There is a moment right after the first chorus in “Ezekiel 7 and the Permanent Efficacy of Grace” from which the song can go anywhere.  Two piano chords wobble on a tightrope, back and forth, and one can’t help but wonder if perhaps the song is just going to end at that point, the soft heartbeat of percussion pulsing more weakly until it goes unheard, succumbing to the implacable fade.  This is the world in flux – lives waxing in and out of their parallels, possible futures vying for dominance.  Think about how rare it is these days to be genuinely surprised by a song, to sit with bated breath as you wonder where the music is going to take you.

Think about how rare it is for a song to imitate life so exquisitely that it hurts.

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What I am trying to delineate here is why I feel bothered when people say something like, “The Mountain Goats are still great, but nothing compares to Darnielle’s output pre-2005.”  I can’t count the number of posts I’ve read saying something similar to that.  The phrasings may change a little from person to person, but the general idea is that Darnielle made better music when The Mountain Goats consisted mostly of one or two people.  Of course, any Darnielle – old or new – is good Darnielle, so my annoyance can never be too great.  But his output from 2006-2012 is one of the greatest musical runs ever, and some…

I first attended The Fest in 2011, and I’ve since wondered about what that weekend means, if anything.  It is billed, rightfully so, as the largest punk festival in the country, but there were only a marginal number of big names and they all, for the most part, had the shortened timeslots that plague such events (one has to wonder why Warped Tour still draws a crowd year after year, offering outdoor stages, mediocre sound quality, the blazing temperatures of summer, and 20 minute sets).  Granted, bands like Magrudergrind and Comadre are well-served by short sets, and an hour certainly seems enough for your Hot Water Musics and Against Me!s.

Much of The Fest’s appeal seems to lie in the possibility of what might happen rather than what is actually scheduled to.  “Secret shows” always produce heavy rumors passed around with all the fervor of notes in school.  One hears that Comadre is playing an At the Drive-In cover show in a warehouse 30 minutes outside of town (didn’t happen), and that Alternative Press is hosting their own mini-festival of bands playing cover shows, such as Bomb the Music Industry! covering The Weakerthans (happened).  Not everyone is in the mood to be excited about these things at two in the morning after a long and sweaty night of shows.  But there are people with boundless zeal who are constantly energetic to see something they may never get to see again.  It is, even in a state of exhaustion, a little…