Sun Sun Sun…

Well, whaddayaknow? I’m bringing the blog out of retirement to hype a song and the upcoming release on which it is featured. That song is “Roscoe” by the Denton, TX, outfit Midlake. If you’ve already heard it, that’s understandable, because it really seems to be making the rounds. But it can’t hurt to hear it again. In fact, I’m going to listen to it again right now.

Midlake is one of those bands I’ve always heard about but, for whatever reason, never bothered to check out. Our states share a border, and they’ve been up here a number of times; I’ve just never had a reason to go see them perform. Now I do have a reason, and you’d better believe I’m going to do all I can to see them in Norman with Ester Drang this Saturday.

“Roscoe” is a noticeable departure from the band’s previous work (examples of which can be streamed on their Myspace), and what an awesome departure it is. All signs point to some serious ’70s rock/singer-songwriter influences, which are evident in the song’s layers of vocal harmonies and its general feel. If this song is any indication, The Trials of Van Occupanther (Midlake’s upcoming LP) is going to be a beast.

Anyway, I won’t ruin it for you. Check it out for yourself, and show your ears a good time:

mp3: Midlake - “Roscoe”

[thanks to Gorilla vs. Bear for the heads up]

      It’s been a long time since I’ve been to a show during which the audience was absolutely glued to the performer’s every movement. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve ever been to one (with the possible exception of a mewithoutYou show here and there) in which all eyes in the room were so intently fixed, all necks so expectantly craned and all bodies so eager as they were throughout Sufjan Stevens’ entire set last Wednesday.
      Something about Sufjan tends to raise expectations, and he never disappoints. My brother and I made the four-hour trek to Lawrence fully confident that we would be seeing something spectacular. I’d heard the stories about matching costumes and cheers and other such pageantry. Had it been anyone else, I would have dismissed it entirely. But this was a man who had written grand, sprawling musical epics for Michigan and Illinois, a man with an uncanny knack for turning gimmickry into something truly entertaining and, more often than not, truly genuine. I knew he’d pull it off; I just didn’t know quite how.
      A sign at the entrance to the Bottleneck read, in large letters, “THE SUFJAN STEVENS SHOW IS SOLD OUT.” Still, each audience member had at least a little space to sway during Liz Janes’ soulful set. Janes began and ended her set beautifully, alone with a ukulele. In the interim, she played electric guitar and solicited help from most of Sufjan’s Illinoisemakers (including the man himself on drums). It was a solid set, if a bit short. But everyone knew the bulk of the stage time would be set aside for Sufjan’s spectacle.
      Soon, we were shoulder to shoulder and sweating fiercely, but no one seemed to care. All eyes were on the empty stage awaiting the band’s arrival. When they finally mounted the stage decked out in Illinois cheerleader outfits and jumping around with pom-poms in hand, it was to wild cheers and more enthusiasm than I’d ever seen at an indie rock show. I was just as eager. From the first note of the “50 States Song,” the band had us in their hands, and we were immediately ready to go along with whatever they might throw our way. The song’s mention of Kansas, Texas, Arkansas and Oklahoma earned much boisterous applause. Oklahoma had so many people whooping and hollering that I was taken aback and quite proud, really. It was especially striking, though, that Sufjan was able to make something that could have been so mechanically patriotic into something beautiful and sentimental and rousing. He did it by making it all about life instead of about states.
      It was impossible not to love the many clever cheers and jokes dispersed throughout the set; Sufjan and the band were having so much fun and were so amused by their own silliness. I had a good number of laughs at Sufjan’s antics, in particular. There was a great euphoria permeating the atmosphere all night, and whether we were cheering along for Jacksonville or swaying blissfully to one of Sufjan’s ballads, we were completely engrossed and completely content.
      And what a setlist! Multi-layered, upbeat songs like “The Tallest Man, the Broadest Shoulders” and “Jacksonville” gave way to heartbreakingly beautiful renditions of “The Predatory Wasp of the Palisades,” “Casimir Pulaski Day” and “John Wayne Gacy, Jr.” And though I hadn’t gotten my hopes up for older material, Sufjan also treated us to a gorgeous performance of “A Good Man is Hard to Find” from Seven Swans. After stretching and warming up with another cheer, the band jumped into “Decatur,” which was complemented nicely by a bit of percussive choreography. “Chicago” was stripped down but still anthemic. Sufjan showed off some virtuosic keyboard skills with his Rhodes playing on “They are Night Zombies!” And “The Man of Metropolis Steals Our Hearts” (as I recall) capped off the incredible performance.
      Sufjan’s voice sounded great, and the backing vocals and harmonies were spot-on. The stage held a ridiculous array of instruments, including acoustic and electric guitars, bass guitar, banjo, trumpet, trombone, melodica, Fender Rhodes, drums, xylophone and others. Just like Sufjan, the eight members of his backing band all are multi-instrumentalists and switched freely from one instrument to the next throughout the set. Just who were the Illinoisemakers on this particular night, you ask? James McAlister and Jeff Shoop of Tulsa’s own Ester Drang, John Ringhofer of Half-Handed Cloud, Sufjan backing band regulars Shara Worden and Katrina Kerns, Liz Janes, Craig Montoro of Volcano, I’m Still Excited!, and Bridgit DeCook. They were phenomenal.
      As the visibly exhausted band exited the stage, the entire crowd remained in place, applauding loudly and endlessly, stomping their feet and yelling for an encore. Some were more specific and yelled for something from Michigan. After a few minutes, a still very worn Sufjan took the stage once again wearing a Michigan shirt and carrying an acoustic guitar. The room hushed, and he took us through a soft and touching version of “Romulus.” He couldn’t have made a better choice. Our expectations having been met and surpassed, we left feeling fulfilled. Sufjan never disappoints.

      Welcome to my blog! I haven’t decided on a formal title yet. It might be “Sun Sun Sun,” or it might be something completely different. For some reason, however, I’ve decided I want the word “sun” to appear in the title somehow.
      Anyway, I’m Chris Skillern, a recent college graduate with a degree in journalism who, like many in similar situations, has decided he’s not fond of traditional journalism and would like to write about what interests him. What is it that interests me, you ask? Well, music, faith, culture and all kinds of other good things. I intend to post album reviews, show reviews, song reviews, news I find interesting, links to interesting articles and whatever else I deem appropriate.
      I’ve written music reviews and music-related articles for a number of print and online publications in the past, and I even once started an online zine of my own. It was a hassle to update, however, and the zine format is a little less open than a blog. I hope this endeavor lasts a little longer.
      Well, that’s me and my plan for this blog. Thanks for reading, and I hope you’ll come back when I’ve posted some actual content.