I have two more must see bands to add to my Bunbury agenda. I love seeing live music. Descriptions of this love don’t fit in my less than skilled command of the English language, but these song lyrics by Bronze Radio Return come close to capturing it. I am super excited to see these guys in July.
Tag Archives: Cincinnati
The Black Owls and The Sundresses Rocked my Socks Off
This weekend was full of live music. After Sidewalk Chalk and The Almighty Get Down on Friday, I headed back to Motr for The Black Owls and The Sundresses. I’ve seen both these bands before. They play regularly around Cincinnati given that they are both Ohio bands with The Sundresses based in Cincinnati.
I digress. I’ve been listening to my 2014 Bunbury playlist for the last few weeks. Every time Fall Out Boy comes on (which seems to happen with disproportionate frequency), I am fumbling for the skip button. That very thing just happened. Perhaps it’s time I just purchased some of my favorites to get away from this abusive Spotify relationship with Fall Out Boy. That’s settled. I will make up for missing record store day with a trip to buy a bunch of my favorite bands’ records at Shake It.
Back to the topic at hand, The Black Owls came prepared mic swinging and all. They sounded really great on the new sound system at Motr. I am still marveling at how much better the sound is in there. I could understand most of the lyrics, which is a feat at most live shows let alone ones with so much crunchy guitar sounds. Mic swinging might have caused a bit of a microphone crisis, but all was handled gracefully.
The Sundresses added a drummer a couple of years ago. I feel like this really added some punch to their live shows. The past arrangement was that Jeremy and Brad would alternate on percussion duty. That inevitably meant a bit of a lull between songs. Granted they situated themselves damn fast, but still. The addition of a drummer lets them pound though one song leaving barely time to catch your breath before the next tears out. It’s gratifying.
And gratifying it was. They sounded really great. The only hiccup was with one of the mics delivering at random intervals a shock to Jeremy’s mouth. I don’t know what that would feel like, but by the looks of it, it was quite painful. This situation was tolerated until the end of the show, which is more than what I would have endured had I been getting zapped in the mouth.
Cincinnati, you are getting out of control with all the local music. This weekend is looking like more of the same… I can’t wait.
James Brown Would be Proud: The Almight Get Down and Sidewalk Chalk
Spring has arrived. Unlike most other northern cities, Cincinnatians hide away in the winter. The first whispers of spring brings everyone out of their hibernation. People turn up to the places they will be from once again.
This was the context for the show last night. The Almighty Get Down opened for Sidewalk Chalk. I knew what I was in for with Sidewalk Chalk. I saw them at Midpoint Music Festival last year. They got a bit of an unfortunate time slot, at 5pm before many of the festival goers were out and about. They sounded great, so when I saw them slated to return to the Queen City, I made note.
I wasn’t disappointed. They sounded stellar and just as tight as I remembered. I admit that I often don’t like hip hop. The lyrics are lacking, and some producer has just nicked hooks from other musicians and packaged them up in predictable ways. But this. This is something else. It’s melodic and thoughtful. There’s a reference to To Kill a Mocking Bird in this song. In the words of Capital Cities, it’s good shit.
The surprise was The Almighty Get Down. They tore down the house with funk that James Brown would approve of. Really fantastic show. Their stage presence coupled with their tight sound just rolled over the audience in shimmering waves. It’s as though they brought all their energy to bear on this one tiny stage in OTR for just an hour or so. Really, that show was just fantastic to watch.
It was a great night for live music. It was a great night for photography. It was a great night.

The weather was splendid. Everyone was out. The patio outside was just as packed as this bar room. Even the basement had full tables.
Bunbury 2014: Must See Bands Cults and Holy Ghost!
I’ll admit it. I considered trying to sell my VIP Bunbury passes once the headliners were announced. With Forecastle snagging Beck, Outkast, The Replacements, and Jack White as headliners, that line-up is more appealing as far as headliners go. When I dig a little deeper in the Forecastle line-up there’s other gems like Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings and Band of Horses. Regarding Bunbury’s headliners, I’m not terribly excited about Empire of the Sun or The Flaming Lips, and I dislike Fall Out Boy and Paramore. Bunbury’s second tier acts are typically my thing, and there are some bright spots there for sure. Kishi Bashi, Wild Cub, Fitz and the Tantrums are all solid. While Young the Giant and Foxy Shazaam aren’t in my wheelhouse my past experiences at their shows prove that their performances will be excellent.
Line-ups aside, there’s the pricing difference. Forecastle VIP passes are about 500 bucks each. Because I bought my Bunbury VIP passes so early, I paid 295 for each of them. The question that I have to ask myself is thus, Do I want to see Beck, The Replacements, Outkast, and Jack White enough to sell my tickets to Bunbury and fork over an additional 400 bucks for a couple of Forecastle VIP passes? I will need to factor in money to stay in Louisville, so that will probably drive the additional cost up to 700 bucks.
This is the context in which I started listening to the second and third tier bands in the Bunbury line-up. I spent a couple of weeks listening to this handy Spotify playlist. And all I can say is wow. The second and third tier stuff is great. In the interests of keeping this post to a manageable length I’m only going to talk about a couple of my finds. But, I’ve found enough good stuff that my Bunbury agenda is already packed. Needless to say, there is no way I am selling my passes. Here’s a couple of my favorites.
What happens when you combine 60’s pop sensibility with Best Coast and a sense of ominous darkness? You get Cults. I know I shouldn’t have been surprised that their video boasts footage of Jim Jones. But I was. It’s such a sunny sounding song against such a dark event. Given that I have a sweet tooth for cathartic art and music, of course I love it. I’ve listened to both of their releases, and I am excited to see them at Bunbury.
I don’t know if I’ve mentioned my love of 80’s pop in the blog before. Let it be known that when “Africa” by Toto comes on my car stereo I am that lunatic enthusiastically singing along with the harmonies; 80’s pop is my cat nip. This admission will actually explain a number of my Bunbury favs. Given that I lived through the 90’s when indie rock was all guitar and little melody, and NEVER keyboards, I can tell you how happy I am that melody and the love of synth is back in new music. This brings me to Holy Ghost!. Seriously, I will take roughly 10 seconds of this video before my love of this band will be explained. Oh 80’s influence, I welcome you back. And clearly so does Holy Ghost!.
Whiskey Gentry and Flirty McDrunkerson
I saw a great band yesterday. I had random encounters with strangers. I discovered I can go back to MOTR without perforating my eardrums. It’s all here.
I’ve been confused for someone else at least six times in the last eighteen months. I know who my doppelganger is. She bartends at The Lackman. Strangers approach me, and after a short awkward exchange, ask if I work at The Lackman. At my negative response, the stranger suddenly understands why I was looking at them blankly while he/she was greeting me as a friend. I do bear a slight resemblance to this woman. We have big blue eyes and sandy brown hair. That’s where the similarities end. I have a few inches on her; she has a few years on me. Our hair styles are considerably different. There is one other commonality, that I think is at the root of most people’s confusion. We are both obvious lesbians.
I ran into her yesterday having drink, and decided to have a chat with my not-so-much double. When I relayed my experiences, she laughed and said she experiences similar things. Lesbian confusion. I’m pretty sure it’s a thing, and it’s happening to me. At least my doppelganger is pleasant. A really great conversation ensued, clearly, since I was talking to myself.
After a stellar chicken sandwich at The Eagle, I headed to MOTR to see Whiskey Gentry. I haven’t been to MOTR in a few months. While I love that they book great music seven days a week, the volume in there is at a 12,345 of 10. The noise level is high enough that my ears feel raped with ear plugs in. There is zero possibility of speaking to any human unless you want to shout centimeters away from their ear, and even then you will need to repeat yourself several times. Since it already feels like years of your hearing are vanishing by the minute, I usually resort to texting the person I am standing next to.
Last night, I had a most welcome surprise. MOTR got a new sound system. They got new lights. AND PRAISE BE TO THE GODS OF THE CILIA OF MY INNER EAR, the volume was at a reasonable level. It was loud, but not intolerably so. I was thrilled to discover this as Whiskey Gentry did their sound check.
I wanted to see these guys at Midpoint this fall, but they cancelled the day of their show. See blog post about that here. I would call them folk or alt country. There’s a little 50’s country, bluegrass, and folk in there. And unlike pop country, their lyrics are about more than trucks, tractors and women. Plus, there’s pedal steel, the fiddle, and banjo in their recordings. I’m a sucker for some pleasant banjo. The lead vocalist has a warm buttery voice; weirdness aside, I want her to sing me lullabies. Check ’em out.
They were worth the wait. The vocalist sounded spectacular. I was disappointed that the banjo player wasn’t out with them. It gave their performance a little more of a rock edge. Apart from this tiny bummer, they sounded tight. The guitarist and fiddler were full of energy, while the vocalist had a cool reserve. It created an interesting dynamic. The cool collected woman at the center of a couple of guys nearly off the rails.
Between the pleasant sound level, the great performance, and the excellent people watching, I had a super night. My partner wasn’t feeling well, so she took a pass on seeing the show. I like going out by myself. I enjoy keeping to my thoughts in a crowd. However, I’ve noticed that strangers, especially drunk strangers, like to talk to me. This rarely happens when I am out with friends, but when I’m alone I am often approached. Last night was no exception.
I sat outside after the show to enjoy a rare smoke. A pretty young woman teetered out of the bar and headed my way. She had hipster glasses and skinny jeans, coupled with a spectacularly ugly 80’s hand bag. She tilted her head, slow smiled and asked, “are you lonely?” It was cute. But I am taken, and I was thinking of how to respond politely to Flirty McDrunkerson while still communicating my lack of interest. I settled on, “actually, no, but you are welcome to join me.” That seemed to do the trick. We chatted a bit, before I headed inside.
I ordered one more beer and closed out my tab. After scanning the bar, I found a seat open in the corner where I could relax, and watch the drunken mess that was forming. Quiet time lasted exactly three minutes. A woman approached, and I was relieved when I realized her friends were sitting just ahead of me. After a few seconds of chatting with them, she abruptly turned to me and talked as though we had just left off a few minutes before. I got over my annoyance quickly, because this woman knows her local music. We had a great talk about the Bunbury line-up. Turns out she knows the person responsible for booking, and we debated the merits of this years line-up vs past line-ups. Our thirty minute talk was nice, but it earned me a stink-eye from her boyfriend. It probably didn’t help that she failed to noticed he called her 3 times while we were yammering on and on about Kishi Bashi and X Ambassadors. Hopefully, that didn’t result in too much discord.
So that was my day. I saw great music. I had random conversations with strangers. I took some pictures. It was a wonderful 18 hours.
The Place I Call Home
NOTE: Readers who aren’t familiar with Cincinnati. This blog is going to be about the neighborhood that I’ve spent the most time in. The neighborhood is called Over the Rhine, or OTR for short. It is just north of the downtown business district. It was blighted for the first 10 years that I lived here. There has been a renaissance in the last 8 years. It has the largest collection of intact 19th century urban architecture in the country. It was allowed to rot from 1970’s until just 8 years ago. For more on this neighborhood and current events read this: https://allthenamesaretakensothisisreallyreallylong.wordpress.com/2013/11/13/a-streetcar-named-wtf/
I lived in Over the Rhine when it was blighted. I lived there when the streets were lined with boarded-up buildings. I lived on the corner of 13th and Jackson 2003-2005. Here’s what isn’t obvious about that place in that time. There was a real community there. The people who chose this place as their home were grounded and real. While they were unconventional makers and builders. They were artists, musicians, entrepreneurs, and chefs. There’s something that makes all posturing and pretense melt away when, the only thing that’s standing between you and a random act of violence is the vigilance of the people who live on your street.
Many things have changed since 2005. Most notably, OTR has been gentrified and is considerably more expensive to live in. The crappy corner bar with 2 dollar Jim Beams has been replaced with a craft beer bar with drinks at 10 dollars each. Rentals have given way to condos. Condos start at $250,000 for a very small two bedroom without parking. My 1200 sqft 2 story loft with 1.5 baths was a mere $650 a month in 2005. I’m sure that rent as at least doubled.
These changes have brought much-needed money to the neighborhood to spur development. And for the most part, I am happy for it. Although, these changes have by their nature changed my neighborhood. I don’t say hi to the drug dealers anymore. Instead I see lots of runners; a rarity in the past. The bars and eateries that I used to walk into and sit immediately are often on a 2 hour wait. But I’ve been wondering, how much has the community changed? Are there still great artists, makers, and bartenders living there?
I got my answer on Friday. Cincinnati shuts down in snow storms. Friday was no exception. Since I live within walking distance, I headed to OTR. I knew that the bars would be filled with locals, or people who could walk to their destinations. Suburbanites in Cincinnati would not leave their homes in this kind of weather.
I headed to The Drinkery. When I walked in, the nine strangers at the bar cheered and gave me high-fives. Apparently, people who go out in that weather appreciate others who do the same. My friend texted and let me know that she was across the street at Cincy by the Slice. Since they were pretty slow, we bonded with the staff over bad dating website pictures. One of the pictures features a recorder, a box of wine, a fire on a laptop screen, no shirt, and an animal skin rug; this picture is magnificently bad.
We headed outside into a snowball fight. This was cut short by the fact that our primary opponent lacked gloves. In The Drinkery, we found that the bartenders were well lubricated and chatty. At some point, we found ourselves outside with a bartender singing James Brown with Kevin the Poet. See the video below for an understanding of who Kevin the poet is.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5JyG1z8pvfM
After too many dollar Ancient Ancient Ages, we headed to Japps. It was at this location that I saw twerking for the first time. It just so happened that an Asian man jumped out of the DJ box and lead my friend to the dance floor. A few moments later, this man was twerking so aggressively on my friend that she nearly fell over. I can’t express how pleased I am that, my first twerking experience was with a gay man going for a ridiculous score of 11 out of 10.
After some less than graceful dancing (note: that is only in reference to my rhythmically challenged ass and not my friend’s), we needed some pizza to soak up the booze. We returned to Cincy by the Slice and ordered a pepperoni pizza. In the short time that we waited for pizza, we were joined by 6 or so people. They missed the cutoff for pizza, so we shared ours. Then we had a dance party with the staff at Cincy by the Slice to Missy Elliot.
This night was so fun. This night was filled with lots of great people. There weren’t any weird come-ons. There weren’t any douche bags. It has convinced me that the people who choose to live in OTR are still fantastic. The rents have gone up. The booze is more expensive, but the people who choose to call that place home? They are exactly as awesome as they were a decade ago.
A Streetcar Named WTF

This was the view of 13th Street from my OTR loft. It was, with out question, the best place I have ever lived.
If you are familiar with Cincinnati politics, you know that a streetcar line is under contruction. You probably also know that voters voted for the streetcar twice. On November 5th in a mid-term election with low voter turn-out, the city elected a mayor whose platform was to stop the streetcar. The city elected a city council majority that does not support the streetcar.
I’m going to talk about being a progressive voter in a conservative town, and why my future city will be determined by the fate of this project. I will not debate the merits of the streetcar project. If you want to get a firm understanding of why I think the project should move forward, have a look at these two blogs. They do a good job of capturing the reasons that I am solidly behind completing the project.
Here’s an article describing some of the details around the streetcar project.
Here’s an article describing Cincinnati’s mixed history with progress.
I moved to Cincinnati in 1994. I came to attend the University of Cincinnati. Cincinnati was a big change from Canton. Everything you need to know about Canton can be communicated by saying that it was on the Forbes 10 worst cities list in 2011, I believe. Job opportunites are slim, and city ammenities are slimmer especially for someone who values biking and walking as much as I do. If you can’t get enough strip malls and Applebees Canton is the place for you.
Although Cincinnati is notoriously conservative it was still progressive as compared to Canton. I experienced many firsts here. I went from a driver to a walker/biker. I met people with religious backgrounds that were different from my own. I met openly gay people for the first time. I lived in mixed-income and mixed ethnicity neighborhoods. I tried Indian food for the first time, and promptly fell in love. And specifically in Over the Rhine, I saw my first drug deal, my first hooker and my first historic urban neighborhood.
My friends and I piled in the car to head to a Red’s game. White people from the suburbs openly gawk or are visibly anxious in troubled neighborhoods. While I was unaware of my own gawking on this particular day, I have seen many people do it in the intervening years that I’ve lived in troubled urban neighborhoods. We were in the car mouths gaping, when a hooker walking the crosswalk in front of us flashed us. Naive is an appropriate word to describe my state then, because it dawned on me that this woman probably didn’t lounge around in those heels and that dress for fun. I don’t know what I thought a real prostitute would look like, but I do know she had less teeth than what I was expecting.
It was in this unlikely moment that I fell in love with Over the Rhine. Maybe my experience as a closeted gay teen in the suburbs made me love that the people in OTR wore their problems on their sleeves. Things that happened behind closed doors in the suburbs, happened on the street there. I loved the honesty of it. On top of that, the buildings, the boarded up rotting buildings were among the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. The brick and mortar felt alive with history. They were eyeless, toothless sentries breathing with human triumphs and disasters of more than a century.
From that point forward, I regularly lived in Over the Rhine or near it. I could describe the vibrant community that’s been there for all of my 18 years here. I could tell the story of how the city made wrong turn after wrong turn in shining that blemished jewel. But that would take numerous blog posts. So, skipping much, the current iteration of OTR is a mixed-income, mixed ethnicity neighborhood. In addition to all that development money that was poured into rehabbing the stunning buildings, the city has added numerous bike lanes and has made improvements in the city bus system.
This brings me to the streetcar. Should the mayor kill this project, it is almost certain that a big transportation project won’t be attempted here for at least a decade. So, the question that I am left asking myself is do I want to be 50 and getting the public transportation that I want out of my city?
Because there’s another layer to this question. It’s not just that Cincinnati is lacking transportation, and the republican state legislature seems to only want investment dollars in highways, but Ohio has a defense of marriage amendment in its constitution. Practically, this means gay marriage won’t be legal here for another 6 years at the very soonest. And assuming this divisive issue fails to pass at least once that 6 years becomes 10. So that question, do I want to wait until I am 50 to have my family and transportation in Cincinnati when I could move and have those things now?
I’ve traveled enough to know that it’s unlikely I will find a neighborhood that I love as much as OTR. OTR is the largest, most intact urban historic district in the United States, making the area unique. I stayed to contribute to the neighborhood. I stayed to contribute to the city. Things have changed, they’ve changed so much that with or without the streetcar I think OTR will continue to grow. And this is great, but it also means that I don’t need to stay here anymore. It means that I can go to what I want. I’m ready.
Here’s a link to our work cleaning out the lagering tunnels to make room for tour groups. This particular effort was about clearing out the basement of the Guildhaus on Vine.
A Break from Books: Bunbury Music Festival in Review
I’m taking a break from books for this post. Bunbury happened a little over a week ago. I went. I had the most rock and roll experience in recent memory. Here’s what happened.
I live within walking distance of the park in which Bunbury takes place. I have been to other music festivals, Lollapalooza and multiple Warped Tours. I jumped at the chance to attend a festival that wouldn’t require travel and lodging, even with a line-up that wasn’t wholly in line with my tastes.
Bunbury distinguished itself from other fests by supplying free water and misting stations as well as abundant beer booths-including craft beers, local food vendors, shady napping spots, porta johns, and cell charging stations. In addition, the organizers had the forethought to issue color coaded wrist bands that indicated both what type of pass you purchased, but also your over/under 21 status, allowing you to leave your id at home once you’ve picked up your wrist band.
Bunbury 2012 was so enjoyable that I purchased VIP tickets for Bunbury 2013 without a single band announced and zero information on the VIP amenities. The VIP three day pass was $295 as opposed to $90 for the standard three day pass, so it felt like a risky decision at the time. I was not disappointed.
Before I get into the specifics of the shows, the VIP tickets were well worth it. First, there was a generous area sectioned off in front of the main stage, enabling me to walk to the front of any of the headliner shows. In addition, there were intimate shows in the air-conditioned VIP tent, after which the band members chatted, took photos, and signed autographs. The drink specials in the VIP tent included dollar water and sodas, 2 dollar beers and malt beverages, and 3 dollar wine and mixed drinks as well as free Street Pops (yum!) and free food around dinner time. Considering beers outside the VIP tent were 6 or 7 dollars, I estimate that the VIP tix saved me 100 or 150 dollars in food and drink for the weekend. To top it all off, the musicans cycled in and out of the VIP area, Brent Dressner from The National for example. This is where I ran into one of the guys from CAKE, who complemented by tattoo. Oh, and Peeta from the Hunger Games movies was back there.
Now then, these are the bands that I saw, followed by my abbreviated highlights and, in some cases, lowlights.
Friday: The Features, American Authors, Delta Rae, Tegan and Sara, Sky Ferreira, Walk the Moon, DeVotchKa, fun.
My thoughts: stand out shows were Walk the Moon for being adorably proud to be playing to their home town and DeVotchKa for being one of the best performance bands ever. Random discovery: Tegan and Sara are tiny women. If there was such a thing as pocket lesbians, they would be it.
Saturday: Margaret Darling, Vacationer, Bears of Blue River, Taylor Alexander, Chairlift, Twenty One Pilots, Black Owls, We Are Scientists, CAKE, Atlas Genius, MGMT
My thoughts: Atlas Genius sounded excellent. Their show sounded almost exactly like their record; not a single note was missed plus loads of energy. Without question I will be getting tickets to see them when they come back in the fall. The Black Owls and CAKE sounded incredible. The guys in those bands appeared to be in their 40’s or 50’s and have the confidence and skills of seasoned professionals. Bears of Blue River get the award for sounding awful. They were a sloppy, out-of-tune mess. MGMT gets the award for being insufferable pricks for refusing to play “Kids”. Only Radiohead can get away with that crap.
Sunday: A Silent Film, Camera Obscura, Belle and Sebastian, Yo La Tengo, The National
My thoughts: A Silent Film was a wonderful surprise. They were great to watch and sounded like a pleasing combination of U2, “Where The Streets Have No Name” era, and Coldplay divided by Keane. Belle and Sebastian had adorable banter with the crowd. Yo La Tengo redeemed themselves for the abysmal performance they delivered the last time I saw them. Finally, The National melted my face off with rock and roll. Matt Berninger jumped off the stage for “Mr. November” and wandered through the crowd, all the while people patiently passed the microphone cord between them to enable Matt’s wandering. He walked right past me on his way back up to the stage. I have never seen a crowd simultaneously keyed-up and controlled. I was able to solve a longstanding mystery. How can he perform in a vest and button down shirt without melting? The answer is he sweats though all his layers of clothing. They finished with “Terrible Love” Matt wandered back into the crowd to dole out set lists, his half-finished bottle of wine, and improbably his microphone stand. I am curious to know who made it out of the gates with that last item.
Over-all, Bunbury was great. I was truly sad when it was over. I can’t wait until next year.



























