Fight Week: Jay Farrar vs. Jeff Tweedy

One time my friend Dan and I spent a train ride to the city arguing over which US President would win in a Battle Royal. I chose Washington. I think he chose Teddy Roosevelt. He was probably right. He usually is.

Anyway, I was thinking about the question earlier and started thinking about what would happen if some of my favorite musicians got into a fight. So this week I am going to do a post each day with a new fight.

On the card for today: Jay Farrar vs. Jeff Tweedy!
History: Uncle Tupelo stands as the premier band of the alt-country movement with their first album No Depression standing as the genre’s defining record. While ND was heavily weighted with Farrar’s vocals, singing duties became leveled on subsequent recordings as Tweedy’s songwriting developed. After Tupelo’s break up, Jay Farrar started Son Volt and Jeff started Wilco with the remaining members of Uncle Tupelo. Son Volt has had a solid, steady career while Wilco…well they’ve done pretty well for themselves.

Why they fight: Since the disbanding of Uncle Tupelo, Jeff Tweedy has made it pretty apparent that Jay Farrar is quite the asshole. This piece stands out from Greg Kot’s Learning How To Die:

Around this time, I would say something into a microphone onstage, and afterward [Farrar would] pull me aside and say, "Don't you ever fucking talk into that microphone again." He would misconstrue me talking into the microphone as more evidence of my out-of-control, rampant ego, more evidence of me feeling like I didn't have to be so fucking afraid anymore.

Farrar claims that Jeff made moves on his fiancé. Any Tweedy interview that refers to Uncle Tupelo contains some reference to Jay Farrar's position as dickhead supreme. And I may be taking liberties here, but I’ve gotta guess that Wilco being much more successful than Son Volt eats at Jay. A little bit.

Who wins: The early edge has to be given to Farrar. The guys vocals suggest the fact that he’s not someone you want to mess with. And he’s certainly got a bone to pick with Jeff. (As I write that sentence however, I realize what a weak argument that is. Jeff is certainly embittered; listen to “Misunderstood.”) Either way these guys hate each other; and while Farrar seemingly holds the physical advantage, I think Tweedy has taught the world not to count him out. He’s been written off several times, conquered addictions, and is still taking victory laps for defeating the AOL-Time Warner empire. So as the two fight, Tweedy holds his own until Farrar hits him with a pair of brass knuckles Jay Bennett passed him when no one was looking. Jay Farrar walks away the winner. And as the Wilco corner helps Tweedy collect himself Jay Bennett yells something about how "Heavy Metal Drummer" is still a stupid song which provokes a fight between Bennett and Glenn Kotche. Needless to say Glenn kicks the shit out of him and cuts off one of his dreadlocks.

Come back tomorrow to see what happens when Hüsker Dü's Bob Mould and Grant Hart join forces for a tag team match against Paul Westerberg and Tommy Stinson of The Replacements with guest referee Craig Finn.

Yo Gabba Gabba calls for a Piebald Reunion

After seeing this yesterday I began to think about Piebald.

Once I decided that I would never make a living as the lead singer of a punk rock band, I chose to become an Elementary school teacher (which would become an English teacher which would become an English major, but that’s not the point). The point is that this allowed me to gain a much more complete appreciation of Piebald. Travis Shettle, sings on “King Of The Road,” the opening track on the band’s career highlight We Are The Only Friends That We Have, “John, well, he got married to Laura and I teach their kid in first grade.” I took it to heart.

Piebald’s early sound goes back to the mid 90’s Boston post-hardcore/emo scene that they were immersed in. What separated them from the crowd was their lyrical styling of goofball wit. Most notable of these early songs is “100 % Good” where Shettle croons “You can flip me over like a record or a turtle which ever you prefer. One way I'll keep spinning the other I'll die in the sun.” The culmination of this sound came on 1999’s If It Weren’t For Venetian Blinds It Would Be Curtains For Us All. The lyrics move to the forefront of a perfected sound. With song titles such as “All You Need Is Drums To Start A Dance Party” and “If Marcus Garvey Dies, Marcus Garvey Lives,” Venetian Blinds launched Piebald to the forefront of the emo movement. The epic “Grace Kelly With Wings,” which also features vocals from guitarist Aaron Stuart on one of the bridges, stands as my favorite Piebald track.

In 2002, We Are The Only…saw the band’s sound switch to a much more riff-based rock n’ roll. And Travis established himself as one of the wittiest song-writers of his time:

“If you're bored than you must be boring too. Did I st-st-st-st-stutter?”

“A towel on his head after jumping off the pier, Rama said I looked like a Kennedy.”

“Can you please get off my coast and coat? I would like to leave. This is why I hate credit cards. Little body mighty hand.”

“It's just like liquor stores, mailboxes and pay phones. Whenever you need them they are impossible to find.”

I got to see Piebald twice before they broke up in 2008 (though I missed out on the last Chicago show). The second of these was the first time they were using their grease powered tour van. Great dudes.

After seeing Yo Gabba Gabba presenting these rock n’ roll songs to little kids, I couldn’t help but get sentimental for Piebald. Especially the song “Put Your Slippers On Instead”—which should be used as a lesson for all growing boys and girls.

I Was Drinking You Goodbye

Nike to sell custom Alkaline Trio shoe.

"Seeing the swoosh and our logo on one product is unbelievable," singer/guitarist Matt Skiba said in a statement. "The shoe looks amazing and provides some insight into who we are."

Thanks to Aversion. And Radio Free Chicago.

Well, I guess this is the point where I make the joke about how the shoe company who for years exploited children have now prostituted one of the most important bands of my youth.

Ha. I guess.

I need a beer.

Josh Homme moves up in the "People I Want To Have A Beer With" List

This rules

I haven't seen said video. I don't care to. I'm happy with this one.

Venna

When I first came to Illinois State there was a place in Bloomington called the Pool Party House. I was a lonely freshman, excited to find a place where I could see bands play, meet people, and get wasted.

Then it got torn down. And became a parking lot (see: "Big Yellow Taxi" by Joni Mitchell). And there’s a giant Ron Paul poster on a nearby fence to remind me that the world is a fucked up place.

But my friend continued the tradition of the Pool Party House by opening up his kitchen as a new place for shows. He called it The Kitchen. He was clever. And all was great. I met more people, continued to get wasted, and saw Mans about five times Spring semester (more on Mans to come).

As open as The Kitchen has always been to everyone, it was not the place I would have expected to first come across Venna. Coming into what most people considered to be a party, husband and wife Marky and Heather Hladish and Dustin Henry set up three chairs, the boys plugged their acoustic guitars into the PA and began to play to those who were interested. For all the metal, hardcore, grind, thrash, d-beat, you-name-it-core, that has graced The Kitchen, I’ve never seen anyone hold a group of people in their hands the way Venna did that night.

Marky and Dustin are both members of the post-hardcore band The Felix Culpa. Such is evident in their intricate guitar arrangements (though Marky does most of the guitar work on the recording). And combined with Heather’s gorgeous vocals, this group is really something special. They have an excellent six song EP released through Common Cloud Records. These two tracks were my favorite both on the recording and performance.

Meet Me In The Hammock (Bring Cigarettes) tells the story of a one way love from the perspective of the heartbreaker. Aside from tearing the life from a lover, Heather also brought me to tears with this song. “This is where my heart divides: I like your hands; you love my eyes. All is fair in love and sin and I don’t see you coming through this in one piece.” As she describes a feeling of a disintegrating relationship she holds a solemn empathy both for her and for her lover. It’s a feeling, a state of being, that I, like most, have been a part of and Heather describes all too perfectly; delivering with a heartbreaking compassion in her voice.

Papers is the final song on the EP and my personal favorite. Marky’s guitar is a beautiful folk arrangement that feels entirely organic. It’s warm, comforting, familiar—fitting as Heather on this song likens herself to “a river that runs deep and runs slow.” It is also her best performance as she brings forth both her soft comfort along with a display of her astounding range as a vocalist. The two flow together so cohesively throughout the song, so naturally. Their emotional connection as husband and wife seems to simply flow into their songwriting as their separate elements mesh together to create these wonderful songs. And as the two move toward the end of the song, Heather’s last line “He wears your shoes, your coat, your looks” is met by layers of acoustic guitars, mandolin, and a wide array of percussion along with a chorus singing the last line. It’s the type of song that every folk singer dreams of but so few could ever achieve.

Top Five 1 and 2

Rolling Stones – Tattoo You

1. Start Me Up
2. Hang Fire

The great John Cusack said in High Fidelity that “The making of a great compilation tape, like breaking up, is hard to do and takes ages longer than it might seem. You gotta kick off with a killer, to grab attention. Then you got to take it up a notch.” Same rules apply re: The Stones’ 1981 release Tattoo You which was essentially a collection of refurbished outtakes for their coming world tour.

“Start Me Up” stands as one of Keith Richards’ most memorable riffs. Originally cut as a reggae track for Pathe Marconi recording sessions of Some Girls, “Start Me Up” turned into of the great rockers for the Stones. Mick Jagger adds one of his best blues performances and the sing-along “You make a grown man cry” chorus.

“Hang Fire” certainly does kick it up a notch, owing debts to blues, early rock n’ roll, and surf rock. Another great sing-along, “Hang Fire” is also of the most overtly political songs the Stones ever released, taking on the recession of the early 80s in England and the people holding onto their money at the top.

Bruce Springsteen – Nebraska

1. Nebraska
2. Atlantic City

While I’ve always felt a closeness to Springsteen’s vision of the American dream, Nebraska seems so desolate and hopeless. Seems like the Boss felt there was no place left to run. The album is a lo-fi masterpiece however, and while I hold closely to Born To Run and Darkness On The Edge of Town, I think Nebraska stands as one of Springsteen’s best.

The title track and album opener is about the murder spree committed by Charles Starkweather. Delivered at an almost painful whisper, there is a great deal of sympathy in Springsteen’s voice. He’s telling the story of a man and woman driving through the country, leaving what they had behind. Sound familiar? In the sound of “Nebraska” is not just the story of a murderer, but of Bruce Springsteen re-evaluating the vision he has of America. “They wanted to know why I did what I did/Well, sir, I guess there's just a meanness in this world.” Heartbreaking.

“Atlantic City” is a more familiar form for the Boss, as it is a much more linear narrative, but it still comes with the hopelessness of its predecessor. The song is about the early days of legalized gambling in Atlantic City, NJ and the heavy influence that came from the mafia. The song’s protagonist, like many of Springsteen’s characters, is completely disillusioned with the sweat and toil of his life, “tired of comin' out on the losin' end.” He chooses to leave. However, unlike “Thunder Road” or “Born To Run” his choice is to go to Atlantic City on a job for someone in the mob. It’s understood that the end is not going to be a happy one, it’s understood that “everything dies, baby, that’s a fact.” The performance is absolutely perfect. The vocals tell the story of a man pushed to his brink, doing anything he can to get ahead.

The Replacements – Let It Be

1. I Will Dare
2. Favorite Thing

Really, what can someone say about The ‘Mats that hasn’t already been said? Let It Be stands as their most revered recording, a perfect mesh between Paul Westerberg’s growth as a songwriter and the beautifully sloppy sound that marked the bands early sound. Although I prefer my namesake (and I feel like the coming re-mastering of Tommy Ramone’s treble-happy recording will sway people to my side), I think that Let It Be is a fucking masterpiece.

“I Will Dare” probably stands as the track most people associate with the album. The song is a total statement that the band is entering a new phase and it certainly held the attention of anyone living in the St. Louis area in 1990. Catching your attention is Bob Stinson’s low-end lead that really gives the waltz, but it’s Paul that holds us with, in my opinion, one of his best lyrical performances. Of course there is the great circular path given through the “Meet me any place or anywhere or any time” chorus, but I think that the second verse of the song really highlights what a great writer Paul is. “Ain't lost yet, so I gotta be a winner/Fingernails and a cigarette's a lousy dinner” is one of my favorite lines ever, followed by the beautifully effortless “Young, are you? Ooh ooh.” Really, in those couple of lines, the brilliance and reckless carelessness of the Mats is completely symbolized.

Following “I Will Dare” is the lovely, sloppy, “what the hell did he say?” “Favorite Thing.” More akin to what we heard on Hootenanny, the song is also a hell of a pop number. The sequence of the bridge, guitar solos from both Bob and Paul, and that “You! My favorite thing! Favorite thing! Favorite thing! Once and a while” is brilliant. “Favorite Thing” and “I Will Dare” really just stand out as songs that made the Replacements great. Simple. Catchy. Clever. Careless.

Whiskeytown – Pneumonia

1. The Ballad Of Carol Lynn
2. Don’t Wanna Know Why

Isn’t it kind of ironic that the first two songs on the last Whiskeytown record are about Ryan Adams being a total asshole? What better way to kick off the record of the band that you’re breaking up because of the fact that you’re a dick than to write two songs about what a dick you are?

Starting with a gentle drum fill, Adams’ harmonica and a set of low horns introduce the soulful “Carol Lynn.” This is the first song where we can see that Mr. Adams can fucking belt it out. His delivery is very calculated and fitting to the song as he provides a gentle rasp to the very bluesy soul voice he puts down. The song is a very surreal experience as you have a very beautifully produced recording, filled with some very nicely arranged horns, backing up a guy saying “When you need a friend to be there for you, I won’t be one who will help you out/And when you need someone who can let you in, you can count me out/Oh, Carol Lynn.” But on the other hand, it’s also an absolutely gorgeous song.

While Caitlin Cary’s violin is absent in “Carol Lynn,” its gorgeous descending progression shines in “Don’t Wanna Know Why.” The song is heavily layered with acoustic and electric guitars, mandolin, and piano, but its Cary’s violin line that captures you. Ryan’s gentle vocals serve the song perfectly and Cary’s harmonies break your heart. As the two sing the chorus together, “When I breathe in, breathe out/Carry on, carry out/Try to drive through your life” there is a background track of Cary singing something to the extent of "I wish I could/Try to tell you.." that runs perfectly. Ryan and Caitlin’s mesh together beautifully—to this day I get goose bumps every time I hear them. It’s a beautiful parting for a band that was perfect at times, but as Ryan sings, at this point in his life he “don’t wanna know how, you’re feeling, I don’t care.”

The Lawrence Arms – The Greatest Story Ever Told

1. The Raw And Searing Flesh
2. On with the Show

Although the first track on The Lawrence Arm’s ambitious The Greatest Story Ever Told (a linear story about life in a carnival) is the 26-second "Introduction: The Ramblin' Boys of Pleasure Sing the Hobo Clown Chorus,” the album’s second track and first song is “The Raw and Searing Flesh.” Chris McCaughan’s gentle voice introduces the melodic tune while the band draws out the opening moments with a spaced, open sound. McCaughan sings, “I never want to see you in the raw and searing flesh/I don’t ever want to hear you singing softly to the dead/I never want to feel your skin running warm along my side/I never want to sink that way again/It would be easier to die/To die.” The music breaks and over a sample of the ringleader calling the crowd’s attention, Brendan Kelly’s bass moves from a slow arpeggio to a gorgeous built up. And the band comes out swinging. Chris is in top form as the beautifully melodic tune builds upon his condescending poetry. As the song progresses we see the band move toward the familiar sound that helped establish them as one of Chicago’s premier punk rock bands. Then it stops. Singing softly over a muted guitar, Chris says, “I'm trying hard not to remember
the way the smoke drifts through the air/We'll all be dead come November/four months out of every year” before the song breaks into a gorgeous ending.

As the band fades out, they are met by a cheering crowd until the snap of Neil Hennessy’s snare clears the air for Brendan Kelly to scream “Telephone! Telephone! What did you scream into your telephone? Telephone! What did you scream into your telephone? Telephone!” as the band tears into “On with the Show.” If we are to call “The Raw and Searing Flesh” Chris’ most melodic effort, than “On with the Show” is Brendan’s toughest. Clocking in at 1:29, the song knocks you on your ass as Brendan presents the plight of the album’s protagonist. “I'm a shit stain slave with a grind of my own/I work day and night, less respect than a Juggalo/I'm frying on the outside and frozen in the center/I'm telling you, I'm telling you to watch out for my temper.” The delivery is unrelentingly fierce as the tears through the track, leaving the audience floored and setting up the album with the line “I’m a clown I’m just here to entertain.”

What is unbelievable about these two songs, and what makes them my favorite among the list, is the contrast between the tracks. Paul Westerberg once said that the reason The Replacements were great was because they were able to write a song like “Swingin’ Party” (the sixth track on Tim) and follow it up with a song like “Bastards of Young.” Same rules apply for the Arms, following up a beautifully melodic song with something as ferocious as “On With The Show.”

English Language Essentials