Jamie Tennant

'08's Top 10

It’s a little late for this, but what the heck – here’s my own personal top ten for 2008.

Now, that said, let’s check what qualifies:  albums I actually own.  I could take the critics’ lists, go to the on-air booth here at CFMU, and load up, perfectly matching the Pitchfork hipsterdom album by album.  However, that would be lame.  (That said, I think the AV Club online for turning me on to one of my favourite albums of the year, the Gaslight Anthem).

So if there’s tons of stuff missing – or genres missing (where was the great hip hop this year?  I’m sure it exists, but I never actually got to hear it) – it’s only because I wanted to actually own the album if it was to be on this list. 

In no particular order:

Mardeen, Read Less Minds

A simple east coast indie rock band.  Nothing in their sound that’s particularly new, but that’s what drew me to it – its guitar sound and vague melancholia reminded me of early treble charger, which I still enjoy.  I’m a big fan of songwriting – no matter how much crazy Japanese neo-psyche I dig, I will always come back to well-written songs.  Plenty of new indie bands are a bit too clever clever with the songwriting.  Mardeen get down to business with a hook that actually hooks.  Which, in my opinion, is cleverer.

The Hold Steady, Stay Positive

I didn’t jump on the Hold Steady bandwagon with everybody else – in fact, it took several spins for me to truly enjoy Stay Positive.  The music is great, yes – to me it seems like Bob Mould meets E-Street Band grandiosity – but the real joy of this band is in its lyrics.  Stay Positive creates its own world of small town ennui, casual petty crime, and characters “sniffing at crystal in cute little cars,getting nailed against dumpsters behind townie bars.”  Combine this world with the driving sound and you’ve got a winning little universe that gets better with each visit.

The Gaslight Anthem, The ’59 Sound

Speaking of the E-Street band, few bands are as upfront about their Springsteen love as the Gaslight anthem.  References to their home state of Jersey, thematic similarities, lyrical nods and Brian Fallon’s weary yet passionate rasp all add up to the oversimplified-but-apt description “Springsteen as backed by a punk band.”  The AV Club’s Noel Murray and I share exactly the same opinion (and tastes perhaps) so let me quote him, because he says it better:  “While I can imagine that some might find their bold-faced sincerity overwrought, it's exactly what I'm looking for these days: well-written songs played simply and energetically, with a strong element of uplift.”  Yep, that’s about right.

Boris, Smile

Boris have their fingers in a lot of musical pies, working withi noise artists (Merzbow) and scary-ass Americans (Sun 0)))).  Lately, though, they’ve been straddling this odd line of J-pop and heavy psyche stoner rock, with the help of guest guitarist Michio Kurihara.  An understated record, a little more tuneful than usual, but still plenty spacey.  Next album?  Could be death metal.  You really never know.

R.E.M., Accelerate

I admit several things off the skip:  I have always been a big R.E.M. fan, and I have not been super impressed by a single release since their last great record, New Adventures in Hi-Fi.  So there was, naturally, a tendency for me to jump on the critical bandwagon and natter on about the “return” of R.E.M.  Well, I’ve been listening to the album for a while now, and guess what?  They have, indeed, returned, and it isn’t just my imagination.  There’s a spirit here that has been lacking for some time, and instead of going for the big pop flash they’ve written serious, snappy songs about, well, whatever Stipe’s usually on about.  Fine stuff from a venerable band.

Billy Bragg, Love & Justice

Well, okay, see the statements about R.E.M. above.  I wasn’t super thrilled when Billy started including more full-band arrangements because somehow he buffs off all the edges in production – and the edges were always part of Bragg’s charm.  Still, the songs on Love & Justice are the best he’s penned in a while, and if you got the special edition, you got a disc of Billy doing it old-school, with just his electric guitar.  These versions are even better, and show that he’s still got the energy that made him a formidable performer in the first place.

Fleet Foxes, Fleet Foxes

It took me a while to really get the Fleet Foxes – it never rocked as hard as I wanted it to, and the songs seemed to branch off in too many directions too soon, never settling in long enough for my liking.  Then I got used to it.  Then I got liking it.  Now, I’m always a bit taken aback by the gorgeous melodies and the whole atmosphere it invokes.  When you can musically reference Simon & Garfunkel and CSNY without sounding retro, you’re doing something right.

Metallica, Death Magnetic

I was never a purist who hated the pop-driven side of Metallica through the ‘90s.  In fact, I’m a big fan of some of that stuff.  Yet the more time passed, the less focused they seemed, until the sloppy mess of St. Anger landed on shelves.  Death Magnetic brings Metallica back to Master of Puppets/…And Justice For All, at least in theory.  And it works.

Kings of Leon, Only By The Night

A while back I got interested in the unlikely combination of soul music and indie rock which, for the most part, isn’t particularly R&B/soul friendly.  People used to say the Afghan Whigs were soul-inspired…but I never heard it.  Then I heard a great band called Catfish Haven, and it was almost like finding a missing link.  Kings of Leon don’t make it obvious on tracks like “Sex on Fire” but they sure the hell do on “Need Somebody,” which ranks as my favourite sing-along song of the year.  And that’s the truth, Ruth.

Lupe Fiasco – The Cool

Must of the fuss about Lupe is unwarranted – and unwanted, because no one wants this cool, quick, talented (and yet somehow nerdy) MC to become the next Kanye.  He can sound like your average MC while slipping in unexpected references, and manages to make it cool to talk about everything from the brutality of child soldiers to being loyal to your partner when you’re out on the road.  Lest you think it’s lame white-guy-approved hip-hop, Lupe’s production is contemporary and killer; in fact, modern hip-hop’s detractors might have to spin through this a few times to realize it’s far, far better than you might originally believe.

James Tennant

Program Director, 93.3 CFMU FM

UB119, MUSC, McMaster University

Hamilton, ON L8S 4S4

905.525.9140 x 27208

http://cfmu.mcmaster.ca

For a sublime '09

Musical Resolutions

The "new year's resolution" is not a horrible idea at first glance. You take the start of the year — psychologically tagged as a time for new beginnings, even if nothing tangible changes except the  calendar — and pledge to change something about your life. Perhaps you'll finally lose that 20 pounds, or quit smoking, or apply for that promotion. 

Yes, and perhaps you'll find a cure for cancer and end the recession too, my friend. As good an idea as a resolution sounds, there's just too much inherent pressure for most of them to succeed. You're better
to make changes when you're ready, throughout the year, than on one (technically meaningless) occasion. Really, after eating chocolate, shrimp, and chocolate-dipped shrimp for three weeks, you're going to go on a diet? Really? The idea of depriving myself of anything when I'm on my way back to work, trudging through the grey slush with a heavier stomach and a featherweight wallet...yeah. No thanks. Back to work, I'm-a gonna need all the comfort I can get.

Still, for 2009, I've decided to make some resolutions. You know, if you can "resolve" in a vague, who-cares-if-I-don't-do-it kind of way. (Just checked the OED. Apparently, no, that's not "resolve."  Oh well.) Anyway, these resolutions revolve around — surprise! — music. When you work in the business of music, you can easily get jaded, annoyed, cynical, and lazy.  You forget — you got into this business not because you love business, but because you love music. So to make music more of a pleasure and less "my work," I've resolved to do some of the following.

1.  See more music.
In 2007, you couldn't drag me out of the Casbah, unless you were dragging me to the Pepper Jack (and sometimes Absinthe). In 2008, however, something went awry. Habits changed. Relationships changed. Priorities shifted. My wallet started biting back. My liver wept. So, here's a new concept: drink water!  After a long dry spell (hah, get it) it'll be good to get back out there and see what people are doing. Live music has an addictive energy of its own; you get more involved with live music the more you see live music. I hope to load up until I'm overloaded. Then load up some more.

2.  Actually read reviews.
If you've been a reader here, you've heard me mention my friend Vickers. We both believe that most criticism has a dubious value (not no value — dubious value). Critics hated many of my favourite bands.  Critics hated such cinematic classics as "Better Off Dead" and the Norm MacDonald vehicle "Dirty Work."  (What?  You hated that stuff too? Screw you, critics!). At the same time, though, a well-written review does something more — and more important — than the quality of the record. They tell you what it sounds like, how it fits in to the artist's trajectory, and why you might love it even though they don't (or vice-versa). I might have discovered some of my recent faves (such as the Gaslight Anthem) earlier if I'd done some reading.

3.  Embrace more guilty pleasures.
Yeah, yeah, I don't like the term "guilty pleasure" either.  In reality, I don't feel guilty that I like Billy Joel.  Or "Too Much Time On My Hands" by Styx. Or the new Britney single. If the Jonas Brothers write
a catchy song, I'll dig it (though I'll still refer to them as "weirdo home-schooled abstinent pretty boys" even as I'm singing along). If my hipster friends turn up their noses, that's okay.  I've looked into their record collections. I know the truth. Somewhere behind the cool shiz lies a Creed CD.

4.  Explore other genres.
For almost thirty years, while I've had my sights set on pop music, I've caught the shadowy movements of jazz, blues, classical, bluegrass, etc. in my peripheral vision. I couldn't catch up if I devoted the rest of my life — and somehow yours — to the pursuit, but there's always room for a bit more exploration.

5.  Support artists more.
I'm not  particularly puritanical on the issue, but I don't download. You might not, either, if your day job involved mountains of silver plastic discs being shovelled onto your desk. Still, I want to make an
effort to go into more music stores and buy more CDs. Or DVDs, or T-shirts, or concert tickets, or what have you. 

6. Enjoy what I've got.
AV Club (www.avclub.com) readers might be familiar with Noel Murray's "Popless" project, which saw the writer eschew all new music for 2008. Instead, he went back through his collection to enjoy, re-evaluate and (in some cases) even discard older music. Most music nerds (like me) could never buy or receive another piece of music for the rest of our lives, and we'd still never be at a loss for something to fill the air around us.

Happy 2009, y'all.

Christmas tuneage: please vent SVP!

The idealized, snowglobe-meets Capra vision of Christmas evokes mixed emotions in some people.  On the one hand, it’s comforting in its sweetness and silence.  On the other, it’s overload.  When the tree meets the snow meets the stockings hung with care, the saccharine reaches seizure-inducing heights.

The audio equivalent of that idealized Christmas involves a few ho-hos, some jingling bells, and, of course, the ubiquitous soundtrack:  Christmas music.

I can remember singing along with carols as a youngster.  There wasn’t one I disliked.  Today, I still appreciate most Christmas music.  Except, of course, for that horrific Muzak version of “Sleigh Ride.”  The one with the grating synthy sounding orchestra.  That one provokes a Clockwork Orange-style level of aversion in me.  As if an icicle was thrust through my eardrums by angry elves while weary Wal-Mart employees pinned me down.  Composer Leroy Anderson would roll in his grave if someone forced him to hear that version of his own tune.

Other than that, I’m fine with Christmas music.  Real Christmas music.  What is “real” Christmas music, you ask?  Well, there’s the “faux” carols – the secular songs about Rudolph and Frosty and Santa and such.  Older, more traditional carols are far better and more musically interesting – there’s something unique and spiritual about melodies like “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen,” “We Three Kings” and “O Come All Ye Faithful.” 

What isn’t real Christmas music, you ask?  Oh, boy.  Let me tell you.

“All I Want For Christmas Is You” by Mariah Carey.  “I Never Knew The Meaning of Christmas” by N’Sync.  In a phrasel:  Christmas songs by popular musicians.

Now, don’t get me wrong.  Not all Christmas songs by popular musicians make me want to lay land mines on my rooftop and to booby-trap the chimney.  After all, I grew up on the Elvis Christmas album.  To me, it isn’t Christmas without “Blue Christmas.”  Hell, because of its inclusion on the record, I even consider “Mama Like The Roses” a Christmas song.  And it really, really isn’t. 

So why does everything else stick in my craw so badly?  I can stomach Springsteen’s E-Streety take on “Santa Claus Is Coming To Town.”  I can almost bear John Mellencamp’s version of the cheesy “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus.”  I truly dig The Waitresses’ “Christmas Wrapping” and The Pogues’ “Fairytale of New York,” but then, they’re more like songs that happen to involve Christmas than “Christmas songs.”

After that, well, I start to lose patience.  “Wonderful Christmas Time” never fails to make me reconsider my love of Paul McCartney (apparently Paul was simply having a wonderful Christmas time because he discovered some new, annoying settings on his Prophet-5).  The Smashing Pumpkins’ Christmas song?  Really, how does a person listen to Corgan’s Whine of Doom and feel festive?  And don’t even get me started on “Do They Know It’s Christmas.”  Good intentions and charitable causes aside, this song is dreadful, and lyrically insulting.  “Do they know it’s Christmas time at all?”  Likely they don’t – considering two-thirds of the planet isn’t Christian and doesn’t celebrate Christmas.  Hey, Cyndi Lauper, did you know when it was Ramadan?

Anyhow, I hope you’re not feeling all bah humbuggy because of this article.  I’m not suggesting anything of the sort.  I have a ten year old son.  Christmas is back to being nothing but awesome.  I’m perfectly happy to sing “O Come All Ye Faithful” or hum along with “Jingle Bells.”  I put up the tree and hang the garlands and reflect on the fact that, while it ultimately never changes the world , Christmas is a time when we are encouraged to think of others, to think of family, to think of peace.  This is never a bad idea in and of itself.

Still, if you want to vent a little because you’re frustrated by the forced cheer, or the shopping mall insanity, or just winter in general, let’s open a door for venting.  Post your least favourite and most loathed Christmas songs below.  It’ll make you feel better, and you’ll be more likely to enjoy your Eggnog.

discuss amongst yourselves ...

The only thing that I know is that I know nothing.
Damn, Socrates gets me down sometimes.  Here I am, working in sixteen different fields of the music business simultaneously, ostensibly one of the maddeningly-informed, information-filled resources in the community.  Then all I have to do is browse through the used CD bin and I realize, I don’t even own Exile on Main Street.
For serious.  How in the name of God does a music columnist go through his whole life and not own (arguably) the best Rolling Stones album? 
And that’s not all.  I also never owned any Monk until this morning’s purchases.  Or the first Pink Floyd album.  So, plenty of modern psyche in my collection, but no Piper At The Gates of Dawn. 
Sometimes I feel like that guy in High Fidelity – the guy to whom Jack Black says “Don’t tell anybody you don’t own Blonde on Blonde.  It’s gonna be okay.”
In fact, I think that line was the reason I got Blonde on Blonde, too.
The point, I think, is this:  when does a music fan finally through up their hands and say “That’s it!  I cannot possibly collect one more piece of music no matter how much of a classic it is!”  Is it still possible to collect, and be a completist with that collection, in a world where everything’s available to anyone with a computer and a credit card? 
Many will argue that no, you don’t have to have six thousand vinyl albums straining the floorboards in order to be a big music fan.  That’s just silly talk. 
Yet not too long ago, I was told by a friend that I couldn’t possibly be a Kinks fan, because I didn’t own any Kinks.
…but if I went online, downloaded some Kinks, and stored it on my hard drive without listening to it, would I have then been deemed a ‘fan?”
This post has nothing to do with anything.  Just some random thoughts for you.  Discuss if you will.  I’m going to leave now and self-consciously examine my CDs to see if I have the requisite number of Pixies records. 

Matthew Sweet

Matthew Sweet (photo: rolling stone)

I’m still a big kid when it comes to interviewing people.

Sometimes it’s just their status.  I can’t say I’ve ever had front row seats for a Robbie Williams show, but interviewing him impressed me (though it turned out he was actually very cool, funny, thankful, and adept at Scrabble).   Sometimes it’s a combination of status and something intangible, such as childhood idolization.  I still have a cassette that features the dryly laconic voice of Harrison Ford, and every time I listen to it -  maybe once every couple of years – the nerd in me starts to giggle.  I mean, come on.  It’s Han Solo.

Other times, though, my excitement is really unwarranted.  It wouldn’t be shared by most other people.  That’s when the interview is personal – because it’s a friend of mine, or, even better, when it’s an artist that I truly dig and we just happen to get along. 

Long story short, one such artist is Matthew Sweet.  The first time I talked to the Nebraska-born songwriter, it was on the wave of his first (and, unfortunately, last) enormous hit, “Sick of Myself” (though Guitar Hero II brought the classic “Girlfriend” back a little).   As much as interviewer/interviewee can hit it off – especially during a phone interview - we hit it off.  We had some strange coincidental connections and shared a level of music geekery that allowed us to chat for far longer than our allotted time.

Even ten years later, with the release of his latest album Sunshine Lies, I was super exited to talk to him.  Here’s a little bit of that conversation.

JT:  You recorded Sunshine Lies at home.  Does a home studio give you the freedom to pop in and out as you’re feeling inspired?

MS:  It does. It’s sort of at my leisure.  If anything that’s kind of a danger.  I was supposed to make a “home-made” record a couple of times, before I had the technology to really do it right.  That was in the ‘90s, around the time I did “100% Fun.” In retrospect, I’m so lucky I did that record the way I did, because it worked out well for me and helped solidify my career. Still, at the time I was supposed to get together a record at home, and I just felt to weird and pressured about it.  I made demos and wasn’t willing to say any of it was “my record.”   Now I’ve got so much experience in hearing other things.  I produced a group called The Bridges, and recorded a lot.  I don’t feel as much like I’ll fail at it, you know?  It’s a great thing for an artist like me who’s more of an introvert and did my early music hiding out making multri-tracks, a Todd Rundgren kind of guy.

JT:  They way you release music is different today, too.  You’re on a small label called Shout! Factory, and it’s a more manageable system and everyone’s excited.

MS:  They feel that, too.  When they’re only spending a small amount of money they can get excited and we can all be in it together and try to make something happen.  We knew it would work with Under the Covers [Sweet’s covers-collaboration with Susanna Hoffs] as there was a real novelty factor but it’s worked really well setting up my own record too.  It makes me think if we can find a niche and an amount of records that makes it work, and somehow keep an audience by not never making records in between every deal… I’m hoping I make my next record for Shout and there’s actually two efforts at one label. 

Chart:  What about touring?  Are they big tours?

MS: They are for me.  We played a few shows in southern California for the release last week and we’re going to go and play from Boulder, back east, and down the east coast in October.  Part of what we’re trying to do is keep them compact and sort of safe - in hopes that we’ll do well and then be able to go back and book more shows.  We don’t want to book some huge tour right now, at a really difficult time, and then have it not do well.  That just makes it harder for me to tour later.  We’re trying to tailor it to low expectations and then if it does well we can keep promoting.  Shout was adamant that I tour, and that’s for everybody’s benefit I think.

JT:  It’s probably more pleasant to do what the label wants when you really like that label.

MS:  It kind of is.  You know it’s easy when you’re the artist and you have a label to just have this snotty attitude like they want to reuin everything.  I had that plenty in my life, though I never was forced to really change or do anything like that.  It was just like to get your way you had to be the bigger bitch or whatever.  At Shout! I’m happy to respect that when people have an opinion, they’re trying to help me be an artist.  I just think at this level there’s a lot of commercial concerns that sort of go away.  It’s more about in my case connecting with people we know are out there.  We all meet fans everywhere all tlhe time.  If we could just figure out how they could know I had a record and that they would like it, you know?  That’s the effort.

JT:  You’ve said that one of your new hobbies has had a huge influence on your music.

MS:  I learned how to make pottery.  I make pottery on the wheel and I glaze and fire it and all kinds of different things.  A guy who is sort of my idol is a guy form the 1890s named Goerge Ohr, and his whole thing was “no two alike.” He was really one of the first abstract artists from this country who cared more about being an artist than the utility of things.  He’s become a star 100 years after his death – which he predicted by the way.  He’s super huge in the Smithsonian and everything, he’s gotten his due.  But in doing pottery it’s very interesting for me because it’s really so much like music.  It helped me better understand that place in music where creation takes place. At that moment when I’m throwing something, it’s down to how mellow and smooth I can be, not overthinking - that’s when al the great stuff happens in pottery.  Then I get it off the wheel and within a few hours, before it dries too much, I’m looking at these thrings I threw and I don’t even know how it happened.  How did I do that?  The more time that passes, the more it feels like it wasn’t me who did it. The difference is music is like in the ether, it never felt solid, I always felt in a way like I do nothing.  But with pottery there’s a thing that’s left.  There is with music, but it’s just in the air.

listen locally

Hey kids!

No one listens to CDs anymore.  It’s like cranking up your grandpa’s old Victrola!  Like putting an eight-track of Changesonebowie into the dash of your Chevy!  Like putting a wax cylinder on…whatever the hell they used to play wax cylinders. 

Still, if you want to disseminate music and actually put it in a pretty package, the CD can’t be beat.  Well, vinyl beats it, but it’s harder to rip to your iPod.  Oh, hell, let’s just get to the point, shall we?  C101.5 FM and 93.3 CFMU have just released a pretty new CD package.  A double CD package, even.  It’s called Everybody Dance Now: Songs from Hamilton Vol. III.  And it’s pretty awesome.  How couldn’t it be?  It’s all about the Hammer. Expect a full track-listing in the near future, closer to our C+C Music Festival (Oct. 24!).  In the meantime, if you’re a Mac or Mohawk student, you might just see some shaved-headed weirdo (um…that would be me…or C101’s Gunner) handing out shiny cool discs on your campus.  Grab one.

You can also listen to the groundbreaking C+C Music Show starting this Friday, September 5, hosted by Gunner and myself.  Groundbreaking?  Not because we’re the Martin & Lewis of radio (hell, we’re not even the Sheilds and Yarnell of radio) but because the program is simulcast on both stations.  So tune in to any of these, and you’ll find us:

93.3 FM (CFMU)

101.5 FM (CIOI)

http://cfmu.mcmaster.ca

http://www.mohawkcollege.ca/msa/cioi/frames.htm

The show airs from 1 pm – 3 pm every Friday until the 24^th of October, and features some of Hamilton’s finest in the studio and on the air.

Dig it!

JT

Hamilton’s premiere indie label, Sonic Unyon, has had a pretty spectacular year.  With two releases, they went in two directions – both returning to their roots as a local label and expanding into what might be called a “different demographic.”  That’s because the two albums in question were from bands that have quite a local history, Teenage Head and Simply Saucer.  These records weren’t just for the kids…

Wondering what the Unyon is up to now?  They’re branching out yet again, this time to Montreal, to release the sophomore album by Montreal based singer-songwriter Angela Desveaux.  In the U.S., Desveaux is signed to a label called Thrill Jockey, which is, as they say, kind of a big deal (the label was founded by dudes from the post-rock legends Tortoise). 

Her new album "Angela Desveaux & The Mighty Ship” will be released in Canada by Sonic Unyon on September 9th.

http://www.chartattack.com/damn/2008/08/2101.cfm

Fuji

I am neither particularly young and hip nor particularly old and jaded.  Being just on the windward side of forty, however, means that my progression from one to the other is certainly being made.  The "old" part is inescapable, should I want to continue to, you know, exist.  The "jaded" part, however, isn't necessarily a given.  I know twentysomethings who haunt the Casbah who are more jaded than I am.  Who knew that naiveté would have such benefits later in life?

Still, being in the rock writing biz for almost twenty years, you do start to get a little harder to impress.  That's why the Fuji Rock Festival has restored my faith.  I'm still verging on 39, but my cynicism had been swatted backward.

Fuji Rock came into place on the tailwinds of things like Lollapalooza and Glastonbury (in fact, it is run by the Japanese office of Smash, who organize the latter).  Upon my arrival, one of the first people I met called it "the best music festival in the world."  Why such high praise?  I've come to realize it's because the music is almost incidental.

Not that it isn't good, not that it isn't the focus - don't get me wrong.  There were ten stages at this year's festival, nestled into the mountain valleys in the resort town of Naeba, three hours north of Tokyo.  Combining all the artists, performers and DJs from Thursday's pre-festival party to final shutdown at 5 am Monday, there must have been about two hundred performers, some of whom performed more than once.  Music is central.  Yet the question I get asked the most is "who played?"  My answer is, "who cares?"  Fuji Rock a god-knows-how-big swatch of mountainous land that takes you forty-five minutes to traverse from end-to-end.  By the way, that's really far at 3 am, when you're leaving Paul Van Dyk at one end  to go see Grandmaster Flash at the other. There's even a stage up on the mountaintop, accessible only by gondola.Campsites on the slopes are teeming with excited fans, mostly Japanese, but ultimately from around the world.  The vibe is so positive, and the music so ubiquitous, that you almost don't care who you're seeing.  You're just happy to be hearing music in general.

Talk about music.  Talk about variety.  On my own docket (blogging reviews and other peices for Smash), I had punk, reggae, dub, folk, psyche, rock, experimental prog improv, post-rock, you name it.  That's not to mention the other stuff I took in, from Basque metal (the first band, Berri Txarrak, at the "pre-festival" party Thursday night) to gypsy punk (Gogol Bordello, whose 3 am set at in the "Crystal Palace" Spiegeltent was one of those much-hyped show-of-the-weekends that actually really was the show of the weekend).  I saw some band I wanted to see, who were outstanding (ALL, Ellegarden) and some band I wanted to see who were not so outstanding but weren't without their charms (Flower Travellin' Band, My Bloody Valentine).  On my way to one band, I'd pass by three others.  I can honestly say I lost track of the band I saw...but I think it was about thirty or forty.   Sixty?  God, I really don't know.

This blogging deal is no free ride.  The days are blisteringly hot and humid - until it rains on you.  The White Lodge is not air-conditioned.  You travel long distances to cover bands at opposite ends of the festival.  You write, and you write, and you write.  And you love it.

All through the weekend, I think I met two rude people. This is how polite, happy, and easy-going Fuji Rock people are - by "rude" I mean, "they bumped into me, and when I said excuse me, they didn't respond." That's about how rude it gets. No jarheads lit any towers on fire. No morons tackled me into the dirt. I didn't even see anyone puking in the bushes, despite the fact that you could drink anywhere in the park.

(Note to fellow Canadians: imagine Edgefest x 10 with beer as a free-for-all. Are you shaking in fear? Yes. Yes. Calm down. It's okay. Shhhhh. It's okay.)

So by 4:45 am on Sunday, I was wiped. Dead. Done. Stick a fork in me. My feet felt as though my soles had been beaten with a cricket bat. And I really didn't care.  Sign me up for next year, folks.

Check out www.fujirockexpress.com <http://www.fujirockexpress.com/>  (the English section) for live reports by myself and the rest of the E-team.

Not nude yet!

I know, I know…you’re asking “Tennant, why aren’t you writing about nudity?”

Well, okay, maybe you’re not asking that.  I sure wouldn’t be.  Still, I’ve been hinting that I’d like to write about my experiences as Malcolm in “The Full Monty” and really, all you have to do is say the words “public nudity” and peoples’ ears are going to, um, prick up. 

The thing is, every time I sit down and write about public nudity, I find the topic immensely boring.  If my thesis is “it was no big deal,” then there’s nothing to write about.

So procrastinating on that particular article once again, let me talk about something that is the opposite of immensely boring.  In fact, I think it’s immensely awesome.

Thanks to my connex in the east, my storied history of rambling about rock’n’roll, and the fact that I am able to put nouns and verbs in their proper order (most of the time), I’ve been offered a new gig.  I’ve been hired to blog my way through a weekend at Fuji Rock.

The Fuji Rock Festival (http://www.smash-uk.com/frf08/) runs the last weekend in July at Naeba, a ski resort outside of Tokyo.  This year’s line-up is utterly insane, including acts that range from My Bloody Valentine to Bootsy Collins to Ben Folds to countless way-cool Japanese bands (including current power-pop faves Ellegarden and the legendary Flower Travellin’ Band). 

Hopefully I’ll drop a few notes this way while I’m spending a weekend rocking in the woods…

Part Two will have almost nothing to do with music…though I’ll try and fit it in…

If ever I had any indie rock cred, I’ve lost it. 

Over the years, it has been draining from me at a slow bleed, in a manner similar to, say, M. Night Shyamalan’s talent (zing!).  It probably began the first time I defended Billy Joel in public.  It started leaking out my ears, dripping down onto my Marillion T-shirt, and pooling atop my copy of REO Speedwagon’s Hi Infidelity.

Recently, though, I willing reached into my soul with a dry sponge and mopped up the remaining drops…by participating in musical theatre.

For reasons that hardly need explanation, musical theatre is not hep with the hipsters.  Hokey, jokey, clichéd and often hackneyed, musical theatre is not “cool” as the word “cool” is defined.  Okay, perhaps super obscure Japanese avant garde theatre types like J.A. Caesar are cool, but that’s awfully obscure.  If you’re into that, you’re not a hipster either.  You’re a music nerd (or you’re me).

Whenever someone tries to write a “cool” musical, they seem to fail. Let’s face it, musicals aren’t cool.  Rent was supposed to be fairly hip…but you could argue that point for five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes straight, and no one’s likely to believe you.

Yet there’s plenty about musical theatre that deserves a little defence, even from the hipster’s point of view. Andrew Lloyd Webber was not just cool at the start, he was – and I use the word in all seriousness – awesome.  The original recording of Jesus Christ Superstar is a groovy rock record, with no one less than Ian (Deep Purple) Gillan as Jesus.  Roger Miller was a pretty decent songsmith, and his Big River is a gospelly country classic.  A bit of irony and some attitude can go a long way as well, as evidenced by Little Shop of Horrors or Hedwig and the Angry Inch. 

(Let’s not even get into movies.  Phantom of the Paradise?  Once?  Those two alone would make my case).

I don’t expect to ever regain my indie cred by talking like this.  But that’s okay.  You gotta dig what you gotta dig.  I may not go flip on The Full Monty soundtrack very often, but in the end, I’m happy I got to sing “Big-Ass Rock.”  And that I got to be naked in front of hundreds of people.

That last bit has very little to do with music…but I think I’m going to write about it next time anyway.  I’m pretty sure my editor will cut me some slack…