No Hits 7.18.05

Dear Mr. Bush, There Are Over 100 Words For Shit And Only 1 For Music. Fuck You, Out Hud (mp3) - Out Hud

I wish I could provide a full report on Intonation this past weekend, but I only survived a little over three hours before succumbing to the heat. Yesterday was the hottest day in Chicago this year--97 degrees--and the sun was relentless. Not long after arriving, my friends and I took refuge under some trees closer to the perimeter of Union Park where the sound wasn't stellar, but we were less likely to collapse from heatstroke. Let the kids jockey for position in front on the stage, I say.

Of the four bands I saw--Out Hud, The Hold Steady, Andrew Bird and Deerhoof--one really impressed. Although I only caught the tail end of their set, I saw enough of Out Hud to be surprised and excited by their crazy energy. I hadn’t previously heard it in their studio recordings, so I came home, listened again and turned the sound way up. Now I get it. Certainly as good as other New York dance punk acts LCD Soundsystem, Rapture and !!!. (Out Hud shares several members with the last of these.)

Dear Mr. Bush comes from the band’s latest, Let Us Never Speak Of It Again, on Chicago’s Kranky label. I believe--but I could be wrong--that this is what Out Hud closed their set with yesterday. I won’t even attempt to comment on the title. Except for the last 30 seconds of the 11 1/2 minute track, it’s an instrumental.

More Out Hud from their first album, Street Dad:

Hair Dude, You’re Stepping On My Mystique (mp3) - Out Hud

I'm sorry I couldn't last until The Wrens and Les Savy Fav went on. I've seen The Wrens before in a club and they were awesome. So I'd be interested to hear how they held up in a 13-acre oven . . . I mean, park.

On a completely unrelated note, the music of The Smiths has been turned into a West End musical (New York Times registration required to read). Somehow this makes perfect sense.