Will It Be Singin' In The Rain or Grease 2?

Those are basically the standards, on opposite ends of the quality spectrum, when it comes to musicals. Please let the adaptation of Rent be one of the good ones.

Something In The Way

There's an upcoming movie about the final hours of troubled rock star. It's another hypothetical revisionist history from Gus Van Sant, this time based on Kurt Cobain. It looks pretty good, and it even has a supporting role played by Sonic Youth's Kim Gordon.

Have Death Cab, Will Travel

On Friday, Lisa and I caught the world premiere of Drive Well, Sleep Carefully, a documentary that follows Death Cab For Cutie during the last few weeks of its Spring, 2004 tour. The film is currently running at The Seattle International Film Festival. Just to get this out of the way, initially I was disappointed that the film didn't cover a longer period of time on the tour. And I was disappointed that it wasn't an insider's view of what happens to bands on tour: no scenes of what's going on in the tour bus; no fights between band members; no perspective from the road crew; no comments from individual fans; no drug or alcohol binges. In fact, save for a few moments (the usual contrasting the way they used to tour -- crammed in a van; inspirations and the song-writing process; the honesty to say that they weren't going to stay with their independent label forever), the interviews with the band didn't provide much insight, keeping us at arm's length. But I realized that this is part of the band's personality: private, low-key, no fuss, business-like, punctual. We did get some glimpses of what the band is like away from the stage and what they do before shows. I particularly liked the scene of playing catch in front of the stage. Guns and Roses, they are not. They're the anti-rockstar band, well-behaved, honest, and unpretentious.

But let's get to the good stuff. The lack of revealing dialogue gives way to amazing concert footage, with many closeups of the musicians from the side of the stage. It made you feel like you were a roadie, waiting for your chance to run onstage to hand Ben Gibbard a freshly-tuned guitar, or maybe a towel to the ever sweating Nick Harmer. The performances, mainly comprised of songs from their latest album, Transatlanticism are energetic, which is always surprising, given that by the time the film crew caught up with the band, the band had been on the road for a long time, playing the same songs over and over. The band realizes that playing the songs can get exhausting and tiresome, but to their credit, they make it sound new and put on a good show for their grateful fans. Appreciation should be given to the film's director to show complete song performances, and limiting interruptions and cutaways. My favorites were "We Laugh Indoors", "We Looked Like Giants", and the brutally honest "Tiny Vessels".

The last show of the tour was at The Showbox, at home in Seattle. Lisa and I happened to be at that show, and I remember sitting in the farthest corner of the club, blown away. I bought their music a while back, but I had never seen them live before. They were on the verge of great things, with their unique style of pop, poignant lyrics (may Ben never get away from his semi-depressed Elliot Smith-like songwriting) and versatility. It was an honor be a witness to it. I really haven't been the same since. I place Ben Gibbard alongside Grant Lee Phillips as the great musicians and songwriters of our time. Lisa and I love Death Cab, and this year, to honor our pact of going out of town at least once a year to see a concert, we're headed to NYC in August to watch the band play the Central Park concert series. I guess we're Death Heads.

Here's to you, Mrs. Robinson

Long live Anne Bancroft.


And here's to you, Mrs. Robinson,
Jesus loves you more than you will know.
God bless you, please Mrs. Robinson.
Heaven holds a place for those who pray,
Hey, hey, hey

We'd like to know a little bit about your for our files
We'd like to help you learn to help yourself.
Look around you all you see are sympathetic eyes,
Stroll around the grounds until you feel at home.

And here's to you, Mrs. Robinson,
Jesus loves you more than you will know.
God bless you, please, Mrs. Robinson.
Heaven holds a place for those who pray,
Hey, hey, hey

Hide in the hiding place where no one ever goes.
Put it in your pantry with your cupcakes.
It's a little secret just the Robinsons' affair.
Most of all you've got to hide it from the kids.

Koo-koo-ka-choo, Mrs. Robinson,
Jesus loves you more than you will know.
God bless you, please, Mrs. Robinson.
Heaven holds a place for those who pray,
Hey, hey, hey

Sitting on a sofa on a Sunday afternoon.
Going to the candidate's debate.
Laugh about it, shout about it
When you've got to choose
Every way you look at this you lose.

Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio,
Our nation turns it's lonely eyes to you.
What's that you say, Mrs. Robinson.
Jotting Joe has left and gone away,
Hey hey hey.


-- Simon & Garfunkel

All Hands On The Good One

Pretty amazing couple of nights of concerts this week. Last night, Lisa and I caught Sleater-Kinney at the Moore Theater, where they kicked off their tour in support of their latest album, "The Woods". The Portland, OR trio added a heavier tone on this record, departing slightly from their pop-punk sound. If you listen to it, it has a live feel to it. And that's how it sounds in concert. More distortion and feedback, more improv. You feel Janet Weiss' drum crashes, Carrie Brownstein's extended solos, Corin Tucker's beautiful wail. Corin struggled with some of her vocals last night, so it will be interesting to see if she can make it through this tour. She really takes her voice through the wringer. Before the show, I managed to make it to Sonic Boom Records for an in-store autograph signing. They were all polite and sweet, posing for pictures, and taking the time to speak with the fans that showed up. It was a pretty small turnout at the signing, maybe forty people at the most when I left the store, considering the band's stature. And the show at The Moore didn't sell out, either. Disappointing, but at least we had room to move around. Maybe what kept people away was the stench of Bratwurst the concessions people insist on cooking in the lobby. I told Lisa it smelled like someone pissing on roast beef.

Tonight, another concert. Opposite in tone, but just as nourishing to the soul. We traveled all the way to West Seattle to Madison's to check out the acoustic folk stylings of JK and "his ladies", Kym Tuvim and Holly Figueroa. They were there, playing for free (save for a tip jar passed around>. I didn't know they were actually there in support of The One Campaign, a non-profit movement to end poverty and AIDS in Africa and around the globe. They played the second of two one hour sets, taking turns at the mic. Jonathan played three songs from his upcoming release: "Smoothe out the Lines", "Grace", and a cover of Bobby Brown's "Every Little Step I Take". Holly brought a (relative) hush to the noisy crowd with a cover of Bruce Springsteen's "One Step Up".

The first set featured four singer-songwriters I'd never heard of before, including Markus Rills from Germany, who sings like he's channeling Tom Waits. And an amazing singer from Minnesota, Ellis, the most enthusiastic and earnest person I've seen perform live in a long time. She sounds like what Ani Difranco would sound like if she was forced to live in Texas. Ellis was born in Texas, but she left when she was a teenager. Could you blame her?