Crushing Krisis

Comic Books, Drag Race, & Life in New Zealand

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A ‘Rooing We Shall Go!

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In less then twenty hours i will be en-route to one of America’s Big Three music festivals – Bonnaroo – unfolding for four days in the center of a 700+ acre Tennessee farm with over 75,000 rock fans camping out to take in the nearly 24/7 music, comedy, and film.

Knowing me as well as you surely do, you might find yourself wondering, “Are you sure you want to camp in the middle of almost 100k people in the middle of a farm in the middle of Tennessee in the middle of June?” I am definitely not pro-camping, am slightly anti-people, assuredly pro-metro pro-blue-states, and for sure anti-heat.

Clearly, Bonnaroo is my personal kryptonite – a collection of all the things that leave me woozy just from contemplating them, but lined with the glowing allure of endlessly awesome music.

However, consider this: i am nothing if not a consumate over-preparer. And, while that won’t help me too much with the small city i’ll be surrounded with, it certainly bodes well for a road-trip that ends in camping in withering summer heat. I have equipped myself with a partner nearly equal to myself in OCD worrywartism.

We tandem shopped Walmart, Target, and EMS sports for necessary supplies, working from an exhaustive excel spreadsheet. We set up and struck our tent (an 8-man with a shade porch) at night while tipsy and with little light to simulate actual conditions.

We have our travel itinerary printed in a binder with corresponding directions, historical notes, and soundtrack (a la Elizabethtown, but with better music). We have an entire pharmaceutical cabinet masquerading as a duffel bag, chock full of sanitizers, moisturizers, analgesics, and antihistamines. We have a trio of eight-mile range walkie-talkies that charge in the car.

And, perhaps most importantly, we have enough liquor to keep several dozen fest-goers drunk for a solid twenty-four hours (and, lest that sound irresponsible, we also have corresponding FAQs on hangover cures, dehydration, and heatstroke).

I am ready for Bonnaroo. I think. I’m still on the fence about buying something with GPS.

No, really, I’m ready. Stay tuned to see if i managed to blog any of the festival via picture posts and time in the ‘Roo internet tent.

Memorial Day Intake

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I’m in much more of an output phase than an intake one right now, but sometimes output involves manic consumption of a lot of things in a brief period of time to keep me fueled.

As such, here are the albums i’ve acquired over the holiday weekend, physically or via allofmp3. It remains to be seen how many will be listened to beyond this weekend.

Built to Spill – You In Reverse. I haven’t listened to this yet – i’ve grown a little reverential w/BtS first listens. I’ll probably do it downstairs in surround sound.

Dixie Chicks – Taking the Long Way. Basically i was seduced by all the Fleetwood Mac comparisons in the media, which seem to have been entirely between the title track and “Say You Love Me.” Total cop out!

The Dresden Dolls – Yes, Virginia… Much better than i anticipated, although Amanda Palmer definitely has some remedial vocal moments. I’m forgiving to female vocalists, though, cause the rock deck is stacked against them. “Backstabber” and “Shores of California” highly recommended.

Frou Frou – Details. I already love this disc from my digital copy, but i found it on sale. I would have bought a physical copy of Speak for Yourself too, but the first time i bought the disc it had creepy copy-protection, and now they have it in a slip-case to obscure whether or not it has creepy copy-protection.

Gnarls Barkley – St. Elsewhere. I thought the awesomeness of the single was a fluke and was incredibly wrong.

Gossip – Standing in the Way of Control. Like Yeah Yeah Yeahs, but without the leap of faith it sometimes takes to buy into Karen O’s vocals. This woman could make a deep run on American Idol. Listen to “Fire with Fire.”

Jewel – Goodbye, Alice In Wonderland. I love that Jewel is actively mining older songs that she never got a chance to record, because it’s something i would do. Also, the sample track i picked was “Only One Too,” which is an awesome rock song.

Matt Nathanson – Live At the Point. A songwriter i enjoy at my former favorite Philly room to hear music. What’s not to like? Well, in the absence of fuller arrangements and his wonderfully layered harmony and guitars, Matt and his 12-string come off as a little hapless.

Nirvana – In Utero. Review here. “Heart Shaped Box” is my favorite Nirvana song, partially because I remember being however old i was, watching MTV, and marveling at the audacity of a line like “I wish I could eat your cancer when you turn black.” I’ll eventually get Bleach, too.

Pearl Jam. I can’t explain it. We all know i hate them, but i kept hearing catchy songs from this disc. I think it’s cold in hell right now.

Daniel Powter. American Idol’s systematic brainwashing aside, i think he’s on the slightly more bearable side of the Maroon Five / James Blunt coin.

Snow Patrol – Eyes Open. This one is with trepidation – they’re a little on the sappy side for me, but i do like his voice. And, at least they’re not Coldplay, ya know?

U2 – War. Slowly but surely i will compile all of U2’s discography, one sale at a time, and then they will be promptly remastered.

The Wreckers – Stand Still, Look Pretty. Much more country-fried than the new Dixie Chicks. Probably shouldn’t have bought it, but i still inexplicably adore Michelle Branch and lead single “The Good Kind.”

Lest you think i buy every disc i encounter, here’s the list of my rejected albums for the weekend:


Amadou & Mariam – Dimanche a Bamako. I might come back to this one – I’m a little too focused on songwriting right now to appreciate something slightly more abstract (and not in English).

Brendan Benson – The Alternative to Love. The catchiness there, but why must he be so squeaky? He’s not even singing that high. I just have little patience for bad singers. Maybe i’ll try it some other time.

Broken Social Scene. When the first three songs i randomly choose from your album are unintelligible, that’s not a good sign.

Flaming Lips – At War With Mystics. You let a freaky band have two hit songs over the course of ten years and suddenly they’re unassailable critical darlings. Give it a rest, indy media.

Mono – You Are There. I barely have the patience for five-minute pop songs. Thirteen minutes of atmosphere is pushing it; i can just borrow Erika’s Sigur Ros albums.

Mountain Goats – The Sunset Tree. What is with this guy’s voice? Does he do musical theatre, or something? It’s just not a rock voice, and it pulls me away from the songs.

Red Hot Chili Peppers – Stadium Arcadium. Despite the best efforts of his compatriots, Kedis still can’t do more than four or five good songs per album cycle, which makes a double album a lamentable idea.

The Zutons – Tired of Hanging Around. I can understand why people are all wound up about this band, but they just make my ears tired. I know it’s somewhat blasphemous to say this, but i’d pick a Strokes disc over this every time.

The Day That Was

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I take for granted that i have all this audio equipment, and microphone stands, and mixers, and, well, all the stuff i’ve accumulated over years of supplying equipment for Blogathon, Lyndzapalooza, and the Treblemakers. I take it for granted up until it’s the end of Lyndzapalooza and people are marvelling at all the equipment i have to pack or complimenting me on a job well done. I never feel like either is true, but i suppose the beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Today was a very awesome Lyndzapalooza, that classic all-day musical party and barbecue -in honor of our one and only Lindsay- that has supplanted Blogathon as my major yearly holiday.

It truly is a holiday. I look forward to it all year, i get excited to the point of distraction when it’s upcoming, and i’m drained as soon as it’s over. And it’s not even a holiday about me! You could argue that it’s about me because i get up on stage and perform, but with every year that passes that becomes increasingly more incidental. Hell, today i ditched half of a meticulously planned setlist for Kelly Clarkson covers and bringing random friends onstage to sing with me. I’m not picky.

My true role at Lyndzapalooza is to be completely and totally unobtrusive – i shouldn’t get in the way of bands when setting up their sound, and when i’m playing for someone it should be all about them and not at all about me. That way, if i do eventually take the stage myself, i can be enjoyed or ignored as my own phenomenon rather than as “the sound guy we have to listen to.”

We sure have come a long way from the first year of scrounged equipment scattered across the yard of an abandoned house and microphones affixed to broomsticks. I’m happy to say that, despite a handful of desperately grumpy moments during the day, i left this ‘palooza stress-free and without regret. I played as good as i can play, i mixed as well as i can mix, and i still somehow managed to drink and socialize while i was doing it.

Mayyybe i need more of a sound reinforcement committee next year, though. Especially if we’re going to have it on a farm or a mountain rather than in Dante’s back yard.