The Ethical Scumbag

Dueling Bartenders: The Manliest Sweet Drink

2011-10-17T08:04:00.003-05:00

It's the weekend, which means we're back at the bar with AskMen's resident bartenders, Josh and Luke. They're both skilled at their trade, but between them runs the age-old schism of bartending: Should you drink the "original" version or a recent innovation? We won't pick sides, but it's worth doing lots of experimenting to figure out who's right.

Luke, the traditionalist: The old-school Sidecar

While the Sidecar is a cocktail with a rich tradition and a predecessor from the very early stages of cocktail history, for our purposes here, it's helpful to think of it this way: It's the best, most foolproof way to get people to drink brandy.

Curiously enough, this most venerable of old recipes is appreciated both by history-minded barkeeps and the more casual “fruity martinis” crowd at once, which is a pretty rare convergence of opinions. Here's why that works: While the recipe is a study in simplicity and efficient design, it has a few particular attributes that are appealing to the sweet-toothed, namely, a sugar-crusted rim and a very user-friendly citrus profile. Those two qualities helped the Sidecar make inroads into the mainstream bar world, roughly around the time of the resurgence of the Cosmopolitan. But it's deceiving, since this isn't an overly sweetened cocktail -- it's a perfectly sweetened cocktail. Here the sugar is meant as a balance to the tart lemon, not as a flavor overload.

don't hate on the sugared rim

That sugared rim isn't the bullsh*t modern affectation it seems like either. The Sidecar's origin actually comes from an early style of cocktail from the mid-19th century called the crusta, as Ted Haigh points out in his great resource, Vintage Spirits and Forgotten Cocktails, although the Sidecar as we know it didn't come about until sometime around World War I. While a Brandy Crusta is a bit more involved, a Sidecar streamlines the ingredients, which is something the home bartender can always appreciate. This is a simple recipe to follow, of equal parts brandy (or Cognac, most typically), Cointreau (the preferred type of the overarching triple sec liqueur category) and lemon juice. One, two, three. It's that simple.

While you're free to adjust the amount of each ingredient to your taste, the original-style recipe calls for three equal parts. I prefer a boozier pour myself, but that's because I'm a sot.

Sidecar Recipe

1 oz Cognac
1 oz Cointreau
1 oz fresh lemon juice

Use the leftover lemon to rinse the rim of the glass, then rotate the outer edge of the glass in a plate of sugar.

Shake over ice, strain into a glass.

read the rest at Ask Men

Bush sounds nostalgic and new

2011-10-17T07:56:00.000-05:00

BUSH With Chevelle and Filter
At: the House of Blues, Saturday

When the iconic, hard-charging guitar riff of “Machinehead’’ from Bush’s 1994 massive hit debut bit through the thick air of the sold-out House of Blues on Saturday night, it seemed an indication the British band would make good on the implied premise of this nostalgia-mining tour. (Or that a New England Patriots game was about to kick off.) After all, the three acts on the package, including industrial-rock screamers Filter and sludgy metal trio Chevelle were all formed in the early ’90s.

Quite thoughtful, then, of Bush’s still youthful Gavin Rossdale to have preserved himself in some sort of cryogenically sealed chamber over the past 20 years; it made the time-shift easier to swallow. Surprisingly, it was some of the newer material from the band’s recent “The Sea of Memories’’ that stood out most. Songs like the current single “The Afterlife,’’ which you may know as “that one new song on the radio that sounds like Bush,’’ showed a hookier ear than ever, channeling back into the “dark,’’ muscular rock style that Bush helped inject into modern radio years ago.

On songs like “I Believe in You,’’ Rossdale proved he could still bring it, with both his voice and his body in fine form. Looking outrageously fit in a cut-up white T-shirt, he made it hard to concentrate on anything other than his rippling shoulders and abs. Come on, dude. All that yoga with wife Gwen Stefani, perhaps? Rossdale’s been busy in his capacity as a professional celebrity in recent years, so he seemed determined to remind the crowd, presumably made up entirely of paparazzi and TMZ employees, why people cared in the first place.

Past hits performed by the four-piece band (drummer Robin Goodridge is the only other original member with Rossdale) such as “The Chemicals Between Us’’ and “Greedy Fly,’’ with their foreboding guitar chopping and controlled feedback, served well to jog the casual fan’s memory, while the more iconic numbers such as “Everything Zen,’’ with a left-turn Talking Heads interlude in the middle, and “Comedown’’ whipped the crowd into a frenzy. Rossdale, singing from a wireless mike in the crowd, or playing guitar on the barricade, further stoked the fandom fire. Back onstage, he writhed back into his rock star martyr pose, coming off as a cross between a Russell Brand character and Sweaty Sax man from “Lost Boys.’’ But the illusion worked, for those in the crowd who wanted to believe.

Speaking of too-handsome frontmen, Chevelle and Filter played enjoyably moribund sets, digging back into their own respective trove of singles. The former impressed in particular, with its gritty, down-tuned metal and soaring vocals on such past hits as “The Red’’ and “Send the Pain Below.’’

Boston Globe

Bitter truths

2011-10-06T09:22:00.001-05:00

Photo: JOEL VEAK

Wespend much of our time talking about alcohol in consideration of itsform (its tastes, colors, and textures), but less frequently do weturn to its functions. The primary one is obvious: it makes you feelreally, really good - or really, really bad. (One often follows theother, you may have found.) Throughout much of history, drinkingserved another function: alcohol was believed to have medicinalproperties. During Prohibition, one of the only legal ways topurchase whiskey or brandy was by getting a prescription from yourdoctor (!), and people throughout the world have long sworn bycertain boozy home remedies. Some still laud the digestive-aidqualities of certain bitter spirits like Italian amari, includingfernets, which are typically made with dozens of botanicals, likerhubarb, myrrh, gentian root, chamomile, red cinchona bark, andgalangal, to name a few. The most popular variety is Fernet-Branca,which has been produced in Italy since 1845 (though as you'll see,"popular" is a relative term).

"Thepopularization of Fernet has a hundred stories," says Tyler Wang ofDrink(348 Congress Street, Boston, 617.695.1806) and No.9 Park(9 Park Street, Boston, 617.742.9991). "I read once that bartendersstarted drinking it because they could fill up their espresso cupsand get away with shooting it on the job. I've also heard that itshistoric unpopularity made it the most cost-effective way for bars to‘fortify' their tenders." Owners certainly are more willing tolook the other way when staff are drinking something they can'tmove off the shelves. And considering that its taste can gently bedescribed as a bark- and mud-infused shot of nostril-burningmouthwash, it's not hard to see why it still hasn't exactlycrossed over to the general drinking public.

Butmaybe there is something to the medicine thing, Wang says. "I thinkits medicinal qualities make it the perfect choice for anever-hungover industry. Rumor is that Fernet's overbearingherbaceousness, poison-like, actually kick-starts the body's immunesystem. . . . No one would drink this stuff for fun, right?"

Probablynot, unless it offered another valuable function - namely,bestowing insider status on those in the know. It's that purposethat Fernet, aka "the bartender's handshake," has primarilyserved in Boston over the past few years. In many fields, it'sconsidered a badge of honor to be able to withstand the harsheststuff available, whether it's brutal noise bands among music nerdsor difficult avant-garde films among cinephiles. Why should the barworld be any different?

"Bitters,Fernet being the ultimate example, have a challenging flavorprofile," says Bob McCoy of IslandCreek Oyster Bar(500 Commonwealth Avenue, Boston, 617.532.5300). "It's somethingthe masses make a face at, which in turn makes it all the moreenticing for people on the inside. So it becomes a rite of passage ofsorts and symbolizes the camaraderie among service professionals."

Butthere are some user-friendly options to help the medicine go down.The stalwart Toronto cocktail, made with rye, Fernet, sugar, andAngostura bitters, is one example, says Wang. The bittersweet,vegetal aperitif Cynar, with its artichoke notes, is anothercompromise. So is the slightly bitter Italian vermouth Punt e Mes.Either one can be subbed into a Manhattan or a Negroni for an easyintroduction.

McCoythinks Santa Maria al Monte could be next in line for thebitters-chasing crowd. "It's got all the bitter and herbaceousqualities of Fernet with a touch more sweetness, a real round flavor,and balance." The Czech herbal bitters Becherovka has been on therise as well, he says, and could be a gateway bitter. "It's gotgreat spice flavors of cinnamon, nutmeg, and clove, and it's greatin cocktails, in hot drinks, or on its own."

Ramazzotti,with its root-beery citrus flavors, might be considered even moreapproachable. And Meletti is a viscous, floral, and saffron-forwardamaro I've seen growing in popularity among bartenders. The mostpopular and venerable Italian digestif, Amaro Montenegro, likewisecaptivates with a bittersweet balance hinting at orange and caramel.

Allof the above are accessible ways to train your palate for Fernet. Butafter trying a few with bartender Joel Barbieri at the WestSide Lounge(1680 Massachusetts Avenue, Cambridge, 617.441.5566), attempting tofigure out which might be the heir to the bitter throne, I realizedsomething: if you do manage to develop a taste for the hard stuff,you may never want to go back. One seemed too syrupy, the next tooinsubstantial. Others, quite frankly, left a bitter taste in ourmouths, and we kept wanting to go back to our preferred poison.Eventually the answer came. "You know the next Fernet is?"Barbieri said. "Fernet."

EITS: Songs make message clear, even without words

2011-10-06T09:15:00.001-05:00

Explosions in the Sky at the Orpheum

Genre-tagging is a necessary shorthand evil. You’d typically refer to the Texas band Explosions in the Sky, who performed at The Orpheum Theatre last night, as post-rock and call it a day. More interesting is how the “emo’’ qualifier has followed the band around for its 12-plus years. Granted, no one knows what that means anymore, but in this case it’s oddly apt.

As an instrumental group, it’s surprising just how deft they are at seizing listeners by the heart with their visceral, body-rending guitar quests of emotional catharsis without any lyrical content to latch onto. The silence amid the noise is disquieting.

You might call the four piece band’s style of performing shoe-gaze, as well, with the elaborate pedal-fiddling and feedback manipulation necessary, although star-gazing would better serve, as its set of sprawling, but precisely composed, heavenly rock symphonies illustrated.

“Last Known Surroundings’’ began in the abyss, with the guitar echoes affecting a leviathan’s mating cry while martial drums tapped out a call to arms above. The interlocking loops of upper register, delayed-guitar figures swirled through the earthly mire before rocketing the proceedings to a triumphant, roiling crescendo.

Songs like that, and “Postcard From 1952,’’ contained multitudes, not only in the world-building, and world-destroying imagery they evoked, but also in the more concrete realm of musicality.

The average song, clocking in around 10 minutes, loped through various time signatures, a rainbow of guitar tones, and enough dynamic shifts that even the most contemplative, delicate passages kept the audience tensed for the impending release of crashing cymbals and guitar artillery.

Case in point: “The Birth and Death of the Day,’’ a song that sounded like the cosmos in flux with its celestial, ascending guitars and tectonic bass blasts like godly war horns.

It was the soundtrack to a sped-up, time-delay reel of grass growing, trees blooming, winter descending, animals decaying. In the song’s later passages, the band affected the sound of hurtling comets crashing to earth, which sounded uncommonly like explosions in the near sky.

Boston Globe

After dubstep controversy, Blake steps lightly

2011-10-06T09:11:00.001-05:00

James Blake at the Paradise Rock Club, Monday

You might not expect a precious London electronic music composer to be at the center of a music beef, but that’s where James Blake found himself last week, when an interview he gave to the Boston Phoenix decrying the “macho’’ “frat-boy’’ posturing of the American dubstep audience kicked up a controversy. At his sold-out performance at the Paradise Rock Club on Monday, he arrived as the British ambassador politicking for the gentler, more thoughtful potential of the genre.

Seated at a bank of keyboards, Blake teased out spare, heavily effected chords and key rolls that matched the oscillations of his uncanny vocals, something like Aaron Neville trapped inside a computer, on the new song “Tell Me Are You With Me.’’ A palpable hush fell over the crowd for the emotionally intimate performance that often had much more in common with the likes of piano-crooners like Feist, or even Joni Mitchell - both of whom Blake would cover - than the prevailing party culture.

Joined onstage by his band, utilizing a hybrid drum kit, guitar, and effects triggers, Blake’s sonic palate expanded. During “Unluck’’ they erected a cathedral of organ sounds, one slow, ascending chord after another, while a clatter of percussion click-clacked like hardened raindrops amid muted blasts of static.

On songs like “Lindisfarne 1’’ Blake’s vocals were looped and harmonized, folded over and into themselves, his melodies melting into quickened pools of mercury. Throughout “I Never Learnt to Share’’ the feedback loops were injected with trembling noise bursts that coalesced into the roar of an aircraft at liftoff. It threatened to turn into a club banger but demurred before a second passage arrived. With a banjo effect on the guitar, the song sounded almost rustic, a futuristic folk hymn.

A more traditional club track, “CMYK,’’ with its simmering hi-hats and bass throb, differentiated itself with a samba beat. Surprisingly, the Feist cover “Limit to Your Love’’ was the closest to stereotypical dubstep, with its echoing drums, piano, and bass wobble. Little wonder then that Blake seems disappointed by his boorish peers; there’s nothing of his subtlety on display in the clubs right now, or anywhere else for that matter.

Boston Globe

Home Entertainment Going Out thursty Storyville: Live happily ever after

2011-10-06T09:06:00.004-05:00

MICHAEL ERB

Night clubs are known for lots of things. Dancing is one of those things. So is prowling for sketchy hookups. And perhaps most renowned is blowing hundreds of dollars on bottle service so everyone knows how important you are. Conspicuously absent from that list is enjoying quality cocktails and bar service. Storyville, the re-imagining of the longtime Saint space in the Back Bay, could change that perception.

The bar program in its intimate, speakeasy-like Bordello Room is off to a good start in that regard, with Bill Codman (recently of Island Creek Oyster and Woodward) at the helm, as well as inventive food from Louis DiBiccari of Sel de la Terre.

The focus here is on seminal New Orleans-style cocktails and a full range of tiki drinks and fizzes, as well as Codman’s own neo-classic recipes. One standout, the Lady Day, is a perfect (if unpredictable) pairing of bitter with bitter, with Campari and passion fruit taking a gin base. The sweetening touch of honey and a softening egg white play back and forth on the citrusy edge. Another must-try — the Pineapple Fizz, made with pineapple and sage-infused tequila shaken with citrus and an egg white to a fluffy consistency — is supremely quaffable.

A Day At The Races represents from the tiki realm, but interestingly eschews the de facto rum base. Made with Beefeater 24, falernum, lemon and pomegranate, it’s like a more sophisticated version of a Mind Eraser, with a palate-cleaning champagne float toward the end.

Next door in the club room, the cocktail list is more streamlined, but still interesting, considering that yes, they do have bottle service. Here the focus is again on fresh ingredients, but the menu is broken into four types of cordials that guests can mix with their spirit of choice. One highlight is the Cafe Mole, a base made with fresh-ground coffee bean, cocoa, vanilla, orange peel and chipotle. Whether you take it with tequila, vodka, rum or whiskey is up to you.

Club membership

“What I wanted to do with crafted cocktails itself isn’t revolutionary,” Codman says. “Putting it inside a club is.”
It’s an approach that will hopefully rub off on the clubbing crowd.

“I think the club people will come and embrace it, because there’s certainly nothing like this available anywhere else.”

Storyville
90 Exeter St., Boston
617-236-1134
www.storyvilleboston.com

Boston Metro

Kasabian ‘Velociraptor!’

2011-09-27T11:09:00.004-05:00

Turns out that defiant swagger, festival-filling anthems, and snarling melodicism aren’t the only things that Kasabian learned from Oasis. The British rockers have also got the melody-borrowing bug. Listening to “Velociraptor!,’’ Kasabian’s fourth album, you’ll spend half the time trying to figure out the melodic quotation. Sometimes it’s easy, like the breezy ’60s psychedelic tones of “Le Fee Verte,’’ where the band sings about “Lucy in the sky.’’ “Let’s Roll Just Like We Used To’’ lifts the melody from 1980s dance pop hit “Let the Music Play’’ or whatever mystical Eastern musical mode it came from originally. “Switchblade Smiles’’ has pounding hip-hop beats under triumphant cinematic strings, like the soundtrack to a Hong Kong martial arts blockbuster. “Days Are Forgotten’’ churns on threatening bass loops that open up to expansive choruses before tightening on a hairpin turn. “Goodbye Kiss’’ is the rare acoustic, relatively slower, “sensitive’’ number that crests on a simplistic retro-girl band romance vibe. Brain tickling aside, this is a supremely enjoyable, stylish, and modern-sounding record, which isn’t easy to pull off for a guitar band with a tendency to look backward. (Out today) ESSENTIAL “Let’s Roll Just Like We Used To’’

Boston Globe

The timely pop return of Emergency Music

2011-09-27T11:05:00.003-05:00

The music industry as we once knew it is dead and buried, and the pre- and post-Internet eras seem like two entirely distinct periods now. But there exists an entire generation of bands who had the unenviable fortune of forming during the uncertain limbo years, still tethered to the swiftly expiring traditions, but without clearly delineated paths through the tangled electronic future. Around the turn of the millennium most of us were online, but compared to the way we consume music now, with constantly updated music blogs, SoundCloud, and Spotify streaming an infinite supply of newness nonstop, that approach — a mix of rudimentary online services mixed with actual trips to the record store — seems positively archaic.

I bring this up in relation to Emergency Music, a longtime Boston favorite, because they came along at what may have been exactly the wrong time.

"I would agree that Emergency Music started at a rough time to be in a band if you're comparing it to starting up a band in 2011," frontman Jesse Duquette offers via email. "The advent of social media and blogosphering is a huge resource for bands looking to network and get the ball rolling, and that's something that was, at best, in its infancy when we came around. It's a whole lot easier now for bands to get their stuff out there and get 'found.' It happens all the time. None of us is particularly tech-savvy so I'm not sure if given the chance we could have even taken advantage of that."

A pity, because the songs that Duquette and the rest of the band would later go on to record on 2003's Kiss the Culprit deserved to be heard far and wide. The sleek, driving acoustic "Prodigal Son," the jangly, hook-drunk "Up for Hours," and the euphoric shout-along "So Long to the Subtle" were among Boston's aught indie classics. It was exquisite mod-pop melody mixed with new wave keyboard punk attitude. You'll Be the Death of Us All, Honey (2007) found the band fleshing out their sound with more expansive instrumentation and arrangements, and blending in Americana brushstrokes. The proverbial "mature" step forward.

"The earlier stuff, through Kiss the Culprit, at least, was absolutely informed only by us wanting to have fun and make people dance," Duquette writes. "And alcohol. Then, like any band I guess, we got a little antsy within the three-minute pop song paradigm and wanted to try a few different-ish things."

Either album would have fit snugly into the reverb-laden retro-wave class that dominates the blogs now. Perhaps the forthcoming record — working title Tonie Morrison Hotel — will remedy that oversight.

"I think it has our best songs to date, definitely the most fun songs to play live," Duquette notes, although every band ever says that. "There are songs that are maybe the noisiest stuff we've done, along with some of the most stripped-down." The few unfinished demos I've heard are a good start in that direction, although while "The Dinner Party" is more dusty country-road meandering and soulful harmonizing than raucous, "Obligation" seems like it could be downright blistering.

Another thing that's different about the band's approach today from the necessities of the pre-Internet years is that they're definitely not "getting in the van." That's a choice brought about by both the realities of thirtysomething lifestyles, members relocating, and an overall looser approach to chasing the prize. "When we were touring and playing tons of shows every month it was a total blast and it absolutely has its merits. But for me personally, I got a little burnt out on the whole social aspect of it and having to be a constant PR machine, having to talk about the band and being in a band and other peoples' bands all of the time. There was something a little unseemly about it to me."

Instead, for the past three years they've limited the schedule to a show or two a year, sometimes less. The infrequency has made the concerts more of an event. "To be honest, our expectations were never very lofty, so the fact that we can take a year off from playing a single show and still have a ton of people still care enough to show up is its own brand of success to us."

EMERGENCY MUSIC + SOCCER MOM + AUTOCHROME + MARCONI | T.T. the Bear's Place, 10 Brookline St, Cambridge | September 23 @ 9 pm | 18+ | $10 | 617.492.2327

Boston Phoenix

Ladytron’s ‘Gravity the Seducer’

2011-09-27T11:03:00.002-05:00

This is “our most coherent work, in terms of moods and themes,’’ Daniel Hunt of the venerable British electro-pop act Ladytron has said of his group’s fifth album. That’s an understatement. There’s little variation at play here in an album whose creeping, somber tone remains largely static. Missing are hints of the more epic, guitar-forward foreboding of their album “Witching Hour.’’ “White Elephant’’ chases a baroque harpsichord figure over horn synths that spread out and darken like spilled ink; it’s a chamber dance with a beautiful ghost bride who turns to tendrils of mist in your embrace. “Mirage’’ is a punchy dark-wave track whose hook hints at pop potential and serves as a touchstone for the mildly repetitive album. The occasional live drums, as on the instrumental “Ritual,’’ pop out amidst the typically flat, programmed affect. Strangely, one of the only songs without a human voice here somehow seems the most organic. With Ladytron, the aloofness is the appeal, but sometimes it would be nice to be invited in. (Out today)

ESSENTIAL “White Elephant’

Boston Globe

Motion City Soundtrack dig through their past to bring fans tour

2011-09-27T11:01:00.003-05:00

When’s the ideal time to become a fan of a band? Right from the start? Perhaps, but then you’re inevitably going to reach a day when they stop playing your favorite songs live. Show up to the party late and you may miss the good old days. The idea behind Minneapolis’ favorites Motion City Soundtrack’s “4 Albums. 2 Nights. 7 Cities.” tour is to make everyone happy. Over the course of two nights, they’ll play their four records in their entirety, reaching back to 2003’s debut “I Am the Movie,” where the band established their Moog-heavy pop-punk sound.

“We had such success in Chicago when we had done it before [performing one different album over three nights in 2009], we felt like we wanted to bring it to some other people,” guitarist Josh Cain explains. “This is really for the people who have been with us for a long time, that really miss certain songs.”

Reaching back into the catalog is something fans of many bands wish might happen more often.
“At a normal show, once you have four records there is too much material for people to catch everything,”?he says. “People may love every song, but they’re not what you’d play when you’re trying to get a new audience to like you.”

With a tour like this, it’s safe to say the fans are already fully on board. It serves another, time-shifting purpose, Cain says.

“I think there’s something about the way it transports people back to when they first saw us in whatever small venue in the middle of nowhere with five people, and saw us to do whatever it is that made them fall in love with coming to our shows.”

Metro

Thursty: Abigail’s nails it

2011-09-27T10:59:00.002-05:00

COURTNEY SACCO/METRO

Another month, another new Kendall Square restaurant. Forget technology, this is the new dining hub of Cambridge. The most promising of the lot, so far, is Abigail’s, a craft beer and cocktail gastropub from co-owner and chef Jason Ludwig, formerly of East Coast Grill (my favorite restaurant, by the way).

Like many of the other spots in the area, there’s a certain minimal, science lab aesthetic at work here, but it’s tempered by organic touches. The long wooden bar made from English elm rescued from a barn in Western, Mass., takes in tons of light from big windows that span the length of the space.

“The whole thing is windows everywhere you go,” says bar manager Rob Iurilli. “There’s not a place where you can’t see out.”

Makes for good sight-lines, but you’ll want to place your focus on what’s going on behind the bar. The drinks menu is broken up into categories like Tall N Cool, Slushies or Shots and Combos. In the latter, the Hostile Take Over, with a mist of Green Chartreuse over Cambridge Brewing Company’s Hefeweizen, is aptly named. Post-shift industry workers take note: A PBR tallboy and Four Roses Bourbon is only $8. The fact that the place is open until 1 here, serving food late, should help draw that crowd as well.

There’s also the fact that Abigail’s is one of the few recent openings touting “craft cocktails” that seem to live up to the name. Classics and riffs abound, but one standout is the Manhattan variant Mr. Grant, with Rittenhouse rye, Melettti amari, Carpano Antica and Jerry Thomas’ Decanter bitters. It’s Iurilli’s favorite too.

“That one is turning out to be gangbusters,” he says. “We supplant the regular sweet vermouth with Carpano, which has a little bit bigger flavor profile. The bitters add that touch of spice, and the amari has notes of chocolate.”

Topped off with a flamed orange peel, it’s got great spice and citrus on the nose. So far everything at the bar here seems to be right on the nose as well.

Metro

Getting an alt rock buzz cut with Yuck

2011-09-27T10:57:00.003-05:00

DINOSAUR JR, JR “It’s quite nice, the bands that we’re compared to are good and stuff,” says Yuck’s Daniel Blumberg. “I love those bands.”

Somewhere along the line in the history of music journalism, writing about the way a record sounds turned into drawing up a laundry list of predecessor comparisons. Roughly around the time the second rock and roll record was made, I'd guess. It's a problem that's become further convoluted in recent years as the vast well of influence-bait has grown deeper, and we've entrenched ourselves in a postmodern retro morass of referential one-upmanship. The ever-shortening recovery period between the reemergence of music past has led to hash-tag (and headline) criticism. Yuck: LOL via @DinoJr #grunge

That might not be fair. The extremely young, extremely hyped UK indie guitar band Yuck aren't merely grunge revivalists after all. They also seem like they're into shoegaze too.

Those two back-trending approaches dominate the 12 songs on February's homonymous Fat Possum debut. "Suck" finds Billy Corgan guitar squalls treading water alongside Thurston Moore vocals. The plaintive, acoustic "Suicide Policeman" is a new-millennium Evan and Juliana trading druggy, lovelorn verses; while "The Wall" and "Holing Out" alternate between scorched and clean J Mascis guitar tones and muffled vocal effects, grunge-era lo-fi production, and blissed-out harmonies. Other of the slower songs seem like My Bloody Valentine tracks performed at a show where they forgot to unpack most of their guitar pedals.

None of which is meant as criticism. The record just might be brilliant. Lead single "Get Away" is among the most exciting three and half minutes of guitar music released all year. The question is: does that excitement inhere in the anachronistic novelty — the intrigue of a past artifact smuggled forward into the future?

I don't think so. The record is successful both in its referential overload and as its own discrete entity, in much the way you need not be familiar with everything hinted at in an allusion-rich text or film to follow the basics of the plot. How many UK indie kids own copies of Green Mind or Dirty, anyway?

For his part, guitarist and vocalist Daniel Blumberg (who shares songwriting and vocal duties with partner Max Bloom) isn't trying to bullshit away the comparisons like so many other of his disingenuous contemporaries. The two made a previous stab at teenage-retroism with the moderately successful throwback-style outfit Cajun Dance Party.

"It's not frustrating," Blumberg says of the constant comparisons to his grungy forefathers, in a halting, rather difficult interview. "I think people, when they listen to the record, they can have their own relationship with it. There's a few songs people pick up on for certain comparisons. Yeah. It's quite nice, the bands that we're compared to are good and stuff. I love those bands. It's really cool. I don't know, we weren't trying to do anything, or we didn't have any aims or goals apart from making songs we were happy with."

Blumberg seems to be hinting at a future departure in style, but whether that was imminent in newer material he was working on, or even what that direction might be, he couldn't say. He's 21 years old, after all, with a lengthy musical career ahead. Just don't ask him to plot it out. "I think we've just started and we're just writing songs," he says. "If I was, like, we're gonna make this album, and we really had an intention. . . . " It wouldn't have worked? He never finishes that thought.

don't know what we'll be doing in eight years, though," Blumberg says. Who knows what any bands will be doing by then? What does a retread of a rehash of a retro-movement sound like? As long as the songs are this good, who really cares?

Boston Phoenix

Liquid: Cordially Yours

2011-09-27T10:55:00.002-05:00

photo: joel veak

The laws regarding drinking in Massachusetts are a bit complicated. In fact, they're so Byzantine that many bars, particularly those without full liquor licenses, have a hard time understanding what they can and cannot serve. This summer, the Boston Licensing Board dropped the hammer on two such spots, Cafe Meridian in Eastie and Vlora in the Back Bay, inspecting stock that had been seized by police to determine whether it complied with the specifications of their limited licenses. The board ultimately ruled that Meridian's infused vodkas and tequilas could be categorized as cordials; much of Vlora's product, on the other hand, was essentially hard liquor.

What exactly is the difference between cordials and hard liquor? The law says it's a matter of sugar content. In layman's terms: if you float enough herbs, fruits, or plants in a bottle of booze, raising the sugar content to no less than 2.5 percent, then you're good to go.

But for some reason, the categorizations don't always seem so clear-cut. There seem to be a lot of exceptions to these supposedly hard-and-fast rules, and things can get very confusing for mixologists.

Jillian Rocco of The Salty Pig (130 Dartmouth Street, Boston, 617.536.6200), which operates with a license allowing for "wines and malt beverages with liqueurs," is among those who find the details hard to suss out. "It really has nothing to do with the alcohol content," says Rocco. "Surprisingly, I can carry Green Chartreuse, which is 110 proof, but not whiskey or gin, some of which are only 80 proof. To that end, cognac is considered a cordial, yet I can't carry it. What gives?"

But there is an upside to working within this confusing category. A limited palette can prove as inspiring to a creative bartender as to any artist. Rocco says she thought her head would explode at first, but ultimately she relished the challenge. "I sat down and thought of all of the spirits that I love that are considered cordials and took it from there," she says. "It actually helped me focus on the task at hand. I had a solid list of things that I could carry instead of a never-ending beverage journal filled with scads and scads of spirits."

Nick Korn of Erbaluce (69 Church Street, Boston, 617.426.6969) jokes that a limited license can feel "like bartending with eight fingers tied behind my back." But he's learned to channel his frustrations into new approaches. An attempt to make a gin-less Negroni ($10) led Korn to a recipe that "mimics the characteristic bitter flavor" using dry and sweet vermouth, as well as a bitter orange liqueur. "I found that I wasn't missing the alcohol content provided by the gin, but rather the depth added by its aromatics," he says. "I ended up making juniper bitters - with flavors of juniper berries, black pepper, coriander, angelica, and citrus peel - to add depth and add back in the intimation of gin."

And when he became too frustrated with the limited cordials available, Korn started making his own. They've shown up in his variation on a Pimm's Cup ($9), made with a cognac base infused with ginger, orange, sugar, and tisane (an herbal tea made with aromatics like angelica, lovage, coriander, oregano, and marjoram) and mixed with fresh lemon juice and soda water. Another reconstructed classic, the Aroma di Venus ($10), riffs on a gimlet. Here he infuses grappa with marjoram and sugar; then he combines it with fresh lime juice and a spray of lavender-leaf essence. It's intended to be an introduction to grappa, a spirit unfamiliar to many guests. "Since adding it to the list, many guests have asked for ‘that grappa drink,' a phrase I had never heard called out before at a bar, and about which I am very proud," says Korn.

Limitation encourages guests to branch out and converse with their bartender, he adds, since they can't simply order their stock drink. A bartender can recommend a cocktail that calls to mind one of their favorites, like Rocco's Amaro Old Fashioned ($10). Modeled after the classic cocktail, it uses the bitter Italian digestif in place of the verboten whiskey.

Something good does come from weird laws every now and then, it seems. Necessity may be the mother of invention, but scarcity is often the midwife.

Stuff

The Rapture, ‘In the Grace of Your Love’

2011-09-27T10:53:00.004-05:00

New York’s post-punk-electro pioneers the Rapture invigorated the indie-rock world with their chaotic rhythms, disco beats, and tattered guitars melded with electronics. A decade of imitators later and you might not fault them for meandering further afield with “In the Grace of Your Love.’’ The expansive “How Deep Is Your Love?’’ revolves around a looping house-style piano riff, saxophone, and layers of dense percussion that build toward a spiritual righteousness you’d expect from a preacher on the saving-souls circuit. “It Takes Time to Be a Man’’ is a soulful slow jam over what sounds like a pensive hip-hop piano sample. “Come Back to Me,’’ on the other hand, features a disposable vocal from the campiest gay club in town, and the title track is a sodden heap of wailing. Opener “Sail Away’’ is a better execution of that same approach. With its meat-and-potatoes disco-punk beat and rousing keys, it feels like it’s reaching beyond the known universe of the typical club scene. (Out tomorrow)

Boston Globe

Shaking his way to the top

2011-09-27T10:44:00.004-05:00

WHO

Tyler Wang

WHAT

The 24-year-old San Diego transplant and Somerville resident is a rising star in Boston’s cocktail scene. After graduating from the New England Culinary Institute, Wang spent a year and a half as an apprentice, then bartender, at Barbara Lynch’s Drink, one of the best cocktail bars in the city, under the tutelage of renowned bar whiz John Gertsen. He’ll soon begin a new job at No. 9 Park, where he hopes to help revitalize the bar that was instrumental in elevating the art of the cocktail.

Q. How did you get started in the industry?

A. The last thing you need to do at culinary school is an apprentice program. I started off externing at Drink in March of 2010, and I was doing that under the auspices of the school for about six months. After that, no way I could leave, so I stuck on board. I wanted to learn about the ground rules of a really great restaurant and I worked alongside some really amazing bartenders. About four months ago I started bartending, real bartender shifts, taking care of people myself. It was a big step.

Q. You’re about to start a new gig at Lynch’s No. 9 Park, a bar that played a big role in kick-starting the cocktail renaissance here.

A. No. 9, it’s the flagship as far as Drink is concerned. Working there is one of those opportunities you just can’t pass up, when you’re offered that sort of thing. As I understand it, without having worked there yet, it’s an amazingly strong foundation for people who work there to learn everything there is to know about beer, wine, cocktails, and the restaurant industry itself… . I think the reason I am going over there, the main pull for me, is looking to pull No. 9 out of the shadow of John Gertsen. As wonderful as he is, there needs to be a life beyond Gertsen. Which is funny because he created the entire system. Bar manager Ted Kilpatrick, an amazing bartender and hospitality professional, is looking for ways to reinvent and liven up the No. 9 bar, to kind of take the current cocktail program and expand it drastically. When people talk about No. 9 they talk about food, wine, service… . People have to be reminded there’s a great cocktail bar there.

Q. A lot of bars are presenting themselves as “craft cocktail’’ bars now. Is that just an empty catch phrase?

A. It’s definitely a catch phrase. People are saying the phrase craft cocktail bar as a way to get people in the door. While it might just be a marketing standpoint, I think it still sort of helps. Every little drop in the bucket helps. Even if they’re just squeezing lemons and otherwise using frozen lime juice, you get a foot in the door. Every bar that opens up that decides to use fresh citrus, even if it’s not the best bar in America, it’s a foot in the door for those of us who want to make something out of this cocktail scene.

Q. There’s a fine line between being a craft cocktail expert and still being a hospitality professional, right? Do you think some people leave one side out?

A. Absolutely. At the Boston Bartender’s Collaborative we did a meeting yesterday that was on hospitality. There were no parameters other than what does it mean to be hospitable, in a bar, restaurant, salon, retail outlet. Every business finds ways to take care of their guests. That’s something that can be lost when you’re looking at strictly craft cocktail bars. No matter how good your cocktail is, with 37 of the best ingredients in the world in glass, if you’re treating the person who is drinking it like [trash] they’re not going to care… . That’s why when people ask what I do I say I make people laugh. Sometimes I shake a cocktail, sometimes stir one, but the goal is to make people happy.

Q. What are you drinking these days?

A. Right now I have been having a lot of fun with a cocktail called the Widow’s Kiss. It’s an apple brandy drink, 1 ½ ounces apple brandy, ¾ ounce Benedictine, ¾ ounce yellow chartreuse, and 2 dashes of Angosturra bitters. They’re delicious. Cocktails really stem from the weather. It’s late summer right now, getting into fall, which is why I turned to apple brandy. Apples will come into season in the next month or so, so I’m always trying to stay seasonal, as odd as it is. I’m not going to get apple brandy that was made this year, but it kind of puts me in the mood for the season to come.

Boston Globe

Liquid: Glam glasses

2011-09-27T10:41:00.002-05:00

If there's one thing I'velearned from heroic TV marathons spent on the couch, it's that in fashion, oneday you're in, and the next day you're out. Sure, certain classics stay withus: the little black dress, say, or the sleeveless T-shirt silk-screened withan image of wolves fighting dragons with American flags. But other trendschange quickly - a truth that applies whether you're dressing up yourself or adrink. And though they may not parade their libations down a runway for HeidiKlum's yea or nay, locals know that when it comes to cocktails, you still needto turn heads.

"Cocktails and fashionare aligned," says Chris Jamison, co-owner of LolitaCocina & Tequila Bar (271 Dartmouth Street, Boston, 617.369.5609). "Presentationis everything, from the color scheme and glassware to the overall appearance."

"Presentation is one ofthe first things I think about," agrees Vincent Stipo of Deuxave (371 Commonwealth Avenue, Boston, 617.517.5915). "Is thisgoing to be an up drink, on ice, an elaborate garnish that requires a ‘bed,' ora sinking/floating garnish?"

Many mixologists putgreat thought into composing a cocktail's look - and everyone has a differentmethod. Some prefer to improvise: "The art of making a drink is putting passioninto it," says Alejandro Alvarez, founder of KiBar, an eventconcierge biz with a rep for presentations that pop. "I use whatever I have infront of me to make it pretty."

Other approaches are moremethodical. "When I am experimenting [with presentation], I usually workbackwards," says Stipo, "I'll often start by thinking about what I want thefinal product to look and taste like. Will it be an ode to a classic, orsomething to create a wow factor table-side? Do I want to use fruit I know iscoming into season, or do I need to fill a flavor void on my cocktail list?Once I know where I want to end up, I then begin working on how to get there."That's how he arrives at drinks like his New-Groni, a pale-pink, morefeminine-looking variation on the standard Negroni. It's made with gin, freshgrapefruit, Aperol, and egg white and served in a coupe glass, with a fewabstract shapes drawn in bitters on a top layer of froth.

I expect to see morebartenders using bitters to add aesthetic appeal in the months ahead. Ofcourse, there are certain tried-and-true approaches to presentation. Garnishesare an obvious go-to, says Kim Frankson of 49Social (49 Temple Place, Boston,617.338.9600). "They're like the perfect accessory to a great outfit," sheexplains. "Garnishes put the finishing touch and ‘sparkle' in an otherwiseboring drink. They can add color, depth, texture, and dimension."

But garnishes shouldn't come across as perfunctory tack-ons,says Stipo."Was the drink notmade with enough citrus?" he asks, speaking to the old lime-wedge-on-the-glassapproach. Instead, he says, a bartender should utilize a more aestheticallypleasing design, like the more elegant-looking lime wheel, "which tells theguest this is a garnish - no need to squeeze."

And gimmickry forgimmickry's sake doesn't bode well for a cocktail's quality. (That wholeliquid-nitrogen trend was as ostentatious, and ill-advised, as MC Hammerpants.) You often don't need bells and whistles to beautify a solid sip: infact, the best classics, like a Manhattan,for example, aren't necessarily much to look at. "The ‘classic' look willremain always in style," says Frankson. "When done properly, a cocktail canhave it all: the sophistication of a ‘serious' cocktail complemented by theaesthetic appeal."

Indeed, the ideal is forfashion to work hand in hand with function. Consider the use of ice, forinstance. The right type and volume of ice is important to calibrating thewater content of a cocktail, but it's also increasingly playing a role in presentation.

"Recently the rage hasbeen cracked ice, perfect cubes, and the oversized rounds," Stipo says. "Ithink this trend has some legs because it is quite functional. When a barkeepfinds something that both enhances the drink and impresses your guest, it'susually something that will stick."

A trend that may possessless staying power? Stipo expects the statuesque glasses and colorful umbrellasthat have accompanied the resurgence of Tiki cocktails may fall out of fashionsoon. "Although I love everything Tiki, I think that a trend begins becausesomeone is doing it properly - and dies because so many others follow and do itpoorly." That's fashion in a nutshell. Or a coconut shell, rather.

Stuff

Privateer practice: Meet a new rum distiller with very old roots

2011-09-27T10:39:00.003-05:00

Photo: JOEL VEAK

In talking about rum,we're talking about Massachusetts history. In fact, we're talking about ourcountry's history. (Does that mean downing a Hemingway Daiquiri is a show ofpatriotism? Go America!) Back in colonial days, rum production was a hugelyimportant industry in Massachusetts, one that played a key role in itsprosperity and development. Our thirst for the sweet nectar of the sugarcanewas great. So we were not pleased when the British starting levying sugar taxesand screwing with the "triangle trade" system that ran between the Caribbean(where sugarcane was grown), the colonies (where the byproducts were turnedinto rum), and Africa (the source of slaves who were shipped to the Caribbeanto harvest the cane). In fact, that interference helped get the AmericanRevolution rolling. It's like they say in the history books: "Give me libertyor give me death. And don't get in the way of my rum business."

That's a history we all share.But for Andrew Cabot, owner of the recently launched Ipswich distillery Privateer International (privateerrum.com), talking about rum means talking about his ownfamily's history. Almost two years ago, he was trying his hand at hobbydistilling while tackling a food-studies program at Boston University. But thenhe came across something interesting during a genealogical search: it turnedout that his namesake, a colonial ancestor six generations removed, owned afleet of privateer ships around the time of the Revolution. They were fastships that harassed the British and smuggled molasses from the Caribbean toCabot's rum distillery in Beverly. (Badass.)

Following in his ancestor'sfootsteps seemed like a natural calling. "This is an amazing back story," Cabotthought, digging through his family's past. "Once you hit [40-something],you've done a few things, made a little money. You want to find something youreally care about."

Cabot has always loved rum, hesays, but he was more of an Armagnac and whiskey guy. "I like complex neatdrinks. My observation was that rum was not what it should be. It's a technicalchallenge to start with grass, not a grain. But I said, how can we make thissmooth and flavorful and balanced?" He wanted to avoid burying the flavors, asin a typical silver rum, or getting too cloying or viscous with the amberstyle.

He set about traveling throughthe Caribbean, meeting with distillers in Jamaica, Haiti, Martinique, andGuadeloupe. But wherever he went, he says, he kept finding biases about the wayrums are produced. "I thought, we will never get to better rum if we keep doingit the same old ways. I'm not saying I've achieved that, but we've gone on toproduce the clean, complex drink that I wanted."

His small-batch silver rum ishighly sippable and smooth, not too sweet, and free of that witch-hazel quality- perfect for drinking on its own. There are herbal notes, a sweet range in themiddle with some cocoa, and a light pepper finish. Privateer Silver Reserve Rumis expanding its footprint quickly, but right now you can find it at bars likeSilvertone, Forum, RumBa, and Aquitaine. An amber expression is also in theworks and expected this fall.

Privateer rum is probably a bigimprovement over the unpalatable stuff they were likely making back in colonialtimes. "We were very good at producing commodity rum here," Cabot says. "But itwas not very good. Rum was always buried in drinks. It was the originalcocktail; they knew they had to cover it up with a lot of fruits and flavors tomake it tolerable. Rum sort of found different ways to cover up its flaws for along time."

So has America, coincidentally.The two really have always gone hand in hand.

Stuff

The Yanks Lost? Sell! Sell! Sell!

2011-09-27T10:37:00.000-05:00

James Yang for The Wall Street Journal

A new online game combines fantasy sports and investment strategy, letting you build a portfolio of teams as you would stocks

Playing the stock market and being a sports fan are similar beasts—and not just because they're the biggest reasons you keep checking your phone for updates. The overlap is at the heart of a new online game called SportsGunner (sportsgunner.com), which is slated to launch this weekend. In a hybrid of fantasy sports and stock market strategizing, players use their sports acumen to predict the movement of teams in a virtual marketplace. As teams win and lose, their SportsGunner values rise and fall. Your job, just as it is in a real market, is to correctly predict which way they'll go.

I've been playing with a beta version of SportsGunner for a few weeks now. It's best on a computer, but the website works nicely on mobile browsers as well. (An app is in the works.) Although it's similar to the fantasy gaming experience in that it might make you spend your entire weekend watching games you couldn't possibly care about otherwise, there are a few key differences.

First off, you don't have to lock yourself into one sport. You can move back and forth across a variety of sports leagues, including Major League Baseball, the NBA, the NFL and NCAA football and basketball. Think of it as a sports betting room in Las Vegas, but with fewer shady characters.

And instead of accumulating a roster of players as you do in traditional fantasy sports, you make what the game calls "plays" based on how you think a team will perform. Other SportsGunner players are free to make the same prediction. As the website points out, "In fantasy, only one owner gets each player. SportsGunners own as many teams as they like (or dislike)."

That "dislike" part represents another key departure from typical fantasy sports. You're not just banking on the success of teams. You can actually get ahead by predicting failure. Winners are hard to pick. Losers, on the other hand, can be much easier to spot. It's like betting against the market, but with much less dire consequences for the economy. And your own wallet.

Here's how it works: Players start off with 10,000 credits to buy shares in teams. The SportsGunner board displays the standings/power rankings of every club that's currently playing, along with the price in shares it costs to invest in them. First, you pick a team that you like, or don't like, and decide whether you think they're on the way up or down.

Secondly, you decide how confident you are in that position, and purchase shares accordingly. In the standard free game, the available buy-in rates are: high-confidence play (30 shares), medium (20) and low (10). In the upgraded version (which is also free for the time being), there is no limit on the amount you can invest, as long as you haven't squandered your available credit line.

The basic idea is to cash out while the share price is high, thereby accumulating more points. In the upgraded game there are more complex options where you can double or triple the value of an existing play, add or reduce your position by any amount or even reverse it if you feel like the tide has really changed, automatically converting your shares to the opposite direction. The reverse is handy when, say, a team's slugger goes on the disabled list when you've invested heavily in their future success. Alternatively, if he unexpectedly comes off the DL, you might want to double down. Choose poorly and the well starts to run dry pretty quickly.

So how are the team rankings determined? Just like in the real market, well-performing stocks cost more per share. A share in the Tampa Bay Rays, the No. 2 MLB team in the game's rankings at the moment, costs 24 credits. Shares for the Washington Nationals, the No. 25 team, are priced at 1 credit.

That can mean it's tempting to bet against your favorite team from time to time. SportsGunner lets you spread out the risk and reward, both emotionally as a fan, and financially as a market-minded analyst. In the real world, I'd like to see the Yankees lose every day—in the game I can behave more logically, and consider their coming schedule before I invest. Perhaps they have a series against the woeful Orioles. In that case I'd make a "high" play for the Yankees going up in the standings. That play then goes into my portfolio with my other plays, like when I bought 30 shares for .25 points each in the Houston Astros thinking they'd go up in rank just before a recent winning streak. They did and I cashed them out at 5 points a share. Profit? 142.50 points. Ka-ching!

A heartier sort might have let the shares in the Astros ride, hoping that they'd rise even higher. An even better player might start looking at the injury reports, pitching lineups or trends against other teams to bolster hunches about upcoming performance. It's the same forward-thinking strategy you'd use when looking to invest in a company.

Yes, it's a lot of work for what is just a game, but as seasoned fantasy addicts know, it's never just a game—it's a business. Isn't that why you're called an "owner" of a fantasy team?

For a lot of players watching their numbers rise among the ranks will be the part that keeps them coming back. Those SportsGunner points are the measure of your profit over time and how you gain in-game badges, trophies and victories over other players.

It's a good thing this isn't real money, though. I burned through the majority of my credits after a week of banking on the Red Sox. (You can buy more credits; 5,000 of them cost $5.) As in real life, counting on your favorite team to go up in value every single day, just like investing too heavily in a friend's company out of loyalty, might not be the savviest of strategies.

Unlike real life, watching your pals crumble in defeat is encouraged in fantasy sports. Winning is why we play, after all. Your SportsGunner portfolio is basically a measure of your sports prowess, or to put it another way, a mathematical calculation of just how much trash talk you can dish out that week.

What will make or break SportsGunner is whether or not it can offer the same highs and lows (mostly lows, if we're being honest) that people are accustomed to from fantasy sports. But from what I've experienced, I'd bet high, with confidence.

Five Websites That Will Turn You Into a Fantasy-Sports Phenom

Watching SportsCenter isn't enough. Bookmark these sites and get a competitive edge against your friends.

Football Outsiders
The site that brought baseball's sabermetrics-style empirical number-crunching to football regularly combs the data for new and revolutionary statistics. footballoutsiders.com

Baseball Prospectus
This is the offshoot of the best annual sabermetric book of the same name, featuring a computer system that projects statistics using proprietary formulas. Remarkably reliable at not only analyzing past stats, but also predicting future outcomes. baseballprospectus.com

Cold Hard Football
Facts Just what the name says, this site, regularly lauded for having some of the best football writing in the business, shines the harsh glow of reality on statistics without clouding them with fandom or typical sport-pundit emotion. coldhardfootballfacts.com

Covers
Another good way to take the temperature of the fantasy world is by checking in on betting sites. On Covers you can get a sense of which way the money is going in the betting world at large, take a glance at matchup histories and injuries and adjust your SportsGunner action accordingly. covers.com

College Football Geek
College football may be as popular as ever, but it's just gaining a toehold in the world of fantasy. This site covers everything you need to know about college players both established, and on the way up. collegefootballgeek.com

WSJ

Bully Boy Distillers: The spirits of Massachusetts

2011-09-27T10:33:00.003-05:00

Craft breweries have been the big story in the drinking world for the past couple of years, but more and more small-batch distilleries are cropping up throughout New England. The recently launched Bully Boy Distillers is the first distillery in Boston in at least 20 years, says Dave Willis, who along with his brother Will turned a hobby of distilling at home (learned on their family’s farm in Sherborn) into a burgeoning company.

“It’s a fourth-generation working farm where we grew up making craft products, like ciders and jams,” says Willis. “We learned to distill on a small, two-gallon stove top still.”

After they made the jump to a much-larger still in their warehouse space in Roxbury, what followed was a lot of painstaking product development, Willis says.

“We would do blind taste-testing of a full spectrum of a certain spirit; say, if we were doing rum, we’d pull certain characteristics from rums we liked, and developed the profile of the spirit we wanted to craft, then go about reverse-engineering it.”

One of the three spirits they have available is an unaged, sippable rum that’s made with blackstrap molasses to taste lightly of butterscotch. About 25 stores and 40 bars and restaurants around the metro area now carry it — including Area Four, Grafton Street and Island Creek Oyster Bar. Think of it as a barrel-aged rum without the barrel-aging, Willis says.

The other two are a wheat vodka and an unaged whiskey. A barrel-aged, sour-mash wheat whiskey and a dark rum mellowed in used wine casks will come further down the line.

The unaged whiskey has been a surprising hit, Willis says.

“We thought it would be more of a niche product, but the mixologists in town have had a lot of fun with it. Unaged whiskey is a fairly new entrant to the spirits market, and there aren’t a lot of them.”
These whiskeys are quite malleable, able to riff off of either the character of a vodka or a whiskey.

That versatility is part of reason why small-batch spirits like this are gaining a foothold. The local movement angle doesn’t hurt wither, Willis says.

“People want to know where the ingredients are coming from and that someone has their fingers on every step of the process.”

Metro

Thursty: Brahmin

2011-09-27T10:32:00.003-05:00

After a series of violent crimes, 33 Res-taurant closed with a bad reputation, but it should’ve been better known for serving some top-notch cocktails.

The Brahmin American Cuisine & Cocktails, the new tenants in the space on the suddenly-crowded Stanhope Street, hope to pick up with they left off in the latter regard.

The owners — also behind Red Sky Restaurant & Lounge — say the idea is to pay homage to the old-monied Boston culture the name evokes. That shows up in touches like antique cabinets, tufted couches and old-timey knickknacks strewn throughout the dark brown, candle- and chandelier-lit interior.

Owner Russ deMariano says they’re moving away from the vibe of the space’s former inhabitants.
“We want the Brahmin to be a destination for lun

Cahktails?

While they’re enthused about handcrafted cocktails here, there are afew early-opening kinks to fix. The majority of their reci-pes takeflavored vodkas as a base and weren’t executed perfectly, diluted by icethat wasn’t cold enough. One drink I did like though was theCrowningshield Manhattan. Balanced between bitter and sweet, it featuresCrown Royal, Fernet Branca and St. Germain.

ch, the afterwork and dinner crowd as well as a place you can come to lounge and socialize at night.” That said, he adds, “During the weekend nights we plan to create more of an upbeat atmosphere, bumping up the music a little and creating a lively and social atmosphere.”

That’s how I found it on a recent Thursday, with a typical Back Bay minidress and power-suit crowd drinking along to loud dance music.

Hot Water Music | The Fire, The Steel, The Tread/Adds Up to Nothing

2011-09-27T10:30:00.001-05:00

It's been seven long years since Gainesville, Florida's Hot Water Music have released any new music. Together, that is. Frontman Chuck Ragan took a turn into folkier landscapes with his solo records, including a punk-troubadour turn in Feast or Famine in 2007, while the balance of the four-piece maintained a similar, gravelly, shouted-punk style with their offshoot band, the Draft. This two-track 7-inch and digital release is an arbiter of things to come from the newly reformed outfit. As one might expect, returning to the fold for a punk band with some miles on the tires brings with it a certain amount of veteran introspection. "Up to Nothing" chugs along with the band's memorable push and eminently shoutable chorus: "Somehow it all adds up to nothing," Chris Wollard sings, with a gritty defiance. But it's an edge tempered by time. "The Fire, The Steel, The Tread" seems like it may have initially been a Ragan solo song, with its dusty countrified edge and love-at-the-bottom-of-a-whiskey-bottle tone, but here it's charged with the full band's instrumentation and invigorating spirit.

Boston Phoenix

Identity Festival rocks out the dance party

2011-09-27T10:28:00.002-05:00

MASS APPEAL “Electronic dance music is such an important part of music culture in general,” says White Shadow. “It has been for the last 30 years.”

Genre predictions are dumb, but there is one thing absolutely certain in music: rock music is dead, and the era of electronic dominance is finally here. Look no further than last week's Hard Summer Music Festival at the Paradise or this week's Identity Festival, making a stop on a national tour at the Comcast Center with Steve Aoki, Avicii, Booka Shade, Rusko, DJ Shadow, the Crystal Method, Datsik, Data Romance, Holy Ghost!, White Shadow, Afrobeta, and others in tow.

Little bit overdue on this front, America. Especially considering, as White Shadow (a/k/a Paul Blair) points out, our land is the birthplace of techno and electronic dance music. "It is the first time something like this has really happened in the US," says Blair, who also co-wrote and/or co-produced a handful of tracks on Lady Gaga's Born This Way. "Electronic dance music is such an important part of music culture in general. It has been for the last 30 years. The fact that it can be controlled in a major venue and so many people want to see it is amazing."

Even recently, pulling off an Identity Festival wasn't easy. "The fact that you can regularly get thousands — even hundreds of thousands — of people together for them from all over the world shows how far things have come in the past few years," says Swedish trance/house producer Avicii. "The acts have grown with the festivals where people are putting on big live shows that make touring DJ festivals the same as any rock concert."

One reason a tour like this has become more viable, says Sebastian Szary of the glitchy German electro act Modeselektor, is that it's much more streamlined than guitar-rock shows in terms of production and expense. "Outdoor festivals normally have a program like: opener, unknown local band, known local band, domestic superstars, and international superheroes. Touring with a rock/pop-based lineup like this is too expensive and needs tons of different backline. The main difference for electronic acts is they can react immediately and need far less gear."

Added Amy Kirkpatrick of trippy Vancouver duo Data Romance, "The fact that all these amazing DJs and producers all said yes to one single tour is really something. Electronic bands were almost the black sheep back in the day, and now things are somewhat reversing. I think people would come out to this festival for different reasons than, say, a rock festival, but each feeds the need for something in fans."

Just don't express that difference in terms of laptop and synths versus guitars to Alex Frankel of New York City's outstanding disco-synth act Holy Ghost!, who notes that whereas keyboard-based bands have been big in the live-music world for decades, laptops are different. "Years ago you would be laughed off the stage for using backing tracks as heavily as people do today," he says. "But the thing is, they sound great. If an electronic band goes on and plays mostly pre-recorded audio, they're going to sound great. Boring as shit, but they'll sound good. Because there's no chance involved. And I think that's where electronic shows get very different than rock shows: there's no chance."

With electronic music's growing popularity, the summer fests might merge into one big party anyway. "I want to see the lines blur between what is considered 'electronic' and what's considered 'rock,' 'pop,' or 'metal,' " says Kirkpatrick, "so that festivals can just have amazing artists and the audience can get an eclectic mix, rather than trying to make this festival for one style, and the other for that style."
If rock lasts that long.

IDENTITY FESTIVAL | Comcast Center, 885 South Main St, Mansfield | August 20 @ noon | $62.85 | 877.686.5366 or idfestival.com

Phoenix

Electronic beats on ‘Blue Songs’ by Hercules & Love Affair

2011-09-27T10:26:00.000-05:00

The trend in electronic music has been to mix the hedonistic rhythms and neon beat of classic disco with a detached, indie aesthetic. Hercules & Love Affair mostly skip the postmodern irony here, sounding sincerely dorky enough to have arrived straight from the disco era. That’s both good and bad. “My House,’’ somehow already an international club hit, has a barely there beat and a boring soul-lite vocal line that devolves into annoying scatting. “Painted Eyes’’ fares better, with dramatic synth strings and a pleadingly romantic vocal. “Answers Come in Dreams’’ dirties up a club comedown reflection with biting funk. “Leonora’’ strikes a languid pose, conjuring a hazy summer block party circa 1982 New York. Meanwhile, Bloc Party’s Kele Orekeke stops by on “Step Up’’ to drag the effort further into the ’80s with a new wave disco effort. “I Can’t Wait,’’ with its glitchy cutups and ice-princess coo, brings the group into the current moment. (Out today)

Boston Globe

The Digital Bar Crawl

2011-08-16T08:41:00.001-05:00

Illustration by Harry Campbell for The Wall Street Journal

Can your smartphone tell a 'power' scene from a 'hipster' one? A thirsty writer puts several nightlife apps to the test

It used to be there were so many different bars to choose from that we had to turn to technology to help us narrow things down. Now there are so many different apps trying to help us find the best places to drink, we need an app to sort through the nightlife apps. Don't steal that idea.

A bar-finding app, much like a bar, is only as valuable as what it has on tap. Most of them operate under the same premise, using your GPS location to recommend the nearest bars, which you can then narrow down by search parameters such as cost, style of bar or level of sausage-fest-ness. So I went out on a test run of them in Boston, where I write about bars for a living. Man versus machine. Like when a chess master battles a supercomputer, only much more important to the human condition.

At the outset, I came across two bumps in the road. First off, not all of these apps are available in every city. SceneTap(free, available on iPhone and Android), which sets itself apart by using facial recognition cameras to identify the makeup of a bar's crowd, is currently only available for Chicago (there's a national roll-out in the works). And using the apps to find the nearest drink specials proved complicated too: Discounted alcohol is illegal in Massachusetts. Thanks, Puritans!

Instead, I could search for cheap booze prices in general. At the start of my digital bar crawl,Drink Owl (free, available on iPhone, Android and BlackBerry) told me about $1.55 drafts at the Beacon Hill Pub, which is exactly the type of squat, brick fortress where you'd expect to find a pint for pocket change. Searching for bars by drink price can be dangerous, though. Proceed with caution. It's basically typing "I want to wake up with regret" into your phone and letting technology sort out the details.

As I drank my Busch, I started to think about my next move, and turned toBarSpace (free, available for iPhone) for a little pre-screening voyeurism. They use video cameras in various bars so you can decide if it's worth stopping by. I checked in on Think Tank. The crowd was a looking a little anemic, so I ordered another $1.55 draft (why not, right?) and asked Bar Finder(free, available on Android) where to go next. It had good suggestions for pubs, but also suggested I go to the Law Offices of Jeffrey S. Glassman. He may well have had a beer in the fridge, but I wasn't about to show up uninvited.

Then I turned to the slightly more upscale Thrillist app (free, available on iPhone and Android) for advice. A man can only drink so many $1.55 beers. It pointed me towards Eastern Standard and recommended I have a Corpse Reviver #4, which was, oddly enough, just what I was craving. While Thrillist has an icon-filled map that pinpointed spots worth visiting, I found it more helpful to scroll through its list of best new bars, most of which passed muster.

For my next tipple I called up the Urban Daddy app (free, available on iPhone and Android). An opening screen popped up: "It's Friday. Around 9 p.m. In Back Bay." From here I could choose my parameters. I told it I'm with "myself" and I want "drinks" (as opposed to dinner or dancing) somewhere "swanky." Other options included "somewhere with history" and "in a power scene," which I think is one of Dante's circles of hell.

It came back quickly with results that included the dark, gothic tequileria Lolita Cocina located .1 miles away. Spot on.

Further down the list some of the picks weren't as accurate. Bukowski Tavern, a craft-beer bar, isn't exactly what I'd call "swanky," on account of the high tattoo coverage, but it did serve as the perfect search result when I told the app I wanted to be "around hipsters" (also, I believe, a circle of hell).

Occasional missteps aside, the Urban Daddy app was the most fun and intuitive to use. As I was about to head off to another of its picks a friend texted. He wanted a tequila bar. "Who are you with, and what are you looking for?" I asked, already starting to think like a machine. Unfortunately, not everyone can have a professional drinker on speed dial. For everyone else, there's an app for that.

Wall Street Journal

Dom: Family of Love

2011-08-16T08:37:00.004-05:00

DOM

Family of Love

Seems like only yesterday that we were calling Worcester’s Dom the band most likely to succeed in a young Massachusetts rock class. So far so good, as the deliriously delinquent surf-psych pop-rock of their debut EP, “Sun Bronzed Greek Gods,’’ has made its way around the world. On this follow-up EP, the band, led by the mercurial, skewed-pop savant Dom, keeps the party going with five songs that crest the wave between rough-around-the-edges garage rock and twee keyboard pop. The awkwardly romantic “Telephone’’ revolves around a chiming dial tone solo. The fuzzy prismatic rainbow of “Happy Birthday Party’’ is the stylistic bridge here, with its refrain of “time to get gnarly/ happy birthday party’’ serving as the motto for both the record and the band. That song, and the careening, reverb sugar of “Damn,’’ have the deceptive staying power of a self-applied tattoo. They’re perhaps hastily put together but still fraught with a moment’s sincerity that will nonetheless stick with you long after the party is over. (Out now)

Boston Globe

Liquid Pop art: House-made sodas are raising the bar

2011-08-16T08:36:00.001-05:00

Photo: JOEL VEAK

There's really no delicate way of putting this, so I'll just come out and say it: if your default drink is an "and" drink, meaning a rum and Diet, say, or a Jack and ginger, then you have shitty taste. I'm sorry - I don't make the rules, but that's how it is. (Okay, I do make the rules, and I guess I'm not really that sorry.)

Not only is it boring, but the sugared-up soda you find on the gun at most bars completely obliterates any nuance the spirit in question may have had in the first place. But that doesn't mean you have to abandon sodas altogether when it comes to cocktailing. There are plenty of local spots, like Erbaluce (69 Church Street, Boston, 617.426.6969), for example, that are making their own house-made sodas and incorporating them creatively into their bar programs. "We don't carry any commercial soda products. Our soda gun has two speeds: sparkling and still," says bar maestro Nick Korn. Instead, Erbaluce offers Italian-style sodas using fresh ingredients. Sounds good, but why should the average imbiber care?

There's a wholesome, green, renewable element to that approach, Korn explains. "I think it's for the same reasons that people like our food. Given the philosophy of our kitchen - fresh, local, seasonal, made-to-order - having Coke and Mountain Dew syrup delivered in bags wouldn't really make sense. Instead, we try to make use of the same relationships and produce, not to mention philosophy, that end up in the kitchen, on the bar."

To that end, they feature an ever-changing lineup of sodas that varies with the day's available ingredients. Take the Caffè Seltz ($5), inspired by the caramel and citrus flavors of cola and made from the previous night's leftover coffee, reduced down with sugar, star anise, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Going from that cola-style drink to a cocktail was easy, Korn says. "By combining the coffee syrup with one of our favorite amari, ditching the citrus, and adding some orange bitters, we have a version of what's probably my favorite ‘and' drink, the Fernet and Coke."

At Erbaluce, you'll also come across options like a celery soda made with syrup from the seeds, salt juice from the stalks, and bitters made from celery and lovage leaves. More straightforward is a ginger beer made with farmers' market ginger, which they juice and then combine with Demerara sugar and Angostura bitters. They use that in a Dark and Stormy-style cocktail called La Burrasca ($10), made with a blackstrap cordial (an overproof rum cut in-house with grade-A molasses). As the varieties of ginger available at the market change throughout the year, the flavor profile shifts as well. Bad news for people who want uniformity in their sugar water, I guess.

That flexibility in flavor is what makes house-made soda a good alternative, says Tom Keefe of Minibar (51 Huntington Avenue, Boston, 617.424.8500). "First, sodas out of the gun are limited. With a carbonation system, you can essentially carbonate the liquid from any fruit or vegetable. Blending these juices is where you can be creative and make sodas not found in a gun or on a shelf. Secondly, with a homemade system, you are able to control the sugar content. Most store-bought sodas are loaded with high-fructose corn syrup. Working with a fresh product, you eliminate all those nasty ingredients found on the back of most commercial products." Keefe is currently working with a cucumber-and-lime soda in the Hendrick's Press ($11), which also features Hendrick's gin, Domaine de Canton ginger liqueur, and mulberry syrup.

Sounds refreshing, right? So do the various limeades ($3) at Area Four (500 Technology Square, Cambridge, 617.758.4444), which are made with lime juice and muddled tarragon, basil, mint, or whatever else strikes the staff's fancy. Bar manager Chris Graeff echoes Keefe's emphasis on the appeal of flavor control. "Coke is a very fixed product with very fixed flavors. This also allows us to work with more local ingredients, as much as we can - herbs in season locally and things like that." His sodas aren't specifically designed as mixers for cocktails, but the herby citrus qualities of the limeades lend themselves to gin, dry vermouth, and maybe some tannin from a green tea.

Just don't get too attached to what's in your glass: it may not be the same tomorrow. "We'll change it," Graeff says. "Every day, people can come in and have a different house-made soda. It's fun to offer different products." Almost as fun as finding sodas that are truly buzz-worthy.

Stuff

After 10-year hiatus, Cibo Matto meets expectations with exuberance

2011-08-16T08:32:00.004-05:00

CIBO MATTO At: Brighton Music Hall, Wednesday

Ten years is a long time to wait, so it’s no surprise that the sold-out crowd for the first local Cibo Matto show in a decade was anxious to get the party started. At Brighton Music Hall Wednesday night, fans were yelling out the names of songs from the New York Japanese-American duo’s era-defining 1990s albums before they even took the stage.

They didn’t leave disappointed. Yuka Honda, whose reserved demeanor contrasted with the noisy squalls of horn blasts and thick bass and beats she manipulated from behind her keyboards, and Miho Hatori, the brash, stylish exemplar of both hip-hop swagger and romantic crooning, ran through an hour and change of their greatest hits.

The first portion of the set found the two onstage alone for tracks such as the dreamy “Beef Jerky,’’ with its alternating jazz trip-outs and playfully aggressive rapping. “Le Pain Perdu’’ followed, locating them somewhere between a smoky Jazz Age nightclub and a sci-fi space bar.

But it wasn’t until the gorgeously romantic “Spoon,’’ with its funky drum-roll loops and spy-film guitar riffs, and a drummer and bass player joining mid-song, that their energy matched expectations. New material proved they are as adept at genre-splicing as ever, stirring hip-hop, electro, samba, and jazz into short servings of exuberant joy.

Soon afterward came the swooning slow dance of “Moon Child,’’ with bassist Jesse Murphy providing a nice upper-register harmony. Superstar drummer Yuko Araki made it hard to stand still, and it’s doubtful there was anyone in the crowd who wasn’t pogoing along with the band, at least in spirit, for the joyous “Birthday Cake.’’

Altered arrangements for fan favorites like “Sci-Fi Wasabi,’’ played here as a dub track, and “Know Your Chicken,’’ with a less herky jerky approach and a new melody line, showed that the band is still willing to take chances, and that the lengthy hiatus was well worth the wait.

Boston Globe

The tasty return of Cibo Matto | Back on the menu

2011-08-16T08:30:00.002-05:00

There's been a lot of talk recently about how the '90s are back, much of it by me. One thing I've forgotten to mention in my hasty excitement for a return to the days when my man crush on Jared Leto wasn't creepy was that the '90s were pretty much a complete bum-out. Everyone was stomping around all day in gross boots and giant socks, and we all had our hair tied up in tight scrunchies that constricted blood flow to the brain. No wonder the music was so grim.

Somewhere around the middle of the decade, bands in New York City remembered that music was supposed to be fun. Chief among them were Cibo Matto, the Japanese-American duo who popularized the polyglot fusion concept that was also, coincidentally, sweeping the restaurant scene. In fact, they actually were singing about food most of the time, on songs like "Birthday Cake" and "Know Your Chicken." (Cibo Matto means "crazy food" in Italian, I'm obliged to point out). They were brash, ballsy, fun, cooler than hell, and surprisingly funny.

The band's 1994 debut Viva! La Woman was hungry for experimentation as well, sampling from the genre buffet, incorporating elements of hip-hop, punk, lounge, and dance music. The same omnivorousness applied to their friendships and collaborations: Yuka Honda, the multi-instrumentalist, and Miho Hatori, the spitfire vocalist, partnered variously with members of the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, R.E.M., the Beastie Boys, Sean Lennon (a one-time member of the band and romantically linked to Honda), Luscious Jackson, Medeski Martin and Wood, Tricky, Gorillaz, Stephin Merritt, and pretty much anyone else who registered on the decade's hip radar. Until they called it quits in 2001. That's practically the entire pop-musical decade encapsulated by one band.

Earlier this year Hatori and Honda reunited for the first time since then to perform a handful of benefit shows in the wake of the Japanese earthquake disaster. They had so much fun doing it that they decided to start recording new songs and go back on the road.

"It's such a very difficult time for Japanese people right now to have this big shock," Hatori explains on the phone from New York. "We feel like it's kind of like the earthquake broke a lot of things — our country, emotions as well. Let us be together."

Coming back together after such a long break was easy, says Hatori. "We were doing it for a long time before, it was in our blood and body. You remember how to sing immediately, it's in my head. Of course it's definitely a new challenge for us, because this time it's different. I feel like it has a very positive energy. Yuka and I have a chemistry that is still there. It's like, in a way, I don't know, if you for example are having a kid" — she laughs — "you don't know what's going to happen, what kind of personality your kids will have. It's been like that. Sometimes it feels same feeling. Cibo Matto is like our kid, in like a metaphysical way."

That kid has learned a few new tricks along the way, ones they're eager to show in the new material they've been writing for a planned album. "I think it is definitely a continuation of Cibo Matto, a kind of mixture, a melting pot of music. Plus a lot of beats, too. The beats elements is very strong."

Those beats were always part of what made the band fun, and also helped to bridge some of the divide between the indie and hip-hop worlds. "I love Tribe Called Quest and De la Soul," says Hatori. "That's one of the reasons I wanted to come to New York. Or Dee-lite. I was like, 'New York is like that, they're having so much fun.' "

Boston Phoenix

Thursty: Pleased as a Pig

2011-08-16T08:26:00.006-05:00

COURTNEY SACCO/METRO

If you’re eating at a restaurant called the Salty Pig, you’d better figure you’re going to work up a thirst pretty quickly. True to its billing, the menu at this chalkboard-walled and industrial aesthetic space (more funky Somerville than Back Bay in appearance) is broken up into “salty pig parts,” “stinky cheeses” and other Italian-style items like the outstanding pork and garlic meatballs. Fortunately, unlike many other Italian restaurants, beer and cocktails aren’t just an afterthought. The beer offerings run the gamut from thematically appropriate —with cans of Butternut’s Porkslap Pale Ale and Cisco Sankaty Light — to on-trend session ales, West Coast IPAs and local brews.

Working with a limited alcohol license seems like it would hamstring the cocktail design at any bar, but I found the selection of Italian bitters-style drinks here so interesting that I didn’t even realize it was a cordials-only bar until after.

“It forces us to be creative when approaching the cocktail program,” says general manager Jillian Rocco, recently of Eastern Standard. “From the standard with an Amaro Old Fashioned, made with Meletti (replacing Fernet as the new industry drink of choice, by the way) and three types of bitters, to the light, citrusy and refreshing Apiary, made with lemon, honey and Amaro Montenegro — a fruity, not-too-bitter digestif.

“I am a huge fan of amaros,” Rocco adds. “They range greatly in style, flavor, texture and structure. It has been fun to work with them and explore how they each perform in different preparations.”

What she’s having

My favorite cocktail happened to be Rocco’s as well. The Bitter & Alone is made with the spiced honey liqueur Becherovka and fruit juices, and takes a touch of anise from Peychaud’s Bitters. It was eminently drinkable, and light enough that it didn’t get in the way of any of the rich foods.

“It is the type of cocktail that can turn a novice cocktail drinker into a fan of more serious spirits,” Rocco says.

The Salty Pig
130 Dartmouth St., Boston
617-536-6200
www.thesaltypig.com

Metro

An oasis of cocktails

2011-08-16T08:24:00.001-05:00

'American Seasons’ Grapefruit Basil.

You know how when cartoon characters are lost in the desert and little oases of water and palm trees start popping up in thought bubbles over their heads? It’s about 100 degrees while I’m writing this and that’s basically me right now, except I’m imagining these drinks instead while crawling across the vast expanse of the workday waiting for cocktail o’clock. I asked a few bars to torture me with visions of refreshment.

“Nothing says summer like fresh, ripe watermelon,” says Michael Florence, bartender at Pigalle, of his Watermelon Sugar cocktail made with muddled, souf vide watermelon and fresh mint, Tozai Ginjo sake, Dolin Blanc vermouth, Velvet Falernum, Death’s Door vodka and Peychaud’s bitters. “Like the crocus to spring, watermelon enlivens the spirit and brings back memories of summer swims or lazy afternoons with friends. It’s an indulgence without guilt.”

Sabrina Kershaw at Noir also has fresh fruit in mind for their simpler, but no less thirst-quenching Quick- sand, made with Milagro Silver tequila, Lillet Blonde and strawberry puree.

If you’re lucky enough to be on Nantucket, you’re already ahead of the game when it comes to chilling out, but take it one step further by ordering the Grapefruit Basil cocktail at American Seasons. “Too many summer drinks can be overly sugary, says co-owner Orla Murphy-LaScola. With this drink she aimed for “light and refreshing without being too sweet.” Imagine the tart lemonade you loved as a kid, “but mixed into a dry, sharp cocktail. Fresh basil picked right before dinner service adds the final summery zip.”

Pigalle
75 Charles St. S., Boston, 617-423-4944
www.pigalleboston.com

Noir
One Bennett St.,
Cambridge, 617-661-8010
www.noir-bar.com

American Seasons
80 Centre St., Nantucket
508-228-7111
www.americanseasons.com

Metro

Forum: A promising thing happened at this restaurant

2011-08-16T08:21:00.003-05:00

NICOLAUS CZARNECKI/METRO

If the cream leather and bar chairs remind you of Noche, it’s no coincidence, since Forum is from the ownership group. Thankfully, they haven’t enlisted the people who designed Noche’s cocktail list. Beverage and wine director Alexei Beratis, most recently crafting quality cocktails at the hit-or-miss bar scene at the nearby Towne, is on the job here.

Considering Vox Populi was the name of the restaurant that once occupied this space on Boylston Street, it’s logical to consider Forum, which just opened last night, as another nod to the bustling plaza and political center of ancient Rome. No politics at the bar these days of course, and no gladiatorial contests, although this Forum is meant to attract a broad citizenry. There’s a large 45-seat bar downstairs, a small cafe area leading to the street-side patio and additional lounge seating. Upstairs is a more elegant experience, with a 10-seat bar better suited for intimate conversation.

If the cream leather and bar chairs remind you of Noche, it’s no coincidence, since Forum is from the ownership group. Thankfully, they haven’t enlisted the people who designed Noche’s cocktail list. Beverage and wine director Alexei Beratis, most recently crafting quality cocktails at the hit-or-miss bar scene at the nearby Towne, is on the job here.

At either bar, you’ll find the fruits of Beratis’ cocktail excursions, like the Charlemagne, made with Plymouth gin, agave nectar, fresh lime and egg whites.

“Here, it’s about serious cocktails,” says Beratis. “They’re all crafted, and have to be jiggered — but we’re opening in summer in New England, it’s supposed to be fun.”

Select cocktails are wrapped in a cardboard sleeve, like you’d see on a cup of coffee.

Hopefully Beratis’ attention to cocktail detail won’t be rounded off by heeding the voice of the crowd.

He says Forum is well situated to provide a sophisticated atmosphere to this busy center of the city: “We’re not trying to be an upscale, exclusive kind of place. Just the decor and the food lends itself to a little more of an adult feel.”

If you go

Forum
755 Boylston St., Boston
857-991-1831
www.forumboston.com

Metro

Legally drunk: A look at the curious laws that govern how we guzzle

2011-08-16T08:19:00.001-05:00

^{Photo: JANICE CHECCHIO}

It's funny: nationally, Massachusetts has a reputation of being thebluest of "blue states," thanks to our progressive politics. But not a singlelocal has grown up here without encountering "blue laws," antiquatedregulations (often related to alcohol) that are anything but liberal - morelike straight out of our buttoned-up, buckle-shoed Puritan past. The origin ofthe colorful term is subject to speculation: it's a reference to either an olddefinition of "blue" (which meant "rigidly moral" during Colonial times), thecolor of the paper that legal documents were once printed on, or the color ofeveryone's balls at the time, since these folks were definitely as repressed inthe bedroom as they were at the bar.

Such laws are hardly ancient history, as anyone who has tried tobuy booze before noon on Sunday (you know, the day when God pays attention),attempted to restock during a Memorial Day barbecue, or run out of wine duringThanksgiving dinner can attest. But there are even less obvious and moreegregious prohibitions on the books that are a pain in our collectivealcohol-loving ass. So I asked a few sin purveyors for their thoughts onMassachusetts's most annoying, curious, or downright weird laws regarding thesale of alcohol - laws that can impact exactly what, how, and when we drink inunexpected ways.

TJ Douglas of local wine store The Urban Grape (7 BoylstonStreet, Chestnut Hill, 617.232.4831) says most of the weird laws he'sencountered came up during his years working in restaurants and bars around thecity. But there are a few curious laws he has to deal with as the owner of aretail store, aka an off-premises license holder. In a retail store, allalcohol must have a price tag on it if it's within a customer's reach, Douglas says. That's notthe case if it's behind the counter though. And once it's been purchased,alcohol must be carried out in a package or box. "You can carry out a six-pack,but a bottle of pinot grigio has to be bagged. I don't know if it's aconcealed-weapon kind of strategy," he jokes. "You can have your gun, but youcan't hide it?"

In bars and restaurants, known as on-premises sites in legalese,things get a lot weirder - and the laws can be a bit of a buzzkill, bothliterally and figuratively. No fun, reads one law. Well, basically. Here's thereal language: "No licensee or employee or agent of a licensee shall encourageor permit, on the licensed premises, any game or contest which involves drinkingor the awarding of drinks as prizes."

^{Photo: JANICE CHECCHIO}

Douglas offers a translation: "Soyou can't have shot contests or throw a bull's-eye and get free drinks. Youcan't sponsor it, and customers can't do it." Of course, I do seem to recallgoing to trivia nights where the prize was a free pitcher of beer for thetable. That's one of the interesting aspects of these laws: many of them are sosilly that they aren't enforced. And many places may not even realize theyexist, so they go unobserved.

One law that's familiar to all licensees is the prohibitionagainst discounting liquor, aka the no-happy-hour rule or the "Everyone'sfriends from New York City constantly bitchabout this one" rule. It's illegal to "sell, offer to sell, or deliver to anyperson or group of persons any drinks at a price less than the price regularlycharged for such drinks during the same calendar week, except at privatefunctions not open to the public." Massachusettsbars deal with this limitation by discounting food during traditionalhappy-hour hours, but let's be honest: 50 percent off jalapeno poppers is a lotless enticing than $2 drink specials. Maybe that's why we're all so much fatterup here than the people in NYC? Thanks a lot, Puritans.

Joe O'Connor, bar manager for Red Lantern (39 Stanhope Street, Boston,617.262.3900) as well as Shrine at Foxwoods, says they have their own set ofweird laws to deal with in Connecticut, butdrink-special prohibitions aren't among them. "As far as drink specials go, [inConnecticut] it's a free-for-all. We do $5cocktails on industry night at Shrine Tuesdays, and it goes over well. We get600 or 700 people through the door." Wow, you think? "I'd like to be able to dosomething like that on industry night here, or something where we feature housedrinks for $5 one night," he says.

O'Connor adds, "It's tough because you really want to be able topromote drink specials, be affordable and attractive, especially on slownights, to attract guests to get there. An easy way to do that would be to runspecials on Mondays from five to nine. But being locked in to having to keepthe same prices, it's not really doable."

^{Photo: JANICE CHECCHIO}

Coming from a lawless OldWest-esque town like New York City to our little house on the prairie waslikewise a big shock for Jon Parsons, beverage director at Sam's (60Northern Avenue, Boston, 617.295.0191). "Opening up a restaurant, beingcurious, and wanting to do everything by the books, I looked up these laws andwas blown away by how much more strict it is," he says. "I worked at place thatsold $1 32-ounce pitchers in slow times in the afternoon. That wouldn't flyhere." Speaking of pitchers, state law also says that you can only serve apitcher of a malt beverage or mixed drink to two or more people, but thedefinition of a pitcher isn't stated. I hereby dub a pitcher to be 1000 ounces.

Strike that, actually - the cost would probably be prohibitive.As Parsons points out, you can't increase the amount of alcohol in a drinkwithout proportionally increasing the price. That also means that if a customerwants more liquor in a drink (say, she thinks it tastes weak or the martinilooks short), you must charge her extra. What's more, a customer can't beserved more than two drinks at a time - so you may get to grab a drink for youand your buddy, but the rest of your crew will have to belly up to the barthemselves.

Elsewhere on the books are restrictions on giving away unlimitedamounts of alcohol. In other words, open bars don't exist. Licensees aren'tallowed to "sell, offer to sell, or deliver to any person an unlimited numberof drinks during any set period of time for a fixed price . . ." the law reads.Then what about all those fancy opening parties that you and your friendsattend to get wasted on free-flowing champagne, huh? Explain that, lawman.

There's a caveat in the rule, you see, which says ". . . exceptat private functions not open to the public." And now you know why you have toRSVP and get your name checked off by a bored marketing intern every time yougo to one of those things.

Technically, bottle service doesn't exist here either, explainsGeorge Aboujaoude, owner of Bijou (51 Stuart Street, Boston,617.357.4565) and Cafeteria (279a Newbury Street, Boston,617.536.2233). Our high rollers have to content themselves with table service."Basically, you have to have your own bartender at your table, a serverstanding there pouring the alcohol. You're not allowed to pour your own. Andyou're not really buying the bottle; you're only charged for the drinks youconsume." Aboujaoude says it's all about preventing over-serving - a concernthat's evidently a lot less pressing in New York,Miami, and Las Vegas.

People who come from those cities are often flabbergasted by thelack of bottle service, Aboujaoude explains. "They don't know why they can'tget the bottle. They want to be able to pour their own bottle."

Maybe someday, bros and lady bros. "I think they're slowlyloosening up the old puritan laws that are already outdated here in Boston, even though we're a conservative state. Every 200years, they might let something go," Aboujaoude says.

^{Photo: JANICE CHECCHIO}

In fact, a few years back, the state did just that, relaxing therule against taking a partially consumed bottle of wine home from a restaurant.Now you can doggie bag your Bordeaux, but only if you've officially eaten ameal, which Massachusetts law precisely defines as "a diversified selection offood which ordinarily is classified as an ‘entrée' or ‘main course' whichordinarily cannot be consumed without the use of tableware and which cannot beconveniently consumed while standing or walking." (Talk about a mouthful.) Andto prove your meal passed muster, the restaurant has to affix your receipt tothe sealed bag containing your single resealed bottle. Whew.

That's not the only red tape related to bringing booze outside arestaurant's four walls. One Boston ordinancereads, "Outdoor cafés must serve dinners. No one shall be seated in an outdoorcafé for the sole purpose of drinking alcohol." Catch that, patio lovers? "Sothis says if you have a drink, you have to have a meal and be sitting at atable," Douglas explains. "I ran a restaurantwith a huge patio on Newbury Street for threeyears. How everyone got by was putting bread and olive oil on table, but youalso had to have tableware and a place setting; then everyone can drink."

Particular neighborhood associations may push for even stricterguidelines: in some snootier 'hoods, you can't even go inside a restaurant andsit at a table just to have a drink. "On Beacon Hill, you have to eat in orderto drink," Douglas says. "I think it's theresidents that monitor it. They've been known to call people out on it if theywalk in and see people just drinking." Total narcs. Of course, otherestablishments take a more lax approach - hence why you'll see some dive barsgetting around food-service requirements by keeping a bag of Cheez-Its withinarm's reach in an ancient vending machine.

Things could be a lot worse than they are in Boston,I suppose. The state still has more than a few completely dry towns where youcan't purchase alcohol of any kind, be it in a store or a bar. And other citieshave much more complicated restrictions on where, when, and from whom alcoholcan be sold. Chef-owner Tony Bettencourt of 62 Restaurant & Wine Bar(62 Wharf Street, Salem, 978.744.0062) says he's been struggling since his spotopened to deal with a seasonal license that prohibits his staff from sellingliquor during the winter off-season.

While they have a year-round beer, wine, and cordials license,come January 15, they have to put away the hard stuff until April 1. They'vepetitioned the city to lobby the state on their behalf for a full-year license,but the red tape involved in such decisions makes it seem like cities areauthorizing the production of nuclear missiles made of heroin in theirelementary schools.

"It does seem kind of weird and arbitrary," Bettencourt says."Whenever alcohol is involved, I always point to the Puritan ancestors."(That's easy to do in Salem, where one of theirhouses might still stand next door.)

"Look how long it took for alcohol to be sold on Sundays in Massachusetts. I mean, we're all adults here," Bettencourtcontinues. "With our seasonal liquor license, it's 10 weeks, the deepest,darkest months of the winter. Are we more susceptible to sins in the winter? Idon't get it. Those things seem at least incredibly old-fashioned, and it doesaffect us in those 10 weeks; we do lose a significant amount of money. I knowthis happens on the Cape too, but on the Capethe seasonal business is so much better, so a restaurant with a seasonallicense will close. There isn't as much of a call for a business to stay openyear round. Salem is in the middle - not Boston, but not quite as desolate in winter as the Cape may be."

Boston can be pretty desolate fora drinker too. Especially if you're trying to order a pitcher solo at 9 a.m. ona holiday Sunday for a discount. Then it's a really lonely place.

Stuff

Return to blender

2011-08-16T08:15:00.003-05:00

Whether we're talking music, fashion, or cocktails, accurately predicting trend cycles is really quite simple. Here's the formula: 1) remember an old trend you haven't seen in a few years, and 2) wait until it seems ironic enough to be hip again. The end. Consider, for example, the saxophone, which has been popping back up everywhere in music of late. Same thing with the blender, which is pretty much the saxophone of the bar world: oft-maligned, generally misunderstood, and apt to appear whenever someone's dad is grooving in the general proximity of a boat.

I was thinking about this recently while eye-balling a blender at a mediocre bar on a miserably hot evening. In the wake of the craft-cocktail movement, I had pretty much forgotten that blenders exist. "I bet these things are about due for a comeback," I thought, ordering up a totally boring, watered-down, vaguely fruit-flavored slushy.

Meanwhile, some serious bartenders had already taken their blenders out of storage. Highland Kitchen (150 Highland Avenue, Somerville, 617.625.1131) was ahead of the curve. They've been running their popular Fried and Frozen Mondays for a few years now. Don't expect to find your mother's frozen piña coladas there. The trendsetting and hugely influential New York City Tiki bar PKNY (formerly known as Painkiller) has also been evangelizing to eager blender converts.

Take Corey Bunnewith of Citizen Public House & Oyster Bar (1310 Boylston Street, Boston, 617.450.9000). "I almost had this misconception of the blender being evil, not something a real bartender would touch," he says. "We had one at Russell House kicked to a back closet. Then all of a sudden - I'm assuming it was the debut of Painkiller in NYC - the blender was cool. Now the blender, I feel, is kind of a staple of being a badass bartender."

Blenders may have lost their spot on bartender superheroes' utility belts because so many people just weren't using them correctly. The biggest offense? Crushing too much ice, or using ice that isn't cold enough, dilutes a cocktail to a watery mess. Careful bartenders can work around that. Bunnewith recommends mixing the ingredients first without ice for a dry blend and then pouring that concoction over crushed ice. You can also press or strain the ice to remove excess water before adding the mixed ingredients. That's a technique Bunnewith has been using in a recent recipe made with two ounces of Plymouth gin, .25 ounces of Dolin Blanc vermouth, .5 ounces of mango puree, .5 ounces of honey, and .5 ounces of lime juice.

Chad Arnholt of Woodward (1 Court Street, Boston, 617.979.8200) likewise points to PKNY as an influence, particularly to owner Giuseppe Gonzalez's extensive experimentation in search of the perfect dilution level for a properly blended cocktail. But while Arnholt has come around to the blender's choppy charms, he admits that there are still plenty of skeptics. In fact, even though Arnholt and Bunnewith are fans, the stigma is strong enough that the blender still isn't a regular part of their bars' arsenals, though it is increasingly popping up at special events and getting pulled out when the mood strikes.

"I use one, and I have to defend myself," Arnholt says. "I think that it's like anything else: if you use it right and do it with the right ingredients, there's no reason it can't be a tasty drink. I think for better or for worse [the heyday of blenders] coincided with a part of history, and were enabling a part of history, where you could use crappy synthetic ingredients, artificial sweeteners, and bottled sour mix. And as long as you used a blender, you could cover it. That led to the Carnival Cruise-style, low-proof, watery blended drinks that tasted mildly like fruit and didn't offer much of a real flavor."

The fix for that, Arnholt learned, is using higher-proof, higher-quality spirits that assert themselves. He's been working with a recipe that he collaborated on with Joy Richard at Citizen; it features strong spirits, like Green Chartreuse, blended with strawberries, lime, and coconut milk. Chartreuse is already sweet and strong, so you don't need to add much else. Assertive flavored spirits like Pernod or Becherovka also work well, he says.

"Using a blender doesn't mean it will be bad," Arnholt concludes. "It's something you can use as a tool, and if it's used in the right way, you can come out with something tasty while still following all those unwritten rules that all the bartenders who take themselves seriously care about." Maybe the blender really has just gotten a bad shake.

Stuff

Rave On Buddy Holly

2011-08-16T08:13:00.002-05:00

Various Artists

Rave On Buddy Holly

Tribute compilations come with an inherent high degree of difficulty. There’s a tricky balance to land between paying homage and reinvention. Too often these things end up sounding like a lazily plotted Pandora station with a tenuous through-line. In the case of Buddy Holly, the proto-rocker without whom none of the acts on “Rave On’’ would exist, it’s further compounded. It’s a testament to the consistency and strength of his voice that Holly manages to assert himself throughout in a rock ’n’ roll seance that utilizes the musical medium talents of disciples like Paul McCartney (who Paul-McCartneys his way through “It’s So Easy’’), other veterans like Lou Reed (whose “Peggy Sue’’ is a typical bum out), and Patti Smith (who gets spooky on “Words of Love’’). Perhaps it’s a generational bias speaking, but indie rockers like Modest Mouse on “That’ll Be the Day’’ and My Morning Jacket on “True Love Ways’’ come closer to capturing the lovelorn essence of Holly’s originals. Not all of them, though. The Black Keys are uncharacteristically boring in the barely there “Dearest,’’ while Julian Casablancas tosses off a muddy “Rave On.’’ No surprise that Cee Lo Green and Florence and the Machine pick up the pace and sing the lights out, or that Kid Rock seems like he showed up for an Aerosmith tribute. Forget about considering the album as a whole and figure out which of the 19 translators here appeal to you. The originals will always be there waiting. (Out now)

Boston Globe

How to be a bad customer

2011-08-16T08:09:00.004-05:00

via Tips Comics

With all the attention paid to chefs and bartenders in the media lately, and the explosion of quality restaurants using lovingly prepared, high-end ingredients, it comes as no surprise that the level of culinary knowledge among the average diner is at an all-time high. And yet for some reason, that sophistication doesn't apply to dining manners, particularly when it comes to our interactions with the help. (If you've ever called them "the help," then you're way ahead of the game and probably don't even need to read this list).

The Yelp-ification of America has turned us all into entitled, whiny babies, and the level of self-awareness among customers is worse than ever. As a restaurant and bar writer, and someone who's spent over a decade in the industry trenches off and on, I've got experience from both sides of the battle lines. Here's some expert advice in case you want to jump on this hot new trend of being an insufferable prick at a restaurant.

Big-time the host
She is clearly trying to screw with you, dude. It has nothing to do with the fact that another table is taking their sweet time worrying over the last two drips in a wine glass they won't let their server clear off the table. Perhaps you're someone important? Let her know. That should grease the wheels and get you seated in no time. If all else fails, just stroll right in and seat yourself wherever you want like you own the joint. Restaurants love that and definitely won't ignore you until you go through the proper red tape to get your official seat license.

Live-blog your meal
You've heard the expression "Everyone's a critic," right? That isn't just an empty slogan; it's a set of instructions on how to live a fulfilled existence. That means if you didn't have a good experience at a restaurant, it's your sworn duty as an officer of the internet to get the word out. No slightly-less-than-stupendous dining experience should ever go unpunished. It's the same idea behind holding your camera phone in the air the entire time you're at a concert. If you don't broadcast it to your social network, did it ever really happen?

Keep it impersonal
Over the course of a meal, there are dozens of interactions with the server, some quick and some lengthy. The best way to be an awful customer is by making these as impersonal as possible, thereby ensuring that the low born know that they're working at your beck and call. If you make eye contact, they might get the mistaken impression that you recognize their humanity, so be sure to never glance up from the menu or your phone when they approach. Continuing your conversation for an extra minute or two while a busy server stands there trying to say hello works as well. If you absolutely must express an idea, sign language is another good way to set up a barrier of indifference. Wave across the room frantically like you're drowning in a sea of hunger and you need a ramekin of ketchup for a life raft. Making a check sign with your hands when you're ready to pay also limits the necessity of talking. If that fails, try reaching out and grabbing the server on her way by, particularly if she's talking to the table next to yours. This will ensure that everyone else around you knows who's top dog. Using your words is for kindergarteners.

On the other hand, getting to know the server personally is always welcome, too. Ask what his or her name is, but do not offer yours. This is a one-way street, and having someone's name who doesn't know yours is how to express your superiority.

Monopolize the server's time
It's not just out of pettiness that servers don't like it when you monopolize their time (because it's fun for them to be standing there making friends and playing grab-ass all night). But the three extra minutes here with you means four extra minutes they have to wait to get to the computer to put in the last table's order, maybe more if they get pulled aside again on the way. Next thing you know, the server is putting in three orders at once, which throws the kitchen off a step. Sounds small, but all of it is compounded over the course of a service. Think of a restaurant like a giant Rube Goldberg device, where, ideally, the outcome is a plate of food shooting out of a catapult into your face.

Never mind, though, because caring about any of that is for losers. Breeze through every meal like you've got amnesia, it's your first time eating out ever and you have no idea how a restaurant works. For example, if one person asks for a drink and yours is almost done, just wait until the server comes back to ask for yours. Who could've guessed you were gonna need another one when there are still two whole sips left in the glass?

Talk about the tip
The server knows it and you know it. This is a business transaction. Don't bring it up, ever. That is of course unless you want to totally own the situation like a boss. Imagine if you were visiting a hooker and every step of the way she reminded you that you were paying her for the service. Hot, right? That's what a server is: A pro who you're paying to be nice. Bringing it up spoils the fantasy a little but also keeps servers on their toes, and knees, metaphorically speaking, which is where they belong.

Speaking of which, mistaking a server's hospitality for an invitation for physical contact later on is so hot right now. Here's how you can tell if the server or bartender likes you: Did she smile at you at least once over the course of the interaction? Game on, bro. You're spending, like, $25 on this salmon after all -- to the victor go the spoils. When in doubt, ask yourself what a pillaging Viking with an internet-porn addiction would do, and then do that.

Try a taste of everything
Servers do actually want you to try new things. In fact, a good server is excited about sharing the cool stuff they have on the menu with people. Asking for a taste or two of a wine or beer is for rookies, though. Asking to try seven different kinds of beers, then fretting over a decision like you're buying a new car just means you care more. Do this before everything you order, and people will recognize the sensitivity of your advanced palate.

Forget how time and space work
Being hungry does weird things to a person's sense of physics. The best worst customers treat the entrance to a restaurant like they're crawling into a worm hole that leads to a different dimension where space and time have no rational definition. Sure, I'll be right back with the bread in a moment -- by the way, if a restaurant brings bread, they're going to bring bread -- let me just attend to this table right next to yours which you can clearly see me at. Probably no need to wave me down on my way back from four feet away and ask where the bread is, though. But keeping your presence fresh in the server's mind can't hurt, right?

Rewrite the menu
Real power diners know that the menu is just a set of gentle suggestions. It's considered a pro move when you don't even bother looking at it and start calling out the names of dishes you've had elsewhere. If you don't like balance of flavors the chef has spent a career trying to perfect, then just do the polite thing and tell him or her that the food bores you. All restaurants have all the same ingredients as all the other ones on hand at all times anyway, just in case you show up. Suggesting that you have an allergy to a certain ingredient (even though you don't) also lets everyone know that you're a unique snowflake who isn't afraid to be the center of attention. That's just called confidence.

Assume the server hates the job
"So what else do you do?" Servers always love to hear this question, because it makes them feel great about their life choices. Being a professional lifelong server is a noble calling, and if it weren't for the people who take their jobs very seriously, then where would you eat? Either way, be sure to put them on guard by assuming that they are working this "menial" job just because they have no other options, despite the fact that you'll probably find way more advanced degree students paying their way through grad school at whatever decent restaurant you go to than in the average population. They probably just didn't pull themselves up by their bootstraps like you did.

Forget everything I just said
To be honest, servers are going to bitch and moan about customers no matter what you do, so you can't really win in this game. The server's primary function, besides polishing silverware, is pretty much to complain nonstop. The good ones do actually take pleasure in showing guests a great time and sharing their appreciation of food and drink with others. But that's only true of the people who seem like they're actually there to have a good time and not to look for more reasons to be miserable about their miserable lives and take it out on someone who has no choice but to grin and bear it.

A good server is going to do everything you ask of them with a professional smile, because there is an art to doing what they do well. There's an art to enjoying a meal as well, though. This is a complicated dance, with many different steps. And like any other dance, it only works out when both parties are invested in pulling it off.

Ask Men

Boston hearts the 9tz: Today's hot new crop of local bands have (sorta) old souls

2011-06-30T09:15:00.000-05:00

^{Photo: LARA CALLAHAN}

Check out this piece I wrote for Stuff Magazine Boston <3s the 9tz: Today's hot new crop of local bands have (sorta) old souls about how the nineties are the new eighties in Boston, and probably everywhere else too but who cares. And while you're there go read this piece in my usual Liquid column about how being in a band and being a bartender are the exact same thing and the rest of the cool stuff in the Music Issue here.

I was walking down Boylston Street a couple of months ago, past the spot where I used to smoke cigarettes (and try to get people to notice me smoking cigarettes) back in my days at Emerson. And I realized all the kids were wearing XXL flannel shirts, cut-off corduroys, and giant socks billowing out of dirty Doc Martens. I thought to myself, "Weird, I guess we're doing this '90s nostalgia thing already." Then I got depressed about my inevitable mortality, but that's pretty standard.

I should have seen it coming. We've already wrung every last drop of neon synth juice out of the '80s by now. And these nostalgia feedback loops tend to run in predictable cycles. Here we are about 15 years from the grunge decade's meaty nucleus, and the train is arriving right on schedule. With Portlandia, the IFC satire of the quintessential '90s city, Fred Armisen of SNL and Sleater-Kinney's Carrie Brownstein are rehashing ancient hipster clichés for gags. The quintessential alternative video show, 120 Minutes, is coming back this year to MTV2, presumably with actual videos and definitely with affable '90s bro Matt Pinfield at the helm. Young bands like the UK's Yuck are blowing up on the back of their Dinosaur Jr. and Yo La Tengo shtick, while Austin's Ringo Deathstarr are blowing minds - and eardrums - with their MBV and J&MC noise attack (that's My Bloody Valentine and the Jesus and Mary Chain, young'uns). And recently reunited '90s grunge-metal icons Soundgarden are about to embark on a summer tour.

Oh man. Remember the '90s? It was so rad. Boston music fans probably love the '90s more than most, because that was the decade were we were the most relevant on the national rock stage. You could actually see a half-dozen Massachusetts bands on MTV on any given day back then. Weird, right? Just this year, we've seen shows from big Boston bands past like Buffalo Tom and Papas Fritas, even a few shows from Evan Dando and Juliana Hatfield (the most swoon-worthy '90s drug buddies ever). And late-'90s Boston rock heroes the Sheila Divine have officially reunited and are recording their first album of new material in years.

"I definitely notice the '90s coming back," says Aaron Perrino of the Sheila Divine. "I'm hearing lots of bands influenced by shoegazer stuff, and then I hear a lot of bands doing Smashing Pumpkins- and Pavement/Dinosaur Jr.-type rock. Our culture continues to recycle itself, and it seems like the echo chamber is happening a lot faster. I am definitely excited for the resurgence of Brit pop, but scared to death of a return to grunge."

Nate Rogers has noticed the trend too. The organizer of the Mixtape series, which brings Boston bands together for one night to perform covers of songs from a single year, was gearing up for the 1997 edition in early June when we spoke. "The '90s editions definitely get the most pre-show buzz," he says. "I'd have to say it's a coming-of-age thing. When I chose 1997 for this edition, it was met with some dubious responses, because my peers, aka fellow ‘olds,' were like, ‘Dude, that music was terrible - "Semi-Charmed Life" and "Sex and Candy." ' But like it or not, this was the seminal music for some kid out there who got his first handjob in the car to ‘Bittersweet Symphony.' And now those very kids want to relive the glory, either by starting '90s-flavored bands or coming to Mixtape shows."

And those very kids include the six buzz-worthy Boston bands you'll meet in the next few pages. They're coming to an iPod and stage near you, so read up on their stories, sounds, and upcoming shows - and their major soft spots for the '90s. And then get listening: taken together, they make a perfect throwback soundtrack to summer.

^{Photo: STEPHEN LABOLLITA}

FULL BODY ANCHOR
Influences: Quicksand, Archers of Loaf, My Bloody Valentine, Deftones, and Dinosaur Jr.
Hear them now: on The Restless EP at fullbodyanchor.bandcamp.com.
Hear them live: on July 15 at O'Brien's.

"I really do see [the '90s coming back] on a local level," says singer Eric "Rice" Edmonston of the Boston-based indie-rockers Full Body Anchor, who formed in 2009 and turned a lot of heads at this year's Rock 'n' Roll Rumble at T.T. the Bear's. "[There's] the shoegaze crew like Dirty Dishes, Static of the Gods, and Endless Wave, or some of the more Chapel Hill-type bands like Butterknife. Of course, Varsity Drag has that '90s edge too," says Edmonston. "It's great to see local bands sharing in their love for such a great era of music."

The band's latest, The Restless EP, their third release, is a collection of five songs that straddle the line between romantic and anthemic. Think a heavier Buffalo Tom, with the screamy fuzz of Archers of Loaf and the fiercely droning effects of Hum.

The members of the five-piece were in high school in the early '90s, Edmonston says. "That's when we really started playing and exploring music. We still love and listen to a lot of those bands that we grew up with, and it really plays a major factor in what and how we write songs as a band. I would have to say my fondest musical memories are getting to see the bands I fell in love with in small venues in Boston, like Sloan and Idaho at T.T.'s, Creeper Lagoon at Bill's Bar, or Low and Soul Coughing at the Paradise." Now they're playing Hub stages and inspiring quite a few band crushes of their own.

^{Photo: LARA CALLAHAN}

DIRTY DISHES
Influences: Smashing Pumpkins, My Bloody Valentine, Nirvana, Deftones, Stone Temple Pilots, and Fugazi.
Hear them now: on In the Clouds at stolenapples.com.
Hear them live: on July 31 at Great Scott.

It's only natural to be influenced by the era of your youth, Dirty Dishes' multi-instrumentalist Alex Molini says. His outfit, by the way, is my new favorite Boston band of the year. I've been describing the band as Juliana Hatfield singing songs from Gish with J Mascis on guitar. A friend said it was the Breeders having a baby with Minus the Bear. But whatever their forerunners, they may be the most likely of the new crop of bands to make it out of here alive, if shows like their recent appearance at the B.O.M.B. Fest, where they opened for the likes of Weezer and Best Coast, and their nomination as best new act in the Boston Phoenix/WFNX Best Music Poll are any indication.

The young Allston/Somerville four-piece, who played their first show in February of '09 and released a debut EP later that year, are currently in the process of finishing up a forthcoming record. You can count on it having some '90s sheen. "Musicians are influenced by the music they grow up around, and those who stay true to their inspiration and why they got into music in the first place will always leave traces of that in their current music," Molini explains. "It's embedded in them as artists. People think musicians and bands just appear out of nowhere and that it's some coincidence that musical styles and genres are cyclical, when in fact being a musician is a lifelong process."

"I remember buying Siamese Dream by the Smashing Pumpkins when I was in sixth grade," Molini adds with a smile. "I have yet to stop listening to it."

^{Photo: LARA CALLAHAN}

THE YEAR MILLION
Influences: Nirvana, Radiohead, Oasis, Jane's Addiction, R.E.M., Failure, the Stone Roses, Jeff Buckley, and Shiner.
Hear them now: on The Year Million at music.theyearmillion.com.
Hear them live: on July 16 at the Middle East Upstairs.

"It's been bubbling up from under the surface for a while now, I think," guitarist Jason Calieri says of the '90s resurgence. He and his band mates, who call Brighton HQ, have had it in mind since they released their first EP, The Year Million, in 2010. "There seems to be a slight shift towards guitar and away from synth, and you're seeing bands pop up with shoegaze or grunge influences. If we start to hear some bands drawing upon early-'90s post-hardcore (Quicksand, Helmet, Orange 9mm), hey, that would be cool too. Hopefully nu-metal will stay dead and buried, though. I don't think the world needs a resurgence of wallet chains and baggy pants."

I hear a distinct Incubus vibe in his band's sound, though Calieri points to Jane's Addiction as one of the most important influences. Either way, theirs is a hypnotizing, sexier slant on the muscular '90s guitar sound. "There was a really awesome time for music - sort of a holdover from late-'80s alt rock, right before all the Seattle bands hit, when some great stuff was happening. And that's when I first heard Jane's, and was completely blown away. [They were] gorgeous and epic."

^{Photo: LARA CALLAHAN}

GUILLERMO SEXO
Influences: Dinosaur Jr., Sebadoh, Sonic Youth, Guided by Voices, Archers of Loaf, Swervedriver, Lush, Pavement, Built to Spill, the Pixies, and My Bloody Valentine.
Hear them now: on Vivid Nights at guillermosexo.bandcamp.com.
Hear them live: on July 16 at the release party for their forthcoming record, Secret Wild, at Precinct.

"I think it's cool that this is happening," says guitarist and vocalist Reuben Bettsak. "But like with any resurgence, there are bands that do it well and bands that just suck at getting the sound right, or maybe they just suck at writing songs." Guillermo Sexo certainly don't fall into the latter category, though they do mine the tinny, feedback-heavy '90s for their sound; they even record with Justin Pizzoferrato, an engineer who has also worked with Dinosaur Jr. and Thurston Moore.

Even before Bettsak (the only original member left in the group) founded the band in 2004, he was enamored of the '90s Boston sounds - think Syrup USA, the Dambuilders, the Wicked Farleys, and Swirlies. Bands like Dinosaur Jr. and Sonic Youth further shaped his guitar playing, and such influences are evident in the band's shouty, danceable, high-energy rock, which somehow ends up being a lot more fun than those style markers might make you think. "I can't help but dial in those fuzzy, distorted delay sounds of the '90s," Bettsak says. "It's part of our sound. Our goal is to take those influences and create something that sounds different."

^{Photo: JEROME ENO}

YOUNG ADULTS
Influences: Dinosaur Jr., Fugazi, My Bloody Valentine, Lifetime, Number Girl, Green Day, Nirvana, and Sonic Youth.
Hear them now: on Black Hole at youngadultsma.bandcamp.com.
Hear them live: on July 2 at Great Scott and July 16 at Precinct.

"It was only a matter of time before the overtly '90s sound came back around," says guitarist and vocalist Chris Villon of the swirling, noisy rock three-piece Young Adults, who've been punching it out in the Allston trenches for about two years and released their first LP, Black Hole, in Europe last fall. "But I feel that in part it never went away. I just think that the more overlooked (in popular culture) bands from the '90s are now being championed as the true torchbearers of that sound, which they certainly are. Instead of Pearl Jam and Blink 182, we're talking about Sebadoh and Yo La Tengo. That's a way better discussion." But he does admit that one of his own fondest '90s musical memories involves major hit-makers. "This is gonna make a lot of people feel old, but bringing home Green Day's Dookie was an exciting moment in my life," he says. "I played that thing until it was scratched to shit." 

Drummer Kurt Villon, Chris's brother, agrees that the '90s are having a moment, both locally and nationally. "I have noticed this not only with music but an overall image. The fashion and sound are making a comeback. Just like any time period, the '90s are most definitely being rehashed. . . . We played a show a little while back, and three of the four bands were grungy. Someone asked if we were at a show in the '90s."

^{Photo: LARA CALLAHAN}

MOONS
Influences: Hum, Swervedriver, and Failure.
Hear them now: on "Jupiter Drive" at wearemoons.bandcamp.com.
Hear them live: in August at a TBD locale.

"There's some kind of trend happening, and it's been slowly building over the past couple of years," says multi-instrumentalist and singer Aaron Cerretti of the spacey fuzz-rock outfit Moons, who are set to release their debut record, Stasis, in early summer. (And if the rest of it is as good as teaser track "Jupiter Drive," they could be jumping to the head of the line soon.)

Guitarist Sean Delay agrees. "Look at [recent] tribute albums for bands like Failure and Hum, for example. A lot of amazing music came out of that decade. Part of it might be the generation gap creeping up on people who missed out the first time - including us, to a certain extent. Whatever the reason for the trend and whatever you want to call the trend, it's really great to see a revival of crunchy, guitar-driven, riff-oriented rock with hooks, real singing, and some balls."

"We all come from metal and hardcore backgrounds, but '90s rock is a big, conscious influence on us," says drummer Liam McCabe. "Our '90s time machine will never power down."

Stuff

Getting a sonic high with Ringo Deathstarr

2011-06-30T09:11:00.000-05:00

No offense to sex, but I've always been more preoccupied with the drugs and rock-and-roll part of that equation. Historically speaking, there has never been a shortage of songs about drugs (or songs written while on drugs, or of musicians taking drugs to make songs to take drugs to), but actually capturing the feeling of space angels tickling your brain stem while swimming through gently swaying fields of purple grass isn't so easy to accomplish. That's why the songs from Austin noise-pop trio Ringo Deathstarr — in particular, the devastating dopamine rush of "So High," which features a string of effects pedals marked "MBV" and "J+MC" and twitchy, whorling waves of feedback and call-and-response male/female vocals — have me pressing the play button on my computer repeatedly, like a lab monkey waiting for the cocaine pellet to pop out.

Part of the dilated pupils and elevated-heart-rate blast of that song and others on Ringo debut Colour Trip (Sonic Unyon) is the nostalgia triggered by hearing it done so well. Not only does it sound like drugs today, it sounds like drugs gone by, and the music that we took drugs to listen to back then. Be right back, got to go make a call.

It's addictive stuff, this nostalgia. And unlike a lot of bands too stubborn to admit their influences, 28-year-old Elliott Frazier says he proudly claimed his from the beginning, when he was still trying to get the band off the ground at a house party at SXSW in 2005. "All these people kept flaking out on me, not taking it seriously at first," he says. "There weren't any bands doing this kind of sound at the time that we knew about — there was some stuff in New York City, but we had no idea. People were just like, whatever, this is a joke." Twelve members cycled in and out of the band's orbit before bass player and vocalist Alex Gehring came aboard in 2007. Daniel Coborn rounds out the line-up on drums.

Frazier doesn't mind the constant comparisons to recent tour-mates A Place To Bury Strangers and the Raveonettes, or any of those early-'90s UK bands. "That's what I was trying to do," he says. "The only thing that is annoying about that is when people compare us to a certain band, the way they write it is as if we're unaware of it. Everything we do is totally on purpose. Sometimes people say stuff like 'They're not inventing anything new.' We never set out to invent a new genre anyway, and we never said we were going to."

Whether or not you should call the genre they didn't invent "shoegaze" might be a matter of personal contention, however. "That's just a silly old term that people use," Frazier says. "What does it mean? You tell someone and they have no idea . . . you have to explain what it is. When people ask me, I just tell them noise-pop rock or whatever. If they seem like they would know what shoegaze is, then I say shoegaze, but whatever, it's all a bunch a hooey."

Shoegaze is supposed to refer to guitar bands that are running their instruments through so many effects pedals that they spend the entire show staring at the ground. For Ringo, whose sets can be notoriously loud, figuring out the logistics of that sound can involve sometimes-problematic guitar-change choreography. It's worth it, though, says Frazier, who considers Ringo Deathstarr a guitar-led band first and foremost.

"The guitar is the leader of the band, it's the thing that we're trying to present to everyone," he says. "This whole style of music seems like the perfect way to have a guitar be front and center."

RINGO DEATHSTARR + THE VANDELLES + YOUNG ADULTS + THIEF THIEF | Great Scott, 1222 Comm Ave, Allston | July 2 @ 9 pm | 18+ | $9 | 617.566.9014

Boston Phoenix

The December Sound drop a sonic boom

2011-06-30T09:08:00.000-05:00

Order out of chaos. If making music is all about conjuring brief moments of something-ness out of the void, it's no wonder that it speaks to us on such a primal, biological level. What are our lives, after all, beside sad little symphonies, one part layered on top of the next — occasionally harmonious, more often discordant. And human civilization, just a really long EP. Houses are songs and cities are, too: songs that stave off the nothingness of the lag time between tracks.

A grandiosity-minded outfit like the December Sound cut through to the core of that metaphor by digging down past a few layers of artifice and erecting walls of noise that could be the soundtrack to some creation myth. Consider the track "Massed Senses," from their still-in-production second album Beneath the Ruins of Me — with its giant vistas of celestial feedback and colliding asteroids — or the planet-sized buzzsaw of "Never" from their 2005 homonymous debut. Or, if that comparison doesn't work for you, let's leave deep space behind and try deep ocean. To wit, what does the ominous drone of an expanse of underwater mountains eroding over a millennia sound like? That's the idea they're going for.

They usually get there. Sonic mastermind Zack Sarzana (who returned from a sojourn to New York City a while back) and bandmates Jimmy Rossi Jr. and John McGuigan have always had a knack for finding the plot in a vast haze of feedback, occasionally shaping that cosmic stuff into a pop song cloaked in noise; or, at other times, simply laying waste to the room with power blasts of guitar-pedal mayhem.

It's a process you might call shoegaze, or noise, and it's one with many possible antecedents in the recent and distant indie past, but Sarzana said he was detached from any specific references when writing this new record. "There wasn't anything contemporarily, or retroactively, being used as an influence — at least on a conscious level. These sounds were a result of isolation."

The band had ceased to exist for about a year at the time he was writing. "We'd pretty much disbanded due to a black period that fell upon me, leading to a metamorphosis that would change the outlook on what music meant personally. As opposed to writing tracks that we felt we wanted to write, there were songs that had to be written. It all came from a pure place. I feel the December Sound finally sounds like the December Sound. I remember having a discussion with a loved one about music, breaking it down. We were on the topic of traditional and classical music, and she turned and told me, 'The intent was different, they were making music for God.' That statement haunts me."

Sounds a bit dramatic, but you could easily picture God scrolling through the giant iPod in the sky to the "D" section and thinking, "Yeah, this will do. I'm about to build me a canyon."

No '60s-style British sound or '90s feedback vapor trails for the band this time out, Sarzana says. "The only movement I'd ever want to be a part of is Mascagni's Intermezzo." Perhaps paradoxically, that classical music way of thinking applies to their sampling techniques as well.

"Though we use technology to our advantage, it's still an organic process," Sarzana says. "Any sample that you hear is an instrument being played as a sample for the duration, as opposed to just sampling an instrument and looping it. There is a big difference in the feel and the discipline. 'Classical' instruments in a modern way? Yes. Putting timpani through fuzz, orchestral bells as the lead instrument, castanets and harpsichord to create rhythm tracks. . . . It's still the wall of sound, but we are trying to forward the technological approach by using the old toys in a new way, while blending and breaking rules with new ones. A bit claustrophobic now, but there's no doubt about it: the sound is bigger than ever and has so much color. I think we found the fine balance of those components. It just sounds massive."

Boston Phoenix

Nightlife: the week ahead

2011-06-30T09:06:00.000-05:00

PHASE EFFICIENCY This new night brought to you by Basstown and the newly formed electronic arts community ElecSonic, pulls together a lineup of audio and visual talents on both floors of Good Life. Techno from Ecuador’s Balian, tech-house from Colombia’s Lu Saldarriaga, and live drum and bass from Chicago’s Sigi Mueller are just the tip of the electronic iceberg. July 1, 9 p.m. Cover: $5. 21+. Good Life. 617-451-2622, www.goodlifebar.com

PICÓ PICANTE Organizer Sara Skolnick describes Pico Picante as “the first of a series of nightlife events that pay homage to emerging genres that celebrate staples of Latin American music through electronic reworks, such as tropical bass, Moombahton and digital cumbia.’’ DJs Pajaritos and Oxycontinental, perform, along with live electro act PC//MM. July 2, 7 p.m. No cover. Lily Pad. 617-395-1393, www.lily-pad.net

BOMBS OVER SWAGDAD One of the best-named Saturday night parties in recent memory finds Somerville hip-hop act Initials B.R. dropping bombs on the mike, and resident DJs Mikey Lee, Walkmaster Flex, and guest Ming Ming pumping a smooth mix of jams through the night. July 2, 9 p.m. 21+. Cover: $5. O’Briens. 617-782-6245, www.obrienspubboston.com

TWIST & CRAWL It’s Fourth of July eve, which is like the New Year’s of the summer, so there’s no reason not to extend the good times to Sunday night. Paul Foley, the hardest working DJ in town, and Boston hip-hop standout K-No Supreme drop new wave, post-punk, indie and ’80s alternative. Do it for America, do it for freedom. July 3. 21+. No cover. Church. 617-236-7600, www.churchofboston.com

Boston Globe

Nubar still acts like a new bar

2011-06-30T09:05:00.000-05:00

Nubar, you’ve got a lot to learn, but your heart is in the right place.

Traditionally, hotel bars are situated at either pole of a spectrum that runs from the lively and boisterous center of a neighborhood’s culture to a purgatory-like holdover for weary travelers.

Naturally, every hotelier strives for the former, particularly in the past few years, where the success of pace-setters like Eastern Standard have revitalized the concept of what a hotel bar is supposed to be. One suspects that’s what Nubar in the Sheraton Commander outside Harvard Square hopes to replicate, albeit on a more intimate scale.

It’s not there yet, although it is taking steps in the right direction. At the very least, it’s a huge improvement over the space’s previous tenant, the thoroughly mediocre 16 Garden, especially in aesthetics. Low-slung ottomans, lea-ther armchairs and cafe tables are arranged by a fireplace for informal lounge drinking — and there are comfortable, high-backed, plush seats at the glowing onyx bar. Service is professional and courteous, but the staff seems split between hungry cocktailians and old hotel vets who don’t live for mixology like the new school.

The cocktail list is a little of each, alternating between new-old classics like a Jack Rose (unfortunately made with bottled grenadine), an Aviator variant and a Sazerac — as well as total bummers like a Pomegranate Martini and an Elderflower Cosmo (sad trombone noise).

There’s nothing wrong with catering to a wider crowd, but they’re already a fine choice for people staying in the hotel. And Harvard Square already has enough havens for people who take their drinking seriously. They could better situate themselves to attract a younger bar industry crowd, especially if they take a page from the regularly thriving, late-night hotel bar Noir. Here’s hoping they do. They’ve got the right ideas and a nice space.

Boston Metro

There’s green in ‘Whitey’ tees

2011-06-30T09:03:00.000-05:00

‘‘Whitey’’ Bulger’s arrest sparked the printing of dozens of ‘‘Free Whitey’’ T-shirts.

Shirt makers capitalize on fugitive’s capture

It’s hard to say how long after reputed Boston mob boss James “Whitey’’ Bulger was apprehended last week that the T-shirt presses started running, but it must have been soon. Now, a simple online search turns up dozens of different “Free Whitey’’ T-shirt designs on eBay and on apparel sites like Zazzle, including one that echoes the poster for the film “The Departed’’ and others that incorporate mug shots and sports team logos.

“T-shirts are in, gangsters are in, it’s a win-win idea,’’ a Boston designer who goes by the name Megatrip wrote in an e-mail. He’s printed up shirts with a Bulger mug shot on them and is selling them for $24.94 at RedBubble.com.

“Growing up in and around Boston, Whitey Bulger was the original ‘original gangster.’ The Original O.G. Everybody wants to support a criminal.’’

Then Megatrip backpedals a little.

“I don’t actually want Bulger free,’’ he adds. “But it makes for a great T-shirt.’’

Indeed, these days T-shirt designers are quick to jump on news stories in hopes of profiting from the public’s fascination with troubled celebrities or other boldface names. “Free Lindsay’’ T-shirts flooded eBay after Lindsay Lohan briefly went to jail, as did “Duh, winning’’ shirts after Charlie Sheen’s outrageous televised rants last winter. “Weinergate’’ tees are also not difficult to find.

Dave Quigley says the intent of the “Free Whitey’’ designs he’s selling at TShirtTimes.com “wasn’t to glorify Whitey or to start a movement to actually restore his freedom, it was more a commentary on the legend of Whitey.’’

Quigley, 25, remembers Bulger being a fixture of news stories throughout his childhood in Lowell.

“When I heard he got caught, my first thought wasn’t that they should let him go, but that I was disappointed that the legend, in a sense, came to an end. That is what prompted me to make these shirts.’’

A fair number of shoppers apparently feel the same way, at least based on his sales numbers, Quigley says.

“They are selling incredibly well,’’ he says. “We made our first sale within seconds of putting the shirts up for sale.’’

You might say these guys have a pretty good racket going.

Boston Globe

Not Me Dot Com

2011-06-18T00:10:00.000-05:00

Harry Campbell for The Wall Street Journal

Want an Internet that doesn't know your pant size? A guide to regain your privacy

Those Home Improvement tools you bought on Amazon? They know about them. The vacation to Ireland you researched on Expedia, too. Not to mention the fact that you "liked" the new Taylor Swift single. (Did you? Really?)

On the Internet, nothing you say or do ever really disappears. We leave behind a trail of digital breadcrumbs everywhere we go. The fact that your behavior on the Web is being monitored by companies who want to utilize that info for their own interests isn't a big surprise, but the sheer size of the data footprint each of us accumulates may give you pause. In the end, they're using it to tailor-make a just-for-you Web experience that you're supposed to like—whether you like it or not.

It's the more alarming part of what author Eli Pariser, board president and former executive director of MoveOn.org, discusses in his excellent new book "The Filter Bubble," which, I should probably point out, I'm seeing ads for on a half dozen different sites I just visited. How did they know?

None of my friends are being shown the same ads because their search queries don't indicate that they'd be interested in the subject—their browsing is being affected by their own specific behavior. And it's not just happening with ads. That same concept of creating a personalized Internet experience applies to much of our browsing now, even basic Googling. There's no longer such a thing as standard search results. Instead we're shown a list of sites calibrated to best match the types of things it's assumed we'd want to know about.

Mr. Pariser writes in the book that "informational determinism,""invisible auto-propaganda" and personalization of the Web experience for each user combines for "a Web history you're doomed to repeat....a static, ever narrowing version of yourself—an endless you-loop." Or, in other words, the fact that you once searched "Morrissey lyrics" will haunt you for the rest of your digital life.

Whether you don't want companies to know which health problems you've been researching, or are just annoyed of being reminded about, say, a toaster oven you bought in 2006, a little Internet sweep-up is a good idea. Here are some basic steps you can take to help minimize your digital footprint:   

Browse Privately

Most browsers have options for private or incognito browsing. These modes make where you go on the Web less trackable, meaning that Firefox or Google will not save information about the sites you visit. Unfortunately it won't hinder third-party data collectors who vacuum up your data against your knowledge while you are browsing, but it's better than nothing. In Firefox you can select "Start private browsing" under "Tools." If you're using Chrome, click the wrench icon on your toolbar to open an "incognito" window.

Also consider using what are known as online anonymity systems like Tor (torproject.com). By routing your browser requests through a network of servers around the world, Tor makes it much more difficult for outside parties to track your Web habits or identify where your searches are coming from.

Disable Those Cookies

Cookies are the markers that companies leave on a browser to identify you. Sometimes this is helpful, as in when you want to keep a set of preferences every time you log in to a favorite site, but other times it has a more troubling intent. Disabling third-party cookies will help to stem the tide of outside companies using, trading and even selling the information gathered. In Safari, go to "Preferences," where you will find a padlock icon and a series of choices of whom to accept cookies from. Select "Block cookies from third parties and advertisers." In Firefox, under "Preferences," click on the "Privacy" tab and tweak the cookie and history options.

Get Some Privacy Add-Ons

Instead of going under your browser's hood, download add-ons at privacychoice.org to do the heavy lifting. TrackerBlock helps regulate which companies can collect information about you, and PrivacyMark will do its best to eliminate those pesky ads that are targeted specifically to you.

Tweak Your Google Settings

If you're worried about Google keeping track of everything you've searched for, there's a quick fix: Under "Settings," go to "My Account," then "Dashboard." Scroll down to "Web History" and click on "Remove items or clear Web history." Some people like the fact that Google keeps track of your searches because it helps create better results, others do not. To tweak your privacy level under your Google account (which anyone who uses Gmail has), go to your "Google Accounts" page and click on "My Account." From there you'll find "Authorizing Applications & Sites" where you will see third party sites you've granted access to. You can then choose to "Revoke Access" to any of them.

Tighten Facebook Privacy

Facebook is one of the first places companies look for data on people. It makes sense, as it's the place where we most freely share that information. By default Facebook encourages you to make things public, so crank up the privacy settings. You'll find the "Privacy Settings" page under the "Account" pull-down at the top right of the page. Inside are a huge number of options that let you customize the way your behavior on Facebook is shared with other users. You can also choose to remove your profile from Google search results, which will help cut down on people you don't know accessing your profile.

Log Off

People take for granted that they have privacy on their home computer. "Every time you want to leave a site, log out if you can, otherwise whatever you were last doing is going to 'follow' you. That's how these ads work," says Jackie Cohen, editor at AllFacebook.com. That's true whether it's Amazon, Facebook, Google or many other sites. "Never just click away from Google," advises Ms. Cohen. If you're logged on through your Gmail account you can expect the searches you're making to be connected to your profile. That sort of fix may not completely strike everything from the record, but it will help do the next best thing: make it easier for you to forget they ever existed...even if the Internet itself never really does.

Wall Street Journal

The Intrigue of Chartreuse

2011-06-18T00:05:00.000-05:00

F. Martin Ramin for The Wall Street Journal

French monks. Secret recipes. An otherworldly color. Belly up to a most mysterious liqueur

While we're certainly appreciative of all the efforts various sects of monks have made in the advancement of knowledge throughout history, how about their work in the time-honored tradition of throwing one back? Praise be to the Carthusians then, a French sect responsible for the distillation of Chartreuse for over 400 years. The most notable variety, Green Chartreuse, is a liqueur made from some 130 herbs and plants, the full extent of which are only known by two or three people at any given time (although the exact recipe has changed once or twice). It's kind of like "The Da Vinci Code" of drinking.

The spirit has a distinctly sweet, herbaceous and medicinal flavor (people thought booze was medicine until relatively recently), with an assertive anise note. It's a worthy addition to your home shelf if for nothing else than mixing the outstanding Prohibition-era cocktail The Last Word, made with equal parts gin, lime juice, Green Chartreuse and Maraschino liqueur. Stellar variations abound, like the Final Ward, invented by Phil Ward at Death and Company in New York City, which substitutes rye for gin and lemon juice for lime.

A second variety of the liqueur, Yellow Chartreuse, is made with a similar recipe, but the addition of honey and saffron make it brighter and sweeter, and provide the striking yellow color. Its lower proof (80 instead of 110) also makes for less boozy mixing with gin, as in another Prohibition-era standout, the Alaska (1 ½ ounces gin, ¾ ounce Yellow Chartreuse, 2 dashes orange bitters).

F. Martin Ramin for The Wall Street Journal

If you've already taken to the flavor (admittedly, not for everyone) skip ahead to Chartreuse V.E.P. (Vieillissement Exceptionnellement Prolongé). Available in both colors, it's the same recipes aged even longer in oak. At around $20 a glass, it doesn't make sense to mix with it, but it does make for a more mellow approach to the densely concentrated herb profile, with less of the spicy burn. Old-timers suggest drinking it cold as a digestif, but at 108 proof you'll still want to drink it slowly, which will help you savor the full bounty of flavors. It just might be a religious experience.

Wall Street Journal

Pitcher perfect

2011-06-18T00:00:00.000-05:00

Photo: JOEL VEAK

I've done a lot of thinking about this lately, and I may have finally figured out the best part about going out to a bar: drinking. You know what the worst part is? Standing there not drinking. The latter scenario happens with surprising frequency. Maybe it's too busy and the beleaguered barkeeps are in the weeds. Or maybe they're taking their goddamned time worrying over your cocktail like a surgeon doing a delicate booze operation.

Dive and sports bars solved this conundrum years ago by serving beer in pitchers, but they forgot to account for the fact that a giant vat of warm, watery beer is gross. Cocktails in pitchers then! It's a eureka moment that more and more bars around the city have been having of late.

At Coppa (253 Shawmut Avenue, Boston, 617.391.0902), they're offering a simple, refreshing Aperol Spritz ($24), a popular Italian summer cocktail made with Aperol, prosecco, soda, and oranges. Manager Mary Edes says the fun in cocktail pitchers comes from the sharing, which kind of makes me feel guilty about that whole "I'm sick of waiting for a drink" premise I was going with a minute ago.

"I think the communal aspect of sharing a pitcher is a huge part of it. It is sort of like when people order wine." As with wine, Edes says, one person in a party plays the role of host, making sure everyone's glasses are filled.

"I think that people like to share things," agrees Kathleen Semanski, GM at the recently opened Scholars American Bistro and Cocktail Lounge (25 School Street, Boston, 617.248.0025). At Scholars, they're doing 68-ounce pitchers ($40) of cocktails like Kati's Weissen-gria, a sort of rum punch made with Sailor Jerry Spiced Rum, peach liqueur, triple sec, fresh lemon juice, and fresh peaches and oranges, all topped with Allagash White. Then there's the Tequila Smash, made with José Cuervo Tradicional Silver Tequila, limoncello, fresh watermelon, basil leaves, ginger ale, and fresh fruit juices.

A pitcher, Semanski says, "makes for a social atmosphere. It's kind of festive to order a shared cocktail, and nice to have options other than sangria, Margaritas, or a scorpion bowl. You'll see more places doing it and changing them seasonally, giving people a chance to try something new altogether."

There's also a perceived value in pitchers, Edes says, although it can't actually be a deal. At least not according to the law. First off, an establishment can only serve mixed drinks in pitchers to two or more people at a time. So no solo cocktail-pitcher debauches for you, rummy. Bars also can't increase the volume of alcohol contained in a drink without increasing the price. "In other words, if you sold a pitcher of Margaritas, you'd need two or more people to serve legally. And if the size of the pitcher holds five normal Margaritas, and they charge $10 for [one Margarita], you must charge $50 for that," says Jon Carlisle of the Massachusetts Treasury Department, which oversees the Alcoholic Beverages Control Commission.

Patrick Sullivan of Legal Sea Foods, which recently opened the Liberty Wharf outpost Legal Harborside (270 Northern Avenue, Boston, 617.477.2900), says that's something a bar has to be conscious of. No pitchers of Manhattans for me then. "That sounds like it could be ugly," he says. "The last thing in the world we want to be doing is overloading our guests. You're sitting the sun, drinking pitchers, and the next thing you know . . ."

But the deeper you get into pitchers of cocktails, Sullivan says, the softer they are. The key is to balance that softening effect with ingredients that will hold up. "Some of these things you put in pitchers, the longer it sits, the water reacts with it and it actually gets better. Something that might have been really intense at the beginning will mellow out as you drink it." Slated to open around the time this issue hits streets, Legal Harborside's roof-deck bar will have 10 dedicated pitcher options, from sparkling-wine cocktails and beer punches to classic cocktails and old-time punch recipes. All of the other standard cocktails on the menu will be available in pitchers of various sizes as well, with prices ranging from $12 to $15 for two imbibers to $30 to $40 for parties of four or more.

"You can have pitchers of anything now," Sullivan says. "You name it." Except a Manhattan, but that's probably a good thing.

Stuff

Red Lantern: A beacon of hope

2011-06-17T23:57:00.000-05:00

COURTNEY SACCO/METRO

When is the last time you walked into a restaurant and were really impressed? Not by the food or drink, I mean, but, like, literally struck by how it looks. Been a while, right? If so, then a trip may be in order to Red Lantern, the new Asian-themed restaurant and lounge from the folks behind the stylistically similar Shrine at Foxwoods. With its distressed, exposed white brick, dozens of Buddha statues, paper bird cage lanterns and towering ceilings, it looks like an artfully crumbling temple that doubles as a sleek nightclub come sundown. You’d never know it was once a Bertucci’s chain franchise.

The sleek first impression, and what’s likely to be a flashy Back Bay-South End crowd, may give off the vibe that this is a style over substance operation, but so far I’ve been pleasantly surprised with both the confluence of Asian-influenced cuisine and more serious than you might expect cocktails.

Bar manager Joe O’Connor, also of Shrine and formerly doing great stuff at Gaslight, and his staff, including another Gaslight vet Lena Krivosheyeva, are seeing to the latter, with scorpion bowls, tiki-style cocktails and recipes that lean on the Asian theme using sake bases, plum, lemongrass, ginger and lychee throughout. Future iterations will include drinks served in hollowed out watermelons, honeydews, pineapples and the like.

I’ll have what he’s having

O’Conner favors the Bamboo Juice, made with Ron Zacapa 23-year rum, Don Julio tequila, passion fruit and pineapple juice. “It’s a tiki-style drink, served in a tiki mug, which is fun, and it fits the theme [of the bar]. It’s got a good kick with the rum and tequila, and the pineapple and passion fruit make it super refresh-ing.” And at $10, he says, the boozy blast “is a good bang for your buck.

Luke’s recs

If it’s spectacle you want, the Flaming Plum shot, made with Umeshu, a sweet and sour Japanese ume fruit liqueur, Palinka, a Hungarian brandy and fire (made with, uh, fire) will do for now. Just make sure you let it cool off first.

» I enjoyed a Manhattan variation made with Suntori Yamazaki whiskey, sweet vermouth and orange bitters, as well as the light, crisp and refreshing Mikado made with Green Chartreuse, lime juice, orange bitters and Prosecco.

Boston Metro

Death Cab’s back, mellower than ever

2011-06-06T17:04:00.000-05:00

DEATH CAB FOR CUTIE

Codes and Keys

One of the most anticipated indie rock records of the summer is neither indie nor particularly rocking. The genre-defining band that rose to fame on the brush-stroked teardrop verses of singer Ben Gibbard’s epistolary romances has long since graduated from its humble indie origins, where deft, keenly observed albums like “We Have the Facts and We’re Voting Yes’’ established its bona fides among the sad young literary men and women. Here on Death Cab for Cutie’s seventh record there’s little guitar to speak of, resulting in a more docile affair, even by the band’s already mellow standards. For the most part, demure keys and light atmospheric touches stand in for guitarist and sound architect Chris Walla’s traditionally vibrant (albeit measured) rock production, as on the title track and the piano meandering of “Some Boys.’’ On the latter, Gibbard offers a recurring motif, singing “some boys don’t know how to love.’’ Gibbard has proven he can lay waste to hearts sans guitar with his work in the Postal Service, but on prior Death Cab records the band’s interlocking layers of nervy riffing have undergirded his wistful lyrical sentiment and plaintive vocals with something the less swoon-inclined could sink their teeth into. The immediately engaging songs on “Codes and Keys’’ where this approach stays intact — like “Doors Unlocked and Open’’ and “You Are a Tourist’’ — are conspicuously rare.

Boston Globe

Cults, 'Cults'

2011-06-06T17:01:00.000-05:00

The New York duo Cults’ short history provides a handy primer for the way this blogwave trend of bands works now. The first single from the nascent act was promoted on the taste-making Gorilla vs. Bear site in April 2010, and met with rapturous approval from the downloading cognoscenti. Fawning praise followed. To record their debut LP, they enlisted Shane Stoneback — the engineer behind the eminently bloggable forerunners Vampire Weekend and Sleigh Bells — and were signed to Lily Allen’s imprint of Columbia. Next stop: minor fame! Their music perfectly encapsulates the dark, ’60s-style girl pop of the current nostalgia-mining, romance-hardened zeitgeist brought on by bands like Vivian Girls and Best Coast. “You Know What I Mean’’ is a swooning waltz set to weeping strings and echoing finger-snaps — a “You Don’t Own Me’’ for the Flip-cam generation. True to the early pop blueprint, even the happiest of the crushing-out, hand-holding soundtrack stuff here — like potential Song of the Year contender “Go Outside’’ — is couched in a bitter, familiar sentiment: Love rules. Love hurts.

Boston Globe

A Guide to Happy (and Legal) Tumblr-ing

2011-05-29T13:24:00.000-05:00

Blogging without 'stealing' is much easier than you think

Information wants to be free. At least that appears to be the sentiment among bloggers, the majority of whom subscribe to a what's-mine-is-yours-and-what's-yours-is-mine policy (but mostly the latter part). By this point, the blogoverse has become a lot like what Picasso supposedly said about inspiration: A good artist copies, but a great artist steals.

Of course, back in his day you couldn't exactly right click on a canvas in a gallery and drag it over onto your bedroom wall, so what did he know?

Whether or not information should be free is a different matter altogether. On popular blogging platforms like Tumblr, the point is moot. For the bloggers who use these sites, the exchange of copyrighted material and intellectual property—other people's photographs, music, lists of all the amazing things you ate for lunch—isn't just an aspect of the form, it's practically the entire business model.

Call it the copy(paste)right approach to creativity, where much of the allure is in reblogging posts from contacts in your network in an Internet version of the telephone game. Each repetition takes you further and further away from the work's original creator.

It doesn't have to be that way. There are services that make content available for bloggers to reuse on their own sites, free of thorny ethical issues and legal complications. Most bloggers aren't aware of these resources or don't seem to know what the appropriate standards actually are.

Posting a photograph that belongs to someone else, for example, even with attribution and a link is illegal if done without the author's authorization. I know, really scary right? No, the Internet police probably aren't going to be kicking down your door to ask questions about that copyrighted photo of Ke$ha you just posted, but when it's almost as easy to do things the right way, why not at least try?

"It's a willful ignorance," says Bert Krages, a Portland, Ore., lawyer who specializes in intellectual property issues, and has written "Legal Handbook for Photographers: The Rights and Liabilities of Making Images." He says, "A lot of people are disinclined to find out what their legal obligations are for fear of finding out they aren't as broad as they think."

Posting someone else's intellectual property on your blog basically comes down to stealing, says Mr. Krages, particularly when it comes to professional photographers. "Even a minor usage of a photo on a blog can destroy the value of an image with regard to licensing it for other uses."

There are a few ways to lessen your unlawful-blogging footprint, though. Much like a chef who cooks with only the happiest free-range chickens, there's such a thing as ethical blogging as well. Here's how:

Use Creative Commons

One of the most bountiful and convenient ways to ensure you're blogging with a clear conscience is to utilize services that operate under a Creative Commons license. Creative Commons is an organization that works with websites like Flickr, Picasa, Vimeo, SoundCloud and Scribd, as well as individual producers of creative content, to provide standardized and streamlined licensing solutions under a variety of different permission levels. "We want information to be free when the people who have created the content want it to be free, and to have an easy way to make it free under their terms," says Eric Steuer, Creative Commons's creative director.

Get content from sites like Flickr

Flickr alone has some 100 million images that are available to use under sharing guidelines. Picasa, another vast photo database, owned by Google, also offers the option to search for photos that are free to use by bloggers. Other smaller, more creativity-focused sites like moregueFile are sprouting up now as well.

"The purpose of the site has been for allowing people to use images in the least restrictive way," says Johannes Seemann, morgueFile's business lead.

While photos make up the majority of reblogged content, music, video and large pieces of other people's writing also regularly show up. Like Flickr and Picasa do for photos, sites like SoundCloud, Vimeo, Blip.tv, SpinXpress and Wikimedia Commons offer more writing, songs and video than you could ever possibly use.

Refine your Web searches

If you're looking for the right photo to match an essay on your blog, take the extra step to enable a customized Creative Commons search. From Google.com select "advanced search." From there, click "usage rights." Searches can then be further narrowed down with options like "free to use or share." Or simply go to search.creativecommons.org where you can find content that's been approved for commercial use or further modification and tweaking. Yes, this is the Internet, where suffering through five extra seconds is an eternity, but like anything else that's good for you, once you get in the habit, it will become second nature.

Ask nicely

Perhaps the best advice for bloggers is to simply be mindful of where their content is coming from. You'd be surprised how far a little common courtesy will get you.

"The best thing to do is let the photographer know that you would like to use their image," says Zack Sheppard, senior community manager at Flickr. "Photographers are often happy to have their image used on a blog without asking a fee."

When in doubt, cite your source

As Katherine Barna, Tumblr's director of communications, puts it, "Be fair. Use proper credit and attribution if sharing content that wasn't originated by you."

"Reputational currency is important," says Mr. Steuer of Creative Commons. "Do the best job you can to attribute it to the person that created the content, linking back, saying their name." It won't get you off the hook legally, but compared to no attribution, it's a start. You'll appreciate it when your own blog gets big and the credit comes back around.

Wall Street Journal

Festival bound? Plan ahead

2011-05-29T13:20:00.000-05:00

Over the next few months, thousands of concert-goers will herd into dusty fields and pass out from a combination of heat exhaustion and alcohol poisoning. To help you avoid this, we consulted with Frank Bombaci Sr., the organizer of the third annual B.O.M.B. Fest, taking place this weekend in Hartford, Conn. With acts like Weezer, Snoop Dogg, Wiz Khalifa and Best Coast playing, we figured we could trust his tips.

» Don’t lurk by the main stage
“Pay attention to all the stages and really give those artists the opportunity to be heard. At the smaller stages, the music is phenomenal — even if lots of times people don’t really know who they are,” says Bombaci. “They might be headlining next year, so now’s your chance to see them up close.”

» What to carry in
“It’s always good to bring a rain jacket,” he says. “You never know when the rain gods are gonna open up.” Actually, yes you do. During every outdoor concert ever! Another tip: Lots of festivals, like B.O.M.B., have relaxed restrictions on bringing water in, but not all. Find out ahead what you can bring and save $75 on that Poland Spring bottle. And, it’s obvious but worth noting: “Don’t forget sunscreen,” says Bombaci. “You watch people over course of the day turn into lobsters.”

» Plan ahead
“You want to get to the event early and stake out some good, strategic spots,” says Bombaci. “With a festival like ours, there’s so much music and multiple stages, you should look at the schedule and map out your strategies. Anchor your day around the one band you definitely need to see to help you figure out what you have time to check out elsewhere.”

» Don’t bring this
“At our event,” says Bombaci, “it’s not wise to bring in any kind of cooler. Those aren’t going to be allowed. You usually can’t bring in a professional style camera either. Pocket cameras are cool, but people have to be understanding that artists don’t like flashes in their faces.” Also consider leaving the doobies at home, you hippies. “It’s not a good idea,” he says. “Lots of times you walk into a festival, go to the security counter and they want you to empty out your pockets.”

» Other mistakes
“I’ve seen people bring small children to festivals, which is cool to expose them to music and a fun crowd, but you’ve got to make sure you bring ear protection for kids, and make sure they’re lathered up with sunscreen.” But what about my other child — the family dog? “Our events don’t allow pets, but some do,” says Bombaci. “I don’t think it’s a wise idea.”

Metro

Monkeys deliver dark Brit-pop

2011-05-21T10:20:00.000-05:00

Alex Turner (seen performing in London earlier this month) fronts the Arctic Monkeys. (Dave Hogan/Getty Images/File)

Arctic Monkeys are restless, which is true of any band touring in advance of a new record — their fourth, “Suck It and See,’’ arrives June 7 — but it’s also specifically the UK four piece’s primary musical mode.

In an hour-plus sold-out set at the House of Blues on Thursday, the band remained relatively immobile and surprisingly short on banter (considering frontman Alex Turner’s lyrical verbosity). Their songs, on the other hand, moved in fits and starts, as with the darkly rumbling “Library Pictures,’’ which broke to a crawl, then suddenly accelerated like an aggressive driver in rush-hour traffic.

The Monkeys specialize in a measured sort of anxiety, offering tightly wound darts of garage-rock riffing and furious high-hat stuttering (drummer Matt Helders was especially impressive) that break into moments of reconsidered quiet. No Arctic Monkeys song, save perhaps for the era-defining 2005 hit, “I Bet You Look Good on the Dance Floor,’’ is content to let its momentum gain sway. Guitar lines climb and crash like a volatile line graph, while the two guitarists tag team back and forth on one jerky chord riff.

It’s a contemplative young man’s prerogative to constantly over-examine his thoughts and actions, and Turner is smart beyond his 25 years. No surprise, then, that his songs play out like a garage rock cover of Hamlet’s monologues. On songs like “This House Is a Circus’’ — all gnarly bass teeth and upstroke guitars — the band offered its second mode, an apocalyptic grime. Much of the band’s recent work has a swarming, pestilent guitar foreboding, and Turner’s unique voice, like the hum of a molested beehive, can be downright threatening. It’s a surprise coming from a mop-topped, tight-trousered young man who writes Brit-pop with looping riffs that build steady tension before opening into startling (but ultimately logical) chorus singalongs. Something spooky always seems to be lurking under the surface.

Countrymen the Vaccines — purveyors of the surprising semi-hit “Post Break-Up Sex’’ — played a set of crunching, ’90s-style indie-rock with a slouchy T-shirted affect that was something like Morrissey fronting the Pixies.

Boston Globe

Boston boozing, by the numbers

2011-05-18T10:09:00.000-05:00

Photo: JOEL VEAK

Late last year, The Daily Beast released one of those wacky made-for-the-Internet lists, ranking the 40 drunkest cities in America. They used statistics like the average number of drinks consumed per person per month, the percentage of the population who are heavy or binge drinkers, and the number of deaths from alcoholic liver disease. Our fair beery burgh of Boston placed a respectable eighth, behind the likes of Austin, Milwaukee, and Reno, all fine shit-faced company. By their math, the average person in Boston throws back 14.38 drinks per month. Amateurs.

Yet earlier in the year, Men's Health - whose editors must live in a city where bourbon flows from the taps - ranked Boston as the least drunk city in the country. Clearly they've never been to Allston on a Friday night.

Studies be damned: much of Boston's national rep is based on our boozed-up bona fides, right? Ask people from other states what first comes to mind when they think about Boston, and they'll probably answer, in this order, pricks, drunk pricks, the Red Sox, drunk Red Sox fans, Sam Adams beer, Cheers, and Ben Affleck and Aerosmith doing Irish car bombs on St. Patrick's Day with Paul Revere.

Ask a Bostonian about our city's drinking stature, and the likely response you'll get is, "Fuck you - you're buying this round." Then, after you fist-fight, he or she will probably say, "Well, what part of Boston do you mean?" Are we talking the North Station area after a Celtics game? The South End during brunch? Government Center around happy hour? Or Southie, like, every day?

So I posed a question to some STUFF readers and my network of friendly scumbags: what's your idea of the booziest neighborhood in the Boston area, in terms of the number of bars and liquor stores as well as the frequency of sidewalk puke and bro fights? Allston seemed to be the consensus winner. "Sidewalk puke has to be Allston, hands down," one responder offered. Bridge-and-tunnel tourist-trap 'hoods were well represented too. "Faneuil Hall is like the place for bro-fight happenings," said one reader. "I'm going with the Faneuil Hall/Canal Street area with Allston a strong second," another said. "Working down there for years, I saw some pukey bro fights for real."

Anecdotally speaking, Allston, with its bevy of college kids, dive bars, and bushes-pissers, seems a natural winner. But hard numbers are a little trickier to nail down. The Boston Police Department declined to speculate on the issue - perhaps because they were too busy breaking up fights in the C-6 police district in Southie, an area singled out by a friendly prosecutor who spoke with me.

The folks at the State Treasury Department, who oversee the Alcoholic Beverages Control Commission, said they don't compile statistics on the distribution of liquor licenses by neighborhood. But a 2009 report from the Boston Public Health Commission did just that, breaking down the number of liquor licenses per 100,000 people across neighborhoods. The areas with the highest concentrations of licenses were the Back Bay (574), downtown (1263), Fenway (245), and the South End (698). Not much of a surprise. One interesting statistic found that, contrary to what stereotypes seem to indicate, the two areas with the highest median incomes in the city - the Back Bay and downtown - are also the most ripe for boozing. Allston/Brighton, by the way, clocked in with a mere 131 licenses per 100,000 residents, fewer even than Charlestown's 158. Mattapan had a measly 30; Southie, a respectable 287.

But they're all a bunch of lightweights by North End standards. A recent report from the North End / Waterfront Residents' Association claims the restaurant, cobblestone, and stereotype capital of the city is also the drinkingest.

"The North End / Waterfront has more alcohol licenses than any other Boston neighborhood," the study found. "With a population of about 11,000 residents, the North End has approximately 10 percent of the 1,025 alcohol licenses in the city, despite having only 1.7 percent of the population." There are 109 people per liquor license in the neighborhood, compared with 629 in Boston overall.

Okay, good. That makes me feel a lot better. Tourists from all over the world flock to the North End. You thought it was because of the history - it's really because of all the booze. Represent us well, North End; for now, anyway, it seems our city's drinking reputation is in good hands.

Cass Mccombs

2011-05-18T10:05:00.000-05:00

Cass Mccombs with Sleepy Very Sleepy At: Cafe 939, Tuesday

The first time you hear “Dreams Come True Girl’’ — the closest that California troubadour of the folky astral planes Cass McCombs has ever come to writing a proper pop hit — it might not make sense. It’s a song that sounds ripped out of its time — or, rather, gently coaxed through a musical wormhole from the era of AM pop radio. On Tuesday, McCombs and his five-piece band put the loping number through an extended excursion that pushed its parameters into jazz, forlorn country-style slide guitar, and barely there folk whispering.

Mixed in with a selection of songs spanning McCombs’s sizable and varied body of work — including songs from his freshly released album, the sullenly resplendent “Wit’s End’’ — the song sounds more at home. Far from derivative in the traditional context, McCombs’s work is a musical shoebox filled with shuffled memories. He’s like an Elliott Smith whose obsessions extend beyond the Beatles. His 90-minute set drew on selections from his entire body of work — and inspiration from the works of countless others.

The fragile “Buried Alive’’ sounded like a foreboding Air song with the electronics stripped out and then stitched through with the wending piano line of “Karma Police’’ — imagine one of the sad robots from “OK Computer’’ broken down to its bare component parts. Elsewhere, McCombs and his band conjured a tired, neutered Chris Isaak, barely summoning the willpower for one last beachside seduction.

On the slumbering “Windfall,’’ they played like the gentlest jazzy country shack band in the tropics, with McCombs half-singing/half-mumbling, “Even the birds are tired.’’ Listening to songs like these at home, many of which revolve around two- or three-note bass lines, it’s easier to get lost in their moody simplicity; but live, in the nearly pitch black, silent room of Cafe 939, a little went a long way. It wasn’t until the end of the set, with the “Sweet Jane’’-style chord progression of “Bobby, King of Boys Town,’’ or the messy rock injection of “I Cannot Lie,’’ that the band, and the audience, emerged from their slumber.

Boston four-piece Sleepy Very Sleepy impressed with a set of piano-led, slow and low bass rumbling that broke into occasional cathartic heights.

Boston Globe

Dancing to life's desire lines with Lykke Li

2011-05-18T10:01:00.000-05:00

You already love Lykke Li. You may not know that you do, exactly. You may not know what she does (snaps hearts in half with her voice), or where she's from (Sweden), or even how to pronounce her name (uh . . . ?), but you've definitely heard the two singles off her sophomore record, Wounded Rhymes (Atlantic). One being "Get Some," with its half-threatening, half-boner-inducing lyric "Like a shotgun needs an outcome/I'm your prostitute/You gon' get some." That ubiquitous indie hit isn't even the best song on the album. Follow-up single "I Follow Rivers" must have wormed its way into your brainpan by now like a slithering romance virus.

"So why are your songs so good?", I ask Li via email. "I can't answer that question," says Li, who plays a WFNX "Acoustic Session" at the MFA on Friday before her show at the House of Blues. "But a wild guess is that it brings out repressed feelings, and in the end we all just want to dance, right?"

The repressed angle is exactly right. She pulls emotions from the dark depths, like a lovelorn ice-fisherman trawling beneath the frozen surface of despair. The dance part is true too. Both songs have been remixed by the likes of Beck, Mike D, and Tyler the Creator (though if you dance to Tyler's horror rap "Rivers," you are on some other shit).

"I don't seek it at all, as my hope is that I can deliver the best version of my own songs," she says of all the cut-up jobs. "So a lot of the times, I feel a bit violated when somebody slams a house beat on top of me. But with that said, I did very much enjoy Tyler's version, as it brought something new to the table."

Sadness is what she brings to the table, as on the hangdog romance "Sadness Is a Blessing."

"Sadness is like a good friend of mine," she says. "I have gotten to know it pretty well throughout the years, and I usually write about what I know and feel, so I guess it is easy and natural for me. It's not that I'm not happy, it's just that when I'm happy, I'm usually busy being happy and not too keen to write."

There's two sides to the pain here, though. The type she feels, and the type she seems keen to inflict. Violence and love go together.

"There is definitely a thin line between pain and pleasure. I think heartbreak can be like a fuel, as it is such an unpleasant state to be in. I had to fight my way out of there, so I definitely might have acted somewhat violent in the writing process, and that is what shines through in the songs, as well."

That way of thinking aligns with the classic '60s-girl-group heartbreak pop that pulses through the record. There was a darker edge to the way those groups used to sing about love. It seemed more life-and-death back then, before pop stars started singing about Facebook hand jobs and sniffing bath salts in the club or whatever.

"As a young girl it was something I could relate to," she says. "That cinematic black-and-white style of living, very Romeo and Juliet. If you love something dearly and deeply, of course it hurts when it leaves you, and I ain't afraid to show it." But, she adds, "I do understand now that I need to grow out of this adolescent way of thinking."

Not just yet, please. Is she surprised that people around the world have taken to her simple, minimalistic, barely accompanied songs about love? Should we have faith in the good taste of the general population again? "I'm not surprised, as my beliefs in life are that truth, sincerity, and honesty is worth struggling for and that it hopefully shines through in all you do and that you are not alone in that matter. I try to live by Nina Simone's words: 'Don't give people what they want but what they need.' "

Boston Phoenix

Gym Rat Control

2011-05-11T18:41:00.000-05:00

Why is the Planet Fitness chain of health clubs trying to alienate people who love to work out?

Slate

Of all the people whose ire you might actively seek to provoke, you'd think the ones who can bench press 500 pounds would fall pretty far down the list. Not if you're on the marketing team for Planet Fitness, the rapidly growing national health-club chain that has recently declared war on bodybuilders. In a ubiquitous series of television commercials that debuted last fall, the chain openly mocks those brutish gym rats who grunt and flex their way around the weight room, alienating everyone around them.

Maybe you've seen the one where a greased up Schwarzenegger-type swaggers through the gym repeating the mantra, "I pick things up and put them down." Or the one where another "lunk"—that's what Planet Fitness calls these sorts of people—struggles to tie his shoes. A third shows a screaming gym buffoon as he fills out a membership application, flexing and making sound effects as if he's maxing out on the squat rack. "Not his planet, yours," reads the tag line.

Pretty funny stuff, right? Not to the bodybuilders and serious weight lifters who find the way they're portrayed in the commercials offensive and the way they're treated in Planet Fitness clubs quite possibly discriminatory.

I've felt that discrimination myself firsthand. I'm not what you would call a bodybuilder, mind you, or a regular Planet Fitness member, either. But I have been to number of different Planet Fitness locations in the past few years, mostly as an "emergency gym" when I'm traveling. (The fact that I even have an emergency gym should tell you something about my approach to working out.) In some respects, it's not a bad place to lift weights—very clean and quiet, and set up in an unusual yellow and purple design scheme with painted signs reading, "Judgment-Free Zone." No one will judge you, presumably, if you partake of the bowl of candy on the reception desk, or of the weekly Pizza Mondays promotion. (Yes, they serve pizza in the gym.)

Then there's the fact that certain bodybuilding exercises—like dead lifts and clean-and-jerks—are prohibited. CEO Mike Grondahl has further promised, "We'll be the only fitness chain that can say we'll never try to sell you personal training. A lot of people will say we are dead wrong with this historic move. But the world was flat once, and who the hell needs a friend for 50 bucks an hour?" The facility also comes equipped with a "lunk alarm"—a siren that is supposed to go off whenever someone grunts too loudly or drops a heavy weight on the floor. (The latter is a moot point at most Planet Fitness locations, where they don't even have any large weights.) I've never set off the alarm, but on more than one occasion, in different locations around the country, I've been lectured by staffers for breathing too hard when lifting, and I've gotten dirty looks for excessive sweating in the weight room. Clearly it's not my planet either.

(Nor is it this guy's, a Planet Fitness member who claimed last week that he had his membership revoked for making a video of himself flexing in the locker room. Sorry bro, they kind of have a point with that one.)

I'm not the only one who's noticed this assault on people who are actually trying to get a workout. Men's Health called Planet Fitness "The Worst Gym In America," and over the past few months, my comrades-in-(big)-arms have been speaking out against the chain on blogs, in bodybuilding forums, and at the websites of weightlifting and health-club magazines. In March, a group of lunk activists successfully banded together to have the Planet Fitness You Tube channel shut down by organizing a mass flagging of their commercials as offensive material. The chain was forced to start a new one, under a different name. And other gyms have started making their own commercials in response to Planet Fitness.

"It was the revenge of the lunkheads," says John Craig, a Planet Fitness spokesman. In cases like this you might expect a corporate brand would back down from a perceived slight to potential customers, but that's not part of the PF business model. If anything, they're redoubling their offensive, on the theory that any blowback from the musclehead community will only bolster the company's image with its core customers. "The guys in the commercials are like caricatures of steroid-addled muscleheads," Craig says. "We think if you're using steroids, and prancing around the gym, that you're fair game."

The strategy is working. "It's just a Curves that allows men," wrote one critic on their Facebook page, referencing the hugely successful, if not quite competition-level, women's gym that has some 10,000 locations around the world. Planet Fitness, for its part, has been one of the fastest growing players in the fitness industry over the past couple of years, with 422 clubs in operation and around $150 million in annual revenue, according to Craig. Those numbers put the chain in the company of other big industry players like 24 Hour Fitness and Gold's Gym.

Although it seems paradoxical—like setting up an all-you-can-eat buffet with a "No Fatties Allowed" sign—there's a lot of money in tailoring a fitness club to people who don't actually want to work out. The percentage of Americans who belong to some sort of health club has been holding at 15 percent for years, according to Stuart Goldman, managing editor of Club Industry, a magazine for fitness-business professionals. That's left companies looking for new ways to tap into the doughy majority and capitalize on casual exercisers.

Planet Fitness isn't the only chain that's working this angle. Many others have lowered prices, scrapped long-term contracts, and ramped up their programs for children, who comprise one of the fastest-growing demographics in the business. Another industry trend: Cordoning off the weightlifting areas from the cardiovascular machines. If you're not going to kick the lunks out altogether, you might as well hide them in the back.

"Planet Fitness is run by smart businessmen," says Meredith Poppler, vice president of industry growth at the International Health, Racquet and Sportsclub Association. "There are thousands of average Jane's and Joe's for every big lifter. Many of those Janes and Joes are intimidated by grunting and 50-pound dumbbells. So, they decided to cater to the thousands at the expense of a smaller segment. It seems to be working quite nicely for them."

So it does, but should we take the success of special-interest gyms like Planet Fitness as a welcome shift in the culture of exercise? Or could it represent a sad departure from the one-size-fits-all health clubs of old?

We've already seen how the echo chamber of Internet news helps us to ignore any opinions or facts that we don't want to hear. What if something analogous were to happen in the fitness world? Imagine if every group had its own place to work out—a gym for muscleheads, a gym for fatsos, a gym for vegans, a gym for Slate readers. The pursuit of health might succumb to its own form of groupthink.

Sure, no one likes it when a loud, aggressive dude is intimidating people in the weight room. But there may be something to learn from living (and lifting) in the sweaty melting pot of American exercise. Even the most odoriferous lunk might have something to teach us, after all—whether it's a reminder of what we're trying to avoid, or a reassurance that it's possible to max out. Ultimately we all have to share the same planet. Sharing the gym might be a good place to start.

Slate

Arctic Monkeys escape the pitfalls of buzz

2011-05-11T18:37:00.000-05:00

Post-hype sleeper

Three for three with critically acclaimed #1 albums in their native UK. Top spots in countries around the world with each release. Early hype for their forthcoming Suck It and See (Domino). That's a pretty good track record. Nonetheless, you might be hard pressed to find anyone who seems overly invested in Arctic Monkeys these days. Likes them, sure. Still bugs out when "I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor" comes on at the club? Definitely. But that's about it. And it's not just on these shores. I call a London hipster friend to take the pulse of the once and future kings of Brit Rock. "They're just another rock band now," he says. "There's nothing exciting about them. They may as well be Oasis."

Oof. But wait, since when is being like one of the greatest rock bands of all time a bad thing? Particularly when the Arctics' initial claim to fame was an honor held at one time by Oasis, for the fastest-selling debut record in UK history: 363,735 copies in the first week. In the year 2006. The internet, you'll recall, existed then. NME promptly called that record the fifth-best British record of all time — but NME calls everything the fifth-best record of all time.

Maybe we should have been paying more attention. Humbug, from 2009, found the still-young lads exploring their darker, "mature" side. Suck It and See, aside from having an awful title (it translates from the Brit as "Give it a try"), doesn't engender much enthusiasm at the top. "Thunderstorms" finds the band in a slow, churning mode, far removed from the thrilling hairpin guitar turns and even quicker quipping by preternaturally wizened frontman Alex Turner on their most engaging work. On "Brick by Brick," drummer Matt Helders takes the vocal reins for a piled-up blast of mod swagger. "Shalala" fastens a careering guitar lead to a hook that could be a festival-sized sing-along.

But though there's a thoughtfulness here that you might expect from a band who've gone through the indignities of worldwide fame and giant expectations, there's not much to spaz out to — and isn't that what we want from our scruffy Brit rockers?

"Yeah, on the whole I suppose it's a bit more mellow, if you like," says the 25-year-old Helders. "I think the thing was, we probably realized it doesn't have to be a fast thing to be heavy. You can get a lot of weight into a song in different ways than going about it frantically."

That mellowed approach may have come from the record's being written by Turner messing around alone with acoustic guitar. "We did it in a more traditional way, writing lyrics and melodies and guitar chords and all that," Helders continues. "We used to just chuck a few ideas together and build a song out of that."

Not stopping to think about things is what allowed them to move on from the pressure of overwhelming early success. "I think that's the reason we did the second album so quick after the first. If we hadn't, we'd still be worried about it now trying to follow it. We had to do it while the momentum was there before we started thinking about it too much."

Now they've found themselves in the sweet spot of a band's career: big enough to garner love around the world, but not so much so that they can't maintain a sense of normality. "It's the ideal situation," Helders says. "It's something we were quite cautious of from day one, trying to stay away from every magazine and TV show. We didn't necessarily want to be famous, but you can't control that and balance that with wanting people to hear your music."

ARCTIC MONKEYS + THE VACCINES | House of Blues, 15 Lansdowne St, Boston | May 19 @ 7 pm | all ages | $27.50-$37.50 | 888.693.2583

Boston Phoenix

2011-05-09T12:25:00.000-05:00

Led by frontman Ryan Miller (center above), Guster was both familiar and fresh Saturday night at House of Blues, marking the band’s 20th year. (Photos By Robert E. Klein for The Boston Globe)

Guster, the now hugely popular band formed at Tufts University in 1991 as an acoustic guitar and bongos trio, has come a long way since touring northeastern college cafes. The effortlessly sunny group, now a four-piece, with five or six playing live, has expanded its sonic boundaries significantly, playing literal musical chairs during a triumphant show Saturday at the House of Blues. Brian Rosenworcel, whose bongo calluses must have some seriously gnarly miles on them by now, even gets to sit at a proper drum kit occasionally.

One thing that has not changed is the band members’ casually charismatic rapport with their fans. Frontman Ryan Miller, in particular, cracked-wise throughout the set, and served as a sort of sardonic Lennon to Adam Gardener’s indefatigably grinning McCartney on songs where they exchange lead vocal lines and blend together in harmony, as on the appropriately titled “Homecoming King’’ with its lyric about being “back in Massachusetts.’’

Miller’s songs, like “This Could All Be Yours,’’ despite their affable pop delivery, have always contained a tinge of sadness that moves them beyond the goofy jam band orbit Guster is often consigned to. Perhaps not so tinged when he’s wearing silly white sunglasses and draped in a shiny disco ball cape on “This Is How It Feels to Have a Broken Heart,’’ the only banjo, harmonica, and keytar disco song I can think of.

This year marks the 20th anniversary of the band’s first show, Miller said, before launching into a fan favorite, the Turtles’ “Happy Together’’-style harmonizing of “Barrel of a Gun.’’ Hard to top that, but Rosenworcel’s intentionally dreadful encore cover of “Under the Bridge,’’ a song as old as the band, proved that for all their success, the little Boston trio that could still don’t take themselves too seriously.

With their acoustic trio harmonizing, Philadelphia’s Good Old War channeled early Guster as well Simon and Garfunkel.

Boston Globe

Crafting a haven for craft beer aficionados

2011-05-05T10:33:00.000-05:00

KELSEY MARIE BELL

Craft beers may still be a small percentage of the overall market, but you wouldn’t know that from the way things are going in Boston’s bar world. Kendall Square’s Meadhall, which opened last week, is the latest entrant in the craft beer arms race. With some 110 taps, bar manager James Sklaver, recently of the Publick House in Brookline, says he hopes that means they’ll have a beer for everyone.

“We really wanted to please everybody, which we know is impossible,” he says. “We’ve got a lot of seasonal stuff. We’re going to try to rotate as much as possible and get the freshest beer possible. We spent a lot of money on our tap systems, we wanted to be the freshest system in town. A lot of bars don’t have the time or means to take care of the lines.”

Beer geeks will rejoice, no doubt. But the average drinker need not feel intimidated, he says. The menu is broken down by style, brewery, location, percentage of alcohol and size.

“People like that it is set up by style,” Sklaver says. “It makes it easier to find what you’re looking for and introduce yourself to a style you don’t know a lot about. It’s an educational menu, hopefully.”

There’s always room for improvement

If all goes well, this new bar in Kendall Square should come as welcome news for drinkers in the traditionally desolate, but now burgeoning nightlife locale. Like the brainy, technology-driven neighborhood where it resides, the imposing, two-floor space seems to have the nerdy part of the equation down. But as in the beer making process, and the service industry in general, there is both an art and a science to it.

Opening weekend, as can be expected in any new endeavor, found them far less adept at navigating the former. Service, in fact, was comically confused. The space — part lab, part cafeteria, part dormitory rec room — seems to struggle with its identity as well. Here’s hoping they don’t fall into the trap of the similarly beer-minded and vastly overrated nearby Lord Hobo, leaving hospitality out of the complicated equation.

Meadhall
4 Cambridge Center,
Cambridge, 617-714-3879

Boston Metro

A trifecta of Derby cocktails

2011-05-05T10:31:00.000-05:00

A traditional mint julep served in a julep cup is one cocktail option on Kentucky Derby day. (Beau Meyer/Istock Photo)

Cocktails are much like any other accessory: They move in and out of fashion with the change of seasons.

The Kentucky Derby this weekend (the big race airs at 5 p.m. Saturday) signals the kickoff of one of our favorite warm weather cocktails, the mint julep. Bars around the city will feature the traditional version of the venerable recipe, while a few will trot out variations. One that sounds rather interesting: The Regal Julep from bar manager Grant Anderson at The Regal Beagle in Brookline. It’s made with 2 1/2 ounces of Woodford Reserve bourbon, 4 fresh spearmint leaves, 2 tangerine wedges, 1 bar spoon raw sugar, and a splash of soda water.

To make your own traditional mint julep at home, Anderson says, muddle a bar spoon of sugar with a splash of soda water. Add 2 1/2 ounces of bourbon, 4-6 sprigs of mint, shake and strain into a Collins glass (or julep cup if you have one) filled to the top with shaved ice, then garnish with a fresh sprig of mint to activate the flavors with the aroma of the herb.

The shaved ice is key, so take a muddler to regular cubes in a metal bowl to get the right consistency. Any bourbon will do, although a sweeter bourbon, as opposed to one too hot in alcohol content, is preferable. For something outside the whiskey realm, Anderson recommends his recipe called the Floppy Hat, a cheeky reference to the gorgeously ornate and oversize hats traditionally worn at the Derby. The Floppy is made with 2 ounces of Firefly Sweet Tea vodka, another traditional Southern-style spirit, 1 ounce of lemon juice, 4-6 muddled raspberries, and a sparkling wine float.

Boston Globe

DuPrees young and older deliver songs for the ages in Eisley show

2011-05-04T06:57:00.000-05:00

As if we needed any more evidence that the DuPree family has talent to spare, the Texas indie-pop outfit Eisley — composed of siblings Sherri, Stacy, Chauntelle and Weston, and cousin Garron — Monday night at the Brighton Music Hall ushered youngest sister Christie and brother Collin on stage. The two opened the night with a set of her wistfully strummed crestfallen folk pop. Christie DuPree, in both appearance and fluttering elegiac voice, called to mind a “before’’ version of Sherri in Eisley’s early years — bright-eyed and hopelessly romantic, unburdened by cynicism.

Headliner Eisley is touring behind its recently released, and stunningly disconsolate, third full-length, “The Valley,’’ which finds the elder sisters enacting musical episodes of something out of Fitzgerald — all beautiful and damned and throwing themselves into fountains, as on the bewitching “Mr. Moon,’’ a defiant blow-by-blow of a failed romance sung in aching harmonies. Or is Eisley more Dickensian? The pining songs here have a certain cobwebbed-wedding-cake-in-the-attic aesthetic — Ms. Havisham was, after all, an original emo girl.

On “Watch It Die’’ lead guitarist Chauntelle took the rare lead turn, with the three vocalists wending between the cracks of the song, layering counter-melodies on top of three-part harmony. On “Sad’’ and “Better Love’’ they worked up a muscular guitar power that somehow maintained a sundressy feel. Later on, Stacy left her perch behind the keyboard and took up the acoustic guitar for the gorgeous “Kind’’ while the rhythm section took a break. By the time the band performed the romantic eulogy “Ambulance’’ and the ghostly “Marvelous Things’’ an observer might have found himself at a loss for words.

New York duo the Narrative chipped in with its own version of the Eisley family model: acoustics, keyboards, and teary harmonizing. Its set had only a few memorable tunes, but the stage banter was so goofy and awkward it came all the way back around to endearing.

Tequila Terroir

2011-04-30T11:17:00.001-05:00

F. Martin Ramin for The Wall Street Journal

This Cinco de Mayo, skip the pitchers of margaritas and school yourself on the distinct regions of Mexico's finest spirit

More discerning tequila drinkers know it comes from the agave plant and can recognize the difference between the major types: the unaged blancos; reposados, which are aged in oak between two months and a year; and añejos, which spend between one and three years in barrels. But more advanced types treat it like wine, digging into its appellation of origin and learning about how a variety of factors like soil and weather will effect the final product. You could spend years studying, but if you just want to choose one to sip this Cinco de Mayo, here's a cheat sheet to the major regions.

JALISCO LOWLANDS: Most of the agave used in tequila is grown in the state of Jalisco, in or around the city of Tequila and a few others like Amatitán. Here the volcanic soil imparts a spicier and earthy quality as in the finish of 1) Herradura Reposado ($50), or the small batch 2) Casa Dragones Joven ($275). Lowlands tequila usually has more citrus notes.

Jalisco Highlands: Because this region gets less rain than the lowlands, and the solid red clay soil makes the agave roots work harder to get down to water, the plant gathers a lot of minerals. The result is a richer product high in natural sugar like 3) Avión Reposado ($55), with its fruit notes of pear and peach.

Tamaulipas and Guanajuato: A small amount of agave is grown in the states bordering Jalisco, like Guanajuato, where you'll find similar conditions. From there, 4) Corralejo Reposado ($30) is a standout, with ripe agave, a bright honey finish and mint notes. Tamaulipas is closer to the Gulf of Mexico, which can affect the aging process and impart a salty, sea quality to the agave. The result can be tropical and spicy, as in the butterscotch nose and banana-peel heat of 5) Chinaco Reposado. ($50).

Wall Street Journal