Lonely Friday

Left to myself on a Friday night, the intake gets pretty nerdy: tuna sandwich, orange spice tea, and now finally - highlight! - a viewing (in large, silver cans) of Claude Vivier's "Lonely Child."

If you can't take the full 15 minutes, skip to the five minute mark and check the subtle interaction between singer and orchestra. When I don't look at the screen, I have trouble telling what's voice and what's instrument. (I love this effect in other genres, too.) Vivier apparently struggled with speech in early-childhood; I wonder if those extended vocal techniques refer to that time.

Anyway, more soon on Vivier, whose remarkable life and death is like something out of Dennis Cooper, and on his unusual (and often accessible) music, enriched by the back-story, but not in need of it.

| T -------- | T --------

Was Portishead always strong on rhythm and weak on melody? I can't remember the old stuff too well, but the new one, "Machine Gun," from the forthcoming Third, is just that. The skeleton of the song is really simple - two quarter note thumps followed by a spray of sixteenths - but the contrast in textures is satisfying, and the rhythms, slightly dragged, create a nice tension. (This is more apparent in the studio version, available for download, than in the live version above.)

Obviously the band was into the groove, too, as they let it run the entire song. It'd be nice to give props for a brave restraint, but the effect, to these ears, is more boring than hypnotic. Ditto the generic two chord progression, which sounds a lot like the band's own "Wandering Star" and loads of other pop songs. What say? Am I losing my edge or are they?

Minimum Balance

Caught the excellent Marilyn Crispell trio Sunday night at the Village Vanguard. It was the last set of a six-night run, but if the players were tired or sick of the group dynamic, you wouldn't know it. It's a killer line-up - Crispell on piano, Mark Helias on bass, and Paul Motian on drums: veteran musicians, virtuosos all, playing charts mostly written by the players themselves. I can't imagine you can make music of this caliber and complexity without sensitive ears, so it was a bit shocking when, from the very first note, it seemed obvious the drums were way too loud.

I don't know what the sound was like up on stage, but it surprises me that after 11 shows, no one off-stage had the courage to suggest the group re-think balances. It wouldn't have taken much: move Motian to the back, strip the set of mics (if there were any - tough to see from my seat) and pump up the bass and piano. But for whatever reason no one mentioned it and the music suffered.

I wish this were an exceptional occurrence, but after years of concert-going I've come to expect crappy sound - even from talented players in well regarded venues. As a consequence, I've started to see less pop and jazz and more classical, where instrumental balances are considered a crucial aspect of performance and basic audibility can be taken for granted.

What's the deal, though, with pop and jazz? Why do we tolerate shitty sound, especially when we know from recordings the revelations clarity can bring?

My best guess is that it has to do with the social origins of the music. Long before popular forms were heard in concert, they were played at marches, dances, bordellos, sporting events. While the music may have grown in complexity and subtlety (in some cases necessitating the sort of focus at one time the preserve of classical music) people still expect to be able to order a drink mid-set, to chat with their friends, and move about the room.

Another factor, especially at rock shows, may be that identification of volume with intensity I mentioned the other day. It always confuses me to put on ear plugs at a concert. My dad says it's something like wearing sunglasses to a museum and I think that's right: no matter how good the plugs, you lose a ton of information. And yet! People seem not only to accept but to embrace this aspect of the live show. (You get this a lot at bars and parties, too. It always shocks me to see people shouting over the music week after week. Wouldn't it be easier to just turn it down a few clicks? And yet! Something's obviously lost.)

Anyway, balance issues aside, it was still a pretty satisfying show. Even when Motian drowned out the rest of the group, there was plenty to enjoy in his rhythms alone. The man is some sort of rhythmic genius: at times he would play nothing but his ride with one stick, and I would still have trouble keeping up.

Helias, who's played with tons of amazing musicians and yet kept a relatively low profile, was also impressive. He has a rich tone and strong melodic sense, reminiscent of Charlie Haden, and his playing, like the master's, seemed extremely modest - always in service of the overall sound, nothing extraneous.

Crispell, though it was her gig, was in some ways the hardest to gauge. Maybe it had to do with that cursed lack of audibility, but it took focus to hear what she was doing and she didn't always attract it. Her playing was an odd pairing of knotty atonality and sweeping lyrical passages - the former generally coming off better than the latter. That said, like Helias, she seemed an incredibly gracious player, even in the selection of pieces which were, I think without exception, by her band mates.

I'd be curious to hear what others have to say about the volume issue, as it's so pervasive - and I am so utterly convinced that it needs to be rectified - that something must be amiss. Lest balances go askew in this blog, please chime in.

Chiu-d Out

Disappointing show last night at the Stone by violinist Tom Chiu of the excellent FLUX Quartet. Admittedly, vibes were off before the music even started: we were made to wait in the cold until five minutes to show-time (with no apology or explanation from the guy at the door), the performance was about 20 minutes late to start, and there were several ear-splitting mistakes during the mic check. The no-frills feel of the Stone is cool - no reservations, no drinks, reasonable ticket prices (with half the proceeds going to the players) - but this was just unprofessional.

Things improved when Chiu finally got started, generating delicate Aphex-y blips from a laptop and processor. He twiddled knobs for a few minutes, making surprisingly little impact on the sound (I'm often confused by causal relationships in laptop performances), then picked up a piece of paper and intoned from what sounded like a disclaimer on a financial report. I gather the idea was to poke fun at those market-minded stiffs who don't dig things like improv at the Stone, but the words never gelled with the music and the end result seemed pretentious and smug.

The next piece was a duet with another laptop artist, Michael Schumacher. We were told Chiu caught Schumacher's set at 8 and was so impressed he asked him to stick around and jam. (This was apparently the first time they'd met.) The results, as one might expect, were confused and uninspired: Chiu dutifully working his way through an arsenal of extended violin techniques (harmonics, microtones, detuning, using the bow percussively, etc.), while Schumacher's laptop emitted bland crackling sounds which I think even Chiu may have mistaken momentarily for speaker malfunction.

From there, things got better (Chiu joined by fellow Fluxers Conrad Harris (violin) and Max Mandel (viola) for some more structured improvisation on a Chiu composition) and much worse (Chiu accompanying an enthusiastic actress from the audience who wanted to recite a monologue from Henry the VI). By the last number, Chiu advised his assorted crew, which by then had grown to include Schumacher, Mandel, the composer Matthew Welch, and a poet desultorily introduced as "Crazy Mike," that they ought to keep it short. I got the sense no one in the audience objected.

As my friend commented on our walk home, Chiu is obviously well-trained and well-intentioned, but knows little about improv and seems to view it as something of a facile trick. I'm all for musicians taking risks, but if the idea is just to entertain oneself and a few sympathetic friends and colleagues, don't put an ad in the paper and don't charge.

Please Shut Up

Great piece by Carl Wilson on Deerhoof and the uses of silence. The gist: much of the band's power derives from their use of dynamic shifts. Here, here!

I've been to hundreds of shows and it still seems magical when a band locks in for a sudden shift: soft to loud (or vice-versa), trebly guitar assault to thick drum & bass groove - you get the idea. I'm not the only one; the crowd inevitably goes wild for this.

My question: why doesn't this happen more often? If everyone digs music with dynamic shifts, why do so few of us make it? My provisional answer: ego, childish lack of control, and the false identification of volume with intensity. I've played in several bands, and too often, when a piece calls for quiet, people balk, noodle (usually with increasing volume), or ignore the instruction altogether. When people have instruments in their hands they want to make sound.

I just read on Alex Ross's site about a Webern piece (Six Pieces for Orchestra) which calls for something like three notes from the trombones in 15 minutes. I have never met a rock musician who could keep quiet for so long (nor, to be fair, a rock piece which calls for such extravagant instrumentation, but you get my meaning). Maybe we need notation, too?

Anyway, it's a great post and well worth your attention. And incidentally, if there's anyone in NYC looking to make music, get in touch. My output these days is leaning far too heavily on silence. Outerbridge at gmail.

Mahl-Adapted

I've been wondering about Toronto ever since I learned urban philosopher Jane Jacobs forsook her beloved New York to move there in 1968. Now I find out some crazy jugendlicher has been tagging walls around Corktown "Gustav Mahler?" Sign me up!

15 Step

I’ve heard In Rainbows about five times now, enough to know I like it, but too soon for any definitive statements. (Sorry, Alice. Sorry, Thom.) Meantime, I thought I’d hold you with a quick description of the first track “15 Step” which so far strikes me as one of the best on the album and lends itself well to the sort of "evidence gathering" that was supposed to be happening here from day one.

As usual, I haven’t paid much attention to lyrics, but the title makes a sort of musical sense when you consider the piece is in 5/4 meter. (If you were in music school and an incredible nerd, you might make up a 15 step dance and feel confident you were staying in time. Most other pop songs, in 3/4 or 4/4, would require a 12 or 16 step - just fyi.)

Anyway, the piece opens in this awkward meter with annoyingly trebly drums to match. Yorke’s voice when it enters provides relief and contrast. His melody, somewhat unusual for this band, is blues-based, and he delivers it in a smooth croon that reminds me of a young Michael Jackson.

It’s a stark introduction – just Yorke and drums – but the ear doesn’t miss much as the vocal melody traces chords and implies its own harmony. That said, it’s another relief when the guitars come in after two cycles, fleshing out the harmony and providing more smooth textures in contrast to the drums.

With the guitar in, and a few measures later a deep melodic bass, the melody intensifies and you think you’ve arrived at the chorus. Could be, but then it lasts longer than the purported verse and you never get it exactly the same way twice. Like a lot of great Radiohead songs (“2+2 = 5” and “Paranoid Android” come immediately to mind) “15 Step” moves in a straight line rather than cyclically.

The rest of the song rides the chorus-like groove with a few cool touches along the way: a group of kids (see above) whooping as the beat snaps back around, a sudden reverb blur as Yorke intones “15 Step,” a melodic swell during a breakdown which I still can’t place as vocals or synth.

The lyrics from what little I gather are classic Yorke ready-mades: “cat get your tongue,” “won’t take my eyes off the ball again,” “reel me out and cut the string.” Yorke, as always, seems to have a lot on his mind, but I think sound usually trumps sense in these songs. (Perhaps the most movingly delivered line: “etcetera, etcetera.”)

In any event, it's a great one. The textures have beautiful contrast, the vocal performance is as good as any Yorke has given, and the odd meter feels entirely natural as I do my weird dance. Have you heard it yet? Thoughts?

Pedal Pointers

I'm not generally interested in music written to demonstrate technical principles, but a recent assignment to compose a piece making use of "pedal points" has been a lot of fun. There's a good, long explanation of pedals (sometimes also known as pivot tones) at Wiki, but a more rough definition might just be "a note held over from one chord to another." If we were to switch from a C-chord (C-E-G) to a G chord (G-B-D), say, the note G would be our pivot (or the only note that shows up in both chords).

When pedals are used frequently, they give music a sort of droning, static quality, and make transitions between chords fluid. (Power chords, used frequently by novice guitarists, can sound choppy because they don't make use of pedals. See "Iron Man.")

In any event, rather than bore you with theory, I figured I'd give you a few favorite examples. The first is "Everything in Its Right Place," from Radiohead's Kid A, released in 2000. You can hear the pedal in the keyboard introduction: it's the highest note repeated in each of the three-chord series.

The second piece is by Chopin: Prelude no. 15 from 1839. It's been nicknamed the "Raindrop" prelude because of a series of steadily repeated eighth notes, supposedly inspired by rain beating on the roof of the composer's home (with George Sand) in Majorca. It's these "raindrops" - gentle, then stormy, then gentle again - which are the pedal points here. Try to ignore the guy's facial expressions; they're pretty raunch.

Finally, there's "French Disko," a Stereolab single from 1993. The pedal here chimes out from the guitar during the step-wise moving chords of the verse. The back-up singer (the lovely Mary Hanson, who died in a bicycle accident in 2002) also reinforces it.

Hope that was reasonably clear. If not, just enjoy the music!

New Modest Mouse Video - "Little Motel"

Bandwagon

Apparently Jake mistook my absence as his cue to turn this into a Radiohead fanboy site. I half expect naked photos of Jonny Greenwood to appear in his next post.

We could be posting about that awesome Caribou show at Bowery Ballroom on Saturday or the last perfect beach day of the summer or Sunset Rubdown last night. All music and/or sunshine related. But that doesn't seem to be happening,

Here's what I have to say about the matter: The results for Google query "pull a Radiohead" has leapt from somewhere around 186 late Monday night to 418 (and counting) today. Let's hope this is a reversible trend, as I find the phrase almost as distasteful as that guy who doesn't realize it's not funny when you yell "Freebird!" at a concert. Embarrassing.

UPDATE:
It's now up to 926. If only the stock market was this predictable.

Here We Go

First impressions of complex music are usually pretty useless. Still, wanted to jot down a few notes if only to see how things develop:

01) Album delivered on-time, no downloading glitches
02) No jaw-dropping departures
03) They've been listening to reggae
04) In Rainbows: nothing to do with gay lib
05) Yorke's voice: still wonderful
06) "Faust Arp": they've been listening to Nick Drake
07) Phil Selway (drums): stiff or tasteful?
08) They've been listening to Krautrock (see 7)
09) Guitars: delicate or lifeless?
10) "Videotape": better solo (see clip below)?

More later, I'm afraid.

Videotape

Okay, YouTube. But check this: live version of the last song on In Rainbows.



The way he shakes his head as he plays the opening chords, weirdly off pulse, makes me wonder what the recording will be like. (The audible toe-tapping toward the end, also on a slightly different pulse, might be another clue.) Skittering polyrhythms? Here's hoping.

Enough now. I will not write about this band or album for at least an hour.

In Waiting

Just paid $10 or the iTunes equivalent of full-price for In Rainbows, out in a matter of hours. My rationale:

a) Pay-what-you-will seems like a good idea and we ought to support it. If Radiohead gets paid, other bands should follow.

b) I expect I'll listen a lot. Why stint?

c) When you don't know about pricing, imitate an established model.

d) I have this feeling Thom's wandering eye will somehow fall on my order - one of millions, yes, but I have this hunch. He'll smile or twitch or do whatever it is Thom Yorke does to express pleasure, and he'll be moved to phone. (He has my info now - am I the only one this pleases?) "You're worth it, Tommy," I'll say coolly, the new album playing softly in the background. "Thanks for the music."

Rainbows Redux

The Times Music section devotes its lead story today to a survey of East Village hipsters asked what they'll pay for In Rainbows. It's an interesting question, but the piece almost entirely fails to address how people arrive at their figures.

One guy says he'll give $5 or, weirdly, $8, depending on his next pay check; another will give $5 because Radiohead "already have plenty of money." Beyond this, we get very few justifications.

As I consider what I'm willing to pay, I realize the issues are fairly complex. For instance, doesn't it seem unfair to go with the guy above who values labor based on the economic status of the worker? Should we pay people less just because they're rich? (Shouldn't taxes account for this already?) Or conversely, should we pay less just because we're not?

It's also unclear how the cost of production (equipment, manpower, time, etc.) should factor into our decision. (And why do I suddenly sound like a Marxist?) Should a piece for orchestra go for more than one for solo guitar? Should we pay more for an album that took two years to produce rather than two weeks?

Finally, should we consider quality? If the album is great, as I expect it will be, should we pay top dollar? If it's crap and we only listen a few times, can we justify taking it for free?

Alice, commenters, what are you thinking? How do you handle these questions in other, comparable situations - at pay-what-you-will cultural institutions, say, or when they pass around the hat at a rock show? How does this mesh with your feelings on other issues - taxation, for instance, or the obligations of pharmaceutical companies to the world's poor? What would you do in an ideal world? What will you do in this one?

Dollars & Cents

It feels a bit ungrateful to quibble with Radiohead's pay-what-you-will release scheme for the upcoming In Rainbows, but did anyone else notice that to get all the music you have to drop around 80 bucks for a deluxe "discbox" (including two LPs I would guess the majority of consumers will never play)?

I'm all for artists getting paid and I suppose it's cool Radiohead still has an appreciation for LP culture and collectors in general. But if they're trying to be so egalitarian, save energy, subvert capitalist norms, why force us to pay so much to get all the songs? (I have no problem paying extra for art which can't really be had in a low-cost digital equivalent.)

I'm not sure. Perhaps the band isn't trying to be political, but just responding realistically to the MP3 age. After all, they've never shied from elaborate and expensive releases in the past; and maybe this isn't so much about saving us money as presenting more diverse options for spending it. (Have any economists chimed in? Will Radiohead make any money on this deal?)

Also, I suppose one could argue at least they're doing something, and that from a band who commands such market power it's all the more meaningful. Still, I think of this bit of ham-handedness off Amnesiac and feel a bit confused:

"We are the dollars and cents and the pounds and pence
And the mark and the yen, and yeah
We’re gonna crack your little souls
We’re gonna crack your little souls"

I'll take Fugazi over Radiohead for DIY credibility any day. But for better or worse, when it comes time to listen, ethical considerations quickly fall away. One week to go, folks. . . just one week to go!

'Tis a Gift

I'm just sitting here in front of the computer thinking about simplicity and how good it is with regards to book covers (see: one, two, three, four), album covers (see: one, two, three, four), and music in general (see: Oh, you know. It's called rock 'n roll.)

What do you think? Are these even simple? Or good? Because now I'm questioning the whole thing and getting all "whoa, what is simple, what is good, etc."

Bad Brains, Revisited.

Okay, has anyone else heard the name Bad Brains come up several times in the past year and brushed it aside each time thinking, "yeah, they say it's Bad Brains, but they probably mean some crappy reunion thing with some random guy on vocals doing a bunch of reggae?" Does anyone else feel really stupid for ignoring the fact that one of the best bands on earth released an album over a month ago, or has played a spate of live shows recently with all four original members?

The two of us that make up Gathering Evidence have never claimed to be on top of anything or particularly up to date when we talk about music. We don't scour the web for the hottest new thing or even let you know when bands we like are playing in your town before they actually play (Mae Shi, Brooklyn, last night.) But still. I am getting all worked up, not because I have been neglecting Bad Brains for the last month (or year,) but for the past ten years.

You might relate when I say sometimes there are moments when I am listening to a piece of music and think this band/musician/song/album/etc. is perfect in every way. I'll remember something like that for a period of time and then file it away while I start looking for other things that make me feel like that. For a short period of time in high school I was totally in love with Bad Brains. It seemed hard to imagine anything better than 4 black guys into jazz and reggae and prog rock playing hardcore punk with random dub intervals. Even cooler to think they started in the late seventies, before the Clash released Sandinista! (the only other album I'd heard of that attempted to mix genres like that), and before Minor Threat (often cited as the originators of hardcore) even existed.

Turns out it is still hard to imagine it. That and the fact that they are all incredibly skilled musicians -- something that's not actually all that common in a lot of punk rock -- makes them all the more impressive. Most obvious, I guess, are H.R.'s vocals. He sings so fast it can be hard to differentiate lyrics from total gibberish, but he's got some serious range. In the video up there for "Pay to Cum" he sings the verse "I came to know with now dismay/ That in this world we all must pay/ Pay to write, pay to play/ Pay to cum, pay to fight" in under three seconds and then gets almost soul-y with the chorus "And all in time/ With just our minds/ We soon will find/ What's left behind." Mad props. But his brother, Earl Hudson, is probably just as proficient on drums. Same goes for Dr. Know's guitar-playing and Darryl Jenifer's bass. They're a really tight band.

So I am excited to get the chance to hear the new album, Build a Nation, which, incidentally, was produced by Adam Yauch (MCA) of the Beastie Boys. I probably won't blog about that, though.

Note to Jake: Go here. Wait to load. Fast forward to about 2:50. Repeat as necessary.

Shame On You

Yeah, all of you, but mostly you, Jacob Wunsch. I know you read music blogs. I know you check out Pitchfork on a regular basis. You are supposed to do these things not just for your own interest, but so I don't have to. Why no mention of Dan Deacon? Is it because he's unattractive (Jake prefers attractive people, hence his frequent interaction with me?) He got on the Pitchfork best new music list back in May. I haven't bothered to read the review, but I hear Spiderman of the Rings got an 8.7 or something. Did you keep this information from me because he is annoying after more than one listen?

I've decided that maybe more reviews should be done upon the very first impression of particular piece of music. None of this "I think I'll play it a few more times to see if it holds up" business. Because isn't that first experience valid too, even if the music doesn't turn out to be destined for heavy ipod rotation? I have a good time listening to a new album, it can be really fun, especially if it sounds something like Spiderman of the Rings.

I want to be more impressionable. I will change my profile pic to that of Frank Ramos to show my solidarity with Dan Deacon fans.

So, I could be wrong, but I think Dan Deacon is a genius. "The Crystal Cat," "Okie Dokie," and "Snake Mistakes" make me feel lucky to be living in the 21st century. Though I can appreciate ye olde timey things like record players, typewriters and monocles, you will rarely hear me badmouthing anything that pulls us a little further out of the dark ages. So when someone gets his masters in electro-acoustic and computer music composition he gets points in my book.
Dan Deacon's music's not all haphazard college like you might expect, either. He just likes to use technology to his advantage. Here's a nice interactive video of how Dan Deacon works. Though the vocoder might be one of the more annoying instruments out there (think that stupid Cher song that goes "do you believe...",) it looks pretty fun to use. So does the other stuff, actually. Jake? Want to go to some flea markets?

Please view this unpopular but extremely enjoyable (in my opinion) youtube video of the song "The Crystal Cat." Warning: this may trigger seizures.



Seeing him play is supposed to be like hanging out at a giant dance party with him in the middle of everything. It's unfortunate that the next time he plays in New York will be at the infamous Webster Hall, opening for Girl Talk. Maybe he'll set up somewhere other than the stage?

September 6th - Seattle, WA @ The Vera Project
September 7th - Portland, OR @ Holocene
September 8th - Chicago, IL @ The Hideout Block Party (5 pm)
September 8th - Chicago, IL @ AV-Aerie (2000 W. Fulton) (8pm)
September 12th - Toronto, ON @ The Phoenix*
September 15th - New York, NY @ Webster Hall*
September 17th - Philadelphia, PA @ Starlite Ballroom*
September 20th - Charlottesville, VA @ Satellite Ballroom*
September 21st - Asheville, NC @ The Orange Peel*
September 22nd - Atlanta, GA @ MJQ Concourse*
September 23rd - Hattiesburg, MS @ Thirsty Hippo
September 24th - Houston, TX @ Walters on Washington
September 25th - Austin, TX @ The Mohawk
September 27th - San Diego, CA @ Epicentre*
September 28th - Los Angeles, CA @ Echoplex*
September 29th - San Francisco, CA @ The Fillmore*
October 4th - Oberlin, OH @ Dionysus Disco
October 5th - Minneapolis, MN @ First Avenue*
October 6th - Iowa City, IA @ The Picador*
October 11th - St. Louis, MO @ The Billiken Club
October 12th - Grinnell, IA @ Grinnell University Gardner Lounge
October 19th - Bennington, VT @ Bennington University
October 20th - Alfred, NY @ Alfred University
*=opening for Girl Talk

More Tours

Everyone's favorite Australian's, the Lucksmiths, are finally returning to the U.S.
So far the only dates I can find are as follows:

Sept. 23rd at Bottom of the Hill, San Francisco, CA
Sept. 24th at Crocodile Cafe, Seattle, WA
Sept. 27th at T.T. and the Bear's Place, Cambridge, MA
Sept. 28th at the Knitting Factory, NY, NY
Oct. 4th at Emo's Lounge, Austin, TX

Tours, Tours

Here's a question. Does anyone else find this as strange as I do? Interpol and Liars at Madison Square Gardens? Maybe it's not so weird, actually (I can flip-flop just like that.) Jake says he doesn't see why Liars and Interpol are placed into the same category. It makes some sort of sense to me. They're both what every 18 year old guy wants to be, right? The guitars are loud. I love guitars. It is said that white people like guitars. You might argue that Liars are more about drums. Well, you're probably right, but do you think they're complaining about playing Madison Square Gardens? Wait, I lost the point.

Jake, you also say you don't get Interpol at all, or why people think they're good. I like them. I think they're good. Maybe not mind-blowing or anything. Not as good as Liars. But they have guitars, remember? And some decent hooks. And they are very good grey day music. I maintain that maybe you are just jealous. Quit reading this stupid blog entry and make some music already, okay?

Another thing: Since when are they on Capitol Records? Didn't they listen to my rant about major labels? I saw Carlos on the subway the other day and he had this big fat expensive watch on. Just you wait, friend. They will suck you dry, and your fancy watch too.

On a related note, you can now start preparing your wallets for the two weeks surrounding my birthday (I left out the Webster Hall shows for the obvious reason that that place makes me unhappy):

Gruff Rhys (Hiro Ballroom 9/21, Union Hall 9/22)
The Lucksmiths (Knitting Factory, 9/28)
Akron/Family (Bowery Ballroom, 9/30)
Mountain Goats (Bowery Ballroom, 10/1; Studio B, 10/2)
Caribou (Bowery Ballroom, 10/6)
Sunset Rubdown (Bowery Ballroom, 10/8 & 10/9)

I'm afraid I'm too lazy to list the dates in other cities. Sorry about that. This is just a list to remind me of what I'm doing in the fall. Kind of like how wish lists on amazon are only to remind you which books you want to check out at the library.