Teaching at a new school this year has been a bit like living in a cave. At times daylight seems to no longer exist, and my only friends are the little critters who scale the walls. But there is a gap in the rocks. Christmas break is fast approaching. For nearly two weeks I may assume to have a life.

In my mind this break has infinite possibilities when, in reality, it will be brief and probably hard to look at without getting dizzy. So far my grand plans include seeing family in Iowa, reading some classic literature, catching up with friends, playing some music, and, of course, spending an ample amount of time with my immediate family. One can only imagine where this time will come from.

I'm compelled to post, but all that I can really say is that I am emotionally exhausted and Christmas is near enough to touch. I look forward to large quantities of Broadway coffee, the band Grizzly Bear, the book The Turn of the Screw by Henry James, and the television show It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia. Until then...

I managed to pick up the Bon Iver record, "For Emma, Forever Ago." It is perhaps my favorite record of the year so far. The sound is low-fi, the likes of Grizzly Bear more so than Iron & Wine. The tracks are airy with brilliant Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young harmonies. The lyrics are simple but moving, like something that would end up on a Zach Braff movie soundtrack. This album was self-released, but look for Jag-Jaguar to put it out soon.

I also picked up a subscription to the great Paste magazine. They currently running a Radiohead-esque promotion in which the buyer chooses the price they wish to pay for the subscription. It certainly is one of the more sophisticated music magazines, but me being the cheap guy I am, I never purchased a full subscription until now. Paste hopes I will be hooked and perhaps I will.

As the cold air finally filters into northern Missouri, my interests, too, look towards a more interior life. Debbie and I will be reading Philip Pullman's The Golden Compass. It is the first novel of a fantasy trilogy that will be released on film this December. I normally don't bite on the fantasy books, but while teaching at a new school, I find that the plot driven literature satisfies. What the text lacks in metaphor it picks up in sensory imagery.

A little over a week ago I attended the Wilco/Andrew Bird show with Debbie. The following are some belated comments on the show:

There is no doubt Wilco and Andrew Bird brought their A game to Kansas City this weekend, but what the hell was the crowd doing? You decide to fork over thirty of your hard earned dollars to go drink over-priced beer and catch up with old friends? Half the crowd was not even facing the stage through Andrew Bird’s set.

Andrew Bird, however, was not to be put off. There was absolutely no meandering in this full hour set. Through most songs, Bird had to pluck, loop, whistle, strum, and sing his way to creating compositions both beautiful and complex. Often times he began by overlapping melodies created on the violin before switching to the guitar for rhythmic accompaniment and vocals. Behind him stood two large phonograph-looking speakers, which spun when activated to create a type of vibrato sound, like a faster Leslie speaker, with the looping material. The set included a complete mix of old and new tracks of which many were rearranged to create something new but oddly familiar. By the way, enough cannot be said of this man’s whistling skills. During Wilco’s set, Tweedy could not help but to make fun of his own half-assed whistling claiming, “I taught Andrew Bird everything he knows.”

Wilco humbly took the stage around at 9:30 to a well-lit stage and nearly unprepared crowd. As a result, I was able to endure the pleasantries of several drunkards rushing to the front with two fistfuls of beer through the first few tracks. A heated debate could be undertaken about who hated drunk people more, me or the owner of The Record Bar who stood in front of me. We exchanged a few knowing and spiteful glances as a few dulled heads smashed between us.

To some surprise Wilco played a full two and a half hours of mostly older tracks. This became painfully aware to me as the guy behind me yelled at an inappropriate volume, “Now I need to go get all their old albums!” It was a carefully crafted set for the long-standing Wilco fan, celebrating its many phases.

Jeff Tweedy donned the cowboy hat with appropriateness. Nels Kline rocked his traditional military boots and straight-legged high-water pants. If ever there was an electrifying member of this band it is Kline. The guy actually looks like he is being electrocuted through most of his guitar solos. Glenn Kotche mounted a transparent Vista-lite drum kit with long hair that was oddly appropriate considering the sheer seventies-make-up of their latest album. Debbie confessed that Kotche was perhaps the most attractive, and I told her that no one had a bigger crush on him that me.

Needless to say, Tweedy had a few jokes for the Elton John show going on at the newly opened Sprint Center Arena. He seemed to warm up with the crowd’s urgent cheering. During the winding down of “Spiders” a small fireworks display emerged from the building behind the stage. Tweedy concluded with a “take that Elton John” as the band erupted into the final push of the refrain. Perhaps my only complaint lies in the frivolity of not one but two full encores. I’ve never been a fan of the encore. What kind of sick pleasure does the band get from having the fans beg for more? If you got more songs to play, save us the sting of clapping our hands for five minutes and play the songs already. The current Wilco lineup does not disappoint. And if you don’t know who Andrew Bird is, do yourself a favor by finding out.

Andrew Bird Set Included: A Nervous Tic Motion of the Head; Fake Palindromes; Opposite Day; Skin Is, My; I; Scythian Empire; Dark Matter.*

Wilco Set Included: Via Chicago (opener); Casino Queen; Too Far Apart; I Got You (At the End of the Century); Hummingbird; Spiders (Kidsmoke); You Are My Face: Side with the Seeds; Hate it Here; A Shot in the Arm; I Am Trying to Break Your Heart; Jesus Etc.; Heavy Metal Drummer; I’m the Man Who Love You; Pot Kettle Black. *

* Set lists are not comprehensive and in no particular order.

I've been taking these three in heavy doses this week. For whatever reason The Khrusty Brothers really seems to resonate in me right now. It has these grooves that move underneath the endless soundscapes, really well orchestrated and produced. Don Chaffer's lyrics have always moved something in me.

I'm reading Going After Cacciato for a book club I've joined. This is one of Tim O'Brien's earlier novels about the Vietnam War. I first read The Things They Carried a few years ago. While the writing style is absolutely O'Brien's, the novel structure is quite a departure from The Things They Carried. It is spacious and abstract with multiple narratives running with the same characters. I find that The Things They Carried has more concrete imagery. I am really enjoying the book though. There is no doubt that Tim O'Brien's work will some day be cannonized.

The Wire is an HBO show that I believe is now in its third season. I've just begun with the first season since returning to my beloved Netflix account after Blockbuster dangled a good thing in my face and then promptly pulled it away after I reached for it. I'd like to give a public "up yours" to the Blockbuster Corporation. You've screwed me again with your bullshit business ethics.

But I digress. The Wire is a well written detective show with multiple characters which the writers are not afraid to shy away from. This includes characters on both sides of the supposed criminal/detective line. I like this show because it doesn't seem to be in a hurry to take the viewer on some thrill ride. Instead it quietly and subtely explores the lives and careers of these Baltimore detectives and drug dealers. This show is a great find.

Whenever I get ridiculously busy, I begin to feel the urge to create. I don't know what equation of circumstances brings this about, but I am feeling the need to create. Perhaps it is that teaching is inherently creative so that its process ignites that aspect of me. Nevertheless, I've been in contact with the lead singer of one of my favorite local bands who says he knows some folks looking for a drummer. For now I will nible at the prospects. I hate it that I am always talking of these things and there never seems to be much follow through.

Lately I've been doing a weekly gig that pays a little extra cash. At first I only saw it as that, but playing drums in this quiet setting is really turning out to be a learning opportunity. I've been playing soley with brushes which turns out to be complex and dynamic. I'm having a great time playing a three-piece kit with only a hi-hat and ride. It always comes back to the three-piece kit for me.

Meanwhile, I've been listening to the songs from Jeff Tweedy's solo DVD "Sunken Treasure," Grizzly Bear, John Vanderslice, and via Nartan's Top Fiver post I've been getting back into Randy Newman.