Catching up on some assorted old news from the web on a sleepy Wednesday…

— Looks like Crooked Fingers frontman Eric Bachmann will have his next solo album, To the Races, released on Saddle Creek Records Aug 22, according to this item at aversion.com. This is a great add to the Creek roster — i.e., I dig Bachmann’s Crooked Fingers records.

— Also, on Aug. 22, Cursive will release their next full-length, Happy Hollow. Punknews.org has the track list here, while, Cursive’s summer tour dates just went up on CMJ here, including an Aug. 4 Lollapalooza gig in Grant Park, Chicago.

— My annual predictions article just seems to get more and more on target. Remember I said that this was the year Bright Eyes a.k.a. Conor Oberst would appear on Saturday Night Live? Well, apparently it happened last Saturday night… sort of. According to tvsquad.com (because who else stays home and watches SNL these days?), host Kevin Spacey did a skit toward the end of the program where he dressed up as Neil Young promoting his new album I Do Not Agree With Many Of This Administration’s Policies. Among those helping out with the performance, Adam Samberg (famous for the “Lazy Sunday” vid) dressed up as and introduced as Conor Oberst. If anyone sees this online somewhere, pass on the link, I’d love to see it.

— Personal critic/writing guru Robert Christgau has a new Consumer Guide entry at the Village Voice (here) He loves the new one by The Streets and gives the new Springsteen album the “dud of the month” award.

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I turn to the soundguy three or four minutes into The Terminals set at O’Leaver’s last night and tell him I can’t hear the guitar at all. It’s somewhat overpowered, he replies, by the keyboards, which have to pull double-duty as both keyboards and bass. It’s the first time I’ve heard The Terminals since John Ziegler left the band a year or so ago. As a trio, they’ve lived on with Dave Goldberg playing the role of the band’s energizer bunny, while Liz and Brooks Hitt provide the necessary punk moxy. While those two are married in real life, it’s Dave and Liz who are the Fred and Ethel of the combo, playing off each other like bickering teen parents in a kitschy ’50s B-movie. Make that ’50s horror B-movie, as that also sums up their sound, which has evolved from a trash ’60s garage band a la Them and Pretty Things a year ago to something more closely resembling The Cramps, propelled early in the set by Goldberg’s carnival-ride organ, the same one you remember from his Carsinogents days. Goldberg has been on the leading tip of the area’s psychobilly revival sound since his days in Full Blown, and if anything, that revival is picking up steam, judging by the popularity of this band and Brimstone Howl, who played after them.

Goldberg’s organ pulled back and the guitars came forward as the set wore on, and garage punk ensued — less retro, more angry. I like Liz Hitt’s guitar solos almost as much as I like her girl-next-door-on-the-verge-of-a-homicide vocals. She didn’t look like she was having fun until she switched to keyboards (and once, to drums), her face turning heat-seeker red while pounding on that organ, while cross stage Goldberg was making his guitar bark. There was one song (I don’t know its name) where the two trade lines back and forth and it was the best moment of the evening.

Brimstone was up next, but I had to head home (some of us have to work at the crack of dawn). Opening last night was a trio called The Shanks playing quick, punchy borderline hardcore songs. Lots of yelling. A couple “Oy’s” here and there. Remarkably sloppy. Was this their first gig, I asked the promoter. Maybe, probably, he said. You never know where these things will go. They could wind up being the next Nirvana. “Now you can say you saw The Shanks first show,” I said to the guy across the table. “Yeah,” he said, “and maybe their last.”

* * *

Tonight is a mammoth show down at Sokol Underground — Minus the Bear, Criteria, Russian Circles and The Lovekill. Minus the Bear is touring in support of Menos el Oso, the best record of their storied career. Criteria plays a home gig after months of touring the U.S. Welcome them back. Russian Circles’ 6-song Flameshovel debut clocks in at over 43 minutes — long, droning songs that build, you know the routine. Cleveland’s The Lovekill play jangular punk. 9 p.m., $12.

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Time only for some brief comments about last night’s packed show at O’Leaver’s. And it was packed. I was pushed to a far-off table and could barely see what was going on on stage. That said, I could hear just fine, and the highlight of the evening was opening band Now, Archimedes! Fronted by Bob Thornton, who also fronts Past Punchy, N,A! is a trio that includes former members of Fischer, Solid Jackson and Raymond Nothing. Their style is pure mid-’90s buzzsaw punk that reminded me of Thornton’s old band Culture Fire. Raw, frenzied, with great-big-ol’ riffs and lots of yelling, it’s something that’s been missing from the scene for too long. As the guy who was standing next to me put it, they sounded like every band that ever played at The Cog Factory. Past Punchy and The Present sounded like the lighter, more rural side of Omaha’s mid-’90s scene — sort of a Neil Young version of Frontier Trust. The capacity crowd ate it up, and I dug it to, but I would have liked to have heard more Archimedes…

Another solid night of punk at O’Leaver’s tonight with The Terminals, Brimstone Howl and Rat Traps. $5, 9 p.m. Be there.

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Glancing at the calendar, not a good time to be sick as a dog (though my cold appears to be subsiding) . Strange weekend of shows. Let’s take a look:

Tonight, maybe the strangest gig of all: Cloud Cult at O’Leaver’s. It’s the Minneapolis band’s so-called “Eco-Friendly” Tour. These six hippies travel around in a solar-powered van playing indie rock that’s been compared to Modest Mouse. Instrumentation includes cello, drums, bass, random electronics, keyboard and guitar. With them on stage (according to their one-sheet) will be live painters and back-screen video projection (better start tearing a hole in the back of the stage, Sean). How all this stuff will fit inside O’Leaver’s, no one can say. Maybe the painters can do their thing down in the basement? I’ve been told by someone at the bar that they’ve been informed that “a busload of people will be arriving to attend the show.” This has all the makings of a classic episode of my new hit half-hour sitcom about the Omaha scene that I should be writing for HBO. Opening is The Amateurs. $5, 9:30 p.m.

Your best bet may be to head to Mike’s in CB and see Members of the Press with Bullets for Baby and LouderThanLove, all for only $3. MotP is Randy Cotton’s band, and is the last bastion of angst/noise/punk left over from the old Ritual Device days now that Saklar is playing pretty guitar solos and Moss is missing in action somewhere in a cloud of San Francisco stoner rock. 162 W. Broadway.

Tomorrow (Saturday): Bloodcow and Life After Laserdisque at O’Leaver’s — talk about a strange combination, but LAL prides itself on playing with any style of music (remember that hip-hop show just a few weeks ago?). $5, 9 p.m.

And lest we forget, The Third Men and Pendrakes are playing at the The 49’r Saturday night as well.

That brings us to Sunday, and the return of Past Punchy and the Presents at O’Leaver’s along with Le Beat and possibly a surprise third band. Mr. Thornton ain’t saying exactly what he has up his sleeve, but it could get interesting. This will be the last time that Omahans will be hearing from Past Punchy’s Alex McManus for awhile as he heads out of town on travels that I’m told includes some touring with one of his many former bands. $5, 9 p.m.

And as extra credit, I want to give an early shout-out to a show next Monday at O’Leaver’s (jeeze, you’d think I work there or something). The Omaha/Lincoln band The Terminals featuring the legendary Dave Goldberg takes the stage along with The Rat Traps. This show could make me painfully late for work on Tuesday.

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Column 77 — The Last Double Standard
Are women vocalists judged differently then men?

I credit Omaha’s hardest working bassist and walking rock music encyclopedia Mike Tulis (The Monroes, Simon Joyner and the Wind-up Birds, The Third Men) for this installment’s theme. It was his wisdom that inspired it.

Here’s what happened: We were standing side-by-side in the back of O’Leaver’s listening to a rock band — Tulis in one of his stylish hats drinking an old-school tallboy. Classic.

On came the next band, which happened to feature a female vocalist. About halfway through the first verse, I noticed a slight shift in her voice. In the height of passion, she pushed it a bit too far in one direction, causing it to careen slightly off key. I turned to Tulis and yelled (because people don’t talk at rock shows — they scream at each other) “What do you think of her voice?”

Tulis just looked at me with his flat, knowing Tulis stare — dead eyes behind his glasses. “I’m not going there,” he yelled. “It’s one of the last remaining double-standards in rock — if a guy sings off-key, everyone thinks he rocks, but if a woman’s voice is less than perfect, she sucks.”

And like rays of light breaking through afternoon clouds, Tulis’ words opened my mind. Think of all the lousy male singers you’ve seen on stage — cocky, lazy, strutting around with their swooped haircuts and ironic retro clothing — whose voices carelessly fell off pitch, twisting back and forth like a drunken businessman headed back to work after a three-martini lunch. You cringe with every off-kilter note, but ask the crowd what they thought after the set and you’ll hear things like “Genius!” or “Man, he rocked!“

But if it’s a woman, and her voice wavers oh-so-slightly, the result is rolled eyeballs. “Man, did you hear that? Where’d she learn to sing?” You’ve done it. Admit it.

So are women performers aware of this double-standard? I asked around, starting with Sarah Benck, perhaps our scene’s most well-known female vocalist. Benck, whose forte is cranking out soulful, strutting Bonnie Raitt-style R&B, has a confident voice that never wavers. Though she says she’s never had to deal with any “discrimination,” she knows she’s being judged on stage. “Springsteen, Jagger, those guys are on the top in the industry. They don’t have fantastic voices. It’s all about rocking out,” Benck said. “I can only think of one female vocalist, Patti Smith, whose voice is an acquired taste. From the get go, it wasn’t about what she looked like and sounded like, it was always about what she had to say. Her imperfection was part of her expression.”

But Patti was the only example that Benck could come up with of a successful woman vocalist with less than stellar chops. The only one that I could think of was Chrissie Hynde of The Pretenders. Her voice — not pretty, and come to think of it, neither is she. The vocal double-standard is a social model, Benck said, that carries over from how people judge appearance. Erica Hanton, who sings in both Kite Pilot and The Protoculture, said the double-standard comes from an industry that markets women differently than men.

“You know, how, supposedly, ‘ugly’ men are considered distinctive or unique,” Hanton said. “You don’t see many women who are outside the ‘standard beauty’ who get that kind of treatment. So if a woman’s voice is not a standard, nice-on-the-ears pretty, familiar-sounding voice, it’s not acceptable. Imperfection in a guy’s vocals gives it character. Imperfection in a female’s vocals makes people uncomfortable.”

Society, Hanton added, is all about correcting female imperfections.

But what about the woman who was singing the night of Tulis’ epiphany? The vocalist was Megan Morgan of Landing on the Moon, a local indie rock band that throws a wrench into their sound with salty, John Steinman-esque rock ballads. Morgan knows a thing or two about singing — she’s the choral director at Bryan Middle School. She says if she’s off-key during her set it’s because she’s lost in the moment. It’s never intentional. That’s not the case with a lot of stylish male vocalists she’s heard warble over the years.

“I don’t like it when guys try to sing like that,” she said about their forced nonchalant approach. “Some guys sound that way on purpose. It’s supposed to be artistic. They’re supposed to be filled with so much emotion and angst. It sounds fake to me.”

It’s always been forgivable for guys to sing sloppy, Morgan said. Not so for women. “Women aren’t supposed to have that I-don’t-care attitude,” she said. “When a woman is on stage, people pay attention. I always try to make it sound as pleasing as possible. But when you’re into it, you become part of the music. Where it goes is where it takes you. Hopefully the audience is coming along with you.”

What’s my point? Don’t judge the voice; listen to what the voice is trying to convey in all its blemished honesty. It took Tulis to shake me from my daze and really listen to what Megan was singing instead of mentally comparing her to whatever ignorant stereotype society has dictated that a woman vocalist should be. Once I was really paying attention, it changed everything — about her band, about her performance. I heard a woman belting it out on stage, holding nothing back, lost in her music and lyrics. And just like that, I got lost, too.

Sorry for the lack of update yesterday. Things are just getting back to normal with Lazy-i’s server. The archived Blogger entries are now available again. And just as the weather finally becomes spring-like, I come down with a chest cold. Life sucks!

Anyway, according to the One Percent Productions website, the line-up for the June 17 Memorial Park Bright Eyes Concert appears to be in place. The openers are Welshman Gruff Rhys of Super Furry Animals — apparently a friend of Oberst’s — and Neva Dinova, who recently signed to Saddle Creek Records. This came as something of a surprise as some of the organizers had said they didn’t want the concert to be a “Saddle Creek showcase.” A number of non-Creek Omaha bands had been rumored to be in contention for the opening slots. In the end, the decision was likely Oberst’s and Oberst’s alone. Certainly Mayor Mike Fahey isn’t a fan of Rhys’ 2005 solo debut Yr Atal Genhedlaeth. In fact, no one around here has even heard it before, except Oberst. Regardless, just imagine the crowd singing along to “Rhagluniaeth Ysgafn” or “Y Gwybodusion” or the infectious “Chwarae’n Troi’n Chwerw.” Does it get any better than that?

Then there’s Neva Dinova, a band that to this day would be hard-pressed to sell out Sokol Underground. Ah, but they’re on Creek now, certainly that’ll make the difference to the thousands of Omahans who are on the fence deciding whether or not they should go to the free show. Fact is — and Oberst and the organizers know this — it never mattered who opened the concert since anyone who shows up will be there to see Bright Eyes anyway. If you’re Oberst and Creek, why not put your most recent signing on the bill? And though Rhys debut was released on a subsidiary of Rough Trade, I wouldn’t be surprised if his next one comes out on Oberst’s Team Love label. Industrious? You bet.

Now go back and read my Acid Test in the Park column and think about how many people will show up for the concert. Better yet, ask yourself how many Omahans will be there, because certainly the biggest draw now will come from rabid Bright Eyes fans from around the country who will be making a pilgrimage to see their beloved savior at his only non-festival appearance this year in the United States. It’s only one month away…

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Amazing how far you can get behind in just a few days. The site is still not fully “there.” Some pages still look askew. This will be fixed shortly. Also, there’s a good chance that this update will disappear if the host service replaces the current version of the site with a backup. Your patience is appreciated.

First, The Lincoln Journal Star published a piece about “Omaha’s booming music scene” late last week that included some quotes from me. You can read it here. My only comment is that I never called Mercy Rule “Mercy Kills” — but you know that already. It’s a long read. I wish the author would have interviewed an Omaha musician for the article (Mike Fratt is in a band, but he’s representing Homer’s in this story and his role in Goodbye Sunday wasn’t explained). The central theme of the story was supposed to be “Is Omaha the next Seattle?” I was asked the question along with everyone else, and my answer was “no.” There is no band from Omaha that has made a national impact in the way Nirvana, Pearl Jam or Soundgarden did. Omaha is what it is, which is all it needs to be.

Saturday night’s Gomez concert was a nice surprise. I’m not a big fan of the band’s middle-of-the-road made-for-VH1 style music, but I have to admit they sounded rather huge on stage, and the crowd (of about 250?) was going crazy for them. If you went to the front, you got the feeling that you were at an arena show except for the line of beer bottles that littered the edge of the stage. Plus, they played for almost two hours, just like a real rock concert. There was only one time during their set that I felt I was listening to a British band — when they ripped into a throbbing, psychedelic number that had shades of ’90s Manchester showing through the usual plastic exterior. I wanted more of that, but didn’t get it.

Tonight, the wonky keyboard-driven spectacle that is Islands. Their music is fun-pop indie sunshine as light as a feather. Opening is Busdriver and Cadence Weapon (what, no local band?). 9 p.m., $8.

–Got comments? Post ’em here.—

We’ll our server crashed on Friday which is why Lazy-i has been off the Interweb all weekend. It’s back now, but there’s still plenty of weirdness. Hopefully it’ll be fully functional tomorrow. Look for an update with a Gomez review then. Thanks for your patience…

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Column 76: Everything Old is Old Again
Retro rock is more than a feeling…

Have you listened to the radio lately?

It’s changed, sort of. Actually, it hasn’t changed. And maybe that’s the problem. Or maybe it isn’t a problem at all.

Look. I was buzzing through the dial the other day, CD-less and i-Podless in my little car, trying to find something/anything to listen to. Something new. Something exciting. Something that could CHANGE MY LIFE.

Here’s what I found: On one station Joe Walsh was singing about being an ordinary, average guy. On another station, Dennis DeYoung was boasting about being a blue collar man. On yet another station, Bono was crooning about the assassination of MLK. And on a fourth, Steve Miller was flying like an eagle — by now, an arthritic eagle with a growing prostate problem.

Radio has grown up, but at the same time, it never grew old. Not in a conventional sense. I turn on the radio now and I can still hear the same songs I heard in the basement of our family’s house on Hartman Ave., down in my big brothers’ bedrooms where the only stations played on our vintage Panasonic stereo were of the FM variety — Z-92, Rock 100 and KQ98. The hot song: “More Than a Feeling” by Boston. Brad Delp warbling incomprehensible lyrics above a wall of Tom Scholz’ studio-spawned, multi-layered guitar. It was 1976 and the only thing cooler than that song was the album cover that contained it.

Thirty freakin’ years later and you can still hear “More Than a Feeling” today — right now — somewhere on the FM dial.

I’ve heard it called “retro programming.” The experts say these radio stations — these electronic museums of an arena-rock past — are laser-targeting women in their 30s and 40s, the golden geese of leisure-suited radio admen because everyone knows 30-ish women are the leaders of this disposable-income-powered America. I have been told this by people “in the know.” But I don’t believe it. The appeal of retro programming goes beyond a specific demographic.

Seems like the only Omaha station playing new rock music these days is 89.7 The River, but even then, the programming is dominated by monster-voiced power-metal goon-rock bands that couldn’t find a melody if it snuck up and bit them on their powerchord. Yes, there are a couple hip-hop stations out there, too, along with car-sick inducing C&W stations. But where can I hear the new rock songs that will define the ’00 generation?

You have to remember, the first time I heard Styx, Foreigner and The Steve Miller Band, they were brand new! Z-92 was a new music station that prided itself on playing the hottest new arena rock music. They certainly didn’t play songs that were 30 years old. Not once did Otis 12 and Diver Dan throw on a Nat King Cole or Dinah Shore platter from 1946. Yet, 30-year-old music is now a staple on the Z, along with a half-dozen other local radio stations, and kids can’t get enough of it.

Again, where are the new rock “classics” that radio, in whatever form it takes, will be playing on retro stations in 2036? What songs from today will be used in hovercar commercials the way Led Zeppelin and Bob Seger are used to hock Cadillacs and Chevy trucks now? When was the last time you heard an “important” new rock song on commercial radio, one that will still be played in rotation 30 years from now?

Come on. Think.

The fact is, as fuddy-duddy as it sounds, they just don’t write music like that anymore. And they probably never will. Your youth may be defined by the latest angst-rock song by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs or indie ballad by Death Cab for Cutie, but the memory landmark stops with you and the handful of friends you hang out with at the mall. An entire generation will not be defined by The Arcade Fire, Flaming Lips and Belle and Sebastian the way arena-rock bands like Heart, Van Halen and ZZ Top so perfectly represent teen life for an entire nation in the ’70s, the way Jimi, Joni, Janis and The Beatles did a decade before that.

Even the music that defined my college years — The Smiths, Husker Du, The Cure, Depeche Mode — as good as it was, when was the last time you heard “How Soon is Now” on the radio?

But why even mention indie music? American Idol is what this country listens to. Along with hip-hop — the new rock music. That means that this generation will be defined by Eminem, Ghostface Killah, T.I. and Kelly Clarkson. Do you really believe that? I don’t, either.

I’ve got a strange, sick feeling that 30 years from now, as we’re boarding the afternoon space shuttle, as we’re flying in our saucer cars or waiting in line to buy another week’s worth of food cubes, we’ll still be hearing “More than a Feeling” on the Z.

Where did Gomez go?

People who followed the band after their ’98 breakthrough debut, the Mercury Prize winning Bring It On, just assumed that its success was the launching pad for the British band’s rise on the American pop charts. More than once the phrases “on the heels of Oasis” and “the new Beatles” were seen printed in national music rags.

On top of that, the band’s cover of The Beatles’ “Getting Better” became a pseudo-hit when it was used in a Phillips light bulb TV commercial. Some thought it was better than the original, thanks to Tom Gray’s and Ben Ottwell’s gravelly delivery.

The band followed Bring It On with Liquid Sky in ’99 and In Our Gun in ’02, both released on tiny Hut Records, a subsidiary of Virgin. But with every subsequent release, Gomez failed to recapture the hype that surrounded their debut, even though the music was just as clever and catchy. By the time Split the Difference was released in ’04, Hut Records had disintegrated, making it their last release involving Virgin.

“From a recognition standpoint, it’s been an interesting ride,” said Gomez bassist/guitarist Paul Blackburn via cell phone after just arriving in New Orleans, where the band was scheduled to perform as part of the city’s famous Jazz and Heritage Festival that evening. “We started out and got some acclaim with our first album, and after that, we kind of got whacked a bit.”