Unknown Legends

Originally posted @ Consume-Media.com

Even though the band claims its roots in Athens, Georgia, Atlanta is still kind of a hectic homecoming for Futurebirds. When I was talking to ToJo Dojo a.k.a. Thomas Johnson in the ballroom lobby of the Buckhead Theatre, we could barely get five words into a conversation before an old friend or family member would spot the distinguishingly bearded guitarist, stop, chat, and beam with holiday spirit and pride for the progress of the young band.

Thomas greeted each one with more zeal as he got more drunk on the comfort of being back home and the venue-provided Bud Light. When I told him I wanted to shoot a little promo for Consume, he suggested we go backstage where we would have a some quiet and a chance to catch up.

This is a big night for Futurebirds for more reasons than just impressing a hometown crowd.

It’s their first show in a while. They’ve been laying low in Richmond, Virginia, at Montrose Recording studios tracking their third LP that they hope to release into the world by next Fall. The departure from their stomping grounds at Chase Park Transductions in Athens was welcome, Johnson told me, they needed to shake up their environment in order to decompress, but also to avoid the creative trap of familiarity and comfort.

“We knew the room, the boards, everything so well,” Johnson said. “Which can be good, but we just wanted to loosen up and get a change of scenery.”

They’re excited about the album, genuinely invested in their baby. Thomas and guitarist Daniel Womack had something good to say about every track. Because they are a band born and bred on the road, their songs seem to really come together live. So with the new record on the horizon, they worked a few of the tracks into Friday night’s set.

Even with a receptive Atlanta crowd, it can be intimidating to test new material in front of an audience. But the Birds donned their best Santa suits, Heisenberg T-shirts and googley-eyed sport coats and pulled out some songs that had a surprisingly pure rock n’ roll feel to them. Not Buddy Holly. Greasy 1970’s, long-haired stoned-out romps. The new tunes fit right in amongst the sing-along wordless chorus of “Yr Not Dead” and the Peter Buck-esque “Serial Bowls”. It was an evolved sound that still held on to that indefinable Futurebird mojo.

But that maturity didn’t stop with the new material. The boys pulled out polished up versions of early tracks like “MJB”, material off Hampton’s Lullaby, “Johnny Utah”, “Happy Animals” and “Battle for Rome”, and they made them sweeter, more gutsy but still refined. They even paid homage to Neil Young and the Stones with roaring covers of “Unknown Legend” and “Rocks Off”.

The band was on their game. Harmonies came together better than ever. Guitars cut, drums grooved and bass danced, all wrapped in the velvety waves of Dennis Love’s ‘verb-ed out pedal steel.

And the Buckhead Theatre rocked and swayed in approval. Amidst a violent sea of Patagonia vests, people sang out at the top of their lungs, joining in on the raucous mood of the show, all while Futurebirds remained headstrong in their drunken swagger.

Futurebirds’ shows are an experience, for sure. Friday was a night of old friends, proud family, good beer, a little whiskey, and music that brought it all together. But it never ceases to amaze me how this band can bring so much out of its audience. I’ve never heard someone walk away from their show disappointed. Their excitement is contagious, an intangible aura that comes from a profound passion for the music they’re creating. So, catch them on their next tour and be on the lookout for the next album.

There’s a reason the band is already the next big thing coming out of Athens.

18 Great Songs Over 5 Minutes, 5 Best songs under 2 minutes.

If you were to check out the track listing of the Monkees, or any comparable 60's pop band's Greatest Hits compilation, you would likely notice that rarely does a song break the two-minute mark. Now, an artist used to be able to build a modest career on this formula. But even though our attention span for everything else is shrinking, artists have since been pushing the time limit for songs further and further.

Personally, I love lengthy tunage. It really distinguishes artists who have the ability to craft something profound and developed. So, I decided to compile my favorite songs over five minutes. The criteria for this ranking? Of course, it had to be over five minutes. It also needed at least 15 plays on my iTunes. I thought it would be hard to meet these standards, but I ended up having to choose my favorites. Here is the result.

Star Witness, Neko Case, 5:17, 21 Plays

Lyrics are pure. Harmonies are organic. Haunting riff, sparse production. Strings. And that voice. Oof. That voice.

Know Til Now, Jim James, 6:27, 41 Plays

Hokey synths. Shiny Vocals. Interwoven Rhythms. Hypnotic, head-bob worthy groove. Surprise Ending.

Harmonia, Cass McCombs, 5:26, 27 Plays

Tight Bass. Uplifting pedal steel. Acoustic strumming worthy of slow motion road trip sequence.

Metanoia, MGMT, 13:52, 11 Plays

Ambitious. Huge. Roaming. Righteous.

The Moldau, Bedřich Smétana, 12:59, 18 Plays

Quite literally a river of music. A natural, moving force of precision and determination in melody and form.

Little Johnny Jewel, Television, 7:45, 19 Plays

Deceptively planned. Perfectly improvised. Ugly guitar. Beautiful composition.

Sound of Failure, Flaming Lips, 7:18, 18 Plays

Drozd polka. Outdated pop culture references. Catchy as hell.

Shake it Off, Wilco, 5:43, 16 Plays

A stuttering beat meets a fluttering jam. Some of the best guitar playing Wilco has to offer.

Freddie Freeloader, Miles Davis, 9:49, 23 Plays

If you want to know what bebop Miles Davis is. This is it. Cool, mellow and explosive all at the same time.

Silver Song, Conspiracy of Owls, 6:10, 19 Plays

Classic without sounding old. Poppy without sounding redundant.

Ambulance Blues, Neil Young, 8:56, 25 Plays

The best Neil Young song you probably haven't heard.

Heroin, Velvet Underground, 7:13, 15 Plays

This is the reason I was sad when Lou Reed died.

Eyesore, Women, 6:25, 16 Plays

Haunting melody. Killer bassline. And a tambourine that gives you hope.

Jeremy's Storm, Tame Impala, 5:28, 19 Plays

Doesn't need lyrics. Textured groove that would make the Floyd jealous.

Cursed Sleep, Bonnie "Prince" Billie, 5:36, 20 Plays

Quiet instrumentation and a melody that pulls at your heart strings. Pained love is often the most beautiful.

Mare, Julian Lynch, 5:31, 23 Plays

Loose tom groove, auto-wah guitar, and a glockenspiel-undertoned melody. Need I say more?

Freddie's Dead, Curtis Mayfield, 5:30, 23 Plays

super.Fuckin.fly. Flea stole all of his bass lines from Joseph "Lucky" Scott.

Goin To Alcapulco, The Band, 5:29, 21 Plays

The Band is called the Band because they are THE BAND. This song brings me close to tears.




Now, for all of you who don't have all the time in the world to devote to music like I do, I've picked the best five songs under 2 minutes. Monkees, eat your pre-Head hearts out.


A Pretty Dress, King Tuff, 1:58, 16 Plays

Communist Daughter, Neutral Milk Hotel, 1:57, 12 Plays

Hold On, John Lennon, 1:52, 13 Plays

Magic Trick, M.Ward, 1:45, 16 Plays

'Til the Morning Comes, Neil Young, 1:21, 16 Plays

There Can Be Only One

Originally posted @Consume-Media.com

For the second time in as many years, Cass McCombs graced the stage of East Atlanta's premier venue, the EARL. It was not the packed, sweaty Thursday night of 2012. It was a sparse room, maybe 80 people, who had braved their way to the club on a drizzling Monday night.

The band took the stage in a mild-mannered form that has become somewhat of a signature for the quiet songwriter. They blazed through the first three tracks, barely stopping between them, as if they didn't want to risk the applause. But as they hit their stride in "Their Can Be Only One", the loose, jammy single from McCombs' latest album, Big Wheel and Others, something clicked.

They settled into the groove, the rhythm of the room. Joe Russo, of the Benevento/Russo Duo and Further, who played on the Big Wheel sessions, was pulling double duty on bongos with his right hand while holding down the beat with a single stick in his left. Jon Shaw moved effortlessly through the Mike Gordon bass lines, careful not to just copy the Phish bassist's studio work. And Dan Lead traded funky rhythms and quick fills with Cass on guitar.

They became a force, swapping musical cues in an almost extra-sensory trance. Precision and mastery of the songs and the sound mixed with an excitement that came only from exploration. The band was in their own world, but at that moment, they opened up to us. There was an intimacy that grew, a bond with the crowd that overtook the whole mood of the club for the rest of the set.

"Cass is amazing. But with this new band, they're unstoppable," said Corey Allender, bass player in Arbouretum, who served up some sludgey, driving, fuzz-laced melodies as the opener on Monday night. He's watched McCombs and company play almost every night of the past few weeks, and he's still in awe, still on his toes throughout every set.

"I don't know how they do it," he spoke quickly in between songs, "They add another three or four new songs to the set every night." The drums of "Big Wheel" rumbled in from the back of the stage. "Fuck yeah," he said. "I love this song."

The 20-date tour is a bit of a musical mismatch, Allender admitted to me, and superficially, he's right. Arbouretum is an eclectic mix of folky stoner/doom rock, not exactly what springs to mind when you think of Cass's sound. But in the pairing, there's insight into McCombs' songs and his fan base. In order to truly appreciate his records, it's crucial to have an unusually diverse taste in music.

McCombs is an enigmatic figure. He has garnered the reputation of a nomad, a troubadour. But as much as he moves from place to place in life, he moves twice as fast in his music. If you were to listen to "Love Thine Enemy", you'd be tempted to call his music Rock. "Pregnant Pause" is a finger-picked acoustic number. "Joe Murder" could be considered post-rock, even avant-garde. The songs don't seem to fit together, from album to album. And yet, every one of those tunes made an appearance on Monday night, fitting seamlessly into the set. The band was riding wave after wave on a steady ocean of McCombs' back catalog. Songs from Prefection, Catacombs, and Wit's End all came out with full confidence, spawning almost effortless jams and improvisations. They even pulled out an unreleased track that Cass called "The Missing Link". The small crowd even coaxed an encore, a fantastic version of "County Line".  

But with the final chords of the night still echoing off the walls of the EARL, the band left the stage, and the trance was broken. It was past midnight. I walked to my car in a daze, reveling in the afterglow, reflecting on the purity of that organic performance, and, ultimately, forgetting to close my bar tab.