Mary Lou Lord "His Indie World"

Exiting the Wilco show at The Orpheum, we had a nice after-show treat.

My brother-in-law and I were going to hop to T and head back to his place in Somerville, but we hung around the station, because Mary Lou Lord was there.

I know she's not a huge, worldwide name, but at that point in her career (2001-ish), she was well known enough that she could book gigs at respectable venues.  She didn't have to busk to get an audience.

But she did it anyway, which I always thought was pretty cool.

Actually, don't know why more artists aren't out there.

For those who say they play because they have to, it seems like a great way to work.  Kind of like a comedian who does an unannounced set at a tiny club as a way to try out material, busking is a great chance to try out new songs on an audience, without subjecting something un-vetted on a paying crowd.

She took requests and I called out for some Richard Thompson.  Later she played an updated version of "His Indie World" changing it to something like "His Roots Rock World" substituting the hip indie bands in the original, for hip Alt-Roots bands of the day.

I always wanted to work the line in the original, about "Give me my Joni, my Nick, Neil and Bob" into something for mvy, because it seemed to fit us so well.  And our listeners would be sure to get the reference of the title of her song "Jingle Jangle Morning."  And "Lights Are Changing" just sounds like a song we should be playing.

But I don't see her on mvyradio when I hear these songs, I see Mary Lou Lord in the Park Street Station stop of the T, just playing her songs, happily, for those who wanted to stop and listen.


Hear "His Indie World" on Youtube.


Hear "Lights Are Changing" on Youtube.


Hear "Some Jingle Jangle Morning" on Youtube.

Weezer "Troublemaker"

One of the most positive bits political activism in 2010 (in a year jam-packed with negativity) has been the "It Gets Better" campaign, which sought to reach out to despondent gay young people (like the really great video from Pixar, below), and let them know that life isn't as dark or despairing or lonely, as it feels to many gay teens and young adults.

It made me wish that there was an "It Gets Better" campaign, for nerds.

While the generalized intolerance (and sometimes, vitriol) that exists for homosexuality is far greater than that which is visited upon the population of nerdy teens, on an individual basis, I can say with certainty that there are kids now, just as there were when I was in high school, who are treated with a level of crushing cruelty and physical intimidation, that we should ALL be horrified to know exists.

Smart kids, un-athletic kids, odd kids and just plain awkward kids, who have been subject to bullying, mistreatment and ostracism, could use their own "It Gets Better" campaign. A message from those who's brains, creativity, individuality and plain different-ness, went from being a youthful liability, to the secret of their adult success.

And if there ever were a spokesperson for that "It's Gets Better" campaign, it's this guy --->

This shy, bespectacled, sweater-vested, Dungeons And Dragons playing, poetry-writing, drama-club belonging, Harvard-going student, grew up to be the leader of one of the most successful rock bands of the last 15 years.

If there ever were a video for this proposed campaign, it's this:



That kid in the picture, who got bullied and beat up and pushed the to margins in middle school, was rocking a sold-out crowd, the center of attention and adulation, the coolest guy in the room, leading a sing-along from the balcony of The Orpheum in Boston, still wearing a pretty uncool sweater.

Hell yeah, it gets better.

Weezer "In The Garage"

Tonight my wife, her brother, my sister and I, are headed to The Orpheum in Boston to catch Weezer.

This is part of their "Memories" tour, where, tonight, their going to play their first album in its entirety. Woohoo!

Thinking about that first record (which I know each of the 4 of us listened to, tons) brings back the mid-90s for sure. But thinking about that first album cover sent me straight to the garage.

I've previously mentioned the recent fruitful trip to the garage, and just this weekend remembered that I had seen my special Christmas card folder.

For a good dozen years, I made my own Christmas cards. And in the pre-Photoshop era, I'd do most of the work with a pair of scissors, some glue, and the company photocopier.

The year after Weezer's debut came out, this was my Christmas greeting to all, with my head in place of guitarist Brian Bell's (on the right):

Here's the original:

And for your enjoyment, a selection of other entertaining cards from different years. Photoshop did become an option.

Here's the first card I did with my wife:

And for years, we waited for our daughter to be old enough to play the role of Zuzu.

Hooray for the garage!!!




Clips from the whole album:

Counting Crows “A Long December”

Some people dismiss Counting Crows, saying Adam Duritz takes himself too seriously. But if you were at The Orpheum in Boston, in 1999, you know differently.

At the time, I was still living in the South, but was coming up to New England for my sister’s wedding. As usual, I perused Pollstar.com to see if there were any good shows in Boston, on the dates I was in town.

The day after the wedding, Counting Crows were schedule to play at The Orpheum, with another favorite band, Gigolo Aunts. So I got tickets.

As it happened, the show was October 31st. Halloween. We joked about going to the show in costume.

The Counting Crows did not joke.

I’ll never forget the band taking the stage. Backlit and silhouetted, I could make out a shape.

“Is he dressed in a bunny suit?!?!?”

Yes, Adam Duritz was dressed in a giant, white, fluffy bunny suit, complete with ears.

Other band members where dress up too. The bass player performed the full show in a robe and Yoda mask. One guitarist had a red devil suit and the other was a Russian soldier. It was pretty cute.

But better than cute, it added a really interesting element to the show.

Duritz would sing these heart-wrenching, very personal lyrics, the sincerity of which was completely undercut by the fact that he was standing there dressed as a bunny. It was hard to take him seriously, and it made the whole thing totally charming.

The giant bunny sat at the piano, for a stripped down version of “A Long December.” But he had to stop and start a couple of times, because he kept cracking up, knowing how silly it all was.

I remember walking out of The Orpheum thinking, Every concert should be that good.

The interpretations of familiar songs were adventurous, the playing was impeccable, and while the music had majesty, the show was completely devoid of rock or singer-songwriter pomposity.

Like all singers, every show, should be made to dress as a bunny.

Garbage “Vow”

Thinking about last week’s Neko Case post, and the YouTube video that went with it, brought me back a decade and a half, to the Orpheum in Boston.

We had gone to a WFNX (the alternative station in Boston) event. You know, one of those throwdowns where the local radio station twists the arm of a few labels, to put on a free show featuring some of their bands. The shows are usually an eclectic mishmash of artists---you go for one particular band, and end up seeing some others you might not have otherwise.

We were hanging in the front row of the balcony, enjoying Black Grape and our faves, Letters To Cleo. We figured since we were there, we’d watch the headliner, Garbage.

“We” was me, my sister, her then-boyfriend (and now husband) and my girl friend. Not my girlfriend. Just a friend. You know how that goes.

I liked Garbage’s records well enough, though I don’t know that I would have gone out to see them specifically.

But seeing them live, there was certainly much more going on. Maybe it was the really understated, ace playing of Steve Marker and Duke Erikson. Or maybe it was the near mechanical precision of drummer Butch Vig. Or maybe . . .

“Uh, PJ. Maybe you want to close your mouth . . .” my friend suggested.

Yeah. Shirley Manson. In big boots and a short skirt. Red hair whipping around. Moving, strutting, grinding, vamping in a way that I couldn’t take my eyes off of.

“C’mon. Her moves are so cliche, it's practically scripted. You’re really falling for that?” she asked.

Umm. Yes.

After a minute of back and forth, I had to bring in my sister and her boyfriend.

“Is Shirley Manson really sexy, or fake sexy?”

My sister said something dismissive. I don’t remember her exact words, but they were along the lines of, “She’s dancing like a woman who’s doing a performance of what some man told her a sexy woman should look like.”

There was a pregnant pause, and then my future brother-in-law said:

“It worked on me.”

Me to.