Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Concert Revue- The Postal Service at the Midland

Amidst all of the ephemera in my dark-blue Scion a few choice pieces stand out. A plastic jade Budai is perched near the speedometer; serving as my own travel token. On the other side, in harmonious contrast is a dog-eared copy of an old Christmas service program nestled under stray receipts and a yellowing edition of "The Complete Franz Kafka.” Staring down into the abyss between the front seats, you'll find a National Parks stamp book safely nestled near the E-brake. There's the fraying auxiliary cord, with its tight coil slowly unwinding due to my need to soundtrack my every move. And then on the floor, riding shotgun there's the overstuffed black CD booklet. It's my compendium of indispensable music, though a few CDs have escaped deletion due to my own forgetfulness or unwillingness to part with anything. There's my copy of
Born to Run I reach for when I long to turn a late night drive into something heroic. Jay Z's The Blueprint has survived a few scrapes (falling out of my car on more than one occasion.) Bonnie Prince Billy's I See A Darkness exists to score any momentary brooding mood I find myself in. Needing the ultimate pick-me-up, I reach for Daft Punk's Discovery and float away on an ecstatic sea of electronica. There's page after page of music hiding behind weathering plastic that occupies a special place in my life, and filed away in that special place is a copy of The Postal Service's lone 2003 LP, Give Up. I reach for it as the dull murmur of my car wafts through the air. As Ben Gibbard's somnolent words of "smeared black ink," my good-friend Michael Delcau and I sojourn to the Midland Theatre in Kansas City to see the "visitor here."
The night unfolds with opener Mates of State. Playing fast and loose, the two-piece's love songs blare throughout a still filling theatre. One tender moment came when the couple encouraged the entire crowd to wish their 9 year old daughter a happy birthday. After the set ended, every minute dashing off the clock did less to inspire excitement, and instead became torturous. The smeared black ink finally covered the stage and Ben Gibbard & Jenny Lewis' crisscrossing guitar solos set the pace for the night. The bouncy verses of "We Will Become Silhouettes" tumble into a triumphant chorus; every ba-ba-ba climbing higher towards the ornate wooden roof of the Midland. 

"Sleeping In" is prefaced with an abrupt "THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENED" from Ben Gibbard. Jimmy Tamborello "The Man Behind the Beats" turn at vocals for the chorus elicited one of the most raucous applauses of the night. (Gibbard's spasmodic dancing during "Turn Around" finishes a close second.) The memory of the terse opening to the dreamy tune is instantly forgotten when Gibbard introduces "Nothing Better", "Somebody That I Used To Know" before Gotye ever put pen to paper. Tinged with just a hint of bitterness, Gibbard delivers "this song is about love in the oughts and it's a b***h." Lewis and Gibbard's delicate, yet fractious conversation is the sort the xx  has now perfected. And live, when the song is presented with Jenny Lewis' strutting a new word is appended; sultry. 

The affable romantic tale of "Clark Gable" kickstarts into high-gear with a soaring guitar part. I slot the song as my favorite among their scant discography and have found my way back to that chorus countless times. The further Gibbard clinches his teeth, the more he doggedly commits to the notion "that there is truth, that love is real."

For all the highs the performance offered this is still music reliant on a laptop, so naturally there are songs that hem close to the original. One that breaks from the fray is "This Place Is A Prison", the most welcome reinvention of the night. Gibbard's quiet desperation is stark upon the stage, bathed in blood spotlights, giving credence to the notion that home can be the most impenetrable prison of all. 

Inevitably, the time for "Such Great Heights" comes and it arrives via a seamless transition from new-cut "Tattered Line of String". The subdued immediacy of the song is even more palpable live, and a firm reminder of why the song remains one of the greatest highlights of the past decade. Cue another impeccable segue into "Natural Anthem", fast-forward through some awkward fan rubbing as Ben Gibbard enters the crow, and exit stage-left for the band. Upon return, Gibbard finally introduces the band (something he apparently hates in most cases.) Tamborello becomes a Kraftwerkian half-man-half-machine. Gibbard's pairing with Lewis? Redubbed the "Flavor Flav to her Chuck D." of course. Once the track that launched a thousand electronic "bands" ("The Dream of Evan & Chan") wisps away, the Mario-esque bleeps and bloops of "Brand New Colony" begin. The album closer offered a fresh start, even as the night came to a photo finish. When all the instrumentation collapses, the crowd's unadorned "everything will change," rings throughout the decades old venue and the crew leave the stage, this time for real. All the waiting for a second LP, for a live show, for any sign of a pulse from the Postal Service becomes a relic.    
As I leave the concert and thumb through the CDs. I find nothing to suit my fancy, and before I can hit eject, Give Up begins again. Nights like these remind why I have the albums I do and why some will never leave.



Tuesday, July 30, 2013

"Ex-To-See"- Jeremih

Following the warped R&B take "Bo Peep (Do You Right)" aided by Shlohmo's crawling drum machines and synths, Jeremih is back with another drug infused cut. The song may be a play on MDMA, though Jeremih lacks any of the energy or euphoria commonly associated with the drug. Jeremih's in classic loverman mode, creeping around at 6 in the morning and making the ascent to the Mile High club when the time is right. Despite all the concern for the carnal, the sliding synthesizer re-brands this as a never-ending mind game. By the end, Jeremih's posing questions to no one in particular, "am I out of my space, goin' down memory lane?" He claims to be in ecstasy, but the evidence says otherwise. 


Monday, July 29, 2013

What's New(s)?

Arctic Monkeys drop new track
The Arctic Monkeys fifth go-around on the LP circuit is entitled AM and it's out September 9 via Domino. To promote the record, the band has already released the stomping "Do I Wanna Know?" and the featherweight "2013" made the rounds as a leak before being taken down by BPI. Today another tune has slipped through the cracks. The unadorned "Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High?" clocks in at under three minutes and sports a plainspoken Alex Turner on lead vocals. Unfortunately that tune has also become a casualty of copyright. That said it is slated to be released as a single in August, so check back in when that moment hits.

R. Kelly tells his "story"
Not far removed from triumphant hometown show at the 2013 Pitchfork Music Festival, R. Kelly returns with the pseudo-autobiographical "My Story", set to appear on his upcoming Black Panties album. Wedding his robo-vocals to trap drums and a subtle guitar strum, Kells grows out of the "Chi-town dirt" and celebrates the wealth that his ascendancy to R&B royalty has afforded him. A fairly subdued 2 Chainz pops up to "roll like cinnamon", while searching for a co-pilot. Just another chapter to add to the audacious R&B book Kelly has authored. 


Jim James extends tour
My Morning Jacket's Jim James has added fall dates to his solo-tour in support of the meditative Regions of Sound and Light of God. Of course you can currently see him with the rest of the band on tour for the massive Americanarama with Wilco and Bob Dylan in tow. The MMJ frontman's vocals will soon be reverberating throughout the Midwest as James stops off at St. Louis' Loufest and the Telluride blues festival. Enjoy a subdued live take of album-cut "State of the Art" and check out the dates after jump. 


9/6 - Birmingham, AL - Iron City 
9/7 - St. Louis, MO - Loufest @ Forrest Park
9/8 - Madison, WI - Majestic Theatre
9/10 - Omaha, NE - Slowdown 
9/11 - Lawrence, KS - Liberty Hall 
9/12 - Tulsa, OK - Cain's Ballroom 
9/15 - Telluride, CO - Telluride Blues & Brews Festival

Check back in again tomorrow for the newest in new(s).

Friday, July 26, 2013

What's New(s)?

Honest Cowboy

MMG member and resident introspective rapper Stalley is prepping for the August 8 release of his Honest Cowboy mixtape and until that day hits, he's supplied the appropriately-named Menace II Society ode "A-Wax" (in honor of the MC Eiht portrayed character). The blustery soulful beat supplied by the Block Beattaz (sampling Wiz Khalifa) allows the Ohio-MC to indulge his inner champagne sipper, while dismissing any complacency; promising passion "bout my game like Joakim Noah." Listen to the song below and check out the promo video for the mixtape here.


Timbaland talks Nas, Drake, & Aaliyah

In an all-too-brief interview with Revolt, mega-producer Timbaland can be found giving us the inside-scoop on a whole slew of rap stories. Fresh off the success of Magna Carta...Holy Grail, Timbaland reveals he sat behind the boards for "Sinatra in the Sands", a follow-up to MCHG's "BBC". This time Nas takes top bill, backed by Justin Timberlake & Jay Z (still can't get used to not typing that hyphen). Timbaland calls Timberlake's performance on the song "completely stupid,"and says the song will appear on Nas' next album.

Timbaland also takes time-out to talk about recent reworkings of Aaliyah tunes from Drake & Chris Brown (why they can't work) and his new found appreciation for Drizzy.  Of the Toronto emcee, Timbaland guarantees "he's gonna be around for a long time."

Atoms for Peace perform "The Clock"


Tonight Atoms for Peace's residency at the London Roadhouse comes to an end and to make that departure a bit more bearable, concert-recording platform (and current "business" partner) Soundhalo has made available a clip from Wednesday night's show. "The Clock", a clattering tune from Yorke's solo The Eraser project is given more heft and immediacy here by the band's on-point percussion section and Flea's steadily moving basslines. Check out the video below and dates for AFP's fall U.S. tour after the clip. 

Sept. 24- Liacouras Center (Philadelphia, PA)
Sept. 27- Barclay's Center (New York City, NY)
Sept. 30- Patriot Center (Fairfax, VA)
Oct. 2- UIC Pavilion (Chicago, IL)
Oct. 3- The War Memorial Auditorium (Nashville, TN)
Oct. 6- Austin City Limits (Austin, TX)
Oct. 13- Austin City Limits (Austin, TX)
Oct. 16- Hollywood Bowl (Los Angeles, CA)
Oct. 17- Santa Barbara Bowl (Santa Barbara, CA)
Oct. 19/20- Treasure Island Music Festival (San Francisco, CA) 

Check back in Monday for even more in the newest in new(s).

Thursday, July 25, 2013

What's New(s)?

Versace Versace

As an added boost to his rapping status, begun on the "Oldie" posse-cut, OF-crooner Frank Ocean has posted lyrics on his Tumblr of what appears to be his own rewrite of the summer smash "Versace." "I'm wearing some Dickies, they cost 30 Euros, I'm not even into Versace," goes the final couplet. No word yet on if the song will make an official appearance anytime soon, though Ocean will be appearing at Drake's OVO Festival in Toronto next month, so we may not have to wait long.

Cults announce new album

Cults 2011 self-titled debut was an idyllic slice of 60s girl-pop with a modernist glaze and ripe-picked quotes from actual cult-leaders to circumvent the sweetness. Come October 15 the band will be back with a new take on the recipe entitled Static. Out via Columbia Records, the LP enlists the aid of Shane Stoneback (who worked on their original album) and Ben Allen (best known for doing production work with Animal Collective and Youth Lagoon). Check out a promo clip for the album here which features some gargantuan sounding 60s surf-pop.


Justin Vernon (he of Bon Iver fame) is readying his second collaborative as Volcano Choir, his experimental-pop project with fellow Wisconsin natives Collection of Colonies of Bees. In the run-up to the release of Repave, they've debuted the video for first single "Byegone." The understated grandeur of the track is reflected in the video which features numerous skyward shots of a massive tree redecorated with light bulbs. Repave is out September 3 via Jagjaguwar.

 "Hot Knife"




In the tradition of past highlights: "Paper Bag", "Fast You Can", and "Limp" Fiona Apple has re-teamed with ex-boyfriend Paul Thomas Anderson (the man most recently behind The Master and There Will Be Blood) to produce a video for The Idler Wheel... closer "Hot Knife". The stark black-and-white paneled video also features Apple's sister Maude Maggart who sung on the original tune. Just a few short months after The Idler Wheel dropped notorious recluse Apple booked it back into the shadows, so celebrate every piece of news we get.

Check back in tomorrow for the newest in new(s).

"Too Dry to Cry"- Willis Earl Beal

Willis Earl Beal excellent 2012 record Acousmatic Sorcery was an effortless mishmash of lo-fi bedroom pop, winsome folk, and visceral blues. "Everything unwinds." the first cut from sophomore release Nobody Knows. floated light as a feather into the folkie camp. Backed by an interloping synth, Beal was delicately strumming a guitar with "rust in my soul," while trying to define the mystery of the lover at the center of the unwinding spiral that has become his life. 

Any tenderness found in the song is throttled by follow-up "Too Dry to Cry" a boot-stomping, faux delta-blues number that could've been pinned in 2013 or 1927. The opening guitar figure is dripping sweat from the sweltering Mississippi sun while Beal begs the Lord to not be left "hanging like a spider with no fly." The song borders on the spiritual, but is kept out of the pearly gates by Beal's wandering eye and his "pitchfork prong." Like much of Beal's scant discography, it's a contradictory affair. His mind is on heaven, but his body's still stuck on Earth. 

Nobody knows. is scheduled for release September 10 via the XL label. Here's the tracklist:
1. Wavering Lines
2. Coming Through ft. Chan Marshall
3. Everything unwinds.
4. Burning Bridges
5. Disintegrating
6. Too Dry To Cry
7. What's The Deal?
8. Ain't Got No Love
9. White Noise
10. Hole in the Roof
11. Blue Escape
12. Nobody knows.
13. The Flow

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

"Odd Look" (Remix) ft. The Weeknd- Kavinsky

Back in February, French electronic artist Kavinsky (best known for contributing the song "Nightcall" to the Drive Soundtrack) released the sorely under-appreciated Outrun, an album long narrative of a half-man/half-machine who makes music. The album had much of the same appeal as the Drive Soundtrack itself, slinking late-night numbers riding right alongside cuts coated in 80s nostalgia. For his next trick, Kavinsky is releasing an EP of remixes of "Odd Look," which is scheduled to drop in August and features appearances by Fools Gold founder and DJ A-Trak, recent M.I.A. collaborator Surkin, and The Weeknd. Tesfaye's Jacksonesque quivering is perfect for the track's blustery electronic beat, which wouldn't have to put up much of a fight for rotation at any 80s night club. Lyrically, The Weeknd's hedonistic indulgences are as prevalent as ever, promising to put "guilt in the grin of a good girl," and consuming enough drinks to forgo any geographic knowledge. On "Nightcall" Kavinsky wanted to show you "where it's dark," with this remix The Weeknd's granted his wish.


Monday, July 22, 2013

2013 Pitchfork Music Festival

(Photo courtesy of Tonje Thilesen/ Pitchfork Media)

Day 1 of the trek into Chicago's Union Park began rather unceremoniously, wolfing down burgers at a suburban joint in Naperville and then hopping on the highway praying that somehow Second City traffic would be different that day (it wasn't). Parking (as it almost always is with concerts) was a nightmare, but my friend Adam and I managed to find a spot, and we were off to the festival. Our pace quickened when we heard the tender plucking of harp strings and Joanna Newsom's recognizable warble wafting through the night air. We carefully weaved through the crowd, but the work was for naught. We managed to catch the last half of "Sawdust & Diamonds," before Newsom bid the crowd adieu for the night. But there was still Björk to come down from on-high and salvage our waning expectations.

"Yeah, this is going to be weird," were the last words I managed to speak before Björk came out on stage. An extremely obvious statement on paper, but one you almost can't keep from uttering once Björk announces her presence on stage. The set itself was an adept mix of new and old, tracks like "One Day" from her Debut perched alongside the Tesla Coil spectacle of "Thunderbolt." An immediate highlight was "Jóga," the throat-shredding tale from Homogenic of a relationship heightened to a "state of emergency." Björk's powerhouse performance here especially masked every one of her 47 years. For all of the power a Björk concert conveys, Mother Nature is stronger still, and cut the set short after "Mutual Core." Without missing a beat, Björk put the weather panic into context, "It's calm.... I don't know. This wouldn't be much in Iceland, I can tell you that much..."

Day 2 was much less panic-stricken than Friday night's festivities. Parking was no longer an Arthurian quest and there was plenty of time to peruse the endless stacks of records available in the record tent. But there were still shows to see, so we jaunted over to the Blue stage to see Julia Holter in action. Holter's sound is impossible to pigeonhole; featuring the occasional sax squall, violin pluck, and tender piano figure, it's a yearning blend of: Grouper's quiet solitude, Joanna Newsom's whimsy, and any number of electronic influences. It was music better suited for midnight than high noon, but our premium spot under a shade tree was a welcome substitute.

Julia Holter

Next up was the fury of post-hardcore heroes ...And You Will Know Us By The Trail of Dead, which did not disappoint. The band's been blazing since 1998 and their midday performance letting everyone know the fire won't be dying any time soon. We then meandered over to see Savages, a melange of post-punk stylings and gothic overtones. After such raucous shows, refreshments were in order, and they came in the form of sweet heavenly nectar masked as lemonade. Sipping the last savory drops of sweet lemonade as we marched towards the red stage, only the bitterness was left clinging to my tongue for the start of Swans.

...And You Will Know Us By The Trail of Dead

Count the number of times you've considered the angular motions of the Breeders or the antics of ...And You'll Know Us as "peaceful melodic breaks." I'll wait. Answer?- They don't exist, unless they're acting as buffers to the aural onslaught Swans unleash. The band trots out an amp as weathered as "singer" Michael Gira's voice. A lozenge would do him some good I think during the stormy "To Be Kind," but every nicotine filled blast is a prophetic warning to be heeded. The industrious clatter of the nearby L is drowned out by the death burble of the band. The howling wind and rain give way to the laser-guided buzzsaw blasts from bassist Chris Pravdica on "Oxygen." Gira's arms flutter around the stage like an apocalyptic tornado while clarinetist/percussionist Thor Harris stabs at the drums in the manner of a musically inclined Norman Bates. In the midst of all this chaos, Gira raises his hands towards the heavens and sends his band into a further ecstatic fit; a cult-leader mixed with Carlos Kleiber if there ever was one. Phil Puleo displays a Luddite proficiency on the drums and that rampage continues throughout 2012's title cut "The Seer." Harris takes to bashing the hell out of a wood block, hoping to send it into splinters. Gira circles into an unholy trinity with the other two guitar players sacrificing everyone's ear drums in the process. Before the show began, someone in the audience yelled out "TURN IT UP!" He got his wish. 


We were fortunate enough to catch some of The Breeder's anniversary set of the still-fresh Last Splash, a welcome trip down memory lane. "Cannonball" was the entry point for so much of my current musical fascinations and to hear it razing the ground of Union Park was one of the most memorable moments of the entire festival for me. My fandom must be called into question however as we decided to push on to find the best possible spot for Solange. It was a party from the first second of the show, "Some Things Never Seem To F***ing Work" rendered joyous in a live setting. Solange effortlessly strutted and glided across the stage throughout much of the set, nostalgically urging everyone to "turn this into a high school dance." "Losing You" was prefaced by a PSA from Solange to essentially enjoy every moment of the song without any interruptions from phones or peripheral distractions. Even though it's a song I've heard countless times since its initial debut, I tend to have an adverse reaction to the subtle melancholy of the song, but that wasn't the case live. Any suggestion of a stormy was blotted out by the song's sunny groove. 


From Solange, we sought out a spot for Belle & Sebastian, sitting down and waiting for the pithy chamber popsters to announce themselves. Soon enough, Stuart Murdoch (decked out in snow-white pants) and company took to the stage, beginning with the jokey "Judy is a D*** Slap." It was steady march through the discography, stopping off at "Piazza, New York Catcher" from Dear Catastrophe Waitress and the more recent "I Can See Your Future" from 2010's Write About Love. Murdoch was affable throughout the night, labeling himself and the band "your aunties and uncles." When the rain began to fall for a second night and you could see the golden lighting shining through the droplets, the subdued "Judy and Her Dream of Horses," became transcendent. It was a moment to make anyone "smile when you're down."

Belle & Sebastian
(Photo courtesy of Pitchfork Media) 


Day 3 began with gravelly rasp of local MC, who couldn't help but grin from ear-to-ear at the prospect of being in his hometown for a show. The defining moment was "The King" as clear of a definition of Tree's self-termed soultrap genre as you're likely to find. Adam and I stayed defiantly seated at the green stage for Killer Mike, hearing only the occasional riff or joke from Foxygen over at the nearby red stage. Soon enough, the wait was over and Mr. Michael Render was raging through "Big Beast" as the crowd screamed "hardcore g-s***" right back at him. It was insightful, bracing, and at times touching, Mike tearing up before the start of one song when he spoke of a Chicago woman who inspired him to become a community organizer. "RAP Music" was the ultimate in sermonizing, as I looked around the sweat-drenched crowd, smiling faces could be found throughout. In moments like this, any facade of showmanship or posturing disappeared, and all that was left behind was one man with a microphone; tearing down the city of Chicago and then building it back up.

 Killer Mike

After one-two-gut-punch of Mike and El-P we sought refuge back in the shade of the blue stage, and got lost in the folk-informed punk of Waxahatchee. It was an assured set, without time for a pause or even applause, Katie Crutchfield ran through her set eying the prize of the finish line. There were clear fans in the audience, and anyone that wasn't was converted by the time the last chord cut through the thick air.


We crept back out from the shadows and into the sweltering heat as Yo La Tengo began. There's a reason this band is one of the most revered in all of "indie rock" and it's their insatiable appetite for innovation and invention. They traded seats and instruments early and often, and careened through a catalog stuffed with tender dream pop and droning noise rock. Ira Kaplan so barbarically mutilated his guitar throughout their performance, it was a small miracle there was anything left by the end.

Yo La Tengo

Lil B was up next and neither Adam nor I knew what to expect, other than an extremely based performance from "The Based God" himself. As his start time of 5:15 got closer and closer, a mini-panic started inside of me. "There's nothing set up on the stage," rumbled through my mind. Focusing on that conundrum was almost impossible with the screams of "swag" and "thank you Based God" that enveloped me. "How can he do a show with nothing on stage?" That question was quickly answered when Lil B walked out on stage to perhaps the most uproarious applause of the entire festival. The crowd cooked, moshed, (two people even hopped on my shoulders) and gleamed with excitement the entire time Lil B was out on stage, reverent of his every word. Picking a highlight or even naming off all the songs that were performed is an exercise in futility, similar to sifting through his seemingly infinite music library. This was a performance for the converted; those that already bask in the glow of "The Based God."

Lil B


My back was in disrepair after Lil B and the rumbling in my stomach became cacophonous so I headed back to the food tents for recovery. Finding lemonade an appropriate substitute for water, I swilled down two in quick succession. Being the boost I needed, I met back up with Adam and we began jockeying for position at the green stage for R. Kelly. We caught the back-half of Toro y Moi laid-back funkified set which had every toe-tapping and head nodding by the end. Chaz Bundick could hardly contain himself behind his keyboard, getting lost in his lush swirling grooves.

Toro y Moi

Now all that was left was the wait for Mr. R. Kelly. At various times my eyes were affixed on the stage, trying to imagine what we could expect. Even the Sri Lankan Christmas (Adam's own pitch-perfect description) of M.I.A.'s genre-defying set couldn't distract anyone over at the green stage from the impending performance. The crowd's mettle was tested when the earworm of "Paper Planes" slithered through Union Park, but some still managed to avoid shooting along with the song's now legendary chorus. After a run-through of "Bad Girls" all that was left was Kells and the crowd couldn't wait. 

The stage was meticulously assembled and just when the impatience became palpable, a robotic voice announced over the loudspeaker "R-Minus 9 minutes to show time." A collective scream broke out and the countdown was on. "R-Minus 4 minutes," and Sam Cooke's "A Change Gonna Come" begins. I'm lost in that eternal croon for a time, but snap back and check the time. "R-Minus 30 seconds," and the scream becomes a seismic roar. "10-9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1," and then "Ignition" (Remix). Kelly didn't even break a sweat during the song and moved through the iconic song like it was just another piece of ephemera. It was that kind of show. He strutted through "Hotel," reimagined "Flashing Lights" for his own purposes, had the crowd "Slow Dance"-ing, and served up "Sex in the Kitchen" while avoiding so much as a chuckle. He soundtracked himself grabbing a towel to wipe sweat off (take that South Park) and steadily scooped up the entire crowd in the palm of his hand. Kelly's silky-smooth croon became a soulful wail as the set neared the end with "When A Woman Loves." By this point, the crowd hung onto his every word, mesmerized by the unparalleled showmanship on display. One song was noticeably absent for the first hour-plus, but "I Believe I Can Fly" arrive in full-flight. The spectacle was at its apex here, Kells again backed by a gospel choir while white balloon doves shot out into the night sky. Any inclination to dismiss the song as  overly sentimental is obliterated the moment you experience it live. The perceived schmaltz is soon replaced by treatise on living life to its fullest. When someone like Kelly has this much confidence in himself, there really is "nothing to" a concert of this magnitude. 

R. Kelly

Expect updated links and photos on this page as they become available on the Festival website page. I wanted to get out an initial draft to everyone while it was still relevant.