J. Tillman. All photos by Renee McMahon.

Unscrew the Crocodile Employees Benefit, featuring The Long Winters, David Bazan, J. Tillman, Robin Pecknold of Fleet Foxes, and more.
Where: Chop Suey
When: Sunday, Dec. 30
P.S. I've got some audio that I'll post later today, too.

The Long Winters

Goods for the auction, raffle.

People and Pabst

J Tillman plays tonight at 11:15

Andrea Zollo of Triumph of Lethargy just passed this helpful schedule along. Apparently everyone is doing 15 minute sets at tonight's "Unscrew the Crocodile Employees" benefit:

12:30 - ?? SPECIAL GUESTS

12:05 – 12:20 DAVE TERRY (AQUEDUCT)

11:40 – 11:55 DAVID BAZAN

11:15 – 11:30 J.TILLMAN

10:50 – 11:05 FLEET FOXES

10:25 – 10:40 SIBERIAN

10:00 – 10:15 DAMIEN JURADO

9:35 – 9:50 TRIUMPH OF LETHARGY

9:10 – 9:25 THE PLEASUREBOATERS

8:45 – 9:00 SEAN NELSON

8:20 – 8:35 PETER PARKER

7:55 – 8:10 THE PALE PACIFIC

7:30 – 7:45 SONNY from SLENDER MEANS/BCRP

DJ KRIS & DJ ROY

Sure, the combination of Cody Willis and Dale Crover is awesome, but so is this:

This year I experienced the life-altering event of motherhood. It's both challenging and rewarding, somehow at the same time. It's nothing and everything I expected. One of the biggest surprises has been that my husband and I, who are average folks in the looks department have produced an extremely attractive child. I'm sure you're thinking that all mommies assume their baby boys are little Adrian Greniers in training, but in our case, it may be true. When it comes down to it, beauty is all math and our little guy with his big eyes, symmetrical features and already deep chin and cheek dimples has that fabled "golden triangle" that fits the current standard of beauty. Not to mention we can't take the kid anywhere without someone commenting on his appearance.

At first I thought people were just being nice, but now at seven months of age it's beginning to verge on the ridiculous. There isn't a time we leave the house when someone well-intentioned person doesn't coo over our baby and inevitably follow the praise of his looks with a comment on how we should get him on TV. It is of course flattering, but at the same time saddens me. When did our society begin to see attractive children as their parent's meal ticket? My husband is now one semester away from an extremely well paying career, I'm fortunate enough to be able to do something I enjoy, even if it's not exactly lucrative and all I need do is look at the current examples of piss-poor child star parenting to make throw up in my mouth at the mere suggestion that my kid go to work before his first birthday.

Holding this strong opinion, I was mortified then relieved to find Lynne Spears' book on 'Christian Parenting' was in the works and then has rightfully put on indefinite 'hold' . If this 'indefinite' hold is ever hilariously lifted, I'm proposing the following titles:

Fancy Crib vs. Future Crazy: The Pros and Cons of Child Bread-Winning
Momager: Put Your Pretty Baby to Work So You Don't Have To
Cash Cow: Sexing Up Your 'Tween for Fun and Profit
Disney Doll: Your Kid's Future in Corporate White Slavery
Jesus, Stop These Sperm: Praying for Your Period, The Biblebelt Barrier Method

I mean really, would middleclassdom have been so bad for the Spears family? Brit would have grown up a public school grad, (with presumably a C+ average) maybe been a cheerleader or homecoming queen and then it would have been off to a future as an attractive dental hygienist. A life where she could "sing" in church and no one would think she looked anything less than terrific after squeezing out back to back bundles o'joy. If what Britney possesses is actual talent, wouldn't it have been just as well realized at 23 as it was at 14? And as for the latest tabloid-fodder in the Spears clan, little Jamie Lynn, her teen pregnancy would have been coffee talk for local gossips and not headline making news.

The only thing that would in my mind would let Lynne off the hook, is to have confirmed what I have suspected to be true for sometime. Brit, Paris,Lindsey and crew are in fact CIA recruits and a well-trained unit of government agents selected to keep the public's mind off of our sad current political state. Sort of a Georgie's Angels thing.( In this senario, I figure it's Brit(Kelly), Lindsey(Sabrina), Paris(Jill), Nicole(Kris), Mischa(Tiffany), new recruit Jamie Lynn(Julie) and Harvey Levin as Bosely) Was it sheer coincidence Britney divorced K-Fed the same week Rumsfeld resigned? I think not. I'm woefully hoping everything these girls do, from their terrible records to exposing their Brazilians are part of a bigger government conspiracy and "Patriotism' Y'all", not just the result of the afore mentioned piss-poor parenting coupled with negligence and greed.

So when it comes to my little boy, I think I'll let all the benifits society reeps on those deemed attractive be enough.

Ohh, I gotta go... Hannah Montana is about to start......Happy New Year!

One more weekend of expectation-riddled festivities until the winter doldrums fully take over, enveloping bright spirits in gloomy slate gray days that never, ever, ever seem to end. Luckily there's still the most overly anticipated/inflated night of the year to look forward to. Hooray.

Tonight!
Friday, December 28

Spinderella (center), War Room, 12/28.

Is there anything else that needs to be said about tonight other than the fact that Spinderella is behind the steel wheels, bringing all of her reduced, reused and recycled celeb status to the War Room and GOODS Christmas party? I'm sure there is.

Saturday
December 29

Team Gina, Chop Suey, 12/29.

Team Gina tag team Club Pop this week and Brian J. Barr notes in this week's Short List:
With matching outfits, multiple costume changes, synchronized moves, old-school beats, and, above all else, a sense of humor, what's not to like about Team Gina? The local lesbionic hip-hop duo is like a scrapbook from your ‘80s childhood; they drop references to Jem and the Holograms, wear neon tights, and employ those jabbing Run DMC-style beats.
Chop Suey, 9 p.m. $6.

The Pop Machine, Comet Tavern, 12/29.

The Comet has the extraordinarily awesome combination of Wallpaper and the Pop Machine, who Ma'Chell DUma Lavassar raves about this week:
Feeling the winter chill? Warm up with the Pop Machine. No, not the Pop Machine from Indianapolis, or the Pop Machines from Chicago, but Seattle's own Pop Machine, who play classic and I mean classic, sticky-sweet, toothache powerpop that's like syrupy, hot cocoa for your rock' n roll soul.
Comet Tavern, 9 p.m. $6. With Husbands Love Your Wives and Luminous Craft.

Skylark showcases Portland favorite Wow and Flutter with Ghost Lobby. Rachel Shimp wrote about the band recently:
This Wow and Flutter, known as a mild-mannered band in P-town for a decade, has undergone some fluctuations of their own as they finish their sixth full-length album. They’re more raucous than before—a Willamette Week writer recently saw front man Cord Amato playing guitar, keyboards, and a tambourine with his foot while singing at a house party—but with the same pleasing, energetic sound. Seeing them in possibly the best free music venue in all of Seattle may just set your heart aflutter. 9 p.m. free.

Sunday
December 30

Wu-Tang Clan, Showbox SODO, 12/30

Two (sort of) words: Wu-Tang Clan. Showbox SODO, 8 p.m., $37.50 adv./$40.

Help keep the unexpectedly ousted Crocodile employees from having to visit the blood bank too many times! It won't hurt a bit either. As Hannah says:
While the closure of this local institution was a blow to the spirit of the community at large, no one took a harder hit than loyal employees like longtime general manager/Jedi Knight of Security Kevin Watson, beloved engineer Jim Anderson, and workaholic booking agent Eli Anderson. Tonight, former Croc booking agent Pete Greenberg has coordinated a benefit to raise funds for these and other Croc refugees at his new post over at Chop Suey. It’s a damn fine line-up that also includes two of the artists that inadvertently played the Crocodile’s final show, Robin Pecknold of Fleet Foxes and J. Tillman, along with Damien Jurado, Peter Parker, Pale Pacific, Siberian, and the Pleasureboaters. Chop Suey, 7 p.m. $10.

Monday!
New Years Eve. Woo-hoo.

Ma'Chell, as always, puts it best in her Whore Moans preview:
Poor, poor New Years Eve, your reputation is more tarnished than a certain parentally challenged pop tart. It's not your fault every party rookie in the world chooses December 31 to release their inner Winehouse.

Thats why I implore all you nightlife professionals out there, take back the night! And I can't think of a band more worthy of house party abandonment than my fave Seattle guitar heroes the Whore Moans. Party hard before their set and prepare to rock your buzz off with their hook-heavy hot licks infused with just enough sexy to inspire a midnight round of random stranger tonsil hokey. If that's not enough to get you out on the town, think of all the youtube worthy scenarios you'll be missing, like out the cab window vomiting (remember to duck), ankle-cracking high heel fall downs and crazy-ass, woefully under dressed chick fights. With the Tripwires, Zero Down & the Small Change.
Sunset Tavern, 9 p.m. $25 (?!?!?!?!?! Exactly why NYE is ridiculous.).

If there must be more. . .

The Lashes, Comet Tavern, 12/31. Photo by Blush Photo.

The Lashes + Feral Children + the Trucks + Flying Fox take over the Comet:

Tonight the Lashes have more than just the New Year to celebrate. This NYE bash marks the eve of the band’s second release since Get It—but not the whole enchilada just yet. Thank You Side A is exactly that, the first half (not an EP, thank you very much) of a batch of six new songs recorded by producer John Goodmanson last winter. “We’re more proud of this than anything we’ve ever done,” says frontman Ben Clark of the effort which will be self-released and available exclusively on tours and at Sonic Boom. Those who caught the band’s Bumbershoot set got a preview of each track including the poppy, Lashes-appropriate “Look at Us”—something the band certainly invites with antics like prank phone calls from the stage to TV news desks and silly string explosions. With the cheeky all-girl Trucks, Feral Children’s visceral rock and instrument bashing, and Jan Norberg’s writhing and wailing, Clark’s right when he says of the night, “It will be a crazy rockin’ good time.” AJA PECKNOLD
Comet Tavern, 8 p.m. $12 (not so bad.).

Ok, ok. And more:
Science Friction New Years party with 25 performers, and visual art
It was August and you were getting ready for Burning Man. You bought expensive lace and beading and made the most beautiful pair of four-foot alien enchantress wings. But then the car broke down halfway through Oregon, you spent four days trying to find a chop shop selling old Volvo parts, and by the time you were ready to go, the event was over and your beautiful artwork/costume was irrelevant. So what better time to resurrect the craft project you’d planned to debut in the Nevada desert than New Year’s Eve? West Seattleites hoping to indulge their love for electronic music and Cowboy Bebop (and avoid the bridge) can get that midnight kiss at the Youngstown Cultural Arts Center. They’re playing host to Science Friction, a party celebrating all things exotic and nerdy—sci-fi inspired costumes are encouraged. Located in an old schoolhouse, the Center’s great for events on a massive scale; four rooms are planned for this one, each with its own bar, featuring over 25 performers. Tunes start spinning at 9 p.m., but if you want to make it your after-hours stop instead, they’re running until 4 a.m.
Youngstown Cultural Arts Center, 9 p.m. $25 adv./$30.

That's it for this post. More ways to spend it here.

You could be forgiven if you didn't realize Son Volt put out a really good album (The Search) in 2007. The band, fronted by Jay Farrar, Uncle Tupelo's more nasal half, has been so overshadowed by Wilco since Farrar and Tweedy's fork in the road that their very existence has been called into question of late. While Wilco steers ever further from its twangy roots, with wildly varied results, Son Volt stays grounded in them, a stubbornness that resulted in the gorgeous "Methamphetamine," a haunting, road-weary tune that plays like the straighter passages of a Michael Perry memoir. In a memorable year in music, it stands out as my favorite track. Which, I suppose, makes it the best song of 2007 -- to me, at least.

Yesterday, the New York Times confirmed the long-circulating rumors that Jay-Z will be stepping down as CEO of Def Jam Records, a position he's occupied for three years. Supposedly, Universal, Def Jam’s corporate owner, balked at Jay-Z’s salary demands. If one were to take his lyrics at face value -- a dicey and unsporting proposition with any artist -- Jay-Z’s high asking price should be no surprise. After all, this is the man who broke ground not only as the first rapper-turned-CEO of a company not of his own creation, but also as the first person to publicly brag about “raping” his company and then become its CEO (“I’m rapin’ Def Jam ‘til I’m the $100 million man”). He boasted that his avarice served to avenge the slights of his musical predecessors, who were never paid their due. (“I’m overcharging niggas for what they did to the Cold Crush.”) What all this amounted to, however, was a moderately successful three-year stint, some low-level layoffs, and a denied request for more money and its accompanying problems.

While the man who calls himself J-Hova has no shortage of wealth and enterprise upon which to fall back (among other things, he is owner of a clothing line and co-owner of the New Jersey Nets), his departure from Def Jam still rings a little disappointing. The thing is, more than most rappers, even, Jay-Z’s success is wrapped in, or wrapped around, legend and myth. Plenty of rappers have gone from rags to riches, but few have made their success seem so inevitable and versatile. 50 Cent ran a more than impressive street game (are there any similar journalistic accounts of Jay-Z’s skills as a hustler?), was pumped so full of lead he could’ve been a pencil, and then had the acumen to buy into Vitamin Water in ’04, ultimately cashing out to the tune of $400 million. And yet he doesn’t possess anywhere near the mythic stature of Jay-Z. Of course, a lot of that has to do with musical prowess, but more on that in a bit.

In moving from the hustle to the boardroom, from the eternal elephant of society’s living room to the very picture of establishment success, Jay-Z achieved the dream of celluloid gangsters as disparate as Oscar’s Snaps Provolone, Haymaker & Sally's Lincoln Playa, and The Wire’s Stringer Bell. He’s gone “legit,” something he frequently celebrates in his lyrics. Now that he’s completed the full arc of the hustler-made-good, he’s above needing to prove himself in any realm (“I don’t want much, fuck, I drove every car / Some nice cooked food, some nice clean drawers.”). The problem is, making good is one thing, staying good another, and staying good in the public eye, in the mythopoetic, hardscrabble American Dream sense, yet one more. When a gangster gets taken out, it’s a blaze of glory, or at least an acceptable price for having lived the high life the hard, fast way. But nobody ponders Vito Corleone’s offers and turns them down, and it's hard to imagine Horatio Alger’s protagonists watching their ass for a closing boardroom door.

Chris Cornell and Susan Silver, during presumably happier times.

This should be taken with a grain of salt, considering the source, but TMZ is reporting some very ugly news about Chris Cornell's apparently contentious relationship with ex-wife and former manager Susan Silver. Sounds like things may have gone from bad to much, much worse.

Voice of the Seven Woods

Former Fallout Records owner and current Tigertail proprietor Tim Hayes was telling me recently that he's been really into Turkish psych. Many take Tim's word as God, so when the Wall of Sound folks threw those adjectives around to describe Voice of the Seven Woods, I was nearly sold- without even hearing a note (though after they played it over the store's system, I scrambled to grab what I could). Though he's not Turkish- the Manchester-based man behind VOTSW, Rick Tomlinson (who has close ties to the B-Music collective) borrows heavily from the Eastern realms to kick out some jangly velvety, levitating magic carpets of sound that could quickly become my new jam for early '08 rotations. Too bad I gave it to someone else for Christmas.

My year end countdown continues with the man who probably spent Christmas somewhere like Belize coating Beyonce's ass in coconut scented oil.

#5
Jay-Z

American Gangster

Love him or hate him Jay-Z is an amazing fucking storyteller, and in terms of thematic records, this joint is the Red Headed Stranger of rap. His interpretation of this film is about a million times more interesting than the actual movie.