I think after they count the receipts from last week, Slowdown will have had one of its best week’s ever, what with two sold-out Rilo Kiley shows and nearly (if not actually) sold out shows Friday and Saturday by Tokyo Police Club and Devotchka.

It should be pointed out for those of you who haven’t been to Slowdown for awhile that shows there now start at the stroke of 9 or very shortly thereafter. It would be easy to blame the all-ages ordinance — after all, the parents that signed those consent forms expect their kids to be home at a decent hour, and really, why push the show back an hour (or more) when there’s no one buying drinks? Ah, but that’s a cynic’s point of view. This is really just a long-winded way of saying I showed up at Slowdown Friday night at around 10:45 and missed Criteria’s entire set.

But I did manage to catch all of Tokyo Police Club. Alsop’s comments about the band now traveling with a light show seems quaint considering what they had on stage that night (and considering what Devotchka would boast the following evening). The stage behind the band was decorated with vertical light strips made up of rows of small LEDs that would blink and switch colors during songs, while the band was lit from below by colored strobes that reminded me of early Mercy Rule shows. TPC will look back fondly on that lighting in the years to come.

Musically, their set was as expected, about 50 minutes of well-performed songs from their full length and their debut EP, each song rounding out at under three minutes — short, sharp bursts of energy separated by brief pauses, all of which added up to a sort of fatigue after about 20 minutes of the set. I like Tokyo Police Club and I like their new full length, but their live set seems almost unstructured — there was no ebb and flow, only one high-energy indie rocker after another, with very few people on the crowded floor dancing to the music. After all, aren’t they supposed to be a dance-wave band?

TPC came out for a brief preprogrammed 2-song encore, and that was it, something of a surprise considering the show was the last one of this North American tour.

Seems like Omaha is becoming the stopping off point for tours. Basia Bulat announced that Saturday night’s show was the last one on her and Devotchka’s tour as well. We got there plenty early for this one, early enough to catch the opening set by rustic acoustic duo Born in the Flood. Seated main man Nathaniel Rateliff came off as an older, weathered version of Beck circa Sea Change, providing a world-weary view that matched his earthy yet down-and-out songwriting style.

He was quickly followed by Basia Bulat and her band, who actually were the folks we’d come to see. Devotchka is 2006, while Basia Bulat is 2009 or 2010 — yet to be discovered, on the verge of national stardom. It doesn’t hurt that she’s cute as a button, looking like that 13-year-old uber-talented girl next door that you always see carrying an instrument case on her way to school. She opened with an a cappella number that got the crowd’s attention before hoisting an autoharp for the next few songs, eventually opting for an acoustic guitar. Her voice is very reminiscent of Natalie Merchant (10,000 Maniacs) while her music is Dixie Chicks without the twang or cheese. Backed by a ukulele, viola, cello, bass and her brother on drums, she leans more toward the commercial than indie music realm, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Judging by the crowd reaction, she’s on her way.

Then along came Devotchka. By this time in the evening, we had moved from the pit in front of the stage all the way to the back of the room just to get some air and space. Despite supposedly not being sold out, this show seemed more crowded than the Rilo Kiley show from earlier in the week. Devotchka knows how to put on a stage show, combining striking lights and a small string section to create a festival atmosphere that would seem at home at The Orpheum or Holland. In fact, at times I thought I was watching a Trans-Siberian Orchestra concert. Everyone eats up the ethnic coleslaw that is their music, and in fact it is impressive on first glance, but a little goes a long way. We lasted about 20 minutes before calling it an evening.

Disturbing trend note: I think it should be pointed out by someone that hand-clapping is, well, getting out of hand. I don’t mean clapping after a song, I mean bands that make theatrical efforts to include hand-claps into their music. The Spinto Band, TPC and Basia Bulat all featured a number of songs in their set that started with synchronized hand clapping. There was a time when that was cute and effective. That time is long gone. Spinto and TPC were much more annoying about it; Bulat can get away with it because, well, she’s Bulat and everything she does is cute. But unless you’re Sufjan Stevens, five guys shouldn’t be standing around doing synchronized clapping to get their songs started. The only thing worse: I recently saw Carly Simon perform on one of the late-night chat shows — her shtick: not hand-claps, but synchronized finger snapping. It looked and sounded as gaggy as you might imagine.

* * *

Tally Hall is a major-label (Atlantic Records) product of Ann Arbor, Michigan, a five-piece that flaunts its love for Queen-style harmonies sung over Ben Folds-flavored pop songs. At its best it scratches Guster territory, but only barely. They’re playing Tuesday night at The Waiting Room with De Novo and Carolina Liar. $10, 9 p.m.

–Got comments? Post ’em here.—

When I found out that Team Love was rereleasing Simon Joyner’s The Cowardly Traveller Pays His Toll I knew I had to interview Joyner about the record. It’s been a decade since our last interview. Our talk focused almost solely on the album, and I got so much stuff over that hour on the phone that I knew I would need two columns to get all the best parts in print. So here is part one of my first two-part column. Look for part two next Wednesday.

Column 174: The Traveller Returns
The first in a two-part look at Simon Joyner’s just-reissued seminal recording.

The date was sometime in 1994. Omaha singer songwriter Simon Joyner was opening a show for a band who I’ve long ago forgotten down at the original Howard St. Tavern, the one that was right next to the Old Market Homer’s. Sitting at the table looking up at the stage, I noticed a couple things different straight away. First, behind Joyner — who had always been a solitary performer — was a guy sitting behind a small trap set. Second, the acoustic guitar that had always been strapped around Joyner’s fragile frame had been replaced by one with a chord running from its hind end.

Joyner was about to go electric, and none of us knew what to think. The occasion was the release of his then new vinyl album, The Cowardly Traveller Pays His Toll, a record that would prove to be a departure both for him and for the rest of us who had known Joyner as merely a solo acoustic folk-punk musician. Cowardly Traveller would change all that.

On the occasion of its long-awaited rerelease on Conor Oberst’s Team Love Records — the album’s only re-pressing since its second run sold out more than a decade ago — Joyner talked about how Cowardly Traveller happened, and what it meant to him all those years ago, and today.

But first, let me tell you what it meant to me. Cowardly Traveller was Joyner’s third formal release. Over the prior years, Dave Sink’s One Hour Records had put out two cassette-only releases — Umbilical Chords and Room Temperature. It was the latter that had caught the ear of iconic UK DJ John Peel, who played a song from the cassette on his famous radio show (which was shades of things to come). Those two cassettes were filled with Joyner’s jangling coffee-shop folk, sort of like early Dylan, but edgy with a fractured punk attitude. Joyner’s knack for writing confessional journalistic lyrics carried the day, more so than the songs’ melodies, which suffered from a simplistic sameness from track to track, both in composition and musicianship. One marveled at the lyrics and little else.

Then along came Cowardly Traveller, a completely realized album from side to side, probably the first record I had heard released by an Omaha musician that artistically could hold its own with anything released anywhere. The glare of Joyner’s distorted guitar chords married with Chris Deden’s flat, tribal drumming on opening track “747” was a salvo shot over the bow of anyone who expected another dip of frenetic sidewalk folk. Its cold, hard sonic stare would only be equaled by the album’s final track, “Joy Division,” a song that closed with the distortion pedal firmly pressed to the floor while Joyner caterwauled in his infamous off-key warble, “Papa, everything falls apart.”

Sandwiched between those two songs were 10 more, some of them bracing and electric, others mournful and acoustic, each haunting in its own way. Cowardly Traveller was Joyner’s first masterpiece. It would influence a generation of Omaha songwriters, and earn a place as one of my all-time favorite records.

Joyner, who turns 37 in August, was 22 when he recorded Cowardly Traveller, and was staring down what he thought would be the end of a brief musical career, one that he had never expected. “At the time, I didn’t know what I wanted to do with myself,” he said. “I hadn’t considered becoming a professional musician. Music was what I did as a creative outlet. It was something that was fun before I went on to do something else.”

But before he left music behind, he had one more record left in him. “I was in a bit of a rut both in my personal and professional life,” he recalled. “I felt a little bit restricted in how I had become thought of as this solo acoustic singer songwriter bard of Omaha. I had really expansive musical interests, but up to that point it had been all solo acoustic, which I felt was a proper way of going about beginning a career as a songwriter, just like Bob Dylan, Neil Young, Buckley and Leonard Cohen had.”

And like those artists, Joyner was ready to branch out beyond the solo acoustic realm of those first two cassettes, but there were those around him who felt that solo acoustic was all that he would ever be good for. “There are people who are excited about a certain thing you’ve done, and want you to do it again and again. That’s definitely artistic death.

“(The record) was my own small version of a Dylan-going-electric moment,” Joyner said. “I didn’t know how people would react, but I knew that I definitely wouldn’t be making music much longer if it was all going to be acoustic. I thought (Cowardly Traveller) might be the last thing that I would ever do, and it would have made me happy to end like that. Instead, it turned out to be a springboard that kept me challenging myself.”

Next week: The recording, the musicians, the story behind the songs and the reaction both here and abroad.

* * *

I’ve seen a number of different incarnations of Head of Femur over the years, but my favorite is still when the band played as a trio at Sokol Underground back in 2003. Femur ballooned to around eight musicians when they returned to Sokol a couple years later, opening for Rogue Wave. Last night they whittled that number down to five. But it was as a trio that the band was at its edgiest. Back then, they had a wind-blown, organic freedom that felt hand-made and improvised. Maybe it was just the newness of Femur that was showing through their set. Last night’s ensemble, on the other hand, was the most competent — every musician effortlessly hitting their mark, playing with a matter-of-fact confidence as if they’d been on the road nonstop for the past year. They sounded good, professional, an expert band playing indie prog that at times glowed with an Elvis Costello hangover, thanks to a few of the songs’ intricate, clever lyrics — good songs, but Femur is at its best on the ones with the bigger choruses, simpler hooks and fewer words.

There clearly was a comfort level coming off the stage, probably because the crowd of around 60 or 70 consisted of a lot of family and friends, who frontman Matt Focht acknowledged throughout the evening. They came on rather late, around 11:30 after a jumping set by The Heavenly States, who played somewhat pedestrian indie rock that had enough ummph at times to get a few of the folks in front of the stage dancing. “They don’t have a drummer, they have a cymbal player,” remarked a guy standing next to me. Afterward, of course, it was impossible to ignore how their drummer did seem to have the drum set reversed, playing mainly on the cymbals and using the rest of the set as an accouterment. The result, as you might imagine, was rather bright and brashy. Still, I like the band’s singer, whose voice reminded me Trip Shakespeare’s Matt Wilson, and I liked most of their songs, though their set fell flat a few times.

Playing the role of audience clowns were members of Poison Control Center, who left the stage before I got there. All bands need this kind of crowd fluffers to stand in front of the stage and interact both with the band and the audience, making people feel more at ease and willing to loosen up. All’s they needed was an applause sign…

* * *

Tonight at Slowdown, night two of Rilo Kiley. The line-up is the same as last night, with Nik Freitas and The Spinto Band opening, and also like last night, the show is sold out.

–Got comments? Post ’em here.—

Somehow I’ve managed to miss both instances when Cursive has played music from their upcoming recording live. That’s a first for me. When Happy Hollow was in its incubation stage, Cursive played a rough pre-studio version at O’Leaver’s that was easily the best Cursive concert I’ve seen. So it was with great misgiving that I had to miss last night’s Cursive show at The Waiting Room. I had no choice; I was working on this week’s column – part one of two parts dedicated to Simon Joyner’s Cowardly Traveller Pays His Toll, which was reissued on Team Love earlier this month. Part 1 will be online here tomorrow. Part 2 goes online next week. So, sacrifices had to be made, and it looks like I’ll have to wait to hear those new Cursive songs. Anybody go last night? Let us know how it went, here.

Tonight, two shows worth blowing a deadline for. Over at The Waiting Room it’s the return of Head of Femur, who’s out touring what I consider to be their best album, Great Plains. Opening is touring band The Heavenly States and Iowa City freak-out masters Poison Control Center, who I figured I’d never see on the Waiting Room stage as they were supposedly banned from Sokol Underground by the One Percent guys after a series of equipment abuse episodes. Why would One Percent want them to destroy the equipment at the club that they own? PCC usually plays at O’Leaver’s and always puts on an entertaining, summersault-fueled rock show. $8, 9 p.m.

Meanwhile, downtown at Slowdown, it’s night one of two sold-out nights for Rilo Kiley. Opening is The Spinto Band, and Team Love recording artist Nik Freitas. Like I said, it’s sold out, so don’t even bother going down there if you don’t have a ticket.

–Got comments? Post ’em here.—

A special treat for everyone but us poor folks who work for a living, Cursive is the guest for a live recording of NPR talk show Sound Opinions hosted by Jim DeRogatis and Greg Kot this afternoon (at 3 p.m.) at The Waiting Room. The event will include both interviews and a live performance by Cursive, and best of all, it’s free. You may want to get there right when the doors open at 2:30. For us working folk, Cursive will play a show tonight at TWR with The Stay Awake and Landing on the Moon. Tickets are still available (as of this writing (noon)) for $12. Get them while you can. Show starts at 9.

–Got comments? Post ’em here.—

Across the city, web-connected musicians, bored office deadbeats and the hard-wired unemployed are moaning collectively over the apparent temporary capsizing of Omaha music social hub SLAM Omaha, which has been down since early last night. The site says that it’s suffering from “database problems.” But what does that really mean? Those of you suffering from SLAM withdrawals who are desperate for a place to vent your spleen (about a music-related topic) feel free to post away on the Lazy-i webboard. It’s little solace, I know, but something tells me that SLAM will be back shortly, and better than ever.

Of course tonight’s big show is the Joe “Madder” Kenny tribute concert down at Sokol Underground. As I mentioned yesterday, the showcase features some of the city’s finest punk acts, including The Deformities, The Upsets, The Shanks, Filthy Few, The Filter Kings and Brimstone Howl. Cost is $7, with all money going to the Kenny family. Doors open at 7, bands are at 8. Get down there and rock for a good cause.

–Got comments? Post ’em here.–

Monday’s announcement that The Faint are leaving Saddle Creek ends a two-year saga that, for me, began with this column. I never heard from my trusty “deep throat” source again after that story ran, maybe because things got a little hot (a number of people were asking (nay demanding) to know who s/he was. I, of course, never gave up my source). Today, that old column seems rather harmless, though its aftermath has had a long-term negative impact on my ability to write about a certain band…

Column 173 — Fasciinatiion Street
The Faint finally leave Saddle Creek.

Yesterday afternoon (which as I write this, was Monday) Billboard.com posted a story on its website announcing that The Faint — the band that taught Omaha how to dance — was splitting with its long-time label, Omaha’s own Saddle Creek Records.

The news, which arrived by way of my Google news search tool, caused me to audibly gasp. We all knew it was coming. We had known it for years. Yet, here it was, right in front of my eyes, finally.

The Faint (the article said) is launching its own imprint called “blank.wav,” and its first release will be the band’s fifth album, Fasciinatiion (and no, that isn’t a typo), due out Aug. 5. The story went on to quote sales stats from the band’s past two albums – 2004’s Wet From Birth, 117,000 copies; and 2001’s Danse Macabre, 143,000 units, perhaps implying that the downturn in sales had something to do with the band’s decision to go out on its own.

The Faint’s defection comes only a few weeks after Saddle Creek’s first-born son, Conor Oberst, announced that he was releasing a non-Bright Eyes solo album, but that it also would not be on Saddle Creek. Instead, the record is coming out on leading indie label Merge Records, the home to such acts as The Arcade Fire, Spoon and Oberst’s buddy M. Ward. That news seemed like a body blow to Creek, even though Bright Eyes still seems to be comfortably held in the label’s nurturing arms.

Oberst’s news was a surprise. The Faint’s, well, not so much. It was two years ago last March when the idea of The Faint leaving Saddle Creek was first openly discussed by label chief Robb Nansel in this very column. Back then, the rumor was that The Faint was headed to American Recordings to work with über producer Rick Rubin. Nansel confirmed that Rubin had indeed expressed interest in working with The Faint, but said that no deal had been made with anyone.

“The possibility of a band leaving has always been there,” Nansel said back then. “The bands will ultimately make a well-informed decision about what is in their best interest. We will support their decision regardless of what it is, and hope that all parties are satisfied at the end of the day. Certainly (we) would not be pissed.”

Fellow label executive Jason Kulbel said those comments still apply two years later, as the rumored split becomes a reality. “This announcement does not come as a surprise, and we wish the band continued success,” Kulbel said, confirming that Saddle Creek will have no involvement in the release of Fasciinatiion. “They are still friends and we support their decision to do what they, as a band, feel is best for them.”

Kulbel said the label has been aware of The Faint’s intentions since the release of Wet From Birth. Asked what kind of an impact The Faint leaving would have on Saddle Creek, Kulbel said they “don’t see any immediate impact since we have been aware of the likelihood for years.”

Despite the loss of The Faint and Oberst sniffing around other labels, the future of Saddle Creek as a business entity seems less in question than it did two years ago when the Faint rumor first surfaced. Since then, Saddle Creek has signed a number of acts including Georgie James, Eric Bachmann, Neva Dinova, Art in Manila and most impressive of all, Tokyo Police Club, whose new album, Elephant Shell, has the potential of being the label’s all-time biggest seller.

Two years ago construction hadn’t even begun on Saddle Creek’s Slowdown complex. Now after being open for nearly a year, Slowdown is recognized as Omaha’s premier music venue, recently honored by Esquire Magazine as the “club of the year” (though I’m not sure how that translates to revenue). And in the past few months, the last remaining empty commercial stall in the Slowdown properties — originally earmarked for a restaurant — has been taken by edgy underwear store American Apparel.

The fact is that it’s been four years since The Faint released an album. If Saddle Creek hasn’t become used to not having them around by now, then they never will.

A more interesting question is how the move will impact The Faint. The band never did record an album with Rubin, instead spending the last few years creating their own Enamel studios, where they recorded the 10 tracks that will make up Fasciinatiion. And they’ve never really quit touring, thanks to the strength of their rather limited catalog of music. The Faint could probably continue selling-out large venues for the next few years without releasing anything new, thanks to their reputation for putting on events rather than mere concerts.

And then there’s blank.wav. Time will tell what exactly this “imprint” will be. What’s its distribution model? Will it be an Internet-only venture. And will The Faint be the only band on the blank.wav roster? Maybe it’ll follow the same model as Oberst’s Team Love label, providing an outlet for local artists such as McCarthy Trenching, Flowers Forever, Tilly and the Wall and Simon Joyner to get their music heard by a larger audience. If so, Saddle Creek’s loss will be the Omaha music scene’s gain.

Someone asked what was meant by the word “imprint” rather than “label.” The word “imprint” has been used to identify boutique labels that are connected to major labels. For example, Rilo Kiley’s Brute/Beaute was an imprint under the Warner Bros. umbrella. In the publishing industry, an imprint is a brand name under which a work is published. One single publishing company may have multiple imprints; the different imprints are used by the publisher to market the work to different demographic consumer segments. The Faint’s use of the term “imprint” would imply that blank.wav is part of something larger, maybe the organization that will house The Faint, Enamel studio, blank.wav and other Faint-related business endeavors. Who knows? Maybe the band’s publicist simply is misusing the term.

I was told yesterday that blank.wav will, in fact, be its own independent label and not a so-called “imprint” or subsidiary of a larger label. We’ll see as August rolls around…

* * *

This is an early heads-up about the Joe “Madder” Kenny memorial rock show being held tomorrow night at Sokol Underground. This tribute to one of Omaha’s biggest rock fans and local music supporters showcases the city’s finest punk acts including The Deformities, The Upsets, The Shanks, Filthy Few, The Filter Kings and Brimstone Howl.

Cost is $7, with all money going to the Kenny family. Doors open at 7, bands at 8. See you there.

–Got comments? Post ’em here.—