2012-2013 has been a pretty amazing time for live music. So amazing, in fact, that I feel it deserves a recap. I haven’t performed live since December but I’ve been fortunate to see five musicians I truly admire. In chronological order: Mount Eerie, Jeff Mangum, Jaymay, Jad Fair, and Ramblin’ Jack Elliott. A lot of J names, I know, and I don’t know how that came about. What are the odds? Well, if I still lived in Las Vegas I might be able to tell you.

Mount Eerie, The Microphones

Back in October I saw Mount Eerie perform at The Crescent Ballroom in Phoenix, AZ and after the show I got to sit with the band and talk with Phil Elverum. Phil was nice and soft-spoken, unaffected by my sad attempt at controlling my fanboyness. I got into The Microphones – a former incarnation of Mount Eerie – around the fall of 2001; they recorded exclusively on reel-to-reel tape, a practice that Mount Eerie still follows, and it suits both the sound and the atmosphere of their music. At the time, I was still recording on four-track cassette tape, some of which would end up on the “bonus songs!” section of the maybe by this time next year / today is boring double disc. Ever since hearing the first song on The Glow Pt. 2 I’ve thought about that sound, the texture, during every recording session I’ve had. I’ve made at least a few obvious attempts to duplicate it, but in general it made me think about how much, or how little, you can add to a song and the organic nature of that process.

Jeff Mangum, Neutral Milk Hotel

Although I thought I’d never be able to say this, I saw Jeff Mangum of Neutral Milk Hotel perform live; he played two shows in one night and I went to both. Neutral Milk Hotel recorded various songs, an EP and two albums; one of them, In The Aeroplane Over The Sea, is probably one of the greatest albums ever (ever). Surreal, thought-provoking, beautiful, inspiring, tragic and epic. Years ago Jeff retreated from the spotlight and it seemed like he would never tour again until recently; he still didn’t really talk to anyone and snuck onto (and then off) the stage. Still, seeing him and hearing his unique piercing voice, singing songs that sound like the strangest dreams, waving and half-bowing appreciatively (and shyly) was quite the experience. I’m not one of those crying-at-shows people, but I came close a couple times.

Jaymay

For our first concert as Austin residents, we went to see Jaymay at Lambert’s Downtown Barbeque. Jaymay is absolutely one of my favorite musicians. If you only have two minutes listen to “Long Walk To Never,” but if you have ten minutes listen to “You’d Rather Run” from Autumn Fallin’. She writes and sings with honesty and sincerity, her stories unfolding in minutes with all the quality of a great book or movie, with songs that sound like they have to be true, because the humor, the heartbreak, the love is all right there in front of you. Anyway, her performance was amazing. I talked to her before the show, helped adjust the microphone stand and even got a shout-out. She was as nice as can be.

Jaymay at Lambert's

Jaymay, singin’

Jad Fair, Half Japanese

During my first trip to Waterloo Records as an Austin resident, I noticed a plainly printed letter-size flier announcing that Jad Fair would be performing the next day. Jad Fair! The Jad Fair! Okay, not a household name, but a founding member of Half Japanese, a band I love and a band that helped further inspire me to express myself, even if I had to make some noise or sing not-perfectly to do it. To a certain extent I owe a lot of my noisier feedback-ridden recordings to the Velvet Underground, but I think Half Japanese helped me consider the possibility of making noise for people, not necessarily at them.

Jad Fair and rushmore beekeepers, together at last

Jad Fair and me. Notice the Jaymay shirt? Good job!

Ramblin’ Jack Elliott

It seems many places in Austin are legendary, and The Cactus Cafe is one of those places. Townes Van Zandt used to play there, and in my opinion any room he set foot in is legendary. Carrie and I saw folk singer Ramblin’ Jack Elliott play there; it’s a small room, accommodating around 150 people (guessing). I’ve seen some video footage of Ramblin’ Jack, most memorably in Bob Dylan’s Renaldo and Clara, and I’ve heard a fair amount of his live recordings, but seeing this short cowboy walk into the room like he was just some guy – that was something. Well, first some kid pushed past him to get into the room, and the ignorance of that action made me want to grab the kid and sing “Diamond Joe” in his face. (I say kid, but he might’ve been in his early or mid twenties. Shhh.) Ramblin’ Jack lived up to his nickname and spent much of his set telling funny stories. He talked about Woody Guthrie and Bob Dylan, offering hilariously accurate impressions of both of them. A cowboy poet friend of his recited a couple poems while Jack took a break and got coffee. I also got coffee, primarily so I could say I shared a pot of coffee with Ramblin’ Jack Elliott.

Ramblin' Jack Elliott and me

Ramblin’ Jack Elliott and me

Hey, Austin. rushmore beekeepers is coming to you at some point in the near future. That is, moving there next week.

Being in transition is rarely easy, even when the change is good. I’ll probably always feel somewhat restless; maybe that’s just one of those things that goes along with being a songwriter. It’s probably my neurotic and borderline OCD nature, but I like feeling settled. I like having my musical instruments out and ready to play; I like being able to make plans a month in advance, although I’d usually rather just stay home. (This could transition to amazing music overload really fast, especially in a place like Austin.)

I’m ready for a change. Las Vegas is a great place in a lot of ways, but I’ve been ready to leave for the better part of the last few years. Musically speaking, my favorite thing about Vegas is its proximity to San Diego, CA and Cedar City, UT (although I do not take advantage of that nearly as much as I should). I have some amazingly loyal and fantastic supporters here, some who have become great friends, but I can’t honestly say rushmore beekeepers has ever fit in with the local music scene. Some of my friends/fans are excited about my upcoming move – not because they want to get rid of me (at least I hope they don’t), but because they sincerely believe it will be great for my music.

How do people find a place they call home? How do you decide where you are going to live? Are these dumb questions? It seems like such a monumental decision, and some people just seem to know. There are so many fantastic places in this country, in the world. There was a point in my life I wasn’t sure I’d ever live anywhere outside of Las Cruces, NM, but now I feel like I’m on a quest for the perfect place or a way to be constantly exploring.

Back when Carrie and I were trying to decide whether to move to Austin, knowing that it meant leaving a fairly comfortable and secure life for an uncertain future, I stood precariously balanced on our couch and gave some (probably crazy-sounding) speech about how you can’t be afraid of the unknown or stay somewhere just because it’s comfortable, secure, and familiar. (I’m paraphrasing myself; I was being spontaneous.) I was telling this to myself just as much as to her.

As much work as it is for me to mentally prepare for meeting new people, doing new things, driving in an unfamiliar place, and the rest of the changes that come with relocation, I am constantly and painfully aware that I could get stuck in a rut and easily stay there for the rest of my life.

Don’t get me wrong. If I find the right porch to sit on, I will sit on that porch for a thousand years.

Here’s a song I wrote in Austin, about Austin, possibly over-romanticizing Austin:

The Yellow Dress was kind enough to stop by Dirt to Mud studios in January while on their Winter Taco Tour 2013 to record some live-in-the-studio songs, now available as a digital album and a limited edition cassette over at the Snorin’ Desert bandcamp. This band is great, and it was easy to record them because they are passionate and talented, and they put on a show fit for a much larger audience than Carrie, our dogs, and me. I would’ve loved for more of Las Vegas to experience their music, but I was happy to document the unique line-up in an intimate setting.

Members of The Yellow Dress have other fantastic musical projects, among them Diners and Zoe Rose.

I recommend listening to the whole album on bandcamp (and buying it, of course), but here is one of my favorites: a high-energy performance of “Heavy Beekeeping,” a lyrically powerful and intense song which they dedicated to me for an obvious reason (bees, not beads).

Happy New Year! I have at least two songs about the beginning of another year (that I can remember without researching). I don’t make resolutions and I don’t get particularly excited about another year, but it is always a good time to try something new, start something over, make a change, and explore possibilities.

“another year” is the happier of the two songs below, so I listed that second. In that scenario, you have to listen to both songs so you can cheer up. Diabolical, I know.

Page 12 of 17 1 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 17