Get smitten: The Dodos

The two glist'nin guys and pints of sweat pouring from the stage should tell you something without having to hear a lick or beat: San Francisco's The Dodos are one of the hardest working - and most compelling - live acts around. I caught these guys opening for post-punk prom kings Les Savy Fav at the Great American Music Hall the other night and discovered why I keep seeing their name sprinkled among cognoscente indie music blog topics du jour. It's a symbiosis made in heaven: fanciful vocalist/acoustic-electric hard strummer/looper extraordinaire Meric Long and relentless drummer/mustache master Logan Kroeber. Their sound is hard to classify, but imagine a fairy tale folk pop hard rock mashup. The Dodos' hypnotizing, utterly rocking intensity is mighty worthy of bearing witness, even for those who wouldn't normally profess to liking bands that lay on the top hipster lists. Bay Area heads can check 'em out for free May 14 at Amoeba in San Francisco. In the meantime, watch The Dodos' live "Jodi":

Scarlett Johansson: Keep your day job.

Nothing against Ms. Johansson - she's an OK actress; unarguably pleasant to look at; and mighty ambitious (not to mention displaying extremely good taste) with her stab at the untouchable Tom Waits canon for her debut album. But homegirl's voice comes off like a flat, femme-bot Sinead O'Connor. I'll say no more and let you judge her first single, "Falling Down," for yourself:

Show review: Les Savy Fav @ Great American Music Hall 4/27/08

Here's a tip for the two wannabe Democratic presidential candidates looking to swing the voter pendulum back in their directions: To win over the masses at your next campaign stops, remove the political sticks up your asses and follow the lead of Les Savy Fav singer Tim Harrington. Step 1: Arrive onstage decked out in the attire and speech tendencies characteristic of the city you're in to create instantaneous relatabiliy, and never break character. For Les Savy Fav's headlining spot Sunday at the Great American Music Hall, Harrington waltzed onstage sporting a tie-dyed tee (so positively Haight Street) about 5 inches too short from concealing his well honed beer gut. He'd proceed to flit his '60s-era tan suede fringe jacket over the heads of the front row, beckoning the audience to "come out the other side" in a feigned stoner stupor. Harrington carried on the drugged-out, San Francisco hippie circa '67 act the entire show, to the point of searching the floor of the crowd for a "missing dime bag." Needless to say, but here I am saying it, the guy made everyone laugh. What's that saying again? Laughter is the best policy? The way to an audience's heart is through their funny bone? For reals, though - be the good humor man (or woman) and win over the masses. Step 2: True democratic tactics require stepping beyond the podium and into the crowd itself. By the third song, Harrington lugged his microphone and portly body (think a fatter, balder and beardier version of comedian Zach Galifianakis) into the audience, shouting into the faces of his rabid horde of post-punk disciples and inciting them to bark back. Through the set he'd navigate all the way to the rear of the venue and then fight his way back onstage, only to jump off again to locate a small table and drag it into the heart of the crowd, where he hopped up to finish a song. Imagine Harrington, the sun, with hundreds of sweaty planets merrily succumbing to his gravitational pull. Now was Harrington gunning for a democracy, or a socialist state of live performance? He'd share his beer with the hair adorning the front row, his spit-water with the first five rows, his snot rockets with the stage. And his antics came full circle during the final song when, almost stripped bare in a black, skintight bodysuit with a hint of lime green underoos peeking through, he crawled into the crowd, lay down to be cradled in the laps of two fans and called upon the entire audience to follow suit in a bit of Sunday rest. Before you knew right from left and up from down, scores of flannel-shirt- and wife-beater-clad worshipers fell onto their knees and asses around Harrington, a rock 'n' roll sit-in for the modern age. Step 3: Hey hey. My my. Rock 'n' roll will ... get people EXCITED. Now you, Mr. and Ms. Politician, should attempt this by rousing crowds with viable strategies to jerk this country out of its shithole. Not being familiar with much of Les Savy Fav's songs before this show, I expected a hard-edged post-punk sound, e.g. Sonic Youth-ish, driven by the band's two guitarists, but surprise surprise, they were even punkier than that. Hardcore stringbean (too skinny to be beefcakes) boy-people quickly shoved their way up front at the beginning of the set (fuck you, guy who elbowed me in the collarbone) and screamed along devotedly throughout. Les Savy Fav's got groove, too, danceable indie stuff. Step 4: If all else fails and winning the presidency is but a distant dream, have a backup plan. When touring the world with a critically-acclaimed rock band isn't enough, keep your day job: Harrington still works as a graphic designer for VH1. I wonder if he dons the black mugger's ski mask he wore onstage in his corporate office, too.' Les Savy Fav "The Sweat Descends" live from McCarren Park Pool, Brooklyn, NY, July '06:

Word abuse: spare

All aboard! Time for another whirl on the music cliche train.

Our next stop will be "spare," often paired with "arrangement," a coupling ordinarily used in folk and punk writeups to describe a minimalist approach to instrumentation.

In Medieval Latin, the following examples would be referred to as vocabularius vomitus:

"The group built their sound by combining harmony, spare arrangements."

"Most of his inspirations dwell in the '70s, favoring spare arrangements and elegant string flourishes."

"But those descriptions imply that The Coroner's Gambit is pleasant singer/songwriter craft-- all spare arrangements and lilting whims."

"And the spare arrangements, most of which feature Mishka's acoustic guitar, have a nicely evocative downhome feel to them."

"Anyway, the cooing chorus and spare arrangement leave you feeling content."

Ooh, how those spare arrangements get to me! They leave me feeling just ... so ... content.

If only I could say the same for spare vocabularies.

Ladies and gentleman of the Bay Area, please make your final selection

San Francisco will become a veritable Bermuda Triangle for live *good* rock music tonight, for reals though - check out this list of headliners: Caribou @ The Independent Death Cab For Cutie @ The Fillmore Enablers @ Hemlock Tavern Man Man @ Great American Music Hall Midnight Juggernauts @ Mezzanine (free!) The Raconteurs @ Bimbo's The Verve @ The Warfield And if you were slackin' when tickets went on sale and can't score one on Craigslist or outside the venue, there's always the Tee Vee: Radiohead will perform "House of Cards" on Conan, sorta live (beaming from the U.K.).

Rant: Why rock radio makes me want to eject the contents of my stomach out of my mouth

OK. So this complaint may be akin to kicking the crap heap when it's already down - and I'm talkin' reeking gutter garbage, completely unredeemable, olestra-induced anal leakage trash. But during an innocent attempt to pinpoint a soundtrack for a run-of-the-mill car-parking exercise tonight, I stumbled upon 107.7 "The Bone," which was in the midst of airing, for all classic rock-loving Bay Area ears, "Crazy Bitch" by L.A. glam rockers Buckcherry. Hellooo, nausea. Now it's not that Buckcherry's music is necessarily unbearable. Sure, their songwriting shows all the complexity of a mascara wand, but it's to be expected. But what, pray tell, is up with these appalling, inbred, misogynistic lyrics, and rock radio's wholehearted embracement? Sample: "Hey!/ You're a crazy bitch/ But you fuck so good I'm on top of it ... Baby girl/ You want it all/ To be a star you'll have to go down/ Take it off/ No need to talk/ You're crazy but I like the way you fuck me! ... You jump in bed with fame/ Another one night paid in full/ You're so fine/ It won't be a loss/ Cashing in the rocks/ Just to get you face to face." Blech. Yeah, Buckcherry are good ole boys who must revel in all the groupie sex their dicks can withstand, seeing as how their later years (coming soon!) won't be clouded with memories of critical acclaim, winning awards or having created music featuring the slightest sapling of creativity. And way yeah, corporate radio does still suck. But the song's message should make all people, not just women, vomit. To be "stars," ladies, apparently entails getting on our knees. Oh, what crazy bitches we are! How could I resist the allure of fucking a rock star who treats me like a prostitute? Now, I'd never advocate censorship, but do people actually enjoy singing along to this primitive babble, and is it popular enough to merit radio airplay? Keep in mind, this song isn't some flashback to '80s hair metal - it was released in 2006!?! Actually, maybe ignorance is bliss and inquiring minds don't really want to know.

Man Man Man Man Man Man Man Man ... Man Man Man!

Surprise surprise Man Man In-store performance Man Man Amoeba San Francisco Man Man Tuesday, 6 p.m. Man Man Free? Free!

Owwwooooooh! It's Wolf Parade

I adore Sunset Rubdown and all, but happy happy joy joy, break out the cigars: Wolf Parade's set to rejoin the music-making world with the birth of their new baby. Due June 17, it's a Gemini - you know - whimsical, creative, spontaneous ... The gossip mill, or rather, the Web site of their record label Sub Pop, reports their second album features nine tracks (which seems rather short, doesn't it?), but apparently one runs for an epic 11 minutes. Sounds like they're really stretching out their sound, huh? And for more ooh-ness, earlier this week the guys dropped a sample - "Call It A Ritual," all Spencer Krug vocal perversity and demented keyboard coolness. Yum: [On a side note, let me just say BULLSHIT to PitchforkMedia for deeming the tentative title of the album, Kissing The Beehive, as "terrible." Fuck off, bitter music writer, you. The claim has no legs. Your face is terrible.]

Word abuse: stretch out

Whenever a band throws in an extra wanky guitar solo, tries out a previously unexplored playing tactic or displays any amount of musical progression or experimentation whatsoever, without fail, some writer will pipe in and declare the band has "stretched out" their sound.

This isn't musical yoga, yo.



"Indie rock kingpins the Shins stretch out on their third album, 'Wincing the Night Away'"

"Coldplay Stretch Out On Upcoming Record"

"It’s the disc where the band stretches out and experiments"

"The average song length is about five minutes, giving the musicians room to stretch out and solo occasionally"

You know what happens when you stretch out "stretch out" too much? You get tired.

Sounds like these writers need a rest.

Get smitten: The Mission Orange

Ooh. Few bands have me at hello, as they say, but I turned all 12-year-old girl at a Beatles concert circa 1964 the second I heard The Mission Orange, this noisy garage duo from Mount Vernon, Washington. You know - where George Washington was appointed the first president of hemp. Anyways, these two guys've got this totally infectious energy, and sound all dirty like Nirvana in the Bleach days: loud, fuzzy, distorted, melodious and way rocking, a sort of punk/rock hybrid, with the vocalist/guitarist Marcus Nevitt, who's still in high school, resembling Kurt Cobain in screams and Layne Stayley in yowls (there is a difference). Distortion + pop hooks = smittenness So check out their debut full-length album Seasick for 11 gobs of planet-sized loveliness if you're the type who can appreciate a little bit of sugar in their spaghetti.

New Portishead is the shiznit.

I decided to drop in on the right place at the right time last Friday - that is, Rasputin's in Berkeley during an in-store preview of Portishead's new album Third. Is it too early to deem it the best album of 2008? Well, I'll tack on a "so far" for now, but I'm pretty sure my premature prediction will still ring true Dec. 31. How long has Portishead been working on Third again? Who cares. Awesomeness is always worth the wait (unless your name is Chinese Democracy). To tide us over just a couple more weeks until the official April 29 release, Portishead performed seven songs off the record last week in their namesake hometown studio. The full set, aka 40 minutes that'll make you kill yourself because you're not going to Coachella, is posted at Current TV. Here's a snippet of "Silence"

Welcome back, weirdos: Circulatory System flows once again

It's been nearly seven years since the Circulatory System released it's first, and only, album - a 22-track tripped-out treasure chest of soothing psychedelic rock that explores the eccentricities coursing through one's cerebellum. The Athens, Georgia, group, led by Will Cullen Hart, notably consolidated remnants of Hart's Olivia Tremor Control (Number Two to Neutral Milk Hotel as most revered band of Nineties indie rock prophets The Elephant Six collective) with other musicians from E6, including NMH's Jeff Mangum, a.k.a. God, who has since moved on to continue more reclusive projects. Circulatory System, on the way to releasing its second album, suggested a full revival of its orchestra of weirdness might land soon with three new songs recently uploaded onto MySpace. Judging from "Tiny Concerts," "Same Place" and "Path of the Parallels," it sounds like nothing much has changed since 2001. That's a good thing. Still kicking: Hart's soft, hypnotizing vocals that tender equal doses of aural sedative and meditative chant; an overriding obsession with spirituality ("No matter what you do/no matter what you say/no matter who your friends are/no matter what you've done/you're heading to the same old place/it's part of being"); and kaleidoscopic instrumentation (offbeat acoustic melodies, slack drumbeats, melancholy strings, spacey effects, liberating saxophone, dull and dopey clarinet) that coalesces into a comforting druggie groove. That Circulatory System's pulse remains vital should be cherished news for those who revel in both mind-altering rock 'n' roll and caps and stems.

Rant: Just say no to album skits

It's a bad sign when you bring a CD home and have to skip through at least half of the tracks. Skits, exclusive mostly to rap and hip-hop, are wastes of album space if you ask me. Sure, many attempt to tickle our penchant for the funny ha ha, and try to satiate an MC's need to flaunt unacknowledged comedian skills. Others supposedly act as transitions between songs to facilitate a more complete album experience. But although some listeners find slight appeal (check the ScratchLIVE forum for a debate on the best), I consider skits misleading (20 songs on that CD! Oh - 10 are just skits) and distracting from the actual music. If I wanted a talkie, I'd go watch a movie.

Word abuse: barnstormer

Does anybody know what a barnstormer is? My friend Mr. Webster defines the noun as such: "1 : one who tours through rural districts staging usually theatrical performances 2 : one who travels from place to place making brief stops (as in a political campaign or a promotional tour) 3 : one who pilots an airplane in sight-seeing flights with passengers or in exhibition stunts in an unscheduled course especially in rural districts" OK - it basically refers to a manner of travel. So why is it always used to imply a totally loud, completely bitchin,' dripping-with-attitude party of a song that riles up a crowd to "hoots and hollers" (future "Word abuse" candidate)? Check the abuse: "The rock legends played a 16-song set that included staples like 'Stairway to Heaven' and 'Kashmir,' and they closed the show with the iconic barnstormer 'Rock and Roll.'" "Their debut record Hello Master is a barnstormer of unabashed rock fury." "Thanks to pre-digital age tubes, this Zeppelin-esque barnstormer hums and crackles with warm fuzz." Who started this nonsense? I can actually understand this term's inclusion in the country genre. I mean, who can truly dissociate a Toby Keith song from a steaming heap of cow shit covering, or storming, if you will, a barn? But it has no place in rock 'n' roll. Zeppelin and farm life just don't mix. It's funny -the only way I read "barnstormer" now is in the voice of Mr. Hanky: "Howdy ho - that song shuuuure is a real barnstormer."

Stars of the Lid: pioneers of sonic yoga

Troubled times, here. Economic recession, WAR, Olympic torch protests, polygamy left and right, and just about everyone's got the '08 election blues. What the world needs now is a warm, fuzzy sonic bath from a band that's even more chilled out than Sigur Ros, if you can imagine that. Stars of the Lid, an ambient duo from Austin, Texas, takes the prize for the ultimate in relaxation music. Not a smidgen of rock noise creeps into their lingering soundscapes, much of it influenced by experimental electronic composers and post-rock. It's droney, free-floating and lacks the confines of traditional song structures - thus, the perfect soundtrack to liberate listeners from the bog of their stress-addled cages. The kind of music you have to take off your shoes to listen to. Since one of the guys now resides in Belgium and they don't come 'round these parts often, San Francisco-heads should take advantage this Tuesday, April 15, when they play live at the Independent. $15.

Start spreadin' the news: Radiohead West Coast dates revealed

On your marks ...

In August, it'll be official: my transformation (mutation?) into a full-fledged Radioheadhead - the kind of geeked-out superfan who follows the band around on tour. I'm sticking to just Cali stops for the oodles of superfun, but here are all those West Coast dates, announced Monday, for completists' sake: Tuesday, 8-19 Vancouver, British Columbia - Thunderbird Stadium Wednesday, 8-20 Auburn, WA - White River Amphitheatre Friday, 8-22 San Francisco, CA - Golden Gate Park (Outside Lands Festival) Sunday, 8-24 Los Angeles, CA - Hollywood Bowl Monday, 8-25 Los Angeles, CA - Hollywood Bowl Wednesday, 8-27 Chula Vista, CA - Cricket Wireless Amphitheatre Thursday, 8-28 Santa Barbara, CA - Santa Barbara Bowl Some partially Aussi, fully badass dudes called Liars will open the shows ('cept Outside Lands - we wouldn't want to taint the $225 hippie stinkfest with another good band, would we?).

Get set ...

A presale through Radiohead's Web site is scheduled April 9, U.K. time - a.k.a. anytime my time, a.k.a. no sleep 'til presale. Everyone's five favorite performers (aren't they the best?) also recently recorded a spanky live version of "Bangers & Mash," unveiled Monday (but I still can't get into it; kinda sorta really the least developed track from the batch of new stuff that reveals they are, in fact, fallible). The performance was part of the launch of Pitchfork Media's foray into boob-tube territory, the new music video site Pitchfork.TV, which also aired a live performance from Liars, footage of Man Man lighting fireworks (and recording their new album) on the streets of Philly and an entire documentary about the reunited Pixies. So ...

Go!

ahead and rot your brains at Pitchfork's new site, updated daily with lots of goodies. Yum.

CD review: Giraffes? Giraffes! - More Skin With Milk-Mouth

Santa Cruz duo Giraffes? Giraffes!’s brand of math rock pits a war between body parts to see which will prevail: heart or brain. On sophomore album More Skin With Milk-Mouth, the band’s music wanders between the decidedly technical, prone to manic starts and stops, and the emotionally suggestive, with bewitching melodies tending to cascade across the ears like a waterfall. The instrumental two-piece doesn’t have much use for words over the course of the album’s five tracks, save for a recording of 20th century Zen deep-thinker Alan Watts waxing philosophical about dreams on “I Am S/h(im)e[r] As You Am S/h(im)e[r] As You Are Me And We Am I And I Are All Together: Our Collective Consciousness’ Psychogenic Fugue.” As illustrated, song titles are long-winded, most falling into abstract territory like “When the Catholic Girls Go Camping, the Nicotine Vampires Rule Supreme.”

The two-minute long “The Ghost of Eppeepee’s Ghost” showcases an interesting dichotomy: Joseph Andreoli on guitar with plenty of loops up his sleeve, and Kenneth Topham, quick to both play drumslayer and pound a glockenspiel like a typewriter, thriving in their ability to meld two seemingly opposing parts into a whole. It’s a well-executed mix with enough components - a rapid-succession whip of cymbals here, a thoughtful guitar flourish there - to offer a reprieve from too many driving beats and repetitive arpeggios.

“A Quick One, While She’s Away,” a joyous sonic collage, rounds out the half-hour long record in a perfectly satisfying feedback-drenched climax. The only drawback to this colorful work is its brevity. Can’t the battle between gross anatomy take a little more time to pan out? (Loves In Heat Records) Originally published in West Coast Performer, April 2008

Hey ya! New Radiohead West Coast tour date

Wednesday, August 20 White River Amphitheater Auburn, Wash. (30 min. from Seattle)

Word abuse: loose

Lose. Lose. The word that's so shamefully evading your vocabulary is "lose." Not "loose." Guess I shouldn't be too surprised that I run into writers confusing "loose" and "lose" all the fucking time - last night, reading an eternally crap-copy-edited music mag; today, in an article by the music editor of a major S.F. weekly with usually impeccable copy editing. I mean, they're practically the same word. Except for the fact that "loose" has an extra "o" AND A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT DEFINITION. Check it:

"With supporting acts ranging from the ambient to the drone-friendly to warped electro-pop, you can’t loose with any of (((folkYEAH!)))’s lineups that weekend."

"Without loosing the urgent, live, improvisational sound their live shows have become renowned for." "What is your favourite Foo Fighter's album? ... Probably There is Nothing Left to Loose, and The Color and the Shape." "Gene Simmons is the ultimate looser of rock music." Is this an accidentally typing too many o's sorta thing? Or maybe copy editors slacking on the job? Edward Collins, um, some guy with a Web site, devoted an entire page to illuminate this problem. But fear not: Plenty of online tutorials can school you on the distinction. Use them or loose them. As Yoda would say, not interchangeable these words are.

Rant: Survey says! Surveys suck.

Led Zeppelin fans apparently will be voting imbecile when it comes time for the November presidential election, or at least that's what a survey released Wednesday would like us to believe. According to a Web poll of more than 27,000 rock radio listeners conducted by Jacobs Media, a consulting firm that studies rock stations, classic rock enthusiasts tend to vote Republican while alternative fans lean toward Democratic candidates. Behold John McCain's new slogan in '08:

Abstinence, the war on drugs and rock 'n' roll

I won't hold my breath. I have a hard time buying that someone's allegiance to such progressive and free-thinking artists as Pink Floyd and Jimi Hendrix directly correlates to endorsing a warmonger like McCain. The survey's conclusion and the way data are being interpreted is flawed. It's not musical preference that controls a person's political alignment, but rather, listening habits play a secondary role to more decisive voting factors like age and wealth. Older radio listeners - the kind who tune in to classic rock stations more often than modern alternative due to a generational gap - likely have more money, and thus are more inclined to want to protect their almighty dollar by voting Republican. And folks, that's not news. I'm sick of these bullshit sociology methods gone stupid so willingly gobbled and digested by media, who report misleading generalizations to the public as gospel. Surveys suck. Disney fans and hunting aficionados, however, take heart: The poll also revealed 11 respondents pick Mickey Mouse, and 3 Ted Nugent, as the best presidential candidates come November. And to think I didn't take this survey seriously!

Say sayonara (at least for a while) to some of S.F.'s big concert halls

Looks like live music fiends may be catching shows at three fewer venues in San Francisco for the rest of '08 due to recent shakeups at the Warfield, Bill Graham Civic Auditorium and the Cow Palace. Peep these developments: The Warfield: I stumbled upon this Craigslist post yesterday under the Gigs: Talent heading - Warfield to become comedy venue (downtown / civic / van ness)

---

Reply to: gigs-625647918@craigslist.org Date: 2008-03-31, 3:56PM PDT The Warfield theater will be closing it's doors this May after a very long run. My production company has signed a long-term lease with the theater to run a full-time comedy venue. This Summer, we open our doors as the Frisco Comedy Palace. We are now recruiting local and national comedy acts. Please be in touch ASAP with your headshots and bios. Send to the email address above. We're also looking for acts that will double as wait staff, audio controllers and ticket staff. Burt Largess General Manager Frisco Comedy Palace The Warfield exclusively a comedy venue? Um, a sole Craigslist posting = not the most credible source. A search on Google for "Frisco Comedy Palace" and "Burt Largess" yielded zero results besides the ad. Can you say hoax? How about cock-and-bull? But further investigation revealed no concerts are scheduled at the Warfield following a Phil Lesh five-night stand ending May 18. The only event listed after that is comedian Jim Gaffigan on Nov. 7. Hmmm. To confuse the matter even further, Aidin Vaziri reported in today's Chronicle that the Warfield has a new promoter, AEG Live, because Live Nation's lease expires in May, thus providing a possible explanation as to why no concerts are scheduled after May. Maybe AEG just hasn't gotten around to finalizing/ announcing concerts at the downtown venue. And it looks like the AEG deal has been in place for some time, but this is the first I've heard about it. Let's hope the Frisco Comedy Palace remains a criminally untrue rumor. I mean, I've seen Dave Chappelle at the Warfield - great show, let me tell you - but the theater is so perfectly suited for rock concerts, nevermind the occasional dickhead security, that it'd be sacrilege to deny live bands on its stage. Who knows? Maybe concerts at the Warfield will continue uninterrupted despite the promoter change. I'll follow this more closely from now on. Bill Graham Civic Auditorium: Closed for renovations as of March 31, and according to a blurb in the San Francisco Chronicle, it will reopen in 6 months to one year all new and improved-like. I recently witnessed a kickass Tool show there, so let's hope it's sooner rather than ... Cow Palace: The fate of this longtime venue, technically located in Daly City, looks bleak. The city of Daly City, along with Sen. Leland Yee, D-San Francisco, are aggressively fighting for a deal to purchase the land, demolish the facility and sell it to a developer with plans to build a supermarket, elementary school and other businesses and residences on site. Today's Chronicle reported that the State Senate offered temporary amnesty for the Cow Palace by holding off on approving a bill that would declare the land surplus property, thus allowing the sale to proceed and the building razed. I don't know about this one. Yeah, the Cow Palace - which more often stages rodeos, livestock events and other niche conventions - isn't my number one choice for watching a rock concert. It's big and smelly - an armpit, if you will. And plunking a supermarket on this land would certainly give residents of the admittedly downtrodden area more access to healthy food - a definite upgrade from the myriad shitty convenience stores and KFC/Taco Bell on the corner. But I have such fond memories of the Cow Palace ... seeing Nirvana, Nine Inch Nails, Smashing Pumpkins, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Disney on Ice ... my mum saw the Beatles there as a screaming 12-year-old. Think of the cool bands that could play there in the future. I vote for keep it. With dead presidents galore dangling so temptingly in front of politicians with this deal, it'd be a safe bet to say R.I.P. Cow Palace. You will be missed.