Review: Endless Mike and the Beagle Club - We Are Still At War

It's well-worn ground for a music writer (if I may so liberally self-apply the term) to wax rhapsodic about the way things used to be. Music might not have actually sounded better then, but it's hard to argue against the fact that music does not currently steer the zeitgeist in the same way that it did before cell phones, the Internet, and Uggs.

I'd like to think that high school kids still put on headphones and pore over lyrics inserts as they play through a new record by their favorite band for the first time, the way I know at least a few of us used to. I'd love to think that favorite records still earn the honor over time, as they continue to reveal themselves. And oh, how wonderful it would be to believe that if an artist as vital as Springsteen were to start playing in bars today, everyone would eventually know about it. But times have changed, and all those wistful thoughts and $5 will move you 40 miles down the highway, if you're lucky.

With the release of We Are Still At War, Endless Mike and the Beagle Club have sent their best material to date, recorded live and raw, out into the world to be judged. The band has never been bigger (or louder), and Mike's writing has never been better. A quick perusal of the lyrics reveals gems like this from "Back Into Eden" (which you can stream here):

a stop sign that died in the middle of the street
was a hit and run victim of a patron of irony
lying there waiting for somebody else
to watch over the people who can't stop themselves
does that move you to move or call you to stall?
we all see what we want to in signs after all.

Songs like "Fifty-Six" and "Heavy Handed" continue to get better every time I play them (which is every Goddamn time I get in my car), and the former might be the pinnacle of Mike's writing to date. The 1-2-3 punch of "The Incline of Western Civilazation" --> "Spy vs. Spy" --> "Back Into Eden" is unmatched in any other song sequence I've come across this year.

Still, I'm not sure I'd recommend this record as a starting point to someone that's never heard my favorite band before (that'd still have to be The Husky Tenor). The problem is, when a 19 member band gets a good head of steam behind it, it takes a lot to slow it down. Mike's vocals, which carry those poignant lyrics, can't always cut through the wall of sound.

It should come as no surprise to anyone that's seen The Beagle Club perform before that an album recorded live by all 19 members would be both beautiful and cacophonous, full of before-take chatter, misplayed notes, and the embodiment of Fun and the Punk Rock Ethos. Nor should it raise the eyebrows of anyone who's met the band that they co-wrote and performed it in an abandoned warehouse cum art space in a chaotic fury of creation and sweat. I would make the argument that it was the only way this album could have been made, and it's why it's my favorite offering from them thus far.

Though three of the most lovable things about this band -- Mike's writing, the double-digit collective that is The Beagle Club, and their DIY ethic -- at times clash in WASAW, the result isn't a dud of a record, it's just a higher barrier of entry than I think many people afford music these days. It really needs to be absorbed through headphones the first time through, with lyric sheet in hand. It really needs to be played over and over, as it continues to reveal itself with each spin. It's an anachronism, it's too good for this day and age.

If music -- nay, if rock and roll -- still means as much to you now as it did to you then, you owe it to yourself to let The Beagle Club remind you why you ever started liking it in the first place.

We Are Still At War is available for purchase at craftyrecords.net. Or you could just go to a show and buy it there. Songs from the record can be streamed here and here.

We Are Still At War

Endless Mike and the Beagle Club announced today that they will begin selling their new record, We Are Still At War tomorrow, May 20th, at craftyrecords.net.

The record was written, arranged, and recorded (live) in a collaborative effort by all fifteen members of the band. Head over to myspace.com/beagleclub to listen to the two new songs that have already been posted: "The Market" and "Bavis the Baby Davis."

A few things:

1. HOLY SHIT YES KAPOWIE!
2. Nice move announcing it the day before release. Verrrry savvy.
3. It's cool when records sound like a band sounds live. Can't get any closer to it than recording it live. This record should probably be listened to loudly.

I'll be ordering this tomorrow. You oughtta do the same.

UPDATE: It's a pre-order, shipping around June 2nd. I got a little carried away there without knowing all the details. Still, I'm unbelievably psyched for this. There are a few more songs ("Back Into Eden," "The Pennsylvania Long Goodbye") streaming now here.

Endless Mike and The Beagle Club interview posted at Amie Street

This interview has been in the can for weeks, and I've been dying to share it for just as long, but it was done with Amie Street in mind, and I've had to wait for a few things to fall into place to get it posted. Regardless, I'm extremely excited to point you to it now, because I think Mike really accomplishes something I've been woefully incapable of accomplishing myself: he spells out, rather concisely, some of the things that I love most about this band.

Excerpt below...full text over at Amie Street. While you're over there, why not sign up and download some music?

Amie Street: When you started this band, it was little more than a loose collection of friends. People played what they knew on whatever instrument they could, when their schedules permitted. From then to now, what's changed and what's stayed the same?

Mike Miller: it used to be easier to look at it like it was just one guy's band, meaning me. i guess i was the only one really "in" it at first. everyone else was only in the band while they were playing. now, it makes more sense to say that we're all in it, even when we're not all playing. there are close to 20 of us who do this these days. we don't all play the same show, of course. when we leave for tour on saturday, we'll be a seven piece. but that won't mean that the other thirteen people aren't in the band. they're just not there that night. i don't know exactly when or how that shift was made, but i know that it did, and i can't imagine thinking about it any other way now. but it's still somehow managed to keep it loose enough so that no one feels obligated. to us, it just seems unnatural to have to play in a band the same way you have to go to work or go to school - with a bunch of rules and times and all that stuff. a lot of bands can work that way, but i don't think i could ever do that.

AS: I've heard you say before that The Beagle Club's guiding principle was that anything "uncool" should be avoided at all costs. What effect does consciously avoiding uncool things have on life in a band? Shouldn't every band work the same way?

MM: most bands probably do work that way. but it gets tricky when you think about the fact that there is a difference between "not doing something because it's uncool" and "doing something because it IS cool," you know? and it's just our interpretation of what's "uncool" that we're going by. it's not about pandering or endearing ourselves to someone else's expectations. it's just about a set of principles that i noticed and related to and respected back when i first got into music that mattered to me, especially punk rock.

there's this really weird objective point of view that runs through this band for all of us. it's very strange. there are times when it feels like we're just a bunch of kids having a sing along, like when you'd go to a party and an impromtu "weezer cover band" would start up, just because everyone knows how to play those songs. so, it doesn't even have to be all that much of a conscious decision, honestly. i don't know quite how to say what's "uncool" and what isn't, but i guess it's sort of like the supreme court's definition of pornography: i know it when i see it. we're never ever ever trying to be cool to someone else, just not uncool to ourselves.

AS: Tell us a little bit about Johnstown, PA.

MM: johnstown, pa used to be a big steel city, like most of western PA. it was at one time on a nazi hit list of places to bomb in order to cripple american economy, so it used to be a very big deal in that regard. it's still a city. the mills are still here. they just kind of sit, though. my friend jacob koestler is working on what will be an amazing book of photography about the correlation between that sort of working-class, blue collar ethic that our parents instilled in us and how it still comes into the lives and methods of the artists who work here now. the city was still booming back in the late seventies/early eighties, but all we have to go on is stories we've heard and old run-down buildings. but it's beautiful to me, and to all of us, and it's my favorite place i've ever seen in this world. and good things are happening here as far as art and music goes. there's a new artspace/warehouse opening up, great new bands that truly sound like they're from here are starting to make some really great music, and a lot of the older "scene" kids who moved away for college are coming back now that they're done with school. we all keep joking about what we're calling the "johnstown renassiance," but in all honesty, i think we're all only kind of kidding. things feel good around here, even though it's starting to get cold at nights again.

AS: What are some of the less obvious difficulties of a DIY approach to rock and roll?

MM: i honestly believe that the DIY approach is the only way to do it. nothing else makes sense. the difficulties that come to mind right away are things like filling in every date of a tour, getting time off of work and still having enough money to do whatever you have to do, having a van that works, getting gas money for show to show transports, all stuff that wouldn't be difficult with a big label, or a big hype machine, or a booking agent. all that "uncool" stuff, really! but i love every part of it and i wouldn't want it any other way and i honestly don't think it's all that difficult. it just is what it is, i guess.

AS: What is the single most rewarding thing about being in THIS band?

MM: for me, the most rewarding thing about it is just how naturally and easily it all comes together. we never practice, but we always sound perfect to me. and when we write songs, they come together pretty quickly, like it's just what it sounds like whenever this group of people make music, without even trying to make it sound like anything in particular. it works that way when i write the words, too, like it just comes easily at this point. it makes me feel like it's what i'm supposed to be doing as an artist, like i've finally found a voice and a place, and that's the most rewarding thing i can think of, period. sometimes it seems like everything in society is working against the people who have to live in it. like money and government and work and all that is doing everything it can to keep someone from finding their voice or finding their place. so it's pretty rewarding to have something that makes you feel like you beat the system in some small way. small to anyone else, that is. to us, it's the whole world. and that's what music was to me when i first started to get into it, and that's even more the case for me these days.

Endless Mike and the Beagle Club, Drew & the Medicinal Pen - Brooklyn Tea Party, 11/25/07

The Brooklyn Tea Party is located at 175 Stockholm St. in Bushwick, Brooklyn, in the Tea Factory Building. We are four people and one cat. All of the people make music. The cat is a cat. We do shows for our friends in the city and from out of town, fun get-togethers for people we love and respect. We can't make you famous, but we can share our warmth with you. All shows at our house cost $3-5 for touring bands and general upkeep. Here are some ground rules we'd like you to follow at shows:
1. Pay the Bands
2. Respect Chuck Noblitt
3. Don't drink what you didn't buy (w/o asking)
4. Smoke on the roof, drink in the house
5. Don't fuck up our stuff (materialist as it may seem, we like our house and we like having shows, and would hate to not have either).

[myspace.com/brooklynteaparty]

I wish I had more self control in metering out lavish praise. I wish I had the foresight to hold back and just say something is good, not always great. That way, I'd have a better arsenal of words with which to call your attention to something really special, when something special comes around. What I'm saying, I guess, is that I wish I had a bunker-buster to cut through the 30 feet of concrete bullshit you've already come across on the Internet today, and tell you (again and again) that if Endless Mike and the Beagle Club aren't on your radar, you need to turn in your Rad Club card immediately. I wish that you could have been where I was Sunday night. I wish you could have seen what I saw.

The Brooklyn Tea Party (as you've probably surmised) is a loft. People live in it. There are beds and a kitchen, and it smells sweat, beer, and hot soup. As is the nature of a loft, it has high ceilings. But the bedrooms have low ceilings, a few feet lower than the real ceiling, so guests can climb ladders to sit on the roofs of the bedrooms for better views of the permanently installed stage. It's super cool and you absolutely must check it out.

Endless Mike and the Beagle Club played 3 new songs that night, 2 of which I can remember the name of, all 3 of which were excellent. This is the part I was talking about above with the whole bunker-buster thing. There were lyrical moments in both "Oxygen Tank" and "56" that floored me. I wish that in describing them, I could pay that flooring forward. But I can't. So I'll just ask you to please remember that I told you so when you get your chance to hear this stuff next year. The other new song was much louder and the PA couldn't hang tough enough with the guitar amps, so I couldn't hear the words. It definitely rocked though.

God, this band is so good. They're so good that I can't even write intelligently about them. This is all blah, blah, blah. Oh, here's something! Johnstown, PA's My Idea Of Fun artist collective has a great recording of the endless Mike Miller playing all of The Husky Tenor solo with an acoustic guitar. It's a cool take on a great record, and you can download it for free here. It's called Endless Mike vs. The Beagle Club.

Anyway...

As has become the custom when The Beagle Club plays Brooklyn, Drew & the Medicinal Pen was on hand as well. With the exception of "Hole in my Sail," his set was entirely new to me. And not just because of the new songs, but because this show was only the 2nd show he played with his new band. Dream, Dream, Fail, Repeat hasn't left heavy rotation around here since I got my hands on it, but having now sampled some of what might comprise Drew & the Medicinal Pen's future recorded output, I'm already chomping at the bit for a follow-up.


Addendum: there's a girl named Kathleen who calls herself boy, who started playing right after I showed up at the loft. She made everyone stand up, pack around her real close in the center of the room, and proceeded to coax people into singing along to songs they'd (or at least I'd) never heard before. There's a video of her performing somewhere else for many less people embedded below, but it loses something in the not-being-there. Check out some more produced stuff on her myspace to get a better idea of what she's capable of. And check out the guest vocal on "Feathers."

Another Addendum: Brook Pridemore played as well that night, but because it was getting late and the crowd was staying noisy, he played on the roof. I opted out of the open air finale, mostly because I think I have pneumonia. I like his stuff too, though.

This Sunday night.

Click the poster to enlarge, but here's the pertinent info:

Sunday, 11/25.
175 Stockholm Street, Brooklyn.
6pm.
Endless Mike and the Beagle Club
Drew and the Medicinal Pen
Naughty Naughty Nurses
Brook Pridemore

Not even Halo 3 will be able to keep me away from this party. You should think hard about coming along as well.

Endless Mike and The Beagle Club apologize for no reason, tease about new material

Mike Miller told me once that one of The Beagle Club's missions was to avoid doing "uncool" things. To try to always see the band, no matter how big or how small, as a fan might see it, and not to ever do anything a fan might perceive to be lame. He reiterates this conviction in a comment below this post, but he did in fact say the exact same thing to me years ago. I mention this because I consider it proof of his integrity: Mike's avoidance of the uncool was then and is now a defining aspect of his character, and I hold him in the highest regard.

A decision has been made to turn over the task of cranking out copies of The Husky Tenor (the contents of which I disected here) to the very-not-uncool Crafty Records. A record yet to be named will be released on the same label sometime in 2008(!!!). You can read Mike's whole post about the deal and the circumstances surrounding it here. While I really respect his unwavering desire to keep his fans informed and feeling good about the band, I'm sorta surprised at the apologetic tone. It's not like Rick Rubin is producing the new record.

Look at Crafty's site. Seriously, look at it. Does that smell like selling out to you?

Is the fan a distraction?

Got an instant message last night from Brandon Locher, drummer for Elementary Thought Process, contributing member of The Beagle Club, artist, and most relevant to this post, proprietor of My Idea of Fun Records. When Brandon says to check something out, I always do. He's a trustworthy guy.

Siamese Dream - 1 was written and recorded within a strict 24 hour window. As such, it's more of an archived piece of performance art than a proper album. But it's got some really fun alt-pop moments anyway.

I recommend listening to the whole thing in one sitting because that's the best way to listen to anything (look, I don't presume to know you, but something tells me if you've got time to be reading this blog, you've got 15 minutes to listen to the whole thing). But if you've only got a minute or two, at least check out the first track for a taste of how good these guys are, and the fourth one for a song about rainbows and boners.

More on Brandon's stuff when I have the time...

Neil Haverty on the Toronto music scene

I'd like to reprint for you here something Lefsetz reprinted over the weekend in one of his emails that doesn't seem to have made it into his actual archives. It's an email from Neil Haverty (listen to "The Caged Bird," it's beautiful), who plays also in Bruce Peninsula.

I've often marveled when talking about artists from Toronto at how interwoven and robust the scene there must be that everyone seems to makes guest appearances on everyone else's records. Neil's email is an inside look at exactly how vibrant the Toronto independent music scene really is.

It got me really excited.

I've been meaning to write you for a while but only found some time today. I'm at work and everybody else is in meetings so I'm stealing time to do what I want. I'm a musician living in Toronto, trying to balance a full-time job with an obsession with music. This is pretty common practice for me and a lot of folks I know. We all spend 40 hours a week doing jobs that we don't care too much about, dreaming of the whistle at the end of the day when we can go home and create. Nobody I know considers working a day job to be a hold-over before we get rich and famous (as I'm sure a lot of musicians do); most of us have come to terms with the fact that this is the way its going to be for the rest of our lives. And I think, for the most part, we're all okay with that.

I would never assume that we were the only ones who felt this way but I can say that I feel Toronto has a pretty unique thing going on. Let me give you a little background on what it's like to play music here...

This city has experienced a cultural renaissance over the last few years and, even though I only moved here in 1999 and am by no means an authority, it's generally agreed that Toronto's music scene has never been as healthy as it is now. I'm not talking about Nu-Metal bands playing for a line of teenagers at the Reverb. I'm not talking about shined-up rockers who brag about the A&R reps that were at their Friday night showcase at the Horseshoe. I'm not talking about buzz bands that swing through town for a one-off at the Phoenix. I'm talking about the real homegrown community that exists here, that peculates below the surface, sustained entirely by the people who create, contribute to and take part in it.

My introduction to this world came thanks to the Wavelength music series. As a freshly minted Torontonian, the weekly series gave me a window into what was really going on in the city. You could always count on unique and interesting bands on Sunday nights and, as time wore on, I could see what it was doing to help plant the seeds for a vibrant climate for independent music in Toronto. Partly inspired by Jonny Dovercourt and the other folks who helped kick off Wavelength, it seemed that every forward-thinking guitar player or show-goer started to try their hand at putting on shows, putting out records and generally throwing their two cents in the pile. It's continued exponentially since then and now there's almost too much to see or do in the city every week.

Labels like Blocks Recording Club and Fig Records have made it possible to work with like-minded people that live where you live, venues like Sneaky Dee's, the Boat and the Tranzac have opened their doors to the weird and wonderful underbelly, promoters/booking agents like Eric Warner, Keith Hamilton and Steve Himmelfarb have ensured that good bills are happening all the time and new series like the All Caps all-ages shows (booked by Ryan McLaren) and the Poor Pilgrim experimental weekly (booked by Matt Cully) have provided a consistent supply of amazing live music. Surrounding cities like Hamilton and Brantford have come on board too, building strong communities of their own and providing more outlets for people just like us to play.

The masses don't know about this stuff and the weekly papers only just scratch the surface of it but the people who are surrounded by it rarely think of anything else... and I think you'd be surprised how many of us there are. Shows by local bands are constantly sold-out, hand-crafted CDs are flying off the shelves at Soundscapes and Rotate This and people who just live down the street are responsible for the most important pieces in our record collections. Records by Glissandro 70, the Constantines, Rockets Red Glare, Les Mouches and many more are far more important to us then what would normally be considered a "classic" record.

Aspirations for the big-time just don't come into play. Truthfully, the real big-time seems pretty ugly to most of us. In Toronto, we aspire to impress our peers. We set up shows with our favourite local bands and try to out-do one another. Most of the people who show up in the audience are other musicians and the mutual enthusiasm for each other's work is what keeps us coming back. If we do look outside of Toronto, we look to similar communities and people around the world (something like this exists, to varying visibility, in ever city) to latch onto what we're doing and visa versa.

There's been a lot of international attention put on people like Feist, Broken Social Scene, and Final Fantasy lately but I don't think that would have happened if those people didn't get their hands dirty in this community first. Sure, a couple favourable write-ups in Eye can give way to some coverage on CBC, which can give way to a Pitchfork review (and from there, world adoration), but all of those musicians would tell you that it was the local support that truly launched them. And that's why you still see Kevin Drew or Leslie Feist or Owen Pallett at the Boat on a Friday night or watching some new band at Sneaky Dee's on a Wednesday. They know the terrain and, I think, they're just as eager to boost up Toronto as anybody still operating within it. And the cycle will continue... when the world starts talking about Jon-Rae and the River, Oh Bijou, Great Lake Swimmers or any number of local bands poised to take things to that next level, those bands aren't going to forget where they came from. In fact, they're gonna try their hardest to bring their friend's bands along for the ride.

It's this support system and overall good vibration in the city that makes it easier to play music without making tons of money. Nobody really makes any significant dollars around here, a lot of people lose some with every show, but the reaction that we receive from the crowds or the encouragement we get when somebody says "Hey, I want to help you put out a record" is more than enough.

I guess I just wanted to give you a glimpse of what's going on here, if for nothing else than the fact that it's a pretty remarkable model of where I think things could go in the music "industry". We buy locally, we go out and support our friends, we don't wait for somebody else to put things together for us, we just try it out for ourselves...

Without that, I'm sure we'd all be left wondering why we spend 40 hours at our jobs and another 40 at home recording or practicing every week. With it though, there's really no other way to live. I could work a shitty job for the rest of my life, just as long as I got to play for friends and peers in the city every few weeks.

I don't doubt that this phenomenon is happening in cities all over the world - an alternate music industry that never wanted much to do with the old model. The more that this localization and collaboration spreads, the less relevant big time marketing and publicity stunts seem to matter. I could avoid ever listening to a mainstream pop act again if I wanted to and I couldn't be more thrilled about that. I'm interested in seeing what this community and other like-minded people in suburbs and cities elsewhere have to offer and I spend my time scouring the Internet for the chance. I haven't been into an HMV in 4 or 5 years and I haven't paid $50 for a ticket to a show or a t-shirt since I was 15. It's going to stay that way and I know that there are a lot of people who have made a similar vow.

Anybody that thinks they need marketing dollars and radio plays to feel successful is missing the point entirely. To really feel like you made it, all you need is some supportive people around you and a local community that cherishes its own.

Best regards,
Neil Haverty (of Bruce Peninsula, www.bruce-peninsula.com)

PS - if I've piqued your interest about Toronto, check out these links...

Wavelength Toronto - http://www.wavelengthtoronto.com - weekly music series still going strong

Stillepost.ca - http://www.stillepost.ca - local message board, responsible for a lot of community bonding/bickering

Poor Pilgrim - http://www.myspace.com/poorpilgrim - local avant-garde music series

All Caps - http://www.allcaps.ca - all-ages show promoter Ryan McLaren

Aperture Enzyme - http://www.apertureenzyme.com - local photo galleries

Over the Top - http://www.overthetopfest.com - Eric Warner's annual music festival

Fig Records - http://www.figrecords.com - new label with lots of local releases coming up

Blocks Recording Club - http://www.blocksblocksblocks.com - well-known Toronto-loving label

The Ford Plant - http://www.thefp.ca - amazing all-ages venue in Brantford, ON

Oh Bijou - http://www.ohbijou.ca

Great Lake Swimmers - http://www.greatlakeswimmers.com

Jon-Rae and the River - http://www.theriversings.com

When I lived in Providence I witnessed something like this almost happen. For whatever reason, the critical mass required to sustain a self-supporting scene never quite materialized when I was around. But I'm liking what I saw when I went back the other week. Band Stand Live (not actually in Providence, but close enough) provides an impressive performance venue in addition to rehearsal space, and could really be the Petri Dish that finally brings the scene to life. And AS220, a non-profit community arts center located right downtown that was in danger of closing its doors when I left town seems to really be surging.

The guys in The Beagle Club get a glimmer in their eye when they talk about vocalyouth.org, which has, in various incarnations, been an online home for the Johnstown, PA scene since before every scene had a message board. Incidentally, these lyrics from Endless Mike and The Beagle Club's "Nobody Listens to the Last Song on a Compilation" ran through my head as I read Neil's letter:

I'm playing a show at home tonight
I'm friends with all the bands
The PA's too quiet to hear the words
But we all understand
We sing about what we came here for
And why we'll come here again
So pick the perfect song to end your set with...

mog.com

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Not everyone is doing it as well as Toronto yet, but you can be sure Neil's right when he suggests that small cities all across North America are experiencing similar musical renaissances. Your future favorite band is playing tonight at the KOC. With three other bands they're friends with. None of them have dollar signs in their eyes, and none of them will ever sign with a major label. You will be able to believe in them always. You will feel compelled to give them $5 for a burned CD. And you will want to tell all your friends.

Endless Mike and The Beagle Club - Goodbye Blue Monday, 3/29/07

The picture above is Davis's kickdrum on my lap. Davis plays the drums in Endless Mike and The Beagle Club (he's also produced all their records). I think I remember him telling me that what we're looking at here is an oil painting, which isn't the most acoustically sound way to decorate your kickdrum. It is, however, clearly the raddest. Anyway, when they were loading in they sorta piled up all their shit around on and around me (those tricksters) and it seemed like as good a time as any to snap a good picture of the thing. I kinda missed and didn't get the whole thing, but my photographical philosophy has always been that mediocrity is good enough. I digress.

Drew & The Medicinal Pen opened the show. Which is really just one guy named Drew H. I didn't take any pictures but here's one that I lifted from his myspace by a fellow named Will George:
Corporeally, I'm quite sure this was the same Drew H. that opened for The Beagle Club the last time I saw them at Goodbye Blue Monday. But on stage this time, despite a sound system that snapped, crackled and popped through his first song before just rolling over and giving up, he was a new man. I'll leave it at that for now because Drew just put out a 6 song cd called Dream, Dream, Fail, Repeat that I plan on writing about in the super-near future because it's very, very good. So stay tuned.
Mike doesn't actually know how to play that banjo (or so he says).

Only a six-piece this time out, Endless Mike and The Beagle Club were probably the tightest I've ever seen them that night. But my strength has never been concert reviews (especially, ironically, when I really really like them) so I'm going to tell you instead about some good news Mike had for me afterwards:

People are showing up at shows in far-away towns knowing the words to songs. Please understand how hard it is in this Tower of Babel society in which we live to rise above the din and get people's attention. There are thousands of new myspace pages, new blogs, new sources of noise popping up every single day. I have written about this band more than any other band on this blog, but I have no illusions about the size of the hill of beans that amounts to in the grand scheme of things.

For a band without a massive hype machine behind it to get the kind of traction necessary to bring people out to shows knowing lyrics, it requires a metric shit-ton of hard work, talent, and a little bit of luck.

It made me really happy to hear that it's all starting to pay off for these guys. It couldn't happen to a nicer, more genuine bunch.

Endless Mike and The Beagle Club - Mr. Miller's Opus (mp3, right click to download)
Buy The Husky Tenor here.

Goodbye Blue Monday has big ideas

Goodbye Blue Monday, one of my favorite venues in NYC (but a huge pain in the ass to get to) recently posted this message to their myspace friends:

Subject: goodbye blue monday is looking for investors with
Body: more than money.

we're looking for investors with expertise and vision who understand what we're trying to do here.
the big, virtual picture.
streaming, podcasts, live shows online, merchandise, sales and advertising.

we can't do these things with two-dollar PBRs.

this place is a setting for a lot of good stuff aside from being the coziest, naturally-sweetest sounding room in all of new york.

we're trying to build a kitchen, upgrade the backyard for summer shows and get the basement lounge and record store opened for the autumn.
we're trying to purchase the building we're located in.

there's a wealth of pics (if you don't know anything about us) on our website, as well as the press we've garnered since opening.

we're getting ready to go to blog format for the website.

interested?

you know where to find us!

here or here;
www.goodbye-blue-monday.com

please repost!! we're looking for a future here!

Sure, the neighborhood (Bushwick, in Brooklyn) isn't the easiest place to get to, but I can confirm that this place is totally worth checking out. The aforementioned $2 PBRs aside, there are a few computers set up for internet access (and free wifi if you're carrying your own), and some great acts come through, like Endless Mike and The Beagle Club (pictured above, at Goodbye Blue Monday) and Drew & The Medicinal Pen (more on both later today).

Here's to hoping they find a way to do all the cool things they want to...

(Via BV.)

Endless Mike and The Beagle Club to play Goodbye Blue Monday again

Last time Endless Mike and The Beagle Club played there it was an absolute blast. Come on down to Goodbye Blue Monday in Brooklyn this Thursday (3/29) at 9pm and see for yourself why I never shut the hell up about how good this band is. And introduce yourself...I'll buy you a beer. Hope you like PBR.

update: it was awesome. i'll write about it soon.

A late holiday present for you

God, I've been wanting to post this forever. If you've been paying attention you're quite aware of the heaping helpings of praise I'm always sending Endless Mike and The Beagle Club's way. Maybe you've muttered to yourself, consumed by frustration, "shut up and DANCE, Mikey!" not actually desiring me to cut rug, but simply exclaiming the first thing that came into your head immediately following the awareness of a dull ache that can only be eased by a groundbreakingly good track from The Husky Tenor. Well today, for you, I dance.

Endless Mike and The Beagle Club - Mr. Miller's Opus (mp3, right click to download)

This is the last track on The Husky Tenor and what I've found to be the one the people I play the record for latch onto most immediately. Imagine, as you listen, Mike playing an electric piano onstage while his 8-or-so person band mills about the stage, some sitting calmly, some pumping fists, all singing along un-mic'ed. And enjoy.

(Here are the lyrics on purevolume, where you can also stream the entire record.)

(Here is where you can buy it.)

The Husky Tenor streaming, available for preorder

Go directly to purevolume and listen to The Husky Tenor by Endless Mike and The Beagle Club. Do not pass go, do not collect $200.

And it won't ship until December 5th, but you can finally pre-order the record here.

Take a minute to clear your head.

Done?

Now listen very carefully. If you haven't already, scroll back up a tad and start listening to this record. You need to hear this record. This record is too good not to be heard. This record will change the way you think about rock and roll. You'll stop forgiving bands for making shitty albums. Because you won't have time to waste listening to sub-par material. You'll spend that time listening to The Husky Tenor instead, thank you very much.

Really. Really really. You need it. Go.

Endless Mike and The Beagle Club - Goodbye Blue Monday, 11/3/06

"Do you know what this is?"

Mike was holding a plastic dinosaur that he had found lying around somewhere inside Goodbye Blue Monday. The whole place is littered with old stuff. All of it is for sale, reportedly. None of it has price tags though. I smiled and shook his hand.

"It's a dinosaur," I said.

"Yeah, but what kind?"

Avoiding the question because I couldn't remember, I launched into a story about my childhood. "You know, when I was a kid I was convinced I wanted to be a paleontologist and when I told my first grade teacher that she had to ask me what it was."

"The exact same thing happened to me," he said. "At first I felt smart but then we did a dinosaur unit and the teacher kept singling me out, asking 'Is that right, Mike?' After everything she said. It made me feel like a freak so finally I just said 'I don't like dinosaurs anymore.' But do you want me to tell you what it is? Or will it drive you crazy that you couldn't remember?"

"It's on the tip of my tongue. But yeah, go ahead."

"Pachycephalosaurus." Not what was on the tip of my tongue. "When me and Matt were kids we were in the drug store with our grandma and we wanted to buy a book because we thought it was Godzilla but really it was about dinosaurs and that ended up being the book we used to learn to read. And I guess we just kinda kept going and going and soon enough it was paleontology text books from the library."

Mike is this easy to talk to. Like an old friend the minute he's a friend at all. And it's partly this willingness to reveal what's underneath in such detail (even when it's just dinosaur enthusiasm) that makes him the gifted songwriter that he is. I'm talking, of course, about Mike Miller, from Endless Mike and The Beagle Club (Matt, his brother, is also in the band).

We spent most of the time before the show started reading books we found on the shelf near our table (Male Sexuality, 101 Questions and Answers About Welding, etc.) and stacking cans of $2 PBR.

A guy named Drew opened the show with an acoustic guitar. He was pretty good, his myspace page doesn't really do him justice.

And then, overflowing off the stage like they often do, The Beagle Club took over. I've tried before to put the energy this band has into words and I've always failed. Maybe energy isn't even the right word. It's more of a feeling. Some members never stop dancing. And some hardly ever leave their position, sitting on the corner of the stage and playing whatever handheld percussion the song calls for. But there's a unity in the group, such that every role, from biggest to smallest, is equally dedicated to creating this experience. Endless Mike and The Beagle Club delight in blurring the line between rock concert and performance art. Anyone who has ever sat around and dreamed of being in a band has dreamed of being in a band like this one. I can't think of any band I've ever seen that's more authentic.

And the songs are just so good. God damn are they good.

The Husky Tenor, a record I've been waiting for with baited breath, is finally done and I got my hands on it Friday night. In lieu of liner notes, the package contains a six page hand-written letter from Mike. A sort of stream of consciousness about what the band means to him and about free will and decision making and it closes with an invitation to discuss it all further with Mike's email address and, if you're a fan of pen and paper, his mailing address.

I, for one, intend on writing him. And you, well you should find a way to see this band in concert. And you should order this record, which I believe will eventually be available here. And you should never ever tell me that rock and roll is dead because I will tell you exactly where it is alive and well.