Copper Sails is the new sound for old school rock

Hiding Place by Virginia-based band Copper Sails brings the tangible sound that rock and roll has desperately been searching for. Listening to Copper Sails, you hear a cross of Switchfoot and Three Doors Down that swirls into the delight of rock and pop fans.


The first song on Hiding Place, which also happens to be the title track, forces a smile with its catchy beat and even catchier lyrics. “This is my hiding place,” declares lead singer Boomer Muth, but there is no hiding from the fact that the album is already off to a good start. On “Nobody Move”, quite possibly the most addictive song on Hiding Place, Copper Sails rely on overlapping vocal tricks and a stirring guitar sound to create a sing along song that makes you want to turn up the volume in your car.


While listening to tracks such as “Fool”, “Spinning”, and “Sleeping Giant” Jonathan Crawley plays the guitar with a hint of U2’s The Edge behind it. The electric echoes in the background bring a nostalgic appreciation to the new rock sound of Copper Sails. Crawley, and Jim Courtney provide superb back-up vocals to make a perfect harmony on tracks like “Reckless Motorist” and “Morning Comes Too Early”.
At some points in the album, the songwriting takes a rather non-sequitur turn in “Orange Peel” with lyrics like, “For each one that I see/is half a fool they want to be/picking through your meal/as if it was an orange peel.” However, the band jumps right back into their brilliance to continue on with the rest of the album.


In a world where studio sampling and voice-overs are controlling the radio dial, music lovers everywhere are thirsting for something true. Copper Sails is dynamic, and delivers a refreshing cocktail of one part rock, one part pop, garnished with unmistakable talent with Hiding Place. This is one band to keep an eye on and one album to make part of your collection for real music has found its way back onto the scene.


But that's just This Girl talking...

The waste of space that is American Idol

Ok. Let's be honest. Is there anything actually worse than American Idol? Now, I understand this is a family show and with the likes of Rock of Love and Nip/Tuck on TV, it's hard to find fun time programming for the little ones. However, this show is just terrible. And This Girl, is about to tell you why.

First off, it's humiliating to all those poor souls who think that they really can sing Edwin McCain songs better than the man himself. If I have to hear 'I'll Be' one more time, I'm going to start convulsing and spouting off lines from Dawson's Creek. There are some fools on the show who try to get their 15 minutes of William Hung fame by pretending that they are trying to sing, all the while knowing that Bananas the Chimp from the zoo has a better chance of making the show. But for arguments sake, let's say that the poor kid actually thinks that just because you know all the words it automatically makes you a good singer is seriously trying out. Do they have to show it on prime time? Is this what good TV is in today's world? Watching three, now four, judges curl the upper lip and use the word atrocious in every other sentence is not real. It's a cop out for those who have brains.

So when it gets announced that the Mariah Carey wannabe is going to Hollywood, nothing short of an epileptic seizure happens. The shaking, crying, foaming at the mouth...and now enough about the parents reactions, the kids are pretty excited, too! They have to know that they are getting makeovers on the show because no one in their right mind would show up for an audition with blue hair, a shirt with shoulder pads, leg/arm/wrist or any other kind of warmer, and furry boots. I'm sorry but it just wouldn't happen. Did they not get the 'it's proper to look professional' memo? I mean come on, do you really think you'll be taken seriously with a t-shirt that says 'Simon I will be Forever Your Girl' on it? The correct answer for any of those who have lost brain cells due to watching the show, is no.

Now we get to Hollywood, and all the choreographed riff raff start scrambling around the stage and trying to find out which is their better angle for TV. It doesn't really matter in the end because 9/10 of the contestants will get up there and sing their heart out, only to be told it was 'pitchy'. Whatever the hell that is. Nevertheless, it has ended up in modern day vernacular along with 'bootylicious'. I will tell you right now how every episode is going to go. Simon won't smile, Paula won't STOP smiling, Randy won't ever look directly at the contestant, and the new girl, well, she might just get fired for being worthless. After a few months of this endless cycle, the group is narrowed down to two singers. One is usually some crooner that the moms love, and the other is a wanna be pop sensation that the kids love. It never really matters who wins because both will get a record deal and the grand prize might as well be null and void.

Before you start throwing sharp objects my way, I'm not saying there aren't talented individuals to come from American Idol. Daughtry is pretty much a solid rock star with real talent, Jordin Sparks seems to be the real deal, and Leona Lewis who won Britain's version Pop Idol is a knockout sensation. I mean come on, have you heard her version of Run by Snow Patrol? It is the only remake from a pop star that I can say even competes with the perfection of the original. If you don't believe me then look up the live performance of the song on youtube, the one she did on Pop Idol. It will bring you to tears. But all in all, where have all the other great voices of our time(aka: Rueben Studdard, Fantasia, the grey haired one) gone? They wafted away on a cloud wondering how it's possible that Bo Bice made more money than them.

American Idol is mindless television at it's best. There is no substance and the only saving grace is that it introduces songs to a whole new genre of young music lovers, enticing them to look up the original on iTunes and decide that it's way better than what David Cook did on last night's episode. Stations would be better off going back to old school talent shows like Star Search, where the talent is pre-screened before hitting the stage. Please don't make us suffer anymore.

There is a reason I haven't even touched on Ryan Seacrest. I can't think about him for more than a minute and a half without throwing something and I happen to like my laptop.

And for the haters who want to know why such an Anti-American Idol fan knows all the names to contestants? My mom watches the show. So there.


But that's just This Girl talking...

Coffee shops serve up more than than espresso these days

Ever since Phoebe serenaded her Friends at Central Perk with ‘Smelly Cat’, coffee shops and live music have gone hand in hand. Locally owned coffee shops such as Danneman’s, Aurora, Java Monkey, and Kavarna with their eclectic aesthetics and local musical acts bring a welcome reprieve to a city saturated with Starbuck’s. Coffee house performance spaces are making a comeback on the scene, especially with the increasing popularity of singer/songwriter and folk music. People can see true talent in a small venue and enjoy a chai tea and biscotti with their friends all in their own backyard. Areas such as Decatur, Virginia-Highlands, and the Old Fourth Ward are where many of these cafes call home.

“People just kind of come in and ask to play,” says Kate Pedrick, owner of Danneman’s Coffee in the Old Fourth Ward. “We don’t have a regular schedule of artists, but we do host several events such as Painters and Poets, Tango lessons on the first and third of every month, and Sunday Dinner.” explains Pedrick while making a latte. Sunday Dinner is like a jam session for local DJ’s, where they mix and sample their own, and each other’s, music.

“You’ll just be downstairs [during Painters and Poets] and all of a sudden you’ll hear this loud cheering from upstairs. It’s pretty crazy.” Pedrick says with a smile.

Danneman’s, a renovated old grocery store, has two levels. The Downstairs is a cozy space with couches and a few high top tables, while The Upstairs is where musicians take the stage on the charmingly worn hardwood floors. They even recently hosted a CitySearch event where Missy Gossip & the Secret Keepers was the in-house headliner.

While some places stick strictly to drip coffee and cappuccinos, others such as Kavarna in Decatur offer up friendly baristas, an expanded food menu, and a large selection of beer and wine when just a simple cup of joe won’t do. The stage in the front corner is large and inviting to any artist who is lucky enough to play on the Thursday, Friday, or Saturday nights that the shop hosts entertainment. The art on the walls is a visual seizure, and will inspire even the most tone deaf and lyrically challenged shower singer to grab a guitar and take the stage.

As the days go on, every Atlanta neighborhood will surely have their share of quirky coffee houses with brilliant musical acts. The symbiotic relationship between musicians and coffee houses is strong and will only increase as performance spaces are being factored into the renovations of old buildings, and artists are being booked for bi-monthly or weekly appearances. In the end, everybody wins as local business stay busy, local artists gain new fans, and coffee shop patrons satisfy not just their caffeine fix, but enjoy a tasty treat for their musical sweet tooth.


But that's just This Girl talking...

Back to square one...

So This Girl got some disturbing news yesterday. The magazine that I write for, Performer Magazine, is just another casualty of the failing economy. I received an e-mail yesterday stating the Performer will no longer exist in the southeast, which means that I am now writing for no one. This does not bode well for my dream of becoming a music journalist, you see. I have thought of my options, contacted a few people, and am not above grovelling to anyone reading this to give me a shot at writing for you. I will accept payment in dollars, Moe's lunches, or hugs. I was supposed to review a show last night and needless to say that didn't happen. I am keeping my fingers crossed that over the next year as things bottom out and then start back uphill in our economy, I will find something or somebody who needs a talented and enthusiastic writer (me for all those wondering) for their publication. Help!

But that's just This Girl talking...

The greatest band you've never heard of

There are good bands that you have heard of, maybe have one or two of their songs on your iPods; Oasis, Snow Patrol, Linkin Park. Then there are the legendary bands that is a staple on everyone's playlist; U2, The Beatles, Led Zepplin. But what about those bands, the ones that are just as good the first time you hear them as the hundredth time? These are the bands that not everyone has heard of, or even heard on the radio, or even heard at all. These are the bands that are specific to the person who hears it, who makes a judgement whether it's good or bad, if they choose to play the CD or skip to the next. I am here to tell you of your new favorite band, and is the greatest band that you've never heard of: Dayroom.

Dayroom is a funky but softer alt rock band that formed and based themselves out of the college town of Athens, GA in the 90's. Unless you attended a southeastern college during the last decade you most likely do not recognize the line "Come over anytime/We'll open a bottle of cheap wine/Wake up stinking like a wild Irish Rose." I can tell you that this line from Dayroom's most famous song, Cheap Wine, made every college co-ed and frat boy alike line up at the drive-thru of Sam's Package and order bottles upon bottles of Boone's Farm to drink at their apartment before hitting the bars while listening to the catchy tune. The song comes from their second studio album Contagious, which is also host to several other ditties with ridiculous lyrics like "I keep getting older and you keep looking like death warmed over." from Wait a Minute or "Turn the key and push the gas/It's time you move your ass/I've got no time to waste/Your shitty little car's gonna make me late." on Time Bomb where the driver seems to be possessed with a nasty bout of road rage for 6 minutes and 58 seconds.

From the time you listen to the title track, Contagious, you are hooked by the voice of lead singer Michael Winger, who sounds as if he is singing through his teeth in anger, but it comes out like he's having the time of his life. Backup keyboards and an almost whiney guitar keep the song moving and really set the tone for the rest of the album. It is next to impossible to listen to Contagious without getting out of your seat and moving around, or even just crack a smile and burst into laughter. The songs are so catchy and Winger sounds like he's having so much fun singing them that you can't wait to relisten to the lyrics just so you can memorize them and join in the party. As the album continues, there are more than a few references to sex and nighttime fun with tracks like Lying Awake and Come on Over which act as tantric foreplay to the climax of Contagious. It makes you wonder if the songs are about and particular girl or if the band just needed to get laid. Either way, the songs work and put the finishing touches on a superb breakthrough album.

They say it's better to go out on top, and with Dayroom's third and final studio album Better Days, they did just that. The beginning is absolute perfection with Winger's guitar riff and inviting lyrics "Come in and sit down for a while/Come in and I'll sing you a lullaby," in Not Enough. The title track is the type of song that starts a little soft but explodes towards the end and is guaranteed to have you singing at the top of your lungs in your car. This album has a little more depth to it than Contagious, with a few more ballad-type songs and a little less sexual inuendo. There is even a full out love song with Till I Die, which was written for a band member's finace. Keyboardist James Riddle takes his turn on the mic on Condo with a piano led chorus that states, "I eat my soul food from a can/This world is small and it's all in our hands." It's non-sequitors like this that add to Dayroom's charm. They use background noises like car horns, house keys, and even a hint of R2D2 from Star Wars in their songs and this creates an atmosphere of good times with good friends and good drinks.

Crazy is addictive with a sharp chorus of "Bang! Bang!/Slam the door!/It's quarter to 4!/It's time to go to sleep!/I guess I'll sleep on the floor." Are they sending a message to the college students of UGA in Athens, or just merely repeating a story after a night out with the boys? Crazy is to Better Days what Cheap Wine is to Contagious. Finishing with an acoustic sounding Maybe is a genius set-up to the last track Postcards From a Midwestern Salesman. It's like the band knew this was their last album and were waving goodbye with an encore to finish their 8 year career. If Dayroom welcomed you to come in and sit down for a while, then they wish you farewell with "So I get up/It's time to wake up and leave/I put my bag on my back and my heart on my sleeve/I head out the door/And know what I left behind me."

Dayroom is by far one of the most talented bands of the 90's, even if they didn't really leave the CD players of college students from UGA. Their albums can still be found for sale online, and are contributors to many complation albums out of Athens. They can even be found on myspace, even if the members disbanded in 2000, only to reunite once in 2001 for a sold out show at the Georgia Theater (I was there and it was absolutely electric). I suggest buying the albums and use your time stuck in traffic to your advantage: have some fun singing along to Dayroom, the greatest band you've never heard of.

But that's just This Girl talking...

First Publication!

So as This Girl tries to break into the world of music journalism, I use my spare time to write reviews and articles for a local magazine called Performer Magazine. Excitingly enough, I just got published! It's my first time being published in any public publication and I'm super stoked about it. In case anyone was wondering, you can find my TWO live reviews at http://www.performermag.com/sep.livereviews.0811.php.

I would like to give a shout out to the The Stud Asian (he doesn't like That Guy) as he has been at every concert I attend. And If I didn't he'd kill me so there. ;) I have done more work for Performer and hopefully there is more to come, but again, for my 3 fans out there, here you go. Let's just keep our fingers crossed that I will someday get paid for this... :) Enjoy!

But that's just This Girl talking...

Coldplay brings the heat to Phillips Arena

So this is going to be a bit more of an informal blog. This Girl has had her FIRST request for more blogs from her fans (Thanks Chicago!), and by fans I mean the 3 people who read this thing. So I'm going to start a few more off the cuff and unedited pieces, but of course they'll stay in the unending theme of the endless possibilities of music.

So this past Wednesday night, This Girl attended the first of two Coldplay shows in Atlanta. Now, I am not the biggest Coldplay fan the begin with. Yellow was good, but as the songs and albums continued, I felt as if everytime I heard a song they were trying to put me under some sort of spell or play strange mind games, Clockwork Orange-style. As soon as Brian Eno, the world famous producer-maybe you've heard of U2's The Joshua Tree-and musician took the reigns of Coldplay's newest album Viva la Vida (Death and All of His Friends) they were reincarnated as the band who released one of This Girl's favorite albums of the year.

As I listened to the Viva la Vida on my iPod, in my car, and at my home, I realized that these celestial songs must be heard live and in person. I convinced my concert buddy, who wants to be refered to as The Hot Asian but I'll just call him That Guy, to get bad seats and go anyway. As we sat in the very back of Phillips Arena waiting for Chris Martin and the boys to appear, I couldn't help but get caught in the anticipation of what the new sound of Coldplay would be to my senses. I say senses, because (lame-o alert!) I watch shows with every sense I have. Good music has the ability to speak to your ears like a lover, visually stimulate like the Northern Lights, create an aroma of hard work and sweat, make you physically feel each note and word throughout your entire body, and bake the sweetest treat on your tounge as you sing along. Money is wasted and time is spent better elsewhere if these guidelines are not met at each show. But I digress....

Coldplay appeared to a darkened stage and opened with the instrumental first song on Viva, and then launched with everything they had into Violet Hill, my personal favorite. The roars of Chris Martin's voice, the heavy banging of the drums, and the intensity of the guitars came through with every breath the band took, and the laser lights that accompanied created the feeling of climbing through a dark forest and up a hill to the top. All while broken and battered, parched, with nothing but sheer will driving you upwards. The song climaxes 10 seconds before its' end, just like as if you used every last bit of strength you had to pull to the top of a mountain, only to lay down and rest as soon as you reached the summit. Even though it was at the beginning, this song was the best part of the show.

As the minutes went on, Coldplay played most of their new stuff, and all of their old favorites. Chris Martin's stage presence is nothing if not spectacular. He moves around the stage with every beat and bangs on the piano like he doesn't have a microphone and needs everyone in the arena to hear it. He throws himself on the ground, contorts his body in ways that you just can't choreograph. The drummer is so intense that he doesn't even look at the drum set througout most of the show, but plays by instinct and repetition of the songs he clearly loves. The boys who play the guitar seem to not even notice the crowd as they swayed with each strum and put all them had into each song. Coldplay is obviously grateful for all their fans, and clearly wants to provide an unforgettable show to each of them.

Fix You was a fan favorite, and to end with Viva la Vida was absolutely genius. That Guy had not heard most of their new songs, so he spent most of the time trying to appreciate the newer sound, and I think that hurt him in the long run. I have had a few months to get acquainted with Viva and wasn't spending the entire night determining whether I like the new songs or not. I will suggest that anyone seeing a Coldplay show to introduce themselves to Viva, because the live show is definitely worth money spent.

Stay tuned for many more reviews and roughly unedited blogs. This Girl and That Guy attend on average one show a week and to keep my fans happy, I will be abiding by their rules.


But that's just This Girl talking...