Electric Mayhem

Tonight I ventured downtown Minneapolis to see my favorite band of the last year or so, The Arcade Fire, playing my favorite venue, the illustrious but always-on-the-ropes First Avenue. I had no knowledge of their performance until shortly before I left the Deece, so I would be looking for a handout outside the club.

I parked papa's truck and walked past the Fine Line Music Cafe, another great Twin City venue, where, unbeknownst to me, Sri Lankan sensation M.I.A. was hipping her hop. If I can't get into the Arcade Fire show, I'll come back here, I thought. Music in this city... so great.

As I cross the street, I notice First Avenue is very quiet on the outside. Upon closer inspection, it' s jumping inside--The Arcade Fire is already on. What? Early to bed in the MSP it seems. The opener (7:30 start!) was new-rage and fellow Quebecois act Wolf Parade, whose new disc I purchased just before the show and was rocking in the car. And then didn't get to see. Because I was late. I listened to Arcade Fire playing "Crown of Love," then "Headlights Look Like Diamonds" while I sulked on the sidewalk. Sure, I had seen them before. It even sounded like the same set. But I wanted to go. I mean, I paid for parking. I wasn't getting in.

I started up a conversation with another guy who was trying to get in earlier (and to M.I.A as well) and had no luck; he said it wouldn't have mattered when I got there. But he was on the guest list for the show at 7th Street Entry, the smaller club attached to First Ave. Rusty to the rescue. That was his name, Rusty. Weak, dude. I really wanted to ask if it was his poorly-concealed alias, but alas, the guest list did indeed say Rusty +1, and, with his friend bailing on him, I realized I was that +1. Goooo.

But not to sell him short, Rusty, who it turns out is neither gay nor a porn star, and I shared those similarities, some Grain Belt Premiums, and a very entertaining show starring Architecture in Helsinki, who put on the musical equivalent of a Chinese fire drill on the Entry's small stage. Nine members, multiple trombones, tuba, "auxilliary percussion" up the dooz. I was more overwhelmed than impressed by AIH's recent record, In Case We Die, but the frenetic live show fully won me over. They appear to be a band full of the crazy Aussies you meet in European hostels.

Though no fill-in for my beloved concert (and life *cringe*) partner Erin, the Rust-bucket proved a worthy adversary. Like me, he could name all members of Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem, including instruments, which, for those of you who are virgins, is the name of the house band on The Muppet Show. This conversation was reached when we realized that the guitar player for Dr. Dog, the unfortunately-named but entertaining rock band from Philly that opened up for AIH, strongly resembled Janice (top right in photo). The guitar player, unfortuantely for him, is male.

Electric mayhem, coincidentally, is both the best phrase to describe the live show of Architecture in Helsinki and the best cure for Wolf Parade/Arcade Fire dejection.

Thus, the maxim is proven again: a disappointing night in Minneapolis is better than a good night most anywhere else.

The Return of Vinny Greenhead

The latest from the Sound of Nonsense newsroom:

Bill Simmons vs. Chuck Klosterman. Cage-match steel-chair battle royale of sports, pop culture, and music. To which I respond with the Homer drool face. Link

Music vs. Time. A good article on whether the ability to have piles of music at your fingertips is really a good thing. On a different note, Stylus just finished its "Top 50 Basslines of All Time," which strikes me as ridiculous, both bad ridiculous and good ridiculous.

Vinny Greenhead vs. Tecmo SuperBowl. There were seven when Jerry Rice retired, but now it's back to eight with the return of Vinny to the Jets. If I were one of the seven other players trying to outlast the others from the classic original 1991 version of TSB on the NES, I'd be furious about seeing Testaverde back in action.
But who are these other 7 senior citizens of the NFL? I'll give you the positions, sports dorks: OG, WR, CB, LB, K, P, and P/QB (this one's easy). Two will most likely be in the hall of fame. Only one is a Demon Deacon who unexplicably had a reverse to him in Tecmo's Phoenix playbook despite having the slowest footspeed at his position. Answers to come in the comments.

At left, a Ken O'Brien pass is intended for Al Toon but it will most likely be intercepted by Tampa Bay's Wayne Haddix. First down, Buccaneers.

Did You Know? The Internet in Minnesota is the same as the Internet in Northern Virginia, only more beautiful in the fall.

The Legend of the Keytar

That’s what I’m calling it. That’s right, it’s the third installment in my moronic quest to chronicle ‘80s musical cheese.

One would think I would be intimidated to add a third disc to such an already stellar set, what with the previous albums, Reagan, Russkies, and 18 Ridiculous Pop Songs and ‘80s Vol. II: When Synthesizers Attack continuing to fly off the shelves. But there’s no drop-off in quality with ‘80s Vol. III: The Legend of the Keytar. It’s my favorite thus far.

My debt for the title goes to John Paul, whose affection for the ancient medieval instrument that is the keytar exceeds mine. While I had to dig a bit deeper this time with two ‘80s records already in the can, you still probably know these over-produced eighties anthems, or at least you know where they came from—the ‘80s, duder. It’s great for working out; it sounds like a huge montage sequence. Did you know that even Rocky had a montage? Ask JRoss, he’ll tell you.

Anyway, instead of simply listing the tracks, I thought I’d make it a bit more of a challenge…. I’ll put the answers later in the comments. Anyone who'd like a copy, let me know...

In track order:

1. I can see a new horizon, underneath the blazin' sky. I'll be where the eagle's flying higher and higher.
2. Try to be best ‘cause you’re only a man, and a man’s gotta learn to take it.
3. You play with words, you play with love. You can twist it around, baby that ain’t enough. 'Cause girl, I’m gonna know if you’re letting me in or letting me go. Don't lie when you're hurting inside.
4. We always wish for money, we always wish for fame. We think we have the answers, some things ain't ever going to change.
5. I’ve seen it before, it happens all the time. You’re closing the door, you leave the world behind. You’re digging for gold, you’re throwing away a fortune in feelings, but someday you’ll pay.
6. If you could see what I have seen, broken hearts and broken dreams. Then I wake up and you're not there, pain finds me everywhere. Oh, but you don't care.
7. After all is said and done, you never walked, you never run. You're a winner. You got the move, you know the street, break the rules, take the heat. You're nobody's fool.
8. Sometimes, you're better off dead. There's a gun in your hand, and it's pointing at your head. You think you're mad, too unstable. Kicking in chairs and knocking down tables.
9. I'm not expecting to grow flowers in the desert, but I can live and breathe and see the sun in wintertime.
10. Josie's on a vacation far away. Come around and talk it over. So many things that I wanna say. You know I like my girls a little bit older.
11. Shooting at the walls of heartache--bang, bang.
12. You keep your distance with a system of touch and gentle persuasion. I’m lost in admiration; could I need you this much? Oh, you’re wasting my time.
13. I'm sorry, but I'm just thinking of the right words to say. I know they don't sound the way I planned them to be.
14. The mist is lifting slowly; I can see the way ahead. And I’ve left behind the empty streets that once inspired my life. And the strength of the emotion is like thunder in the air. 'Cause the promise that we made each other haunts me to the end.
15. Turn around, look at what you see. In her face, the mirror of your dreams. Make believe I'm everywhere, I'm hidden in the lines and written on the pages is the answer...

A Random Sampling of Hypotheses, Theories, and Immutable Laws Learned from Ten Years of Drinking and Talking with the Lushes Who Believe Them.

Immutable Law #7: Dear God, Monday Is Terrible.

I used to remember Sundays being pretty bad, and they still are, but it has been entirely replaced in the hierarchy by working Mondays. Not sure exactly when it turned into a two-days-later thing, but it did.

Note: If you happen to be a secretary, please remember the following: (1) if but one employee gets there on Monday and there’s no joe, you are now unemployed, and (2) Decaf! You’ve got to be kidding me! I’ve been drinking decaf? Jesus, is the top of this pot orange? C’mon what do you think, I do this for my health? Jesus shit! Damn, okay, I’m sorry about your shirt. That should come right out though. Be sure to pre-treat. And I’m almost positive the burns are covered under the company plan.

Hypothesis #4: Time Flies When You’re Having Fun, or When You Have the Spins Real Bad and are Going to Lose It.

Frankly, there’s never enough time to really enjoy your position in life in either of these situations. This is only a theory because it is very easy to see that, when you decide to stay in and watch Laird with some short friends instead of going out on a Friday night, the time cannot go by quickly enough, despite your nagging suspicions that other people, in the bar down the street, might be having their time ‘fly.’

Theory #13: Being a Wingman Sucks, If For No Other Reason than Your So-Called Friend Used the Term ‘Wingman.’

I also hold strong to the belief that the wingman, reputed in light beer commercials to aid and possibly abet the alpha male with key decisions over the course of an evening, harms one’s ‘game’ to an infinite degree. Unless you are in Dupont.

Immutable Law #16: Vomit Is Not Vomit Unless Someone Else Sees It.

This important, hard-and-fast rule is really more of a family of rules. In its most common variety, it forces the stumbling inebriate to ask such brain-bending questions as “Can my stream of puke reach the toilet while my foot bars this broken-locked stall door?” and “I wonder how quiet the back-porch scene is at Daytona’s tonight, cause this line is way too long.”

There are, however, more exotic applications that have shown the rule to hold true as well in light of recent data. For example, when attempting to pass out in bed, particularly the bed of another, and the second part of Theory #4 (above) is nearing its full effect, it makes perfect sense to throw up under the pillow, replace the pillow, and then gracefully pass out on top of it. You can clean it up in the morning. Yeah, if that’s what pledges weren’t for.

Similarly, if you're taking a breather from your piss-poor dancing and vodka-sodas by sitting down at a crowded table at a dance club only to spew half-digested sushi bits all over the table, the proper two-part response is always to (1) look up at the ceiling while (2) using your forearm to wipe the puke onto your own lap. They probably missed it.

Corollary “B” to Hypothesis #4 above: I Could Never Cuddle and/or Spoon for This Long If I Wasn’t Shitcanned.

Unless your name starts with a “B” and ends with a “Ryan.”

Hypothesis #33: No-Cell-Phone-Time Should Be Observed Between Midnight and Seven a.m., But Isn’t.

There are so many reasons for this. We could start a movement. If you need to get home, or to slump-buster’s place, hail a cab. If you are not in a position to hail a cab, such as you are partying in Big Lake or cannot raise your arms, it’s best to either walk to a place of safety, such as one’s apartment or under a highway overpass, and sleep there until the sun, a bum, or an officer of the law wakes you up. You’ll thank me.

Immutable Law #21: The Partial Sentence “Let’s Go Back To My Place and…” May Only Be Followed By Five Select Phrases.

They may be used alone or together, and in any order. They are:

(1) “Finish that X and do that Y,” where X represents any intoxicating liquor OR Gatorade, and Y represents any stimulant or hallucinogenic drug, OR the words “thing where we pass out.”

(2) “Mate.”

(3) Any phrase that eventually includes the words “microwave,” “cheese” or “cheesy,” and “mouth.”

(4) “Cuddle and/or spoon.”**

(5) “Watch Laird.”

**Note: Included for humor value only. Must say ‘and/or.’

Hypothesis #51: The Question “Why Do I Keep Doing This?” Should Not Be Asked of One’s Self.

I’ve decided it’s taboo, for better or for worse, though it’s most certainly for worse. Meh.

humble beginnings... again.

..and I mean humble. Sound of Nonsense now exists purely in blog form. I've never been a big fan of blogs, but I'm even less of a fan of doing the layout and content for a site that no one reads. In short, this is much easier. Easy like sunday morning.

So, thanks for stopping by. But mostly, stay classy.