Swans, Bela Tar @ Barby Club

It's odd that I listened to Beef Terminal for the first time in a couple of years during the same week that I caught a live set from Bela Tar. Lots of people see the "solo guitarist with sampler" semi-genre as a gimmick that gets tired quickly, endlessly recycling the same ideas owing to it's admittedly restrictive basic structure. But I'm not one of those people. The vocals were the garden variety "breathy female shoegaze" type, but I gather that the Cure and all the Cure fans currently playing in bands might be wanting to talk to her about stealing a few riffs.

I'd only heard a couple of Swans albums before last year's comeback record, "My Father Will Guide Me Up a Rope to the Sky", but my excitement leading up to this gig was way out of proportion with my familiarity with their music. They're one of those revered underground bands about whom nobody has a bad word to say. I only found out who they were around 2004, long after they'd split up, and everything I heard about them only reinforced the feeling that I'd missed out. According to just about everyone, they pulled off beautiful/ugly better than anyone ever had, and were one of the loudest (many people unequivocally stated they were THE loudest) bands ever to boot. At the very least, I missed out on the MBV reunion and could get some of the same kicks via Swans. To say that they didn't disappoint couldn't be any more of an understatement, because I can't remember the last time I saw a concert this good. Great concerts are nothing like great albums in that you know immediately that you're seeing a pantheon-level show, it doesn't need time to grow on you. This was an all-time great show, on the shortlist among the best seven or eight I've ever seen.

Plenty of bands file on stage one by one, picking up their instruments, steadily building the anticipation in the crowd until the singer finally appears, and the gig formally begins. In that regard, nothing can touch what Swans did last night, opening with five minutes of drone followed by double barrel chimes and vibraphone, ringing and humming through a near infinity of shapes and tones, followed by enough bass to make your digestion proceed 5x quicker, and by the way, only half of the band was on stage at this point. This was all part of the twenty minute intro (yes, intro) to the opener from their last album, "No Words No Thoughts", which finally exploded into a volcano of noise once the entire sextet were on stage, attacking their instruments as violently as any band I've ever seen. There is nothing, nothing -- and I mean this in the nicest way possible -- better than surly old guys making a shitload of noise. At this point, I'd already gotten my money's worth and could have left happy, so the next hour and a half was something of a bonus. A bonus that takes a show from being merely great, to all-time great. Sometimes more is more.

Michael Gira turns the levels on his microphone way, way up so that somehow, you can almost always make out the words above the din. He plays the sick preacher role well, but singing is a very specialized activity at a Swans show, punctuating the beginning and end of a furious onslaught of percussion. They play the bulk of "My Father Will Guide Me Up a Rope to the Sky", but the record is fairly tame next to the infernal roar that becomes of these songs when they play live.

In Toronto, screaming and heckling is almost always tolerated at gigs. No matter what kind of crazy stuff the person says, everyone can laugh off his yelling as the rambling of just another drunk idiot. But in everyday life, you can't argue about anything without being out of line. In Tel Aviv it's the opposite -- people argue and scream about the dumbest stuff all the time, but if you yell something at a gig, everyone feels a collective embarrassment, as if we're creating a bad impression of the city in front of the guests of honour. Tonight's stooge yells requests for older songs, and doesn't stop until Gira cuts him off with "I'm not your fucking clown, man. We play what we play." And what about the "old stuff"? How could it have possibly been any better than what we heard, anyway?

Panda Bear, "Tomboy"

This album is streaming on NPR's website until next week. Its release date is finally in sight after several months of delays, and the availability of some of these tracks in various forms (e.g. singles and live recordings -- there is a fairly well-circulated recording from a gig in Berlin on 15-01-2010 that features a number of "Tomboy" tracks) has not dulled the anticipation of finally hearing the finished product.

This is one of those albums where you can learn a lot by looking at the track titles and track times, especially in comparison to "Person Pitch". There are no epic track lengths, no titles with slashes (/) in them (suggesting a song with multiple parts), no two minute song snippets. In contrast, most songs on "Tomboy" are around three or four minutes long. Yes, it's supposed to be a pop record.

At first, I was disappointed that there was nothing even close to a jam on this record, perhaps with the exception of "Afterburner", which is the longest track here. There are no spots where the album strays toward something odd and unpredictable like the breakdown midway through "Bros". The songs that immediately grabbed me were the most anti-pop of the bunch, like the aptly named "Drone".

But "Tomboy" grew on me quickly. In retrospect, the connection between early 90's Spectrum and Panda Bear is so obvious, I can't believe I didn't hear it before. Pete "Sonic Boom" Kember's mixing contributions are subtle -- a bit more echo here, a bit more embellishment on this wobbly synth note there. Panda Bear's sound tends more toward the abrasive, minimalist pop side of Spectrum (think "How You Satisfy Me") and S3's "Recurring" (think "Big City"), although there's also a touch of the drone-y side of soul that Sonic perfected on "Highs, Lows, and Heavenly Blows". These elements are clearly audible if you're listening for them, but if you're not, then don't worry because "Tomboy" is instantly recognizable as Panda Bear. A more vocal heavy, could almost be radio friendly version of Panda Bear if it weren't for the miles of reverb and deliberately lo-fi blare of beats and alien noises.

Or maybe you'd prefer NPR's description of how "Lennox pushes the limits of his sequencers and synthesizers, twisting samples into coils of reverby reckoning". "Reverby reckoning" not only sounds ridiculous, but it implies a frightful, threatening type of music, which I'm not hearing but could imagine someone hearing if aided by the right hallucinogenics after the layers of harmony rattle around in your head for a while and you think you're hearing shrill voices over the Gorillaz backed by cheap and noisy synths. Hmmm ... maybe NPR was onto something ...

P&J 2010 (One and Done): Matt Boroff, "Reaching for Sparks"

30 points, t-365, voted on by Rob O' Connor

I couldn't find this album, but I managed to hear live versions of six songs from it via Youtube. Oddly enough, Boroff's Myspace page only contains music by his band, Matt Boroff and the Mirrors, and the section on Boroff's own website that's devoted to his solo work is still under construction. I'm suddenly not surprised that only one P&J voter heard his album!

On his Myspace page, the music of The Mirrors is described as if "they'd taken the brains of Quentin Tarantino, Tom Waits and David Lynch, seasoned them with opium, stuffed them into a meat grinder and baked them in a junkyard on the sun." I listened to a few of their songs and ... yeah, I can't top that, the description is totally accurate. This twang-drenched, slowed down West Coast surf rock couldn't sound more Tarantino soundtrack-ready even if Tarantino had commissioned it himself.

Boroff's solo work is more in the vein of confessional singer songwriter folk rock, and from the first few moments of "1000 Pieces", I know that I'll never "get" solo Matt Boroff for a number of reasons -- I don't really pay attention to lyrics, I'm not a guitar player (Boroff seems like a guitar player's guitar player, where 20% of the audience at his shows are carefully watching his picking technique and if I'm wrong about this, well, then it certainly proves that I'm not a guitar player doesn't it??), and other than Kirsten Hirsh and Lisa Germano, I can't think offhand of any artists who have done solo acoustic work that I really like. It actually goes a bit further than that ... solo acoustic + anything vaguely Americana? Definitely not my style.

On the other hand, I "get" Matt Boroff perfectly, because I've seen live shows by plenty of like-minded artists. You know the scene -- a small club that can look crowded once 50 people file in, the audience sits in shocked silence during the songs (half of them are his friends and family), a calm but intense stage presence that easily grabs your attention (check out "Things You Should Know" for a good example of this). Time slows down, every pluck of the guitar strings seems to ring and reverb around the room for several seconds and every breath he takes is easily audible. There's little doubt that I'd have been moved by his performance if I happened to catch a thirty minute set by Matt Boroff in an intimate club.

But I would never listen to his music at home.

The K Foundation Burn a Million Quid

After seeing Bill Drummond's "The 17" earlier in the week, a lot of KLF-related things have been running through my mind. The KLF's music has aged fairly well -- a lot better than anyone would have expected if you'd done a straw poll in early 1990's -- and I think their "stadium house" fingerprints are all over contemporary dance/hip-hop hybrids by the likes of will i am and Diddy Dirty Money. And of course "Chill Out" belongs in its own separate category of timelessness. "America: What Time Is Love" turned a lot of heads at the time with the way it took the original song and remade it into a preposterously bonkers piece of epic dance-rock bedlam, and it still sounds just as wild and unpredictable now as it did then. They applied their hit making formulas to the US market and came up with a diabolically simple approach: turn down the dance and turn up the rawk, because that's what Americans love. It turns out they were a bit too late because grunge washed away pretty much all of the dance rock in the US charts (e.g. Jesus Jones) and there was no combining the two for years afterward. Rock fans had their rock, and a completely different set of fans had their dance (typically Eurodance). If even U2 couldn't sell that combination to the American public in the mid-90's ("Pop" was a huge failure by their usual standards), then it couldn't be done.

But after all these years, I'd never seen their film of the infamously self-explanatory "The K Foundation Burn a Million Quid". These days, it's all on Youtube, together with a veritable treasure trove of their past singles, remixes, interviews, and live performances. The former KLF even have a channel where you can relive their best moments for yourselves, and seeing as their entire back catalogue remains deleted, you won't find a better place for beginning your KLF-related crash course.

I haven't watched the unedited film where they actually burn the money (except for some select clips), but it can be easily found online if you want to see it. Accompanying it is a rather fantastic bit of documentary film making. It's a brutally honest document of what they did, with plenty of criticism to go around. It's not a soapbox for Drummond and Cauty to philosophize about their ideas, and it's not a testimonial to how noble and misunderstood they are by a bunch of their closest confidants and yes men. It's remarkable that it's so even handed, considering that it was produced entirely by them and not independently.

There's hardly any sensationalism on display here. The K Foundation aren't lunatics. They come across as well reasoned, articulate individuals throughout, and the calmness and rationalism that characterizes all their conversations and interactions with others is almost enough to make you forget that they're talking about BURNING A MILLION QUID.

The most illuminating part of film occurs near the end, after we've seen the K Foundation and their associates consult with a series of curators, publicists, and art sellers in an attempt to assess the value of their work (i.e. a pile of ashes in a ratty suitcase). Earlier in the film, Cauty said that normally, money controls you, but by making art out of money, then they'd be the ones in control. Sure, it sounds profound and thought provoking, until you remember that (say it with me) he's talking about DESTROYING NEARLY ALL THEIR MONEY. Anyhow, they're sitting in Cauty's house, speaking with an advisor (who I'm not sure was named in the film) and he's giving them some tough love, and Cauty suggests forging a brick out of the ashes (which in fact they did do sometime later), which led to this exchange:

Advisor: If you want to get rid of the ashes, just give the ashes to me!
Drummond: We didn't say we didn't want to ...
Cauty [interrupting]: But they're our ashes. [short pause, and a hurt look forms on his face, like a boy whose about to have his toys taken away by his parents for doing something bad] They're ours.

It might be junk, but it's his junk. The advisor goes on to say that they're scared to sell the ashes and have them on display in a gallery somewhere, because once that happens, people will laugh and say how ridiculous they are and that's something the K Foundation can't deal with. They scoff at the notion, but they don't have a comeback.

Suddenly, it all made (a bit more) sense to me. The KLF spent a career trying to get away with whatever they could. No matter how silly it might have seemed on paper, they weren't afraid to try. Take a reworking of the Doctor Who theme to #1 on the UK singles chart? Sounds ridiculous, but they did it. Storm the charts with so-called "stadium house", make fun of rock star excesses by performing live with a huge entourage, wearing strange costumes, and playing guitars that aren't actually plugged it? They did that too, and sold millions of records doing it. But they were in control of everything. They got into the music business when they wanted to, and got out when they wanted to. On the way out, they deleted their back catalogue, which might have cost them a fortune in future royalties but it was their decision, they owned their art, and didn't care if they were throwing away millions of dollars in future royalties by keeping it for themselves.

They gave plenty of interviews, and generally weren't shy about talking about burning the money*. They proudly screened the unedited one-hour film of them burning the money, and made a point of advertising that they'd be answering questions after the screenings. There's a scene of a screening in Manchester, and a polite but incredulous audience where only Tony Wilson had anything positive to say about the artistic value of burning a million quid ("it's very art", he said, and of course Tony Wilson would love something like this, did you even have to ask?). I believe the K Foundation when they said that it wasn't about the publicity or about promoting themselves. And they're obviously weren't afraid of people criticizing their art ... provided that they were a part of the process. The criticism and the giggling and people saying they were selfish or indulgent was tolerable (or even stimulating!) as long as it happened under their supervision. Showing films, music, art, whatever -- good or bad, they remained in control, it could always be about them, they could lord over the process, and when they got bored of doing so, they could always stop. But selling their art would take everything completely out of their control, and that was something they couldn't tolerate.

*For added entertainment, check out the K Foundation interview on the Gay Byrne Show (a late night talk show hosted by a legendary Irish radio and TV presenter), and be sure to watch until the end to hear Joe Elliott from Def Leppard attempting to tear them down.

Rebecca Black

File this one under "everyone else has something to say about this, so why should I comment on it too?"

I wouldn't say that I called this one (check note #5), and I'm certainly not saying that I was the first person to express that kind of sentiment, but this is obviously one of those times when I'm happy to stand by my comments. I know that people thought I was bonkers when that comment was posted with P&J. Some felt that I was implying that all the weird covers of "Dynamite" were better than, or interchangeable with the original. This is not true. The real point is that you can become a star by appearing in a half-million dollar video on MTV or by appearing in a two thousand dollar video on Youtube -- but not necessarily the exact same type of star. The point is that both the "professional" MTV performer and the "amateur" Youtube performer are both stars in some way.

People like watching stars emerge in unexpected or unpredictable ways, which is why so many millions of viewers all cottoned onto shows like American Idol. It seemed like an exciting and original way to make stars, as opposed to having stars fed to them via tabloids or by MTV. Meanwhile, I haven't watched AI even once this season. As long as certain enterprising people think of new ways to make stars, they can be assured that there will be a celebrity-craving audience there to appreciate their effort.

In one sense, Ark Music Factory are looking like geniuses right now, but on the other hand, what they're doing isn't so different from the songwriting factories that were abundant in the 60's, it's only the technology, i.e. the method of releasing the music to the public that has changed. They have a team of writers and producers who create cookie cutter pop by the bucketload, and it costs them next to nothing. They bring in cheap talent (enter a practically limitless supply of teenagers who want to be famous), and if they release enough music, then eventually they'll stumble upon a minor hit and will make some money. Or at least that's the philosophy. Costs remain low, and therefore their risk is low. Low risk, low reward, with potential for a high reward.

The song is horrifically bad, but yeah, (un)fortunately it's so bad it winds up being good. Or at the very least, you can have a good laugh at the ridiculousness that is the video for "Friday". The Usher lookalike rapping in the CGI driving scene. Thirteen year olds driving cars and picking up other thirteen year olds. The mind-numbingly mundane lyrics. And now we have new material to dissect ... it's the acoustic version from Good Morning America! Black is jamming out on "Friday", all casual like, in what appears to be her living room. In the room with her, smiling and grooving along to the song, are all her the friends from the video. Even the Usher lookalike is there, they're all there, it's like the final scene of "The Wizard of Oz"! But here's what I want to know: how it possible that Black doesn't know the lyrics to her own song? She flubs the words at least three times in this two and a half minute clip!

Bill Drummond Presents "The 17" @ Levontin 7

There was a palpable buzz in the air while sitting in our chairs in a packed Levontin 7 waiting for Bill Drummond to appear and ... to do what exactly?

After a brief introduction, Drummond walked swiftly down the centre aisle and to the front of the room. He carried a few poster rolls under his arm, set them down to the side, began pacing, and glared at the people in the first couple of rows in the audience. I was a little freaked out. I kept thinking to myself, "this guy burned a million quid. He threatened to cut up a live sheep onstage at the Brit awards during a live performance. Who the hell knows what he's got planned for us tonight?"

I respect the hell out of Bill Drummond, he had one of the most unlikely, most bizarre, most unbelievable (in either sense of the word, it was both "amazing, remarkable" and "totally not believable, you would never believe his story could be true" careers in the history of pop. I went to this show partly out of curiosity, partly because I wanted to see a legend in person, and I suspect that most people in attendance this past Monday night would say the same.

For most of the performance, we listened to Drummond as he told a number of stories -- stories about his love of "Strawberry Fields Forever", about his odd listening habits, and about his endless search for great music that would affect him as strongly as the music he heard as a teenager. He tried a number of odd listening experiments, such as listening only to debut albums from contemporary bands (foregoing hearing old records completely), and deciding to spend entire calendar years listening only to bands whose name starts with a single letter of the alphabet. How much of this was made up for comic effect is anyone's guess, but if I was placing a bet, I'd wager between zero and two percent. I doubt that anything is too weird for Bill Drummond.

He put us to work with some call and response singing, and an exercise in group humming (done with eyes closed, both standing and sitting) that produced some surprisingly rich harmonies and ended after only a couple of minutes -- I was hoping it'd continue for a while longer. Drummond explained how the idea of The 17 came from a cross-country drive spent listening to (and recording) the hum of his car, hung some posters explaining the principles behind The 17 (he's been promoting his work around the world and thus had these posters translated into eighteen languages), and asked us to sign the posters on the way out as a sign of our participation in the event.

At home later that night, of course I was curious about what I had just seen, and it was only then that I discovered that The 17 is already a few years old, and that Drummond has written a stack of performance scores (here's one I really like) that expand upon his concepts. Each performance takes place with whoever happens to show up to the venue, which on this night meant me and about one hundred other people. Nothing ever gets recorded and nothing ever will (at one point, he criticized two audience members for filming him and politely insisted that they erase whatever footage they had shot) so the only way to experience Drummond's art is to see him in person. That's a powerful concept for me, that is, the idea that music just happens and nothing ever gets recorded, and before you scoff at the notion, recall that this *was* the definition of music for all but the past one hundred years or so.

There's no doubt in my mind that Drummond believes strongly in his art. I also have a hunch that he knows that getting sponsored by arts councils and getting to fly around the world and serve as a "composer in residence" to write scores where strangers shout at each other on the street is a rock and roll swindle of the highest order. Either way, it's a worthwhile experience to catch a legend in action and to watch the wheels in his head spin.

P&J 2010 (One and Done): Cathedral, "The Guessing Game"; + bonus funk!

Yep, it's mid-March and I'm still writing posts about a 2010 music poll. But timeliness wasn't really the point of this little exercise, was it?

Cathedral, "The Guessing Game (disc 1)"

30 points, t-365, voted on by Josh Langhoff

"The Guessing Game" is a double album, with one "rock" disc that pays tribute to some of the band's influence, and one disc of more conventional doom metal. I've heard just one of the discs, but it seems as though I picked the wrong one because I like my metal to sound like metal, not like "The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway". Oddly enough, they are at their best when they steer clear of anything even remotely resembling metal, like the sweet, melodic, and vaguely Zeppelin-esque title track (think of the intro "Over the Hills and Far Away"). "Cats, Incense, Candles, and Wine" is also a treat, straddling the line between The Modern Lovers' metronomic pub rock and Faust's zaniness. But straight up flower child prog metal is simply not my thing. I should listen to the second disc as well, perhaps for a future.

I'm surprised that an album like this would only get one vote. You'd think that critics would take to a double album of prog and doom metal from a veteran band like moths to a flame. The reviews weren't bad either.

Since I didn't have much to say about that album (and didn't care for it much at all), I figured I'd include a BONUS one and done album that received just one vote on P&J, but it was a #2 vote. When I first compiled this list, I included it by mistake and had already downloaded it before I realized my error.

Dâm-Funk, "Adolescent Funk"

30 points, t-365, voted on by Rob Hatch-Miller

If you like lo-fi, budget funk music, then you've come to the right place. It's like they tried to reproduce some of Prince's early output using just one modern day synth. It's full of basic, pre-programmed drum loops, corny 80's synth leads, squelchy digitized bass, and sex crazed lyrics. There's a good reason that it sounds like this -- it's a compilation of material that Dâm-Funk AKA Damon G. Riddick recorded in the late 80's and early 90's (which also explains the album title). Of course you don't need a budget to make a good record, and Riddick stretches the technology at his disposal to the max, sounding very much at home in a variety of different funky guises. He pulls off radio-friendly pop funk ("I Love Life"), disco ("When I'm With U I Think Of Her"), and electro ("I Don't Want You", a wonderful FU kiss-off) and keeps the party vibe going throughout every genre he touches. The album is probably too long by 15-20 minutes (a full hour of cheap'n'cheerful funk is a tad too much for me) but there is plenty of stuff to like here.

(added note: according to Andy Kellman's review of "Toeachizown" on Allmusic, he still uses all that old gear, even today! I can totally get behind an artist who remains proudly lo-fi by choice. Incidentally, Allmusic has yet to post to a review of "Adolescent Funk".)

Grading "Glee" -- Season 02, Episode 16, "We write the hits now"

Some of these songs and performances were obviously not meant to be taken seriously, so I'm going to switch between letter grades and a simple point system where it's appropriate. More or less, if I wouldn't mind hearing a bit more of the song in question, it gets the point, but if I'd already had enough after the allotted thirty seconds, then it doesn't get the point.

"Misery". D+. Is this the first time that a "Glee" episode featured a "cold" opening and launched directly into a song? If so, why did it have to be a paint-by-numbers Maroon 5 song? I was thoroughly bored, but at least they finally addressed the issue of the Warblers being Blaine's backup singers.

"Only Child". No point. Yes, that's enough about Rachel's totally trivial ego-driven problems. You tell her, Finn. This scene was hugely important for the episode, of course, because it advanced the original song storyline, where Rachel needs to stop delivering fake emotion and tap into how she really feels if she's going to write a great song that gives New Directions any chance of winning. But I'm judging just the song here.

"Blackbird". C-. This was pretty much the definition of the type of song Chris Colfer shouldn't be singing -- a song that requires sweetness and subtlety above all else, and absolutely requires the singer to refrain from any and all embellishment. He sounded good and the harmonies were a nice touch, but the shoe didn't fit stylistically. Plus, he sung it literally in honour of a stupid bird.

However, this did lead to the A+ Blaine/Kurt first kiss, so yet again we have a subpar performance that was nonetheless completely necessary to advance the storyline.

"Trouty Mouth". No point. Yes, the mouth jokes are way, way, old.

"Big Ass Heart". No point. Wait, Lauren dug this but hated "Fat Bottomed Girls"? I'm confused. Brian Setzer may soon be suing "Glee" for ripping off "Stray Cat Strut", if it comes to pass then you heard it here first.

"Hell to the No". Point! This was money. Fun, but Mr. Schue was right, it's not Regionals material. This was really one of the best written episodes they've ever done, in that everything tied together so well.

"Jesus Is My Friend". No point. The whole "Sue coaches Aural Intensity" plotline really went nowhere, didn't it?

"Candles"/"Raise Your Glass". B. Choosing "Candles" was a major strategic error for The Warblers. If you're going to perform a duet, then why pick a song by an unknown band that hardly anybody would have heard because it was only released a few weeks ago? As for the performance, their voices didn't mesh well, and the boy/girl vocal dynamic simply wasn't there. And obviously Kurt's extended solo Celine Dion medley that won the cheerleading national championship last year has been erased from history.

However, choosing Pink's "Raise Your Glass" was a great decision. Earlier in the year, they had an entire episode about anthems and the importance of picking a great anthem for Regionals. "Raise Your Glass" is a fantastic anthem, and they nailed this half of the performance.

In the end, the Warblers lost because they put personal issues ahead of doing what it took to win. They couldn't decide on an artistic direction for their set, and were arguing about song choices, styles, and soloists right up until the end. Blaine and Kurt were more focused on each other than on winning the competition, and in Blaine's case, he chose to sing "Candles" because performing with Kurt became more important to him than choosing a song that would give them a much better shot at winning Regionals. They didn't win, but they're both "winners" because they have each other ... yep, that's as corny as it can possibly get, but it's also simple and effective romantic storytelling that works almost every time.

"Get It Right"/"Loser Like Me". A. OK, the outcome here wasn't exactly in doubt because obviously New Directions wasn't going to lose with seven episodes left in the season. The build to Regionals has been horrible, in that there wasn't the slightest bit of urgency surrounding the competition. But they did get one thing right -- Rachel's ongoing quest to recover some purpose in her life, post-Finn. And in the end, she did exactly what she said she was going to do: "focus on her career", write a great song, and win the day at Regionals. Blaine and Kurt couldn't win, but they have each other. Rachel is all alone, but stuck to the game plan and executed even though nobody (except for Finn) thought she could do it. It's beautiful storytelling, it really is. Simple and effective when done right.

These two songs have been floating around the internet for weeks, but I always make a point of not hearing "Glee" songs until the episode airs. I had serious doubts about whether they could make original songs work, but they delivered the goods, big time. "Get It Right" was a perfect vehicle for Lea Michele, and "Loser Like Me" not only captures the essence of gleek, but is also ridiculously catchy (is there anything Max Martin can't do these days? Everything he touches is a hit). And yeah, it's the anthem they were searching for during the previous weeks. These two songs -- but especially "Loser Like Me" -- accomplished what a season worth of meandering plotlines couldn't. It felt like the culmination of something.

Buzzcocks @ Barby Club

I saw Buzzcocks play once before, in Toronto in 2006, and since that gig I doubt I listened to a single note of their music. Oh, I'm sure I heard a song or two on the radio at some point, but I never sat down to listen to any of their music, never thought to myself how long it had been since I gave "Singles Going Steady" a spin and decided to dig it out. On the other hand, I probably listened to Pete Shelley's "Homosapien" about a million times over the past few years. That's because it is and will continue to be the best song released by a Buzzcock.

Now for the good news. The Toronto gig rocked, in fact, it was one of the best "surprisingly great" concerts I've ever seen. Could a bunch of guys in their 50's play this music with enough rapid-fire, manic energy to make the songs work? Well, they showed me, erasing any doubts about their abilities from the moment they took the stage to the moment they left it.

The expected norm is probably closer to what we saw from tonight's openers (Taklit? Will investigate ...). The histrionics of the singer just smacked of a guy going overboard to relive past new wave glories, although to be honest, he does still let out a hell of a scream.

The lines on Steve Diggle's face are slowly turning him into Keith Richards, and he's got the mannerisms to match. Judging purely by his looks, this grayer and heavier version of Pete Shelley should be teaching high school chemistry somewhere, although how his voice has managed to barely change in the past 30 years is one of those miracles of modern physiology. However, none of this comes off like a band trying to relive past glories because of one simple reason -- they rock so fucking hard. Harder, crazier, and more intense than the gig from five years ago (seeing them in a more intimate venue with better sound definitely helps). I can't envision that anyone would be fit to complain that they played for just under one hour (including encore) because how long can any human being keep up the pace of playing 20+ two-minute punk rock songs? And an encore of "Oh Shit"/"Ever Fallen In Love"/"Orgasm Addict" is almost impossible to beat, easily ensuring that everyone goes home happy and satisfied.

A surprisingly great gig, yet again. Next time I'll have to remember not to be so surprised.

Grading "Glee" -- Season 02, Episode 15

I felt like I was watching "Glee" during the Celibacy Club, because those were the only times it seemed like well-established "Glee" personalities were being themselves. For the rest of the episode (including most of the musical performances), I was watching some other, as yet unnamed series where Santana is a bitch because she's secretly gay for Brittany and the only name in the opening credits is Gwyneth Paltrow's. Just about the only part of this episode that featured half-decent dialogue by believable characters was during the conversation between Kurt and his dad (he gave pretty good advice too!)

"Do You Wanna Touch Me". C-. Maybe this was supposed to be a PG-13 semi-racy performance, but watching the "Glee" cast rip open their shirts and jackets over and over and over again gave me the creeps. I had a befuddled look on my face not unlike the expressions that Quinn and Rachel had during the first half of the song, not because the overt sexuality was too much for my innocent little mind, but because I was too stunned to hide my eyes from the horror. I gave this a not horrible grade because the song is great, the vocal is easy and very difficult to ruin, and Brittany and Santana's dose of genuine sexiness.

"Animal". D+. You can more or less copy/paste my comments from the previous song and put them here. I knocked down the grade because of the complete lack of anything even resembling sexy. A dozen girls wearing school uniforms, and not a single sexy schoolgirl among them!

"Kiss". D-. "'Kiss' as a tango? That's awesome ... and ridiculous". If you can't handle the falsetto all the way through, then don't even attempt the song. Or re-work the song. While you're at it, learn the difference between "doing 'Kiss' as a tango" and "doing the tango while listening to 'Kiss'". And Gwyneth Paltrow and Matthew Morrison have zero chemistry together, dancing or otherwise.

"Landslide". C. I'm all for having more Stevie Nicks songs on "Glee", but by this point in the episode, I was completely disinterested in all the forced emotion surrounding the Brittany/Santana relationship. I mean, they've had two girls making out for the past two years and have been treating it as a joke all this time, and now suddenly we're supposed to take this seriously and empathize with the repressed feelings they're supposed to be having? And it's all because Gwyneth Paltrow shows up and is entrusted with the magical powers to make things better?

"Afternoon Delight". B. The polar opposite of everything else in this episode in so many ways. The song itself? Crap. But the performance? The outfits? The harmonies? Rachel singing as if it were a Broadway performance? Emma grinning over the pure joy of singing a song about a yummy "dessert"? Puck making raunchy faces like he was starring in a hair metal video? John Stamos playing drums on "Glee", finally? The giant PIE on the video screens in the background? Loved it. This could have earned a much higher grade if the performance had been more than a minute long.