is a thread I started here at I Love Music. My favourite answers yet:

I suppose the last post was a joke.

Schon mein zweites Liwa-Konzert innerhalb von zehn Monaten. Am Samstag war es jedoch ganz anders als im Winter letzten Jahres als Liwa im Vorprogramm zu Low spielte, die er damals völlig maßlos und ganz unironisch als größte Band der Welt angekündigt hatte, wobei sie an dem Abend anfangs für zwei bis drei Lieder wirklich gigantisch waren.

Während Liwa mir damals ganz klein und schüchtern vorkam und seine Songs mehr zu sich selbst als zum teilweise quatschenden Publikum sang, hatte er diesmal eine Art Heimspiel. Zum einen spielte er in der sehr schönen, gediegenen Oetinger Villa, die in einem kleinen Park gelegen ist und in der er seit einiger Zeit, wenn immer er gerade in der Gegend ist (ca. einmal pro Jahr) auftritt. Gleich am Anfang sagte er, dass er die Villa kaum wiedererkennen würde im Vergleich zum letzten Mal. Es wäre alles so sauber und die Leute alle so ruhig und aufmerksam... Zum andern war Liwa hier der Topact und er trat wesentlich selbstbewusster auf als in Offenbach. Insgesamt spielte er ca. zwei Stunden und brachte viele interessante Zwischentexte mit Anekdoten wie der von der Harfinistin, deren Instrument nicht in den Tourbus passte.

Wobei ich einige von Liwas Statements lieber nicht gehört hätte, z.B. seine Ansicht, dass der 11.9. vor zwei Jahren das Werk des CIA war. Derartiges läuft bei mir unter krankhaftem Verfolgungswahn und Spinnertum. Obwohl ich zugeben muss, dass ich kurz nach den Angriffen Gedanken, die in die gleiche Richtung gingen, hatte. In der Zwischenzeit gab es aber keine neuen seriösen Indizien, die für eine inneramerikanische Verschwörung sprechen würden und die Idee als solche ist einfach zu monströs und widerstrebt meinem zugegeben durch Bush & Blair nur leicht angeschlagenen Urvertrauen in die westliche Zivilisation. Gegen Amerikanisches hat Liwa was, was auch seine Jagd auf Amerikanismen im Deutschen unterstrich. Amerikanische Musik hingegen ist für Liwa sehr wichtig, wobei die ihm neben dem Engländer Nick Drake teuersten Songwriter, Joni Mitchell und Neil Young zwar nicht aus den USA, sondern aus dem "besseren" Teil Nordamerikas, nämlich Kanada stammen, jedoch heute beide in Kalifornien wohnen (glaube ich jedenfalls).

Sehr gefallen an diesem Konzert hat mir die intime Atmosphäre, das fast schon andächtige recht junge Publikum (ca. 80 meist sitzende Studenten bzw. ehemalige), aber auch der hyperwache Liwa, der eine Diskussion zu einem Lied anfängt, nachdem vorher jemand nicht besonders laut "Lüge" gesagt hatte, als Liwa von der nicht in der Natur vorkommenden (dunkelblauen) Farbe der Straßenschilder gesungen hatte. Es stellt sich als ein Missverständnis raus. Die gelben Ortseingangsschilder sind eben keine Straßenschilder.

Liwa beendet das Konzert mit einem längeren Yoga-Kopfstand und fängt dann an seine CDs zu verkaufen. Und hier beginnt nun der unersprießliche Teil des Abends für mich.

Vorher ein Exkurs: Ich war mit der S-Bahn nach Darmstadt gekommen und hatte am Hbf feststellen müssen, dass die Oetinger Villa genau am anderen Ende von Darmstadt lag, mit flotten Schritten erreichte ich die Villa nach einer guten halben Stunde. Während des Konzerts, das kurz vor 10 angefangen hatte, zeichnete sich bereits ab, dass ich meine letzte S-Bahn kurz nach halb 12 verpassen würde. Ich nahm das jedoch in Kauf, da ich unbedingt mit Liwa sprechen wollte, um etwas rauszukriegen darüber, wie er zum (christlichen!?) Glauben gekommen ist.

Als er da im Halbdunkel so um die 10-12 verschiedene CDs vor sich ausbreitete und noch andere sich um ihn geschart hatten, fragte ich, ob er auch CDs seiner ehemaligen Band Flowerpornoes dabei hätte und er antwortete sofort schnippisch in dem Sinne, dass ich doch meine Augen aufmachen sollte, hier vor mir läge eine. Ich habe ... red' nicht von Straßen, nicht von Zügen von 1994 dann für 15 Euro gekauft (bei Amazon gerade für 6,66 € im Angebot und wirklich sehr empfehlenswert, besonders der erste Titel Herz aus Stein, den Liwa auch im Konzert spielte, ist wirklich ein Kleinod des Fingerpicking), war aber schon etwas irritiert, ob seiner Ungehaltenheit. Auch als ich nachfragte, warum er meinen absoluten Lieblingssong von ihm, Das Tal der Nackten Männer, eine langsam dahinfließende, wunderliche Odyssee durch seine Heimatstadt, das ach so profane Duisburg, nicht gespielt hatte, sagte er nur recht defensiv, dass diese Lokalballade die meisten Leute hier wenig interessieren würde und er sie live sowieso kaum spielen würde. Habe mich dann doch noch getraut, ihn zu fragen, ob er nachher an der Bar noch ein Bier mit mir trinken würde, was er sofort mit dem Satz "Ich trinke kein Bier" ausgeschlagen hat. Da war ich dann doch etwas baff, da ich mir ziemlich sicher war, dass Liwa kein Abstinenzler ist. Später sah ich ihn dann noch kurz an der Bar, aber er war beim besten Willen nicht dazu zu überreden, noch ein bisschen mit mir zu diskutieren. Somit hatte ich also meine S-Bahn verpasst und eine "lauschige" Spätseptembernacht am Darmstädter Hauptbahnhof vor mir und noch nicht mal die einzige "Mission", die ich mir für diesen Abend vorgenommen hatte, erfüllt.

Vorhin beim Nachdenken über dieses Nichtzusammentreffen kam mir, dass Liwas Unfreundlichkeit mir gegenüber vielleicht daran gelegen haben mag, dass ich als einer der einzigen während quasi des gesamten Konzerts stand. Und zwar am Tresen, ihm direkt gerade gegenüber, ca. 10 m weit weg, permanent an einer Pulle Pils nippend und an einer Lucky Strike genüsslich ziehend und Rauchschwaden erzeugend. Vielleicht war er ja gerade mal auf einem Enthaltsamkeitstrip und ich widerte ihn einfach nur an. Wer weiß. Irgendwie war das schon ein ziemlich frustrierender Abend.

So finally I didn't go to see REM in Wiesbaden with Blumfeld from Hamburg which used to be my fave German band about eight years ago as support. And I didn't regret it. What's the point of seeing a band you have loved ages ago which you still like but not as much as the first time you have heard them? And then you have to share them with thousands of people. Disappointment is programmed.

Instead I saw the Go-Betweens for the second time within three months and it was magic again. Not more than 300 spectators, we were five meters away from the stage. They just had arrived from Melbourne, the bass player had lost her bass on the airplane but had borrowed a bass from German friends. Everyone except Robert Forster wore sun glasses which they all took off when the night grew older. They played three or four songs from the last album but mainly classics. Even The Streets of Your Town. The sound was awesome, Grant McLennan sang as if it was his last day on the planet earth. They finished the set again with The House that Jack Kerouac Built and Robert did his crazy hands-dance thing again. It was perfect. A summer night in Germany as I like it. A rare thing of beauty, indeed.

P.S. I don't really know the Go-Betweens and when they were the indie guitar pop cult group in the 80s I never got into their music. It seemed bland and uninteresting at the time. The weird thing about yesterday's concert was that I knew most of the songs (probably from the previous concert) and that I had tears in my eyes when I heard them. There is something touching and intimate in their music I find very hard to nail down.

Robert Forster on stage is really weird. He has an aura. His facial expression can become very menacing. Suddenly in the middle of a song he opens his eyes wide, he frowns and seems to move towards the audience. I am not sure if he is acting. Maybe it is just a spleen.

Caroline from Amsterdam on the beginning of the European REM tour in Amsterdam. They will play in Wiesbaden on July, 19th and I will be there. A band I got into quite late and I never understood why critics always cherish their beginnings. They have become better with each album from my point of view. Reckoning was the dullest folk-rock I could ever imagine but the world hit Losing My Religion won me over. There are some romantic reasons for that, of course. No more details here, it is the past. But it still is haunting.

Leonard Cohen on his spring 1993 tour according to Various Positions. A Biography of Leonard Cohen by Ira B. Nadel, German edition, Berlin Verlag, page 335:

Attempt of an English retranslation by me:

I do not want to write about last night's Cat Power show at the Mousonturm. Just two or three sentences. It was the most pitiful, disgraceful and abominable concert I have ever seen in my life. Not really a concert, more a performance gone terribly wrong. Chan Marshall was totall drunk and certainly on other drugs as well. Her band left her alone on stage after maybe thirty minutes of very badly performed songs by her. Then she was talking drunkard's gibberish mixed with many insults to the audience and didn't manage to play one song on her own. I regretted not having taken a video camera to film her and to give her the tape as a present to show her her face this night.

Tonight chez Bernard Lenoir I listened to the dronerock band par excellence of the moment, the Dandy Warhols from Portland, OR on France Inter on the long waves, 165 KHz. Courtney Taylor's voice sounded like he had just been amputated of his larynx. So hoarse that it was hardly discernible. Very touching. "Heroine, it's my wife and it's my life" must be written on his forehead. I'll give him another five years if he goes on like that. It took about one song to get into the music. But then I was hooked. Mesmerizing repetitive guitar drones. No way to resist the descent into the maelstrom. The last time I was as excited about a similar kind of music was in 1991/92 when My Bloody Valentine had just released Loveless. Promise to myself: I should see them at Nuremburg the first week-end in June and I should probably not get their new album Welcome to the Monkey House (just listening to it, it is pretty pop and almost soul [which is a bad thing] compared to the concert). By the way the banana with the zipper is so Andy, Lou & Nico that it hurts.

Not a lot to say about this concert yesterday at the Mousonturm. Marie Frank, a Danish singer/songwriter opened for Howe. Very blue eyes, very blond hair, very charming smile and very irresistible voice. She was on her own with an acoustic guitar and voice-wise she reminded me a lot of Juliana Hatfield. In one song she sounded as innocent and natural as the early Dolores O'Riordan from the Cranberries. After a couple of songs Hans Anders joined her on electric guitar and lap steel. I really dug his understated and concentrated way of playing the guitars. The lap steel added the mystery feel. It sounded almost like a theremin.

Howe arrived with two more musicians from Aarhus, a drummer and a classic bass player who resembled Joey Burns (Howe's usual bassist in Giant Sand, now busy with Calexico) quite a lot. Marie and Hans Anders stayed most of the time so that there were five people on stage. Howe played his solid new album The Listener (audio) almost completely. He spent a lot of the time at the Steinway grand piano. Inside the grand there was a small monkey figure with a red electric guitar who seemed to move occasionally. Howe did his usual cd-deejaying. The overall feel of the music he played was quite jazzy, free-flowing. Altogether I found the bulk of the songs a little bit too slow and at the end I suddenly got the impression that Howe always does the same song. That had never happened to me before. I must have close to thirty records of his. The concert was still great but I was missing the outstanding tunes. The captivating intimate No Reply from my favourite Giant Sand album Chore of Enchantment was an exception. Someone in the audience had asked for it and it was interesting to see that Howe played the first minute or so on his worn acoustic guitar on his own as his Danish band apparently did not know the song well enough. But then Hans Anders on guitar and the bassist and the drummer joined in. A very good backing band. I also have to say that I prefer Howe with a band than on his own. Last year's concert on the Cover Magazine tour was a little bit disappointing as he did everything (piano, guitar, singing, deejaying etc.) on his own. The band sound is something very important for his music. I also had the impression that Howe was very happy to play with younger people (he must be around 45 I'd guess). Several times he referred to his fellow musicians as his home.

Before the concert I bought the excellent Italian live album Infiltration of Dreams of Giant Sand, a new Down Home 2002 release by Howe and the last remaining Chore of Enchantment T-shirt.

My first visit to the Mousonturm in Frankfurt-Nordend was a pleasure and it won't be the last considering that Howe Gelb, Evan Dando and Cat Power will play there soon. Everyone's favourite indie band from Hoboken, NJ was great as ever. It was the fourth time I saw them live. And they surprised me again by not only performing the rather slow and soft (but mostly perfect) songs from their last album Summer Sun but by mixing them with older, harder material. The tour for their previous album And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside-Out from 2000 had been a little bit of a disappointment as they had played the whole sleepy (albeit phantastic) album from beginning to end.

The support act was M. Ward of whom I only knew that he had released an album at Howe Gelb's label Ow Om Records. He reminded me of the two guitar heroes Ben Harper and Chris Whitley. His voice was pretty irritating and quite similar to Ben Harper's without the warmth. It took some time to get used to it. It was hoarse and high at the same time. He seemed to whisper. His play of the acoustic guitar was quite violent. The fingers of his his right hand looked like the fast moving tentacles of an octopussy when they hit the strings. Musically there were some folky influences but altogether M. Ward sounded original and unconventional. Though I must admit that I wasn't overwhelmed.

When Yo La Tengo came on stage one of their first songs was Today Is the Day. My fave of Summer Sun, sung by Georgia, which they deconstructed totally. It was pure noise and hardly recognizable. Another phantastic guitar-feedback song they played was Flying Lesson with the guitar loop looming in the background like a fire siren from 1995‘s noisy and catchy Electr-O-Pura which is probably still my favourite album of theirs. Season of the Shark was even better than on the new album. Ira started coughing when they tried playing it for the first time. A girl in the audience shouted Hanky Panky Nohow. And that was what they played after James had nodded to let Ira's voice recover. Georgia sang the John Cale classic standing in front. To my surprise the instrumental Georgia vs. Yo La Tengo was James playing the drums, Ira the keyboards and Georgia distorting on the synthesizer. Other songs were: Big Day Coming, False Alarm, Yellow Sarong, Sun Ra’s Nuclear War, their remix hit Autumn Sweater which was never a fave of mine. James and Georgia were drumming on that one. They played most songs of the new album except Let’s Be Still.

I was quite jealous when I saw that Ira got a seductive Weißbier for his first encore. I only had some shitty bottled beer. For the next song in the program a little joint would have been nice. Strange but for the first time at a YLT concert I did not smell any good stuff. Blue Line Swinger was like slow sex. It took Ira about ten minutes before playing the riff. His guitar was meandering around continents of noise no-one had ever been to. It was like as if he tried to withhold an orgasm. He was kneeling on the floor when mistreating his guitar. This song is still one of the most hypnotic in their repertoire. My ears were so numb after the song that I could not hear my own clapping anymore. The beautiful end was Stockholm Syndrome which had been proposed by someone in the audience. The song about the hostages sympathising with their captors. James sang on it.

Yo La Tengo play with the expectation of the listener. They destroy and deconstruct their own songs so that you can hardly recognize them anymore. I am sure they also do this as they have become bored to play the same versions of the same songs again and again. They are permanently reinventing themselves.

After the show I added another T-shirt to my Yo La Tengo T-shirt collection and I purchased the EP Merry Christmas from Yo La Tengo with three songs and a cartoon about a guinea pig and his Xmas present. The joke is that the guinea pig is Jewish.

P.S. Andreas war übrigens auch da. Und hat über das Konzert in seiner bewährt knappen und kondensierten Form geschrieben.

of their concert on December 07, 2002 at St. Ann’s Warehouse; Brooklyn, NY on the Wilco fan community with live recordings page (via ToT). Loose Fur is the supergroup by Jeff Tweedy, Jim O'Rourke and Wilco's drummer Glenn Kotche.

P.S. The Loose Fur show on the live recordings page has been replaced by a Wilco concert from 1999 (Jan., 15th 2003).