We Were Never In this Together

A good week:

Wednesday, I went to the Tom Gabel "Searching For a Former Sense of Integrity/I'm Still Legit, I Swear! Solo Acoustic Tour." I guess he sort of "restored my faith," but in what I'm not exactly sure. It's not like I'm itching for the next time I get to see Against Me! at some cavernous warehouse or that I'm 100% thrilled with Heart Burns, Gabel's solo E.P. Maybe I just had a lot of fun getting to scream along with "I Still Love You Julie," "What We Worked For," "Tonight We're Gonna Give It 35%," etc. as they were originally intended to be screamed along with: in a small space, led by an acoustic guitar and the proudest set of vocal cords Butch Vig ever produced. It was hard to deny that the newest song Tom played, "I Dreamed Bob Dylan Was a Friend of Mine," absolutely bled sincerity. It's a simple song, only three or four chords, wherein Gabel and Bob Dylan just hang out... It just harkened back to better days, I guess, When playing "Baby I'm An Anarchist" to a crowd of 200 in a sweaty grange hall didn't seem like a really good dream and long before Spin claimed New Wave deserved to join Nevermind in Rock's Pantheon, in the corner reserved for "Really Incendiary Rock and Roll Records." Then again, though, it was impossible for me not to yell "Eat your words, Tom Gabel!" during "What We Worked For" as soon as he sang "..and may the rights to this song never make one fucking dollar." Eat 'em up with those big label exec fat cats you fuck and some great red wine, good luck finding that integrity. Jk. Kinda.

"I Dreamed Bob Dylan Was a Friend of Mine:"

Thursday, D. down the hall and I went to see Slumdog Millionaire. Fox Searchlight emailed me those movie promo freebie passes, two, first come first served. We got to the Bourse. Some lady appeared to be waiting ahead of me, so I let her go, and then learned she grabbed the second to last spot. First come indeed. So I dragged D. to AKA Music and picked up a Television Personalities album. I really like it; it's like the missing link between the Vaselines and Brian Jonestown massacre. New episode of the Office, this season's best, and then Zack and Miri Make a Porno which was very, very funny but lacked a little of the depth you expect from most Kevin Smith movies. It was a little too Apatow, not that that's bad because I like that, but it just wasn't Kevin Smith. Maybe he should have stayed in Jersey. But I liked it, nonetheless.

Friday I got a call to interview Mischief Brew/Erik Petersen after the show at the Barbary. To be honest, I've never really dug too far into Mischief Brew's catalog, let alone the Orphans but it was nothing I didn't expect. The crowd smelled awful. Brian McGee and Hollowspeed were great roots rock and to me he sounds like a dead ringer for Jay Farrar. I wonder if that southern accent is fake? Isn't he from here? Lusts were just as good, angry and angular garage rock sung through a telephone receiver (a growing trend, I guess.) Mischief Brew often come off as really hoky sometimes but the feelings are unadulterated and they play with a lot of energy/lack of preachiness that most folk punk is missing. People told me over and over again Erik is the nicest of guys and will be really easy to talk to. This was true.

I hope theres a six pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon pounders in my future. If not, I have Waiting For Guffman, Bicycle Thieves, and a walk across the Ben Franklin Bridge early tomorrow afternoon.