my 28 years on earth, I haven’t often wished for the opportunity to switch places with another person. I’ve been relatively content with my God-given goods, never really obsessing over my anatomical deficiencies or intellectual shortcomings. However, that all changed one night when I went to a Ray LaMontagne concert in St. Louis.

The Whigs’ 2005 debut Give ‘Em All A Big Fat Lip was an album any young band would ache to call their own. The self released/self financed debut allowed the Athens, Georgia trio to be dubbed “the best un-signed band in America” by Rolling Stone Magazine.

On occasion, some of my friends will ask why I listen to such “depressing music,” and I’ve always found that curious. Sure, I see their point, a lot of the stuff I enjoy features subject matter that is dark and gloomy—but, in my opinion, there is a unique kind of hope buried deep within slow, sad songs. I love them.

P.B.S. (Porter, Batiste, Stoltz) is finally getting the opportunity to cool their heels a bit after an extended West coast tour that took them to cities large and small. Along the way in Portland Oregon, Glide had the opportunity to sit down with George Porter Jr., Russell Batiste Jr., and Brian Stoltz to talk about the rigors and realities of life on the road, the inspirational process of creating music together, and George Porter Jr.’s obsession with the internet.