Bad Idea Show Review: Bon Iver at Lakeshore Theater

photo via Flickr

On Thursday evening in Chicago, you could pay $10.50 to see a first run movie (Superhero Movie, anyone?) or, for 50 cents less, see Bon Iver perform at the Lakeshore Theater. While I cannot weigh in one way or another on the quality of Leatherheads, I can tell you that option 2 was clearly the winner.

Bon Iver is the end result of Justin Vernon spending three months alone in a Wisconsin cabin. When he emerged, he had created "For Emma, Forever Ago," an album that draws influences from the melancholy subdued pop of Elliott Smith or Nick Drake, combined with the falsetto vocals of Jeff Buckley or TV on the Radio. Thursday evening, Bon Iver played the album in sequential order (impressively armed with a different guitar for each song.) The vocal harmonies soared throughout a theater otherwise rendered completely silent. The silence magnified the spaces inbetween the vocal phrasings or strumming patterns. It created an atmosphere where you didn't want to move a muscle - you were simply locked in the moment. Powerful stuff indeed.

The entire album is streaming free online and is thus far my favorite album I've heard this year. And it's well worth the price of whatever other movie is playing this weekend

Ladies and Gentleman, Your First Shoe...

Purdue fresman forward Scott Martin made it public today that he intends to transfer to a different school. Damn.

Martin, who averaged 8.5 points and 3.8 rebounds for the Boilermakers, was the Frick to Robbie Hummel's Frack having played with said phenom since they were embryos. Needless to say, Martin's willingness to eschew a future with Hummel points to larger issues contributing to his decision to cut bait.

Obviously Martin was no slouch, but he wasn't consistent, battling an ankle injury and spotty shooting, not to mention dwelling somewhat in the pleasantly surprising shadow of Hummel.

Then came the inescapable coincidence; the latest issue of Gold and Black Illustrated featured the headline "The Future's So Bright" along with the face of coach Matt Painter and the prospective starting five for next season...which doesn't include Martin. Evidently Scott has wanted to be locked into a starting five since about December and he thinks he'll find that opportunity near home at Bryce Drew U. That has me thinking.

If Martin isn't homesick, as has been bandied about all season (oddly enough, especially considering Valparaiso's proximity to Purdue) and is in fact searching for playing time I have two observations. First: Morris Peterson. MoPete was a sixth-man with a surprising amount of effectiveness. There's no reason to expect Martin to be anything beyond first man off of the bench next year given his outside shooting and rebounding ability. Hell, Gene Keady always reminded players that you're only one injury away from the starting lineup. Plus, given enough time to throw on 15 pounds or so, who's to say Martin stays on the bench for the tip?

Secondly, and this one is the real kicker for me, with Martin's presumed transfer to another D-1 school (look out Marian College) comes the requisite year sat out. In that same intermission senior Nemanja Calasan will have graduated leaving a gaping hole in Purdue's starting five. Gee, who might step into that gap? So if all signs point to a Valpo transfer, Martin is giving up a year on a preseason top 10 squad laden with talent for....for....for what exactly? Sit out a year so that you can start in the same season you would have already been a starter? Huh?

What next? Calasan gets deported. Keaton Grant's knee is inoperable. Kramer gets caught selling crystal meth and E'Twaun Moor flunks out. Woe is us.

I truly hope Martin is homesick, because otherwise, I just don't get it.

Let's Engrave Two

Monday was a rainy opening day at Wrigley Field, but spirits were high. Not only was all of Wrigleyville worshiping at the altar of Fukudome (while watching the remaining 8 spots in the lineup bat 2 - 31 on the day) but Ernie Banks had his statue unveiled at the corner of Clark and Addison. I watched the game at a friend's place a block from the stadium, with several die hard Cub fans, most of whom took notice of Jesse Jackson (in attendance for reasons unknown) wedging himself between Banks and Hank Aaron in every camera shot.

The game itself was a standard Cubs outing, tying the game in the bottom of the 9th on an electrifying Fukudome home run, only to lose in 10. A couple hours after the game ended, I decided to head home. I walked past the statue while heading for the El and stopped to take a quick glance. It looked nice, and there were still occasional fans posing for photos next to Mr. Cub.

I turned to keep walking. Then something caught my eye at the base of the statue. The quote that Ernie Banks is known for.Can you see (or rather, not see) what I didn't see?




If you're looking for an apostrophe in that first word, keep looking. It's not there.

Was Fukudome in charge of proofreading this thing as well? "Let's" is a contraction of "let us."

Leave it to the Cubs to put up a statue that they'll now be forced to correct at some pre-dawn hour this week. In the team's defense, it could have happened to anyone. Contractions kicked my ass in the 5th grade too.

There She Goes

While Dirk is tripping fondly down the chronological REM path and Costello is reliving bygone moments of Dave Coulier, the time seems high for me to come clean with at least one glimpse into my past.

If you could travel back in time to meet 19-year-old Ross McLochness and got the opportunity to ask him what the ideal girl would look like he might have said something like this: "I don't think I could pick her out of a lineup, but I definitely know how I'll meet her. It'll be at a show."

Shows - now called concerts by grownup Ross - were the be all and end all of the mid 90's. You were who you were based on the shows you attended. You proved your mettle by going to shows. Big shows, little shows. Shows where you knew someone in the band and shows where you only wished you were in the band. Shows at the Emerson. Shows at Deer Creek. Shows at Door #3 and the second floor auditorium of some Methodist church. These shows were your life, and thus what better place to meet someone with which to spend the rest of your life...of course, going to shows.

This mythical archetype of a girl came from various sources. She was a sketch more than a masterpiece, but 19-year-old Ross did have a few concrete ideas to work with, and they came from the only stalwart bastion of unceasing feminine paradigms available before DSL: MTV.

First girl first, Ross and all inhabitants of NW 2 at Wiley Hall were big fans of the femme fatale featured in Nada Surf's video for "Popular."


This sassy, big-eyed Jersey girl is a straight-forward 1996 hottie. Don't think that Ross falls for the prototypical American obsession with cheerleaders or has some Ed Woodian angora sweater fetish, but he did know pretty when it came into his dormroom nightly via Alternative Nation and 120 Minutes.

Then came Dorothy Gale from the Blues Traveler video for "Run-Around."



Again, all gingham fetishes aside, Ross knew nice when he saw it. Dorothy is a bit older than the "Popular" girl - but not too much older (read: inaccessible) because she still needs a fake ID. Dorothy is now moving closer to the Ross fantasy of meeting attractive, like-minded girls at shows, even if she's got a lion, tin man and scarecrow running wingman and falls for the tomfoolery of one Ken Ober. (Ken, by the way, calls to mind the younger Ross's fancy for Remote Control's own Kari Wuhrer. That's a post for another blog entirely.) Dorothy here is not only beautiful but resourceful, and 19-year-old Ross is willing to forgive her youthful indiscretions with jam bands.

Then came the piece-de-resistance courtesy of MTV2. She's no bombshell. She's not ending up on any posters in a trucker's bedroom. On the contrary, she is the Volkswagen driving, ice skating girl-next-door from Orbit's "Medicine."



Dedicated, sweater-wearing athlete, not distracted by guys in penguin suits, bands on the ice, or random Zambonis; this is a girl you can take home to Ma McLochness.

Ross had a penchant for pale girls with dark hair. So what. The moral of the story is this. Ross met his wife on the porch of his house, not at a show. His first words to her weren't, "Have you seen these guys before?" but were in fact, "Who are you?"

Ain't life funny?

Back in Gear

Album release day is a holiday of sorts. For music fans it's a culmination of a journey, beginning when you first hear that one of your favorite bands are back in the studio. The waiting game begins... New songs are being written! They're moving to another studio! The demos are adventurous and edgy! The song list has been finalized! Sequencing and mixing are complete! Artwork! We have artwork! When release day finally comes (and you've gone through the self-discipline of refusing to listen to leaked versions on torrent sites) it can be like getting an extra birthday - and one that sometimes can even come several times a year. The quality of that gift can vary of course. Sometimes the gift takes a band that you had a middling interest in, and launches them into the stratosphere of musical giants (see: Z.) Sometimes it treats you like an out of touch aunt, taking something you once held sacred and making you now feel like a fool (see: Make Believe.)

Or sometimes, like today, the gift simply offers a reminder about how we are drawn to bands in the first place.

For the past decade or so, R.E.M. fans have watched the band ceremoniously fall from grace. The commercial failures haven't been that important, although it never went without notice that suddenly their 1980's counterpart U2 was suddenly once again the "biggest band in the world," after two inexplicably sub par albums. But U2 could get away with that. When you're as desperate to remain famous as Bono, you can convince people that you're still relevant, whether the music backs your point or not. R.E.M. did not have that luxury. They never wanted to be rock stars, they just wanted to be a band. The flaw with this mindset, however, is that when the music is uneven (as Reveal was) or just adult-contemporary swill (Around the Sun), you have nothing to fall back on. They couldn't keep shoving a horrible single down people's throats via iPod ads because they had always been a band selling music above image, so when the music doesn't hold up, you just have four normal looking guys from Athens, not..well...this guy.

But the R.E.M. resurgence begins with Accelerate, and thus far reviews seem to be solid. It's not an earth-shattering sonic overhaul, but neither is following the lead of resting on past laurels. It's simply a welcome reminder that the band actually can make a great album without Bill Berry (something that since 1999, I've thought would probably never happen again.)

My all-time favorite R.E.M. clip is from 25 years ago, and it's my favorite for several reasons.

• It shows how different late night shows are today when compared to 1983. This was their 2nd song of the broadcast, which you would never see today, especially with the host interviewing the band in between songs.
• On that same thread, what band plays an untitled, not yet recorded song on their national TV debut? This is what happens when bands decide what they should play, as opposed to record execs.
• It's a reminder that Michael Stipe was once actually camera shy, as he hides behind Peter Buck, piping up only to name drop Herschel Walker.
• The awkward banter is nothing less than compelling. Letterman really wants to get to the bottom of what's going on in Athens, and will not accept "Nothing" as an answer.
• A young Mike Mills still has "rock star" written all over him, doesn't he?