Louie's Bucket of Bones Ribs Ironton I knew something was wrong with the Minnesota Monthly's list of "Best Minnesota Barbeque" when Ted Cook's was ignored in favor of C&G's. Which--come on. Anyway, circumstance led us to be very near Ironton, Minnesota, home of the #7 BBQ joint on the magazine's list, Louie's Bucket Of Bones. So I dragged Libby and her North Country entourage along to give it a shot. And as you can imagine from the opening sentence of this post, none of us walked away terribly impressed. Which surprised us, because everything about this place makes it seem like it's going to be amazing; from the funky exterior, to the homemade menu, to the incredibly personable and gracious owner and her passionate descriptions of their cooking process, the place definitely has the feeling that you're experiencing something special. And then the food comes, and it just doesn't live up to the hype. Nothing was bad, at all. It was all competent and good and fine. But it was nothing that you couldn't get anywhere else. The ribs were a little tough, the sauce tasted sort of generic, etc. I'm calling it "BBQ Theater." Full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. The two staff members of Ted Cook's (or, say, Arthur Bryant's in KC) may yell at you from behind the kitchen wall and disdain your very presence, but the food is amazing. This was sort of the opposite. Which is fine, I guess. If I lived up there, I'd probably go there often enough (just for the atmosphere if anything), but don't bother making the 2.5 hour drive just to do it.
Bar Harbor Cheeseburger Nisswa My new least favorite thing at restaurants: secondary menus. Bar menus, pub menus, patio menus, whatever. I had a lame experience at Mabel Murphy's in Fergus Falls a few weeks back, where I was sitting in the "pub" section of the restaurant, where they give you a different menu than the dining room. In that case, they at least let you order off the main menu if you ask for it, but they definitely didn't go out of their way to let me know that before I ordered off the pub menu. And now, up at Scott's cabin, I got to order from a "patio menu"! (We were sitting on the patio, you see). This time, with my Fergus Falls experience fresh in my mind, I smelled that something was up, and asked about the dining room menu. And they said 'yes,' they did have one, but we weren't allowed to order from it on the patio. Ugh. So I got a bacon cheeseburger, I guess, and it wasn't great and was very expensive. But at least we were on a patio, lesser customers or not.
Day By Day Cafe Sausage hash St. Paul I was first excited when I overheard a server at the Day By Day mention that Carl Pavano was eating breakfast out on their patio. They even mentioned something about a mustache. But later in the day it occurred to me that the Twins had a 1:00 game that afternoon, and Carl Pavano was most likely nowhere near Day By Day's patio, nor was he eating breakfast anywhere at that moment. Plus, the italian sausage has I ordered barely qualifies as "hash."
3 Tiers "Elvis" Cupcake South Minneapolis 3 Tiers is now offering peanut butter, bacon, and banana cupcakes. And they are awesome. Take note, trendy hipster cupcake joints: this is the shit you should be doing!
Glaciers Cafe Chili dog South Minneapolis Well, my second stab at Glaciers in a week, and I must say... I'm still impressed. Vienna beef chili dog with some solid homemade chili, Libby had a totally respectable flatbread pizza. And we finally tried their frozen custard, which was fast-melting but otherwise perfect. Still, there's something off about the place; something between the service and the atmosphere and the menu that just does nothing to help their otherwise above-par food offerings. Too much blue, I think. Seriously. Read the link...
Charlies Cafe Steak sandwich Freeport Oh, by the way, I forgot to write about how I went to Charlie's Cafe in Freeport, MN on the way to visit a giant TV tower in North Dakota. It was supposedly the inspiration for the make believe cafe in Garrison Keillor's Lake Woebegone universe (universe?). It was okay.
Glaciers Cafe Chicken sandwich South Minneapolis Glaciers is one of those places that, until very recently, I had never even considered considering. I hardly even knew what it was; all I knew of it was just a overly-slick mountain logo on a couple signs near the Town Talk. Coffee shop? Smoothie stand? Tibetan bakery? Close. Turns out it's a frozen custard place first and foremost. That explains the glaciers. And they have breakfast. And burgers. And pizzas and sandwiches? I only decided to try it because I saw an ad in the City Pages that had a photo of a burger on it. I'll be totally honest: the place needs a lot of help. The interior is neither exciting nor intimate. The design of everything is pretty amateurish, in a bad way. And the service was fairly slow, as it seemed like there were just two teenagers running the whole place. But hot diggity dog the sandwich was outstanding! Plus it came with "Kansas City style" cole slaw, which was like no other cole slaw I've ever had. So in the end, even though I didn't have any of their (supposedly very good) frozen custard, I'm left feeling like Glaciers could be a really great place. But right now it just makes me sad.
Loring Kitchen and Bar Meatloaf and ribs Downtown Minneapolis I can't believe I'm at a point in my life where I can be let down by a menu. But here we are. I heard this place was good, found myself in Loring Park, and got a nice table outside on their patio. Then I looked at the menu, and it was just so boring. So boring, in fact, that I can't even remember what was on it at the moment to make fun of it. They did have some halfway interesting looking small plates, so that's what I did. Chorizo meatloaf (easily the most interesting item they had), barbeque ribs, and roasted brussel sprouts with bacon and blue cheese. And for as boring as it all sounds, it was all surprisingly fantastic; especially the brussel sprouts. I'm actually salivating thinking about them right now. The meatloaf was #2, and the ribs a respectable third (they were really good at the time, but afterwards I started thinking that they weren't all that special). So while I actually ended up being happy with the place, I've already exhausted my options there. So I guess that's that.
Midtown Farmers Market Hot dog, steak taco South Minneapolis Libby dragged me, kicking and screaming and kvetching even, to the Midtown Farmers Market. This was a compromise of sorts, after the previous Saturday's trip to the downtown Farmer's Market, which had all the human cattle of the State Fair, without the upside of having actual cattle. (I can ignore the inhumanity of the State Fair only for the potential that I might get to touch a mammal with multiple stomachs. Libby can ignore the same inhumanity of the Farmer's Market only for the potential that she might find some good lettuce. Which elsewhere is currently making its way to a cow's second stomach. A free range cow, mind you, that will someday be sectioned off and sold. Possibly at a farmer's market.) The Midtown Market is much more negotiable than the big downtown one, and actually had better on-site lunch options to boot. We shared a hot dog from the Magic Bus, which is a worthy competitor to the Chef Shack in the much-appreciated world of gourmet traveling food trucks. I'd still give Chef Shack the slight edge, not only because their food is a little more well-conceived, but you also don't have the indignity of ordering from a human cartoon in a Grateful Dead shirt and a flower crown. We also got a steak taco from Taco Taxi, which I've never seen around town before, but was quite delicious. Good steak, cilantro and onions and radish, and fresh, spicy salsa, and for just $2, which at the farmer's market is the same amount it would cost you to buy a bunch of cilantro, 7 onions, 12 radishes, a jar of homemade salsa, and two cow stomachs.
Grocery Stores 5th Avenue bar South Minneapolis You know the feeling you get when you eat a Butterfinger bar? That feeling like you just ate something magical, yet your teeth are coated with quick-dry plaster? Awful. As much as love Butterfingers, I hardly ever eat them, because I don't consider physical misery to be part of a pleasant eating experience (* see: Lotus of Siam). So shame on me for never having tried a 5th Avenue bar. You've probably seen them before: they're in the Sadness section of your local grocer, decked out in the same packaging they've had since 1930, in between the RC Cola and the 100 Grand bars. But these things are great! They taste just like Butterfingers, but without all the baggage. I think the chocolate/peanut butter ratio is much closer; they're about the same width, while 5th Avenues are only half the height. And the crispy, crunchy, peanut buttery (TM) inside is just slightly less sweet and sticky, and therefore more easily masticated than a Butterfinger. I need to stock up on some crates of these things, because I get the feeling that Hersheys is waiting for the last of America's 70+ set to die out so they can finally stop making these things, because I'm not sure if anyone born after the depression buys them.
Subo Some stir fried noodle thing Downtown Minneapolis "Subo" is Filipino, I guess, for "eat". Or "food". Or something like that. I don't really remember. But their logo has a fork and a spoon in it, so that's gotta be close. Anyway, I didn't find it to be nearly as exotic or impressive as the press has made it seem. Which is too bad, because I was hoping for something new and good downtown. It wasn't bad, but it was just nothing to write home about. Mostly small plate offerings; "tapas style," the waiter said. I'd complain about it being some cheesy attempt at fusion, until I remember that the Philippines itself is a bit of a fusion nation, thanks to our old Spanish pal Ferdinand Magellan. Oh wait--he was Portuguese. The point is, I tried three different things: Green curry potato cakes, pork spring rolls, and a dish that was sort of a combination of pad thai and paella. Considering the fire and passion displayed by the Filipino people that brutally killed Magellan with rocks and clubs on the shallow shores of Mactan, you'd think they'd have a little excitement in their cuisine. But mostly it was just salty.
Kokomos Jamaican pork something Bloomington I had to walk past the front entrance about 5 times before I built up the courage to actually walk into Kokomo. You know the place, right? Up on the third floor of the Mall of America? Across from the Forest Gump restaurant? Looks like it was designed by the gay brother of a cartoon witch doctor on an ether binge? Yeah, that's the place. I probably don't need to tell you how the food tastes, or what led me to eat there to begin with, but I will quote for one of their menu options: Bob Marley's Soup Of The Day. Just ask your beach staff for Bob’s favorite bowl of soup! Lobster bisque, if you were wondering. Wow.
Uptown Cafeteria Chicken and waffles Uptown Minneapolis Uptown is stupid. So stupid. Urban outfitters is stupid. North Face and Columbia and the Apple store are stupid. Calhoun Square is stupid. Chino Latino and Stella's and Il Gatto are stupid. The Uptown Cafeteria is stupid, and everybody that was there on Thursday was stupid. It's all stupid. The chicken and waffles, however, were fantastic. Dammit.
Szechuan Boiled beef in szechuan sauce Roseville City Pages named Szechuan the best Chinese restaurant of 2010. I can't say that it's not. But what I can say is that you shouldn't order the boiled beef in szechuan sauce if you actually plan on enjoying yourself the day after.
Pop! Steak sandwich Northeast Minneapolis First time back to Pop in a long, long, time (years?), and I was not disappointed in the least. In fact, I realized that I've never had a bad meal at Pop. Everything has been somewhere on the scale of good-to-great, this steak sandwich approaching the 'great' part. The only minor gripe I have is that they need to consider changing up their menu; it seems to be exactly the same as it was last time I went there, whenever that was.
Wagners Drive-In BBQ beef sandwich Brooklyn Center Totally worth the drive. It's a real, honest-to-god drive-in, and the service is friendly and the barbeque sauce was actually homemade. It's too perfect.
Brasa Beef and chicken St. Paul It is believed that about 1.8 million years ago, random genetic mutations in a series of generations of Homo Erectus (or, arguably, Homo Antecessor) led him to find himself with a larger brain and smaller teeth than his ancestors, which in turn led him to heat his food over fire in order to more efficiently chew and digest it. Some scientists may argue the timeline of this genetic and behavioral shift, many believing that it happened closer to 700,000 years ago, while many others, mostly those of a hard-line Christian faith, believe man was placed on this earth with inherent and unquestioned knowledge about the cooking of our food only 4,000 years ago by a singular, omnipresent creator. And now we have Brasa.
Al Vento Lamb bolognese South Minneapolis It somehow took us 6 months, but Libby and I finally at dinner at Al Vento last night. Yes, I've had it quite a few times before (mostly lunches), but this was our first official dinner there as neighbors. And it was super good. Even better than my bolognese was the blue prawn appetizer we had. Despite the fact that prawns look like freaky little aliens, I enjoyed it thoroughly. Some sort of white bean sauce with citrus. Who knows. It was great though, and respectably affordable. And I spilled all over my shirt, too, so that's cool.
Colossal Cafe Eggs and sausage South Minneapolis So Libby and I decided to try out the Colossal Cafe this morning for breakfast, only to find a camera crew filming for an episode of Drive Ins, Diners and Dives on the Food Network. At first I figured maybe we'd just be in the background while we were waiting in line, but after we sat down outside waiting for our food, it became clear that they were definitely going to do something with us. Libby ordered some fancy pancakes with apples and brie, and I ordered a plain old eggs/hash browns/sausage plate. As soon as the food came, we were swarmed by a camera, boom mic, and jovial producer who immediately started making small talk with us (he was clearly a master of making small talk with complete strangers). And they filmed us eating. So weird. I'm fully aware that I eat like a slob, but suddenly when there is a big professional HD camera 10 inches away from my plate, following my every move, eating became some sort of controlled, choreographed mission to keep my damn fingers out of the ketchup. I think I succeeded. So then after they left us alone to finish our meals, they came right back for the interview portion. Now, I was comfortable with the idea of speaking on camera, but I was sort of intimidated by the speed and certainty of the film crew. It wasn't really a case of them asking if we wanted to talk and giving us time to think... they simply surrounded us and started questioning. And I was awful. I kept looking at Libby and looking down the street, and the producer guy (bless his heart) kept reminding me to look at him. And I had nothing to say. Which is funny, because I sit and write crap about food all the time on this website. But the meal I ordered was so normal, that the only thing I could manage to talk about was the homemade sausage. And how it was homemade. They make it there, I think. Like, homemade sausage. WIth fennel in it, maybe? Idiot. What I really wanted to talk about was how I'd thought for years that the Colossal was a vegetarian/vegan diner, and it was only last week that I was informed otherwise. But all I could get out was "sausage good." Oh, I also described the toast as "beefy." Jesus. Libby was much better, and I'll bet she makes the final cut. I certainly won't.
Target Field Chili Downtown Minneapolis Target Field Update! The Loon chili totally had steak in it this time! No ground beef! And it was spicier than it was last time, too. So good.
Hogan Brothers Corned beef sandwich Northfield Hogan Brothers seems to make a decent sandwich. Fine. But more importantly, the city of Northfield really does smell like Malt-O-Meal. I always thought that was some sort of rumor or joke or wive's tale. But no. It's like sticking your face into a newly opened bag of Marshmallow Mateys. Crazy.
The Sports Page Cheeseburger Bloomington Well, the old Sports Page is gone, but not entirely. Turns out they just renovated and expanded it, not move it completely. And while it's a little bit of a bummer to not have the same Sports Page experience with all the newly painted walls and much larger bar and kitchen, the food is still good, and the prices are the same. Still, the same joy I used to experience at the place is gone. Oh well. It was nice while it lasted.
Target Field Everything Downtown Minneapolis - Loon Cafe chili
We all know that I love the Loon's chili. Best in the city. So I was pretty excited when I found out they'd be using the Loon recipe for Target Field's chili. With a couple understandable exceptions (ground beef instead of brisket/roast, no sour cream or other garnishes), it actually tasted quite good. Also, for $6, you get a pretty good sized portion. They definitely don't skimp.
- Kramarczuk polish sausage
Paul and I tried finding a Kramarczuk booth before the game, which was no easy task given the insane amount of human traffic in the main concourse. But when we eventually spotted it, the lines on both sides were zonkers. At least 50 people deep. I eventually found another one in the 2nd inning, and got a polish sausage with fried onions. It was clearly a good quality sausage, but unfortunately wasn't as well-done as I'd like. Still, for the price, it's definitely worth finding a Kramarczuk booth instead of going with the lame house dogs.
- Nachos
Totally decent. Far better than Metrodome nachos.
- Cuban sandwich
Ahh. The surprise winner (or leader, at least) in the Target Field food-off. There are only a couple tiny little carts labeled "Tony O's," named for Tony Oliva, an old Cuban Twins superstar who is known for his love of cuban sandwiches (and for Victor's 1959 Cafe). I didn't buy one myself, simply because they were clearly produced by the generic Sportservice food people, and not by someone who, you know, makes Cuban sandwiches. But Katie got one, and was nice enough to let me try it. Well color me shocked at how good this sandwich was. Like, wow. I've had plenty of Cubans at various restaurants around town, and this was actually one of the best. Crazy, right? Obviously it has nothing on Victors, but considering it's being sold at a random cart at Target Field, I could barely believe it tasted that good. Its only competition could be the Vincent burger, which I still haven't tried. Maybe next time?
All in all, I really think that Target Field probably has the best food of any of the 15-16 ballparks I've been to. Some have better hot dogs (Milwaukee, Boston, Los--well, a lot have better hot dogs), and some might have the random great item (Baltimore's barbeque, or San Francisco's garlic fries. And does KC have an Arthur Bryant's now?), but I haven't seen anywhere that comes close to the sheer quantity of quality choices as Target Field. Now if they could only do something about their damn scoreboards...
Hot Plate Bacon glazed doughnut South Minneapolis I don't have much more to say about Hot Plate's breakfasts after my third trip there (still good-but-underwhelming). But, this time around there was an added bonus: Glazed doughnuts with bacon sprinkles. It's exactly what it sounds like; a homemade fried doughnut topped off with fresh bacon bits and glazed, Krispy Kreme style. The first bite is a little curious, but by the end you're thinking, "Wow. I want another one." I asked the waitress if they'd have it every weekend, since it was listed as a special. She wasn't sure, because it was the first time they ever tried them. Apparently Hot Plate's owner saw a place on "Drive Ins, Diners and Dives" that served them, and thought he'd give it a shot. I gave her my official vote that they keep them on the menu. So we'll see.
Joys Pattaya Basil duck Richfield In order to prolong an otherwise brief and destinationless bike ride, I decided to eat tonight at the Calico Elephant, a Thai restaurant in what used to (pretty obviously) be an old American diner on Lyndale near 494. Not surprisingly, when I got there I found that the Calico Elephant was gone, but in its place was Joy's Pattaya. I don't know what a Pattaya is (or who Joy is for that matter), but since I just rode nearly 7 miles to get there, I said "what the hell" and got a table. And wouldn't you know, it was actually pretty darn good. I mean, maybe not as great as my last meal at Sen Yai Sen Lek, or even close to as good as the Thai Restaurant Of Death in Las Vegas, but you could tell they know what they're doing. Aside from standard Thai fare, they have some interesting items like a pumpkin curry (which, rumor has it, is actually served in a pumpkin), and spring rolls with avacado and mango (which weren't my cup of tea, but I bet Libby would love them). My duck stir fry, for example, included fresh green beans and bok choy, which I don't really see in Thai food too often, but gave it a certain unique flair. My only qualm was that there was maybe a little too much skin and fat on the duck, which was otherwise tender and tasty, so I'll let that slide. I'll definitely be going back to this place in the future (it's small and cozy, too). I just hope they last a little longer than the Calico Elephant.
Sen Yai Sen Lek Pad kee mao Northeast Minneapolis Awesome lunch at Sen Yai Sen Lek today. Last time (the first and only time) we ate there, I went away with an opinion that one could describe as "optimistically disappointed," in that it was probably my own fault that I didn't love it; I just didn't order the right dish. This time around, I went with the Pad kee mao, which is essentially stir fried noodles (very wide ones) with lots of basil, peppers, mushrooms, and chicken. A simple dish, I suppose, but it tasted fantastic. Pretty much exactly what I always hope for when I try new Thai places. Really, it's probably ruined Sen Yai for me, because I'm never going to order anything else again.
Crave Pulled pork sandwich Bloomington Like the funniest character in a Cormac McCarthy novel, or the most personable TSA agent at the airport, I've decided that the pulled pork sandwich at Crave is the best food item at the Mall of America. Congratulations.
Millside Bacon cheeseburger St. Michael On the drive from Minneapolis to Park Rapids, there is scant little opportunity for a good meal. You'd think between all the small towns you pass, and the 'funky' potential of St. Cloud, that you'd be able to find something other than Perkins or Culvers to eat on your way up north. But despite always being on the lookout for such a place, I've found practically nothing. That's why I've always been intrigued by one highway exit food sign a few miles before Albertville. Big, bold, unadorned black letters spell out "MILLSIDE," and the black silhouette of a burger and fries look so perfect (in a Wes Anderson sort of way) that there'd be no way it could be bad. So on Friday, Libby and I (having already given up on the Maple Grove vortex as a dining possibility after even TGI Fridays had a line out the door) decided to just go for it. Turns out the place is like 3 miles off the highway, and really is tucked away by a the side of a mill. But the unpretentious purity of their black and white sign was spoiled right away by a big, brand new log-cabin style monstrosity, and an overly fussy sign. Oh well. The inside was a no frills small town food hole (but not in a good way). At this point, I don't have much more to add. It was the Friday night fish fry. I ordered a bacon cheeseburger and chili. It took a half hour for the food to show up. Other than the insanely long time it took for our food (an experience we clearly shared with a handful of impatient-looking diners sitting near us), I really can't complain about much. The burgers were fine, and the chili even tasted homemade, in a Minnesota chili sort of way. But it didn't live up to the expectations set by its own unassuming exit sign. And now I'm afraid there are no more mysteries to be discovered between here and the North Country.
The Cardinal Patty melt South Minneapolis I just ate a patty melt so perfect that it might have been grilled by God himself. Though since it was just a patty melt we're talking about, it was probably just cooked by one of the Cardinal's meth addict cooks.
Gandhi Mahal Buffet South Minneapolis I finally popped into Gandhi Mahal (near Lake and Hiawatha, sort of by the Town Talk) for their lunch buffet on Sunday. It was fairly cheap, $9.99, and everything I had was good, if maybe not quite as good as Bombay Bistro, and not quite as much to choose from. Plus the chicken tikka masala had tons of little bones in it. But it's the closest Indian place to us, and it was good enough to go back in the future, at least.
Target Field Murrays Steak Sandwich Downtown Minneapolis Today was the Target Field 'preview' game, where you could pay $2 to get in to watch the U of M get their asses kicked by Louisiana Tech from any seat you want. It was a great deal, really, because you could go sit in the $77 seats, go up into the off-limits suites, all that stuff. So it was really fun to go see the place without being confined to your seat, and without having to deal with 40,000 other people. It was so exciting I nearly forgot to try the food! But in the 8th inning, I finally discovered where the sell the infamous Murrays steak sandwiches. They're $10, which seems steep, until you remember that an actual Murrays steak sandwich at the actual Murrays is about $12. And while this ballpark version isn't exactly what you'd get for that $12, it's still surprisingly good. Two thin-ish pieces of steak on a grilled, buttered bun, topped with caramelized onions and provolone. Other than a somewhat scant pile of onions, there really wasn't anything to complain about. I ate it all without dipping it in ketchup, if that says anything. So thumbs up to the steak sandwich!
And three more pieces of Target Field food discoveries that I hadn't heard about previously: 1.) They have Vincent burgers! Jucy lucies stuffed with cheese and short ribs, like at Vincent on Nicollet! I don't know if I even want to try it, since I've never had a "real" one at Vincent yet. It's sort of like saying you've seen Psycho, but only the Vince Vaughn version. 2.) They have Loon chili! From the Loon Cafe! The best chili in the city! Didn't try it, but if it's even close to as good as the "real" stuff, then count me in. And 3.) Kramarczuk has a little booth! They sell brats and some other sausage. I'd imagine it's 10 times better than the crap you'd get at the concession stands. Definitely seek it out.
Dairy Queen Oreo Blizzard South Minneapolis The new Dairy Queen by Minnehaha Park is architectural AIDS. Full-blown. There is no denying that. It's tacky, awkwardly placed, and 10 feet taller than it needs to be. It's a big stupid clown airdropped into a Judi Dench garden party. And also other metaphors. But--but--they actually put a reasonable amount of chunks into their Blizzards now, so maybe I can look the other way.
Bill's Garden General Tsos South Minneapolis We stopped getting Bill's at work a year or so ago after, well, I don't even know what. But after having it for dinner (and leftovers) this weekend, I really think that Bill's is sort of the best cheap/crappy Chinese place in the vicinity. Plus they sell big glass dragon statues and furry tiger ornaments! Can Xin Wong say that? 绝对不会!
Mon Ami Gabi French onion soup Las Vegas Oops, I forgot to post about Mon Ami Gabi. Not a whole lot to say, I guess. It's one of the Paris Hotel's "French" restaurants on the ground floor of their hotel, where Libby and I stopped in quick for a fast pre-dinner. We shared a fantastic cup of French onion soup, and a less-than-fantastic grilled cheese and short rib sandwich. Oh, and some top-notch fries. The place was not too dissimilar to Salut, really. Sort of an American steakhouse/bar with a few French touches. Better atmosphere, maybe. But if I had to choose the better French onion soup, I'd have to go with Salut. Basically, if you were on the strip near Paris and wanted a decent lunch, you could do worse.
Bouchon Bread pudding french toast Las Vegas We ended our Vegas trip with breakfast at Bouchon. Usually I'd imagine a place like Bouchon being a little too upscale for dirty old me, but I'd read their breakfasts were casual and reasonably priced. And Thomas Keller is sort of a deity to some people, the French Laundry and whatnot. Okay, deal. So we traveled up to the 10th floor of the Venetian, away from all the hubub and inanity of the strip, and found ourselves actually in what seemed to be a real, honest-to-god restaurant. Not the Vegas caricature of the "real" Bouchon, but what could honestly just be considered "One of three real Bouchons". It wasn't huge. It wasn't glitzy. The waitstaff was friendly and courteous. And the food, despite not really being my 'cup of tea' was all tremendously crafted. I ordered "Bouchon French toast," which was more like a bread pudding with custard and apples. A little too sour and mushy for my tastes, but you could tell it was correct. Libby liked it a lot more than me. She had some egg bake thing, which was also delicious. Top that off with some great potatoes, house-made blackberry jam, and unquestionably fresh orange juice, and you've got yourself an truly respectable French breakfast, all for the same price as the stupid buffet in your "French" hotel (who make you wait 10 minutes for a table even though you can see, as clear as day, at least 7 open tables within 30 feet of you, but they keep you waiting just so next time you'll pay 5 bucks extra for "VIP" seating, those jerks!).
1. The make-your-own burger concept. This place is the brainchild of Hubert Keller, a legitimate French chef who thought it would be fun to have a burger place. So why is it that there are only like 3 pre-composed burgers on the menu? Why would I be left to choose my own burger's ingredients when a guy named Hubert could've done it for me!? The guy won the burger challenge on Top Chef Masters, for cripes sake!
2. For the price, it really wasn't all that great. I built my burger with organic beef, prosciutto, provolone, and a red wine reduction. It cost me $20 bucks. The sauce tasted fantastic on its own (it would be great on a duck breast or lamb shank or something), but you could hardly taste it on the burger. It was just overwhelmed by everything else. Even the prosciutto sort of disappeared under all the beef. And the fries. They were just pre-made standard sports bar fries, but like $4. Can't you make some real french fries!? Just cut some potatoes and fry'em up! Maybe soak them in malt! I don't know, do something! I understand they're going for the whole "no BS sports bar" schtick, but the fries just seemed cheap. And the cole slaw literally tasted like nothing. Not even worthy of discussion. But speaking of the sports bar thing...
3. The atmosphere.. Awful. Just awful. Again, I'm sure they're just going for the "fun times sports bar" thing, but the interior of this place is just plain lame, especially for Vegas. Like a sub-TGI Fridays. You could pick up the place and move it into downtown Minneapolis and it would still be lame. So consider that's now in the glitz and glamour and over-the-topness of Vegas, and you wonder who ever approved of any of it. Oh, and the logo is horrible and all the waitresses were over-tanned, low pantsed, bitchy skanky Vegas chicks. They selled Burger Bar thongs! What!?
Don't get me wrong. The burger wasn't necessarily bad. The place was just so disappointing that it actually made me mad the more I dwelled on it. Ugh.
Lotus of Siam Nua Yum Katiem Las Vegas Never in my life have I had an experience like this. In my mind, it's an epic tale, but in reality, it's borderline embarrassing. So what happened is this: Lotus Of Siam is a Thai restaurant in a dirty strip mall a mile off the strip, on Sahara Ave., east of the Sahara Casino. After spending only a few minutes on Chowhound's Las Vegas boards, it became clear to me that Lotus was a must eat destination; practically every thread on the board recommended it without hesitation. There have even been national food magazines that have claimed this place to be the best Thai restaurant in North America. Whether this is true or not, I honestly can't say. Not only have I not eaten at every Thai restaurant in North America, I didn't even eat at Lotus of Siam. It ate me. So here's a tip for when you're ordering food at a "real" Thai restaurant: You know how here in Minneapolis they ask you how spicy you want your dish, from 1 to 5? Well I usually go with a 4. Spicy, sure, but very manageable. So when the waiter at Lotus asked me about spice on a scale of 1-10, I did some math and decided on 7. "That's like a 3.5, really." Logical, right? So they bring me my dish, which was pretty much char-grilled skirt steak with garlic and peppers and some lemon juice sauce on a bed of cabbage. After just one bite, I was already impressed. Perfectly cooked beef, fresh cabbage, a sauce tha--Oh my god. Oh my god. Ohmygodohmygod. I can't feel my tongue. Deep breath. Deep breath. It will cool down in a sec--no, no. It's getting worse. It's getting worse! Where's the water, where's the water!? Rice! Rice will help! Oh god the rice just burns more! Libby, Libby let me have a bite of your Pad Thai. Please! Oh god it's like there's an angry cat in my mouth!. And so forth. You get the picture. Easily the spiciest thing I've ever eaten. By the end of the meal, I could actually feel my body temperature rising. I was sort of light headed, and felt even a little nauseous. And yet I ate nearly 3/4ths of my dish, because it was so damn good! And Libby's pad Thai was probably the best I've ever had. And yet I could barely enjoy any of it, because I was just trying not to cry like a girl. In the end, I gave in and asked the waiter for something to help with the spice, and they brought me a tea with cream that worked miraculously, despite setting off an obscene chemical reaction in my stomach. It was truly an event. So in the end, I really wish I could've given it another shot, and next time I'm even anywhere near Las Vegas, I'm going out of my way to eat there again (maybe at like a 4/10 this time). But it might take a while before the night terrors end.
'wichcraft Pork sandwich Las Vegas Our first real food destination in Vegas was a lunch at 'wichcraft, Tom Collicchio's sandwich joint hidden somewhere back in the dark recesses of the MGM Grand. The first thing I noticed about the place (other than the line of 20-something photography convention attendees curling out the door), was that the place had a very chain-like feel to it. I didn't know at the time, but after doing some looking I see that there are 7-8 'wichcrafts in New York, one in San Francisco, and one in Vegas. So this is definitely a big operation. And while the food was certainly at least respectable, you could tell that the 'operation' aspect of it overwhelmed the 'Tom Collicchio' aspect of it. In fact, Collicchio's name is nowhere to be seen, be it on the menus, under the logo, or anywhere else a restaurant would usually want to splash the credentials of their celebrity chef owners. Very curious. Anyway, the food: Good, but not terribly memorable. My pork was a little dry and crispy (in a bad way), the cabbage did nothing for it, and the mustard was all sort of on one side of the thing. Libby had a turkey sandwich with balsamic onions and avocado, which I actually thought was much better than mine. And we shared a chicken corn chowder soup, which was surprisingly bland. I mean, from what I know about Collicchio, he's all about fresh, natural, local foods, and letting the ingredients sort of do the heavy work. No fancy sauces, crazy spices, or anything like that. And you could sort of see that in 'wichcraft; the pork, despite being dry, tasted like pork. You could really taste the corn and chicken in the soup. The problem, I think, is that you have 5000 people (Exaggeration? No idea.) coming through those Vegas doors every day, in only a few short lunchtime hours, and their expectations probably aren't terribly high. How are you supposed to keep quality control in check in the situation they're in? All while keeping prices (to their credit) very reasonable. I don't know how much business the New York locations do, but there's no way they pump as many people through as this one. I wonder also if that's why his name is nowhere to be seen.
The Cheesecake Factory Asian chicken thing Las Vegas I know, I know, I know, I know, I know. "You went to Vegas and you ate at the Cheesecake Factory?" Yes. Look, we were there with my family. And it wasn't even their choice, it was my dad's cousin's choice. He lives in Vegas and offered to take us out for dinner, and that is what chose. The Cheesecake Factory in Caesar's Palace. Maybe he doesn't know it's a chain. Maybe that's the only one in Vegas. I don't know. But... but... ready for this? It was actually really good. Maybe not the best, but at least the most satisfying meal I had in Vegas. I know, I know, I know, I know.
Home Beef in barolo South Minneapolis Libby and I made this Crock Pot beef roast thing the other night, from a recipe in a slow cooker cookbook. Beef in barolo, it was called. Not too complicated, just some chuck cooked in crushed tomatoes, red wine, some garlic, sugar, onions, and rosemary. Oh, and a bay leaf. And Libby made some awesome horseradish/garlic mashed potatoes with it. The first night we had it, it was fine. The rosemary was pretty much the only flavor going on in it, and the beef turned out a little tough, but it was nice. But tonight, three nights later, the leftovers were amazing. Everything really just needed to sit and stew a little longer, I guess. Anyhow, that's all.
Korean Garden Bul go gi St. Paul It's official. I totally like Korean food. Sweet beef? Pickled everything? Absolutely. (I'll note that I tried going to the more-respectable Mirror Of Korea tonight, but they're closed on Tuesdays! What!?)
Sen Yai Sen Lek Beef curryish thing Northeast Minneapolis I finally, finally, finally got to Sen Yai Sen Lek tonight. And I'm happy about it. I had the Khao Soi, which sounded exciting because had pickled mustard greens, and was "curried," instead of "curry" (which I interpret to mean it's more of a dry curry seasoning, not a soupy coconut milk thing). So I was a little bummed at first when it showed up and was basically a yellow coconut curry. However--however--it was extremely flavorful, spicy, and impressive enough that I'm not too bummed that it was essentially a yellow curry. Libby had some cold shrimp salad which I actually thought might've been better than my dish, even. Which is amazing considering, you know, it's a cold shrimp salad. So while I'm not going to say the King And I has a new competitor, I'm definitely excited to go back there again (pretty much everything on the menu looked great). Plus, we had a coupon!
McDonalds Chicken McNuggets Bloomington Olympics advertising convinced me to seek out a McDonalds to try their new sweet chili dipping sauce. So I took the train to the mall in order to do just that, only to discover that--get this--the Mall of America McDonalds has Pepsi instead of Coke! What the hell?
C&G's Smoking Barbeque Pulled pork sandwich South Minneapolis I'd never heard of C&G's, nor was I seeking out barbeque, but my bus today missed my stop, then dropped me off at the next one, right across the street from this place. It was sort of in a strip-mall type situation, connected to a gas station, a cheap Chinese place (Xin Wong, actually), and a glucose-free bakery. It seemed like it might be alright, so I gave it a shot. It's not all that different than a Ted Cook's or Rooster's, in that it's a small little place with an order counter, and maybe 4 tables. Their menu has mostly standard pulled pork, ribs, brisket, cole slaw, that kind of thing. But they also have Coney dogs, "loose beef" sandwiches (sloppy joes, I assume), chili, and some other stuff. I went with the pulled pork and fries, and walked away neither disappointed nor blown away. I think there might've been something weird going on back in the kitchen, like something wasn't working right, and they were rushing to get out people's orders, which might've affected the food a bit. The fries are fresh-cut, but a little soggy, and the pork was tender, but maybe a little fatty (which mushed up the bun a bit). The sauce was fine, but nothing to write home about. I'll definitely go back in the future, since it's a short bike ride away, and there are plenty of menu items to try. But in the end I'd say it's maybe a little better than Caps, about equal to Rooster's, but nowhere close to Ted Cook's. But what is?
Masa Duck enchiladas Downtown Minneapolis Holy mole! The space is a little loud and overly formal, the prices are a little high, and I think the maitre d' made fun of me at one point, but this was the best meal I've eaten in months. Braised duck and a little crema and cheese in a tortilla topped with mole and a few dehydrated apple slices. It was barely even Mexican, but it was muy pinche delicioso.
The Baker's Wife Rolls South Minneapolis Whenever I buy rolls at the Baker's Wife, I am overcome by a clear feeling of guilt. "This shouldn't be so cheap," I think. "They must've made a mistake when they rang me up." It feels like I'm stealing, just walking out the door with caramel rolls and bread pudding I didn't pay for. If they go out of business some day (and let's hope they don't), it's all my fault.
Chickwich Chicken sandwich Bloomington Look, I know you're really excited about Chickwich. It's not a Chick-Fil-A, but it looks like the next best thing, right? Fried chicken? Waffle fries? Cartoon chicken in the logo? Considering the only Chik-Fil-A in Minnesota is a tiny little kiosk in Coffman Union on campus, the fact that it has a second-rate doppelganger in the Mall of America food court sounds like a cause for celebration! Well, guess what? It sucks.
Crave Happy hour stuff Bloomington There was no way this was supposed to be good. First of all, it's called Crave. If you follow Steve's "Happy Chef" rule of restaurant naming, you'll know that any restaurant that needs to put a qualitative statement in its name is likely compensating for its own low quality. Secondly, it's in the Mall of America, with second and third locations (which all opened magically around the same time) in the Galleria, and that new stupid shopping complex in St. Louis Park. No good can come of this, right? But holy shit, were we surprised (shocked, stunned, stupefied, even) when it turned out their food is actually really, really good. Everything from their Korean chicken nuggets to their mini sausage pizza and their sushi was all high quality, well-conceived, and extremely tasty. But their pulled pork sandwich--my god. In terms of "nice restaurant pulled pork" (i.e., not Ted Cooks), this sandwich was head and shoulders (pork shoulders!?) better than similar pulled pork at Pop!, Citizen, Town Talk, or anywhere else I've tried the pulled pork. The secret is that they aren't afraid to make it sloppy and tangy. No subtlety here. And the pickles were chopped up and mixed in instead of just perched on top. Magnifique. Their happy hour deals were all pretty reasonable (mostly $4 and $5 appetizers), but they absolutely did not skimp on portions. Considering we went to this place with pretty much zero expectations, it was actually a joy to sit there eating this stuff. I'm still in shock. It was like going to going to a Sandra Bullock movie and walking away talking about Oscars (well, Golden Globes at least). It isn't going to compete with The Modern or 112 or anywhere like that, but until they give us any reason to think otherwise (we haven't tried any entrees yet, which seem a little on the pricey side), I see no reason to eat anywhere else at the Mall of America. At least during happy hour.
Town Talk Diner Meatloaf South Minneapolis You'd expect something like meatloaf would be a no brainer at a place like Town Talk. Well you'd be wrong. They could definitely do better.
Pizza Joes Pizza South Minneapolis Pizza Joes (not related to Hiawatha Joe, I think, I hope) is a new-ish pizza delivery joint down the street, which has always seemed a little too "questionable" to actually order from. Plus, when you're in Fat Lorenzo's delivery zone, why bother with anything else? But for those times when you don't feel like paying for pizza by the pound or having to put on your fly fishing waders to eat it, you need an alternative. That's why we gave it a shot tonight, and it wasn't too bad. There's still something creepy about the place; it seems to be some sort of chain, but not actually a chain, but maybe? And the pizza had a certain frozen pizza vibe to it. But, like, really perfectly cooked frozen pizza. Now I'm just making it sound like it's horrible, but it's not. I think. I hope.
Busters Brunch South Minneapolis Asian pork soup: amazing. Beer braised beef sandwich: dry (again). Breakfast burrito: tasty, but greasy. Steak eggs benedict: undercooked, but still delicious. Omelette: Apparently good, because Jake actually showed signs of happiness and appreciation. All in all, quite impressed by Busters' brunch menu. But there was a curious lack of pancakey, french toasty, sweet flour-based breakfast items. And they still need to work on their grease levels.
The Decemberists Castaways and Cutouts Splendidezine (or just "Splendid," to remove the wonderfully anachronistic descriptor "e-zine" from the title) was once a competitor to the now-mighty Pitchfork, but called it quits back in 2005. It's funny to go back and look at the site, which is still online, nowadays. It's like a time capsule, stuck a half decade in the past, with outdated graphic design, and randomly loading reviews on the front page from bands you and I have never heard of, and will never hear of again. But in the upper right of the page is a link, still alive, to the last feature interview they every did, with Grizzly Bear, years before they became the indie powerhouse they currently are. And in a way, that's perfect, because it really sums up everything that was great about Splendid. They ignored trends, they reviewed everything they received, and they never gave anything a quantifiable grade. They simply described what the music sounded like, who it might appeal to, and what positive attributes it had. Nothing was panned, nothing was ripped, nothing was lionized. And best of all, they offered audio samples of every record. That doesn't sound like a big deal now, but back in 2002 it was practically unheard of. Even Pitchfork only recently started linking to samples. Splendid had one for every album, right there on the page (in RealAudio format. Talk about dated.) But all these things combined to make Splendid the best place to actually find good new music. Hell, they pointed me towards the Decemberists months before they were even on the radar at most other music sites. And now they're dead.
Benji Hughes A Love Extreme Nothing much to say here. I just found a cheap copy of the Benji Hughes album on vinyl, and wanted to pass along a link to "The Mummy," which is still the best thing ever. The other thing is that Benji apparently did a Thursday night residency at the Largo (Jon Brion's usual home) in July. This blows my mind and makes me ridiculously happy. It also drives me crazy that I don't live in LA to be able to have seen it. (And if Jon Brion performed with him on stage, I don't want to know about it, because that's the sort of thing that will haunt me for the rest of my natural life).
Leonard Cohen Songs of Love and Hate I mean, no, I don't want to be the guy who rips on Leonard Cohen or anything here in 2010. It's been long enough and he's a certifiable genius and is an American treasure and Jeff Buckley and all that. Okay. But if it is 1968 right now and I'm listening to this guy, all I can think is "Dylan. Dylan." What I wonder is if it's even remotely acceptable to bring that up nowadays. May I?
Sufjan Stevens All Delighted People Sufjan Stevens released this "EP" completely out of nowhere this weekend, which I think is great, and is something artists should do more often. And while I'm only halfway through the first track (the 11-minute title track), the only thing that keeps coming to my mind is how similar it is, in a few different ways, to the music and arrangements on the new Joanna Newsom album (other than the fact that this is an EP and that was a triple LP). Which is awesome.
Leonard Cohen Songs of Love and Hate Leonard Cohen's Songs Of Love and Hate. Okervil River's The Stage Names. The Sugarcubes' Life's Too Good. Palace Music's Days In The Wake. The Anniversary's Your Majesty. New Order. The Cocteau Twins. R.E.M.. The Magnolia soundtrack. All these and more where miraculously for sale for $1.99 each at the Value Village Thrift Store in Richfield this evening. I only let myself buy three.
Cody Chesnutt The Headphone Masterpiece Cody Chesnutt, if I was to write a list of artists who have most frustrated me over the years, would possibly take the #1 spot. Once or twice a year, since 2002, I've come back to The Headphone Masterpiece and marveled at about 15 of the 30-some tracks on what was his first, only, and borderline-insane album. We're talking master-level songwriting, and a raw, lo-fi intimacy that is completely unheard of in the R&B world (even though what he's doing is above and beyond R&B, hinting at 60s pop, rock, hip hop, and Elliott Smithian honesty). Unbelievable stuff, and frustrating in that The Headphone Masterpiece was not a masterpiece at all. Jeff Mangum gets a lifetime pass for releasing Aeroplane, because it is a flawless, un-impeachable success. He can disappear and go the rest of his life releasing no more music, and I feel like he's given us enough. But the fact that Cody Chesnutt threw us this bone back in 2002 and then gave us nothing really gets me riled up. Because it's hinting at miraculous, but is overflowing with ridiculous.30 tracks, and half of them are unlistenable. But that other half... wow. Yet it's been 8 years and we haven't heard a peep more. It looks like he will finally be releasing something new soon, but I'm wary. How many artists have captured something and held it for this long? What will it even be? I'm worried, but oh man I can't wait.
The Books The Way Out The Books. While I'm not necessarily a 'fan' of them, I have been fascinated by their music since I heard some pieces of Thought For Food back around 2003 or so. Their sound is refreshingly unique in that it is, well, unique. Too organic to be "electronic," too ambient to be "pop," yet too musical to be "collage." Too constructed to be "folk," too thoughtful to be "dada," too fun to be "sound poetry." And I get the feeling if you even called it "art" they'd laugh you out of the room. Whatever they do, it's no surprise that they perform at places like the Walker rather than First Avenue. But I'm sure they've played there too. Anyway, I just read this description of the Books in a Cokemachineglow review the other day, that probably sums up what they do more than anything I could write (emphasis mine):
...gathering the detritus, ephemera, afterbirth, and diarrhea of the known aural-verse and repurposing it all, with uncalled-for care, into something digestible.
"Uncalled-for care" really does it for me. I really get a sense that if they weren't making this music, no one else would. Or could. And while I admittedly don't often listen to their music, I'm glad these guys are out there doing what they're doing.
Autolux Transit Transit Hmm. Sad to say, but nothing on this album is grabbing me right away. Maybe it's a "grower" or something, but a lot of these tracks sound more like B-side experiments than fully fleshed-out thoughts. Heck, somewhere in the last third of the record there's a song that's legitimately bad, a first for these guys. But most importantly: where did the drums go?
Autolux Transit Transit The new Autolux album came out today! I mean, Tuesday! And I had no idea!? What's wrong with me? I should have been marking days off my calendar in anticipation for today. 6 years it's been since their last one. Technically, since practically that entire album was on their demo four years earlier, I've been waiting 10 years for this thing. And I didn't even see it until I happened to check out the new release shelf at Best Buy? Sad. Plus, instead of actually listening to it, I'm writing about it on a blog. Pathetic.
Neutral Milk Hotel In The Aeroplane Over The Sea Somehow it keeps getting better and better. At this point I'm convinced that 40 years from now we'll talk about Aeroplane in the same way we talk about The Rite Of Spring or Kind of Blue or "Guernica" or Ulysses.*
* To 68-year-old Steve, if you can still read this: Hopefully you were right. If you weren't, 28-year-old Steve apologizes for being such a windbag. Also, I hope you've read Ulysses by now, because someone is bound to have brought it up in conversation, and I'd hate for you/me to seem like you don't know what you're talking about.
Future Islands In Evening Air In Evening Air isn't growing on me per se, since I liked it from the beginning. But it has, stealthily as Tony Stark's blood toxicity levels, been thoroughly infiltrating my music selection, to the point that if I'm not listening to a podcast (sorry, music), there's about a 40/60 chance that I'm listening to Future Islands. Quite a feat considering that I can barely communicate what it is I even like about them.
Big Boi Sir Lucius Leftfoot First you're like, "Ohmigod, this is the best thing I've ever heard." Then you're like, "Maybe Big Boi is the real genius behind Outkast after all. Like Matt Sharp and Weezer." But then you're like, "Dammit, why didn't the record company let Andre 3000 onto this thing?" And then you're like, "Aauuuuugh! If Andre was on it this would be classic!" So then you're like, "Shit. Why doesn't Outkast just release another album? Big Boi is wasting himself on this solo stuff!" Which leads you to be like, "Outkast!!!! Where are you!!!?????" So by the time the record is done, you're like, "That was okay I guess. The opera samples in that one song were pretty cool. And I like 'Shine Blockas.' I wonder what Andre 3000 is up to?"
Junip Rope And Summit EP So this is Jose Gonzalez's band. Did you know he had a band? I don't think anybody did, and by that I'm mildly shocked. Before we all saw that Sony ad with all the bouncing super balls in San Francisco and became enchanted by the force of nature in the voice of Jose Gonzalez, why hadn't we already been equally enchanted by the EP Junip had already released? I mean, this music is essentially Jose Gonzalez performing his songs backed by a crack-shot post rock band, perfectly attuned to maximizing the mantra-like nature of his music. Had we been introduced to this guy's music via Junip as opposed to that ad, we'd be saying, "Holy shit, Junip is unbelievable!" But as it stands, Jose gets to go do his thing around the world, and the other dudes in the band get to stay home in Stockholm or wherever and mope. (Though I'd bet you 100 kroner at least one of them plays in a jazz combo in his spare time).
The Beach Boys Kokomo So my post over there in the "Food" section regarding the Mall of America's vaguely tropical nightmare restaurant Kokomo's lead me, obviously, to link to a video of the Beach Boys' nightmare anthem, "Kokomo." Funny, right? But then I watched the video, tried to ignore the shots of a sexy young Tom Cruise slinging drinks in Coctail, and just listened to the song. And, you know, if you ignore the corny reverbed percussion, the corny sax solo, the corny steel drums, the corny hats, the corny flowered shirts, the corny lyrics, and Mike Love, you're left with a pretty damn sensational song. The way the verse melody continually descends... the chord change at the 5th bar... the "baby why don't we go" melody appearing on top of the low vocals at the end of the chorus... it's all classic Beach Boys. And the "That's where we want to go..." line? Just imagine that being sung by the 1964 Beach Boys instead of the 1988 ones. It's fantastic, in theory. In theory.
This leads me to another point, something I read the other day that I'm totally down with. It was a Rolling Stone Q&A interview with Sting (yes, Sting), which was mostly stingingly annoying, but he threw out one gem that just makes me say, "Yes!" To paraphrase, he said, "A great pop song has to surprise you every 8 bars." He really summed up something I've been trying to verbalize for a long time now. I'd even go further, and say it needs to surprise you every 4 bars. After 4 bars, you're naturally ready for something to happen. Either those 4 bars repeat themselves, or something changes. It could be the chord progression, the melody, the addition of a new aural component, something. In "Kokomo", for instance, after 4 bars, you're expecting it to go back to bar 1 and repeat the melody. But instead, the chord shifts down to a minor (or minor 7th?), and it feels as if you're on a roller coaster that just dipped when you thought it would zig. It surprised you. The Beach Boys were masters of this, as were the Beatles (as was Harry Nilsson and as is Jon Brion). But I'm just surprised that reading Sting say it is the first time I've truly seen the concept articulated. It seems so obvious.
Villagers Becoming A Jackal It's as if Grizzly Bear, Bishop Allen, and Conor Oberst's older, less-obnoxious brother all got drugged, hog-tied, and thrown headfirst into Harry Belafonte's grave, along with some Sam Cooke records and a radioactive spider. Then after the police are alerted to the scene, all they're able to find is this Villagers album. And they're like, "Yeah, this is alright."
Janelle Monae The ArchAndroid I've spent a lot of time thinking about this album. I've listened to it front to back, read the rave reviews, meditated and marinated. And as a result of all that thought, I've composed a multi-page essay, with footnotes and appendices, pie charts and photo plates, in my mind. It is very thorough. I've proofread it and everything. But I won't write it here, because not only will it bore you to death, but it will shock you with its subtle hints of possible racism and sexism. What it all boils down to (the "thesis", as you learned in 7th grade composition class), is this: The ArchAndroid, while nowhere close to the modern masterpiece that everyone wants it to be, is the noble attempt of Janelle Monae to make the album that she's always wanted Andre 3000 to make. It is, 5 years later than expected, the natural evolution of "Hey Ya" from song to genre. It is an interesting collection of quirky production and arrangements, with a couple catchy tunes and some respectable work from the studio musicians, but if everyone would just take a deep breath and take a step back and ignore the fact that she's a cute girl in a tux dancing like MJ, we'd see that this album is little more than a big-budget game of musical dress-up. And Janelle Monae is no Andre 3000.
Future Islands In Evening Air Everything about Future Islands points directly at me hating them. Or at least ignoring them. I don't like Joy Division, I don't like New Order, I don't like Tom Waits, and I don't like megahyped blog buzz bands from Baltimore. (It's not that I don't like them, but you could say that I'm very, very wary of them. How's that?) So why is it that this band comes out of nowhere (and Baltimore), sounding like Tom Waits singing in a Joy Division/New Order tribute band, writing songs that aren't particularly smart or memorable, and I love it? Eating it up, in fact. I think the key is that despite all the referential sounds they're making, none of it seems silly. It all feels honest and heartfelt, and somehow overcomes its own referentiality. And he sings like Bowie sometimes, too. I like Bowie.
Failure Fantastic Planet Failure is releasing Fantastic Planet on vinyl, and I am in the mood to reflect. Fantastic Planet was, of course, possibly the single definitive album of my high school years, one that completely changed the way I listened to and judged music to this day. And yet on the rare occasion that I listen to it these days, I don't find myself enthralled by it in the same ways I did as a 16 year old. Nothing wrong with that, I suppose. Really, when I listen to music I loved from that 1996-2000 era, there are a handful of albums that I'm much more impressed and inspired by here in 2010. Mind Science of the Mind. Downward Is Heavenward. The Ballad Of Hope Nicholls. Okay, maybe just those three. On Planet, some of the lyrics come off as a little trite and silly, and some of the compositions themselves are a little too of-their-era ("Pitiful", "Leo", "Saturday Saviour", et. al.). But listening to "Heliotropic", "The Nurse Who Loved Me", and "Another Space Song," with the gift of hindsight,prove that Fantastic Planet is, above all, a masterpiece of production, engineering, and arrangement. Even "Stuck On You," the most obvious and radio-friendly tune on the record, is unbelievably layered and sculpted, every sound and every chord placed precisely where it needs to be for maximum impact. Beautiful, really. Given where the members went post-Failure (Autoux, On, borderline-lame production jobs from Ken), I both wonder and fear what they would've recorded had they released one more record.
Midlake Live in Minneapolis, 5-25-10 I'm going to be totally honest: I only went to this show to see them play "Roscoe." Don't get me wrong; I love Midlake, I think they're a fantastic band, and I certainly like more of their songs than just "Roscoe." But the fact is that I'm 28 years old, I haven't been to a show in a year and a half (Hum in Chicago on New Years 2009), and frankly I just don't have the patience for these things anymore. But Midlake is one of those bands that I always felt would be a must see act. Plus, Jason Lytle of Grandaddy was opening for them. Plus, I knew I could by Van Occupanther on vinyl at their merch table, since I've been looking for it for ages at records stores from here to Seattle to Brooklyn. So I went. And they were good--truly a throwback to a time when dudes with guitars actually paid attention to craft and detail. Seven dudes (and six beards) on stage, completely focused, every chord and note played solely for the benefit of the composition. A drummer and bassist truly acting as a rhythm section. It was a refreshing sight. And then they played "Roscoe." And then I left.
The Black Keys Brothers I don't have too much to say about Brothers yet except for this: Listen to the first track and try to not sing T-Rex's "Mambo Sun" along with it. Can't do it, can you? Me neither. Also, it has kickass heat-sensitive ink printed on the disc. Take that, downloading!
Jamie Lidell Compass All this time I thought I liked Jamie Lidell. I got into him back when Multiply came out in 2005. Experimental electro guy realizes he has a kickass set of soul pipes, so he starts making electro-soul music. Awesome. Then Jim comes out a couple years later, and I'm super excited, because I loved Multiply, right? But I'm disappointed. Too bland. And now Compass had me all excited, because it sounded far more experimental, freaky, and unique than even Multiply. Cool. But again, I can't help but to be let down. This time, it's because the songs just aren't there. Bummer. This leads me to go down through my iTunes collection and take another listen to Multiply, only to find that--what? What's this song? I don't remember this. And this one? Hmm, this one's kind of annoying. And I just want to skip through that one. The title track is awesome, and it has a play count of 15. But every other song is only between 3-5. One only has 2! Could it be!? Did I never actually really like Multiply? It seems I just liked the title track of it so much that I convinced myself that I also liked the rest of the album. But the truth is in the numbers, I guess. And the truth is that Jamie needs to write better songs.
New Pornographers Together Not as actively upsetting as Challengers, but still not up to the quality of their first 3 albums. I'd categorize this as SBTTMEE (Still Better Than Most Everything Else). The extra T is for 'Typo.'
The National High Violet I bought this National album today. It feels like everyone loves this band, and I feel like a total outsider. They seem like a perfectly respectable if forgettable rock group, sort of like The Doves, or Elbow. But the amount of praise they get from every corner of the music world is pretty astonishing. So seeing this new one for 7.99 at Best Buy, I figured I may as well just dive right in. Wish me luck.
Mando Diao Never Seen The Light Of Day Imagine my shock when I discovered that Mando Diao released a new album in 2009 that I never once heard about until this year. Are you imagining it? Now, like, quadruple that shock, and you can guess how I felt when I discovered last week that they also released a new album in 2008 that I also heard nothing about. That's two albums they've put out--granted, in Europe only, no American release--that have gotten zero attention on any of the music sites I visit on a daily basis. Not a peep! It's sort of sad to me, because I love these guys, and despite being part of a sort of trendy early 2000s garage rock genre along with the Strokes/Hives/Libertines, I think they are a uniquely talented and worthwhile band that deserves at least a little more attention than they currently get. Which apparently is none.
Harry Nilsson Harry Steve's Harry Nilsson Fandom Update: I've slowly been buying Nilsson's mid/late career "lesser" albums over the last few months, and all are mixed bags. It seems there's usually 2-3 good songs and a bunch of filler, and it all reeks of Harry just not trying too hard. But I'm surprised with Harry, which sounds a whole lot closer to Aerial Ballet than anything else, and much of it very good. But now that I'm looking at it, it seems Harry is from 1969, which isn't mid/late Nilsson at all. My mistake. It's not as good, or at least as immediate, as Aerial Ballet, and his vocals seem slightly passive. It has a more mellow vibe in general, I guess. But one great standout is a cover of the Beatle's "Mother Nature's Son," which is just as strong as the original. Less impressive is his cover of Randy Newman's "Simon Smith And The Amazing Dancing Bear," which seems a little too fluffy and tossed-off in comparison to anything on Nilsson Sings Newman. All in all, it seems that for as strong as this album would be in a vacuum, just about every track on it seems like a slightly inferior version of something he'd either already recorded, or would record in the future.
Beach House Teen Dream I hate to say it, but this is growing on me. Just a little. I mean, it's still pretty hard to listen to the entire album without wanting to punch a wall, but two or three songs worth is actually a pretty nice listen.
David Byrne Here Lies Love David Byrne deserves at least this much credit: He sees his art through to the end. A dadaist collection of PowerPoint presentations and corporate signage? Sure. An abandoned warehouse turned into a playable instrument? Check. A double disc dance opera about the life of Imelda Marcos? Why not? I'm convinced that this truly is a project, not necessarily an album. Judged as an album, on the same level we would judge Look Into The Eyeball or Remain In Light or even Everything That Happens Will Happen Today, Here Lies Love fails, because it simply isn't terribly enjoyable to listen to. I mean, we're talking an hour and a half of music here. The music is purposefully gaudy in its production, but simple in its composition. The sound is a combination of 70s/80s club and Broadway musical fantasy, and the lyrics are very much in line with the project's goal. This isn't some half-assed 'rock opera' that claims to be about something but isn't (coughgreendaycough). These songs are bluntly and unapologetically about Imelda Marcos and her childhood friend. The first track on the first disc and the second to last track on the second disc are both great songs, but sadly everything else is, musically, forgettable. But I really don't think David Byrne set out to make a great album here. He set out to create a piece of art, which just happens to take the form of two music CDs. And on that level, I think he nailed it.
The Avalanches Since I Left You Well, it's decided: I think I'm going to buy the Avalanches album. 10 years of considering it is enough. I should probably just go for it before they release their second album in 2019.
Grandaddy Just Like The Fambly Cat I think I remember liking this when it came out, but that might be a little cognitive dissonance on my part. All I know is that in the years since its release, I've mostly sated my Grandaddy urges with The Sophtware Slump and Sumday, which I still think is their best. But even though I've been passing off Fambly Cat as insignificant, listening to it right now, very loudly, on a good speaker system, might be changing my mind. More so than Sophtware Slump (their "art" album) and Sumday (their "pop" album), Fambly Cat is clearly Grandaddy's "rock" album, even if every song isn't a barnburner. I'd still place it at number three behind those other two, but I think I've been wrong to ignore it all these years. If anything, it gave us "Geez Louise" (seriously, play that song at max volume. Holy shit!), and "Where I'm Anymore," two legitimate Grandaddy masterpieces. And now that I'm thinking about it, the EP they put out before this album had a couple legitimately good songs on it too. In hindsight, they could've thrown a couple of those ("Fuck The Valley Fudge," specifically) onto Fambly Cat, and it could've been a much stronger album as a whole.
Bonnie 'Prince' Billy The Wonder Show Of The World Bonnie 'Prince' Billy snuck another new one out this week. I haven't given it it's due yet, but I already like it better than Beware and The Letting Go. It's definitely a 'night' album, that's for sure. Or maybe a 'driving through the desert' album. Very morose, calm, not a lot of excess. Basically just what you'd hope for in a B'P'B joint.
Brad Mehldau Highway Rider Hah ahaha ah ha ah ahah ahahaha! So much for not wanting the album to end. Turns out it's actually a double album and I was listening to disc two that entire time. Unbelievable. So now that I know how it ends, maybe I should go back and listen to the entire first half of it. My whole listening experience is ruined! Jon Brion would be pissed!
Brad Mehldau Highway Rider This is the second album I've bought this year solely because Jon Brion has somehow been involved (the first one being an entirely disappointing and insignificant recording from Christina Courtin, who I'm sure is a lovely and well-meaning gal, but otherwise leaves me with absolutely nothing else to say). Brion is only (big fingerquotes on "only") credited as the producer, with no instrumental or writing credits at all, which is surprising considering usually he'll play an instrument (or five) on anything he produces. So obviously this isn't about Brion, this is about Mehldau. And let me say this about Mehldau: This kind of music usually bores the crap out of me on record. In person, sure, I can enjoy pleasant piano jazz, but recordings of it usually do nothing for me. The music on this record, however, is downright beautiful. I have absolutely zero insight about the modern jazz scene, and only the most basic historical knowledge, so I can't make any qualified statements about what Mehldau is doing or who he's channeling, or what makes this better or even different than the hundreds of other jazz pianists out there. But what I can tell is that there is a sort of spirit, a soul to this record that I just want to wrap myself in. It sounds like an April morning smells. Like coasting downhill feels. I'm still on my first listen, and scared that it might end.
The Morning Benders Big Echo All I keep reading about this damn Morning Benders album is how it was produced by a guy from Grizzly Bear, and how it's amazing and sounds like Grizzly Bear and everyone loves it and everyone loves Grizzly Bear. I don't want to take the time to elaborate my thoughts on Grizzly Bear, but the fact is that this album succeeds despite the Grizzly Bear production, not because of it. The songs are good, the performances are good, but it is insanely and unnecessarily over-produced, and would be a much, much better piece of work if it had more character of its own. Layers everywhere, reverb, tinkling pianos, doubled guitars, stuff, stuff, more stuff. At some point all this crap, when it hasn't been carefully and purposefully arranged (thank you very much, Sufjan), just gets in the way of the songs. And reverebed vocals--stop it! Just stop it! My Morning Jacket gets to do that shit. Maybe Andrew Bird and Neko Case. But as soon as Band Of Horses yawned their way into the picture, someone should've drawn a line. Anyway. Like I said, despite all my negativity, this is still an enjoyable listen. Better than Veckatamist at least.
Kevin Barker You and Me Bought this sort of as a fluke. I heard a couple good things about it, then saw it get a pretty positive write-up in Vice Magazine (which is saying something for an album that is neither freaky nor angry nor anything else the least bit Vicey, which I suppose in effect makes it very Vicey.), and just decided to go for it. It is fun and nice for about 4 songs, but then hits a wall. Oh, and Joanna Newsom plays piano on it, which sounds exciting until you remember she's not a very good piano player. So, yeah. It pretty much makes me wish the Magic Numbers would hurry up and release their new one.
Self Subliminal Plastic Motives Tonight I was flipping through the used new arrivals at Cheapo (often times a complete goldmine in this 'post-CD' era of ours), and noticed that clearly someone had gotten rid of practically their entire CD collection. That's pretty common, really, but in this case it was particularly funny because this person's collection may as well have been my own. It's happened before, but I for a quick second I actually do get a little scared, like, "Oh my god, I think someone sold my CDs!" But then a cooler head prevailed, and I was able to buy a copy of Self's Subliminal Plastic Motives, a huge favorite of mine from high school. I must've lost the CD a long time ago, because it never made it onto my iPod, and I didn't find it when I was doing a big CD ripping marathon thanks to my new 120gb iPod. (This post is going absolutely nowhere, sorry. Just rambling.) To close, I must say I still really like Self. It's sort of funny how they never really found a bigger audience. They were really not right for their time; too quirky (or about 2 years too late) to be big in the mainstream, and too 'commercial' to hit it big in what became the 'indie' behemoth we know today. Matt Mahaffey has done relatively well for himself since '99, I suppose, but man... they really got knocked around by the industry for an entire decade there. Hopefully they put out something new in the near future.
Harry Nilsson Sandman Roadrunner came through again for me, this time with a pristine vinyl copy of Sandman, one of the latter-day Nilsson albums where he's pretty much completely wasted and not taking his music the least bit seriously, and yet still making some stupidly funny, smart, catchy numbers. Just listen to these lyrics to his song entitled "How To Write A Song": "If you write it on guitar, place your guitar upon your knee. If you write it on piano, don’t do that." The guy is making a total mockery of the very idea of songwriting, yet succeeding at it at a higher level than practically anyone else in 1976.
The Decemberists Always The Bridesmaid EP "Valerie Plame" is still a great, great song. And listening to it today really made me long for the 'old' Decemberists, despite the fact that the song could probably be considered 'new.' (Are we looking at two Decemberists, like how we have two Metallicas? Pre-Crane Wife and post-Crane Wife? Seems fair to me.)
Opeth Ghost Reveries I totally underrated Ghost Reveries when it came out. I think it's become possibly my favorite Opeth album, other than Still Life, Blackwater Park, Deliverance, and My Arms Your Hearse, of course. Sorry, Watershed.
Pearl Jam No Code 1996. The year of the criminally underrated music release. Pearl Jam's No Code. Soundgarden's Down On The Upside. Alice In Chains' self titled. Stone Temple Pilots' Tiny Music. And Load. I could write an entire essay about the mistreatment of Load. Tragic. Anyway, in all these cases, these were bands that were already supposed to be past their prime, old fogey farts were part of a trend a few years earlier, and were now either just selling out or not being "true" to "themselves" because maybe they didn't "rock" as much as they "used to". Call me crazy, but with the exception of Metallica, all of those albums are the best thing those bands ever released. It was a perfect point on the venn diagram where they were still young enough to give a shit, but bored enough to experiment. They were rich enough to afford a ton of studio time, but not so rich that they blew it all on drugs (except Weiland, of course. And Staley). But beyond all that, in each case, their songcraft was at its peak. And also in each case, the end followed quickly. Pearl Jam has been treading water for 14 years. Alice In Chains got killed by Layne Staley. Soundgarden dissolved and Stone Temple Pilots tiptoed around Weiland until they gave up, and Metallica made the mistake of giving in to the critics and became a cartoon. But for one year in 1996, everyone brought their goddamn A-game. And I feel like I'm the only one that noticed.
Alice In Chains Jar of Flies It just occurred to me that I've never owned Jar Of Flies! "Wha-wha-whaat!?" As much as I liked Alice In Chains back in middle/high school (and today, even), my brother owned a copy of it, so I never bothered buying it. Next time I'm at Cheapo, I'm definitely going to pick up a used copy, which will cost me, what, $2.50? $2.75? It will also make me the last human ever to purchase a CD copy of Jar of Flies.
Joanna Newsom Have One On Me I feel silly trying to write about this album on a music blog. I don't want to sound like a pompous jackass or something, but the fact is this: Have One One Me doesn't deserve to be critiqued on the same level as other music albums. There are songs here, yes. There is singing, rhythm, melody. But this is something new, and I don't know what it is. Theater? Literature? There's a purity here that is nearly impossible to come by in "pop" music. In The Aeroplane Over The Sea certainly comes to mind. Pink Moon. "Hey Ya." That's not to say that a year from now I'll want to listen to it, or that I'll even be able to read this write-up without feeling completely embarrassed for myself. But all I know is that right now, only a week into Have One On Me, I feel emotionally and physically taunted by it, and I've barely scratched the surface.
Shearwater The Golden Archipelago Rook was and is a spectacular piece of work. And unfortunately for Shearwater, I think it was also the best they can do. Not only was it the best they could do, but it represented the purest epitome of their very particular sound. So they're not going to top Rook, and they're not going to go release a dance record or an electro-pop record, and we're left with a perfectly respectable Golden Archipelago, thinking, "Boy, I really want to go listen to Rook right now." Shame. (It comes with a cool book, though. Something about aborigines? I don't know.)
Xiu Xiu Dear God, I Hate Myself Pretty much what I feared. They're back to being a two-man band, and their sound has reverted back to the infuriatingly inconsequential Le Foret days. A couple catchy tunes, but nothing as memorable as a "I Luv The Valley OH!" or "I Do What I Want, When I Want." And the only thing shocking on the entire record is a straight-forward cover of "Cumberland Gap," a traditional folk/bluegrass song. Also probably the most interesting thing here, too. Shame.
Joanna Newsom Have One On Me This is like watching Magnolia, and an hour and a half through someone switches it with Andrei Rublev. I mean, they're both classics, but I'd rather watch Magnolia, you know?
Joanna Newsom Have One On Me I'm glad I was able to buy this two days early, because at this rate I will be able to have fully digested it by August 6th, 2017 instead of August 8th, 2017. I'll check in with you then.
Bad Religion Stranger Than Fiction 3 days ago my waking mind was hijacked in an outright guerilla ambush by Bad Religion's "Stranger Than Fiction" (the song). It's played through in my head somewhere around 70 times since Thursday, and I've physically listened to it about a half a dozen. It. Won't. Go. Away. Sure, I liked it when I was a teenager and everything, but suddenly I can't get enough. What's happening to me?
Sade Soldier Of Love I really like this thing that Sade does. Call me crazy, but her (their?) music is just so smooth, so nice, so right. Everything is in its place, everything fits, nothing extraneous, nothing fake. All is sleek, efficient, and thoughtful. Granted, after the first two tracks, the album sort of dissolves into a pleasant fog, but those first two tracks are exciting and remarkable enough to make the whole package worth the price. (The first track in particular, "Moon And The Sky", has this little sped-up sample of her singing "Not gonna let you go" that pops up, out of nowhere, maybe 4 times in the entire song. They easily could've gone overkill and had it play every 4 bars or something, but it just comes in and surprises you, then disappears just when you're expecting to hear it again. Awesome.)
Owen Pallett Heartland Sounds like: A very angry Danny Elfman remixing a box of long lost Christopher Cross demo tapes. I think I like it?
| 02-14-2010
Untitled Document
The Smiths The Queen is Dead Today being Valentine's Day and all, I want to take a moment and confess my love for Roadrunner Records. While the Electric Fetus, and to a lesser extent Treehouse and Cheapo, are all superior when it comes to CDs, I've found that Roadrunner constantly and consistently blows them away with their vinyl selection. In fact, I've found records there that I couldn't even find at record stores in Seattle, Brooklyn, and Greenwich Village. Take that, cool cities!. And today, it was topped off when they had a copy of The Smiths' The Queen Is Dead, which you wouldn't think would be so hard to find, but I've never seen it anywhere before (in fact, I've only seen a small handful of Smiths albums at all; Jive Time in Seattle had a couple EPs, and Treehouse had Meat Is Murder once). The Cheapo in St. Paul even has a big note on their Smiths placard that basically says, "You probably won't find any Smiths records here." But sweet, sweet Roadrunner had it there, in their New Arrivals section. I mean, it probably isn't a first-pressing, and it's a US version, not a British. But whatever. It's in great shape and was only twenty bucks. So not counting all the hard-to-find Nilsson record's I've found there, the Conlin Blunstone, the early copy of Meddle and the early pressing of Pet Sounds that was in stock there today, this alone was enough to cement my appreciation for what I used to think was a crummy little random record store on Nicollet.
The Unicorns Who Will Cut Our Hair When We're Gone? Two quick things:
1.) A while back, I wrote a quick little thing about how Ted Leo's Hearts Of Oak album sounds perfect when played out of cruddy laptop speakers. I'm now finding that this Unicorns album is another rare case of a recording that somehow sounds perfect when coming out of the tinny little din of a MacBook, like this is how it was supposed to be listened to.
2.) I'd been thinking something for a long time, and recently found some random dude's blog (a best of the decade list, actually), where he put the same idea into words. And that is this: The Unicorns' Who Will Cut Our Hair When We're Gone is the perfect musical summation of the entire decade of independent music. A little dance rock, a little garage rock, a little twee sing-song, a slight hip hop influence, lyrics that are simultaneously goofy and deathly serious (and meta), lo-fi, singers that aren't talented but can still hold a tune, minor electronics, a hand-drawn cover (with rainbows!), and a "The" in their name. Plus, they're from Quebec! But best of all, despite seemingly doing what 1,000 other bands did last decade, they did it all better than nearly everyone.
Midlake The Courage Of Others Hmm. I've been waiting for this album for a long time. It's probably the one record I've been anticipating most over the last year or two. So, as usually happens in these situations, color me disappointed. It starts off really nicely, with a great mellow tune called "Acts Of Man." But it never really builds up any steam. They've been touting it as a folk-inspired album, reaching back to old British Fairport Convention type stuff. But in reality it isn't too different (in tone, instrumentation) as Van Occupanther (an all time favorite of mine). The only problem is that for all its aesthetic similarities, the melodic creativity and basic energy just isn't there. But I'm sure I'll come back and listen to it a few more times this week, for sure. It might just be a slow-burner of an album. (I've even been giving Beach House its fair shake. The verdict: still boring..)
Beach House Teen Dream Do you like quarter notes? Do you like vague, dispassionate background vocal harmonies? Do you like Mazzy Star or Low, but always wish they'd add about 4bpm to their songs? Then buy this album! It will completely wear out its welcome by the opening notes (quarter notes) of the third track, but Pitchfork gave it a 9.0, so it's great!
Retribution Gospel Choir 2 I love this. When every eye-rollingly trendy band is releasing music that the Pitchforks and the Stereogums describe as either "drone-pop," "haze pop," "shit gaze," or any other asinine combination thereof, the guy partially responsible for all of it (thanks, Low) decides to take out his guitar, turn his amp up to 12, and blow every other bullshit "glo fi" band out of their beards. Shit. Maybe I'm just getting old, but in a world where every half assed band with a bad microphone and a reverb filter (and a good back story) gets to spend a month as the "next big thing," I'm glad that bands like this are out there doing it right.
Mount Eerie Wind's Poem While it's otherwise disposable, a mere shadow of the former greatness of The Microphones, this album can genuinely freak you out if listened to under the right circumstances. Like being alone in a dark house after reading pages and pages of stories about mysterious disappearances, unexplainable lights, and human combustion.
Vampire Weekend Contra Okay, I was wrong. The album isn't completely useless. The last minute and a half of the last song is actually pretty nice. But then it's over.
Vampire Weekend Contra It's like the first Vampire Weekend album, except instead of using their studio time to actually write catchy songs and tighten their performances, they apparently just f'd around on some new electronic music software and listened to Animal Collective albums (read: the last two Animal Collective albums). Yikes! This one's an "Oxford Yawna"!
