Honest truth: I am a sophomore release hater.  I do not know when it happened or for what reason, but suddenly and quite viciously, I one day realized that I preferred a debut release from almost each and every band.  In my second year as a music writer, it’s been hard for me to go back to bands I discovered in the first as I was almost angry at the waning creative output.  There have been fights and things thrown as I’ve stubbornly refused to acknowledge the new music of a one-time favorite band.  I am a hard-headed bull.

Thus, I’ve waited for The Cave Singers Welcome Joy to percolate a bit, to sit on a shelf and accrue its hype or hate.  I wanted to come in to this album bereft of preordained hatred.  And oh how glad I am that I took this Cave Singers’ sabbatical, as the new album, with Pete Quirk’s endearingly nasally vocals, is a warm robe, a quiet reminder of why I loved this band so much. At one time I thought this might be an album of sea shanties, but I blame this on a captain’s hat Quirk wore at one live show and the fact that the first song released was called “Beach House.”

Ahoy, no sea shanty here, just solid porch music, happily jug-dancing on your ears.

The Cave Singers - At The Cut

I’m still pretty ashamed of myself that even six months ago I considered myself a non-fan of the works of Daniel Rossen (Grizzly Bear, Department of Eagles).  I don’t know what it was, but something about the orchestration and the less conventional structure of their songs just didn’t play well on my sensitive ears … or maybe it was just another victim of my inability to listen to something and then me judging said something based solely on a snowballing word of mouth.  Hmmmm … that sounds about right.

Well, for some reason or another (I believe you can thank the song “Knife”) I ended up being quite a fanatic for Grizzly Bear and in turn, the impressive new album from Rossen and his college best friend Fred Nicolaus.  There’s a turn to their sound that is both classical in origin, but fun and spirited and almost rocking at the same time.  It’s this turn that I hope the duo brings to their live show tonight at Neumos.  If anything Pete Quirk and The Cave Singers will get your feet stomping. This I promise.

Department of Eagles - Teenagers

I’ve been bitching about the greatness of good shows all week, and I think Thursday (the best day of the week) heard my pleas and really stepped up its game.  ‘Cause there’s two shows tonight, yes TWO SHOWS, that’ll hopefully I’ll be able to get out to.

1.  Little Joy @ El Corazon

Last time I was at El Corazon for a, sigh Buckcherry show, I vowed I would never return.  I stepped in blood, I got pushed around by smartly dressed hardcore kids, and was not impressed with the gigantic pole that blocked my vision of the stage.  Yet, the coming of Little Joy has me pretty excited.  I can’t imagine what this sort of dreamy, pop band will sound like on stage, but I’m certainly excited about the prospects.  Also, I think it’s fun to see famous drummers/musicians in other incarnations aside from their famed bands.  Like that time I saw Paul McCartney passed out in alley, high on glue-huffing - that was fun.

2.  The Cave Singers @ Neumos

The Cave Singers are very close to being my favorite local band.  I love Pete Quirk’s unique little warble and Derek Fudesco’s enormous knees just stomping away on stage.  Many fear that a live performance by this trio of back porch country folk could be boring, but I promise Quirk and Fudesco are brilliant on stage.  Quirk, all tight jeans, trucker hat and Iggy Pop leg shimmies; Fudesco, all big ass knees and speedy fingers.  Supposedly they’re unleashing some new cuts today … new cuts that rock.

Pick and choose my friends.  Pick and choose.

The Cave Singers - Seeds of Night

Yikes, I think my old age is really starting to catch up with me.  The cobwebs surrounding the old brain pan have grown increasingly thicker and I more and more I find myself forgetting the, er, important things in life.  Thus, the idea of writing about an already alcohol clouded event nearly a week and a half (yes I know, my fault entirely) afterward is a fairly daunting proposition.  But for you, Sound on the Sound’s loyal readers, I’ll excavate the shattered remnants of my smoother-by-the-day gray matter to at least dredge out a few solid memories.

As always, thanks for reading.

Craig Finn, happier ‘n shit :: Photo by Josh

1.  In comparision to day one, day two of Block Party was an oasis of calm in terms of crowd size.  If I’d decided against returning for day two, I’d have left Block Party thinking that after three years, I might have to bade goodbye to the festival.  Day one was a swamp of drunken, underaged hipsters that you literally had to part to do anything.  It was frustrating and suffocating and took away from the experience in all ways.  Day two on the other hand was still crowded, but for whatever reason (no Girl Talk?  no Vampire Weekend?) it was completely bearable.  You could find friends, lines for the crapper were at a minimum - it was damn near civilized.  Block Party organizers take note: day one - painful; day two - slightly refreshing.

2.  For whatever reason The Cave Singers have sort of faded in to obscurity lately.  Blame it on the massive hype of another, somewhat similar Seattle band (ahem, Fleet Foxes, cough), but I haven’t heard, or even thought of the sweet Appalachian croons of Pete Quirk in a dog’s eye.  Luckily, I rushed through my mandatory three PBRs in the back of my van, so I could sprint to the Main Stage and catch three songs of their wildly impressive set.  I always imagined Mr. Quirk to be a dark, depressed man, but bearded and sporting a tank-top he seemed like the epitome of a friendly, bantering frontman.  Washboards were played, somber lyrics were song, the audience swayed as only a Seattle audience can - all in all a great way to start the day.

Well, I didn’t see this awesome part of Builders and the Butchers :: Photo by Josh

3.  As long as the subjects been broached: Fleet Foxes, I’m bored.  I love you guys, I’ve been hyping your shit since you broke out at SXSW, hell for a minute Keyboardin’ Casey was actually responding to my emails, but the last few times I’ve beared witness to your harmonic barage, I’ve been, I don’t know, disappointed?  It still sounds beautiful.  Robin Pecknold still has a face like a bear, and a voice like an angel, but it feels practiced now, rehearsed even, and that’s sad to me.  There was something so primal and organic about this music the first time I heard it, and maybe it’s the nature of the overplayed music, it just always seems the same now.  Don’t get me wrong, I’ll still buy your albums, I’ll still attend your shows, I just want the heart-wrenched emotion (see: Bon Iver) I know you’ve got in there somewhere.

4.  I’m really a terrible music writer when it comes down to it.  I told as many people as I could that The Builders and The Butchers were going to be the show of the festival.  I interview Ryan Sollee, I invited peeps to meet me at Neumos, I was fucking pree-pared to catch me some Builders and The Butchers and love the shit out of it … … … and then in a drunken stupor I saw that there was a line, turned directly around and found the nearest dispensary of booze I possibly could find, a continued what would end up being a near twelve-day bender.  I’m glad I at least guided some of you lucky folk in the right direction, and you better be damn sure that I’ll up front and center for their August 20th show at The Sunset.

This your brain on Chromeo :: Photo by Josh

5.  I watched Chromeo from a sitting position.  And as there are no seats at Block Party, I sat on a curb many many many feet away from the stage, staring at the fleshy legs of fellow concert attendees.  And you know what?  Chromeo still rocked.  They’re sort of fratty, melodic electronica was perfect for the waning hours of the day.  P-Thugg and Dave 1 kept the party rocking through out the whole set, and the visibly frantic mass of pre-twenty year olds celebrated in a restrained, enjoyable style.  Kudos to you Chromeo for completely kicking my expectations to the curb.

6.  Craig Finn, though I remember almost nothing of your set, you seemed very enthusiastic.  I remember you being very sweaty, and yelling many excited things at the crowd.  At times your face was so red I thought your head might pop, but in the end, if I remember correctly (which certainly I don’t) you performed admirably and no part of your body exploded.  Great stuff, really just fantastic stuff.

7.  That hazy little nugget is pretty much my last memory of Capitol Hill Block Party ‘08.  After this I believe many more beers were consumed, I was yelled at by someone important, pictures were taken in a small booth, and I may or not have swayed arm in arm with some sort of group of people I may or may not have known.  I think I’ll just mark this year up as another success!