$3 Berlin Trilogy

Yeah, at this point, it's probably free to most of you. But I'm very happy with my $3 Berlin Trilogy. ("Amoeba, my dear, we'll always have Berlin.")

And, of course, it's buy three red-tag dollar-bin records, get one free!

20 minutes

It was all too appropriate that the first episode of Ken Burns' The War was aired roughly forty minutes after 60 Minutes's interview with Mahmoud Ahmadinejad ended. Burns titled his first episode "A Necessary War"; the interview pointed another way.

War with Iran is unimaginable at the moment. Taking on a bigger country, with our military resources stretched as thin as they are, seems like a very large second step toward our nation spending itself into irrelevance, largely in the name of securing our wealth and dominance. That said, as I watched Ahmadinejad last night, I thought of my dad's remarks from a couple of years ago: "They finally found a world leader who's dumber than Bush."

What I saw, between his weird smiles and circumlocution/ equivocation, was a world leader awkwardly trying to insert himself between the American Left and American Right, playing to Bush-haters inside and outside the U.S. Instead, Ahmadinejad proved that he hasn't got a clue what we're all about. (Bin Laden does this too: sometimes, among his 14th-century revenge fantasies, he tries to say something that parrots left-wing American criticism of Bush, but comes off sounding like a bloodthirsty fringe-nutball anyway.) I was still somewhat surprised at the hostility of the interviewer's very first question about the Ground Zero request ("What were you thinking?"), and found it unfortunate that the interviewer did not ask him directly whether he really does want Israel wiped off the map. If Ahmadinejad wanted to win any sympathy from liberal Americans, he blew his chance last night. Instead, he came off as a clown. Fortunately, most of Iran thinks he's one too. (Sound familiar?)

No, I'm not part of the "neoconservative push for war". I'm just remembering what I'm for, and what I'm against. [As for Burns, I'll be watching as much as I can this week.]

Show night: New Pornographers/Lavender Diamond

My regular publisher seems to be napping, so I'm posting this here until it appears there.

*

The current New Pornographers tour offers a rare opportunity to witness the Canadian guitar-pop group as most fans would like to see them – in its full eight-piece lineup, with often-scarce members Neko Case and Dan Bejar on board. Monday night's show in San Francisco was the fifth in a sortie that will loop through the U.S. and Canada over the next 48 days. I spent the evening just beyond the monitors at stage right of the Warfield Theatre, with a close-up view of a band acting like they were on vacation together rather than slaving it out night after night.

Out skipped Becky Stark, the singer and apparent auteur of Lavender Diamond, to open the show shortly before 9:00. (I missed what must have been a brief set by Fancey, the band fronted by New Porns guitarist Todd Fancey.) Her band, working with a piano, acoustic guitar and a couple of drums, was trancelike and buoyant, as Stark sang of open hearts and springtime in a clear, striking soprano. In between her airy open-throttle peaks and strangely subversive asides, Stark cultivated an impossibly ingenuous persona, apparently obsessed with smiles and sunshine. Truth is, there's no shortage of despair weighing on her gossamer wings; it just takes awhile to make itself plain in the songs. ("It's a paradox, people," she warned at one point.) The idea, I think, may still be obvious enough: If you can't find what you want in this world -- truth, beauty, etc. -- you make up a world that you like better, and live in it. Come to think of it, that's what we all do anyway. I'm on her side.

Recent criticism has suggested that the New Porns' Challengers album is somehow too restrained. Indeed, it trades big, satisfying drum codas for subtler textures, and its production leaves more room for voices and quieter instruments. Although drummer Kurt Dahle is credited with producing the basic track "beds" upon which the songs were built in the studio, some listeners seem to think Challengers could use another big basher moment like the one Dahle provided on the last album's "The Bleeding Heart Show." Dahle isn't around for the first leg of the tour – we were treated to replacement drummer Jon Wurster (Superchunk) instead – but with a fog machine blasting, a big blinking sign identifying the band, and Mason Williams' "Classical Gas" as entrance music (!), the New Porns were off and running with "All The Things That Go To Make Heaven & Earth," clearly favoring vivid momentum over subtlety.

If the band tried to make more space for detail on their new record, they seemed willing to sacrifice nuance for bluster during most of the show. Frontman Carl Newman isn't really all that powerful of a singer; his more timorous moments were occasionally overwhelmed by the forceful rhythm section. (Not so for Neko Case; she can compete for volume with any drummer, no matter how muscular his rhythms may be.) There were quiet moments too; I thought of Vivaldi's mandolin concerto as I heard the plucked octaves during "Challengers," although I admit thinking of Cheap Trick more often during the set. There was plenty of magic in little moments: the round-like section spilling into the terminal key change in "Mass Romantic," the roar following the Roxie shout-out in "Twin Cinema," Blaine Thurier's harmonica in "Sing Me Spanish Techno." But the prettiness and delicacy would soon be blown away in the end; when Wurster dropped the final bomb on "The Bleeding Heart Show," it was clear which side won out.

Case played the guest-star role, but second songwriter Dan Bejar was the wild card. Every fifteen minutes or so he appeared, as if he'd just risen from a nap. He'd sing a song, retreat to his glockenspiel and wander off for awhile, then return with a fresh Corona for another number. (Seems like a dream job.) "The Spirit Of Giving" was quite good, thanks especially to Kathryn Calder's accordion solo; "Myriad Harbour" was great, thanks to the in-band dialogue written into the lyrics; and "Jackie, Dressed in Cobras" killed, with Case and Bejar riding Wurster's nuclear drumming.

For a band that may not get to rehearse all that much – its members reside in various cities – the New Porns sure seemed ready to roll when they arrived. Five shows may be just enough for them to find themselves; a long, transformative road surely lies ahead of them in the next seven weeks. The band members seemed content to take talky breaks for their own amusement, even briefly essaying a Journey song as they chitchatted with audience members. Increasingly, bands are following the virtual model, living in scattered places, e-mailing demos around, and convening only when necessary; it works for the New Porns. And when you treat your work like a vacation with old friends, your most intense moments turn into your most fun ones too.

Hey man, nice shot

Thanks, Flickr!

Great work by this guy.

If you wear red tonight

Remember my run-in with polygamists this spring? Their "prophet" is going on trial this week, as you may have heard.

I see that today's CNN story about the trial includes this sentence:

Former followers say red, thought to be the color of evil, is banned.

Oh. Well this couldn't have helped me stay under their radar. I assume that I would've made myself obvious no matter what, but obviously I tipped my hand much sooner than I'd thought.

Q&A with Joe Henry

Here.