Thighs Wide Shut

Just Jack
Hiro Ballroom
July 31st

The title of this here posting is our personal response to the line ‘Don’t know yet if I’m glad I came‘ from Just Jack‘s chillicious ‘Writer’s Block’ ditty [d]. But what about you, were you glad that you came to JJ’s US debut at the Hiro Ballroom? I know you don’t have an answer cause ewe didn’t listen to us and decided that JOing to Shark Week was a butter use of yer time. Well buster poindexter and yer laboratory, you missed out (but you LA people have a chance 2 catch him 2nite) cause Just Jack (although it wasn’t just him alone up there on stage rizockin out) honed his skillz and owned the room, in what was purty much a ‘showcase’ leading up to the stateside release of his mos groovy groovy LP Overtones

The last time we were at Hiro for a showcase showdown, twas Lily Allen making a Hotlantic splash, but even though she was still wet behind her ears and between her thighs, her rise to the top was inevitable. The same can’t be said for Just Jack, which is a cryin shame considering his show was much more polished, hand clappin’in, and all around mo fun than watching Shark Week with Jerry Tarkanian. I don’t know what more I can say to convince you that JJ, like Penny Lane, belongs in your ears and in your eyes, so I’ll juss leave it as this: our thighs don’t lieszZs

The White Stripes
Madison Square Garden
July 24th

There’s nuttin quite like waking up with Folger’s in your cup the day after a seeing a phenom show, head pounding, ears ringing, and mouth and ass burping and farting the rankest of ranks. While that last duo can be thanked in part to the robert downing jring of a sack of White Castles, the other were the direct result of the major rawkin that Meg and her ‘lil brother’ Jack put on at MSG last nite. Hell, tis be the second greatest show I’ve seen by a duo there mt EVERest and mt suribachi! The first? Simon & Garfunkel’s we need sum sick cash reunion back in the ’03 (pre-Thighs Wide era), which also happens to be the greatestistest show I’ve ever seen. While I haven’t seen many other duos at the Garden, it’s still a feat when two albino-skinned Detroiters can bring an arena of 20,000 to its feet from the get-go to the get the hell outta the building thyme. And while mos bands who play ‘the world’s most famous arena’ fill our eyeballs up with endless Zoo-TV imagery, the ‘sibling’ Whites kept the focus on them, with no gimmicketry at all… unless you count the giant silhouettes bein cast behind them of Meg’s boobs bouncing (Hmmmmm, shadow boobs!). Although I wish they played for 3 hours, I’m happy they were able to squeeze in what they did in 2. The new material sounded mos thumcredible, but I muss say, my heart almost decided to stop after Jack picked up the mandolin and played ‘Little Ghost’ instead of ‘Prickly Thorn, But Sweetly Worn’. Damn, damn. Guess I’ll have to see em again!

Set Lisp

Dead Leaves On The Dirty Ground
When I Hear My Name
Jolene
Hotel Yorba
Cannon -> John The Revelator
Icky Thump
Do
Death Letter
In The Cold, Cold Night
A Martyr for My Love for You
I’m Slowly Turning Into You
Think I Smell A Rat -> Wasting My Time
300 M.P.H. Torrential Outpour Blues
You Don’t Know What Love Is (You Just Do As Your Told)
Fell In Love With A Girl -> Ball & Biscuit
Blue Orchid
I Just Don’t Know What To Do With Myself
Little Ghost
We’re Going To Be Friends
Little Bird -> Catch Hell Blues
My Doorbell
Seven Nation Army
Boll Weevil

[accordin to PradaShop]

Travis
Fillmore NY at Irving Plaza
July 15th

Tis been four long years since we’ve last heard from the Glaswegian quartet known as Travis. Four years doesn’t sound like a lot of time, but twas long enuff of a hiatus for me to fear they would never return at all, at least to our shores. For you see, Travis has had limited amount o’ success in America. And with each new release, that success keeps gettinz limitederer and limitederer. Which makes no farkin sense to me, considering that they’re better in every respect than the other wanker UK bands that have made a lasting splash, like Coldgay or Keane. And while their stadium rockin show should be playin and selling out MSG, I won’t complain too much that they’re stuck playing to two nights of sold out crowds at the much more user friendly Irving Plaza

Without hearing a single or double note of their new album, The Boy With No Name, I was already lined up with my hardon earned cash to see them. A month later, I realized that the show’s date was fast approaching, and I had yet to purchase said album. So with a week to go, I did some major cramming, cause nuttin is worse than seeing a band you like and not knowing any of the new tunes (the only case that that didn’t matter was rockin out to the Axl Rose fronted G’N’R cover band). Well, I is mos glaad that I crammed, cause not only did the boys easily pick up where they left off, but love hactually outdid themselves in the process. While their past three discs (The Man Who, The Invisible Band & 12 Memories) are all certifiable bestness, I bee leave they’ve purrfected their sound and tuneshipedness with Boy. If yer a newbie, I’d pick up all 4 immediately. Wants wrong with bein into wanker music? Not like we all don’t wank in the first place!

We’ve seen the fellas a bunch o’ times b4… even paying to see them open for Oasis at Radio City & Dido at Jones Beach in a much simpler pre-9/11 world, but last night our eyes were even mo wide open (didn’t hurt that Demetri Martin staged his white t-shirt ode to ‘Selfish Jean’… sea above for orig vid and live versh). Since wees is so in love with the new disc, we were quite jimmy jazzed that a 1/3 of their set was dedicated to its tracks. Usually new ditties stick out like a sore thumb up someone’s butt, but this was not the case last night. And the crowd seemed to agree, turning a user friendly plaza into a mos rockin stadium. Even though I want Travis to make it big in America, like my Chinese food, I can live without the MSG

Setlist

Selfish Jean
Eyes Wide Open [d]
Writing to Reach You
As You Are
My Eyes
Big Chair
Pipe Dreams
Re-offender
Side
Driftwood
Good Feeling
Closer (aborted & restarted)
Sing
Battle Ships
All I Want to Do Is Rock
Turn
——-
Flowers In the Window (acoustic)
Indefinitely
Selfish Jean w/Demetri Martin on shirts
WDIAROM

Ricky Gervais
Highline Festival
The Theater at Madison Square Garden
May 20th

I love me some laughter, but I’m no lover of stand-up comedy^ß. I made an exception to that rule for Ricky Gervais, cause he rules^æ, and cause I also needed my spirits uplifted after I wagered my Thigh Offspring’s college fund on Mint Slewlep. Ricky did not disappoint, but I wouldn’t necessarily say that he blew my mind and my cock either. But since we all now know that I’m more of a sit-down guy in a stand-up world, I’d have to say it was the greatestist stand-up show I have ever seen (For the record, the wurstest stand-up gig I sawz was the Coz (sans Peabs), who bored me to death at the IU Aud back in the late ’90s). Ricky G keep going back and forth between political and sexual jokes, but always got the mos reaction when he was rolling out his animal bits (not to be confused his his children’s book Flanimals). Ricky seemed to be eating up one of his first American audiences as much as we were gorging on him. I hope this mutual dining will propel him to come back and do it all over again, although I won’t be mad vexed if David Bowie doesn’t introduce him each time with his ‘Pug Nose Face’ serenade from Extras like he brillsiantly did last noche

^ßIf Gawd really wanted to punish me, he should unleash 10 plagues consisting of 10 stand-up comics upon Thighland. Gawd, if yer havin trouble choosing, I’d have to recommend Paula Poundstone, David Brenner, Elaine Boosler, Rita Rudner, Dane Cook, Rosie O’Donnell, Hecky Brown, McBain, Rupert Pupkin and any random talking head comedian as seen on E! or VH1

^æaside from Special Agent Dale Cooper, is there any better character in television history than David Brent? For those playing at home, the answer is ‘no’.

•Daniel Johnston
Bang on a Can All-Stars
Legendary Stardust Cowboy
Highline Festival
Highline Ballroom
May 17th

I knew that last night was going to be like no other. It didn’t hurt that it started with David Byrne walking into the same E subway car as me and ended with David Bowie walking right by me as he made his exit from the wonderful new Highline Ballroom venue. As for what transpired in between? Well, if yer one of those people who have to ask, do you call this music? like I did for the first two acts, then you and I were in for a night of a thousand headaches. And by headaches I mean a a triple bill that’s more queer than a three dollar bill, including and limited to a warbling psychobilly cowboy who may have been the name inspiration for Ziggy Stardust, a gaggle of musicians who redefine the word ‘cacophony’ with every single note they poot, and a bipolar pregnant male who may be the bestest and oddest music genius since Brian Wilson

Headahces and earaches aside, that BPM (bipolar preggers male), Daniel Johnston, was the sole reason for my appearance, more out of curiosity than for gettin my rocks off. While I’ll admit that I’m no long time listener, I will now and forever be a lifelong fan of Daniel J’s. To appreciate his music, which is a lot to ask of anyone, you really need to appreciate Daniel and his thumcredible life story. And there’s no better way to get yer learnin’ on than by watching one of the greatestist music docs of all thyme and our pick of Bestest Moooooovie of ’06

Daniel’s set was short, but it was mos certainly sweet. It was more like an experience than a concert, but one worth experiencing for any new or old comer, cept for my gal pal K-Dawg who said that ‘If Daniel Johnston were playing on the street for change, I wouldn’t give him any.‘ Ouch, but at least she was write on about Bang On A Can, who ‘sounded like a middle school orchestra warming up, only they never actually performed– just warmed up.‘

•DJ image, more of dem and review of that show and the Warsaw gig over at Vooklyn Bregan