So this is what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna give em to you. Two tickets to see Of Montreal at Higherground on July 31st, to one lucky person, cause we love our fans and we know our fans love Of Montreal. We’ll be choosing the winner at random from our Facebook Fans, so if you’re a fan, thank you – all you need to do is comment on our facebook wall that you want the tickets to be eligible! – if you’re not a facebook fan you might want to be!

The Winner will be decided early next week!

Muddy Waters has always been my favorite rainy day reading spot in town. The comfort it’s hobbit hole interior and yummy drinks provide sum up a lot of what I like so much about downtown Burlington. You can walk in there off the street any day and feel immediately like you belong. I had been aware of their live music experiment for some time, but never none of the acts had peaked my interest until I saw the bill for the Burlington return of the keyboard and drums duo Slingshot Dakota. I had caught them this past summer at The Monkey Bar and was blown away by their infectious positivity and songs about the importance of take care of those around you. This time, they were set to be playing with the locals Spirit Animal (members of In Memory of Pluto) and Plattsburgh’s Yo! Adrian.

As the chilly drizzle persisted outside, I settled myself into a booth with a pot of tea and my companions to kick back and enjoy the music. The Muddy’s folks had cleared out the sunken area near the window to serve as the stage. There was room to stand in front of the band in the lower level, while those in the back had the comfort of a raised level so they could still see. No only did this work out efficiently, but performing in front of a Main St. window proved to provide an unexpected extra element of entertainment.

Yo! Adrian brought the same fun as the last time they opened for Slingshot, and Spirit Animal gave us more of that Don Cabellero meets American Football that those Jandl brothers deliver so well.

As Carly, the keyboardist of Slingshot Dakota, waited for her partner on drums to set up his kit, she started playing theme songs for each group of people to pass by the window, hoping that they would stop and listen. Everyone walking down Main Street in Burlington seemed to be well amused by this game. As I remember, the most people  stopped while Carly played the windmill theme from Super Mario 64. But despite the recognizable ditties Carly warmed up with, it was Slingshot’s original songs that drew the biggest crowds to the window. They blasted through their set with such joy and energy, that they turned everyone’s rainy day frown upside down, even the fire marshall’s! Their debut album “Their Dreams are Dead But Ours is the Golden Ghost” was out last time they were in town, so there were a healthy number of sing-alongs this time around. The infamous cover of Fugazi’s “In the Waiting Room” was requested at the peak of the fervor to everyone’s delight. Throughout this spectacle, our fishbowl was tapped on, stared through blankly, waved at, and breathed upon.

It would be easy to brush Slingshot Dakota off because of the seemingly similar aesthetic of that other keys and drums pair Mates of State, but Slingshot hits a couple of my sweet spots that the Mates miss. One of these spots is musicians with a humble devotion to a message. Their songs are about sharing some serious friend love. Before playing one of their new tracks, entitled “Micheal Jordan Saved My Life,” the pair always take a moment to talk about the importance of being supportive of friends that have been subjected to sex crimes, and dedicate it to one of their pals. Plus, everything about these two is absolutely adorable and infectiously cute in a not even slightly nauseating way, and that’s rare to come by. Carly promised they’d be back in the next year, so don’t miss it.

This past weekend, I had the pleasure of riding down to Allston for a day of adventure and an evening of melancholy acoustic sets. The primary objective and cause for our trek was to catch the charming Mike Kinsella, performing as Owen on tour for his latest album New Leaves. My companions and I had seen Owen around this time last year at one of my favorite New England venues, The Middle East Upstairs. Not only am I a sucker for any remnant of the 90′s Midwestern music scene, Kinsella’s nonchalant manner and witty banter were enough to make the chance of seeing him again irresistible. To make my Sunday all the better, my roommate and sad girl songstress Jess McDermott (www.myspace.com/thenewandverywelcome) scheduled an acoustic appearance before the show in an Allston basement around the block from our destined venue, Great Scott.

And so, after a day of vegan restaurant sampling, romping around the greater Boston area during Harvard’s Octoberfest, and briefly playing audience to a basement stage of fine young minds with guitars, it was time to walk over to Great Scott to hear what Owen had in store for us this year. We showed up towards the end of the Finnish opening band Rubik’s set. They struck me as a Nordic version of The Format with a horn section and a bit of multitasking between floor toms and keyboards. The singer actually bore a striking resemblance to The Format front man, down to his hand claps and swagger.

Rubik’s rowdiness was fitting for the mixed climate of quiet music fans and bar goers alike, but by the time they exited the stage it was becoming apparent that even on a Sunday, a bar in Boston is a bold venue for the nature of the next two acts on the bill. I was becoming a bit nervous over how The One AM Radio would fare over the chatter in the back. The project composer Hrishikesh Hirway and his accompanying trio set up their minimal equipment up quickly, and were sitting behind their respective accordion, guitars and computer in no time. They twinkled through a beautiful set,  harmonies only slightly marred by the mob at the bar. I was especially impressed by clean and catchy folk influence of the songs they offered off their latest release “Here Anonymous.”

After a brief pause, Mike Kinsella took the stage, posing his characteristic question, “is there anything you want to talk about tonight?” The response was sheepish, so he dove humbly into the title track from New Leaves. The next time he posed the question of what to talk about though, the topic of his baby girl came up. When asked what she was going as for Halloween, Kinsella proudly explained that even though they would never pull it off in public, his daughter has a Hitler-esque mop of hair when combed over, and that he and his wife were planning on having a baby Hitler photo shoot. He also spoke about wanting to dress her up like baby Jesus to go trick or treating, but his wife already bought her a monkey costume.

Other questions posed by concert goers:

cg: What kind of shoes are you wearing?

mk: Brown.

cg: What kind of dog do you have?

mk: Brown.

cg: Is this your last tour?

mk: This isn’t really a tour, this is just hanging out.

As Mike played the rest of his painfully relatable tunes about the struggles and triumphs of average twenty somethings, it began to feel more and more like we were back in that comfortable basement around the corner. Most of the audience murmured along, snickering when the lyric “I’m tired of speaking up and speaking clearly so the idiots in the back can hear me” came along. In all, it was an enjoyable night and Mike was as charming and talented as ever. My only disappointment is that although New Leaves was recorded with a full band, the band only played at the release party. When the texture represented on the album was lost, there wasn’t much more than lyrical content to distinguish the new songs from old. It was just a guy, his guitar, and his songs. It wasn’t a tour, it was just hanging out. And although that may have disappointed my expectations of some sort of added grandeur to Owen’s performance of the year before, I wish more musicians wanted to just hang out with me.

This past weekend fellow Pure Popper Amelia and I went to UVM to check out Of Montreal. As usual, they played their songs well, offering a bizarre and entertaining visual component, complete with psychedelic animations and costumed dancers. I really enjoyed a moment towards the end of the show when one of the dancers, dressed as Death, set up a chess board and proceeded to play with Kevin Barnes as he sang.

Unfortunately, the performance was at a gym. Every two years or so, I go to a gym concert just to remind myself to avoid them. Everything ends up sounding blown-out and muddy. Even with a great band like Of Montreal, I just don’t think shows in that kind of setting are worth it. I’m frankly baffled it’s standard practice to host music at gymnasiums. It’s analogous to playing baseball in an opera house.

The crowd seemed to really enjoy the show. They danced in that inept-but-charming New England college student way. (No offense to New England college students. You could all “serve” me.) As anything that takes place outside the confines of my bedroom usually does, the show made me feel old and out-of-touch. What is the relationship undergrads have with Of Montreal? Did their older siblings show them Satanic Panic in the Attic when they were in middle school? Do they love the Outback version of “Wraith Pinned to the Mist and Other Games“?

Over the course of the show, I observed someone wearing a tie-dyed Depeche Mode shirt, which is ridiculous. There were two gentlemen dressed identically down to their shoes, the most interesting thing about that being how innocuously bland they were dressed, like bankers on casual Friday. Someone threw an apple with one bite taken out of it by our feet. A girl wearing just a bit too little circled our area like a satellite, dancing for a few minutes as she looked around, seemingly yearning for someone to notice. (I did, sweetie.)

I look forward to seeing them again at a proper venue that will do them justice.

I showed up to Club Metropolis twenty minutes before Dungen hit the stage, a heartfelt desire to not be disappointed and a bottle of cheap strawberry daiquiri mix burning a hole in my stomach. I had been here most recently to see The National, their Boxer LP and Virginia EP being two of my most listened to albums from the previous year or so and while their performance was spirited, I felt they had a hard time translating their brooding heavily produced between-you-and-me delivery to the broad strokes required for such a large venue and seemingly disinterested audience. That experience had left me seriously questioning my interest in live music, at least, in seeing live many of the bands I enjoy in headphones.

I was apprehensive as i stood in the crowd eyeballing suspiciously the various p-dork hipsters, students and service industry veterans that i was sure constituted the entirety of the audience – were they gonna shutup and pay attention when the bands came on or spend the entire show with their backs to the stage?

When the skinny Swedes from Dungen walked quietly onto the stage taking up their instruments the crowd didn’t do much more than turn slightly – some applause – but when they let loose with an incredible racket, the crowd turned around and that was the last time the entire night I thought about anything other than what was going on the stage.

Dungen proceeded to tear it up proper, creating an incredible psych assault, interspersed with deft & delicate melodic interludes, lead singer Gustav Ejstes taking turns stomping and banging a tambourine, trilling on a flute or pounding out on some kind of vintage keyboard, basically doing the world’s greatest Robert Plant impression in the process – their chops and energy combined with their use of entirely vintage gear brought us about as close as we’ll ever get to a live set by some of those old psych heavy weights, and for that i was thrilled and grateful.

At one point, about 10 minutes into their set the girl next to me turned to me with dawning astonishment, “I didn’t know Dungen was playing here tonight?!” “Yeah? That’s cool…” I said back… not sure the proper response. At least it wasn’t anything like the last time i was here, having to listen to two guys argue over whether Facebook friends should be limited only to real life friends (of course not) the entire set.

Dungen left the stage, crowd cheering enthusiastically, i went out for a smoke. Next up Fleet Foxes.

I wasn’t sure what to expect – anyone who’s listened to their album and EP know they can write an incredibly affecting Beach Boys meets My Morning Jacket tinged folk rocker, but I for some reason was skeptical they could pull it off (oh wait i know why, cause I’m a jaded, tight black pants clad, irony drenched, record store guy,  Dur).

I was wrong, wonderfully wrong. Right out of the gate they engaged the audience with a room filling 3 (or 4) part acapella harmony that seemed to penitrate and wrap itself around everyone in the packed venue – from there things only got better, every song they launched into with increasing energy and the audience loved every minute of it. The band in turn was extremely appreciative and more than a few times between songs gave heartfelt thanks.  As for their songs and how they translated to the stage, i can say that the stage only served to increase the fullness of sound and energy of already great compositions, as a band they struck me as belonging there, like watching The Band or some other classic touring act from the hey day of live music, polished and competent.

I can honnestly think of no criticisms – the playing was incredibly tight, but more importantly earnest, and when the band finally left the stage I could tell everyone in the room felt well and entertained, myself included.  I’ll be checking out more live music again soon, my faith in live music (and it’s often boorish, fickle audiences) while not completely restored, was at least bolstered, and that’s really all an anti-social music snob like myself can ask.

Higher Ground and Pure Pop Records are giving away free tickets to see Les Claypool THIS WEEKEND, Sunday the 12th of July. All you need to be eligible is email us at purepopper@gmail.com and write “I Want Tickets to See Les Claypool” In the subject. Winners will be drawn on Saturday!

Winners will have their names put on the VIP list at the door, and invited backstage for a meet and greet with the man himself!

Higher Ground and Pure Pop Records are giving away 2 free tickets to see David Byrne this summer, Monday June 1st at the Shelburne Museum. All you need to do is post a photo to the Pure Pop Records Facebook page of your homemade sidewalk chalk graffiti featuring the words David Byrne, Shelburne Museum, 6/1/09 and, for extra credit: www.highergroundmusic.com.  Be Creative!

Here are the details for all you detail lovers:

Juuuuust a reminder that Dan Deacon is at Higher Ground tonight, Tuesday May 12th. Here’s footage of Dan’s first show he played with his ensemble back in December. With a bunch of gigs under their belt, I can’t wait to see what new degrees of tightnicity they have acheived.

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9HfYmBF2JgM

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-ysUbo4bED4

I think we’re entering the HAL-3000 phase of electronic music, in so much as saying that manipulated tones are starting to breathe. Now first off, I loathe techno. The few raves I attended as a teen were definitely not for the purpose of the music. The whole DJ house-beat, communal sweat-off thing never grabbed me, and I’ve kinda always looked down upon so-called “electronic” music. And I only mention this because in laymans terms, Dan Deacon‘s latest album, Bromst, would be classified as electronic music, and quite simply it’s already one of my Top 20 albums of all time.

As I did a full interview with Deacon for State of Mind, (viewable at www.stateofmindmusic.com) I’ve had a few months to continually redigest the early copy of Bromst I received. Now if you’re familiar with Deacon, you know that his live shows are absolutely rediculous, and essentially just involve him making a bunch of crazy looping tones and patterns with structured chaos ensuing. Well this new album was made with the intention of Dan performing the music live with a full ensemble – thus, there is a thickness and far more tangible quality of these songs than anything he’s ever done before. It sounds cliche’, but this album is overwhelmingly organic. He’s using real instruments for the first time, all be it they occasionally get recycled into something brand new and unfamiliar, but he’s never before used piano riffs, for instance. The result is a massive new era wall-of-sound. Each song climbs and reforms into huge moments of beautiful modern psychadelia. And these tunes really are beautiful, they have the power to bring stashed emotions to your brow, they cause a sonic release, a relaxation from a tenseness you weren’ t even aware of.

“Snookered” is frankly amazing. It’s a movement of build and release, but in a completely unexpected way – when all the patterns interect towards the end, it’s utter euphoria. As Dan said, “I wanted this album to be more of a celebration and less of a party.” If you’ve already taken Animal Collective‘s latest Merriweather Post Pavillion as your guiding torch into a new modern era of emotive, manipulated sound, then Bromst will quite frankly knock you on your ass. Gonna be tough for something to come out to beat this for “Album of 2009″ in my book. Here’s “Snookered” – sorry, Youtube is the only thing I’m good at embedding.