Frequent Spins (2010.1)

This year I thought I'd try something new with Frequent Spins. Since this is really about recommending new music and hoping that you'll take the time to check out some of my suggestions for yourselves, I've decided that I'm going to provide links to where you can preview each of the albums I'm highlighting. Lala will most likely be my fall-back source, but since that site only allows you to listen to each song once before making some kind of purchase, I'll be favoring links to places that don't have such restrictions.

Either way, I may be writing a little less and just letting you focus on the music. With that in mind, I'll be trying to direct you to the best current alternative for checking out the new releases that I'm enjoying most.

Eels - End Times
I thought that Two Gallants' self-titled release in 2007 was the ultimate breakup album, until Mark Oliver Everett's latest—which apparently draws on his own recent experience—came along. It's also proof that I can still enjoy this type of music despite being happy with my own love life.

Laura Veirs - July Flame
I guess I would call this the least frequently spun of this group, but it's been well-received by critics and fans alike. So, although it hasn't grabbed me as hard as the others on this list, it's definitely worth spending a little time to decide for yourself.

Midlake - The Courage of Others
Although I really like it, I would have to consider this album a bit of a disappointment. Perhaps my expectations were too high, but that's what happens when a band makes an almost perfect record, as The Trials of Van Occupanther was to me. Still, I will say that The Courage of Others seems to be growing on me with each subsequent listen, so I may eventually change my tune.




Spoon - Transference
Whether you like this album or not may depend on which version of Spoon you're a fan of: the stripped down outfit that produced their earlier work, or the bigger, slightly more polished sound of their last two records, Gimme Fiction and Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga. To me, Transference seems like a bit of a return to those earlier days, and an impressive one at that.

Vampire Weekend - Contra
Sometimes I just have a feeling that a band is going to be a "one shot deal" in terms of my interest in them. When it comes to Vampire Weekend, that's what I thought, but it appears I was wrong, as this one is even better—perhaps significantly so—than their debut.

Detroit Rock City

This is part three of the Summer of '04 series, chronicling my first serious baseball road trip.

Sunday, June 13
The morning drive from Cleveland to Detroit is fairly easy. The musical highlight is Uncle Tupelo's Anodyne, listened to between Cleveland and Toledo.

At Comerica Park, I give $20 to the parking attendant and drive away, forgetting my change. He points this out to me, and gives me back $10 a few minutes later. I then interact with a bitchy Subway worker who's wearing a Celtics jacket.

Subway, in this case, is in reference to the fast food restaurant and not an underground train.

At the park...the stadium has impressive monuments to Tigers legends: Willie Horton, Ty Cobb, Charlie Gehringer, Hank Greenberg, Hal Newhouser, Al Kaline. Willie Horton?

It's Spiderman day at the ballpark.

I have no idea what Spiderman day was all about, and I'm pretty sure the brevity of my note was intended to mean that there really was nothing at all to say about it.

I like the out-of-town scoreboard here better than at the Jake. It's more old school, but you get to see all the scores at once, rather than a rotating three at a time. They do a good job at updating the pitchers' numbers as well.

One of my highlights here is scoreboard watching of the Yankees game, as they score two in the 9th to erase a 2-0 deficit. The score is 2-2 in the 10th when the Tigers-Marlins game ends, so I have to wait until later to find out that the Padres score three in the top of 12th, but the Yankees counter with four in the bottom for a 6-5 win. Due to good updating of pitchers' numbers, I know that David Wells pitches seven, Otsuka the 8th and Hoffman the 9th for San Diego. For the Yankees, it's Vazquez for eight, with Tom Gordon pitching at least the 9th.

There's an abundance of beer stands here, but no microbrews. I do find 32 oz. drafts for $8.50, so I order a Labatt's.

I'm impressed that the crowd doesn't yell "balk" when Dontrelle Willis turns and fakes a pickoff throw to second. The supposedly smarter fans in Boston would have. Of course, it's possible that the Detroit fans aren't actually paying attention.

I think Esteban Yan is following me. How many teams have I seen him pitch for in the past two years? As he warms up, the P.A. blares, "I've been working real hard and I'm tryin' to find a job, but it just keeps getting tougher every day," from Steve Miller's "Rock 'n Me." It's quite fitting.

From 2002-2004, Yan played for four different teams (Tampa Bay, Texas, St. Louis, Detroit). I'm sure I had previously seen him pitch for Tampa Bay, and probably either or both of Texas and St. Louis prior to this. Still, I have a slight tendency to exaggerate.
 
Detroit sports talk radio seems to think the Pistons have the NBA Finals locked up, even though they're only leading the series 2-1.

They turned out to be right.

There's an unbelievable storm as I'm driving south from Toledo towards Dayton...rain so hard I can't see, brutal winds, lightning. I pull over on an exit ramp to wait it out and watch the lightning. I wish I could enjoy the show, but I'm a little nervous, not knowing what to do. Maybe I'll just get a room, as it's 7:30 already, and I don't have to get to St. Louis until Tuesday night. I guess I should have stayed in Detroit and tried to get tickets for game four of the NBA Finals.

I spend the night in Lima, Ohio. I try to buy some beer to drink in my room and watch the Red Sox-Dodgers game and the NBA Finals, but there are no Sunday beer sales in Ohio. I go to a local dive bar called Sportscaster, but the cable is out, and eventually the power goes out too. I drink cans of Rolling Rock, for $1.75 each, and witness two drunk, fat, local women call each other "bitch" for about a half hour. The guy sitting next to me, who is missing a few visible teeth, including one of his front two, says this is the nightly entertainment in this place.

On Deck: Meet Me in St. Louis, Louis

Anders Parker @ Club Passim

This past fall marked ten years for me living in Cambridge and Somerville, yet last night was only the second or third time I've visited Club Passim. That's probably at least in part due to the fact that, up until about a year ago when they started serving local offerings from Cambridge Brewing Company, it was a dry venue.

The occasion of my return to Passim wasn't the addition of craft beer to their menu, but instead was Anders Parker's debut at the small Harvard Square music venue. Anders was opening for popular New England singer-songwriter Jeffrey Foucault, who happens to be married to Kris Delmhorst, an even more recognizable name in the Boston folk scene. So, most of the capacity crowd of 100+ fans—present company excluded—were not necessarily there to see Anders, but he was extremely well received.

The thing that impressed me the most about last night's crowd was that they actually listened quietly and attentively to each and every song played by both artists. I honestly thought I would never again experience such a phenomenon. In fact, it was just this past December, when KJ and I attended the Boston Pops' holiday performance, that I was dismayed by the fact that not even that crowd was capable of shutting up and listening.

Anders' set was excellent, with the highlights being an acoustic version of "Song," from his former band Varnaline's swan song, Songs in a Northern Key, and a stirring rendition of "Horses Running Over the Hills," from his latest, Skyscraper Crow. I couldn't help but feel that the rest of the crowd was equally moved by the latter performance.

This, of course, reminds me that I'm way overdue in putting together my 2009 compilation. Be patient, though, as there is good reason for its delay, as many of you are well aware. I'm targeting late March for its completion and distribution, in fact.

Last night's show also made me realize that playing to the clientele and type of venue that Club Passim has to offer is a great career move for Anders. During a backstage conversation I had with Jeff, he told me that Anders was looking to get away from the dingy indie rock club scene when the two met. So, in that respect, it seems that meeting Foucault a few years ago in Newcastle, England has been a significant boon to Parker's career. Hopefully, an upcoming collaboration with Son Volt's Jay Farrar, My Morning Jacket's Jim James, and Centro-Matic's Will Johnson, will help him to continue to increase his profile.

Cleveland Rocks

This is part two of the Summer of '04 series, chronicling my first serious baseball road trip.

Saturday, June 12 (Cont'd)
The beer selection here includes mostly the standard choices, with the exception of one concession stand called "Beers of the World," which pretty much consists of the same old domestic crap plus Heineken and three Great Lakes offerings.

Honestly, the concept doesn't excite me anyway, as I prefer microbrewed American beer. But, I still think it's lame when one run-of-the-mill imported beer and a few obscure local brews add up to something called "Beers of the World."

My overall impression of Jacobs Field is that it's a nice park, but doesn't quite compare to the atmosphere of Pac-Bell or the retro feel of Camden Yards.

Later on the trip, I would visit a park that would join the ranks of my favorites.

Griffey has a rough night. He strikes out twice and goes 0-for-4 with an intentional walk. Maybe I'll have a shot at seeing his 500th in Cincinnati on Thursday. Otherwise, the game is exciting. Todd Van Poppel's three-inning perfect game is broken up by a Matt Lawton leadoff homer in the 4th. The Reds build a 5-1 lead, but Cleveland comes from behind, scoring two in the 7th and four in the 8th, the latter rally keyed by Coco Crisp's three-run double.

Down 8-5, Cincinnati scores two in the 9th, but Jose Jimenez is finally able to close it out. Some shaky defense by the Reds in the 8th contributes to their downfall: Griffey fails to call D'Angelo Jimenez off on a shallow fly to center; Jimenez tries to get a force out at second when he should have made the play to first, although the replay shows the runner was out. I was actually surprised at the time that there was no argument.

Yes, there were two Jimenez's who played critical roles in this game.
Indians fans seem genuinely excited about the team. The excitement appears to be warranted. They have a lot of good young position players (although not much power), and a few good young arms. But, they have a terrible bullpen, despite getting the job done tonight. Another observation about the fans is that they actually wait until the end of the national anthem before they start clapping.

For some reason, it's always been a pet peeve of mine that fans start clapping before the song is actually over, although I've sometimes wondered if it's "the land of the free" that they're applauding.

The Jake's out-of-town scoreboard gives the inning (top or bottom), runners on base, and batter up, but not the number of outs, and only shows three games at once. I'm not impressed.

It was on this trip that I developed my fascination for out-of-town scoreboards, probably because the technology had reached the point where we could expect a lot more than score and inning updates. The new Busch Stadium is the gold standard in this category, as far as I'm concerned.

On Deck: Detroit Rock City

Look Out Cleveland

This begins the Summer of '04 series, chronicling my first serious baseball road trip. The italicized passages are notes that I've added after the fact. The rest is taken word-for-word, or paraphrased from, the journal I kept on this trip.

Friday, June 11
Today is the day...the beginning of my five-ballparks-in-seven-days tour of the Midwest. Unfortunately, I suffered a slight setback Wednesday night when I sprained my right foot sliding into third base during a softball game. Right now, I'm on crutches, but I've healed so quickly thus far that I doubt I'll need them for long.

Interestingly enough, when I hurt my foot/ankle during the game, I walked it off and remained in the game, playing the outfield, in fact. Later that night, after a few post-game drinks at the bar, I was limping a little, but that paled in comparison to when I woke up in the middle of the night writhing in pain.

The following morning, I called SMB, my teammate, co-worker, neighbor, and closest member of my urban family, who then drove me to the hospital. Later, when I informed the emergency room doctor of the trip I had planned, he essentially said to me that he probably should tell me not to go, but that if he were me, he'd still make the trip.

My first game is tomorrow night in Cleveland. They're playing Cincinnati, and Ken Griffey Jr. is two home runs shy of 500 for his career. Today, my goal is to drive across Massachusetts and upstate New York and spend the night near Rochester.

Later...after a productive day of driving (almost 400 miles), I make it to the vicinity of Rochester and find a motel room near Victor, New York. While driving, I was thinking about the possibility of adding a sixth game to my schedule. Unfortunately, there are no games in Milwaukee or Chicago on Monday—my open day between Detroit and St. Louis—so Philadelphia next Saturday appears to be my only real option.

Today's musical highlight was Matthew Ryan's Mayday. I haven't listened to this one in a while, but I still love it, and it's an excellent selection for a rural road trip. I watch SportsCenter from my motel room, but fall asleep while the Reds game is in extra innings, with Griffey still stuck on 498.

Saturday, June 12
I'm on the road from Victor to Cleveland for tonight's Reds-Indians game. I'm torn between rooting for Junior to hit two home runs or none, since I'll be seeing him again in Cincinnati next Thursday.

I make great time on Saturday, and arrive at my motel in the western suburbs of Cleveland—giving me a bit of a head start on tomorrow's driving—about five hours before game time. It's also worth noting that, by this point, I'd abandoned the use of the crutches. Although that's in part due to quick healing, it's also because getting in and out of the car while hopping on one foot is a royal pain in the ass.

Also of interest, although not necessarily in a good way, is that I ran the New York City Marathon twice in the four years prior to the injury. I don't think I've run any longer than five miles at one time since. On the upside (sort of), as I've felt my knees deteriorate in recent years, I realize that being forced to curtail, and eventually give up, running was probably my body's built-in defense mechanism.

I arrive at Jacobs Field a few hours early, so I head to a nearby sports bar called Alice Cooper'stown. I try the Eliot Ness from Great Lakes Brewing Company. I'm told it's a pale ale, but it seems more like a Killian's clone. For my next beer, I check out Alice's Poison Amber, which may or may not be brewed on the premises. It sucks also, reminding me of a poor man's Sam Adams, which is barely an upgrade over Killian's.

Honestly, I'm not sure why I was under the impression that I was going to discover good local brews in the Midwest. But, while I was quite critical of the beer selection, I was pleased with the fact that Cleveland is a city whose baseball stadium resides in the midst of a fairly happening downtown atmosphere. Most other cities I've visited on my two major ballpark trips can't make this claim, with Pittsburgh being the one exception that comes to mind.

There are lots of Reds fans in and around the park, which I guess isn't much of a surprise. It turns out that tonight is Omar Vizquel & Dave Concepcion Bobblehead Night. Concepcion is present to honor Vizquel during a pre-game tribute celebrating the fact that he's recently reached two significant milestones. Vizquel accumulated his 2,000th hit and played in his 2,000th game this year, and he's quite pleased that Concepcion, his boyhood idol and fellow Venezuelan, is on hand to take part in the ceremony.

On Deck: Cleveland Rocks