Music Monday

We’ve been fans of Matt Pond since our friend and PA-native, Jon Roth, pulled up in his car blasting Pond's late nineties debut, Deer Apartments. Now, with a brand new backing band, seven full-lengths and about as many EPs under his belt, and 2010’s SXSW festival clearly in the rear view mirror, Pond and Co. are preparing to release an eighth album of new material and tour extensively. We recently e-sat-down with Matt to talk about the new music, the new band, comic books, and getting way deep.

Kindness of Ravens: Alright, sir. First off, thanks very much for talking with us. We know you’re out and about starting to play a lot of shows right now, so we appreciate your time.

So, you’ve got a new full-length coming out April 13, The Dark Leaves, and, if the word on the street can still be trusted, you’ve got an all new band backing you up. Does your new live band play a lot on it or is it mostly you?

Matt Pond: The album was performed as a band and then stripped of everything but it's core. Chris (Hansen—guitar, keys) and I slowly rebuilt the songs over the last few years in a shadowy cabin outside Bearsville, NY.

KoR: Sounds spooky. So, how does The Dark Leaves compare to your other work?

MP: The Dark Leaves is the older brother of Emblems. They hang out in the back of my mind, punching each other in the arm.

KoR: Is there any beat boxing?

MP: Not quite beat boxing. But there is snapping, clapping, oohing and aahing. That should count for something.

KoR: Indeed it does. We hear ooh aahs are the new beat boxing. Actually, we noticed, with heavy hearts, the absence of the cello on you most recent album, Last Light. Will it be making a return on the new album or in your shows?

MP: There were cellos on Last Light. They just didn't poke out the way they have in the past. I never intended for the cello to be a gimmick. It was supposed to be a voice -- just like any other voice. After Jim and Eve left (cellists on previous albums), there wasn't anyone that could pull off parts the way they did.

Eve Miller, Christian Frederickson, and Caleigh Drane all lent their strings to The Dark Leaves. We went a little lusher than usual, a little more in the direction of Ennio Morricone… just the direction. I would never assume to be near that ring of heaven.

KoR: Oh, I haven’t heard of him. We’ll have to check him out. We heard something about a series of vinyl 7”s/EPs that would be coming out leading up to the album release. We’re assuming the Starting release is the first of those, so do you have two more coming up soon?

MP: There are two more. Hopefully hitting soon. They clip together into a box with wholesome peepholes. They're designed by Julie Ruiz—a truly beautiful woman in all respects.

KoR: We looked Julie up after being so impressed with the design of Last Light. She really does create some beautiful work. Looking back at your past work, many of your songs and even entire albums seem to be pull imagery from the seasons. We’re thinking of the fall themes of The Nature of Maps and Emblems and the undeniable winteriness of the Winter Songs EP. Now you’ve got The Dark Leaves. Are these themes intentional or planned or has the seasonal/natural world just always inspired your writing, or given you strong parallels to emotions and relationships and the like?

MP: I'm not exactly sure what kind of person I am. It's not like a battery I can pull out and check for corrosion. I'm closer to a solenoid anyway.

I spent most of my younger years alone in the woods. No matter where I am now, I can't shake that feeling.

KoR: "Alone in the woods" seems like a good description of the feeling we get from much of your music.

Going back a bit—well, a lot—your superb song, “New Hampshire”, was featured pretty prominently in an old-school episode of The OC, back in its heyday when Seth was fighting the good fight to make comic-loving indie nerds cool, jokes about Friendster were still relevant, and Sandy’s eyebrows were bushy and full of vigor. We recently talked to a friend of ours who saw you just before that show aired—at Iota in DC with a crowd of 20- to 30-somethings—and then shortly after the show aired he saw you while being bounced around a crowd of teens and pre-teens. Was that a bizarre experience for you, especially so early on, before every other indie singer/songwriter could be heard in the background of Grey’s Anatomy?

MP: I could see some shifting. But then again, I'm not too concerned with age or pants or hair when I'm playing a show. If people like our band and they're not evil, then I could probably care less about demographics.

A side-note: The new trend in individuality is served as a bored same-ness. Disaffection is the new affectation. So that if you want to fit in -- you must merely act a little surprised, and then subtly stoked. You can practice these always-suitable lines with a friend -- "Wha…? Oh yeah, I'm so into whatever that is."

KoR: We practice that with our cat. He wears a beret and acts SO in the know. Now, as most people might already know, your original band formed in Philly, back in, what, ’98?

MP: Something like that. I prefer to keep my personal history open-ended. No dates to make things dated.

KoR: Fair enough. So, that explains the ‘PA’ in the band name. And then you moved up here to Brooklyn and I think may have then moved over to ye ol’ Manhattan after that (we’re remembering a Prospect Park show you played where you announced to Brooklyn that you were leaving it forever). Now, we realize you must have gotten this question before, but has it become somewhat annoying to have PA right there in your name? Or maybe it helps you remember your roots, keep it real, as they say. Do you get a lot of, ‘Hey, it’s Matt Pond NY’ jokes?

MP: I'm paying homage to the state where I began. Philadelphia is a damn fine city with some damn fine people. It was a relationship that had to end. But it doesn't mean I ever fell out of love.

KoR: Like with me and vegan chili cheese fry subs. We had heard a rumor of a semi-secret New York show that seemed to get canceled due to 100 blizzards in the city this winter. Any plans to hit us up post-SXSW?

MP: Secret shows aren't my thing. They provoke an air of exclusivity -- and I am on a warpath to bring down exclusivity. At least in my own circle. If we were going to do something spontaneous, I'd prefer someone's living room… and I'd probably prefer not to play. Maybe a little High-Life, maybe some Daft Punk. All I'm really looking for is a little hot night-life.

KoR: In that case, I sincerely offer up our living room. Speaking of SXSW, we also heard you and Chris did the music for a film that’s premiered down there, Lebanon, PA. Can you talk about that a little?

MP: Scoring kicks ass. If you'll pardon my post-hippie-ism, it allows me and Chris to write freely. We accent and underline, we don't poke and jab.

...I don't understand what I just wrote. For me, all music is scoring. With my own songs, it's just thicker and consumes in both good and bad manners. It's a matter of learning to enjoy my personal poisons.

KoR: Mmmm, personal poisons. So, being in the design/branding field, we’re always keen on over-examining people’s logos or names or general look. We’re fans of the logotype for The Dark Leaves and the new site. It seems like, on the site, at least, the album name is featured a lot more prominently than the band name at times. It’s all like, THE DARK LEAVES by matt pond pa. Is that a conscious effort to rebrand the music or its presentation?

MP: The Dark Leaves is a circular story. A few times over the years, I've considered dropping my name in favor of a better, 'less me' moniker… I want people to understand—though I write the songs, every incarnation has been a band. Our previous band conglomeration had the feeling of band-li-ness that I wanted to honor with it's own title: The Dark Leaves.

Unfortunately—or fortunately—everything comes to an end. More truths: People aren't always who they pretend to be. And I'm not always the best judge of character. When I realized that our band had died, it all fed into the songs and the idea of the album.

Life is a series of deaths and re-births. Every hit and blow (and internet condemnation), only makes the heart work harder. At least that's how I see the world—survival is mostly mental.

Stay mental, pony boy.

KoR: Damn. Deepness bomb, dropped. So, shifting to the totally superficial—you’re obviously a young, handsome, talented man, but, let’s be honest, you have been doing this for a while. Do you ever get totally sick of it and want to sell the amp and start, I don’t know, a diner in rural PA? Or a go over to day trading or something?

MP: Too kind, but I'll take it. Absolutely. I'm cynically tinged and tend to get swallowed by the darkness around me. Buildings make me claustrophobic, subways seasick, crowds are my cancer. I would kill for a farm and some goats. A couple snowmobiles, an obsolete oversized satellite dish.

KoR: Seriously though, have you ever been on any other sort of ‘career path’ or was it a straight middle school glee club to high school marching band to Philly-based indie band tract?

MP: It's often been mentioned that I have the worst 'voice' in our family, so I never imagined I'd be doing this.

My life is a steady line of constant mistakes. Most of these mistakes have led me to here. Playing shows and putting out albums could not have been further from my mind when I used to worry about what I was going to do with my life. And now it's everything. I’m typing in bed, still in Austin, seriously pleased that our SXSW situation wasn't a nightmare.

KoR: I hear it was good stuff, actually. Wish we could have been there. Now, feel free not to answer this, but we’ve noticed you fall back on what seems to be the verbal tic of announcing ‘Hold please,' to audiences when you have to tune or there’s a more significant pause between songs live. Is that a reference to anything or just something that developed? Or maybe we’re making it up…

MP: I've have heard myself saying such a phrase. It grew from the constant tuning breaks of our earlier years— two cellos, a violin, and an acoustic guitar can have some serious intonation friction in a rock and roll setting.

Now it's stuck in my vernacular—with the 'please' and the 'thank you'.

Pardon.

KoR: Thinking back over the years, what comes to mind, if anything, as the most entertaining, fun, or crazy-story-inducing show you’ve ever played?

MP: There are people with penchants for disrobing after killer shows, there are broken back-seat dance parties, there are close shaves with esteemed members of many metropolitan police forces, even an illicit liaison or two. Yet the specific craziness that comes to mind must be kept secret.

We become family on these tours. Closer than close. So that the flaws and the cracks become exaggerated and obvious. Everyone's guilty of something that they wouldn't do in more civilized situations.

I believe in loyalty above telling a good story. Therefore, the answer is going to have to stay stuck in my mind.

KoR: Ah, if only our friends had such admirably tight lips in similar situations. Okay then sir, we’re about to enter our lightning round. Favorite venue to play in the city?

MP: The Bowery's always been a sweet place for us. Both crew and venue.

KoR: Favorite New York band that isn’t you right now?

MP: Sharon Van Etten isn't a band. But she's the best thing to come out the NYC for some time.

KoR: Marvel or DC?

MP: Marvel.

KoR: Well-answered. Best band with whom to tour (grammar, recognize)?

MP: The Clientele. Best music, best people. Ever and period.

KoR: Just heard them on WNYC (you can listen to the taping here). Nice. Most likely Dungeons and Dragons race/class combo?

MP: My friends would never let me join their role-playing games. I prefer my own fantasies.

KoR: It’s never too late, my friend. Best show heckle?

MP: How about worst? "E.A.G.L.E.S." Spelled and shouted at a show in Philly. I have no idea what it means. But you have to respect a neanderthal's effort to communicate.

KoR: At least he spelled it correctly. Best recent movie?

MP: Let The Right One In.

KoR: See, we would have loved that movie if it weren’t for the fact that the dubbing was stuck on with the DVD. Plus, that cat scene, man…. Book you’re reading now?

MP: What I Talk About When I Talk About Running.

KoR: Best chord?

MP: I don't know what chords I'm playing—I make most of them up with…my own over-wrought tunings and clumsy clawings. So let's pretend I've chosen the best and most thoughtful answer.

KoR: E minor it is. Favorite childhood cartoon?

MP: Daredevil. Even the Affleck-wreck can't shake my faith in Matt Murdock.

KoR: Nice. I loved the Born Again graphic novel. Fender or Gibson?

MP: Fender amps and Gibson guitars… and some Fender guitars. And a Kalamazoo or two.

KoR: And, most importantly, in closing, can we request some beat boxing for your next New York show?

MP: I'm going to say maybe. Because anything can happen. I'm shocked and awed every time I get on stage and there's people there to see us. Therefore, beat-boxing? It couldn't be any more unexpected than the rest of this life.

Matt Pond is playing shows with his new band all across the country in the next few months and is releasing, The Dark Leaves, his eighth full-length, April 13th. In the meantime, you can order the first of the three 7”, Starting, here and listen to the single as this week’s Song of the Week (look over there, up and right).

Matt Pond photo by Cynthia Dobe.

Journal of the Movement of the World

The Find

We've been meaning to try the new, very positively-named Park Slope café, Sun in Bloom, since it opened in January. A) It's all vegan and sports a fresh, nearly raw menu that still manages to sound tasty, and, B) it's literally like two blocks from our design studio. So, yes, long time coming. Today we ventured across turbulent 4th Avenue to see just how bloomy this sun was. The result: Very bloomy. Bloomy's good, right?

The café opened in the recently-vacated shadow of Organic Heights, a very basic vegan café that focused on smoothies, juices, loose-leaf teas, and nice sandwiches and was very reasonable, price-wise. Maybe too reasonable, given last year's closing. Regardless, Sun in Bloom is very much keeping the dream alive, remaining 100% vegan and showcasing healthy sandwiches, rotating macro plates, and a build your own miso bar. As crunchy as all of that sounds, our fare did a superb job of working comforting, savory tastes into health-minded, whole-foods-based meals. Katie had the macro plate (pictured below), which today featured cannellini beans, steamed collards, brown rice, a raw sauerkraut (no, no, it was totally good!), and a really tasty tahini to top things off that seemed to have some lemon and miso mixed in, perhaps, to give it a bit of an edge. I went straight for the reuben, honestly expecting a fairly dry, hey-this-is-good-but-now-I-want-some-fries kind of take on the classic sandwich. Happily, my rather jaded presupposition was way off. It was great. Truly one of the best vegan reubens I've had of late, and make no mistake—I consider the reuben to be a bit of a culinary bellwether for vegan joints, especially cafés. Kind of like the pad thai or drunken noodle of a thai restaurant. This one had a good, not too weighty tempeh and, like the macro plate, a decent portion of live sauerkraut. The kicker was the super-creamy russian dressing though. Truly delectable. And the red velvet cupcake with brandy icing that we brought back to the office made for a lovely transition back into the work day. Blogging's considered working, right?

Music Monday

The Freelance Whales are destined to save humanity. I know, I know—we've been known to jump to conclusions in the past. Some might call us impetuous, some, easy-to-excite, but there's no way anything short of world peace could come from music this enjoyable and feel-good-y. Take note, UN, take note. Seriously though, these guys (and gal) are filling the long-vacant space in our hearts once occupied by The Postal Service way back when—with their Gibbard-esque vocals and glitchy-catchy keyboards—but then twisting things just so with choppy rhythms, less predictable song structure, and consistently present harmonium and banjo (what, what!) They just played down at SXSW NINE TIMES (cut to that scene with the principal in Ferris Bueller's Day Off) and are continuing their westward trajectory on a pretty extensive tour before heading back home to New York for an April 13 show at Bowery Ballroom and some east coast openings for Shout Out Louds. Be sure to catch them before they re-write the UN theme song and get REALLY big. Album out April 13 on French Kiss/Mom + Pop. Pre-order it here. In the meantime, check out 'Starring', this week's Song of the Week (the banjo breakdown in this RULES).

Journal of the Movement of the World

Music Monday

Holy shit. That's all we had to say at the end of the night Friday. Shortly after hitting the opening of Round Robin in Greenpoint, the stars aligned above the stormy veil of the night and, moments later, we found ourselves at The National's show at The Bellhouse, hands-down our favorite venue in Brooklyn (and Patrick's from Oh My Rockness, as chance would have it). They announced Friday's last-minute show and one on Thursday a mere three days before via various social networky outlets and—no joke—tickets were sold out in ten minutes. But, thanks to our extra-sleuthy friend, Nina, we scored two of the few remaining tickets day-of. The result: A whole lot of awesomeness. We assume they're polishing up their live show in front of some friendly faces before heading out on the road next week. Judging from the new material they played, the band's in no danger at all of hitting a slump after the massive success of The Boxer. The music and arrangements seem to have matured considerably and likely benefitted from the band members' various side projects—like brothers Bryce and Aaron Dressner's multi-media piece at Brooklyn Academy of Music and their Red Hot benefit, Dark was the Night—and singer Matt Berninger was as brooding, emotive, and commanding as ever. It made us supremely excited for the new album, High Violet, due out May 11. In the meantime though, we'll have to tide ourselves over with the memories of a truly superb show. And for anyone who missed their performance last week on Late Night with Jimmy Fallon, this week's Song of the Week is their live performance from that show of the new track, "Terrible Love" (which Beringer dedicated to his wife at The Bellhouse Friday). Photos by Bao Nguyen. You can see more of them and check out the night's set list over at Brooklyn Vegan.

Journal of the Movement of the World

The Round Robin Collective's exhibition, ECSTATIC falls under the category of Things Our Very Talented Friends Do. RRC is a group of thirteen artists—because they don't buy that triskaidekaphobia BS—working in Brooklyn to create and promote cooperative art outside commercial galleries. The exhibition is being held at the eerliy-classic-cool St. Cecilia’s Parish in Greenpoint from Saturday March 13 (no fear!) to April 4. But kicking things off is an opening party Friday night from 7-9PM, complete with opening party music by the also talented Donny Hue and the Colors and Irvin Morazan’s “Musical Chair Performance,” an homage to Saint Cecilia, who just happens to be the patron saint of musicians.

As Round Robin puts it:
"For four weeks, The Round Robin Collective - along with a group of invited artists - will populate the four-story maze of private rooms, living spaces, stairwells, and alcoves previously occupied by nuns. Taking varied approaches to the installation of their separate rooms, individual artists and collaborative teams will present recent works or will respond directly to the building, imbued with its unique history and sacrosanct aura. While some of the participating artists’ work deals directly with notions of ecstasy, the title of the show does not allude to an overt theme in the work presented; rather, it refers to the process of making and encountering art and the results produced from inspired relationships. Like the mental transport or rapture that can exist in the contemplation of the divine, the experience of creating and considering art can trigger moments of ecstasy."

Though we're not fortunate enough to be familiar with all of the artists, one of the 13, Deirdre McConnell, is both one of our favorite artists and one of our favorite people. A mad talented painter and multi-media artist, Deirdre creates pieces that we find beautiful, breath-taking, and wholly original. Last year, in desperate need of snazzying up our way-too-bare walls in our Brooklyn floor-through, we asked her to feed our crow/raven obsession and commissioned an original piece by her (detail above, out-of-focus mums in the foreground). If the other 12 artists are half as talented as her, we'll be impressed. Regardless though, we encourage you, fine reader, to hustle on over through the pending doom and gloom to the opening event tomorrow. And if you can't make that, be sure to check the RRC site for other date-specific events they're holding throughout the four-week period. Get you art on!

Below, the former convent's parish, where Morazan's "Musical Chair Performance" will be held. You can see a little more of Deirdre's work here, specifically the geometric fabric piece in slides 1 and 4 at the bottom of the page, and the piece in slide 10.

Music Monday

For those of you not already aware, Oh My Rockness is an online hub all things music, all things live, and all things awesome. As they put it, they take it upon themselves to "...filter through hundreds of show listings each week and bring you the best of the bunch." Basically, their goal is to make sure none of us have that 'Oh CRAP, I wish I had known about that show' moment ever again. Started in NYC by a pair of dedicated indierockophiles, Claire and Patrick, Oh My Rockness—or Rockness, for the curtophiles out there (sorry, new -phil/-phile word of the day toilet paper)—now catalogues indie shows in cities beyond New York, sponsors their own show line-ups, and is constantly showing off the pair's uncanny collective ability to find and showcase little-known, soon to be very-well-known creators of fine independent music. Having discovered scores of our favorite artists via their well-honed ability, we've been interested in catching up with the wizards behind the curtain for a while now and, last week, finally got a chance to talk with Patrick—one half of the Rockness—about the bands they're loving lately, Austin's SXSW music festival, a Cap'n Jazz reunion set, robot presidents, and monkey labor. What what?

Kindness of Ravens (KoR): Thanks, first of all, for figuratively sitting down with us, internet-style. So, briefly, tell us how you got into the Web-based musical Czar business? You all are married, right? Were you just sitting around watching ER one night and all of a sudden like, “You know what WE should do…”?

Patrick of Oh My Rockness (OMR): Indeed, we are married. But we started the site when we were un-married (which is not a word). Boy, what were we thinking?

KoR: No, I think the church is alright these days with starting businesses out of wedlock. Oh My Rockness is in a couple other cities besides New York now, right?

OMR: Yep, in Chicago and Los Angeles. We also do a SXSW site every year, which is like it’s own city. More cities coming soon though. So far, the Bay Area is probably in the lead for most requested new city. Now that Barry Bonds is gone, we just might do it.

KoR: Man, I had no idea Barry Bonds held such strong anti-Rockness sentiments. So, other than asking yourself, “Would Bonds hates this,” how do you all go about figuring out your recommended shows or bands you like? Do the bands slip you a Lincoln? Is there some sort of democratic process between the two of you? I mean, Patrick, what if Claire showed up and was like, “You HAVE to check out this new Creed album! They use mad vocoder!”?

OMR:
Basically it’s just the personal preference of the two of us. We have very similar tastes so it’s been really easy to find bands we both like. It’s truly 100% what WE like though. If bands want us to profile them, they can ask, but we have to like them. If we don’t like them, we don’t say anything at all. You know, Thumper from Bambi style. We always like getting new submissions though.

KoR: Have you gotten monetary offers in the past to write a band profile or show review or anything?

OMR: Never. We’re pretty clear on our About Us page that offering us stuff to profile shows and bands is not cool with us. Bribery is just kind of gross.

KoR: It’s right after VD on our list of gross things. And the word ‘moist.’ So, we’ve always wondered how it works with buying tickets via your site. Obviously it routes to the venues page or Ticketmaster or what have you, but do you all get a cut of anything? Or does the dude who runs Bowery just give you the ‘Hey Thanks’ nod and buy you a beer when he sees you?

OMR: We are an affiliate of Ticketmaster/Ticketweb, so we do get a small percentage on each ticket sale. If we sell a dozen tickets, we might be able to buy a latte if we’re lucky. So that’s cool. The other ticket companies that we provide links for; we just do so as a service to our users.

KoR: Nice. Now, we’re personally growing lamer by the day, we realize. We’ll go out to a show and be giving each other high fives for the next two weeks if we manage to stay awake into the AM. Do you all find it a bit of a challenge to grow old gracefully and remain the music scene juggernauts of NYC that you are?

OMR: We both pride ourselves in listening to/seeing a LOT of new bands. It’s something we really put a premium on. So while we’re definitely growing old (and by the looks of saggy skin, not gracefully), I hope we’re still relevant within the scene. Those late nights have gotten rougher though. Luckily, we bring plenty of pop tarts.

KoR: Maybe you could hire a monkey with a video camera to catch some of the shows. They work for cheap.

OMR: Our kid is really into Goodnight, Gorilla. So we’re preferential to gorillas. Are they cheap too?

KoR: Eh, they’re union, so it’s a whole other mess. I’d really recommend going monkey and paying under the table. So, we know a lot of this must come from living in the middle of it, but we really feel like there have been SO many great bands coming out of New York in the past year or two. Sure, it’s a super-populated center of creativity, but it seems like lately, especially, some great, great stuff has been happening, don’t you think?

OMR: Absolutely. That’s the best thing about living in New York. Just when you think a scene is fading and/or dead, another new scene sprouts up to start the whole creative process all over again. It’s like the coming of spring every year. There were birds….in the air…but I never heard….them ringing….

KoR: Wait, the birds were… Right, so who new are you liking ‘round these parts lately?

OMR: These questions are always tough. Generally, we’re not too good at being specific. But if we HAD to say: Small Black, Oberhofer, Javelin, Lemonade, The Depreciation Guild, Twin Sister, and Philip Seymour Hoffman we’ve been liking a lot lately.

KoR: Yeah, that Philip Seymour Hoffman band really threw us for a loop for a while. I still just picture the actor up on stage giving overly-dramatic, depressing diatribes on the futility of living before launching into a Dylan cover or something. Well, being such intense scrutinizers of bands and their music on the indie level, any advice for bands in New York or elsewhere on how to get some notice? No corny, “Believe in yourself and ANYTHING’S possible” answers allowed.

OMR: I guess just play a lot of shows and don’t suck. If you do those two things, you’ll probably get noticed by someone. Definitely don’t graffiti your band name on subway walls and sidewalks and stuff though.

KoR: Unless we’re off on our reading, at least one of you seems to have a musical fondness rooted in some old-school ‘90s mid-west style emo. Like, the good stuff, before it became mall emo. True? No?

OMR: You are good, friend. You are good! Yeah that time period and genre has a very soft, warm place in our high school/college heart. We were just listening to Braid this morning. Is that lame? If so, well, guilty then.

KoR:
Are you kidding? "First Day Back," "A Dozen Roses", and "Urbana’s Too Dark" have all been in heavy rotation for us for going on twelve years now. Yeah, we saw that you all flew over for that January Cap’n Jazz reunion in Chicago. What the hell was that like? Was it totally unannounced? Was it totally amazing? That seems akin to unearthing the ancient Egyptians to see how they built the pyramids. Wait, is that a good analogy…?

OMR: Ha. That was AWESOME! We had a last-minute tip they were going to play 5 songs, so we bought a last-minute plane ticket and went for it. We were shorted a song, they only played 4, but it was absolutely 100% worth it. If for nostalgic purposes alone…

KoR: Switching subjects out of jealousy, what are your all’s thoughts on music conferences or giant, 50-band rock shows, in general? Efficient use of our limited free time or just overload—like watching Lost, seasons 1-5, in a single sitting?

OMR: We’re into it. We like being able to see a bunch of bands play a bunch of really short sets in a short amount of time. Short sets are underrated! And if there’s a band we like a lot, we’ll see their full set when they do a proper tour.

KoR: Do you have a favorite music festival-conference-thing?

OMR: SXSW. But mostly because of the BBQ and Shiner and a robo-tronic LBJ at the Lyndon B. Johnson museum.

KoR: What the hell?! Our friends in Austin are officially in trouble for never taking us to that. So you all are going to South by Southwest this year, right? Any bands you’re particularly excited about that are playing?

OMR: We are. Definitely want to see Active Child and Male Bonding. Because we listened to them both today. And they rule.

KoR: Do you ever get totally sick of music? Maybe want to start a celebrity spotting site or an angry political blog or something?

OMR: We get totally sick of some types of music, sure. But never music in general. We don’t think we could ever get sick of listening to electro-pop or jazz or metal or folk or whatever Sandy Bull is while eating dinner. Music rules.

KoR: It seems like everyone operating in the Web world is always trying to figure out the next big step or merger or transformation for their particular Web thing. For instance, we’re planning on adding an auto-reader that starts as soon as you visit our blog and announces it’s entire contents in the voice of a sped-up, high-pitched Gilbert Gottfried. Do you all have any big plans—besides the snazzied-up new e-newsletters—that you can talk about?

OMR: We’re doing a WAY overdue site redesign very soon. And we’re going to incorporate more social components into Rockness. And we’re going to have more jokes about vacuum cleaners in our weekly email introductions. Because after all, what’s funnier than vacuum cleaners?

KoR: It’s true. Beater bar? Package yield? Turbine nozzles? All comedy gold. Alright then, lightening round time, sir. Favorite music venue in New York?

OMR: The Bell House.

KoR: Central large stage on the long dimension wall and Sixpoint Righteous Rye. Nice. Least favorite?

OMR: Any place where the stage is in the basement and there’s only one door to get in/out. Fire hazards SUCK.

KoR: Right? Any time we catch a show at Cake Shop, I can’t even concentrate on the band for fear of imminent, fiery death. Weird pet peeve?

OMR: When people insist on bringing their refrigerators to shows. It’s like, can’t you make it one night without bringing your refrigerator? No one likes your refrigerator and we all talk trash about it behind your back.

KoR: Asshats. Favorite TV show?

OMR: All-time? The Wire. Right now? Mad Men.

KoR: Oh, excellent answers, my friend. Best non-TV, band playing show you’ve been to in the last year?

OMR: See Cap’n Jazz question. No doubt.

KoR: Damn you! Most representative mythical beast?

OMR: Big Foot. Not the yeti, the monster truck. No way a truck with tires that big could exist. No way.

KoR: Fair enough. Best theme song from childhood?

OMR: Silver Spoons. And now we’re terrified of being run over by a train in our living room.

KoR: Best theoretical tattoo?

OMR: Michael Jordan. And it’s not theoretical.

KoR: Okay, this may seem like we’re asking a lot, but we feel that everyone should have this figured out for themselves: Favorite song of all time?

OMR: “Making Love out of Nothing at All,” by Air Supply. And we’re not joking. Listen to how many awesome parts there are in that song. It’s pretty much close to pop perfection.

KoR: And, finally, as important: Margarita with salt or without?

OMR: Depends. Are the roads icy?

If you're in the NYC, LA, or Chicago area, be sure to check out Oh My Rockness for great shows and sign up on their oh my informative e-newsletter to keep abreast of current rockness. Speaking of current rockness, Patrick and Claire are throwing a pre-SXSW in NYC show next Monday, featuring the Depreciation Guild and a bunch of other fine musicians. Check it out! And be sure to take a listen to this week's Song of the Week, as recommended by Patrick—Oberhofer's excellent "Haus." Like it? Oberhofer happens to be playing a show with Yes Giantess tomorrow night at Le Poisson Rouge in NYC, so check them out if you get a chance.

From the Nest

Curious Cookbooks

Two not really vegan but nonetheless interesting cookbooks popped up on our radar this week. The first is Double Take, from Harvard Common Press, and it tackles a unique task for a cookbook but one that many families may have experienced first hand: Make traditionally meaty dishes two ways—vegetarian and all meated up. As they put it:

"If you’re ever faced with cooking a meal for both vegetarians and meat-eaters, you’ll want this unique cookbook on hand. Coauthors and friends A.J. Rathbun (a vegetarian) and Jeremy Holt (a meat-eater) combine their culinary talents to create meals that satisfy vegetarians and omnivores alike. Preparing the 100 recipes is easy: Each starts by using ingredients that both meat-eaters and vegetarians would eat, and continues on like any normal recipe, until it gets to the part where a meat ingredient is added. At that point, the recipe splits into two parts—one half is finished with meat and the other with unique vegetarian flair."

They take stabs at soufflés, minestrones, a shrimp and grits meal, and, one of the more missed meat dishes for us, southern style barbecue sandwiches. Damn you, upbringing! They also evidently have a recipe for Osso Bucco—literally, "hole bone," an italian recipe involving *shudder* veal shank. The vegetarian version employs one of our favorite meat substitutes, Feild Roast's smoked apple sage grain sausage. So crazy, right? Not sure if we really want to look at a bunch of meaty photography, but otherwise, it seems pretty nice for bridging the vegetarian/meat-eater gap that might exist in some households.

Then that beardy red-haired dude who's always cooking on TV, Mario Batali, has a new cookbook—Molto Gusto—that focuses on easy-to-make traditional italian dishes that, get this, are largely vegetarian. Partly by chance, we assume, but we did catch Mario on WNYC yesterday talking about how he's eating less meat lately and thinks that, as a civilized society, we'll need to rely on meat less in our collective menus. Then again, his food photographer is named Quentin Bacon, so...

You can actually get a complimentary copy of the cookbook if you donate $180 to New York's public radio station, WNYC, during their winter membership drive, which is going on now. We poached (hah) a recipe for Pennette with Cauliflower Ragu from the WNYC Web site, omitting that pesky parmesan from the list of ingredients. It's below. And, if you like, you can hear the whole interview right here.

Pennette with Cauliflower Ragu

1 medium cauliflower (about 2 pounds)

¼ cup extra virgin olive oil
1 medium white onion, cut into ¼-inch pieces
3 garlic cloves, smashed and peeled
1½ to 2 teaspoons hot red pepper flakes
6 tablespoons unsalted vegan margarine, cut into 6 pieces
Kosher salt
1 pound pennette pasta
½ cup coarse fresh bread crumbs, fried in olive oil until golden brown
1½ teaspoons minced fresh rosemary

Halve the cauliflower. Cut off the leaves and reserve them. Cut out the core and reserve it. Cut the cauliflower into small bite-sized florets, reserving the stalks. Chop the core, stalks, and leaves.

Combine the oil, onion, garlic, and cauliflower leaves, stalks, and core in a large pot, season with salt, and cook over medium heat, stirring frequently, until the leaves are just beginning to wilt, about 3 minutes. Reduce the heat to low and cook, stirring frequently, until the cauliflower leaves are just tender, 18 to 20 minutes.

Add the cauliflower florets, red pepper flakes, and 1 cup water and bring to a simmer over medium-high heat, then reduce the heat to a gentle simmer, cover, and cook, stirring occasionally, until the cauliflower is very soft and almost falling apart, 22 to 25 minutes. Add the margarine, stirring gently until it melts, then season well with salt and remove from the heat. (The cauliflower ragu can be prepared up to 3 days ahead. Let cool, then cover and refrigerate; reheat in a large pot over medium-low heat before adding the pasta.)