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“Dirty Old Town” - Ted Leo
(Words/music: Ewan MacColl, appears on “Tell Balgeary, Balgury is Dead” EP, Lookout! 2003)

(In honor of the new Ted Leo and the Pharmacists album The Brutalist Bricks, I’d like to re-run the story of when I first met Ted Leo in February 2003.  This post originally ran on January 7, 2009.  Back to new posts tomorrow!)


I’ve been blessed to have been involved with college radio while earning both of my degrees (first at WDOM in Providence, later at WQAQ in Connecticut), and it was (and continues to be) an important factor in my ever evolving musical taste. This post, however, isn’t my love letter to college radio (that comes with a different song) but rather a reflection of my favorite experience as a DJ.

I was fortunate enough to meet and interview Ted Leo during February 2003, right after the Hearts of Oak album came out (and right after I discovered his music). It was a surreal experience for a college sophomore to have to plan questions and interview someone who would be on Conan O’Brien later that week. From the moment that we helped Ted cart in his amplifier and guitar case (the same ones he still uses years later), it was apparent that Ted was almost as grateful to have the opportunity to appear on our modest station as we were to have him come to us. Through all sorts of stumbling blocks – our station’s faulty heater (it didn’t work a lot that winter), a less than vegan friendly cafeteria, his nagging vocal chord problems, and my nervous propensity to mix metaphors (he signed a poster with one of my quotes - “top to bottom, front to back” - my attempt to complement the body of songs on Hearts of Oak), Ted remained upbeat, enthusiastic, and completely engaging. We had Ted on for an hour or so – a mix of discussions about ska music, going to Catholic school, listening to New Order, and other topics with about half a dozen performances of songs from The Tyranny of Distance and Hearts of Oak. By the end of the afternoon, everyone in the room not only became fans of his music, but became fans of the man. In addition to his kindness and wit, Ted’s personal ethics shine through everything he does. Few contemporaries champion their causes as earnestly and completely and it seems that he has time to play on behalf of people and causes that he supports (for example, playing a benefit for a local punk rock promoter who recently passed away).

“Dirty Old Town” was the last song that Ted played that day, introducing it as a “song for the city of Providence.” I didn’t know the song (I hadn’t discovered The Pogues at that point), but I was struck by how he sang someone else’s song with the same passion and conviction that he sang his own songs. Looking back at that day nearly six years later, I have two prevailing thoughts. The first is the refreshing realization that the people that we’re fans of are fans themselves. It’s clear that Ted has a passion for music (look at the wide body of cover songs in his repertoire – in particular the obscure songs he’s playing on his recent solo tour) and that even to this day he remains a fan. Secondly, and perhaps more importantly, I’ve learned that songs don’t belong exclusively to their authors – they belong to us all. We all have our own unique memories associated with individual songs – sometimes shared, sometimes private – and that some songs immediately can immediately bring us back to a specific place or time. I’m not sure what Ted Leo thinks of when he hears Shane MacGowan sing “Dirty Old Town,” but this song will always make me think back to that afternoon in Providence where I got to interview one of my favorite musicians.

More on Ted Leo: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

TAGGED UNDER: ted leo | ted leo and the pharmacists | 2003 | cover song | the pogues | repost | repost |
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“We’ve Got the Best of an Imperfect World” - On Live Music and Emotional Jumpstarts

I rushed through tonight’s post, and since it probably is my last Ted Leo related post (I’ve already posted a solo track in addition to this one with the band), I want to revisit one specific time seeing Ted Leo.  Since I first met him in 2003, I’ve seen Ted Leo roughly 20 times, and the most memorable show of all of these happened in December 2004.  On a whim, I ended up going to see Ted Leo and his band at the University of Rhode Island.  It came at the end of an extremely busy semester where I spread myself too thin with my classes, playing in (and running) music ensembles, DJ-ing for the campus radio station, and writing for the school paper.  This emotional fatigue came at the same time as the 2004 election – one where many had such high hopes for change and felt sucker punched when nothing changed.  I was in a haze and trying to figure out how I could get the energy to finish my end of the semester projects in time.

I called my friend and he got a ride from Providence down to URI for us, and just an hour after waking up from an involuntary nap on my couch, I was getting ready to cram into the orchestra pit in an auditorium to see Ted Leo.  As a musician who openly champions causes he believes in, it was natural to assume that Ted Leo might be deflated the same way as us after the election.  Instead, Leo and his band (at this point a power trio) tore through their songs.  It wasn’t a perfect show – they battled sound problems and didn’t play an encore because of it – but it was the show we needed.  By the time it ended, I was drenched in sweat and hoarse from singing along.  However, I felt invigorated immediately and left URI with feelings of energy and motivation that I hadn’t felt in weeks.  It wasn’t flawless, but it didn’t need to be because that night it didn’t matter.  One of Ted Leo’s new songs has the line “we’ve got the best of an imperfect world,” and I can’t help but think of that night - in a world that seemed far from perfect, Ted Leo helped us bring out the absolute best in it.  Consequently, it ultimately helped to bring the best out of me as well. 

I’ve been fortunate to see a lot of great shows, but this show was unique.  It was precisely the spark I needed to get myself going again.  It felt like I had been running on a dying battery for weeks, and this concert gave me the jump start needed to run on all cylinders again.  I’ve thought about this a lot in the four and a half years since then, and I’ve had a few shows since then that lifted my spirits when I needed it, but none in the same way that I felt in December 2004.  We all have our moments of exhaustion and we have our ways to decompress when we’re stressed out.  For me, a good live show always makes me feel a little more relaxed and a little more prepared to take on my impending challenges.  These shows alone aren’t enough to power me along, but they’re necessary and welcome sparks that help get us where we want to go.

I came home from seeing Ted Leo and the Pharmacists about an hour ago, and I’m not sure I’ve ever heard them sound better than they sounded tonight.   Everything – old songs, brand new songs, and the classics – sounded great over the hour and forty five minutes they played.  It’s unfair to compare this show to the December 2004 show at URI because of all the circumstances surrounding that show.  I left tonight’s show in awe of the band and the performance they put on tonight.  I also left tonight feeling energized, and with my summer vacation starting in a week, I’m hoping tonight’s euphoria will help me start my summer off right.

TAGGED UNDER: ted leo and the pharmacists | ted leo |
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[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

“Timorous Me – Ted Leo / Pharmacists
(Words/music: Ted Leo, available on The Tyranny of Distance, Lookout! Records, 2001)

I wasn’t introduced to Ted Leo until Hearts of Oak came out, but it was a case of “better late than never.”  Tyranny of Distance came out the week I graduated from high school and I wish it was in my life at that time.  It’s the perfect combination of Leo’s punk rock ethos with his extremely personal songwriting.  These songs seem like intimate portraits straight from the core of his being yet still resonate with almost everyone that hears these songs.  He’s streamlined his production since The Tyranny of Distance and (arguably) has written dozens of better songs since this album, but this group of songs straddles the line between intensely personal and overtly political. 

“Timorous Me” is, in Leo’s own words, “an Irish wake,” yet as a remembrance of the past it focuses more on lost moments rather than lost souls.  Each of the verses details moments where the opportunity for connection went unfulfilled – whether it’s reconnecting with a childhood friend, a member of the audience enjoying herself, or a loved one spending an evening uncharacteristically quiet.  Even if he’s describing specific personal moments, the listener feels a sort of kinship with Leo, sharing in his emotions as he paints the picture with the words.  While we weren’t there for the instances he describes, we have our own missed opportunities and can share in these brief moments of recognition (if not regret).  It’s appropriate that “Timorous Me” generally appears near the end of Ted Leo’s shows, as it’s his most accessible song as well as an opportunity for him to share the spotlight with his audience.   We might not share all of the moments he sings about, but we all have these times where we wish we said one more thing or offered one more bit of advice.   It’s helpful to have an engaging performer like Ted Leo leading us through these moments because together we can share our moments of regret, accept our shortcomings, and move on.  We might not come to this conclusion on our own, but with Leo’s songs to guide us along, we can start to move on and enjoy the present moment.

More on Ted Leo and the Pharmacists: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

TAGGED UNDER: ted leo | ted leo and the pharmacists | lookout! records | 2001 | 2000s | track analysis |
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