By Courtney Harrell
By Kyra Scrimgeour
By Jena Ardell
By Mary Willson
By Bree Davies
By Tom Murphy
By Tom Murphy
By A.H. Goldstein
Thank God for MySpace. If it weren't for MySpace, I know some people who wouldn't have any friends. At all. That's not just a witty T-shirt slogan; it's gospel. MySpace can be more than a little soul-sucking: I've seen it consume lives, World of Warcraft style. But as nefarious as it can be, it has undeniable upsides. Foremost, it's a wellspring of untapped talent -- and I'm not talking about trolling for trollops (although, come to think of it, some of my more scandalous homeboys would probably never get laid if it weren't for MySpace). There's an infinite amount of mind-blowing music just waiting to be found.
Of course, there's also no filter. To find the good stuff, you have to sort through endless streams of shit, most of which could test the gag reflexes of a Roto-Rooter man. Nonetheless, the baby is worth the labor. Hell, that's how I found many of the acts who've blown my skirt up this year.
Ultimately, as loath as I was to join the cult, I have to admit that MySpace has revolutionized the way I experience music. In the past, I'd go to shows blindly, not knowing what to expect or how I'd react; these days, I know exactly what I'm in for, having had the chance to familiarize myself with the music and the story long before I ever take it in live. The best part is that I've even been able to witness the songwriting process unfold organically and hear the music progress in real time, with artists blogging and posting their material in its working stages. Because of how turnkey the whole thing is, anyone can establish a page and post his innermost thoughts instantaneously, for better or worse, without needing to have some high-priced web designer on retainer. As a result, an entirely new level of intimacy has been forged with the listener.
And that's the cool thing about MySpace: I've had the chance to become invested in the artists, the music and their stories, to become a bona fide fan before I've even seen some of them live. That was the case with the Brotherhood of Dae Han, the subject of this week's profile. When I first heard the group's songs through my $10 computer speakers, I about spit out my dentures. I couldn't believe these cats were local and that I hadn't seen them yet or heard anyone talking about them. If the songs sounded that good on those cheap speakers, I could only imagine how great they would sound live or on a real stereo.
More recently, I had a similar experience with the Widowers, an outfit that I'm completely smitten with at the moment but that has yet to play a single show. At the urging of one of my buddies, someone whose ear I trust as much as my own, I checked out their page. I was stunned by what I heard: intricately crafted, densely layered psych-pop. Imagine Dungen, only with words that are sung in English, that you can actually understand and sing along to. Astounded, I reached out to Mike Marchant, the Widowers' guiding force, and grilled him for the details: How long had the Widowers been together, had they put anything out, and when would they start playing live?
Marchant told me that the group, which features members of Constellations and Women Gathering Gems, began as his solo project and had grown into a full-fledged band. At the time of our first exchange, the Widowers (myspace.com/widowersmusic) were in the midst of recording a six-song EP, which they're now mixing. Once they begin playing live -- which will most likely be by the end of May, at the hi-dive -- there's little doubt that the act will quickly rise to prominence.
For every upside, though, invariably there's a downside. In this case, I fear that MySpace might be killing off the underground. There are no closely guarded secrets anymore. The very thing that draws me to MySpace could be taking away from the music's mystique. In the past, bands like the Widowers or the Brotherhood of Dae Han might've been enjoyed by an isolated group of acolytes before reaching critical mass; now the bands arrive fully formed, with a fan base that grows exponentially with each show. But people get burned out just as quickly and move on to the next thing. It's a vicious cycle.
Fortunately, the good stuff sticks. At least it has for me. As voracious as my appetite is for new music, I keep coming back to the ones who have moved me. And that list just keeps getting longer and longer. This past March, when I was in Austin for SXSW, I was comparing notes with my counterpart from St. Louis regarding our respective scenes. I ran through the short list of the Denver bands I was excited about, and before I knew it, I had more than sixty. Sixty freaking bands! All worth my time -- and yours.
And that's only a fraction of the musicians we have in this town: Last week I compiled a tickler/reference sheet for members of the Westword Music Showcase nominating committee, listing all the groups I could think of off the top of my head. I came up with more than 500 acts, and of those, I've probably only seen about half. You know what that means, right?