In what was penciled in as my 25th show, I arrived in Chicago in high anticipations, with the same 3.0 cautious attitude not to self-hype the show too much for fears of a great letdown. After all, I think I had witnessed more letdowns and shows that started out as fire, smoldered into setbreak (see 2011-2012 Alpine Valley) and officially fizzled out with a mid-second set "Wading," "Bug," or "Character Zero."
Post-show view from the bridge right outside our hotel (to the left)
No such letdown in Chicago this night. In what was surely the strongest 3.0 Phish show I've witnessed, and possibly one of the top 5 Phish shows I've ever seen, there was just that intangible Phishy element in the air this Sunday night. Perhaps the band finally snapped from a summer tour plagued with immense weather and rain problems, which had also caused the band to reschedule a show in Toronto, suspend the first Chicago show after an hour on Friday, and played a special, "make-up" 3-set show on Saturday, also under storm clouds. There was a 50% chance of storms on Sunday night, which ended up being an immense miscalculation.
Phish started out the show right; as dark clouds mounted to the north, Trey ripped into the beginning of "Dinner and a Movie," which was my first of three firsts of the evening. Starting out the show with a first-timer turned out to be a great omen. Like the first notes tinkling from Trey's guitar to begin the show, he abruptly shifted into "AC/DC Bag," which, although it conformed to the normal sub 7-minute rendition it has in the last few years, it simply ripped. Trey was hitting the right notes and made this Bag into a particularly fun one to really springboard the show from an average beginning to a notable one. The tone continued after that, with a near flawless "Maze," with Trey remaining tight, focused, and on-point, and a "Mound," which was another first for me, although it was a rather rough attempt. A well-played "Funky Bitch" followed, which concluded what I'd refer to as the "normal part of the show."
Page hits literally every key in his arsenal during the intro to "Bathtub Gin," as the clouds continue to threaten the show.
The clouds to the north crept closer and finally opened during "Bathtub Gin." The band's intensity picked up immensely as the rains intensified; a drizzle led to a smattering of huge rain drops as the Gin jam elevated, and by the end of the song, phanners everywhere were engulfed in huge, heavy drops of torrential downpour. The band, obviously used to inclement weather by this point of the tour, shrugged it off and continued the set with "Wilson" and an apropos "Water In the Sky." The rain continued to pour, and after becoming bone-soaked, the opening piano notes to "Water In the Sky" elicited a laugh. At that point, it's all one could have done. There was no cover, no shelter, no respite from the downpour.
Right before it started raining, Bathtub Gin.
Unbelievably, the downpour actually intensified during "Water In the Sky" which forced us to seek cover, somewhere. Luckily, the back of the reserved seating area provided us, and many others, with about 7 feet of cover from the blowing, whipping rain. We could barely hear the Boogie On through the stands and roar of the rain, and heard that the band was taking a break until the rain let up. It was just one of those moments when you couldn't do anything except laugh it off -- everyone was stuck on the island, far from cover, hotels, and houses. My only concern was my cell phone, as I was negligent enough to forget a plastic baggie to protect my electronics from the elements. Luckily, all phones survived, but we might have been in trouble if we hadn't found our secret, back-of-stands dry spot.
The setbreak gave us the opportunity to collect ourselves and catch up and meet other phans. I talked with one guy who had been on the entire tour, and he upheld my statement that I felt the band was playing very well lately. Another was amazed that I happened to have a safety pin, which saved the day. For such a bummer of a situation (and not just the night -- an entire TOUR plagued by weather issues), it was such great vibes from everyone hanging out, waiting for the rain to cease, and Phish to return.
Lines for bathrooms were out of control, especially during the soaking setbreak, so phanners took matters into their own hands.
After about 45 more minutes of downpour (it rained SO HARD), the skies finally relented, the crew dried the stage and we were treated to a superb second set. Phish came out and opened with Energy, a newer tune, which would usually draw a groan or a "meh" of indifference from me, but with spirits high from a unique setbreak and more music to come, it was a welcome set II opener. The jam blossomed to a few nice themes from Trey before deconstructing into the basslines of Ghost. I'd say this was a true segue and not one of the cop-out "drops" that barely necessitates a ">" on the setlist.
Look...the storm's gone.
The Ghost jam immediately took off and soared to beautiful heights, and made me think again that "Wow, this band is really locked in and playing well right now." The jam crested and landed peacefully in Trey's opening noodling to Lizards, an always welcome addition to any show I'm at. This version was particularly peppy and well-played; the band was definitely feeding off the rainstorm vibes and the energy that the phans delivered back to the stage. I was already pretty content with the show upon hearing the first few notes of Lizards.
My best iPhone pic of the night: The Lizards.
Oom pa pa Oom pa pa Oom pa pa Oom PA PAAAAAA! It's the whackiest of whacky Phish that you just never expect to hear at a show, but after the last two days, cancelled sets, crappy weather, and tonight's onslaught of rain, Phish must have decided to let it all out of the bag. This "Harpua" will notoriously go down as one of Phish's weirder Harpuas, but I loved it. Calling the comedy troupe of Chicago's Second City in to provide "their own" Poster Nutbag (The Right Way) story, it felt like an amazing coincidence at the time with something that just wasn't quite right. Afterwards, hearing that it was all planned out, of course, made sense, and there were clues along the way that indicated shenanigans, but at the time, it was difficult to determine truth from fabrication. My first Harpua, in all its glory, was not flawless, but it was entertaining and was simply perfect, considering the night. With Harpua as the cherry-on-top, the opening notes of "Run Like an Antelope" carried the second set away, in my mind, into immortally legendary status. I was nervous that they'd come out and encore with "Velvet Sea," or "Waste," perhaps the two slow ballads that would have possibly reduced the show's credibility in my eyes, as Phish is notorious for laying egg encores after immensely hot sets, but I was happy enough with a rip-roaring sing-a-long "Character Zero."
The hotel worked out, and was perfectly nice and swanky. The amphitheater was nice, and I'd never do another show there again without having reserved seats. (Phantasy Tour's amended seating charts had the floor mislabeled as "Ritz Carlton" -- when really it should have been the reserved seating stands. We did this show as right as we could, and it ended up being a legendary show that will forever make me question whether a 3.0 show can truly crack my top-5 shows list, mostly consisting of shows from 98, 99, and 00.
Yeah Yeah it only took me the literal better half of 2013 to embark on my first blog post of the year. Phew. Welcome back, et cetera and so forth.
Summer's been rapidly escalating in heat and tempo and as I sat down to a calendar tonight, after being away from "home" and in Milwaukee for the past 5 days, that I won't be back to what I call home again for perhaps upwards of three weeks. It feels so exciting to finally get on with the summer I daydreamed about during the long, long, long and crappy months of March and April this past spring, when it was 35 and cloudy for about 73 days straight. In two weeks, Paul McCartney finally comes to Milwaukee, the big Pearl Jam/Phish weekend in Chicago is nearly after that, and the much-awaited and much-anticipated Justin Timberlake/JAY-Z show at Soldier field after the three-night Phish run. Throw in some Brewers games, disc golfing, weddings, and oh yeah, a Chuck Klosterman book signing in Milwaukee, and I'm already looking at the month of August. EEP. August means one thing...back to school.
I'd really like to try to keep up with reviewing and whatnot, but in case I can't get to it, for historical documentation purposes...here is what I've been up to the past two weeks:
June 26: Yeah Yeah Yeahs/Diplo, Summerfest
June 28: Matt & Kim, Summerfest (Cake)
July 3: MGMT, Summerfest
July 7: Hank Aaron bobble head day, Brewers lose a heartbreaker 2-1 to the NY Mets (Apu's favorite squadron). It was 90 degrees and stagnant as all get out, Miller Park was a sweatbox.
There, I at least got the last review done already. Unfortunately...there's not much more to say about the Brewers' season than that.
Phew. Here I go, it's gonna be a wild ride the next three weeks.
Paul McCartney, Miller Park, July 16
Pearl Jam(?) Wrigley Field, Phish (?), First Merit Amphitheater, Chicago, July 19
Phish (?), First Merit Amphitheater, Chicago, July 20
Phish, First Merit Amphitheater, Chicago, July 21
Justin Timberlake/Jay-Z, Soldier Field, July 22
Lollapalooza, Grant Park, Chicago Aug 2-3-4
Among many "best ever" New Year's memories, I think this might be the capper on the perfect night ever, 12-31-02. Happy 10 Year anniversary to one of the best, unmatchable nights of my life!
Yes, I know. It's been out for awhile. And I loved it then. But I had to delve in deeper, like all things I enjoy in life, to a point where it fully consumes my life for a few days. At this point, I'm pretty sure I'll only be drinking Ciroc vodka for the prolonged future.
The commercial features Diddy, of course, Michael K. Williams ("OMAR" from The Wire fame, possibly the best character ever on the best television show ever), Aaron Paul (Jesse from Breaking Bad, just about equally as great as Omar), Frank Vincent (Philly from Sopranos fame, although I think I would have preferred Pauly or Silvio) and a slew of other gorgeous models and popular actors getting sloshed baller-style in Vegas to the backdrop of "Luck Be a Lady" by Frank Sinatra. It's possibly the best concept for an alcohol advertisement ever, edging out Budweiser's "WAAAZZZZAAAAPPP?" guys by a nose.
The 30-second spot:
The full 3-minute mini-movie:
And last but CERTAINLY not least, a 3-minute mini-movie Smooth-off featuring Diddy and Aziz Ansari.
Ciroc, cheers to you for some great advertising. I feel like I owe it to you to drink your product now.
UPDATE:
Check out this sweet interview with Michael K. Williams about the shooting of the commercial. I mean, dude hangs with Nas, Maxwell and French Montana, and apparently some dude named "Berdietz," woopty-wooooo. This story almost feels like a "Chappelle's Show True Story" with Charlie Murphy.
Apparently, in reaction to the Democrats' resolution to re-adopt the word "God" within their Pledge of Allegiance at the DNC which ellicited 'boos' (not boo-urns) from some of the crowd, FOX News was playing R.E.M.'s smash-80's hit "Losing My Religion" during outros to commercial breaks on Thursday night.
R.E.M. rightfully demanded that FOX News cease and desist using its song, saying, "We have little or no respect for their puff adder brand of reportage. Our music does not belong there."
Conversely, and predictably, FOX fired back at R.E.M. with some complete bullshit reasoning that pretty much has earned them the dreadful reputation they already have. "FOX News Channel's use of an R.E.M. song during Thursday's edition of Fox & Friends was in full accordance with its license agreements with all appropriate parties. Nevertheless, we're always flattered to have this much attention for a song selection and we have R.E.M. was able to satisfy their publicity fix."
Newsflash, FOX News. Actually, there are a few. 1) R.E.M. is huge. HUGE. They don't need the help of FOX News to bolster their number of records sold or to create publicity. 2) R.E.M. doesn't formally exist as a playing or touring band anymore. Again, why would they want publicity? They hung it up a year ago, and have no plans to return to creating new music. 3) Shame on you, again, FOX News, for inserting your political and religious messages into your coverage that is supposedly "Fair and Balanced." Seriously.
My "big trip" of the summer was a disc golfing junket in High Bridge, Wisconsin. Way up there by Ashland, the High Bridge recreational complex, or compound or something, housed 11 courses after taking hybrid/mixed courses into account. My friend Dan and I were determined to play as many holes, competitively, as possible. Although the initial over/under was 232.5 holes, it was adjusted to 200 after the first day.
We hit 201 holes for the three-day stretch, including having played every course (except Bear) multiple times, including Gold ("You've Got Gold!") and Granite Ridge by foot and by cart. (It was much more enjoyable by cart, which also marked the first time I've ever disced with a golf cart. Fun.) Although we played 201 holes, I only have scores for 10 of those 11 rounds. (11 x 18 is still only 198 holes, although the "Blueberry" course, from which our third round I'm missing scores, had a "bonus" 19th hole leading us back to our cabin. 198 + 3 bonus holes = 201, bitches.) (Note: all courses and holes played as Par 4s.)
SteveDan
Wood1: -6 Wood1: -10
Blueberry1: -7 Blueberry1: -7
Gold1: +13 Gold1: +10
Wood2: -12* Wood2: -8
Granite Ridge1: E Granite Ridge1: +6
Granite Ridge2: -5 Granite Ridge2: +1
Gold2: +6 Gold2: +10
Wood3: -9 Wood3: -11
Wood4: -5 Wood4: -12*
Blueberry2: -7 Blueberry2: -2
-------------------- ------------------------
-32 -23
*-denotes low personal and overall scores of the weekend
We survived on burgers, dogs, and a steak, but without forks. Yup, steaks on a knife. The campfires were enjoyable though, in addition to general wilderness time. Pretty chill vibes all around.
Everything was rustic, including the overall scoreboard.
There were lots of crazy holes -- rock outcroppings and treacherous turns and curves. The courses were extremely well maintained and groomed.
A sign on one of the hybrid courses. Blueberry combined with some Granite Ridge holes to make the "Blueridge" course. We never found the "Blueberry Kush" course though.
Highbridge Hills. Do it.
This was our cabin. Ghetto couch on the porch, campfire, inside breakfast table, fridge, stove, and inflatable matresses and one bed. It was rustic, even a tad dirty, so I'd prepare a little better for next time. Overall though, it got the job done and housed us for 2 nights.
The basket that inspired the controversial "3-and-out" argument. Was it called? Mark it 8? These were definitely league games.
The scenery was spectacular.
Hole #2 on Blueberry. The hole was past the tractor, up on top of that rock outcropping. Much longer than it looked. Solid birdie hole, though.
I just finished my fifth book of the summer. (Three more to go to attain that ever-dorky goal of having read eight books this summer.) I decided that, after a raunchy trilogy and new young adult book, it was time for a classic with a little more depth.
I liked how Capote beautifully presented the scene, the case, and the murder. I can easily see how film-makers adapted this into a film. (And apparently I have seen this movie, although I can't recall much about it, other than Phillip Seymour Hoffman played Truman Capote.) I ended up enjoying the introduction and Clutter family so much that I didn't want their murder to come.
Capote also nicely presents the criminal perspective, although the detail is a little too specific and in-depth for me. I think that their ensuing voyage post-murder is important, but a lot of other side-facts and back-stories are not. I even sympathize here that Capote is trying to really develop the personality of the murderers -- it's necessary to go deep into detail. But some of the factoids and anecdotes still seemed superfluous and expendable.
Not that Death Row.
One other gripe. The ending. In the same fashion as Capote went into detail about the murderers' lives, as went ensuing descriptions of other death row inmates. (That's deaTH row, not DeaF Row, for clarity's sake.) Capote described of the crimes and rationales of other inmates for about 30 pages too long before finally wrapping up the horrifying story.
Read it if you have a little bit of time on your hands -- it's a dense read. Only 320-ish pages, but extremely detail-laden and dialogue is used more sparingly than paraphrasing with a dialect. Good for vacations, reading by the pool, extremely hot summers.
Okay, I think I'm ready to talk about these shows.
To a non-Phish fan, or even a casual Phish fan, I'm sure these shows were fun. I enjoyed a few moments of them, here and there. But to someone who has seen this band a lot (and I consider myself a borderline fan of that department -- these shows were my 23rd and 24th times seeing Phish), these shows were a let-down before they even happened.
The band played two shows at Verizon Wireless, no, First Bank, no...ummm... screw it, Deer Creek in Indianapolis prior to Alpine Valley. And they were some of the choicest setlists the band has laid down, in my opinion, since 1999 or 2000. Bust-outs of old-school Phish originals (McGrupp, Tela, Sanity, and David Bowie, which was first on my "gotta have it" list this year) and ultra-rare cover songs like Velvet Underground's Cool It Down AND Sweet Jane (only the second time played each, and first since Halloween 1998), and the ultimate knife in the back, Blues Image's Ride Captain Ride, which I've been quietly chasing since 1998, at Deer Creek actually had me considering that I should sell my tickets to the first night at Alpine Valley. Typically, when Phish throws down some magic, the next show is a phone-in. While I wouldn't call either Alpine Valley show a phoned-in show, there's just no way that they could have been even comparable to the Deer Creek shows. I mean, I'm still steaming over Ride Captain Ride...I've missed it by one show at least two or three times now, and even missed it a few times at shows I should have been at, but didn't attend for whatever reason.
That all being said, the shows were still decently fun. They played a few originals that I was still excited to hear, like The Sloth, Reba, Runaway Jim, 2001, Maze, a cover of Talking Heads' Crosseyed and Painless, Let it Loose by the Rolling Stones, and, perhaps the highlight of the two shows, the 1-2 opening punch of Bob Marley's Soul Shakedown Party and Velvet Underground's Lonesome Cowboy Bill on Sunday night. It's quite possible that they'll never play Lonesome Cowboy Bill again, as, like the VU covers at Deer Creek, it hadn't been played since it's original bust-out on 10/31/98.
Beyond the aforementioned original and cover-song highlights, the Alpine Valley shows were average at best, unfortunately. The critical side of my mind gets disappointed when I think about it, but after some reasoning and self-condolences, I tell that critical voice to shut the fuck up and just enjoy the shows for what they are -- a few nights to kick back with good friends, old acquaintences, and crunchy, hetty jamz.
(Note: this was originally penned on June 28, and not finished until Mid-July.)
The title isn't meant to imply that we're discussing my commentary in this post...I want to bring attention to the sheer brilliance of the call brought on by perhaps my favorite announcers of any sport, ever: Adrian Healey and Ian Darke.
That's not to say that any of the other worldly futbol announcers aren't as good. They're all good. Listening to the call of a Euro 2012 match, or any major match, is so.damn.enjoyable.
These guys not only know what they're talking about. They're natural linguists. In the commentator bios I found, I discovered that all of them are at least bilingual. Then again, I suppose that in England or anywhere else in Europe, it's common to classify yourself as multilingual. Fact: people who speak more languages have a more firm grasp on vocabulary, and generally kick ass at speaking and describing things. Toss in an English accent, and I'm really, really starting to hate Phil Simms.
I also love the terminology used for sports that I have never heard in any other arena. Being "unlucky" is the term for banking one off the crossbar, or suffering a foul without gaining anything for it. In baseball, a homerun is "robbed" from a hitter -- there is no luck involved. Certainly no luck in American football -- a kicker who misses a 45-yard field goal to put the team ahead as the clock expires is not "unlucky" -- he is a scape goat for the team's failure to dominate, and thusly shamed forever. (See: Martin Gramatica) In basketball, you're layin' bricks from 3-Point Land, but you're certainly not "unlucky." Perhaps you could actually be unlucky in curling, but that's about the only instance I could think of.
They also seem to discuss the individuals' decisions much more than, say, the NFL or MLB. European futbol fans seem more apt to blame, and in some instances, crucify players for a single poor decision that they made on a corner kick or missed header. In the NFL, we are aware of the bad players but simply don't draft them in fantasy leagues and try to hide their lack of skills by blanketing it on the general defensive or offensive deficiency. In the MLB, you can get away with sucking for a long, long time without getting benched. Hell, Rickie "Don't Call Me Dick" Weeks is batting .183 for half a season and still finds unquestioned daily starting time. You don't hear Rock commenting on Rickie's poor decisions. If anything, it's that he's more unlucky and getting robbed in the field, or not seeing pitches that well. Excuses.
Maybe it's the accents. Foreign terms and concepts. Some other X-factor. But I think half the reason why I get completely sucked into World Cup, Olympics, and Euro 2012 is the superb quality of commentary.
I'm pretty sure I haven't ever experienced heat of this magnitude in Wisconsin before. The weather guys say that 1988 was pretty bad, and I do remember various stretches from my youth when it was ungodly hot outside...but in more recent adult memory, this summer takes the cake. In fact, my family has been quoting Robin Williams from "Good Morning, Vietnam!" for the past two weeks.
Since June 30, when I came to Milwaukee for summer vacation and various concerts, Brewers games, and other 414-fun, I don't think it's dipped into the 70s during daylight hours. I went to Phish on June 30 and July 1 (review still forthcoming), and I thought those days were hot...I think the mercury hit the low 90s on those days. That would be refreshing after the past two weeks.
It started getting unbearable on July 2-3...on the 3rd, I had plans to hit the mid-afternoon Brewers game at 3 and then head to Summerfest for Tiesto. It was hot. Damn hot.
On July 5, it was even worse -- luckily we were able to trade our 3rd base line Brewers tickets (which would have been directly in the sweltering sun) to the 1st base side, which was only 102 in the shade. I had to take a few trips to the concourse to visit the giant ceiling fans for relief.
Even though it cooled off a bit over the weekend (only in the low-90s), the humidity intensified over Monday and Tuesday to deliver what might have been the worst heat of July yet...today we broke records in Milwaukee, topping 103 degrees.
I went disc golfing this morning at Brown Deer Park...it was 90 degrees when I started at 9 am, and 95 when I finished at 10:30. By this afternoon, it was ridiculous...how do people live in this weather in the south? I know it's all relative -- southerners would ask how we Wisconsinites bear the sub-zero temps in January and February. (And December and March, to a lesser extent.) I'd much rather put on layers and layers of clothing instead of trying to strip down to less than the birthday suit. Which still leaves you hot and sweaty when it's 100+ degrees.
As long as the AC is rocking, I guess I can bear the heat. Fingers crossed for no rolling blackouts.
After seeing Tiesto on the big stage not three days prior, I knew I'd find Paul Oakenfold vastly superior or pathetically inferior to the super-huge European club god.
And while I'm not going to admit that Paul Oakenfold is necessarily a better DJ than Tiesto, I certainly enjoyed his show more.
No contest, Oakenfold ripped the Miller Lite Oasis apart on this obscenely muggy Friday night.
While suffering from a stripped down stage show and, frankly, rapist-esque looks and points at the crowd, his beats just shook the joint. He aptly mixed a few American classics into his set, including Seven Nation Army by The White Stripes, Scar Tissue by Red Hot Chili Peppers, and Lenny Kravitz's Are You Gonna Go My Way, among a few others I'm sure I'm forgetting.
Much like Tiesto, he'd build a beat around a common song, whether it from the aforementioned list, or a few that touched on the cheesy, generic female-vocalist-from-Europe verses that plagued Teisto's set on Tuesday.
But the beats...oh, the beats. Oakenfold's drops were about as heavy as I've experienced in recent concert-going memory ("recent" meaning...post-2005). It was clear from the geto-go that I would clearly be adhering to a sober version of Ali G's "dancing like a prick" theory. Pretty much every beat put out by Oakenfold was, well, sweet-ass music to this guy's ears.
Style of music: Oakenfold by a full length over Tiesto.
Oakenfold did score some unwanted super-creepy points with his stage presence, though. He rarely emerged from behind his tables, which wasn't too bad, but when he did, it was as if he didn't quite know what to do with himself. A clap-clap here, and then I'll go to the other side, clap-clap over there, annnnnd, OK, I'm going back behind my tables.
Even creepier was "the point." There are many times when, during a DJ's set, the DJ doesn't have anything to do. The tunes are moving, your next beat is cued up and ready to go, and you've got 30 seconds to kind of...enjoy the moment. Oakenfold had this bad habit of holding onto his knobs for most of that time, and giving the crowd a creepy look. I just couldn't get on board with that -- it only allowed everyone to see how much time he wasted not doing anything. A few times, he'd realize, "Oh crap, I have about 43 seconds left until I actually have to turn these knobs, I'd better do something." So, instead, he'd give that creepy look to the audience again and point. Really awkwardly, just at one random person in the crowd. I think his intention was to point and emote the idea, "Here it comes, you're gonna love this." It ended up making him look like the guy who invented the idea of rape vans.
Style of stage-presence: Oakenfold, if you're into watching a DJ make you feel really awkward, even among a sea of 5,000 people.
Absolute creepiness aside, his set was just really spectacular. For a free stage that wasn't crowded at all on a Friday night, this one gets award for "happy unexpected moment from Summerfest 2012." (See De La Soul 7/9/11 for last year's recipient.)
I will have to upload the videos at a later date when I get back to my "home" computer, my iPad will not allow me to load videos.
After an already hot Brewers game (temperature of 97 in the sun while hanging out in the parking lot), my companion and I made it to the Marcus Amphitheater for Tiësto. I had never seen him before, and I generally like to support acts that don't suck that Summerfest brings in. Tiësto was definitely enough of a draw to earn my extra dollar for the Marcus ticket. The tickets came out to $28/each, thanks to a web deal that indicated to me that the show was selling terribly.
Sold terribly it did indeed. Most of the second yellow section of the Marcus went unfilled. Only the center five green bench seating sections were occupied. There was plenty of lawn space off to the sides, until, during Steve Aoki, security opened up the gates between bench seating and lawn, thusly making the whole place feel even more empty.
Steve Aoki was the first full set we got there in time to see, and although I had heard he's pretty good, I left only liking about half of his material. Some of his set included stuff that had a harder, grindier sound to it, or was straight up dubstep, which is fun for about four seconds. He was quite lively on stage, making laps a few times, and throwing half-sheet cakes into the crowd (perhaps from Metro Market?) on two separate occasions. The highlight of Aoki's set were, unfortunately, the 9:30 Big Bang fireworks, and a fun, bouncy remix of Kid CuDi's "Pursuit of Happiness."
Tiësto, on the other hand, is a few steps higher on production and professional scale. Lights, a pretty killer LED screen backdrop, and dry ice shooters (like anti-pyrotechnics?) added enough eye candy so Tiësto didn't have to resort to silly laps and gimmicks on stage.
The music was mostly a hit, although I did find Tiësto's routine to become overly formulaic at a few times. He'd play a song with Euro-ish lyrics in the background, build it, drop the bass, then repeat two or three times. Most of the cycles were hits, or badly needed breaks from some hot beats. A rare song in the mix did drag and had me thinking, "Get to the workin' overtime part!" He dabbled on a few catchy European DJ remixes that I couldn't quite place, and also the hit of the summer that no band or DJ can possibly resist playing, Gotye's "Somebody That I Used To Know."
Tiësto's productions, however, were pretty spot on. Without having to say so much as a word, Tiësto was able to rile fans into a frenzy with animated projections on the screen behind him, and also below, covering the stage from about three feet and lower. At times, the projections were amazing complements to the music. At others, they were the main attraction.
Tiësto provided enough of a bouncy, Euro club atmosphere in a large American shed to make everyone care enough that it was probably less than 50% full. Seeing as how his tour is called "Club Life," I'd say he was pretty spot on. Oh, and PS, these bucket-drummers that play outside of Summerfest for donations are incredible.
I admit, I wouldn't even consider myself a casual fan of the NBA...I pretty much watch the Finals, and I know enough about the better teams by watching ESPN and Sportscenter on a consistent basis.
But Chris Bosh is a fucking velociraptor in a human suit.
Not only are his NBA skills lacking, but dude just screams "RAPTOR." And no, it's not because he used to play for a team that nearly gave away his big secret.
As I was Googling pics for this post, I see that others have already beat me to it. Your secret is out, Bosh. You're a dinosaur, and we all know it. Several side-by-side images pop up in Google Images if you google "Chris Bosh velociraptor," which are too similar to discount.
It just seems as if Bosh never comes through offensively. Missing shots, easy layups...but what do you expect for someone who, under his poor excuse for a human suit, barely has arms long enough to dunk a basketball! Good thing raptors have such stunning leaping abilities, as showcased in Jurassic Park, in which, I hear, Bosh actually had a cameo.
The Heat may be taking the NBA Championship this year, but you don't fool me, Bosh. You're a velociraptor.
Today we had the trifecta-plus-one of sports. (I'm not sure if there's such a thing as quadfecta, hence trifecta-plus-one.) Any time you can watch and enjoy four different types of legitimate, major sports in one day, well, that's pretty tough to top.
We've currently got the European Futbol 2012 Championship in progress, which meant two matches daily at 11 a.m. and 2 p.m. for the last week. There is nothing like morning football. After the first round-robins, I'm on board with those wily underdogs, the Greeks. They don't really stand a chance, but since they won't really be a part of the EU soon, I'd like to see them go out on top.
Brewers baseball is always ongoing, like it or not. Unfortunately, it's been a down season for them this year, but it's always enjoyable to have the option to watch them leave the bases loaded or listen to Uecker talk about how incredible Silver Spring Mustard is on a freshly grilled Usinger's bratwurst, although he'll never give you the score in the middle of an inning. They're currently in the bottom of the 15th against the Twins, locked at four.
The US Open has also been ongoing since Thursday. This year has been particularly entertaining since there is no real top-notch, dominating golfer right now. And also because every professional golfer in the world is getting their asses handed to them by The Olympic Club in San Francisco, California. The leading score right now is ze German Jim Furyk, leading the pack at -1 for the tournament. Even par very well may take the green jacket. (A green jacket mention can't go without the following video:)
And finally, we have the NBA Playoffs. Many smart people don't care about the NBA at all, and some (like myself) only really start paying attention after the Bucks are mathematically eliminated, er, oops, after the playoffs start. I didn't even really follow the first two rounds this year. Let's face it, the NBA sucks as a professional league, tickets are so overpriced, and the only really interesting games to watch are the Conference Finals and NBA Finals. Tonight we have OKC Thunder vs. Hated Bron and the Miami Heat Machine. With the series tied at 1-1 and the Thunder requiring a win in Miami to regain homecourt advantage, tonight should be a heated contest. It's pretty much for the taking, LeBron. If the Heat lose, the fallout will be never-ending.
Of course, this is all an amateur workout up to the Summer Olympics on July 27; two glorious weeks of international competition in sports that mostly don't mean anything, except for table tennis and the uneven bars.
In my recent fandom of the band Radiohead, I've found their appeal to be polarizing among fans of rock music. People who like them really like them, and people who hate them really hate them. Even though I was late to the game -- even turning down stellar seats to their 2003 Alpine Valley show because I felt like I didn't know enough about them to see them live -- I've definitely come to appreciate them and consider myself in the group of people who really, really like them...to the point where I'd have to say they're the most relevant band of our entire generation.
The location was World Music Amp, er, wait, Midwest First Bank Amphitheater at Tinley Park, IL. I'd been tempted by some shows hosted there before, but had never actually made it there...one of the few Chicago-area venues left on my list. I brought friend Joe along, and we discovered that, despite a near trip to the ER in Kenosha, the trip went literally perfectly from the time we left Milwaukee until the time we returned.
That's right, a trip to the Kenosha ER was narrowly averted by my quick, MacGyver-like medical skills. I bought a new pair of crappy, knock-off sunglasses the other day, and without my real glasses, I have shaky eyesight as it is. Somehow, I swear these sunglasses make my eyesight worse. I was wearing them as I stumbled upon the cement curb at the BP gas station, and at first thought that I simply stubbed my toe. By the time I got to the refrigerated water section, I realized my sandal was squishy. With blood. I cautiously purchased my overpriced Fiji water and exited the gas station, trying not to drip blood anywhere. I just happened to not only have a whole package of random band-aids in my car, but also a totally random pair of shoes and socks in the back as well, not to mention a full-on medical bag of gauze and medical tape. It was my lucky day to get injured, I guess. Despite being largely uncomfortable for the rest of my night, I made it through the night. Quotes about toes from The Big Lebowski dangled in my mind all night. Now that it's been a few days, it still looks pretty bad...about a pinky-width patch of skin is flappin' off the end of my toe. Who needs stitches, anyway?
Getting in was easy, despite one missed turn. There was no wait to get into the parking lot, and we were parked pretty close to an exit. We figured this would benefit us on the way out, but it still took us about 25 minutes to get out.
Miraculously, as we approached the gates, we ran into Dirty and company, so we were able to catch up briefly before heading in, which we did shortly before Caribou took the stage. I was in line most of the time for a hamburger, so I can't comment much on their performance, other than it sounded good. I've tried Caribou in the past. They're good and all, but not entirely my thing.
Radiohead wowed me, on the other hand, as I fully expected them to do. On a visual and sonic level, they left nothing behind as they tore through a 2+ hour set containing every tune from their new album, The King of Limbs, and a hand-picked selection of older tunes, mostly from In Rainbows, Kid A, and Amnesiac. The crowd was an interesting mix of over-the-top hipsters ("smacking of effort," as we commented), lots of non-descript folks in their later 20's and early 30's, and a handful of dirty kidz with Phish shirts on.
(The Gloaming. Still gives me chills. Thom seizuring across the stage. It should be rainin'.)
Instead of a blow-by-blow review of the show, I'll try to highlight my top four thoughts/moments. (Why four? Because I feel three is short-changing the most relevant band of our time, and five would get a little long.)
1) Professionalism. Wow, this band is so tight. For a band that doesn't really tour regularly, they've got every little aspect worked out to a "T." (Minus the whole stage-collapsing-in-Toronto-and-killing-one-person-last-night thing, which probably wasn't their fault, directly.) The lights, musicianship, and overall professionalism of their stage presence is probably second-to-none. Everything seemed so polished. "In its right place," if you will. Ar ar ar.
(Idioteque @ Coachella, Indio, CA, April 2012. Not the show I'm reviewing, but the audio and visual of this video is second to none, and it's probably a better version than the Tinley version anyway. I could watch Thom dance around on stage all.day.long.)
2) Setlist. I walked out realizing that they didn't play two of the "big songs" that I wanted to (and always want to) hear: National Anthem and Paranoid Android. But in retrospect, I don't think I would have traded anything that they played for either of those songs. Their shows are very calculated, which also attributes to their aforementioned professionalism. It's a given that they do a long-ish main set, about 1:45 in length. They close with a heavy-hitter, ("Idioteque," in our case) and then come back to do two 3-4 song encores. It really gives them an opportunity to fit in a lot more songs and tempo-shifts than if they were to do a regular, full set with a standard 1-2 song encore. Highlights included Idioteque, The Gloaming, my first Kid A ("A" must stand for amazing), Everything In Its Right Place with an intro to the tune of R.E.M.'s The One I Love, Reckoner, and Myxomatosis. There were a few firsts for me in this show -- 3 new tunes (Staircase, Ful Stop, and Identikit, as well as the aforementioned tunes Kid A, Myxomatosis, bust-out Amnesiac b-side The Amazing Sound of Orgy, and of course everything from TKOL.) Ful Stop was mired in technicolored stage projections, which might have blown more minds than any other tune that night. Watch the video below, you'll see. Pretty sure I was seeing rainbow fractals for days following the show. (On a side-note, normally I hate YouTube concert vids where you can hear people talking, but in this case, the camera man's "Oh My GOD" pretty much sums it all up.)
3) The soft songs. Radiohead is known for their very slow, intricate, beautiful tunes. Amazingly, these are not lost in a 30,000-person capacity shed. Kid A, Codex, Separator, Arpeggi/Weird Fishes, and The Amazing Sound of Orgy caused a few people to sit, but overall the band executed these songs with full precision that lost nothing in the confines of a giant amphitheater. Softer tunes, especially done solo on a piano, can provide that small breather that the crowd needs, but can also provide that moment of restlessness if not placed properly. Radiohead seems to know how to avoid that lull, or at least keep my attention so I don't notice the others whom have lost interest.
4) Song selection. I guess this could be a subcategory of #2/Setlist, but I'm talking more about the song rotation here than what they played. It's just amazing that they have such a full catalog of songs, spanning 8 official studio albums, and more acoustic mix-tapes and single releases, and I still walk out totally content with what they played, ignoring the fact that they skipped a good chunk of songs on my perpetual "Wanna See It Tonight" list, including How to Disappear Completely, Airbag, National Anthem, Paranoid Android, Pyramid Song, I Might Be Wrong, House of Cards, Morning Bell, Bangers + Mash, Just...I mean, I could go on. Normally, I'd be a little pissed walking out of a show that left that many of my listed songs without a check next to them -- but again, the playing was so dead-on and enjoyable, Radiohead leaves you wanting more, every time.
And that's the mark of a truly great show -- you leave satisfied but still wishing you could have had more. Since they've been on the iPod nonstop in the last week, I'd have to say they've accomplished that feat.
Everyone has commented, "wow, you made it to summer, how awesome!" And on the exterior, yes, it's awesome. Not working for a stretch of 2+ months while still collecting paychecks certainly sounds like the American dream. But problems don't disappear during that time. Paychecks still come, but so do bills and other unexpected costs.
I've had a rough time adjusting to my newfound freedom, leaving me generally bored and thinking, "what am I gonna do until September?" I have various hobbies that I was excited to do, and I can, and do, do those things pretty much whenever I feel. Blogging. Starting an Instagram account. Reading. Porch gardening. Hating Scott Walker. Coming to Milwaukee, going to Brewers games. I'm still bored -- or at least, I feel like I'm just wasting time by doing nothing of importance. The real challenge in all of this is companionship. With all of my friends dispersed around the country (I love you all, but you suck for being so far away), it's tough to find new go-to people with whom to do things. Let's face it friends, we're an odd bunch into quirky things. Who else would grill out at 9 a.m. in anticipation of UEFA league championship soccer? Or go to a July 3 Brewers game in the 12th row behind home plate, then take a bus to Summerfest for Tiesto and fireworks?
I've gone to this shit alone before. I've even had a fun time raging it solo, save for a few moments of awkwardness. In every case, though, it's more fun to be with someone. Anyone.
As mentioned, I've taken to the social media apps to try to not only keep myself occupied, but try to enrich my knowledge of the social media stratosphere so I can attempt to implement it in my classes. I've definitely enjoyed the likes of Instagram, but still don't know much about it...I'm not even sure if non-members can view those picture posts that I make. It's linkable to Facebook (boo) and Twitter, but not blogspot, since that's a Google app. My latest addition was a picture of a car fire I witnessed 50 feet from my parking spot at Bayshore. Once shit started blowing up, I left to go shopping, trying to avoid flying fiery debris.
Finally, this weekend is the Bonnaroo Music and Arts festival, or whatever hokey name they've settled on for a grimy, hot, overpriced music festival not called Lollapalooza or Coachella. They're webcasting the whole shebang-a-bang, which would be way more sweet if the webcast didn't freez or shit out every few minutes. It goes through spurts, but overall so far has not compared to the flawless Coachella webcast. I watched parts of Radiohead last night, in between frozen lapses and inexplicable 30 second repeated loops, and Das Racist today.
Both were enjoyable. I love watching Radiohead's Johnny Greenwood on stage, laboring over his guitars and other toys. I'd heard of Das Racist before, and they were fun as well...three scrubby looking guys rocking the stereotypical MLB flat-brim hats and mumbling indecipherable lyrics, minus a song about Michael Jackson and millions of dollars, and another song that sampled a Billy Joel tune.
Phish gets the main webcast on Sunday, but I'll be seeing the real deal later this month (twice) and seeing Radiohead on Sunday night, which will most likely serve as my next gushing blog review come Monday.
The long, not so slow, slide toward modern day feudalism won.
Fear won. Greed won. Money won.
Paying off the heads of big corporations on the backs of regular working people won.
So be it. All of these are battles in a much longer war for the soul of this country.
Don't blame me, I voted for Kodos.
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On a happier note, here is a photo from week 1 of my porch garden. That's a tomato on the right, cukes in the middle, my Recall Walker plant, and jalapeños on the far left. I went easy on tomatoes this year since I don't eat a ton of them, and one plant of Roma should provide plenty come August and September. I do love cucumbers though, so I'm excited to see how many I yield out of one little pot standing in the corner of my porch.
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