Joe Gross’s write up in Spin seemed like a reasonable starting point, but I’m going to go a lot deeper, and I’ll update this post with the results of my explorations.

001 1987.09.03 Washington DC, USA, Wilson Center

I’m going to go against conventional wisdom and say that the band’s first gig is worth listening to for historic reasons if nothing else, but absolutely not where you should start — there are only glimmers of the brilliance this band would soon achieve. This version of Fugazi is positively tentative, Ian MacKaye actually apologizes for inadequacies of the performance. If you saw them anytime in the 90s or after, this is a revelation just in how far they evolved. It’s also striking how much MacKaye’s guitar vocabulary in this trio performance includes held notes and noisy bits (which I think of as mostly Guy Picciotto’s domain) as well as the jack-hammer muted eighth-notes I think of as characteristic of his playing.15 Dec 2011

186 1990.03.14 Athens GA, USA, 40 Watt

So far my favorite of the early shows — 2 1/2 years on, they’re closing in on their 200th performance, and starting to sound like what I think of as Fugazi. Good set list. I like the “last call” announcement. 15 Dec 2011

420 1992.03.06 Washington DC, US, St. Stephens Church

By this point Fugazi is playing like the band members are reading one another’s minds. Jaw-dropping improv breaks in “Shut the Door” and “Reprovisional” are among the highlights here. 15 Dec 2011

478 1992.06.28 Berlin, GER, Tempodrome

“Suggestion” is the surprise here — it’s far from my favorite Fugazi tune, too nakedly preachy — the extended call & response break between MacKaye and Picciotto is almost chilling. “Glueman” is pretty amazing, too. I love the snare sound on this show, way upfront with a healthy amount of ‘verb. 15 Dec 2011

508 1993.03.21 Washington DC, US, Freedom Plaza

This one is remarkable in how honestly it documents what it could be like to experience Fugazi at a protest rally. This homeless rally took place in spitting distance of the White House, with repeated breaks — one thirteen wearing minutes long — while the event organizers negotiate with authorities to continue the event. Also a classic song-screeching-to-a-halt for MacKaye to request that an audience member modify his behavior. When the band is playing, they’re monstrous despite the dodgy sound (honestly/correctly flagged on the Live Series site as “poor.”) Not a starting point by any means, but gawd, it brings back some memories. 15 Dec 2011

510 1993.04.04 Charlottesville, VA, Trax

Hate to just parrot Mr. Gross, but “Promises” here is sumpin’ else. Fantastic vocal from Ian, pretty good recording of some fierce improv. The whales are angry! The run of old songs Gross mentions is also indeed intense. “Smallpox Champion” is a standout, too. Actually, the problem with this band is I want to claim almost every song is a standout. Audiophiles might want to start somewhere else, though.16 Dec 2011

I listened to the Neutral Milk Hotel albums a lot, but not so much in recent years. I felt like one of the few chumps there who couldn’t sing along with all the lyrics, even the really loopy ones. The audience mostly opted to double Mangum an octave lower; Jordan Hall has a very warm natural reverb, and it sounded pretty good. Mangum did some Q&A between songs, kinda like David Bazan does, which contributed to the intimate atmosphere. Spellbinding.

String quartet opener ACME (the American Contemporary Music Ensemble) treated us to a more-than-competent run through Satie’s Les Gymnopédies and an often stunning arrangement of Gavin Bryars’ Jesus’ Blood Never Failed Me Yet, which I had somehow never encountered before. (In retrospect this seems odd; I can almost imagine one of my former band leaders sitting us all down and making us listen to it at tortilla point, or some such.) It’s odd-but-somehow-logical cadence has a clear structural kinship with Mangum’s cover choice for the evening, Daniel Johnston’s “True Love Will Find You in the End,” (although Johnston’s tune is set in a more conventional time structure) and it’s certainly not hard to hear its influence in Mangum’s own work.

Then he brought up his brother Bob on electric guitar, and his two of his former bandmates in Scud Mountain Boys, Tom Shea on mandolin, and Stephen Desaulniers on electric bass (since Bob played some guitar in Scud Mountain Boys, it was very nearly a full reunion, but Pernice mentioned there’d been some recent discussion with original guitarist Bruce Tull about playing together again, too). Last night’s set was special in a way you don’t get to hear very often: both a little rough, and also spot-on. I don’t think the quick pre-song conversations about key and tempo were staged for the audience’s benefit, and there were a few audible blown cues — but the guys recovered from them really fast, and without a trace of tentativeness. Only band members who are really listening to each other can pull that off. Pernice was visibly laughing in the first chorus of Olivia Newton John’s “Please Mister Please” — which didn’t stop him from singing it like a heart wound was being reopened. And Desaulnier’s harmonies were just there in a way I wouldn’t expect after a 14-year hiatus. Magic.

In addition to being a fantastic writer, Pernice is also — back to baseball again! — a five-tool singer. He’s solid at the technical things rockers are not necessarily known for: intonation, breath control, mic technique — and he’s got compelling phrasing and often gut-wrenching (but critically understated, not oversold) emotional delivery, to boot. To my mind, Pernice and Ted Leo are at the top of the male indie-rock singing heap. So when I saw some singer-songwriter dude I never heard of getting set to open for Pernice, my first instinct was pity: “poor guy, he’s about to get schooled.” Only it turns out Paul Melançon is also a pretty great singer — killer pure tenor, an effortless upper register, gorgeous delivery and solid technique. He knocked Neil Finn’s “Don’t Dream It’s Over” — by no means an easy song to sing — outta the flippin’ park. Basically after about 4 or 5 bars of his first number I’d decided to buy his latest disc, and after I stopped being too distracted by his voice to pay attention to the songs (and his wry patter), I was committed to picking up everything I could lay hands on.

Dept. of egregious naval gazing: The Lizard Lounge was one of the venues for my first date with she who is now my wife (my wife! I feel like that always needs an exclamation point) and the Scud Mountain Boys, in a weird but awesome bill with Jenny Toomey and Jale, were in the first handful of live shows I ever wrote about on the Internets. Danger Will Robinson! Creeping nostalgia!

Mixtapes live in a weird intersection between well-produced pop-punk and lo-fi indie pop. On the one hand they have a fatter drum sound than I expect from low-budget indies; on the other, the co-ed vocals sometimes have just enough unsteadiness to be endearing (not grating). They write insanely hooky tunes about stuff like sexual frustration, classic Metallica, coping with life, feeling sour grapes-y about an ex, and guilt over not wanting to go to a party. They tackle these subjects with keen observation and sharp humor. If they have a flaw it might be a little too much self-awareness; I could give them a song-about-writing-songs penalty flag, but it’s waived on account of general awesomeness. So far they favor frequent, short releases, which I am totally down with. The recent “Hope is For People,” is as a fine starting place; the title track is for sure on my year’s best shortlist. mixtapesohio will help get you hooked up with almost the whole enchilada. You’ll need to hit up Death to False Hope records to score the “Castle Songs” single (while you’re at DtFH, check out the Candy Hearts release, too). Most of Mixtapes’ releases are Creative Commons licensed, so you can download ‘em legit for free, then kick a donation to the band if you love their music like I do, and want more, more, more.

I’m tempted not even to mention that is sort of an indie/alt/electronic supergroup, founded by Cibo Matto’s Yuka Honda and That Dog’s Petra Haden, bolstered by Cornelius’ Hirotaka Shimizu and Yuko Araki, because If By Yes sounds nothing like the members’ best-known projects. It’s a far cry from the melodic alternarock of That Dog, the aural aggression of Cornelius, and the kitchen sink aesthetic of Cibo Matto. Those aren’t criticisms, just observations — I think Salt on Sea Glass deserves to be judged on its own terms, not saddled with expectations based on what its members used to do.

And I like much of it quite a bit, especially “You’re Something Else.”