From Lefsetz

It was on Asylum.

That’s one of the main reasons I purchased the Souther, Hillman, Furay Band’s debut. Richie Furay had been in not only Buffalo Springfield, but Poco. Stephen Stills and Neil Young had gone on to triumph in later incarnations, but Richie struggled. This supergroup was his last great hope. J.D. Souther wrote those great Eagles and Linda Ronstadt songs and Chris Hillman had been a member of the Byrds, the Burritos and Manassas. Only one problem, they hated each other. You can create a group on paper, but that doesn’t mean everybody’s gonna get along. But we didn’t know that, we only had the album. Which had no hits, but still went gold and peaked at number 11 on the chart and was filled with nuggets those who purchased it knew by heart.

In other words, what do you say about an album that was seen as a failure that everybody loves? At least everybody who bought it.

Richie Furay gave up. He went into the ministry.

Chris Hillman went solo then went into another failed trio with his old buddies from the Byrds and then found a niche in country.

And J.D. Souther went on to record one of the greatest SoCal albums that nobody heard.

I know, I know, J.D. had a hit single. With “You’re Only Lonely” in 1979. Not bad, but that track from the uneven album of the same name was eclipsed by so many cuts on 1976’s “Black Rose”. The record produced by Peter Asher in the classic Southern California style that barely made a ripple.

But I love it. It’s got his version of “Faithless Love”, sung like someone who’s experienced the heartbreak of a failed relationship. Linda Ronstadt knocks it out of the park, whereas hearing J.D. sing it is like stumbling upon your best friend in a room alone, after you’ve convinced him to unlock his door. He tells the story wearily, just the facts. But you can hear the pain in each and every word.

And also included is a version of “Simple Man, Simple Dream”.

But what will kill you is the two unknown originals. They’re hiding in plain sight for you to discover them today, “Your Turn Now” and “Baby Come Home”.

“Your Turn Now” is a masterpiece.

“The moon was yellow And the sky was cool The night can make a promise of love Or it can make you a fool”

Ain’t that every Friday night when you’re single. You put on your clothes and your attitude, use your best material and sometimes you come home drunk and sometimes you wake up in someone else’s bed.

“How would anybody know it If the real thing shined You’ve seen so many movies You’d probably think it was a line”

Everything I know about sex I learned from the movies. That’s what we judge our lives against, the movies. Soul mates? All that other crap? We get it from entertainment, we don’t really know what love is.

“Let me tell you I can fight like a man And cry like a little boy”

This is why we loved the Eagles, lyrics like this. The honesty, the immaturity, the incompleteness under the swagger. We like our heroes vulnerable.

And almost as good is “Baby Come Home”.

Ever been left?

Whew!

You can employ a bunch of strategies. You can go out and get drunk. You can go out and get laid. You can ring their phone off the hook. But none of it ever works. You just can’t forget, you can’t get them out of your mind. You’re waiting for them to come back home. Even though they never do. Maybe for a night or two. But when they leave in the morning you never know when you’re gonna see them again.

And the strings evidence the misery. J.D. starts out telling his story. Then he begins to plead.

“If you could trust me Try to believe me Listen to me when I say When I say that love is a burning fire And it will not fade away”

Love never evaporates. It’s like carbon. It’s got a half-life. You’ve just got to wait until the pain fades and you can start all over again, with someone new.

But until then…

“Some people pray, most every day Some people wait and see Ah, but deep in the night When nearly nothing’s going right You can hear him cryin’ Baby come home Sighin’ Baby come home Dyin’ Baby come home”

Sleepless nights. Of torture.

But it wasn’t like J.D. Souther emerged fully-formed on “Black Rose”. He had moments of genius before that. And some of them are on that Souther, Hillman, Furay debut.

The single was supposed to be Richie’s “Fallin’ In Love”. But it was too generic to hit.

The surprise was the Hillman tracks, “Heavenly Fire” and “Safe At Home” are rollicking cuts that have you raising your beer glass and singing along.

And then there’s J.D.’s “The Heartbreaker”. An Eagles track on a different album. This is the kind of stuff Glenn Frey sings about.

And the final cut, “Deep, Dark And Dreamless”, is the sensitive work J.D. made his name with.

But the best J.D. track on the album is “Border Town”.

I had a cassette. Taped from the vinyl record. I listened to it as I drove cross-country, back and forth, alone. It was my constant companion. Part of my DNA.

And lo and behold, I ask Kevin yesterday about his kid in the Air Force and he says he’s down in Texas, in Laredo, in a border town. And he starts singing these lyrics:

“Life ain’t so easy in this border town Too much dope and too much runnin’ around”

The Souther, Hillman, Furay Band: http://www.myspace.com/556248702/music/albums/the-souther-hillman-furay-band-8526174

J.D. Souther “Black Rose”: http://www.myspace.com/jdsouthermusic/music/albums/black-rose-9569430

FW: Captain Beefheart

4 Ways to Find Legal Music for Your YouTube Videos

Peter VanRysdam is the CMO of web design company 352 Media Group and the author of Marketing in a Web 2.0 World. Connect with him on Twitter @Peter352.

A good soundtrack can make or break a movie. The same holds true for your YouTube videos. The right song can help convey emotion or add humor. However, you can’t simply pluck a song from your iTunes library. Using a song you don’t own the rights to can leave your video looking more like a silent film. YouTube’s Audio ID technology automatically scans and detects copyrighted songs inside videos and, depending on who owns the rights, disables the audio or serves additional advertising on the video that is paid back to the rights holder.

So where does that leave the budding filmmaker? For most, jumping through the record companies’ hoops of acquiring rights isn’t realistic, especially for a video of your kid’s birthday party. YouTube’s enforcement means torrents are no longer the answer, and independent artists are looking for new ways to get their work heard.

Consequently, a host of options have popped up for users looking to integrate original music into their memes-to-be. Here’s a look at a few of them.

Chromeo - Hot Mess

Hot Mess is from the latest album Business Casual from NY and Montreal based group Chromeo. Video directed by Jeremie Rozan of Surface to Air

http://file-magazine.com/tv/chromeo-hot-mess

http://tv.nytimes.com/2010/11/14/arts/television/14webvid.html?_r=1 »

Photo: Todd leading the band

Photo by Heather Brogden of the Herald-Times of Bloomington, IN.

http://toddrundgrenarena.blogspot.com/2010/11/photo-todd-leading-band.html

A Publicity Stunt Or Viral Ad–Or Just A Band Connecting With Fans? [Voices]

By Michael Ho, Research Head, Floor64

About a week ago, a band named Atomic Tom apparently had all of its instruments stolen, but as the story goes, they still had their iPhones and the will to continue. So they filmed themselves performing one of their songs on a NYC subway-playing their iPhones, instead of their usual instruments.

Read the rest of this post on the original site

http://voices.allthingsd.com/20101019/a-publicity-stunt-or-viral-ad-or-just-a-band-connecting-with-fans/?mod=ATD_rss

LAME alert: “Take Me Out” by Atomic Tom LIVE on NYC subway

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NAllFWSl998&feature=player_embedded

Who cares?

You know how you know something’s fake? When you get e-mailed about it ad infinitum from the moment of its genesis.

They used to call it viral video. Did you ever get a virus and get deathly ill in a DAY? OF COURSE NOT! Viruses sneak up on you, you’re infected and don’t know it, you start to feel worse, then suddenly, it’s clear, you’re fucked up. Same deal with viral video. It takes a while to develop. If something explodes in a day, it’s fake, it’s being worked, it’s a publicity stunt. Or it’s news. Or it’s completely irrelevant.

Why does everybody still think old school works? That getting everybody to notice you once means you will last forever?

How about those bozos who stopped the freeway. They think Top Forty rules. Yes, if your desire is to be known by the most people instantly, sign with a major label, work with Dr. Luke, be like everybody else and get on the radio so people who don’t really care about music can know about you and the rest of us can read about you tangentially and never hear your music and instantly forget about you.

It’s the sixties all over again. Top Forty radio is vapid, with the lasting effect of a lollipop, and real music takes forever to get traction, but lasts when it does. Taio Cruz… That’s a catchy single. Do you really expect Taio to have a career, to matter five years from now, five MINUTES?

When you shove something down our throat, you only incite our gag reflex. But since you suck so bad no one cares or you’re giving it one last shot before you go to college, you do it old school, the twentieth century way, when the last I checked, we’re living in the twenty first century.

Do you know that band on the freeway’s music? God, I already forgot their name. Them stopping and playing on the 101 is just like you e-mailing me an MP3. YOU PISS ME OFF! I’ve got to wait all that time to download it before I delete it. How dare you take up space in my inbox! I’m going to work, and traffic is horrendous, and I’ve got to be exposed to your stupid stunt?

Have you read the research? Most YouTube videos have a lifespan of a day. So, if you’re planning to have a career on Tuesday and then give up and be an EMT on Wednesday, go for it, pull a stunt. Otherwise, you have to do it the hard way, you’ve got to make great music.

You can’t listen to a song at double speed. You can’t fast-forward and get it. That’s the magic of music. In a new world, it’s positively old school. It takes time and dedication in a world where both are at a premium. You’ve got to make it worthwhile for us to spend three and a half minutes with your track. That may not sound like a lot of time, but if people can’t resist texting while they’re driving to the grocery store, even though it’s illegal, do you think you can force them to sit through your whole damn song?

I didn’t sit through the whole damn clip linked above. Because the song didn’t hook me. What’s worse, it looked exactly like what it was, Brooklyn hipsters trying to goose their career, accelerate themselves into the mainstream. But I thought the point of being from Brooklyn was to be outside the game, to be hip and ahead of the game, to wait until the public catches up with you!

That’s how it works with all the greats. Bob Dylan wasn’t successful with his first album and Capitol wouldn’t even put out the initial Beatles LP in America. It takes time to find your niche and time for people to find you. And even though in the modern world you can theoretically reach people instantly, it takes longer and longer to reach everybody, because everybody’s got a shit detector, and they don’t want to waste their time, and they’re waiting until their trusted filters all say you’re good.

None of my trusted filters e-mailed me about this band. The fact that inane Websites that have to fill up their pages with something wrote about it is irrelevant. It’s like a turntable hit, no one cares.

Maybe if they played a hit song on their iPhones, or used the devices’ tracking abilities to find their supposedly stolen stuff, I’d care. But now I’m just glad their stuff was pilfered, so I don’t have to listen to these third-rate bards play music, so they can go back to school and be professionals and contribute to society.

Oh, don’t get your knickers in a twist, I don’t really feel that way, but I am angry that my inbox was filled up all day yesterday and today with people associated with this truly mediocre product telling me it was an amazing story, that it’s now got 200,000 views. It’s not the number of views, it’s the number of fans! It’s the number of people who will take the time out to listen to all your material, go to the show and tell their friends about it. Stunts are just that. And they mean ever less in this era where everybody’s looking for an edge and nobody’s got the time to waste.

—

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Digital Studios Make Tracks On the Go

Thanks to these sweet-sounding, (mostly) streamlined and lightweight machines, even amateur music makers can cut a good demo.

http://feeds.wired.com/~r/wired/index/~3/apinB6BIsG4/

Feel - Lefsetz 9.23.10

I’m reading this book about Todd Rundgren entitled “A Wizard A True Star, Todd Rundgren In The Studio”. It’s a recitation of all his productions, even albums I’d never heard of, I was stunned at how much work he did before engineering the Band’s “Stage Fright”. Everywhere you turn it’s Gladwell Time, evidence of 10,000 hours of preparation. Yup, we may only see the tip, the success, the iconic effort, but the legends didn’t emerge fully-formed, hell, even Elton recorded demos, disbelieving he’d ever make it as a solo artist. Not that Todd produced Elton. That would be interesting. Albeit a failure. Because what made those early Elton records so great was Gus Dudgeon. “Elton John” sounded like it was cut in a church. And “Tumbleweed Connection” sounded like it was cut in an uncompleted building on the prairie, a schoolhouse with only three sides. Dudgeon’s productions sounded rich and deep. Whereas Todd’s productions tend to be thin. Then again, thin can be great. Isn’t that the essence of garage rock? Anyway, I’d love to recommend this book, but even I’m not reading every word. It’s heavily researched (do I trust the research?), but it’s just not written that well. First rule of writing a book, you’ve got to be a good writer. Yes, sometimes a tale tells itself, you can just lay it out and it has maximum impact, but Jon Krakauer was not the only person who wrote about the ‘96 Everest tragedy, but he was the only person who could make the story come alive, you felt like you were there, high up on the mountain, freezing in the blinding storm. Todd says he concocted the final version of Badfinger’s “Day After Day” and got ripped off when George Harrison got the credit, but that’s one track I cannot ever get over. What a sound! And not long thereafter, there was another hit, by a band I reviled, well, I secretly loved “Closer To Home”, Grand Funk Railroad. But there was this record on the radio. And my ‘63 Chevy only had an AM radio. And when it came pouring out of the speakers not only did I crank it up, but I banged the dashboard, I sang along at the top of my lungs, I LOVED “We’re An American Band”, made me think Mark Farner was all right, after years of despising him. And in this Paul Myers book, Mr. Farner says… Well, let me set it up. The band’s going to record in Miami, at Criteria, even though Todd would prefer to cut in his home studio in NYC: “Farner says he was just excited about his band heading into new and unfamiliar territory. ‘I tend to think that anything new might inspire me to write a new song or riff. Stuff like that can be the magic it takes to get that feel or sparkle on a record. If you take the feel out of a song you got like 20 per cent of the song left. And luckily for us, Todd is all about feel.’” EUREKA! Yesterday the announced the new “American Idol” team. I’ve got an opinion, I’ve got thoughts, but I decided not to write anything because I just wasn’t in the correct mood. Content is important, but feel is key. How do the words flow together, is the reader gripped, does he get excited? With the ability to labor over phrasing, to literally use the best syllables of a word in a track, “artists” are going for perfection, and perfection is always subsidiary to feel. Ever meet someone beautiful who has nothing to say? You lose interest almost immediately. Ever meet someone ugly who rivets you, who you fantasize about laying down in bed with? OF COURSE! It’s their personality, it’s their feel that translates, you just want to get closer. It’s the same with records. It’s about nailing the performance, not perfection. That’s one of the reasons why music is in the dumper. In these beat-driven records you oftentimes can’t hear the humanity, they’ve got no feel! This isn’t anti-hip-hop, some of the great early rap records have tons of feel, when they were recorded quickly, in studios by people knowing if they didn’t succeed, they’d be consigned to a life of blue collar drudgery, possibly even death. You could hear these performers willing themselves to make it, right in the track! We’ve all heard demos of successful songs that could never be hits on their own. They needed production. But that doesn’t mean overproduction is good. The question is how do you create a cohesive sound, that translates to the listener? In other words, rather than spend days in the studio getting it right, you’re better off playing golf and waiting for inspiration and when you get it RUNNING into the studio and laying down the track immediately. So many great records were done this way, quickly. They’re laden with mistakes, but we don’t care, we love them despite their flaws, just like we love human beings. Not that it’s about golf… But we’ve got too many people masquerading as artists who’ve got no idea what art is. Art is conceptual. It’s something you think about. And after thinking about it, you can frequently construct it in the blink of an eye. That’s true for abstract impressionists as well as songwriters. Not that it’s got to be done quick to have feel. Look at “Good Vibrations”! But Brian Wilson was all about feel. Carl’s vocal! The theremin! Getting it right is often missing the point. It’s about capturing the emotion, laying down a track that grabs hold of hearts and minds and demands a place in the firmament.

long time fans great review of this show

What a superb review by someone who is paying very close attention to details. Some of which I would have missed. Alas, I’m not the biggest Todd fan of all.
But thought of you guys. by Josh Chasin Sheesh, where to start? For me, going in this show was all about Healing. Todd (the album) was one of the records I listened to a ton when first discovering Todd’s (the guy) work; it was one of the records my college girlfriend and I used to spin to death. But over time it just hasn’t aged well for me. Part of this is that I haven’t yet heard a CD version that didn’t sound tinny and shrill, whereas I just don’t remember the vinyl that way (similar experience with AWATS, by the way.) “Healing” the song may well be my absolute favorite 20 or so minutes of Todd’s recorded catalog, and it has been, since 1981, my personal Holy Grail for what material I most wanted to hear live. The song and album is heavily synthesizer-based, and since in 1981 he was touring with new wave posters Utopia, the material didn’t really lend itself to live performance; I think they did “Healer,” “Time Heals,” and “Compassion” off it on the camouflage tour, and that was it. But in concert I was delighted to rediscover the giddy silly fun of Todd. Overall, across the two albums performed, I generally found that the songs I like best were indeed the highlights for me. And I think for Todd (the guy) as well. Anyway, first the band. I think this may just be the dream ensemble for performing Todd’s back catalog live. Jesse is a great technical player, and he can flawlessly cover the formal guitar parts (the riff in “Golden Goose,” for example), freeing Todd up to sing or solo. When Jesse did toss in solo work, it was always tasteful and, I’m tempted to say, discrete—where Todd sort of sprays all over the song, Jesse lays out judicious lines that color the song while leaving it intact. Except of course for “Spark of Life,” where he got to go bonkers leading up to “No, no, no, a little more humanity!” Oh man, Greg Hawkes. I was never a big Cars fan, they were always a radio band for me (or, it being the early `80s, a video band) but his synth sound—is it his style, his equipment? I don’t know, but it is perfect for this vintage, trippy, electric swirly music on Todd and Healing… Meanwhile, Bobby Strickland might be, if Hawkes isn’t, the MVP; both these records have a lot of reed work, and this guy just totally nailed every bit of it. Prairie, I know there are mixed feelings on him, but his bashing style sounded right at home especially on the Todd material… I read some of the complaints about the mix on the live webcast, and I went and listened to it after the show, and I can tell you, in the room—at least where I was, 4 rows behind the soundboard, dead center—it was a different story. I was blown away right out of the box, it sounded unbelievable. Clear, crisp, loud, dynamic, and at the best sonic moments (e.g. “Pulse”) the room sounded like headphones, the music coming from all around. And I much preferred the staging of this show to AWATS (and I find AWATS and Todd to be musically similar); last year Todd performed in front of the band; here he performed with them. I felt like he was more a part of the band, as opposed to the costume-changing lead singer… The opening “How About a Little Fanfare?” and “I Think You Know” immediately put a smile on my face. The Todd record is really, to me, one album’s worth of songs, fleshed out with a whole lot of playful if indulgent synthesizer noodling that was awesome when I was 21 and wasted, but that perhaps hasn’t aged quite so well. But it was great fun to hear live; “Spark of Life”, the first such indulgence, set the tone for the night (or at least the first set), Todd backed with tapes (I think) and live playing, synthesizing his own voice as a lead instrument. And Todd’s keyboard playing! I never thought I’d say this, but it was really solid! Set up center stage, with Jesse and Kaz to our left, Greg and Bobby to our right, he had obviously been practicing. This was the most keyboard I’ve ever seen Todd play at a show, by far; and the first time in over 30 years of shows that I’ve seen him play keyboards in a band context (usually it’s him solo playing “Too Far Gone” or “Compassion” or something.) I noticed too that for the songs he’s regularly played live—like “A Dream Goes On Forever”—he stuck to the studio rendition, not the live rendition that has evolved. On the first line of the vocal to that song, there’s this ringing synth exclamation point, and there it was, right on cue. “Drunken Blue Rooster” was great, Todd’s playing as the centerpiece to a wobbly band rendition. “The Last Ride” was killer, hewing again closely to the recorded version. I always thought this was a highlight when 4-man Utopia pulled it out, and here I missed Kasim’s backing vocals—he either wasn’t singing, or was mixed way down— but I realized that his voice is strong and distinctive, and his singing would have colored the performance differently than on the original. And of course where I was expecting a guitar solo mid-song, Strickland stepped up for a sax solo (like on the record) and blew the top of my head off, followed by that trademark incendiary Todd guitar soloing. I’ve always been partial to side 3 of Todd. “Number One Lowest Common Denominator” was as scalding as you’d want and expect, and “Useless Begging” was one of numerous laugh-out-loud fun songs, thanks to Prairie’s tap dancing solo interlude, which was somehow inexplicably perfect. Then “Sidewalk Café,” more synth indulgence but leading to the unbearably poppy, transcendent “Izzat Love.” More laugh-out-loud feel goodness; long a favorite song. Todd nailed it—nailed it!—his voice was spot on all night, and man, I just wanted this one to go on and on (I have resolved to learn it on ukulele.) It took me a good half of “Heavy Metal Kids” to stop luxuriating in “Izzat,” but once I did, man, that was pretty ripping. Wisely I’d say, Todd excised “In and Out the Chakras We Go” (yet another bit of synth-foolery) and fell right into “Don’t You Ever Learn,” what I’d call a drunken blue version. Full, lush, great sounding, and the perfect set closer; the omission of “Sons of 1984” at the end was telegraphed a mile away (not least by the people outside handing out the lyrics for the encore sing-along.) If Todd is a synthetic psychedelic romp, best illuminated with colored laser, then Healing is a deeply profound and ambitious work, a far better exhibition of song craft, and all about the white light that shines from within (and, of course, a glorious white light featured prominently in the staging in place of set one’s dancing laser.) In fact I had trepidation that this material wouldn’t translate live, and I was wondering if maybe I wasn’t better off with the recorded versions living in my consciousness. I needn’t have worried. To me the important songs on Healing are “Healer,” “Pulse,” “Shine,” and of course “Healing” (these, as well as the two off the inserted single, “Time Heals” and “Tiny Demons,” are the ones on my iPod.) “Healer” tells of a visitation and a calling (“you will be a healer”) that is clearly evocative of the Christ myth; “Pulse” is about the healing energy flowing from some other realm through your own heartbeat. “Shine” is a vital and underrated song, with the message that there isn’t one healer; we are ALL healers (or at least 10 million of us; 10 million saviors, angels of man. “The healer is not alone.” Eyes that have seen, or in this case ears that have heard.) Then “Healing” is an actual meditation that takes the listener inside, walks you through the process referenced in “Shine,” turns on your light, takes you out the other side, healed. But back to the show… To put over the rich layers of vocal work on this record, Todd used a chorus; “Healer” was brilliant, glorious, beautiful, all bells and voices. Sublime layers of joyous sound washed over us. Then “Pulse.” Unbelievable. The woman sitting next to me was obviously on the same page as me; we were audibly gasping, laughing and remarking on the same songs, and this was one of them. “Pulse” is pure ear candy on headphones, and it was put over in an even richer fashion live. I never much liked “Flesh,” but it was surprisingly robust live, and I may have to put it into the pantheon of the record’s important songs (and on my iPod.) “Golden Goose” is a silly novelty song, and unlike the rest of Healing, Todd played it that way. In this concert I heard a direct lineage from “Elpee’s Worth of Tunes” to “Golden Goose.” “Compassion” is a fan favorite, I know, but again, not one of mine; a nice rendition but the house liked it more than I did. Then “Shine,” which was dramatic, dynamic, chilling, exquisite. More than once I let out an involuntary exclamation of joy. The chorus, mixed perfectly, provided the layered vocal arrangement of the record, and the strong female presence in the chorus brought a nice freshness to the sound. Hawkes’s synth was great, and at the end when Todd stepped up for the outro solo, it was pure shining white light. I was wondering where Todd would put the two extra songs; when I used to put this record on cassette, I placed them between the two sides. That’s where “Tiny Demons” was, a full band version, with Jesse handling the guitar part. Out of “Tiny Demons,” the ringing intro to “Healing,” and then the thumping heartline bass. I’d been waiting 29 years to hear this piece live. I read where someone thought it wouldn’t work in a concert setting (“who wants to meditate at a concert?”) but I’ll tell you what, for me the most memorable, rewarding concert experiences of my life have been the ones that have been transformative, spiritual, healing, ecstatic, bordering on religious. The thing that keeps me coming back for more live music is the possibility for the music to seep into my heart, turn my metaphysical frown upside down. That’s why I like improvisational music (the Allmans, the Dead, jazz, even the blues); because the creation of music in the now creates opportunities for moments of magic. So here we have an extended piece, played for the most part precisely as composed and arranged, but specifically designed to provide that sort of transformative healing experience. Todd put it on record as an experiment; performing it live was really a whole new level of experimentation. I know that as much as I love watching the Allman Brothers play, when they launch into “Dreams,” a transformative piece, I almost never keep my eyes open; the music takes me on a journey within and I have to close my eyes and take the trip. So I was ready to go with the musical flow. The transition from the first to the second movement was sublime, and that movement, all ethereal synth lines and heavenly voices, took me slowly down the river of life. I especially appreciated that Todd, a renowned goofball, treated this material with the reverence and gravitas I thought it deserved… then the chiming that summons you back, Todd announcing “Here we go!” and the final movement of “Healing.: it was pure unadulterated joy, a seven minute Snoopy dance, Todd singing “Welcome home!” again and again. When that transitional chime first sounded I wondered for a moment if we were going to stand; then I actually said out loud, “of course we stand!” and up I went, happy Snoopy dancing like a big ol’ fool. It didn’t take long for the rest of the crowd to get into the act, dancing, shining, basking, healing into the night… Todd strapped on the Fool guitar and took the band from the cascading outro of “Healing” into “Time Heals,” a great song that I’ve always loved, and loved live. I think this was a great placement for the tune and the only logical way to get out of “Healing.” Still, it couldn’t help but be anti-climactic; how, after all, do you follow a Snoopy dance? The inevitable “Sons of 1984” encore was more light and joy. I’ve never been super-fond of it—in part because I think the recorded version on Todd is of iffy fidelity—so this was actually the best rendition of the song I’ve ever heard. The band actually faded out at the end (a live fade?) and the curtain closed on them, to a well-deserved ovation; then the crowd kept singing, the fanatics in the first couple of rows exorting the rest of us to keep it going. I don’t know how long we all sang—it felt like a good ten minutes. Finally the lights came up and we were done. The one track cut from the Todd album’s running order, “In and Out the Chakras We Go,” played over the house system as we filed out, providing some arcane closure. It’s been almost a week now, and I think I have things in perspective. I liked this show better than the AWATS show. It may have been the best Todd show I’ve been to, and it was one of the best concerts I’ve seen. I wish I could see it again. I wish I could have hit Morristown the next night, but work called. Of course my take is entirely subjective; it’s largely a function of my fondness for the material, the quality of the performance, and the fact that this 51-year-old was able to reconnect with my own younger self in the process. In Shamanism there is a thing called “Soul Retrieval,” wherein using the tools of shamanism you journey within, confront some trauma or unresolved issue from your past, and bring back a piece of the soul that you’ve lost over the years as a result of that trauma or issue. You are, to coin a phrase, whole. That’s what this was like for me; a joyous, spiritual, religious musical experience, one from which I emerged tangibly energized. And also, my ears were very, very happy. http://toddrundgrenarena.blogspot.com/2010/09/long-time-fans-great-review-of-this.html