Just posted, a profile/interview with Sarah Benck and The Robbers (read it here). The story covers the band's new album (Neighbor's Garden), their business model (or lack of one), why American Idol sucks and where they're headed in the future. The mantra surrounding Benck for the past few years has been, "She's gonna be huge, just you watch." Yet, here we are in 2007 and Benck and her band continue to play the local bar circuit, rarely leaving the city limits. We spent a lot of time talking about that during the interview, and I never got a sense that the band is pulling at the reigns to get out on the road, content to be a big fish in this small pond. Same goes for getting signed -- while they'd like to be on a label, there's either a reticence to do what it would take to make that step or a self-defeating sense that it'll never happen. That's somewhat unique among the bands I've interviewed over the years. Give them credit for being honest and knowing what they want.

About a half-dozen people read this story before it went to press. One was taken aback by the American Idol discussion -- "I don't imagine you'd ask any of the Saddle Creekers that kind of question. Did you ask her that because she's a sweet, unassuming powerful but humble woman?" I asked her because she has what it takes to be a finalist on American Idol -- the vocal chops, the looks, the personality, she's the right age. Fact is, she almost auditioned for that INXS talent search a couple years ago, and then decided not to after reading the contract, so she's not above doing that sort of thing. By the way, there are about four past American Idol participants currently in the Billboard top-100. She's a pop artist playing pop music. Indie artists wouldn't stand a chance on American Idol. Imagine Conor Oberst trying out for the show. He wouldn't make it past the city auditions. Even the more talented Creek singers, like Orenda Fink and Maria Taylor, would never make it to Los Angeles -- vocally too frail, not glamorous enough, and too old (sorry ladies). Decide for yourself if Benck and Co. have the chops to make a big splash nationally by watching them perform at their CD release show this Friday night at The Waiting Room, with opener Scott Severin and his band. You can't beat the price -- it's free.

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Funny thing about last night's NOMO show at The Waiting Room… Don't get me wrong, it was a great show, an inspiring show -- eight people on stage tearing through a set of Americanized Afrobeat that insisted -- insisted! -- that you move your feet. It even got me to shrug my shoulders to the beat -- a miracle. The set-up was two trumpets, a baritone sax, a tenor sax/keyboardist, bass, guitar, drums and congas. The style was big-beat African riddums, tribal drums, highlife brass/woodwind chords, funk and jazz, with plenty of improvised solos strung together by enormous, rootsy, big-sky choruses, that faded and returned like ocean waves crashing against your back, covering your head, swallowing you up, eating you whole.

The band sounded great, almost too great, almost like a Soundstage session. Every instrument was mic'd and the mix was full and balanced -- a huge departure from O'Leaver's NOMO show last year, where the band could barely fit onto the "stage," where the audience was practically on top of them, where only two or three mic's were available. The O'Leaver's show was like a seedy white-trash backyard party, hot and drunk, with the best band in the world playing right in front of you. It was dirty and raw and completely unexpected, and as a result, utterly remarkable.

Last night's show, while just as musically thrilling, was, well, cleaner, nicer, more professional, more rehearsed. The mob of dirty freeway gypsies that performed at O'Leaver's a year ago had been transformed into a first-rate stage ensemble fit for the Holland Center. All night I anticipated a repeat of how they closed their set at O'Leavers -- when the band paraded into the crowd (What the hell are they doing?!) for a final cathartic moment, coaxing every drunk to sing a wordless call-and-response chorus. It happened again last night, too, but when the time came, the band announced its intentions, then strolled (not marched) to the floor. It was still the evening's emotional high-water mark -- NOMO, surrounded by an audience of drunken, suburban dancers in the dark, desperately trying to find their roots, whether it was their roots or not.

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Because I think you might be too lazy to reach forward with your index finger and click on a link that would take you to the review, here's the write-up I did after the last time NOMO was in town, back in June 2006:

Yeah, they were that good. This is a must-see show, and for the mere cost of a movie ticket. It's worth losing sleep over. You will not be disappointed. Playing with NOMO is The Kevin Pike & John Kotchian Duo. $8, 9 p.m.

And it just so happens that tonight is the musician's open house at Slowdown from 6 to 8 p.m., so all you pros can get well-lubed before heading back uptown for the show.

Tomorrow in Lazy-i, an interview with Sarah Benck and The Robbers.

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Only around 200 people paid to see Tortoise last night, a band that sells out shows just about anywhere else. But this is, after all, Omaha. And yet, the band couldn't have been too dissatisfied eyeballing the crowd from stage. The main room was packed to the gills with star-struck gawkers who never thought they'd ever see the band in Omaha, let alone in the intimate confines of The Waiting Room.

I freely admit to not being a follower of Tortoise, having only heard a few of their tracks online. I can't say I'm a complete convert after last night, either, though I dug what I heard and saw. Unlike other instrumental bands (Tristeza, The Album Leaf, etc.) the Tortoise guys were actually having a good time, judging by the grins on their faces. They were five dudes in constant motion, circling the stage, trading instruments from song to song. The guy handling guitar on one song would be behind a drum kit on the next before moving to a vibraphone and then to guitar. Constant shifts without a drop in quality, like a team of astronauts able to flawlessly perform each other's maneuvers just in case one of them accidentally gets jettisoned.

For the uninitiated, Tortoise's music is like listening to the real cool parts of the Risky Business soundtrack -- you know, the scene where Joel and Lana make it on the train? Like that, but with the added cacophony of multiple percussion and the occasional roaring guitar. There's a clean precision to their angular, jazzy compositions that seemed almost mathematical, though they left plenty of room to stretch beyond the sonic circuitry. The set-up involved two drummers (sometimes), a bass (sometimes two), guitarist (sometimes two) a keyboard/synthmaster, and two vibraphones (one acoustic, one digital) on either side of the stage. Video images were projected on the screen behind them -- subtle digital graphics that bordered on screensavers. The hottest moments were when two drummers stared each other down from opposing drum kits set up at the front of the stage. Nice.

Only one flaw stood out amidst all that precision: About three songs into the set the drummer stopped and said, laughing, "I can't play this." He couldn't hear the bass in his headphones. "We'll try it again." But they never could get it worked out. "OK, moving on." It was more amusing than annoying. The only other criticism is in the "sameness" of their music, which rarely shifted tempo or dynamics -- songs bled into each other -- it was more of an experience than a series of musical moments. You left with a sense of what Tortoise sounds like, not with the memory of an individual song.

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The Faint are a phenomenon. I mean that with all sincerity, and without even seeing them perform last night. I got to Sokol just after 8 to catch The Berg Sans Nipple. I guess you'd call them a percussion duo -- both guys played drums and other percussion instruments while also playing a variety of noise makers, synths, loops, a melodica. Each song (if you can call them that) is built upon a repeated rhythm, usually something throaty and tribal, dense and meaty. I only noticed one of the guys actually singing once during the set - the rest of the time the vocals were sampled or prerecorded, allowing them to concentrate on whatever they were pounding on at the moment. At times, there was a sort of Blue Man Group vibe going on, other times, Eno. I've heard them compared to Air, probably because one of the guys is French, but I didn't notice a resemblance. By the time their set ended, the floor already was 3/4 filled and the heat was just beginning to rise.

It's been a long time since I've been to a show upstairs at Sokol. After going to The Waiting Room and Slowdown the last few weeks, Sokol seems a bit war-torn, but it's still one of the biggest rooms in town and a perfect setting for shows like this, with its huge sound system made even huger last night thanks to the enormous wall of subwoofers stuffed under the stage. For the first time in memory, a large steel barrier was set up in front of the stage, with a small army of blue t-shirt-clad security guys patrolling the alley like pitbulls (standard issue at sold-out Sokol shows, I'm told). In fact, I've never seen that many security guys at a Sokol show before (or maybe I never noticed them). The usual security precautions were in effect outside the venue, with more blue shirts frisking people on the way in -- this time confiscating cigarette lighters, it was kind of like going through security at the airport. And with the recent advent of bottle-throwing incidents, every beer was poured into a plastic cup, taking away opportunities for rowdies to wing empties at the band. Who needs chickenwire fencing?

After BSN finished I decided to take off, and was told twice - once by a security guy, once by a cop - that if I stepped through that turnstile I wasn't coming back "DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" Yeah, yeah, I get it. Instead, I stood in the entryway and chatted with a couple people while a small army of ticketgoers got scanned in - most of whom were 7 or 8 years old when Media came out in '98. The Faint's crowd is a young crowd, and seems to get younger every year.

Before I left I got a taste of those subs when Services - a synth duo whose keyboard racks were donned with florescent shop lights - kicked into their set. The bass was bone-rattling, startling. I could only imagine how loud it was going to be for The Faint. Or how hot it would be inside Sokol. It was a sweatbox standing in the doorway, and their set wasn't going to start for another hour and a half.

The Faint are an enigma. They haven't released a record since 2004 and their crowds just seem to grow larger. I've heard a few of their new songs at The Waiting Room in March. Some critics have pointed out that they seem less keyboard-driven and more straight-up rock. To me, the new stuff doesn't stray much from Wet at Birth (which, by the way, was a pretty good album no matter what anyone says. Not as good as Danse Macabre, but that record ultimately will define their career). Imagine how huge they could be if they released a record that stretched their sound even further, instead of merely repeating themselves.

Well, if you missed it, you'll get another chance tonight at Sokol Aud, where The Faint plays with Eagle*Seagull and Flowers Forever. As of this writing, it's not sold out. Tickets are $15, show starts at 8 sharp. It's a quiet weekend for shows thus far. Saturday at 8 p.m. Ted Stevens, Dan McCarthy and the ANALOG arts ensemble will present music from James Joyce’s Ulysses at the First Central Congregational United Church of Christ, 421 S. 36th Street (just south of Harney Street, just south of Kiewit Plaza and the Blackstone Hotel, just southwest of Mutual of Omaha, just southeast of McFoster's). It's free, in celebration of Bloomsday.

Speaking of free, Little Brazil and Drakes Hotel are doing an in-store at Homer's downtown Saturday at 1 p.m.

Sunday's a big night for shows. Tortoise plays at The Waiting Room Sunday night with Lichens. $15, 9 p.m. Brimstone Howl plays down at Sokol Underground with Barter the Trigger, Keep and Confess, & Eustace. $7, 9 p.m. And Bloodcow tears up O'Leaver's with Filthy Few and Lotto Ball Show, 9:30 p.m., $5.

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The Faint start a two-night residency at Sokol Auditorium tonight with a sold-out show that features Team Love recording artist The Berg Sans Nipple. I'm listening to Along the Quai as I type this (you can too, here). I'm actually looking more forward to seeing them than The Faint, who I just saw at The Waiting Room a few months ago. Other than maybe 311, no other band with Omaha origins puts on a funner show, especially if you're 16 and uninhibited. Yeah, I know, 311 blows musically blah-blah-blah, but there's no denying that they get a crowd into it. I know from personal experience, having been caught up in one of their pseudo jump/moshpits at a Ranch Bowl show 100 years ago, a scene that I've seen repeated at every one of their shows since (from a distance, that is). The Faint also get the crowd jumping, from the stage back to the soundboard, a hot, sweaty dance ritual served up at ear-splitting decibels (bring your earplugs, you'll need them). The Berg Sans Nipple doesn't play dance music, or at least this album doesn't sound like something that would get teens doing a sloppy Midwestern version of The Pogo. The duo plays spacey, ambient rock that borders on trip-hop, with some nice rhythms and pretty bell-keyboards, synth noises and loops. I like it. I'm not sure the kids will get it, though. Also on the sold-out bill tonight is Brooklyn synthmasters Services, who probably will get the crowd moving. If you don't have tickets tonight, a second Faint show has been added tomorrow night with Eagle*Seagull and Flowers Forever ($15).

Directly following The Faint is the "soft opening" of GOO at Slowdown. Val Nelson says GOO is a "party for dancing" hosted by Jacob Thiele and Todd Fink of The Faint, as well as Derek Presnall from Tilly and the Wall/Flowers Forever. "The basic concept is a dance party. All night the previously mentioned gentlemen will be spinning records," Val said. Maybe as much as a concert space, Slowdown is well-designed to host this sort of rave-up dance party (though I'm not sure the room is properly equipped with the necessary strobes). Admission is free, and this is an 18+ event (according to Val), which would seem to fly in the face of the all-ages policy at Slowdown. Sorry kids.

Also tonight, The Filter Kings open for Wayne Hancock at The Waiting Room. $12, 9 p.m.

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This week's column is an abbreviation and slight update to Monday's review of Slowdown's opening weekend. A post-script to that column -- I received word last night via electronic carrier pigeon that Slowdown now stocks Rolling Rock -- just more proof that whining to "the man" can make a difference.

Tonight at The Waiting Room, Ann Arbor band Canada along with local boys Spring Gun. I'm listening to Canada now via their Virb site. Virb must be a competitor to MySpace -- it was only a matter of time. Better sign-up your band now on Virb before someone steals your URL. I will say this -- it's better looking than MySpace and the music player doesn't automatically begin playing when you get to a band's page. Spring Gun also has a Virb page (here). Nifty. Anyway, Canada features guitars, drums, cellos, glockenspiels, melodicas, Rhodes piano, organ and accordians, and sort of reminds me of Okkervil River. The show starts at 9, $7.

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A few final observations on Slowdown before we move on to other things. The spotlight has been on the club for a couple weeks now. The hype machine is beginning to wind down, as it does with every shiny new toy (even though we haven't really had a chance to play with it very much). I went there last night, just to catch the ambiance on an off night, a night without live music, without crowds. There was only a handful of people there -- maybe 10? -- at 8 o'clock. A young couple played Chinese checkers in the booth next to ours, while on the other side, the owners and bookers talked shop out of earshot (I got my drink instantly, btw, though it wasn't a Rolling Rock).

In the light of early evening, with its divider wall secured, blocking off the stage, Slowdown isn't that much different than any other classy West Omaha lounge but with better furniture and a sense of openness provided by those glass garage doors and floor-to-ceiling windows that look out to an empty field to the West, a field that one day may hold a baseball stadium. The music was low-key indie rock piped over the house sound system at levels that allowed conversation but not whispering. I assume it got rowdier after 10. It was, after all, a Monday night, and who parties on Mondays? A nice, comfortable place to grab a drink.

* * *

It dawned on me that I forgot to mention that Lazy-i was honored with the 2007 Excellence in Journalism Award from the Omaha Press Club. The category was "Best Column-Print," and the entry was the Fun City column that ran last June. Judges consisted of editors from the East Bay Press Club, San Diego Press Club, and the LA Press Club. Among those presiding over the awards banquet June 2 was Omaha World-Herald columnist Robert Nelson, or so I'm told. I wasn't there to accept the award, having found out last-minute about the competition (I didn't even know I was entered). Anyway, it's an honor, and I look forward to seeing the award plaque if I ever get out to The Reader's new offices on 24th and M.

* * *

When was the last time you were at Sokol Underground? It's been months for me. Well, there's a good reason to venture down tonight: Ladyfinger and Fathr^ are opening for Hydrahead artist Big Business (ex-Murder City Devils, Melvins, Karp, The Whip) and Relapse artist Minsk (ex-Buried at Sea). Collaborating for this Fathr^ performance will be James Cuato (ex-Jazzwholes) on saxophone. Tickets are $10 via Ticketmaster (that's right, this isn't a One Percent show). 8 p.m.

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A recap of my personal Slowdown experience, Saturday night: I caught an early movie at The Dundee and got there at around 10:30. The parking lot that had been filled Thursday night had a space open just a few feet from the building. Could this be a trend?

I walked around the corner past the outdoor smoking area (which, for some reason, was surrounded by security guys in black Slowdown "staff" T-shirts) and ran smack-dab into a waiting line maybe 20-people deep. Two young guys got in line behind me and asked about the hold-up. "Sounds like they're at capacity," I said. "This could be a while. That means there are 500 people in there. Imagine how long it will take to get a beer?"

Just the mention of the capacity situation caused four people around us to leave the line. The guy behind me grinned. "And I heard the bathrooms don't work. I bet it smells something fierce in there." No one budged, but it was a good idea.

By the time we got to the front of the line, the two guys behind me gave up. Fifteen minutes of waiting and I was in, and the place was just as I imagined it -- a wall of darkly lit humanity bustling around on Slowdown's shiny concrete floors, mulling beneath the stage, standing in a queue at the photo booth. While taking it all in at railing, club owner Robb Nansel said hello and I congratulated him on his success. "If this keeps up, you'll earn another million dollars." I pointed at the crowded bar. "I'm not even going to try to get a beer."

He gave me a look. "It's not that bad. Let's time it." So we stood there, but it only took a minute before Nansel was pulled away to take care of some business. Ladyfinger had just ended their set, so the push to the bar was at an apex. Surrounding me was the usual indie crowd I've seen at other shows, along with band members and a few beefy young guys with caps turned backwards, probably hoping to scope out some action, but quickly discovering that an indie rock show is no place to pick up some trim. Mixed in with everyone else were older people, relatives of those involved with the club, out to show their support. I likely won't be seeing them there again.

Ten minutes. Young girls, all under-age judging by the crosses on their fists in magic marker, figured out that if they kneeled up on one of the high-rise bar chairs they could lean over and get a bartender's attention. It worked. Slowly, I actually began to make progress toward the bar. Nansel came back and tapped me on the shoulder. "Fifteen minutes," I said. His eyes widened, he grinned and disappeared again. The woman next to me was someone's relative, down from Falls City. Another older guy said, "Imagine how much beer they could have sold if they had a second temporary bar over here." Laughs. Then, more waiting.

I pointed out celebrities working behind the bar. There's Roger Lewis filling a tub with Old Style tall boys. There's Steph Drootin doing something with a bar rag. I think that dark-haired woman is Orenda Fink. It was like being at The Hacienda in Manchester and having Joy Division or Happy Mondays serving the drinks.

The woman next to me had tag-teamed the bar with her boyfriend -- just like when you go to the grocery store with your spouse and each of you pick a line, then switches to the whoever gets to the register first. She gathered up her drinks -- everyone was ordering two or three apiece so they wouldn't have to go through the ordeal again -- and looked at me as if she were climbing onto a lifeboat while the ship was sinking, and frowned. Then she became more animated than she'd been waiting for service and began frantically waiving down a bartender. I got distracted by Chris Esterbrooks (Inktank Merch, No Blood Orphan) who asked me to get him an Old Style tallboy if I ever got any service. When I turned around, there was bar manager Ryan Palmer, explaining that I was standing at the wrong place. "You really need to stand by 'the well.' We're going to put signs up sometime soon." I thought he was going to tell me to move down and start over. But no, he asked what I was drinking.

I remember the e-mail I got from Nansel's partner, Jason Kulbel, telling me to come by on Thursday: "I think we have a Rolling Rock for you."

"Give me a couple Rolling Rocks and an Old Style tallboy."

"We don't sell Rolling Rock."

Ugh. I quietly fumed, but realize I'm probably the only guy in Omaha that drinks Rolling Rock. "OK, how about a couple bottles of Bud Light?"

Nope. We sell it, but we're out. I settled for two Old Style tallboys ($5) -- a mistake, because I had forgotten how much I hate Old Style -- a beer brewed to taste like it's been sitting behind the back seat of an El Camino for three hot weeks in July. Skunky. Flat. Horrible. Just how I'm sure other people view Rolling Rock.

So, 24 minutes to get a beer, but what did you expect? It's opening weekend fercrissakes. What would it have said about the bar if I could have gotten a beer in two minutes?

I know that's not much of a review of the place, but what more is there to say? The sound system is state-of-the-art. Even and balanced wherever you stood, but not too loud as you couldn't at least talk/yell at the person next to you -- I felt no need to wear earplugs. The sightlines are faultless. The view from the balcony is stellar, and there's enough room to stand around and chat up there without bothering people around you.

The next morning while getting gas at the A&B I ran into someone who was at Slowdown the night before, a guy who's a regular at punk shows. What'd you think? "I hated it," he said with a scowl. "It's alienating. I felt out of place."

I wasn't surprised by his comment.

In some ways, Slowdown has the same albatross hanging over it that The Music Box did. When that club opened, the general consensus was "great stage, great sound, nice and clean." O'Leaver's, The Niner and Sokol were the competition -- dark, smoky, dirty bars that had been serving drinks for decades. The Music Box, which started out smoke-free, seemed like a nice alternative. Maybe too nice. Maybe a bit antiseptic, a bit sterile, a bit like a Holiday Inn lounge. It never shook that reputation. The fact that they booked mostly middle-of-the-road pop rock bands and rarely booked indie or punk shows added to their vanilla reputation.

Given a choice between going to The Music Box or the dank, lived-in O'Leaver's was no choice at all. Within a year, The Music Box changed its smoking policy. Eventually, it died, supposedly due to insurance and other money issues. The cursed building that housed it was finally razed last year for a 24 Hour Fitness.

Midtown show-goers will have a similar choice now -- between going downtown to the sparkling clean Slowdown or over to the smoky, more lived-in Waiting Room in Benson. The decision will be easy for anyone turned off by Slowdown's glitz (even though there's nothing glitzy about the crowd that was there Saturday night). Some people will never feel comfortable surrounded by nice things.

In its defense, The Slowdown is no Music Box. Yes, it's clean and loungy and boasts a no-smoking policy, but unlike the Box, it knows what it wants on its stage -- College Music Journal (CMJ)-style indie rock, and nothing more (or less). That targeted vision will likely see it through it's month-later doldrums -- because you can't judge the success of this or any club based on its first weekend. Come back in a month, when no band is playing and see how it swings.

Tonight at The Waiting Room, Landon Hedges' other band, Fine Fine Automobiles with Chris McCarty. 9 p.m., $7.

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When I interviewed Robb Nansel and Jason Kulbel last Friday for this story about Slowdown, they mentioned that while their countdown clock on their website shows the opening day to be June 8, that they were planning a "quiet opening" on Thursday (last night) "but that's not for publication." The idea was to get the bar rolling before "getting hit by a train" of business the following day. Then yesterday word leaked out that Bright Eyes might play for the "quiet opening." Well, so much for the silence. Rumors spread quickly on the Internet. I swung down to Slowdown last night at around 10, figuring I'd stop in for a quick Rolling Rock before I head out to The Waiting Room for the No Blood Orphan show. I drove by the building along 14th street, saw the line to get in and the crowds of people standing around inside and kept right on driving, not in the mood for a mob scene which I figured I'd be experiencing Friday and Saturday night down there anyway. Omahype.com has brief a write-up about last night's BE show, with pictures (here).

I got to The Waiting Room just in time to catch the last song of Landing on the Moon's set (which sounded great, btw). There were maybe 60 people there; some thought the attendance was hurt by the Slowdown show. In fact, Artsy Golfer didn't play as scheduled. Instead, Jake Bellows and Ryan Fox performed a duo-guitar soundscape standing on the floor in front of the stage. Then came No Blood Orphan performing songs off their new CD, Robertson Park (see yesterday's review). Pretty awesome. So you have a great CD, a great live band, why not hit the road, guys? When I talked to the band last year, serious touring wasn't in the cards, and it doesn't sound like it's going to be for this CD, either, but you never know.

So tonight is the "real" grand opening of The Slowdown, and I have a friendly wager with one of the musicians performing tonight that the show will sell out (I think it will; he doesn't). If they can cram the place for a "quiet opening," I have to believe the official ribbon-cutting will be just as crazy, especially with a six-band line-up that includes Capgun Coup, Flowers Forever, Now Archimedes!, Art in Manila, Domestica and Little Brazil, all for just $2. Performances begin at 7, according to The Slowdown site. Parking could be a question mark, as the lot was filled last night.

Tomorrow night's Slowdown schedule looks just as robust, with Mal Madrigal, The Terminals, Ladyfinger, Bear Country and Neva Dinova. Show starts at 8 and again costs only $2.

Don't feel like a mob scene? Slowdown isn't the only game in town this weekend. The Waiting Room is hosting BrakeBrakesBrakes tonight with Pela & Electric Soft Parade. 9 p.m., $10. Tomorrow night you have Scott Severin and his band at The Saddle Creek Bar with Matt Whipkey, Sarah Benck and Thousand Houses, $5, 9 p.m., while TWR has The Mercurys with John Henry Band, 9 p.m., $7; and Local H is playing at Sokol Underground with The Goddamn Rights; $10/$12, 9 p.m. Sunday at TWR is The High Strung with Kyle Harvey, $8, 9 p.m.

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The comments from Robb Nansel and Jason Kulbel in the column below came from the same interview that spawned the Slowdown feature story. About two thirds into the interview, when I began asking questions about Saddle Creek, Nansel said, "Waitaminit. Is this story going to be about Slowdown or is it a label update?" Why, it's both, Robb. But in the end, the feature stayed focused on Slowdown and the label comments ended up in this column. A couple things that didn't make it in: How did the Polydor deal (Cassadaga was released on Saddle Creek Records in North America and Polydor everywhere else) impact Saddle Creek? "It didn't impact us at all," Kulbel said. "It certainly had an impact on the London operations. It was a lot less work for them this summer and spring. We certainly had a very long advanced warning (about the move to Polydor). They had been looking around for something for months."

"We would have preferred to release it ourselves," Nansel said.

"It was a bummer, but I was never bummed," Kulbel added. As hard as I tried, I wanted to include that golden quote in either story, but it just didn't work out. We also talked about working with Target on Saddle Creek releases. "We've dealt with them on three record cycles," Nansel said. "Wide Awake, Digital Ash and Cursive's Happy Hollow, and now the new Bright Eyes record. Only a select number of records are accepted in their stores. I would say it does pay off, on average. It typically pays off more times than not."

"If the band involved begins with the letter B," Kulbel added. There were a few other things, but the bulk of it is below.

Tonight at The Waiting Room it's the CD release party for the latest release by No Blood Orphan, Robertson Park. On the new collection, Mike Saklar and Co. have taken their songcraft to new levels. I know that statement sounds like so much bullshit, but you know what? It's true. Take "Streets Shine of This" fer instance. With its simple backbeat melody, lush organ tones and Saklar's usual killer guitar solos, it sounds like a modernized version of an early Rolling Stones song. Saklar's voice even sports a bit of a Mick Jaggar sneer when he spits out lines like "I can see that you're drinking / I can see that you're drunk." The entire disc has a swelling ensemble appeal, very reminiscent of some of the Saddle Creek recordings, specifically Bright Eyes records. Yeah, yeah, I know. Why bother making the comparison? Believe me, it's only in the arrangements. "Heart-less Days Sun-less Nights" is a good example, especially early in the track when the bell-tone keyboards dance above the thrumbing rhythm section. Again, it's Saklar's and Bartolomei's guitars that set it apart. The guitar tone is rougher, grittier, especially when Saklar and keyboard player Chris Esterbrooks share the counter melody midway through a song that runs for nearly eight minutes without becoming boring. How long will this song go on when they're on stage tonight? I generally prefer the rockers more than the solemn ballads, like the soothing, summer-y "Apples," which reminds me of early American Music Club. Those songs do the job of breaking up the recording, adding some needed dynamics and variety, though I know the crowd may be impatient waiting for the next rock tune during their set. Underlying a number of melodies ("Streets Shine...", "Queen") is a sharp tonal quality that gives the music an almost Soviet-flavored essence, certainly a foreign edge that is both familiar and alien to typical rock music, at least from this era. At the end of the day, Robertson Park is a showcase for Saklar, his stunning guitarwork and a cast of A-list local talent drawn together behind a shared vision. Playing with No Blood Orphan, Creek-flavored supergroup Artsy Golfer (Roger Lewis, Ryan Fox, Steph Drootin and Alan Tanner), Landing on the Moon and Outlaw Con Bandana. $7, 9 p.m.

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Just posted, a massively long feature story about Slowdown, the new bar/music venue built by Saddle Creek Records' Robb Nansel and Jason Kulbel, which opens this weekend (read it here). The story includes a brief history of the project, a walk-through description, and discussion of the club's booking philosophy (Val Nelson and One Percent Productions), its all-age policy, smoking policy, and how the label fits into the equation, plus some nice photos from the fine folks at Paparazzi by Appointment.

There was a ton of information that didn't fit into the story, including why they went after Urban Outfitters ("We thought it was a good fit. It made sense."), why Yia Yia's Pizza is out and their search for a restaurant to take its place ("I don't think we'd want to put a sushi place next door. No knock on sushi."), and their thoughts about baseball stadiums ("We'd rather have that than an empty field."). I might weave that information into the initial reviews of the opening weekend. We also talked about the future of the music industry and Saddle Creek Records. Those comments will appear here in tomorrow's column.

Tonight at The Waiting Room it's San Diego singer/songwriter Steve Poltz with Omaha legend Kyle Harvey and alt rockers Western Electric (which includes members of Such Sweet Thunder). $8, 9 p.m.

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An all-local line-up is slated for the opening weekend of Slowdown. Here's the schedule of performers and set times. This provides a good indication of the kind of bands that will be booked at the club in the future. Doors open at 5 p.m.

Friday set times

7:00-7:30 Cap Gun Coup
8:00-8:30 Flowers Forever
9:00-9:30 Now, Archimedes!
10:00-10:30 Art in Manila
11:00-11:30 Domestica
12:00-12:30 Little Brazil

Saturday Set Times

8:00 Mal Madrigal
9:00 The Terminals
10:00 Ladyfinger
11:00 Bear Country
12:00 Neva Dinova

Bright Eyes on Letterman has become a non-event. I remember when any Omaha band on national television seemed like a miracle. Now it's just another reason to set your TiVo. Letterman introduced the band saying, "Get out your spectral decoders," while holding up a copy of the CD Cassadaga. The band was decked out in the same all-white ensemble that they've been wearing on tour. This was the first time that I noticed that Oberst is wearing white nail polish. I assume there was an Ed Sullivan moment backstage before the performance, where the producer looked over the lyrics to "Hot Knives" and said, "You're not singing this line, this 'Yeah, I've been fucked' line. Come up with something else." Instead, Oberst sang, "Yeah I've made love / In hand-cuffs / So what." I almost like the new line better. The rest of the performance was by-the-book Bright Eyes. It's always fun to see Mike Mogis on TV, though the mini orchestra looked a bit stage shocked, like a row of fish in a market, their eyes staring wide into the camera. Afterward, Letterman asked, "So who's from Nebraska." Conor half-raised his hand, then earnestly shook Letterman's hand with a smile and said off-mic "Thanks a lot." If you missed it, Bright Eyes is performing "Classic Cars" on the miserable Craig Ferguson show tomorrow night. These dates must have been scheduled in the wake of the Bright Eyes's seven-night sold-out stint at NYC's Town Hall, where he drug a plethora of special guests on stage to perform with him each night, including Lou Reed, Ben Kweller, Jenny Lewis, Jonathan Rice, Norah Jones and The Little Willies, Nick Zinner, Ben Gibbard, Ron Sexsmith and Britt Daniel. Rolling Stone online has a recap of the week here.

Tomorrow at Lazy-i, a long, detailed interview with Nansel and Kulbel on Slowdown.

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A late update on a Monday when I'm under the weather... This week's blog entries will be dominated by coverage of the opening of Slowdown this Friday evening. Look for an enormous interview with owners/operators Jason Kulbel and Robb Nansel Wednesday where they talk about all aspects of the new club, from the sound system to the booking policy. Also look for for the story on the cover of this week's issue of The Reader. This Thursday's column will focus on stuff that didn't make it into the story -- specifically, the duo's view of Saddle Creek Records (where it's been and where it's heading) as well as some more details about The Slowdown project. I spent a few hours Friday evening at Slowdown and can tell you it's everything you heard it was going to be and more.

This just in, Bright Eyes will be performing tonight on Late Night with David Letterman. He's also scheduled to be on the horrible Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson June 6.

Tonight at O'Leaver's, intern Brendan Greene-Walsh's band Life After Laserdisque takes the stage with Voodoo Organist, who Brendan swears is a joy to behold. $5, 9:30 p.m.

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I think last night was the first time I've had trouble finding parking in Benson, which makes sense since there were three shows including the sold-out Cursive show going on. I found one, though, and was pleasantly surprised to see my name on two separate guest lists. It was the most packed I've ever seen The Waiting Room, more packed than the Faint show even.

Malpais was up first featuring guitarist/vocalist Greg Loftis. Denver Dalley was not in the house, he was in LA I guess. Loftis says he's still writing songs with Denver, but that he's a tough one to pin down. So's Loftis for that matter. Backing him were four local musicians. So including Loftis, there were three guitars, a bass and drums. I'm told that the supporting cast was a supergroup of musicians who have been surviving just under the indie/Creek radar for almost a decade and included former members of Mandown and Split Second. Talented chaps, all, especially the bass player. Of course, none of the music that they played even remotely resembled the tracks that Loftis had e-mailed me. There was no cooing Simon and Garfunkel vocals -- apologies to anyone who read my write-up yesterday. Loftis said since he was opening for Cursive, he had to bring the rock, which he did -- a straight-up back-beat brand of rock influenced more by '70s FM than current-day indie, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. The style was slightly all over the place -- probably because it was the band's first gig ever. Also for the first time, sound mix at TWR was muddy and unbalanced. Still, not bad for a first show, which just happened to be a sold-out gig for Cursive. The band closed with a song from Loftis's other band, An Iris Pattern. He told me afterward that An Iris Pattern has essentially morphed into Malpais (which I guess means An Iris Pattern no longer exists). Loftis said the band is headed into ARC Studios later this month to record, and also will lay down some tracks at Bassline.

The Narrator was next -- a four-piece indie rock band from Chicago that sports two vocalists who share frontman duties. Their style is indie slacker-chic both in sound and appearance. I heard echoes of early Pavement, Superchunk and late-'90s Lawrence punk bands (one song sounded like an old Vitreous Humor track -- an act I'm sure they've never heard of). These guys have played Omaha and Lincoln a few times, and even took a moment to thank all those who had caught them playing with Gnome Slaughterhouse down at Sokol. The crowd seemed to get into it, and the band knew that Cursive was the main event. And as it happened, last night was The Narrator's first show on their tour, while it was Cursive's last.

(Colorful aside: Throughout the evening I leaned against the wall over by the "employees only" door, which swung open all night as various band members entered and exited the backstage green room. During The Narrator set, a shortish, big-necked guy asked me if I was security. When I told him I wasn't, he said "Go back there, man, there's a room full of beer. Just go back there and take some." Then he handed me a Miller Lite. "Here, take one." I grabbed the beer and set it on the shelf I was leaning on, showed him my Rolling Rock and told him I'd have it later. "Dude, what kind of music does Cursive play? Is it louder than this?" I told him it was super loud. "Because maybe you can help me get a moshpit going in front of the stage. All's anyone seems to be doing here is standing around." I explained that while Cursive plays an abrasive punk-influenced rock, it's not really designed for moshing. There is no driving straight-four hard-core rhythms. He looked a bit disappointed. "Well, I'm going up front to push people around anyway. I hope they don't mind." He came back about five minutes later and asked for the Miller Lite back. Needless to say, there was no moshing.)

Cursive came on stage dressed for the occasions -- in tuxedoes. Tim Kasher even wore tails. But despite the formalwear, the set started out a bit rough. Kasher's voice seemed somewhat worse for wear -- understandable after a month-long tour. The way he screams I don't know how he manages to even talk the next day. The rest of the band also seemed a bit off kilter, a bit sloppy. I wasn't the only one who noticed. "You know what that's called?" Kasher said about 15 minutes into the set. "That's called phoning it in. I just phoned it in. I'm looking at a roomful of strangers tonight." No idea what that meant. Was he being ironic? The band had at least 50 people on their guest list. He went on to tell the audience to forget the first five songs. "We're starting right now." It was kind of like he rebooted the band. The next 45 minutes was first-tier Cursive, Kasher even sang better. They ripped through most of Happy Hollow, which sounded great live. This was the first time I'd seen them perform with their little horn section, and for the most part, it worked. The band also performed a couple songs from Domestica and The Ugly Organ. Kasher apologized for his manic behavior. "I love all of you guys again," he said toward the end of the set. "I'm back." The band returned to the stage for a two-song encore that started with "Big Bang." Standing off stage left was former Cursive drummer Clint Schnase. A few moments into the song, Ted Stevens handed his guitar to Schnase, who took the stage and played along with the rest of the band while Stevens tooted on a clarinet. After the song ended, he handed the guitar back to Stevens, and then disappeared into the crowd.

I will say this: Cursive's new drummer is pretty freakin' good. I didn't think anyone would be able to take over the kit from Schnase, but whoever this guy was, he did the trick. He has a different style -- it's less compact and precise as Schnase's, but has a similar bombastic quality. No idea who he was (he's probably a some sort of legend, which shows you what I know) or if he's going to be a permanent member of the band. Kasher said he was off to LA today to spend the summer in the Golden State. What happens next is anyone's guess, though there's a completed Good Life CD just waiting to be released by Saddle Creek.

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Add yet another local musician to the list of local talent that's moving away from "The Heartland" (what a horrible phrase). The Show Is the Rainbow's Darren Keen e-mailed me to say that he's moving to Orlando Florida on July 1. Why? "I am moving because my best friends' band, YIP-YIP, live in Orlando and a spot opened up in their house. It's going to be very fun to live with them," Keen said.

I mention this because The Show Is the Rainbow is playing at The Waiting Room tonight. Keen said he doesn't consider it a going away gig. "I'll probably book a show in Lincoln, too," he said, adding that any June dates could be his last in Nebraska for awhile. "I'll be back on tour like three times a year though. Duh!!! I'm stoked. Orlando is warm and awesome." That it is, Darren. That is is. Playing with TSITR is Talkin Mountain & FTL Drive. $7, 9 p.m.

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Lots of Lincoln dudes in town tonight. Other than Keen, Ideal Cleaners and Domestica are playing over at O'Leaver's with The Monroes. $5, 9:30 p.m. Good times.

As for the rest of the weekend:

Punk rock's angry bastards The Shanks are playing at O'Leaver's Saturday night with Scott Severin and The Upsets -- $5, 9:30 p.m.

And The Waiting Room is doing up alt-country Saturday night with The Weary Boys, The Black Squirrels and The Prime Time Pickers. $10, 9 p.m.

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I hadn't planned on going to tonight's Cursive show at The Waiting Room. Not because I didn't want to go, but because I didn't have a ticket. The gig sold out fairly quickly, which is understandable considering the room's capacity (225 or so). Then I got an e-mail from Greg Lofits of Malpais, who is opening the show tonight. A few weeks ago, Loftis had sent me a couple mp3s of tracks he and Denver Dalley (the other half of Malpais) had been working on -- very Simon and Garfunkel, very laid-back and cool, combining Denver's trippy guitar and synth sounds heard on Statistics recordings with Loftis' cooing voice. Loftis said he could put me on the guest list for tonight's show. That said, we're talking about the same Loftis I wrote about here. He could have been in Israel or Prague when he sent me that e-mail, so I won't be surprised if the door guy searches through the list tonight, than looks up at me and says, "No. There's no 'Tim McMahan' on here," which will result in me standing on the sidewalk outside of The Waiting Room, shaking my fist to the sky and yelling James T. Kirk-style (a la Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan) "LOFTIS!!!" while the camera pulls back, into the sky.

Seriously, though, if you have tickets, you're in for a great show. Cursive just got off a national tour opening for indie metal monsters Mastodon and Against Me, playing auditorium-size venues. Now they'll have to bring the sound down for a smaller room. It'll also be the first time for me to see/hear their new drummer. Also playing tonight, Chicago post-punkers The Narrator. Get there at 9, though, and check out Malpais' stage debut.

If my worst fears are realized, however, and I'm turned away at the door, I'll be strolling down to PS Collective, where The Protoculture will be playing their final show with Erica Hanton, who's moving to Portland with hubby Todd next month. This show should be rife with friends, family and students. Also playing, Outlaw Con Bandana. 8 p.m., no idea on the cover.

Of course, the other big show tonight is Propagandhi, w/Hiretsukan and GFK at Sokol Underground. Ironic, considering that Propagandhi has a similar following as Cursive. Too bad the two shows couldn't have been merged. $12, 9 p.m.

Also tonight in Benson, Bill Hoover plays at Mick's with Dylan May for a fundraiser for Liberty Elementary School. $5, 9 p.m.

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Niz over at the OWH reported yesterday (here) that that this year's August concert in Memorial Park will be headlined by Plain White T's, a flavorless pop-punk band that would be hard-pressed to sell out Sokol let alone draw thousands to the park. I hope the $50k that's being spent for the concert isn't going to the band. Imagine who they could have gotten to play for that much money. Modest Mouse? Arcade Fire? Wilco? Call this one Fahey's Folly. Oh well, people will still show up as long as the weather's good.

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I've heard rumor of The Bruces' Alex McManus working on some new material. I'm not sure where it will be released, though. His former label, Misra, has him listed as an "Alumni" and not a member of the current roster. Misra released 2004's The Shining Path and 2002's The War of the Bruces. Sometime last year, Misra and Absolutely Kosher kinda/sorta merged, or as they put it "announced a strategic partnership under which the management of both record labels will come together under one roof." Was The Bruces a casualty of that merger? I'm not sure, but I'm guessing Alex is now looking for a label. Team Love, anyone? I'm assuming by the show listing on The Waiting Room page that Simon Joyner will be performing solo tonight, without his backing band, The Fallen Men. According to the Mal Madrigal site, Steve Bartolomei and Co. have "sequenced two full length records. Disc one is moody and dark. Disc 2 leans more toward classic songwriter music. We want to master and release vinyl. We could use some help, but we'll do it ourselves if we have to." Methinks you'll hear some of the material from those recordings performed live tonight, when all three singer/songwriters play at The Waiting Room. 9 p.m., $7.

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We made our way from 84th street -- the center of Papillion -- cutting east toward 72nd to the mall, my brother driving his Honda SUV with confidence. There was no traffic problems, though as we approached the shopping Valhalla I noticed a couple people walking down the highway median carrying lawn chairs -- this was a good mile away from the shopping center. Surely parking couldn't be that bad?

As we turned into the outer reaches of the lot I spied Chris Esterbrooks (Inktank Merch, Virgasound) walking from an adjacent lot and yelled, "Chris, where did you park?" He pointed to a structure west the mall. The angry-looking soccer mom walking behind him grimaced and yelled all cocky, "There was plenty of parking there a minute ago, but it's gone by now." My brother called "bullshit" to her and continued to drive right into the mall parking lot. Was he crazy? We start-stopped past Best Buy and Borders, Old Navy and the AT&T store, and sure enough found plenty of spots in front of Penney's. The B-52's are a big deal, but they're not that big of deal. As we walked through the lot, I noticed even more parking in front of Bed Bath and Beyond and the Old World Market. Take that, soccer mom!

We were late, but we didn't care. I like the old B-52's old stuff, but never really cared for the Cosmic Thing album that pushed them over the top. All I wanted was to hear "Rock Lobster," and didn't mind if I missed everything else. My brother had scouted out the mall a week earlier -- he lives in Papillion. He gave us a brief tour of the "main street" where fountains bubbled outside of Victoria's Secret, the buildings designed to look like a turn-of-the-century urban canyon, all the while housing swank new Ann Taylor Lofts and C.J. Banks clothiers. This was a shopping Nirvana for someone, a place where you could pick up a Yankee Candle, grab a copy of the new Michael Chabon book at Borders, and choke down a sandwich at Red Robin all in an afternoon.

We had no idea where the concert was being held -- the only music we heard was Shania being pumped out the green Bose ground speakers buried beneath colorful, tasteful bits of landscaping. Just as we turned a corner, we were hit by a wall of noise. There in the parking lot outside of Hy-Vee was the enormous stage surrounded by suburban white America. On that stage, the size of ants, were presumably The B-52's belting out another in a series of bland party songs that they've become known for.

We made our way through an army of strollers to the other side of the crowd, where the tops of vendor tents pushed through the T-shirted, flip-flop-wearing mob. I hadn't eaten all day and was dying for something/anything, settling for a pair of $5 Hy-Vee Bratwursts that tasted like the best Bratwursts I've ever eaten. From our vantage point a good 150 yards from the stage we were still way too far to be able to see anything other than Fred Schneider's gay head in front of the black backdrop. Still, even from all the way back there, the sound was painfully loud. Waves of shrill high-end rolled over the sea of 10,000 warm-blooded natural sound barriers who weren't so much pre-occupied with what was going on on stage as trying to find out where they could find the cheap, plastic First National Bank cushions that were being used as ad hoc flying discs. Schneider, realizing that whatever was flipping through the air in front of the stage was too puffy to be a Frisbee asked, "What are you throwing at each other? Toilet seats?" It was one of those kind of days, a huge family event designed to get mom and dad and baby out of the house at least for one evening to see an old band they remembered from their college days, back when they were still hip. It was kind of like a Memorial Park concert, except no one had spread blankets over the cold hard pavement.

The B-52's sounded as good as I ever heard them on record, ripping through old hits like "Roam" and "Love Shack." I've never seen them live, and can only imagine what they must have been like back in their Athens heyday in the early '80s, playing clubs like the 40 Watt -- Athens' version of O'Leaver's. Now that sounds like fun. A lot more fun than seeing them rip through their AM radio hits while commenting, "Your new mall is so beautiful," and "Shop safe!" and "There must be a Papillion people out there!"

For some reason, they thought it would be a good idea to announce before every new song that they were going to play a new song. The comment resulted in a chorus of "uhhhs" from in the crowd. These families only wanting to hear "the good songs." (In fact, after they played "Love Shack" -- about three-quarters through their set -- a fleet of strollers headed back to their SUVS.) Well, if they liked Cosmic Thing, they didn't have anything to complain about. The B-52's new songs sounded like they were lifted right from that album. In fact, they're even more commercially focused then those old singles. You can't hear a song like "Let's Get This Party Started" with its roll-call of cities -- "Bostons! Houston! Omaha! LA!" -- and not think that these guys cashed in years ago. Their new music was created solely to generate marketing possibilities. These days it's not about writing a hit song, it's about having your song used to introduce a new line of Pontiacs or a new, improved brand of fabric softner -- a form of exploitation that bands like The B-52's do oh so well. Who knows how many Lincoln-Mercury-Plymouth dealers used "Roam" as the soundtrack to their TV ads boasting "0 Percent down, 0 Percent financing"?

After about an hour -- which I spent leaning against a light poll -- the band buttoned up their set, quickly coming back on stage for their encore, which included the song I came to hear. Yes, they may be commercial hacks. Yes, their '90s-era music may be cheesy and uninspired, but this band still has it. Schneider talk-sings as well as ever, and the Pierson/Wilson harmonies never sounded better. If ever a band needed someone like Rick Rubin to bring them back to their roots -- to the innovative party music heard on their debut -- it's The B-52's Instead, they'll be content making a living opening shopping malls (I bet their guarantee was $100k) and playing 4th of July city park concerts, hoping against all hope that Madison Avenue can figure out a way to use their latest release in a toilet paper commercial. "Watch out for that piranha!"

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After the 52's it was down to The Saddle Creek Bar for The Cripple Lilies, where I was surprised to find about 40 people on hand, a few who were there to actually see the band (and two people -- yes, two! -- who came on my recommendation). I felt like I disappointed them. The band struggled with the sound system for about 10 minutes before they played, complaining that they couldn't hear themselves, but eventually saying, "It's okay, we'll just sing louder." Instead of playing songs off their new CD, they played mostly older, alt-country rock-inspired material. They played only three songs off their new record during their brief, 30-minute set. Disappointing. I spent the rest of the evening talking to the band outside the venue, where frontman Chad Bishop explained that they couldn't play their "mellower" stuff because of the sound system and the feedback on stage, which I guess was only noticeable from the stage itself, because I couldn't hear it from the floor.

OK, here something that can only be called crazy fanaticism: The band's guitarist -- also from Pensacola -- apparently spent the afternoon walking around the neighborhood west of the SCB trying to find Happy Hollow Blvd. He's a huge Cursive fan and was dying to see the street that inspired their latest album. He's an even bigger Criteria fan. When I told him that Stephen Pedersen lived only a few blocks away, he practically swooned. He never found Happy Hollow, by the way, apparently giving up only a few blocks away from it. It gave me the idea of perhaps putting together a Star Map of Saddle Creek celebrity homes or buying a double-decker tour bus: "To my left, the home of The Finks -- Orenda and Todd. Darn, looks like they're not home, folks. Over here, the original home of Conor Oberst. No idea who the lucky indie kids are that live there now, but you just gotta believe they're soaking in the residual creativity… Next stop, ARC Studios and then onto the home of Beep Beep's Chris Hughes!" Imagine the ohs and ahs.

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Interesting Bright Eyes news. Apparently Conor got some help on the opening gig of his seven sold-out nights at Town Hall in NYC. According to this New York Times review by rock critic legend Jon Pareles, joining him on stage was none other than Mr. New York Rocker himself, Lou Reed, who performed "Waiting for the Man" and "Dirty Blvd." backed by Conor and Co. Who will be their special guests for the rest of the shows? Paul Simon? Bowie? David Johanssen?

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There's an interesting little show tonight at O'Leaver's: Washington D.C. indie band Deleted Scenes with Bear Country and Dance Me Pregnant. Not bad for a Monday night. $5, 9 p.m.

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Domestica have come into their own as the natural continuation of Mercy Rule, picking up right where that band left off earlier in the decade. They're now a tight, confident trio, a far cry from what I heard when they first played at The Brothers about a year ago. It's not like Heidi Ore and Jon Taylor aren't seasoned veterans already, but for this band, they've decided to play only new material, not stuff from the Mercy Rule catalog. Those new songs are beginning to stand on their own, similar to the old stuff but with a new spin, thanks partially to drummer Boz Hicks, who brings a different style to their music than Ron Albertson, partially because it reflects how they've grown over the past five or six years.

It's easy when writing about Domestica to simply compare them to Mercy Rule, as if everyone is already familiar with Flat Black Chronicles and Providence and God Protects Fools. Most people in The Waiting Room last night have never heard those albums. Why should they? They were released 8 or 9 years ago. Only the grizzled, seasoned Nebraska music followers remember that sound, and what would be the point of Heidi and Jon simply replicating it with a new band? There are common characteristics, however, that they can't and shouldn't escape, such as Heidi's thin, sweet, girl-next-door vocals that have a way of growling or fading with emotion. In stark contrast to Jon's white-knuckle post-punk guitar riffs, played on an ax slung practically to his knees. It is the epitome of loud-quiet-loud -- loud as in the guitar and bass, quiet as in Heidi's voice, loud as in the crashing, anthemic power ballads that they play. Domestica isn't so much a punk band as a power-rock band born out of acts like Superchunk and Husker Du, but with an even more-defined notion of melody, hooks and dynamics. Not so much a freight train as a rollercoaster ride. I hear that they're still talking about recording. They've tightened their set so much that they could probably lay down the tracks in a few days. They certainly have enough material for a full-length already.

Next up: These Are Powers. What do you call their style? New York post-punk noise dance music? The guy next to me called it artsy free-jazz Sonic Youth-inspired noodling with a touch of Yoko Ono. He also used the word "shitty," saying that he could climb up on stage and do a better job. I liked it, but I was also in the mood to hear loud, droning, shrill, siren noises that caustically repeated the same noise-phrase over and over for six, seven, eight minutes. During the second song, they stretched that to well over 10 in what was basically a throbbing duet between drummer Ted McGrath and frontwoman/guitarist/giantess Anna Barie while bassist Pat Noecker fiddled around with his bass and amp cables, feverishly trying to fix something wrong -- plugging and unplugging chords while a grip helped him move bass cabinets around the stage -- it was like a performance art piece. What held it together (for me, anyway) was McGrath's minimalist tribal drumming that was deceivingly intricate in its simplicity.

Finally, Head of Femur, who were originally supposed to play second but got moved to the headlining slot. I first saw these guys years ago as a trio, and that remains my favorite configuration. They've grown to five or six pieces, adding keyboards, and a violin, shifting their music to a style that -- at times -- leans dangerously close to jam-band fodder. They're a terrific, tight ensemble and are tough to pin down, varying their style not only from song to song, but within songs. The most common style comparison might be to Elvis Costello, thanks to some of the up-tempo keyboard-driven songs and Matt Focht's at times dead-on Costello vocals. Other times, however, they reminded me everything from The Allman Brothers to Phish. Quite a difference from the proggy style of their earlier years that recalled acts like Eno and Talking Heads, King Crimson and Flaming Lips. There's still some of that in there, though it seems they've smoothed out and popped-up their songs to something closer to mainstream rock. Still, a lot of fun.

Tonight at Saddle Creek Bar, The Cripple Lilies with Audrey and Barn Burning. $5, 9 p.m. or Young Galaxy at The Waiting Room with Landing on the Moon. $8, 9 p.m. And don't forget The B-52s in Papillion, if it doesn't get rained out. 7 p.m., free.

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The good news is that it was the best Protoculture set I've ever seen. The bad news is it's the last one I'll likely ever see.

Having seen them play mostly at places like O'Leaver's, it was nice to see The Protoculture sent off on The Waiting Room's superior sound system. For the first time drummer Koly Walters didn't sound like he was struggling to get his vocals heard, and as a result, he actually sounded like he was singing instead of screaming. Everything else was flawless, so much so that it was a shame they didn't get a board recording of the set for posterity's sake. That's gotta be the only reason they're releasing their new 8-song CD, which winged its way to my door via U.S. Postal yesterday. Impressive packaging (slim-pack, with nice art and black media). You can pick up your own copy via their Myspace page for $12 using PayPal. Look for copies at The Antiquarium, Homer's and Drastic, eventually. You'll be hearing songs (as we did last night) that were first played a decade ago, and still bear a style and structure that epitomize a golden era in Omaha's punk history but still stand on their own today thanks to their unique, arching sound. No one is doing anything as edgy as this anymore, and the 60 or so on hand last night knew it. They will be missed, but Clayton Petersen says he and Koly intend to somehow carry on without Erica. Stay tuned.

Anyway, if you missed them last night you can always catch them at their all-ages show at PS Collective next Thursday (May 31) with Outlaw Con Bandana. Kite Pilot will not be playing that show, so last night was really it for them. Again, not a bad way to go out -- on the best-sounding stage in Omaha. As one guy told me prior to their set, "It's a shame they're breaking up. I really started to like them after they became a three-piece." I think the best incarnation was the version heard on their debut EP, though their proto-punk dance routine last night was pretty catchy, especially when Erica switched from bass to electric guitar and began shredding, at one point blowing up the song altogether, forcing the band to start over at the second verse. A perfect sonic meltdown. Goodbye, Kite Pilot, and good luck.

* * *

Tonight it's back to The Waiting Room for These Are Powers, Head of Femur and Domestica. These Are Powers is former Lincolnite Pat Noecker's new band. Noecker was a member of seminal '90s band Opium Taylor. He went on to form Liars with Ron Albertson (ex-Mercy Rule), which released the critically hailed They Threw Us in a Trench and Stuck a Monument on Top on Gern Blandsten in 2001 before he and Ron left the band (why and how they left still remains told only in whispers). Pat and Ron went on to form N0 Things, who played at O'Leaver's in April 2006 (review here). Now comes These Are Powers, which, along with Noecker, features Anna Barie (ex-Knife Skills) and Ted McGrath. Their self-released 3-song 7-inch is in a similar vein as Noeker's last two bands -- dissonant, rhythmically throbbing, guttural, very much like that early Liars disc. Imagine air raid sirens blaring chaotically to a tribal beat. Interestingly, These Are Powers is headlining this show, with the much more locally known Head of Femur taking the second slot. According to The Reader, Femur has a new CD, and I'm sure we'll be hearing it tonight. Opening is Domestica, who have been playing quite a bit lately, more than I remember Mercy Rule ever playing. Word has it that Heidi broke her bass in a moment of rock theatrics during one recent show. Get there early. $8, 9 p.m.

What else is going on this weekend?

Well, tomorrow it's The Cripple Lilies at The Saddle Creek Bar. I'm certain that despite writing a column about this show that no one will be there, which means it'll be that much easier to get your drinks at the bar. $5, 9 p.m., w/Audrey and Barn Burning.

Also Saturday Night, Young Galaxy plays at The Waiting Room with Landing on the Moon. I'm listening to a copy of their self-titled Arts & Crafts release as I type this -- big, spacie, indie rock bordering on shoe-gazer. Guitar, bass, organ, drums, vocals, gorgeous stuff, lush and moody. $8, 9 p.m.

Also Saturday night at 7 p.m. is that free B-52s concert way out at Shadow Lake Towne Center, Nebraska Highway 370 and 72nd Street in Papillion. I just want to hear "Rock Lobster" once before I step into the new Bed, Bath and Beyond.

Finally, Little Brazil plays at Shag Sunday night with house band The Jazzwholes. Talk about your clash of styles. Wonder what those classy suburbanites who love the Jazzwholes will think of Landon and Co.'s white T-shirt-and-jeans punk? $5, 9:30 p.m. Hey you got Monday off. Why not?

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I never got a sense as to how this whole show fell into place. I asked Chad Bishop of The Cripple Lilies how he managed to find Saddle Creek Bar with all the clubs around town. He said he just looked at the tour history of one of our local bands that he likes and saw SCB listed. A few clicks on the Internet and voilà. "I was looking for a room under 200 or around 150. Most were too big for us," he said. "There's no way I could guarantee a club we could bring 200 people. Not even in Pensacola." As you'll read below, a lot of Bishop's comments are self-effacing, as if he already knows no one is ever going to discover his band no matter what he does. He summed up their career this way: "We play for people who come to our shows. We haven't had a show yet where people walk out on this tour. We have on other tours, but not this one. We're from the South where there's not a lot of press outlets or record labels, so we're fighting an uphill battle to begin with." It's a battle worth fighting.

Good grief, Charlie Brown. Seriously, if you dig this style of music, go to this show Saturday night. Hell, it's only $5.

And speaking of good shows going on, there's one tonight at The Waiting Room -- The Protoculture, Kite Pilot and Or Does It Explode. I wrote last week (here) about how this could be the last show for Kite Pilot, what with Erica Hanton and her husband moving to Portland next month. What I forgot to mention was that it's probably the last Protoculture show as well, seeing as Erica is in that band, too. So, here's your last chance, other than a tentative gig at PS Collective May 31, which just happens to also be the night of Cursive at TWR and Propagandhi at Sokol. Both Protoculture and Kite Pilot will also be celebrating the release of new CDs tonight. Go. $7, 9 p.m.

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One problem with The Saddle Creek Bar is that they don't promote their shows very well. Last night they had one of the better local-band line-ups that I've seen in a while: Paper Owls, Lincoln's Floating Opera, Drakes Hotel all opening for out-of-town band The Daredevil Christopher Wright. I found out about the show at around 7 last night. I mentioned it to someone online who said he would have gone had he known about it ahead of time. Was it on the Saddle Creek Bar calendar? I don't know because their site's show list looks all jumbled on my PC, dates overlapping dates. I've become too dependent on the Slam Omaha calendar (where SCB shows aren't listed) and other online sources for show info (SCB isn't the only venue with this problem. These days I have no idea who's playing at The 49'r now that their site is gone and they don't update their MySpace page). I guess the rule of thumb is to start looking at those show posters whenever I'm in the clubs.

The band order according to the e-mail I received yesterday was supposed to be Paper Owls, Drakes Hotel, Floating Opera and the out of town band. The order last night was Drakes Hotel, Floating Opera, the out of town band and Paper Owls. As a result, I missed Drakes, saw Floating Opera and wasn't willing to hang around for the last two bands. Drakes and Floating Opera were who I really wanted to see, having just seen Paper Owls a few weeks ago. I guess one of out two ain't bad. At least I got home early.

Floating Opera was a curiosity. I've heard their recordings over the years but have never seen them play. Last night the band consisted of a bass, keyboards, guitar, violin and vocalist. No drums. Seems like they had drums on their records. In fact, I remember them being a little bit "rockier" than last night's set of lullabies, sweet tunes that relied on the frowning candy-voiced front-woman, hidden behind a music stand, to carry the day. All the musicians were talented, but the songs were just too saccharine-flavored, except for one number that kinda rocked in a Dixie Chicks sort of way, but still came off limp without drums -- the bass, electric guitar and keyboards doing their damdest to provide a backbone while the violin filled in with quick-fingered arpeggios. They seemed uninspired, maybe because they were playing to around 20 people.

* * *

I mentioned a few weeks go in this here blog how when I interviewed Conor Oberst in February the only local band he mentioned liking was Capgun Coup. Well, Oberst repeated himself yesterday in Rolling Stone online (here). Says Oberst: "There's a band from Omaha that's amazing called Cap Gun Coup, they're my favorite Omaha band right now. It's a full band, four or five people, and they made this great record - it's sort of all over the place, pretty weird indie rock." So how much is it worth to be name-checked in Stone by Oberst? Will Merge (or Sony) be calling them to set up a record deal? What about Team Love?

* * *

Tonight is the start of three big evenings at The Waiting Room when The Bad Canadians open for San Francisco's The Dodos, a guitar-and-drum combo that sounds like an indie band backed by an Indian tribe. Hey, Matt, hate to break it to you, but there's already a band called Bad Canadians on Myspace, and they're from Spain!

* * *

Tomorrow in Lazy-i, an interview with the lovely Cripple Lilies, who are playing at the Saddle Creek Bar Saturday (now that's how you promote a show)…

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A few headlines and other things from the 'net to contemplate on this lazy Tuesday:

-- I was surprised to see local indie dance-rock band Go! Motion has hired a publicist. The band is being represented by Planetary Group, which boasts offices in LA, Boston and New York, and a roster that includes Tuatara, Saturna, Traindodge, Roman Numerals and Jonny Polonsky. According to the Planetary site, Go! Motion is hitting the road at the end of this month for a national tour that winds up at The Lit Lounge in NYC June 29. Check out Go! Motion's Planetary profile page.

-- Almost every morning I get a review e-mailed to me of the previous night's Cursive concert, and just about every review is the same. The writer, who's probably a die-hard metal fan, talks about what an odd fit Cursive is on the bill and how the crowd suffered through their set while waiting to hear tourmates Against Me and Mastodon. For example: The Philadelphia Inquirer writes"Tim Kasher's heaving guitars and the band's throbbing rhythms started off strong and spiky, the melodies even touched with gospel's holy rolling. But Cursive got weak, lame even." Toronto's Chart Attack sez "The crowd responded warmly to the headliners, as expected, but even they seemed somewhat disappointed on the whole. With a bill this diverse and bands who are undeniably talented luminaries in their respective scenes, you'd expect fans to embrace each act with open arms. Instead, the opening bands were generally shunned and ignorant audience members went out of their way to ruin it for fans of those bands. " And TwinCities.com remarks "Mastodon didn't catch its stride until about 20 minutes into the set, when it unleashed a torrent of terror from its fantastic 2006 disc, Blood Mountain. Only then were memories of the previous bands swept aside, reminding the audience it had, indeed, paid for metal. " I don't know what motivated Cursive to take on this tour. Their love of Mastodon? An opportunity to grow their fan base? A hefty paycheck? Whatever it was, Kasher and Co. with a small brass section in tow still seems like an odd pairing with a grunt-metal band like Mastodon, but you never know…

-- Billboard is reporting (here) that Bright Eyes will be included in the soundtrack for the new Ethan Hawke-directed film "The Hottest State," along with Norah Jones, Cat Power, The Black Keys, Willie Nelson, M Ward, Feist and others. To my knowledge, this is the first time Bright Eyes has been included in a soundtrack, more evidence of the impact his new manager is having on his career and his exposure.

Tonight at The Waiting Room it's ambient indie rock band The Album Leaf with Lymbyc Systym. $10, 9 p.m.

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Only one show attended this weekend -- Kite Pilot, Sit in Wait and Spring Gun Saturday night at The Saddle Creek Bar. There was almost no one there -- maybe 20 people -- probably because of the shows at O'Leaver's, Sokol and the irresistible draw of the Dundee Spring Fling street concert by a handful of anonymous cover bands. (Who am I kidding, the people sucking up beer along Underwood would never step foot in any venue that plays original music, would they?) I showed up at around 11 and caught the last five minutes of Sit in Wait. Then Spring Gun brought their chiming wall-of-sound set to life. Their music grinds and grinds, constantly building one chord change upon another. There are vocals, of course, but they seem almost like an afterthought in their song writing process. You get the feeling that Spring Gun comes up with a series of riffs and rhythms, refines them, then says "OK, now we need a vocal," and the singer puts it together on the spot, surfing above the waves of dual-guitar chords. Afterward, you don't so much remember individual songs as much as the overall sound of their set, a Midwestern version of My Bloody Valentine (sort of).

I could see the Kite Pilot folks sitting across the room all night, and figured they were going to play last, but I was wrong. They must have opened the show, because after Spring Gun, everyone packed their gear and left. I spent the balance of the evening discussing the nature of indie music and the current state of Omaha venues with the bar's owner, members of his staff and a couple other people.

It wasn't my only music experience of the weekend. I swung by The Dundee Theater Friday night to catch Air Guitar Nation, a documentary about the international air guitar competition. After about the first five minutes, I was ready to leave -- it looked like it was going to be supremely cheesy. But sure enough, as the filmmakers started to delve into the backgrounds of individual contestants, I was hooked. The movie was a lot of fun and will leave you with a whole new perspective on Extreme's "Play with Me." Catch it while it's here this week, because it'll probably be gone by Friday.

Tonight at Sokol Underground, Minus the Bear and Chin Up Chin Up. MtB took it to a whole nuther level with Menos El Oso, going from a band renowned for the kooky song titles ("Thanks for the Killer Game of Crisco® Twister," "I Lost All My Money at the Cock Fights") to a serious, jangular indie band with catchy songs. Keyboarist Matt Bayles no longer is in the band. He quit after Menos came out to devote his time to producing bands like Mastodon and Omaha's own Ladyfinger. Expect a sneak peek of the band's new album, Planet of Ice, slated for release on Suicide Squeeze in August. But for me, the real draw tonight is Chin Up Chin Up, one of the better unsung indie bands on the circuit these days. $15. 9 p.m.

Anyone go to The Hold Steady? I considered it, until I realized that I had to be up at 5 a.m. this morning.

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Earlier this week I received an e-mail from Todd Hanton, half of the husband-wife team -- along with Erica -- that make up Kite Pilot (and also along with drummer Jeremy Stanoschek). Todd wrote to say that KP will be opening for The Protoculture's CD release show at The Waiting Room May 24. What I didn't know was that KP also would be releasing a new CD -- an 8-song EP -- that same evening. Two tracks include former KP guitarist/vocalist Austin Britton, who moved to the West Coast a few months ago. But that wasn't even the big news.

"The reason for the rush on the EP is that Erica and I are moving to Portland, Oregon, early this summer," Hanton wrote. "We leave on a trip up there June12-20 to find housing, then come back, pack and move ASAP. We wanted to have closure on these songs before KP goes on an indefinite hiatus. May 24 may be our last show, but we may pick up a show on May 31 at the PS Collective with Protoculture and Outlaw Con Bandana (per the request of both those bands, who say they are fans of ours)."

My first response: Why Portland?

"We fell in love with Oregon on our honeymoon -- ocean, mountains, forests, desert, volcanoes. We love the outdoors," Todd replied. "I had been there on vacation as a child, and it always has kind of stuck in my mind as a magical place. Erica started talking about moving up there over a year ago and we just got serious about it this spring. We decided on Portland because it has the most opportunities and many more like-minded people. Pretty liberal out there. I have been in Nebraska for 20 years and Erica has been here her whole life. We don't want to have any regrets, so we are going to try it out for a year and see if it suits us. If not, there is always Nebraska and we get to have a year-long adventure."

So Omaha loses two more talented youths to "the outside world." Add them to the recent list that includes Tim Kasher, Matt Maginn, Jeff Heater and so on. KP had just reinvented its sound after the loss of Austin. Their new direction is/was punkier, more stripped-down and straight-forward, and more dance-oriented. Quite a departure from the almost prog-rock approach on their last full-length.

Though the move could mark an end for Kite Pilot, you probably haven't heard the last of The Hantons. "I would not doubt that Erica and I will start a new project/band in the near future to tide us over until we can start up Kite Pilot again," Todd said.

I bring all this up now because Kite Pilot just got added to a show this Saturday night at The Saddle Creek bar with Spring Gun and Lincoln's Sit in Wait. It's part of another crowded weekend of shows. Here's the usual rundown.

-- Expect a nose-bleeding, ear-ringing chaotic eruption of noise at The Waiting Room tonight with headliners Back When along with Paria, Truth in Ruin and the always mind-blowing Fathr^. Collaborating as part of Fathr^ this evening will be Jamie Montes (Flamboyant Gods). No idea if they'll be running any of their freaky A/V. $7, 9 p.m.

-- Meanwhile, just down the street at PS Collective it's Derek Presnall's Flowers Forever with Capgun Coup and Cherry Papers, which is described as "Joe Knapp's new hot ass motherf***ing project" on the Flowers Forever myspace page. Seeing as I'm the unofficial president of the Joe Knapp/Son, Ambulance Music Appreciation Fan Club, I find this to be very exciting news. Last time I talked to Joe -- probably a year ago? -- he told me he was hanging it up for awhile to focus on being a father. Looks like he's come to some sort of a balance, and we're all the benefactors of it. 9 p.m. FREE.

-- I assume everyone who was at last night's Brimstone show will be down at Sokol Underground tonight for Black Rebel Motorcycle Club. With The Cobbs & Eastern Conference Champions, $15, 9 p.m.

-- Also tonight, in Benson at Mick's, five acoustic singer-songwriters: Midwest Dilemma, Inaiah Lujan, Kyle Harvey, Brad Hoshaw, It's True. $5, 9 p.m.

-- Tomorrow night (Saturday), the aforementioned Kite Pilot / Spring Gun / Sit in Wait show at Saddle Creek Bar. $5, 9 p.m.

-- Down at Sokol it's Animal Collective with Sir Richard Bishop. AC is considered one of leaders of the current "Freak Folk" movement. Freak Folk, in this case, means acoustic indie jams that sound like they were influenced by early Yoko Ono albums. In other words, it's experimental. $12 ADV/$14 DOS, 9 p.m.

-- And then, Sunday, the long-awaited return of The Hold Steady at Sokol Underground. The last time these guys came through Omaha -- years and years ago -- no one showed up. This time it'll be a sell out (or a near sell-out). In fact, I'm surprised tickets are still available. People 'round these parts love these guys. I've received more e-mail and comments from readers to check them out than probably any other national band. I've been listening to Boys and Girls in America since it was released a few months ago. Not bad. Kind of like an indie version of Springsteen and Thin Lizzy with some Smart Went Crazy thrown in. It's all about Craig Finn's snarky life-as-a-fallen-Catholic lyrics and his nasal nearly-spoken/yelled vocals. He's no crooner, in fact he doesn't even try to be one. With The Heartless Bastards & Love As Laughter. $12, 9 p.m.

Finally (and yes, I know this entry is running long), label executive Jason Kulbel confirmed to me today that Art in Manila's debut, Set the Woods on Fire, will be released on Saddle Creek Records Aug. 7. The Omaha City Weekly had the news first in this Elle Lien story in this week's issue, which just went online. I haven't heard their recording, but if it's anything like the live shows, their addition to the Creek roster is a no-brainer.

And speaking of Creek, the great American smoking debate continues at The Slowdown website. As I said Monday (here), the problem with polls is that those conducting them kinda/sorta have to do something as a result of the feedback. People are overwhelmingly voting to make Slowdown a no-smoking establishment. Will Jason and Robb listen or simply say 'Thanks for the feedback' and allow smoking in the club anyway? Now that they've got The Omaha World-Herald involved in the discussion (here), they may not have a choice. FYI… yet another show has been booked at Slowdown: Silversun Pickups Aug. 1.

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Brimstone Howl, The Terminals, The Shanks -- these bands are the new cock-rock. Not "cock rock" in that '80s hair-band glam-metal sort of way. Cock as in cocky. As in ballsy (and that applies to the Liz-led Terminals, too), snarky, always flexing tough-guy rock that is too-cool-for-school in a good way. I've been listening to Brimstone's new one, Guts of Steel, all morning. Their style's been called "garage rock" and "primitive rock" by people more familiar with this genre than I will ever be. Still, I don't think either term really fits. Songs like riff-happy "Bad Seed" and the strutting "Cyclone Boy" and "I'm a Man" conjure images of motorcycles and leather jackets, Brando in The Wild Bunch, drag racing down Dodge Street in a 50s-era Chevy. All shot in black-and-white. The nostalgia continues through to the '70s, to punk bands like The New York Dolls and The Stooges, and continues right into the current slate of bands that appear on labels like Estrus, In the Red and Lincoln's own Boom! Chick. Produced by Dan Auerbach of The Black Keys, Guts of Steel, released on national indie label Alive Records, is more varied and interesting than Bang! (seven times). It's also more fun.

If there's a criticism to this style of music it's that the underlying familiarity can cause people to complain that it all sounds the same. The nuances from track to track won't be apparent on first listen. It takes a while before each song begins to stand on its own, which is a complicated way of saying you'll need to listen to this three or four times straight through before you the seams between songs begin to show -- seams that are more visible in a live setting, like tonight's show, which will be a wild one. If The Terminals can burn a place like O'Leaver's down, imagine what they'll do on The Waiting Room stage. And I have a feeling that Jim and Marc will be following The Shanks around with a fire extinguisher (or a First-Aid kit). $5, 9 p.m.

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As I've said before on this site, I would have a different attitude about Coyote Bones' new CD if they couldn't pull it off live without all the glamorous contributors, but they do -- quite well, in fact. As it stands, they don't have another live show in Omaha until June 29, an all-ages gig at PS Collective, though I wouldn't be surprised if something else gets scheduled before then. The band's in Cambridge, MA tonight, at Piano's in NYC tomorrow, then Baltimore, Philly, Cleveland, Athens and Dekalb May 25.

The Washington Post is reporting (here) that Saddle Creek Records will be releasing the debut album by Washington D.C.'s Georgie James, Places, in early fall 2007. Listening to the band's Myspace tracks, they kind of sound like an updated, indie version of '70s rock bands like Seals and Crofts (especially track "Need Your Needs."). Georgie James is the duo of John Davis (ex-Q and Not U) and his singer-songwriter friend Laura Burhenn. They record with Chad Clark (Beauty Pill) and T.J. Lipple (Aloha) at Silver Sonya Studio. So when's the obligatory Omaha tour stop?

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Since yesterday's Slowdown item went online they've enhanced their website to include a brief history of the project, a photo gallery, and an FAQ which includes answers to such sterling questions as 'What does Slowdown mean?' (it's a reference to the band Slowdown Virginia) and 'Do you have shows every night?' (No, typically only 2 or 3 nights a week) and most curiously, 'Who does all your in-house booking?' The answer is Val Nelson. So where does One Percent Productions fit in? I assume Val will be booking local shows while One Percent will book touring national acts like Built to Spill (which they, indeed, booked). Right?

And speaking of websites, yesterday I stumbled across Omahype.com, a blog that includes live reviews, news and brief show previews, not to mention a sweet photo of O'Leaver's bar sign. Yet another source for local indie music coverage. Check it out.

Tomorrow on Lazy-i, look for this week's column, a chat with David Matysiak of Coyote Bones, where he talks about all the local talent that showed up on his band's exceptional new disc.

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According to the online countdown clock at Slowdown's website, the venue will open in a mere 24 days. The first show was booked a couple weeks ago -- Built to Spill on July 18. And now the website has added a discussion board with its first survey question: "Would you like Slowdown to be smoke-free?"

Voting requires that you register, of course. There's a problem with conducting an online poll -- the owners of said poll generally have to respond to its outcome. What if 51 percent of responders say they want the venue to be smoke-free? Will that be enough to sway owners/operators Robb Nansel and Jason Kulbel, who already have said they intend to allow smoking? Probably not. Despite what anyone says, the decision rests squarely on their shoulders. Since Slowdown doesn't serve food, the club can legally allow smoking, at least for the next four or five years or whenever the city's ordinance expires (or until the state eventually passes legislation that bans smoking in all public spaces).

Not allowing smoking probably makes the most sense, especially considering that Slowdown will target an under-21 crowd, an audience whose parents likely would be more apt to allow their kids to go down there if they knew it was a smoke-free establishment. Add to that the fact that a state-mandated all-public-spaces ban probably will be in place before the city's current ordinance expires, and the fact that neither Robb nor Jason smoke (as far as I know) and the decision seems obvious. That is until you factor in the financial costs of making the club smoke-free.

The long-standing argument always has been that if you ban smoking, smokers will not come. I think that's probably true, but only for the serious 2- to 3-pack-a-day lifers (or death-ers). Casual smokers won't care -- they're there to see the bands, anyway. Will it stop them from hanging out and drinking afterward? Maybe, probably. And that might be the tipping point in their decision.

Robb and Jason are running a bar, after all, and selling booze is a big part of that. Under-21s don't buy many $4 Rolling Rocks. One of the factors to the venue's success will be how well it caters to a drinking clientele -- to get them down there with or without live bands performing. And smoking always has been a factor in drawing a "regulars" crowd. Has the smoking ban hurt the draw at Sokol shows? Probably not, but no one goes to Sokol for any other reason than to see the bands -- after the last encore it's off to The Brothers or O'Leaver's or The Waiting Room for last call. Slowdown wants to be on that list of final-destination bars, too, a list that (because of its proximity) will include all the Old Market bars as well. That's why this poll probably won't mean anything at the end of the day.

Tonight at The Waiting Room, it's San Francisco's Thee More Shallows with local boys Capgun Coup. $7, 9 p.m.

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I'll probably spend most of the day listening to Morrissey after going to the show last night at The Orpheum, a show that will easily be in my top-5 -- not of 2007 but of all time. Look, I grew up listening to Morrissey and The Smiths. Some of the songs he performed last night I've been listening to for over 20 years. To get to see him perform "Everyday Is Like Sunday" or "How Soon is Now" or "Panic" in an environment as perfect as The Orpheum was special.

But as much as I love the early Morrissey stuff and The Smiths' tunes, the concert highlights were all newer songs. Backing him was an impeccable 5-piece that included three guitarists (one switched to keyboards) a bass player and a drummer behind an enormous set that included a giant Yamaha bass drum laid on its side and a massive gong, both of which he used sparingly and to fine effect.

Morrissey came out after a short set by opener Kristeen Young, a New Yorker who sounds like a pedestrian cross between Kate Bush and Siouxie, playing keyboards and singing while backed by a drummer. These two-piece acts are getting tiresome beyond their novelty. There were a couple good songs there somewhere, but without a band backing her, they sounded hollow and lackluster and half-finished.

After her set, videos of cinema and music icons were shown on a large sheet hung across the stage, including a live performance by The New York Dolls from a European music show from the '70s (as well as some homemade video of Johansen lighting a joint) and audition footage of James Dean for East of Eden.

Then came Morrissey, dressed in tight slacks, baby-blue belt and an assortment of French-cuffed long-sleeve shirts opened down to his belly Tom Jones-style. Morrissey looks like a gay Irish gangster these days, stocky but not fat, letting his hair gray at the temples, and sweating-sweating-sweating. He went through three shirts soaked black with sweat, tossing the first to someone in the stage pit (who I assume wiped that pit sweat all over his or her face).

The set started rough soundwise, but kudos to the sound guy, who adjusted the rather brash din after the first song, bringing it to sonic perfection. Gorgeous balance, at least where I stood (there was no sitting in the Orchestra section last night), about 7 rows from the stage on stage-right aisle. Staging included two giant black-and-white Warholian portraits of James Dean hung from the rafters and an assortment of motorized stage lights, klieg lights, blinking florescent lights, all effectively choreographed to the music, which leaned to the heavier side of Morrissey's (and The Smith's) catalog. Some people consider Morrissey 'wimp music,' I guess because of the emotional, confessional lyrics (the Pope of Mope blah-blah-blah), but his music actually is pretty hard, at times bordering on punk. Cutting through the gritty static guitar noise and the throbbing rhythms is Morrissey's sweetie-pie voice that soars high and clean like the best of Sinatra crooners. Though at times huge and majestic, no one writes a melody with a sense of melancholy like Morrissey, and no one performs those songs quite like him, preening and prancing across stage, swinging his microphone chord like a whip, raising his eyebrows in mock concern. And always sweating like Tom Jones or Engelbert Humperdinck and all the other stage idols before him (but without scarf-throwing cheesiness) -- it was almost an Elvis sort of thing. Morrissey reached out and shook hands all night, and only at the end -- when a couple fans were invited on stage -- did the barrier get broken, one woman handing him her baby daughter which he twirled in his harms before handing her back. Meanwhile, off stage left, a guy dressed in a Union Jack tried to rush Morrissey only to get pushed back to the floor by a Buddha-sized bodyguard.

The between-song patter was limited to pre-scripted comments, except for when Morrissey talked about how one of his favorite people was from Lincoln. Who was it? Dick Cavett, strangely, though if you know Cavett's background it makes sense. So while he was happy and personable and funny, it was the music that was center stage. The highlights -- a brooding version of "Life is a Pigsty" that built for eight minutes or more, ending with Morrissey crumpled on his back with his arms across his face only to be reborn by a shrill, opening siren chords of "How Soon is Now?" The other highlight -- a gritty version of "Ganglord," a b-side off "The Youngest Was the Most Loved" single, and the closest he's ever come to the dark power of "How Soon is Now?" I hadn't heard Ringleader of the Tormentors before this concert. I own it now, and am convinced it may be one of his best, though my judgment will always be colored by last night's performance.

* * *

A couple shows worth mentioning tonight if you're out and about. At The Waiting Room it's Landing on the Moon with Fromanhole, Clair de Lune (said to be their last show ever) and Self Evident. $7, 9 p.m., while over at O'Leaver's it's punk rock gods The Shanks with electro-punkers Cloven Path and Ric Rhythm, $5, 9:30 p.m.

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A death in the family is the reason behind the sporadic updates. Please bear with me of the next few days. Things hopefully will be back to normal next week. In fact, this week's column on Coyote Bones won't run until next Wednesday.

Bright Eyes' current tour is coming off as hit-and-miss with the critics, judging by reviews like this one in the East Bay Express, which goes out of its way to highlight the show's failings (not selling out their Berkeley date, disliking the visuals, etc.). Still, for every negative review, there's a positive one (or two), like this Reuters report (actually, it's from The Hollywood Reporter) of the last Sunday's Disney Concert Hall gig, with the headline "Bright Eyes too good to remain a cult act," and this one (with a few pics) from LAist.com that declares that "he truly has come of age." Bright Eyes (and Oberst) will always be either liked (or loved) or hated. I find that people who hate his music dislike it almost on a personal level that goes beyond merely commenting on its quality, tending to focus on the personality behind the art. And that's too bad. My personal take is that when his music isn't boring (which is about half the time), it's pretty good, and lyrically can be downright remarkable.

By the way, if you haven't seen this yet -- they did a giant mural on the side of a Brooklyn building using the Cassadaga artwork to pimp the upcoming seven nights of sold-out shows at Town Hall. Take a look.

What else. I missed Dick Dale last night. Let me take this opportunity to recall my one and only interview with Dale back in '98 -- actually, just go ahead and read it here. In addition to being one of the fastest guitarists in the world, Dale's one of the fastest talkers, speaking in a stream of consciousness that-lacks-punctuation-like-a-giant-run-on-sentence-from-the-mind-of-a-madman. He can play a helluva soundtrack for a surf movie. Unfortunately, I don't know how to swim.

Lastly, Terrence Moore passed away last week at the age of 58. The LJS has the story here. I'm glad that I had a chance to talk to Terrence before he passed away (for this column). He had a big impact on the local music scene and will be missed.

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