Stringband

Fatted Calf Stringband cover

I finally went to TD’s today, on a get-up-and-stretch break from doing homework at Soma. I walked out with 5 CDs for about $30, a couple used, and a couple brand new. Happy day.

The one I couldn’t wait to pop in and listen to was Fatted Calf Stringband. I just heard of the band about a week ago, that they sometimes played squaredances. I am not a squaredancer, but I do like strings! So when I saw the CD, I took a look. The first thing I do when picking out music is look at the album art and track names, but this simple, embossed cardboard cover didn’t say anything but “Fatted Calf Stringband.” It was also the most expensive of all the CDs I had in my hand at that moment (but still only $10!). What made me buy it? Well… 1) it’s local music 2) it’s strings and 3) the minimalistic, uninformative cover had red stars on it. I’m a sailor. I like red stars. If it had had one red star on the left and one green star on the right (red for port, green for starboard), I would’ve paid more than $10 for it, but then I would have expected sea chanteys. So the two red stars are perfect. (Your homework: Look for green 5-point stars. They are extremely hard to find. Scrapbooking supplies, rubber stamps, iron-on patches… stars come in red, white, blue, gold, silver, and sometimes white. No green. What does the world have against starboard?)

Anyway, I bought the thing, carefully unwrapped it, and pulled out the single-sheet insert. I didn’t recognize any of the track names. The straight-to-the-point liner notes say: “Recorded in one day with one mic by Mike Bridavsky at Russian Recording, Bloomington, Indiana. The Fatted Calf Stringband is: Brad Baute fiddle/guitar Joel Lensch fiddle/guitar Alex Mann bass Chris Mattingly banjo.” Just “one day.” Not which day, which year, etc. Just “one day… in Bloomington, Indiana.” I like it.

So how does it sound? It sounds like a fantastic sampler of a band you really want to see live. This isn’t surprising, given the genre. This is music that is meant to be seen, heard, and experienced. It’s best with a little give and take, a little audience interaction. For now it’s a substitute for “the real thing,” great for a work day you just can’t escape or a drive in the car.

To discover more of Fatted Calf, including streaming audio, check out their Myspace page

Arctic Monkeys at Soma

Alex Turner is a bad, bad man. Photo courtesy of Rima A.Z.

I don’t know if I would call it a tradition, but somehow my friends and I always end up in San Diego at the end of summer. Why anyone would want to name their town after a whale’s vagina is beyond me.

Anyways, our times spent down south usually entails some quality live music and college-aged debauchery . Two years ago it was The Shins and Rise Against (not at the same show, obviously). Last year it was Ok Go. This year, it was Arctic Monkeys at my favorite venue, Soma.

For those not familiar with the legendary San Diego locale, don’t get too excited. Soma is essentially a dirty concrete warehouse, lodged uncomfortably between karate clubs and home furnishing stores. It doesn’t have much going for it–location and cleanliness being two obvious strikes–aside from the fact that it holds some of the most amazing shows that I have ever witnessed.

Last night, the Arctic Monkeys were by no means an exception.

First up though, was The Like. While they hail from my corner of Southern California and have been around for a while touring with the likes of Muse and Kings of Leon, this was my first encounter with the cute female quartet.

Although we got their halfway between the set, snaking our way through a packed crowd for the headliners, I was impressed by the openers. With a style that depends on a solid organ or keyboard backing, infused with smart bass lines and the Jenny Lewis-esque voice of Elizabeth “Z” Berg, the band invigorated an anxious crowd with a fast-paced set of feminine energy. So basically, I like The Like.

On to the main attraction. Following the openers, the packed Soma crowd wasn’t willing to cooperate with a 45 minute layover, causing a pre-set mosh that had sweaty bodies swaying and nearly hitting the deck. People were pissed. My Spanish-speaking crowd comrades were yelling “PUTA!” and small children were crying. And on the seventh day there were Arctic Monkeys and all was good.

Photo courtesy of arcticmonkeys.com

There’s not much you can say that people haven’t heard about the band from Sheffield. Being terribly biased, I embrace anything Arctic Monkeys as a godsend, from new singles to Alex Turner sneezing. Their music is everything I appreciate: biting lyrics, massive energy, high-powered guitars and English accents. So it hurt me when I slightly railed on the group’s third album, “Humbug,” in an earlier review. I hope they find some means of forgiving me.

Last night though, they had no intentions of doing so, forcing the new album down Soma’s throat. They made you to love it. As much as I chastised the band for moving away from their established style, I was singing and moshing for the first five songs, four of which were from “Humbug.” Single “Crying Lighting” was a particular crowd favorite, and “Pretty Visitors” was pure mayhem.

With the crowd well-acquainted five songs in, the band continued on their tear, but insisted that they do it at their own pace. Of their bread and butter hits, they passed on “A Certain Romance” and “Fake Tales of San Francisco” and continued to play off their new album, performing eight of the 10 tracks by their set’s end. And while they closed with “505,” the Arctic Monkeys equivalent of a love song, they made their point– they’ve changed their style and they’re not going back. The way the crowd reacted, they did’t seem to mind.

As for me, I’ll be ok with it as long as every show can be comparable to my night at Soma.

-Ryan

Arctic Monkeys- Crying Lightning (download)

Arctic Monkeys- Pretty Visitors (download)

The Like- Fair Game (download)

A Side Trip to Stumptown, Manhattan

People I know who have spent time in the Portland area have raved about Stumptown Coffee for years. They roast the beans right in the store! Nothing on the East Coast compares! So after the second-day-of-school parents’ breakfast on Friday, my wife and I tagged along through the rain when another parent suggested we walk over to the new Stumptown outlet in the Ace Hotel in an area that some people are trying to call SoMa (for “South of Macy’s”) in the high 20s off Broadway.

The shop was nicely appointed, with a classic feel, more upscale than your average grungy coffee shop. The baristas wore neckties and jaunty hipster hats (which were mocked by some on Twitter when I posted a quick slideshow on Posterous).

The service was great. This is not one of those places where people linger over laptops. There are no chairs, which keeps people from lingering too long. Diner’s Journal declares the shop’s style to be distinctly New York.

My wife ordered a soy decaf latte, which she declared to be just fine. She’s not a big coffee fan. I had a house espresso, which was tasty and as good as shots pulled at Cafe Grumpy and Ninth Street Espresso, my other favorite Manhattan coffee haunts. Was it better? No, sorry, Stumptown fans. Something else was missing: Unlike in Portland, the beans are not roasted on the premises. Stumptown imports the beans and roasts them locally in Red Hook, Brooklyn.

I ended up spending my last dollar on this bag of beans from Costa Rica, because Stumptown wasn’t taking credit cards. Dudes, nobody carries money in New York anymore.

Name Montes de Oro

Origin: San Pablo de Tarrazu, Costa Rica

Roasted: Sept. ? by Stumptown Coffee.

Purchased: Sept. 11 at Stumptown in the Ace Hotel at 18 West 29th Street and Broadway, Manhattan.

Description From the excellent, detailed Stumptown Web site (includes video): “Rainier cherry and clementine orange flavors meld harmoniously with sweet notes of honey, caramel and milk chocolate.”

In the cup There was no real description on the bag, so I went with my gut, having had good experiences with Costa Rican coffees (tthough not always). I definitely got lucky. First of all, if you’ve read my past entries, you’ll know I tend to have a sweet tooth when it comes to coffee.

This coffee is delicious and left me feeling warm on this chilly, damp Saturday morning before I took my daughter to her gymnastics class, where I’m taking advantage of the free WiFi at Chelsea Piers upstairs to write this post during the class. I have a great view of my kid walking backward on the balance beam. I’m also playing Calexico on the iPhone because the chattering parents around me are making me a little nuts. My multitasking life.

Stumptown reports: “The producers behind Montes de Oro, Emilio and Laura Gamboa, cultivate their coffee in San Pablo de Tarrazu. Emilio personally oversees the processing each and every night of the harvest. He ensures strictly ripe cherry and fully washes it with INGESEC technology. The coffee is gently dried on African beds, which provides time for sugar development.” Oh, just go watch the video.

Other reviewers of this coffee, including the 2008 vintage, have described it as fruitier — pineapple, thistle and kiwi? Maybe a little clementine orange in there? I didn’t pick up on any of that. Maybe those flavors come out in a regular coffee. I made this as espresso in the Jura and was grooving on the caramel, honey and chocolate.

I highly recommend this one, and I guess I’ll have to leave some extra time now and then for another side trip to Stumptown to try some of the others. They had a whole wall of them.

[Via http://palafo.com]

Am I Nicety?

This week, I have been doing my best to get settled in my new home and get Mr. Wookie back on schedule. Mr. Wookie has been on vacation down in Virginia for the past few weeks with my Dad and stepmother. They ruined him. It was obvious as soon as we got to the W Hotel in TimesSquare when he HAD to sleep on the bed. Evidently he started this habit at the house and goes through a complete foot wiping ritual after enjoying the great outdoors.

Mr. Wookie had been a model pup until he decided to ‘christen’ my new apartment. I had to make a quick trip to Safeway across the street to stock up on doggie and Soulsista supplies. The store didn’t have the doggie clean up stuff I was looking for but had a lot of other interesting stuff. In Virginia, Safeway had aways been your regular, run-of-the-mill, grocer. This one was comparable to a Whole Foods, with multi color produce perfectly stacked and aisles extending to the ceiling full of organic food. They even had a respectable, self serve olive bar, my benchmark for a fine grocery experience. I pushed my cart in the wrong direction by the deli counter, and immediately apologized for my mistake. Behind the counter was a young guy, about 25 years, that had channeled his inner “blipster“. The gentleman behind the counter replied with something like,” That’s perfectly alright, darling, you can come down here whichever way you want.” Reading this you probably would assume that it was a pick-up like of sorts. But it wasn’t. It didn’t have THAT vibe. I smiled and kept continued on to the olives thinking, “Could it be that the rumors are true? Are people really nicer outside of NY?”

As I continued to roam about the store to get my bearings, I bumped into another young employee, and steeled my self for the eyeroll, grunt, or toothsuck that I had come to expect. (On a crowded NY Subway one day the motion of the car caused everyone to bump into each other. One girl put me on notice telling me that if I bumped her one more time she would cut me. No kidding.) What came was a, “Pardon me.”

Finishing my shopping trip, I went to the checkout and met with a very colorful, chatty cashier. I felt my City facade melt away as we engaged in conversation. This was actually the physical sensation I experienced standing in line. Its odd, when I lived in NYC I was convinced that New York wasn’t as intense as people said it was. Afterall, I did just fine. Perhaps after living there for so long I gradually built up a barrier to my inner person that i didn’t realize existed. Could it be that I have become the hardcore NYer that non residents describe? Or is it that people in San Francisco are just happier? I don’t know, but I am certainly digging the fact that when you speak to people, they actually want to engage you in conversation, with a smile!!

[Via http://nomadicsoulsista.wordpress.com]