Common has long been one of Chicago's most valuable artistic resources. As trends swept through the hip-hop world, carrying every johnny-come-lately in their wake, Common remained true to his muse. While his early work was solid, containing such standouts as "Used To Love H.E.R.," we feel he really hit his stride during the sweet lilt of breakthrough album Like Water For Chocolate, and we became true fans in the face of the sonic experiments that ran through Electric Circus. Follow-up Be dialed down the adventure a few notches, but remained an impressively solid album, even if some tracks did reach a little too hard in their attempts to slip into the mainstream (um, admit it, "Go" charted well, but it ain't Common at his strongest).

So that brings us to Finding Forever, out today. Kanye West's production is all over the disc, and we think West has finally figured out how to dial back his own ego in order to provide Common with tracks that seem intrinsically suited for the MC. A sultry soulful musical thread carries through most of the tracks while Common's lyrics dodge and weave, punching syllables through the fabric of the backing track. This feels so natural one might be hard pressed to hear some of the original material the samples were lifted from without wishing Common was there as well. For instance, it take a pretty amazing vocalist to have the balls to rap over Nina Simone's "Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood," and actually deliver a sultry duo without any hint of sentimentality or pretension.

Even points that might induce worry, like a duet with Lily Allen that name checks OKGo's treadmill antics, sidesteps disaster to instead become a playful sounding bounce countered by darker lyrics pointing out the fallacies people indulge in while looking for love. It's this sort of dexterity Common displays throughout the disc that makes Finding Forever his strongest record to date, in our opinion. He and his producing partners have finally woven an album that plays to his vocal strengths, while still keeping the songs loose and forward-looking beat-wise. The final result strongly bolsters the argument for Common as one of Chicago's most valuable resources, period.

We completely forgot to mention that this weekend is the annual Fiesta del Sol in Pilsen. Now in its 35th year, proceeds from Fiesta del Sol benefit the Pilsen Neighbors Community Council. Over the course of the PNCC's history, they've helped in the formation of Benito Juarez High School, Alivio Medical Center, and today is a major lobby for immigration reform and provides college scholarships for deserving students.

Fiesta del Sol is the largest non-smoking, alcohol-free event of its kind in the Midwest, celebrating the culture, music, art, and culinary traditions of Chicago's Mexican-American community. From Morgan to Loomis, Cermak Road is transformed into a carnival of sights, sounds, and smells. Nearly 1.5 million people attend Fiesta del Sol, and it's a great way for the curious to get an idea of what a great neighborhood Pilsen truly is. Fiesta del Sol runs from 11 a.m. through 11 p.m. this evening, and 11 a.m. until 10 p.m. tomorrow.

One week from today we’ll be sitting in the sun (hopefully) listening to The Polyphonic Spree. We know everything doesn’t end and begin with Lollapalooza, so here are some concerts that are happening locally after the madness is over.

Wilco in the Park – that should be the album they record when we, their fans, are past our prime and sit on park benches reminiscing about the good old days of mp3 players. Instead, Sky Blue Sky should be at the forefront of this concert in Millennium Park.
Sept. 12, Jay Pritzker Pavilion, $10 lawn, $45 seated, all ages, on sale 11:00 a.m. Saturday

Our workout faves, Justice are bringing their infectious dance fun to the Metro. We are looking forward to dancing our asses off in a steaming, swirling pit of our peers until we have to break loose from the crowd and take a rest on the stairs.
Oct. 17, Metro, $21, 18+, on sale noon Saturday

For something completely different – Jose Gonzalez and James Blackshaw play Park West. When we saw Jose at Intonation, the openness of the outdoor stage felt impersonal, we hope that the intimacy afforded by Park West will bring out the beauty of his lyrics and guitar play.
Oct. 4, Park West, $18-$20, all ages, on sale 10:00 a.m. Saturday

It seems to be the time of year where everyone is coming to town. So many great shows that we don’t have enough room on our little list. We won’t be writing anything next week as we will be working on our sunburn at Lollapalooza. We’ll see you there!

We’re gonna cut right to the chase, since it’s Friday and we’re all clock watching like woah: The Saturday lineup on the north stage of the Wicker Park Summerfest might be the best $5 you spend on live music all summer:

Fancy Trash kicks off with a tough-kid brand of punky acoustic in the hangover breakfast slot, which sounds to us like a decent way to ease into that first beer of the afternoon.

We’ve talked about how Skybox’s jaunty cabaret pop tickles our fancy for quirky, accessible pop. They’re a perfect fit in a day’s worth of unique music.

Catfish Haven is one of Chicago’s most beloved “indie” bands, thanks to their rough ‘n’ tumble folk punk and unpretentious, anything-goes live show.

Members of Milwaukee’s Maritime include veterans of first-wave emo heroes The Promise Ring and The Dismemberment Plan, meaning that they’d probably sell tickets on pedigree alone. Happy to say they’re also making relevant post-emo pop to support the provenance.

Texans Centro-Matic are veterans of the festival circuit, but they keep getting the gigs for a good reason: it’s comfortable, well-executed twangy rock that’s replete with near-brilliant melodies and reflective lyrics.

Man Man may be the icing on this afternoon cake, as their live show is worthy of no other description besides “spectacle.” Behind the circus on stage, though are more-than-adequate and more-interesting-than-most pop songs.

Finish out your day of drinking in the sun with The Thermals’ blistering, no frills take on post-pop-punk. You’ll dance, you’ll swerve, you may puke...but that puny $5 cover means you’ll have plenty of cash left for a Bloody Mary on Sunday morning.

It’s all fun and games until someone calls sell-out, but how is almost every artist not a sell-out when it comes to putting tunes behind a commercial these days? From the use of “Lust for Life” to get us aboard a Royal Caribbean Cruise to Wilco shilling for Volkswagen, what are the best or worst songs used in commercials? Mark Caro wants your comments about that over at his blog, Pop Machine.

Do we care that The Beatles’ music is used in a Luvs diaper commercial? Probably not as much as those who grew up with that music as the soundtrack to their lives. Our generation’s cries of sell-out have been thrown more readily to indie bands, such as Of Montreal’s appearance in an Outback Steak House ad. Play along with Mark and Rolling Stone’s “Worst Rock Sell Outs Ever!” by disparaging more bands with the sell-out moniker. Or, praise them for their American right to control their own destinies by getting cash that can be used to record an album outside the artistic constraints of the mainstream recording industry.

Image from campaign literature by the very people who want to help license your music, Leap Music.

This past Sunday marked the 25th birthday of Chicago’s most beloved (and sometimes bemoaned) rock club, the Cabaret Metro. Known to most simply as “The Metro,” the joint kicked off its venerable life with a performance by a then-little-known rock combo from Athens, GA called R.E.M.

A quarter-century later, Metro is one of the last remaining major independent clubs in the country, with a rich history of offering many of rock’s most hallowed names their first really visible appearance on the Chicago scene. This storied past was celebrated in its full, weird splendor on Saturday night as owner Joe Shanahan opened the venue’s doors to an eclectic crowd of Metro employee alumni, music writers, artists, radio personnel, staff from other clubs in the city, band managers and agents, and old friends. As if the open bar wasn’t enough by way of entertainment, the Metro staff put together a clever video spoof on the club’s past called “Historical Moments in History,” featuring the behind-the-scenes crew as various rockers who have played the club. A separate, brief video history of the venue was an eye-opener, featuring classic old handbills and footage from such iconic performances as the White Stripes, the Beastie Boys, and Nirvana. DJ sets by the Life During Wartime collective, Brad Owen, and Peter Hook of Joy Division and WXRT’s ever-gracious Marty Lennartz as host rounded out the evening’s agenda. It was just the right mix of scene-to-be-seen and good ol’ times, befitting of a piece of this city’s music history.

What’s the best/wildest/most unbelievable show you’ve ever caught at Metro?

We've been hearing about director Kevin McAlester's disturbingly intimate look at Roky Erickson's life for quite some time, anticipating the documentary's arrival in the Midwest. And tonight we don't have to wait any longer.

"You're Gonna Miss Me," is a documentary that outlines the story of Erickson, who made his name as lead singer from the 13th Floor Elevators. As the story goes, Roky was arrested in 1969 for carrying one joint. He entered an insanity plea, ended up in a mental hospital and was punished for his multiple escape attempts by being transferred to Rusk State Hospital for the criminally insane. He was given electro-shock therapy and was diagnosed schizophrenic, a label that those closest to him say is inaccurate. The electrical shock to his brain essentially left him mentally disabled, causing Erickson to battle with health problems since he was released from the hospital in 1973.

As we witnessed here in Chicago last summer at Intonation Music Festival, (R.I.P.) Erickson's first concert outside of Texas since 1982, he is finally receiving the proper medical care and has improved enough to embark on a tour around the United States. This movie follows Erickson from the beginning of his popularity as a musician, through his dark period in the mental institutions and into his continuous recovery and rebirth as a musician.

The documentary, hosted tonight by Sound Opinions hosts Greg Kot and Jim DeRogatis, will include a Q&A with McAlester directly following the movie.

"You're Gonna Miss Me" screens tonight at the Music Box Theatre, 3733 N. Southport Ave., at 7:30 p.m. Cost is $10.

"Roky Erickson @ Intonation" photo via get directly down.

Here’s what you missed while you were reading Harry Potter… and while Harry Potter got stinking rich:

Grab your composition paper and get to work. The Chicago Chamber Musicians are searching for the next great chamber piece by a brilliant composer age 32 or younger. They’ll perform the winning entry at a CCM concert next June. Entries are due December 1, so check out the rules, then find your muse.

Thirty years ago, the Sears Tower looked down on all others. Now the Chicago-based Council on Tall Buildings and Urban Habitat is preparing to certify Burj Dubai as the new world’s tallest. The structure has reportedly surpassed 1,680 feet in height (beating current record-holder Taipei 101) and is expected to top out somewhere around 2,275 feet when completed at the end of ‘08.

Billed as “the greatest jazz dance event in the world!”, the Jazz Dance World Festival takes hold at the Harris Theater August 1-4, featuring seven companies from around the world and six local troupes, including host Giordano Jazz Dance Chicago, Muntu Dance Theatre and Chicago Tap Theatre, who’ll take the stage a few hours after appearing at another major festival a few blocks south.

This week’s Time Out Chicago and the TOC blog shed light on Top of the World, a gorgeous West Side mural which might soon succumb to condo creep. Its creator Jeff Zimmerman is working on a new “sexually-charged” piece for installation at the Center on Halsted Whole Foods.

O.K., let's say you're cheap (or on a really tight budget, that's totally understandable too) so you're not buying tickets to this year's Hideout block party ... but you still want to see fabulous bands like Andrew Bird, Bloc Party, The Frames, Mucca Pazza, Art Brut, Dan Deacon (who you really MUST see live), and a bunch of other cool acts yet to be announced. You can still get in by volunteering!

Volunteers do everything from working the doors, to selling beer tickets, to serving beer, to setting up in the morning, to cleaning everything up throughout the day and into the night. We've done this a couple times in year's past and have always had a blast. It's not exactly glamorous work, but you do get to meet a lot of cool people and catch a bunch of great bands.

So what do you get in return for your hard work? If you sign up to volunteer 3 - 4 hours, you get free admission the day you volunteer, and you get 3 free beer tickets at the end of your shift. If you're looking for even more perks, you can register to volunteer as a team leader working a 7 hour shift on Friday or a 6 hour shift on Saturday. Team leaders get free admission to both days of the block party, and get to hang in the Hospitality Tent after their shift. That tent is stocked with an endless flow of free beer and, if we recall correctly, they sometimes have a little light food in there too. Plus there's a private bathroom in the tent (which is a super bonus when those lines begin to stretch later in the day). Bonus!

If you're interested in becoming a volunteer please contact Pat Lee at pat_lee (at) comcast (dot) net ... oh yeah, and keep in mind there's nothing stopping you from volunteering AND buying tickets, since all the profits go to benefit local charities anyway!

The weekend is here, and for many that means packing up the available vehicle and getting out of the city. If camping or fishing or what have you aren’t your style, make a city-to-city musical jaunt up to Milwaukee. Kick it off with a mix of solid Mil-town artists like the Violent Femmes, The Promise Ring, and The Obsoletes for the 90 minute ride and get ready to discover that Milwaukee’s music scene proves that it’s more than “Chicago’s northern-most suburb.”

The center of the Brew City’s indie scene is arguably the Cactus Club. Located in the uber-trendy hipster haunt of Bay View, the Cactus has been attracting both local and national independent-leaning acts for over a decade. Alumni of the self-described “super shithole” include the White Stripes, Interpol, and Queens of the Stone Age. Closed for remodeling until August 9th, the Cactus Club promises to continue the tradition of cold, cheap beer and dirty rocknroll on the south side of Milwaukee.

Stonefly Brewery, formerly Onopa Brewery, is a cavernous space in the emerging Riverwest neighborhood of Milwaukee that also attracts national indie-pop acts and adds the occasional jam band to the mix. Hipsters and hippies alike enjoy the outstanding house brews and better-than-decent bites while enjoying such recent shows as Two Gallants, Earlimart, and Thunderbirds Are Now!

Mad Planet has picked up some of the all ages slack that ensued after the closing of the legendary Globe East punk club about 5 years ago. Also located in Riverwest, Mad Planet is a dirty pool-hall-cum-rock-club that won’t go out of its way for anyone (you have to leave the show and run down the street for a beer if it’s an all ages affair because the club doesn’t have an all ages liquor license), so if you’re gonna hang here you’d better be ready to throwdown. Upcoming shows include the Detroit Cobras, the Black Lips, and David Yow of the Jesus Lizard.

Linneman’s Riverwest Inn rounds out our musical tour of Milwaukee with one of this writer’s favorite bars anywhere and a brand new music room to attract some of the best acoustic and rock acts in the Midwest. Enjoy local microbrews like Capitol and Lakefront on the cheap in the homey confines while enjoying such upcoming shows as Sunday Morning Chameleon.

There is nothing more that we want to get done than this installment of Empty Out Your Wallet, so we can get outside and enjoy this day. Leave it to the Ticketmaster gods to curse us once again with numerous great shows making our job harder.

The show that our readers were looking forward to last week, The Flaming Lips at the Aragon, goes on sale at 11 a.m. on Saturday. This should be a great time. Having seen the Lips at Lollapalooza for the first time last year and feeling the joy created by their onstage mayhem, we're looking forward to seeing the show inside and feeling that euphoric buzz again.
Sept. 7, Aragon, $37.50, all ages, on sale 11 a.m. Saturday

Onto a festival that proves we aren't the only ones who download music impaired, The U.K.'s Download Festival comes to Northerly Island. The Shins, Snoop Dogg, Wolf Parade, and more all are slated to perform. We wonder if they will shuffle themselves, so it seems like a private concert playlist on our iPod.
Sept. 2, Northerly Island's Charter One Pavilion, $20 - $40, all ages, on sale noon Friday

With their newly released video, "The Money Maker", Rilo Kiley are garnering some choice commentary for the length, porn star interviews and disco-y sound, but we could care less. We've been listening to More Adventurous and Take Offs and Landings for so long without seeing the band live, that we just don't know how we'll react to them in the flesh and blood. We hope it doesn't involve tears, that'd be uncool.
Sept. 15, Riviera Theatre, $26, all ages, on sale 10 a.m. Saturday

We're gettting cabin fever, so we're skipping on mentioning Macy Gray; Kanye West's fundraiser at House of Blues; Of Montreal; The New Pornographers; or Pit Er Pat's takeover of all the stages in Chicagoland. That's all until we get another paycheck and can clear out the wallet next week.

The Plain White T’s have quietly been playing around since 1997, but ten years in they are experiencing something called “success” with their first major label album, Every Second Counts. The band earned its first Billboard Hot 100 No.1 with their single “Hey There Delilah” unseating Rihanna’s “Umbrella” which spent seven weeks at the top.

Just last week the RedEye Chi-Tunes spotlight featured the band and the hottest song in the country. Was that enough to finally push the song from #2 to #1? Our next chance to catch the band anywhere near home is at the DuPage County Fair on July 26 or at Six Flags in Gurnee on August 17.

Last night's Decemberists show at Millennium Park was the last stop on the band's mini-tour playing with symphonies around the country. The free concert, curated by Metro, had the highest attendance volume of any free show we've ever seen at the park, and although we're bad with guessing crowd sizes, we'd venture to say there were upwards of 10,000 people in and around the amphitheater trying to at least hear a glimpse of sound. And while the band's folky harmonies blended perfectly with the army of stringed instruments in the Grant Park Orchestra, the band's drunken sailor-like stage antics created quite a contrast with the usually serene atmosphere during the park's summer concert series.

Photos and review continue after the jump.

So, since yesterday when we posted the literal scoop about WLUW's potential future as an independent, community, listener-sponsored radio station, we've gotten some more information.

First and foremost, we got an email from Craig Kois, who relayed the following to us:

"Jocelyn...Thanks for your detailing of Monday's meeting. I have forwarded the link to our staff since I was not able to take notes that evening as planned.

I do want to clarify that I am not okay with not being here for this final year of delivering our
community-based programming because I am still committed to our audience and to the current mission of WLUW. The idea that Shawn and I will be gone did not come from us nor from WBEZ.

Again, thanks for being at the Monday meeting and for spreading the word about what is going on."

Craig Kois / WLUW

Second we found out that our good pal, Scott Smith, at Time Out Chicago wrote a piece, and he got the bigwigs to talk to him. Nice work, Scott.

Thirdly, we got an email from Robert Feder, lamenting the fact we didn't link to him (or use his first name). The first name thing should be a compliment -- we figured if you're into radio goings on, you know who Feder is. However, the lack of link was an oversight on our part, not an intentional slight.

Lastly, it has been noted several times in the comments of the original article that the students of WNUR are not required to participate in the radio station as part of their studies at Medill. Point noted.

So, that's all the news that's fit to print ... for now.

Image by kid static

You'd think after a certain busy weekend, we'd be all music-ed out by now, right? Wrong. Especially when tonight holds an astounding bill co-headlined by The Comas and Great Northern. In one sense the line-up couldn't be more polarized since one band comes from L.A. with a lushly grand sound and the other from New York — loud, and prone to spastic freakouts. But, in truth, both bands strive for a similar sense of beauty at the core of all their songs.

Great Northern is led by the boy/girl vocals of Solon Bixler and Rachel Stolte, telling tales reaching for change and reveling in the perfection of the day-to-day. The songs are gauzy in feel, but one can feel that covering a rock-solid base of powerful drive. Strings float in and out of the mix, guitars swell to the size of skyscrapers, and while the mood constantly feels as if sadness is tugging at the hems, optimistic buoyancy lifts each and every composition towards the rafters. "Just A Dream," off Trading Twilight For Daylight, is a perfect exhibit for this; it begins with a driving beat that gives way to a quiet reprieve before building up the tension broken by a chorus that bursts through the musical spikes, like so many shafts of light breaking through the storm.

We readily admit being really late to the party that The Comas are throwing, but their fourth album Spells has completely captivated us. Like Great Northern, the band relies on male/female interplay, from Andy Herod and Nicole Gehweiler's vocals, but The Comas are more interested in driving their point home while Great Northern seems content to let their message wash over the listener.

The Comas seem gripped by a nervous urgency, as if they only have a few precious seconds to get their message across. So the band utilizes each song to take a whirlwind tour of emotive changes, time shifts, and the good ol' tool of soft/loud/soft dynamics to get the job done. The result is a journey down a path musically familiar, but filled with excitement. From the first 30 seconds* of album opener "Red Microphones" the group's captivating M.O. is made apparent as a jaunty opening guitar makes way for crashing drums before breaking into a loping paranoid reflection broken by a disjointed orchestra phoning it in from Mars.

*Bonus points to whomever can tie these preceding two words into Great Northern as well.

The Comas and Great Northern play an 18+ show Subterranean tonight at 8:30 p.m.

Top photo of Great Northern by Jason Odell.
Bottom photo courtesy of The Comas.

O.K., given the coverage we've already lavished on the little indie fest that could, we're going to keep this brief. Overall we would rate the entire experience a good one, but we agreed with one of our colleagues when he said, "there was a sense ... that the fest was starting to experience growing pains." We don't know if this is because indie rock has become so fully integrated into the mainstream that this third festival curated by Pitchfork seemed different than the first two, or if it's just that the natural progression of things is to grow larger each year. Either way we admit to being a little confused since last year's fest was also sold out, yet none of the things that created hitches last weekend (well, almost none) were a problem before.

Everyone is to blame for album sales being down except the actual industry itself. Who gets the spotlight for bringing down the sales this time? It’s the media and those promo copies they receive in order to review albums before they hit the street.

Everyone remembers the Jack White/Q101 fiasco a few weeks back after Electra played Icky Thump in its entirety and then (surprise!) the album showed up on file sharing sites three weeks before the official release date. In this article, Emmis Communications Regional Vice President and General Manager states that the copy was given to them by someone "associated" with the record (duh!) and that they were told by the label when they asked to play the album in its entirety that they would probably not receive a cease and desist order.

Record companies are stating that these kinds of leaks lower sales by about half and have set their latest “shame on you” piracy messages to the very people given the job of promoting record sales. Whether it’s selling an actual promo copy on eBay, playing an album before the release date, or posting it to a file sharing site, apparently reviewers and promoters don’t care if the artists they rely on to make a buck actually get to make any money for their art.

The rampant leaking of material has both major labels and local labels, such as Bloodshot Records, limiting the number of tracks out for review or putting digital watermarks on the promotional copies so the person who leaks the content can be held responsible and/or taken off lists for receiving music pre-release date. We certainly believe that there are reviewers out there who sell their promo CDs for some cash, or post a great new song on their blog without believing they are putting an artist at risk of losing any royalties, but there are a lot of other places that receive advanced copies, as well. (When we worked at Best Buy in college, the store always had advanced copies of upcoming releases. That’s around 740 copies in circulation for them alone.)

We understand that piracy is a serious issue for the recording industry, but time and again it seems like they’d rather focus on a small segment of the people who may be illegally sharing music rather than address the flaws in their own business plan contributing to lower album sales. The digital encryptions will help labels police the bad guys more efficiently, which we agree with and, honestly, reviewers and other media outlets, why would you bite the hand that feeds you?

Promo record image via FMG Vinyl.

After we saw an anonymous tip on our sidebar saying that WLUW (88.7 FM) would no longer exist in its current form, we were filled with a sense of dread. How? Why? More importantly, was this really true? We called Shawn Campbell, Program Director, to see what was up. She confirmed that the gist of the tip was true, but told us that the information had been leaked to Feder before WLUW and WBEZ had a chance to talk to their staff (no one from management had done this). They definitely wanted to do so before making a public comment, and Shawn remarked on the situation, "We wanted to wait until after Pitchfork so everyone's weekend wouldn't be ruined." Fair enough. Unfortunately, that privilege had been stolen by someone already.

However, when we went over to the station last night, we heard there was a meeting with the WBEZ higher-ups (Torey Malatia, General Manager of WBEZ; Ron Jones, Program Director; Daniel Ash, Vice President, Strategic Communications) and the staff to answer any questions they might have. We have done one or two airshifts at WLUW and have helped out with the pledge drive on several occasions, so we sat right down for the details.

First and foremost, we were entirely pleased that the voices from WBEZ were completely forthright, transparent and willing to answer all the staff questions. So much so that we had to leave before the then two-hour meeting was over. The meeting started off with Shawn Campbell and Craig Kois (Station Manager) giving a few personal remarks. It was soon to be revealed that they would no longer have positions with the station, which came as a shock and visibly angered and saddened the staff deeply.

Kois started by saying "the passion [they have for independent community radio] was challenged by Loyola [five years ago], and these fine folks from WBEZ saved our asses." Shawn was also quick to note that "they [WBEZ] did everything they could to prevent this from happening, and they've been with us every step of the way." It was an exact opposite from a meeting held with the staff five years ago when they were informed WBEZ was coming on board to start to help run the show. At that time, people were convinced WBEZ was going to be a repeater for their 91.5 signal or that they were interested in coming in and completely changing the station. Gratefully that was not true, and now WBEZ was now perceived as the station's biggest friend and ally. In fact, according to Malatia, the reason they got involved in the first place was because they believe in community radio and invested in WLUW in order to "preserve an art form and important voice that is largely missing from the dial."

Hear more about the details of the meeting after the jump. ...

Alert: This post is not about Pitchfork. We know you are disappointed.

Tonight's show at the Empty Bottle is designed to get us back into club mode — where we watch bands play on small stages in small venues and are able to tie their shoelaces or count their beads of sweat if we want to.

To begin, we have Empty Bottle virgins The Sharks, who have been in the middle of quite an upswing on the local scene, most notably beginning with their "mainstream venue" debut at Subterranean in May. This five-piece is known for their abilities to charm the pants off their audiences, partially because of their incredibly obvious bond on stage and (Pitchfork haters will hopefully appreciate this) partially because they are the epitome of non-hipster. For every naysayer who called out a skinny dude in a neckerchief this weekend, there's a band member in The Sharks rocking a white Hanes T-shirt. These kids don't dress for the after party.

The Sharks' steady, upbeat keyboard lines mixed with classic guitar riffs and male and female vocals, often in unison, are basically irresistible. We just hope you're wearing elastic waistbands because three songs into the set, we're pretty sure the band will have charmed your pants to an entirely different state, causing you to reassess your favorite bands immediately, making room for this under-the-radar local set.

The Sharks precede the more minimalist Asthmatic Kitty darlings Shapes and Sizes, who may not make you want to dance, but they will definitely captivate with multiple instrumentation and nonsensical lyrics: "I like eating fruit off of trees when I'm with you/Children gone mad, children gone bad, it's a sad, eating mom, eating dad, children gone mad." It's a given that everyone on the label sounds like a combination of Sufjan and someone else, a descriptor that we're sure Shapes and Sizes are quickly growing tired of.

Headlining the night is Canada's own circus rock aficionados They Shoot Horses Don't They? Imagine if Tom Waits' band and Win Butler had babies who grew up to be a band. Well, there you have it.

It's shaping up to be a grey, rainy Tuesday, and you deserve a little sunshine. Tonight's show is about as sunny as it gets.

They Shoot Horses Don't They?, Shapes and Sizes and The Sharks play at 9:30 p.m. tonight at the Empty Bottle.

The Sharks' photo courtesy of the band.

Day three of the Pitchfork Music Festival got off to a slow start, with a smaller crowd, but we chalk that up to stronger headliners and more folks electing to arrive later in the day. Since one of our other writers was already covering the earlier bands, we elected to begin our coverage with Stephen Malkmus' main stage appearance.

Malkmus' set was one of the ones with the most buzz, since it could be argued that Malkmus' original band Pavement is the patron saint of post-'90s indie rock. He took the stage with a single acoustic guitar, and a minimal yet unoccupied drum set sitting to his right. We guessed that since Bob Nastanovich, Pavement's percussionist, was standing backstage, it was a good bet that he would be manning that mini-kit at some point.

Malkmus opened the show saying, "Two-thirds of my solo shows have been in the Chicago area, so I feel right at home here. He then played "Heaven Is A Truck" off the classic Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain, and it was obvious by the return roar that he was performing to a crowd of the converted. His set-list contained a fair amount of Pavement gems, with a number of tracks from his solo discs, and near the end Nastanovich did indeed join him on stage to play shambling half-formed drums to the Pavement classics "Trigger Cut" and "In The Mouth A Desert."

As a whole, the set was entertaining, but we feel Malkmus is best served with a full backing band. Armed with just his voice and his guitar, we saw that the folks who were not already fans quickly lost attention.

Of Montreal followed Malkmus, and they took exactly the opposite approach.

Chicagoist had the foresight to divide the days of the Pitchfork Music Festival amongst ourselves, so as to offer you, the reader, consistent, non-sunburned coverage of as much of the weekend as possible. Without further ado, let’s take a look at some of the breakfast-slot hits and misses from the past two days:

SATURDAY

Voxtrot surprised with a buoyant set of danceable candy on Saturday afternoon. On record their synth-pop is passable but not extraordinary, yet they took full advantage of the opportunity to play for the concentrated indie fandom gathered at Union Park and kicked out a memorable set.

Grizzly Bear’s mid-Saturday-afternoon performance was perhaps one of the most anticipated of the weekend, as the mood-driven ambiance and haunting melodies of their 2006 effort, Yellow House, struck many as one of the best albums that year. While the band certainly delivered on their recorded promises — complicated, thoughtful song structures with gospel-like vocal harmonies — something of the delicacy in the music was lost in translation to the massive outdoor festival environment.

Battles is a difficult set for Chicagoist to weigh in on, as we were relegated by a beer and Pot-O-Potty run to the very back of the crowd. From that vantage point, there wasn’t much variation in their instrumental psych-out rock, but our colleagues in the photo pit would tell you that the band’s deft ability with their instruments and intricate interplay was highly impressive up close.

SUNDAY

The Sea and Cake may hold some sort of reverence for many slightly older fans of independent music, with whom this Chicagoist writer most often agrees, but we weren’t blown away by the sleepy sameness of their set. Perhaps it was “indie rock” overload, but the cake we enjoyed most during this performance was the funnel variety.

Jamie Lidell was the between-the-eyes surprise of the festival for this writer, as he stalked around the stage in a silk robe and party hat, mixing smart dance beats with soulful vocals. Though we were camped out across the park for Stephen Malkmus, we couldn’t help but smile at Lidell’s quirky, feel-good performance.

Speaking of Stephen Malkmus … someone put us out of our misery. As huge Pavement fans, we spent the 90 minutes before his set holding onto our dusty patch of ground in front of the stage, fighting sunburn, spilled beer, and unwashed humans to have the best possible position from which to hear our hero perform the soundtrack to our nerdly youth, but without a band Malkmus was underwhelming and decidedly dull.

We have a confession to make: we've never been to Pitchfork before. Considering the festival's only been going on officially for two years, it's not all that surprising. Still, being music lovers, we wanted to shed the "Pitchfork virgin" connotation and take the plunge. The only other big music fest we've been party to was the Touch & Go 25th anniversary at Hideout last year, along with the occasional street fest. We picked Saturday for our coming-out, since we knew a whopping two bands on the bill that day. (We said we love music. We didn't say we were hip.)

Getting there wasn't so bad; our locale in Lakeview afforded us a trip entirely by train (well, a little on foot). Since we're the dorks we are and wanted to get there as early as possible, we showed right around noon. Staff was helpful and courteous while we waited for gates to open; one girl even comped us a water, as we were loathe to break the seal on the one we'd brought. As we trotted out onto the grounds, it looked as if Union Park had been carpet-bombed by Urban Outfitters and Threadless. We even spotted a Cameron Diaz-esque Chairman Mao messenger bag. Along with the prerequisite oversized plastic sunglasses and neckerchiefs, we couldn't swing a dead cat without hitting a guy in either a band or ironic/nonsensical tee. Some of our favorites included "I listen to bands that don't even exist yet" and an iconic representation of the little dude from Katamari Damacy.

We caught the Twilight Sad on the Connector stage, since we're huge suckers for a Scottish accent. Yum. We came up for air during Voxtrot; their energetic machinations were pleasant enough on stage and for the growing crowd, but it wasn't the kind of thing we'd listen to at home. Knowing we had a long day ahead of us, we rested our aching legs for a bit, then checked out the WLUW/Depart-ment vendor sheds. Hipsters hunched over stacks and stacks of CDs and vinyl. After scoping some ugly-cute stuffed animals and just-ugly purses, we came upon a table selling fancied-up CTA signage. We liked the look of the 8"x10" signs until we saw the $40 price tag. Anyone tell this guy we can get the same real shit off the Illinois Railway Museum site for half that, at the most? Despite our disgust at most tables' markups, we came away with two CDs for ourselves and some gifts for friends.

We entered the Pitchfork Music Festival grounds a little late Saturday, since the CTA saw fit to make sure all the buses we needed to take were running extra slow, while suspending Blue Line service between Western and Clark/State. They picked a bang-up weekend to make sure they removed the primary vein of public travel right from the heart of the hipster corridor. As we arrived though, we were dually serenaded by the noise of a big-time photographer trying to argue his way into a VIP pass, overlaid by the muted strumming of Iron and Wine.

Iron and Wine exhibited one of the main problems with putting some of the more popular indie rock acts on the huge main stages; they just don't have the sound or presence to pull it of. Music that is deeply touching in a club environment drifts off and gets lost when it hits the open air. It also didn't help that near the end of their set you could hear Mastodon soundchecking, rather loudly. (This, incidentally was a problem that popped up a few times this weekend, most notably when one of GZA's backing tracks started playing during Slint's set Friday night.)

Walking across the festival grounds it also seemed that people were drunker, the lines to the bathrooms were Sisyphean, the dust in the air gave the scene a slight Mad Max feel, and we were worried. Where was the feel-good vibe of last year?

Luckily we rediscovered that vibe as we made out way to the side-stage to catch part of Professor Murder's set.

Music festivals are lots of things to lots of people: to the City, they represent quality of life and revenue draws from tourism; to music fans, they can be a great way to see many of your favorite bands all at once, while checking out new music; to some, they're like a vacation in your own town. But to activists and social movement groups, they're also an opportunity to reach out to people that might be interested in your issues or philosophies who wouldn't otherwise have contact with you.

With this in mind, we took a stroll through the booths and tables around Pitchfork, having a look at the groups and movements that think Pitchfork Festival-goers are part of their demographic. From animal-rights to presidential candidates, health-care reform to global warming, from medical marijuana to feminism, the presence of groups representing points of view was felt, if not diverse.

Our first stop was at Barack Obama's tent, where fresh-faced and idealist political science majors were handing out buttons, stickers, and voter registration cards. "This is a great opportunity to reach out to young voters who might not otherwise feel engaged in the political process," one of the volunteers said, handing us several Obama '08 stickers. As we stepped away from the tent, we were approached by a young lady carrying a petition for PETA. As she explained to us their latest campaign (expanding humane treatment rights for commercially-raised chicken), we noticed that PETA had one of the larger presences at the event, no surprise for an organization that has virtually pioneered the modern animal-rights movement, and is known for having creative, engaging, and effective protest tactics. In particular, PETA2 was around in force, the group's outreach campaign for young activists.

Further on, we ran into the Sierra Club, where we signed a petition to encourage the Illinois Legislature to enact stricter clean-air regulations, similar to those already the law in California. Less impressive was the NOW booth, staffed by a few bored looking college-age women and an older fellow. With no real initiatives going on, and none of the influence that other groups wield, NOW is simply looking to sign up new members.

We hope you have as much fun this weekend at Pitchfork as we plan to. And if you get a few moments between bands, maybe you can stop by the activist side of this event and get some information about your favorite cause, or find out about a new one. Besides checking out new bands, you might find a way to make Chicago, Illinois, or even the nation a better place!

The first day of the Pitchfork Music Festival showcased three classic acts, performing their classic albums. Slint re-created their seminal Spiderland, and while watching their set we realized that they are definitely one of those bands everyone name-checks, but almost no one has actually heard. Kind of like how dudes in the '90s would talk about how awesome Patti Smith's Horses was because that was just the sort of thing you were supposed to say. We were pleased to see them though, and suspect that the small portion of the crowd that did love the band finally saw their dream come true through their live set; and we suspect that the rest of the folks in the crowd were probably won over by the band's slinky melodies and explorations deep into their own cavernous sound.

GZA was up next to play his high water mark, Liquid Swords. Looking around the crowd it was then that we realized that for this current generation, GZA and the Wu-Tang Clan are like their Nirvana, or R.E.M., or Minutemen, or Sonic Youth; they were the artists that spoke to them, and broke through to them, and showed them what music was capable of, at an early age. We enjoyed the show, and vibed off the crowd's energy as we got closer to the stage, but we also admit not feeling the emotional connection or visceral thrill that was evident throughout most of the crowd. We personally like hip-hop better when it's performed in a club where the beats can truly envelop us, but we enjoyed the set nonetheless.

And then came Sonic Youth.

While the crowd paid attention to Slint, and grew more energetic for GZA, it was obvious just about everyone was really there to Sonic Youth's performance of Daydream Nation. And the older art-rockers did not disappoint. When they ripped into "Teen Age Riot" to start the set, the crowd exploded, attempting to match the furious guitars, rolling bass, and cacaphonic drums leaping off the stage with an equal return of energy. But the crowd was no match for Sonic Youth massive presence and submitted happily to the band's attack. The energy seeped all the way around the park, and the backstage area was packed with musical luminaries (including Spoon's Britt Daniel, making a stop on the way to his own show at Schuba's later that night) held captive by their heroes.

BEST LINE OF THE DAY: As Time Tuten tried to introduce Sonic Youth to a hostile crowd he said, "What are you going to do? Start a 'Middle-aged Riot?'" Sadly we think the joke was lost on most of the audience, but we thought it was pretty darn funny.

Photo of Sonic Youth's Thurston Moore by Jim Kopeny. See lots of pictures from Day 1 of the Pitchfork Music Festival at the Chicagoist Flickr page.

The air couldn't have felt better in Union Park for the first day of the Pitchfork Music Festival. The format of not having bands play all day the first day was perfect, it's nice to see the headliners sans really full porto-o-potties and there were far less people passed out for you to trip on. Seriously, those people are like land mines. Anyway, we will, of course, be bringing you in depth coverage and reviews of Pitchfork. But, here we thought we would give you a little eye candy. Here are some photos from Day 1.

See lots more pictures after the jump...

...for Frisbie’s New Debut. Masters of the turn of phrase and worshippers at the altar of harmony, Frisbie is back in full force. Things look a little different, and the elements have changed. The local band that seemed destined for stardom had some things to work out. Through all of the uncertainty and doubt, the growing pains and a very pregnant pause – Frisbie has come out better for the wear. But they haven’t remained untouched by it, either.

The band that released The Subversive Sounds of Love in 2001 had been left wandering a bit after the dissolution of its original lineup. A keyboardist leaving to attend to personal matters, a bassist striving to make his way in a restructured band. But the most notable shakeup was the absence of drummer, Zack Kantor. Unlike other bands where the drummer plays the important role of holding each song together with the backbeat, Frisbie had been blessed to have a drummer that also rounded out a trio of very talented songwriters.

Although Zack’s lyrics could sometimes be obtuse, the overall orchestration of his songs were engaging and often complicated, as a song took many different turns within the span of four minutes. They ranged from achingly poignant ("Whirlwind"), lively and anthemic ("Another Story"), sprawling and multilayered ("Blowin’ Up and Tellin’ Lies") to downright pop masterpieces ("I Know What’s In Store"). You never quite know what you’d get with Zack.

Unfortunately, the wide variety of output from Kantor sometimes translated into inconsistent behavior regarding the band, and he and Frisbie (the band) ended up parting ways. Frisbie released an acoustic album of Kantor’s songs in 2003, entitled period. It was the punctuation to the end of an era. Steve (Frisbie) and Liam (Davis) continued to play out as an acoustic duo, opening for acts like Andrew Bird, The Beautiful South and Evan Dando. Fans were happy for a glimpse, but what they were all asking was – Will the whole band ever re-form? Will they ever make a new record? They had songs they had not yet released – "Yes, Impossible," "Divisadero," "Vibration Man," "Two Fists of the Onion Girl," "Supertaster," "Pardon Our Dust". Maybe an EP?

Find out what happened to Frisbie after the jump...

It seems sort of cruel to make everyone get up so early tomorrow after a night rockin’ out to Spiderland, but we’re gonna give some reasons why it may be advisable to set that alarm and crawl out of bed for a few minutes to spend money.

The Cure has been one of our favorites since we picked up that Kiss Me Kiss Me Kiss Me album at the mall with our allowance money. We haven’t been as enamored with their latest work, but they have never disappointed us live. The price isn’t bad either considering what other bands who have been around the same amount of time are charging now.
Sept. 29, Allstate Arena, $50 - $65, all ages, on sale 10 a.m. Saturday

WLUW keeps us listening to indie music all day long. We should give them something back. How about attending a benefit on their behalf? Great bands, great cause…we don’t see why not. Canasta, Plane, May or May Not and Driftless Pony Club are the performers, but we’ll all be winners by giving to this great cause.
Aug. 10, Double Door, $10, 21+, on sale noon Saturday

If GZA leaves us wanting more, fear not for the Rock the Bells Tour is coming to town. Wu-Tang Clan, Nas, Talib Kweli, and more (twenty performers, two stages) make up this world class hip-hop event.
Aug. 26, Northerly Island’s Charter One Pavilion, $45 - $100, all ages, on sale 5 p.m. Friday

Seeing those fall dates is making us think that we haven’t done enough with our summer. This weekend’s Pitchfork Music Festival should help us get that first sunburn and then we’ll feel like we’re in the thick of it. Everyone have fun and be respectful out there this weekend!

Images via The Cure and Rock the Bells websites.

Everybody and their brother are listing out their day-to-day, act-by-act rundowns of this weekend's Pitchfork Music Festival. The thing all these folks seem to be missing, as they get dragged into the "do-as-everyone-else-does" pool, is that the festival has been sold-out for weeks so it's safe to assume that the folks that are going know what they're in for. We realize you've got to fill posts / columns / traffic-quotas, but c'mon, enough with the lists.

So we're taking the road (slightly) less traveled; we figure that festivals are ultimately all about personal choices, and the reason you go to them in the first place is because a number of acts have already caught your fancy. So, instead of going "see this band versus this band" or "1:00 so-and-so is playing (followed by a pithy three-sentence summation of their entire musical career," we're going to be selfish and merely tout the acts we're looking forward to seeing. (Funnel cake not included, although we're really looking forward to seeing that as well.)

Like we said, you've already got your ticket, so you already know who you want to see, right?

While most Pitchfork Music Festival coverage will undoubtedly focus on the headliners, we think it would be a shame to not mention our favorite part of the festival: the side stage. The Balance Stage, aka “the tent,” has been our escape at the past two Pitchfork-involved festivals. During the afternoon, much of the Union Park field is full of immobile patrons only half-interested in who’s on the stage, making walking around the festival a mile-long hipster obstacle course. Jump over the shirtless guy sleeping in the grass with his flannel over his face. Don’t run into the girl moving like molasses because her poorly planned three-inch heels are sinking into the ground. Weave between the two strung out hippie dancers to the side of the stage. Do not pass Go. Do not collect $200. Oh wait, that’s a different game.

Either way, while people are milling around the park killing time before The New Pornographers take the stage, we will once again take refuge in the tent. Yes, it’s hotter than a ball sack under the plastic rooftop, but it’s also a source of shade. Even better is that the stage is only about three feet tall, meaning the performers and the crowd share much of the same space, and the resulting atmosphere is much like a small club, rather than a large, often disconnected concert or festival.

This year the tent is not curated by dance-music enthusiasts Biz3, a fact that has some disappointed. Last year dance party rockers Flosstradamus and Diplo DJed sets under the tent, along with niche solo acts, such as Wilco drummer Glenn Kotche, who wailed on an elaborate kit for about 45 full minutes, and avant-garde instrumentalist Tyondai Braxton, now of Battles fame. But this year, the lineup is nothing to sneeze at. In addition to obvious hype-starters Girl Talk and Klaxons, the tent will be home to artists such as Ken Vandermark, Fujiya & Miyagi, Brightblack Morning Light and Dan Deacon.

Last year a lot of our fest mates were surprised with the frequency with which we visited the side stage tent and made comments like, “What tent? I haven’t seen any tent” or “The tent? Oh yeah, I never go over there.” But we know we're not alone in our love of the tent, as there are always interested festival goers hanging out by the side stage. But from our experience, to the majority of Pitchfork attendees, the tent is lost and forgotten. So we pose this post as a reminder that there are indeed three stages at the Pitchfork Music Festival. And if you’re looking for us, you can probably guess where we’ll be.

Biz3 tent photo is part of the Chicagoist Photos collection.

We couldn't go through this day without paying our respects to DIsco Demolition, a day that will live in White Sox infamy. Today is the 28th anniversary of the event (the You Tube clip included here was from the event's silver anniversary). There's not much we can add to the day, except to read the Wiki entry. Even that doesn't do the event justice to the chaos that ensued.

It wound up becoming one of the most outrageous baseball promotions in history and cemented the reputations of Steve Dahl and Garry Meier. We remember the acrid smoke; the hole in center field; the smaller bonfires started by fans; the calls of Harry Caray on the public address system pleading with fans to return to their seats; some guy running along the first base side of the field high-fiving, then punching, people in the seats; and the eventual forfeit of the second game. We were ten and the experience scared us into becoming Cubs fans for over twenty years after that.

What are your memories of Disco Demolition?

Last night Chicagoist was among a few hundred people who attended the Goose Island brewing facilities on West Fulton. The occasion was to celebrate the official launch of their new "312unes" music sponsorship program.

The concept behind 312unes is to show continued support of the local rock music scene while simultaneously promoting one of Goose Island's two flagship brands, according to Goose Island marketing director Darrell Jursa. "Goose Island has been supporting local acts for twenty years, and this is a continuation and expansion of that. We're the only craft brewery in the city, and '312' is a social lubricant. It just makes complete sense to pair the two together in a mutually beneficial partnership." With Goose Island's long-standing sponsorship of WXRT's "Local Anesthetic" show lapsing last year (replaced as beer sponsor by Coors Light?), it also allows Goose Island to be more selective in choosing what music and bands they support. Goose Island will be sponsoring six bands through the end of the year, supplying them with beer, swag, and increased marketing and promotion opportunities for their shows.

A perusal of the 312unes website puts this synergy into sharper focus. "312" is one of the sponsors of this weekend's Pitchfork Music Festival in Union Park. Additionally, the site's "Tune In" page lists Pitchfork ticket giveaways and upcoming shows at venues like Schubas and Empty Bottle. Goose Island plant brewers share playlists of songs they're listening to while working, and downloads from featured bands will soon be available.

Interested bands looking to take part of the 312unes program can email the 312unes "music czar" Joie Mikitson.

In the blog age of the hyper (and overhyped) search for the Next Big Thing, an artist’s shelf life as a “big deal “in the independent music world is dwindling to little more than one sold out tour and a trackback in year-end review posts. Gone are the days when one band set the bar for a genre and then completely redefined it, all to the great satisfaction of its fans and its critics alike. Stephen Malkmus and Pavement were that band in the pre-webzine 90’s, when college radio still crowned the princes of the underground and mix tapes were as close as most fans got to not paying for music. With his literary turn of phrase and knack for complex yet accessible pop arrangements, Malkmus was the prince of the last decade in which the music may have mattered more than how one obtained it or who paid how much to play it.

Since graciously stepping down from his throne with the announcement of Pavement’s indefinite hiatus after the Terror Twilight tour in 1999, Malkmus has released three albums of solo work with his backing band, The Jicks, and has performed as half of The Silver Jews (with poet, lyricist, and resident eccentric David Berman). While his post-Pavement efforts have never earned him the accolades bestowed upon his former band, fans attest to the joi de vivre that permeates Stephen Malkmus (2001), the darker yet comfortable Pig Lib (2003), and the basement-tape honesty of Face the Truth (2005). While it’s certainly a mind bending notion to watch and listen to such a rogue force in alternative music become a middle-aged family man, the passage of time has allowed Malkmus’ storytelling brilliance to breath and has offered him a number of opportunities to explore the breadth of his abilities. Being a torchbearer of a musical generation means that one gets to play with a who’s who cast of influential and groundbreaking artists, and since the millennium Malkmus has shared the stage with Thurston Moore and Kim Gordon of Sonic Youth, Chicago avant-garde maestro Jim O’Rourke, and former Sleater-Kinney and current Jicks drummer Janet Weiss.

The summer of 2007 finds Malkmus wrapping up the studio process on his fourth solo effort for Matador Records and making a lonesome, Jick-less stop in Chicago to play the third annual Pitchfork Music Festival. If the past eight years are any indication, the glorious mess of aural independence that proved pop music to be as diverse as the people who listen to it is still alive and well in one of its greatest champions.

Stephen Malkmus plays this Sunday at the Pitchfork Music Festival | 6pm

First we learned about Spoon's free show at Schubas this Friday, scheduled conveniently after Sonic Youth clears the stage at Pitchfork. Tickets are ambiguously hard to obtain, as they're only being given away via drawing from Schubas, Reckless Records or from WXRT. We were annoyed when we heard this, as we don't like jumping through hoops to get into a show. Call us old, but if we can't just obtain tickets through traditional means, we're likely to not attend the show. But we're a little disappointed we presumably won't be attending the Spoon show. We live for shows in small venues, which ensure you won't be crammed together like Blue Line riders at 8 a.m. and can get that up-close, more intimate experience necessary to really see a band play its instruments.

Today we learned that Ghostface is pulling a similar move of his own. He's making his way to a few venues around the country on a Scion-sponsored tour, playing FREE SHOWS. But of course, there's a catch. This time you don't have to enter a drawing; you go online and RSVP for the show. But what does the RSVP get you? Basically nothing. Although you can't get in unless you RSVP, the website clearly states, "Early arrival is suggested as space is limited" and "entry is NOT guaranteed." We're torn. We love Ghostface, and his appearance at Intonation last year is in our top 5 most memorable concert moments of all time. We're pretty sure security at Metro, where his Chicago show is scheduled, won't be lifting ladies in tube tops over the gates to ride the train, like they did last summer, but we know it will be one hell of a show. But is it worth camping out on Clark Street, hoping that our virtual RSVP gains us access to the show? Or should we just wait until he plays a "real" show, where you can just buy a ticket and show up like in the old days?

Are you tired of jumping through hoops to get into a concert, or is it worth it in order to get into an exclusive, free show?

Ghostface at Intonation photo via soundfromwayout.

When last year’s Pitchfork Music Festival rolled around, we were psyched to see most of the headliners, but Os Mutantes (“The Mutants”) threw us for a loop. While we’d long been interested in Cuban jazz, Brazilian Tropicalia was a new frontier for our musical palate. We weren’t disappointed in the reunion of the revolutionary band that had influenced such diverse Chicagoist favs as David Byrne and Kurt Cobain. It’s really no surprise that Tropicalia’s influence persists today – it’s both a musical movement and a reaction to the military dictatorship that ruled Brazil in the 1970’s, when siblings Sergio and Arnaldo Bapista and Rita Lee formed Os Mutantes. Tonight’s performance at the Metro is one of only four in the U.S. this summer, so get off yer bums and get a bit of culture with your rock.

Os Mutantes play Metro tonight with DJ Joe Bryl at 9 p.m. and tickets are $31.

The big dilemma of the week is just which ironic T-shirt to wear to Pitchfork, but some Chicago bands have their dreams set on attending a different upcoming music festival. The voting for the third round of the Lollapalooza Last Band Standing Contest only lasts two weeks, and the Top 5 vote-getters will compete live at the Double Door on August 1.

Out of the 20 artists still left in the running, six claim Chicago as their hometown. That’s not too shabby. The band on the bubble is Red Line District (as of this writing, only 64 votes out of 5th place ... ack, now it’s 65 ... 66). Take a listen to their debut single “No One Likes Superman Anymore,” and give 'em a nod if it tickles your ear.

The rest of the Chicago contingent — Shock Stars, Helicopters, Animate Objects, The Dirty Rooks, and NORTHPILOT — are begging for votes, too. Only one vote per email per day is allowed, which doesn’t really allow for the Chicago "vote early, vote often" reputation, but we can figure out something to stack the odds in these bands' favor and have an all-Chicago rock-off. Lollapalooza made Chicago their home for a reason; we think it’s the great local music scene. Well, that and the humidity.

As music writers, we get the opportunity to hear a lot of stuff that flies under the radar for the average fan. There’s a little sense of pride in having a friend stop cold in the middle of a sentence, point to our car stereo, and ask “Who is this? This is really cool!” Never have we had that happen more often than when playing Jim Bianco’s 2004 release, Handsome Devil. Recorded with a 19-piece big band, including members of the LA Philharmonic Orchestra, it’s a brainy, wildly creepy concept album about the disturbing power of the male libido. Weird, right? But it works, and if Elvis Costello and Serge Gainsbourg had a “what-happens-in-Vegas-stays-in-Vegas” kind of weekend with Tom Waits, Handsome Devil would undoubtedly be the soundtrack. It’s full of boozy, New Orleans-jazz tinged ballads and rollicking ragtime pop numbers, each one dripping with a come-hither sarcasm that makes you feel like Bianco’s got a few riverboat gambler’s tricks up his sleeve.

Chicagoist has seen Bianco play in dives and halls from Chicago to Austin and New York to LA, with a band and without, on sizable collaborative tours and on lonesome one-sedan jaunts across the country, and we’re yet to be disappointed. Besides a knack for high-level eclectic songwriting, this is a guy who knows how to work a room. We dragged a couple of skeptical pals out to the first edition of Bianco’s solo tour with veteran LA songwriter Gary Jules last fall, and they couldn’t stop talking about how he had the entire music room at Schubas chanting “The devil made me do it…” in one collective seductive whisper as he prowled through the rows of chairs, telling song-stories in his trademark ashtray growl. Here’s hoping for a reprise of that refreshing kind of concert experience tonight.

Jim Bianco plays Schubas tonight, Gary Jules headlines | 9pm | $12

Since our hipster cred went down the drain last night when we saw The Police at Wrigley, we decided to just join the ranks of our parents and give up. The on-sale listings from Ticketmaster confirmed this for us when all we found were shows at the Paramount Theatre in Aurora. Shows that would have excited us about forty years ago, but who's to say grandpa and grandma don't deserve a great night out.

The Paramount is having a Pre-Sale Party tomorrow (July 7) that allows one to buy tickets before the public on-sale date of Tuesday, July 10th. At this party there will be giveaways and the ability to not have to pay service fees on ticket purchases. Also, they have incentives for purchasing more than one group of tickets. If three shows are purchased preferred seating is gained, for five or more shows purchased discounts take effect, as well. Who do we get to choose from? Mannheim Steamroller, Wayne Newton, Herman's Hermits, Steve Lawrence and Eydie Gorme, or the Glenn Miller Orchestra.

Well, we would have rather told everyone that the Hideout Block Party's tickets are on sale with Bloc Party, The Frames, Andrew Bird and Mucca Pazza slated to play, but that would have been seen as an act of desperation to try and regain our hipster label. We would never stoop that low. The annual block party will be held September 7-8 and two-day passes are now on sale for $35.

It's the weekend and we're ready to barbecue again, crack open that beer and start reminiscing about the good ol' days when music was MUSIC, not this crap they have for our consumption today. Nah, give us today's music anytime.

Image from the Paramount Theatre's website.

The Hideout plays host tonight to two of Chicago’s brightest independent collectives, Skybox and Plane. The latter have been on the Chicago and national radar since their 2004 album Shake My Ground debuted at #42 on the CMJ charts, but the going wasn't as smooth after that. Fans and critics alike were puzzled by the alternatingly hooky pop and quizzical experimentation on 2005’s follow up EP, Hello More. Never fear, however – Plane has clearly confirmed their flight plan with this year’s I See Love In The Future, a successful amalgamation of all the tweaking and knob-turning with the band’s pop prolificacy.

Skybox are finally settled into their new home of Chicago, having relocated here as a band last year from Arizona. The band’s quirky pop songs have that endearing quality that would be equally at home on indie internet radio or on the soundtrack to a good date movie. In a word, they’re versatile, having struck a chord with hipsters and the all ages crowd alike. A plug on celebrity gossip king Perez Hilton’s site several months ago and a mention in Billboard Magazine didn’t hurt their profile, and has allowed the band considerable recognition outside of Chicago.

Skybox and Plane play the Hideout tonight | 10pm | $8

By now the holiday hangovers should have subsided, and you're figuring out how to once again ruin your liver and make some bad decisions. If that's the case, we have one suggestion: go to Debonair Social Club tonight.

The main attraction is Wisconson-based white-boy rapper Juiceboxxx, a dude who sounds like a Casio keyboard version of Spank Rock, with more of a "everybody jump and sweat" message. One can only hope he plays ALL FOUR versions of his epic "Thunder Jam," a single quickly gaining on "Trapped in the Closet" for the coveted title of Most Sequels to a Song.

Juiceboxx is preceded by Hollywood Holt, Local Hero, Mano and one-man hype show Matt Roan. And in addition to the free entry, there's a hosted vodka bar from 9-10 p.m.

So, there you have it. Hipsterfest 2007 -- going on tonight in The Crotch. The forecast is for lots of tight pants, at least one dude stripped down to tighty whities by midnight, and an excess of photos that look like this.

Myopenbar.com hosts the Going.com Chicago launch party, featuring Juiceboxx, at 9 p.m. tonight at Debonair Social Club, 1575 N. Milwaukee Ave.

Juiceboxx photo via dayvidday.

EDIT: We've just been informed that the party is RSVP only, but the RSVP list is open to the public.

Now that Spidey 3 and Transformers have opened and iPhone mania is starting to subside, it’s time to find a new place to direct all that geek-out energy. Enter Chicago Tap Theatre’s latest storybook show, The Hourglass in the Stop-Time Chronicles, a CTT collaboration with comic-book artist Andrew Pepoy. Fans of the genre don’t need to be reminded that local boy and Loyola grad Pepoy has inked Spiderman, Superman, Batman, and The Simpsons comix, among many others.

Now that we have your attention, Hourglass follows a super heroine coming to terms with her powers (hmm, sounds familiar) as she confronts an evil trio—Killjoy, Dance Macabre (pun intended, we’re sure) and The Conductor. Like last summer’s otherworldly tribute to David Bowie, Changes: A Science Fiction Tap Opera, this show requires the suspension of disbelief as dancers syncopate the ultimate clash between good and evil. But Pepoy’s involvement promises more-fully developed storylines and that childlike sense of wonder that draws droves of grown men (and modest packs of grown women) to Comic-Cons. He’ll be attending tonight’s opening, signing show posters, fielding compliments and possibly humoring a few overzealous fan boys.

Dance fans who could care less about comics, take heart—CTT Artistic Director Mark Yonally is working overtime, performing his own choreography in Hourglass and improvising with jazz ensemble The Rhythm 4 Thursdays through the end of July at Mary’s Attic. We got a taste of this winning combo this spring in Mixology; they’re bringing some extended jams for fans of tap and jazz turned away from those sold-out shows.

Aspiring photographers and videographers who could care less about jazz, take heart—Hourglass performers will dance overtime at the July 13 performance for you to capture and post on Flickr, YouTube, and their lesser-known competitors. Photo and film judges will pick winning entries, whose authors will receive a free class in Photoshop (photo winner) and After Effects (film winner).

The Hourglass in the Stop-Time Chronicles runs Fridays-Sundays through July 29 at the Athenaeum Theater Studio 1, 2933 North Southport. Tickets are $15-25. More information and tickets available at www.chicagotaptheatre.com.

The Rhythm 4 with Mark Yonally performs Thursdays, 8 p.m., at Mary’s Attic, 5400 N. Clark St., through July 26. Cover charge of $10.

We've struggled long and hard on just how to approach this review of last night's Police show at Wrigley Field. On one hand, we are unabashed fanboys who believe the core trio of Sting, Andy Summers, and Stewart Copeland, can do no wrong. On the other hand, there were obvious chinks in the band's armor.

So let's get the negatives out of the way first.

For most of the show, The Police seemed to be playing through a viscous fluid, with most of their songs' rhythms being just a half step behind the pace our memories had set. And, to be sure, there was far too much Sting-ish noodling early in the set. "Walking On The Moon," three songs in, had our hearts racing as we believed the band had finally found their pace, only to have our hopes dashed as the composition spun out of control and slowed to a snail's pace amongst the group's jammy tendencies.

(And here is the point that we acknowledge, begrudgingly, that the backing vocals for most of the evening were handled by tapes obviously pre-recorded to reignite of Sting's younger days and broader vocal range.)

So let's say this here and now, and then move on to the more thrilling moments: The Police are a much older band, that gave in to the temptations of stadium excess — be it call and response or extended bass / guitar solos — and you have to be forgiving of that going into the show.

But when they were on, they were on.

Sting, although nearly bald, was almost a dead ringer for the fellow that last toured with the band in 1984. Stewart Copeland was still a monster behind the drum kit, leaping from level to level to handle xylophones, auxiliary percussion, (over-the-top) gong duty, and everything that propelled the group's sound. How that man kept up the pace he did is still beyond us, and should put just about every other modern percussionist to complete shame. Andy Summers was the most static of the three, but he still effortlessly drew out the reggae-pop chords that helped propel the group to the top of the charts in the first place.

We think even our grandfather knows The Police are playing Wrigley Field tonight, and he lives in South Texas. Their two-night stand in Chicago certainly wins the award for most hyped show of the year (and we've definitely been guilty of adding to the pre-show buzz). Even though tickets have long been sold-out, enough people bought extra tickets ahead of time in hopes of making a profit that the re-sale market for tonight and tomorrow's tickets is definitely bursting at the seams, so we're betting that ordinary folks might still be able to get into the shows for a reasonable price.

If you can't get in to see the original trio that doesn't mean you have to stay completely off memory lane. Across the street the Police Cover Up is taking place at Cubby Bear. We know, we know, we loathe Cubby Bear too, but sometimes they do put on a show that makes it worth trekking through the crowds of puking frat boys, and tonight they have one of those shows. A whole bunch of local bands have gotten together and will be performing Police covers before and after the actual show at Wrigley Field, thus giving displaced hipsters / oldsters like ourselves somewhere to congregate and take in some genuine entertainment instead of bemoaning the fact that every tap seems to run only with Bud Light.

We've spoken to the event's organizer, Paul Farahvar, and he's assured us that the bands performing aren't going to just deliver rote note for note renditions of the songs. Sting, Stewart, and Andy will be in charge of that task across the street, so we're counting on the local acts to make the covers their own. We're especially looking forward to The Cells reprising some of the selections performed at a legendary Halloween Double Door show a few years ago (any chance of a go at "Synchronicity II" boys?).

We're a bit mystified that anyone is paying attention to the new Billy Corgan solo jawn Smashing Pumpkins album. OK, not really. Though Corgan has been largely written off as a joke in recent years, there is no denying his influence over the direction music took in the '90s. He led a band that appealed to everyone from gloom and doom goths to mainstream Abercrombie & Fitch-lovers by playing the disaffected heartstrings that lay within every teenager. Some blame him for the commercialization of the Alternative Nation, but we feel those folks are just griping because Corgan had the gall to reach for superstardom while admitting that was his goal all along.

The real reason Corgan has fallen so far out of popular opinion is because when he stopped writing compelling music, he blamed his fan base for no longer "getting" him, pulled a Ziggy, and broke up the band.

It certainly didn't help that he announced the resurrection of the Smashing Pumpkins on the same day he released a solo album that was, to put it kindly, abysmal.

Much has been made of the fact that half of the original band isn't included in the reunion, but let's be honest; Corgan played just about everything on every Smashing Pumpkins disc except drums, and live neither James Iha or D'arcy Wretzky were exactly what we would call assets. No one seems to remember that the Pumpkins were a particularly terrible live band and all the magic (and we will grant there was some magic) happened in the studio.

So that brings us to the new Smashing Pumpkins album, Zeitgeist, that drops next week. It sounds like, well, the Smashing Pumpkins. At the same time, it sounds pretty bereft if the old inspiration that made Corgan's over-the-top theatrics stomachable in the first place.It ain't bad, it ain't good, it ain't ain't ... it just is. Corgan is no longer the hungry, ambitious, angry young man out to make every schoolyard bully that ever gave him a wedgie crawl up to him and lick his boots. The fire just isn't there. Instead we get a collection of songs that sound an awful lot like The Smashing Pumpkins without ever convincingly escaping the long shadow the band originally cast.

Corgan wanted to change the world, and he did, so it's not surprising that his re-entry into music under a familiar brand name should feel slightly washed out this time around.

Image from Smashing Pumpkins website.

There’s been a subtle shift in Chicago’s independent music scene over the past year. As bands like The Ponys, The Changes, and Bound Stems are out of town more often in accordance with their newfound national attention, other hardworking bands are stepping up to establish themselves as the foundation of the city’s new music community. One of the leaders of this pack is Cracklin Moth, who has built a following on the strength of a critically acclaimed 2005 EP, and a propensity towards great pop songwriting with a poignant undertone. Throw in some buoyant twang to keep the feet tapping, and the accessible appeal of Cracklin Moth begins to take shape.

Frontman Matt Ammerman hails from the green hills of Kentucky, and the rolling terrain of his native state seems to shape his tunes with an easygoing loveliness. Moth’s got hooks to spare, and even the most jaded cool kids can’t keep their heads from bobbing along to the live show. Ammerman’s got a crack gang of players behind him, including pedal-steel whiz Rocco Labriola and rhythm section-about-town Griffin Baron and Shawn Rios.

The beauty of Cracklin Moth is that every song sounds familiar, yet there’s a freshness in the performance that reminds the listener that this band is fixin’ to be a big part of the future of pop music. Think the aural equivalent of your favorite sweater, the one that never loses your shape no matter how long it’s in the back of your closet, but always makes you feel like a million bucks when you put it on.

Cracklin Moth plays tonight at Schubas with Sarah Shannon (of Velocity Girl) and The Great Perhaps, 9 p.m., $8.

On Jenny Owen Youngs' website she states that she wants to be our friend. We think she'd be awesome to have beers with — her quick, deadpan wit combined with pop culture references would make for hours of hysterical conversation at the corner pub. Who doesn't want to have a philosophical discussion about their love of Avril Lavigne's pop until she used the word prance in a rhyme scheme?

Well, when it comes to witty banter Jenny had it down at Schubas on Sunday evening. When it comes to performing her songs, it seemed like they were an afterthought, something that she's used to doing at at the local coffee house where people aren't really there for the music and she needs to catch their attention some other way. This is sad because there are moments when her voice is completely gorgeous, but only moments. We know that every performance can't be a gem, and even Jenny absentmindedly joked that she wasn't having the show of her life while picking at her guitar trying to jumpstart the memory of how to play her own songs.

Conversing with the audience in her breathy delivery and revealing her personality through self-deprecating stories, we get the feeling that Jenny was that girl at the open mic that had her potential recognized and sent on the road to give her time to hone her skills. Sometimes potential isn't enough when it comes to putting on a great live performance. We still think she'd be an awesome friend, though.