Concert Review: Lorde - 9/26/14 - BMO Harris Pavilion

(concerts in the 21st century, amirite?!)

Remember the adage “Dance like nobody's watching?”

On Friday night, before 5,000 or so people, Lorde did precisely that. “Twitchy” is a word I heard describing her show before the performance at the BMO Harris Pavilion. I would say that was spot on, as she danced and swayed and zigged and zagged through 15 solid songs. (Seriously: I cannot get enough of her dancing. She was a cross between Marilyn Manson in “TheBeautiful People” video  (around the 2:54 mark specifically) and Beavis and Butt-head, well, anytime they rocked out.)

Of course, her stage moves weren't the only notable thing about the show.

Lorde was backed up by only two musicians; a keyboardist that looked suspiciously like “Weird Al” Yankovic and a drummer that did not. This served her well as the minimalist instrumentation brought the focus to her voice, which sounded fantastic. Furthermore, it was definitely live, unlike a lot of her her pop star peers.

'Peer' is both a good and a bad word to describe Ms. Yelich-O'Connor as related to other pop stars. On the one hand she has the moves and the mannerisms down. She apparently went to the Mick Foley School of Pandering as she mentioned how much she liked Milwaukee over and over and over again. Cheap pops (applause, for the non-wrestling fanatics) abounded. On the other hand her lyrics are, if not totally deep man at the very least are more thoughtful than what passes as pop music these days. When she sang “I'm kind of over getting told to throw my hands up in the air” I could sympathize. When she sang “Hey, it’s all cool, I still like hotels, but I think that'll change,” as on “Still Sane,” a song about her newfound fame, I realized this is a girl with her head on straight.

Visually, the show was a stunner. Different songs found Lorde bathed in blues and reds and greys with outfits to match. A few numbers near the end featured these weird smoke bubbles, which led to my wife remarking “I could watch this all day!” Finally, after “Team,” cannons shot out confetti featuring a logo with Lorde's likeness on it.

The music itself was mostly spot-on as far as sounding like the record. It was easy to settle into the steady groove of “Tennis Court,” and other songs followed the same suit. She covered a couple of tunes: the banging “Flashing Lights” by Kanye West, and an effervescent take on Bon Iver's “Heavenly Father.” One of the set highlights came near the end, with an extended/remixed version of “Team.” It was already the most energetic cut from the Pure Heroine LP, but live the backing band jammed out amid synthesized guitar squall, which just washed over me to the point where I could lose myself in the beautiful noise.

Strangely, the Grammy-winning “Royals” was the weakest song of the night. It managed to sound more minimalist than it did on record, and just fell flat. Aside from an admittedly sweet but otherwise yammering (as if a teenager can talk any other way) 10-minute long monologue, that was the only misstep of the night.

I'll admit that I nearly left disappointed because Lorde didn't sing “A World Alone,” but she saved the best for last. It put an exclamation point on an excellent 80-minute set. Through all the shrieking teenage girls, the cell phone illumination, the spazzy dancing, and the confessional lyrics – the kind of stuff that might make one (specifically a 32-year-old male) feel like an outsider – the music brought everyone together. It didn't matter whether you came to the music by losing yourself in it via headphones, or by hearing the latest single on the radio. Lorde might have been singing about “dancing in this world alone,” but on this night every person in the place was dancing with 5,000 of their closest friends. It was proof of the power of pop music, and it was joyous.  

Top 10 Albums of 2013 (and a bunch of other stuff)

Last year at this time I wanted to write about how the process, the experience of music has changed. I did, along with my top ten of 2012... but the next day I decided everything I wrote was too influenced by drunken-ness (I published at 2:30 am, if I remember) so I ditched the whole thing.

I am going to salvage the opening because it still rings true. 

The way we listen to music has changed drastically since I started seriously listening to it over 15 years ago. Not to go all old-man on you, but back in those heady days of 1996, the only feasible way to listen to music aside from radio was to buy it on compact disc. If the album was one good single and mostly filler, it went on the shelf. But because that album cost me $15, it more than likely went back in the CD player at some point in a desperate search to find some deep cuts to justify my purchase.

Sometimes it worked (Adore by the Smashing Pumpkins, for instance), sometimes it didn’t. Either way, it sounds a lot like the Brewers trying to get a few more games out of a well past his prime Jeff Suppan -- a stubborn refusal to admit defeat. But it did force us (or at least me) to give albums that weren’t instantly ear-catchers a chance.

The 1999-2000 is where music listening changed forever for neither the first nor the last time. Napster debuted and brought mp3 downloading out from the Internet’s seedy underbelly into the mainstream. It was nice to download whatever you wanted whenever you wanted at no cost (except to the artists, their labels, etc.) but single songs were still king. Whether it was lackluster download speeds or bad CD rips or both, albums were still hard to come by.

One might think iTunes changed all that, but not so much. The 99-cents per song model still ensured you could download the cream of the crop, filler be damned.

Of course, as the Internet is wont to do, it made iTunes and the like moot with the emergence of BitTorrent. Coupled with the explosion of mainstream broadband internet and cheap storage, whole album downloading became a thing. Finding new music was never easier.

Or was it?

Streaming music came on the scene first with Rhapsody, then evolved into the “freemium” service Spotify. For the first time, legally, pretty much any album you ever wanted to hear is at your fingertips. No searching for the torrent with the most seeds. No worrying about the RIAA. No effort required.

Which brings me to my long-winded point.

There is no shortage of good music. It’s easier to find it than at any point in history. But it is also the most disposable it has ever been.

If I punch up an album on Spotify, as I did with many releases this year, and it doesn’t immediately grab me, I can just let it go, never to be heard again. It doesn’t exist on a shelf nor on my hard drive. Music is just out there in the ether now. And I found it quite difficult to find ten albums that really grabbed me, that really made me want to listen again and again. And it’s not because music is shitty. It’s because I don’t have to.

I’m a believer in too much of a good thing -- and in the case of determining the best albums of a given year, I think Spotify, Pandora, YouTube, and the like make it very difficult to do so.

(The only thing different is that this year yielded more albums worth talking about. I don't know if it was because it was a better year in music, or if I just got over the inherent disposability of music in out modern age.)

Without boring you any further: the best music of 2013.

Three female country artists and albums that need to be highlighted: Caitlin Rose (The Stand-in), Ashley Monroe (Like A Rose), and Kacey Musgraves (Same Trailer, Different Park)

Caitlin Rose's album was probably the most musically adventurous (which admittedly isn't saying much), Ashley Monroe might be the most rambunctious (“Weed Instead of Roses”) and Kacey Musgraves showed that modern country ladies can be insightful and even sexually tolerant (“Follow Your Arrow”). They all go against the stereotype of current country music being nothing more than pop music with twang. They all have something to say and all are worth your time if you enjoy such things.

These three ladies may not be forever remembered like known-on-a-first-name basis luminaries Patsy, Loretta, or Dolly, but they sure make suitable 21^st century stand-ins for the real thing.

Pithy statements about singles I loved:

Phosphorescent – "Song for Zula" – Really fucking pretty and heartbreaking

Paul McCartney – "New" – He's still got it, as if you doubted him (and if you did, fuck you)

Kanye West – "Black Skinhead" – Kanye's a shithead, but his music is interesting.

Haim – "Days Are Gone" – Eagles, Fleetwood Mac, and three Urban Outfitters-looking babes sisters? I'm in. (this one might be my #2 single of the year)

10. Night Birds – Born to Die in Suburbia

Befitting of an album only half an hour in length, I will not offer many words. It's 80's-influenced punk that's not too snotty and not too political. But it does its lyrical themes do include life the suburbs (duh), religion (“New Cults”) and, somewhat perfectly, Mick Foley (“Maimed for the Masses”). After discovering it – thanks AV Club! – I couldn't stop listening to it for days.

Standout track: "Maimed for the Masses"

09. Nine Inch Nails – Hesitation Marks

Don't call it a comeback, because Trent Reznor has mostly taken many years between albums anyways. But Hesitation Marks is the first NIN album in six years, and it is, well, distinctly Trent Reznor. He's always known his way around a hook, and I don't think this record is any different but if you're looking for the searing guitars of Broken or the utter despair of The Downward Spiral you might want to look elsewhere.

But you'd be missing out on an album that yes, doesn't blow you away with noise... it burbles under the surface. It twitches its way into your head. The first half of the album's name is apt; it's not one you listen to for instant gratification. That said, singles “Copy of A” and “Came Back Haunted” are fine entries into the NIN canon.

Standout track: "Copy of A"

08. Arcade Fire – Reflektor

I won't beat around the bush; the marketing behind this album was fucking stupid. That preceding sentence shouldn't matter at all, of course, but it was the sort of thing that made me hate being an Arcade Fire fan. It's not like they weren't pretentious enough, then they went and pulled this shit. (link to dress code)

Then I heard the album. I didn't like it.

But I spent more time with it and it revealed itself to me. Like all double studio albums, Reflektor is messy and sprawling and whatever other adjectives you want to throw at it. (Personally I like the second disc better; its songs seem more realized). But what's more important is that Arcade Fire still has something to say, whether it's about This Modern Life (title track), death (standout “Afterlife”), or sex (“Porno”). Much like Hesitation Marks, it's not a record that you'll fall in love with upon first listen, but it's quite rewarding if you give it a few chances.

Standout track: "Afterlife"

07. Milk Carton Kids – The Ash & Clay

If you haven't been paying attention to popular music, you wouldn't know that folk music is pretty big. You've got The Avett Brothers and Mumford & Sons and The Lumineers and on and on and on.

Milk Carton Kids do it up right with intricate guitar work and achingly beautiful harmonies. (not hurting them is the fact that vocally, they sound like vintage Simon and Garfunkel) The title track is one of my most listened to songs of the year.

It's somewhat odd that I don't have much more to say about an album I like so much. It's the type of record that works well when you want something pleasant in the background, but won't fail you when you want to sink into your headphones.

Standout track: "The Ash & Clay"

06. Black Sabbath – 13

I liked 13 when I first heard it, but I did have some minor quibbles. Ozzy sounded actually dead instead of ethereal as he did on Sabbath't best work; The riffs, though awesome, seemed recycled; and Brad Wilk is no Bill Ward.

But I listened to the album more and more, and appreciated it for what it was: masters of their chosen genre showing everyone how it's done. 13 seemed like it stole some pages from Load-era Metallica's book, but the more I think about it, 70's-era Black Sabbath always had a groove (or at least an audible bass line) to it – so if you want to hate on late-period Metallica, hate on Black Sabbath because from the beginning they proved that metal could be both punishing and catchy. (I would say almost danceable, but I don't want to be crucified)

13 might not be anything new, but it's everything that Sabbath ever was: Tony Iommi's encycopedia of riffs (again, yes, not all original), Ozzy's distinctive vocals (yeah, I know I shit on them before), even a moody, acoustic tune. For a swan song, a capstone on a fantastic career, and, yes, music for young people made by 60+ year-old men, you can't ask for much more, can you?

Standout track: "Damaged Soul"

05. Volcano Choir – Repave

I have about as much to say about an album at #5 on my list as you might expect. I love all of Justin Vernon's work as Bon Iver; his first collaboration with Collections of Colonies of Bees as Volcano Choir less so.

But Repave is something different. It is less weird and experimental and more concerned with making great, enjoyable songs. It is joyous folk rock. You might not believe this, but Vernon's lyrics actually kind of sort of make sense this time around! If you're not a fan of Bon Iver, this record won't change your mind. I can admit that. But if you're on the fence and want something that is pretty and accessible yet not totally radio-friendly, Repave will fill that void.

Standout Track: "Acetate"

04. Eminem – Marshall Mathers LP2

First things first: If you've never cared for Eminem, MMLP2 is not going to change your mind. The beats are mostly the same, save for the EDM-inspired album centerpiece “Rap God,” and the lyrics are full of misogny, homophobia, celebrity takedowns, and shock-jock posturing. It is also overstuffed at 78 minutes and could easily lose at least a few songs. (“The Monster,” “Stronger Than I Was,” and “So Much Better,” I'm looking at you.)

But the remaining 13 songs... – not counting the pointless “Parking Lot” skit – goddamn. MMLP2 is Eminem's most fun album in years. His lyrical acrobatics are on full display, but also his cleverness conceptually speaking. The 7-plus minute opening opus “Bad Guy” is from the point of view of Stan's – yes, that Stan – little brother. Typing it out, it doesn't seem all that clever... but give it a listen and find out for yourself.

Not that Eminem was trying to, but he managed to endear himself to me by sampling several classic rock songs – Billy Squier's “The Stroke” (“Berzerk”), The Zombies' “Time of the Season” (“Rhyme or Reason”), Wayne Fontana and the Mindbenders' “Game of Love” (“Love Game,” which features hotshot next big thing Kendrick Lamar), and, finally, Joe Walsh's “Life's Been Good” on my favorite track “So Far...” Not only that, but there are plenty of callbacks to the original Marshall Mathers LP.

MMLP2 isn't really anything different, but it has all the elements that made Eminem great to begin with. 

Standout Track: "So Far"

03. Lorde – Pure Heroine

“Don't you think that it's boring how people talk” is how Lorde's debut album begins. Hell of an opening line if you ask me, considering Lorde – a.k.a. Ella Yelich-O'Connor – is a 17-year old girl. The chilly, minimalist instrumentation and hip-hop-inspired beats set the mood and tone for Lorde's worldview, which seems to be wise beyond her years. She rejects hip-hop and celebrity – and really, consumerist – culture on smash hit “Royals,” is scared of getting old on “Ribs” and deals with her impending fame in a level-headed way on “Still Sane.” All of these songs are sung in a sultry, breathy, – and yes – even sexy voice. (Yeah, I'll have a seat over there.) More intriguing than this debut LP is... what comes next? As she grows both musically and personally, it looks as though the sky's the limit for Lorde.

Standout Track: "A World Alone"

02. Daft Punk – Random Access Memories

I never cared all that much for Daft Punk. I remember when “Around the World” came out in '97 and thinking “what the fuck is this?” “One More Time” was a decent single, but I never bothered with the album it was from. Daft Punk could have dropped off the face of the earth, and I wouldn't have noticed.

Then the insane marketing campaign happened and I heard “Get Lucky” and I had to see what all the fuss was about. I was glad I did.

Daft Punk created an analog album for a digital age. Instead of following the trends and creating an album on iPad, they looked back at their influences and made a disc both retro and modern.

It's full of different sounds, from the disco-funk of “Get Lucky” and “Lose Yourself to Dance” to the yacht rock of “Fragments of Time” to the crazy fun house mirror atmosphere of “Touch” (which stars Paul Williams of “Rainbow Connection” fame).

But even with the guest stars – and there are many – Random Access Memories still manages to sound like something Daft Punk would create. Certainly it looks back to the 1970's as it was an album produced at great cost, and if you're the dismissive sort you could just call it a disco album and leave it at that. But that would be doing the 70+ minutes of RAM a disservice. It is a surprisingly human album from a couple of guys in robot helmets. I am glad, just this once, that I followed the hype.

Standout Track: "Touch"

01. Vampire Weekend – Modern Vampires of the City

If the first three Vampire Weekend records are considered as a trilogy – and lead singer Ezra Koenig considers it as such – than (this is Koenig speaking again, and I agree) Modern Vampires of the City is the afterparty. This is where some serious shit goes down. (or at least is talked about)

Vampires is worldly – check the Jamaican percussion on opener “Obvious Bicycle” (and damn me for not being able to find the review that clued me into this fact) – without being precious. Koenig still wears his education on his sleeve – I've never heard the phrase “richer than Croesus” before, but then again I went to a public high school and a state university, so maybe I'm just dumb) – but they seem more informed by actually living life itself than by academia.

And that's what Modern Vampires of the City is about: life. It talks about God and faith or lack thereof (“Ya Hey” and “Unbelievers”) and relationships (“Hannah Hunt”), and mortality (“Diane Young”) with all the wisdom of a, well, late-twenty-early-thirtysomething, which is exactly what I am. Koenig has seen enough to be cynical but not enough to be completely hopeless.

And then there's “Step,” my song of the year. There's one line in it, “Wisdom's a gift, but you'd trade it for youth” that made my year. Why? Because we're supposed to grow older and wiser with every passing year and like it, but with few exceptions I disagree with that.

In my younger days I'd much more appreciate music that hits me in the gut. Modern Vampires is an album that hits me in the heart and in the head (much like Arcade Fire's The Suburbs before it) and that's why it's my album of the year.

Standout Track: "Step"

Review: Paul McCartney at Miller Park

Paul McCartney is one of the last of a dying breed of rock n’ rollers that can truly connect generations of fans. The 44,000 or so people that filled Miller Park on a sweltering Tuesday night proved that; parents brought their small children, grown children brought their parents. They were all there to witness, in the flesh, one of the greatest musicians and songwriters of all time. None of them would leave disappointed.

At about 8:45, Sir Paul, sporting a knee-length overcoat, strolled out to the stage with his iconic Hofner “Violin” bass. The band started with “Eight Days A Week,” a perfect opener. It wasn’t the most rollicking of songs but it felt so comfortable, so familiar. Throughout the night it became apparent that McCartney’s music is comfort food for the ears and the soul. It’s not difficult or challenging, but it hits all the right spots in all the right ways.

Being the Beatles dork I am, I daydreamed about the songs he might play, and came away thinking I’d probably be more surprised by what he didn’t play than what he did. Naturally, Paul proved me wrong.

Yes, he did “Maybe I’m Amazed” and it was fantastic and possibly my favorite performance of the night. But to keep things interesting for himself as well as the audience, he and the band pulled out some deep cuts -- as much as Beatles songs can be considered deep cuts, anyways -- from the Sgt. Pepper album. “Being For The Benefit of Mr. Kite!” and “Lovely Rita.” Both were new to the setlist and both were awesome.

McCartney didn’t forget about his fellow fallen Beatles, either. He performed “Here Today,” a song about a conversation he wished he’d had with John Lennon. He also told a story about a ukulele given to him by George Harrison, and then used that ukulele to start off Harrison’s beautiful “Something.” Ringo, though he’s still alive, got the shaft. Poor Ringo.

There were times during the night where it was just Paul and an acoustic guitar. The easy country shuffle of “I’ve Just Seen A Face” wasn’t made to fill baseball stadiums, but it still sounded good. “Blackbird” was poignant as it ever was. “Yesterday” was “Yesterday,” which is to say it was phenomenal.

And despite everything I’ve just described, that’s only half of it. Over the course of two hours and forty-five minutes, the 71-year old McCartney and his great backing band didn’t let up. Hit after hit just kept coming and coming. His voice was nearly perfect. The last 10 songs were a tour de force of McCartney’s songwriting greatness.

Starting with “Let It Be,” which went into the pyrotechnic spectacle of “Live and Let Die,” which was followed by the communal sing-along of “Hey Jude.” All of this was before the two encores. The encores consisted of “Day Tripper,” “Hi Hi Hi’” (the weakest of the songs), “Get Back,” “Yesterday.” After that song Paul said “You guys look like you’re still ready to rock!” and the proceeded to kick into “Helter Skelter,” a performance which absolutely slayed. (Pun intended)

McCartney left us with the closing movement from Abbey Road’s second side medley (“Golden Slumbers”/”Carry That Weight”/”The End”) and a couplet that is as true now as it was when he wrote it: “And in the end, the love you take / Is equal to the love you make.”

As the crowd dispersed into the hot Milwaukee night, with guitar solos ringing in my head and earworm choruses threatening to keep me up well into the night, I knew it was a concert I and most of the other concertgoers would not soon forget.

Concert Review: They Might Be Giants

See if you can find us in this picture

Never having been to Turner Hall Ballroom and not being the biggest fan of They Might Be Giants, I thought going in that it would, at the very least, be an interesting experience. In this regard I was not wrong.

The people at the show, stereotypically speaking, were exactly what one would expect. Many fedoras were spotted. Some guys rocked a classic look, while others – dude with the silver sparkly fedora and red-star-shaped Elton John sunglasses, I'm looking at you – tried way to hard to be noticed. Thick black-rimmed glasses were also out in full force, myself included. Don't be fooled, though, as the crowd was as diverse as it was interesting. Schlubby middle aged dudes (including one with an exquisite skullet), mousy, plain women, teenagers and their parents, and relatively normal-looking couples were all well-represented.

But enough about the people.

“Joyous” is probably too strong of a word to describe the atmosphere of the sold-out Turner Hall, but the vibes in the room were definitely happy. Even though I didn't always know what was going on, I often found myself with a smile on my face, particularly during the between-song banter of primary Giants John Flansburgh and John Linnell.

The music of They Might Be Giants falls under the banner of “alternative,” comprising of pop, rock, jazz, surf punk?...yeah, I'll call it surf punk, and a bunch of other sounds. Various songs of the night found John Linnell busting out a bass clarinet and an accordion.

Of course, none of this matters if the songs aren't any good. Though perhaps not memorable for a newbie, I found them catchy and enjoyable enough. Certainly the fanboys – and yes, I mean fanBOYS – ate the show up, exuberantly dancing and pogoing to every song.

The set highlight for me was their well-known cover of “Istanbul (Not Constantinople).” It opened with a classical acoustic guitar solo and ended with an extended jam by the whole band. Also striking to me was that TMBG's aesthetic – lyrically and musically – seemed to be kindred spirits with “Weird Al” Yankovic. Perhaps not as demented as Yankovic's best work – at least as presented here – TMBG still shares his quirky, goofy, nerdy sense of humor. This helped me appreciate their music that much more.

The best response of the night was saved for their one and only genuine hit song, “Birdhouse In Your Soul.” It was certainly the song I was waiting for, but I thought the preceding 70 minutes were worth the wait and the ensuing 20 minutes were just as good. I was genuinely surprised that I enjoyed the show as much for a band I wasn't entirely familiar with.

****

Openers Moon Hooch deserve their own paragraph. As might be expected opening for TMBG, they had their own sound, consisting of two saxophonists and a drummer. Though I found it kind of tiring after 10 minutes or so, it was still hard to deny the toe-tapping nature of their music, especially when they went to a quiet-loud dynamic which made me want to rock out. Either way, the crowd gave them quite the ovation when the set was over and the band seemed honestly taken aback by the reception. It was one of those moments when you realize why you love watching live music.

Reviews -- Louis C.K. and "Weird Al" Yankovic

Louis C.K - Riverside Theater
Oct 10, 7PM

During an 80-minute set Louis C.K. proved once again why he is the hottest act in comedy right now.

One of C.K’s ongoing themes in his material is the darker, more selfish side of humanity and he got right into it with a story about seeing an old lady fall down at the airport. The people around her immediately became a group participating in a game of “decency chicken,” with the unfortunate winner having to help her up. Naturally, Louis was the “loser.”

Like an amalgam of Jerry Seinfeld and George Carlin, C.K. covered a range of topics that included but were not limited to: sex, divorce (“No one ever says ‘My divorce fell apart!’”), “shitty brains,” and the wisdom of age.

On why older people are smarter: (paraphrased) “A 58 year old garbageman from Long Island knows way more than a 28-year-old with a triple PHD. The garbageman has probably seen a dead body, received a handjob that he never told anyone about … The guy with the three PHDs has been thinking about precisely three things for 15 years. He doesn’t know shit!”

On cell phone pictures at the Super Bowl: “You know, if you’d put the fucking thing down, the resolution is amazing!”

C.K. went on about male’s love of breasts and his own shlubby appearance -- “Skinny guys have it made. They’re asking “Which way to the easy pussy?” -- delivering his lines like heavyweight boxer, body blow after body blow.

In the end, he brought it back around to the darker side of humanity, delivering a couple of headshots.

One such shot pondered what would happen if murder would be legal. Naturally, there would be a lot more murders, particularly of children. C.K. punctuated that last point by using his mic stand to simulate the curbstomping of a misbehaving child.

The final piece was something Louis called “Of Course...But Maybe...” where he had a good, sane thought followed up by something completely insane: (again, paraphrased) “Of course, we should be sympathetic to kids with nut allergies. Parents should be educated on this...but maybe...if you touch a nut and die, you should probably just die. Parents could put their hands over their eyes for a year and a half on this issue, and we’d be rid of this problem.”

This went on about Make-A-Wish kids, equality of the sexes, race relations, and finally (I think) slavery. (Distilled, the last one basically said “Look at all the good shit slavery produced!).

Louis C.K. conquered the sold-out crowd, who rewarded him with a standing ovation. It wasn’t quite as strong as his previous two specials, but still miles ahead of anything else that’s out there. For one of, if not the, hardest-working men in show business you can’t possibly ask for any more.




“Weird Al” Yankovic -- Northern Lights Theater, Potowatomi Bingo & Casino
Oct 13, 8PM

It has been 13 years since I last properly saw “Weird Al” Yankovic.  And the emphasis is on seeing him.

You don’t go to hear Yankovic and his band -- excellent musicians though they may be -- you go to see the spectacle, which is on par with professional wrestling or a Las Vegas production show.

The spectacle was in full force on Saturday night.

He didn’t speak much to the crowd, but at one point Yankovic did quip “If you follow your dreams and tour for thirty years, you too can one day realize your dream of headlining the Potowatomi Bingo & Casino!”

Even though the new material fell a little flat for me on record, it came alive, well, live.

“Perform This Way,” the first single from Alpocalypse, found Al performing in a giant peacock suit flanked by a band in similarly bizarre outfits. “Craigslist,” a Doors pastiche, had Yankovic come out in leather pants and a ridiculous wig. Adding to the realism, Al stumbled around stage like Jim Morrison at his drunken, stoned worst.

In the highlight of the night, “Wanna B Ur Lovr” from Poodle Hat, Yankovic came out in a snazzy red-and-black zebra-print suit. He didn’t stay on stage for long as he made his way out into the audience to sing (and bump, and grind on) to his lady fans. It was hilariously awkward.

Not to be forgotten, the clips played between costume changes were funny as usual. The Simpsons, King of the Hill, Friends, and Jeopardy all paid respect to Weird Al’s status as a pop culture icon, while his trademark “interviews” showed off his twisted sense of humor every bit as well as his songs do. One bit -- imagining Al as the bandleader on the Titanic -- is so funny you just have to watch it.

Aside from his boundless energy and the multitude of costume changes, what also struck me was the attention to detail for some of the songs. For “CNR,” a White Stripes pastiche about Charles Nelson Reilly, Only the drummer and guitarist stayed out for the song. During “Smells Like Nirvana,” the bassist performed the entire song barefoot, much like Krist Novoselic was fond of doing in concert. Those little things add to the performance as a whole.

And really, that’s what a “Weird Al” show is -- a performance. It is less live concert and more choreographed routine. As a music fan, it’s disappointing to find out the set was almost exactly the same as his Comedy Central special. (I was hoping against hope for an encore of “Albuquerque” but no dice.) It’s disappointing to find out he does the same moves and same gags night in and night out. And as far as the lip syncing rumors are concerned, it was hard to tell from my vantage point definitively. I think he has a little help in places, but it seemed like most of the time it was him singing live. Those things -- much like learning wrestling is fake -- might take away from enjoyment of the show. But just like diehard wrestling fans, the illusion of reality is merely part of a joke we’re all in on. As a comedy fan, very few in the business can top what “Weird Al” Yankovic does.

Yankovic and band did their traditional encore of “The Saga Begins” -- complete with Darth Vader and a cadre of storm troopers -- and “Yoda.” Much like the previous 90 minutes, the crowd ate up every second of the two Star Wars classics. I’ve never been disappointed by a “Weird Al” show, and until he has to physically stop what he’s doing I don’t think I can ever be.

My (Sorta) Retro Weekend

I spent the Fourth of July at my parents' house, and while there I found that they had saved all my old video game consoles despite their seemingly never-ending effort to clean out their basement. Even though video game emulators have been around for quite some time, there is something enjoyable about the tactile experience of plugging in the actual console, turning the game on, and playing it on the original joystick. Not that I have room for it, but soon I would be playing the Atari 2600. (The Sega Genesis is either broken or needs to be cleaned.)

The Atari was missing its power source, so that would need to be remedied. Because I am impatient, I wasn't going to order one online. Because Radio Shack's universal adapters are rather expensive I wasn't going there. So I did some searching online and found that surplus stores were a good source of random AC adapters.

As luck would have it, Milwaukee has such a store, and that store is American Science & Surplus. Awesome store if you're into the whole DIY electronics thing. Initially, the only 9V adapter they had didn't have the right plug, so I thought my plan had been foiled. But one last check of the "Very Assorted Adapters" bin proved lucky, and I had what I needed, though it is technically underpowered.

After some Googling, it was apparent -- though I figured it wouldn't be simple considering the adapter that came with the console was for 1980's televisions -- that it would take some re-jiggering to get the thing hooked up.

A trip to Radio Shack -- only $1.29 or so more than ordering it -- and I had my connector. (RCA to Coax)

After hooking it up through a VCR that I kept for some reason, I turned everything on and it worked. Sort of. It would turn on, but I couldn't get a picture with any game I tried. I wasn't sure if it was the set-up or the console or the generic plug I bought for a whole $2.50.

Ever the hoarder, I just so happen to have a legit old TV in the house, so I dragged that out and tried again. Eventually, success! The adapter doesn't always sit in the input so well, so I have to make sure it's in there tight. (That's what she said! Zing!)

I took apart the console to give it a good cleaning and to reset a ribbon cable that was making the "select" and "reset" buttons inoperable. Once that was all done, most of the games worked. It took some mild elbow grease, but in the end I was able to game like it was 1982.

 Later that night, I went to see Cake at Summerfest.

I am not the biggest Cake fan in the world, but I like their music well enough. Fashion Nugget is actually a pretty decent album. Lest you think Cake couldn't possibly be a draw, the overflow crowd at the Miller Oasis stage said otherwise.

Unfortunately the thing with overflow crowds is that half the people there are there maybe to see the one big hit and spend the rest of the time talking to their friends.

I'm not smug enough to delineate between true and fairweather fans, but generally when I go to see a concert -- whether it be at an indoor venue or at an outdoor festival -- I go to hear the music, not to socialize. (Whether I've actually ever been able to socialize regardless of situation is another story entirely.)

Cake didn't seem to care about that though. They went on and did their thing like they've been doing since the mid-1990's.

AV Club Milwaukee was dead on when they said "It’s somewhat like AC/DC in that its songs tend to feel fairly interchangeable, without a ton of distinction between albums; fortunately, it’s also somewhat like AC/DC in that the one Platonic song of which all its tunes are but cast shadows is enjoyable enough that it would be silly to make a fuss about it."

Cake sounded good overall, saving their biggest hits until the end -- "Short Skirt/Long Jacket," "Never There," and set-closer "The Distance." Also of note were "Frank Sinatra" and a Cake-ified cover of Black Sabbath's "War Pigs."

Singer John McCrea's voice occasionally struggled to be heard above the din, but when you're practically speaking the lyrics half the time, I suppose you can't expect much more.

And that's really the story of the show: I didn't expect much. I didn't get much more than that. It felt less like a concert and more like straining to hear an album at a crowded houseparty. But hey, I got to see Cake for a discount price. Cross another one off the 90's alt-rock bucket list. Maybe I'll go see Summerland after all.

The Avett Brothers Deliver Rollicking Two Hour Set

The Avett Brothers' music is hard to pigeonhole into just one genre, as they blend elements of country, bluegrass, folk, rock, and pop into a delicious musical stew. On Friday night at the brand new BMO Harris Pavilion, the band was firing on all cylinders.

Opening with the gentle-beginning "Laundry Room," the band exploded into the second half of the song with an almost punk-rock like energy and careened into the raucous bluegrass murder ballad "I Killed Sally's Lover." The Avett Brothers thrashed away on their instruments -- particularly striking was cellist Joe Kwon's furious headbanging --with an energy that propelled both band and crowd through a marathon two-hour set.

Biggest cheers of the night were for songs from The Avett Brothers' major-label breakthrough I and Love and You, but tunes from the other albums were received just as well.

Faring not as well were songs sprinkled in from the forthcoming album The Carpenter. Some people sprung for the beer or bathrooms lines, and others may or may not have left for good. Songs like the lead single "Live and Die" and "Love Like The Movies" were standard Avett Bros. fare, while "Winter In My Heart" sounded like something more suited for a generic country radio station. I'm betting those songs will grow on people when the album comes out, however.

As the set went on, it became apparent that the overflow "standing room only" area was not the place to be if you were interested in hearing the softer numbers. The tender, moving "Murder in the City" was practically ruined by the people more interested in talking to their friends instead of listening to the music.

One might think a band without a full-time drummer, and one which uses acoustic instruments (guitar, banjo, stand-up bass, and cello) would have a hard time competing with the other music going on at the festival, but they didn't. And just to prove they knew how to rock, they went electric for the fantastic "Kick Drum Heart" and at the end Scott Avett (it could have easily been Seth, though) ripped off a fierce solo that sounded suspiciously like it could have turned into "Freebird" at any second. That would have been a hell of an ending, but with plenty of gas left in the tank they played six more songs after that including the encore.

The Avett Brothers could have easily jogged to the finish line. Personally, I was tired and ready to go home, and all I had to do was stand there. Instead, they sprinted to the end with a rocking rendition of "Talk on Indolence." The entire 25-song set was delivered with a sincere graciousness and Southern bonhomie. They wanted to be here; the crowd wanted them here; and we were rewarded with the Avett Brothers playing their hearts out and leaving everything they had on the stage.

I feel like no one was left wanting more. And I mean that in the best possible way.

Set List:
Laundry Room
I Killed Sally's Lover
Will You Return?
Down With The Shine (new song)
And It Spread
Denouncing November Blue
January Wedding
Slight Figure of Speech
Winter In My Heart
Love Like the Movies
Salina
Paranoia in B-Flat Major
At the Beach
Head Full of Doubt/Road Full of Promise
Murder in the City
Just a Closer Walk With Thee
Please Pardon Yourself
The Fall
Kick Drum Heart
I and Love and You
Live And Die
Go to Sleep

Encore:
Shame
The Perfect Space
Talk on Indolence