People like weeds

Weeds, in this country at least, are illegal. Nowhere can you buy dandelion seeds. In fact, we take calculated measures to eliminate and prevent these plants that just go spreading their seed willy-nilly. The very plant we refer to as "weed" is illegal. Legally, you can't buy it, you can't grow it, you can't ingest it. And yet, there are people who behave exactly like these purportedly despicable plants; spreading their seed all over the place despite the fact that nobody asked for it -- nobody wants them to, they just do. It's perfectly legal. See when it's people behaving this way, we reward them with television contracts like 19 & Counting or Jersey Shore. I'm not saying we should necessarily take the same course of action on these people as we do weeds. What I am saying is that, if these people are legally allowed to exist and even thrive, then so to should weed. And believe me, I'm really not picky about which way we go with that legislation.

Pete vs. technology

I can tell this is going to be unpopular, but I'll say it anyway. I hate all these camera phone, mp3, email, internet things. They're referred to as phones, but you can't really just call it a phone. That's like calling my oven a hand-burner. While truly, it is that, it also does other things. I admit it might be cool to have all these things in one place, but that's not really what you get. It's more like your phone is a bad impressionist. But I do like having all these great memories right in my pocket. Let me just scroll through a few here...there was the halloween my niece dressed as...yellow. Yeah, like a blurry yellow, I guess. Oh, that concert I went to that was...um, dark. Yep, I won't forget that night.

Adultery and other fun things

Adultery. I'll tell you what the problem with adultery is. There's no fear in the word "adultery." Man slaughter, aggravated assault, reckless endangerment, these are frightening terms. Even minor crimes like trespassing and loitering sound worse than they are thanks to the hyperbolic labels.

It's got to be something so terrible sounding that a person is embarrassed to have it associated with them. But apparently, cheating on your spouse is the very epitome of adulthood.

Criminal mischief, that's always been a personal favorite. But I think to be charged with criminal mischief you have to have a curly mustache and a cape.

*Note: the following event is purely hypothetical

But I got busted the other day. Yep. Illegal drugs. But really, it's my fault. The sign at the entrance to the park clearly stated "illegal drugs prohibited." Oh, if only I had read the sign! Then I would have known my illegal drugs were illegal. Why not "rape prohibited." "Also, no murdering." "Racketeering hitherto forboden!"

Tired of reviews? How 'bout some jokes!

I've never been asked to do stand-up, nor have I pursued this dream in anyway; but nevertheless, I've got some jokes. Ideally, I'd like to tell these jokes in some sort of venue with or without compensation. Until such an opportunity falls into my lap (which is apparently what it's going to take), I will use the universally agreed upon media for unwanted idea sharing. So music blog, you are now a whatever-crap-is-in-my-brain blog. Congratulations on the upgrade.

Men are dogs:
Women are always calling men dogs, but you don't really believe that. Now, I am in no way denying the verity of this comparison, all I ask is that if we are in fact dogs, then treat us like dogs. Yesterday my dog made it very clear that he wanted to go out, but my girlfriend told him, "not now, I'm not in the mood!"

What do you do if your dog does something wrong? You take him by the collar and show him exactly what he did wrong. If you just randomly smack him on the nose and say "if you don't know what you did wrong, then I'm not telling you" he'll probably behave. He will. But I guarantee he's humping the next leg through that door.

Minus the Bear's OMNI

Rating: 62

1. My Time - 4:05
2. Summer Angel - 4:45
3. Secret Country - 5:31
4. Hold Me Down - 4:08
5. Excuses - 4:38
6. The Thief - 4:33
7. Into the Mirror - 5:11
8. Animal Backwards - 4:16
9. Dayglow Vista Rd. - 5:10
10. Fooled by the Night - 7:23

My first impression of OMNI is that, if you’re new to the world of Minus the Bear, this should not be your first impression. Now to qualify, that statement sounds more negative than it really is. When I think back to my first impression of MtB, I recall emotions of frustration and annoyance. I was annoyed, not with the material, but with the labels. Minus the Bear is a pretty stupid band name, but it’s nothing compared to the impossibly stupid track names from their debut, Highly Refined Pirates. So why all the nonsense? Well in time, and after catching them live at a hole-in-the-wall bar in Philly, I came to develop a theory. It could have just been immaturity, but I like to think of it as fundamentalist hipster elitism. Think about it, what better way could there be to repel notoriety? It’s not quite as extreme as naming your band Starfucker or Shit and Shine, but the results are similarly off-putting.

“Hey, this song is pretty good. What’s it called?”

“Monkey!!! Knife!!! Fight!!!”

Taking the glass as half full, the moral of the story is this: for Minus the Bear, it’s all about the music. Just ignore the fact that the song is called “Hey, Wanna Throw Up?” and enjoy it for what it is. Since that first show, I’ve seen these guys live three more times – once for every album before OMNI. Pirates is still my favorite album, but the more material they have, the more I enjoyed each successive performance. Some bands like Spoon or The Shins are definitely more enjoyable in the studio, but bands like Minus the Bear should be judged by performance. So true, OMNI is not the best first impression, but it certainly makes me want to get back out to a live show.

Lyrically, there’s never been much to talk about. The first words on the first track of their first album are “and then we all bought yachts,” if you can’t take my word for it. Poetry, it is not, but sonically, OMNI hits new heights. “My Time” takes the ever present synth hooks from a supporting role into the foreground while the guitar plays the role of foil. Joe Chiccarelli’s grammy winning experience with The White Stripes and My Morning Jacket lends some of the cleanest production Minus the Bear has exhibited, which goes along way to elucidating the intricate layering of their music. “Secret Country” with its thick bass line and sparkling guitar solo are so much the better for it. Unfortunately, the problem is that, although “My Time” and the first single “Into the Mirror” certainly raise the stakes, the rest of the album more or less craps out. The songs have pretty much always been about how hard/softly Minus the Bear is going to do some ladies, but for the first time, it really starts to get obnoxious. “Should I find you’re not around, I would surely chase you down and lure you in with a lonely sound. Then I’ll have you.” It’s just lazy.

In all my years of listening to Minus the Bear, I’ve never found myself longing for more concise production. It was the messy, hectic chaos of Pirates that I found so captivating, and that made it so easy to really just get lost in the music. On OMNI, it’s damned difficult to forget about what is inherently annoying about Minus the Bear. Even still, as annoyed as I am with tracks like “Summer Angel,” the chorus is still so musically stimulating that I can’t help singing along and even enjoying it. I never thought I’d be the one to say this, but what we need is more jamming and less songwriting. I think I just threw up in my mouth.

Go see them live, please.

Battlehooch's Self-Titled

Rating: 74

Track List:

1. Only Baby Sharks
2. Human Ram
3. Somersaults
4. Ringtone
5. Caliphate
6. Red Tide
7. Battlehooch
8. Honest

When I was on the eighth grade junior varsity football team, I had a coach that, no matter how badly we were playing, insisted we just needed to play with a little more heart. Up until now, I just thought he was a remarkably unhelpful leader; but now that I’ve listened to some Battlehooch, I’m beginning to understand what he meant. Their homemade debut Piecechow is, at most, thirty percent talent – the rest is all heart. Somewhere between “Fishmilk” and “Fishmilkery,” I suddenly know what it means to give 110 percent. “Looks You Can’t See” is by far the high note of the disc, but for the most part, they’re working with pretty mediocre material. There’s nothing exceptionally inventive about their music, but it’s so much fun that it really doesn’t matter. They’re like a more accessible Need New Body, which is to say, they’re like an accessible Need New Body.

With the kind of energy these guys exhibit, I wouldn’t be surprised if Piecechow was laid down in one take. This year’s self-titled full length isn’t going to do much to change my perception of San Francisco being one of the freakiest cities in the country, but it should certainly alter the perception of Battlehooch. This album feels much more rehearsed without severing all of the crazy spastic energy that makes the act worthwhile, and makes me really want to go to a live show. Anybody can make one dancy, spazz rocky, art punky album, but most fizzle out pretty quickly after. Need New Body, !!!, Feral Children, MGMT, The Unicorns, The Rapture, Bloc Party… to name a few. Battlehooch seems to be a rare case of rapid productivity working in their favor. When you’re making a fire and you get a spark, sometimes it’s best to protect it from wind and rain and feed it slowly until it develops into a flame. Then again, sometimes you’ve just gotta blow on those embers until you faint.

Unlike a fledgling fire, this album is remarkably consistent. In a lot of ways, Battlehooch’s biggest accomplishment here is leaving well enough alone. I have little doubt that stretching this album to a more conventional eleven or twelve tracks would entail the use of filler material. Behold the glory of self-production. There aren’t really any stand-outs like “Looks” from Piecechow, but from the salaciously bawdy “Human Ram” to the carousing chantey inspired “Red Tide,” there really aren’t any low points either. “Somersaults” really challenges the talent to heart ratio with breathtaking new heights of musicality. The relentless minstrelization of San Fran street corners has clearly ratcheted up the skill level of this new school jam band. You can catch flashes of revamped 60s drug rock in the same breath as ultra-modern Man Man minded experimentation. Influences can be questionably recognized or hypothesized about, but really, they’re mostly irrelevant. To say that Battlehooch marches to a different beat is an understatement, and frankly, more hackneyed a statement than they deserve.

Even in the recorded format, these guys really know how to put on a show. It’s a rare treat these days to find an earnestly “indie” band. Most of the time the term “indie” carries about as much veritable weight as “hipster.” The terms aren’t meaningless, quite the contrary in fact. These types of terms have too many meanings to too many people. But then you come across some fabulously mustachioed diamonds in the rough like Battlehooch and it just reminds you exactly what it is you like about “indie” music. I’m not going to pretend they’re one of my favorite bands now, but almost equally impressively, Battlehooch has made me question the qualifications of those sacred bands in the V.I.P. section of my heart. Street cred is not just for rappers anymore.