Oh, the woes of being a music journalist.
(Disclaimer: I use the term “music journalist” loosely… This site obviously offers an amazing forum for fans and people with an ability to write to provide commentary on their favorite shows, bands and albums, but despite my state college degree in journalism and the fact that I once staged a brief sit-in in the lobby of Rolling Stone’s New York office because nobody would take my resume, I’m no Ben Fong-Torres. I have a day job.)
Sure, we often get a free ticket to shows that have sold out to the general public. We occasionally (but not at all regularly) get fun perks that make our friends jealous. Mostly though, it’s a thankless job where you’re constantly faced with your own social awkwardness and get ridiculed for being uncool and having bad taste. But, you know, it’s all about the music.
Here I am, sitting at my office computer when I should be filling out expense reports or something, looking through my notes for something to amuse you—the fan, the reader, the person that will confirm that I am, indeed, dorkier than I thought. But I can’t even understand the relevance (let alone the legibility) of my own notes. The Fillmore is dark, and I’m apparently not very good at this.
The highlights (for my own amusement, and hopefully yours too) of things that I obviously wrote but can no longer remember why:
Love the bouncer guy. Long hair, looks just like the guy in Wayne’s World. (He totally does look just like one of Wayne’s producers, by the way.)
JEW bass player looks just like Carson Daly! (What’s with the D-list celebrity references?)
Who smokes weed at an indie show? (Answer: Obviously a lot of people.)
Aurgasm: pleasure from music! (Um, I thought I invented this new word, but it’s already been done: http://aurgasm.us)
And my personal favorite: Singer said something about this being their last show with Ike the vegan pork chop? (Huh?!)
This doesn’t leave me in a very credible place to be writing about last Friday’s Jimmy Eat World show with openers Dear and the Headlights, but let me tell you, I know what I’m doing. You’ll have to take my word for it.
Having never seen Dear and the Headlights, I showed up early to score one of the legendary venue’s choice spots: the railing along the left wall, which provides great views and necessary seating when your poor feet tire of standing in work heels for four hours. For a little band from Phoenix, these guys have opened for some big names, from The Plain White T’s to Dredg to Straylight Run. The band features five guys—Ian Metzger, Robert Cissel, P.J. Waxman, Chuckie Duff and Mark Kulvinskas—who performed in a dizzying array of plaid thrift store shirt and scruffy facial hair. Singer Metzger led the group through a selection of songs from their debut album Small Steps, Heavy Hooves, mostly sweet interludes with minimal instrumentation punctuated by loud, passionate choruses backed by more vocals, more guitar and more rock in general. And while I can’t verify this in my usual manner (I was too far from the setlist to write anything down and honestly couldn’t understand most of the lyrics due to a faulty pair of earplugs), I believe they introduced a few songs off their upcoming release Drunk Like Bible Times, which is set to drop Sept. 30. The music is damn catchy, but in that we’re-cool-hipsters-who-don’t-want-to-be-catchy indie rock sort of way. Case in point: someone in the audience yelled, “You guys rock!” And the singer answered, “I’ll prove to you right now that we don’t” before busting into some serious thrash metal-worthy tambourine breakdowns. Awesome.
And Jimmy Eat World always gets me going. They’re one of those bands that remind me of being 19 and idealistic and in love (that mixtape would also include The New Amsterdams, a little Green Day and some embarrassingly poppy punk rock), mainly because that’s when I first got Clarity, and my college roommate and I played it to death. I’m also continuously impressed that they continue to put out good albums, even as they’ve become more mainstream, unlike some others I could mention (*cough* Weezer *cough*).
The fellow Arizonians—Jim Adkins, Tom Linton, Rick Burch and Zach Lind—pretty thoroughly covered their discography, from “Work” on Futures to “Get It Faster” on Bleed American to recent album Chase This Light’s “Big Casino.” Luckily for me, they even rocked through “Blister” and “Crush” from Clarity, a couple of my favorites. All four of them took advantage of The Fillmore’s spacious stage, jumping around and, in the case of Adkins, sweating to the point of ridiculousness by the end. The lighting was dramatic, with bright hues reflecting off the giant white polka dots that covered the wall behind the stage, and total darkness often between songs. I felt an odd sense of pride sitting there. They put on such a good show, show such gratitude and happiness, that they’ve only gotten better in the five or six years since I saw them last.
So I’ve managed to distill eight pages of notes, in my very official “reporter’s” notebook, down to a mediocre review of what was a great show. Maybe I should consider another hobby…
Artists:
www.jimmyeatworld.com / myspace.com/jimmyeatworld
www.dearandtheheadlights.com / myspace.com/dearandtheheadlights
Album:
Jimmy Eat World – Chase This Light is available now. Buy it on Amazon.
