There are just so many reasons in the world why I love my friend Chris so much. First, he is the coolest ex I've ever had the pleasure of still knowing. Second, he set up this bad ass website for me for free and maintains it for free. And third (but not finally, not by a long shot), he takes me to lots and lots of shows. Why? When asked, he simply replies, "Holly, when I don't have a girlfriend, I like to do things for you that I would do for a girlfriend." And that's good enough for me!

Point is, last Friday Chris took me out to the Granada in Lower Greenville to see the Jason Mraz/Liz Phair/Sondre Lerche show. And so, because I am me and I think you all care what I think, here's my three part review of that awesome/awful/awesome again night.

SONDRE LERCHE:
Say it with me now, kids: Son-dray Lair-kay. I was thrilled to see his crazy name on the bill for this show. This blond-haired, blue-eyed, enigmatic little Norwegian stole my heart while he set my foot a-tappin'. Amy (you wonderful little fountain of usefulness and awesomenimity) told me to check this guy out a few months ago, and after downloading a few things I've decided he's one of the better things out right now. Sondre combines a hauntingly classic vocal style with catchy guitar riffs to form something familiar and almost lounge-like. His new album, Faces Down, is in stores now and a definite must-buy.

I got the chance to speak to him briefly after his set and found out that Sondre is very sweet and sincere. He seemed genuinely happy to hear that I'd come out to see him, and not just Jason Mraz or Liz Phair. After a firm handshake and lots of thank you's (from both him and me), I walked away feeling as if I'd just talked with a friend I hadn't seen in years. Now I love him even more.

LIZ PHAIR:
I'm not even going to bother putting a link to her website on here. I feel retarded even trying to review her set. It was terrible. It was gawd-awful. It's level of sucktitude was so enormous, I almost jammed both my thumbs into my eyes just to take my mind off of the show. I couldn't decide which was worse: her stage presence (a stick figure holding a guitar and standing in one place) or the sound quality (what came through sounded like a couple of randy cats trying to screw each other to death).

I'm not at all familiar with the full scope of Liz Phair's work, and after Friday's show, I don't care to be. Her newest album, Liz Phair, was co-written by the same company who wrote all of Avril Lavigne's songs. And if that little tid-bit of info wasn't damning enough . . . With tracks like Extraordinary and Rock Me—which has such charming and cerebrally stimulating lyrics as "I wanna play XBox on your floor/Say hi to your roommate who's next door . . . Baby, baby, baby, if it's all right/Want you to rock me all night"—Liz Phair (both album and artist) shows us that no one is safe from the stresses of day to day rockstardom. I mean, how long can one person handle that kind of pressure before they finally crack and sell away their integrity? In Liz's case, about ten years.

Don't waste your time on this. It's cheap, boring, and it's already been done to death, reanimated, and then done to death again.

JASON MRAZ:
Now really good stuff. Think of every positive adjective you possibly can. Now think of every wonderful feeling your body has ever experienced (it's all right to get a little dirty with that one). Put all that goody-goodness into a blender, add ice, puree on high for two hours, and chug it 'till you pass out and that's what Jason's show was like on Friday. Wow! I mean, genuinely, wow!

Let me start off by saying that I've never been to performance in my life where the singer hit every single note every single time. Jason didn't hit a single bad note, not once. The energy was high, audience interaction was high, skill and confidence and presence were off the charts. Ably backed by his band of geniuses, Jason gave me and the rest of the theatre two hours of fun, emotion, and downright funktitude.

If you have no idea who Jason Mraz is, I suggest you click on his name up there (it's a link) and check out everything his website has to offer. For the sake of the world, do it; you won't regret it.

So, big humongozoid thanks to Chris—you're the best pretend boyfriend ever! And thanks to Jason and his band along with Mr. Lerche for giving me the best time I've had in years outside a Mexican brothel . . . er, um, I mean ice cream shoppe. Right. Ice cream. That's wholesome.

Uhhh . . . . . .

'Till next time, kids!
Holls

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