Phoenix

As Monolith wound down, we sought refuge in Phoenix to preserve our positive outlook on the festival after the Passion Pit farce we had just endured.

And my, did they deliver. Phoenix has a reputation for being an air-tight live band. All six Frenchmen were perfectly efficient, just like Phoenix’s catalog of pop songs.

A few technical sound issues aside, singer Thomas Mars & Co. deftly breezed through their hits for a packed main stage. With their U.S. tour sold out, the scheduling remix was a wise one — Phoenix up top at the SoCo Stage would have probably led to a roof collapse.

We didn’t stick around for The Mars Volta. This is why. Yikes.

And there you have it! Intern Whisperer’s coverage of Colorado’s own Monolith Festival, 2009! Let us know how you enjoyed it and shoot us tips for other music to cover at info@internwhisperer.com or internwhisperer@gmail.com. Follow us on Twitter @internwhisperer. Cheers!

Phoenix — “Long Distance Call” live at Monolith Festival:

Passion Pit. *barf*

I was looking forward to completely avoiding Passion Pit. Unfortunately, because of a scheduling switcharoo, I was submitted to wading through hordes of douchy fans (apparently ready to trample women and children so they could get close enough to lap up singer Michael Angelakos’ spittle) to meet up with my crew who were excited to see them.

Who would have thought piss-poor screeching falsetto could inspire grown men to launch elbows at women, step over dozens of people and spill their $7 Coors (“They don’t have ‘Natty at Red Rocks? Drats, Batman!”) all over helpless bystanders. Maybe they just wanted to get close to Angelakos, sing along, and talk about being huge, misunderstood and complicated meat heads.

Angelakos encouraged all to shuffle down to the main stage to see Phoenix as Passion Pit mercifully ended their set. Preoccupied with imploring what good friends Passion Pit and Phoenix were, Angelakos made his best move of the night: sending people away to see Passion Pit’s “besties 4ever,” Phoenix.

To summarize: Passion Pit sucked. The crowd sucked. Then we went to Phoenix. Hoo-rah!

The Twilight Sad at Monolith.

Maybe there’s something inherently intense about growing up in Scotland. Maybe I just think every Scot is one small provocation away from going William Wallace, Braveheart-style crazy on any unfortunate chump that is foolish enough to slight them.

Anyway, The Twilight Sad is a noisy, moody bunch. There’s nothing wrong with that. Until some drunk-ass shouts “Billy Corgan!” in reference to frontman James Graham’s very slight resemblance to the similarly buzz-headed Smashing Pumpkins singer (whom The Twilight Sad have toured with, mind you).

“Whut did yew saye? Billly Corrrgan? Funny.” I doubt Graham was being sincere. And then bassist Craig Orzel’s amp crapped out, leading to a frantic change where he borrow Deer Tick‘s bass rig. Despite it all — The Twilight Sad played wonderfully. Definitively one of the best and most surprising gems of the entire festival, these Scots have toured with, but are certainly an improvement over bands like Mogwai, The Smashing Pumpkins and Idlewild.

Grab their new record, Forget The Night Ahead in October.

Bad Veins.

I’m rooting for Bad Veins to make a splash having finally released their debut album. I first saw them in Cincinnati back in 2007 playing for an art auction benefit for my friends’ son. They were good then, and are better now.

Benjamin Davis employs a vintage reel-to-reel tape deck to cover pre-recorded  backing tracks while he alternates between keyboards, crunchy guitar, a telephone and a megaphone. And it’s hard not to notice Sebastien Schultz plugging away efficiently on the drums.

They’ll be back in Denver Oct. 10 at the Hi-Dive. If you missed one of the better shows at Monolith, you’ll want to check them out.

Bad Veins — “Warm and Gold” live at Monolith:

More Bad Veins at Monolith:

Neon Indian. In neon.

Neon Indian is likely to see some breakthrough success when their debut album Psychic Chasms drops this October.

Already awash in buzz, Alan Palomo (of VEGA fame) is crafting a delectable little lo-fi funky groove that should have malnourished hipsters across the nation dancing in their colorful sneakers.

Unfortunately, with their Monolith performance being only the third ever live Neon Indian show, there are definitely some kinks to work out. Still, there’s tons of potential. I, for one, would much rather shake — or briefly consider, then dismiss the idea of shaking — my pale booty to Neon Indian than Girl Talk. Just sayin’.

Palomo even sampled a ‘lil bit of audience participation for a future track. If you were there, you’re famous! Where do we send mailing info for royalties?

Neon Indian — “Psychic Chasms” live (for just the third time!) at Monolith:

Neon Indian — “Local Joke” live at Monolith:

Neon Indian’s Alan Palomo sampling the crowd for a future track:

Attempting to enjoy Girl Talk in the rain.

Don’t scratch your eyes out (like I was tempted to do during Girl Talk), this full-action shot of Hans, friend of Intern Whisperer, doesn’t quite do his moves justice. Beyond the merit of his stunning gyrations, the effort is doubly impressive given the chilly evening, chilly rain, and cheerleader music (or, how my former coworker @dive_bar describes Girl Talk).

Indeed, while Mr. Talk allowed fans onstage to feign the enthusiasm normally reserved for a warm cluuuub, I’m pretty sure he just popped his CD into his laptop and hit “play.” What a live show! Girl Talk! Twisting knobs (not a sexual innuendo) for the low, low price of $25,000+!

Unless dude-man brought the pacifiers, someone will need to explain his value and appeal to me.

Girl Talk at Monolith. Twisting knobs and such:

Cotton Jones at Monolith.

Cotton Jones may be riding the last wave of enthusiasm for indie-alt-country. But as I said before, there’s something very authentic about them. Clearly their buzz factor is growing, as people either shuffled down into the Red Rocks visitor center right after The Walkmen, skipping M. Ward, or saw a few minutes of Mr. Ward before deciding to scurry to catch Cotton Jones.

Indeed, the intimacy that probably would have served M. Ward well was afforded to Cotton Jones, who soaked up the attention of every plaid-shirted soul in the room with Michael Nau and Whitney McGraw’s beautiful harmonies.

Keep an eye on these guys (and gal) — they’re a little bit country and a little bit rock & roll, but a whole lot of awesome.

'Twas a rainy weekend. Rain poncho high-5.

Neither of the girls to the left here are M. Ward. No, instead this picture is here in a post about M. Ward at Monolith to justify some crabbiness. Saturday was rainy. All day. It sucked. But, whereas The Walkmen played so well that it was easy to overcome the discomfort, M. Ward was disappointing.

In fact, The Walkmen and M. Ward were the two acts I was most looking forward to for the whole weekend. But after a lovely rendition of “Chinese Translation,” Mr. Ward proceeded to blast through some of his classic songs at breakneck speed. Maybe after one tune the band decided the weather was grim enough to warrant double-timing all their material to get back to their warm, cushy, plush green room. Disappointing. It could also be that M. Ward is one of those acts better suited for an indoor theater…I recall having the same thought at Cat Power last year at Lollapalooza. Whenever you’re in Denver next, Mr. M. Ward, the Bluebird has your name on it.

Meanwhile, M. Ward performing “Chinese Translation” at Monolith Festival Saturday:

The Walkmen: Very good.

Sorry for the delay in wrapping up these Monolith Festival posts, gang. Bit of a hectic week last week. Alas, here we return to wrap up what you may have missed (and convince you to plump for the ticket next year!):

The Walkmen are a very good band. They have been a very good band. For quite some time. If you haven’t taken notice, please do.

Frontman Hamilton Leithauser may take some getting used to. He belts a half-Bob Dylan half-shout that is a bit surprising at first listen. But live…oh my. You really appreciate how well-crafted The Walkmen’s songs truly are. When a song like “On the Water” slowly works its way up to Leithauser’s wailing chorus matched with rumbling bass and dirty guitars, you realize: This. Is. A. Very. Good. Band.

Little touches of gray hair here and there, wedding bands (my girlfriend noticed, to her chagrin…) and an assured performance signify the band has been in the trenches for some time. Their latest record, “You & Me,” shows maturity, growth, and a very promising future. 40 minutes of The Walkmen at Monolith was not nearly enough. Here’s to hoping they come back to Denver soon.

The Walkmen at Monolith: “On the Water”

The Walkmen at Monolith: “Postcards from Tiny Islands”

Above: These United States, “Honor Amongst Thieves.”

Next up, we ventured downstairs into the visitor center to check out These United States on the WOXY.COM Stage. Here’s the secret if you end up at Monolith in the future: Downstairs is where it’s at for checking out “on-the-cusp” bands that may slip through the cracks. There are some real gems, especially on the WOXY Stage — my butt wasn’t parked in that claustrophobic little room just to stay dry once the rain started. The Walkmen aside, the WOXY Stage was home to all my favorite acts at Monolith.

These United States on the WOXY.COM Stage.

These United States typify my claim. They. Were. Awesome. I was too busy gently nodding my head (a display of extreme excitement and intense joy for me and as expressive as I am capable of being) to film a full song. Their third album, “Everything Touches Everything,” (link to buy) just dropped, do yourself a favor and have ‘em a listen.