Evening Musings: The Evening Muse had a Christmas Party Saturday for the new CD A Christmas Evening at the Muse, proceeds from which benefit local non-profit charities, including the Second Harvest Food Bank. Many local acts showed up to play a few songs, most with something of a Christmas theme: Les Dirt Clods, Jay Garrigan of Poprocket, Violet Strange (with drummer Chris Garges) David Childers, Shana Blake and Phil Carias of Tesser, Chris English and more. Frankly, most of the hipsterati looked like they were more interested in heading to Ooo La La at the Visulite, what with the promise of drag queens and nubile young breast-barers. Which is at least partially enticing, I must admit. Those who left early missed great sets by Deanna Campbell, Childers, and Blake, who truly sings like an angel. They also missed Childers spreading his "holiday cheer" throughout the small confines of the Muse, albeit probably unknowingly. Then again, maybe it was frankincense I smelled. -- TCD
It's the W(END) of the world as we know it. . . And I felt fine. What I can remember of it, anyway. I've always wanted to hate WEND, ever since they moved into town, tricked us by playing awesome college rock for about a week, and then pulled the Smiths in favor of the frickin' Offspring. So, to throw a few more logs on the fire, I've tuned into the station a bit more recently. First time, I got Nirvana. Second time, Ryan Adam. Cha-ching! The next time I tuned in, the pessimist in me hoping for the Verve Pipe or one of those Sum-182/Blink 47/Black 41 bands, I heard The Strokes, who WEND deejay Kristen called "The Buzz Band of The Century." Which made me laugh, until I considered the fact that this century is only in its first year. Maybe The End is doing something here, and trying to add a little edge to their playlist. Then again, maybe they're following Clear Channel's market studies. Pumped by my new radio enthusiasm, I headed off to check out the station's No-So-Acoustic Christmas Friday night, featuring Ben Folds, Train, Remy Zero and Pete Yorn. So of course, I show up for an End show and -- no tickets, even though Folds' publicity people had supposedly set them aside. Ready to rip the station a new one, I waited for about 10 minutes, and then was escorted to the band area to the right of the stage, and then given a VIP pass. Not being one who's very taken with meeting celebrities, much less the dork singer from Train, I was nonplussed. "Free beer in the back," I heard someone say as Yorn finished up a powerful set that had the kiddies screaming along with "China Girl." Three Guinnesses later (I love the End!), a fever-stricken Folds took the stage, playing almost every song from his new CD, rapping, playing drums, and generally behaving like a drunken-yet-sensitive frat boy. The drunken, insensitive frat boys ate it up, as did the multitude of 13-year-old girls, who squealed every time Folds dropped an F-bomb. After Folds finished, I once again toast the End's generosity while waiting on Train. Soon enough, however, I tired of the wait, and headed for the exits. Most trains take you somewhere. No need to spend hours waiting on one that doesn't. -- TCD