Days of our nights

Thursday we rejoiced, Friday morning we barfed, and still we smiled. Yes, it was the Weekly's 25th anniversary party, and we're tootin' our own caboose on this one because you could take away all the schmoozing and cake-eating and copious drinking, and there still remained one really, really good rock show. The triple-decker flurry of excitement inside I-Spy/Nation included DJs Dan Galluci, Kerri Harrop, and Paul Fontana, and live bands the Magic Magicians, the Gossip, and Built to Spill. Now we've all had more than our fair share of BTS lately—last summer they played so often that it seemed like they were the city's house band. While other generations had Jimi Hendrix and Neil Young, we have the sagacious, guitar-sawing Doug Martsch. On Thursday night, it seemed as if we had him all to ourselves in the basement of our parents' house. More laid back and cool than ever, the band mixed old favorites like "Twin Falls Idaho," some soon-to-be-classic new songs, and a take on the Halo Benders' "On a Tip." The Magic Magicians set up the Spill with skill, showing that a duo (764-HERO's John Atkins and Black Heart Procession's Joe Plummer) can kick out the jams just as well a fancy foursome, playing a set's worth of gorgeous AM-goes-indie numbers from their debut LP on Suicide Squeeze, Girls. In the middle slot, the Gossip flat-out killed, with vocalist Beth working her pipes to the max. . . . After taking full advantage of the Vegas buffet and 10-cent drinks at the Crocodile's 10-year anniversary party (it ain't really a party unless there's chicken on a stick), the Weekly skipped out to catch the Mekons. Everyone knows that the band is where old punks go to get older, but we were a little surprised to see one alt-country insider spewing a beer at John Langford last Tuesday night. The otherwise polite-seeming cowpunk got right up in Langford's grille

and let loose with a mouthful of Rolling Rock. How's that for Rock 'n' Roll? . . . Still wondering what all those hip-hugged hustlers were doing milling about outside Fallout Records on Saturday afternoon? They were there to see Charming Snakes and the Blow Up. Both bands rocked the densely packed space while friends and new fans draped over racks of Minor Threat records and cheeky 'zines. One bicycling onlooker commented that Charming Snakes, a two-plus piece consisting of guitars and a drum machine, were a wonderful throwback to a French pop band from the '70s, while others threw out Sonic Youth references. And sure, SY is an easy one, but add to that overused analogy the spike of the White Stripes and the stomp of the Wipers, and we've still left a little to your imagination. Next time they play, you'll just have to see for yourselves. . . . Concert news: The lineup for that local perennial, Summer Nights at the Pier, has a touch of Ballard this year (Steve Earle, Lucinda Williams) along with the regularly scheduled programming of 103.7-ness: Indigo Girls, Buena Vista, Lyle Lovett, and the more urban, Badu-esque Jill Scott. Gentlemen, start your Volvos. . . . Sigur Ros, Part II: If you thought you were keeping those publicity-shy pixies from the Land of Ice to yourself, think again. NYC guest list requests include a bid for Moby +4 (greedy little man) and The X-Files' Gillian Anderson. The band is out there. . . . And finally, we'd like to dedicate this column to all the new friends we've made in the Disco Biscuit community. In case you missed it, we made some barbed references in a preview last week to the jam-band fans' aversion to antiperspirants and gainful employment. Boy, were we wrong; it seems many of them have full-time jobs inundating uppity Biscuit-dissing journalists with creative hate mail. To be fair, we received several literate,

thoughtful letters. We'll share the other ones with you: "I'm writting [sic] in response to your ignorant and asinine words re: the Disco Biscuits. Ordinarily I wouldn't care what an ignorant hack submites [sic] to a weekly rag, but I'm fed up with stereotypical trype [sic] from 'journalists' like you who for some reason are given a forum to write about something they know nothing about and obviously did not take the time to find out." Or how about this glorious sign-off: "It must suck to be you. Kiss my moderate, clean, employed, nughuffing ass. P.S. I hope that responses like this to your column have taught you that Disco Biscuits fans are not a bunch of 'love everyone' hippies. We're as pissed-off and violent as the grunge scenesters of a decade ago in your fine city. So much for stereotypes." We'll spare you the other 1,012 words of that one and move on to: "i am a 34 year old drug councler [sic] in the new york new jersey area. i may not be a roclet [sic] scientist or a columnist at a second rate newspaper but i still find your article tastless [sic] and disrespectful to not only those from the disco biscuits community but all those who have given their lives in war to protect your freedom of speech. i personally use deoderant [sic] everyday in fact i even wair [sic] a tie, i am a active member of the republican party and never atend [sic] any concert under the influence of any narcotics." So, we stand corrected. In fact, we may just go to the show after all and spend some quality time with our new peeps.

Contributing this week: Laura Learmonth.

Send sightings, news flashes, and bitchy bits to nights@seattleweekly.com.

 
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