Austin Good

Brain and body hurt.

More later.

Weekend in ATX

This weekend I'm flying down to Austin for a few days. No big event, no holiday or music festival or anything, just a weekend visit.

Spoon is playing at Emo's, and there are enough other shows over the course of these 4 days to fill a year's calendar here in Boise. So I'm really looking forward to it.

But the question remains: Must I wax nostalgic every time I go back to Austin for a visit?

There must be a reason I do this. There's the history I have there, sure, but it's more than that. Austin the city seems rooted to cultural traditions, histories, characters, styles, and legends more so than many other places I've been--bigger places and smaller places alike.

That, in a sense, is what I miss here. And it's not just my own lack of history here, it's the lack of a sense of something larger. We're all traveling in our own temporary sports-fueled bubbles, unconnected to anything larger than ourselves or our activities. It seems thin and temporary.

I must remember: These are rose-colored glasses I'm wearing, looking at the present through this idealized vision of the past. I moved for reasons. I'm not still there. Thing is, for the life of me, those reasons don't seem so significant right now.

Snowden

Snowden kicked the Neurolux's ass on Friday night.

We showed up a bit late, around 10pm. That's only late because on weekends rock shows there go from 8 to 11, with the DJ set after. Seems sort of stupid, but really it works out pretty well. And sometimes the DJ is actually pretty good.

Anyway, we got there, and the joint was damn near empty. A few folks at scattered tables, a few more out front, and a couple more at the bar. I figured we missed the show for sure, but the doorman said they hadn't started yet. No opener.

It seemed weird that there were even a few people playing ping pong right in front of the stage. "Maybe that's the band," I said to Cathy. And it was.

Snowden finally took the stage just after 10, and I was once again embarrassed for Boise. Cool new band, great new album, and an honest-to-god Friday night booking, and this is the best we could muster? Pathetic.

Snowden rocked. From note one, they were big sounding and hard working. The lead singer was all intensity, and the bass girl was just perpetual rock motion. And hot as hell, too.

Over the course of their 45-minute-or-so set, they brought the kids in off the street and made everyone in that bar pay attention and then some. It went from me and about 6 others getting into it to a full stagefront area and a decent crowd yelling loudly for more. The band was as surprised as I was pleased, and by the end my shame turned to a hint of pride. If Boise didn't know ahead of time that they should see this show, at least, by the end, they knew they'd watch for the band next time around.

TVOTR Return to Cookie Mountain

With their second full-length release, TV On the Radio have put themselves into a small class: They've met and surpassed extremely high expectations. And this even after a label change.

Their new one, Return to Cookie Mountain, is just amazing. The essentials are still there: fantastic beats lay under intricate guitar and electronic sound collages all of which serve and enhance the vocal interplay, which itself grows more complex but natural with each outing.

But there's more.

There's an urgency to the music that is not simply loudness or politics or overstatement. It's in the fundamentals of the compositions themselves, in the interplay between lyrics and sounds, all driven home by the beats. Always the beats.

This record leaves no doubt that this band is most definitely due the hype they get. They're doing something special, creating a kind of music that speaks to rock and dance but exists as something all its own.

Get it.

Hells Yeah

Mr. Tom Danielson comes up good at the Vuelta.

He went in with big expectations, and had some trouble in the opening weeks. The early mountain stages didn't go as well as they'd hoped, and youngster Brajkovic looked like the strongest on the team. And Triki Beltran's been doing a hell of a job as well.

But Danielson has ridden himself into form, it appears, and he took a big mountain stage win ahead of Vino. No small shakes, that.

Things are looking up for Disco Boys, 2007.

(photo from VeloNews)

5 Years Later

It still grabs at you, infuriates, saddens.

Politics aside, are we safer? Better off?

We have much more work to do.

The West is Burning

There are 25 fires burning in Idaho right now.

25.














Here in Boise, it's like winter's hit early. It's not cold, but an inversion has trapped fire smoke in the valley, and we live under and in a cloud of it. Outside, it smells like campfire all day.

The Rattlesnake fire is perhaps the closest, burning in the Payette up near Garden Valley and Crouch. It's still some miles from inhabitants and not posing immediate danger, but it sure is smoky.

The heroes of summer are out there knocking themselves out to squash these blazes. The rest of us stay in town and bitch about our throats hurting when we ride our bikes.

What we need is a big nasty downpour, Texas-style.

Orchard Gulch

It's been a nice quiet Labor Day weekend here in Boise.

Left to my own devices due to an unplanned family gathering in DesMoines, I spent the weekend prowling the roads and trails and waterways in and near our town. No big road trip to Wyoming or Coloradio this, but it turns out nice nonetheless.

I got the long road climb in, I got a long dog run in, and I got an afternoon's worth of fishing in, so the only thing left was to hit the trails.

This morning I headed up Rocky Canyon Road for my new favorite 2-hour loop. Up to a mile from the summit and break off at Trail 7, Orchard Gulch. This is newly connected to the new path up 5-Mile Gulch, and it's a really nice ride. A steady climb leads to a few tough pulls before more false flat meandering along the contour, and then you're connected to 5-mile.

The top of this descent (or the middle, excluding the way up to the Ridge Road) is fairly steep and narrow, a blast in good shape and a nerve-wracker in bad. Today it was powdery; I went slowly.

When you hit the old trail, down in the true gulch, the going gets fast. A gentler grade and a solid skinny trail, this thing just invites speed and air.

Out to the road and down a short ways to the 3 Bears entrance. Then up and ouch. That climb after the descent always waked the thighs up quick, and the middle bear always gets me worst. But I stayed upright and clipped in and grunted and squatted my way to the top.

The view from the top of 3 Bears is always worth it.

Even when the air you're descending into is smog-filled. Fires ringing Boise have kept our air thick. I'm wheezy.

Another half hour downward bomb and it's back to the homestead.

Best One Yet

Excuse me for a moment while I brag about our garden.

The pics don't do it justice, but you'll get the idea. This is by far the best garden we've had since moving to Boise. The raspberry crop was staggering, and the strawberries gave us the best yield yet. Now we just have to figure out a way to keep the damned roly-polys out of them. (Who knew those cute little buggers could be so terrible?)

We had fresh greens for months, through two early crops.

The herbs grew like weeds, and we've still got more basil than we know what to do with.



And now, for the prime gardening time: Chiles and tomatoes and tomatillos. I picked 5 of the biggest, most fragrant and tasty poblano peppers off a single plant the other day. I made some enchiladas with poblanos and mushrooms and cotija cheese, topped with a pureed poblano and tomatillo salsa, and it was out of this world. The flavor those things kick out is amazing.

The jalapenos are coming along, as are the serranos, though more slowly.

We're getting the initial trickle of tomatoes, and we expect to be drowning in them soon.

And maybe most exciting of all, our 3 tomatillo plants are absolutely covered with the little paper lanterns that turn into fruit. I'd say inside a week we'll be pulling about a half pound a day off the plants. And they're GOOD.

A Lazarus Taxon

The new box set from Chicago post-rock killers Tortoise does what I've not been able to do on my own: It collects all the singles and rarities and remixes that have scattered like pearls off a broken string through the path of their career.

Some of this band's best stuff has come out on imports or limited pressings, and a few pieces of the puzzle have become near impossible to come by.

Lucky for us, then, that they've done the work and delivered the goods in a gorgeous and shockingly affordable package. For less than $20, you get 3 CDs full of music plus a DVD of videos and live performances.

Better yet, order it from e-music.

While I haven't got to the DVD yet, I can say that the music is as fantastic as I knew it'd be. I mean, there's nothing terribly new here, but what is here reaches back a ways into the 90s and yet is as forward-thinking and remarkably played as anything else out there.

Gamera is a classic Tortoise track, going from minimal meditation to surging, gliding instrumental anthem, grand and beautiful.

Mike Watt adds a loose and jangly bass line to Cornpone Brunch on the final CD, for a moment if not of musical genius than of pure fun and joy.

Nobukazu Takemura's take on TNT is another highlight of the set, as are Tin Cans (Puerto Rican remix) and Your New Rod. But picking highlights is tough business here, as the pieces are so disparate, the sounds so unique and varied, that by the time you hit the remix heavy 3rd CD it's like the world's exploded.

Of course, if you're already familiar with their work, none of this will be too shocking to you. If that's the case, don't hesitate to grab this set. There's enough great stuff on here to satisfy you even if you have all the studio releases. And that's rare.

US Open Cup

It's awfully easy to not know this, but there's a very cool little tournament going on right here in the States called the US Open Cup. And as of last night, the field is down to 4 teams. One to survive is the Chicago Fire, a great team with a rabid fanbase who will meet up with DC United in the semifinals. The other matchup is the LA Galaxy and the Houston Dynamo.

If this interests you, check out this blog, Eleven Devils, a great site my buddy Dan Oko connected me to. Great information, solid editorializing.

The Fire match is on 9/6, and were I there in the windy city, I'd be going. Unfortunately my only option is to watch it online, which I will likely do.

I'm Not Afraid of You and I Will Beat Your Ass

While I'm getting googly-eyed about new music that's not out yet, let me also mention Yo La Tengo's upcoming release. It's called I'm Not Afraid of You and I Will Beat Your Ass, and early reports are promising--the perfect balance of their more recent soft balladry and their former long-form guitar freakouts with the middle range of perfect pop songs holding it all together.

If these reports are accurate and not just the work of some hysterical fanboys like myself, this could be the release of the year.

I've pre-ordered, and I'm supposed to be getting some super secret access to a player that streams the record, but I can't get the goddam thing to work and it's really pissing me off. So I might, actually, beat your ass.

Box Tortoise

Tortoise has released a box set. It's called A Lazarus Taxon, and really I can't think of many things more exciting than this. Remixes and singles and all the hard to find shit is here.

It comes out tomorrow. I pre-ordered weeks ago.

It's like Christmas in August.

Photoblog

Oh yeah, I bought a cool little digital camera. It's the Panasonic® Lumix® DMC-FX7 5MP. Very nice camera, about the size of a cassette tape case. So I'll be able to post more pics. Like this one, of Henry in his new favorite spot.



King of all he surveys.

Summer Creeps

And just like that, it's the middle of August. Since I've been so remiss in keeping this thing current, I'll take this opportunity to file an all-purpose update.

First, and most importantly, our man Tony has successfully come through what we are certain will be the final installment of his Brain Surgery Odyssey. It's been a long road and, much like the hero of this namesake adventure, he's come through it alive, strong, and a bit wiser, though not at all unscathed. It's obvious that his spirits are up, and that he's chomping at the bit to get back to active life, and I think that attitude will go a long way. I predict a remarkable recovery and metamorphosis from surgical patient Tony to bike-riding music-loving complete-cranium Tony.

As for the BCRP, the show version of Range Life is moving along quite nicely. I've not had a chance to set up my playlist blog yet, but I hope to get to that this weekend and get it up and running soon. Meantime, keep your ears on the webcast, as I'm putting new stuff in every single week. Recent arrivals include Erase Errata, Sonic Youth, some old Four Tet and Underworld I've just discovered, and some Austin goodies like Octopus Project and Voxtrot. Coming soon, and I'm so excited I may crap 'em, the new Tortoise box set, and the new release from Yo La Tengo. Wa-hoo.

The bikes are getting some miles put on them, but not as many as I'd hoped by this point in the year. Part of that is just because work and life have kept me from it, but part of it is my recent foray into flyfishing. A wonderful sport that I fully intend to pursue for the rest of my life. I'll get up to Stack Rock this weekend, and am planning a trip for Labor Day, so this will improve. Plus, I'm committed to doing the Leadville Trail 100 race, or the weeklong Crested Butte trip with brother Eric, or both, next year. So training will start in November.

What else?

The house is good, the garden exploding, and we're enjoying the fact that it's not above 100F here every day any more.

We're still distraught about Floyd, though not yet ready to pronounce him guilty.

I've yet to float the Main Payette this year, but I've spent good hours on the SF Boise, along with the MF Boise and the Snake. Nothing big, but to be honest that's ok with me. Last year's SF Boise debacle left more a mental scar on me than I'd suspected, so slow re-entry is appropriate.

The dogs are doing well.

Things are good.

Thanks for checking in. I'll bring this baby back to life very soon.

No News Is Proper News

Unlike every other shmohawk with a keyboard and a connection, I'm not revealing or discussing ongoing allegations into possible use of preformance enhancing substances until something is confirmed.

I can think of a few organizations who would do well to follow my lead.

The Return of the Floyd

Amazing. Just unbelieveable. There is no other way to describe what Floyd Landis did in the 17th stage of the Tour de France, coming back from what certainly looked like death to shatter the field and gain back most of an 8+ minute deficit.

He went from broken and done to the likely victor in Paris.

Amazing.

Metal So Hard

Rock fans, rejoice. The Sword is coming to Idaho.

I admit to a musical past filled with vicious guitar licks, at least one major time change per track, and images of Nordic mythology. I thought it was all behind me. The Sword, a band from Austin, TX, has thankfully proven me quite wrong. The metal resurgence in the last few years has not entirely missed me, but it took Age of Winters, this band's debut record, to make it mean anything.

Check out this short piece on them from The Austin Chronicle. Or their MySpace page, with music.

Sunday, July 16th, The Sword will play at the Bouquet here in Boise, ID. I'm not sure how they landed this show, but good-goddam for them, and for us. If you've got any traces of love for hard hard music left in your soul, don't miss this. "Metal so hard that it holds a razor sharpness even after repeated use in battle," indeed.

Butt Head

What an ending. Strange and disconcerting. Unfortunate, to say the least.

Zizou left the championship match under a cloud of confusion, anger, and sadness. We still don't know what Materazzi did or said to provoke the likely Man of the Match (and eventual and odd winner of the Golden Ball award) to drive his head into the Italian's chest, knocking him off his feet and to the turf. But it must have been something terrible.

Regarldess, the Cup has come to an end, with the Italians the victors. That in itself is enough to make this a sad ending, but to see Zidane go off the field as he did, not able to return for the medals, not able to wave goodbye to his legions of fans, is a crying shame. It was stupid for him to do what he did. Hopefully we'll find out what Materazzi said, because my hunch is that he acted shamefully. But still. Zidane should have risen above it and ended his career with the nobility it deserved.

Hey, isn't there a bike race going on?

Montany

It's tough to describe how wonderful our 4th of July weekend was. We spent it in the mountains around Livingston, Montana, at the cabin of John Works, boyfriend of our Austin friend Kimberly. The entire weekend--the fishing, the eating, the drinking, the boating, the hours of sitting and reading and staring at a view up the valley that warranted charging by the hour--was beyond any of our wildest expectations.

It was great to see Kimberly and John and to be able to hang out with them in such a relaxing, striking setting. We were up in the area of the West Boulder River, or one of the West Boulder forks or drainages, in the Absaroka Mountains just north of Yellowstone. We spent our days on or by or in the river, whether the West Boulder across the road from the cabin, or the same waterway further down where it widened out and rushed white over the rocks, or way further up, above a beautiful meadow and a set of waterfalls, in a stretch of pools that seem out of a fisherman's dream.

And we fished, too. I can see why people get into this flyfishing thing. I was lucky enough for my first experience to be in this setting with a guide and tutor as capable as John. He was insanely patient, giving up the good spots to both Kimberly and I, walking the banks and the water with me to point out the good spots, to teach me to read the water and to know where the fish tend to be, to know how to work my way through a stretch of water to catch fish.



The movements of casting, the silent flow of it all, combined with spending the day hip deep in a gorgeous river focusing insistently on the water and this looping line proved too much for my defenses. I fear I have yet another addiction. Time will tell, but John has seeded the cloud, as it were, handing over a gorgeous deep green fly rod, handmade in Fort Worth, TX, along with a very nice reel and a silver metal rod case. A business proposition, he called it, giving me the gear in exchange for my showing him the good spots when he comes to Idaho.



There was no refusing. A magnificent gesture.

So, besides the fishing and the hiking to fish and the constant play of the dogs in the water and the fields and the great meals full of wine and talk and relaxing...


...we attended a 4th of July picnic among other residents of the valley that made it truly feel like the 4th. I had a hot dog and a hamburger, plenty of beer, and then sat and listened to a couple of the folks pick out traditional tunes on guitars and sing. We joined in when we could. It was so America, so nice an experience.



All in all a wonderful trip. Relaxing and energizing. Sad to leave, excited to fish. On with the summer!