Chris Milam

On the Move

noreply@blogger.com (Chris Milam) — Wed, 22 Jun 2011 15:25:00 +0000

In the words of John Lennon at the Maharishi's feet, "you again?!?"

Now, I'm not positive that's what Lennon said. I'm also not positive Lennon was ever "at the feet" of the Maharishi. I also can't confirm or deny rumors that "Maharishi" literally means "Man of Many Stews."

All I know is that I've stared at html for the last 45 minutes or 75 hours and my eyes ache and my brain hurts. Help me?

The New Blog Is Right Here

The Blog is moving to Wordpress. The big, final move will happen Friday, June 24. At that time, only this post will be visible at Blogger, and all past and future posts will not. So, what do you need to do?

1) Why, visit the new blog!
2) And bookmark its new URL!
3) And subscribe to its feed!

(Basically, update your bookmark and feed urls. There's also a handy-dandy guided tour of the new site over there, right now.)

But, PLEASE, make sure you do this:
4) COMMENT over there and let me know what you think!
5) Use the Facebook and Twitter buttons at the bottom of each post to let your friends see the new site's address.

First, this helps me because I know you've made it. Second, the commenting system is different over there, and I want to make sure it's not hassling anyone. Third, I want to hear your feedback! The whole point of the move was to make the blog easier to interact with--I want y'all in on the conversation. So PLEASE, let me hear it. And please, invite folks to the party.

See you over there!
CM

Song of the Week: Ray LaMontagne "Rock & Roll and Radio"

noreply@blogger.com (Chris Milam) — Fri, 17 Jun 2011 13:00:00 +0000

Before I dive into this week's song, a bit of housekeeping:

I'm in the process of transferring this blog from Blogger to Wordpress. I'm working out the kinks right now, setting it up at the new host, migrating content, etc. Friends, confidantes, and Wordpress techies assure me this can be done with minimal hassle and maximum continuity. In other words, don't worry: all past content, archives, and comments should be retained. The blog will just have a new url and, if you've subscribed to this RSS Feed, you'll need to update it. I'll give you that info soon.

The tentative date for the switch will be Friday, June 23. I'll post here Wednesday, June 21 with specifics for folks who want to update their bookmark/RSS feed/etc.

For what it's worth, I think this'll make the blog much more enjoyable for you to read. Wordpress simply does a better job of integrating the blog into the ways people really use this stuff: Facebook, Twitter, email, Google Reader, etc. The goal has always been to talk about music (my music, other artists' music, etc.). I think this will make it easier to us to interact.

NOW...

Song of the Week: Ray LaMontagne, "Rock & Roll and Radio"

Several weeks ago, Kings of Leon appeared on VH1's Storytellers. As an unabashed KOL fan, I found their episode fully entertaining and totally unnecessary (e.g. "this song's about our fans...it's called 'Fans'"). The next week, My Morning Jacket's Storytellers aired. Their performance was predictably great and weird (i.e. they only played one song--a non-single--off their new album). Then, last Friday, Ray LaMontagne told his stories.

Six years after first hearing him, I still can't gauge my Ray-fandom. I generally like him, but I don't own any albums. I know and admire a few specific songs, but have never sought them out. I never choose to listen to him, yet I never turn him off.

I'm telling you this because I was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed his episode of Storytellers. But as I watched, something occurred to me: what I like about Ray LaMontagne's songs is the same thing that I liked about his Storytellers episode. I enjoy his music less for what it is than for what it evokes.

Maybe the best example is Ray's voice: it's resonant and vaporous, solid but shapeless. It's full of ghosts and cobwebs. It's a wool blanket. It sounds like rain in the morning. And on, and on...and there's the key! Though he sings everything similarly (compare his voice song-to-song to, say, Paul's on "Michelle" and "Helter Skelter"), that one voice conjures up a hundred different things. He doesn't really change, but my imagination does.

I'm not minimizing this; it's a real gift. No other voice in pop music sounds quite like him. In fact, compare his speaking voice to his singing voice--he doesn't even sound quite like him. I don't doubt that his singing voice is natural and unaffected. But hearing him speak, I can't account for it. His voice is a microcosm of his total musical appeal to me. Watching Storytellers, I realized that his songs do the same thing over five minutes that his voice does in an instant: they evoke much more than they say.

I could get into the nuts and bolts of why I like "Rock & Roll and Radio." I could take it line by line, chord by chord, like I do with other Songs of the Week. LaMontagne is a thoughtful, adept songwriter. There's plenty in there. And I'm sure his superfans experience his songs this way. But I don't.

What I enjoy about his songs has everything to do with them vaguely, cosmically, intangibly and nothing to do with them really. They put me in a trance. You know the code word or snap of the fingers that puts people under hypnosis? That's the beginning of every Ray LaMontagne song for me. I hear those drum brushes shuffle and my mind runs. Here's how I experienced "Rock & Roll and Radio," roughly in real time. Step inside my head for six minutes. Follow along if you like:

This melody sounds like Joni Mitchell. Square beat against round, syncopated phrasing.

Sounds great.

It's slow. It sounds warm.

Solo acoustic stuff sounds wintry, but this sounds like summer. Sounds like midnight in June. I want to put this song on a CD and drive anywhere and nowhere. I bet it sounds good in that heavy summer air. I want to drive off and around the old Houston Levee, winding through the gnarled trees, the sharp curves, the darkening purple sky. I'll play it loud through those haunted backroads of my youth. I'll let it drift out my window, back through the moonroof, and out the other side.

Last time I drove those roads, rock n' roll and radio weren't strangers. Middle school, high school, college. I'd take the back way from Germantown to Wolfchase, the long way, the scenic way, woods all the way from here to there and back. I'd listen to 96X, or its successors and imitators, or some mix CD derived from it. I'd pass the landmarks. I'd drive nowhere and think about girls and think about music and pass familiar places.

That's where the Winterfest dance was. That huge mansion appearing out of nowhere in the tall trees. It looked new, but it also looked like part of the woods, that unsettled Cordova frontier. I never went to a Winterfest dance, but that's where it was. I met some friends afterward. Bad cologne mingled in the air, stagnated in the backseat of my car. Semisonic. There is it, that huge mansion--I can see it. Fewer trees now.

There's where those two juniors fought after school one day. Late in the school year, almost summer. One more week and they wouldn't have even had to.

There's the sudden, jagged curve where the accident happened the night I finished eighth grade. I can smell the honeysuckle there. I got outside one night and stood in the spot for twenty minutes and no cars came. It was the middle of the night in the middle of the woods, but the moon was bright. I could see. I only heard crickets, but they were deafening. And then in the car a minute or an hour or a year later, the Goo Goo Dolls on 96X. "Name" isn't really so different from "Rock & Roll and Radio." Sing it, Ray. Both have an acoustic guitar and both mention the radio. They're both about a girl. They're both about losing something. I could drive out there now with this CD in my car and park in that same spot. It might be as dark, but not as empty. Lights from condos nearby. The moon less bright.

There's the middle school, a four-legged brick spider. The corner window in the west leg--there was my seventh grade English class. I can hear "Champagne Supernova," and I'm back inside. That skinny brown-haired girl sang it by herself one day. She sat in English class before anyone else came into the room. She was usually loud but she sang it in a whisper. She didn't know I could hear her, didn't know anyone could. She was always laughing at something, but she had sad eyes. I don't know what I thought of her before or after, but for a second or a minute or an hour she sang "Champagne Supernova" to herself in an empty classroom and goddamn she was beautiful.

I could loop around the high school baseball field. That's where I played Pearl Jam's "Breath" on repeat one night in April. I listened to the whole Singles soundtrack on repeat that April. I never left it alone. I circled that park, didn't want to face the crowd.

There's the house we rolled in daylight.

Sing it, Ray. Oh man, this would sound great on the road tonight. I could let it ring through my car, driving past Shelby Farms. There's that stretch of road, wide open and technicolor green, no traffic lights, fireflies hovering over the grass in every direction, little lights circling, searching for nothing in the dark.

And then I'm playing flashlight tag in my friend's neighborhood. Listening to "Machinehead" before, sprinting through the backyards, hopping fences, shoes soaked in dew. Old neighbors complaining like they were never young.

But that's just for a minute. I'm back on Walnut Grove, cutting through Shelby Farms. There was that summer after college I took this road from Appling to midtown so many nights. I told myself it was to hear any given band, or to see any given girl. Now I think it was just to drive and hear "Sixteen," or "I Will Sing You Songs." Songs about loving music, and songs about girls, and loving songs about all of these things at once. The drive out was always my favorite, pointed west. The Clark Tower stood lonely in the distance, sun burning low on the horizon, night an open invitation, every point of light a possibility.

Christ, keep singing Ray. Cause the sky looks just like it did then, that deep violet after the sun goes down. It stays almost black for another hour. I remember that dark purple light best from my friend's pool, every Friday. We'd listen to 107.5. Tan, pretty girls, dogs chasing each others' tails. Ray's song doesn't sound like me being there then; it sounds like me remembering it now. Why is that? What is that?

This is a long song. Have I heard this before? It sounds so familiar. Another road, another road. I wonder what the girl in the song looks like. I wonder who he's really talking to. Sometimes I don't know. I'll get this song. I'll burn it to a CD and I'll go. I can go back. Let it wade through that heavy summer air, winding through the gnarled trees, the sharp curves, the crimson sky. I'll play it loud through those haunted backroads of my youth. Down every street I know by heart. Lap the miles where those woods used to be. Haunt those backroads and smell the wildflowers at the road's shoulder. Let the names of past loves ring out through my car. Whisper them to myself, hear them drift out my window, into the moonroof, out the other side. I can go back. I can go there right now, drive off before the night. Keep singing, Ray. The sun's just beginning to set. It's not dark. There's still time.

Another Cup of Coffee with Jeff Powell

noreply@blogger.com (Chris Milam) — Tue, 14 Jun 2011 16:55:00 +0000

For those just catching up, I do a monthly feature with the Vinyl District. I interview a different person in the Memphis music community: artists, sound guys, business people, superfans, etc. The idea is that, over time, we might see how all the pieces fit together to make something really special. It's called Another Cup of Coffee.

This month, I got to talk with Jeff Powell, ace producer and engineer at Ardent Studios. He's worked with everyone from Bob Dylan to the Allman Brothers, from Big Star to BB King, and just about everyone in between. As you might imagine, he's got a few stories.

So please, hop on over to TVD and enjoy Another Cup with Jeff Powell!

(Note: To read all the past Another Cups of Coffee, click here. You can stay updated on all my blog posts, here and elsewhere, by subscribing to the blog or bookmarking this page.

Also, if you'd like to subscribe to TVD Memphis, click here.)

Song of the Week: Dr. Dog, "My Friend"

noreply@blogger.com (Chris Milam) — Fri, 10 Jun 2011 13:00:00 +0000

One hot night a few Augusts ago, I stopped by my friend Steve's place. He had just moved into a new apartment in East Nashville and wanted me to see it. It was the upstairs unit of a big house on a beautiful tree-lined street in downtown's shadow. He was still getting things settled, but he had the important things unpacked: his bed, some stray food, and his record player.

Steve's a sound guy, and a music lover; he's one of those people who always has music playing in the background. If you visit him at work, he's been listening to something. If you see him at home, the turntable's spinning. I'm the same way, but 1) I know what I'm listening to and 2) I don't own a record player. That's one reason I always loved going to Steve's place, wherever it was: I usually heard something new, and it always sounded different (read: like vinyl).

This particular night a few Augusts ago, we talked while something spun in the background. It immediately reeled me in: I didn't recognize the songs, but I recognized the sound. The record's production was vintage--jangly, organic, and golden like so many folk-rock albums of the 60's and 70's. A little George Harrison All Things Must Pass, a little early Stevie, and a lot of something else. Tons of energy. Joyous background vocals. Multi-section songwriting, each part naturally easing into something new. A million different things--barroom keys, manic tambourines, harmonies and melodies swirling around each other--for the ear to latch onto. It sounded like a gorgeous old house filled with secret rooms and trapdoors. I'd never heard it before, but felt like I had.

"Steve, what are we listening to?"

"Dr. Dog. You don't know Dr. Dog?"

That particular introductory song was "Hang On." A few Augusts later, not only do I know Dr. Dog, I know all their albums, and I've seen them live (favorite concert of 2011 so far). I'm a big fan. Steve also introduced me to Delta Spirit, and the Thrills, and Josh Ritter, and who knows who else. Steve's got a great track record.

Song of the Week: Dr. Dog, "My Friend"

Dr. Dog has two main singers and songwriters--bassist Toby Leaman and lead guitarist Scott McMicken. Their albums are roughly split down the middle in terms of who sings which song and (I assume) who wrote that song. Whenever a band has two main songwriters, fans often pick their favorite. This is a descendant of a Beatles phenomenon, where fans self-identify as a "John Guy" or a "Paul Guy" or, semi-weirdly, a "George Guy." It's continued since. Some Uncle Tupelo fans preferred either Jay Farrar's songs or Jeff Tweedy's, ultimately picking sides when the band broke up and begat Son Volt and Wilco. Mark Arm and Stone Gossard from Green River begat Mudhoney and Mother Love Bone (eventually Pearl Jam); the former stayed true to a punk-purist songwriting style, the latter veered off into the pop world, and fans followed according to their own aesthetics. The list goes on.

Dr. Dog is lucky enough to have two gifted songwriters and lead vocalists that 1) share a vision for the band but 2) have their own perspective. I love "My Friend" because it's one of the only times we get two-songs-in-one from them: each guy gets a part.

The first half belongs to Leamon. It's an up-tempo rock groove, rhythm-driven, bouncy, syncopated, seemingly at ease. Lyrically, the song's both narrative and abstract. He outlines a friendship facing some issues, but we get more rumination than detail. A worried lyric belies the light-hearted music. This is a dichotomy Dr. Dog does very well, and very often: happy music with heavier lyrics. After a few repeated sections, they settle into a coda that fades into a lone piano track and some ambient train noise (2:57). This begins McMicken's section, which gives us more insight into this "friendship." His half of the song is more melodic and mid-tempo. But the background vocals at the end of each phrase ("don't give it up...") are the most uplifting moments of the entire song. It might sound less hopeful than the first half, but it is more hopeful.

The song's conflict (a friend trying to help another friend in trouble, and both getting lost in terms of what's best for each) is reminiscent of Pearl Jam's "Save You." By its end, we've seen both sides of a co-dependent relationship. The first half confronts a friend on the edge and negotiates dread and worry with a false, bouncy front; the second half offers hope in the face of some harsh realities. And as heady as all of that can be, here's why it's Song of the Week: it's fun to listen to. You can geek out to the meaning of the "train" in the song, its sneaky placement, its function in the lyrics, etc. Or you can just hear and love the exuberance of the background vocals ("won't go away...") played against a wonderful guitar hook. You can engage this song as little or as much as you like, and you'll still get something out of it.

Like the Beatles "A Day In the Life," it brings this band's two songwriters under one roof. It lets them use their own perspective, their own unique talents, to tell two sides of one story. As a concept, it's beautifully-executed. As a piece of music, it's just beautiful.

Song of the Week: My Morning Jacket, "Circuital"

noreply@blogger.com (Chris Milam) — Fri, 03 Jun 2011 13:00:00 +0000

There are probably 40-50 artists whose next album release I anticipate. There are probably 20-25 artists whose new album I will almost definitely buy at the time of its release. There are probably 8-12 artists whose new album I will buy sight unseen/sound unheard the very second it's available. That list, off the top of my head:

Bob Dylan
Radiohead
Pearl Jam
Lucero
Cory Branan
Outkast (if it ever happens)
White Stripes (probably won't ever happen)
Green Day
Tom Petty
New Pornographers
My Morning Jacket

Of those, there are artists I probably love more than My Morning Jacket. But I might anticipate a new MMJ album more than any other. This is mostly because, after twelve years and six full albums, I still don't know their ceiling. It Still Moves established them as a heavyweight, but Z and Evil Urges proved they still had room to grow, both artistically and commercially. As great as they are, I keep thinking their next album will be their best. And as popular as they are, I keep thinking their next single will be their mainstream crossover.

This week, Circuital came out, and I've probably listened to it twenty times since Tuesday.

A few stray thoughts about the full album before I dive into the Song of the Week:

1) I'm dying to know what other people (casual fans, diehards, and nonfans alike) think of Circuital. I immediately liked it--a lot--but haven't yet fallen in love with it. Anyone in love with it?

2) When Z and Evil Urges each came out, a lot of reviews called My Morning Jacket "America's Radiohead." I've never understood that comparison, mostly because "America's Radiohead," if anyone, is clearly Wilco. To wit:
--Both are bands from the 90's
--Both have evolved greatly through the years
--Both have massive, rabid, tech-savvy fanbases
--Both have experimented with different marketing techniques for their releases
--Both are obsessed with technology's impact on modern art
--Both are hugely popular yet still viewed as critically unassailable

The analogy works, right down to the fact that the British version of a given idiom (here, experimental-yet-still-popular-enough-to-fill-an-arena-rock) is often more commercially successful than the American version. For some reason, Brits know how to sell albums back to us better than we do. Mumford vs. Avetts. Etc, etc.

Really, My Morning Jacket isn't "America's anyone." Sure, I hear Radiohead's influence. I also hear Neil Young, and 60's girl groups, and the Muppets, etc. But on Circuital? I hear the Who. I hear a lot of the Who. Which brings me to...

3) What I hear the most listening to Circuital is another deeply layered, heavily melodic, organically-produced, ultimately underrated record by another Who-a-phile band: Yield, by Pearl Jam. My Morning Jacket has always had a lot in common with Pearl Jam, enough that they've made natural tourmates in the past and they share tons of fans. One week in, I think Circuital is their Yield. Like Yield, it's full of lovely, understated songwriting. Like Yield, it highlights a band at the peak of their technical powers; you can members democratically offering their parts, ideas thrown around, improved upon, everyone working with great facility in service of the song. Like Yield, the songs are stylistically--but not thematically--diverse. Like Yield, the production is organic and open. And like Yield, it will satisfy established fans, but might not make new ones.

(I've written at length about Yield in the past. I claim that it's the most underrated album of the 90's here.)

4) Finally, the early press for Circuital has been mostly glowing. I've been confused, though, by how many reviews spin this album as a "return to greatness" after the "misstep" of Evil Urges. The same Evil Urges was almost universally praised when it came out by those same publications and blogs. In other words, it's (I guess?) nice to see that My Morning Jacket has entered yet another strata. We'll call it: Artists Whose New Album Is Always Awesome, Until It's the Last Album.

This is also known as "The REM Rule." It's a time-honored tradition. Every few years since the mid-to-late 90's, music journalists have declared the New REM Album their "return to glory." To illustrate this return to glory, they reference an REM "golden age" we universally recognize and cherish, and draw comparisons between this new album and those old albums. Until the next New REM Album comes out. Then, they pan the last New REM Album to make the same point about this New REM Album. There's also the "Ryan Adams Corollary," which is similar, except it harkens back to a golden age that isn't universally recognized or cherished.

Anyway, those are a few of my immediate reactions to the full album. Next week, I might feel totally different. What do y'all think?

Song of the Week: My Morning Jacket, "Circuital"

I first heard this song at a Starbucks in Denver (you were there), biding time until that night's show. Later, I burned it onto my next road-mix. It kept me company on the long drive(s) through the heartland. It joined me one bleary-eyed morning setting out for Omaha. It played on repeat one late night in Kansas, driving through a thunderstorm. It's a song about things coming full circle, and it soundtracked my own circuitous route home. But all of that came later.

I first heard this song at a Starbucks in Denver, a little tired, a little homesick, and a little lost. I was one of many people on an island with their earbuds and coffee and tiny table. Then I heard Jim James, my old friend, absent a few years. His falsetto soared. He dreamily sung about returning to "childhood ways." Suddenly, golden acoustic guitars strummed, recalling something timeless yet brand new (1:10). The next time they returned, Who-esque powerchords (2:00) joined them, propelling the song into a new, anthemic section. And suddenly I was a tired, homesick wreck in the middle of a Starbucks in Denver. I won't lie to you: this song got real for me. Its second minute is simply special--inspired, perfectly executed, and flat-out gorgeous. And in that moment, it did exactly what it's supposed to do: it called me back home. Bigtime.

Of course, I could go on and on about all the ways the music of this song enacts the "circular" themes of the lyrics (e.g., it ends exactly the way it began, etc.). And I could type endlessly about the production of the song (i.e., how amazing the band sounds). And I could ramble about Carl's wonderfully side-winding lead parts in the song's second half. I could pick a dozen different technical things this band does amazingly well, things that set them apart from so many other bands. But I picked "Circuital" because it has the rarest of things: a little bit of magic.

I'm still listening to the rest of Circuital over and over again, looking for more magic. I haven't heard it yet, but that's why I'm always craving the next MMJ song: they've got it in them.

About Last Week

noreply@blogger.com (Chris Milam) — Wed, 01 Jun 2011 18:57:00 +0000

I wanted to update everyone--especially the non-Memphians--on last week's show. I opened for Cory Branan and Jeremy Stanfill at the Hi-Tone. If you've read this blog and followed my show-dates in the past, you know that I'm a fan of Jeremy; if you've ever spent 30 seconds around me, you know Cory's one of my all-time favorite artists. So, it was a real honor warming up their crowd.

There's some added pressure playing for someone like Cory, whose music I've admired for such a long time. Several of you were sweet enough to write before and after the show to ask if I was nervous. The honest answer is "no."

Once upon a time, when I first started playing out in Nashville, I had a short phase of stage fright. I got nervous before, during, and after every show. Thankfully, that phase only lasted a few weeks. Later, I'd occasionally get nervous before a show if it was a new challenge--a new city, a new venue, a bigger crowd that I was used to, etc.

Now, if I feel prepared, I rarely get nervous. The things that make me edgy are mid-show problems. For example, a problem with the sound system, or vocal health, or some disturbance in the crowd***--those things can disrupt the flow of the show. But just getting up there and playing? No. It's only fun, regardless of room, crowd, or other artists on the bill. I trust myself, and if I'm prepared and healthy, I'm relaxed.

(***Note: When I say "disturbance in the crowd," I'm talking about an argument or issue not involving me. For some reason, I don't mind any hostility/friendly heckling directed at me. But every now and then I'll be mid-song and hear a shouting match or a fight in the front row; that makes the rest of the crowd uncomfortable and distracted, and it's always a challenge getting everyone relaxed after that.)

As for the show itself, everything went great. I played a half hour, Jeremy played a half hour, and Cory played for the rest of the night. Here's my setlist:
"If You Don't Love Me By Now" (Up)
"Coldweather Girls" (Up)
"Shine" (Tin Angel EP)
"Thirteen" (Big Star cover)
"Amy's Gone Away" (unreleased)
"Never In Love" (unreleased)

Because Cory's music is so listener-friendly, the Hi-Tone was set up for listening: folks sat around tables throughout the room, and everyone was quiet and attentive. Of course, that's any opener's dream, especially any singer/songwriter: a roomful of people listening. So, thanks again to everyone for being so nice and engaged.

During "Thirteen," I heard someone up front singing high harmony on the last line of each verse ("take you," "shake you," "make you,"). Of course, it's always too dark to see who's doing what in the crowd. I just enjoyed it and kept playing. Later, Cory and I talked briefly, and he was really kind about the set. He said he wanted to join me on "Thirteen" but didn't want to step on my toes, so he sang along from the table. Turns out he was the phantom harmonizer. I told him to "step on my toes" whenever he wants--next time, we'll sing it together.

Of course, Jeremy absolutely brought it and Cory was as good as I've ever seen him. He played a lot of songs that will be on the next record. If the live performances are any indication, it will be scary good. Can't wait for it.

One more cool note: Ben Nichols (singer--Lucero) and Steve Selvidge (guitarist--Hold Steady, Amy LaVere, a million others) were also in the crowd last Thursday. They're two more of my favorite Memphis musicians, so it was cool seeing a chunk of my record collection represented. Felt like a nice homecoming. If you're picturing a lot of moments where I'm trying my best not to geek out, you know me too well. I walked around for four hours with a huge dopey grin.

I'll wrap up with a video from the show. This is a brand new song I debuted last Thursday, and I'm not sure it's 100% finished. Anyway, it was a blast to play--let me know what you think!

Chris Milam, "Amy's Gone Away" (5-26-11)

Song of the Week: Roman Candle, "Early Aubade"

noreply@blogger.com (Chris Milam) — Fri, 27 May 2011 13:00:00 +0000

I first heard of Roman Candle through their publishing company in Nashville--a friend who works there gave me a copy of Oh Tall Tree In the Ear. I didn't listen to it until several months later, though, when a former bandmate of mine (monster axe-man Stanton Adcock) began playing with them on tour. So, sometime last spring, I hit play. Out came "Eden Was a Garden." I listened to nothing else for a week. I liked the album immediately for its energy and its wealth of melodies (not all vocal). Later, I fell in love with its lyrics.

Roman Candle's writing is deliberately poetic and lyrical. For example:

I could wish against the dawn of day, sit and wish that we could stay
In this room we could wait til the tears come
Oh but that don't work for me and you, doing things the way we do
It'd be a conchshell stuck to our eardrum
With every passing minute as a faint-heard roar
Of a rolling ocean talking about some road we've never seen before...

Verses like that are hard to come by. They're even more rare from a rock band. You can read Roman Candle's lyrics on the page (or at their site) and hear Auden, and Eliot, and Whitman. Hell, they name-check Milton. And while citing The Greats is one thing (anyone can quote Shakespeare*), writing great is another. Roman Candle's lyrics are more than rich, rewarding, intellectual conceits that develop an idea, or tell a story, or give us some fresh imagery. Read (or sung) aloud, they're beautiful. Whoever's writing them has a poet's ear.

So, a year later, I'm still finding new things to love about this album. Each song is full of new musical nooks-and-crannies to explore, new favorite lines, a guitar part that just catches the ear, etc. Or, in this case, a really cool songwriting trick that's so well-executed I didn't hear it the first dozen times.

Song of the Week: Roman Candle, "Early Aubade"

Okay, click that link and listen (couldn't find a YouTube video for it). Maybe listen a second or a third time. I listened to this song several times before I realized something was strange about it. I listened a few more times before I realized what that strange thing was: "Early Aubade" is backwards.

I'll explain...

This is a verse-centric song. As you can hear, there isn't really a chorus, and there isn't really a bridge. It's just a series of verses--without a refrain--that tell a story, and the music helps it along. When a song stays the same structurally, songwriters like mix it up musically/melodically/etc to keep the listener engaged. In other words, "I'm playing the same chords, but now a piano's joined me!" You need to mix it up one way or another.**

A few examples:
--My song, "In the Air Tonight" has a chorus, but it's really a verse-heavy song. To avoid redundancy, I added more instruments and background melodies in each passing verse. The song "builds" to a climax before the final line.
--Josh Ritter writes a lot of these songs. "Girl In the War" plays with the song's arrangement to build drama and give the ear something new to latch onto as each verse is being sung.

In other words, a common way of recording these songs is to add instruments and build the drama. But in "Early Aubade," Roman Candle does the opposite. The first verse is the loudest, biggest, and feels the most cathartic. Every subsequent verse strips away ornamentation; as the lyric gets more intimate, so does our production. Finally, we're left with only one singer, one guitar, and one open-ended hypothetical.

Pretty cool, huh? It's a simple twist on an old technique, but 1) I've never heard it before and 2) it's executed to perfection. As startling as the difference from first to last verse is, it's easy to miss the transition as it's happening. It's especially fun to contrast with the album's other bookend, the first track "Eden Was a Garden." "Eden" takes the more conventional approach, beginning with the lone guitar and singer and building up to a climax. Ten songs later, "Early Aubade" inverts the formula, employs a similar melody, and invites song-to-song comparisons.

I'd recommend playing "Early Aubade" the next time you're driving on an empty street in great weather. I'd recommend playing it loud. And I'd recommend getting the whole album. I promise, it'll last you a while.

(*Yeah, I'm looking at you, Mumford. Easy, people--I'm a fan! But the "they're quoting Shakespeare!" blurbs are just silly. I wish writing "E = MC2" meant I magically didn't suck at math. But yeah, I still suck at math.)
(**Unless you're Bob Dylan and you're writing "Desolation Row," in which case you can do whatever the hell you want.)

Song of the Week: Fleet Foxes, "Helplessness Blues"

noreply@blogger.com (Chris Milam) — Fri, 20 May 2011 13:00:00 +0000

And we're back!

First, thanks for all of your emails last week. When I asked for your suggestions for the blog, you certainly responded. All of the feedback was appreciated, and many of your suggestions overlapped. A few themes I noticed:

--You like the Another Cup of Coffee series
--You like Mad Men (not sure what this has to do with the Blog, but sure, I appreciate it)
--You like it when I rant about something
--You like emailing me instead of commenting in the comments section
--You'd like me to "suck it"
--You like Song of the Week

Who'm I to argue? Let's get right to it...

Song of the Week: Fleet Foxes, "Helplessness Blues"

I have no clue how much anyone knows about Fleet Foxes. An extremely long time ago (like 1982, man!), there were the Pop Bands Everyone Knew (say, Kiss), and the Bands You Knew If You Were Paying Attention (say, R.E.M.). Through the 80's, 90's, and even part of the 00's, there was a delineation between artists the general public had heard of, and artists the "real music fans" had heard of. Loosely, "big" bands vs. "small" bands. The people that received music vs. the people who actively sought it out. Top 40 radio vs. college radio. Rolling Stone vs. a local fanzine. Etc.

Twenty years ago, Fleet Foxes might've been in the latter camp. Their philosophical lyrics, folk influences, and organic production would've made them a favorite of college radio, indie publications, and the general "small band" set. And today, they surely are darlings of niche radio stations and indie blogs. But they're also signed to a major label subsidiary, they've played SNL, their first single has 4 million YouTube views. This winter, Cake topped Billboard's charts by selling 40,000 records in a week, the lowest number ever for a #1 rock album; Fleet Foxes have gone gold in North America and the UK. They're technically big (relative to 2011), but most of my friends can't name one of their songs. It's the Age of the Small Big Band, and Fleet Foxes might be its posterboys.

So, I have no feel for how much anyone knows this band, or really any band I talk about. I'm constantly having conversations where people ask, "what are you listening to?" And if I say "have you heard Fleet Foxes," I get one of two reactions with NOTHING in between:
1) Everyone at the table immediately groans, rolls their eyes, and says that not only do they know Fleet Foxes, they were "over" them by 2008, man. OR...
2) Everyone at the table looks at me like I grew a second head and says, "is that Roald Dahl?"

Maybe you're in the first camp, maybe you're in the second. Maybe you're the first person I know who occupies some heavenly middle ground. Either way, here's a quick intro/trip down memory lane:
1) Think Crosby, Stills, and Nash meets Pacific Northwest meets Gen Y optimism meets Jeff Buckley meets beards.
2) This.
3) And this.

Anyway, this month they released their second full album, Helplessness Blues. I've been listening to it a lot, mostly the title track.

I really like this song for a hundred reasons (#1-38 are some version of "it's fucking gorgeous"), but I'll write about the two I find most interesting:

1) The Quarter Life Question. People think of my generation as a still-emerging class of tweens, adolescents, and nascent college co-eds. We're not. The generation roughly defined as the "Millennials," "Gen Y" or, as I call them, "people I hang out with who aren't my brother," was born in the 1980's. Which means pretty much all of us are somewhere between "post-grad" and "nearing thirty." In other words, we're no longer tweens; we're twentysomethings. We've talked about "The Future" for a long time. We've considered "what I'll do when I grow up" for even longer. Well, it's kind of here, right? We're technically adults, aren't we? And, whether we mean to or not, we're answering some of these questions, we're making some of these decisions, and we're shaping that future.

Those questions can be heady. They can be even headier if you're unsure about your answer. They can be even headier if you've made an answer and realize, a year or two later, that it was the wrong answer. "Helplessness Blues" is one of the only songs I've heard (by a popular artist in recent years) tackle this explicitly. In fact, the whole album seems at least tangentially to be about a Quarter Life Crisis. And, near as I can tell, it's one of the first from a pop band of this generation. Congrats, everyone--we're out of the mall!

2) The Anti-Millennial Answer. If the countless articles about Gen Y have told us anything, we're (in no particular order):
1) ambitious, but lazy
2) self-absorbed
3) entrepreneurial
4) dependent on our parents
5) entitled
6) innately tech-savvy
7) blessed with perfect smiles (because of braces, you see)

Now, listen to this.

I was raised up believing I was somehow unique...
And now after some thinking, I'd say I'd rather be
A functioning cog in some great machinery
Serving something beyond me...

The only thing more antithetical to the Gen Y stereotype than being a "functioning cog in some great machinery" is wanting to be one. Though the song is surely about one man's existential crisis, it's an assault on the perception of who we are and what we value. And I'll be honest: I don't know who we are or what we value. Neither does the song ("and I don't, I don't know what that will be..."). That's kind of the point.

Like everyone else, I've read that recycled Newsweek article every year since I was sixteen. And--maybe like everyone else--I've been at odds with my peers for a long time. We are self-absorbed. We can act entitled. We could stand to do more walking and less talking. And we're frequently awful, solipsistic, distracted company. Hell, I'm public enemy #1: an independent musician blogging in a coffee shop. I truly believe our heart is in the right place, but I worry about our head.

That's why "Helplessness Blues" is such a breath of fresh air; it's nice to hear a counterargument. It's good to hear a statement of selflessness in action instead of in theory. It's nice to hear confusion expressed as a fact of adulthood, not another feeling on a diary's page. A Gen Y male's fantasy life might involve a non-nuclear family, independent wealth gleaned through entrepreneurial and technological savvy, and general world-beating by creating your own little world. This song ends with an alternate fantasy of the "good life": he could work an orchard "til he's sore" and she could wait tables. Living simply, and honestly, and in service of something. It sounds like my grandparents' generation rather than mine. It sounds nice. It sounds new, but old. It sounds great.

Another Cup of Coffee with Cory Branan

noreply@blogger.com (Chris Milam) — Mon, 16 May 2011 15:44:00 +0000

Su Casa

noreply@blogger.com (Chris Milam) — Thu, 12 May 2011 13:35:00 +0000

Eyes on the road.

Something's been bothering me lately.

I've been thinking that, for the most part, this blog has been a one-sided affair. I post, you read, you reply, rinse, repeat. Instead of posting a Song of the Week and coasting into Saturday, I'd like to break that cycle. And I need your help.

I want to hear from you this weekend. What are your favorite parts of the blog? What could you live without? What topics do you wish I'd write about more? Which specific posts were your favorites? Least favorites? Tell me anything on your mind. I promise you won't hurt my feelings. I love writing all of it, mostly because I love sharing the whole dern musical experience with y'all.

So, let me hear it! Comment below, or write me on Twitter, or send an email with the subject "Blog."

Thanks, as always, for your comments and thoughts here at the Blogeroo. Every email/tweet/comment this weekend will be read and replied to, I promise.

I'll see y'all here Monday for Another Cup of Coffee. I think y'all will be excited about this month's guest--I definitely am!

TGIThursday,
CM

Coast To Coast #9: Crawling Back To You

noreply@blogger.com (Chris Milam) — Tue, 03 May 2011 20:27:00 +0000

Several years ago, one of my favorite bands released one of my all-time favorite live albums: Pearl Jam, Live On Two Legs. The title's clever, because sections of a tour are called "legs," and because that specific tour was billed as something of a "comeback" for the band. So, they were literally "live, on two legs" of their tour, and figuratively back on their feet.

After one leg of the tour, you could continue the joke that a fatigued band only has "one leg left." And now, back in Memphis, after 6,300 miles in a month, I've got no legs left. I'm home, and I'm crawling.

But before taking a Van Winkle-sized nap, I should cap off the spring tour blog. First, here's the final tally for the month of April:
--6,362 miles
--91.5 hours driving (give or take a minute)
--38 Fruit Roll-Ups eaten
--37 Fruit Roll-Ups enjoyed
--27 gas stops
--16 states
--14 5 Hour Energy shots
--4 days off
--4 time zones
--3.5 books read
--3 BBQ dinners (all in the same night)
--2 all-nighters
--2 tires replaced
--1 Dr. Pepper accidentally shoplifted
--1 trip to the laundromat
--1 minor car accident
--0 salads eaten
--0 strings broken (miraculous)

Also, I tried to keep count of these things and went cross-eyed:
1) Number of rest areas visited
2) Number of Cokes/coffees/waters consumed (see #1)
3) Number of fine new friends/fans I made on the road
4) Number of songs I sang

For those of you curious, the books I read this month, complete with a seven-word review for each:
1) Keith Richards, Life. Twenty-two percent better than I expected.
2) Steve Martin, Shopgirl. Sad happy story or happy sad story?
3) Bob Dylan, Chronicles Volume 1. I re-read this, impatient for Volume 2.
3.5) Malcolm Gladwell, What the Dog Saw. Proof he was awesome last millennium, too.

All month long, it seemed I was one day ahead of bad weather. It stormed in Denver the day after I left; the same system became a blizzard hours after I left Omaha. It rained for days in middle Tennessee right before--and right after--my shows in Nashville and Knoxville. Not long after my last show in Memphis Saturday night, it started raining. I'm typing this Tuesday afternoon, and the rain just stopped. There's flooding all over West Tennessee. The weather caught up to me, and it hit hard.

So did the news. One friend went Houston for a very specific and very scary health reason. Two dear friends--married last year--happily discovered this month that they're pregnant. Two more were married the first weekend of April. And, sure, why not: the Memphis Basketball Grizzlies keep winning playoff games. To bookend things, this happened May 1. I came home to a stack of mail and a loaded DVR and a thousand little fires to put out.

It feels like I've been gone 15 minutes. It feels like I've been gone six months. I went off somewhere, and the earth spun without me (the nerve!). If you look close, sometimes you can see it spin, and sometimes you can hear it. I see it now--calls to return, mail to read, work to do, plans to make. It's spinning alright. But I'm back home and standing still, on two legs, or one leg, maybe none, or maybe just lying down for a while....

Soon, soon, soon,
CM

Coast To Coast #8: Running Man's Bible

noreply@blogger.com (Chris Milam) — Thu, 28 Apr 2011 18:54:00 +0000

It's a beautiful day here in Nashville, where I've got a little time to kill before the finish line this weekend: Friday night show in Nashville, Saturday night show in Memphis. And then I take a nap.

Meanwhile, I wanted to take stock of the last several weeks on the road. This month, I've seen a lot of things. I've heard a lot of things. And, often despite myself, I've learned a few things. So, before I closed out the tour, I wanted to pass along some rules of the road, some helpful tips, some recommendations, and all the little things that made 6,000 miles-in-30-days a little easier.

Here's the (abridged) Running Man's Bible!

Rule #3: The Gentleman's 77
Don't speed in New Mexico, Arizona, Wyoming, Idaho, and any other place with 75mph speed limits. There's no traffic in these states, everything above 70 is a bonus, and you've got all day to get where you're going. Cruise, enjoy the scenery, and wave at the cops.

Rule #28: The Continental
Don't pay for breakfast. Ever. If you're hungry, or think you will be hungry, and you're passing an exit with multiple hotels, stop. Get a bag out of your trunk. Look like the disheveled traveler you are. Then walk right into the lobby of that Hampton Inn and take their food without hesitation or remorse.

Additionally:
--If you're there in the morning, you can enjoy the entire continental breakfast. All major hotel chains will have one. I prefer Hampton Inn's, because they've started packing to-go bags for guests rushing out the door. You'll recognize them as the paper sacks on the front desk. Take one. They're just more efficient.
--If you're coming at an off-hour, most hotel chains will still have some breakfast remnants available in the lobby. Usually, a big bowl of apples and bananas, plus coffee and juice. Hit that up.
--Don't expect much out of the coffee, anywhere, ever, but it is free. Beggars can't be choosers.
--In case you feel weird about any of this, I find it actually helps to talk to the folks at the front desk. Then, and only then, will you realize how little they actually care about the final destination of their foodstuffs. A few times, I've even bonded with the Front Desk Person enough to have a frank discussion about just this issue. In one case, she took pity on me and made me a care package (thanks, Tiff).

Rule #28 (Article B): The Cookie Addendum
Know the cookie situation. Several years ago, Doubletree Hotels began giving out complimentary cookies to guests. Not packaged cookies, mind you--they bake fresh cookies a few times a day and keep them in a little warming oven behind the counter. You check in, you get a cookie. You pass by the counter and make friends with the concierge, get a cookie.

You don't even know. You DON'T EVEN KNOW!

I don't know what to tell you other than this: Doubletree Cookies are the Greatest Cookies in the World. I know, I know: "...but my Grandmother Grammsie's 4,000 year old recipe!" To which I say, FORGET your Grandmother Grammsie. What? You heard me. Forget it. Doubletree solved all the world's problems with this cookie. Someday, this cookie will bring peace to the Middle East. It's the baked-goods equivalent of Michelangelo's Pieta singing Beethoven's 9th while curing cancer. The last time I ate one, I swear to God I saw a unicorn.

Needless to say, the other hotel chains felt some heat. Now, many (including Hampton Inn) supply their own cookies, refilling a display case a few times daily. They're not as good as the Doubletree Cookies, but, to be fair, 1) you're stealing and 2) absolutely nothing else in this world is. Nothing.

Nothing.

Rule #61: Ask a Local
When in doubt, ask a local. Always. Need a recommendation? Ask a local. Biding time in a new town before a show? Talk to a local. Checking out at a gas station and notice that the cashier's friendly? Take ten minutes and ask them about their hometown.

I always hear--especially among an older generation--that people are less friendly than they used to be. Strangers don't help strangers. Everyone's got their phone out and their earbuds in, and they don't interact with the outside world. Kids these days, and whatnot.

And you know what? That might be partially true, especially on the coasts. But my experience is that this country's filled with friendly, decent people that still interact openly and honestly and unassumingly. I can't tell you how many times I've had time to kill in a coffeeshop or diner or venue or bar before a show and suddenly found myself in a conversation with a local. There are two things everyone loves talking about: 1) themselves and 2) their town. All you gotta do is ask.

Rule #88: Rocket Fuel
It's a long drive: know your caffeine/sugar needs. Oddly enough, I've gotten a staggering number of emails about which energy drinks/shots/etc I prefer. If that sounds weird to you, that makes two of us. But I guess I've become a de facto aficionado at this point. So, here's my little breakdown:

--Coffee is king. Unfortunately, I can't drink much on show days, because that much caffeine's hard on the throat. Show days: one small cup in the morning to start off the drive. Off-days: um, more than one small cup?

Of the gas station coffees, my favorite is Exxon. Shell's alright. Texaco and Phillips 66 always seem to have that lone glass pot with the orange top and the white styrofoam cups. And I don't even know what an ARCO is, man.

--5 Hour Energy. For long drives on show days, I take a 5 Hour Energy in the morning and one in the afternoon. That's usually a good-enough coffee substitute. My favorite flavor is "Berry," for what that's worth. Which berry, you ask? "Berry," man. Go with it.

--Cokes N Stuff. I've got an unhealthy love for 'Nilla Coke. In rare, euphoric moments, I'll find an Orange Crush in a glass bottle, and the angels sing, and heaven rejoices.

--Water. I think drinking a lot of water gives you more energy, or something. I either read that somewhere or just made it up. Anyway, it's essential for the ole vocal chords, so I do it.

--Energy drinks (Rockstar, Amp, Monster, etc.). I don't drink these things if I can avoid them. I'm not prone to "crashing" after a lot of coffee or sugar, but these things make me crash, bigtime, which isn't safe behind the wheel. Also, they taste the way a Japanese arcade looks. Also, they make my stomach hate me, actively, for hours after consumption. Other than that, they're awesome.

But, if I absolutely have to, if I've gotta make the Kessel run in less than twelve parsecs, I prefer Rockstar. For obvious reasons.

(Editor's Note: Reps for 5 Hour Energy, Coca Cola, and Rockstar energy beverages can contact chris@chrismilam.com for endorsement opportunities. Please include "Enabler" in the subject line.)

Rule #104: 3G in 3D
AT&T lies to you. A while back, Verizon advertised their coverage map across America. It was impressive, because it covered basically the whole country. AT&T countered by saying their coverage includes "95% of Americans." But that's different from "95% of America." Because when you're driving between places, you still need a signal.

In fairness to AT&T and the 3G and coverage maps, I rarely had an issue. But what I noticed was this: hills are a problem, mountains are not. Driving through the Rockies? Full bars--huzzah! Molehills in New Mexico? Forget about it.

The Golden Rule: The Soundtrack
It goes without saying that music is my top priority on any road trip, much less a month long trip across the country, twice. If you're like me, you like to have physical CDs to play in the stereo. If you're like me, you have three carrying cases full of CDs, plus two cases reserved for mixes. If you're like me, you also keep your phone current with music and podcasts, ready in case you need a change of pace or a backup option if the stereo malfunctions. If you're like me, you also burn additional mixes for each leg of the trip (e.g. "California Songs," "The Heartland," etc). And, if you're like me, you give all of this a little too much thought.

So, here are a few notables--old classics, new favorites, etc--that helped me walk the miles:

Most Played Artist:
Teenage Fanclub, oddly enough. I'm as surprised as you are. It's also worth noting that I've revisited the entire Lucero and Pearl Jam catalogs, plus half the Beatles, and all of 60's Dylan.

Most Played Mix(es):
Some of you might recall my 96X Anthology. I've listened to all of it this month, too, though not in chronological order. And if you think for one second that I didn't have a very accidental--but very real--"moment" with "Champagne Supernova" at dusk somewhere in Northern California, hi, I'm Chris, and we haven't met yet.

Most Played Song:
Probably something off the first half of the first mix I made for the road. I made that mix for the Arkansas-to-SoCal stretch of road that lasted two days. The mix was entitled "Spring Tour 2K11: No Rest For the Wicked," and its first half rocked me all month long. Here's the track list:
1) Fleet Foxes, "Helplessness Blues"
2) Cage the Elephant, "Ain't No Rest For the Wicked"
3) The 88, "At Least It Was Here"
4) Sleigh Bells, "Rill Rill"
5) Vampire Weekend, "Holiday"
6) The Strokes, "Under the Cover of Darkness"
7) Dr. Dog, "Keep a Friend"
8) Monsters of Folk, "Say Please"
9) Rolling Stones, "Plundered My Soul"
10) Paul Simon, "The Only Living Boy In New York"

From there, it transitions into a much more mellow, pensive listen. But that A-side kept giving me an energy boost when I needed it.

Favorite New Discovery:
My Morning Jacket's new single, "Circuital." I can't stop listening to this, and I couldn't be more excited for the new album in May.
Honorable Mention: Chris Bathgate's "In the City."

Favorite Old Rediscovery:
Bob Dylan, "I'll Keep It With Mine."

MVP:
Marc Maron's free podcast, WTF. For those who haven't heard him, Marc Maron is a longtime stand-up comic. He hosts a podcast where he talks to other comics about comedy, their careers, their background, and anything else that comes up. He's one of the best interviewers I've ever heard--because he's often interviewing longtime friends and peers in the comedy world, the conversations are unpredictable, raw, and very candid. They're fascinating. You can read more about his podcast at this NYTimes piece.

Anyway, my friend Will recommended the podcast to me, and thank God he did. About halfway through the month, I started getting weary of my CD collection and tried out WTF. I'm telling you: a good podcast can make an 8-hour drive go by in a hurry. Really fun listening, and great company during some rough, weary stretches of road.

Other podcasts I've enjoyed (all of these are free, and you can subscribe on iTunes):
The BS Report (Bill Simmons, aka The Sports Guy)
Adam Carolla Show
NPR's All Songs Considered (which introduced me to Chris Bathgate's "In the City")
Firewall & Iceberg (TV critic Alan Sepinwall's weekly pod)

Obviously, there's much more to the Running Man's Bible. But that's a start. If you got any rules to add, let me hear them. I'm always anxious to make the road easier.

Here's to glory (and survival),
CM

Coast To Coast #7: Down South (Parts 1 & 2)

noreply@blogger.com (Chris Milam) — Thu, 21 Apr 2011 23:07:00 +0000

If you've read this blog for any length of time, you've probably learned a few things about me. One of them is that I love Fruit Roll-Ups. Another is that I don't sleep very often. And if you've read any of my tour blogs, you know I've patronized half the Starbucks in America. But WHY, you ask? Why not get a slice of each city's flavor by going to its local coffeeshops? Why throw money at a giant corporate monolith when there are charming Mom-and-Pop stores all across America, yearning for--and deserving of--my business? Why not support the little guy, David and Goliath and underdogs and free markets and America and slingshots and all that jazz???

Because Starbucks are everywhere, they're cheap, they have free wi-fi, and they're consistent. If I'm at home, I'm going to the local place. If I'm on the road, all I want is a Starbucks. I know what I'm getting. ESPECIALLY if I've been to that Starbucks before.

Back in July, I found a Bux in downtown Knoxville near the Preservation Pub and camped out before showtime. It's part of the Hilton here, adjacent to some hotel bar called the "Orange Martini." I had a coffee and typed up this blog entry, which was a Day In the Life-style post about one day of travel from NYC to Philly to DC. And now, nine months later, here I am again. Same town, same Starbucks, same table, same drink order, same amount of time before the show, and (sure, why not?) same post!

A Day In the Life, April 21, 2011:

12:11AM
You're not going to believe this, but I'm awake. I can't sleep. How far is it to Knoxville again? When should I leave in the morning? Oh yeah, they're on Eastern time--I'll lose an hour. Do the math, Chris. Carry the nine. You got this. I should leave somewhere between 8AM and 2PM to arrive in Knoxville for the show. That gives me plenty of time to sleep.

I should read something. Reading sometimes makes me sleepy. What is available to read? Shopgirl, by Steve Martin. I like Steve Martin, and I like shopgirls. Let's do this.

2:34AM
Dammit Steve, your novella reeled me in. Curse you and your heartening, understated romance! I'm even more awake now, and I'm almost done with the book. Tomorrow's going to be a long day.

Check that: today's going to be a long day.

6:29AM
Who is calling me??? What disaster, natural or otherwise, could justify a call at six-twenty-oh-nevermind. It's my alarm. But why in God's name did I set my alarm for 6:29AM?

Now I've got the unenviable task (perhaps you've been here) of remembering--still half-asleep--what early morning event I'm supposed to attend. I'm jogging my sluggish memory, and I'm getting nothing. There are two options in play:
1) Something of tantamount importance (breakfast with the governor? running a half marathon for charity?) is happening early this morning.
2) I'm an idiot who set his alarm for 6:29AM for no reason.

You already know.

9:03AM
That's a little more like it. Let's get moving, onwards and upwards and towards Knoxville!

Thing #1 on show days, whenever possible, is warming up the ole vocals. I say "whenever possible," because sometimes I have company/am a guest and don't want to disturb folks with crazy noises. Today I have time for a quick warm-up. A very quick warm-up. Then I need to hit the road.

10:57AM
That warm-up went a little long. I started playing songs and got carried away. The bad news is that I've probably exhausted my vocal chords. The good news is that 1) it was fun, and 2) I've still got plenty of time to get to Knoxville. It's a short drive.

1:35PM
Somewhere on I-40E between Nashville and Knoxville. In the three weeks since I left Tennessee, spring totally sprung. It's not just green, it's downright tropical around here. Trees are overgrowing, grass and shrubs are trying to take over the highway. It's like one of those History Channel shows depicting what the world would look like post-humans, year by year. Nature is taking over! Someone get a weed eater!

2:00PM
I try to minimize caffeine intake on show days, because caffeine's rough on the throat. This means I'm occasionally driving 8-12 hours to a show, starting at dawn, without coffee. Hence, my love of 5 Hour Energy shots. Because today's drive is so short, and I started so late, I thought to myself, "I don't need caffeine! Vocal chords: you're welcome!" And what I'm trying to say is this: I was wrong, I need caffeine, and my vocal chords will not thank me when I drive headlong into the Rainforest That Eastern Tennessee Has Become This Month.

3:55PM
Boom! Eastern time. I love Eastern time, except for its TV schedule, the way it affects my sunrise/sunset expectations, and how it often cuts my travel days short. Otherwise, it's the best. Glad to be back!

Now seems like a good time to update some tour stats:
5,714 mile
16 states
12 5 Hour Energy shot
4 time zones
4 shows left, 3 weeks down, 2 more to go
1 minor car accident
1 show canceled
0 speeding tickets

I'll post more stats soon. I've kept insanely detailed records of things like how many Fruit Roll-Ups I've eaten and what my favorite Starbucks was. These are the things you (maybe?) need to know.

5:07PM
Brings us back (roughly) to the present. I'm back at my hotel lobby Starbucks in bustling downtown Knoxville, chatting with an impossibly friendly barista about the weather. This month, I've seen some new places, and I've certainly driven through a lot of the country. I've learned a lot. And if I've learned nothing else, I've learned these two things:

1) America is beautiful, and it's filled with good folks. Don't let the ugly and the mean tell you otherwise.
2) The South is awesome. It's good to be back.

6:58PM
I've moved into the "Orange Martini," because it has places to plug the laptop in. Rock and roll!

Lots of show days, especially ones where my drive's reasonable, are very hurry-up-and-wait. I rushed out this morning to beat some traffic and bad weather, only to get here and have hours to kill before a late showtime. My favorite days, weirdly enough, are those where the drive is long and showtime is early. Just pull up to the venue and plug in (e.g. Portland a few weeks ago). As you've probably gleaned, I'm not big on "waiting around."

So, I'm here, biding some time before it's time to load-in. Then, it's time to sound-check. Then, it's time to open the doors. Then, it's time for the show to start. Then, it's time to actually start the show. And now it's becoming clear this post will have to be a two-parter, and all of those times will have to come in Part 2. The day's only half done, and I've got miles to go (and shows to play) before I sleep.

In fact, 5,714 miles so far. Still no sleep. I'll see y'all soon.

(Editor's Note: There was a break in the action while Chris did some more things. Now that he's done more things, here's Part 2!)

7:31PM
I always get a kick out of someone catching me changing clothes in my car. It's the same weird gene that makes me shave one day later than I should; I like laughing with people laughing at me.

Anyway, this isn't a non sequitur: a crowd of sorority girls just caught me changing clothes in my car. They might think I'm homeless, but not carless, and not without several neckties.

8:28PM
Tonight might be the night I meet everyone in Knoxville. I've been at Barley's Taproom for thirty minutes and I think I've met the entire staff and half the patrons. I'm not gunning for a record or anything. Barley's is just full of friendly folks. And one insane bachelorette party.

The bachelorette party is a table-full of girls (maybe 8 of them), sitting down, occasionally screaming in unison. Which is good--you obviously want gals at a bachelorette party to have fun. I'm trying to figure out, though, what prompts their screaming. If zany hijinx are happening at this table, I can't tell. I don't even see rounds of drinks coming to them. They're simply sitting and talking and occasionally screaming, "WOOOOOOOO!" Maybe there's a high-stakes poker game I can't see.

I really hope they're still here when I play.

10:02PM
They're still here! Sadly, I think they've mellowed a bit. I was really hoping to have fun with them. Their mood has shifted from "devil-may-care-exuberance" to "boozy introspection." Of course, they're still screaming "WOOOO!" from time to time. But it's different. It's different.

10:58PM
Just finished the set! That was fun. Usually, I don't try out brand new songs (especially if they're not 100% finished) unless I feel really, really comfortable. I did, and I did. Hope to bring y'all a video or two of some new tunes I'm excited about. Thanks to the folks at Barley's for being so fun and game for anything. As always, it was really fun singing for y'all.

11:16PM
Oh No Oh My! I've been looking forward to hearing these guys all tour long. I know this band because I have many friends in common with singer/songwriter/multi-instrumentalist for Oh No Oh My, Tim Regan. He's been in a lot of bands I like, in both Memphis and Austin, including Snowglobe, Antenna Shoes, The Pirates, and Oh No Oh My. He's like a Dave Grohl for indie rock, right down to the subtly hilarious between-song banter.

And they're awesome live! This is going to be a good night.

Midnightish
Talking to some really nice UT students who came out to the show. Always impressed by the college kids I meet on the road--they're way more active/engaged/into new things than I was. I basically majored in "Beatles-And-Football." And minored in ping pong.

Anyway, they were kind enough to garnish my beer.

12:37AM
Here's a weird story:

As you may know, I have a friend named Matt Woods. Matt has worked as a singer/songwriter in Nashville since I met him in 2004. We've played many shows together, we've lived together, we've shared an enthusiasm for Donnie Jeffcoat, etc. He's great (for an Auburn fan) and I'm proud to call him a friend. Now...

Last summer, I was touring through Knoxville and saw a sticker in the bathroom. It caught my eye, because it said "Matt Woods." But when I looked closer, I noticed the website was for www.myspace.com/therealmattwoods. In other words, there is another Matt Woods, also a musician, based out of Knoxville, who may or may not be more real than the Nashville Matt Woods (NMW). So, I texted NMW the picture and said something like, "Looks like you've got competition," and he texted back something like, "Shut up, Jeffcoat." End of story.

The infamous sticker.

So, now I'm talking to the manager at Barley's and she tells me her boyfriend's a musician. I say, "oh, what's his name," and she says, "Matt Woods." And I reflexively yell, "You mean THE REAL MATT WOODS?!?" The same.

She hands me TRMW's new record, and we have a good laugh about the Matt Woodsesesses in our lives.

Now, as someone who has lived with Nashville Matt Woods, and someone who has spent ten minutes with the highly diplomatic girlfriend of Knoxville Matt Woods, I think I'm uniquely equipped to finally, at long last, bring both sides together and TEAR DOWN THIS FIREWALL! Think about it, fellas.

1:12AM
Wide awake and a half tank to burn--now is obviously the time to drive to Nashville. It's a weird, semi-troubling fact that I'm more awake to drive now than I would be at 9AM. I'm a night-owl anyway, but (as I've written before) it takes several hours to relax after a show. Might as well spend them driving to the next destination.

1:59AM
Stopped for provisions (read: caffeine, fruit snacks). Something really weird is afoot at the Kingston Exxon at 2AM. I can't explain it, but it might involve meth. Let's ride, Ruby!

1:12AM
What? Haven't we been here before? BOOM--back in central time. How should I use this extra hour, courtesy of time zones, their creators, and (sure, why not) God? I'll listen to my favorite mix I've made for the trip and reminisce about the very recent past:

The 88, "At Least It Was Here"
Ahhh, Albuquerque!

Sleigh Bells, "Rill Rill"
California, the times we had!

Fleet Foxes, "Helplessness Blues"
Reminds me of that time with those people! And that place!

That was fun. In all seriousness, I've jumped into a lot of new music and podcasts on this trip. Many of them have single-handedly kept me awake and entertained through the hours and hours on the road. I'll do a big round-up of all my favorites in a future post.

2:07AM
It'll be nice to be in Nashville tonight/this morning. I'm actually getting a little tired. I can't remember the last time I was here. Christmas? Some random football weekend last fall? I do know this: it seems like every time I re-visit Nashville, it rains. It's like I moved and y'all got a monsoon season. Or, a permanent dark cloud hovers over my car when I enter Davidson County. One or the other.

I will say this: it's great to get back on a familiar road. As much as I love exploring, it's been a long month of new places and new roads--it feels good to throw away GoogleMaps for a night. It's nice to, at least for a few hours, know exactly where you're going. I could drive the last ten miles of this trip in my sleep.

Not that I will, mind you. I've still got three hours left on that 5 Hour Energy and enough caffeine in me to launch a spaceship (caffeine does that, right?). I'm tired, but not sleepy.

And there's that groping Nashville skyline. There's the Batbuilding. There's my turn, winding north now around the loop. And there's my exit, coasting right into the east side, in the shadow of the football stadium. Just a few minutes now. There's the 5 Points, and 3 Crow. And--should've seen it coming--the rain on my windshield.

Feels like I never left.

Give you all I have (and a little more),
CM

Coast To Coast #6: Don't Come Around Here No More

noreply@blogger.com (Chris Milam) — Tue, 19 Apr 2011 18:39:00 +0000

Let's start with the bad news.

The bad news is that the DC show was canceled. The DC show was canceled due to what I can only describe as "sudden venue nonexistence." I wish there was a short version of the story I felt comfortable sharing, or a long version of the story that was interesting, but you know everything I do. As of like 2PM yesterday, that venue doesn't really function as a music venue anymore. But, what of the shows they'd already committed to booking and hosting? And, why? And, how? And, I repeat, WHAT?!?

Exactly.

But I'm glad we're talking about it, because this is what aging politicians like to call a "teachable moment." What, and whom, are we teaching? I don't have a clue. But come with me anyway.

This is a teachable moment because it's a nice little slice of life for a touring musician. Many of you have thoughtfully, kindly, written asking "what's life like on the road?" I try to answer that question many different ways in these blogs. And I try to focus as much as possible on the positive things, because that makes up 99% of life on the road. I love pretty much all of it. But, yeah, that 1%. The 1% happens when months of preparation get derailed by something weird or lame. Like a car breaking down. Or another artist taking all the money and running (hasn't happened to me since 2006, thankfully). Or a venue suddenly deciding not to exist.

And sure, there's the initial confusion of, "wait, what's happening here?" Then, there's the disappointment of, "crap, I really was looking forward to the DC show." And then, if you're like me, you get back to work. You chart out Plan B. You adjust. You make the most of it. Which is what I'm going to do. Tomorrow morning I'll wake up with a list of things to do, and I'll get to work. The next blog from me will be all about being back on the road, fun shows, fun people, and things going according to plan.

But right now...I'm stuck. I got the cancellation email yesterday, after driving towards DC. The next show is Thursday in Knoxville. Going anywhere else would be a monstrous waste of gas/time/energy/5 Hour Energies/CDRs for mix-making/etc. So, I'm stuck. I'm stuck for a few days in a problematic place with very little to do.

And sure, obviously, there are a million worse problems to have. But since I'm stuck, and I'm bored, and you're (maybe) bored, and we're both HERE anyway, I'm going to do something I rarely do: I'm going to type for a while. This is me, rambling. This is me, masturbatory, incontinent, and without an editor.

Strap in. Last time this happened, it ended up in the NYTimes.

First thing's first: I'm cool with the DC cancellation. I was obviously looking forward to playing a show in DC, and am disappointed I won't see the DC folks this week. But there will be other DC shows in the near and distant future. All will be well. No big deal.

Second thing's second: I'm cool with being stuck here for a few days. It'll be nice. A time of reflection. A time of meditation. I was driving 8-10 hours a day, anyway. I needed a break. This is good. This is a forced, much needed timeout. Besides, it's really not bad here. I'm probably the problem.

Kansas City was fun.

Third: I just bought the new Foo Fighters album. What do y'all think of it? I've listened a few times now. The new My Morning Jacket single got me so excited about new music that I inexplicably spent the remaining $12 of iTunes giftdom on the new Foo. "I love everything Dave Grohl does," I thought. "This record is reportedly their best since the Colour and the Shape," I thought. "Wahoo, new music!" I thought. Now I'm thinking, "I shouldn't have spent $12 on this." But I could be wrong, you see! I probably just need a few more listens. Trust the Foo. Trust the Grohl. Besides, the $12 is gone. Besides, what else was I going to spend it on? Ultimately, I'm cool with this purchase. I really am.

But fourth! How about that MMJ single?!? I love them so much. I love them so much that I can wait another six weeks for that album to come out. I don't need new music now. I can wait. I can delay gratification. It's unreasonable to expect to fall in love with a new album every four months. Artists are only human, after all. Where's my new song? Where's my masterpiece? How many songs have I written this week? How many albums have I put out? It's cool. I can dig, man. The Jacket will rock me in May, and I will get back in the studio soon. I can delay gratification. All good things come in time. Patience is a virtue. I can wait.

And fifth: how about those Grizzlies!

Sixth thing: the last several days of driving, playing, writing, and catching up on miscellaneous work have afforded me the opportunity to "beard." This means I haven't shaved in a while. I haven't shaved in four or nine or twenty days, or somewhere between. I look special, but that's a good thing. It's good to try out new things! Like grit-staches. Expanding one's look is essential to self-growth. It's important to experiment, to branch out. I know what it's like to walk through life as Kevin Federline's embarrassing cousin. I've felt the looks, and I'm cool with them. I've heard the snickers, and I've laughed too. My grit-stache gives me peace. It gives me perspective. Everything zen. Life, man!

Seventh: I know what some of you might be thinking. "Chris, you are a very plan-oriented person. You like moving, you like crossing things off to-do lists, and you are happiest when working at a breakneck pace on something you love. So I'm a little worried right now, because I don't know what happens when you're forced to stop. It seems to bother you." And to that I say, "do I SEEM BOTHERED TO YOU?" I'm cool with this, I really am. Sure, I usually don't take well to intermissions. But that was the Old Chris. That's Chris of Yesteryear. New Chris can sit still while the world turns. New Chris has a new middle name, and that middle name is "Forced Haitus." New Chris's nickname is "Chill Zone." He specializes in "Unspent Energy." In college, he majored in "Looking Good While Doing Nothing." Old Chris would've gone crazy in this situation. But I am cool with it. I really am.

VIIIth: Go Grizzlies!

And besides, look how the sun shines! And a fragrant wind rustles through the new leaves. The world is green and lush again. Strangers grin while pretending not to see each other on the street. Hear that noise? That's music wafting through the air, sent from heaven itself, or a boot-repair store. Spring has sprung. The squirrels sing. The world rejoices. The midday sun shines. It shines on the children crossing the street, interminably stopping traffic with their laughter and their...vibrant gameplaying. It warms the cockles of the hearts of the herds of feral cats that roam these sun-baked streets. It casts a twinkle in the eye of the barista asking regulars to repeat their order, and again, and again.

And in a day or two, it'll be time to move again. There will be a next show, Things To Do, fun shows, fun people, productivity, motion. And for now, there is nothing to do and a bunch of nowhere to do it, and I am COOL WITH THAT. It's a beautiful day. Look at that sun shining through the window, onto my shoulders, past my computer, and onto the painting of Boba Fett holding a rabbit oh Jesus Christ have you ever wanted to beat someone with a rockingchair?

Stop!
CM

Coast To Coast #5: A Face In the Crowd

noreply@blogger.com (Chris Milam) — Sun, 17 Apr 2011 16:00:00 +0000

I've finished the first leg of the tour, and I have a few days off before D.C., and I'm trying my best not to stop. If I stop, I might take a nap in Kentucky and sleep through next week's shows. Rule #1 When Touring: never, ever, ever stop.

So, I've filled the day off with things to do. One of those things was to empty out the camera and Flip from the first leg of the tour and post some pictures and videos.

So, while I regroup a little, here are two new videos from the Portland concert. And, for the running photo gallery of the tour, click here.

Enjoy!

(Side note: I know I still owe you one more YouTube Concert. It's coming, I promise.)

Live from The Woods, Portland OR - April 8, 2011

"Edge of the World"

"Shine"

Another place, another town,
CM

Another Cup of Coffee With Will Odom!

noreply@blogger.com (Chris Milam) — Fri, 15 Apr 2011 13:00:00 +0000

For those just catching up, I do a monthly feature with the Vinyl District. I interview a different person in the Memphis music community: artists, sound guys, business people, superfans, etc. The idea is that, over time, we might see how all the pieces fit together to make something really special. It's called Another Cup of Coffee.

In January, I talked with local singer/songwriter Jeremy Stanfill. In February, I spoke with Cindy Cogbill at the International Folk Alliance. And in March, I chatted with Cameron Mann of the Memphis Music Foundation.

This month, I wanted to talk to someone on the ground level, seeing shows night after night. So, I interviewed one of the best sound guys in Memphis and one of my closest dear friends. Please, hop on over to TVD and enjoy April's Another Cup with Will Odom!

(Note: The posts themselves will appear only at TVD, but I'll always post an intro and link here. So, you can stay updated on all my blog posts, here and elsewhere, by subscribing to the blog or bookmarking this page.

Also, if you'd like to subscribe to TVD Memphis, click here. And you can read all of my Another Cup of Coffee posts archived in the future by clicking the banner at the top of the page. Enjoy!)

Coast To Coast #4: Love Is a Long Road

noreply@blogger.com (Chris Milam) — Tue, 12 Apr 2011 21:37:00 +0000

...And we're back!

I'm writing y'all from a Starbucks in downtown Denver. I'm listening to the new My Morning Jacket single (!) on my headphones and trying not to make a scene in public. I'm failing.

Last we left off, I was in Seattle, waiting for my car to get new shoes at Firestone. What have I done since then? Driven. A lot. I've driven through Washington, Oregon, Idaho, Utah, Wyoming, and now Colorado. I've seen mountains, I've seen snow, I've seen (I think?) Badlands, and I've seen buttes.

(Pausing for giggles...)

I was tempted not to post today, since I've done nothing but drive hundreds of miles in the interim. Where's the action? Where's the intrigue? But then I remembered that driving from show to show is about 90% of touring. I drive, I listen to music, I try out new podcasts, and I think. Outside the 45 minutes I'm onstage, that's life on the road. To keep a tour blog and not talk about driving endlessly would be a little silly.

From the outside looking in, it might look a bit more romantic. "You get to see new places! You get to meet fascinating strangers you'll never see again! Kerouac, man!" And all of that. And, to be honest, there is that. I do see new places, I do meet interesting strangers I'll likely never see again, I do chat up locals in strange locales, and I love exploring off the beaten path.

But that all happens when you have spare time.

When you're driving upwards of 12 hours between shows, trying to squeeze in some rehearsal, hanging out with your hosts and friends in each city, getting to the venue early for load-in/sound-check, waiting til the end of the night to get paid, packing/unpacking/repacking each morning, etc...the day fills up.

Add onto that the fact that I'm like most independent artists: I still do pretty much everything myself.

For example, I'm my own booking agent. This means I'm still booking more gigs while I'm on the road. I'm not only filling out this tour but already setting up future tours. I'm juggling anywhere from 15-50 correspondences a day to keep the shows coming.

I'm my own tour manager. Once a show's booked, it's gotta be properly advanced. Checking with the venue to make sure all the promo material 1) exists and 2) is accurate. Teaming up with the venue to cross-promote shows online (e.g. the venue inviting their fans to the Facebook Event for a concert, etc.). Contacting the sound guy at each club to give him my rider (i.e. what I'll need onstage). Coordinating promotion with the other artists on the bill. Reaching out to industry folks in each city. Etc.

And while I'm lucky enough to work with a great publicist, I still do a lot of press work. Inviting folks from print media, radio, and the blogosphere to each show? Sure, but first you gotta make the press release, and you've gotta send it to them at least 4-6 weeks in advance of the show. So, another 10-30 correspondences daily for a little press campaign.

Of course, I run my own website. I design it, and I'm responsible for every bit of its content. So, when I get a free minute, I'm updating it daily with new pictures, concert videos, and (obviously) tour blogs from the road. Not to mention adding/changing show information, adding news to the homepage, etc.

Finally, I'm touring solo. This can be a good thing, because it gives me more flexibility in the schedule and the budget, and because playing solo is really fun. But this can also be a bad thing; bands are great company, and feed off each others' energy on the road. To be honest, touring solo can get a little lonely.

So, why on earth would anyone sign up for all of this? Because I LOVE IT. I love every moment of it. I love the good and the bad, the magic and the tedium. When I'm not touring, I get antsy to hit the road again. When I am touring, I'm always anxious for the next stop. It's a blast. And when you've finally advanced the show, and you've done all your promotion, and you get to the city, and you've found a rare moment to warm-up, and you've loaded-in, and sound-checked, the house lights go down, and you finally get to say, "Evening, I'm Chris Milam," and hit that first chord...it's all worth it. At that point, there is no outside stress, no additional job to do, no directions to search, no emails to return. I finally get to do what I love: sing you some songs.

Then, there's the feeling after a set, when I get to meet folks. Anytime someone introduces themselves, says they loved the set, grabs a CD, says they're sending friends in the next town to the show, etc...there's no feeling like it. It absolutely never gets old. For the 30 minutes or 3 hours of showtime, I'm the happiest guy in town.

Whatever town that is. Wait--where am I again?

Some things are never enough,

Coast To Coast #3: It'll All Work Out

noreply@blogger.com (Chris Milam) — Mon, 11 Apr 2011 12:00:00 +0000

Here’s the bad news: it’s 9:31AM Sunday, I’ve got 513 miles to drive, and I’m sitting in a Firestone lobby with car trouble.

Here’s the good news: everything else.

Last we left off, I was about to sound-check for the Portland show. The Woods--a converted funeral home--is seemingly run by only twentysomethings who 1) really know what they’re doing and 2) really enjoy doing it. Most venues are owned/operated by an older crowd, and most places are a little relaxed when it comes to prepping for shows. The Woods gets after it. They’re fantastic.

The show itself was a blast--anytime I can play for open-hearted music fans in a good-sounding room, I’m happy. Met some really nice folks after the set, too. Hope to see y’all again soon.

Travel notes from Portland to Seattle, a drive I made after the show Friday night:

--Growing up, I had an inkling that people in/around Seattle were 15% smarter and cooler than everyone else. Here’s Exhibit Q: there are signs around Olympia for Sleater-Kinney Road (Boulevard? Can’t remember...). Sleater-Kinney, some of you might know, is the Washington-based punk punk. They’re “riot grrrl” icons, frequent tourmates of Pearl Jam, etc. And, evidently, folks in Olympia love their punk bands enough to name streets after them.

--I passed signs for Aberdeen. Aberdeen is the little logging town where Kurt Cobain and Krist Noveselic grow up and, by all accounts, it’s pretty bleak. I don’t know. I didn’t go to Aberdeen. But I will say this: I stopped at a Rest Area near Aberdeen, and was a little scared for my life. You know the scene in the horror/disaster movie where the unwitting victim in the middle of nowhere hears the wind suddenly stop blowing, lights in the stark room flicker, a single light from the ceiling inexplicably swings, etc? I pissed in that scene, and got the hell out.

--No rain! But the traffic/construction/cops-with-radar-guns don’t stop.

The cool thing about these post-show drives to the next city (in the middle of the night) is that I’m always wide awake. It takes me several hours after a show--if ever--to relax. Usually, I spend that time as a useless ball of energy, hanging out at the venue, talking to friends, etc. Even if I go to bed, I can’t sleep. So, I love it when I can put that adrenaline to use, driving when I’m at my most alert. Those are always fun trips.

By the time I got to Seattle, I was just in time to collapse on a good friend’s floor.

Six Hours In Seattle (10AM-4PM):

Step 1: Wake up. Make sure it’s chilly and wet outside.

Step 2: Have really strong coffee.

Step 3: Walk around.

Step 4: Go to a record store. Notice that the first album displayed at the front of the store is--you guessed it--Pearl Jam’s Vitalogy.

Step 5: Go into a local bakery. It’s warm, and it smells like childhood.

Step 6: Take a goofy picture by the Pacific Ocean.

Step 7: Free-sample your way through Pike’s Marketplace. Pay for some food, at some point.

Step 8: There is a store in the market that only sells wind-up toys. Go there and wind everything up. Be an instigator.

Step 9: Gawk at a street performer savant who solves rubix cubes in seconds while hoola-hooping. Remember that Seattle has the highest proportion of geniuses of any American city. Wonder if they’re all weird, too.

Step 10: Thrift stores with 90’s nostalgia leanings.

Step 11: Book stores with Howard Zinn leanings.

Step 12: Find stronger coffee. Talk about spirituality just loud enough that adjacent tables can hear you and feel uncomfortable. Scoff, and say things like, “but that’s so Western!” Is that the sun? Go outside, quick!

Step 13: Free-sample Japanese fro-yo.

Step 14: Take pictures from scenic overlooks.

Step 15: And...stop. Or, if you’re my tourguide, bake a cake, then ride a bike for several miles.

Seattle is awesome. From the show last night, my limited interactions with locals, and just getting a feel for the place, it seems like a mixed-bag. For example: the lineup Saturday was 1) a confessional female singer/songwriter, 2) ME, and 3) a blues-rock trio. All playing at a punk rock club/coffee bar. Everyone’s a little different, but that makes everyone kind of the same. Anything goes. Come as you are.

One fun note: I started the set with a brand new song, “All I Need.” Hopefully I’ll be doing more of that, and can some videos posted on YouTube soon. Sometimes, debuting a new song feels dicey if it’s still being worked out. Last night, “All I Need” felt great. Really looking forward to y’all hearing it!

One late night sushi run and a hopped curb later, I’m here at Firestone. They tell me the things I worried about (alignment, “demolished under carriage,” etc.) are okay, but two tires were nearly bald. They’re putting new shoes on Ruby as I type. In other words, it was lucky that I hopped the curb--it prevented a disaster!

All jokes aside, I have no idea how that off-roading didn’t bust a tire at the very least. Ruby is a fortress. God, I love her.

And love her I will, for another 513 miles.

When it mattered most,
CM

Coast To Coast #2: Higher Place

noreply@blogger.com (Chris Milam) — Fri, 08 Apr 2011 21:35:00 +0000

There are many different types of shows.

There's the "Everything That Could've Gone Wrong--Including Locust Attack--Went Wrong Show."

There's the "Everything That Could've Gone Right--Including Backstage Engagement To Minka Kelly--Went Right Show."

There's everything in between, including the "Good, But Not Memorable Show," the "Grinding It Out Through Illness Show," the "Homecoming As Glorified Excuse To Party and Trade Songs With My Favorite People Show," the "Fun, But Playing At the Wrong Venue Or For the Crowd Show." The list goes on.

I'll be honest: Wednesday's show at the Hotel Cafe in LA wasn't in the "Minka Kelly" category. Don't get me wrong--it was much closer to the "Minka Kelly" category than the "Locust Attack" category. The room's one of my favorites to play. It sounds like heaven, and the staff's great. The crowd was very nice and complimentary after the set, and I made some new friends and fans. All the external stuff went well; I just felt off. Maybe it was first-show-of-the-tour energy, maybe it was singing-too-much-in-the-car throat fatigue, maybe both, maybe something else. I didn't really get settled until the last few songs of the set. Hey, it happens.

I remember when Pearl Jam released their Binaural tour concerts for individual retail. I bought the CDs for the two shows I attended, plus one more that had a really unusual setlist. That happened to be their first show of the tour. Halfway through a pretty sharp set, Eddie apologized to the audience for catching the first show, saying it was their misfortune to hear the band "rehearsing," working out the kinks.

Am I comparing myself to Pearl Jam in this scenario? Sure, why not.

Anyway, after the set, I was still feeling a bit off. Then, I checked my phone to find a few voicemails and texts from friends asking how the set went. I saw a few tweets pumping up the show. I met some folks in the crowd and handed out some CDs. Later that night, I read an email from a friend saying she's enjoying the tour blogs. Another email--from a venue booker across the country--offered me a gig and implored me to "drive safe." Then I spent the rest of the night getting a late dinner and catching up with two old friends.

By night's end, I certainly didn't "feel off." So, what I'm trying to say is this: thank you. Y'all are rocketfuel.

Meanwhile, back on the road...

The good and bad thing about the drive up California and into Oregon: it's gorgeous. This is good because it makes for a really scenic, fun, interesting drive. This is bad because, at some point, you start driving through all those pretty mountains, and then there's a snowstorm, and steep hills, and sharp turns, and semis on the side of the road, and trucks kicking up ice onto the windshield...and this goes on for 150 miles.

By the time I stopped in Medford, Oregon, I was so tired and my eyes so fuzzy that I felt drunk. I had a phone conversation with my brother that I hardly remember before falling asleep in front of a Utah Jazz game.

One night and another 270 miles later, I'm in Portland, Oregon!

Here is what I know about Portland:
1) This song, which is completely awesome, and playing in my headphones as I type this sentence.

2) It has one of the most star-crossed sports franchises of any place not named Cleveland.

3) There is a new show called "Portlandia," which people seem to like and not like.

4) A lot of good music has come out of here in the last 5-10 years: Blitzen Trapper, The Decemberists, anything Carrie Brownstein (Sleater-Kinney) does, etc.

4) Everytime I told someone I was coming through Portland, their immediate response was either:
a) "Ohmygod, I LOVE Portland!" OR
b) "Ohmygod, I want to go to Portland!"

So, this city's got a great publicist. Or, it's just awesome. Or both. After a quick loop of downtown and a few hours hanging out in the very-walkable-super-trendy-yet-relaxed neighborhood of tonight's venue, I'm leaning towards "just awesome." One thing I've already noticed: people here are folksy. Not faux-folksy in a "we demand you spell it S-H-O-P-P-E" way. Really folksy. Landscapers tip their caps to passersby. Baristas look you in the eye. Everyone seems at ease, and nice, but also like they could be dropped in the woods and have a cabin built in thirty minutes.

And, in a twist of quirkiness straight out of "Portlandia," tonight's show is at converted funeral home that rapidly became one of the city's best music venues. And, naturally, it's called The Woods.

Can't wait to play again.

How's your week going?

Coast To Coast #1: Running Down a Dream

noreply@blogger.com (Chris Milam) — Wed, 06 Apr 2011 19:44:00 +0000

As I type this, I'm sitting at a tiny table drinking coffee. It's overcast outside, but it feels perfect. If I walk out the door and look north, the Hollywood sign stares straight at me. The table next to me currently hosts a crazy tarot reading. In other words, I'm in LA!

And, good grief, I am happy to be here.

At 6:15AM (Central) Monday morning, I left Conway, Arkansas in a driving rainstorm. At 5:11PM (Pacific) Tuesday evening, I arrived at my friend's Hollywood casa. Let's break everything in between down really quick:

Miles Traveled: 1689
Ounces of Coffee Consumed: 80-1200 (approx)
Average Speed: 70? (approx)
Hours Driven: 24
Gas Stops: 7
States Seen: 6
Hours slept: 5.5
5 Hour Energy Shots Consumed: 4
Rolling Stones Albums Rocked: 2.5
New mixes created for this particular drive: 2
Muffins Stolen From a Hampton Inn: 1
Speeding Tickets: 0 (Knocking on wood...)

As for the states themselves...

Arkansas:
Arkansas rocks. It's pretty, and the people are really nice, and non-Arkansans sometimes forget about its existence. There are few things I like more than great places that the outside world occasionally ignores. Basically, the state's PR campaign: "Come to Arkansas! Or, if not, more for us!"

I was really excited leaving Monday morning. I hadn't driven/ridden across the southwest since I was nine years old. My family spent the summer of '94 in Los Angeles--we lived in Northridge just a few months before it became the epicenter of that year's earthquake. I remember listening to a TON of George Jones in the car, and seeing so many dead armadillos in Texas that I asked my brother if any armadillos were still alive.

Anyway, the drive through Arkansas gave me the only patch of rain for the trip. Memphis and Nashville readers: you know the crazy tornado-storms you got Monday? That's what I drove through at 6:30AM. But, by the time I hit...

...Oklahoma...

...the sun was up and shining. I'll say this for Oklahoma: it's got a big backyard. Big sky. Big horizon. Big clouds. Shell stations the size of K-Mart. I did a lot of quality thinking in Oklahoma. Here are some of my notes:

--I'm 1/16 Cherokee. Is that enough to get VIP treatment at an Indian casino?

--Why is it that every time I glance into the car beside me, they're already looking at me?

--Heard inside a Shell station outside Oklahoma City: "I could literally eat a whole cow." How often do people mean "literally" when they say "literally"? 8% of the time? 3%?

--I saw real, live tumbleweed. Tumbleweed! Before this week, I wasn't sure it existed.

--Music rec for driving through Oklahoma: My Morning Jacket, "Rollin Back."

Texas:
On I-40W, you only pass through the top peg of Texas (where Amarillo is). So, a relatively short trek. Still, I found time to listen to two full Lyle Lovett albums, some requisite Willie, and count three dead armadillos.

By this time, Ruby (my car) and I were settled into a nice groove: sun shining, tank full of gas, veins full of caffeine. That's when the wind started. Holy Lord, the wind. I heard later that it was up to 60-80mph at points. I tweeted that it was like driving through a Blur video.

Then, I had a minor scare. Here's my list of the worst things that could happen to my car:
1) Anything that prevents it from moving.
2) The stereo breaks.

I went to pop out Lyle Lovett's Pontiac, and "eject" didn't work. Not one day into the tour, I was faced with the prospect of driving cross-country--twice--without a stereo. I panicked A LITTLE. Only after stopping for gas and (I guess?) letting Ruby cool down did the stereo work again without a problem.

Music rec: Lyle Lovett, "She's Hot To Go." Just make sure you can eject the CD.

New Mexico:
As soon as you cross into New Mexico from Texas, the speed limit jumps to 75mph and you gain an hour. It's rejuvenating. Also, the landscape immediately shifts from "plains" to "prairie/desert." New Mexico is really pretty in a weird, almost-cartoonish way. Picture the way an early Mario Brothers video game might represent a "prairie." That's exactly what New Mexico looks like: the late 80's video game parody of itself.

There aren't a ton of gas stations on this drive, especially not Exxon/Mobil's. I have an Exxon card which, you know, comes in handy when you need to get gas and an Exxon is nearby. The bad news: I found exactly one Mobil in New Mexico. The good news: it was pretty awesome.

Billboards started appearing for this Mobil about 100 miles away. Ten miles out, the billboards came two-at-a-time, every mile. For the last few clicks, the billboards simply do not stop. Keep in mind: this is a gas station, attached to a Dairy Queen, attached to a large gift store that sold kitschy "desert things." That's the whole place. It's advertised like a new Vegas casino.

Anyway, the Coke (glass bottle!) I bought there was delicious and the cashier was exceedingly nice. She pointed me to the restroom with map-maker's precision, and maternally suggested I wear a jacket.

Also, staying the night in Albuquerque is nice. I can assure Breaking Bad fans that nothing meth-related happened to me.

Music rec: Monsters of Folk, "Say Please"

New Mexico, Arizona, and California:
From New Mexico to Arizona to California, the landscape shifts from "prairie" to "desert" to "pine tree-lined hills" to "straight up mountains" in a big, awesome way. It's a really fun drive. There's also a ton of it. To wit:

America! Take that!

Music rec: Kings of Leon, "Arizona" and Phantom Planet, "California"

I won't bore you with the final 10 hours of the trip. However, I will bore you with this: there are two hours when you cross into California, before you hit Barstow, where there is nothing. There was maybe one gas station. There is one road, no turns. One range of mountains visible in the distance that (somehow) never gets closer. There are no other cars, no gas stations, no place to rest. Just straight, desolate, stark, wind-torn desert, straight with heat lines hovering above the road and mirages in the distance. I'm pretty sure the devil appeared to tempt me three times, and I'm pretty sure I resisted.

Pretty sure.

Anyway, by the time I hit the 101, I was never so happy to be stuck in standstill traffic. As I've mentioned before, I love LA. I love the Hotel Cafe. And I've done nothing for two days straight but store up all my crazy energy, sing along with the stereo, and count the minutes til I play again. Can't wait to let it out tonight.

See ya then:
April 6, Hotel Cafe
7PM (sharp--they run a tight ship), 21+

And I'll blog again real soon from the road, complete with pictures and videos from the shows. Stay tuned!

Working on a mystery,
CM

Coast To Coast: Spring Tour 2K11

noreply@blogger.com (Chris Milam) — Mon, 04 Apr 2011 14:00:00 +0000

More dates TBA soon!

Okay, real quick:

Today kicks off my spring tour. I'm calling it Coast To Coast, since I'm playing shows on both coasts. Clever, yes? As you're reading this, I'm already somewhere on I40-West. Maybe Texas, maybe New Mexico, maybe all the way to California...who knows?

So, what does this mean?

Blogging:
Tours mean running tour blogs. I'll be posting regularly from the road--sometimes a lot, sometimes a little. To stay up, you can subscribe here.

Facebook/Twitter:
I'll be tweeting and posting pictures on the regular. Find me on Twitter and Facebook for all the in-betweens.

YouTube:
I'll be posting video clips from the shows and funny stuff backstage, so be sure to subscribe to the YouTube Channel.

Shows:
If I'm playing near you, come say hey! If I'm playing near a friend, tell 'em what's up. With touring, a little word of mouth goes a long way. Y'all have been amazing about spreading the word in the past, and I can't wait to see so many of you again soon!

Here's the show schedule (more dates to be added, so check here for all the latest):

See y'all soon!
CM

Song of the Week: Beatles, "Golden Slumbers"

noreply@blogger.com (Chris Milam) — Fri, 01 Apr 2011 13:00:00 +0000

Throughout this series, I've varied my reasons for each Song of the Week choice. Some songs I picked because of their influence on today's pop charts. Some were just fun to hear and enjoy musically. Some I've chosen for more academic reasons. And some songs I chose because...well, you chose them for me.

But for Abbey Road, I wanted to make it more personal. As much as I love this album musically, I love it even more autobiographically; I've lived with it. I wanted this week's song to be my strongest memory off an album full of them:

Song of the Week, The Beatles' "Golden Slumbers" (Abbey Road)

I've always been an insomniac. Maybe it's different for others, but my bouts of insomnia come in waves. In fourth and fifth grade, I had a very hard time sleeping. One day, the problem disappeared. It resurfaced sporadically throughout high school. But it wasn't until college that I really made insomnia part of my lifestyle, a fact of life I worked around rather than tried to fix.

Picture me, first few months of college: a little dorm room all to myself, a schedule all to myself and, for the first time, my own computer with high-speed internet. So, I did what all the guys on my hall did: downloaded a TON of music.

(Wait--what were you thinking I'd say?)

I tried everything. Hear about an artist but didn't want to buy a full album? Download a song. Those classic cult bands I'd always been curious about? Download a song. All the rarities and b-sides of my favorite artists? Download a song. For the first few months, it was a feeding frenzy. I couldn't get enough. In this span, I first heard (and fell in love with) everyone from The Smiths to Fugazi, from Phantom Planet to Whiskeytown.

Plus, I finally transferred all my old favorites onto my computer. I consolidated my rapidly growing musical library. I finally had all my Beatles and Motown and Pearl Jam and Dylan in one spot, right next to all my new favorites.

It was heaven.

Sometime during this musical maelstrom I found time to date a girl. I liked her for many reasons, but one of them was this: she was a great sleeper. She never had any problem sleeping, and she never had any problem staying asleep (by-product of a clear conscience, I suppose). And--I've never seen anything quite like it--she smiled when she was asleep. Her natural resting expression was a grin. I always wondered what she was dreaming of.

So, I admired her gift for sleep. She slept for the both of us. And I'd stay up with headphones on and (kind of) do homework and (really) to the Smiths' "Shoplifters Of the World Unite." Or, depending on how much coffee I'd had, Fugazi's "Epic Problem." Or Temple of the Dog's "All Night Thing." But at some point in every all-nighter, I listened to "Golden Slumbers." It became a tradition: every late night, Paul sang a wasted lullaby into my headphones, making me wish I was sleepy, making me nostalgic for something I never really had.

Not long after, "Golden Slumbers" became the first lullaby I learned to play and sing myself. It was the catalyst for what became an endless string of lullabies I'd attempt when I began writing my own songs. To this day, it's my creative starting point, a home base I always return to. Writers-blocked? Up late? Stressed about something? Take a breath, listen to "Golden Slumbers" and write a lullaby.

And the magic isn't just that the song's as beautiful and impacting now as it was back then. It's that every time I hear it, I can smell that dorm room. I can smell the exact Glade Plug-In scent ("Rainshower"). I can see the soft light from my desk lamp. I hear steady breath and remember that sleeping grin and wonder where those dreams took her.

Meanwhile, I'm wide awake. I'm writing this post at 2AM and I'm listening to Abbey Road. I don't want to go back to college. I've never been one to look back. But the right song means I don't have to: I can see it all from here.

YouTube Concert #7

noreply@blogger.com (Chris Milam) — Wed, 30 Mar 2011 14:00:00 +0000

Happy Wednesday!

For those of you catching up, I'm posting a performance on YouTube every week: eight videos, six covers, two originals debuted, and one bonus.

Here's #1: Big Star's "Thirteen"
And #2: The Beatles', "It's Only Love"
#3: Simon & Garfunkel's "America"
#4: Chris Milam, "Never In Love"
#5: Beach Boys', "I'm Waiting For the Day"
#6: Amy Winehouse's, "Love Is a Losing Game"
BONUS: Ardent Presents Chris Milam
***Click here for the full playlist

And now, here's #7. Enjoy!

Song of the Week: Beatles, "Dig a Pony"

noreply@blogger.com (Chris Milam) — Fri, 25 Mar 2011 13:00:00 +0000

Before I dig in to this week's song (pun intended), a bit of clarification for Beatles nerds and non-nerds alike.

Folks never really know what to do with the last two Beatles albums, Let It Be and Abbey Road. Because Let It Be was recorded before but released after Abbey Road, labeling "the last Beatles album" becomes difficult. And since I'm going through their discography "chronologically," I had a decision to make: which album would I tackle first for Song of the Week?

I'm making Abbey Road "last" for two reasons:
1) It was made last, so in the actual chronology of the Beatles' work, this makes sense.
2) It's just a better, more fitting swan song than Let It Be.

So, for now, let's rock out to...

Song of the Week, The Beatles "Dig a Pony" (Let It Be):

I love "Dig a Pony" for several reasons, but I picked it for one: it's the best example of what 1) the Beatles wanted to do with this album 2) the Beatles did with this album and 3) John Lennon valued most in his music.

About #1 and #2:
The original title of Let It Be was Get Back. The idea was to play simple, roots-based rock, live as a band, without studio frills or sonic experimentation. In other words, Get Back was to be the opposite of Sgt. Pepper--a return to basics for the Beatles. This was the Beatles coming full circle, right down to the inclusion of "One After 909," one of the first Lennon/McCartney songs written. True to form, Let It Be is full of live performances and straightforward rhythm-n-blues: "Dig It," "Maggie Mae," "I've Got a Feeling," "One After 909," "For You Blue," and, to a degree, "Get Back."

But "Dig a Pony" is my favorite of the bunch. It juxtaposes two things that made the Beatles so special: 1) nobody played simple R&B better, and 2) the Beatles were too good to do something simply. "Dig a Pony" can sound as predictable or as unexpected as you want it to sound. The song's structure is easy enough, but the main riff is a rhythmic wonder. The chorus is as simple as they come, but the way they earn that chorus (individual harmonies, George's escalating guitar fills) is layered and complex.

In other words, "Dig a Pony" sounds like what it is: a band returning to its roots, but with eight years of experience and maturation to aid them. It's the best of both worlds: their early love for straight-ahead rock with their late-era maturity and craftsmanship.

About #3:
A few weeks ago, I wrote affectionately about "It's Only Love," despite John Lennon's public disdain for it. You're not going to believe this, but he claimed to hate "Dig a Pony" too. He once called it "a piece of garbage." And once again, he's wrong.

Lyrically, "Dig a Pony" is 96% nonsense--a barrage of non sequiturs and goofy wordplay biding time until the chorus. That's perhaps what Lennon didn't like about the song (he was critical of "It's Only Love's" lyrics, too). But that's also what I love about it.

In another song, the nonsense lyrics of the verse would be a detriment; here, they're accounted for. Lennon--like anyone in love might--rambles through verses, makes jokes, beats around the bush, and inarticulately expresses everything but the one thing he's dying to say. The breakthrough of the chorus echoes a moment in T.S. Eliot's "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock," where a frustrated, rambling narrator exclaims, "It is impossible to say just what I mean!"

Finally, John Lennon does say just what he means. The chorus breaks through the confusion with a gorgeous, cathartic moment of clarity. He screams the only thing he really wants to say: all I want is you. That's it. That's the whole song: all I want is YOU. It's such a powerful--and well-earned--moment of catharsis that you can see it transform John's face as he's singing it (1:59) and immediately after (his relieved, overjoyed "ahhs!" with Paul's "woo!" at 2:12).

You can't NOT feel that.

This is a classic "John song," right down to his public denial of it. Although Lennon was probably the most "avant garde" Beatle, he was maybe the least cerebral. Through all his experimentation--with spirituality, drugs, musical styles, production techniques, etc--he was looking for a new means of expression, not a new mode of thinking. In "A Day In the Life"--perhaps the best example of Lennon/McCartney avant garde songwriting--Lennon's repeated line is "I'd love to turn you on." That's not only the song's refrain; that's Lennon's mission statement. First and foremost, he wants to make you feel.

It's what Chuck Berry, and Elvis, and Little Richard, and all of rock's pioneers wanted, too. That feeling is what inspired the Beatles to pick up instruments. And, after years of mind-bending albums, it's what the Beatles wanted to return to with Let It Be: pure, simple, exciting rock and roll. Maybe more than any other song on the album, "Dig a Pony" achieves that goal. For all its nonsense, it makes sense in the most fundamental way. It speaks to the heart and soul instead of the head.

Dig a moondog,
CM

YouTube Concert (Bonus Edition!)

noreply@blogger.com (Chris Milam) — Wed, 23 Mar 2011 13:00:00 +0000

(We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming--YouTube Concerts every Wednesday--to bring you a little something extra.)

Back in February, the folks at Ardent Studios asked me to be a part of their long-running Ardent Presents series. They bring in different artists to perform a short set in their studio, record it, videotape it, and then release it. Ardent's been home to legends, icons, and heroes, from Dylan to Zeppelin, from BB King to Big Star, and everyone in between. So, it was a real honor to be a part of this series.

Now, I'm happy to announce that my Ardent Presents is up! Enjoy:

Read the piece they asked me to write about my experience.

Listen to/download the mp3:
(Note: Click the down arrow on the player's right sidebar to download the full session):
Ardent Presents: Chris Milam by Ardent Presents

Watch these two videos: (more coming!)

Doing this was an incredible experience. I hope y'all have as much fun watching/listening as I did playing it.

More soon,
CM