"Wah-Wah"

The Capitol Years and Friends cover George Harrison's "Wah-Wah" — fuckin' awesome!

The Teeth + Raccoon

Raccoon was a band. A Philadelphia band. Raccoon was Andrew, Scott, Toby, and Rory. These four are all great friends, and have been since high school. They were weirder when they were younger, but they are all still fairly weird. Toby and Scott are now making a wonderful life of it in Dr Dog. Rory and Andrew are desperately seeking broad commercial success in their new band Mitch Fiction and the Shits.

Raccoon recorded a debut full-length around 1998. Then they released an EP in 2000, entitled Strange Terrain, that was accompanied by a national tour (highlighted by meeting Park the Van honcho Chris Watson and his mates in the great band Frank Jordan). But Raccoon's crowning achievement came with the release of the Christmas City EP, a split with best buddies and musical compatriots The Teeth. It features 4 Raccoon songs, all undeniable classics. Grab these tunes. They are of historical significance in addition to their pleasing sonic attributes.

—Scribed by Andrew Jones

It's French For The Vagrant And Crazies

French, I don't know it but I have the mannerisms down to a fine detail, I know how to do the thing with the shoulders and the thing when they lean in closer to hear what your saying, as though they are trying to make sense of English, yet have to admit they don't speak it. I adore the French because of this and I have also learned that this tactic works well in New York. I use it for rude homeless people and subway weirdo’s. Hey give me a dollar, shoulders shrug, lean in closer, pull back then you say “France" with the proper tone. They usually start to make circular motions in their as a way to symbolize currency, or they pull money out and show it to you, in which case you should take the money in confusion. With the intention of giving back of course. The entire process takes all but eight seconds, and helpful if you live in an area with repeat offenders. (Repeat offenders: a person who is rude and ask for money everyday on your way to a location you frequent; like, work or home or a store).

However, there was one situation that stands out in my mind. To further explain, everyone assumes I'm gay, I don't care it doesn't bother me, after your mother calls you gay for four years you get use to it and you learn how to deal with weirdo’s on the train who try hitting on you. Overall, I'm on the train and I'm rocking out to some tunes and I notice there’s a guy sitting next to me, I am usually not alarmed when a guy is sitting next to me on a train, its public transportation, what can you expect? On the other-hand, when the train is empty and a guy sits next to me I do get alarmed, its not being homophobic, its an observation: what would encourage a person to sit next to a complete stranger on a train when there are roughly eighty-five other available seats?

Well he is also staring directly at me. I look at him and he starts talking, I still have my headphones on. The music is fuckin loud, he has to hear it. How do I know he hears it? Because, on a daily basis at least four times a day someone says "I'm surprised you’re not deaf. I take my ear phones off and I pull the "I'm French I don't understand", to this guy that meant he should speak louder and slower and maybe I would eventually decipher the English language as though I was some fuckin mythical creature born from the world and so happen to find my way on to a train in this case if I were a mythical creature that spoke all languages I don't think this man would be telling me anything I didn't know. So what was this man so desperately trying to tell me while he is under the assumption that I'm French? What’s so fuckin important, that this complete stranger had to bring me out of my own world? What pick up line could this man possibly have that would otherwise have me say “You know what I think I'm gay?

Drum roll please (dots represent drums).......................................... and the pick up line or means to start a conversation is: "You dropped your gum, this is your gum, it's sitting next to you do you want the gum?"

This is why I was interrupted, for a pack of gum sitting next to me, and this is when the French shrug technique is thrown out the window, and you throw on your T-bone from the block voice and say "MAN GET THAT GUM OUTTA MY FACE YOU CRAZY".

By guest blogger, Don Lowe

The Teeth + Rolling Stone

"THE TEETH FIGHT THEIR WAY TO INDIE ROCK SUCCESS"

Looks like those people over at Rolling Stone are starting to pick up on how much awesome is coming out of the Park the Van oven... yesterday the Teeth were a "Breaking Artist" on RollingStone.com. Thanks RS! Here's a little bit of what they said, more information, plus your chance to leave a comment (and talk some shit to people you don't know on the internet) after the jump...

“
Who Philadelphia quartet whose new album, You’re My Lover Now, seems to channel The Kinks, The Who, and some burnout folkie we’ve never heard of — all Brit-poppy harmonies, scrappy energy and weirdly endearing touches. The Teeth are fronted by twin brothers Peter and Aaron MoDavis, who formed The Teeth with two buddies after moving to Philly in 2001. “We were called the Pants,” Aaron says. “We just wanted a name that didn’t try to sound deep.” The Teeth have persevered through shitty shows and some not-so-great jobs, including a pizza and cheesesteak joint where three members still work. Nowadays, though, things are looking up for The Teeth: Lover has gotten strong reviews, and The Teeth recently toured with their buddies (and RS fave) Dr. Dog. “It’s going well,” Aaron says. “People are coming to shows all over the country, and we’re makin’ cash – a little at least.”

Brotherly Love As Lover shows, The Teeth are meticulous about crafting harmonies, melodies, chord changes and such. But sometimes their attention to detail leads to intra-band scrapes — both onstage and off. “I gave Aaron shit about this one chord change,” Peter Modavis says. “He flipped over a couch and I attacked him. We have a video where you can see his black eye.”

—Rolling Stone

”

Continue the article on RollingStone.com here

+ Rolling Stone, "The Teeth Fight Their Way To Indie-Rock Success" 20 June 2007 < http://www.rollingstone.com/rockdaily/index.php/2007/06/20/breaking-artist-the-teeth-fight-their-way-to-indie-rock-success >

FRANK JORDAN + PARK THE VAN

L-R: Devin Hurley, Mike Visser, Matt Ontjes | Photo by Marc Kallweit

Years before Park the Van Records existed I was introduced to a band called Frank Jordan. The three members of Frank Jordan (note: a band, not a man) remain as some of the greatest friends I will ever have, and truth be told, our history set the foundation for the label that I would start years down the line.

It started when I was living in Huntington Beach, CA in the late 90’s. A band that my company was working with was about to tour Europe with the Skatalites, and they were inbetween bass players at the time. Frank Jordan’s singer/principle songwriter (Mike Visser) signed up to play bass for the tour. I think his then-girlfriend was living in Germany. Before they left for tour, Mike handed me a copy of Decoy, a recently recorded Frank Jordan album, and this really changed everything for me.

Instantly I became a Frank Jordan fan. They were from Sacramento, about a half hour from Vacaville, CA where I was born and raised. I found myself booking Southern California shows for Frank Jordan as much as possible. They were explosive! As a three piece band they were the most entertaining and ballistic live band I could relate to. Most of the time they would end their set with a 5 to 10 minute long instrumental that would warp acid country music and late 70’s British Prog-Rock. It wasn’t what I was necessarily interested in, but it was undeniable. It always impressed.

My love for this band grew from a fan to a friend to an unofficial fourth member. I started booking small road trips throughout California and Arizona. Before I knew it, I was a self appointed booking agent, tour manager, and manager. The first tour was 8 weeks, followed by non-stop tours of 4-6 weeks for the next 3 years. We hit nearly every state in continental US. Without legal documentation we were all family. I could toil endlessly on this blog about everything we experienced—it was fucking crazy. It was these years that have really defined who I think I have become.

Frank Jordan never really gained the attention that I had always hoped. Looking back on it, part of me feels like it could be attributed to songs they wrote, multi-layered and dynamic songs, but not necessarily indie rock hits, and mostly because they were decorated with deeply personal and sometimes cryptic lyrics. Their skill was never in question, and their live show was always the most suitable way to be introduced to their style.

By 2004, their fan base was rapidly multiplying; the non-stop touring allowed Frank Jordan underground notoriety. We had licensed records to foreign territories, begun planning some international touring, performed with bands such as Grandaddy, Jimmy Eat World, Hella, the Paperchase, Mike Watt, Jason Lowenstein… and it was time to record the bands defining album. With help of Eddie Ashworth, whom Co-Produced/Engineered the bands last album Milk the Thrills, the band would record in Athens, OH. An album to be engineered by students at Ohio University under the guidance of Mr. Ashworth. Once again, Co-Produced by Eddie and Frank Jordan.

While the band did actually record this album, it was never finished. It was an incredibly difficult time for the three members of Frank Jordan. Personal debts had caught up with the band, all the hard work had yet to pay off. It wasn’t as easy to be optimistic anymore.
In the midst of this production, singer Mike Visser & Matt Ontjes inadvertently drove their 2001 Ford Econoline off a mountain road and into the brush. The van rolled several times and the band barely escaped alive. Pressure, emotions, and debt all stacked up. The band dissolved as they left the studio with an album unmixed. Frank Jordan died.

Reflecting back on the past… it was during one of Frank Jordan’s many cross country expeditions that we met the band that would one day become Dr. Dog, called Raccoon. We met the band (Andrew Jones, Rory Connell, Scott McMicken, and Toby Leaman) in Nebraska and immediately became friends. They were perhaps the greatest dudes we had met on tour. Their existence at the time paralleled Frank Jordan’s. It was easy to understand what made them as excited to be doing what we all doing. So we kept in touch. Eventually Raccoon quit performing, and Scott and Toby pulled Dr. Dog out of obscurity.

The first time Frank Jordan performed with Dr. Dog was the beginning of my idea to start a new label. Right after Dr. Dog’s set, Mike Visser phoned me to tell me he had just seen the greatest live band in the world. I was label managing Devil in the Woods records when this happened. I was living in New Orleans. I got in touch with Andrew Jones and requested a Dr. Dog cd. The moment I heard it I knew that this was time for a fresh start for everyone, and within several months, a new label was born.

The reason I’ve decided to tell you all of this is because I don’t want people to forget about Frank Jordan. I guess the appropriate thing to say would be, “I want you to know about Frank Jordan”. Most recently I’ve been in touch with Eddie Ashworth who is producing a record for a future Park the Van release from the Peekers. With the members of Frank Jordan advising, Eddie has mixed the entire “lost” Frank Jordan album, now titled OHIO. The album sounds better in 2007 than it did in 2004. By and large I think it’s much different compared to the Park the Van records I am used to. I hope you’ll love it as much as I am.



On July 14th Frank Jordan will play their first show in three years. Chances are, this is the last Frank Jordan show ever. To help make this night as special as it could be, both Dr. Dog and the Teeth will be performing with the band. The show takes place in Frank Jordan’s hometown of Sacramento, CA at Marilyn’s on K. We’re making 300 copies of this last Frank Jordan album too, which I can’t say enough about. It’s such a great rock record. Check out the song “Guessless”, which contains one of my favorite FJ lyrics of all time… “you love to say that I is the only word I know/but you’re only happy when I’m catering my U”.

Thanks for reading.
Chris from PTV

"Guessless" from Ohio: FJ_Guessless.mp3
For more information visit: http://www.myspace.com/frankjordan

The High Strung: Detroit to Seattle

Detroit, MI to Seattle, WA. Here’s the set up, it was a 4-day drive, and Derek has 25 days worth of music on his Itunes. Derek and I drove the stuff to the west coast, and Josh flew on the day of the show to meet up with us. Music, comedy and movies were an integral part of the drive. Movies take up a huge chunk of time in an alternate reality, so that’s helpful when you have 44 hours of driving to kill. But the music was just as good, especially for whoever is driving, I mean, it’s tough to watch a movie and drive at the same time. So here’s a little run down of the more memorable music moments in the drive.



First off, I realized a while ago, maybe three years ago that the very best music for driving is Hank Williams Sr. Something about that tic tack bass rhythm, you can guess it was a way to get that train track feel, and it works for tour vans too. So with that in mind, I became a Son Volt fan after doing 17 shows with them. Jay’s voice is one of the most beautiful voices I’ve ever heard, and he’s got some gem songs out there, especially when driving. So Derek and I listened to the song “windfall” off of their first album, Trace about 8 times on the way. It’s a mid-tempo country tune about driving. But the kind of driving you might do with the windows down, and a pair of sunglasses. I’ve played out Hank Williams, and my Best of Bluegrass tape was nowhere to be found for this trip. So we discovered a New Riders of the Purple Sage album. A couple of great tunes on that thing too. I’m a sucker for anything Jerry Garcia, and he’s the featured pedal steal player on some of those early N.R.o.t.P.S. albums.



One sequence of music we listened to started in the morning. First thing is, we slept in the truck somewhere in the southern Minnesota stretch of I-90. In the morning we cleaned up the mess in the truck and ended up finding a small one-hitter with year old pot resin caked in it. It was our friend Jeff’s pipe that I remember him losing last summer when he was on the road with us. So it’s funny, we’ve been driving around for a year with that in our truck. Anyway, Derek thought it’d be nice sometime in the drive to hit the resin, and then we’d ditch the pipe. This morning I started driving. I wanted to hear some high plains music, something like Bonnie Prince Billy, I dunno, I thought it’d be nice for that stretch of South Dakota coming up. We didn’t have any, and Derek made fun of me for wanting to hear that! He made a snoring sound, and went to sleep himself in the loft of the van. So I found Elliot Smith’s Either/Or. I love Elliot Smith, but in our truck you can’t hear the delicacy of his guitar playing, and in headphones there’s maybe nothing I wanna hear more than that lo-fi quality of his recordings, but in the truck everything one likes about Elliot Smith is lost over the roar of the diesel. I had to turn it off. So I put on The Bends by Radiohead. Of course it was good, but it didn’t feel right. I wanna hear something more organic sounding when I’m driving through Indian reservations, through badlands, etc…



Finally I found that if I wrote the name of a band in the search section of I-tunes, I could shuffle all their material without interference. So I popped in the Grateful Dead. I mean it should have been a no-brainer; this is when they are perfect. The Dead are one of those bands that when it’s the three of us, we all feel right at home with. We each have our personal tastes, but the Dead is one we all can get along with and really enjoy. So Derek and I shuffled through 7 of their albums. Aoxomoxoa, Blues For Allah, Dick’s Picks Vol. 3(disc 2 only), Mason’s Children (a non-official collection of early material), Two From The Vault, Wake of The Flood, and Workingman’s dead.

Derek decides he wants to smoke the grass now the Dead has locked into our mentality. It’s the natural order of things. BUT!!!! He can’t find where he hid the pipe. The music was amazing; we heard their albums, their live material, every type of Grateful Dead one can enjoy. The early material from Mason’s Children, songs like “Mason’s Children” and “Stealin’”sound like garage rock. Then you get into some 70s stuff that doesn’t sound as cool, but the songs are great, and groovy. Workingman’s Dead is such a great album. It’s got the country I needed, and the quality of the recordings is so real. I think if you cut into an old oak tree, and put a needle from a record player in it, you’d hear this album. Gorgeous. Now the live stuff is good because it lasts forever. I think for most people, that’s the reason they hate the Grateful Dead. But if you pay attention to every instrument, within those jams, it’s more fun. And what else do you have to do while you drive, right? You’ll begin to notice how weird Bob Weir’s guitar playing is; it’s like idiot savant guitar. What can I say, I’m a Deadhead, I’ve seen 10 shows in my life, and I have a picture of Jerry taped to my overdrive pedal! By the way, I hate that the super hipster haircut magazine, The Fader, who refuses every time we have a new record out to review it, has put Jerry on the June issue’s cover. I don’t want hipsters to start liking the Dead. They are my band, and I don’t want some fucking cocaine snorting, tight pants haircut asshole thinking he’s on top of this trend of liking the Grateful Dead. Fader can have Mos Def and Death Cab for Sleepy, but don’t go around bastardizing a truly good band. They probably don’t even talk about the band, just him, and what kind of heroin he used to do.

So a couple of hours later, I’m still driving, and we get rolled by the fuzz. Fuckin’ A. Man, we NEVER travel with drugs, no pipes, no stuff, nothing. Once in a while I might have a beer in the back seat, that’s about as illegal as we get. But Derek and I found that fuckin’ pipe, and Derek can’t remember where he hid it. The cops say we had a light out---it’s all bullshit. They give us a warning about the light, and then take me into the car. I’m shootin’ the shit with him, talking about his satellite radio, the band, whatever. But then his dog in the backseat moves a bit. I looked at the pooch, and the cop’s like

“I’m gonna send the dog around the vehicle in a minute here, you got anything illegal, drugs or weapons?”

“No sir.”

“Pipes or paraphernalia?”

“No sir, not that I know of?” I’m freakin’ out, for the first time in a long time, I’m lying to a cop about this sort of shit. He says,

“That’s not what I like to hear, that usually means you got something.”

What a fuckin’ prick. Of course the dog smells something, they always do, and after two more cops drive up they begin to search the entire truck. After looking at every stomp box and bag full of gear, clothes and boxes of CDs, they found nothing. They couldn’t even find that pipe. He pulled out a pillbox full of Aleve, and did a quick check in his mobile drug lab. Nothing. They didn’t find my three Valium that my ex-girlfriend gave me, and didn’t give a shit about the pocketknife in the front seat, and best of all couldn’t find the pipe. Fuckheads!

After we loaded all our gear back into the truck we went to Wall Drug, but it was closed. I wanted a drink at the saloon there, but we didn’t have any drinks on the whole trip, not even when we stopped into a bar in Bozeman, MT to watch the Detroit Pistons lose another game.



That night, we listened to David Cross’s Comedy Central Present’s. It was great, he did a bit about Jesus having an effeminate southern accent, which was particularly memorable. And we were on the comedy tip, so we heard a “best of” of Bill Hicks. He was great also. Comedy is about second on the list of what to hear while driving. Usually the last thing I wanna hear is more rock and roll, just because we hear a lot of it. The only problem with comedy is the crowd is usually too loud, poor recordings. I think the third thing I like to listen to in the truck while driving is classical, it’s easy to hear, usually recorded extremely well, and no distorted guitars.

Derek and I spent the night at the foot of the national monument, Devils Tower, in the Northeast edge of Wyoming. In the morning, we did the mile hike around it. After that we drove. We took a listen to this Television live album, from 1992, that we got when we played with Richard Lloyd a couple of months ago. For as fucked up and ridiculous he was that night, the ’92 recording was really good. He remains an amazing guitar player and he’s only gotten better. He took a nitrous hit out of a whipped-cream container, and offered Derek singing lessons! Ha! On the live album, there were songs not on either of their studio records that I’m excited to get into.



We tried to have a block of Neil Young, Derek really wanted to hear that. You know he’s all about the American Indians, and driving through Dakota and Wyoming yer right there. We drove through a lot of reservations and stopped at a lot of outposts. The Neil Young disc that he imported into the computer has some serious skips on it, so most of the material we couldn’t listen to. The album I wish I had was Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere. Fucking beautiful.



We don’t usually pop in the Beatles, not that we don’t like it, but you hear it wherever you go. I guess Derek was feeling inspired, and he played Abbey Road. It sounded great. But something happened to his jukebox and we didn’t hear the song “Her Majesty.”



The last thing I’ll talk about is our last day stretch into Seattle. I thought I’d be fun to do a Seattle mix. So we did a shuffled playlist of Nirvana, Built To Spill, and Jimi Hendrix. I gotta say, I agree with Steve Albini, I don’t like the way In Utero sounds either. I love the songs either way and the other recordings sounded great. He didn’t have Incesticide. I love that one. The Built To Spill album, Keep It Like A Secret is great sounding record too. I love the way his voice sounds, which sounds like that live, no effects. All the guitars and drums sound big and full, and his songs kick ass. Doug Marsch has a colorful way of expressing himself. Yet nothing can really compare to hearing any of Jimi Hendrix’s material. It wasn’t fair to Nirvana or Built To Spill! We heard some live shit from Monterrey Pop Festival, and Axis: Bold As Love. What if 6 was 9? (It was after 4 days of straight driving…!)

—as scribed by Chad Stocker of The High Strung

The Teeth!

Aside from this being the first short length Teeth Music Video, this is also the first time I have ever been terrified of an effort to censor a song. Turn this motherfucker up real loud and watch. It's a perfect rock song and this video is awesome. Be sure to watch it all the way through to the end to witness Brian Ashby's encounter with the supernatural. Splendid!



This video is currently my favorite Teeth video. It's sad and sexy. That's what I told Peter when I first saw it, and I think he agrees. Ryan Cannava and the CPA deliver a simple concept done right. The result is a very stylized video which deserves keen attention to details.



See the Teeth live the next chance you get. Steal a car. Cash in your airline miles. Jump a train. Build a rocket. Whatever it takes. This band makes the live rock show everything it should be. I never miss a Teeth show if I can help it. Thanks to Richard for capturing this moment in time and putting it up on YouTube. Please do this again!



When I was a child, there was still some mystery as to what took out the dinosaurs. These days there really isn't a mystery. Except for why this haunting claymation dinosaur footage works so well with this song. This is the last track on the new Teeth album "You're My Lover Now". Instantly both eerie and charming. Poor dinosaurs.