Lord knows I tried to line up an interview with Clap Your Hands, Say Yeah, but my requests went unreturned. Alas, my only experience with this band is seeing their performance on The Conan O'Brien show (It was gawdawful) and hearing their one track on the One Percent Productions website juke box -- not exactly earth shaking, hardly innovative, but it has a beat and you can dance to it. I get the feeling that the youth crowd that's eating these guys up have never heard New Order or The Feelies before. And I guess if you were 16 or 17 and grew up only on Omaha radio, you'd think they were groundbreaking. And you'd sell out their show weeks in advance, as this show has been. More interesting than CYHSY is opening band The Brunettes. If you missed it the first time, here's the review of Mars Loves Venus that I put on the site last July.

Tomorrow night, One Percent is doing three shows at the same time -- Three! Ah, but they hardly compete with each other (except, maybe for parking). Downstairs at Sokol Underground it's Little Brazil, Race for Titles, The Cops and Le Beat -- four hot bands for a mere $7. Starts at 9 p.m. Get there early. Meanwhile, upstairs at Sokol Auditorium, it's the glorious return of Blue October for a sold-out show. I've seen Blue October before. They're horrible. Their cheesy live performance is only eclipsed by their painfully bad CDs, released on Universal. That said, they've got a huge following thanks to lots of local radio support. So when you go down to see the good show tomorrow night, make sure to address your curses at The River when you can't find a parking space. Finally, at Duffy's in Lincoln Saturday night it's Tapes 'n' Tapes, Eagle*Seagull and Kite Pilot, all for a mere $5.

Duffy's is the place to be Sunday for a homecoming show of sorts -- former Lincolnites (now Brooklynites) Ron Albertson and Pat Noeker's new band n0 things are playing, along with Knife Skills and Ideal Cleaners. Ron (formerly of Mercy Rule) and Pat (formerly of Opium Taylor) also used to be the rhythm section of The Liars before they got screwed by the other half of that band. Check out their myspace account. If you miss them on Sunday, they'll also be playing at O'Leaver's with The Lepers on April 4.

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--

Column 70: A Label of Love
Mt. Fuji Records' difficult climb.

Before we get started, if you haven't done it already, flip over to page __ and read Sarah Wilson's lovely profile of Mike Jaworski's band, The Cops. We'll wait for you (*twiddles thumbs; patiently glances at his watch*). (Note: I'll be adding a link to Sarah's story as soon as the webmaster at The Reader gets off his ass and gets the story online).

Done reading? Good. Aren't you happy you did? Having lived for the past few months with The Cops' debut LP, Get Good or Stay Bad, I was eager to interview frontman Jaworski -- or just "Jaws" as he's known throughout the local music community. Not only about his band, but about his record label, Mt. Fuji.

Jaws started Mt. Fuji back in '02 for the same reason most musicians start labels -- to give his band at the time, Hello from Waveland, a platform to release their music. The label's name, by the way, is a shout-out to Jaworski's Omaha roots. "When I was in high school at Prep, I must have driven by the Mt. Fuji Inn a million times," he said. "I always thought that logo looked cool and exotic." He forgot to mention the restaurant's multi-colored libations, the quality of which I can attest to personally (though it's been too long since I've been to the Mai Tai Lounge).

The difference between Mt. Fuji and the run-of-the-mill vanity label is, of course, distribution. You can find Mt. Fuji records in stores all over the country, thanks to their deal with Redeye -- the same outfit that distributes records for labels like Yep Rock, Gern Blandsten, Flameshovel, Parasol and GSL. Landing a "distro deal" is the biggest hurdle for any new label, let alone one as small as Fuji, so how did Jaworski do it? He used the time-tested combination of booze and old-fashioned salesmanship.

"I knew the president of the company, Tor Hansen, from my record store connections," said Jaworski, who also works at Sonic Boom Records in Seattle. "I took him out, got him drunk and sold him on what we were doing."

One "sell point" was having the band Little Brazil on the roster. With LB comes ties to Saddle Creek Records in the form of frontman Landon Hedges' past service in The Good Life and Desaparecidos. "I also told him that every band I work with on the label is dedicated to touring. We want our bands on the road at least four months a year. It's the only way to create a fan base."

Touring is an absolute essential for any band that wants more than twice-monthly gigs at the local bar, Jaws said. "It's fun to knock around town and play music and sell CDs to your friends," he said. "But without touring, you have to be realistic about your goals. You aren't going to get 'discovered' though your Myspace account."

Little Brazil is living proof of Jaws' theory. Landon and company -- who have spent more time on the road than any other band on the roster -- also are the label's best sellers. Imagine how well recent Mt. Fuji recruit Slender Means will do once they start serious touring. They've already sold more than 1,000 copies of their debut in Seattle alone. LA band Wintergreen is the label's most recent signing. Jaws said their new EP, which came out on Mt. Fuji in January, was compared to Death Cab for Cutie and The Smiths in an upcoming issue of The Big Takeover.

Add The Cops to the list and you've got a solid little line-up for having been in operation for four years. But the operative word here is "little." Jaworski isn't interested in putting out records for the sake of putting out records. He's content with slow, steady growth -- maybe adding one band per year. "I want to keep it small and focused, and take sort of a communal approach," he said. "These bands are not only friends with one another, but believe in each other musically."

Sound familiar? Jaws points to Saddle Creek Records as a model for his label. And just like Creek, Mt. Fuji pulled its bands together last week in Austin for a couple showcases in conjunction with the South By Southwest music festival. But unlike Creek's showcase, Fuji's weren't "officially sanctioned" by the illustrious SXSW organization. Like dozens (maybe hundreds?) of other bands and labels, Jaworski bypassed the bureaucracy and organized his own day-long party at a lawn and garden shop called Big Red Sun, located off 6th St. A second Mt. Fuji showcase was held at The Longbranch Inn. Both were well-attended. "Sometimes the parties are better than the event -- you don't need a wrist-band to get in, there's no line, there's free beer, and the environment is more laid-back."

Sound like fun? Maybe, but for Jaworski the weekend was mostly work. Such is the life of an independent record label owner and musician who has yet to see the financial rewards for all his work. But he ain't complaining, at least not much.

"It's definitely a labor of love," he said. "I would like to see it become a profitable business. It's been funded by credit cards from day one. I don't recommend anyone start a label that way."

Which forces me to end this column with this cheesy line:

Guitar picks: $2.95
Used Econoline van: $2,000
Bail money for incarcerated band: $5,000
Living the life of a music mogul: Priceless

The fun folks over at Pitchfork posted a nice little interview with Tim Kasher yesterday, where he talks about the upcoming Cursive album and mentions that a Good Life album also is in the works (read it here). Titled Happy Hollow (well, at least us Omaha folks got the joke), the new Cursive disc apparently will be rife with horns. Sounds like fun to me. Hmm... let's see... Saddle Creek, Happy Hollow, can Bob Boozer Drive be far off? How 'bout L St.?

The Pitchfork piece also mentions the upcoming Cursive split with The Cops, which Cops frontman and Mt. Fuji Records executive Mike Jaworski mentioned during an interview we did last week for a column about his label that will be online here tomorrow. See you then...

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--

Recently spotted on the web:

-- Drowned in Sound does a nice, long interview with Nik Zinner (a.k.a. Edward Sissorhands) of Yeah Yeah Yeahs (read it here), where Nik invents a new word. He's discussing the All Tomorrow's Parties festival, which the Yeahs were asked to curate a day, along with Devandra Banhart. The writer comments about the festival's performers. "DiS: What's ridiculous, really, is that any one of those bands could easily curate a day themselves, such is their level of recognition. Zinner: Yeah, absolutely. We have to leave on the Sunday, though, but I don't know that many people that he (Devandra Banhart) has selected. They're all beardos." Beardos!

-- Criteria get dissed roundly in this review in the MSU State News, with the headline Criteria Lags with Dark, Whiny Style. "To get right down to it: Criteria sounds like a bunch of suburban boys finding an alternative to working for 'The Man.'" Uh, isn't that the motivation for most bands these days? Notable for being one of the first outright negative review of the CD, which came out last year.

-- Speaking of Criteria, Aversion reports the boys had some van troubles (read it here). And they gave WWB 4 out of 5 stars (here).

-- Pop Matters has a super-long interview/profile with Two Gallants (read it here). Adam Stephens doesn't like his band compared to Dylan and The Beatles, which, of course, they sound nothing like in the first place. "Not only is it lazy journalism, I think it is uneducated journalism. Mentioning Bob Dylan or the Beatles in the context of modern music is redundant. Of course the influence is there. It's like pointing out Thomas Edison's influence on a well-lit room. The only reason people say it with us more often is because our songs might have a bit of content. But, we don't really like to describe our music with words either. Not like what we do is beyond description, but we just try to avoid the undertaking whenever possible. Whenever people describe bands, it's always a litany of other bands. Sometimes that works, and some might think it works with us. I don't. We just try to stay away from it altogether." Wonder what he thinks of my description: "...rousing ship-galley sea-shanty ballads on meth." Probably not much.

-- Personal writing hero/mentor/guru Robert Christgau has posted another in his series of Consumer Guide CD review round-ups (read it here). He likes the new Arctic Monkeys (They sound like not knowing the doorman, like moving on a girl you think isn't pretty enough, like missing the bus in a leather jacket that doesn't keep out the cold.), hates Editors (Someone should tell him about the Human League.). Editors, by the way, don't just rip off Interpol (who ripped off Joy Division) they mug them in broad daylight.

-- Finally, there's been enormous coverage of last week's 'Bring 'em Home Now' concert, and Bright Eyes is consistently singled out as one of the evening's highlights, including in this New York Times piece. "But as pure protest, a quintet version of Bright Eyes, the ever-changing band led by Conor Oberst, hit the hardest of the night." Strangely, the next day, NYT Creek cheerleader Kelefa Sannah filed this story, where he calls out Oberst: "...in one sense: Mr. Oberst's best political songs are full of ambivalence and confusion, not unshakable defiance." Make up your minds, dammit.

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--

I generally try to get live reviews online the morning after the show, but I was pressed this weekend for other things and never had a chance. That said, I did go out both Friday and Saturday nights. Here's what happened:

Friday was Edith Frost/The Zincs down at Sokol Underground. What a disappointing turnout. I was one of around 40 people there. The Underground never seemed so empty. One guy I talked to wanted to leave because he was so embarrassed by the whole thing. Why wasn't this show at O'Leaver's? Maybe because the promoters understandably thought that bands of this quality would bring out throngs of Omaha music fans that can differentiate between good music and schlock (Note, Pomoroy was playing upstairs in the Auditorium). I guess they were wrong.

I missed the opener, McCarthy Trenching, but caught most of The Zincs' set -- very earthy, very moody rock with a frontman who's voice was low and smoky. It's the kind of band that you could imagine breaking through the indie-rock glass ceiling to bigger things. Very cool.

Then Edith was up. Backed by members of The Zincs, she uncorked a nice set of songs from her new album along with plenty of older material. Though generally twangier, her music reminds me a lot of Liz Phair, the difference being that Edith can actually sing. She didn't seem to mind playing to a mostly empty room. Maybe it was the lack of people or the distraction of the UConn game on TV at the bar, but I never locked into her performance, as good as it was.

Saturday night was Western Electric at O'Leaver's, along with The Pendrakes. Very packed house. O'Leaver's is now packed just about any night they have a band (but you have to keep that in perspective -- packed for O'Leaver's means 60 to 75 people -- the Edith Frost show would have seemed packed in there). I showed up just in time to catch the last couple of Pendrakes songs, which sounded like generic pop-punk to me. I need to see a whole set to make any judgments. Western Electric, fronted by Scott Roth (of Such Sweet Thunder fame) has only been playing together six months. You wouldn't have known it by listening to them. They had the presence and sound of a veteran rock band. Yeah, they're twangy... sort of. But their style is closer to classic chug-a-lug Americana bar stomp rock (think Anonymous American for comparisons). One guy in back said they reminded him of Jeff Tweedy. I didn't hear it. And while the band was amazingly tight, it was Roth that was impossible to ignore -- he has a '90s grunge croon that recalls Pearl Jam or the dozens of bands that aped Pearl Jam back then -- a style fans of Such Sweet Thunder will immediately recognize and remember. They played a long set for never having recorded a CD. Roth said they're currently in the process of recording some of their material, and to look for some more gigs in the near future.

Tonight, Reggie and the Full Effect with Fluxuation and Common Denominator at Sokol Underground. Reggie's on Vagrant. Used to be that was all you needed to say and you knew what you were in for. But now The Hold Steady is on Vagrant, and that's thrown everything out of whack. I guess now I have to say Reggie sounds like old-school Vagrant. You know what I mean. $12, 9 p.m.

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--

In the wake of The Faint news, I received a few comments from people who were just as surprised by the news that the Slowdown business/entertainment project was slated to begin construction this week. Well, looking outside my office window from 1400 Douglas I watched as a big steam-shovel-type piece of equipment dug a large hole in the southern portion of the Slowdown property. Construction has indeed begun. I was getting pretty worried there for awhile that barriers put up by various bureaucratic entities were going to quash the entire project. Can they race against the clock and get it finished by the end of the year or will another of my predictions for '06 become a reality? I'll keep you updated as construction progresses, and might even post a few snapshots.

The weekend starts off with a bang tonight as Edith Frost takes the Sokol Underground stage with The Zincs and McCarthy Trenching. I'm guessing last night's Two Gallants show was either a sell-out or damn close (I didn't go, so anyone with data, please post on the webboard posthaste). Tonight could be a different story. Frost has a rep for being a sad-sack singer/songwriter, yet the last time she came through, she most definitely brought the rock (think Throwing Muses/Belly). I've got a feeling tonight will be no different. The Zincs play cool, laid-back indie rock with a frontman who sounds like a cross between Nick Drake and David Bowie. And opener Dan McCartney has become one of the area's must-see singer-songwriters. A terrific show for $8. Starts at 9 p.m.

Tomorrow night brings the return of Scott Roth (Such Sweet Thunder) and his new band, Western Electric, at O'Leaver's. In addition to Roth, the band includes John and Jerry Stevens (Hanna's Porch, Gauge, Box, Hong Gyn Corp, Midwest Dilemma) and Scott Petersen (Four Corners). Roth described the new sound as "more electric than western, but there are some twangy elements that round out the sound." Veeery interesting. The Pendrakes are the openers. $5, 9 p.m.

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--

Lazy-i: I think your music is sad and beautiful, simple and honest, and your voice is gorgeous and very easy to fall for. Your songs remind me of Aimee Mann or Liz Phair. Do you think Liz sold out on her last couple albums? Would you consider doing that if the money was there?

Edith: I'm not Liz Phair, I wouldn't be able to follow her same path. I have no problem with what she's done with her career... it's not a way I would want to go myself exactly, but that's cool, we're both doing our thing and making the kind of music we want to make. As a formerly huge fan I'd rather see her out there and continuing to make music even if it's currently not my cuppa tea stylistically. There's always hope.

Lazy-I: Speaking of song writing, I read somewhere that you're suffering from writer's block, or that you're just having a difficult time writing new material. Is that true, and is it a cause of worry for you? Do you need a muse? Are you trying to put together a new album?

Edith: I don't know where you're reading these things. I write songs when I'm in songwriting mode; I'm not in that mode right now. Actually I am writing things down and coming up with some ideas but I'm not in any rush get them demo'ed. Right now I'm in *touring* mode, I'm promoting the album that just came out. I'm not going to worry about the next job until I'm done with this one... should be done with touring by summer so that's when I'll hopefully get crackin' on new demos.

Lazy-I: What do you think of Omaha?

Edith: I need to get to know 'er better I guess. I've never hung out there at all, just played a couple of shows, blew in and blew out... the audiences have always been really cool though, that's for sure! Good audience = good show, for me and for them.

Column 69 -- Not for The Faint of Heart
Is one of Saddle Creek's biggest bands flying the coop?

Omaha is a very small town. And once a rumor gets traction -- any traction -- there's no slowing it down. We are a species of gossips and information whores, constantly on the look-out for hot scoop (or poop, in some cases). Information isn't power in Omaha, information is the new smack that forces those locked in the music scene to stumble around for their next fix.

There was plenty of smack on the streets last weekend in the form of a rumor that The Faint, one of the holy triad of Saddle Creek Records' bands, is leaving their home-town label for greener pastures. Specifically pastures fed and watered by hip-hop guru and professional turn-around artist Rick Rubin.

I could not grab a beer at any bar without someone leaning in and whispering, "I've got a lu-lu. But you didn't hear it from me," then saying that The Faint are not only sniffing around, but have already signed a deal with American Recordings and are flying Rubin to Omaha in a silver dart to begin recording sessions post haste at The Faint's swank new rehearsal space.

It wasn't exactly fresh news. I had heard about it five weeks ago, maybe more. A well-connected deep throat sent me an e-mail with a single sentence: "The Faint are leaving Saddle Creek." It sounded like shit to me. The band has been solid all around with the label from day one; no one's held up the Saddle Creek banner higher. Whenever it came press time, the Baechle brothers were always first in line with a faithful quote. "Why would we leave when we got it so good here? You think we're stupid?"

But my source had never been wrong. Never. Every bit of info no matter how lame-brained always proved solid. Even when I thought it was pure cockamamie, asking around always came up diamonds. But this seemed too big.

I immediately asked Creek about the rumor, but got zilch back on the record. Weeks went by with nothing new from the grapevine. Deep Throat was swollen shut. Then out of the blue a week ago, I got another tip from a different source. Same story. More details. This time Rick Rubin was mentioned by name along with his record label, American Recordings, home of Johnny Cash, Neil Diamond and Slayer. By last weekend it was all over the streets; it was just a matter of time until I'd read it in the World-Herald, until it was old news.

Calls and e-mail to a member of The Faint went unreturned. No surprise there. So I tried Saddle Creek again, figuring label executives Robb Nansel and Jason Kulbel would be too busy schmoozing at South by Southwest to reply. Lo and behold, Nansel clarified the rumor. "They have not signed anything with American," he wrote in an e-mail. "Not sure if they will. They are still talking to them, but that is all at this point."

Nansel went on to write that Rubin has indeed expressed interest in working on the band's new record, "but I don't know that he ever expressed doing that in Omaha, let alone at their space."

What's in it for Saddle Creek? One story had it that negotiations were under way to compensate the label for its years of support, promotion, and all the other benefits. Apparently not.

"We are not negotiating any compensation with the band," Nansel wrote. "We have briefly discussed different ways we could/could not be involved with their future records (assuming they don't end up on Saddle Creek). (We) have not come to any agreement on whether we would be involved at all or not."

None of this can be a complete surprise to Nansel or anyone at the label. It's only a matter of time until one of their biggest acts leaves the nest. There are limits to the meaning of the word "loyalty" in the rock and roll business, especially when millions of dollars are at stake. The Faint have had offers before, but always turned them down. Something else must be driving this new level of interest beyond cash.

So, if it's all true, why isn't Nansel pissed? "The possibility of a band leaving has always been there," he wrote. "The bands will ultimately make a well-informed decision about what is in their best interest. We will support their decision regardless of what it is, and hope that all parties are satisfied at the end of the day. Certainly (we) would not be pissed."

But what would it mean if The Faint does leave the label? How would it financially impact Saddle Creek, especially during a time when so much of the label's money is tied up in a new, untried venture -- the Slowdown entertainment complex slated to begin construction this week just a couple blocks west of The Qwest Center? Nansel didn't say. Maybe it's too early to speculate. After all, Elvis hasn't left the building… yet.

An afternoon update today because I was finishing a column about The Faint, which will go online tomorrow morning (and look for an Edith Frost interview/feature Thursday morning).

Not much news today, anyway. In the aftermath of SXSW, sounds like Saddle Creek's Two Gallants made an impression on the masses, at least according to this San Jose Mercury News item. The writer called the band "one of the most exciting and unique acts I've seen this week." Other than that item, coverage of Omaha-related bands at the event was all but nonexistent. On a side note, The AP filed an interesting interview with Barsuk's Josh Rosenfeld, where he talks about the value of the SXSW, underscoring what everyone knows -- no one goes to Austin to sign bands anymore. Those days are long gone.

Underground hip-hop acts P.O.S., Mac Lethal and Sims at Sokol Underground tonight. 9 p.m., $7.

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--

As expected, The Protoculture brought the faithful in droves to last night's show at O'Leaver's despite forecasts of snowy doom, a full house of 75 or so were there to see the legends. And the legends did not disappoint, playing six songs off their upcoming 7-song EP -- almost the whole catalogue of Protoculture tunes. All except "The Hit," as I warmly call their b-side single "My New Laugh," the only Protoculture song with a sing-a-long chorus. Where was it?

They started out nervous and a tad tentative, or so they sounded. By the midway point of their brief set, they were firing on all cylinders. Having never seen them perform before, I had no idea that drummer Koly Walter did most of the singing. He was in good voice, as was co-singer Erica Petersen-Hanton, opening the set with the new material and closing with three songs off the '97 singles that sounded as modern as anything you're going to hear on today's indie charts. The crowd, as you might expect, loved every minute of it. The young lad next to me said this was just the kind of band he would have worshipped had he been kicking around the scene back in the day. I kept turning to him, saying, "They're gonna play their hit next." But it never happened. Afterward I mentioned this to Walter, who said rather quizzically? "That song? That's just a B-side." Maybe so, but it's my favorite of their entire oeuvre. Maybe they'll play it when they open for The Stay Awake and The Bombardment Society at Sokol Underground sometime in April. I've waited seven years to hear "My New Laugh" live, I suppose I can wait a few more weeks.

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--

So the big question is whether or not the Protoculture show is happening tonight. I just talked to the show promoter and he says it's on no matter what. The heavy stuff isn't supposed to start until later tonight -- probably right when the show is going on. It should make for some interesting driving. I'd skip it, but this is The Protoculture, and though they say they'll be playing again soon, who really knows for sure what our future holds?

Nice crowd last night for Ladyfinger and Mr. 1986 at Sokol Underground. My ears are still ringing. Frickin' loud. Ladyfinger was double-barrel hardcore heavy. Throw the bitch out the window mean, but cool like a serial killer up there on stage. Chris and the boys are anything but metal head rock freaks when it comes to stage presence. Machmuller just leans to the mike and does his thing while nonchalantly uncorking a hail of power chords. That's the irony of this band -- they seem like nice guys, but their music is some dark shit, black and negative, psycho angry, rattling around loud and scary like a box of smoking chainsaws. All that time spent recording has done something to this band. Obviously they sound tighter, but they also sound harder, almost weathered. The old songs from their first EP seemed compact and well-planned. The new ones are complete chaos, not as hook-laden as, say "Too Cool for School, " which, in comparison, sounds like a dance song. The groove is still there, it's just more subtle amidst the ensemble's raw power. Did I mention how loud it was?

I only caught three of Mr. 1986's songs seeing as I had to make it down to O'Leaver's to bid farewell to Reader music writer/editor Jeremy Schnitker, who's on his way to Chicago. Good luck in the Windy City, bro. '86 does what it does about as well as anyone could -- huge, cinematic songs that recall Mogwai and God Speed, repeated tonal instrumentals that can explode at any moment. The drums were otherworldly in size and scope, and made the whole thing work. I wonder, however, if what they're doing hasn't become somewhat dated, if they have room to take it a different direction or if they only want to play these throbbing, dynamic symphonies of noise...

If I hear any updates about tonight's show, I'll pass them along right here. Otherwise, I'll see you there...

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--

The Lincoln 5-piece does what Godspeed does with as many as nine or 10 people, albeit on a smaller scale. The idea's the same -- create sprawling, echoing, tonal sound pieces that are theatrical in size and style. These guys do it well. The first tip that we were in for something special was when the band didn't face the crowd, but faced each other -- the guitarist and keyboardist at stage right faced another guitarist and a bass player who stood toward center, focused intently on the drummer. They watched each other as we watched them create haunting, sonic joyrides. Like tonal chamber pieces, the 10- to at times 15-minute ambient overtures often rode on two or three chords that switched at the end of two-bar phrases of 4/4 -- back and forth or back and up and back while the drummer played crisp syncopated rhythms. Guitars added even more rhythms, created effects or took off on their own highly technical though nuanced tangents.

Column 68 -- Dilly Dalleying in Court
A chat with Juror No. 23

There are few things more dull in life than serving on jury duty. You get the letter in the mail. You show up at the appointed time. You sit in a cramped little room filled with the other unlucky few forced to give up two weeks of their lives for the right to vote and drive a car. It's the price you pay for liberty, I suppose. You do your time like a good citizen and if you're lucky, they won't call your number and force you to sit and listen to cheap-suit lawyers argue over whether their client had the right-of-way when the light turned yellow.

So there I was, Juror No. 73, stuck in stuffy Courtroom 20 in the Douglas Co. Courthouse, bored, absently listening as the names were called, when suddenly up walked Juror No. 23. "What is your name and occupation?" asked the bailiff.

I wanted him to say, "My name is Denver Dalley and I'm a ROCK STAR." Instead, the frontman to Omaha indie band Statistics and guitar player for Saddle Creek act Desaparecidos (a band on perpetual hiatus), merely said, "I'm Denver Dalley, and I'm a musician." Dalley sat quietly throughout the vior dire process, looking forlorn in his blue hooded wind-breaker. I don't know how he did it, but when it came time to appoint the final jury, his name was struck from the list and he left the jury box, relieved.

Dalley had arrived in Omaha the morning of the first day's jury proceedings, driving straight from his parents' home in Nashville, where he's been living for the past few months while working on a new recording project called Intramural. More on that later.

Maybe the most interesting news was that Dalley has left Jade Tree Records, the label that took him on in early 2003. The original deal called for releasing one record and two "optionals." With two records out, Denver wanted out of the third, and got out. "When I first signed, there was a lot of personal contact and excitement, then it got to the point where I barely heard from them," Dalley said during one of the few breaks during our court time. "It wasn't the same label that I signed to. I'm not trying to totally trash them, but I really didn't want to work with them anymore."

Jade Tree had been offered the Intramural project, but was confused at the concept, which involves Dalley and Nashville partner in crime Sam Shacklock writing and producing tracks that are then sent to other artists for vocal tracks. Upon hearing the initial instrumental tracks, Jade Tree thought the project sounded "unfinished" (Duh!). After they passed, he gave a copy to Slowdance Records label executive Ezra Caraeff. "He immediately heard the potential," Dalley said. "He was stoked."

Shacklock is the son of Abbey Roads Studio producer Alan Shacklock, who's worked with the likes of Roger Daltrey, Jeff Beck and Meatloaf. "When he was doing sessions over there he got a number of outtakes that enabled us to get all these amazing drum samples and string sounds from the London Symphony Orchestra," Dalley said.

But more impressive is the list of artists supplying vocals, including The Long Winters, Minipop, Slender Means, The Pale Pacific, Men Women and Children, Brand New, The Evening Episode, and last but not least, Greg Dulli (Twilight Singers, Afghan Whigs).

While in town, Dalley is working with local filmmakers Nik Fackler and Aaron Gum to develop videos for each song on the album. The final product may be used for an Intramural tour. After he moves to Los Angeles in the coming weeks, Dalley said he plans to ask Dulli if he can film him playing piano at a local dive bar. Very cool… if it happens.

With all but one song mixed, the only thing left is mastering. Dalley said he's shooting for an August release date, which would be followed by an Intramural tour featuring him, Shacklock and a yet-to-be-named drummer. "We'd all be running around doing different things, playing keyboards and playing guitars and stuff," Dalley said.

So what's going on with Statistics? "I'm taking time off, but will come back eventually," Dalley said. "I want to record the next album entirely on my own and take as much time as I need. Right now I'm focused on this new project. I was determined to not tour for a while, but my UK booker really wants me to come over in September."

It was European tours that got Dalley out of two other requests for jury duty. He said he couldn't avoid serving any longer. By the end of our second day, however, it was all over. Neither Juror 23 nor 73 was ever called, and both were excused. I know I can speak for Dalley when I say how proud we are to have performed our civic duty.

God bless America.

The Nein is The White Octave without Criteria's Stephen Pedersen (who was in the audience cheering on his former comrades). With a new CD out on Sonic Unyon, the band carried itself like seasoned indie rock veterans, playing tunes that sounded like typical angular indie rock with a hook. The lead singer/guitarist has a voice that (when you could hear it in the poor mix) was reminiscent of a young, gritty Elvis Costello -- a comparison that will seem out of the blue for these guys who would probably prefer to be compared to the usual suspects (Gang of Four, Pixies, etc.). Their music, of course, sounded nothing like Costello's. Overall, I guess I liked it, though we've all heard these songs before in one form or another. I think if they pulled it back they'd be better for it. That said, the CD is a keeper and worth finding.

Some notes from last night's show at O'Leaver's…

Slender Means is a hard band to put your finger on. The five-piece from Seattle features a solid rhythm section and a frontman with a voice that's just this side of Morrissey, but ballsier, more masculine, almost brassy. A good voice. Almost too good for the relatively straight-up adult-sounding pop music that they play. The guy next to me (who knows more about music than I ever will) said they reminded him of Greg Kihn or The Plimsoles or Graham Parker. They reminded me of Semisonic or Jonathan Richman, but not really. The only similarity to those bands is their ability to make smooth, balanced pop music. In fact, if they have a flaw it's that, other than the frontman's sonorous voice (and the sweet harmony vocals), nothing stands out about them. Sure, they're first-rate musicians, but their songs lack a certain distinction that makes them stand out from the crowd. Does that really matter? Probably not to most people. But in this world where there seems to be 2 million bands with myspace accounts, having a quality that's obvious and distinguishable is a must. Slender Means is a good band in search of an identity, and when they find it, look out.

When it comes to identity, Landing on the Moon has it in spades -- three vocalists including an intense woman keyboard player, a dynamic over-the-top drummer and a bigger-than-life guitarist who wears his soul on his sleeve. They take chances with styles and dynamics, merging sprawling, poignant album rock with modern, quirky, post-rock tendencies. Whether you like them or not (and certainly those looking for standard-ish jangle-pop indie probably won't), you have to admire their bravado in playing a style of music -- with honesty and determination -- that no other bands are even attempting around here.

By the way, you would never have thought it was a Monday night at O'Leaver's. The place was packed like a Saturday night. Something's going on around here, as last weekend seems to indicate. Everyone's talking about Saturday night, where there were five shows/events simultaneously -- Jenny Lewis at the Scottish Rite, Criteria at Sokol Underground, RFT at The 49'r, The Terminals at O'Leaver's and The Groundhog Prom (wherever that was) -- and all were either sell-outs or capacity-only events. It was a landmark weekend, and after a break for St. Paddy's day, the following weekend should be just as busy. We live in a music town, folks. Forget about Austin.

Tomorrow, here, Pink Mountaintops.

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A long weekend of shows isn't over yet. If you haven't tuned into the site for the past few days, scroll down and check out a couple live reviews. I didn't make it to the Of Montreal show last night unfortunately. If you were there, let us know how it was on the board. Too many deadlines, including for a piece on Pink Mountaintops (online Wednesday) and a column with a judicial slant involving Denver Dalley (online Thursday). It's always something...

Tonight at O'Leaver's, Slender Means with Landing on the Moon and Le Beat. Slender Means records on Mt. Fuji Records, the Seattle label owned and operated by Omaha native Mike Jaworski, whose bands also include Little Brazil, Jaworski's own The Cops, and recent signing, LA-based Wintergreen. SXSW-ers can check out the roster at a couple showcase events around Austin next weekend. Details are on the Mt. Fuji site. Tonight's show: 9:30, $5.

Also tonight, for all y'all on the hip-hop tip, a member of the Wu Tang clan is in the house. Ghostface Killah will be on the mike down at Sokol Underground with M-1 of Dead Prez and Omaha's own Surreal the MC. $20, 9 p.m.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to my brackets... what do you got for Kentucky/UAB?

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--

One of the reasons I went to the Jenny Lewis show last night was to get a gander at the Scottish Rite Hall where the concert was held. I'd heard it was nice, but come on… it's really nice. It's downright gorgeous. And the bathrooms! It could become Omaha's version of Lawrence's Liberty Hall, except that it's a lot smaller. To think I've been driving past that place for years never knowing that there was a old-fashioned theater stage inside. Anyway… we got there early and took a pair of seat in the balcony, foregoing the main floor. I'm happy we did, but more on that later.

The show started rather unremarkably with opening act Whispertown 2000. The LA-based four-piece are pals of Lewis', having released a split single with her. Yikes, they were horrible. The band consisted of frontwoman/guitarist Morgan Nagler, a wedding-dressed tambourine shaker/harmony vocalist, a bass player and a guy on electric guitar. Nagler's voice is sort of Ricki Lee Jones-esque when it isn't completely off pitch. When Miss Wedding Dress joined in on harmonies, dogs from a five-mile radius could be heard howling in pain and fear. Particularly cringe-worthy was a butchering of Gillian Welch's "Look at Miss Ohio" and an a cappella number where the guys snapped fingers alongside the girls -- real high school talent-show stuff. Ah, but the crowd loved 'em… maybe because they were so cute, unsophisticated and obviously lacking in talent.

After that low-point, however, things took a decided turn for the better with Jonathan Rice. I guarantee that in five years you'll be seeing this guy on one of the late-night chat shows, and turn to whoever is lying next to you and say, "I saw that guy when he was just a kid open for Jenny Lewis" (Rilo Kiley having long been broken up). He reminded me of a young Jackson Browne, but without the broken-hearted lyrics. With acoustic guitar in hand and accompanied by a guy on pedal steel, Rice played a quiet, upbeat set that included a sing-a-long and a cover of Neva Dinova's "Poison" from the Neva/Bright Eyes split EP. In addition to being musically talented, Rice is quick-witted, with some funny between-song patter.

Then came the headliners -- Lewis and the Watson Twins. What to say about those twins… they're kind of creepy and kitschy, with their matching black cocktail dresses, '70s-era feathered LA hairstyles and mirrored do-what-I-do poses, it felt like something out of a David Lynch movie. There's no denying their vocal talents, they brought a whole new layer of sound to the ensemble, which included Rice, his pedal-steel player (doubling on keyboards), a bass player and Rilo Kiley's Jason Boesel on drums. I only wish the twins had been used more during the set. They spent most of their time standing side-by-side with their arms behind their backs, or adding bits of percussion (one song featured the two of them tapping rocks together).

The set began with the band on stage and Lewis and the twins entering from stage right singing "Run Devil Run" before launching into "The Big Guns." And here's where I'll add that note about the Scottish Rite Hall -- there is a wide space between the stage and the first row of chairs where about 50 people sat on the floor during the first two performances. About 30 seconds into Lewis' first song, the crowd rushed the stage -- everyone stood up and was joined by about 50 others. I couldn't tell from my seat in the balcony, but I assume everyone on the main floor (or at least most of the first few rows) stood up for the entire set, as there would be nothing to see seated except for a lot of blue-jeaned asses. Hey, this is a rock show -- what did they expect?

Lewis' entire set was twangier than her album (which, to me, sounds borderline Azure Ray). With those twins out front, the whole thing had a revival-tent flair, helped along by a crowd that was eager to testify. I half-way expected the twins to yell "Praise Him!" between songs. Lewis' voice has always been first-rate, like listening to an indie version of Loretta or Patsy. "Rise Up With Fists!!!," with its classic Van Morrison-style chorus, was made to be played your local Smooth FM radio station, and probably will wind up there eventually. The main set ended with a Boesel drum solo (this is the second drum solo I've heard at an indie show in a month, let's hope this isn't the beginning of a trend). Lewis came back out a few minutes later and did a solo number before being joined by the twins for another a cappella song and finally the whole band for one song. All in all, a nice set by one of tomorrow's radio stars. If she isn't already, Lewis is bound to become the biggest act on Oberst's Team Love label (besides Bright Eyes, of course), and could spur another C&W revival among the indie set -- God help us all.

Tonight at Sokol Underground -- Of Montreal. I was afraid that this show was being overlooked, but the promoters tell me that ticket sales have been brisk. With only one opening band, it could even be a early evening. $10, 9 p.m.

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Weak draw last night for Ester Drang. I guess I shouldn't be surprised. With a weekend full of shows, people have to pick and choose carefully, and something has to lose. So there I was with about 30 people watching one of the better sets I've seen down at Sokol in quite a while. Ester Drang managed to do something that few bands do well. They used electronics to replicate the strings and horns on their CD in a way that didn't sound cheesy or made-up. The mix blended the prerecorded orchestra tracks via Powerbook seamlessly with the live musicians, which included one guy who switched between keyboards and guitar throughout songs without missing a beat. The result was a lush, earthy, atmospheric sound that would make any Radiohead, Coldplay or Roxy Music fan nod in appreciation. The other thing they pulled off was effectively using AV equipment. How many times have you seen bands project video on a whitescreen during their performance only to distract or confuse the audience? Not with these guys, probably because a band with this much cinematic flair in their music has to live, eat and breathe the movies. Their footage appeared to be entirely drawn from film -- not digitally created on the Mac. All black-and-white, the images subtly supported every nuance heard on stage. The genius moment was when they used footage from High Noon -- cropped scenes of a self-conscious Gary Cooper looking stern and unafraid -- to enhance their spiraling, dustbowl epic "Hooker with a Heart of Gold." Inspired. Though they sounded remarkable, the four-piece didn't look like they were having a very good time up there, never once cracking a smile. Or maybe that's just their style.

Tonight: Jenny Lewis and the Watson Twins at The Scottish Rite Hall. This is a sold-out, general admission "sit-down" show, and I'm told that if you, in fact, want to get a seat you better get there relatively early or else you'll be forced to stand in a small area in front of the stage (which, to be honest with you, sounds like the place I'd want to be anyway). Parking could be a challenge as the Omaha Press Club is having their annual grid-iron show at The Rose tonight. There should be a parking garage open nearby if you can't find a place to park on the street. The hall is located at 202 S. 20th St. (20th & Douglas). The show starts at 8 p.m. and is sold out. So for those who didn't get tickets, keep driving south to Sokol Underground where Criteria is playing tonight with Thunderbirds Are Now! and Rahim. $7. And I forgot to mention yesterday that there's also a show at O'Leaver's tonight: The Terminals and The Blind Shake. For whatever reason, the O'Leaver's myspace site says this one starts at 8 p.m. (The usual start time is 9:30).

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--

I've heard they're all the rage down in Lawrence. I was told last night that a certain Omaha record label had looked long and hard at them a year or so ago, but missed out to Jagjaguwar. I can see why they'd be interested. To me, The Minus Story sounded like a slightly more indie version of Now It's Overhead, probably because vocalist Jordan Geiger has the same nasal high-end delivery as Andy LeMaster. Their opening song was a bit of a dud, but they only got better as their set went on. I'm a bit reticent about saying more because I wasn't really in the mood for their style of dreamy/indie/pseudo-psychedelic rock, or maybe I'm just getting tired of the drone. They're probably better than I give them credit for (Hey, Jagjaguwar doesn't sign slouches).

Oakland's The Heavenly States, an upbeat 4-piece ensemble that prominently features violin on most songs, were unbelievably entertaining. If pushed for comparisons, Spoon or Dismemberment Plan comes to mind, but neither really fits. Leader Ted Nesseth plays a left-handed guitar and sports a wicked phrase (for whatever reason, his vocal phrasing sometimes reminded me of Phil Lynott). His between-song patter is also some of the funniest stuff I've ever heard on stage. The motor behind their sound, however, is their rhythm section anchored by Jeremy Gagon on drums, a veritable dynamo that keeps it simple and keeps it moving. Violinist/keyboardist Genevieve Gagon blew me away as well. I picked up a copy of their new CD, Black Comet, and while the songs were just as good, the mix sounded muddy and unfocused -- it just didn't pop from my speakers the way this band popped from the stage.

Column 67: My New Laugh
The Protoculture are back

It was 1997 or '98, I don't remember which, but it was definitely one of those times when Omaha's music scene was curving downward oh so slightly. A number of good bands had broken up or simply quit. Nothing interesting seemed on the horizon. Not yet.

So I made my usual trek down to the Antiquarium to see Dave Sink. I could always count on Dave to load me up with hope in the form of amazing records that I wouldn't have heard otherwise. It was Dave that introduced me to Mousetrap. It was Dave that explained Simon Joyner. It was Dave that slid a copy of his Frontier Trust 7-inch into my record pile.

Things were different this time around, though. Dave didn't have much to recommend. "It all sounds like crap to me," he said, clearly uninspired by the latest efforts, be they from Omaha or points far away. "Except for this."

He handed me a 7-inch with a black and white sleeve by a band called The Protoculture. "You may want to check these guys out," he said. And so, I took the record home and played it. And played it and played it.

The single, "Driving a Stolen Car on a Borrowed Road" b/w "My New Laugh" was a revelation. The sound combined the ominous detached pop of early Talking Heads with the tense, post-hardcore posture of Fugazi and the volatile dissonance of Polvo. At the chorus (if you can call it that) three angry voices screamed "My new laugh will kill your smile." Pure genius.

I was writing about music for one publication or other at the time, and realized I'd found the next band that I wanted to write about. So I called Dave, asking how I could get in touch with The Protoculture. "You're too late," he said. "They're done."

I never got to see them play live. And from the sound of it, not too many others did, either. But that's about to change. The original line-up of Clayton Petersen, guitars/vocals; little sister Erica Petersen, bass/vocals, and Koly Walter, drums/vocals, are at it again. Last weekend I finally got my interview with the band over coffee at The Blue Line. I had my copy of the 7-inch in hand, and told them what a poppy, angsty, angular masterpiece it was. They just smiled.

One of the reasons The Protoculture called it quits in the summer of '98 was that they weren't feeling the love, from anyone. "We never realized people actually liked us," Walter said. "We had shows at The Cog Factory and we played with The Faint at Sokol, and no one showed up, maybe because when we moved to Omaha, we didn't know anyone."

The band formed in '96 in Kearney, where all three attended college. They moved to Omaha a year later and tried to establish themselves playing with bands like Bright Eyes, Opium Taylor and Simon Joyner. In the end, though, they never drew a following. A year later, and it was over. Clayton got married and wound up working as a financial analyst at First National Bank, where he is today. Walter said after the breakup he spent months in solitude, working at M.J. Java and reading Russian novels until he landed a gig at McMillan Magnet school doing what he still does today -- teaching 7th Grade World Cultures. Erica also fell into seclusion. Turning down an offer to join The Faint, she focused on playing guitar and performing music solo. She eventually joined Son, Ambulance, and later, formed Kite Pilot with the guy who would become her husband, Todd Hanton.

And that would have been the end of the story, except that in the middle of their brief two-year history The Protoculture got together with A.J. Mogis at Whoop Ass Studio in Lincoln and recorded five songs. Two would end up on that single I bought from Dave Sink, followed a few months later by another self-released single, "Cloud Named Girl" b/w "Condescendence."

A copy of the first single found its way on Clayton's kids' Fisher-Price record player. "The kids would play the record and sing along to 'My New Laugh,' and I started thinking about those old songs and how we needed to write the final chapter," he said. "I figured we're all here in Omaha. Why not?"

Erica had the same idea, and the two began bombarding Walter with emails at McMillan. Last November they began practicing in Erica's basement. "It all came back with surprising ease," Clayton said.

So did the songwriting. In January, the band recorded three new songs in Erica's basement with husband Todd behind the board. The plan calls for releasing the new material, along with tracks from the two singles and the fifth unreleased song from the Whoop Ass sessions.

And on March 19 at O'Leaver's, after waiting for eight years, I'll finally get to see The Protoculture perform live. I won't be alone. In their absence, the band has become something of a legend among local music followers. I tell them this and can see by the look on their faces that they're not buying it. "At least our parents will be there," Clayton said, "and my wife."

Oh my, are they in for a surprise….

Online here now, a new interview with Ester Drang's James McAlister (read it here). James talks about the band's lush, orchestrated sound, being on Jade Tree, the band's near-fatal van accident, and the live show they're bringing to Sokol Underground this Friday night. There was little from the interview left out of the story. Interestingly, Ester Drang is constantly touted for being from Oklahoma, even by the band itself -- they still call themselves a Tulsa band -- when in fact they've lived in Seattle for a while now. McAlister said there's probably more of a San Francisco influence to their new album than Tulsa considering most of it was recorded there at Tiny Telephone studios. The Oklahoma thing, he said, is a reporter's hook... sound familiar? I will be surprised if the band can pull off their lush sound live as well as McAlister says they will.

The same can be said for the 7-piece Anathallo, which plays tonight at O'Leaver's. I'm listening to Floating World, their latest on Nettwerk, as I type this -- it's big, with tons of keyboards and horns, very theatrical, reminds me a bit of Sufjan Stevens what with its hand claps, foot stomps and multiple harmonies. This could be a very cool show. Get there early. The beautiful acoustic splendor of Lincoln's Tie These Hands (here's their myspace) is opening. $5, 9:30 p.m.

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Sorry for the lack of an update yesterday, I was busy writing an interview with Ester Drang, that'll be online tomorrow, and a column on The Protoculture, that'll be online Thursday. On top of that, I also got a nasty head cold. And on top of that, I have jury duty this week. What other disasters can befall me? I probably wouldn't have written an update yesterday anyway since I didn't have anything to write about. With The Crud slowly creeping over me, I didn't go to any shows last weekend. I hope to god this pestilence has passed by later this week, when we'll all be swallowed up in a tidal wave of shows. Now if you'll excuse me, I have an appointment with a judge... I sure hope they let me listen to my iPod in there...

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The hand-scribbled message on the paper lying next to the cash register said it all: SOLD OUT. As in the room was at capacity. As in as soon as I said my hellos and turned the counter I was met with a wall of humanity. I didn't realize how popular these bands were. I guess a lot of people watch The O.C. Let me start by throwing some roses before I pick up a turd. Rogue Wave was impressive, much better than when I saw them back in January of '05, back when they were just another one of those bands riding the retro tip along with The Shins and New Pornographers and the various Elephant Six projects. They don't sound anything like that anymore (I confess to not having heard their most recent album). They seemed to have evolved into Death Cab for Cutie, but with denser, more haunting (and more interesting) arrangements, not at all what I was expecting.

And maybe it's the fact that I haven't been down to Sokol in a long time -- my ears seemingly having adjusted to the meager PA at O'Leaver's -- but the sound last night was just plain terrific, as good as I've ever heard in that smokey basement. Give credit to the sound guy, but give credit to the bands whose performances were clearly were honed and ready to make the most out of what they had (Christ, the drums from both bands were thunderous). Between sets the roadies set up large parabolic mirrors on stage -- five of them -- just like the ones used in grocery stores and convenient marts to keep an eye on shoplifters. The huge round mirrors mounted on stands were pointed at the crowd and made for an interesting visual (What is it about mirrors that make a room look bigger?). And so, with the stage set and after a prolonged (20 minutes?) break between bands, on came Nada Surf, and what can I say? They sounded good, I guess, but ultimately, well, kind of boring. I like The Weight Is a Gift, their new album, but live, for whatever reason (maybe I just wasn't in the mood; maybe it lacked the record's earnest dynamics), it felt flat. All's I could think of was how much they reminded me of those bands I remembered from the '90s -- bands like Goo Goo Dolls and Soul Asylum and Trip Shakespeare and Matchbox Twenty and maybe, most of all, Gin Blossoms. Don't get me wrong, they were doing what they do as well as they could (though the guitar parts seemed empty, evidence of the overdubs they must have used on their albums to compensate), I just got the feeling I'd heard it before, probably on the radio circa 1995, or on a television commercial circa now.

Moving on…

The weekend's looking a might-bit thin. Tonight, O'Leaver's has folk-rock outfit Goodbye Sunday and The Pendrakes. $5, 9:30 p.m. (Why not?). And that's…it. Nothing stands out for Saturday or Sunday. And maybe that's okay, because next week there are multiple worthy shows every night. Get some sleep, save your money. You'll need it.

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--

Plead as they may, Voxtrot couldn't get them to come on up and dance last night at O'Leaver's. Had nothing to do with the music, which was certainly made for dancing -- poppy and loose, their arrangements were deceptively simple for a five-piece. If you closed your eyes you'd think you were listening to a trio, but there was a second guitarist tucked in the back and a guy that played keyboards here and there. Occasionally bands define themselves by the cover songs they play, or how they play them. Last night Voxtrot covered Talking Heads' "Heaven," a laid-back, shimmering, hangover track that throbs with the same hazy angst felt while driving home alone after a late-night party, one of my favorite Heads' tracks. Voxtrot reinvented it as a peppy back-beat pogo song, kicky and fun-loving house-dance fare. Lite. A perfect analogy for all their music -- hopeful love songs with snappy-patter percussion and shuffle rhythm guitar. Lots of smiles. Fun indie pop that means no harm. Simple. Nothing wrong with that.

Kite Pilot opened sounding as good as ever, though I noticed less trumpet during last night's set. Trumpeter/keyboardist Todd Hanton said that was by design. Fact is, he can't play keyboards and trumpet at the same time. Regardless, he came through with the brass on the back-half of the set, and the band finished with a new song that pop-pop-popped as well as anything from their records. A new guitar player even joined them on a couple songs. No idea if he's a permanent addition or not. If you're kicking yourself for missing them last night, don't worry. They're playing at O'Leaver's again March 19 with The Protoculture (yes, that Protoculture). More on that show in the coming weeks.

Tonight: Nada Surf at Sokol Underground. This should be a good one. NS drummer Ira Elliot said expect to hear most of The Weight Is a Gift as well as songs from their first two albums. "It's a pretty straight-up rock show," he said. "It's been running an hour and a half to two hours long. We cover lots of ground." Two hours? That's arena rock-show length. A lot of people will be there just to see their tour mates, Rogue Wave. Other opener Inara George (daughter of Little Feat's Lowell George) sounds exactly like Suzanne Vega (who I adore). It's gonna be a long night. $12, 9 p.m.

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--

Column 66: Being Alone Together
The art of flying solo.

I was trying to put my finger on why I don't like going to shows at The 49'r and finally figured it out last weekend.

I swung by at around 11 p.m. Saturday night to catch Past Punchy and the Present -- the band I wrote about here last week -- but they started early and I was too late and I only caught the last couple songs of their set (which I dug, by the way. Seek out this band whenever it pops its head out of its rabbit hole). A few minutes after they finished their set, I turned around and left. Total time at the Niner (after paying $5 cover and $5 for beer (with tip)) -- 15 minutes. No, there's nothing wrong with The Niner per se -- in fact, I'm quite fond of the bar. The staff is first-rate, their PA has never sounded better, the vibe is laidback and fun. No, it's something else, something ridiculous.

Look, I knew when I started listening to indie music 20 years ago that going to shows was going to be a problem. The genre is underground by its very nature. Friends who I grew up with listening to Zeppelin and Floyd aren't interested in seeing bands they've never heard on the radio. And though my girlfriend likes indie music (almost) as much as I do, she's physically incapable of staying awake past 11 o'clock (especially on school nights), effectively taking her out of the equation since most indie rock shows don't start until 10. Add it all together and it meant that I had to get used to going to shows alone. It wasn't easy.

There are three activities (not including those defined in the bible as "sins") that just seem strange doing by yourself: Attending movies, eating at fine restaurants, and going to rock shows. Call it the "Loser Syndrome," most people have deep-seated insecurities about being seen at social events without companionship. No one wants to be thought of as being friendless. But chances are, if you love indie music, indie films or adventurous dining, you're gonna have to get over it or suffer a future of cheesy cover bands, knife-kill horror flicks and flavorless chain-restaurant dining.

Let's start with the movies. You want to see "Transamerica" or "The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada" or Film Streams' indie movie of the week at The Joslyn. Your friends want to see "Date Movie" or "Saw VII" or whatever piece of shit Julia Roberts is starring in this week. It's a dilemma; because you're never going to talk them into seeing "your movie." You either go alone or wait for it to come out on NetFlix. You're better off just showing up at the theater about five minutes after the start time and taking a seat in the back. If you've never gone to the movies by yourself, it's pretty weird the first time. But once the film starts, you quickly realize that it doesn't matter if you're with someone or not -- you're inside the film's world now. And when the lights come up afterward, you'll wonder why you ever cared about going alone in the first place.

Movies are easy. Dining alone, well, that's another story. The Food Channel is creating a culture of "foodies" who want something more than the usual prefabricated pound o' flesh served at the neighborhood Chili's or Appleby's or The Outback (where, for whatever reason, everything must be smothered in cheese). Good luck, however, getting your crew to eat at, say, an Indian restaurant or -- god forbid -- Thai. Everyone remembers the "Table for One" scene from Steve Martin's "The Lonely Guy" where, once seated alone, the restaurant falls silent and a spotlight blares on Martin as a team of waiters clears the other three settings off the four-topper. His solution: Pretend to be a food critic on assignment. My solution: Forget about dinner and go to your restaurant-of-choice at lunchtime, when you'll be surrounded by a sea of one-toppers. An added bonus: Entrées will cost about a third less.

OK, so what about rock shows.

Is there a comfortable way to go see a band by yourself without feeling like a dork? The task is daunting, but it can be done. Sokol Underground is so dark that once you get in and get your beer no one will see you. Most people at O'Leaver's are so drunk that they can't see anything at all. And just like at the movies, no one notices anything after the band starts. There's really nothing to be afraid of.

It's between sets that can be weird. At Sokol you can hang out in the back; at O'Leaver's, just turn your attention to whatever game's on the television sets. But the Niner, well, there's simply no place to hide. Just like the guy at the party who doesn't know anyone, no matter what you do you're gonna feel like a freak as you stand in everyone's way waiting for the next band to start.

That leaves you with two options: You can do what I did and just turn around and leave like a wuss, or you can just stand there and wait uncomfortably until the next band starts.

Actually, there's a third choice. You could -- god forbid -- actually talk to someone -- preferably someone else who looks as uncomfortable as you. Suddenly, you know someone else at the show. And then another, and another. And before you know it, you're a full-fledged scenester!

On second thought, maybe you should just go home.

By contrast, the six-piece Voxtrot was a tight, slightly retro pop-rock explosion. The guy next to me said they sounded like a straight-up Elephant 6 band. I can see that. They reminded me more of fellow Austin band Spoon, what with their handclaps and keyboard, though you could argue that Voxtrot's music is even poppier. The key to their success is the rhythm section -- a ridiculously tight drummer who cracked the whip as well as anyone I've heard at O'Leaver's (and that includes the guy from The Silos). The set was slow out of the gate, with flaccid, overcomplicated songs, but as the night wore on, their music got simpler, and better, creating a tight core between the vocalist, keyboards and rhythm section (by the way, the bassist played a bass that looked exactly like the one Paul McCartney played and everyone seemed to notice -- he also had McCartney's hair circa 1964). Before long, there were about a half-dozen hipsters dancing in front of the band (sizable, when you consider only about 40 were there to begin with). By the end of the night, Voxtrot won over the tiny crowd, and I can see why they've been selling out shows on this tour.