I wrote this week’s column in conjunction with The Reader‘s cover story on Obama, a collection of where-were-you comments from writers and others, limited to 150 words. Here’s what I submitted:

We’d talked about the possibility that he might actually lose. It resided there in the back of our heads, an inkling of dread. Teresa was worried that the pundits, who had ordained him weeks earlier, had in fact jinxed him, like a sports announcer confidently proclaiming only moments before the field-goal kicker takes the field: “He’s made 49 in a row, and if he makes this one — at a distance no further than an extra point — a perfect 50 and a new NCAA record!”

We all know what happens next.

Well, it didn’t happen this time. Nothing was going to jinx this outcome — even though our worst fears seemed validated when “that other one” led for about a half-hour as the very first results came in from a southern-tier bible-belt state. As the night wore on, the networks’ multi-million-dollar JumBoMaps turned blue along the northern edges, dripping slowly downward, and it became obvious that there was no stopping it.

That comment leads into this:

Column 198: Next Big Thing
What does Obama sound like?

Seeing as our cover story this week is about the new president, I wanted to write something in the spirit of the moment, but at the same time, blend music into the equation. Unfortunately, it’s not that easy.

While watching the holograms on CNN last Tuesday night, having tired of the gee-whiz back-slapping on MSNBC, I wondered what the soundtrack for an Obama administration will sound like. Certainly it couldn’t be any worse than what we’ve been suffering through for the last eight years. It used to be that troubled times produced great music that defined a generation, while good times produced flaccid, empty pop. Or maybe that’s just a cliché.

The turmoil of the ’60s and Viet Nam gave us Dylan and Hendrix and all that “freedom rock” that lingers today in Cadillac commercials and on classic radio stations. When Viet Nam ended, along came the go-go ’70s and disco — a coke-fueled thump-thump-thump-a-thon that coaxed people into polyester and onto the dance floor. It was, essentially, brainless and disposable.

But as the decade waned and the economy began to tank — not only here but around the world — a nation woke up with a coke hangover, broke and jobless and angry. The next generation looked at all that polyester and excess and was rightfully sickened. Punk rock was born, with its snarling fuck-you lyrics and gruesome safety-pin fashion. Punk was revolutionary, if not short-lived.

After its initial shock wore off, punk quickly became passé. The world moved on to the ’80s and the conservative comfort of Reagan and Wall Street and the self-centered Me Generation. With it came vacuous, neon-colored faux-glam hair metal. Meanwhile, a ’70s phenomena called hip-hop slowly began to build a following and invade the national culture, never really being taken seriously by critics who thought “rapping” was a gimmick and a fad that would fade before the end of the ’80s. How very wrong they would be.

So, with the market crash of ’87, the dismantling of the Berlin Wall and the rise of another recession, America grew tired of Reagan’s conservative bullshit. Hair metal was torn from the screens of MTV by grunge — a kinder, gentler punk drenched in self-loathing and nihilism. Shortly after the arrival of Nevermind came the arrival of Clinton. Happy days were here again, and with it came the Backstreet Boys and N’Sync and the slow decline of America’s taste in music.

As the century came to a close both fat and happy, GW showed up to lead us from 9-11 and into a “war on terror” fought on two fronts — three if you count the war fought against his own citizens’ personal freedoms. These last two years should have been the time when this generation’s version of protest or punk or grunge emerged to give voice to anger and dissent. But it never happened. Sure, grampa Neil did his usual anti-government album, but no one listens to Neil anymore. Our own Conor Oberst briefly caught the nation’s attention on The Tonight Show with his rant “When the President Talks to God,” but it, too, was cast aside and ignored. If you listened to the radio, it seemed like no one cared what was going on, as long as they could tune into American Idol and cast their vote for this week’s haircut.

Where was the revolution we all yearned for? Why didn’t anything happen? Maybe it was because this next generation never felt the pain. They didn’t know anyone fighting “over there.” Iraq is a television show that people quit watching after the first few seasons. Economic downturn? Other than the market crashing every other day and the price of gas rising to ridiculous heights, then falling again, no one noticed. Or no one cared. The next generation is stooped in comfort and convenience. It’s too easy to isolate the world’s problems into sizable, media-friendly chunks that can be turned off and ignored with the push of a Playstation button.

Or maybe they just decided to take matters into their own hands… and vote.

Obama is this generation’s protest song. He’s the new punk, the new grunge, the new Dylan we’ve been waiting for. His lyrics have galvanized today’s youth better than any song ever could. He’s got the words down pat, now he just needs to find a tune to go along with it. Let’s hope it has a beat you can dance to.

An addendum to last week’s column: Reports are circulating about the 7 percent cut in Omaha World-Herald staff that went down yesterday. The layoffs include 15 newsroom staff. I haven’t been able to confirm any names. These are indeed dark days for the folks in print media…

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Tonight at The Waiting Room, Brooklyn folk-punk band O’Death plays with Lincoln band Triggertown and a 4-piece version of Midwest Dilemma fresh from the road. Here’s a rave review of a recent O’Death show. Sounds pretty good to me, especially for a measly $8, 9 p.m.

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Also, for those with Twitter, Lazy-i is now Twittering at http://twitter.com/tim_mcmahan. Consider it a social media experiment. I know I do. Comments will be mostly music in nature — brief reports from live shows, micro-comments on music playing on the iPhone, tinyurl links to relevant content, etc. Follow me by clicking the “follow” button.

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Nothing like a charity event to bring out a crowd on a Tuesday night. Actually, I didn’t talk to anyone who really knew who Lori Wirth is, though all sympathized with her horrendous plight. With around 200 on hand and folks throwing extra green into the pot she’ll at least have a little more cash to help get the bills paid.

I got there just before Ladyfinger took the stage (Notice that, anymore, no one mentions the “NE” that’s supposed to be tacked onto their name? I doubt that anything “legal” has been resolved, just a general reticence by the fans to acknowledge the ridiculous lawyer tag). The set was mostly (if not all?) new material that they just recorded as the follow-up to Heavy Hands. As much as I liked that record’s plodding, crack-of-doom indie-metal, this one will be a better. The songs are more focused melody-wise and riff-wise, while maintaining their singular devotion to the head-pounding rhythms. There was some strange (as in different) stuff going on as well — a clear shift from their usual straight-four shriek rock — drop-outs and breaks, parts where only Mach and drummer Oakes were playing, insidiously sexy riffs by Massey layered beneath the melee. I assume the separation will be more noticeable on the recording, and hopefully, so will the vocals. Machmuller’s voice was mired in the mix, its anonymity helped along by his own mumbling way of singing that can twist instantly to shrieks when everyone comes in on the chorus. We’ll see. Saddle Creek will be putting out their new record probably early next year.

Little Brazil frontman Landon Hedges has successfully entered the ranks of the “Beard-o’s” — his scraggly facial hair now fully, crazily realized into something that only Gimli the Dwarf would be proud of. I’m sure he was tired of being mistaken for a 14-year-old version of Bobby Brady. Now Landon looks like a less-bald version of AJ Mogis or like a wizened clock maker (or bomb maker) thanks to his tiny eyeglasses that hang on the very tip of his nose. I’ve always fancied LB as an indie-pop band defined by a traditional emo style (yes, I said emo) and Hedges’ boyish croon. Like Ladyfinger, last night they played new material just recorded at ARC for a release on their new label, Anodyne, in February. Also like Ladyfinger, this record will probably be better than the last one, thanks to simpler song structures. Though there’s still a lot of Sturm und Drang, I have a feeling that Son (that’s the new album’s title) will consist mostly of simpler pop songs, pulled together into a concept arc about fatherhood, or so I’m told. We’re going to have to wait for a lyric sheet to find out. Even though Hedges sings more clearly than the majority of Omaha’s harder rocking acts, it all gets lost in the mix, except for a brief moment during one song when the music broke to nothing and Landon speaks the lyrics. But even then, I don’t know what he’s talking about. I can’t wait to find out.

Ladyfinger and Little Brazil make a great pair. Members of both bands are longtime friends, almost like family. If I was a booking agent, I’d figure out a way to get them on the road together — a dynamic double bill consisting of two acts from successful indie labels. You’d think it would be a sure thing.

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After I got home last night I watched a DVR’d rebroadcast of Conor Oberst and the Mystic Valley Band on Late Night with Conan O’Brien (If you missed it, it’s online here). Conor wore his new trademark Panama hat, surrounded by the usual cast of long-hairs. Overall, the appearance was uneventful, other than the fact that whatever song they played isn’t on the new album, a vinyl copy of which O’Brien held up during his rushed introduction. Oberst’s TV appearances are so numerous these days that they’ve become matter-of-fact, no longer gee-whiz events (no one I talked to at the bar last night even knew he was going to be on). It’s these numerous appearances that probably will keep him off Saturday Night Live. I’ve been told that SNL has an exclusivity arrangement with their “special musical guests.” I don’t know if I believe that, but I do know that they strive to present something unique. Looks like my annual SNL predictions will never come true…

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I don’t know who Lori Wirth is but she sure has a lot of talented friends. Wirth suffers from cystic fibrosis and needs a lung transplant. Proceeds from tonight’s show at The Waiting Room — featuring Ladyfinger, Little Brazil, It’s True and Kyle Harvey — will help pay for the surgery. Great show, great cause. $7, 9 p.m.

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Matt Cox has managed to pull together a solid following for his acoustic singer/songwriter balladry. About 20 of those followers showed up Friday night at The Barley Street Tavern where Cox was backed by a full band — bass, drums, electric guitar. This was the first time I’ve seen him with or without a band. Cox has a bluesy style and a voice that reminded me of Eric Clapton’s Unplugged album — laidback and tuneful. The band sounded like it’s played together for years, with guitarist Ben Zinn adding gritty slide licks that made everything sound that much bluesier.

Seems like The Barley Street is trying to fill a void that’s opening with O’Leaver’s doing fewer and fewer shows (There are only three O’Leaver’s dates in November, according to their myspace page). Both rooms have a similar capacity and PA set-up. The difference lies in what they book — O’Leaver’s has always had an indie / garage / rock history, while BST seems to focus on acoustic singer/songwriters in the Kyle Harvey / Brad Hoshaw vein. I like going to both clubs for the same reasons — the relaxed vibe. Plus, it’s cheap.

Last night Between the Leaves played for around 30 people at an early show (8 p.m.) on Slowdown’s small stage. BTL consists of vocalist Stephen Sheehan (ex-Digital Sex), guitarist Richard Schultz, and the newest leaf, noisemaker Evan Blakley. It’s been a couple years since I’ve seen the original duo on stage. Not a lot has changed. They played a few songs from their debut album as well as covers by Dead Can Dance, Tim Buckley, Jefferson Airplane and Depeche Mode. Blakley’s feedback machine/noise box (I have no idea what it’s called) provided a layer of atmosphere without getting in the way of the music — a nice, needed addition. Schultz’s acoustic guitar (and keyboards) were first rate, and Sheehan’s voice has managed to stand the test of time, sounding as well as it did when I saw him in DS back in the early ’90s. Overall, the set was cast in dark tones and shadows — as if Sheehan was reliving moments best remembered alone and with eyes shut. Instead, here he was surrounded by friends who likely lived these moments alongside him. Not a bad way to spend a Sunday night.

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NYC rockers Earl Greyhound returns for an under-the-radar show tonight at Sokol Underground with Wasilla band Portugal. The Man and Halifax band Wintersleep. $12, 9 p.m.

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There’s a feature story on Conor Oberst in Filter (here). I mention this only because this is the first detailed story with Oberst since his solo record came out earlier this year. He talks about all the usual stuff, UFOs, Mexico, the new album, but also mentions Britney Spears, Omaha and again reiterates that there has been no falling out with Saddle Creek. I’ve never read the printed version of Filter. Actually, I’ve never even seen a copy. I might try to find one this weekend. I’ve had a subscription to Rolling Stone for eons, and have put up its shift to celeb-gossip just because it’s Rolling Stone. But I can’t put up with its recent print-format change from its classic slightly oversized print edition to a new standard-size slick format. If I wanted to read Us magazine I’d buy Us magazine. So I’m searching for a replacement. Maybe it’ll be Filter…

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Speaking of rumors… I’m hearing that there’s a new music venue being put together — down in the Mutual area — by a guy with a history of opening successful restaurants. More to come when I find out more…

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All right, let’s look at the weekend music calendar…

Friday night (tonight!)

Danielson is at The Waiting Room with Cryptacize — both bands are affiliated with Sufjan Stevens (Sufjan apparently was once part of Danielson). Opening is our very own Talkin’ Mountain. $10, 9 p.m.

Meanwhile, down at Slowdown Jr., it’s the return of Capgun Coup with Boo and Boo Too, and Perry H. Yuppies (they explain it here). $7, 9 p.m.

Over at The Saddle Creek Bar, it’s Chicago folk/bluegrass/rock band Haywood Yards with Lincoln acts Tsumi and Son of 76. $5, 9 p.m.

And finally, over at The Barley Street Tavern, it’s The Matt Cox Band. $4, 9 p.m.

Saturday night

The Diplomats of Solid Sound — including The Diplomettes — will be playing at The Waiting Room with Satchel Grande and The Third Men. Expect a flat-out party. $7, 9 p.m.

Also, Scott Severin’s band is playing at The Barley Street with Western Electric. $4, 9 p.m.

Sunday night

Stephen Sheehan (ex-Digital Sex) has rejoined with Richard Schultz as Between the Leaves, a project that self-released a collection of songs earlier this decade. Joining them for the reunion Sunday night at Slowdown Jr. is filmmaker Evan Blakley. BTL plays at 8 p.m., opening for Kansas City accordion combo Alacartoona and Schultz’s other band, the Miracle Men. $5, 8 p.m.

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The rumors of Niz’s departure from the music section of the Omaha World-Herald actually began at least six months ago. I flat out asked her about her status back then, and she denied that a change was imminent. And then a few months ago, I started hearing about people “from the outside” applying for her job. It seems none of them passed muster. I don’t know anything about Kevin Coffey except that publisher John Heaston told me Coffey did a brief internship at the Reader and used to edit The Creightonian (He graduated from Creighton in 2006). He got his start at the World-Herald in ’06 working on their online media. And now he assumes the position of Music Reporter. Will we be seeing him at shows (other than those at The Qwest)?

Column 197: Chasing Ghosts
A changing of the guard at the OWH.

I heard from a friend of a friend that Niz Proskocil has left the music beat at the Omaha World-Herald.

I couldn’t get an actual, dyed-in-the-wool confirmation from Niz because she had to run it past her editors, and after almost a week, still nothing. These kinds of staff changes aren’t reported by the paper unless the position in question is editor-in-chief or a rung beneath it. Changes in lower-rung jobs, like beat reporters, are treated as gossip. It’s the kind of inside poop that the editors figure no one would — or should — care about. They’re wrong, of course. The politicians and businessmen who are studied and dissected by these journalists obviously care. As for the rest of their readers, well, unless it involves the Huskers, does it matter who’s writing the stories? Not really. Other than the name on the masthead, news is anonymous. Readers remember the headline, not the byline. An exception to the rule is columnists and critics, who are defined by their unique style and opinion. But that guy covering City Hall or the western Iowa education beat — he’s a ghost.

The music beat must be a thankless job at dailies, looked down upon by the reporters doing “the important stuff,” whatever that is. The type of reader who wants to know about this weekend’s CD release shows probably doesn’t read the World-Herald. The editors know this and act accordingly, which is one of the reasons why we only get the weekend edition at my house.

There are those among us, however, who have followed the World-Herald‘s music criticism for a long, long time. For me, it started with Steve Millburg, who mainly wrote about movies. He was a critic during — or just after — the downfall of Peter Citron, a guy remembered more for charges involving child porn than for his years and years of writing restaurant and movie criticism, something Citron did well, though no one will ever admit it. I guess it doesn’t matter anymore, now that he’s dead.

Millburg held a place of prominence in the long-defunct World-Herald Sunday Entertainment section — a smart, self-contained weekly guide that included movie, music, book and art reviews, travel information, a TV guide and a crossword puzzle. Later in the week, long after the rest of the Sunday paper had been thrown away, the Entertainment section remained on the coffee table. Whether it was economics (maybe) or just a bad decision (probably), the World-Herald did away with the Entertainment section years ago, integrating some of its contents into the rest of the Sunday paper, while placing the weekend listings and band features in Thursday’s wispy Go! section.

So while my dad painstakingly studied the want ads and mom read the Living section (the sports section went unread), I grabbed Entertainment from the Sunday stack. Millburg usually had a column and a page of capsule reviews. Sometimes he wrote about music too, but that was rare. Though the rest of the OWH was a blank recitation of facts, Millburg wrote with a voice. Along with Citron’s, it was the first voice I ever read in a newspaper. It would be a voice that would be in the back of my mind throughout college.

A quick Google search reveals that Millburg is now living in Birmingham, Alabama, writing novels and doing the occasional freelance assignment.

After Millburg was Roger Catlin, a younger guy with plenty of attitude who wrote about bands like Elvis Costello and The Cucumbers. Roger didn’t last long at the Herald. Today he writes a television column for the Hartford Courant.

Next in the barrel were Jim Minge and Tony Moton — the first OWH reporters that I remember seeing at rock shows. Moton left the World-Herald in ’99 and went on to write screen plays. Minge, as we all know, now runs the City Weekly.

They were followed by Christine Laue. Though Minge and Moton tried to cover local music, it was Laue who really made it a focus and a cornerstone of the just-created Go! section back in ’01. Niz took over after Laue was moved to the fashion and pop culture beat. Today, Laue writes about condos and shopping centers.

Niz continued to cover local music even after the World-Herald pointed her squarely in the direction of the Qwest Center and its county-fair touring bands — which are, after all, what the editors assume the majority of their readers care about. They’re probably right, even though the real story — the one that defines Omaha nationally as an indie music Mecca — is taking place in small bars and local venues where tomorrow’s stars are honing their craft.

A couple weeks ago, the rumors about Niz became reality, as her byline disappeared from Go! and reappeared in the Money section. Her replacement appears to be Kevin Coffey.

There is significance to this changing of the guard. As a musician once told me after an interview — it’s nice to get featured in the alt weeklies, but to be in The Omaha World-Herald, well, “my parents read the World-Herald.” It’s a “big deal.” So while that musician will use my Reader story for packaging material, the World-Herald story will be cut out and framed; it will be read 20 years from now by his children.

Whether he knows it or his fellow reporters know or his editors and publisher know it, Coffey has one of the most important jobs at the World-Herald, at least in the minds of the army of musicians, club owners, record shop proprietors and everyone else who makes a living in this town from music. All eyes are on you, Kevin. Let’s see what you’ve got. Don’t let them turn you into a ghost.

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XYZ Affair tonight at The Waiting Room. I really dug their recordings. Their live set? Well, when they came through here in February, it was somewhat disappointing. Here’s my review of that show:

Finally, the headliners, XYZ Affair, a four-piece that brought more than its share of hubris to the stage. As one guy said to me, this is what Weezer would sound like if they were a bunch of jocks. I didn’t dislike them quite that much. I mean, who can dislike a band that starts its set with an a cappella version of the intro to Prince’s “7”? Frontman Alex Feder doesn’t really sound like Death Cab’s Ben Gibbard as much as John Darnielle backed by a bar band. Flamboyant, yes, and with plenty of falsetto. Not bad, not terribly memorable. I have no doubt that their common-man pop sense will some day land this unsigned band on a major label.

I wonder if they’ve down-scaled their cheesiness over the past year. We’ll find out tonight. Opening the show is Omaha/Des Moines/Omaha transplant Adam Haug. $7, 9 p.m

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The hot question of the day: Should I vote now or wait until after work? Will there be lines at the polls? Just how much of a pain in the ass is this going to be? You’d think with so many people pre-voting that the lines wouldn’t be that long. Right.

I’m waiting until after work. Maybe I should bring a change of clothes, eh…

So obsessed am I with this election that I’m considering not going to Slowdown tonight for Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks. I want to watch the returns as they happen. But just now I received an e-mail from Jason Kulbel at Slowdown saying that there will, in fact, be a big-screen television in the bar tuned to the election results. I wonder if it’ll be running during Malkmus’ set. Opening is Blitzen Trapper. $15. Doors are at 7, the rock show starts at 9.

Get ready to watch history being made.

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So, I stayed home on Halloween.

Thankfully all the costumes were gone by Saturday night, at least at O’Leaver’s where the walking wounded told turgid tales of their night-befores involving fake blood, make-up and booze. The mood was definitely low key.

Adam Hawkins’ new band, It’s True, opened the show right after the close of The Husker game. Hawkins sounded nice even in O’Leaver’s. He and his band played a short set (6 or 7 songs?) of laid-back indie folk rock that was pretty and, at times, lush in a Tears for Fears sort of way. Someone told me afterward that they’d make a nice prom band — sure enough, one couple slow danced during their set.

Among the world’s injustices is that Coyote Bones never gained traction locally or nationally. Gentleman on the Rocks was one of ’07s best local releases, which I was reminded of during their set. CB is the closest thing Omaha will ever get to a band as tunefully dynamic as Spoon. Matysiak was one of the city’s better songwriters. And now he’s gone, headed somewhere else to try again. I have no doubt that Coyote Bones will continue in some form, just not around here. Perhaps it was the nostalgia, but it was one of their better sets and included a handful of new songs that I’d like to hear recorded. In what is a rarity for O’Leaver’s, the band was “called back” (though they never really left) to do a two-song encore that included the best song of the evening and featured solos from each member of the band. Matysiak will be sorely missed, not only for Coyote Bones but for all the work he’s done for the local music community including his co-op label Coco Art and his Telephono project, which brought musicians together and helped spark new ideas. Ah, David, we hardly knew ye…

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Tonight at The Slowdown Sub Pop band Wolf Parade takes the stage with fellow touring act Listening Party. I like Wolf Parade (they remind me of Eagle*Seagull, or Eagle*Seagull reminds me of them) though I haven’t been following the band for the past couple of years. Expect a nice crowd. $17, 9 p.m.

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