Today's CP features a short version of an interview I did last week with Rhydian Dafydd of The Joy Formidable. Here's a less-abridged version. The band, which recently released its first full-length, The Big Roar, plays the Smiling Moose on Wednesday, April 27.

The Big Roar has a very big sound. How do you approach rendering your music live as a three-piece?

We're very committed to both disciplines, and we don't necessarily see them as having to work completely in tandem. I think it's nice to go and see an act live and have a bit of a spin on what you've heard on record. We don't concern ourselves too much about that as long as the songs are delivered well and the soul and the story is always there. We've toured very hard, so we've picked up that kind of intuition along the way that you really desire in a band, that chemistry. Without getting too technical about it, there's things where, for instance, Ritzy might go high on the guitar and I fill the space underneath, all these little – not saying "tricks," but things you've got when you've got that great chemistry in a band.

We don't worry necessarily about replicating the record – it would feel a bit strange, especially at this point, to bring somebody in and just fill out the sounds. It's more about what you're trying to convey – are the songs coming across?

You have some songs that are quiet, almost ambient, and some that are huge and almost have a punk backbeat. What do you look at as being the elements that tie everything together?
The soul, the story, the voice, the theme of the album – it's very powerful, emotive. It deals with a lot of personal circumstances, difficulties, and it's very open, it's not insular. That's the thread. I think lyrics and story to us is really important. The style, the genre is completely separate; it depends on what you're trying to get across.

Would you call it a concept album?
I certainly wouldn't say it's a concept album, no. But it's about difficulties, past and present, and the great stories – love, the difficulties with love, mental illness, the quest for optimism in difficult circumstances. Those are big stories that don't just concern our own lives, and that's why it's open as well. It's not self-indulgent, but it's open to different experiences. It's been a real cathartic record in that sense – it's touched on frustrations maybe more than A Balloon Called Moaning.

Who writes the lyrics?
It varies. It's mainly Ritzy, but it depends on the song, really. Ritzy sings most of the tracks, so I think that ultimately has to come from her. We always bounce ideas around and shape and make sense of a song together. But on this album it's been mainly Ritzy.

She brings out some big words that you don't usually hear in rock ‘n' roll – there's almost a literary sense to the songs.
For sure. Big readers, Ritzy especially, always have been. That's why lyrics have been a big part of this project. She grew up listening to the greats – Van Morrison, Springsteen, it all had that kind of intellectualism. Yet it wasn't insular. That's had a big effect on this band. We all jam with poetry and the natural beats your born with, and I think it's nice to mix that in, a very visceral, raw element of the band.

What's the origin of the band name?
That's always a tricky one. It wasn't too thought-out. It was words that seemed to spring to mind. Some words, some symbolism, some imagery that was ultimately really a gut instinct. I think that's where the best names come from. On paper, it doesn't really make sense, but it kind of does – those are the things that we enjoy. If anything, it's about the duality – that play between joy and frustration, difficulties and optimism. Those are constant themes we write about unconsciously. But we don't analyze it too much.

On your website, you've been doing a thing where you pick up a souvenir on tour in a certain city and do a giveaway for fans. Where did that idea come from?
I think it's just nice to keep your family involved – we've got a loyal fan base, and that's what your chasing after. You've got to keep people on their toes, and keep that connection going, and have fun with it. It's nothing more than that. It's a nice way to document the tour. It's very special for us to be in the States for so long, and it's nice to give something back to the people who are constantly coming to the shows.

Anything particularly interesting or strange that you picked up and gave away?
Oh, yeah – the last one, which was a musical bottle-stopper. Oh my God, the shop we got that from, in Albany. The guy, Steve, came to a show and invited us back to his store after the gig, and I've never seen that amount of beautiful vintage stuff. We managed to buy a couple of things. We could've stayed there for a good week, I think. It was an amazing shop.

If you run into someone who's never heard you, say at a gas station or something, how do you describe your music?
We actually are asked that quite a bit, and it is really difficult. If it's putting it down to genres, I do feel like it's difficult. It's kind of secondary; the song is the most important thing, and what you're singing about. We're certainly very committed – and I think when you see it live, people can see it as very black-and-white – I wouldn't say that it's [just] loud, but when it is loud it's very loud. But it's very fragile. It's a very broad spectrum; I find it hard to describe. I guess I'd say, come and see the band.

So yesterday, Mayor Luke Ravenstahl held a press conference with Allegheny County Controller Mark Patrick Flaherty to announce that, yes, the city and the county will be consolidating their financial-management systems.

I'll just pause so you can reflect on the historic nature of this moment.

Did that sound snarky? I apologize. Truth to tell, this is a good thing. Consolidation has been held up by disputes over the release of state gaming revenue to help pay for it. And when the new system is released -- which should happen by early next summer -- it may save money and even make city finances a bit more transparent.

Some in government have, in fact, speculated this is the real reason for the delay. That seems snarky even to me, but political considerations are clearly on people's minds these days. Flaherty is, after all, running for county executive, and I'm told by our very own Lauren Daley that at yesterday's press conference, Ravenstahl was asked whether his appearance constituted a show of support for Flaherty. Ravenstahl said he was staying out of that fray. 

As interesting as who was on hand for the signing, was who was not. County exec Dan Onorato -- once Batman to Ravenstahl's Boy Wonder -- wasn't there. (Perhaps not coincidentally, he's backing Flaherty's county exec rival, Rich Fitzgerald.) Also conspicuous in his absence was Flaherty's Pittsburgh counterpart, city controller Michael Lamb. Lamb would, after all, be administering the system on a daily basis once it becomes effective in 2012.

Lamb did send out a statement of his own at 1:40 p.m. yesterday -- minutes after Ravenstahl's presser began. See if you don't detect a little passive-aggression here:

The City Controller’s office has been working with Allegheny County for the past 3 years on a joint financial management system. Joining with Allegheny County will save City taxpayers millions, and will make City government more transparent, effective and efficient. I am glad to see that the City’s administration is finally on board with this proposal and that this project is finally moving forward. The City Controller’s office looks forward to a smooth and successful implementation.

Of course, as Ravenstahl pointed out at the event, there was no need for Lamb, or other city officials to be there -- city council had previously agreed to the consolidation, as had their counterparts at the county level.

On the other hand, as I've noted previously, while Lamb is running uncontested for another stint as city controller this spring, he sounds a hell of a lot like somebody gearing up for a mayoral run in 2013. And it could be that Ravenstahl is, as I suggested in January, watching his back.

Speaking of the political landscape, some endorsements to bring you up to speed on:

Within the next day, the Sierra Club's Allegheny Chapter will be formally announcing two endorsements in city council races. The environmental group is backing Patrick Dowd in District 7, and city council president Darlene Harris in District 1. (The group has previously backed incumbent Bruce Kraus in city council district 3, and Lucille Prater-Holliday, one of two challengers running in district 9.)

In recent days, Dowd has also picked up another endorsement from the anti-smoke crowd: the Pittsburgh firefighters union has backed him. That makes Dowd a bit of an outlier: Not only did Dowd oppose a parking-lease program backed by the union as a way to keep its pension fund solvent, but the firefighters have mostly supported mayoral-backed candidates. In district 1, the union backs Harris challenger Vince Pallus; in district 3 it supports former councilor/current challenger Jeff Koch against Kraus, Corey O'Connor in district 5, and Ricky Burgess in district 9.

Dowd wasn't quite so lucky with Democracy for Pittsburgh, a local outgrowth of Howard Dean's Democracy for America insurgency, gets behind the council members most likely to drive Ravenstahl crazy. The group backs Harris in District 1, Kraus in District 3, Chris Zurawsky in District 5, and Prater-Holliday in District 9. The group made no endorsement in the Dowd/Tony Ceoffe Jr. match-up in district 7; an endorsement requires a 70 percent supermajority. 

To me, that suggests some flagging support in some progressive quarters. But on balance, you'd have to say Dowd is having a pretty good run here.

Good morning Pittsburgh! What's that smell in the air? Is it the blooming flowers, the damp stench of spring rain, or all the college students who have abandoned showering in the interest of studying for finals? Although all three scents are currently permeating the air, I'm referring to the sweet smell of an enticing new MP3.

Our MP3 this week is from Sistered's newly released album, New Sky. They're a metal/rock band based right here in good old Pittsburgh. The title track (download it here) starts off with a slow, teasing melody, follows its intro with a ballad-worthy instrumental work which politely introduces the song's lyrics and harder guitar riffs. If you like Sistered, there's more where that came from. Check out Patrick Bowman's recent feature on the band. Happy listening!

We'll get to your MP3 Monday in a bit, but first: There's this band, The Decemberists. You've heard of them. You probably know them. You might want to go see them play on Thursday at the Benedum. Well, we might just have you covered.

We have, in our hands at our disposal, right now, a pair of tickets to the show, and we are prepared to GIVE THEM AWAY. That's right. For free. Alls you have to do: post a comment on this blog post letting us know what your favorite Decemberists video is. (They're all available here, if you need a refresher course.)

At 5:00, we'll take a look at all the comments, and one commenter will be picked at random for the pair of tickets. Please use your actual email when you comment, so that we can get in touch with you!

Apparently, Bassnectar is anti-glowstick, which is a little bit anti-rave-cliché, and that worked, because this show felt very much more like a concert than a rave. It could be argued that it was a cross between the two, as elements of electro leaked over into elements of rock 'n' roll. But even the way his set was structured made it feel like a rock concert, as there were almost distinct breaks between "songs," not a feeling one gets when seeing a DJ mix live. He moved from one hip-hop infused metalhead remix to another and the visuals looping on the massive screens that surrounded his mixing table went from orange lasers and magic eye tricks to black and white video montage of burlesque dancers from the 20's and strange footage of Native Americans on grainy film.

Notable samples included a Depeche Mode track that was accompanied by visuals of pink cartoon elephants reminiscent of Heffalumps and Woozles. He also dropped Helmet's "In the Meantime," or rather, the raunchy guitar riff that makes that song awesome, and looped it into some hip-hop per his normal remix recipe. He played "Bass Head" and the crowd went dutifully wild, and for the send off he sampled a Gorillaz song, because every rock show has an encore.

It was a trifecta of metal, hip-hop and electro; there were brief moments where he pushes the audience somewhere outside of his brostep norms but then brings them right back with a Lil' Wayne sample. Bassnectar live appealed to those who love accessible metal and grimy hip-hop and have an insatiable need for monstrous bass.

A few weeks back, I posted a couple of videos from local rap/rock band Formula412. The five-piece -- guitar, bass, keys, drums and vocals -- is releasing its second full-length, Reality Show, tomorrow night at Mr. Small's Theater in Millvale.

Reality Show is an aggressive mix of politically conscious lyrics, Pittsburgh namechecking, and tight rock beats; smooth but not too polished, Formula412 bridges the gap between the swagger of mainstream rap and the refined lyricism of indie hip hop. Stream the album here; check out info on tickets here.

Surely one of the things Quantum Theatre's audiences appreciate most is the urban-egg-hunt aspect of following the nomadic company's productions to offbeat spaces around town.

Quantum is of course the company that by the design of founder and artistic director Karla Boos stages only site-specific work, invariably in nontraditional performances spaces. Most notable, perhaps, there have been parks, a cemetery, a drained and long-unused public swimming pool, and a numberless succession of cavernous, vacated warehouses. Quantum's been at it for 20 years.

The latest venue is the old East Liberty Y. Though located right in the heart of that rejuvenating neighborhood -- and right across from the grand East Liberty Presbyterian Church, next to the Carnegie Library and nearby a growing roster of good restaurants -- the century-old building has stood empty for years.

Lots of dust and peeled paint aside, it's still a pretty solid old pile. Just a few years ago, in fact, there was a scheme to turn it into luxury condos.

But if it's got to be empty, it's hard to imagine a better temporary use than Quantum's production of Maria de Buenos Aires, a "tango operita" by Astor Piazzolla. The building's aura of ruined neoclassicality seems ideal for the opera's surreal narrative about a prostitute's hard life, death, sojourn in the afterlife and rebirth.

The story is on the mythic side and a bit difficult to follow. (It's entirely sung and spoken in Spanish, only some of which is translated vocally or by video projections.) But the music, played by a live orchestra, is gorgeous, and what dialogue and lyrics we do catch are often evocative. ("The hearse was pulled by 12 Judases and driven by a small drunken Christ.")

Quantum has even turned the performance space -- which looks like it might have been the Y's small auditorium or banquet hall -- into a cabaret, the multi-runway stage surrounded by small café tables bolted into the floor.

With the music and the darkly redemptive action on stage (including dancing choreographed and performed by Attack Theatre), it's a different little world right in the middle of the world you thought you knew.

Maria de Buenos Aires continues with four more performances through Sun., April 17 (including two the evening of Sat., April 16). www.quantumtheatre.org

Whatever else Paul Ryan's throw-grandma-from-the-train budget proposal accomplishes, it may put our very own Tim Murphy on the spot.

As this space has documented before, the talented Mr. Murphy has a gift for justifying extremist votes with moderate-sounding rhetoric. But a recent Politico story suggests Murphy may beamong a number of GOP reps uncomfortable with Ryan's budget proposals -- which would essentially privatize Medicare and cut Medicaid while offering yet another tax cut  for the wealthy.

Murphy's sprawling 18th district encompasses constituencies on both sides of that proposal. On the one hand, it includes prosperous suburbs like Upper St. Clair, Mt. Lebanon and Peters Township -- voters who would benefit from further tax cuts. On the other hand, Politico notes, more than one resident in seven is over the age of 65. Ryan's plan pledges not to affect any of today's seniors, but elderly voters tend to be unimpressed by such promises. 

So perhaps it's little surprise that when Politico contacted Murphy about the merits of Ryan's proposal, his office hedged: 

Susan Mosychuk, Murphy’s chief of staff, said it’s a "high-profile vote" that they are "still taking a look at."

Murphy surely wouldn't be the only rep to feel a bit skitish: Ryan has admitted that Democrats could hammer Republicans who took on the popular Medicare (a program that George W. Bush expanded on with a massive drug benefit, by the way). As the Politico piece notes, "Privately, rank-and-file offices on Capitol Hill are whispering that the Republican leadership is asking its members to take a tough vote on a bill that has no chance of becoming law -- Ryan’s budget is dead on arrival in the Senate, still ruled by Democrats."

Still, it's instructive to compare the tepid response from Murphy's office to, say, that of freshman Rep. Mike Kelly, who hails from Erie and told Politico:

"I think it's more thoughtful than anything I’ve ever seen. It's more realistic, and it makes common sense to folks. They know they’re on an unsustainable path with the deficit. I think the congressman's effort is well taken."

His office, meanwhile, has also issued an equally unequivocal statement of support.

And here's Pat Meehan, another GOP rep from Pennsylvania:

"I intend to support [the Ryan budget]. I see it as a framework that will begin a debate on the important issue of how we deal with the long-term unsustainability of our spending. It begins to lay out a framework. I agree with parts of it; there are parts I’m concerned about."

Where will Murphy fall in this debate? We shouldn't have long to find out: a vote on the Ryan budget is slated for Friday. In the meantime, a couple days ago Murphy soliciting feedback from voters. And it's worth noting how his online survey frames question.

Here, for example, is how he describes the changes to Medicare: 

The Ryan proposal does not make any changes to Medicare for people 55 and older. In an attempt to institute a framework for long-term Medicare sustainability for citizens age 55 and younger, the Ryan budget plan would provide premium support so individuals could purchase a Medicare-approved insurance policy. Similar to the way that the Medicare prescription drug benefit is administered, this new premium-support program would be adjusted so wealthier beneficiaries would receive lower subsidies while the sick and low-income seniors would receive greater support. Starting in 2022, Medicare eligibility would increase by two months per year until it reaches 67 in 2033. Do you support making the Ryan reforms to Medicare?

Not surprisingly, the word "privatization" doesn't appear here, though that's what the program amounts to. Murphy also doesn't note that the "premium support" would be capped -- and that the caps are all but certain to trail inflationary increases in healthcare costs. 

Similarly, here's how Murphy is describing changes to Medicaid:

The Ryan House budget proposal increases Medicaid spending on a year-by-year basis, but reduces the rate of growth of the program. In addition, the plan would allocate money directly to states and allow flexibility to structure Medicaid in a way that best meets the state needs. Do you support changing the Medicaid system by slowing the growth of the program and allocating funds directly to states? 

The proposal amounts to offering "block grants" to states -- and here too there is widespread concern that these year-to-year increases will lag healthcare inflation. (And you sort of have to wonder, is this really a place where states need "flexibility"? Don't people in Pennsylvania need the same treatment for, say, prostate cancer that folks in Ohio do?)

But hey, who is gonna disagree with the idea of offering "flexibilty" -- or "slowing the growth" of the Medicaid system? I'd almost vote for that myself, especially if I only had a couple days to think about it.

The North Side-based photographer's gorgeous series of portraits of people with 50 years or more at the same job is turning into her life's work, at least part-time.

O'Neill was working for the Detroit News in 1995 when she was assigned to photograph a family. The father was a barber. "I found out he was 92 ... He honestly didn't look like he was over 65," says O'Neill. "He talked about how work was really important to him."

Over the 16 years since -- including her 12-year stint as an award-winning staffer at the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette -- O'Neill has plugged away with her medium-format camera. She's captured people from every walk of life, from artists like Frank Mason (pictured) to manual laborers.

This collection of 18 large-scale black-and-white portraits is on exhibit at Filmmakers through this weekend.

There's the late Umberto Buccigrossi, the late Bloomfield shoemaker she shot years ago for the P-G, captured in a beatific moment. ("You make me feel like a king," he told her as she lugged her lights and camera into his shop.)

Among the more recent shoots was Dick LeBeau (pictured), the Steelers coach whom O'Neill learned has over a half-century of service in the National Football League. 

Some portraits were made far away, like the one of an indigenous basket-weaver on Nunavak Island, in the Bering Sea, whom O'Neill caught laughing uproariously as the wind catches her big scarf.

Nearer to home is Dorsal Bibbee, a grave-digger from Tuppers Plains, Ohio, who still works with a shovel. O'Neill shot him by a freshly dug grave so we can see the hole's plum-straight sides, as flat-planed as if hewn by machine.

Filmmakers' galleries also feature Uniformity, an exhibit of smaller color photos of people -- mostly Pittsburghers -- who wear uniforms, from road crews and nuns to a tagger and a street performer.

That show is charming, but odds are it's Work in Progress where you'll linger. O'Neill credits her subjects' personalities: "They all had a real strong sense of purpose and a real vitality to them."

They also, perhaps not surprisingly, tend to think poorly of retirement.

Take Barbara Luderowski, a near-neighbor of O'Neill's whom she was inspired to photograph close-up, at eye level -- and from behind, emphasizing the Mattress Factory Art Museum founder's distinctive silhouette of short silver hair.

Luderowski "thinks retirement is just ridiculous -- something somebody made up," says O'Neill.

Then there's Arthur Winston, who spent 72 years as a Los Angeles transit employee, then died weeks after retiring ... at age 100.

O'Neill makes her living primarily by shooting for local magazines and nonprofits; she photographs weddings, too. She says her own attitude toward work was forged growing up in Long Island, as one of 10 kids whose parents owned a deli. Her dad, she recalls, was unhappy in retirement.

"I can't imagine myself retiring," says O'Neill. "I want to do it forever. I want to be a 50-year person."

Filmmakers Galleries, 477 Melwood Ave., N. Oakland, are open noon-7 p.m. today and tomorrow, noon-6 p.m. Friday. 412-681-5449 or www.pghfilmmakers.org

Courtesy of Hugh Twyman

Tristen at Stage AE

Toss this one into the "Good Shows at Completely Inappropriate Venues" files.

Last night I hit up the show headlined by Ezra Furman & the Harpoons, with support from Tristen and The Apache Relay. The acts were all great -- surprisingly so, even, especially in the case of Apache Relay, which I knew nothing of going into the night. Some Americana-rock sounds from a six-piece with some fiddle and mandolin and a few extra floor toms for percussive power. Comparisons to Mumford & Sons and the Avett Brothers would be completely appropriate. The band's singer was enthusiastic and got a warm response -- from the 25 people who showed.

Which brings us to our problem. Stage AE is a good venue -- for big shows. And I understand that the "Club" configuration is tailored to smaller, more intimate affairs. But not this intimate. I went into the night wondering if it wasn't the wrong venue for the show -- I was only vaguely familiar with Ezra Furman, though I wasn't sure if maybe there was a mass appeal for the band that I was just missing, because that's been known to happen. I knew and liked Tristen, but only really discovered her recently, and I knew my efforts to get the word out about her fantastic first album via our Critics' Picks section and my 9:13 Buzz on WYEP weren't likely to turn that many people out to a Tuesday.

The thing about this venue is that it's ideal for destination shows -- there's parking, people know how to get there, it's probably going to be great for outdoor shows. But as a stop for up-and-comers, it's not so great. It's difficult to get to without a car. There's no walk-in traffic like there would be at a neighborhood bar venue. And even in this, its smallest configuration, it's got a capacity of a few hundred; that's bound to make any show with a smaller turnout feel like a completely empty room.

The sound was good, and I can imagine a bigger show there being fun. But the lesson to be learned here is: Know your scene. None of these acts had a "big" show in Pittsburgh prior to last night, so how could they be expected to draw a couple hundred, especially without a local support act to bring in some friends and fans? The show was up against The Mountain Goats at Mr. Small's and O'Death and Thunderbird, sure, but regardless, I suspect it would've been difficult to turn a lot of heads out to this venue for this show.

Tristen's set was a stripped-down one, with just her and a guitarist. I'm excited to see her with a full band next time she comes through; many of the arrangements of her songs feature pretty great rhythm section playing and I think her live show would profit from a full-band configureation. But at its essence, her show was great: energetic, intimate, with just enough tour-weary vocal scratches to render the performance authentic. The set closed with "Heart and Hope to Die," one of my favorite tracks from her album, and the song that I think was best suited to the stripped-down instrumentation. I'm willing to put my money on Tristen taking off -- anyone willing to make a friendly wager?

Ezra Furman, sporting a brand-new, Ted Leo-style mohawk, was charming and fun, playing to the small but devoted crowd that came out on a rainy Tuesday night to see him. It was an energetic set from a talented artist who's admirably self-aware (he introduced a mid-show mini-set of emo-type tunes by noting their self-loathing nature, and owned what may have been the line of the night: "I have no life. I just sit around writing and playing songs. [pause] I have a great life.")