Springsteen's doing an episode of "VH1 Storytellers". I wasn't sure if the show existed anymore, and if they did, I thought it had sold out and people like Avril Lavigne and Ryan Cabrera were doing it. ("I wrote this song after I lost my favorite shell necklace. I think it fell off at an appearance at Sam's Club.") If you haven't heard it, listen to Springsteen's introduction to "The River" on his Live: 1975-85 where he talks about his relationship with his dad and almost getting sent to Vietnam. There shall be tears in your eyes afterwards, or you're a goddamn robot.

Via The Onion:

Nation Planning Surprise Party To Cheer Up Conor Oberst

OMAHA, NE—American citizens are coordinating efforts to lift the spirits of wünderkind singer-songwriter Conor Oberst, sources reported Monday. "I saw Conor's picture in a Spin article about Bright Eyes, and he just looked so down," said Lindsey Keisner of Youngstown, OH, one of the party's 4,000 planners. "The country feels really bad that he's going through such a rough spell, so next Friday, everyone who can should meet in Omaha with balloons, funny cards, and silly little gag gifts." Britt Daniel from Spoon will lure Oberst to Omaha by asking him to overdub some vocals.

I totally missed the One Tree Hill Tour, the idea of which is both brilliant and post-modern, when it came through town. The Washington Post caught it, but does not give it justice. Four thoughts:

1. Haley is so not the bad girl on OTH. Yes, she kissed a guy when she was married, but she's conflicted about it. There's a difference between bad and conflicted. God.

2. "Hilton, 21, also pleaded illness, and the sensitive offerings early in his set didn't grab the mainly pubescent female crowd. Hilton has been signed to play Elvis Presley in a feature film scheduled for fall release. That's why it's called 'acting'." Does this sentence make sense in any way? It's so ESL. I am so lost. (Much like Haley's husband Nathan after she left him to follow her dream. On tour. Which is this tour. Do you see how post-modern this is? Friggin' brilliant. I cannot stress this any more.)

3. Michelle Branch is pregnant? This blows my mind on so many levels. Is Stephan Jenkins¹ the dad? Now that would rock.

4. What is it about Ryan Adams' "When the Stars Go Blue" that has so enraptured mediocre artists? Am I missing something?

¹Stephan Jenkins being the lead singer of Third Eye Blind. Or as I call them, 3EB. He is "going out with" Vanessa Carlton, who sang "A Thousand Miles". Being interchangeable musically to some, it would be interesting if Mr. Jenkins believed Ms. Branch and Ms. Carlton to be interchangeable... sexually. I think that would be deliciously ironic. Or not. My grasp of the definition of "ironic" is Alanis Morrisette-esque. At the very least, it would be like a less-talented, grungier version of Dangerous Liaisons.

This week is to good free music as a Paris Hilton text message is to spelling errors. First Hot Hot Heat's album gets streamed, now it turns out the iTunes free download this week is Kathleen Edwards' "Back to Me". Plus, I finally got a free song under my Pepsi cap, ending a long losing streak. I'm back, baby!

You can stream Hot Hot Heat's Elevator for the next week over on MTV.com. So far? Not bad, kind of falls apart towards the end. We'll see how I feel after a few more listens. But it's still good, and it's going to sound even better coming out of car speakers on a warm spring day.

I tell you this, because as an artist, I think you'll understand: With all this talk about "Since U Been Gone", I have to admit it doesn't grab me like it does others. I think, at best, "Since U Been Gone" has allowed others to recognize their affection for certain pop trash and brought a nation of music listeners together. And for that, it must be saluted. It is the Lech Walesa of Top 40 radio. I see how someone might get hooked, but I haven't. It's too overproduced and I'm not a big fan of her voice. I feel out of the loop. And sometimes you're more apt to do things after a few glasses (or a bottle) of cheap wine than before, so I went online and downloaded my version of "Since U Been Gone": Michelle Branch's "Breathe". I wasn't even that into "Everywhere", which was her big supposed guilty pleasure song. It's just a big gloop of sonic velvetta, and I want to smother my nachos in it. So there it is, out there. And I feel better for having said it.

My friend Becker saw the Twilight Singers in the land of naps and sangria months ago, and I've been remiss in passing along his bit of Dulliania:

Greg Dulli’s Twilight Singers (as billed here) slew and the Spanish went crazy for it, screaming along to every Whigs’ song. I wrote a gushing fan review here at www.dullicious.com under News & Updates. Additionally, Dulli was sitting down at his piano to play an Outkast song, the crowd was silent and there wasn’t much banter all night from either side. I yelled out, “The Red Sox took it, you Motherfucker” (last time he’d been in Boston he just ripped on the sox all night). He turned around surprised and said, “Well yes you did. I even won some money on you guys. Never show your hand my friend. Never show your hand.”

"Devils and Dust" can be streamed on AOL music today, and should be available tomorrow on iTunes tomorrow. It's a great song, continuing in the tradition of The Rising, but a bit more intimate, more Tunnel of Love. I think Brendan O'Brien really does right by Bruce, bringing out the muscular quality of his music without pulling a Don Was and crapping up an older musician's production. (Although he does succumb to the "You know what this needs to make you sound modern? Drum loops" syndrome at times.) Thumbs up to AOL for doing this, but oh great goddamn is it annoying to hear a voice saying "AOL music first listen" breaking in every minute. It's even more annoying than the Jerry Maguire version of "Secret Garden".

Because they've broken up.

The most pressing question at concerts these days is not "Does looking like you're 15 make it alright to wear a backwards trucker hat" (A: no, and wearing it forward wouldn't help matters) or "Will you please shut the fuck up" (A: probably not), but "What does it mean if you wear a Joy Division t-shirt to an Interpol show?"

I really don't know. Are you showing that you were into Interpol before Interpol even existed? If so, bravo. This is brilliant. A sign of protest? If so, you spent a fair amount of money to voice your dispeasure. Last clean shirt in the wash? Hell, I wore a "Federal Bikini Inspector" shirt, so I feel your pain.

I like Interpol despite my hate of bands that ape their predecessors. And goddamn if Mr. Interpol Singer doesn't sound exactly like Ian Curtis on top of the Joy Division-level feel. It should drive me nuts, but after months of not liking Turn On The Bright Lights when it first came out, I loved it. It just got under my skin and I forgave them for all their sins. It was the sonic equivelant of the Stockholm Syndrome and I was their Patty Hearst.

But live... eh. Interpol was good, but it wasn't like they brought too much to the live setting. Maybe it wouldn help if I knew Antics better. All their stage presence came from their bassist, Crispin Glover. (Crispin Glover, who suppoesedly goes by a "stage name" also did an aftershow DJ set at DC9 afterward.) Beyond that, it was pretty much by the numbers and lacked surprises, besides an extra long false ending during "PDA". Don't get me wrong: it was good. It just wasn't so much different from sitting at home, drinking less expensive beer, and listening to your iPod. Shouldn't concerts be more? Shouldn't there be an energy in the air? Even with a packed house full of fans, the show never really soared.

Maybe they're not built to be amazing live. Their sound is all about control, almost the reining-in of emotion. Even the fast songs sound like the band is in complete control. Bands don't have to swerve off the road like early Replacements shows, but maybe there should an element of danger. And if there is complete control, shouldn't there be some sort of emotional, deep-down connection with the audience? The band dresses in crisp suits, and even on record they sound like they do. They're basically entrepeneurs, and they're selling us something. There's no need for true-blue emotion. Can they break from formula and look like they don't have complete control over their look, their songs, or us? Maybe they're afraid that if they do, we won't buy.

But good lord, Blonde Redhead. It was like Radiohead scoring a Japenese noir film. It was hypnotic, sexy, moody, mysterious. Perfect. It's the soundtrack to a doomed love affair, something involving guns and drugs and tragic choices. When the drummer from Interpol came out to play a second drum set during one song, culminating in a doubled-drum coda, it was probably the highlight of the night. Unfortunately, the highlight of the night shouldn't come during the opening act.

Entertainment Weekly recognizes the indie-rock respect for "Since U Been Gone" in an article about Kelly Clarkson:

Even hard-to-please rock snobs are embracing the anthem's addictive hook and tween mosh-pit vibe on their blogs. "I've now listened to this goddamned Kelly Clarkson song 41 times since last Wednesday," writes one convert; Mike Doughty of the defunct alt-rock quartet Soul Coughing recently called it one of his three top MP3s, and even indie-rock hero Ted Leo has recorded a much sought-after acoustic version that became a web phenom.

Informed of the hoopla, Clarkson responds: "What's a blog?"

Adorable.

On a side note: "alt-rock"? Do people still say "alt-rock"? Whenever I hear that phrase, all I can think about is Old School:

Mitch: So, what else have you got planned? Like a student band or somethin'?
Beanie: [sarcastic] Yeah. Yeah, that's it. I got a student alt-rock band comin' on stage next.

I'm officially trying to start "buzz." This is what we should be talking about, instead of "the culture of life" and vegetative states:

1. Since U Been Gone: Sweeping indie rock nation. Officially OK to like Kelly Clarkson, at least this once. The question now becomes, is she cute or not. Not passing judgment, I'm just passing this along.
1a. Ted Leo covering Since U Been Gone: This was the bread in the indie-rock crabcake: it cemented "Since U Been Gone" as OK to like. "Oh, you like that too? So do I." You'd think people were coming out of the closet.
2. Deltron 3030: I can't stop listening to it. Plus, someone burned it from me this week. There's a lot of resistance to 3030, and I don't know why. Are concept albums about futuristic rap battles anathema and I don't know?
3. Wilco's a ghost is born EP: The lack of buzz is the buzz. Ride that logic, Page Six.
4. The Steering Column Joke I Read Online: Pirate walks into a bar with a steering column in his pants. Bartender asks what a steering column is doing in his pants. Pirate says "Arrrr, I don't know, but it's drivin' me nuts!" Supposedly works with an Irishman, but what use does an Irishman have with a steering column, as he probably has a suspended license? (I can make these jokes because I'm Irish. Why can I make Mexican jokes, then? Because they are funny.)
5. Slint reunion: Again, deafening. Silence. D.C. does not care.
6. Mexican jokes: see above.
7. The American version of The Office: Will it suck? Will it rock? I think what people are missing here is a way to save "Arrested Development": take it off FOX, and have the BBC air it in England. This will guarantee NBC will try and make an "American" version.
8. The Concretes' Say Something New: Used in those Target ads, the song is like someone took all my preconceptions about Scandanavia and made it musical. Can I explain further? Nope.

Pitchfork don't like the new Weezer single.

When I lived in Boston, I used to shop at Newbury Comics all the time. The one on Newbury Street was possibly the most annoying one, with easily the highest hipster employee to customer ratio. That's where I finally bought Slint's Spiderland. One guy behind the counter said "Dude, you need to buy that on vinyl." And I said, "Dude, you need to shut the fuck up." Real loud. In my head.

So flash forward from then to last night, where I went to the Slint reunion show and once again, I had a great milkshake at Ben's Chili Bowl. It was creamy without being too thick, nice and chocolately. Really a dream. And those veggie chili cheese fries? Nothing better. Does anything beat Ben's after a few beers? Or even before a few beers? Isn't it better than jumbo slice? I could get fries and a shake every night, sit at the counter, and watch basketball. That would be dreamy.

Oh, and the show. The show really wasn't anything to write home about. They must have taken a full minute between each song to tune, which doesn't exactly seduce the sweet mistress momentum into bed with you. And no one seemed to care much for the stuff that wasn't off Spiderland. The songs from that album were moody and dynamic; everything else was just unrelentingly sludgy. It sounded like what going to high school in the '90s felt like, and after a while, that gets monotonous. I kept wanting to say "It sounds so heavy" but there's no way of saying that without sounding like an idiot. Like listening to Guided by Voices and saying "But their songs are so short" or saying Italians like spaghetti. Because they do. Such is the nature of the beast. But getting back on point, even I want to shake my ass at some point.

But that milkshake? Heaven. Highlight of the night.

Can you believe George Bush actually thinks that? No, no, no. I kid. I'm a big fan of The Boondocks, and they've had a good series of strips about the 50 Cent/The Game feud this week.

Columbia University is hosting An Evening of Talk on Bob Dylan on Monday. One of the panelists is Christopher Ricks, whom I actually met years ago during a summer program in Oxford when he was a professor at Boston University. He was giving a talk about Dylan Thomas, and gave a more informal lecture about Bob Dylan. During the lecture, he must have played "Not Dark Yet" two or three times, and each time he put his face in his hands, elbows on his knees while the song played. It was as if it was just too much. It was such an emotional response to the music, and that alone was impressive. Then I got drunk on sherry and made inappropriate comments about Joan Baez. Anyway, King of Dylan Nerds Greil Marcus is on the panel too. So if you're in NYC, this is probably a better way to spend your time than watching "Still Standing" in your chicken pot pie-stained sweatpants.

Sleater-Kinney and Pearl Jam teaming up on "Fortunate Son" shouldn't be this close to perfect, but good lord, it is. (They also do "Rocking in the Free World" but without as fantastic a result.)

The cover of new Springsteen album is unleashed.

In doing one of my many pointless searches of the internet to increase my knowledge of total bullshit, I stumbled upon this edition of Found Sound on Pitchfork.com, wherein someone gives props to one of the most underappreciated albums of the '90s, Hellbender's Con Limon.

The a ghost is born EP is available now. A quick review:

Panthers: Like a Ben's Chili Bowl milkshake, if milkshakes could be moody. Feels like an intellectual predator, all tension and cool calculation.
At Least That's What You Said (Live): The guitar solo alone makes me ashamed I missed them live. And I'm talking Catholic shame.
The Late Greats (Live): A lot better than it should be for what is basically a throwaway song. Again, the guitars alone... Nels Cline really earns his paycheck.
Handshake Drugs (Live): An amphetamine to the album version's barbituate.
Kicking Television: Shit sandwich. But one made by Tweedy.

Also, Jeff Tweedy's participating in a discussion about "file sharing, free culture, and the arts" at the New York Public Library on April 7. From the Wilco website:

Jeff Tweedy and Stanford Law School professor Lawrence Lessig will discuss their opinions regarding file sharing, free culture, and the arts. Lessig wrote the 2004 book Free Culture: How Big Media Uses Technology and the Law to Lock Down Culture and Control Creativity. Steven Johnson, author of Interface Culture: How New Technology Transforms the Way We Create and Communicate, will moderate the discussion. Tickets on sale Thursday, March 17 at 10 a.m via Smarttix.com. Additional Ticket info to follow.

The Washington Post has a story about "Pancake Mountain", a locally produced kids show that has featured performances from the Arcade Fire, Vic Chestnutt, and the Evens. This isn't exactly hot-off-the-presses news, but it's the hometown paper on the hometown show, and that counts for something.

RollingStone.com has a rundown of upcoming music biopics. I've been looking forward to that Johnny Cash movie for a while, and even Reese Witherspoon as June Carter can't make me want to see it any less. (What's the over/under in how many interviews she gives saying that the great thing about the part was that it allowed her to get back to her southern roots. Can't she just fly a confederate flag like everyone else?) What scares the hell out of me is the Gus Van Sant movie about Kurt Cobain's last days; that should be the feel-good movie of the year.

On a related note, I actually saw Ebert change his thumbs up to a thumbs down last night because of something Roeper said. And they actually showed a graphic of the thumb flipping over after he changed his mind. Did Siskel ever have this power over the Big E? It was just an incredible sight.

Last night at the 9:30 Club:

Hot Hot Heat look like they’ll steal your girlfriend, what with their fitted velvet jackets, smart shoes, and shaggy hair, but that doesn't mean I can't respect them for putting on a good show. I shouldn't like them so much, but I do; they don’t sound like they're trying to be another band (though one song they played that I didn’t know sounded way too close to “Respectable Street”, giving creedance to my friend Jason’s argument that they sound like XTC). I mean, I can hear pieces, but that's fair. Every band draws from influences. It's when you could label any song "The Wire Song" or "The Cars Song" or "The VU Song" that I start to dismiss a band. Anyway, their new stuff? A lot better than "Goodnight, Goodnight" would have you believe (but I'm warming up, slowly and surely). And it's actually hard not to dance to. Even I, cycnical and surly and Irish, moved a little bit, doing the mod shuffle with my hands in my pockets (I have to keep some of my dignity). Really, really good live band. And I think I'm convinced that "Bandages" is one of the best songs of the past few years. But watch them around your girlfriends. I'm telling ya, I don't like the looks in their eyes. Pure sex. Scared me.

Louis XIV was wasn't bad for a Bowie cover band, but I didn’t recognize the songs. Must have been deep, deep cuts. If only they had played “Panic in Detroit” or “Moonage Daydream”, I think I may have liked them a lot more. I'd say save your money and just buy Ziggy Stardust, especially that expanded remastered edition. Now that'll churn your sand into pearl.

Ben's Chili Bowl, on the other hand, makes a mean chocolate milkshake. At first, it's so thick it's impossible to get through the straw. But once it melts a bit, it's pure chocolatey goodness. Highly recommended.

An exchange where George asked the future fired apprentice why he didn't "push Fat Joe harder" in negotiations for a charity auction, which led to:

Trump: Do you even know who Fat Joe is?
George: No.
Trump: Moby?
George: Simon and Garfunkel!

Via unrequited narcissism, who stole it from someone else, comes a selection of Ted Leo acoustic performances, including the a cover of Ted's guilty pleasure, Kelly Clarkson's "Since U Been Gone" (with a touch of "Maps" thrown in, which is a classy touch).

"When I started this picture, Adam Shankman [the director] said, 'I am going to make you a promise, Vin: I am going to make them laugh, and I am going to make 'em cry. And in order to do that, you have to be committed to what, you know, whatever character type you're playing for this story to work'."

-Vin Diesel on the creative process behind The Pacifier.

From The Onion:

The Edge Still Introducing Self As Such

MALIBU, CA—U2 guitarist The Edge, born David Evans, introduces himself by his stage name, sources reported Monday. "He showed up at parent-teacher conferences, extended his hand, and said, 'Hi, I'm Sian's father The Edge,'" said Dory Beckman, a second-grade teacher at Malibu Heights Elementary. "I didn't quite understand, so he said, 'U2's The Edge.' Well, I guess with all the records he's sold, he's entitled to call himself whatever he wants." Employees at Gladstone's 4 Fish restaurant said Evans placed "The Edge" on their waiting list when he took his family out for fried scallops last week.

I like this, because I've devoted a lot of time to thinking if the guitarist from The Offspring still calls himself 'Noodles' when he's in his 40s. I guess I could use my time to volunteer somewhere, but no, I think about stuff like the guitarist from The Offspring.

"Uh... figuratively... maybe a little."

Finally heard Ryan Adams' "spoken word art project" (roll your cursor below the worm segment on your lower right. "Roll Your Cursor", by the way, is my new single. Lil' Jon produced. It's goddamn great). I'm definately coming down on the "fake" side of the argument, but it's still entertaining.

The new Weezer album has a name and a video, shot at the Playboy Mansion. And it took two Rolling Stone reporters to cover this story. Along the same lines, Korn's former guitarist is baptized in the river of Jordan (to see that ship comin' over...). Because we have enough crappy musicians; what this country needs is more nutty religious types. U.S.A! U.S.A!

GraceNote, which supplies the names of all the songs on your CDs when you burn them on your computer, keeps track of what you are listening to. Big Brother? On the internet? You are shitting me. I'm shocked, shocked to find that gambling is going on in here!

Why is Rolling Stone trying to shove Presidents of the United States of America ringtones down our throats? Is this what will finally fill the cellphone-shaped void in our soul that God and cocaine could not?

Random Girl: What is that ringtone?
Random Guy: Why, it's "Peaches" by The Presidents of the United States of America.
Random Girl: You are awesome. Let's have lots of the dirty sex.
Random Guy: Ah, my soul is full once more. "La la la la peaches... peaches peaches peaches..."

The Sports Guy on ESPN.com talks up the staying power of U2, and goes the whole column without a Shawshank or Vegas reference, and almost gets away clean before he name-drops Adam-freakin'-Carolla toward the end.

Pitchfork slums it in D.C. for the Teenbeat 20 anniversary shows.

A Swiss woman can "taste" music. Which means that Maroon 5 doesn't just sound like shit anymore, they can now taste like shit too. Zing!

A crappy Best Song performance and a shirt that will be used as evidence in a future stalking trial? Counting Crows guitarist Dan Vickery, Oscar night was your time to shine.

Bush's iPod, this time f'real, y'all! Lots of country, yee-ha, go figure. Plus, he's got Creedence on his playlist and good Lord, if he's got "Fortunate Son" shuffled in there, the irony would be so delicious I would spread it on a scone and enjoy it with my afternoon tea, I am not shitting you.

Being easily distracted from sports, ESPN has a poll up about the Hottest Female Musician. They did throw a bone to the ladies with the Hottest Male Musician poll, but obviously didn't put too much effort into it. For one thing, Jon Bon Jovi and Gavin Rossdale's names are misspelled.

ESPN Editor: Did you Google those guys to make sure we spelled their names right?
Copyeditor: I'm not gay!
ESPN Editor: Good enough.

But the best is that Mark McGrath is just referred to as "Sugar Ray," like he has no identity outside of his band. "Hey, Sugar Ray, your low-fat mocha latte is ready!" They made sure they knew the name of the girl from Black-Eyed Peas; they didn't call her "Black-Eyed Peas" or "Kirstie Alley's Skanky Sister." I mean, come on, Sugar Ray's got enough talent to be an entertainment reporter! Show some 'spect. Doesn't he deserve to be treated better than Hootie?

Tomorrow morning, iPod jukebox night will officially make it to the Oprah book clubbers, minivan drivers, and Us Weekly readers it was surely intended for when it gets profiled on Fox Morning News. So we've now reached that uncomfortable point, and I haven't even experienced it yet. So sad...

By way of Comsco's Tommy Mac, through The Nebraska Company, over the hills, through the woods, et. al. and etc.: Ryan Adams wackiness.

The real humor comes when you mouse-over the bottom worm and find a recording of a conversation between Ryan and the guys at his label...

The call documents a conversation regarding a possible fourth album Adams has apparently finished recording (of "like five or six" that Ryan envisions releasing this year). The label chair and head of marketing call to tell Adams that the record is terrible, and he seems to have trouble grasing that concept, instead working on the tract that he should release the records under a different name to get off that "whole thing" (apparently that "thing" being how people perceive his name). I see this phone call as one of two things: either it is a total fake, and Ryan is making fun of his current fly-by-idiot status, or the honchos at Ryan's label are just as willing to make fun of him as is the rest of the public. Whatever it is, check out the call. There's some beautifully quotable lines in there.

Granted, I can't find this magical "bottom worm," and it's making me crazy angry. I think Ryan Adams likes to paddle in the estuary where irony ends and stupidity begins (see "Tina Toledo's Street Walkin' Blues"), in a boat named "Political Comment," and I want to see it for myself. He's a step away from scrawling "Slave" on his cheek and performing "Gett Off" at the Grammys.

iTunes Alert! Ted Leo has an iTunes exclusive, the enigmatically titled Sharkbite Sessions:

1. Loyal to My Sorrowful Country
2. Six Months in a Leaky Boat
3. Suspect Device

The first two you can find in some semblence on the Tell Balgeary, Balgury Is Dead EP; the last song... I do not know. It's a Stiff Little Fingers cover, that's all I got (and full disclosure, I got that from an internet search, not some predisposed music-nerd knowledge). Or you can spend your free Pepsi/iTunes cash (or whatever you want to call it) on the exclusive Jack Johnson track from his new album, and use the money you save to buy some new sandals to wear with your jeans.

Happy birthday, Sienna Miller Fan! Here is your present. And here is your other present.

I just saw Paul Westerberg on "The Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson" and goddamn that was good. Sure, it was odd that Paul was wearing sunglasses, a Greek fisherman hat, a scarf, and a hood. And it was odd that his drummer looked like one of the Fat Boys was wearing green over-alls. But it was such a good performance, I'm thinking I want to see him live now. Too bad there's not a House of Blues in D.C.