I've been thinking a lot about the recently announced Get Up Kids reunion that is coming down the (Mass) pike in 2009. And while I'm always up to see a killer band from my teenage years one more time, I have to say that I'm not nearly as excited about the whole thing as I thought I would be.
The Get Up Kids were an unbelievably huge influence on me growing up. I first discovered them via a mixtape (tape!) I got from my friend Liz in my sophomore year high school English class in 1997, along with other equally amazing bands such as Braid, Jejune, Jimmy Eat World and Texas Is The Reason. TGUK quickly became one of my favorite bands, yet I somehow went without seeing them until 2001, when they opened for Weezer -- nearly two years after their sophomore album, Something To Write Home About, came out. You could tell the band were ready to move onto something different, and they did just that with On A Wire in 2002 (still an incredibly underrated album, even though it has its fair share of stinkers). Regardless, it was exciting to watch the Get Up Kids grow up -- they were the first "emo" band to tour in a bus, the first "emo" band to debut on the Billboard Top 200 -- what may be commonplace nowadays was once completely forbidden and unknown territory for bands of their ilk, and TGUK did an incredible job blazing the trail and showing just how far you could make it with a DIY ethic and very strong songs.
When the band announced their farewell tour in 2005, it wasn't really all that much of a surprise. The scene had moved onto other things, and the music the Get Up Kids popularized wasn't a huge draw anymore. The band, not even 10 years into their career, had already become a "nostalgia" act. I drove up to Detroit to see one of TGUK's last shows, and while I had a blast, I could definitely tell it was time for them to give up the ghost and explore other things.
This is why this impending reunion tour doesn't sit right with me. The band didn't break up suddenly or fade off into obscurity like some of their early peers -- if you were paying any attention at all to the rock underground between 1997 and 2005, you had at the very least heard of the Get Up Kids, even if you hadn't seen them (which also seems slightly impossible, given their tireless touring as well as prime opening slots for Green Day, Weezer and Dashboard Confessional). When they finally rode off into the sunset in '05, it's not like people hadn't been given fair warning, either.
I dunno. All reunion tours, no matter what the band members say, are on some level about cashing in on your legacy. Some bands are more open about that than others (hello, John Lydon), but it's the truth. Sure, many of the bands love cranking out their songs one more time, but there is always a financial reward for doing so, many times greater than what the band were making in the trenches when they were together. But anyway, for some reason, this one just feels a bit too much like a cash-in, and an odd one at that. I haven't noticed an influx of TGUK soundalikes (I wish there were, frankly; one more New Found Glory ripoff band and I'm gonna scream), nor any bigger mainstream band jocking them particularly hard; it just seems like if you really wanted to let your legend grow, you'd wait more than three years.
Will I go watch the Get Up Kids if they come through town next tear? Goddamn right I will, and I'll be singing along as loud as I can, too. But if it were up to me, I'd tell the band to listen to one of my favorite songs by them: "Stay Gone."
PS - If you seriously somehow have never heard the Get Up Kids, check out some of these songs below. They're just the tip of the iceberg of jams for this band:
How was your Thanksgiving? Good? Great. Now that you've recovered from your food comas, I have a mission for you all: Watch the below music video and write new lyrics.
I want you to keep the "Do you like..." and "Yeah we like..." lines -- just come up with the best new lyrics possible and the winner will get a prize from my office. For example, you could do:
Do you like pizza? Yeah, we like pizza! Do you like ice cream? Yeah, we like ice cream! Do you like Skittles? Yeah, we like Skittles! Doo-doo-da-doo Can't wait to get a mouthful!
Obviously, I expect much funnier output from you than pizza, ice cream and Skittles. Make sure to stick with the proper syllable amount. Again, the best new lyrics will win a prize out of my office. What that is, I'm not sure yet, since I'm still in Illinois for the holiday, but come Monday morning, I will dig around and make sure it's something totally badass. Onward, faithful readers!
My friend is coming to pick me up in under 30 minutes to take me to the airport, so I can fly back to Illinois to be with my family for Thanksgiving (and my girlfriend's family--we're actually pulling double duty tomorrow, so expect me to return 20 pounds heavier, not just 10 pounds like I was planning).
I haven't packed a thing, but instead I'm ripping more CDs into my iTunes so I can dump them on my iPod.
So Mom, if I miss my flight, blame the following, all of which I've been listening to a ton of at work and all of which I wholeheartedly endorse you spending your hard-earned cash on when you head out on Black Friday to score a 67" plasma TV for $17.99 or something:
Have a happy Thanksgiving, everyone! I'll update you on Friday if any of my special guests showed up for the feast or not...
No, I'm not going to blog about how wrong Rachel is regarding one of television's most magnificently complex serial dramas. (Forgive me if I don't take entirely seriously the television opinion of someone who I'm pretty sure owns the complete That '70s Show series on DVD, even that awful final season.)
No, I'm not going to blog about how Tim, as usual, will not follow through on anything he says he's going to do, and I will put money on it. (By the way, anyone see his weekly fantasy-football summary post for last weekend? Y'know, the same weekend where he and I went head-to-head and I crushed him like the pathetic footie-pajama-wearing boy he still is? Strange, he never wrote about it... [Also, I beat his sad panda of a girlfriend this week, too. King of the castle, king of the castle!)
No, I'm not going to blog about how even after repeated sessions of unashamed begging and pleading from yours truly, Jason still flat-out refuses to blog more than once a week. (Hell, I can't even get the rest of the editors to hit their three-blogs-a-week quota [unless you count Rachel's college football roundup, which has been commented on slightly under zero times, not counting her mom raving about the Huskers]. [Jay kay Ray Ray, I've told you a thousand times how much I love reading your boundless enthusiasm for a college football team that I could otherwise give a rat's tail about. Also, I think you should get an Alan Parsons Project tattoo.])
No, I'm not going to blog about how recent Cleveland transplant Jen thinks that after living here for less than 90 days, she has any grounds to make such a bold statement as her brazen "East Side rules, West Side droolz" entry states (I may be paraphrasing there). (Look, lady, I've lived here for a whopping 4.5 years. Obviously, I know way more than you about Cleveland. It shows in how little I know about Cleveland.)
What I am going to blog about is how I saw a story on 60 Minutes tonight about a 13-year-old boy named Rex. Rex is severely autistic, almost completely blind and can't even do something as simple as putting on his own shoes. Yet with music, he is a savant -- someone can sing a song or play him a piece on the piano just once, and he can immediately sing or play it back, note for note. His piano-playing is absolutely incredible for someone his age, and it made me well up inside knowing that this little guy has probably gone through more pain and struggles than I ever will in my life, but his brain was kind enough to let music in, and he is so much happier because of it. He found paradise.
The following piece of music isn't what you've probably grown accustomed to me recommending on this blog (that is to say I don't believe anyone with a beard and tattoos had a hand in creating it). It is, however, one of my favorite pieces of music ever. "In Paradisum" (or, in English, "into paradise") is the seventh and final movement of Gabriel Faure's Requiem, a piece I had the incredible pleasure of performing dozens of times as a 13-year-old boy soprano in a local choir. Play it right before you're about to fall asleep tonight. Your dreams will be the happiest they've been in a long time.
Last night, I braved the increasingly cold Cleveland temperatures and made my way to the Agora for the Never Sleep Again Tour featuring Hawthorne Heights, Emery, Tickle Me Pink and the Mile After. The Color Fred are also on the tour but had to drop off for a week or so due to unspecified personal issues; it was a bummer for me, because I think TCF are pretty great, and Fred's one of the best dudes ever (true story).
Unfortunately, I missed the Mile After as I had to get my friend Bridget (who is slinging merch for Hawthorne and Emery on this tour) some absurd concoction at Starbucks. (Seriously, her drink had nine words in it -- when I go in there, I just ask for "hot chocolate" and be done with it). I did have to suffer through the majority of Tickle Me Pink's set, however. TMP appear to be the latest in an increasingly long line of "schemo" bands who have absolutely no knowledge or respect for what the current emo scene was built on, and are really nothing more than an arena-rock clone who would cut off their hands to get a chance to open for Buckcherry (y'know, because there would be so much "sweet ass" backstage or something). Take, for example, the lyrics to the band's current single, "Typical":
You can play me like that It's a matter of fact You're nothing more than a typical whore And I won't be your fool anymore
Compare that to these lyrics from Braid's "(Strawberry Ann) Switzerland," one of my all-time faves:
So give me a chance and I promise I'll make it all alright Give me a chance and I promise we'll make it all worthwhile Give me a chance and I promise I can make you smile Did I make you smile?
Call me a "fag" (as Bullets N Octane once did because I condemned their website's wet T-shirt contest for backstage passes), but I am a fan of treating women with respect, and calling them "typical whores" (especially when the majority of your crowd are teenage girls) is just plain ignorant. It doesn't help the cause that the band's vocalist, Sean Kennedy, does this weird yelling thing in the chorus of that song that sounds absolutely atrocious. Woof.
Okay, I've wasted enough words on bad music. Up next were Emery, and while I think they played a bit too much of their new EP, While Broken Hearts Prevail (it's pretty good, but I didn't need to hear, like, five songs off of it), they were tight and got the crowd really moving. "Studying Politics" is still a sweet-ass jam, too.
Hawthorne Heights closed the night out with about an hour's worth of rock, and it was the first time I had seen them since Casey Calvert passed away last year. The experience was sort of surreal; I had seen so many shows by these guys back in 2004 and 2005 when they were first coming up, and got to know them pretty well, but it had been two years since I last saw them onstage and three years since we last hung out. Kinda crazy. We got to catch up before their set and they were pretty much all exactly the same as I remembered: Funny, kind-hearted Midwesterners who counted every blessing imaginable for being able to do what they do for a living.
Their set was about half new stuff from the solid Fragile Future (including "Somewhere In Between," the disc's best track) with a good amount of back catalog scattered into the setlist to please the diehards. The band even went acoustic for a pair of songs, including their tribute to Calvert, "Four Become One," and I'll be damned if it didn't tug at my heartstrings a little more than a Hawthorne Heights song affecting a 26-year-old jaded music editor should.
What really got me, though, was the following stage banter from JT Woodruff before the band ended their set. This is roughly paraphrased, as I didn't have time to write it down word for word, but I'm fairly confident that this is almost spot-on:
"All the bands are here tonight supporting new CDs. That stands for 'compact disc.' You may know them as MP3s. MP3s sound like shit; CDs sound way better. Buy the CD. And another thing: Don't steal from your favorite bands. And if you're really going to steal, don't be a pussy and do it online; there's no difference between that and walking into a Best Buy and putting the CD down your pants. So do that instead."
It was incredibly surprising to hear a band actually come out and say what most bands think but don't have the guts to speak out about. Kudos to Woodruff for laying it out there when he could've done what most bands do and encourage the downloading of their music (which, honestly, hurts everyone involved with the record -- the band, the label, the producer, you name it).
Was it weird watching Hawthorne Heights play for only a few hundred people instead of a few thousand just two years before? Yeah. Wherever the "cool kids" were last night, it wasn't at the Hawthorne Heights show, that's for sure. But you know what? Let 'em listen to Brokencyde and Millionaires. At least Hawthorne Heights have heart, and they believe in what they're doing, naysayers be damned. Are they the best band in the world? No, and I think they'd be the first people to tell you that. But do they absolutely love every minute of what they do? More than almost any other band I've ever met.
You know what album still totally, completely and utterly rules?
For as ridiculous as Blink-182 got sometimes (going from "band" to "brand" will always ruin a good thing), it's absolutely impossible to deny their massive effect on pop culture in their time together. Hell, it's been about four years since they've broken up (an epoch in an ever-morphing scene like this), and Blink are still probably the biggest band of all time to your typical AP reader.
And since we're being honest, let's all admit this, too -- nothing in the (+44) or Angels & Airwaves catalog comes close to Blink-182. While I don't particularly mind either band (I played We Don't Need To Whisper for about two months straight when it came out), I think it's fair to say we'd all trade in our (+44) and AVA CDs for one more chance to see Mark, Tom and Travis live (even though the last time I saw Blink live, with No Doubt, they were atrocious).
The point is, Mark Hoppus just blogged about reconnecting with Tom DeLonge, and it got me super-stoked on life all of a sudden. I'm rocking the above album very loudly (sorry, old lady who lives to my left and married couple with a newborn who live to my right) and imagining just what would happen if this band got back together. I think the internet would explode.
This is my favorite song off Blink-182. What's yours?
Today ruled for so many reasons. Let me list 'em off:
1. I got to go out to lunch with my friend Masa, who runs the awesome Japanese label Kick Rock Music. As well as putting out some of the best punk bands Japan currently has to offer, Kick Rock is also the Japanese home to Valencia, Four Year Strong, Every Avenue and a host of other American bands. Although we only got to spend a few hours together, it was great to catch up all about the American and Japanese punk scenes, to see where they align and where they differ. Thanks for stopping in Cleveland, Masa!
2. I got to see the always amazing Person L tonight, who made me completely giddy. They played five or six songs from Initial as well as three or four new songs, one of which was a shoutout to Fugazi. Kenny (er, sorry, Kenneth) -- you are so goddamn talented, dude. I can't wait to hear the next record. I love your band.
3. Even though I unfortunately missed Mock Orange (who were inexplicably forced to open the show, even though there was a local band -- WTF mate?), I did catch Oakland rock foursome Audrye Sessions, who were very impressive in a early-Radiohead sort of way. Plus, Shawn Harris from the Matches designed one of their T-shirts and is doing the layout for their full-length (which comes out next year). If that's not a ringing artistic endorsement, I don't know what is.
4. In the middle of this rock onslaught, my super-sweet girlfriend found a super-sweet deal on a super-sweet snowblower online and ordered me one, all via text message (what a gal, seriously). You may scoff at my excitement, but you try shoveling yourself out of a Cleveland winter sometime -- you'll be begging for this mean machine.
5. I absolutely crushed Tim "Big Haircut" Karan in his little fantasy football league (and I did it with Justin Gage on the bench!).
And that's just the tip of the ol' iceberg. Oh, did I mention that I got the Two Tongues CD from Vagrant the other day and it fucking rules? Because it does.
That was the fortune inside my cookie tonight. And while it might not be a fortune per se, it sure as heck is accurate.
Allow me to elaborate.
As you're obviously well aware, all five AP editors have blogs that we keep regularly updated (well, some of us more than others...). A few months ago, at our monthly staff meeting, our web guru Rob announced that he had the stats for the most-read blog of the previous month, and it was mine.
No big deal, right?
At the next staff meeting, the stakes got higher. Rob appropriated a gag gift we were given by Hopeless Records and turned it into the "#1 AP Blogger Trophy," to be awarded at all future staff meetings to whoever the top dog was at the time. And somehow, someway, there was an upset. Tim "I swear I have pulse" Karan stole the trophy right out from under me. I figured the reason he was late to work every morning is that he spends his mornings hitting F5 on his keyboard, refreshing his blog a couple hundred times to ensure he would beat me.
"No problem," I said to myself. I just figured I'd up the quality and quantity of my blogs, knowing good, old fashioned hard work would pay off, and it did -- I won the trophy the following month. But then, just 48 hours ago, we had our most recent staff meeting. And the difference between the hit totals on my blog versus Tim's blog was 11.
Eleven. That's it. Tim "30 And Flirty" Karan beat me by 11 measly hits.
I wanted to run this campaign on the issues and the issues alone. I didn't want to have to resort to mudslinging. But the underhanded tactics by my opponent cannot go unnoticed.
ITEM 1 I blog about the summer Olympics, and specifically, Michael Phelps. A scant few days later, Tim blogs about the exact same thing, even going so far as to use the exact same photo of Michael Phelps.
ITEM 2 In August, I wrote a bunch of haikus profiling anticipated fall releases. It was, by all accounts, a smashing success -- so much so that Tim felt the need to rip the idea off three months later to write about his sad, pathetic fantasy football league (that, yes, I am a participant in, but only because I believe in keeping your friends close and your enemies closer).
ITEM 3 Okay, I can't find an item 3. But still, whose blog would you rather read -- one written by someone who yells obscenities at cats (and probably bites their heads off once the camera is turned off)?
Or someone who loves puppies so much, he helps rescue them from kill shelters on the weekends?
The decision is simple, people. Help prevent feline decapitation and hit "reload" on my blog. Do it for America.
It's almost as if they read my mind (or my blog): Earlier this week, Jimmy Eat World announced their "Clarity X 10" tour, a 10-night trek across these great United States of ours where each night they'll play their 1999 opus Clarity from start to finish. And who was tapped to open the final three shows? Why, No Knife, of course! The very same No Knife who I saw and heard for the first time in 1999 when they opened for Braid's last show; the very same No Knife who I missed due to being sick the only other time they came anywhere near me while I was in college; the same No Knife who broke up shortly after the tour I missed.
So, yeah. I'm a little bit on the stoked side.
I have no idea if this will spawn into a full-blown reunion for them, which is why I'm not going to fuck around: Tempe, Arizona? I'm coming for you in March. I mean, what better place to see one of my all-time favorite bands play one of my all-time favorite albums from start to finish with another of my all-time favorite bands reuniting to open the show, all in the first band's hometown? It's all sorts of perfect, if you ask me, and I will be refreshing the shit out of my browser come Thursday morning in hopes to get pre-sale tickets. (Yes, it's true, even high falutin' music editors such as myself buy their concert tickets once in a while.)
Oh, yeah, I'm also definitely gonna hit up that Chicago show on Feb. 28, too -- it's at the Metro, which is the same venue I first saw Jimmy Eat World at over seven years ago, with Reuben's Accomplice opening. And guess who's opening the Chicago show for this tour, too? Reuben's fucking Accomplice! (Jim Adkins, stop reading my diary already, this is getting creepy!)
I'm really, really hoping Jimmy Eat World pull out all the stops for this thing. Performing everything from Clarity will require more than just four dudes and a few guitars. So Jim, if you are reading this, please take note:
1. Please sing all the words to "Your New Aesthetic." Every time I've seen you play this song live, you always end up dropping out segments of it, and it's wholly frustrating. 2. Please bring along a string section so you can properly capture the majesty of "For Me This Is Heaven." When those violins build before the last chorus (y'know, the "an Angel for me" part), it's goosebump city. 3. Please, please, please play all 16:11 minutes of "Goodbye Sky Harbor." The "rock-out" version you've been doing for the better part of a decade is fine normally, but for these shows, it would be incredible to see you and the guys properly attempt the vocal loops and electronics. 4. For your shows with No Knife, please come out and sing your part on their song, "Charming," as I've always wanted to see that -- and the below video from 2001 doesn't nearly do the part justice:
And hell, while I'm posting No Knife videos, check the following out so you can see how awesome this band was and get pumped for their return to music (please please please, return to music). This is the video for "The Red Bedroom," off 2002's Riot For Romance!:
This is "Flechette," off the same album (ignore the first 30 seconds):
There's not a lot of live footage of No Knife on YouTube (the curse of primarily being a band prior to 2005), but here's a killer clip from 2001 of the band performing "Mission Control" off 1999's absolutely brilliant Fire In The City Of The Automatons:
Okay, so I'll be the first to admit this blog is hella unorganized. So allow me to sum it up: Clarity rules, No Knife rules, this tour is gonna rule, and I'll see you in Tempe.
Well, there's no doubt about it: I have Fest AIDS.
For those unfamiliar with the term, it was coined on the Fest's message board a few years back to sum up both the physical and psychological ailments many Fest attendees go through after the event comes to a close. It's sorta like Gulf War syndrome, only without the war. And I've definitely succumbed to it this week.
Normally, I can tough out being sick (I haven't been to the doctor in five or six years, I believe -- maybe even longer), but this week's been misery on me, just because my body has decided to make me hack up a lung every 20 minutes or so, without fail. I've spat out enough mucus to make a 2/3 scale model of Tim Karan (and the amazing thing is, my phlegm statue looks healthier than the real thing).
But what really grinds my gears about being sick is missing shows I'd otherwise be happily attending with friends. This past week alone, my Fest AIDS caused me to miss the Academy Is.../We The Kings on Wednesday, Portugal. The Man on Thursday, 3OH!3 on Saturday and In Flames/Gojira tonight. Luckily, I did manage to get out and see A Wilhelm Scream and Polar Bear Club earlier this week, only because I missed both bands at the Fest and felt it was my obligation as a fat bearded dude to be in attendance. But of course, once I got home, my body gave me the one-finger salute and I've been miserable ever since.
This got me thinking: What's the best show you've ever had to miss due to illness? There's two that jump out in my mind from college; I remember having to miss both Bad Religion/Less Than Jake/Hot Water Music and Cursive/No Knife/Small Brown Bike/The Ghost due to a pretty bad fever (and the fact that the shows were in Chicago, which at the time was over three hours away). I would've given anything to be at either of those shows (especially the latter -- I mean, just look at that lineup!).
I think my Fest weekend can best be summed up in the following nonsensical video:
In other news, I'm interviewing Rivers Cuomo in a shade under two hours about the upcoming second volume of his Alone: The Home Recordings Of Rivers Cuomo series. Quick, post questions if you have any!
PS: GO VOTE! I did this morning and I feel great because of it. Democracy rules!
Holy fuck, the Fest has been totally awesome thus far. Highlights include:
-Rehasher dressing up as the Ghostbusters, complete with jumpsuits that said "I ain't afraid of no Fest" -Less Than Jake dressing up as cops and throwing donuts at the audience (and JR even handed me one -- it was delicious) -Strike Anywhere setting a world record for "most stage divers in a 40-minute set" on Friday night (seriously, it was an ungodly amount) -Paint It Black completely shattering said record on Saturday in under 30 minutes (I think every person at the Fest stagedove during their set except me -- and hell, I might have to review the videotape, maybe I did, too [no, I didn't, I don't trust people to catch my big butt]) -Speaking of Paint It Black, they attempted to play a parking lot show Friday night after the Bouncing Souls ended, and after a good 500+ people gathered around the UHaul they were standing in, the generator blew after literally two seconds of music. It was kind of funny. Of course, that didn't stop people from stagediving into the crowd off the top of said UHaul. Totally awesome. I have it all on video, and expect to see it in our Fest photo/video recap next week. -Atom reunited with the Package for a killer greatest-hits set, including my personal favorite, "Happy Birthday Ralph." -Andrew Jackson Jihad killed it. Absolutely killed it. -So did Pegasuses-XL. Wow, seriously. Great band. -Mose Giganticus is probably the best new band I've seen this weekend. Check these dudes out; it's heavy-as-shit stoner metal/rock with a keytar. For real. -I ended up onstage last night playing drums for Bomb The Music Industry! on "493 Ruth" and "Unlimited Breadsticks, Soup And Salad Days" in front of about a gajillion people, and it was the most fun I've had in a very, very long time. Oh, I'm also left-handed, but the drums were set up right-handed, so it was definitely interesting to say the least. I hope video surfaces on the ol' YouTube eventually.
In other news, I've consumed no less than seven Arizona Fruit Punch tall cans since Thursday night. That's over 150 oz. of fruit punch. I think I might have a drinking problem.
Okay, day three is about to begin. Minus The Bear tonight -- so stoked!
