Tonight at Sokol Underground is the Speed! Nebraska showcase, featuring The Monroes, Ideal Cleaners and The Diplomats of Solid Sound. It's also the celebration of a record label turning 10 years old. No idea on the order, though I have to assume that The Monroes will be last up, but we all know what happens when we assume... I say this because there's a good chance that some of us won't be showing up until after the REO Speedwagon/fireworks spectacular at Memorial Park (I won't get there until late due to a wedding). $5, 9 p.m.

Tomorrow night it's... well... actually I don't see much going on tomorrow night. If you have any suggestions, post them on the Webboard (which, at the time of this writing, was offline due to server issues). Otherwise, I'll see you at The Brothers.

Sunday night it's Little Brazil and The Third Men at O'Leaver's. As mentioned before, Little Brazil has a whole mess of new songs that'll be appearing on their forthcoming album, which I haven't had the privilege of hearing yet. The Third Men are one of the funnest rock bands in the city these days. Last time 'round, in addition to their own toe-tapping originals, they graced us with a rare Richard and Linda Thompson cover. What will they pull out of the bag Sunday night? $5, 9 p.m.

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Column 83 -- Unlikely Underdog
An unbiased look at Happy Hollow

I have been accused -- for good or ill -- of being a "homer" for Saddle Creek Records. And for those of you who don't know the terminology, a homer is someone who always roots for the home team, not a character on The Simpsons.

I have been called everything from "the unofficial public relations arm of Saddle Creek" to a "tool" in service of the label. As part of these claims, I've been accused of turning my weary eyes away from the labels' "dark side," for ignoring its artists' ignoble personal habits. I can live with that accusation. I have little or no interest in what any musician or artist does off-stage or out of the studio with his or her body (or someone else's, for that matter). I've never been one to sniff around for gossip and gooey "insider" tidbits in hopes of "capturing the real person who lives deep down inside."

It's the other accusation that gets my fur up, the ones that goes something like "You can't trust his opinion about Saddle Creek recordings. He wouldn't dare say anything negative for fear of pissing someone off." That, my friends, puts the very essence of my critical powers in question. It's also a load of horse flop. There are artists and recordings on Saddle Creek that don't turn my crank, and I've been more than willing to share my distaste publicly, both in print and/or blogspace. As I've said before, I might have interviewed every artist on the label, I might have given them a nod or chat at shows, I might have even drank beer whilst leaning against the railing at O'Leaver's standing next to them.

But I don't "hang out" with them, dine with them, converse with their parents, attend baseball games or meet them at the mall. I've never been to one of their after parties, birthday parties or "whatever" parties. I've never bailed them out, sobered them up, or hid them from the cops.

I'm sure they're all nice, fun folks, but buddying up to them or any artist/musician would make it difficult to convey criticism about their art (and not because they couldn't handle it, because I might not be able to). Plus there's the whole credibility thing…

All of this came to mind when I sat down to write about Cursive's new CD, Happy Hollow.

Within a week or so after the review copies began floating around the network of those "in the loop," word began to leak that Happy Hollow wasn't so happy. Before long, people were coming up to me at shows, saying "Psst… heard the new one by Cursive? I'm not feeling it. It ain't like their old stuff. They're losing it." And that's some of the nicer comments. Others told me that it just plain sucked. That it marked the end of Cursive. That they turned their backs on their fans. That Tim Kasher no longer had anything to say. That the band was "mailing it in" or "going through the motions."

Didn't sound so promising. I expected the worst when I slipped the CD into my car stereo. I quickly discovered that all those people were full of poo-poo.

Along with Domestica -- the band's career-setting high-water mark -- Happy Hollow is hands down the best thing Cursive has released in their storied career. It is a pop, punk, drunk, funk achievement. An adventure in brash swagger that shines like a gold lamé suit on a street bum pushing a shopping cart full of garbage through the snow. It is (shall I say it?) a dance album. Yes, Cursive has created music that the masses can actually move to without thinking about it.

Add to that Kasher's down-to-earth lyrics. No longer reaching for strange or introspective "I'm a songwriter writing about songwriting" lyrics, Kasher is now content examining questions that are on all our minds. I won't get into the concept here other than to say it involves things like Faith and hope and confusion and uncertainty and anger and Faith. And I'm still not sure I know where he comes down on all of it. I have to listen to it more before I can figure it out.

I already "get" the music part, the swinging "Dorothy at Forty," the bombastic "Big Bang," the strutting "So-So Gigolo" the propulsive "Rise Up! Rise Up!" All worthy of your critical ears. Oh, and did I forget to mention the horns? There are horns, kids. Oh yes, lots of them.

And no, it doesn't sound like any other Cursive album. They've already done that. Why would they do it again? If you miss their angular, jangular edgeworks, go listen to Storms of Early Summer (a disc I never liked) or Domestica. They're still on your iPod.

I say all of this with mind and conscience open and untainted. So to all of you bitter, envious folks who think I'm stroking the boys, trying to get in bed with the artists, hoping to "build bridges" to gain an inside scoop -- go blow it out your blow holes. This one's for the home team, whether you like it or not.

This week's feature -- a lengthy history lesson of Speed! Nebraska Records -- went online last night. Read it here. You will discover how a band of merry men pulled their precious time and resources together to create an opportunity for Nebraska bands to be heard using a medium known as the vinyl 7-inch 45 rpm record. A quick aside: I recently discovered that not just a few, but many people don't know what a 45 is, never heard of records, and don't understand the concept of record players. Within the past day or so I've come across instances of two people in their 20s who had never heard of the term "45" or "7-inch." One of these encounters was first-hand. It's just more evidence that either 1) I'm getting old, or 2) the next generation is clueless. I guess we should never assume anything, especially details regarding music that seem obviously matter-of-fact. I still remember how baffled I felt the first time I talked to someone years younger than me who had never heard of Tom Jones. How could this be? Didn't they grow up hearing "It's Not Unusual" and "What's New Pussycat?" and "She's a Lady" on KFAB like everyone else? Laugh all you want, reader, but this painful reality will happen to you sooner than you think. I would love to see the expression on your face when you run into someone years from now who never heard of U2…

What to say about last night's Simon Joyner and the Fallen Men set at O'Leaver's (no longer the Wind-Up Birds, apparently)? Joyner and Co. came off like a band of Nashville veterans coming to after a three-day bender. More drone than I've ever heard from this ensemble, it reminded me of the Velvet Underground at their most atonal, with Joyner doing his best postnasal Lou Reed impersonation. It was downright mesmerizing in its cluttered, jambled genius. Bassman Mike Tulis kept the chaos together, god bless him, while everyone else glowed warmly within their own personal dissonance, lost somewhere between Hawkins' and McManus' improvisational experiments or Mike Friedman's layer of shimmering pedal steel. Deden's drumming continues to be defined by its minimalism because anything more would get in the way. I recognized favorite "One for the Catholic Girls" and one other oldie. And I'm sure there were a couple that will be forthcoming on the anticipated Jagjaguwar set, but I'm betting they won't sound like this. The final number was a 10-minute drone factory that featured the lyric "final solution" emoted by Joyner like a shrill proclamation. It was 45 minutes of sonic anesthesia followed by the inevitable hangover, but like I always say, you never know what you're going to get when Joyner takes the stage, and that's what makes his sets so essential.

Opener Miracles of God was a '90s punk-scream throwback to Sonic Youth and whatever SST garage band that your friend included on the end of that mixtape you used to play in your Datsun on the way to school that was at first annoying than catchy than annoying again, but, strangely, always the song you looked forward to most. They were energetic. Unfortunately their chutzpah wasn't contagious.

Tonight at O'Leaver's, Unwed Sailor and Spring Gun (Mr. 1986's Micah Schmiedskamp's band). Tomorrow on this Internet space, comments on the new Cursive CD in a column that also talks about homerism of a no-so-Simpsons variety...

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Sorry for the delay in updating the blog but I've been busy working on a massive feature story on Speed! Nebraska Records, that I'm told will be the cover story for this week's issue of The Reader. You'll, of course, be able to read it online here tomorrow morning. It was originally slated to be a mere show preview for their label showcase Friday at Sokol Underground, then out of the blue, the fine folks at The Reader said..."Uh, we were thinking cover." And that changed everything.

BTW, thanks to everyone who commented on the Fun City column. No word on what the World-Herald thought of it. Who am I kidding? I don't think the World-Herald knows The Reader (and lazy-i, for that matter) exists. And if they did, they certainly wouldn't acknowledge it. Way too low-brow for them. The words "riff-raff" come to mind (and just what are you doing reading this?). Ah well, it's not so bad being a media bottom-feeder.

So Tapes 'n' Tapes.... Yeah... uh... Look, no question that they're popular. They outdrew Fiery Furnaces by at least a couple dozen people last Friday night. But for the life of me, I didn't get what they were going for. They sounded like a watered down version of Wolf Parade to me. Uninteresting. I wasn't alone in that opinion, judging from the comments I heard (One guy said, "This is what you get when you go see a band that's been talked up on some bloggers' website."). The promoters, on the other hand, loved them, as did the majority of people there. I guess you need to hear their album first, which I haven't.

Which brings us to tonight's festivities and the choices that you'll have to make. Kyle Harvey, whose taste is impeccable and beyond reproach, says you'd be crazy to miss singer/songwriter David Mead at Mick's (at a show that Kyle is opening... think he's impartial?). I've never heard this guy before so I have no opinion other than to say if Kyle says he's good, he's good. But...

Down the street and 'cross town, O'Leaver's is hosting a show that I simply can't miss: Simon Joyner and the Wind-up Birds featuring Chris Deden, Mike Friedman, Dave Hawkins, Alex McManus and Mike Tulis. I have to assume Joyner will be playing songs from his forthcoming full-length that I've been told is a career-changing album for him. Also on the bill is Coolzey and Miracles of God.

Both shows are $5. Mick's starts at 9. O'Leaver's, 9:30.

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I was expecting The Fiery Furnaces' live set to be different from their albums -- no keyboards on this tour, remember? -- but I wasn't expecting the metal-rock-Rush-prog-Talking Head-Zappa-Sabbath explosion that I and about 200 of my closest friends got last night at the Sokol. "Bombastic" doesn't quite cut it. "Mercurial guitar histrionics"? Not exactly. "Anxiety-inducing tension"? Close, but no cigar. I admit to not being a follower of said band, so I can't really tell you how differently they sounded from their previous incarnations. I have only one of their CDs -- their newest one, which Sister Eleanor said they'd be dipping from extensively. From that disc, I only recognized one song -- the surrealistic "I'm in No Mood" and only because there's no mistaking the Russian pastiche melody-line, which when played on guitar instead of keys, was downright Queen-esque. Forget all the pretty stuff on the record, Eleanor has a perfect rock voice that rests somewhere between Chrissie Hynde and Johnny Rotten. Meanwhile, I am now convinced that Brother Matthew is some type of mad genius wunderkind. It's one thing to write this Dali-esque music, it's another thing entirely to play guitar with the virtuosity that he commands. Who needs a synthesizer when you can make your ax create similar (or better) sounds? The bottom line: I like them better as a full-out metal band with punk overtones and a prog jones that comes from listening to too much '70s arena rock (Did I mention Rush?). Yes, their records are interesting, almost quaint. Their live show belongs on a touring festival sandwiched between roaring sets by Cardiacs and The Who.

Yes, oh yes, I caught Kite Pilot, and they were their usual fine selves. I've seen them at least a half-dozen times and am aware that Sokol Underground has a way of bringing out the best in them (They should have recorded last night's live set, in fact, why don't more bands do that? Image the marketing potential of a record called Live at Sokol Underground...). I have no idea what they're going to do without Austin Britton playing guitar or, like last night, washboard. They'll find a way, just as I'm sure Austin has found his way, which is why he's headed to Cali under the command of a higher calling.

So let's take a moment to do a quick summary of very recent escapees: Nick White, Denver Dalley, Nik Fackler and now Austin Britton. Fun City is becoming less and less fun every day.

* * *

A crazy indie smorgasbord of a weekend began last night and continues on and on and on. Tonight it's maybe the hottest band in the world (at least for the right-now) Tapes 'n' Tapes at Sokol Underground with Figurines and Cold War Kids. Tapes 'n' Tapes are so crazy hot that I've never heard a single song by them and you probably haven't, either, yet they're still almost instantly recognized as the "It" band of the moment. If last night's turnout was disappointing (and it was) tonight's will be on the other end of the spectrum. I'm just saying. Every time I predict a sellout I'm wrong, so I'm not predicting one tonight. $10, 9 p.m.

Saturday night, the homecoming of Little Brazil at Sokol Underground, a make-up show for the gig they missed earlier this year with The Cops, a gig that I'm told they still feel guilty about missing. Methinks they'll channel that guilt into some kind of weird mega-performance where they'll attempt to change our personal definition of the word ROCK. Helping them out will be Prospect Avenue and Statistics (no idea who's backing Denver for tonight's gig). 9 p.m. $7.

Everything shifts to O'Leaver's Sunday night for Eagle*Seagull, Connor and Andrew Morgan. If you've never caught E*S before, there will be no better time. Strangely, I've watched them perform at O'Leaver's, Sokol and an art gallery and their O'Leaver's show was hands down the best, even though they barely have room to move on the bar's "stage." $5, 9:30 p.m.

Watch for updates/reviews all weekend...

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Column 82 -- Living in Fun City
It's all about furniture and cheesecake.

So I was in the park Saturday night to watch Bright Eyes. Were you?

A lot of you were, maybe 10,000, maybe 8,000, maybe 5,000. Depends who you ask. No one really knows for sure. There were a lot of people there. And all of them were wet. Just like me.

A few brief observation about the "event." As expected, it wasn't nearly the size of gathering that 311 was two years ago. Why would it be? Bright Eyes is under the radar, folks. Conor Oberst writes intelligent music that demands an investment from its listeners. It's not head-bobbing groove candy that asks nothing from the brain pan other than the ability to recognize primordial rhythms. Nothing wrong with dance music. It is, as we all know, the mode o' day of the status quo. Bright Eyes, on the other hand, whose music is at times beautiful and always lyrically interesting, ain't exactly the bread-and-butter of Clear Channel-infected commercial radio, keeping it safely under the radar. Which makes Saturday's opening acts Neva Dinova and Gruff Rhys downright underground.

So while you could argue that most of the people in the park on Saturday afternoon were there only to enjoy a free "event" with their families, and that the entertainment could just as well have been three guys and bagpipe, you'd be wrong. The rain proved it. No casual park-goers would have stood their ground from the nexus of that monsoon. It wasn't just raining. It was gushing. Forget about cats and dogs, this was biblical. And throughout the maelstrom, thousands refused to leave, both young and old (though mostly young). Talk about your acid test in the park. Conor Oberst found out who his true fan base was in his hometown. They were standing right in front of him, shivering wet, wanting to hear more.

Which brings us to the Omaha World-Herald and its bizarre declaration of the city's victory over the boredom. Glancing at the cover of the Sunday paper, there on top of the page was a "news story" headlined "Young Omahans hail new Fun City." Yes, folks, in case you were wondering, we now live in Fun City. Evidence of this is the Qwest Center and its endless stream of vintage-rock concerts whose tickets cost more than a typical "young Omahan" brings home in a week at his minimum-wage job. "Fun" also means lots of shopping opportunities, too. As the story boasted, by god, Omaha now has high-end retailers like Williams-Sonoma and Pottery Barn. And, as everyone knows, once you get a Cheesecake Factory, you've made it. Finally, there was that Bright Eyes concert and the "thousands of mostly young people who packed the grassy bowl of Memorial Park" who "seemed to be finding life here pretty good." (Incidentally, I guess Fun City doesn't have many black citizens. I only saw three in the crowd, and one was performing on stage. Maybe all the black people were busy picking out cookware at Williams-Sonoma).

Who knows why the Omaha World-Herald choose to place this editorial masquerading as a news story on its front page, essentially declaring "Mission Accomplished" like Bush on the deck of a battleship. Nothing much has changed in Omaha over the past decade, unless you view urban sprawl as an accomplishment. Conor Oberst sure doesn't. With his now sadly-defunct punk band, Desaparecidos, he wrote an entire album railing against it and the consumer-driven paradise defined by the Omaha World-Herald and the Chamber of Commerce. A year later, he moved to New York City. Oberst and most of the people who withstood God's wrath Saturday consider that kind of "fun" to represent everything that's wrong with America.

Because when you take away the shopping opportunities and the overpriced concerts at the Qwest Center there ain't much "fun" stuff left to do, especially if you're a youth in this faceless city. Sure, there's the One Percent indie rock shows that draw maybe a thousand kids every weekend to the city's one all-ages venue. There's the College World Series (that strangely, the article forgot to mention). But what else? Why would any youth want to live and die in Omaha? The answer overwhelmingly is the same as it was before the consultants declared war on boredom: Omaha is "a great place to raise a family." Fine, but what's that got to do with Fun City?

It reminds me of a chat I had with a friend of mine in his 20s who recently moved into one of those high-style condos downtown. I asked him what he thought of his "hip" new place, and he looked at me disappointedly and said, "It's designed by someone in their 40s who thinks they know how someone in their 20s wants to live."

Which perfectly sums up what's wrong with Fun City. The city fathers have forgotten who or what "youth" really is. It sure ain't some guy in his 40s pulling down $80k a year. It's that guy's son and daughter, who this weekend will be driving around Dodge Street looking for something to do. And not finding it. Unless, of course the World-Herald is right and today's youth thinks "fun" means aimlessly spending money on furniture and cheesecake. If so, God help us all.

This week's feature interview with The Fiery Furnaces is now online (read it here). Female furnace Eleanor Friedberger talks about how the band creates its quirky music, the advantages of a sibling relationship, Sebadoh and softball. Among the stuff that didn't make it into the story is an explanation why their new CD, Bitter Tea, was released on Fat Possum instead of Rough Trade. "It's complicated," Eleanor said. "Rough Trade in the U.S. is released on Sanctuary Records, and they stopped putting out records in US We needed a release date and they couldn't give it to us, so we licensed the recording to Fat Possum in the US and it came out on Rough Trade in Europe." What's in store for their Omaha set? "We're going to play a lot of songs from Bitter Tea. In the past we did it medley style -- 50 minutes without stopping. Now we're back to a more traditional style and will play whole songs." And what's up next for the band? "We're going to record another record in the winter, this time with live humans. We're going to have to recruit some people. But for now, we're going to be on tour most of the rest of the summer." I mention in the story that they're the darlings of the NPR set, and as a matter of fact they just did a new interview on Fresh Air with Terry Gross that aired Tuesday. You can listen to it here. It should be great show, especially when you add the fact that it'll be opening act Kite Pilot's last show with guitarist/vocalist Austin Britton.

And speaking of bands with personnel changes, tonight at O'Leaver's it's SideOneDummy Records band VCR with Omaha's own Life After Laserdisque featuring their new line-up sans lead singer. Who'll be handling the vocals now? Show up at 9:30 with five bucks and find out.

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Not much to report today, other than a couple Bonnaroo reviews that fell into my inbox here and here. There's a show at O'Leaver's tonight featuring a couple glamrock bands I've never heard of. Find out more here. Look for my interview with The Fiery Furnaces online tomorrow, and the last word on Conorfest in the Thursday column.

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It started to rain before Bright Eyes started. Someone made an announcement from stage, a warning that there's a good chance that there would be lightning, and rain. But that the show would go on. Once the rain became steady, we made our way down toward the stage and hid beneath a tree along with a half-dozen other people, including some poor guy with a broken leg who had been stretched out in a lounger, a piece of plastic covering his cast.

The perspective was better from down there. Up on stage in his black longsleeve hoodie thing was Conor saying something like "I'm going to play as long as you want me to or as long as they let me." And with that, he lit into a new song, or a song I didn't recognize. Within a few minutes, the rain began to subside and slowly, stop. But I knew better. I could see the storm clouds circling. I knew this was the calm before the storm.

I brought a moleskin with me and wrote down some observations after we arrived at around 6 p.m. right before Neva Dinova started their set. There was, what, maybe 3,000 people there? It just didn't look like very many. About the size of crowd that you'd see at Shakespeare on the Green on a Saturday night. The weather had been cooperating, it was nice and humid.

From where we were, toward the back of the bowl, no one was really paying attention to Jake and his band of merry men. I had no idea who all those people were -- since when is Neva Dinova an 8-piece with a violin? I did recognize, however, Roger Lewis, set up on stage right wearing a red-and-white striped hat. Neva's hippy blues seemed to fit in with the Midwestern love-in vibe… sort of. This wasn't a real hippie crowd. Hippies don't wear Puma gear or Abercrombie shirts.

Next to us was a covey of O! kids -- volunteers wearing red O! shirts that had been charged with handing out cheesy O! beach balls, supposedly for a photo shoot. "We're asking people to not blow them up and throw them around until Bright Eyes gets on stage." There was talk of some sort of choreographed moment when everyone was supposed to throw their beachball into the air, a moment that would never happen.

"I'm surprised that they allow people to put chairs so close to the stage," said O! guy. "All those emo kids are going to stampede when Bright Eyes gets up there." I nodded.

Bellows, from stage: "Do they have funnel cakes here?" He repeated the question and then someone yelled "No!" A joke... but everyone thought he was serious. Jake is funnier when he's drunk on stage. Neva finished their set with a cover of "Here Comes the Sun," ironic, considering that the storm clouds were just beginning to loom in the north.

There was about a half-hour break before Gruff Rhys came on. Some random observations:

-- Standing about 10 yards in front of us was a kid wearing a homemade T-shirt that said "Conor Oberst is my hero." Ironic? Maybe not.

-- Overhead, a helicopter flew over the crowd in circles -- chomp-chomp-chomp.

-- Hacky Sack and the geeks that play it are the most annoying people in the world. No matter where they set up their "hacky" circle, they are always in the way, and inevitably, run into someone.

-- We searched for the most "emo" kid in the crowd, and found him only a few feet in front of us -- a boy in his late teens, sitting alone wearing a brown polo shirt and blue ball cap. Emo kids aren't fashionable, they're lonely.

-- Lots of goth kids. More Goth kids than black people. We counted only two black people in the crowd, while there seemed to be an endless parade of Goth kids with their multi-zippered oversized pants, black hair, striped shirts and socks, and Lydia-from-Beetlejuice makeup. One guy looked like a Goth mime.

-- In spite of all the hype about the cops, we never noticed them after we got inside the park (the perimeter outside the park, however, looked like a pre-riot staging area). We weren't searched when we passed a couple cops on the way in, and easily could have snuck in a bottle of wine, though I assume there were "spotters" hidden somewhere (maybe in the trees?) who would have swooped down the instant we raised a bottle.

Next up came Gruff Rhys, barely visible seated on stage with an acoustic guitar, a beat-box/Casio device next to him. He does have a great voice, kind of like the guy from Seals and Crofts. Again, from our vantage point, no one was listening, maybe because the music was being sung in Welsh and was somewhat boring, helped along occasionally by the Casio and Rhys sense of humor.

Meanwhile, all through his set, people kept arriving. By 7:30 the crowd looked to be around 5,000, but there was still plenty of room to find a spot, lay down a blanket and relax.

Let's get this out of the way. It makes no sense to compare this concert with the 311 concert from two years ago. Bright Eyes will never be as popular as 311. He'll never sell as many records, he'll never draw the kind of crowds 311 draws. 311 is a commercial pop band, heard regularly on Clear Channel radio stations, and will do whatever it takes to move units. Bright Eyes is not heard on the radio and will not compromise his art for sales or popularity. He shuns commerciality, even though there were gigantic US Cellular banners hung on either side of that stage.

What was the attendance right before Bright Eyes went on? Probably 10,000. Before the rain, from on top of the hill, there looked like fewer than 10k, and closer to 5k. Nothing like the 311 show two years ago, when you couldn't get near the bowl if you got there after it started -- in fact most of the south hillside had been filled as well (The estimate for that show had been 30,000 and that seems somewhat light).

So about 5 minutes after the rain announcement came from stage, it began to spit. Nothing horrible, sprinkles. Then slow, steady rain. That's when we folded up the lawn chairs and got up to leave. Huddled under the tree while listening to the first couple Bright Eyes songs, we thought maybe the rain would stop, after all, the sun had come out and was blazing on the crowd right where we had been sitting.

Oberst never sounded better, with a strong, professional band backing him. The crowd, now standing, was into it. Introducing one song, Oberst made a pitch for starting a mass transit system in Omaha, just like they have in NYC, "where he lives now," he said. Driving around in your car listening to music is fun, he said, but sometimes it's good to get out of your bubble and talk to someone you don't know. And it's good for mother earth, who's about to cry all over you.

About five minutes later, the sky opened up. And it poured. Our little tree provided little shelter. Mr. Broken Leg was pulled closer beneath the branches, but he was soaked. As was the thousands who were still there listening to their savior. We moved to a bigger tree and leaned against its thick, dry trunk for warmth. But it was obvious the rain wasn't going to let up.

We made it to "Lover I Don't Have to Love," and then gave up. One observation: It's hard to walk in flip-flops when they're soaking wet. I looked up at the stage as we left and could see some of the earlier bands and VIPs, along with Conor and his friends, warm and dry under the stage tarp, watching while all the world turned into a puddle of human rain.

Though it was pouring, there was no reason to run. We were already wet, and had five blocks until we'd get home. Two little girls ran by us on the bike path, their hair stuck to their T-shirts. They were followed a moment later by their little sister, yelling, "What are you running from? What are you running from? What are you running from?..."

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Let's get this out of the way: Mark Burgess' show at Mick's tonight has been canceled. Burgess played in Atlanta Wednesday night, but flew back to Hamburg today due to a family emergency. There's an outside chance that he'll pass through Omaha in September when he's in the country for a band-supported performance in NYC.

The cancellation will now allow me to attend the Graphic Noise Rock Poster show down at Jackson Artworks, featuring Simon Joyner, Ted Stevens and Jake Bellows -- all three for only $5. Unfortunately, galleries are lousy places to see performances. Go for the posters, dude, then afterward go see Skull Fight! (a.k.a. The Cuterthans) at O'Leaver's for another $5.

So the burning question about Saturday is: What to do after the Bright Eyes concert? (Incidentally, now there's a chance for thunderstorms Saturday afternoon. Uh-oh.). A lot of people will be strolling over to The 49r to see Ladyfinger (ne). No, the (ne) after Ladyfinger isn't a mistake -- that's the band's new name, according to the fine folks at Saddle Creek Records. You've heard this story before: Seems there's a band in California that already owns the rights to the name Ladyfinger, so our Ladyfinger (the real Ladyfinger) had to add something to the name or change it entirely. They liked the name so much, they decided to add the (ne, which I guess stands for Nebraska? Hmmm... maybe they could have just added an "s" at the end (Ladyfingers?). Anyway, Ladyfinger (ne) (something tells me that name's not going to work) and Lincoln's Ideal Cleaners are playing at The Niner Saturday after Bright Eyes, which will probably finish up at around 10.

I was going to suggest that if the Niner doesn't trip your trigger, there's always the goony-summer-goodtime rock of Dressy Bessy at O'Leaver's -- but according to the Dressy Bessy's myspace page, the show has been canceled "through no fault of our own." Meanwhile, O'Leaver's main page still shows it scheduled as does www.dressybessy.com. I suggest you contact O'Leaver's before making the trip.

Look for some reviews here over the weekend.

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

With the Bright Eyes concert around the corner, I thought I'd share a handful of reviews of his Canadian swing that's taking place as you read this. The tone of the reviews is rather subdued, though there's a couple spooge-fests along with a few hurled rocks. Sounds like Oberst and Co. played mostly mid-size venues -- 1,000 capacity or smaller. You can read the full reviews by clicking on the headline in front of each capsule.

Concert Reviews -- Straight.com Vancouver -- Malkin Bowl on Sunday, June 4 -- Maybe the best of the bunch. Inspirational quote: "Three vaguely embarrassed-looking security guards would march a teenage girl out of the venue not long after Oberst and his Bright Eyes band began—she presumably had a bomb or something—but it was an otherwise peaceful gathering of mostly young, female mall hippies. Of the men who were there, many were baffled dads, though there was also a healthy complement of clean-living young men, dressed like they wanted to be English schoolboys when they grow up." Nice.

Band emotes punk -- Goldstream News Gazette -- June 9 -- Probably the worst of the group, this one will activate the ol' gag reflex. Get ready to lean over the toilet: "For me, it struck during 'Lua,' the fourth song of the evening that he performed alone under the spotlight with his acoustic guitar. On the brink of tears, I heard a little voice deep within me whisper, 'I love you too.'" One's gorge doth rise...

Oberst's brilliance brightens concert -- Ottawa Sun -- Bronson Centre, Ottawa - June 12, 2006 -- This one starts off like it's going to be a bag full o' razors with this quote: "I can't tell you how many times Conor Oberst, the sulky singer and songwriter better known as Bright Eyes, was on the verge of storming offstage in a temper tantrum or breaking down into tears at Monday night's Bronson Centre gig." Turns out to be a yawner.

'Saviour of literate rock' fails to live up to the hype -- The Ottawa Citizen, June 14, 2006. Lynn seemed upset that Oberst's set was only 80 minutes. "But experience doesn't always guarantee charisma, and having loads of material doesn't always mean one is going to play for hours. Oberst gave a decent, 80-minute performance Monday at Bronson Centre but never seemed entirely comfortable in the spotlight. For those who were hoping for superlatives, it was a bit disappointing." Still, it winds up being fairly even keeled.

London Free Press -- Centennial Hall, London, Ont. - June 13, 2006 -- Conor talks about loving Labatt's from stage. "At one point, the Blue seemed to take its own revenge. 'I've got to relieve myself. I'll be back in 25 seconds,' Oberst said around the 50-minute mark before actually leaving the stage."

Concert Review: Bright Eyes, June 10, Winnipeg, Canada -- Blah. "Conor Oberst's vocals wouldn't have won him a spot on American Idol; with his somewhat husky, shaky style, however, he excels at conveying emotions and telling stories."

Bright Eyes surprise -- June 11 -- Hah. "Oberst's stage schtick has always trended towards preciousness -- his distinctive tremulous bleat, in particular -- and he found ample opportunity yesterday to do his willow-in-the-wind bit on the slower numbers."

Sounds like the set list will consist mostly of stuff from from Wide Awake, a new song, and no "When President Talks to God." All in all, a timid outing that will likely set well with the Memorial Park crowd but won't win him any new fans. So how many will show up? First, reread my take on what will happen, written back in April. The weather report looks pretty good, which will help, as will the fact that no Nebraska team made it into the College World Series. I still say the numbers will be far less than the 311 concert a couple years ago...

Tonight, retro stoner meets psychedelic rock band The Black Angels (check out their myspace page) are at Sokol Underground with Hopewells and Omaha's own Virgasound. $8, 9 p.m.

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

Column 81: Catching Up with a Chameleon
Mark Burgess returns to Omaha.

The Chameleons is one of those bands that changed peoples' lives.

No, they didn't change my life. I only discovered the influential '80s band a few years ago when I interviewed Chameleons frontman Mark Burgess for an article written in support of a solo show at the Healing Arts Center. There were a lot of people there that night, many who told me afterward that The Chameleons dreamy, floating music inspired them in some way, sort of how the band clearly inspired acts like The Psychedelic Furs, The Church, The Cure and Lincoln's own For Against. All of those bands sport the same, hollow, ghost-eyed style of gothic ambient rock.

So when it was announced that Burgess was coming through Omaha again -- this time at Mick's on June 16 -- I e-mailed him a few questions to see what he's been up to since that first show way back in '03. Here's the bulk of our little internet-based Q&A (including emoticons!). See you at Mick's Friday ($12, 9 p.m.).

What do you remember about the last time you performed in Omaha?

Quite a lot actually. The beautiful room, which was more like a kind of New Age temple than a venue, the hushed attention of the audience, which I recall was a bit unnerving 'cause I wasn't used to that level of respect at acoustic shows :) I remember strolling the streets with Stephen (Sheehan, the show's promoter) watching all the buskers that were around in glorious sunshine, one guy played the theme from 2001 on partially filled wine glasses. That was something. * And Dereck (Higgins, who accompanied on bass) of course, whom I'd never met before the sound check, how quickly he grasped the arrangements and dynamics and then later he introduced me to his amazing record collection, which included practically every record I ever grew up with. And one guy at the show who shyly made me a present of a guardian angel talisman, which I've carried around with me ever since.

* You're only doing three U.S. shows this time 'round, and once again you're including Omaha. Why?

Well, one of the reasons is to preview the up and coming live Chameleons DVD and promote that. It won't be distributed traditionally, rather it's only available via mail order directly from the band. So the manager thought it would be a good idea to preview it and make a few personal appearances. I was invited to come to Atlanta and to Omaha when Stephen heard about it; and the SF thing is a good opportunity to hang out with one of my closest friends, James Oakes of The Bellows. I'm hoping very much to bring my band out here before the end of the year and play more widely. I'm trying to drum up support for a new recording of fresh material.

* I believe when we last spoke, you were living in Hamburg. Are you still there and, if so, what keeps you there? Is it particularly conducive to the artist's lifestyle?

Yeah I'm still in Hamburg. I think it's one of the most beautiful and energetic cities in northern Europe, that's not to take anything away from other great cities, like Berlin, Paris, Amsterdam, Copenhagen etc. But for me Hamburg has a very special ambiance, it was a love affair that began a very long time ago during the early days of The Chameleons. My wife is from there so it seemed logical to settle there. We spent some months living in Manchester, but it didn't really suit us. We both love going back to Manchester and have a lot of friends there, and family of course, but Hamburg is a bit more relaxed generally.

What is the current state of The Chameleons? When we last spoke, guitarist Reg Smithies' son had just been born, putting a damper on any upcoming reunion tours.

Yeah, and they're now expecting their second child, a girl I believe so that's pretty much that :-D We're all kind of scattered to the four winds and you know with the passing of time we've become very different people, different priorities. I think we took it as far as we could really.

Are you more interested in pursuing a career as a solo artist than keeping The Chameleons active?

Yeah, I think so. I mean I try and get involved with different types of people in terms of collaborations and I like re-exploring past musical relationships, I think with Chameleons we're too anchored in the past really from an audience's point of view. Having said that, I still enjoy playing a lot of that stuff, especially songs that we didn't play for one reason or another, like "Looking Inwardly" for example. It is very difficult, though, because Chameleons is what people are mainly interested in, it's hard to get them to put that aside and be open for other people I play alongside. Some do though, so I still have an audience :)

* Tell me about the Ascension DVD. How did you put it together. What were you trying to accomplish with it?

A film maker contacted me prior to the US reunion tour and asked if he could come to the Californian shows and film them. The understanding was that if we had something we were happy with we could come to some kind of arrangement about putting it out. It was too good an opportunity to miss, really, and I think it's the best footage of the band I've ever seen. That was the point really, to document the band at a time, which we all felt it was better than ever.

Do you keep current with what's going on with today's music? If so, what's your take on the current status of American music? To me, it's been in a rut for the past two or three years!

I think generally it has. One reason is because from the point of view of genre, it's become very, very fragmented. There hasn't been one scene that kind of unifies a ground swell of attitude or thought. I don't keep as current as I used to, I tend to rely on friends or whatever pointing interesting things out to me. Currently I'm still playing the Arcade Fire pretty much non-stop.

I think part of the reason for America's artistic malaise is its current political climate. What's your take on US foreign policy and how do you think it's impacted your life and your music? (I remember you throwing out some interesting jabs at Tony Blair during your '03 Omaha performance).

Well obviously all our lives have changed with what's been going on with US foreign policy. I understand that politically America has been forced to react to the forces that have been raging. I've lost what little faith I had that power politics will ever change the world for the better. I have contrary opinions to a great many issues that potentially may offend. I find it almost impossible to trust information that I'm given by the major media and think that in many instances, such as 9/11 for example, they fail us by failing to address very important questions. My cynicism toward Blair, though, predates all of that to a large degree. I feel that he got his party elected by betraying every ideal that the party was founded on. It was clever politics, forcing the Tories even further to the right and occupying the middle ground, but it was a betrayal in my view and it made me very sad.

What can we expect from your upcoming Omaha performance?

I honestly don't know. I never really know how it will go or exactly what I'll play. Hopefully the people who come will hear something or feel something that will stay with them for a long time. And at the very least it will be an honest performance.

* What's in the works for Mark Burgess for the rest of '06 and beyond?

Hard to say. I do hope I can take the band out and develop the new songs I've been working on. I have an autobiography coming out in December. Beyond that, I don't know. I have to think long and hard about whether I should continue as I have been doing or go into something else. I just don't know.

I was informed late last night that Eux Autres was in town at The Goofy Foot with The Family Radio and The Third Men -- an a-list show that completely slipped in under the radar. We almost have too much stuff going on these days, and I need data, people, if I'm going to help get you there! I rarely hear about Goofy Foot shows until afterward, which is a shame because it's a fun (and different) place to see a band. Tonight, Fresno California indie band Rademacher is at O'Leaver's. They sound sound like Yeah Yeah Yeahs meet, I don't know, a '60s garage band on ludes? Listen for yourself. No opener listed on the O'Leaver's site...

Tomorrow, look for an extended interview with Chameleons frontman Mark Burgess (which is the topic of this week's column).

Post 'em here.>

Here's some late comments on last Friday's Protoculture show at O'Leaver's that I never got around to posting this weekend. I was pleasantly surprised (shocked?) at the turnout -- as many or possibly more on hand than the evening before for NOMO/His Name Is Alive. Certainly more than their debut gig a few months back, that was lightly attended. How many people were there to see opener Her Flyaway Manner is hard to say, though the place was packed when Protoculture got things rolling at around 11:30. Needless to say, this gig was hands down better than the first one, when they were probably nervous to be playing for the first time in years. Friday night was more relaxed, maybe too relaxed. The set started out strong, with Koly Walter and Erica Hanton in fine voice. Then came the moment of truth about halfway through the set. "This next song is called 'My New Laugh,'" announced Koly to a smattering of applause and hoots. With that, Clayton Petersen played the tinkling intro on guitar and Erica ripped into the vocals, making their way to the explosive chorus MY NEW LAUGH WILL KILL YOUR SMILE. And then right before the second verse they stopped. What happened? Someone turned to me and said "He broke a string." A moment later and they got it going again, but instead of starting over, they proceeded with the second verse. So I sort of got my wish, having wanted to hear that song performed live for years. The rest of the set took on a wonky tone. Songs started, then stopped, followed by more whooping (Erica had to tune her bass). It sort of had a band practice vibe, which wasn't all that bad. In some respects, it took the edge off and was more fun. Still, I'm waiting for that perfect Protoculture show, where all the stars align and the spirits of past New Wave/No Wave artists appear out of the smoky ether to take a seat and watch with nodding respect. That time will come.

Tonight at O'Leaver's, The Show Is the Rainbow opens for underground/outsider comedian Neil Hamburger. I've heard some of Hamburger's schtick, including his Letterman appearance. He's Kaufmanesque in his "laugh at me not with me" style of performance art -- an anti-comic whose gig is to be so bad that he's good -- i.e., the Tony Clifton of stand-up comedy. I suspect this will be packed. What will Darren Keen and The Show Is the Rainbow do to unsettle Hamburger and his audience? That's worth seeing all by itself. $5, 9:30 p.m.

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

You know you've just seen a great band when you forgot to pay attention to them in a journalistic sort of way and just LISTENED to them. Such was the case last night for NOMO at O'Leaver's. Seven people on "stage" (I know I reported that they're a 10-piece -- hey, that's what Warn Defever told me) including a bari and tenor sax, two trumpets, two percussionists, a bass player and keyboards (I didn't see/hear a guitar). I don't know a thing about "afro-beat" music. I do know that I dug what I heard last night -- intricate horn charts played over intricate rhythms that pulsed with a dirty global beat. Think Fear of Music through Speaking in Tongues-era Talking Heads, then add plenty of funky brass. The guy next to me mentioned Fela Kuti, who I will now have to research further. To say it was celebratory would be an understatement -- O'Leaver's glowed. Though the horn lines were well-charted, there was plenty of room for the saxophones to stray into freeform improvs. They ended their set playing a song while parading through the bar, ending up in a chanting circle right in front of where I sat by the door. There was a sense that we were seeing and hearing something special that we never seem to see and hear around these parts, and should more often.

Three NOMOs joined Warn Defever and Andy FM for His Name Is Alive (including the tenor sax player who set his horn down to play keyboards). How do you follow that sort of organic, exuberant explosion of a performance? You showcase Defever's white-knuckle guitar work. His style that spanned everything from metal to acid rock to avant gard to drone. For obvious reasons the music didn't have as much of an hypnotic effect on the 100 or so on hand as NOMO had. Still, a great set, a diversion from the usual indie-rock schtick and something that we rarely get to see in Omaha.

Tonight, again at O'Leaver's, The Protoculture with Lincoln's Her Flyaway Manner. I've been told by Protoculture drummer/vocalist Koly Walter that the band has worked up a version of "My New Laugh," my favorite of their repertoire that they didn't perform at their comeback show last March. Again, the chorus: "My new laugh / My new laugh/ My new laugh / My new laugh / MY NEW LAUGH WILL KILL YOUR SMILE." Be there. 9:30, $5.

Also tonight, Mal Madrigal is playing at The Pizza Shoppe (which is now called PS Collective). $5, 9 p.m. Meanwhile, at The 49'r, it's The Diplomats of Solid Sound, The Bent Scepters and Springhill Mine Disaster. No idea on price. They usually get things rolling at around 10 p.m.

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

Column 80: Special Delivery
A peek inside the ol' mailbag.

Believe it or not, The Reader does get letters. They just don't print them. I have no idea why. I'm sure they have their reasons that involve "ad space" or "page count" or some inconvenience involving the phases of the moon. That said, in these days of the interweb, the fact that someone has gone to the trouble to sit down and compose a comment in response to something published in your paper deserves not only acknowledgment but proper presentation in those pages. It's called giving your readers a voice.

Readers like a local celebrity of old, responding to the May 11 column about how "vintage" music has taken over the airwaves:

… As someone maybe 10 years older than you, let me assure you that Styx, Foreigner and the 70s incarnation of Steve Miller sucked then, suck now, and will still suck 30 years from now. Boston -- not so bad.

Meanwhile, I agree completely with your premise. Let me add this for your consideration: Radio is ruining memory, sucking the sweetness out of nostalgia. In c. 1979, if I heard "Windy" by the Association, it took me back to high school, reminded me of the friends I hung out with at the pool that summer, put me in a specific place and time. And it was bittersweet because it took me directly from age 30 to age 17, skipping the intervening years in a sort of "time travel for the emotions." But now when I hear Windy, it reminds me merely of when I heard it last week. Or maybe the week before, or the week before that, or ...

Come to think of it, maybe you can't share my regret at this turn of events, since there never was a temporal gap between spins of "More Than A Feeling" and the like -- it's been played every week since its release.

Your points about the fragmentation of today's music audience are also true. Do you know that the fragmentation was deliberate, brought about by consultants, radio stations and (of course) advertisers? Anyway, one upshot is that these kids will never have the bittersweet experience of a shared nostalgic moment.

Not the most pressing problem in the world, I know. Just kind of a little sweetener that isn't available any more.

Signed: D.D. Doomey

"DD" as in Diver Dan as in half of the team of Otis XII and Diver Dan Doomey that owned local morning radio on Z-92 when I was a tot growing up in Omaha (and later, Ft. Calhoun). I won't wax nostalgic about Space Commander Wack (and Stupid Larry) or Lance Stallion Radio Detective other than to say Otis and Diver's unbridled creativity hasn't been heard on local radio since they left it sometime in the '90s, unless you consider misinformed, opinionated blather and fart jokes "creativity." Some do. Actually, most do, judging by the Arbitron numbers.

Reader Robin Tills also wrote in about radio's nostalgia boom: "I am not a musician, but I wonder since there are only so many musical notes to write from, and a lot of great songs have already been written and sung from groups like Journey, REO Speedwagon, Styx, Boston, John Cougar, Cheap Trick, Survivor, and on and on, it's gotta be hard to come up with something new. … I don't know if today's musicians really make an honest commitment to create great music…"

The problem isn't that today's music isn't as good, the problem is that the good music isn't getting heard. Tooling 'round town the other day with my iPod, Low's "California," Jenny Lewis and the Watson Twins' "Rise Up with Fists!!" and Sufjan Stevens' "Jacksonville" came up on the shuffle back-to-back-to-back and I thought to myself all of these songs could be hits as big as any hit from the '70s or '80s if they only got picked up by Clear Channel or whatever music conglomerate owns the radio waves, because, folks, we certainly don't own them anymore. Judging from D.D.'s comments, maybe we never did.

Omahan Ed Perini commented on the May 25 column about wearing hearing protection at rock shows: "…I agree that the myth that wearing earplugs 'ruins the experience' is ridiculous. In fact, I have found that wearing them cuts out a lot of the distortion, and eliminates some of the background noise - like, say, people who insist on talking loudly while a band is playing."

They also protect from people who insist on talking -- or rather screaming -- at you during the set. Conversations like: "WANT ANOTHER BEER?" "WHAT?" "I SAID DO. YOU. WANT. ANOTHER. BEER?" "WHAT?"… Full throttle, directly into the ol' ear canal. Much more damaging than that guitar solo you just missed. And completely unintelligible unless you're wearing ear plugs. Just sayin', do yourself a favor.

Keep those cards and letters coming, folks.

"Sometimes you just wake up and say, 'What are we doing playing in a sports bar?'"

It's a good question coming from a band that has played in such regal locations as a 500-year-old Buddhist temple in Osaka, a 19th century synagogue on the lower east side of New York City and countless historic venues throughout the United States, Europe and the world.

One can only wonder what Warn Defever, the mastermind behind His Name Is Alive, will think of the beer-stenched confines of O'Leaver's Pub. Weeks into the band's first headlining U.S. tour in 10 years, he's already devised his own, personal ritual for exorcising demons from less-than-hallowed performance spaces.

"Some bars have a vibe that comes from people drinking there for years. Just the smell of the place, it's not the most spiritual of environments," Defever said via cell on the road somewhere between San Francisco and Seattle. "We used to play a song at the beginning of our set to cleanse the room of evil spirits and get everyone on the right page. Then last night I realized -- where did those bad spirits go? They went to the next bar down the street." (continued)

I'm told that The Cardinal Sin didn't make it to O'Leaver's last night. Something about one of the guys in the band "throwing out his back," according to the show's promoter. Just how old are these guys that they're already suffering from back problems? Apparently Jaeger Fight made it, so the night was salvaged. I didn't go. Nor will I be attending tonight's festivities at O'Leaver's: A Utah band with the unfortunate name of TaughtMe, along with Justin Lamoureaux's Midwest Dilemma and the always interesting Kyle Harvey. $4, 9 p.m. There are more details about this show here on the webboard.

One other item: This Bright Eyes article is making the rounds up in the Great White North where boy wonder will be playing a string of shows leading to his Memorial Park gig a week from Friday. His Dylan comparisons = lazy journalism comment is old hat. He's right about Canadians being more laid back -- they clearly are, in my experience. Smarter and kinder as well. Based on this piece, I assume that he'll also pass on playing "When the President Talks to God" when he makes it back. Quote of the article: "I don't see the record being as homogenized as the last two were." Homogenized? So does that mean he's going back to low-fi? Not likely.

Look for the His Name Is Alive piece bright and early tomorrow morning.

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

I went to a total of no shows last weekend (If anyone wants to chime in on the Tilly show, please do so right here). That'll all change this week. In fact, having not stepped foot in O'Leaver's in a while, it looks like I could be spending a lot of time there in the next few days, perhaps starting tonight with Jaeger Fight (featuring The Reader's managing editor Andy Norman on bass) and Minneapolis' The Cardinal Sin.

I'm going to stupidly give you an early head's up about Thursday's His Name Is Alive/NOMO show. Stupid, because it could well be one of the best shows of the year, and me telling you this will only make it more unbearably packed in tiny O'Leaver's. NOMO is a 10-piece afro-beat band that is, in a word, amazing. The new His Name Is Alive CD, Detrola, is on heavy rotation on my iPod as I type this. This one would have been nice to see at Sokol Underground. Look for a feature/interview with HNIA's Warn Defever online here Wednesday.

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

Tonight at Sokol Underground, Tilly and the Wall with Dave Dondero. The $5 show is SOLD OUT. Tilly keyboardist Nick White said their staging might have a "tropical theme" complete with flower leis. Fun! Speaking of Tilly, did anyone see this item in yesterday's Des Moines Register about the band's upcoming marriage? I didn't even know Jamie and Derek were dating. When is Of Montreal just going to throw up their hands and move to Omaha? Seems like they play here or in Lincoln about six months.

Also tonight, the return of Charlie Burton to the Omaha stage at Mick's. The show is supposed to be a "CD release party," except that I'm told there won't be any CDs on hand to release. Maybe FedEx will come through in time. Take a trip down memory lane and read this 1998 interview I did with Charlie when he was still living in Austin. $5, 9 p.m.

Tomorrow night is Anonymous American with Scott Severin and Virgasound at Sokol Underground. $7, 9 p.m. And that's it for the weekend, folks. Get out and enjoy the weather.

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

Column 79: Flyover Country
Will cheapskates kill our scene?

I was chatting with a friend of mine the other day about a show at one of our many fine establishments taking place that very evening. Never mind which show or where it was -- doesn't matter. What does matter is that this person loved the band and had for years. You going tonight? "No," he said, "I like the band and all, but sheesh, $12? That's way too much."

Twelve dollars too much to see a band that this guy goes on and on about all the time? It's the cost of a movie and a fizzy drink at your local Cineplex, about a third of what it costs to fill up your car and the amount you wouldn't think twice about paying for a good CD. Twelve dollars -- the price to see not one, but three bands, including a touring national act whose videos have aired on MTV, perform live for your enjoyment for one night only.

Well, let me let you in on a little secret, folks: Quality national bands are starting to pass Omaha by. That's nothing new, but in the past year or so, it's started to become more and more commonplace… again. Why? Because Omaha is known as a cheap-ass town when it comes to ticket prices, at least as far as mid-tier indie acts are concerned.

We've had it good here for so long that we've forgotten what it was like before Omaha became ground zero for the burgeoning national indie scene a few years ago. There now is an entire generation of concertgoers who don't know what it's like to have to drive to Lawrence or Denver or Minneapolis to see their favorite indie bands. Whether it was because of Saddle Creek Records or the tenacity of the two or three local promoters who keep the circus in town, Omaha became a destination spot for indie rock tours -- no longer a gas-and-go drive-through city.

Well, things have changed. Bands that made Omaha a tour stop over the past few years aren't so eager to make the stop again. Why should they when the night before they sold out a venue twice the size of Sokol for a ticket that cost twice as much? Suddenly taking a day off instead of playing here is looking a whole lot better.

I talked about the issue with a number of promoters last week. Some say I'm full of poo-poo. That Omaha ain't New York or LA and that prices should be lower here. But others say it is a problem, and gave specifics. No one wanted to be quoted for fear of making their patrons sound like cheap-jack hustlers.

Regardless, look at the facts: When Gomez, one of the more popular indie bands with a broad age demographic, played here last month, they did it for the lowest ticket price of their entire tour -- $15. Most of their gigs were in the $20 range, and their show at San Francisco's Fillmore Auditorium was $25… and sold out. The Omaha show only drew around 300. Wonder if they'll stop by here again.

It's not entirely our fault that we've become spoiled. Take the Saddle Creek/Team Love bands, for instance. The Faint and Bright Eyes charge twice as much for shows in other cities than they do here. Friday's Tilly and the Wall show is only $5. Tilly's charging $12 the following night in Des Moines. These bands play on the cheap because they feel indebted to the town that gave them their start. Nothing wrong with that, except that we've come to expect it, while the rest of the country is paying the going rate.

Is it just an indie thing? Sounds like it, when dinosaur acts at the Qwest Center sell out $100+ shows in less than an hour, and craphole (or kraphole) bands like Kottonmouth Kings have no problem drawing their usual head-banging crowd at $34 a pop. Suddenly $12 to $15 doesn't sound so bad, does it?

But apparently it is. Omaha's sweet spot when it comes to indie shows has always been $8 to $10. Once you get in the teens, it becomes a crap shoot for the promoters. Yet most mid-tier indie bands are now demanding at least that much to make it worth their time. The ones that do play here leave angry because they've made half as much as they did the night before, at a show that sold out.

It comes down to this: Ticket prices are going up eventually. Say bye-bye to the under-$10 show except for nights that feature "experimental," up-and-coming local or unknown acts. The $12 to $15 (and $20 to $25) ticket looms large on the horizon. And if you want to keep your favorite indie bands coming here, you better show up and lay it out. If you pay it, they will come. If you don't…