big vibe

Hi. It’s me again. I told you updates were going to get more frequent! Here’s an exclusive Ernie for you lovely subscribers who have either stuck it out since 2020 or just signed up:

I have been squeezing medicated goop in his ear for a fungal infection, so he’s a greasy little goblin right now. He’s being a diva about it, but he’s fine. And disgusting. I just watched him dig around in his ear with his back foot and then lick his toes. Ugh.

Anyway, as of this month, New York’s proportion of vaccinated adults has surpassed 70%. Not that Cuomo has allowed that knowledge to escape you. We — meaning I, maybe you, and others like us in the NY Metro — have been revving our engines since May, but now the checkered flag has officially dropped, along with the final curfew and capacity restrictions on gigs as we know them.

I heard the starting gun loud and clear, but I’m not flooring the gas pedal just yet. I’m combing through calendar listings and waiting for my Goldilocks opportunity, a clear sign from my small-to-midsize city club pantheon: Bowery Ballroom, Mercury Lounge, Bowery Electric, Webster Hall, Rockwood, Arlene’s. The Foo Fighters at Madison Square Garden? Call me in 2022, but I’m not popping the proverbial champagne bottle with an arena show. I’m worried I’ll break out into hives or something.

It is both exhilarating and stupid, fussing over the ceremonial minutiae of my return to live music. I don't have some perfect, picturesque celebration in mind with fireworks and fanfare, or the expectation that these once-vacant rooms will pack themselves overnight. In fact, I'm kind of looking forward to something... understated? Private? I can't predict what I’m going to feel or how hard that’s going to hit, so maybe it’s best to start small, comfortable, quietly and uneventfully familiar. Sometimes, those are the evenings I miss most: the ones that started at 6:30 on a Wednesday, house lights still on, me with my coffee cup wandering leisurely into the calm before the storm. Going up or down a flight of stairs to come upon the opening act, still setting up their gear in front of an empty auditorium. Amen.

I just want that first gig to feel like coming home, and there are enough venues around here that fit the bill, regardless of who’s on it for the night. Maybe not the Garden, but I’ll know it when I see it.

In the interim, and perhaps going forward, I’d like to designate a space on this blog/newsletter for digging around the sandbox of recorded music. It’s not my favorite spot on the playground, but it is an important one, and it’s where I spend the most of my time. Below is a test run of a coda segment that I’m calling Five Under Five for now, because my self-imposed prompt and singular guideline was: “Write about five things I’m listening to, in five sentences or less.” It could be a single track, an EP, a full-length album, or even a playlist. It could be the latest smash, or ancient history. Anything goes! My first round of picks has a little of everything:

FIVE UNDER FIVE: JUNE 27, 2021

1. Seaway, Big Vibe, 2020. My hackles go up at the mention of “pop punk” and any so-called “emo” band that does not start with “Jimmy” and end with “World,” but Seaway gets my total and unhesitating endorsement. There’s more Butch Walker DNA here than any of the Fueled By Ramen graduates he’s had a hand in producing, and that’s exactly how I take my punchy and infectious guitar melodies, thank you very much. Big Vibe is the best of power pop retro-fetishism meets the post-Blink Millennium, and the result is a timeless, irresistible album from start to finish — all killer, no filler. Seaway released it last year during the depths of the pandemic, but I’m busting it out again, dusting it off, and nominating it for #1 feel-good hit of the summer.

2. Wolf Alice, “Smile,” 2021. The new album is fine, but this song is stellar. Ellie Rowsell has the voice of an angel, and she works it from both angles: winged maiden of oil paintings and church ceilings, and incomprehensible eldritch terror with a thousand all-seeing eyes. “Smile” has her switching effortlessly between ethereal grace and cosmic menace, over an anthemic groove that would make Muse green with envy. (Too bad they haven’t released a worthwhile single since “Madness.”)

3. Egyptian Blue, Collateral Damage, 2019. Say hello to my new favorite British band. When I was at my lowest during the fall of 2020, this EP offered a controlled release of all the pent-up anguish, confusion, and frustration that had been simmering away since March. Incubate, a little.

4. Ivory Wire, Notables & Nobodys, 2006. I do think The World Is Flat (2003) is the stronger album (by a hair), but this one has been in regular headphone rotation as I re-enter the world of the train commute, and it has grown on me big time. Forgotten alt-rock underdogs are my bread and butter, as you know, and Ivory Wire are my latest group of notable nobodies, rising from the ashes of Chicago’s short-lived Dovetail Joint and burning out almost as quickly. Had I discovered Michael Gladfelter & co. at age 16, I would have been obsessed and indignant: how the fuck does no one know or care who these guys are? At 32, my affections are tempered by a winking, wistful self-awareness. It stings a bit, realizing just how much of your taste resides terminally behind the curve, kind of like listening to “Young Again” and realizing the song may as well be about you. Lucky for me, I’ve learned to love laughing at my own expense.

5. POP ROCK SUMMER. I do all my playlists in capslock, don’t you? (It helps me remember the ones I make vs. the ones I follow. MAYBE I ALSO ENJOY YELLING.) This one gets added to incrementally year by year, but its backbone remains the same. My idea of pure Vitamin D in four chords and a backbeat.

See you again soon,

Bux