Monthly Archives: September 2009

U2 360 at FedEx Field: Faraway, So Close!

U2 get anthemic.  Photo by Martin Locraft.

U2 get anthemic. Photo by Martin Locraft.

And that’s just about gonna do it for writing about U2 this year, I think. My review of last night’s U2 360 gig at FedEx Field is up on DCist, with photos by Martin Locraft. Tough love = real love, y’alls.

And I gotta give it up to the Post’s Chris Richards for penning a funny and insightful notice on deadline last night.

Live Last Night: Pink

Pink

Never to break up with Pink! She’ll do an album about it (last year’s Funhouse), it’ll go platinum, and pretty soon she’ll be in the middle of 10,000 people at the Patriot Center, just like she was for two lusty hours last night, telling God and everyone how much she doesn’t miss you. Continue reading

Oh, and Did We Mention There’s a U2 Concert Tomorrow Night?

U2 2009

It’s true! If U2’s uninspiring performance of “Moment of Surrender” on Saturday Night Live scared you off, perhaps my Examiner preview, offering a bit of historical context for the 360 Tour, can win you back. Because U2 really, really need the attention.

I’ll reviewing the show for DCist. Meanwhile, my sometime colleague Catherine Lewis digs into the curious phenomenon of a cappella groups covering U2 tunes. She’s a braver woman than I am.

Shut up. You know what I mean.

Bigger than the Sound: Yeah Yeah Yeahs at the 9:30

Karen O at the 9:30 Club, 9.25.09

Karen O at the 9:30 Club, 9.25.09

DCist has my review of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ Friday-night 9:30 gig, but the real attraction is the phantasmagorical photography of The Artist Formely (?) Known as Information Leafblower, Mr. Kyle Gustafson, who shot the hell out of the show like he always does.

I wish the YYY’s were opening for U2 tomorrow night instead of Muse.

Discographically Speaking: U2 (part two)

Mr. MacPhisto & U2, 1993

Wherein on the occasion of U2’s latest ginormous roadshow descending upon our Nation’s Capital — well, Landover — your humble narrator attempts to quantify the relative merits of the U2 discography, minus live albums, compilations, EPs, soundtracks, side projects, mixtapes, or bootlegs.

Continuing from yesterday’s lesson RE: U2’s seventh through twelfth-best albums, we resume our countdown with No 6, after the jump.
Continue reading

Discographically Speaking: U2 (part one)

U2

You might think that assessing the relative merits of every album by my favorite band since childhood would be no thang for a seasoned pro like me. That’s where you’d be wrong, Bono — er, boyo. Rating the U2 catalogue turned out to be as difficult and time-consuming as it is pointless.
Continue reading

“Died Young, Stayed Pretty” at the Corcoran

Austin poster designer Rob Jones in Eileen Yaghoobian's documentary, "Died Young, Stayed Pretty."

I chatted with artist and first-time documentary filmmaker Eileen Yaghoobian for a piece about this week’s DC premiere of Died Young, Stayed Pretty, her movie about gig poster artists. I’ve written about our local gig poster scene here in DC more than once, so it’s a subject close to my heart, and her flick is a lot of fun. It screens Thursday night at the Corcoran Gallery of Art. Details here.

Firecracker, Firecracker: Yo La Tengo at the 9:30 Club

13-Yo-La-Tengo

Last night was my first time seeing Yo La Tengo, the second-most-famous musical institution out of Hoboken, NJ. Head over to DCist for the review, with photos by Francis Chung.

Dan Deacon brings his “Explosion Show” to a Building Near the Washington Times Building

DAN DEACON by Josh Sisk

I did a little preview of Dan Deacon’s free show in Kenilworth tomorrow as part of a weekend-long KIA Motors promotion that also features free gigs by Wale (tonight) and MGMT (Sunday).

Live Last Night: Son Volt at the 9:30 Club

James Walbourne isn't pictured.

James Walbourne isn't pictured.

‘Scuse me, son, but I haven’t seen you hanging around with Chrissie Hynde lately?

Indeed. The pale, intense young fellow stage right at last night’s robust Son Volt gig at the 9:30 club was one James Walbourne, the British guitar prodigy whose serrated-edge leads make the current, boot-cut incarnation of The Pretenders so much fun. He’s even more valuable an addition to Son Volt, whose solid but often grayscale tunes — which aspire to be the iPhone era incarnation of Woody Guthrie’s dust-bowl ballads — tend to need the extra hooch more than Hynde’s do. Continue reading