D Nuts || December 11, 2008
Was just back through town last week to visit family and such. A few thoughts.
ITEM: Dallas' public smoking ban apparently passed through city council yesterday. Its April '09 launch couldn't be stopped by panicky resistance from people with money: bar owners, restaurant owners, people who can afford to smoke.
I call BS on the "15 foot rule"; if you want an indoor smoking ban, pick a realistic distance from front doors and patio entryways. (Really, you expect people to walk further than Julius Jones could run in a typical Cowboys rushing play?) Otherwise, it'll be interesting to see if Dallas' music-friendly spots stick to the ban. I certainly hope so, because after only two nights around Dallas, I found myself hawking up black gunk.
As I've always said, secondhand smoke is the crap even smokers don't want. They exhale it for some reason, I assume. But it'd cost too much to get landlords to get any airflow through the ramshackle holes that most bands perform in. And let's not forget, the only major cities with good music scenes and no smoking bans are Dallas and... what, Birmingham? I don't even know.
Enjoy reducing your chances of random, inexplicable cancers when you turn 43, folks. The music isn't going to die.
ITEM: Though you'd think so walking through The Door and The Prophet Bar. I caught a few bands at the latter last week--showed up just in time to miss the dandy Denton duo RTB2, thanks to a show that started on real time, not Dallas time. The fuck, Russell Hobbs?
In case you missed it, the Gypsy Tea Room's two sides are open again. The big room is the new home of The Door, and it's kinda eerie in there if you knew the GTR ballroom well. The bar in the middle has been gutted, presumably to station a cream soda tap for the kids, and a second stage has been hoisted up so acoustic teenagers can croon between headlining screamo bands (still ca-raaazy after the move all the way down Elm St). The Prophet Bar, meanwhile, is the old small room mostly intact, save the old posters and Blind Lemon Jefferson photo behind the stage. And the sound guy. The Theater Fire and Dove Hunter sounded like half of what they are, because that's all we got in the audience--kiss any sense of range or vocal levels goodbye while Danny Douchebag's working the knobs.
Seems like the space is lining up big-name shows, but what's the point? That DART light rail line, still under construction, will open in a few years with round-the-clock stops around the ghost town that Deep Ellum has become. No biggie for me; the place was best when it was a warehouse district, anyway, right? I stopped at Campagna's art gallery while down there, which had a badass freak-jazz explosion happening at the time. No yuppies or cruisers in sight. Just the people willing to chop through the thicket and find a gem in the deepest of Elms.
ITEM: You know who's pretty promising? Daniel Folmer. I'm late to the game, assuredly, but the kid's still 23, so I say there's no rush. The Carrolton native is pulling off a beautiful sort of country-tinged codeine overdose that passed out between The Promise Ring and early Bright Eyes. I'm sure he'd kill me for putting him halfway twixt those, but even if it's not quite accurate, it's a compliment. His songwriting is attractively earnest pre-emo, and his ear for rigid, memorable songs is strangely unique around town these days. Folmer's gig at the Cavern on Monday night started off boring, but he grew a pair by set's end and began earning the heartbreak his lyrics strive toward.
ITEM: Baptist Generals' new record could be done soon? So sayeth Chris Flemmons, who I ran into in my three hours in Denton last week. (Didn't you hear? He's the town cryer; greets all dishonorably discharged music writers when they approach the Denton Square. That'd be cool, actually.)
Says he scrapped previous recordings of the band to work 'em all out again, but this time--THIS TIME, indeed--the band's on the home stretch. Five years have gone into this record, a piddling number in the face of Axl Rose's November 2008 rain, but it's been an eternity for the Sub Pop dudes down the block from my current home base. He expects any finished product to be held for a Fall '09 release. Until he sends me the full album, I will not believe him. I hope this threat is bait enough.
But I have a bit more faith in the claim, because Flemmons also snuck me a copy of the new Bosque Brown record--whose completion, he says, has been the spark behind gaining traction on the BG disc. He says BB lead singer Mara Lee Miller agreed to have Flemmons on board as producer for the band's second full-length because "I told her that they wrote great, beautiful songs, but they were fucking boring." The band was fine with the assessment, apparently, and took the opportunity to try new things on Baby, which should see release this coming March...ish. Didn't get a confirmed date. But I can confirm that the disc is a treat, a fine mix of the band's traditional approach, some sparking experiments, and a three-part series of miniature, a capella songs that continue to fill my ears when I'm outside and everything else is silent. Dear Lord, friends.
Flemmons also went on about NX35, the "conferette" that will be held in Denton the weekend before SXSW this year. I'll wait until that fest nears to hype it, but suffice it to say, Flemmons has friends near and far that should turn pre-SouthBy into a veritable coup for the northern half of music-loving Texas.
ITEM: Speaking of hopeless faith in local music, I hear people still read this site. To the few of you, know that I miss writing about Texas music, but it's a bastard to do this so far away. I hope you understand that I prefer silence from my distant post over tired retreads of the same seven bands... if barely. Thanks for reading.
ITEM: Dallas' public smoking ban apparently passed through city council yesterday. Its April '09 launch couldn't be stopped by panicky resistance from people with money: bar owners, restaurant owners, people who can afford to smoke.
I call BS on the "15 foot rule"; if you want an indoor smoking ban, pick a realistic distance from front doors and patio entryways. (Really, you expect people to walk further than Julius Jones could run in a typical Cowboys rushing play?) Otherwise, it'll be interesting to see if Dallas' music-friendly spots stick to the ban. I certainly hope so, because after only two nights around Dallas, I found myself hawking up black gunk.
As I've always said, secondhand smoke is the crap even smokers don't want. They exhale it for some reason, I assume. But it'd cost too much to get landlords to get any airflow through the ramshackle holes that most bands perform in. And let's not forget, the only major cities with good music scenes and no smoking bans are Dallas and... what, Birmingham? I don't even know.
Enjoy reducing your chances of random, inexplicable cancers when you turn 43, folks. The music isn't going to die.
ITEM: Though you'd think so walking through The Door and The Prophet Bar. I caught a few bands at the latter last week--showed up just in time to miss the dandy Denton duo RTB2, thanks to a show that started on real time, not Dallas time. The fuck, Russell Hobbs?
In case you missed it, the Gypsy Tea Room's two sides are open again. The big room is the new home of The Door, and it's kinda eerie in there if you knew the GTR ballroom well. The bar in the middle has been gutted, presumably to station a cream soda tap for the kids, and a second stage has been hoisted up so acoustic teenagers can croon between headlining screamo bands (still ca-raaazy after the move all the way down Elm St). The Prophet Bar, meanwhile, is the old small room mostly intact, save the old posters and Blind Lemon Jefferson photo behind the stage. And the sound guy. The Theater Fire and Dove Hunter sounded like half of what they are, because that's all we got in the audience--kiss any sense of range or vocal levels goodbye while Danny Douchebag's working the knobs.
Seems like the space is lining up big-name shows, but what's the point? That DART light rail line, still under construction, will open in a few years with round-the-clock stops around the ghost town that Deep Ellum has become. No biggie for me; the place was best when it was a warehouse district, anyway, right? I stopped at Campagna's art gallery while down there, which had a badass freak-jazz explosion happening at the time. No yuppies or cruisers in sight. Just the people willing to chop through the thicket and find a gem in the deepest of Elms.
ITEM: You know who's pretty promising? Daniel Folmer. I'm late to the game, assuredly, but the kid's still 23, so I say there's no rush. The Carrolton native is pulling off a beautiful sort of country-tinged codeine overdose that passed out between The Promise Ring and early Bright Eyes. I'm sure he'd kill me for putting him halfway twixt those, but even if it's not quite accurate, it's a compliment. His songwriting is attractively earnest pre-emo, and his ear for rigid, memorable songs is strangely unique around town these days. Folmer's gig at the Cavern on Monday night started off boring, but he grew a pair by set's end and began earning the heartbreak his lyrics strive toward.
ITEM: Baptist Generals' new record could be done soon? So sayeth Chris Flemmons, who I ran into in my three hours in Denton last week. (Didn't you hear? He's the town cryer; greets all dishonorably discharged music writers when they approach the Denton Square. That'd be cool, actually.)
Says he scrapped previous recordings of the band to work 'em all out again, but this time--THIS TIME, indeed--the band's on the home stretch. Five years have gone into this record, a piddling number in the face of Axl Rose's November 2008 rain, but it's been an eternity for the Sub Pop dudes down the block from my current home base. He expects any finished product to be held for a Fall '09 release. Until he sends me the full album, I will not believe him. I hope this threat is bait enough.
But I have a bit more faith in the claim, because Flemmons also snuck me a copy of the new Bosque Brown record--whose completion, he says, has been the spark behind gaining traction on the BG disc. He says BB lead singer Mara Lee Miller agreed to have Flemmons on board as producer for the band's second full-length because "I told her that they wrote great, beautiful songs, but they were fucking boring." The band was fine with the assessment, apparently, and took the opportunity to try new things on Baby, which should see release this coming March...ish. Didn't get a confirmed date. But I can confirm that the disc is a treat, a fine mix of the band's traditional approach, some sparking experiments, and a three-part series of miniature, a capella songs that continue to fill my ears when I'm outside and everything else is silent. Dear Lord, friends.
Flemmons also went on about NX35, the "conferette" that will be held in Denton the weekend before SXSW this year. I'll wait until that fest nears to hype it, but suffice it to say, Flemmons has friends near and far that should turn pre-SouthBy into a veritable coup for the northern half of music-loving Texas.
ITEM: Speaking of hopeless faith in local music, I hear people still read this site. To the few of you, know that I miss writing about Texas music, but it's a bastard to do this so far away. I hope you understand that I prefer silence from my distant post over tired retreads of the same seven bands... if barely. Thanks for reading.
posted by Sam M. at 3:07 AM
3 comment(s)
