Jacobs shuns the acoustic strumming and anguish-laden lyrics in favor of a more upbeat change of pace with funky, electronic beats a la LCD Soundsystem and the repeated line “I quit my job” on “Singer,” which you can download below. Last year, our hearts were aching; this year, we just wanna dance.

And then Ron Tremblath from Fensepost came in with some great words today.

But, let’s call it as it is folks: A poet, a true artist at that, is in love with defiance, dancing, and pop culture. And he found an absolutely splendid way to make this happen. The songs rock, and can be enjoyed by a wide audience. That is all that really matters here. You just can’t find originality like Jacob’s The Flying Change anymore.

Good vibrations abound.

So please put it on your calendar.  And expect big things from the show.  I’ll be thinking of how to make it as great as possible.

The Flying Change
The Mercury Lounge
Tuesday, May 25th, 7pm
237 Houston Street
New York, NY

Yes, we hope to see you there, my friends.

But I’ve been thinking about this to a certain extent and I think where I end up is that I think, and for me, music is itself a kind of bummer and that fact seems so intertwined with how I make and write music that I find it inescapable.

Because, you see, music is something that moves through time.  Music is, by definition, a transient art form.  There are many caveats and qualifications you can make.  You can say that everything moves through time and so I’m being axiomatic by singling out music.  But I think time is a more integral part of music than it is for visual art, even though, yes I admit, we experience visual art or any art through time.

But walk with me here.  Music is more inescapably about movement through time. Time is the central component of music, in a sense.

And that transience.  And the awareness of that transience is what makes music so sad or melancholy or poignant for me.  Because it’s not just that it’s beautiful.  But that we are so aware that that beauty cannot and must not last.

All songs must end.

And in that sense music, and especially pop music, and especially choruses and those magic parts of pop songs that surface every now and again, they are so beautiful precisely because we know they are fleeting and will evaporate into the atmosphere.

That’s sad.  I’m sorry.  It just is.

Because music is therefore a metaphor for our own mortality and our own respective, collective, and imminent demise.  It’s about stealing beauty and life before we die.  And that imbues it with a sense of longing.  A wistfulness. A nostalgia.  A remembrance for the way it was once.  Every song ends and we know that it ends and that is an underline o the more central reality that we must end.

And things must end.  Our passionate affairs.  Our loves.  Our friendships.  Our great moments.  And our sad moments of pure realization.  Phrases like “Carpe Diem” are great and everything.  And yes we must live in the moment.  And I love life and try, as often as possible, to be right here in the midst of it and let it drip from my tongue like honey, etc.

But the sad fact is that it can drip fast or it can drip slow but drip it will my friends.  And music is part and parcel of that fact and that reality for me.  And when I write songs and think about writing songs I’m thinking about things past and things occurred and how they’re gone and how attempts at forestalling the passage of time are themselves are futile and we can write a bridge or we can write a really long passage in a song and be all pretentious but the song will end whether we like it or not and so the most beautiful thing sometimes to do is to write a really short song that is about two minutes and 30 seconds and make people remember that beautiful moment that sent them somewhere but is now over and that’s just like life, etc.

Now you’re saying, “Jesus Christ, Sam, you really ARE a bummer.”  Maybe so.  Maybe this is all rationalization for internal chemistry and psychology.  But it feels true to me.  By definition, music is a sad state of affairs.  It’s a looking backwards thing, a short passage through time, that must inevitably end.

The biggest blog besides AudioMuffin is probably Largehearted Boy.  We also got some coverage on a covers blog called Cover Me.  We also got some nice coverage on The Music Slut and Surviving the Golden Age.

And I think there might be more forthcoming.  Thanks to everyone for getting the word out.

Here’s what he had to say about it:

Someone Great brings The Flying Change to an orchestral 13-piece band. Each member of the band adds their own rhythm and titillating flourish.  If anyone has video of this please leave a link in the comments – it sounds epic!

Thanks for the kind words, Frank!  Check out our cover of ‘Someone Great’ on Audio Muffin when you have a chance.

Somewhere between Sam Jacobs’ saddened personal affairs, and his personal and professional relationships with extraordinary talents, he created a mind-scape of fine-tuned and pop-riddled indie rock.

The gang at Striker Bill have listed PIARS as #18.

This is a stark, meticulously elegant and achingly beautiful set of songs that possess an emotional ardor unlike most music that you’ve heard before.

And Ste Birkett at Heavier Than Air listed it at #14.

Exquisitely orchestrated from the delicate, minimalist passages of Broken Bow to the light-hearted bounce of If You See Something, every song here is a winner.

Not bad for a band, a songwriter and a record that were completely unknown seven months ago.  Bring it on 2010.

The feeling has faded somewhat from last Thursday.  There’s only so long you can hold lightning in a bottle before it disappears back into the ionosphere and its home in the clouds.

But we played our last show of the year last Thursday and it was truly a joy to play and let’s see if I can remember enough to tell you about right here.  (Also, see the show reviewed on the Sparked blog)

Rockwood is a small and tiny little place.  But it’s a special place.  And we’d done a good job of telling the gang about the show. This time I relied more on personal outreach to, in the words of James Murphy, all my friends, than on massive blast emails.  That plus a great write-up in the New Yorker and some other things and the room was packed.  Rockwood shows are free.  But if they weren’t we’d say it was sold out.  As it was, people were turned away at the door and the room was full to capacity.

Meanwhile, of course, we have the whole band.  And the beauty and humor of Rockwood is that it’s a tiny little stage and 3/4 of that stage is occupied by a grand piano, further reducing the available real estate.  And somehow, and over the course of about 20 minutes, we fit everyone up there and then had people spilling off onto either side.  Rich and Marc were doing percussion on one end and then Flavio and Dan were doing their thing on the other end and then me, Paul, Bronwen, Matt, Noah, Stan and Katie were squeezed up onto the actual stage.

But the cumulative result was one of joy and energy and all these musicians and all their friends and fans packed into this tiny little space and what we did was we had this big party.  And also the music was good.

Here’s some thoughts and reflections on the set:

1. Broken Bow
We’ve started the set this way for a long time now.  It’s kind of an interesting  way to get things going because it’s kind of a soft opener but it builds and it’s lovely and by the end the chorus is crashing down and everything is warm and wonderful.  We prolonged the last section and did it 6 times instead of 4 because we were all feeling the ending.  It was good.

2. If You See Something
Rousing and fun and always a bit of a mess.  We had a great time although, once again, I got a little JV in the second verse, shifting pitches mid-verse to make sure I could hit something.  I’ll stop doing that.   And we need to coordinate the hand claps a bit I think and maybe build an actual rhythm with them which would be even cooler.  But overall, it was fun and got the crowd going.

3. Dirty White Coats
Nominated for song of the year by a few folks.  Noah has been sick and was running a fever and not feeling so hot but his playing was striking and beautiful and shone through in this song.   Plus, Flavio’s viola in the second verse was also lovely.  The show was about to get going in a big way.

4. The Ways That We Destroy Ourselves
Last time we did this at Piano’s I started in the wrong key.  Problematic.  So I got Noah to give me a Bm before the thing got going.  Then we ripped into it.  The energy was palpable in this tune.  I’m not sure if it will come across the same way on the recording but it was lively and big and Paul and Bronwen’s singing was great, adding the perfect accompaniment in the choruses.  And we all got the words right.  And I saw my friend Mike come into the show at this point and this is one of his favorite songs and everybody was pumping their fists.  And then we added the part at the end that’s not on the record and it was good.

5. Everyone Is From Somewhere
This is a new song that I wrote on the way from Thanksgiving.  I was on the Beltway and I saw this sign for Northern Virginia and I knew that’s where I was going and even though it’s not that cool or hip, that’s where I’m from.  And it got me thinking about baggage and history and where people hail from and who we all are in the world.  Matt says this sounds a bit like Arcade Fire.  I think most of our new stuff is sounding like Born to Run-era Boss.  But we’ll see.  I always had this idea that it would start with the drum thing from ‘Be My Baby’ and it does and I dig it.

6. Life Is Hard
We’ve worked this song out at this point.  And as a result it sounds very beautiful.  As Paul says, “a band favorite.”

7. St. Marys
This is a love letter.

8. Hold My Heartache
The best part of this song is the outro.  And I loved it so much we extended it and right when it feels like the song is about to die out, we bring it back full bore with a big drum fill and every instrument is playing and honking it out and it’s sounding epic and enormous and heartbreaking.  So much fun.  Emotional.

9. Burning a Horse
This song is a great one to sing.  We now start it with a bass solo by Rob which is great.  We need more solos for everyone in the band, I think.  Right as I started singing, I saw Alex Lauterstein in the audience.  Alex and I had actually never met in person but he was so into the tune I knew it was him.  So we did the tune and then I gave him a shout-out for making such a beautiful remix.  It was fun.

10. Someone Great
Our version of the LCD Soundsystem epic.  It came off well.  The groove is infectious and Marc, Rich and Rob laid something that is big and bold and gets you going.  We could still tighten it up but I liked the way it came off.  Hip shaking.

11. Valentine’s Day
This song can be great and it can also be good.  I found it good last Thursday.  I think we need to continue mapping out parts for people and shifts in momentum and dynamics to make this is as powerful as possible.  But there’s always an energy there and it’s a real song and all that.  A good way to end the set.

In Conclusion

The whole thing about the show was that, in some ways, there is such a good energy up there, such a good feeling, it doesn’t matter what we do.  It does, of course.  And the band is, as I’ve written, hot-shit.  But more importantly, we are having a good time.  And I think people can feel that.  And so the shows are becoming known as “a good time” and that’s fun.  Everybody is into it and we’re having fun and ripping and pumping our literal and metaphorical fists and yet playing this lush gorgeous music at the same time and enjoying each other’s company.

So there is something happening at these shows.  And it is good.

My friend Jeremy told me yesterday that, although I am always so appreciative for people coming,  he’s not coming because he’s doing me a favor or because he feels obliged anymore.  And he does love the music.  But he’s not even coming, per se, for the music.  But he is coming for the feeling he has at the show and for the people that he only gets to see at these shows and for the energy and the vibe that’s created.  And that’s a great feeling.  Because I think what’s he describing is “a scene”.  And maybe there’s a bit of one developing around the band.  Meaning that it’s fun to go to a party and we throw one when we play and the music is good and we’re having fun and enjoying ourselves.

And that’s why we do this thing.  Because it’s fun.  And it lifts our souls and spirits and gives us a glimpse into something else and something transitory and ephemeral and alive.   It’s all of us together and in it together, the crowd, the band and the waitress in the corner and Ken at the door and everyone.

More thoughts to come throughout the week.  But good things.

We played lesson one of An Autumn Symposium at Pianos last Wednesday.  A lot of great moments and a lot of great energy.  A couple people commented that it was the best show we’ve played.  I think there were moments that were the best moments I’ve been experienced with.  Certain pieces of songs where I wanted to leap out of my skin.  And just participate in the energy in a manner that wasn’t bound by my body or my perception.

It’s a big band at this point.  A lot going on.  We need three DI boxes and then 7 mics to cover everyone.  There’s Stan on sax and flute, Dan Levine on trombone (although Clark Gayton played this gig and did a great job), Katie on oboe and English horn, Flavio on viola, Noah on guitar, Bronwen singing backup, Paul on laptop, guitar and signing, Matt on piano, Rob on bass, Rich on percussion and congas, and Marc on drums.  So that’s 12 people if you include me.  That’s a small army.

The trick with managing an army of people is to use the moments and to shift the emphasis appropriately.  To create standout moments for everyone in the band to play a part and to move the spotlight around.  I think we’re still learning how to do that to maximum effect and I’ve definitely been working with the band on dynamics.  We’ve been trying to get each song right and to get the point of emphasis right so that everyone’s not playing at the same time.

I think a lot of that work paid off on Wednesday night, even though there’s still room to grow with each song and room to explore.  I’ve tried to strip out parts where they weren’t needed.  So, in “If You See Something” having a focus on Stan’s flute in the 2nd verse instead of flute, oboe and trombone all at the same time.  And in “Dirty White Coats” leaving the acoustic guitar out until the very end.

We’re getting there.  As Paul wrote me earlier this week, there is an undeniable energy and goodness that comes out of the show.  There’s room for growth but it does feel very much like something special is happening up there.  A couple moments that stand out in my memory.

• “Hold My Heartache”.  We’ve reworked the tune slightly.  Well, rework is a perhaps generous.  We’ve extended it.  So the outro goes for a bit and Stan blows his solo and then the song dies down and typically that’s where it would end.  But then Marc rips out a fill and we come back full boar.  This was that point, in that outro, after Stan’s honked out another beautiful jam and we’ve come back with the full band.  It was simply beautiful.  I wanted to leap out of my skin.  I felt very happy to be up there.
• “Valentine’s Day”.  We’d really been struggling with this tune in practice.  It was missing something.  I don’t know what it was missing but it’s clear that we found it on Wednesday night and that maybe we were overthinking things a little bit.  The new part that Matt wrote on the piano somehow creates a continuity of energy that flows through the rest of the tune.  And everybody was feeling it.  It came together and had a beautiful and gorgeous driving beat.  It felt good and everyone liked it and that was a good tune.  The lyrics got even more personal than I normally get.  Oh well
• “There Is A Light”.  This was a new tune that we’d only played a few times.  And Rob and Matt had never played it but I brought them in after sending them an mp3 of the tune from rehearsal.  It came together.  My guitar playing is never perfect but it was passable and it felt full and rich and Bronwen’s singing was a perfect compliment to mine and it felt good.  I have reservations about the song.  The changes and the tune and some of the lyrics aren’t terribly innovative, I feel.  And I worry that it’s a little too conventional.  But sometimes that’s just how it goes.  You can’t fight beauty.

In other news, I got a hernia on stage.  I’ve been having this pain in my lower abdomen when I sing and stand and play guitar all at the same time.  And something definitely ruptured or burst when I was up there.  To the point where I thought I might have to cancel the gig in the middle of the set .

The problem is that this was the first gig since the Lipstik days that I stood (I normally sit).  And standing had a big and positive impact.  It was more fun and felt more natural and I got more air and could sing a bit better.  So I don’t know.  Might have to just suck it up.

Anyway, it was this hot pulsing feeling right above my private places.  Saw the doctor and it looks like I’ll need surgery.  It’ll have to wait until the next gig after the Rockwood show, though.  Some things take priority.

Not only are the songs on Pain Is A Reliable Signal well written and emotionally charged (albeit in a rather down-played fashion), but they are very well produced.Robert L. Smith and Paul Brill (a master of gloomy Americana of his own sort) have taken the songs of The Flying Change and created a musical palette that is very evocative and cinematic. The songs carry the mind from a stark desert landscape to the bustle of an urban center, and back to the peace of the country. Jacobs has done a wonderful job of writing songs that are highly personal, but also tell stories in a way that Paul Simon would be proud of, and putting them all together in a wildly delicious package of aural bliss.

Good stuff.  Thanks, Embo.  And thanks Robert L Smith and Paul Brill.  You guys are good and decent gentlemen.