Pages tagged “ted leo”

You Ain’t No Picasso has posted an MP3 of the new Ted Leo track “The World is in the Turlet” that recently premiered on Jersey City’s WFMU, having lovingly ganked it from the station’s forum. “You know, I used to tease my Georgia-raised dad for his occasional pronouncing the bathroom’s main feature as ‘turlet,’” YANP claims, but such dialect is actually more regional to almost anywhere but Georgia (urban dictionary claims Philly, Indiana and the Midwest, some websites say New Jersey or certain N.Y.C. boroughs, FYI).

It's been a a little while since Ted Leo hit the road for a proper tour, but the head Pharmacist is about to do just that. After playing a pair of sold out St. Paddy's Day shows with Dropkick Murphys in Massachusetts, Leo will head overseas to spend April in Ireland, Scotland and England. Must be nice!

Not one to sit around, Leo's been staying busy in the non-touring season. Just the other day, he joined Ben Gibbard and Patton Oswalt (click for videos of, amongst other things, Leo, Gibbard, Oswalt and WFMU's Tom Scharpling covering Abba's "Take a Chance on Me") at Jersey City's WFMU. They were there to help aid the longest running non-commercial free-form radio station in the U.S. via its 50th Anniversary pledge drive. The fundraising marathon runs through Sunday, and those who pledge enough, aside from experiencing the satisfaction of giving to a good cause, get prizes.

But that's not all! We shot Leo an e-mail to see what else is going on in his world at the moment, and he was happy to oblige. He says that he is currently working on new material, but that it probably won't be debuted during the upcoming set of dates. However, the tentative plan is to get into the studio in late spring with the hopes of releasing the follow-up to last year's excellent Living With the Living this fall.

Leo also recently "played some percussion on Kristeen Young's forthcoming record, which will be amazing. The RECORD will be amazing, that is (though, if I can say so, my percussion playing was pretty decent as well)." And just in case you were wondering how Leo feels about the musical stylings of Van Halen, well, "I've finally started to enjoy Van Halen (Van Halen through 1984, that is)," he writes. "Especially 'Little Guitars,' off Diver Down."

If that doesn't fill your Ted Leo quota, we don't know what will. Except, perhaps, the following dates:

March
14 - Dorchester, Mass. @ IBEW Local 103 (solo) *
15 - Lowell, Mass. @ Lowell Memorial Auditorium *

April
13 - Dublin, Ireland @ Crawdaddy
14 - Cork, Ireland @ Cyprus Avenue
15 - Belfast, Northern Ireland @ Auntie Annie's
16 - Glasgow, Scotland @ Beat Club
17 - Leeds, England @ The Cockpit
18 - Nottingham, England @ The Maze
19 - Bristol, England @ Thekla Social
20 - London, England @ Borderline
21 - Leicester, England @ The Charlotte
22 - Brighton, England @ Barfly

* with Dropkick Murphys

Related links:
Review: Living With the Living
TedLeo.com
YouTube: "Since U Been Gone"/"Maps"

Got news tips for Paste? E-mail news@pastemagazine.com.

It’s hard to watch the latest video from Ted Leo & the Pharmacists without entertaining the fact that ol' Tedder might just have something to prove. And who could blame him? The undeniable (though often less than desirable) hardcore-ness of his punk genre cohorts—what with their gigantic necks and murder charges and all—is enough to give any aspiring badass an inferiority complex. Plus, if you’ve ever actually Googled the phrase “ted leo + badass,” you might have noticed that very few of the top results actually reference Leo himself, but instead heap the superlative upon things like Jedi warriors, cheese dip and French Olympic figure skater Surya Bonaly. Ouch!

But the time has come to set the record straight. In this cinematic exploration of “Colleen” (from this year’s Living With the Living) Leo sheds his Pharmacists. He then busts out the baby powder, a few wads of cash and an inexplicable Thermos of baked beans, and commences to kicking some major booty. (Or, more accurately, some major arm.) Behold all three minutes and two seconds of raw power over at Stereogum, the video’s exclusive Internet home.

And so what if *omg spoiler alert!!!* he’s ultimately no match for that mohawked lady? In a development even more startling than the paleness of Leo’s first victim, at press time the video has received near-unanimous positive response from the perennially surly Stereogum commenters. Nary a gratuitous flame in sight? Now that’s badass.

Related links:
Stereogum: New Ted Leo And The Pharmacists Video
TedLeo.com
Paste: Ted Leo - Living With The Living

Got news tips for Paste? Email news@pastemagazine.com.

Most claims that begin “E-mail this to five people and…” end in disappointment and none of the involved parties owning a free iPod. But Ted Leo’s never been one to let you down.

Touch and Go Records is offering a chance to win a Leo-autographed guitar by forwarding an E-card to five e-mail addresses. Click here to enter the contest.

Also, check out Paste’s review of Leo’s recently-released album, Living with the Living, and a preview article featuring the Pharmacist talking about the album.

Related links:
Ted Leo’s site
Ted Leo on MySpace
Touch and Go’s site

With this near-perfect album, Ted Leo is poised to break out in a big way.

Poor Ted Leo. As a man whose music, actions and words all underscore an unwavering commitment to the power of community, Living With The Living will cause him some trouble. Not because of any prima-donna antics or self-glorifying lyrics, nor because of any radical shift in ideology. The problem is that Leo's searing, gorgeous new album—brimming with magnetic charisma and burning passion—sets him apart from the crowd. On this, his fifth solo album, Leo, like Joe Strummer, Ian MacKaye or Bruce Springsteen before him, proves himself a rock 'n' roll hero.

For almost 20 years—starting in NYC's hardcore scene and then moving on to front mod-punks Chisel in D.C. before striking out on his own—Leo has honed his craft, adjusting his focus and the weight he gives different influences; each release getting closer to being the kind that can turn heathens into believers. At the risk of downplaying the excellence of his previous work, it's hard not to see Living With the Living as that album, the summation of Leo's gifts. The elements are the same—righteous indignation, Celtic soul, British Invasion-approved melodies, thoughtful lyrics, dense guitar blitzkriegs—but they've never been so hot, tight and sharp.

The most amazing thing about the album is that there's nothing especially original about it. Unlike obvious touchstones The Clash, The Specials or Thin Lizzy, Leo isn't an innovator. But the value of originality is one of rock 'n' roll's oldest canards. By just about any measure, Slipknot is a far more unique proposition than Leo has been, or likely ever will be. Leo's strength comes from his willingness to dive headfirst into pre-existing musical styles and pump them full of heart and fire until they're ready to explode. The way he makes reggae, punk and '60s rock seem so vital is reminiscent of the young Bruce Springsteen, who also invested older styles with an irresistible in-the-moment fervor. But Leo's templates are altogether tougher, more explicitly political, and less pop than Springsteen's ever were—which is a big part of why Living With The Living rocks so much harder, spits more venom and cuts closer to the bone than just about anything else out there today.

Leo's songwriting is better than most, too. With its stark lyrics ("when the dying starts, you won't have to know a thing about who's dead") and its tight bursts of scratchy guitar, the frenetic, splenetic "Bomb.Repeat.Bomb" is enough to make anyone squirm under its spotlight. Politics are an integral part of Leo's music, but he never lets them get in the way of the pure, visceral appeal of a good song. "Army Bound" may be about the shadowy deal-making our leaders wish we'd ignore ("In every garden there's a snake now, in every pardon there's a stake now") but the song's strutting melody and choppy riff are what keeps it kicking around inside your head.

As much as listening to Leo's music can leave you feeling as if you've just joined a march, Living's smaller, looser and more personal songs are what give the album its heart. "Who Do You Love?" plays like a working-class "Working For the Weekend," only with the AOR sheen and stock lyrics replaced by a bouncy bar-chord riff and the grit of real-life experience. "Colleen" tells the tale of a girl trying hard to keep from giving herself away, and it works within a rhythmic-and-melodic framework that calls to mind prime Kinks or Costello, throwing in a whip-crack guitar solo to boot. "A Bottle of Buckie," is a beautiful tale of friendship, and is given a triumphantly wistful electric Irish-folk arrangement. "The Unwanted Things" works a sultry reggae vamp to great effect, again proving Leo is one of the few punk-bred musicians capable of doing more than just paying lip service to the importance of a groove.

The album's only real flaw is that, at 15 songs (four of which top five minutes), and pitched at such a high level of intensity, listening to the album from start to finish can feel like an endurance test. It's hard to match the passion. Some attractive nooks and crannies might have been bulldozed, but cutting the album down to twelve tracks and 45 minutes would've resulted in something so hot that any country with a nuclear program would've been dying to get their hands on it. Fans of subtlety might also take issue with Leo; his blunt lyrical view can shade toward pedantry. But whether you agree or disagree with his ideas, make no mistake: The music on Living With the Living lives up to the album's title. This is music as affirmation. This is music that makes you feel alive. This is Ted Leo's best album.

The hardest working man in indie rock, Ted Leo, kicks off a slew of dates opening for Death Cab for Cutie tonight (see dates below) in Upper Darby, Pa. Recently, the head Pharmacist himself took a few moments out of his busy schedule to speak with Paste while he was in Washington D.C. putting the finishing touches on his new, as-yet-untitled album, which is tentatively slated for a March release.

“We’re not really reinventing the wheel or anything,” Leo says of the upcoming release. “For me, the record is varied enough that it’s actually kind of exciting to hear. Some of the songs, I’m like, ‘What kind of music is that?’ But by and large, it’s not like we’re making a disco record or a Radiohead record or something. I think with Hearts of Oak and Shake the Sheets, it was very much, ‘This is the record we want to make at this time.’ Very specific. But with Tyranny of Distance and this one, I think it’s more like a mix tape that I would make for myself.”

The new album will consist of 14 songs spread across 13 tracks (listing below), Leo explaining via follow-up email that “the song with the slash, ‘Annunciation Day/Born on X-mas Day,’ is technically two separate songs that are ‘mashed up,’ as the kids are saying these days, so it's semantic at that point.” Much like the mix tape mentality of the new record, Leo says that there wasn’t an overarching inspiration for this particular batch of tunes.

“One of the reasons I was having trouble writing was because I felt like I didn’t have much else to add to the same dialogue that’s continued over my last two albums,” he says. “I remember when someone reviewed my last album, they argued that I wasn’t saying the right political things. But that’s because I had already said them. It’s like, I have nothing else to say about the state of the world right now. Eventually, though, I managed to scrape the surface a little deeper and find some things that are worth saying that I haven’t said already.”

Leo and Co. worked with Brendan Canty from Fugazi (“It’s amazing,” Leo says. “You can really bounce any stupid idea out there and he’ll actually consider it.”) on the upcoming album, much as they did on Tyranny, and some of the songs will pop up during the upcoming shows with Death Cab for Cutie.

“I wouldn’t say that I’m nervous [about the tour],” Leo says. “We’ve gotten to the point in a lot of cities where we’re playing pretty nice sized clubs. I mean, we don’t play Madison Square Garden, which we will do with Death Cab, so that’s crazy. But we’ve also played a lot of outdoor festivals, so I think we’ll do all right. It’s definitely going to be nice for us to play early. That’s how you know you’re getting old - when you go, ‘We’re playing at 8pm, that’s awesome!’”

New album track listing:
“The Sons of Cain”
"Some Beginner's Mind”
“Who do You Love?”
“Army Bound”
“Bomb repeat Bomb”
“The Toro and the Toreador”
“Colleen”
“The Unwanted Things”
“The Lost Brigade”
“Annunciation Day/Born on X-mas Day”
“The World Stops Turning”
“C.I.A.”
“La Costa Brava”

Tour dates with Death Cab for Cutie:

October

26 - Upper Darby, PA, Tower Theater
27 - Rochester, NY, Auditorium Theater
28 - Ottaway, ON, Civic Center
30 - Toronto, ON, Massey Hall

November

1 - Montreal, PQ, Metropolis
2 - Boston, MA, The Opera House
4 - Providence, RI, Providence Performing Arts
6 - Washington, DC, DAR Constitution Hall
8 - New York, NY, Theater at Madison Square
10 - Norfolk, VA, Norva
11 - Belle Vernon, PA, Isce Garden Arena
13 - Columbus, OH, Promo West Pavillion
14 - Indianapolis, IN, Murat Theatre
15 - Louisville, KY, Louisville Palace Theatre
16 - Birmingham, AL, BJCC Concert Hall
17 - Atlanta, GA, Fox Theatre
18 - Clemson, SC, Littlejohn Coliseum
19 - Orlando, FL, University of Central Florida
20 - Coral Gables, FL, University of Miami

December

9 - Seattle, WA, Key Arena

More dates without Death Cab:

November

22 - Jacksonville, FL, Jack Rabbits
23 - Mt. Pleasant, SC, Village Tavern
24 - Asheville, NC, The Grey Eagle
25 - Charlottesville, VA, Starr Hill
26 - Lancaster, PA, Chameleon Club
29 - Worchester, MA, The Grind at Clark University

December

10 - Seattle, WA, Neumos (KEXP Yule Tide)

Although they call James Brown the hardest working man in show business, it seems like Ted Leo should have a comparable title. Hardest working man in indie rock? Perhaps, but this evening his show began with excuses. Not exactly the best way to start a night of rock ’n’ roll. Leo—armed with only his guitar and a disarming smile—called to the crowd’s attention a laundry list of problems he and his Pharmacists would have to overcome during this particular gig. First of all, he was feeling “ragged.” Secondly, he had dropped his amp while setting up for the show and was unsure of the quality of his guitar sound. Finally, his drummer, the ferocious Chris Wilson, recently had to get stitches for an on-the-road injury. Adding up these disclaimers, I wasn’t expecting much from Leo and his cohorts, but something about the veteran musician’s cool demeanor as he waxed unsure made it seem like he was just being his usually modest, nice-guy self.

Turns out, that was the case.

After a few songs from his latest, 2004’s Shake the Sheets (Lookout!), Leo dedicated his next song to “his new friend Joan.” This fresh acquaintance got the most from her shout-out as the former Chisel frontman launched into “Where Have All the Rude Boys Gone?,” one of the several standout tracks from his modern classic, Hearts of Oak. The song is a five-minute encapsulation of why much of Leo’s oeuvre is downright essential listening, sporting the Cadillac of guitar riffs combined with a happy-go-lucky pop sensibility and lyrics lamenting the long-gone days of 2 tone, when bands like The Specials and Madness flourished.

It’s the kind of song that forces even the most curmudgeonly soul to take notice on first listen, and why Leo has garnered increasing attention over the last few years despite his disinterest in being co-opted into the mainstream. As Travis Morrison said in an interview shortly after the announced break-up of his former band, The Dismemberment Plan, “I don’t think we were as brave as Ted Leo, someone who could’ve made a million dollars on a major, but chose to stick it out on smaller labels.”

But for those at the Variety Playhouse (which Leo referred to as the largest club he and his band have ever played), this DIY mentality and dedication to quality music over superfluous cash flow was a blessing. “Me and Mia” (from Shake the Sheets) started awkwardly, but built up steam, becoming one of the night’s highlights, and “Timorous Me” was just as awe-inspiring as on record (from 2002’s The Tyranny of Distance).

Unfortunately left off the set list was the stunning “Ballad of the Sin Eater,” on which Leo has been known to rock the mic sans guitar (and with tambourine in tow). Also absent from the evening’s entertainment was Leo’s now-semi-famous (thanks to various blogs and P2P networks) cover of Kelly Clarkson’s “Since U Been Gone.” As crowd members shouted out requests for the song, Leo was prompted to address the absence, saying that he didn’t want the cover to become some kind of schtick he and his band were expected to perform.

Nevertheless, after more than an hour of energetic performance, Leo returned from backstage, saying, “I figured I’d just keep going rather than waste time back there,” referring to the long-held tradition of stalling before the encore. Leo then indulged the crowd in a pair of solo songs, including a moving version of “Dirty Old Town,” before one final full-band number and a gracious goodbye to the denizens of the Playhouse, ensuring all he’d be back. At show’s end, all excuses were null and void—those used at the beginning of the show, and those that could’ve been used by anyone claiming they didn’t get their money’s worth.

Ted Leo is a consummate musician: technically skilled, compositionally ambitious and steeped in heritage. His assimilation of diverse influences—Thin Lizzy, The Jam, The Clash, The Specials, Billy Bragg—lends his records a timeless, traditional quality that eagerly defies the imperatives of a nation intent on forgetting the past. In an age when monumental events like the attack on Pearl Harbor serve as marginal backdrops for big-screen romantic dramas, the need for accurate historical preservation is dire. That Leo’s music is short on didactic catchphrases and top-loaded with more nourishing content demonstrates a real passion for examining world tensions with humility, grace and an unflinching eye. His vivid musical portraiture limns the tolls that dishonest political and economic systems exact on average human beings.

Leo’s albums are seamlessly contiguous and bereft of filler; they’re packed with punchy melodies and dynamic rhythms front to back. Nevertheless, each has had one standout song pinioning its center, a song that digs closer to the marrow. On Ted Leo and the Pharmacists’ debut, The Tyranny of Distance, it was “Timorous Me,” a track that’s baroque Celtic swirls, giant chorus and winning melody resounded across the rest of the album. The essence of Tyranny’s leaner follow-up, Hearts of Oak, was perfectly distilled in its barnburner of a sixth track, the drum-and-bass rave-up “Ballad of the Sin Eater,” a carefully detailed account of anti-American sentiment abroad.

On Shake the Sheets, Leo’s vision has crystallized. The songs are shorter and tighter than anything he’s seared onto tape, and his complex melodic phrasing arrives pitch perfect. His characters stumble perilously below expansive skies, encroaching architecture and the detritus of war, plucking colorful motes of hope and gratitude from the chaos like flowers in a landfill. But here, the galvanizing standout track jumps from the middle to the very beginning—“Me and Mia,” a slingshot that sends the listener hurtling through the streamlined grandeur of the album’s remainder. The subtle evocations of its narrative seem to palpate the insecurities of privileged activists (“Don’t forget what it really means to hunger strike when you don’t really need to / Some are dying for a cause, but that don’t make it yours”) but soothes the same troubled conscience with its chorus, “Do you believe in something beautiful? / Then get up and be it.”

While much of the album hunkers down in sleek repetition (see the lean, syncopated “The Angels’ Share” and the slithering title track), the pronounced shifts in intensity of “Me and Mia” buoy it as an instantly memorable power-pop fist-pumper, not to mention a showcase for Leo’s commanding pipes. Far from apathetic mumbler or ironic provocateur, Leo sings like he means it—his voice is operatic, crisply articulated, and on songs like “Little Dawn,” graced with a P.J. Harvey-esque wah-wah quality. This unsentimental sincerity is what makes his music so convincing. With a candid urgency many musicians can only conjure when singing about the opposite sex (or just plain sex), Leo constantly observes and re-evaluates his—and, by extension, our own—place within the ramified tapestry of the human condition. At once confrontational and sympathetic, Shake the Sheets is the balm.

Until recently, I've harbored only one gripe with Ted Leo and The Pharmacists: The Tyranny of Distance (2001), that sweet bomb dropped on the playground of guitar pop, boasted an album cover closely resembling the Pacific Life logo. “That’s it,” I thought, “there's no unadulterated art left. Well, at least it wasn’t Victoria’s Secret again.” But all was forgiven when the music assured me Leo wasn’t dabbling in something so flimsy as mutual funds. His currency remains the immutable elements of any great pop song: chord change, vocal range and turn of phrase.

And yet, I’m compelled to tell anyone looking to own only the essential Ted Leo record that the much-lauded Hearts of Oak isn’t it. Of course, if you’re taking this kind of reductive approach, I might ask you, why Ted Leo at all and not Mellencamp? But that sort of inflammatory elitism obscures his fundamental irresistibility. When Leo’s on his game, he’s the life not just of the pop literati party but of anyone’s.

Take the album’s should-be leadoff track. There’s no better way to lament our country’s slow democratic suicide than through a litany of paranoia and conservatism followed by the innocent refrain, “Where have all the rude boys gone?” As is always the case with Leo, whose tireless, boyish vocals could buoy any lyrical millstone, there’s as much eloquent rallying as there is protest. “Bridges, Squares” offers image after image of a world in which we can still be agents of our fate, fate free from dogma and full of creativity:

“This is not the time to ossify,” Leo insists. “It’s not the end of wondering why. It’s not in your faith or your apostasy. It’s not the end of history.”

And if Leo doesn’t slay you with his heady, poignant verse, his axe is even sharper. Find me a guitarist whose licks better champion the virtues of terse, compact playing than Ted Leo’s. The rare solo, as on the Tyranny standout “St. John the Divine” or Hearts’ excellent title track, is virtually slingshot out of the very tension his economic playing builds. If less were ever more, it's right here.

So in spite of its many virtues, why does Hearts fall short of its predecessor? There are moments when it feels like summer reading. You know it’s good—your teachers insist—but it’s not where you’re at right now. You’d rather cop an easier buzz.

“The Ballad of a Sin Eater” is the biggest culprit of what I reluctantly call “The Elvis Costello Syndrome.” By the end of the song, instead of hitting “repeat,” you’re reaching for the thesaurus. Leo’s just leveled you with some behemoth of an abstraction—in this instance, call it a mythological travelogue and leave it at that—and you can’t even remember the chorus. Or was there one?

Fortunately, listens this onerous are few and far between, but their presence raises this related weakness: the occasional lack of hooks. Tyranny impressed precisely because it carried its smarts so effortlessly, as if the songwriting yoke really were easy. Meanwhile, Hearts seems to catch Leo straining a bit, which in turn asks more of the listener. The writing is more oblique and less emotionally evocative, and his vocals seem a tad streteched on the more demanding numbers.