Five Songs for Fall

I’m fortunate to live in a part of the world where we experience four distinct seasons.  Summers are comfortable – the sixteen hours of daylight is usually warm without being stifling, so you can still get to sleep at night.  Winters are fine – aside from a few nasty arctic outbreaks, the sub-zero temperatures and occasional snows are completely manageable.  Spring is awful – the pot-holed streets look like downtown Beirut, there’s garbage and dog turds poking out of snowbanks everywhere you look, and the few outdoor surfaces that happen to rise above the slimy meltwater are probably covered with snow mould.  That said, my favourite season has always been fall.

Part of the appeal of fall is that it’s like summer with less potential nuisances.  After the Labour Day long weekend, humidity is unheard of.  All it takes is a few cool nights to freeze off all the mosquitos.  Sure, it can be ten or fifteen degrees cooler than mid-July, but that’s what jackets are for.  The parks are less crowded, while the highways aren’t so jammed with broken heroes on a last-chance power drive.

Another thing that makes fall intriguing is that you’re never quite sure how long it’s going to last.  At my 53-degree latitude, fall typically lasts from the first light frost (usually in early September) until the first big snowfall (usually around Hallowe’en).  But lovely double-digit days aren’t unheard of in November… and neither is waking up to 10 cm of snow in the first week of September.  Fall is usually about eight weeks long, but any nice days after mid-October feel like gambling with house money.

Fall is probably the best season for strolling around the neighbourhood.  There’s essentially no need for sunscreen or bug spray.  Dehydration is rarely a problem, so you don’t have to lug a water bottle around with you.  On top of that, the scenery is wonderful.  Every time you set out on a walk, you’ll find that some of the foliage has changed from just a few days before.  There’s something soul-restoring about walking the trails with the muted crunch of fallen leaves underfoot and the unmistakable smell of decomposing leaves in your nostrils.

I set out for a quick spin around the neighbourhood today to test some new trail shoes I picked up in Denver.  I meant to hike briskly for an hour, but ended up clicking off 13.3 km in a little over two hours instead.  I think it was the autumnal songs that kept popping up on my iPod playlist – I was so immersed in the music that time ceased to be all that important.

To celebrate the season, here are five songs that are tailor-made for walkabouts in fall.

The Autumn Defense – “Once Around”

Frankly, pretty much anything by the Autumn Defense would make a great soundtrack for a walk in September or October.  This is the side band that was put together by John Stirratt and Pat Sansone to explore a different 1970s singer-songwriter vibe than their regular gig in the alternative rock band Wilco.  Layers of acoustic guitars and pensive vocals build up to cathartic releases of energy, before dissolving back into a laid-back groove.  You can pretty much feel the late-day sunshine filtering through the amber-hued trees as this song unfurls in your headphones.

Larch Valley, Banff National Park

Fleet Foxes – “Mykonos”

Another mid-tempo number propelled by acoustic guitars and choral vocals.  Perhaps this is the type of song that the adjective “autumnal” was coined for.  “Mykonos” is the high point of the Seattle band’s Sun Giant EP, and sounds like a lost transmission from the early 1970s.  The galloping beat and intertwining layers of voices make you feel like you could zip your fleece jacket up to your chin and keep strolling all the way to Greece.

Wood Bison Trail, Elk Island National Park

The Grapes of Wrath – “All The Things I Wasn’t”

This short little number always transports me back in time to high school.  The Grapes of Wrath were better known as Canadian purveyors of upbeat psychedelic jangle rock, something of a cross between R.E.M. and Syd Barrett era Pink Floyd.  The wistful and acoustic “All The Things I Wasn’t” plays against type, painting a tapestry of golds and reds in an all-too-brief two minutes and eighteen seconds of yearning and regret.

Spruce Grouse Hen – Strathcona Wilderness Centre

Bon Iver – “Holocene”

While the name that Justin Vernon chose for his band cheekily references winter, I always think of fall when I hear “Holocene”.  Maybe it’s partly because the abstract lyric mentions “laying waste to Hallowe’en”.  Like the other songs on this playlist, “Holocene” unfolds in waves of acoustic guitars and wistful vocals.  I think I’m drawn to the melancholy tones of Bon Iver’s music for the same reason that I like the fall; the fear and uncertainty in the music tidily parallels the tenebrific approach of another harsh winter.

City of Edmonton Skyline and the North Saskatchewan River Valley

R.E.M. – “Drive”

I gave up trying to understand Michael Stipe’s lyrics years ago.  From what I’ve read, he often relies on his subconscious to pull words out of the ether.  I suspect that even Stipe can’t pin down what “Drive” is all about.  There’s certainly a sense of middle-aged malaise, of dissatisfaction with the status quo, of not knowing where to go next.  But exactly how all this existential angst is supposed to congeal into coherent thoughts is anyone’s guess.  From a musical perspective, “Drive” is about as stately and autumnal as R.E.M. ever got.  Peter Buck’s looping acoustic guitar motif is overdubbed by searing electric lead lines.   Bill Berry’s sparse drums and Mike Mills’ accordion drop in and out of the arrangement at precisely the right times.  It all creates a melancholy atmosphere as thick as Brunswick stew, and is the perfect soundtrack for wistfully kicking aspen leaves along the trail.

Fern Lake Trailhead, Rocky Mountain National Park


Zeroes and Ones

Have you ever stopped to wonder why our society puts so much value on big, round numbers?  Especially when we’re talking about the passage of time?

The length of a day is set at how long it takes for the planet to spin about its longitudinal axis.  The length of a year is set at how long it takes for the planet to make one revolution around the Sun (give or take a leap day).  Most cultures have arbitrarily defined a “day” as 24 hours, even though we could have said there are five or ten or a thousand hours in a  day just as easily.  A year takes something like 365 and a quarter diurnal periods, give or take some leap-seconds.  Months can have 28, 29, 30, or 31 days.  Meanwhile, there’s 12 inches in a foot, 3 feet in a yard, 5280 feet in a mile, 16 ounces in a pound, 2 pints in a quart, and 4 quarts in a gallon. It’s all pretty arbitrary.  Thankfully, the metric system is based on far more sensible, less esoteric base-10 mathematics.  But we could have just as easily standardized on base-2 or base-16 or some other numerology.

Just like the metric system, our society puts a lot of emphasis on 10th anniversaries and 100-year centennials and 1000-year epochs.  There’s something about big round numbers that appeals to us, even though time scales are largely an arbitrary human construct.  It even carries over to our fascination with automobile odometers, thousands of dollars, millionth online customers, and so on.

A few events have transpired in the Craven Hermit household lately that rolled over the digits on various virtual odometers.  Previously I’ve bored you to death with details from various hikes around town.  Today’s 20.00 km walk (yes, I watched the odometer roll over on the way up the driveway) was fairly unexceptional, except to say that according to my Nike+ app I’ve now surpassed the 1000 km cumulative mark.  I picked up my Bluetooth token about 20 months ago, and I don’t always use it for every walk or hike, but there’s still something kind of neat about rolling over into quadruple digits.  When I finished my walk today, Paula Radcliffe even appeared in my headphones to congratulate me on my (dubious) achievement.  Which is nice, I guess, despite having only a vague idea who Paula Radcliffe is.

Well I know we should take a walk
But you’re such a fast walker, oh-whoa, well all right
I know where I’ll be tonight, all right
Outta mind, outta site

– Wilco, “Outtasite (Outta Mind)”, 1996

Today was a good opportunity to test out my new headphones.  I finally retired my trusty Sony in-ear buds; they survived an accidental ‘journey of discovery’ through my washing machine, but they don’t sound quite right anymore.  I picked up some new Klipsch s4i headphones on sale yesterday, and they sound really nice.  The bass is subtle but tighter than my Sony’s ever were, the midrange is clear, and the highs are crisp and precise.  With these new ‘phones, the acoustic guitar on The Shins’ “New Slang” actually sounded like a resonant wooden instrument.  The staccato guitar and percussion on Stevie Wonder’s “Boogie On Reggae Woman” seemed to be coming from right inside my head.  Even the bleeps and bloops on Kraftwerk’s “Pocket Calculator” were beautifully synthetic, just like Ralf and Florian would have wanted.  Not bad for $80.

Meanwhile down at the local wetlands, the pelicans were having a field day chasing around a school of minnows.  So it was a good day for people and our feathered friends alike.

This blog has also experienced a milestone of sorts.  Early yesterday, the Craven Hermit blog experienced its 2000th unique hit.  This is pretty remarkable, considering that I have never really publicized this blog anywhere.  I sent a link to a half dozen friends of mine, people that I thought might be bored enough to occasionally spelunk the inner machinations of my musically-wired mind.  Other than an email here or there, this page was designed to lurk quietly in the shadows (much like its curator).

The vast majority of visitors to the Craven Hermit blog arrive via Google search.  Based on the spam I get, a fair number of my site’s visitors are mainly looking for opportunities to market boner pills to dysfunctional fifty-five year olds.  I think of these interlopers as the ‘One-and-Done’ crowd, because they must realize pretty quickly that this blog is actually about popular music.

Thankfully, a good number of the people that stumble across this site take a few minutes to poke around and see what’s up.  A few brave souls have even signed up to receive regular updates from my blog, which is pretty cool and really gratifying.  This form of communication sure beats shouting into a gale-force wind, which is kind of how real life feels for me sometimes.

In February, WordPress rolled out a new feature that shows which countries your visitors are arriving from.  Not surprisingly, Canada and the USA dominate the charts.  But in amongst the usual suspects, there have been visitors from exotic locales like Libya, Greenland, Cambodia, Sudan, Fiji, Belarus, and Djibouti.  Not to mention pretty much every country in the western hemisphere.  They come from many places where English isn’t even the predominant language and where popular music is a completely different kettle of fish than my local airwaves.  It makes the world seem like a much smaller place.

There’s no one rhyme or reason for why people check out my blog.  One of the most popular features is my monthly preview of upcoming releases.  The Charlie Brown themed blog seems to attract a lot of attention, mainly for the cartoon image.  My feature on Roger Waters’ tour for The Wall got a lot of hits from all over the world, which was fun.  Even those photos of my vinyl records bring people to the site.  If you ever have any suggestions or ideas for future blogs, please let me know.

Whatever set of circumstances led you to this site – thank you for taking the time to read what I have to say.  As I laid out in my original mission statement last October, I’ve tried to make this blog informative and entertaining and honest.  Hopefully that comes across in the words on your screen.

Oh, right, one last thing.  This is my 100th post!  Yet more arbitrary zeroes and ones to celebrate.

The Spin Cycle

I love this cartoon:

I feel like Charlie Brown’s kindred spirit at the best of times (premature chrome-dome, no fashion sense, unrequited love for the little red-haired girl).  This cartoon just cements it – tomorrow I go shopping for zig-zag shirts.

Mr. Schulz has posed a question for the ages.  Does listening to depressing music make you sad, or do depressed people simply choose to listen to melancholy music?

Here’s my two cents worth on the matter.  From my perspective (and I swear this isn’t meant to be a cop-out), it’s a bit of both.

I have always had a symbiotic relationship with my record collection.  In many ways, it is my best friend.  I’ve been told that I tend to put a noticeable distance between myself and other people, even my closest friends.  I doubt that anyone knows my favourite colour (cobalt blue), or what I want to do when I retire (putter around a cabin in the mountains, watching wild creatures wander through the yard), or even what I find most attractive about a woman (her voice and what she has to say).  The metaphorical wall I’ve erected around myself has been remarkably effective at limiting the number of emotional relationships I’ve shared with people.

But despite the impenetrable Fortress of Solitude, music is always right there at the centre of my soul.

My music is there when I’m out for a three-hour walk through aspen parkland.  My music is there when I’ve had a particularly good day at work or a good night at hockey.  My music is there as I sit around the campfire, summit a new pass on a hike, or wait in a departure lounge for a plane.

And, yes, music is there when I’m feeling blue.  It waits for me with open arms and a reassuring embrace.  It doesn’t judge.  It doesn’t mock.  It simply understands that not every day is going to be euphoria.  It knows that someone who has to work so hard to suppress his roller-coaster of emotions just to stay on an even keel is going to melt down from time to time.

Today is an odd day.  The calendar says it is springtime, but it’s been snowing since 4 a.m.  The pavement is wet, while big wet flakes continue to accumulate on my back lawn, now 4″ thick.  Maybe it’s the strange weather that is lending everything a sense of disorder.  Something just seems off-kilter, out of balance, incomplete.  I want to be somewhere else, anywhere else.  There’s an emptiness, a void; a yearning and a burning that can’t be extinguished.  Like the wise man once said:

I have climbed the highest mountains
I have run through the fields…
But I still haven’t found what I’m looking for

Right after I post this meandering collection of words, I’m going to take the fourteen steps down to my basement, cue up the stereo, and re-establish my usual dent on the sofa.  At times like these, my record collection is my salvation.

I can’t speak for everyone.  But I know that when I’m feeling dislocated and disjointed, music helps to ground me.  I don’t think it’s as simple as saying that depressed people listen to sad music, or the act of listening to sad music will depress someone.  Reality is more complicated than simple cause and effect.  I do think that there is something incredibly powerful about music, something that taps into our humanity.  Something that makes us feel a little less lonely on a snowy Saturday night in April.  Something that defies a proper explanation, but is still very real and profound.  I think people in a certain mood are always going to gravitate toward a certain kind of music, just to remind themselves that someone else out there feels the same way.  The music doesn’t depress them – it offers them a refuge.  An arm around their torso and a head on their shoulder.

A quick check of iTunes will reveal the tracks you listen to the most.  Apparently, the top of the Craven Hermit charts goes something like this:

  • “England” by The National
  • “Undisclosed Desires” by Muse
  • “Lucky” by Radiohead
  • “Adventures in Solitude” by the New Pornographers
  • “How to Fight Loneliness” by Wilco
  • “Mess” by Ben Folds Five
  • “Transatlanticism” by Death Cab for Cutie
  • “What I Have To Offer” by Eels
  • “The Scientist” by Coldplay
  • “Naked As We Came” by Iron & Wine
  • “Both Sides Are Even” by The Boxer Rebellion
  • “Drive” by R.E.M.

So, not exactly AC/DC’s greatest hits then!  But there’s very few things in this world that I would take in trade for my relationship with these tunes.

I wonder if Charlie Brown ever managed to find a copy of Transatlanticism on vinyl.  I bet he’d love it.

Upcoming Music Releases – April 2012


Great Lake Swimmers return with a new album entitled New Wild Everywhere.  This record, like all of GLS’s albums, should hit the spot as you’re sitting around a campfire roasting some wieners this summer.  Like a less-choral Fleet Foxes or a less-weird Bon Iver, GLS write songs that are wistful and windswept but still tuneful and interesting.  Here’s hoping that New Wild Everywhere builds on the residual momentum of 2009’s excellent Lost Channels.


Malian musicians Amadou & Mariam return with a new album called Folila.  Their infectiously melodic music has crossed over into wider circles thanks to Western pop benefactors like Damon Albarn. Folila reportedly began as two separate albums – one with more traditional African guests and one with a selection of their new Western friends.  But instead of splitting the finished songs into two separate albums, Amadou & Mariam bravely elected to pick the best results from all of the recordings and combined them into a single release.  Guests like TV on the Radio, Santigold, and Jake Shears (of Scissor Sisters) made the cut, and the results should be interesting to hear.  Integrating ‘world music’ with Western pop can be a treacherous path, but when executed properly (think Paul Simon or Peter Gabriel) the results can be greater than the sum of the parts.

Portland’s M. Ward follows up 2009’s well-received Hold Time with a new album called A Wasteland Companion.  Like Amadou & Mariam, this album was recorded with a laundry list of musicians (including frequent collaborator Zooey Deschanel), but that’s likely where the comparisons end.  M. Ward’s music tends to be rooted in a certain kind of Americana, one where shapes and textures are just as important as melodies and rhythms.


The new Spiritualized album, Sweet Heart Sweet Light, which was released in the UK back in March gets a North American release.  Although if you’re internet-savvy and a fan of J. Spaceman’s alternative, reflective, interstellar dream-pop, you’ve probably found a way to acquire this record by now.


Jack White finally cuts the cords to his various other projects (White Stripes, Raconteurs, Dead Weather) and puts out an album under his own nom de plume.  Hopefully White takes some chances with Blunderbuss and pushes himself in new musical directions.  It would be cool if some twisted echoes of his Nashville neighbours made it into the mix.  But if the songs skew more toward the fully-formed melodic rock of The Raconteurs instead of the hyperactive riffs and underdeveloped musical ideas of a White Stripes record, so much the better.

The Dandy Warhols continue to try to undo the damage done to their careers by 2008’s uneven Earth to the Dandy Warhols and 2005’s frankly terrible Odditorium or Warlords of Mars.  Early word is that This Machine is a somewhat schizophrenic affair, flirting with the Dandy’s usual touchstones (psychedelic rock, grungey alt-rock) and new textures (electronic music).  Could be brilliant, or could be crap.  As a wise man once said, “It’s a fine line between stupid and clever”.

Record Store Day!

On Saturday, April 21st, the fifth annual Record Store Day will finally be upon us!  Get out and support your local merchant, whose business is more than likely hanging on by its fingernails these days.  Without local record shops catering to music fans that like something a little different, your brick & mortar music consumerism would be reduced to choosing between Rihanna and Maroon 5 down at the ever-shrinking Best Buy CD rack.

Many prominent musical acts are helping to promote RSD 2012 with a bevy of new releases.  On Saturday the 21st, look for limited quantities of these gems in your local shop:

Arcade Fire – Sprawl II (12″)
Brendan Benson – What Kind of World (7″)
The Black Keys – El Camino (2 x 45 rpm 12″)
Blitzen Trapper – Hey Joe (7″)
The Civil Wars – Billie Jean (7″)
The Clash – London Calling 2012 (7″)
Coldplay – Up With The Birds / UFO (7″)
Fun. – The Ghost That You Are To Me (10″ gold gear-shaped picture disc)
The Hives – Go Right Ahead (7″)
Paul Simon – Graceland re-release (12″)
Pete Townshend – Quadrophenia Demos part 2 (10″)
Uncle Tupelo – the seven-inch singles box set (4 x 7″)
Uncle Tupelo – No Depression, Still Feel Gone, and March 16-20 1992 re-releases (12″)

As usual, Wilco are getting into the act with a very limited release of a deluxe LP box set for The Whole Love.  Big deal – I already have it! But the limited-edition turntable slip-mat looks pretty cool.

Wilco – Live in Vancouver

Wilco just completed a short 16-gig tour of western North America to promote last year’s excellent album The Whole Love.  After today, the band jets across the sea to keep the love going into Scandinavia and all points beyond.  Your intrepid reporter was lucky enough to catch Wilco’s only Canadian show of the tour in Vancouver, British Columbia on 5-February-2012.

It has been fascinating to watch Wilco (the band) evolve over time.  Many things are different about the band since I first saw them at the Edmonton Folk Festival in August of 2000.  Back then, Wilco had just released the album Summerteeth, bookended by the Mermaid Avenue records of Woody Guthrie songs.  Seeing Tweedy & Co sonically assault the chilled-out, folksy, sunset vibe on a grassy hill in Edmonton was a revelation.  I’d always liked their records, but on that day I saw many clues to what a formidable live act they would become.

Fast-forward a dozen years and several roster changes, and Wilco are still in business.  And business is good!  The current six-man lineup has been in place for a few records now, and their shared sense of purpose and power is evident on stage.  Lead singer and principal songwriter Jeff Tweedy is still the ringmaster, controlling the tone and tempo of the proceedings with his voice and body english and charming, humble stage banter.  That said, on Sunday night everyone in the band got a chance to shine.

Orpheum Theatre Marquee, Vancouver, BC

Sunday night’s gig was at the Orpheum Theatre in downtown Vancouver.  The Orpheum was built in the 1920s during the later stages of vaudeville, and seats around 3000 patrons in opulent comfort.  Red carpets, wall tapestries, crystal chandeliers, intricate carvings and frescoes abound.

Orpheum Theatre Atrium

Not likely to be confused with CBGB’s, then.  Sometimes rock bands can get a little lost in plush surroundings like these, robbing them of their power.  But no such fate awaited the wily veterans of Wilco on this night.  Framed by their stage décor, which looked not unlike several dozen white bed sheets and pillow cases knotted to ropes, Wilco brought the rock to Vancouver.

Wilco Stage Setup, Orpheum Theatre, Vancouver BC

Just like the Folk Festival gig all those years ago, the band took the stage and challenged their audience with a daring triptych of songs right out of the gate.  The twisted beauty of one of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot’s hidden gems was sandwiched between The Whole Love’s two standout tracks.  Starting the gig with the hushed acoustic epic “One Sunday Morning” was an unexpected treat.  The band then took a hard left-turn into “Poor Places”, with its smouldering intensity and masterful blend of melody and dissonance.  The first of many highlights on this evening came from “Art of Almost”.  The band wrested every pound of force they could from Glenn Kotche’s drums and Nels Cline’s frantic high-wire guitar stylings.  A little over twenty minutes into the gig, and we’d already gotten our money’s worth.

In all, six songs from The Whole Love made it into the setlist.  “I Might” translated well to a live setting, its upbeat rhythms and new-wave melodies all but guaranteed to be a crowd pleaser.  The stage arrangement of “Born Alone” also helped to accentuate the push-and-pull guitar dynamics of the song.  The mid-tempo “Dawned on Me” worked well in concert, but I couldn’t help thinking that “Standing O” would be a better, tongue-in-cheek rocker to leave ringing in the audience’s ears.  The campfire charm of “Whole Love” kicked off the encore, and if audiences continue to sing along to the chorus it should stay in the Wilco repertoire for many years.

Tweedy prefaced the lone Mermaid Avenue song of the evening, “California Stars”, with a brief monologue.  He asked why, if the name of our home and native land is pronounced ka-na-da, then why are we called ka-NAY-dee-unz?  Shouldn’t we be ka-na-DEE-unz, if only to better suit the rhythm and meter of Wilco’s next song?  The grammar nerd in me thinks Jeff has a good point.  At any rate, it was fun to sing along to the first few bars of the newly-christened “Ca-na-DEE-an Stars”.

Tweedy was otherwise economical with his stage banter, goofing around with some yellow penalty flags that were thrown on stage (presumably in honour of SuperBowl Sunday) and congratulating a recently engaged couple near the front.  No forced shout-outs to Springfield or put-downs of North Haverbrook on this night.

Nels Cline got another chance to shine with some inimitable, tasty licks on “Impossible Germany”.  The moment at which the trio of guitars from Cline, Tweedy, and Pat Sansone fuse into a glorious roar at the end of the song may be the most thrilling thing that Wilco will ever do in concert.  Sansone is clearly relishing his opportunity to serve a larger role within the band.  He effortlessly moves from keyboards to guitars, depending on what the song requires, and his Pete Townshend poses are always a crowd pleaser.  Sansone and bassist John Stirratt are also taking on more vocal duties than ever, perhaps leveraging some new-found confidence from their Autumn Defense side project.  Several songs benefitted from having three vocalists in the mix.

A few songs have also undergone some sonic renovations.  “Spiders (Kidsmoke)” has been reinvented as a more acoustic number, replacing its electric quiet/loud bombast with a little more subtlety.  Perhaps some of that bombast was transferred to “Via Chicago”, where the ‘thunderstorm’ sections seem more jaw-droppingly cataclysmic than ever.  The highlight of set closer “A Shot In The Arm” was undoubtedly the fury of sound unleashed by pianist Mikael Jorgensen.  The normally bookish Jorgensen looked so animated and so caught up in the moment that, by the end of the song, I half expected him to kick over his wall of keyboards, scream “I am a golden god!!”, and leap head-first into the crowd.

The band reached way back into the catalogue for three songs from Being There to close out the encore.  “Red-Eyed and Blue” was rocked-up to better match the tone of “I Got You” and “Outtasite (Outta Mind)”.  While I appreciate hearing some of the rollicking oldies in the home stretch of a gig as much as the next guy, it may be time for the band to reinvent their encore set.  With so many great songs accumulating in the Wilco songbook, there’s only so much room for numbers by the first incarnation of the band.  On this night, tracks like “War on War”, “Kamera”, “At Least That’s What You Said”, “Muzzle of Bees”, and “How To Fight Loneliness” didn’t make the cut.  Unless Wilco start playing three-hour gigs (not likely since Kotche’s hands would probably disintegrate), there’s never going to be enough room for everyone’s favourites.  Such are the travails of having too many classic songs; qué sera sera.

On this night, Wilco faithfully delivered The Whole Love.  By the time the last of the appreciative crowd’s cheers echoed off the ornate walls of the Orpheum, it was obvious that the love was mutual.

Wilco on-stage duing "Walken", Orpheum Theatre

Wilco’s Setlist for 5-Feb-2012:
(from the Hermit’s notes)

  • One Sunday Morning
  • Poor Places
  • Art of Almost
  • I Might
  • I Am Trying to Break Your Heart
  • One Wing
  • Radio Cure
  • Impossible Germany
  • Born Alone
  • Spiders (Kidsmoke)
  • I’ll Fight
  • Handshake Drugs
  • Via Chicago
  • California Stars
  • I Must Be High
  • Pot Kettle Black
  • Dawned on Me
  • A Shot in the Arm

And for an encore:

  • Whole Love
  • Heavy Metal Drummer
  • Walken
  • Red-Eyed and Blue
  • I Got You (At the End of the Century)
  • Outtasite (Outta Mind)

Supporting act:  White Denim