R5: We sold out in 35 seconds. No not because of scalpers or some weird hack or secondary market seller. It’s because lots of people wanted to goto the show (obviously). There was no crash or error. Literally thousands of people attempted to purchase tickets right at 12pm. We apologize to those who didnt get tickets and congratulate those who did. No promises but we are working on a potential second show and will keep everyone updated. We’ll try our best !
RELATED: I felt fortunate to be one of the 100-or-so people to see Jeff Mangum play his intimate set last night, but it was also unfortunate that I got there after the opening band, Forma, who I’ll definitely catch at Tandem this Saturday December 11. Hair a little longer and dressed in signature red flannel, Mangum played a 10 song set of Neutral Milk Hotel songs. The audience sat on the Schoolhouse’s hardwood floor cross-legged, quietly mouthing the words of Mangum’s lecture. Perched beside a music stand with a revolving cast of three acoustic guitars, he constantly traded instruments, sometimes in mid-song while sounding an entrancing, malismatic bleat. It was endearing to see Mangum go from having this powerful, raw, emotional presence while performing, and then between songs, change his composure and become meek and incredibly gracious for the opportunity to perform. It felt like this event was just as special to him as it was to his admirers. MORE
NEUTRAL MILK HOTEL — In the Aeroplane Over The Sea
The torch has been passed to a new generation, may it serve them well. Originally released in 1998, Neutral Milk Hotel’s trippy-sad paen to Ann Frank — a little girl who hid in the walls from the Nazis that would eventually kill her, who still believed “despite everything, people rally are good at heart” – has gone on to achieve stone cold classic status. Jeff Mangum’s mewling sunshine Superman melodies are colored by bare, ruined choirs of singing saw, fuzz bass, mariachi horns, bowed banjo, accordion, home organ and Salvation Army marching band brass. These harrowing, heart-tugging tunes follow Mangum’s fractured yelp, soaring on wax wings toward the sun only to land softly on a surrealistic pillow of sound fashioned out of enough obscure instrumentation to give your average ethnomusicologist a Viagra woody – zanzithophone, euphonium, uilleann pipes and a shortwave radio. All these years later it still sounds like nothing less than mercy itself. Like Amelia Earhart, Magnum and co. were never heard from again, but like Jack with his magic beans, Neutral Milk Hotel proved that with little more than a pocketful of seeds and stems, you could grow a beanstalk to heaven. – JONATHAN VALANIA