Entries from December 2008 ↓

I'm not a big fan of lies, or damned lies, but boy do I love me some statistics. If I can quietly keep track of what's going on and then get numbers and percentages and graphs (especially the graphs), I will be happy.

Last.fm is a perfect example of a site that is doing it right. For all that iTunes records play counts and dates added and whatnot, all of that becomes useless as soon as a hard drive dies without the iTunes database being backed up properly, or when I use it on different machines that aren't synchronised.¹ Last.fm, though, provides me with not only proof of my listening habits (with graphs!), but also a whole lot of data about other people's! Combining statistics, music, and spying on people using the internet - could any site be more perfect? The Last.fm staff would probably call this "community-building" rather than "stalker-enabling", but to each their own.

To tell the truth, the social aspect of Last.fm has never really taken off for me (I can only keep up with so many social-networking-web-2.0-buzzword sites) but sometimes it's just what I need to save me from myself. Witness what I have been listening to for the last seven days:

In tangentially-related statistical news, I love all the intriguing information (and graphs!) that Google Analytics gives me for this blog. The vast majority of the search keywords bringing people here are, unsurprisingly, Mountain Goats related; this has also been bringing in the spam-bots, with a good 25% of spam comments since the blog's inception coming in the last week or so. There have been a few surprises, though, such as:

cack handed anathem
Not sure why two people were searching for this. I also don't know how they got to me using this search; I can manage it using "cack handed" +anathem, but the keywords on their own generate pages of results for "anthem" and "anathema". One of the internet's great mysteries, I guess.

exceptional skeleton price is
No idea why anyone was searching for this. Did they really expect the internet to tell them what an exceptional skeleton price is? And is that the price for an exceptional skeleton, or an exceptional price for a skeleton? Why did they even include "is" in the search?

gene wolfe john darnielle
I'm sorry, what? I don't even know who Gene Wolfe is. At least, I didn't until I looked him up just now.

Also, a map overlay showing what country visitors came from - and then what city, if I ask nicely - is just plain cool. So are graphs showing visitors vs. pageviews per visit, visitors vs. new visitors, and almost any useful or useless thing I might want to see. Nom nom nom.

1. Or when I finally find something to replace iTunes to my satisfaction and leave it forever. Any day now. Any day. [↩]

Thanks to the generosity of friends the last time I became officially older, I recently spent a gift voucher at Amazon, an establishment I had not previously patronised.

There was an exciting pile of cardboard boxes waiting for me when I returned from Melbourne at the start of this week, but the expected contents were quite outclassed by a piece of advertising material that had been thoughtfully included:

I wonder, do they really anticipate international demand for this product? From individuals who have purchased, among other things, a vegan recipe book?

After Wednesday night I didn't have any right to expect wonderful things for at least a month (maybe even a year!). Nevertheless, on Sunday night I found myself standing outside The Zoo, waiting to see the Mountain Goats for the second time in a week. How lucky!

I'd heard a radio interview the day before in which John Darnielle confessed to having strep throat, so I was more than a little nervous, especially as the Mountain Goats had played at the Meredith Music Festival just the day before. Perhaps surprisingly, it never occurred to me that the show might get cancelled; the foci of my fretting were:

1. Oh no, John is sick! Poor John. I hope he is not too sick and miserable. Aww, I just want to give him a hug.
2. Man, I hope he doesn't die or something.
3. If the show is horribly disappointing I am going to feel guilty for seeing them in good health in Melbourne.
4. Augh! Why aren't the doors open yet?

But eventually the doors were open.

Not having been to the Zoo before, I was very pleasantly surprised: despite the odd entry stairs which directed everyone past the bar on the way to the stage, it was a pleasingly lowbrow sort of venue with pool tables, dim lighting, grotty carpet on the stage, a "backstage area" with a graffitied door through which one could (and did!) spy on the performers, and no crowd barrier¹. Just the right sort of place to see the Mountain Goats.

The Support: Baseball

Surprised though I was that Baseball did not support the Mountain Goats as expected in Melbourne, after seeing them at the Zoo I think it is probably a good thing for me that they didn't. Not because I didn't like them - they were really excellent - but because I suspect that my companions at the Melbourne show would not have shared my enjoyment, and it's always less fun when someone is having too much less fun than me.

It's hard to know how to describe Baseball in a way that will do them justice. It certainly can't be done without the words 'punk', 'noise' and 'energy'; Patrick Donovan of The Age described them as "like the Cramps being shoved in a blender with the Dirty Three", which is as good a way as any to begin. Not the sort of thing I would tend to listen to when sitting around at home², but electrifying in a live setting.

Evelyn Morris and Monika Fikerle, both on bass guitar and drums³, with Ben Butcher one of the more subdued excellent guitarists I've seen, provide an unrelenting foundation for frontman Cameron Potts⁴ with his violin (which must be a tough piece of work, judging by the tattered state of its bow by the end of the set). Potts and Fikerle are the main vocalists, Fikerle's sometimes-ethereal, sometimes-biting lines an interesting counterpoint to Potts' squawks and howls.

Middle Eastern flourishes and an unflinching intensity make for a bone-crunchingly good time. I hope to see these guys play again sometime. An easy A.

The Main Event: The Mountain Goats

When John Darnielle walked out onto the stage it was almost anticlimactic; only the most subdued of responses from the audience, and the man himself looked a little the worse for wear. His fears and ours were soon allayed, however: after confessing that he was sick, and that doctors would probably tell him to cancel the show but he hated doing that, he played a few songs solo and acoustic to an adoring reception. As I described it more than once after the night, he loved us for being nice to him, we loved him for being John Darnielle, and it was just a room full of love. Probably a great relief for the man whose main memory of Brisbane from last time was of the room "bursting like an artery" after "This Year".

After a trio of older songs⁵ (which any Mountain Goats audience is sure to love, after all) and another wonderful rendition of "Black Pear Tree", John forgot how to play "Get Lonely" and opted for "Dinu Lipatti's Bones" instead. A surprise grower from The Sunset Tree, and not a song I would ever have expected to get live, this just highlighted the marvellous lottery that is a Mountain Goats show - a special lottery, where everyone is a winner.⁶ A couple of live performances have also cured my ambivalence towards "Thank You Mario But Our Princess Is In Another Castle", which is just a catchy little bit of loveliness.

Part of the way through "In the Craters of the Moon" (a song with which John has done amazing things on this tour), Peter Hughes and Jon Wurster burst onto the stage and joined in, natty as ever and inspiring John and audience both with a burst of energy. A couple of songs later, an unexpected announcement: Peter Hughes would be singing for a while! Now, I did not know what to make of this at all, and I must confess to more than a moment of doubt. Would this be embarrassing? Would my careful selection of a spot on John's side of the stage prove to be a bad idea? Would PPH singing be a worse one?⁷

Thankfully, the answers were "no", "no", and "oh, ye of little faith". After a slightly shaky start with "International Small Arms Traffic Blues", PPH hit his stride during "Love Love Love" and then absolutely slaughtered "See America Right" and "Palmcorder Yajna". The former was possibly the most fortuitous setlist substitution I will ever have the privilege to witness: "Moon Over Goldsboro" was down on the list, but I defy anybody to believe that "See America Right" PPH-style is that song's inferior in any way. Your love is like a cyclone in a swamp, and the weather's getting warmer!

Throughout these delights John was hopping about with his guitar, mouthing lyrics and now and then stepping up to the microphone, interacting with the audience and generally having a grand old time. I was happy to see the pleasure he took in PPH's moment in the spotlight, as it would have been horrible if he had not been able to enjoy the show - and it confirmed for me, yet again, that he is indeed an Excellent Person with many qualities worth emulating. Have I mentioned that I want to be John when I grow up? That said, I am pretty sure that PPH would be the most awesome person in just about any other band he chose to be in, so in the end I just feel a bit sorry for Jon Wurster (who is an excellent drummer and brings a great deal to the live show, but was somewhat eclipsed).

Closing out the show with almost-entirely crowd-sung versions of perennial favourites "This Year" and "No Children", John promised Brisbane something amazing next time, ruling out only a naked show. He explicitly did not rule out "assless pants" (a commodity which he claimed could have saved the relationship of the Alpha couple), so look out Brisbane when the Mountain Goats are next in town.

1. i.e. The Zoo > Billboard. [↩]
2. Although, let's face it, that's what I'm doing right now. [↩]
3. Not both at the same time, mind you. They're good, but they're not that good. [↩]
4. Also known as "Thick Passage", for reasons which escape me entirely [↩]
5. "Elijah", "Horseradish Road" and "There Will Be No Divorce" [↩]
6. Apart from possibly the ill-mannered young law students behind me, whom I refuse to class as winners, but that is by the by. [↩]
7. New laws said that seventeen-year-olds could do federal time; you were the first one. [↩]

From rec.games.roguelike.nethack:

Eat what? a - the +3 blessed rustproof Magicbane
You stuff yourself and then vomit voluminously. --more--
Your intestinal flora are cancelled! --more--
You are starving to death even though your stomach is full! --more--
You die ...

"Your intestinal flora are cancelled!" That kills me. It really does.

Six nights ago was the most amazing night of my life to date, so I thought I might tell you about it. The beauty of doing so on my own blog is that I can ramble and digress as much as I like, so beware!

I will refrain from expounding at great length on the ridiculously high regard in which I hold Mr John Darnielle¹ and his band, because that is a whole tl;dr post in itself.² Instead, I will content myself with saying that I looked forward to seeing the Mountain Goats live for the first time more than can possibly be healthy, and I thank my lucky stars that I happened to be in Melbourne on the night of this show.

After some deliciously tasty pre-show dumplings and a congenial queueing experience, we³ deposited ourselves at Billboards ridiculous crowd barrier⁴ and used ephant's crutches to repel boarders, or perhaps just to passively discourage people from kicking and shoving us out of the way.

The Support: Teeth and Tongue

Although Melbourne band Baseball were supposedly supporting The Mountain Goats all over the country, on this particular night the support act was Teeth and Tongue. Not a band I'd ever be likely to encounter of my own volition (which probably says more about my musical myopia than it does about Teeth and Tongue), but pretty entertaining once I got into frontwoman Jess Cornelius' performance and managed to ignore the looming threat of wardrobe malfunction.

A quick look around the internet tells me that Teeth and Tongue is essentially just Cornelius' project, so the bassist and drummer on the night could probably have been anybody. Regardless, they provided a tight and surprisingly sludgy backdrop for Cornelius' charismatic and accomplished performance. I guess I'm not allowed to refer to her guitar playing as "shredding", as that term is surely reserved for something far more specific, but it was excellent; likewise, her vocal strength and stage presence, although I think a little less shyness and a little more unapologetic awesomeness would work nicely between songs.

Although it was suggested to me that the good parts were "when she wasn't trying to be PJ Harvey", I think her performance drew on several girl-stereotype-defying influences without being too beholden to any of them. Certainly a welcome change from the airy, pouty sort of indie-pop songstresses that have kept me in the XY vocalists' camp for most of this year. Jess Cornelius' band could beat up your bands, ladies.⁵

All things considered, Teeth and Tongue did well to distract me from my impatience and the clock, let alone make music I actively enjoyed. B+, would see again.

The Main Event: The Mountain Goats

The wait after the support act would have been excruciating had I not been ridiculously excited. Nobody seemed to remember what time the Mountain Goats were supposed to start playing, and at least one time the tinned music stopped, only to start again and dash all our hopes. Then, just as I was resigning myself to another fifteen minutes of waiting - ridiculous, portentous synth-orchestral music boomed from the speakers, followed by an equally ridiculous, tinny latin cheese number which heralded the arrival of the gentlemen of the hour.

A quick aside is necessary to exclaim over the sartorial elegance on display: drummer Jon Wurster and bassist Peter Hughes⁶ in natty three-piece suits (have they not glands?), and John Darnielle in a tremendous jacket with all sorts of sewn-on patches, including what I suspect were individual letters spelling out "SARCOFAGO" on the back. Despite repeated exhortations to "take it off!" (stay classy, Melbourne), the jacket remained until its ceremonial removal at the beginning of the encore.

The show itself was, of course, amazing. I hadn't been looking at setlists for the Australian tour, or the Last Happy Night Of Your Life tour in the US, so I had very little idea of what we would be likely to get apart from "probably a fair few songs from Heretic Pride". True to form, the Mountain Goats delivered a delicious smorgasboard of the old and the new, without breaking (much of) a sweat.

From the main set: "Have to Explode" (the opener) was a pleasant surprise, as was "September 15th 1983"; "Black Pear Tree", "Wizard Buys A Hat" (Wizard Buys A Hat!!) and "Game Shows Touch Our Lives" made me delirious with happiness; a cover of Mary Chapin Carpenter's "Here I Am", a song previously unknown to me, has been responsible for a Youtube tab in my browser for the last couple of days. These were the highlights, but every other song would have been a highlight of anyone else's show. That is how good this band is.

John's introduction to "In the Craters of the Moon" went something like this (paraphrased):

You know, one day you're going to look in the mirror and you will be like, "Who has stolen my mirror?" And then you will open the cabinet behind the mirror, and you'll be like, "Who has stolen my medicine?" But it's not really medicine. But I know what it is, and that's why I wrote this song for you.

We were also treated to the stories behind "Thank You Mario But Our Princess Is In Another Castle" and "Wizard Buys A Hat", some discussion of the Radiohead Model of music release, and assorted other delights.

The only thing more awesome than John's ability to stand on stage and chat to the audience about anything, guaranteed an adoring reception, is the pure joy that he emanates on stage. I am firmly convinced that John Darnielle performing is the happiest thing in the world.⁷ (Given the karate kicks and jumping around, the word "adorkable" may also be appropriate.) . Maybe that's the secret of his success: anyone who can tap their (not inconsiderable) well of personal darkness in such a celebratory manner is sure to find devoted fans among any group of people who have ever embraced their emotions. Or simply had emotions.

Especially pleasing was the brief interlude when Wurster and Hughes went offstage, leaving John and his acoustic guitar to play us a few songs (and even take requests, although some members of the crowd could have stood to make fewer). While the entire set was brilliant, it was certainly Heretic Pride-flavoured as a result of having live drums as well as bass. Very energetic and super engaging, but having missed out on all the earlier Mountain Goats shows I was glad to have the opportunity to take in a few songs, as they say, kickin' it old school.

And despite my unholy love for Kaki King, I have to say that John doing "Black Pear Tree" solo and acoustic is the definitive version of that song for me. Oh my. I caught myself forgetting to breathe.

That said, some of the older songs are amazing in their updated, punchier form. Oh yes, "Game Shows Touch Our Lives", I'm looking at you.

This is where I admit that I can't remember which of "No Children" and "This Year" was in the main set, and which in the encore. Maybe they were even both in the main set? Yikes. Well, whenever they happened, they were the all-singalong all-awesome extravaganza that any Mountain Goats fan would expect. Yay. (I think it was "No Children" in the encore. I think.)

So, the encore! After the last parading of the maybe-Sarcofago jacket, John grabbed his microphone from its stand, left his guitar where it was, and proceeded to climb on foldbacks, point at members of the audience, serenade a security guy into a false sense of security before climbing on the crowd barrier and hugging certain lucky fans, and generally give a five-star rockstar performance of "Houseguest", a song which is apparently by another band of PPH's.

Rounding out the encore were "No Children" (I think. Erk.) and a blistering rendition of "Palmcorder Yajna" that absolutely and irrevocably made this the best night of my life.⁸ Holy cow, but I love that song. I read elsewhere that "I Love You. Let's Light Ourselves On Fire" was also in there, but I hesitate to include it because I have zero actual memory of that from the night. Possibly due to a surfeit of awesomeness that led my brain to shut down entirely, but also possibly because it didn't happen.

I was not especially impressed with the venue, or with the behaviour of a few undesirable elements in the crowd, but none of that could take anything away from the wonderful night I had. I was too happy to sleep until at least two in the morning. I am still happy. Maybe I always will be.

1. Henceforth to be referred to simply as John, because obviously we are on first name terms since I listen to his music so much [↩]
2. One which I may eventually make, but given the tremendous queue of things I would like to write about and the ease with which items jump that queue, breath-holding is inadvisable. [↩]
3. I say we, but my uncouth insistence on doing what I wanted may have swayed the popular vote [↩]
4. A barrier? For the Mountain Goats? Please. John described it on the night as "like every condom you've ever worn, all at once." [↩]
5. However, she is not allowed to beat up Kaki King. No, sir. [↩]
6. Henceforth referred to as PPH, because I saw the cool kids doing that once. [↩]
7. And I have felt compelled to tell people this many, many times this week. [↩]
8. Okay, it already was the best night of my life, but this made it even more best. [↩]