Once again, to celebrate all things Wham and Whartscape, we asked some of the artists performing to answer a mini questionnaire. Future Islands’ William Cashion was our first subject.

MP3: Future Islands – Little Dreamer

MP3: Future Islands – Pinnochio

Yeah? So what if last year’s Wave Like Home was fully kickass? Who cares if Future Islands are totally Wham City vets? I mean, they only played Round Robin and toured around with Dan Deacon on his last outing. Most of them were in the ensemble, but that doesn’t even count. They’ve been in like, what? Two Whartscapes before? Whatever. Here’s what bassist William Cashion, 1/3 of these synth-poppers, thinks about all of this jazz. </sarcasm>

1. If there’s one single thing, say an essence, that embodies all that Wham City has to offer, what would it be?

- Whartscape is pretty much the embodiment of what Wham City has to offer. Lots of friends, cool bands from all over, performances, jokes, and tons of emails.

2. What’s the best reason to live in Baltimore?

- The music and arts community / Cheap rent.

3. What do you think the chances are of Dan Deacon enlisting every artist performing at Whartscape for his next project?

- Probably won’t happen, too many dudes.

4. What’s your favorite part about Whartscape?

- A year’s worth of bands coming together for one special weekend.

MP3: Old 97’s – I Will Remain

MP3: Old 97’s – Color Of A Lonely Heart Is Blue

The Old 97’s played a sold out show at the Recher this past Saturday night.  This show was a special night for those fans of Old 97’s because on this tour, Rhett Miller and Murry Hammond (both members of Old 97’s) opened with solo acoustic performances.  The Recher filled early with fans eager to hear the openers as well as the main act.  Murry started the evening playing either guitar or harmonium with his very quiet and haunting, old style country melodies.  Rhett took the stage next playing many new songs from his latest release, Rhett Miller,  as well as some great classics.  Old 97’s played a lengthy set to close the evening.  For Rhett Miller fans: he will be playing the Black Cat in DC on September 17th.  Tickets for this go on sale THIS Friday (July 3rd).

Enjoy the photos from the evening.

Old 97’s

Rhett Miller and Murry Hammond

Editor’s Note: LP was dropped a week early for $8.  $2 goes to Oxfam America.

I think I’ve done my fair share of radio bashing here at Aural States. Whether it was by wholeheartedly agreeing with Spectre’s assessment of modern hip hop radio, or whilst dissing the filler-engrossed waves put out by what was once 99.1 HFS, I think I’ve made my opinion clear (of course, for these purposes, I ignore the few respectable oases still in operation today. Props to WTMD and WPFW for solid programming).

As if to spite FM radio’s gloomy condition, Discovery, the product of Ra Ra Riot vocalist Wes Miles and Vampire Weekender Rostam Batmanglij, have found something to like about turning on their dials. They find use for the treading beats and beaten-to-death subject material thrown together by dozens of half-assed MTV projects, the difference being that their output is surprisingly enjoyable in its entirety, rather than only mildly so in single form.

The most interesting track on their debut, LP, comes in the form of a Jackson 5 cover. They deftly dodge the the problem of recreating Mr. Jackson’s superpitch vocal work by using R&B’s recently popularized all-purpose miracle cure–autotune, suitably reimagining one of Motown’s greatest tunes in context with modern radio conventions (right down to the too-fake-for-life drum kit and glazed-slick production). The funny thing is, it sounds completely authentic, like something blasted out of a high-schooler’s mom’s minivan on the ride home after senior prom. Because they’ll remember that moment for the rest of their lives.

Their song selection couldn’t have been more appropriate for a good-ol’-fashion modern-meets-classic comparison. The Corporation-written chorus progression translates well into any medium, and the lyrics remain just as relevant today as they were 40 years ago. Past releases have proven that all performers involved have a keen eye for catch, making Discovery’s cover an ideal candidate to show where pop music has gone.

Drenched in reverb, as though recorded in some distant wooded canyon, ex-Baltimoreans Pontiak follow up their hard-rocking psychedelic debut with another strong offering of much of the same. Which is problematic, because somehow this band sounds both all too familiar and equally difficult to describe. Stoner metal riffs that could have come off a Kyuss album are buried between, and sometimes subconsciously emerge from, more eerie and vaguely defined, druggy soundscapes. Luckily Ponitak pack enough twists and turns into a three-minute jam to keep you on your toes, never dragging their heels or resting their laurels on a single riff or sound (a habit some stoner rockers too easily settle into).

The band sounds more self-assured than on their debut, which sometimes means they sacrifice the lopsided, falling-out-of-nowhere melodies for less accidental (what I suppose one might call more mature) songcraft. Maker has an almost boastful strut to it, a traditional rock band’s answer to a group like Mastodon, perhaps. But never once does Pontiak sound mired in any one aspect of their craft, be it songwriting, guitar effects, or instrumental heroics–this winds up being a good thing. There are plenty of surprises to behold along the way, from the wandering song parts of “Wax Worship,” which takes three minutes to build from a noisy feedback-at-11 intro into some dirty blues riffs to the acoustic chill-out of “Seminal Shining.” Never exactly progressive, but never content to stick to 4/4 verse-chorus-verse, Pontiak throw in just enough outbursts and change ups to keep their sound from becoming monolithic or wearisome.

Certainly that’s not to say their rhythm section isn’t captivating on its own merit. The studio bells and whistles are few and far between, and there’s an earthy, almost forgotten, organic nature to their behemoth sound.  At times dissonant, occasionally melodic, and always cavernous and gripping. I’m just suggesting that if you tire of the five-minute one-liners of Dead Meadow–to whom Pontiak are so often compared–you won’t have the same complaints about Maker. And if you’re especially tired of the overstimulation brought on by what will likely be referred to in the future as ADD rock, then I bet you’ll find a lot to enjoy.

The reason being that Pontiak don’t rest their laurels on riffs alone, with atmospherics and textures playing an equally important role. There isn’t quite a punk energy on some of the tracks (well, the noise freak-out of “Headless Conference” being close to an exception), so much as a groundswell of attacking rhythms. Seemingly picked up by blustery winds from some remote land and deposited on your doorstep along with the mass of debris they claimed along the way, be it blues, psychedelia, folk or whatever else lies between here and the backwoods Virginia location where the album was recorded.

Vocally, Van Carney sounds heavily indebted to Roger Waters, lacking the former’s penchant for sing-songy iambic tetrameter (which, if you haven’t noticed, is a subject worthy of study unto itself) and conceptually tiring extended metaphor. I’m not entirely certain what Carney is singing about and I haven’t seen a single article that’s paid his words any attention. To be fair, they’re difficult to pick out, but I think there’s a lot to do with creation and destruction and fittingly heavy subjects like knife fights. Regardless, the real aspect of this album to behold is the way the parts assemble and break apart, achieving something darkly compelling along the way.

I haven’t been lucky enough to catch their live show but I hear the walls of distortion put a real hurting on your eardrums. So if you love being pummeled by gnarly guitars as much as the next hooligan, do check them out if you get the opportunity.

Label: Thrill Jockey

Release date: April 7, 2009

Track list:

01 Laywayed
02 Blood Pride
03 Wax Worship
04 Headless Conference
05 Wild Knife Night Fight
06 Heat Pleasure
07 Aestival
08 Maker
09 Seminal Shining
10 Honey
11 AASSTTEERR

MP3: The Flying Eyes – We Are Not Alive

MP3: Vincent Black Shadow – Flash Roll

MP3: The Black Hollies – Get Yourself Together, Girl

Ever wanted to camp out and attend a fantastic music festival on a big farm? Don’t feel like trekking out to Tennessee? Then boy, have we got the fest for you: Farm Fest 2009 out in Millers, MD.

Organized by local psych-rockers the Flying Eyes, the festival is a celebration of the creme de la creme of psych-influenced artists in the area:

The Black Hollies
The Flying Eyes
Strangers Family Band
Vincent Black Shadow
Hollywood
The Albertans
The Deaf Scene
Pinche Gringo
Bad Liquor Pond

Plus special guests:
DJ Amanda Otto
The Herman Melville Experience
and Ian Humphrey!!!

Do yourself a favor and get to this.

Tentative schedule:

The Deaf Scene- 4pm
Bad Liquor Pond- 5pm
The Albertans- 6pm
Hollywood- 7pm
Vincent Black Shadow- 8pm
Pinche Gringo- 9pm
The Flying Eyes- 10pm
The Black Hollies- 11pm
Strangers Family Band- 12am

PRE-SALE TICKETS ARE ONLY $13!!! BUY IN ADVANCE AND SAVE MONEY!
Contact us to buy them:
Adam-410-227-1786
Elias- 410-458-4057
theflyingeyes@comcast.net

1) Live music all day and night
2) Free camping
4) And a free copy of The Flying Eyes brand new EP, “Winter”, all for only $13 admission!!!

DIRECTIONS TO FARM FEST:

- Go North on I-83
- Take exit 27 for MD-137/Mt Carmel Rd
- Turn left at MD-137/Mount Carmel Rd
- Turn right at Falls Rd/MD-25 and go 6.2 miles
- Turn left at Hoffmanville Rd
- Turn left at Alesia Rd
(*NOTE*: Do not make the right turn onto the first Alesia Rd. you see. Continue underneath the bridge and then make a left onto the second Alesia Rd.)
- Make a right turn into the driveway marked with balloons a.k.a 4600!!!

MP3: Spectre – Blazed feat. Sensational

MP3: Spectre – Valour

MP3: Spectre – Fracture

I haven’t taken rap, or hip-hop for that matter, seriously since I first heard “Get Low,” penned by some disillusioning bastard with a mixing program. So, needless to say it’s been years. Friends of mine would play their favorites in an attempt to convert me, all usually trashy jams you hear on Hot-99.5 (ruining the taste of high school students, one single at a time), which didn’t help in the least.

That’s the backstory of how I came to loathe the genre as a whole, just so you’re aware of my rap/hip-hop/R&B credentials before I go into this any further. But to be fair, I had an open mind to rap, believing somehow that it can express notable emotion in its own way. I just assumed that such art was almost unobtainable without some sort of black-market inside source so I never attempted to find it. Years later, this guy named Greg asked me to check out an artist named Spectre.  He sent me his 2003 album, Psychic Wars. This is where my viewpoint on rap and hip-hop shifted for the better. This is the art I was hoping existed, but never quite found.

Spectre, otherwise known as Skiz Fernando, is a Harvard-educated rap artist that runs his own “Crooklyn”-founded, Baltimore-based label called Wordsound. His default setting is sinister: a dark, contemplative tone that calls for chills on all occasions. And it works.

Early on, Psychic Wars’ immaculate production assumes the chief position, that is, it’s clear that Skiz really knows what he’s doing: “I have been producing music now for a little over 20 years, and I’ve had a lot of time to hone my chops, so hopefully it shows in the productions. I’ve released 7 solo albums as Spectre, and I’ve just completed my first album-length collaboration with my long-time friend Sensational–an album which feels like the best thing I’ve ever done.” Even so, Psychic Wars sounds wise in a way, as if it’s actually not working hard, but smart. Look at the overdriven “Valour,” reversed cymbals and that funky drum bit lure you into the song’s hypnotic trance while Spectre hardly breaks a sweat. His impeccably placed percussion sequences don’t put effort into to breaking down your walls–they do that just by nature.

On top of being a practiced and observable master of the beat, Spectre makes use of melody just as effectively throughout his art. The insistent bass-keys duo in “The Fire Within“ does all the work for nearly four minutes, using the skins only as a mere spot.  ”Blazed (feat. Sensational)” stumbles gracefully with a glitched-out piano sample and under-the-radar helicopter chops, drowned out by what sounds like a thousand teapots exploding. The sum of this, accompanied by Sensational’s free-for-all rhyme scheme, gives the impression of tamed chaos with Fernando as its keeper. It makes for the album’s best introductory track (even though it sits as a centerpiece).

While I was busy delving into Psychic Wars, I was handed yet another Spectre record. This time around it turned out to be 2009’s Internal Dynasty, a similarly fear-focused album of the same breed. To my untrained ears, these two works appear indistinguishable. I mean, if you shuffled the tracks together well, there’s no way I could tell the difference. Spectre uses similar prerequisites in both Internal Dynasty and Psychic Wars, a glitch-sample foundation with a heavy-ass beat, quotes from horror flicks, and the same old time-tested studio masterminding.

I’d say the one distinguishing feature of Internal Dynasty is that it works on a more accessible level. “Catch A Fire” sports a calm, collected rhythm section alongside wordplay so abrupt you can hardly tell where one word ends and the next begins, working the nonchalant angle like nobody’s business. All the same, the electro-fanatic in me has “Fracture” on his favorites list.  It utilizes every trick Wham City kids have written down on the back of their circuit-bending trickbooks, and finds itself pieced together far more aptly for it. On the other hand, placing a track like “Fracture” in the context of, say a Death Set album, would be to reduce it to one of the most unengaging on the record (slow beats and repetition hardly get you anywhere in spaz-punk). But this isn’t spaz-punk, and in the end, “Fracture” pulls its own weight (and then some). Among Dynasty’s other highlights, “Vai Na Fé” throws you off balance with a waltzy intro, then morphs itself into the most tastefully orchestrated Latin beat I’ve heard in a long while. All this in strict cooperation with Spectre’s signature: ominous atmospherics.

According to Fernando, this is just a function of where his music dwells: “Darkness is just my m.o., but I think what’s more important is that music is still important to me. I’m still making music for music’s sake and not for money’s sake. I still want to create something original and new that you haven’t heard yet. I’m still hungry. I have not had the credit, the money or the fame, and I think that makes all the difference. The darkness comes from a real place. It comes from the struggle to be heard.”

Spectre appears to practice his craft in a realm truly untouched by the mainstream hip hop world. Existing in musical solitude seems very much his thing. This no doubt affects the way Wordsound is run. A quick visit to their Myspace page shows that they profess to be their own influence, their own sound (the precise phrase being that they “ARE the sound”). I don’t know how to express any more succintly that they are skeptical of the outside world.

Fernando acknowledges that WordSound has “always existed on the fringes of hip-hop culture,” and that reason number one for this is “rap music itself has become pop music and is more about conformity than innovation, originality or creativity. It’s a commodity now and it’s not about breaking barriers.”

He swiftly decries the proliferation of Auto-Tune, not unlike an environmentalist watching wildfires destroy the woodlands.  ”When it started out, hip-hop incorporated all sounds and styles, and that’s what initially attracted me to it,” Fernando laments. “Afrika Bambaataa, the ‘Godfather of Hip-Hop’ always says: ‘I’m hip-hop and then some.’ To me that speaks volumes.  While hip-hop is primarily an urban art form, it uses (or used to use) so many other influences, and that, to me, is what made it great.”

Despite all this, Fernando and Wordsound aren’t quite as averse to the mainstream as appearances, or dogma would dictate.  Fernando is quick to pessimism, blasting radio for its perpetuation of “uninspired, cookie-cutter rap,” but he isn’t without a sliver of optimism.  ”I think hip-hop could be so much more and I hope it saves itself from the ‘blahs.’ I would also love to hear WordSound on the radio, and work with some well-known MCs like Ghostface or Busta Rhymes. Maybe that’s happening in the Bizarro universe already.”

Note: You can pick up Internal Dynasty at the True Vine.

MP3: Wale – Wonder Why feat. Mike Posner, Big Sean, & Kenn Starr

MP3: The Bravery – Rocket (Smashing Pumpkins Cover)

MP3: The National – The Geese of Beverly Road [Live]

MP3: Franz Ferdinand – This Fire

I pretty much gave up news postings on this site early on; the big dogs have the monopoly on that one for everything but the most local of scene happenings.  But this is one huge tidbit of news that needs airing.

The rumors of the demise of Virgin Mobile Fest this year have been exaggerated, apparently a great deal.  Press release just dropped tonight letting everyone know the shindig this year will be FREE OF CHARGE:

Virgin Mobile USA, creator of one of the largest and most critically acclaimed music festivals in the U.S., announced today that it would host the 2009 Virgin Mobile Festival on Sunday, August 30, at Merriweather Post Pavilion in Columbia, Md., free of charge. All tickets will be given away, and previous Virgin Mobile Festival ticket buyers and Virgin Mobile customers will have the first crack at securing the 35,000 tickets.

Some more good feelings:

To respond to the sharp decrease in national social giving, Virgin Mobile FreeFest will also host a special VIP seating area for those who complete 13 hours of community service at designated homeless youth shelters around the country.

When are these miraculous free tickets being handed out, and how you may ask:

Tickets to the 2009 Virgin Mobile FreeFest will be available to the public at http://www.ticketmaster.com at 10 am EST on Saturday, June 27^th. Virgin Mobile customers and previous Virgin Mobile Festival ticket buyers will be invited via email to a private “free-sale” (much like a pre-sale, except free) to be held Thursday, June 25^th and Friday, June 26^th.

Ticketmaster is waiving the convenience charge when fans pick up their FreeFest tickets at Merriweather or the 9:30 Club in Washington, D.C. Customers also have the option to pay Ticketmaster to deliver their tickets. For more details on the ticketing, including options for donating money to youth homelessness and buying limited edition FreeFest T-shirts, check out virginmobilefreefest.com.

The lineup is not bad at all, especially in light of the new pricing plan.  Performers include Weezer, the newly resurrected Blink-182, Franz Ferdinand, Public Enemy, Jet, The National, Girl Talk, The Bravery, The Hold Steady, St. Vincent, Wale, and Taking Back Sunday, HOLY F*CK, Pete Tong, Danny Howells and Lee Burridge.

So enjoy some flashback tracks above, and get ready to click for free/benefit causes.

MP3: Elvis Perkins in Dreamland – Doomsday

MP3: Those Darlins – Wild One

All photos: Greg Szeto

Not to be reductionist by any means, but if you’ve ever wondered whether riot grrl attitude would mesh well with honky-tonk country, look no farther than Tennessee’s Those Darlins.  Much more than that simple formula, they now stand as one of my top 5 favorite finds in an opening act over the past few years.  A commanding presence, immensely catchy music bolstered by tight playing.  A country-fried approach that goes beyond a simple aesthetic, something clearly oozing out of their pores and roots, they present a vital take on country that is fresh and electric.

My ears have suffered far too long under sterilized country radio, and clearly, they feel the same way: their sound is rooted in that of traditional country pillars like the Carter Family, and reflects the common bond that first brought them together and fueled their musical mission.  Their stage chemistry is phenomenal and exudes a perfect mix of sassy sexuality and confidence.  Their sound has grown greatly from their simpler roots, embracing blues and garage rock swagger and riffage to make their music deadly and more immediate than a boot to the nuts. They just released their debut LP and it’s a rollicking good time.  I would say they are a don’t miss act if ever you see them coming through your neck of the woods.

Elvis Perkins is now, in my mind, one of the unquestionably great singer/songwriters to emerge in the past decade.  He is as affecting and intimate as he is versatile and showmanlike.  My first exposure to him was opening for Okkervil River the last time they stopped by the Ottobar. He made them look like amateurs.  Perkins then was on the heels of his mournful LP Ash Wednesday, and was moving beyond words.  Effectively, an emotional demolitions expert.

His latest, self-titled LP, is a more balanced and lush affair, bright but only in contrast to Ash, and never excessively so.  He truly wows with his gorgeous aural textures and penchant for diverse instrumentation and sounds.  What’s more astounding is that he manages to effectively transport all this to the live experience, his backing band rallying about him as they hop around the stage with horns and drums in tow, blaring (highlights: “Shampoo,” “Doomsday”).  An ebullient and engaging affair that feels like going to see the musical equivalent of an acrobatic circus.  The show brought to mind the magnitude of childlike wonder that Sigur Ros effuses, but with a heaping dose of world-weary maturity and sagacity.

It would seem that Perkins has traded in some of his crushing emotional weight for a more whimsical bent, and it is a welcome bit of leavening.  Some his earlier work suffers with these changes, losing much of their resonance (”While you were sleeping”); thankfully, others take new life (”May Day”).  From all this, the overall impression you walk away left with is that you’ve witnessed something undeniably special, and you can’t help but wonder where Perkins will take us next.

Elvis Perkins

Those Darlins

MP3: Cex – Brains Out

Cex aka Cexman aka Rjyan Kidwell recently dropped his new wax, Bataille Royale, on a Baltimore scene that is more than ready for this addition to its musical vocabulary.  This record is unquestionably the product of a bombed out soul, a spirit that is truly and uniquely urban.  Here we find soundscapes that, much like dub, reflect the darker side of the metropolitan experience.  Kidwell has openly stated this is a response to the predominance of standard (and saccharine) tropes of indie rock and psychedelia, and it certainly succeeds in presenting an alternative flavor.  Cex has carved a musical document that channels Baltimore while pond-hopping around various subgenres of electronic and hip-hop.

The first track, “Last Gazp,” is a burnt-out aural landscape: expansive and distant, while somehow, paradoxically, claustrophobic and overbearing.  Recurring machine-gun rattles are jarring and immediate, especially when juxtaposed to the mysterious melody.  ”Brains out” is a dark and foreboding, borderline psychoses-inducing cut of techno, the only words being exhortations of: “Blow your brains out.”  These tracks, and this record, deserve to be digested and pored over.  Each listen brings out more and more facets of this gem.

But, the real meat of Cex lies in his masterful live sets.  Lucky for us, this month’s More or Less party at the Hexagon has Cex performing tonight (he’s even giving away some copies of Bataille).  You can pick up copies of Bataille Royale at the lovely True Vine.

MP3: The Rural Alberta Advantage – Don’t Haunt This Place from Hometowns (re-release on Saddle Creek  July 07, 2009)

The Rural Alberta Advantage have got something special. Like any good music group, a list of their influences (Neutral Milk Hotel, Mountain Goats, countless other gloomy bands) doesn’t even half explain their music. Trying to break down their debut album, Hometowns, into genres and comparisons proves itself a futile task because there’s something untouchable about them, almost as if what they create is more than its material aspects.

With pipes that ineffably burrow into you (like those of many who inspire him), Nils Edenloff’s vocal work probes around with rippled valor and finds it’s home right near where your most melancholy emotions reside. While Hometowns definitely sounds like a collaborative effort, most would point to Nils when looking for a frontman. He’s accompanied by Paul Banwatt, a drummer who,  if “Don’t Haunt This Place” tells us anything, has got some serious skills, and Amy Cole, whose voice perfectly accentuates Nils’ in all the most necessary places. They come to the table with a downcast mix of guitar-driven indie rock, sometimes heralding with frantic blasts of energy, others utilizing more contemplative moods bordering on folk-art, but always accomplishing what the song intends.

Following a near-zero-press independent release of the album last year on eMusic, the RAA have been steadily doctoring a now-developing buzz in the music world, and have opted to re-release Hometowns through Saddle Creek Records (a damn good decision). They may sound like a thousand other forgettable indie outfits, but something about these Albertans sticks regardless of that fact. Prediction: a total blog-based (cough) explosion of popularity in the next month or two.

MP3: Ape School – My Intention (Yppah Remix)

A recent conversation with Michael Johnson of Philadelphia-based solo project Ape School revealed a frustrating truth: tastes, and therefore influences, are now running in ever-shortening duration.

In a feature article about his new self-titled release in Remix where he was asked cite his top ten biggest influences — a list which contained works by David Bowie, Scott Walker, and the Flaming Lips — Johnson’s was met with slack-jawed bemusement by the editors. Funny, as these works have traditionally been considered fairly standard fare for such inventories. So what’s a self-described “Todd Rundgren-ripoff” destined for in this day and age, especially when his most recent work is released by the subsidiary of a label that’s primarily known for its drum and bass pedigree?

The cut-out bin, apparently. Little recognition and few reviews have followed. Which is a shame, as records which involve this much sheer songwriting craft are uncommon. The Rundgren comparisons go deeper than Johnson’s Philly homebase: like Rundgren, this is pop music that rewards the thinking and the unthinking among us. Listen in on “That’s OK,” a plaintive yet playful, fragile diary entry with a trapdoor hook:

One could make the argument for a direct lineage with Johnson’s previous project, the Florida-based Sub Pop band Holopaw, as there is a head-and-heart-in-equal-portions component to that band’s work as well. However, Johnson’s embrace of aged analog synths (old Moogs and Arps, made accessible through his job as an instructor in the Music Tech Department at the University of the Arts) brings a quirkier and less “rock band” atmosphere to Ape School. “It’s Over” is a good example of that, as an ancient, dusty synth preset forms the core of the verse, with Johnson’s delicate, multi-tracked falsetto providing the lofty flight of the chorus:

Although almost oppressive at first, the bent synth chords of the verse lodge themselves deep in your brain and won’t leave. And many songwriters would leave it at that. Johnson, however, has included a chorus and a melody that renders the tools on which the tune is played moot: it’s just a great song. Don’t be fooled into thinking this is art untouched by 2009, however, as the subtle feedback and xylophone that comprise the coda reveal an artist interested in texture and mood (hallmarks of our era) as much as melodiousness.

There are drawbacks to Ape School. Like so very many records, it’s two or three songs too long. These excisable songs are perhaps best described as extraneous genre exercises (most specifically, the just a little bit too cute “I Did What I Did”). But this is a record that stands outside of time, or at least the time we currently inhabit. We could argue for hours about what qualifies music as timeless, but I would proffer that melodies, hooks, and a certain thoughtfulness of craft are immutable traits of what will last. Seek out Ape School and see if you agree.

Label: Counter / Ninja Tune

Release Date: Apr 28 2009

Track list:
01 Wail To God
02 That’s OK
03 Did What I Did
04 My Intention
05 Be An Encore
06 Sigh Something
07 It’s Over
08 Caveman vs. Canary
09 The Underground
10 Deathstomp
11 Floridian Grime
12 In Time You Are
13 Rip Together Rip Apart
14 No Shame

MP3: Gogol Bordello – Dying After You (traditional Gypsy song) from NPR’s All Things Considered on April 29, 2006

MP3: Man Man – Van Helsing Boombox from Six Demon Bag (2006)

Fuck if Man Man couldn’t be more awesome. I arrived at Rams Head Live to a snakelike line going nearly out the door, pseudo-hipster girls and some reluctant looking boyfriends were found in waiting throughout the folding rows. Surprisingly enough, Man Man went on right at the crack of nine-o’clock as planned and played the hell out of their set. Commencing with Rabbit Habits’ powerhouse, “Hurly Burly,” these Philly hobo-rockers ran though an hour of assorted songs from their three albums in what seemed like 20 minutes.

They tend to sound as if they’ve been waiting all their lives to play these tunes. Everything was in place while still appearing spontaneous, each musician perfectly competent in his portion of the music. The immediately frenzied crowd reacted in just such a way; I believe there was even a mild mosh pit by the set’s finale (for some reason).

The downside of Man Man’s set was the omission of their more balladesque tracks, being that “Rabbit Habits” was probably the only song that wasn’t made for hopping to. Seeing as their ability to invoke such a meaningful empathy is such a high point of their recorded output, the lack of slower songs was a particular disappointment. No “Feathers,” “Van Helsing Boombox,” “Gold Teeth,” “Doo Right,” and especially to my displeasure, no “Ice Dogs.”

Next up we had the Borat-like stylings of Gogol Bordello (with whom I’m much less familiar). Going through my computer’s speakers, they came off like an obnoxious party band that cares more about their fashion than any sort of art. However, the friends I went to the show with assured me that they’re supposed to be great live…and they couldn’t have been more right. The Rams Head nearly caved in whenever the hundreds of dancing young people decided to hit ground.

The madness wasn’t even relegated to the first floor pit as per usual: as I walked through the upper levels of the venue, I saw a number of feverishly flailing patrons in all places (this, by the way, made it impossible to move anywhere). Every song had a dance-beat: bass drum, high-hat, followed by snare and another high-hat, repeated ad nauseam for two to four minutes. Every. Last. Song.

To me, Gogol-frontman Eugene Hütz seems like he’s just putting on the Eastern-European mask for the sake of being “in.” Despite the fact that it totally worked and that it in no way takes anything from the live experience, this apparent artificiality allows songs like “Start Wearing Purple” to carry absolutely no artistic credibility. The whole act gives the impression that it’s a joke.

But hey, everyone had a good time last Thursday so in the end, who cares? Ask most anyone in the crowd and they’ll tell you that Gogol were off-the-fuggin-wall awesome, they may even posit that the Bordello’s performed better than Man Man (which I would have trouble believing). So, while I’d never recommend listening to a Gogol Bordello album front to back, I fully advocate the live experience. And in accordance with that, I think that what these musicians really care about is hosting a batshit insane party on stage, and not some silly recording.

Baby Aspirin

Source: Peluso CEMC6/ck4(card)>PS-2>AD-20>NJB3
Transfer: NJB3>PC>SF-7>Wav>FLAC
Taper: Jeff Mewbourn (jm292@yahoo.com)

Download set archive in MP3 or FLAC format.

Streaming MP3s and video after the jump.

1. MP3: Santa Meurte
2. MP3: Thin Pink Line
3. MP3: Oh Poltergeist
4. MP3: Black Arrow
5. MP3: Tiger
6. MP3: Blonde Beehive
7. MP3: My Rising Sun

Notes:
Lineup:Rufustival (outdoors)
Sound: Natasha Tylea Cooke & Adam Cooke
SUPPORT LOCAL MUSIC

Necrophagist plays

MP3: Necrophagist – Seven from Epitaph (2004)

MP3: Necrophagist – Stabwound from Epitaph (2004)

If ‘metal-head’ is an honorific term measuring the duration (as well the depth) of one’s commitment to metal, I am probably not a metal-head.

I am a dedicated and passionate student of metal, but also a fairly recent convert. The lynchpin in my conversion: Necrophagist, who I first heard somewhere in the middle of a ten-hour car ride in the summer of 2006. Pushing play, the friend who introduced me to Necrophagist declared with confidence that they were “the best death metal band in world.” This kind of enthusiasm is typical of devotees to death metal, and is hard to resist. Walking home from the library a few weeks later with “Stabwound” on my iPod, I had a thought which went something like “these guitar solos are really, really good.” And thus, my conversion was complete.

Necrophagist incorporates an almost absurd degree of technical proficiency into their music. If you are into metal you have probably already heard them. But besides those who already like fast, brutal, technical metal, fans of jazz, progressive, and guitar dweebs (players or fans of Steve Vai and Yngwie Malmsteen, i.e. me) could find plenty to love. What sets guitarist and vocalist Muhammed Suicmez apart from many other gifted guitar players is the degree to which his solos are seamlessly integrated into the music. Necrophagist’s songs are constructed around complex guitar parts, so two minutes of sweep-picking can be a development and expansion of what has gone before instead of a showcase for Suicmez’s awesome talent.

Necrophagist also go far beyond technicality and complexity for its own sake, and many of their songs could be even described as catchy. It is weird to find yourself humming “Intestinal Incubation,” but just try to get those harmonics out of your head. Necrophagist, in other words, make really good music and (unlike Steve Vai) they are not a guilty pleasure. Depth and complexity are terms that apply to a lot of heavy metal, especially death metal. Necrophagist can easily become a bridge to some of the even heavier bands at Summer Slaughter like Origin, Beneath the Massacre, and death metal legends Suffocation. Metalheads are already looking forward to Summer Slaughter.

Non-metalheads, I want to convert you: Necrophagist are the best death metal band in the world.

MP3: Thieves Like Us – Miss You from Play Music (2009)

MP3: Thieves Like Us – Drugs In My Body (Long Version) from Play Music (2009)

MP3: Get ‘Em Mamis – Rock Wit Me (Explicit) from TERAWESOME (2009)

MP3: DAT Politics – Gee Gee from Minicomp 1 (2008)

So this shis show next Saturday (June 13th) is a big deal.  Lots of names, spread all over the board.  Mucho props to TaxLo for  bringing together a broad array of artists.

I have a pair of tickets and a copy of Dan Deacon’s Bromst to giveaway to the funniest/most interesting commenr.  The theme is summer lovin. Go.  And enjoy this new video from the Get Em Mamis after the jump.

MP3: CozyLab – To Be Free

MP3: CozyLab – Glowy

It seems projects largely consigned to bedrooms or behind closed doors are producing some of the most engaging stuff I’ve been hearing as of late.  Take Virginia/DC-based CozyLab, the main outlet for Bobby Azarian and a rotating collective of (mostly) female vocalists and other collaborators,  CozyLab creates lush, engrossing soundscapes, their churning build and the impeccably dulcet, oft heavy-lidded female vocals openly wear their admiration for the more pastoral and hypnotizing works of Bjork.  It’s nearly impossible to tell that hardcore and metal were parts of Azarian’s musical lineage (only belied by the occassionally more aggro beat here or there); his dance-pop roots are squarely in the spotlight.  CozyLab ply numerous electronic bits into traditional song structures to resemble some kind of meticulously-constructed aural mosaic, easily digested as a whole picture with just your right brain on, yet laden with so many independently evolving textures and layers that things become infinitely more rewarding once your left brain kicks in and you start teasing things apart.

“Vertigo” whips you with its spiraling industrial/dancehall beat and bass line, providing a propulsive undertow anchoring the wispy, slightly off-key vocals and a dizzying array of sounds from both synths and traditional instruments.  A melange that is gloriously dark and addictive.  ”Glowy Glowy” is delicious electronic funk, showing MGMT how it’s truly done.  ”To Be Free” opens with you swimming in the spacious and dreamy, underwater depths of electronic loops, only to be caught in the enchanting wake of more motivating synth lines and loftier vocals that take you on a journey that melts the world away.  ”Maldjusted Me” features some great lyrical turns, and complements it with a major key resolution to the persistent and gloomy minor key groove from its opening.  ”Him” makes an impassioned manifesto for soulful electronica, the down-tempo pulsating and extraterrestrial music backing some startlingly lucid, R&B-inspired vocal work.  This is all just a taste of things to come as Azarian and cohorts solidify their approach, polish off two new tracks and attempt to navigate a live performance arrangement, all future ventures that I will be watching closely.  Hopefully you agree.

It would seem that the negative stereotypes of prog are falling to the wayside, as artists from all genres are inching more and more into the no-fly zone of progressive.  The Decemberists jumped into the deep end with their latest, and metal-masters Mastodon further entrench themselves with their most proggish album yet.  On Crack the Skye, Mastodon presents itself as a full-on progressive metal entity, the echoes of early Metallica that resonated strongly on Leviathan are much more subdued.  You should expect as much, looking at the absolutely over-the-top album artwork (I hope the guys are as big fans of Big Trouble In Little China as their Lo Pan-ish imagery suggests).

To a large extent, this move farther towards the progressive was inevitable when considering Mastodon’s catalog and approach.  With a historian’s measure of exactitude and the flourish of a great novelist, they have always crafted epic tales, grander than most in the genre topically, and nearly all technically bombastic without overstaying its welcome.  Leviathan drawing no trivial amount of inspiration from Moby Dick, or the epic fantasy of Blood Mountain.  Crack the Skye edges towards decidedly more sci-fi fare, interdimensional and inter-temporal travel being lynchpins to the pseudo-plot.

The ease with which “Oblivion” coasts through myriad epochs of metal both efficiently and proficiently would be astounding if it weren’t so damn well streamlined.  One moment channeling early Metallica, the next chugging through knee-deep sludge and doom riffs before emerging with soaring prog solos.  Vocalist Brent Hinds also frequently treads into Sabbath-era Ozzy.  The vertiginous spirals that open “Divinations” musically emulate spirits.  Grand, majestic chords set the tone for the open airiness of “Quintessence.”  The 10+ minute, mid-album stretch of “The Czar” grows from a mediocre trot to a fantastic, churning of whirlpool riffs before watershedding into ascendant guitar solos.  Similiarly, the even-longer “The Last Baron” features a similar track, ending the album with savage frenzy and finality.

All this would seem out of place if the album wasn’t concerned with telling the tale of a quadriplegic casting his astral projection into the sky, shunting into the spirit realm after getting too close to the sun.  The concepts are insanely far-flung, and perfectly match the music.  The fact that they include two 10-minute-plus marathons on the album without breaking its flow is a testament to how refined and focused their songcraft is.  

Unfortunately, I find there is little lasting value to all this, albeit impressive, technical pageantry.  A great trip while it lasts,  it leaves little in its wake, not unlike the perfectly-paced action movie with few explosively memorable scenes.  I found few, if any hooks that sunk deeply; such is the difficulty with much of prog, and why so many people avoid or shun it altogether.  The fact that Mastodon has crafted something this enjoyable, if not distinctly memorable, is reason enough to celebrate it.

Label: Reprise

Release Date: Mar 24 2009

Track list:
1. “Oblivion”
2. “Divinations”
3. “Quintessence”
4. “The Czar: I. Usurper – II. Escape – III. Martyr – IV. Spiral”
5. “Ghost of Karelia”
6. “Crack the Skye” (Feat. Scott Kelly)
7. “The Last Baron”

Abiku. Not every sound they make is golden, but they are all enthralling.

Abiku’s Novelty consists of twenty-six songs, mostly falling between thirty seconds and two minutes, self-contained capsules of eerie synths, droning guitars, drum machines, and above all else, the most violent vocals maybe ever. Jarring doesn’t half describe the carnage this album leaves in its wake, having more in common with slasher films than conventional electronic music. Like those B-movies it references, the record is immediate, opting for concentrated bursts of fierce musical devastation, almost tangible textures, which, for all the music may lack in subtlety and focus, are momentarily startling, and occasionally exhilarating.

As I mentioned in my first MT6 piece (of shit, apparently), this isn’t music for everyone. I’m not sure who to recommend this album to…I don’t know who would enjoy sitting down and listening to this song by song, because also like those slasher movies, it covers the same ground for most of its running time, and what is at first encounter unsettling quickly becomes routine. Plus, it’s really difficult to hear the singer’s lyrics when she’s screaming most of the time, which is sad because the lyrics are really outstanding. As the record wears on the tracks gradually become more subdued and introspective, and the once-chainsaw synths take on more atmospheric tones, and it’s in the last quarter of the album that I find my favorite tracks. (It’s important to note, Novelty is a compilation of demos and singles from 2002 through 2005).

Lyrics range from “Did you hear about the arm that surfaced in the lake last week/It floated while the reeds were cut and no one knew where it was from/It was a girls’ but too deep in the jaws of the machine to save/It was gone it left no trace, no discoloration” (”Action Toy”) to “We found a paradise apart/A place to rest our hats and hearts/We rested well, grew fat on bread/And we went soft, we lost our edge” (”Zombie”). Really, the lyrics, once you read them, are the most impressive thing about the record.  But it’s maddeningly difficult to try to connect very much with them on account of the constant screaming.

The synth work is either oppressive (”Boxer,” “Just Like”) and haunting or bizarrely cloying (”Fairly,” “Proclomation”). Again, generally speaking the first half and then some is dominated by mostly alienating, uncomfortable sounds, but gradually becomes more comprehensible and digestible before the album’s close. The frenetic, epileptic beats slow a bit and thankfully, the screaming isn’t as gratuitous. Overall a really fine band, one I’d love to catch live sometime. The songs are captivating in theory but I think they are hurt a bit by the temper-tantrum delivery.

MP3: Radiant Dragon – Cloud Seeding

MP3: Girls – Lust for Life

MP3: Girls – Hellhole Ratrace

Sarah: Uncharacteristically silent until now. Queen of Hoxton gave me the willies. The neighborhood, Shoreditch, was awash with trendiness + suits. Bad vibes were just oozing all over.

Queen of Hoxton ceiling art

A very frat boy/Wall Street vibe. Hostility everywhere. Thousands of disco balls making me seasick as I tried to cross the room.

Too Many Flashing Lights! Barf!

After receiving a lecture about the propriety of sharing drums, it was discovered that we had no guitars, no bass, no phallic substitutes to play, just girly-man keyboards. Oh you could just feel the condescending stares from the jocked out techies sporting full sleeve tattoos and gelled up boy bangs.

Not to say that everyone there was a giant asshole. Larry from Radiant Dragon was a peach, very friendly, organized, and an all-around nice human being. Also Jack, the brains behind the show, was quite accommodating and pleasant. I’d share a coffee + pizza with either of these gentlemen. And the sound guy was ok too.

Larry from Radiant Dragon

Although we’d been told we were playing second, we ended up playing first to an almost empty venue. The keyboards were all squished onto one double-tiered stand with me and Dave/Nathan facing each other combat-style. I was a little worried about cracking skulls mid-song. Aggravatingly, we played a fantastic set. The crowd fleshed out a bit as we went on. For once, technical mishaps were curtailed and nothing fell over or malfunctioned. By this point though, I was through with this place and terribly peeved we bothered playing so well. I was looking for disaster, perhaps a reason to storm off the stage in disgust. Instead there were cheers and applause, and my sour mood felt rather unjustified. I hate wasting a good pout.

The headlining act, Girls, from somewhere western and stateside, was so out of my sphere of appreciation that I will decline to comment. The crowd liked them a lot. They would.

we <3 dolly parton

MP3: Cats In Paris – Get Out Of Jail Free Card

Dave again. I’ll handle the account of our trip up to the Midlands since I spent a good many months nestled in Central England a few years ago. First off–our Saturday night support slot in Nottingham:

Wallpaper eating Nathan in Brighton

After regaining consciousness that morning in Brighton, our brave entourage bid adieu to the lovely lads we’d been crashing with at the Grapevine. Saying our quiet, tip-toed goodbyes and thank yous to our hostel beastmates, we prepared to head back in the estate car towards London.

Riding shotgun, I insisted on listening to some Beach House to send us out on a cloud of nautical seaside bliss as we dieseled away, somewhat forlorn and extremely drained of energy, from the famous resort town in our Volkswagon rental. Navigating the roads became a lot easier as we got back into south London thanks to some A-Z London map-consultation and the iPhone of our de facto tour-manager, Benjamin, whose Stop Scratching cassette-label is re-issueing our tape. The excitement began to build once again.

After a quick bite to eat and some tea in London we were off again, streamlined and ready to hit up the Chameleon Cafe in Nottingham. Half the car began sleeping on the journey north through our playlist of Deerhunter and the newest Abe Vigoda EP jams. Undoubtedly, none of us could have imagined this time last year that we’d soon be sharing the stage with both those acts (especially me- going to physical therapy 2-3 times a week to rehab a shattered right elbow).

Arriving right on time to the venue and parking by the castle, probably one scaled by Robin Hood or Dave Chappelle back in the day, we made a more conscious effort to get our sound problems sorted out since we were actually on time and actually getting a soundcheck, but not before devouring a discounted bowl of some amazing grilled veggies over pasta, cooked for us by Nick, the man at the door. Although it seems that most sound-guys at smaller clubs in the UK are okay with running keyboards direct-in through the house PA system, there are always problems that arise with our four small, battery-powered wonders. Tonight was no exception, as Sarah’s keys were set down too low in the mix, and we accidentally had a few keyboards slightly out of tune. How does that even happen!? The honky-tonk chorus effect. The set went really well, despite these minor hurdles, and coming away from the small third-floor stage we felt our normal, ebullient selves. Whatever that is. I was thrilled to see a few of my old friends from my semester abroad in the crowd and we hung out for a bit during and after the show.

Hott or nott

Chameleon Cafe Nick Owner dude guy Art his this is

To recap the nights’ music, the openers at The Chameleon were a local student group called Sea Mullet. Despite having all that working against them, they actually weren’t too bad! Zinggg. The two singers harmonized fairly well together, and switched bass and guitar duties displaying their musicianship and knowledge of chord patterns during soundcheck and brief instrument swap-gaps between songs. Their new drummer played a full Roland digital drum kit while the lead singer held the attention of the crowd throughout and aptly triggered his own vocal effects (a stutter-delay, extra reverb) throughout a series of songs that could have fit well in a Hot Chip or Happy Mondays live set. They ended powerfully with a traditional folk tune, “Lowlands,” which centered around a beat featuring the digital kit’s steel-drum cadence.

The Week That Was. An indie-rock quartet from The Futureheads’ neck of the woods. Their indie power-pop reminded me something of Danish dream-proggers Mew (without the Ben Gibbard-esque whiny teardropping). The Newcastle/Geordie accent is so distinct that it’s difficult not to use their friends, The Futureheads, as a frame of reference, and the similarities between the two (plus the fact that this seemed like a side-project) likely prevents TWTW from getting nearly as massive. Like the openers, they, too, finished with a cover–John Cale’s “Fear (Is A Man’s Best Friend),” which immediately made me think of that great Arboretum/Pontiak split as the gig was ending and we had to pack up all our equipment. We definitely miss Baltimore, but England has been a blast so far. We’ve had the opportunity to play with and meet a lot of great bands.  One who was in attendance at this particular show, Lovvers, who have in the past year or so toured with buzz bands Times New Viking, Jay Reatard, Abe Vigoda, and Los Campesinos!, will be storming Baltimore for Whartscape on July 18th!!! Brace yourselves!

Our show the next day in Birmingham seemed like a blur, and I’ll keep it shorter than our Notts trip. We started off the morning heading off from a large but untidy student-house in Nottingham, full of wonderful people but no hot water for showers.

Matthew (my old friend from Uni and our driver) arranged for us to meet up with an old flatmate of his in Leicester, and got us all hot showers and tea. The sun was out after a brief spell of morning rain, and we had a good Sunday roast over at my old local, The Soar Point, adjacent to the river I used to overlook each morning at breakfast five years before.

We headed into a city difficult to navigate, home to the infamous Spaghetti Junction. Thankfully, we found our way to the venue and got the closest possible parking space. We were able to get this gig at the Sunflower Lounge last-minute since Benjamin used his Brum booking connections. That said, we were slid right before an incredible trio called Cats in Paris. The three other bands that went on before us, including Between Us and The Fire, had their moments, but I felt like for the most part bands had brought waaaay too much equipment to such a small venue. The band that went on before us (”A poor man’s Metronomy,” as someone put it) seemed primed to play a stadium venue with all the keyboards and pedals they had strewn about.

Our sound was a disaster. The soundman, a Russell Brand lookalike, could not seem to get anything close to the correct levels on our keys, even after I opted to send my low-end through Cats in Paris’ bass amp. We plowed through our tunes, packed up and prepared to be treated to a set from Cats in Paris. They were very engaging to watch, and had thankfully brought their own soundman and AV. The bearded lead singer appeared to be pulling the Michael McDonald finger-to-the-ear move to get his vocals in tune, when in actuality he was more than likely just sliding his glasses back into place when his hands had a free moment.

The man was a virtuoso, wielding both a violin and two tiers of keyboards, while the bassist and drummer were certainly up to the task of carrying out his complex compositions. The visuals projected behind the band switched between comic book cartoonishness and black and white clips conveying childhood imagination, and unified the arpeggiated video-game synths with the rich tones of the violin, doubled and looped. Apparently they had even more members that were not there, and I excitedly shudder to think what else they would unleash with an expanded lineup. They could easily fit onto any Wham City Round-Robin lineup, and would appeal to fans of Man Man and They Might Be Giants alike. Result!

MP3: Teeth Mountain – Ghost Science from Teeth Mountain (2007)

MP3: Dan Deacon – Padding Ghost from Bromst (2009)

All Photos: the inimitable institution, Josh Sisk (full set here)

Dan Deacon is hitting up Sonar on June 13th, I suggest that you seek out tickets.

Editor’s note: Or you could enter to win tickets from Aural States.  Check back in just a few days.

Out in rural Carroll County where I reside, there’s a powerful stigma behind the idea of Baltimore. It brings up connotations of dimly lit streets, frightening murder-prone men behind every corner, and the Inner Harbor existing as an oasis of “real citydom” in the midst of it all. Needless to say, most of my country-bumpkin peers aren’t very familiar with the town. However, if they just so happened to have been at the 9:30 Club this past Sunday night, I’m sure their minds would have completely eliminated that sinister reputation, replacing it with one of ecstatic joy.

The night kicked off with a few middle-school-age kids playing Strokes-inspired tunes to an eager reception. They never gave out a band name, nor a reason why they were there, but their ambitious cover of “A Day In the Life” was more than enough to impress the skeptical audience. The always-original Teeth Mountain followed, prepared with three noisy experimental jams whose sonic delivery brought even the resistant balcony-dwellers’ bones to an uneasy chill. Still, the crowd remained stiff, many seated, basking in the hordes of dissonant percussion and distorted instrumentation of all shapes and sizes.

It was only when Future Islands appeared, being a Deacon-described “feet” band, that the populated upper level of 9:30 diffused to the larger floor. Shelling out easy-yet-imaginative, 80’s-wave influenced tunes, the frenetic blasts of vocalist Sam Herring contrasted with the enjoyable familiarity of his backing. They’re always a solid contribution to any lineup. I remember looking back at a friend of mine, her eyes wildly glazed, mouth half open, enjoying music so loud that you forget how stupid you look dancing to it.

After Future Islands’ set, things really started to heat up (literally as well as figuratively). It took roughly 15 to 30 minutes for Dan Deacon’s fifteen-person ensemble to arrange their diverse collection of instruments, during which the impatient audience became united in a way that I have yet to experience elsewhere. We were all bored, listening to the between-set songs, wishing that our favorite goofy electronics guru would take the stage. It was really quite mundane until someone decided to play Seal over the PA system, when it soon became apparent that we should (ironically) chant right along with. I think we all noticed that everyone else was shouting along as loudly as they could, being that the audience was clearly drowning out the volume of the speakers. To accentuate the absurd effect of our cohesion, every once in awhile the sound guy would turn down the master volume. There was a sense of mutual-admiration for one another, that we all knew of and were content with each other’s presence.  A mood perfectly suited for Dan Deacon’s epic brand of electro-pop.

Even our Danny boy sung along to “No Rain” as he took the stage, beginning his set with a tale about George Costanza and some wicked Taz tattoos. (NPR has the full concert, including the story streaming, because I know you’re interested). He lead off with “Get Older,” and stuck with material chiefly from his latest, Bromst, for the show’s totality, only getting off track for the very welcome “Crystal Cat” and “Wham City.”

Of course, Dan had all of his Deaky little tricks, including a dance-off (starring Space Ghost), a poorly executed but brilliantly conceptualized activity called Gauntlet, some hands-on-head reflection, and everyone’s yearly dosage of guided sing-along. The already-harmonious group was quick to play along with his games, which made the music almost secondary to the crowd interaction.

I think we all already know that Dan Deacon is a good time, so I don’t need to tell you about how he creates a uniquely euphoric atmosphere, or about how delightful of a person he appears to be. The whole show had a nostalgic tinge, what with it being the last stop on the tour. It came to a worn-out finale with the anthemic “Wham City” (underlying some of Mr. Deacon’s wonderful circuit-bent jamming). Like Bromst, Deacon’s presentation at the 9:30 showed a new side to his music. Those last few minutes of improvised synthesizer orchestration yearned for home, the few-miles-away Baltimore. Maybe it was the profound amount of fatigue I was experiencing, but I still think that the final moments of this concert were simply moving, to say the very least. To miss one of Deacon’s shows, especially one with the Bromst ensemble, would be a mistake that you wouldn’t want to make.

MP3: Wye Oak – For Prayer from Live Set @ Aural States Fest 2009

MP3: Pomegranates – Corriander from Everybody, Come Outside! (2009)

MP3: Pomegranates – Beachcomber from Everybody, Come Outside! (2009)

Cakes of Light have a sound that lies somewhere along the desolate backroads of noise folk.  Their music unfurls with a weight and gravitas that feels mostly mesmerizing and entrancing, but at times overbearing and overwrought.  Never quite reaching the level of histrionics, but inching ever dangerously closer and closer to that edge.  Interesting, spacious music, but not a fan of the vocals…so I was a fan of the concept, but not the entire execution.

Pomegranates were positively explosive, their energy building and building until it boils over, the increasingly frantic music wriggling through and possessing each member’s body, emerging as anthemic shouts or abrupt outbursts of physicality (at one point, someone mounted the half-wall stage-right and catapulted themselves from it).  Their growth and elated release is not unlike that of Arcade Fire, down to the urgent vocal stylings that bear no small similarity to Win Butler’s.  The difference here is that you never once wonder if Pomegranates feel and believe every word and note, unlike the Arcade Fire, who are often found on the other side of the too-thespian boundary line (partially due to their big draw now putting them on the big theater stages, but I digress).

The sharp, staccato guitar and bass lines pluck their way finely through each song, as if a brightly-colored thread woven by a fine sewing needle, popping out from the compositions while somehow still stitching everything together.  They facilely switch modes from ambient, dreamweavers creating in broad and expansive textures not out of place in the gaziest of shoegaze, to propulsive and visceral passages that err on the side of angular and technical.  The energy level reached its peak as they closed the set (and their tour with Wye Oak) with the rollicking barnburner “Southern Ocean,” fitted with an immediate hook and a playful, warmly welcoming hoot-and-holler vocal breakdown that opens into the shout-along chorus anchored by the emphatic words “We’re not scared anymore.”  Backed by Jenn Wasner on backup vocals/tambourine, the Poms closed a great set in fantastic fashion.

Wye Oak just keep getting better and better.  Every time I see them, they raise the bar and blow the roof off the venue.  This time was no different.  After touring and recording The Knot, Jenn and Andy are remarkably comfortable in their skin and stage performance.  Gone are the jitters and anxious giddiness of performances past; in their place, they exude a strong self-assurance and a relaxed glee and joy.  They were clearly excited to be home.

Their forthcoming LP The Knot is a powerhouse of emotion and music, building on their debut If Children in all the right ways and places.  Their compositions for the new album show Jenn getting bolder with her guitar work and more dynamic with her vocals, and Andy getting more finessed and diverse with his texturing of all manner of sounds, from percussion to keyboards to drones to harmonium (and violin and pedal steel make notable, rich contributions as well).

The result is truly epic grandeur.

This treatment  gives new life and depth to their live set, yielding refreshing accents of old standards like “Family Glue,” while really soaring on newer tracks like “For Prayer” and “Take It In” that incorporated these elements from their genesis.  Combined with their building stage confidence and much tighter symbiosis, they take you on a truly affecting musical journey, replete with lofty peaks, chasmic valleys and all intermediate variations.

An absolutely crushing, down-tempo rendition of “Warning” closed their set.  Andy took a break from his multi-instrumental orgy to let Jenn start off the track and set the tempo: slow and spare, with only vocals and guitar.  Andy hopped up after a few verses and phased in a soul-shaking variant of the noisy squall found on the recorded version.  The more intense and textured drone was brought to the fore in this rendition, starting as a deep, soft baritone that grew to an immersive mass.  The re-imagined track was their second encore of the night, and it left everyone aching for more.

Wye Oak

Pomegranates

MT6

There really isn’t any comparison between what the popular record considers experimental or lo-fi, and what comes out of MT6. However abrasive Thurston Moore is playing guitar with a drill, it’s still not as jarring as the majority of MT6’s releases. Jason Willett and Jad Fair you might have heard before, but they are only the tip of a jagged, shadowy iceberg.

There’s sometimes a tendency in musical criticism, or whatever it is I do on afternoons off with a CD player and wordpad, to reduce a band down to a few easy comparisons. Some people get up in arms about this practice and some don’t worry much; I tend to fall in the latter camp, because name dropping is frankly the best way to turn people on to new music.

With these MT6 Records, pointing out those grazing touches of influence isn’t rewarding, mostly because the vast majority of what I’ve heard from this label has no concern whatsoever for influence or fitting into a historical setting. It is very much music for the moment it is made, and the moment you hear it. You won’t hum these songs to yourself in the morning when you wake up. In fact, I’d wager that 99% of people wouldn’t be inclined to listen to these songs more than once.

The first bit for review, because it’s the first thing I listened to, is the MT6 Early 2009 Sampler. When I first sat down, I attempted to take careful notes as I listened to each song, and while I enjoyed some (and absolutely loathed others), more than anything I found myself completely bewildered as to how to review the material.

So I did what came kind of unnaturally to me.

Ignoring my critical English-major background, in the grand tradition of Lester Bangs, I drank a few beers, (get it, “empty six?”), etc, etc, and let fly with the notion that every edit is a lie, a notion this record label obviously appreciates. So love it or hate it, I honestly don’t care, this is what went through my brain at the time of hearing these songs. I can’t say that I actually enjoyed more than a few of the tracks on the sampler, but that’s something I feel fine with, because I can’t imagine anyone being all for all of these songs without being criminally insane or completely unable to define what they enjoyed.

(arranged alphabetically because, although it makes a good reference, I can’t imagine anyone would feel the desire to read this all the way through)

MP3: Abiku. “Novelty”. Abiku is murdering techno. So many of these songs sound like somebody was dying in the background when they were made and this is no exception? The singer has one of the most impressive girl screams on the planet. She sounds like an animal dying. I hope she gets a role in the next Friday the 13th movie.

MP3: The Agrarians. “The Mirror Travels Above The Ocean”. I honestly have a bit of a bias for this band because they recorded across the street from where I grew up. Litereally. I grew up at 1414 Hull Street in Locust Point, and this song was recorded in what was formerly the crackhouse adjacent to my dad’s old favorite bar Joe and Jen’s at 1359 Hull St. Matt, if you’re reading, I don’t think we ever met, but are you Bobby Perzinski’s son? You kind of sound like Jim Morrison. Nice job. Represent.

Animal Twat. “Fuck Your Cocaine”. Like if GBV played alt-metal riffs and had idiotic lyrics. I can’t be sure but if this is supposed to be a play on words; if it is, it’s an explicitly poor and unfunny one. And if it isn’t supposed to be, it certainly comes off that way.

Bad Liquor Pond. “PainKiller”. This sound is downright conventional, the only band yet not to declare war on eardrums. Just enough of a four minute tease before sending you back to the noise fascists with a soft-on for a real song. Definitely the standout track on the CD. I hope more people take notice of this band.

Balance. “44″. Unbelievably uninteresting loop. At 4:51, the longest song on the sampler and it feels like every second.

Blakk Sweat. “Strange Mouth”. Very soporific qualities to the music on display here. Actually fairly pleasant, but not exactly attention grabbing. Par for the course.

Can Openers. “You Can’t See Me”. Thurston Moore was so conventional that he played guitar with a drill bit. These songs are actually household appliances played with a guitar. Robots can play that shit. Robots are playing that shit. What an undeniably fucked up track.

CAVEMEN!!!. “Cut the Tank”. Lots of screaming and poor recording quality. Not too fun.

Chief Pokawa. “Baked”. Really? I personally stopped finding marijuana fun when I was about 18, but now I like it even less since it’s on a mix with so many bands who are probably enamored with more terrifying psychedelics. You should smoke this at the end as a comedown.

Chin Forces. “Transport”. Breaking out the Death Cab riffs, then trashing them with some slasher guitars. Ballsy. No vocals. Could have been better with vocals.

Cream Center. “This Song Is About Fucking Dragons”. Has a hint of texture, which is a nice thing for a band to be attentive to. Fairly one-dimensional, though. I wish the song went somewhere and that they bothered to record the singer in a way that I could understand the lyrics. I don’t know why so many of the singers on this record want to sound like cartoons.

Decapitated Hed. “Blood on Hands, Poop on Dancefloor”. A pretty satisfying display of rhythmic consciousness makes this track a standout. But, as with many of these songs, I wish more happened. You’ve got four minutes of my time. Don’t give me the same thirty seconds over and over.

Dirt. “Where are the meesers?”. Has some interesting sounds and great juxtaposition of the female lyrics with the rhythm (she occasionally could be mistaken for Bjork) but lacks any kind of changes in instrumentation, dynamics, or tone. Plus the lyrics are just retarded. And what an unimaginative band name. They so stole the name from the second Alice In Chains album.

Engine. “Practice Makes Purple”. Sub-interesting tribal noise experiments. But its not really that noisy, just has a few boring noises strung together.

MP3: Jad Fair and Jason Willet. “Or So I’ve Been Told”. The two biggest names to have become with MT6. Bouncy arcade music with an insane ringleader conducting the circus. It’s hard to consistently make music this off the wall so satisfying, and these guys have their fair share of bad apples, but they’re still batting way better than anyone else.

Pat Grant. “Expectation Blues”. Fairly boring and stagnant ballad. Tiny alterations in the vocal harmonies sustain the song.

Hazardous Guadalupe. “AudioVisual Education”. This song gets my vote as the worst on here. I’m usually not so glib as to completely trash a band because most bands have done more with their musical abilities than I ever have. But I can confidently say I’ve made better music than this. So could you. Have you ever whistled tunefully? Drummed your fingers on the tabletop? You’ve done better than Hazardous Guadalupe.

Heroin UK. “ShitStorm”. What is this AC/DC cock-rock. Whatever. I at least appreciate the attempt at making a real song, even if it is only a few of the most basic alt-rock chords.

Herschel Hoover. “Opener”. Standard angular melodies and driving riffs. Another of the few normal sounding songs on the record. Pretty well done.

Human Host. “Hatched”. Where else to begin. Insano metal acid trip gone bad kinds of guitars, but that’s not really fair because most bad acid is more fun than this song. Reminds me of the first time I listened to Sebadoh’s Smash Your Head on the Punk Rock and “Crysis” came blaring from the speakers. Except that song let up at some point. And so does acid.

Le Harmacy. “2″. Sorry no Sebadoh references here. This is minimalistic prog-rock atonality. Definitely the truest to experimental rock of the 70s. Not quite a classical influence but definitely a hearken back to the jazz-fusion (especially on bass) that dominated that style’s predisposition towards shitty mainland European confusion rock. Thanks NEU!

MP3: Rickman. “Hard 2 Be Me”. This kind of sounds like it could be a Beatles riff that opens the song. The rest is pure acoustic weirdness. Not a bad little song with a cool structure. But is there anything worse than using a “2″ to say “to”?

Rosemary Krust. “For Today”. Takes us on another transcendent trip through “The Black Angel’s Death Song.”  Hardly the voice of an angel though. Pretty creepy track.

Newagehillbilly. “Sonic Rehab”. MT6’s head honcho Alex Strama’s latest project. Alex should have the Natty Boh tattoo replaced with a DMT plant. Lo-fi death trip music.

Talibam. “3″. Tuneless excuses for making noise. I honestly won’t remember this track more than a few minutes from now so why bother describing it.

Whistletips. “Excerpt”. There’s so little to this song I can’t really describe it. Some kind of feedback loop at very low frequency. It sounds like something Tool would have put between songs to make them seem like they were really mysterious.

MP3: Jason Willett. “SRIURFXRET96″. The kind of noise collage I’ve come to expect from Willet. I prefer my songs to have fewer stitches and more transitions. Still a fun run down the sonic pastiche spine.

The Wire Orchestra. “Square Roots”. Very patience draining. Occasionally alarming. Mostly a boring story with some occasionally comic lines.

It fucking rains in England.

Shoot for the stars and punch the moon in the face.

Alright, lets play some catchup… We spent an extra night in Exeter. Awoke to a slight drizzle. Soaked us to the bone as we walked a 1/2 a mile to the train station. 3.5 hours to London. Fake jerky and fruit leather all day. We’re sweatin’ we won’t make our Brighton show. Dave’s friend, Matt, rents a car and picks us up from the Waterloo train station in London. We met with Benjamin beforehand. Him and Cassie just spent the past several nights working diligently on our “Stop Scratching” tape. Quick 2 Brighton! Great Escape or Great Trap?

No street signs. One way streets. The roundabout. Circles? What are circles?

BRIGHTON
The San Francisco of England. Hilly and gay. We played Revenge.. equipped with a nice weiner catwalk. Flamboyant security guards. I wanted 2 set my drums upon the head of the cock… Dave and Sarah flanking me at the back.. Standing ready for aural intercourse with the masses… and wow, they sure showed up. Despite us being extremely late (showing up 10minutes b4 the doors opened), and going on without soundcheck. The show was fun and met with a positive response though the crowd was rather somber and reserved.

Time for a tag-team post a la site-contributors Alex Mudge/Caleb Moore back in October…

David C. Section here, ready to give you a run-through of the 3 London bands on the No Pain In Pop (remember the name) compilation you WILL be hearing more from in 2009…

Trailer Trash Tracys: Even before Pitchfork gave them the nod I was into their song, “Strangling Good Guys.” Songs began simply enough, many times seeming familiar to shoegaze of the mid-80s/early 90s, Lou Reed or Suicide, but would quickly layer, sweeping in like warm seafoam waves; really quite a fitting sound for a venue overlooking Brighton’s famous beach and brightly-lit pier. Their Debbie Harry-esque vocalist, Susanne, provided a soothingly sedate melodic center to the drone of mid-range guitar as what could be seen of the sunlight faded. The bass and snare timbres of the trigger-pad drums were certainly reminiscent of MBV’s cut-and-paste constructive approach, and chipped through the mid-range guitar undertoe. However, most impressive and expressive were Adam Jaffrey’s basslines, whose grimey garage tones and placement oftentimes independent of the drums really drove the TTT’s sound.

A Grave with No Name: This London trio took the stage with a scaled-back drum set-up and looked similar to a band that might have opened up for Mudhoney in the early 90s. Their sound did not reflect the grunge aesthetic, with the singer’s delicately melodic vocal range certainly cutting through and floating above the cacophony. The band appeared to be having a rough night with the sound, as were every other band to be honest. Although the audience, myself included, enjoyed all the acts, the sound here wasn’t great, even when attempting to capture the more lofi aesthetics of the first three bands. AGWNN seemed particularly frustrated, starting and stopping songs. Overall, it was still an enjoyable slice of sludgey fuzzed-out rock.

The XX: The nights’ headliners, London four-piece The XX, seemed to bring many devoted fans up to the front of the stage. Nathan noticed their “super ugly hip London haircuts,” which seemed to harken back to high and tight, tiered bowl-cut fade, unisexx hairstyles my mom tried to shield me from in my impressionable pre-K days. Sedate melancholy beats within atmospheric pop dance songs, set off by some cool finger-touch drums stage right and solid male/female vocal interplay. A bit like contemporaries CocoRosie or Telepathe, but with a sombre R&B duet kind of feel and not devoid of ebullience. As I’ve said, the sound and equipment here at Revenge was not the greatest, but, following a microphone cutting out near the end of the set, a forced mic-share between the tall and slender male bassist and the petite female guitarist was a beautful electro-goth moment if ever there was one.

Afterthoughts on Brighton, the No Pain In Pop stage at Revenge, and The Great Escape: Not enough time! I really wish we’d been able to venture around a bit more that night, or at least been able to see our friends Gentle Friendly play before Zach Hill of Hella, and Black Lips on Thursday (*I’ve since heard that Jared is in jail in the UK at the moment for repeatedly hurling a sandbag at a car*) or some of the groups going on at the weekend like Dananananaykroyd (wait, was that enough “ans?”). We were set to follow Daniel of GF over to the Abe Vigoda show, but we missed it and instead went to a greasy spoon 24-hour caf to eat our very first meal of the day at 11:00pm.

Make it a point to track down the most recent No Pain In Pop compilation, featuring our own homegrown talent, Ponytail! This is a great independent label/promotions venture whose “top brass” have been really supportive of us (with Tom K and Kev even letting us crash with them in their packed hostel room that night! Thank you again, beastmates). Taking in the seaside air was refreshing after a long, arduous journey, but it was too cold, drizzly, and windy to even consider going to the beach, riding around on vespas, or hitting up the pier; still, between seeing the bands at the NPIP stage, spotting the drummer of the Mae Shi harrassing a bouncer twice his size outside a party he was supposed to DJ, and flying by the seat of our pants and living by the skin of our gnashing teeth, Brighton did not disappoint.

Stay tuned for our review of the Midlands weekend, Deerhunter, and future London shows with TTT’s, GF, Abe Vigoda, The Mae Shi, and many more!!!

I have an unabashed, unashamed respect for the Shins, a band who, along with Death Cab for Cutie, have defined what it means to be a successful, popular, and critically-respected indie band.

They’ve been featured in coloring books, gotten a shout-out from Natalie Portman in what was surely one of the wimpiest movies of all time, and I’m told are the second best-selling artist on Sub Pop (I assume behind Sebadoh). Which basically means they’re pretty old hat by now, and if you’re reading this you’ve no doubt already been exposed to them and you either love or hate or feel ambivalent about them. Their sound is pretty, bordering on cute at times, but much like Belle & Sebastian before them (or perhaps more like The Smiths to go back a bit farther), the understated music is subservient to the lyrics, which happen to be some of the most well-put in rock music.

Delta Spirit (who opened) you may have heard less about.  Their album Ode to Sunshine (2008) was an impressive debut, full of some really soulful tracks with Matt Vasquez belting impassioned, if relatively straightforward lyrics (not unlike Nathan Willet from Cold War Kids). A really good opener for The Shins, with their upbeat, rollicking country folk-by-way-of-California pop songs. More of a proper band than the Shins (who clearly are a vehicle for James Mercer), Delta Spirit had an impressive stage presence; all the band’s members had an invigorating energy. Young band fervor mixed with mid-twenties confidence. Some real foot stompers and sing-along opportunities, but the mostly thirty-something crowd at the Ram’s Head were pretty motionless, or maybe they just didn’t know any of the songs.

James Mercer and his considerably taller bandmates played a set mixed from all their albums, but not really loaded with favorites (I really wanted “Girl Sailor,” but oh well), all the while managing to keep those Oxford shirts tucked and clean. As far as those acclaimed lyrics go, I don’t know if anyone else could go on stage and deliver  a poetic gem like “Red Rabbits” undaunted’: “Out of a gunnysack fall red rabbits/Into the crucible to be rendered an emulsion/And we can’t allow a chance they’d restore themselves”.

Furthermore, Mercer’s love-as-sea voyage metaphors are singularly imaginative and alienating.  While most people would probably consider the Shins a happy band, the lyrics seem genuinely fed up with the protocols of modern living (but I guess one of the nice things about playing in a band is that you don’t have to pay attention to those as much). Musically most people probably dismiss them as pushers of simple major chord progressions, which is half true.  But under scrutiny, the band has an uncanny, McCartney-like ability to make shimmering pop songs out of what are actually very complex chord structures. They played a few covers of the Beach Boys, Neil Young, The Beta Band, and of course, James Gang, because “Funk 49″ has apparently become the coolest song to cover lately. A few new songs were even premiered, which seem a bit more rockin’ and up-tempo upon first impression.

I have, on occasion, complained about the acoustics at Rams Head, but now I think that the first couple shows I saw there might have been bad apples. The quieter, less distorted, and decidedly more rhythmically and lyrically focused bands sound on point at Rams Head.  Even still, it’s probably not going to be the place to see bands who rely on big dynamic textures or guitar heroics, which is why Built to Spill and the Meat Puppets disappointed, and I imagine Dinosaur Jr. would as well. But I always liked that band better on record than live. I don’t see a point to posting anything from the Shins, so here’s the new Dinosaur song.

J’s vocals are really incredible. The guitars are a little more mid-range than I prefer, they don’t have that sunlight shattering through the haze of a forest floor kind of quality they used to, but shit they’re still really good for being like, y’know, dinosaurs:

MP3: Dinosaur Jr. – Over It

MP3: Animal Collective – Who Could Win A Rabbit

MP3: Animal Collective – Summertime Clothes

Animal Collective’s cult-like status was built on elements like their masked press photos and indecipherable lyrics, but the stuff of legend was found in their live performances. For all previous tours, the trio would use their live shows to preview tracks from upcoming releases…which is why anybody who saw them tour off of Strawberry Jam probably heard “My Girls” before it was remixed by a thousand DJs. Furthermore, interviews with the band revealed that not only had they lost or destroyed the samples of a lot of their older material…but that they’d actually forgotten the words to some of their fans’ favorite songs. So, if you really liked that one song off of Sung Tongs and couldn’t wait to see it live…you’d probably have to keep waiting.

Yet, based on their performance Sunday night, Avey Tare, Panda Bear and Geologist appear to have thrown some of this dogma out of the window. Although they played one unreleased track, “Blue Sky,” and added in some unfamiliar harmonies, the set was decidedly Merriweather Post Pavilion heavy. Furthermore, those older tracks that they don’t play…they played. By the time they hit MPP standout “Summertime Clothes,” they’d already opened with “Chocolate Girl” off of Spirit They’re Gone, Spirit They’ve Vanished and played Sung Tongs’ sentimental favorite “Who Could Win a Rabbit?” It was played in the style of Merriweather Post Pavilion, but it was still Who Could Win a freaking Rabbit, which I’d been under the impression that they didn’t play anymore. 

Then there was the onstage chemistry. When they made it to Chicago off of the Strawberry Jam tour, the songs were inarguably fantastic but the three members of the band all seemed to be in different places and on different agendas, and the set had lived or died by the energy of Avey Tare. Sunday night, all three of them seemed to be on the same page. Geologist was the most energetic body on the stage, with his bobbing upper body moving almost as quickly as his fingers, and all three seemed to be having fun onstage. Avey Tare made the comment that they like playing small shows and, although the small Ottobar stage seemed to limit the amount of open space between all of the tables, light fixtures and drums, no one ever appeared cramped.

Grouper, their opener for the remainder of the American tour had a show in Portland on Sunday night, we got Daniel Higgs as an opener. It’s definitely easy to see the vocal lineage between Higgs and Avey Tare as Higgs’ harrowing voice filled the room. His first track (which he said actually had about twenty more verses) lasted roughly fifteen minutes and had him solely on a squeezebox. It was enough for the people in the first fifteen rows who remained silent throughout his set, and actually told people to shut up as the crowd closer to the bar ignored the freak-folk local. 

People were not so quiet during the Animal Collective set. The crowd got progressively bouncier throughout the set and the sing-alongs started as early as “Leaf House,” but truly reached fever pitch at set closer “Brother Sport.” By the time they closed out the encore with “My Girls,” the crowd erupted into a dance party that looked akin to a drum circle in the middle of the floor…and lasted far after Animal Collective had left the stage. Everyone seemed to understand that the band had outgrown the confines of the Ottobar and that shows this intimate probably wouldn’t happen again in the near future. 

The very concept of Edie Sedgwick is one that deserves ample discussion. To save some precious time, here are a few words on the subject from our good friend Greg: “DC’s Edie Sedgwick is a unique performer that you might say bears little in common with his namesake.  The original Sedgwick was a socialite actress most recognized for starring in Andy Warhol films. The Sedgwick in question purports to be the original’s transgendered reincarnation and is signed, interestingly enough, to legendary Dischord Records.”

He’s not kidding.

Things are Getting Sinister and Sinisterer (Sedgwick’s latest offering from Dischord) appears, at first glance, to be constituted primarily of watered-down dance-punk and vocals that bring to mind the yelpy likes of The Rapture. But upon a more in-depth listen, you will find yourself entrenched in something unexpectedly enchanting. Possessing an atypical, under-the-radar disposition, “Red Dawn” is the chief purveyor of this quality, its bass-synth tag team providing a surplus of melancholy and the footing for a few rounds of anthemic chorusing.

Loopy basslines and post-punk percussion are found on just about every track of Sinister and Sinisterer, which makes the power-packed vocals sound all the more affluent (and the artist’s label choice, thus unsurprising). The bass-drums combination, however, gives all that it underlies a desultory feel. There’s never a sense of direction, aside from that of “Edie Sedgwick II,” where cooing vocals and a reminiscence of old Smashing Pumpkins maintain some air of intention (even if the song seems like a red-headed step-child compared to the album as a whole).

Climaxes are rare here, breakdowns even more so. And don’t even think about a crescendo. “Angelina Jolie”  meanders indefinitely during its three-minute lifespan with a uniform bass reptition and four or five varied vocal bits intermittingly. Time becomes dragged out and degraded when passing through the album’s tracklisting for just this reason. You imagine every song should end before its allotted time, even though the track would much prefer to ramble on in its own right. It’s almost like being caught behind the guy who insists on driving exactly the speed limit, which proves to be infuriating at its worst.

There does exist a bank of truly interesting sound on Sinister and Sinisterer. “Sissy Spacek” sports a rad guitar bit in its last minute, while “March of the Penguins” uses jazzy keyboards at random throughout its whole. I just wish that Edie Sedgwick would choose to use these clips more often, as they tend to be the most enthralling bit of the song.

Regardless of how infrequent these distinctive fragments of audio are, when they merge with their foundational mathy beats, the result leads me to label Sinister and Sinisterer as a study in copy/paste art. During the more robotic jams such as “Anthony Perkins,” it becomes apparent that Edie Sedgwick finds the broken record method equally effective in situations not relating to drug abstinence, which if you ask me, is really not the best decision in this case.

However unpleasant this may sound, many moments make Sinister and Sinisterer worth listening to. Emerging at the album’s close, “Rob Lowe” uses all of these methods to create something essentially enjoyable. Bumping and bouncing with the power and determination of a broken mechanical bull, its collection of audio clips coalesces in a way that just isn’t found elsewhere. Its dance-with-chaos character turns out to be a favorable way to end the record (because otherwise you’d feel like you just went through 34 futile minutes of frustration).

What then can be said in conclusion about Edie Sedgwick? You could point out that by closing with “Red Dawn,” “Rob Lowe,” and “Edie Sedgwick II,” they’re humane at the very least. You might also suggest that they probably make for a great time live. I’d say they just need to favor their prime material, being that the rest of their stuff will only get them as far as vague Tom Vek and Clor references (also, that I still don’t understand what the song titles have to do with the content, but that’s of no consequence now).

Label: Dischord Records

Release Date: May 15 2008

Track list:

1. Sissy Spacek
2. Mary-Kate Olsen
3. Angelina Jolie
4. Anthony Perkins
5. March of the Penguins
6. Bambi_G.W. Bush
7. ODB
8. Red Dawn
9. Rob Lowe
10. Edie Sedgwick II

Head over heels

MP3: Baby Venom – Frank

MP3: Baby Venom – Moms and Dads

We are about to go on our first ever tour. Our first ever shows outside of Baltimore City.

We = Baby Venom.  From left to right: Natal Duncan, Davey C. Section, Sarah Bortion.

You will hear about our experiences on tour for the next month (spoiler alert: we’re playing with Deerhunter May 18th!).

There’s a strange pattern of listenership between Dirty Projectors and myself. Here’s generally how it works: every few months I excitedly stumble upon one of their albums at some miscellaneous record shop. I’ll take it home, cherish the album art that the indie gods have bestowed upon me, set my player on repeat, and amongst the other indistinct tunes, I’ll find one sole outstanding track that absolutely dominates my musical interests like a newly acquired puppy.

For example: the beauty-saturated The Glad Fact’s most sincere track (“Lit From Below”) ran through my speakers for the majority of last January, whereas the grand harmonies of “Not Having Found” played the same role for The Getty Address last June. Over a year and a half after my first experience with Dirty Projectors, “Rise Above” still hasn’t vanished from my play cue, and that’s all I’ll say about that. It’s always been worth the trouble to shuffle through Dave Longstreth’s discography for these rare tracks, which is exactly the state of mind I utilized while first listening to Bitte Orca.

Lead Projector Dave Longstreth has well-established musical prowess in most, if not all, independent music circles. His latest work, Bitte Orca, has been far more anticipated than anything he’s previously released (what with the recent David Byrne collaboration “Knotty Pine” getting some serious positive feedback). As it turns out, Bitte Orca takes the fragmented wonderbits of Longstreth’s past, and grinds them all together in a giant experimental blender. It helps the would-be-challenging pieces of music get through to the listener much more readily than anything off of their previous works. And to be honest, Dirty Projectors damn well deserve the hype for that reason alone.

Bitte Orca is definitely the Dirty Projectors’ pop album if they’ll ever make one, evidenced by the radio-ready beats of single “Stillness Is The Move.” The track is an experimental-R&B-dance-pop crockpot confection whose mix’n’match magnificence might have been credited completely to luck if we hadn’t known that Mr. Longstreth’s got more than chance on his side. Though the disjointed guitar estranges the listener upon the first listen, and that funky-as-hell opening vocal line doesn’t help, the closing repetitions are sung with so much heart that it’s hard to deny the Projectors their merit.

Overall, the album sounds more comprehensive than anything else I’ve heard by Dave Longstreth’s bunch. The unadorned splendor of “Two Doves,” precedes the entrancing harmonic radiance of album masterwork “Useful Chamber” and makes for an entirely flawless midsection. “Temecula Sunrise” presents a chorus more powerful than the devil’s hot sauce, with shiverworthy guitarwork right alongside.

Ever listen to a song so many times in a row that you feel bad for the people around you? That’s how the larger portion of this album works (if you’re not into this stuff, at least take a listen to “Useful Chamber” ‘cause, sweet Lord, that shit’s hot).

Bitte Orca is really, at its roots, an album wholly comprised of songs made to reign supreme over my musical attention span in just this way. It’s more immediately catchy than anything else Dirty Projectors have released, and as such, it works as an ideal introduction into their particular brand of vocal wizardry. Without sacrificing his artistic vision for a second, Dave Longstreth turns his much-admired talents to the accessible side of things on Bitte Orca. Hats off to Dirty Projectors here, this is clearly one for the best-of lists.

Label: Domino

Release Date: June 9 2009

Track list:

1. Cannibal Resource
2. Temecula Sunrise
3. The Bride
4. Stillness Is the Move
5. Two Doves
6. Useful Chamber
7. No Intention
8. Remade Horizon
9. Fluorescent Half Dome

MP3: Frodus – Psaurcacneosisa

In honor of Baltimore’s Frodus Friday, here is their 1998 LP Conglomerate International in its entirety.  Click on the album cover above to download.  If you love it, buy the reissue from Gilead.

Memorize the words.  Shout along at the packed show tonight, Talking Head, 8PM doors.

MP3: Frodus – Suspicion Breeds Confidence from Split 7″ with Trans-megetti(1996)

MP3: Frodus – Explosions from Explosions 7″ (1997)

MP3: Frodus – Lights On For Safety from Frodus/Roadside Monument Split (1997)

MP3: Frodus – Invisible Times Lines from Muddle Magazine Promo Flexi 7″ (1997)

MP3: Frodus – The Day Buildings Mysteriously Vanished from Conglomerate International (1998)

MP3: Frodus – There Will Be No More Scum (Alternate Version) from Songs From the Penalty Box 3 (1999)

MP3: Frodus – Disco from Split 7″ with Atomic Fireball (1999)

MP3: Frodus – The Earth Isn’t Humming from And We Washed Our Weapons In The Sea (2001)

The name Frodus (Wiki) may instantly ignite a cascade of warm fuzzies in the pleasure centers of your brain, or it may just ring hollowly, unrecognized.  The DC-area post-hardcore stars burned quickly and melted down ca. 1999, leaving in their wake a massively acclaimed album (And We Washed Our Weapons In The Sea) to be released two years post-mortem on Fueled By Ramen, and finally bringing them deserved amounts of critical acclaim and an expanded fanbase…just a bit too late for them.

The wide variety of music loosely brought under the label post-hardcore has, over the past decade, dilated into a bloated and diffuse parody of itself.  A regiment of clone artists took up post-hardcore’s tattered banner as they achieved mainstream success and a significant dilution in style in the mid-2000s, while the icons of the genre moved on to other sounds and styles, barely reaching the success of their forebears.  Frodus is one of the genre’s most brilliant standard-bearers, formed amidst the wave of early 90’s post-hardcore artists and counting as peers greats like Refused, Glassjaw, Quicksand and Snapcase as well as established acts from the Dischord stable like Fugazi and Jawbox.

Thankfully, those who weren’t lucky enough to catch Frodus the first time around should find it a lot easier now that it seems they have reunited, amiably and permanently.  A series of reunion shows promising to pick up right where they left off, showing the usurpers how things got done in the good old days, and a promise of new material that is hopefully only the beginning of a reclamation of the post-hardcore genre from mediocrity.  I got the low-down from lead singer/guitarist Shelby Cinca (also of the Cassettes, Decahedron, Triobelisk, tons of other projects) about all things Frodus and Frodus Escape Plan (reunited).

Aural States: Let’s get a history lesson, crash course style.  Way back when…how did it start?

Shelby Cinca: Well, it started in 1993.  I was playing in this grunge band with some friends, we lost our drummer.  The guitarist-singer for that band worked with Jason’s (drummer from Frodus) mom, and his mom was like “my son is a drummer.”  Jason gave us a video tape through his mom of him playing without a shirt, in his room.  We thought “this guy is ridiculous,” and we went to his house and jammed and it was cool.  And then things started to get shaky with that band because the singer wanted to do something else.  One day he left practice early, and Jason and I stayed and we wrote a Frodus song and thought “this is so much better, what do we do…”  Thankfully, next practice the singer showed up and quit so we didn’t have to do anything!

So we continued as Frodus and booked a show at my high school.  Total underground show through a fake school organization.  We fliered everywhere in DC and something like 500 kids showed up.  We were about to go on and a fire alarm goes off, so we didn’t get to play.  But we still managed to record a tape of our set, we had 6 songs.  We did that, and Frodus just kind of took us on a rollercoaster ride.  We started putting stuff out ourselves, went through a few bassists, ended up on a label called Double Deuce in NYC who put out F-Letter.  And then we got signed through some friends to Tooth & Nail, where we did Conglomerate International.  They put a lot of press behind that.  Then we did our last record, And We Washed Our Weapons In The Sea, and when we recorded that, that was a bad year.  Jason’s girlfriend got cancer, my dad had a stroke that same week…we didn’t want to be on Tooth & Nail anymore because they were focusing more on their Christian artists and it wasn’t really in tune with what we were doing as a band.  So we got off the label and we just broke up, and the record was lost in limbo.

We briefly signed to MIA Records, run by an oil tycoon who used to be an 80’s punk.  But all of a sudden, the guy had to settle a lawsuit from some kid from a show this guy put on.  The kid jumped and fell on his head at Butthole Surfers show in the 80’s that this guy put on. The kid paralyzed himself for the rest of his life.  So they finally settled 20 years later and the label folded.  That was the label that might have brought Frodus back together in 2000, 2001.  They had a great budget, a whole floor in Manhattan.  It was almost like being on a major, but it was an indie.

AS: When you guys just kind of dissolved, a lot of people who enc0unter difficulties retreat into their art.  What made you guys go the other way?

SC: We just stopped having fun.  We always said that if we ever stop having fun anymore, we’d just stop.  Our communication wasn’t the best…it was getting really bad.  We weren’t seeing eye-to-eye on a lot of things.  I was getting sick of playing hardcore shows.  I wanted to play with weirder bands, and I felt like the hardcore crowd didn’t really care.  We started having differences on where we wanted to go with the band.  It felt like if we were gonna stay together, tour with At the Drive In in 2000, it would’ve crashed and burned into not being friends anymore.  So we had to stop, to maintain friendship.

And now it’s all for the better.

AS: You guys broke up seemingly right before a huge groundswell of interest in new artists aligned with your philosophy and music, and the broader post-hardcore scene.

SC: Those first 6 years we were together, it was like we were too weird to be hardcore and too loud to be indie.  A lot of the hardcore kids were like: “This is lame; I don’t like it.”  And the indie kids thought it was too crazy.  There was no middle ground until the younger generation came around and said “Oh this is awesome.”  So yeah, I guess it was bad timing in that respect.

AS: Would you lump yourselves under the post-hardcore designation?

SC: Yeah, I guess so.  It’s not hardcore, but it’s a progression.  So I’d say so.  But I always like to say it’s “post-office,” something you put on at home after a frustrating day of your job at the office.

AS: You mentioned you were kind of disenchanted with the hardcore scene.  After you guys broke up, were you still interested in that approach to music?

SC: I went with the Cassettes.  I had to do something else, completely different.  It had to do some with there being less pressure.  The first and second Cassettes records, kinda generic rock records, but they’re like healing records for me personally.  It felt necessary to do, like I gotta stop screaming and nerd out on some 70’s and 80’s rock.

AS: The Cassettes sound is overall a lot warmer than the math-y sounds of Frodus.

SC: Yeah, although the last Cassettes record is pretty weird, Countach. It’s a lot more eclectic, a lot of theremin, some hard rock.  Actually a lot like the early Frodus stuff we did.  Almost like the Cassettes became what Frodus was in ‘93.

AS: So it really was natural to fall back into Frodus.

SC: Yeah, sort of a big circle.

AS: So you essentially ignored the developments in the post-hardcore movement that you guys, in a way, predated.

SC: I didn’t really like a lot of the new bands, so I kind of stuck with the Dischord stuff.  I always thought At the Drive-In, he always sang out of key and riffed a lot like Fugazi, so I thought I’ll just listen to Fugazi.  They’re a better band.  But I understood why people dug At The Drive-In, their energy and everything…seeing them live, I think they’re a much better live band than recorded, in the end.

I recorded the first two Dead Meadow records, which were more stoner rock heavy, but I started distancing myself from it more and more.

AS: It was odd to see the developments and proliferation of post-hardcore around that time, from something still pretty tight and focused on progression and agitation to something oddly mainstreamed…easily funneled into the Hot Topic stores.

SC: It became really commercial.  Kind of the new hair metal, except the hair’s not permed and long but dramatic and swept over.  It’s very similar ideas.  The band members just want to party and meet chicks.  It’s like the 80’s are happening again, but in a weird form now.

AS: So you also have your Triobelisk project as an outlet.

SC: Cassettes are kind of on hold now; they’re kind of like a band of gypsies, everyone has a lot of things going on.  A 52-year-old theremin player, Saadat who’s a Ducati racing Pakistani dude, Stephen has a master’s degree in media, kind of a mad scientist type.  Which makes it a very difficult band to market, and it’s amazing it even functions.  How do we even manage to make any songs.

AS: But I think it’s a huge advantage for you to generate interesting sounds and appeal to a wider fan-base.

SC: It’s odd though because, you know, there’s very rarely Frodus crossover with the Cassettes.  I guess people are like “Playing guitar and singing…he should be screaming.”  I don’t know how we have to be presented for people to like it.  I mean, when people see us, they like it. It worked really well locally, but I tried so many avenues with that band, to get it to stick tour-wise.  So we decided let’s just be punk and be local and not care about trying to tour.  And that was when Cassettes became the most successful, just organically.

AS: How did you get started with Triobelisk?

SC: I was playing around with 8-bit stuff, and trying to expand from it.  It was really easy to do that stuff solitarily.  I could get an idea out by myself, and feel like it sounds completed.  I did a remix of “Sussudio” by Phil Collins that got some success and widely blogged, then picked up by some more prominent DJs and remixed.

So I kept making tracks, trying to figure out what kind of sound I was going for.  Bringing out influences, even from Frodus like Kraftwerk, and making them more direct influences rather than indirect how Frodus was.  And these synth dudes from the 70s with their long epics.  Making all that more palatable, while still trying to take the listener somewhere else.  And keeping a sense of music history, so it’s not completely like club bangers that might be forgotten.  Even though it is club music, trying to make it have a little more longevity.  Not just “YOU’RE GONNA GO CRAZY DURING THIS DANCE SONG.”

AS: So do each of your projects occupy different spaces in your head?  Like, when you are writing Cassettes stuff you are in one region, Frodus stuff in another…

SC: Frodus, musically, is whatever interplay happens between Jason and I.  We jam with other people, but you know, when he and I are in a room, we write Frodus songs.  It just makes sense.

The Cassettes, on the other hand, I wrote and recorded parts at home and brought them to practice.  Then we started building the sound organically, so it works sort of in the Frodus way by being the practice space and writing. But Cassettes move more like a weird, go-with-the-flow blob.  Whereas Frodus, though it still moves like a blob, there’s a bit more of a focus on where the songs are going to go.

So, similar but totally different.

Triobelisk is like synthesizers, completely different.  I use a whole different part of my brain to come up with that stuff.

AS: What about lyrically?

SC: Frodus now, probably a little more along the lines of Conglomerate International, moreso than introspective like Weapons.  I think it’s time to be more confrontational.

AS: How did the reunion happen?

SC: House of Sweden, our friends in Division of Laura Lee were playing last October.  The PA kept dying, so they got pissed and dropped their stuff and just left.  So when things started coming back on, our friend Mike Fite said “Go play a song, go play a song.”  So me, Jason, and Saadat from the Cassettes went on stage.  I taught Saadat the bass line real quick and we did a really weird version of “Invisible Timelines.”

Divison of Laura Lee guys came up and said “what the f—.”  They were really excited, because they hadn’t seen a Frodus thing since the 90’s.  Then they kind of finished their set, shortened since the PA died.  And we thought “wow that was fun.”  Then flash-forward to February.

Lovitt was doing a showcase with our friend, old-school promoter Courtney.  She started doing shows in Austin again and asked us.  I didn’t know if we could do it.  Things were kind of slow for me, and slow for Jason so we decided to just jam.  And we thought “oh crap, this is pretty good.”  Let’s get on the show.  That was like 3 weeks before.  We made some calls, Liam from Dillinger Escape Plan, was ready to do it.  I knew him from doing the Ire Works album artwork; he was the idea guy, so we worked together on that.  Ire Works, in a weird way, is a lot like Conglomerate.  The concepts in it.  Even the colors, the blue and the triangle and everything.  I sort of put an abstraction of Conglomerate into that artwork, just more about artificial intelligence than corporations.  Liam, he fit perfectly and we’d never even played with him.

AS: How did the SXSW showcase go?  How was the reception?

SC: Oh it was great!  The Murky show was awesome too.  That whole show is online.  I didn’t know what to expect.  SXSW was cool.  There was a stage, so the crowd couldn’t feel it as much?  I didn’t like being on the big stage…but people were into it.  I think I liked the Murky show, the energy, better.  There was no stage, it was like karaoke.  It was a little bit like that at SXSW, with some people jumping on stage grabbing the mic and singing.

But the Murky show…it was like we were a 90’s hardcore band.  I didn’t even have to finish lines, the crowd would finish it.  It was awesome.  At the Murky show, I felt like…it’s more about the songs than us.  Which made me even more excited that this is happening.  That’s also why I chose Talking Head over Sonar; I want to have a kid be able to grab the bass mic, because Liam’s not doing backups, and just sing the backup vocals.  I want every show to be like Frodus karoake.  It’s not about us, it’s about these songs and that people are still psyched about them.

I want it to be a party more than it being us putting on a show.

Frodus (esc. plan) 3/18/09 – Part 1 from Michael D’Angelo on Vimeo.

AS: How do you feel everything fits in with current events?

SC: It’s one of the reasons we got back together.  Specifically, Gilead is putting out Conglomerate International, that record is about corporate corruption.  That just got re-released by Gilead, not Weapons.  The banks failing.

I thought: “We have to do it.  No matter what.  This makes so much sense now.”  I mean, we were  saying back then, in 1993, “We are the economic police.”  I don’t know if you heard that little PSA we did.  So, because of these specific events and these specific records.  If you think about it, people typically say Weapons was going to bring us back, but it turned out to be Conglomerate, which I think is cool.

AS: Do you have a defined view, how you would like things to change as far as politics and policies?  Is there one central manifesto for Frodus?

SC: I think so.  Less corporatism.  America is so much behind the big corporation.  I think Obama, to some extent, is trying to steer things away from that.  Making sure there are more checks and balances, but it’s a situation we’ve gotten stuck in.  It’s hard to pull the rug out and it’s such a big problem.  You have to wean people to think differently.  To think about smaller communities.  Like in that book Omnivore’s Dilemma, thinking about your local area.  Less about the American sense of self-entitlement, and more about actual community.  Kind of what America used to be about at some level, back when immigrants first came to this country and formed small, focal communities, opening small businesses and shops.  Somehow, things changed and became “I’m entitled to have my own big car and not ride a bus with people who are of a different social class than me.”  But who cares about that?  We should realize we are all in this together.  So America is in this weird state where it’s says it’s coming together, but still trying to fulfill self-entitlement.

For example, recently I went to the American History Museum and every exhibit had a corporate sponsor.  Like, the transportation exhibit was sponsored by GM.  So when it says people switched from trolleys to buses, it talks about general dislike of the trolley system and says nothing about GM and Ford buying all the trolleys and shutting them down.  Every video had the History Channel logo on it, and the Star-Spangled Banner flag is sponsored by Ralph Lauren.  It has a logo on it.  That’s so screwed up.  A museum, you think would be a separate institution.  It’s so America.

AS: Was all this motivation for your move to Sweden?

SC: Well there just aren’t enough jobs here, and my wife wanted to goto school…for free.  My parents are in Romania.  Sweden’s fun.  I went there, stayed there for 5 months.  I got grandfathered into the EU in 2007, but we came back here in 2006 and just decided to stick it out.  But now, we’re married so it’s easy.  We thought why not.

AS: Is the move permanent?

SC: Definitely permanent.  We always talked about moving to New York if we could afford it.  Maybe that’s on the horizon, but otherwise it’s pretty permanent.  It shouldn’t affect Frodus immensely though, considering that we know a lot of people there, Jason’s already a traveler.  He and I come up with some good parts and Liam can always rock a good bassline, so we can make stuff happen.  We’ve done it long enough that the preparation time isn’t as long.

AS: Did you guys tour internationally before?

SC: Yeah, we went on tour with Refused for 5 weeks in 1998.  It’s been a long time since we’ve been back and we definitely want to.  Touring with Refused in Sweden made us like a household name for those in our generation.  So, people who know Frodus in Sweden were people who went to the Refused shows, basically everyone over 30.  If we went now, there would still be younger kids discovering it and a lot of older kids coming out.  They definitely have a different history with Frodus than people here.

AS: How did you decide on your openers for your East Coast shows?

SC: We didn’t have anything to do with Philly, I think that was all Liam.  But others it was just friends.  The Baltimore one, Caverns are big Frodus fans, they’ve gotten to know us.  Solar Powered Sun Destroyer has written us before.  I want to give back the love, so those bands that really like us and were influenced by us get to play with us and everybody has a good time.  The same with New York, Nakitomi Plaza, one of the singer’s first shows when he moved to NYC was us playing at the student union.  People who were always there that just never got to play with us.  It’s all about giving back the love.

AS: Are you guys debuting any new stuff on this mini-tour?

SC: No, we’ve got one new song but it doesn’t have vocals.  We’ll just do Conglomerate and a couple Weapons songs.  We’re pretty much picking up exactly where we left off.  This is exactly the show you would’ve seen in ‘99 basically.  Same set lists, same repertoire.

AS: So what’s going to be different this time around?

SC: Well I think a lot of the crowd has never seen us.  And I think we play a little bit better.  It’s become a little phenomenon because we haven’t been around; there’s a lot of anticipation.  The crowd never sang, jumped up and down, partied like that in the 90’s really.  So that’s totally changed, how I even look at the shows.

AS: Do you have any new material in the works yet?

SC: We’ve only got the one song, and a couple of riffs so we’re just gonna record and see where it goes.  We’re moving to Sweden end of June/early July, but that shouldn’t stop us.  We’re just kind of a project that’s cruising, doing stuff as long as it’s fun.

AS: What are you guys planning for releases?  Something by end of the year?

SC: I’d like to.  We have this idea of calling it Frodus Sound Laboratories, an old name we used back in the day.  It’s not necessarily a new Frodus record, just an experiment.  There’s all these bands now that are pretty well known, Dillinger, Converge, who are friends.   Some of the Refused guys.  For the past 15 years, they’ve been saying we should do a project together and we should jam, but it never would have worked.  And now is the opportunity to do it.  See what happens, just have fun and not really think about a full-length.

MP3: Captain Beefheart – Dirty Blue Gene from Doc at the Radar Station (1980)

In my review of Mike Watt’s brilliant performance Saturday night (outshining even the massive Dinosaur Jr.), I remarked that he bears some startling similarity to Captain Beefheart.  From the scorched-raw vocals, to the frenetic free-jazz breakdowns soaked in punk rock, there were just too many instances of this parallel for it to be coincidence.

I love it when I’m right.  Behold, a little searching unearthed Mike Watt contributing an extremely faithful cover of “Dirty Blue Gene” to a 2003 Captain Beefheart tribute comp titled Neon Meate Dream Of A Octafish.  The original was a classic Beefheart track: blistering, mind-bending instumentals (only outdone by the lyrics themselves) that congeal into an oddly satisfying and remarkably funky groove.

I think it pretty much speaks for itself.

MP3: The Love Language – Lalita

MP3: The Love Language – Manteo

Photo credit: Greg Szeto, Love Language at the Ottobar playing a fantastic set with Avocado Happy Hour (more pictures here)

There’s something undeniable about a well-executed pop song. There’s this assured quality in how pop feels, you begin to believe that there’s a normative characteristic about the music, that everyone should like a good pop track.

Raleigh’s The Love Language make music that fits this description like a pair of one-size-fits-all gym shorts. They apply the now-popular lo-fi fuzz filter to the beat-to-death standards of indie pop. Sounds worn and unoriginal right?

Wrong.  The Love Language’s greatest talent is their ability to inject some much-needed vitality into otherwise mundane breeds of indie music, making for a wholly delightful listening experience.

I, for one, cannot understand why anyone would/could/should ever dislike the batshit-giddy beach pop beats of “Lalita.” A few lone rapid strums of an acoustic guitar open the floor for an overdriven surf-pop riff larger and brighter than my radio station’s marketing director (whom I’m beginning to suspect is at least half-giant). The song continues in the same euphoric fashion for the next three minutes, with a verse catchier than that deadly swine flu from hell, and a chorus that belongs in a summer blockbuster’s soundtrack.

From what I’ve heard, The Love Language’s success has to do with their mood-enhancing vocals much of the time. While I’m still not certain what fuzzed-out voices do to us, or why they do it, I surely hope they never stop.

Check their new music video for song “Sparxxx” after the jump.

The Love Language “Sparxxx”

MP3: The Thermals – No Culture Icons from More Parts Per Million (2003)

The fetching bassist of Portland pop-punksters the Thermals is one Kathy Foster. And a long-standing rockstar crush for me (see right *drool*). So it was with great giddiness that I got her on the horn and poked and prodded her brain about the latest Thermals-related affairs, which she answered graciously and humbly, with a touch of coyness, only deepening my googly-eyes. OK, enough school-boy non-sense. Read up on my thoughts on their latest, Now We Can See and let’s talk the after-Sub Pop and the after-life.

Aural States – I think I talked to Hutch around the time when you guys were considering leaving Sub Pop.  Could you tell me more about the decision to leave and then sign with Kill Rock Stars?

Kathy Foster – We had a contract with Sub Pop for three records, and that was up after The Body, The Blood, The Machine.  After that, they gave us another contract for two records.  So we sat with that for a few months, talked about it, talked to them about it.  To us it seemed really similar to the first contract…and the way it was laid out was more like a major label.

We wanted to make a record, license it to a label and not have them own it.  And we wanted to work one record at a time.  So we just kind of felt like we needed a change.  Finally, after several months, we decided we were not going to work with Sub Pop.  And both sides were sad to not be working with one another anymore, but we felt it was the right decision for us.

So then we recorded the record without a label in mind.  And, I can’t remember if it was before we started recording, but it was pretty early on that Kill Rock Stars got in touch with us and expressed a lot of interest in working with us and putting out our next record.  But it was still really early and we didn’t know quite what we were doing yet.  We just wanted to record and then we’d have a better idea of what we wanted to do.

So we focused and recorded, and once we were done we started giving people some songs to listen to and sending it around.  Just about that time, we met with KRS and they kept in touch with us.  They were really excited and expressed a lot of enthusiasm.  When we got together we really liked what they had to say, about how they run their business, what their plan would be and what they thought they could do with it.  And I was really into them being in Portland (they had just moved from Olympia that summer) and it just gave me a good feeling to work with them so we signed with them.  Just like with Sub Pop, they were a label I grew up with and totally respect both labels.  They’re my dream labels.

AS – For a lot of your previous records, it seemed the song-writing happened in really quick bursts.  Was that the same for Now We Can See?

KF – We took more time with this one.  With each record, a little more time was spent on the songwriting.  We started writing beginning of 2007, and in between touring when we were home, Hutch and I would just get together and work on them a little more.  We recorded demos along the way.  And we spent all of 2008, from the beginning, making several different versions and demos of the songs on the cassette 4-track and 8-track and computer, just messing around trying to experiment with the sound.  Playing them in different ways, before reining it in and finding the sound we wanted.

There was a lot more experimentation on this record.  And Hutch spent a lot more time writing lyrics.  Some of the songs he’d write a whole version of lyrics, decide he didn’t like it and throw the whole thing away.  Not even try and edit it or anything, just start over.  So he wrote a lot of lyrics.  I was noting on the final insert this time, the lyrics fill up the whole front and back whereas on the other records, all three were on one side I think.  There were a lot more words on this one.

We spent a lot more time developing everything about these songs, the structure, the sound, the arranging, the words.  I guess we like both ways, writing a song really fast, not messing with it and just seeing what comes out.  I love the raw energy of that.

AS – Do you think your sound progressed in the same way as the songwriting, from this raw energy to a more intense, thoughtful energy?

KF – Yeah, I think so.  I think it’s just natural.  You can’t manufacture raw energy.  As soon as you’re aware of it, it starts changing.  The first record was kind of a response or reaction to the Hutch and Kathy record we made.  Just the two of us recording on an 8-track, going back and forth to each other’s houses.  We spent a year, leisurely recording songs.  That finally came out, then Hutch just wanted to do something totally opposite, record a song in one day and have it be blown out, fast and fun and catchy.  Not thinking about it very much.  A lot of the songs on that first record he wrote in one or a couple days.  Like you said, it was just quick and raw, and that’s what people loved about it.  When Sub Pop wanted to put it out, they asked us: “Do you want to re-record it?” We were like: “Uhh, no, we’d lose the whole character of the recording.”

AS – What were your goals with this newest album, both musically and lyrically?

KF – Musically we wanted to be better.  Spend more time, making songs that develop more and are more dynamic.  As far as lyrically, Hutch writing about death wasn’t specific to any experience. We both tend to think about death.  And I know he was going through a breakup around the same time so there’s a lot of love and relationship stuff in there.

We don’t really set out to write around any specific theme.  Hutch didn’t set out to write TBTBTM, but after the first few songs were written, the theme developed on its own.  That’s just how we write songs, pretty naturally.  When writing, I play on the drums and Hutch plays guitars and messes around with lyrics and we try not to narrow things too soon to any one idea.

We recorded the new album on cassette 4-tracks, and I wanted to spend more time on the bass lines (which were last minute on TBTBTM).

AS – So the fact that Now We Can See continues weaving a lot of threads, both musically and lyrically, from TBTBTM, this wasn’t your intent?

KF – Yeah, I suppose it was inevitable, but not intentional.  We were both super proud of TBTBTM and happy people understood it.  But after talking about it so much, Hutch didn’t want to write another political or religious album.  So Now We Can See follows up on the last record, where the world ends in a fiery apocalypse.  On NWCS, we take the perspective of someone dead, looking back on an Earth with no life.  Reflecting on their own life & the history of humanity and how we treated each other and the planet.

AS – Did you guys decide on a metaphysical state for the dead?  Like, where are we reflecting from?  Is it a purgatory-like place, heaven, hell, or something more spiritual or ghostly, like a disembodied narrator?

KF – Definitely not purgatory, I think that’s too religious for me.  It’s kind of ghostly…

AS – But not like glowing white sheets or semi-transparent bodies or anything?

KF – No not that, but something more philosophical.

AS – You guys definitely ramped up the contrast of poppy, upbeat music with severe content, like on the almost-giddy “We Were Sick,” which recounts our wanton misdeeds and ecological destruction.

KF – I think that reflects our personalities.  Hutch is a really bubbly and happy person, but also really smart and always thinking about heavy stuff.  We both joke around a lot and think about heavy stuff.

And to an extent I think that describes Portland.  It’s a really moody city.  There’s all this beautiful stuff, graet music going on, but at the same time it can be so dark and grey.  It’s something that is really natural when you look back and consider 50’s and 60’s pop, soul, funk, dancey tunes.  They’ve always contrasted pop tunes with heavy content.  When you stop and listen to the lyrics, everyone is dancing around to someone singing about heartache.

AS – Can you say a little about the first single “Now We Can See”?

KF - That song is a culmination of many different influences.  It’s the exact kind of song we wanted to write.  While on tour for TBTBTM, we played with bands like the Hold Steady and the Cribs (UK), both of whom have really catchy non-word choruses.  So there’s some of their influence in there.  And it also combines some of the influences we grew up with, heavier and more rock focused.  It’s also a good wrap-up of the theme for the album, looking back on the planet and human arrogance.  How we all know we are making mistakes, but continue to do the things we do.

AS – I was really impressed by “At the Bottom of the Sea.”  You guys did a great job at creating that underwater feel without resorting to overly cliched effects, doing it instead with a lot of precise mixing.

KF – Thanks!  John Congletone had a lot of really great ideas on how to get that sound and in how he mixed it.  I kind of think of that song as what we would play if we were the band at an underwater dance, and it reminds me of Velvet Underground, so I think we had that influence in mind a lot with that song.

AS – So what’s with you guys and drummers?  This is the 3rd, 4th consecutive album you’ve written as a duo?

KF – Yeah, I’m sabotaging it so I can play drums.  *laughs* It’s just always worked out this way.  I mostly played drums in previous bands, the Thermals being the first I’ve played lead bass in.  Hutch and I have played that way together (me on drums, him on guitar) a lot in previous bands so it is comfortable.

We’ve been really lucky to get creative people as drummers, but it’s hard to keep them interested.  Jordan, our first drummer, and Loren who played with us for 1 and a half years behind TBTBTM, both left to focus on other pursuits.  Caitlin, who was in between those two, was having some problems with back pain so she couldn’t play.  But after Loren left, Hutch & I decided we really work well together and we wanted to record again, so we did.  I played drums and bass, Hutch on guitar and vocals.

AS – It seems that you guys are progressing more and more back to the days of Hutch and Kathy, mellower and poppier songs than at the outset of the Thermals.  Is this because you’ve been recording as a duo so much, you guys kind of revert back to that state?

KF – I think the more we play as the Thermals, the more they come back in.  But Hutch and I have been playing in bands together a long time, and all different styles, and I think they all come into our music.  Our first band was a heavy stoner band, slow, countryish, a lot of Led Zeppelin influence and other heavy rock bands.  Coming out of that, into Hutch and Kathy, we toned down and were just playing guitars.  The newer songs we’ve been writing remind me of New Order a lot.  Starting out with fast bass and drums and the guitar comes in and out with the single melody line.  We’ve been writing a lot of different things.

AS – I don’t know if this is intentional, but you’ve been writing albums in stylistic pairs it seems.  Your first 2 being fast rippers, the second pair being higher-fi, poppier numbers.  Was this just because you guys just naturally get bored after 2 albums and change your sound?  What’s next?

KF – Yeah, I think that’s accurate.  I know I can play the same songs over and over, but Hutch gets bored and pushes us more forward (at least, more than if I was in charge, not that either of us is in charge).  We’ve been working on a lot of new stuff, other than New Order, we’ve been writing with a lot of Modern Lovers and the Kinks, garagey stuff in our heads.

Tonight at the Talking Head: shoegaze fanatics rejoice at the rescheduled appearance of the Pains of Being Pure at Heart, along with DC’s own wunderkinds Deleted Scenes.

8PM doors, $10 cover.

Check out some insightful words Zack exchanged with them in interview, and ink he spilled on their self-titled debut album.  Music videos and live footage after the jump.

MP3: Dinosaur Jr – Freak Scene from Bug (1988)

Dinosaur Jr. are inarguably one of the central progenitors of the 90s rock archetype.  Few other groups have such a distinct sound that is so closely linked to a precise era in collective memory.  And like most pioneers of a sound, the legions of artists they inspired received all the attention (any number of Dinosaur Jr. influenced 90s alt-rock bands, eg- Nirvana).  After Merge’s re-release of their early material, they finally seem to be getting their slice of the popularity pie.

But they do little to dispel the notion that bands break-up for a reason, and rarely reform out of some intense desire to create music together again.  Look no farther than their most recent release Beyond, or their set list drenched in classics, for more hints on their intent in regrouping.  There’s nothing new here.  Further, any number of times I could almost feel Murph, Lou and J pulling apart, each taking their own parts into separate realms without considering the song as an entity, and seeming to forget to play as a band.  This persistent inability to lock-in a tempo at first try was distracting, at times frustrating.  The other distraction in their live set was the absolute ridiculous dominance of J Mascis’ uber-amped guitars.  Basically drowning out everything beneath a sea of big, distorted guitar melodies as he rained down riffs from his 3 massive Marshall stacks.  There is a better balance to be had while still achieving that guitar-rich sound, but they really didn’t bother to find it.

Despite these drawbacks, Dinosaur Jr. were good, and at times great.  J Mascis’ trademark guitar squalls were in full and massive effect, resonating melodies into your marrow.  Fantastically tight drumming from Murph and really vivacious bass lines courtesy of Lou Barlow. But ultimately, I couldn’t help but be a bit disappointed.  Fortunately, opener Mike Watt absolutely blew me away.

Watt, a career bassist who helped found Firehose and the Minutemen, was having the time of his life up there.  He absolutely mauls the bass, manhandling it to create all manner of tones and styles, from punk to free-jazz to funk.  Unlike the easily precision-dated sounds of Dinosaur Jr., Watt created ferocious punk-blends that still feel fresh and new and exciting today, at times his frenzied freakouts make me wonder if he shares some musical kinship with weirdo-psych, avant-garde legend Captain Beefheart. Watt was equally comfortable stepping aside and letting his Missingmen or guest-cameos from Dinosaur Jr. guys shine, always making sure the track took precedence over any individual insstrument.  His work is deserving of a long legend and legacy.

Dinosaur Jr.

Mike Watt & the Missingmen

I have a hard time imagining Depeche Mode ever delivering an album that doesn’t possess some merit or pull for me.  Much like Morrissey’s release earlier in the year, Sounds of the Universe holds no real surprises, no shocking reinventions.  What it does offer is yet another solid entry into a massive catalog of enrapturing new wave that consistently proves the genre has life left.

Their rich, Gothic compositions, ornate and dripping in dark, brooding gravitas are ever present.  Lead track “In Chains” is a shining example of just how vital DM remain.  A crescendoing electronic din and drone opens the album and reminds us of their position as innovative proto electronic artists.  One of their trademarks has always been to seamlessly incorporate a number of experimental elements into their dark pop entities.  The decidedly experimental intro watersheds into the expansive and ever-vibrant vocals of Dave Gahan.  Like master minituarists, the crew of Martin Gore and Andrew Fletcher gradually construct the sparse, looping and throbbing musical heartbeat of the track until it becomes lush, engrossing as the shroud of night, as the punctuating, interdigitated lines of various synths and guitars dot their unmistakable sound.

The skittering rhythms of “Hole to Feed” give the track a physical propulsiveness that is unmatched on the album save for lead single “Wrong.”  The perfect single, it is relentless and gloriously dark and brooding, with huge growling synths to match the aggressive declarations of Gahan’s vocals.  ”Fragile Tension” finds DM getting closer to contemporary purveyors of indie-dance-motivated electro; in lesser hands, the same track would have swiftly ended up trite.  But this, along with the warp and warble of the longing ode “Little Soul,” turn into fully-realized, extremely personal journeys through the maturity of delivery and tasteful arrangement.  ”Peace” absolutely bubbles through with a universal, metaphysical feeling of harmony, the minor key, downturning melodies constructing a more profound and complex notion of joy.

The closing half of the album seems to be missing a bit of direction, populated with diffuse, relatively ineffectual and loungey tracks like going-nowhere instrumental “Spacewalker,” penultimate track “Jezebel” and closer “Corrupt.”  Only the galloping “Miles Away/The Truth Is” seems to be immune from this second-half slump in momentum.  Lyrically, the album continues DM’s trend of more inward-focused and intensely personal content, not likely to churn out another track along the lines of “People are People” or “Everything Counts.”

But despite these drawbacks, DM are hardly toothless; their material resonates deeply still (even the more mediocre tracks) and at times, more than ever.  Their sound is ageless, much like Gahan’s increasingly gorgeous vocals, constantly refining and perfecting.  DM are a true gem, and this album holds plenty to love (and only some to skip), but never once makes you wonder why they’ve created such a large legacy of influence.

Label: Capitol

Release Date: Apr 21 2009

Track List:

“In Chains” – 6:53
“Hole to Feed” – 3:59 (Dave Gahan, Christian Eigner, Andrew Phillpott)
“Wrong” – 3:13
“Fragile Tension” – 4:09
“Little Soul” – 3:31
“In Sympathy” – 4:54
“Peace” – 4:29
“Come Back” – 5:15 (Gahan, Eigner, Phillpott)
“Spacewalker” – 1:53
“Perfect” – 4:33
“Miles Away/The Truth Is” – 4:14 (Gahan, Eigner, Phillpott)
“Jezebel” – 4:41
“Corrupt” – 5:04 (8:58)
“Interlude #5″ – 0:37 (hidden song starting at 8:17)

This is easy as pie.  Comment with a reason why you’ve got soul (or you need to find it) and I’ll enter your name for 2 tickets to Sharon Jones (Wiki) @ Rams Head Live next Thursday (May 7).  I can personally vouch it’ll be a phenomenal show as I fondly recall being transfixed to the stage by her roaring vocals and the big-n-bold bodied horns of the DAP Kings at Bonnaroo last year.

On May 5th, you can catch a Sharon Jones rarity of sorts, as she covers Bob Marley’s “It Hurts To Be Alone” for Causes 2, the second album in a series from Waxploitation to benefit the work of Doctors Without Borders, Human Rights Watch and Oxfam America (principally their efforts in Darfur).  So take the $60 you are saving by winning these tickets, and spend a portion of it on that album.

Our friends Jenn and Andy, perhaps better known outside Baltimore as Wye Oak, have dropped the first bombshell from their sure-to-be-huge sophomore album on vaunted label Merge Records.  The premiere track “Take It In” is one we actually premiered on this site a long time ago as an untitled new song in their live set from the If Children re-release at the G-Spot (courtesy the Baltimore Taper).  It is undoubtedly one of their best songs, and has long been a favorite of mine.

The invaluable peek at the new album’s sound records for posterity what all of us in the area have known for quite some time now: Wye Oak’s sound is continuously growing bigger and more textured, getting closer and closer to their multi-instrumental visions.  Their live sets have told us to expect healthy amounts of harmonium.

One of the most noticeable accents they’ve made on this track in the recording process was adding in the quavering ebb and recede of what could be a pedal steel melody (not surprising considering their penchant for roots folk and the recording of the album in western Maryland), hovering above the entire mix, organically flowing between the role of atmospheric drone and occasionally dipping in to harmonize with and bolster Wasner’s still-gorgeous vocals.

Listening to how they’ve recorded this track, I can’t wait to hear how they’ve finished off “For Prayer,” easily one of their most moving, soaring tracks that really lets Jenn rock out.

Check out our past, extensive coverage of these Aural States Fest alums, and our in-depth interviews here and here.  Their live sets are nothing short of phenomenal.  Stay tuned for more in-depth Wye Oak news as their new album approaches.

MP3: Solar Powered Sun Destroyer – Intromission

Some of you may or may not remember me gushing a bit about SPSD when they opened for Appleseed Cast at Sonar a few weeks ago. Even more remarkable, and something I may have neglected to mention, is that the show was one of their first ones back after a massive line-up overhaul.

Seems even more people have hopped on the fan-wagon this week as, in anticipation of their show tonight at the Black Cat, DC blog DCist conducted one of their Three Stars spotlights on the fellas.  I’ve said pretty much all I desire to at this point, so go back and read that review and enjoy the above cuts (thanks to SPSD for kindly letting us host them).  I will likely gush a bit more when they open a phenomenal bill at the Talking Head on May 8 with Aural States regulars and Aural States Fest alums Caverns and a little band called FRODUS headlining.

If you are in DC tonight, do head over to the Black Cat Backstage, where SPSD will open for Tera Melos.  $10/doors @ 9PM.

After many attempts to categorize the folk genre, I have found it impossible to pigeonhole such a broad spectrum of music. Woody Guthrie and Bob Dylan may have paved the way for the male vocalist, but the breed of folk sound has evolved with popular taste.

In his first release since Ash Wednesday’s debut in 2007, Elvis Perkins released his sophomore album on March 10 2009, titled after his live band: Elvis Perkins in Dearland.  Although the record drops traces of indie folk rock influences, the singer-songwriter leaves plenty of room for the spoken word. His lyrics flow more in the form of poetry than verse-refrain, marinating in tender prose of allusion and symbolism:

“Sweep up, little sweeper boy, sweep up/ Yellow is the color of my true love’s crossbow/ Yellow is the color of the sun/ And black is the color of/ A strangled rainbow/ That’s the color of my loss/ Black is the color of my true love’s arrow/ That’s the color of human blood.”

Songs like “Hey” and “Shampoo” combine both acoustic and electric guitar, using the nostalgic elements of old time folk rock. Simple snare drum lines and tambourine jitters resemble present indie big names like Belle and Sebastian through track 3, “Hours Last Stand”. The melody manages to stay pronounced and independent— one is not commanded by the other, but enhanced, flowing simultaneously. “Chains, Chains, Chains” and “Doomsday” sound like the Rumble Strips without British overtones, sticking to trumpet blares and ska vibrations.

Perkins’ voice drifts somewhere between the yodels of Devendra Banhart and Brett Dennen, but somehow manages to stay unfamiliar. Check “I’ll Be Arriving,” what I found to be the most multi-dimensional track, bringing heavy reverb to meet cavorting chimes and bells, built under phonograph distorted vocals to deliver a surprisingly moody blues, instruments clanking together like scraps in a junkyard. On Elvis Perkins in Dearland, Perkins has displayed the ability to blend diverse textures and tempos, ranging from honest undemanding ballads to complex collages of instrumental frills and vocal embellishments.  This time around, he finds a way to combine influences from a collection of artists while maintaining his own unique sound, never feeling overdone or unoriginal. This is truly a breakthrough from Ash Wednesday, and I suggest you pay tribute to his reformation.

Label: XL Recordings

Release Date: Mar 10 2009

Track List:

“Shampoo”
“Hey”
“Hours Last Stand”
“I Heard Your Voice in Dresden”
“Send My Fond Regards to Lonelyville”
“I’ll Be Arriving”
“Chains, Chains, Chains”
“Doomsday”
“123 Goodbye”
“How’s Forever Been Baby”

Frenemies is the nom-de-guerre of one Chris Freeland, sound wizard behind a vast number of your aural experiences in and from this town, regularly working sound at the Talking Head and engineering any number of albums from local artists.  But when he’s not behind the EQ, he makes some pretty fantastic music of his own.  Look no further than his days as drummer for Baltimore legends Oxes.

His Frenemies project has been a bit infrequent lately, rarely playing out and sporadically dropping nuggets of goodness like mana from heaven to a privileged few.  A week or so ago, Chris dropped the Spring-beckoning track “Having Sex” on me and I haven’t been able to turn it off since.

The fantastically playful melody starts things off, simply tapped out on a Casio.  Collaborator Steve Hefter drops some baritone, sleepy vocals to set the mood perfectly as the entire track coasts along at a steady, lackadaisical pace, gliding along like a gentle, smooth breeze on a lazy sunny day.  Your head is swiftly lost in a haze that perfectly mimics that blissful bit of post-coital haze.  A special treat arrives when you find the supporting female harmonics are actually Jenn Wasner’s, her lush voice turning out a Francophone version of the chorus a little over a minute into the affair.  The particularly inspired inclusion of horns-and-hand-claps really gives the track a great, classic lounge feel that conjures nostalgic images of the classic crooners while mixing with the synth melody, closing out the track with gently fading harmonic reprisals of the refrain.

You would do yourself a disservice to not have this song on your spring/summer soundtrack.

MP3: Jacob Fred Jazz Odyssey – Oklahoma Stomp from Winterwood (2009)

MP3: Lafayette Gilchrist – New Jack from New Jack (2005)

I showed up late to the 8×10, but fortunately for me so did JFJO. Due to their typical punishing road schedule, the band was arriving from Brooklyn (where they returned the following day to record an EP) and ran into congestion caused by an accident. This pushed the evening a little later than usual, but the band was gracious, the audience forgiving and all was well.

The 2009 FJO lineup is great. I was a little skeptical that Brian Haas (keyboards) would find someone who  could replace Jason Smart, one of my all-time favorite Ohio drummers, but I was pleasantly surprised by the versatility and rhythmic dimensionality that Josh Raymer brought to the show. He can pull a lot of rabbits out of the trick bag, ranging from hip hop break beats to straight swing.

Having Matt Hayes on upright bass is a welcome addition over the trio, since it provided a constant bottom end that could free up Brian’s left hand to do more intricate comping. For a group that plays a lot of free jazz, it’s nice to have a bass player with less of a melodic role that can hold the song together while Brian Haas is tormenting his Fender Rhodes (at last count in 2006 he told me he had played thirteen electric pianos to death).

JFJO recently released their album Winterwood for for free download

As for Lafayette and the New Volcanoes…nothing sounds like a real piano, but I was let down by the thin sound of the Kurtzwiel electric piano Lafayette played all night.

MP3: Appleseed Cast – Marigold & Patchwork

Though the visual fireworks Wednesday night undoubtedly went to the Faint/Ladytron show, the aural ecstasy hit peak levels on the club stage of Sonar, where newly re-organized DC natives Solar Powered Sun Destroyer channeled a cinematic intensity reminiscent of Danny Boyle’s Sunshine, perfecting the scream and gradually overwhelming roar of the perpetual combustions that fuel a star. Much like a dying sun, their sound conjures images of faded power, gasping for a few last brilliant moments before exhaustion (mirrored by the sweat-drenched and spent bodies of the band at the close of the set). At times, they bore some similarity to early work from Thursday as lead-singer as he took a similar, hardcore-influenced approach to delivering vocals, oscillating between delicately vulnerable to explosively cathartic, always with spring-loaded tension ready to trigger.

Instrumentals waxed and waned similarly as each member was given a chance to shine, emerging from the swirling, heavy din of the group as a unique voice. Particularly impressive was the muscular power and robotic precision of Jimmy Rhodes’ drumming. It all coalesced together into something massive in the most physical sense. It was impossible not gravitate towards them if you were anywhere near their orbit.

The Aussie duo An Horse followed, upping the ante even more. Lead singer Kate Cooper’s Feist-like vocals nimbly punctuating some fantastically tight guitar and drum work. At first blush, their music is relatively simple and effective indie-pop (at least on record), but live it truly blooms into something bigger and better, something more infinitely more immediate and affecting.

Appleseed Cast emerged to bathe the room in intricately weaved aural goodness. Much like their two openers (but multiplied many-fold), the Appleseed Cast exude a gravitational force, a primal invitation to visit dwell and explore the deepest recesses and catacombs of the band member’s collective creative spirit.  If you are big on aural immersion, painted with broad strokes of post-rock, they are for you.  If not, your loss.

Appleseed Cast

An Horse

Solar Powered Sun Destroyer

A few years ago, when I was just getting into “indie” (a term that remains definitionally ambiguous to this day), I went to my first non-Merriweather Post Pavilion concert at the 9:30 Club. I got all jazzed up and went with a friend of mine to DC, thinking we were the most “deck” kids around for going to an “indie” show in a big city. The lineup consisted of Louis XIV, Hot Hot Heat, and the headlining Editors, who seemed radically inventive to me at the time. Upon a casual re-listen, they play like a bunch of guys with reverb pedals and enough time to listen to college radio. The misguided person I was at that point in my life would hold onto White Lies’ To Lose My Life like he did to his copy of Is This It.

What we have here is a less-than-admirable collection of similar-sounding songs in the overdone style of post-Interpol UK indie rock. Their formula is dead obvious in the first 15 seconds of album opener “Death,” with its driving four-four-time bass beat and three-note bass line. Throw in some stringy synthesizers for epic’s sake and guitars to place emphasis, come up with a harmony-inflected chorus and a bridge to foreshadow the final repetition and you’ve got yourself a full track! Of course, none of the music escapes from its pentatonic cage; White Lies stick to their guns on To Lose My Life, consistently starting with the drums/bass/synth foundation and building straight up like an architect bereft of inspiration.

Single “Farewell To The Fairground” follows this equation to its very end. The video accompanying the track shows everything cliche about music videos to a horrid degree. Skinny guys working out, some dude walking through a desolate landscape, mouthing the words as if they had some artistic association to the scenery. Bonus points to White Lies for those jingly staccato guitar bits in the verse, but as they continue the repulsive bridge (”keep on running/keep on running/there’s no place like home/there’s no place like home”) right through the three-minute mark, they turn the scales just enough to make the transition from second-rate indie rock to “Really? Really really?”

If you pay attention to the finer elements of the album, you’ll find at least one or two praiseworthy qualities, one of which is the sterling production. The percussion shows itself to be crisp and refined, and the synth and guitar effects sound so precisely tuned that they rival that of the 80’s new wave elite. There are no mistakes made on To Lose My Life, never a note out of place, nothing, but maybe that contributes to the album’s problematic conception.

Perfection takes the life out of things. One of the biggest issues put forth on To Lose My Life is that it almost feels like robots recorded the whole thing between shifts at the take-over-the-world factory. The immaculate production, combined with mathematical song structure and the overall lack of creativity provide the impression that an artist never even touched the record.

“Unfinished Business”  runs like the unwanted B-side off the twenty-years-off Interpol reunion album I hope they never make, complete with chamber organs and the stern vocals of Harry McVeigh introducing an absurdly familiar recollection of any gentler post-punk tune. The sincerity they attempt to invoke in these tracks, elsewhere duplicated on “Nothing To Give,”  is completely lost through the layers of production and the complete lack of personality presented throughout To Lose My Life.

Comparatively speaking though, this album isn’t half-bad.  Judged against the more popular Nickelbacks and Hinders of the world, one might find White Lies to be damn near ingenious. The few-years-ago me that I spoke of earlier would surely think so. I only wish that this is what the average rock radio DJ would pump through the airwaves, because I think we’ve all heard just about enough Trapt for one lifetime (looking at you, deceased 99.1 ‘HFS).

And that’s something, right?

Label: Fiction

Release Date: January 19 2009

Track list:

1. Death
2. To Lose My Life
3. A Place to Hide
4. Fifty on Our Foreheads
5. Unfinished Business
6. E.S.T.
7. From the Stars
8. Farewell to the Fairground
9. Nothing to Give
10. The Price of Love

MP3: Gojira – Clone from Terra Incognita

MP3: Katy Perry – Hot ‘N’ Cold (feat. Yelle)

MP3: Plastic Bertrand – Le Petit Tortillard from An 1

MP3: J.P.M. and Co – Plus jamais ça from Psychoses Freakoid 1963-1981

MP3: Ludwig Von 88 – Baby from La révolution n’est pas un diner de gala

MP3: Joseph Canteloube – Baïlèro from Chants d’Auvergne

MP3: Edith Piaf – Padam…Padam…

MP3: Daft Punk – Phoenix from Homework

So I’m heading off to Paris for a week of R&R.  Updates will be a tad sparse while I’m out.  But I figured I’d leave you with a smorgasbord of French flavors that span decades, styles and genres.

From the smooth, somnambulic flow of rapper MC Solaar, to the brutality of modern metalheads Gojira, and  punk  both modern (Ludwig Von 88) and early (Belgian Plastic Betrand). From doggedly cultish and eclectic offerings of classic outsider/weirdo producer Jean-Pierre Massiera and the oft-esoteric electronic superstars Daft Punk, to the painstaking collecting and arranging of French folksongs by Joseph Canteloube and plenty of mainstream offerings from the iconic Edith Piaf and to recent international star Yelle.  French artists provide some great offerings for musical canon.

A semaine prochaine!

MP3: Imperial China – Mortal Wombat (Live from Aural States Fest 2009)

One of DC’s finest, and one of our favorite local artists (Imperial China) were in the famed Inner Ear Studios this past weekend recording their full-length, set to drop later this year with Devin Ocampo on the boards.  We took some shots.

My roommate silently stalked over to my computer and asked what I was listening to.

“The new Title Tracks single,” I replied. Looking over my shoulder at the four or five possible concepts I had sprawled out on a sheet of printer paper, he asked if I was writing about this song. “Yes,” I said, trying to quiet his apparent suspicion. He began to chuckle as he stared at my notes. I asked him what he’s laughing at, to which he responded: “Nolan, it’s a freaking pop song.  Quit analyzing it like one of your David Byrne albums or something.”

He probably walked off mumbling something about a punk band, but I wasn’t listening. He was right about one thing there: Title Tracks (and their debut single, Every Little Bit Hurts) does not attempt to revitalize pop music.  In fact, I think it’s safe to say Title Tracks do nothing but add to the already-crowded guitar pop genre.

That being said, “Found Out,” the better half of Every Little Bit Hurts, shows a lot of promise from these DC indie-poppers. It stars some extra-tense guitars working like a loaded spring, only gaining a moment’s rest during the pop-standard chorus.

The sugar-soaked tune (clocking in at a whopping 2:35) is just long enough to allow a fair amount of familiarity, but somehow feels like it could still use some trimming. The first verse introduces itself like a walk through an uncomfortable neighborhood at 3AM, and before you know any better, it transforms itself into a liberating power-chorded refrain.  It just gets a little irritating when you hear the same chorus for the third time in less than three minutes, almost as if you know they simply decided to throw in the once-delightful bit wherever they could.

Title Tracks seem to have this issue all over their single. While each individual piece of any given song is strong, their copy/paste outlook ruins much of the enjoyability that may have been possible. If they clean up their song structure a little bit, I’ll be looking forward to see what these guys do with an album.

MP3: Asobi Seksu – Familiar Light from Hush (2009)

A few weeks ago, I loaded Hush into my media player and the delicate voice of Japanese Yuki Chicudate began to fill my bedroom with dreamy trailing synth and modest ruptures of rhythmic drum. Her lyrics were intricate and poetic—uttered in angelic speech, dominant but not overbearing. Tracks fluctuated between sedated, down-tempo melodies to avant-garde like that of Chairlift’s indie pop.

I pictured delicate rendition with composed deliverance, anticipating a show that could, quite possibly, trigger tears. Finally, I’m standing face to face with the foursome in a packed Rock and Roll Hotel in DC, but what’s to come in the live performance I am not prepared for in the least.

Asobi Seksu can be roughly translated to “playful sex,” but don’t let the petite lead singer fool you. She will rip your head off.

Opening with “Sing Tomorrow’s Praise,” the band plays with heavy distortion, ear-ringing and mind-numbing by the end of the night. Although the tracks are almost equally chosen from albums Citrus and Hush, reverb and melded vocals make the set blend into one long, vibrating piece. Unpredicted, in a good way. The grungy shoegaze elements stretch across all twelve songs, heavy but comforting, like a sexy devil.

A few minutes later, “Mehnomae” opens with tambourine rattles and thundering echoes, less dainty than the recorded translation that juxtaposed Yuki’s saintly ballads. Citrus’ “Strawberries” is even better through the live reinterpretation. Here, the instruments play a stronger role, leaving the lyrics behind as more a faint accented background flutter than the focal point. Stage presence tonight is key, a recurring theme of dark and light, watching the small frame of the Japansese vocalist sway to the engrossing fuzz of an amplifier. Surprisingly, the version of “Thursday” is not too far from the pressed release, pop still apparent and not exchanged for grumbling noise. The sound escalates, picking up speed and building with the opening verse “On gentle ground/ I waited for you/ In drops of dew/ I wished that were you”. Personally, “Thursday” was the one I was looking out for, so I’m grateful its execution was not far off from the source.

“Red Sea” topped off the set, synths wrapping around tugs at a deep bass guitar. Chicudate re-attaches her microphone to the stand and replaces the drummer behind his massive intrument, banging her head as she bows her body with the motion, suspending the song in mid-air for a few extra minutes before walking off stage.

I found Asobi Seksu difficult to get tired of, but at some point, the sound became repetitive, exciting me when the intensity shifted even the smallest measure. Overdrive became irritating, oppressing the beauty in Chicudate’s odes, but I applaud the unpredictable rendering of both albums. Although Hush was unleashed just recently, tracks from Citrus were more multifaceted and progressive. Perhaps the time they’ve had to work with the older pieces built up their courage to transform them. I’ll wait to see if the same happens for Hush.

Enter to win 2 free tickets to the show at Sonar, Sat Apr 25th.  Just comment this post (or email us

Winner will be drawn at random next Wednesday Apr 22!

MP3: Simian Mobile Disco – Sleep Deprivation from Attack Decay Sustain Release

MP3: Justice v. Simian – We Are Your Friends from We Are Your Friends vinyl

MP3: Tittsworth – WTF (featuring Kid Sister, Pase Rock) from 12 Steps

MP3: Triobelisk – Xrystal Eye from 1

Resident Baltimore super-promoters Taxlo score another big-name coup de grace for one of their flagship events: their 7th anniversary kick-off at Sonar featuring UK electro-fiends Simian Mobile Disco. Skyrocketed into notoriety by a flurry of blog-friendly remixes of indie-rock hype tracks and standards, as well as themselves being remixed.  Their track,  ”Never Be Alone” (recorded under their more rock-oriented incarnation Simian), was redone to much fanfare by a little French duo known as Justice.

SMD unabashedly take the typically dense and self-insulating genre of electronica, and reconstruct it from the ground up with a bit of much needed populist humility and a noticeably more focused goal: digestable and interesting dance music.

Almost all of their tracks orbit a single, often simple hook, sometimes accented by an ultra-catchy vocal chorus, and they proceed to grow and develop the hell out of it for, on average, the span of a lengthy pop song.  And they are one of the few who can successfully do so, essentially abbreviating the tenets of electronica into something that isn’t so imposing to the average non-circuit head. But they manage to do so while leaving intact aspects of merit to appeal to those discerning aficionados, weaving in influences and nuggets from electronic icons like Daft Punk and Aphex Twin and utilizing all manner of analog-electro gear that would make suitable fodder for any electro-nerd’s wet dream.

Add in their opening support Feadz, Tittsworth and Triobelisk, and you’ve got a guaranteed party that commences the commingling of populism and quality into one big sweaty former parking garage.

Big flier after the jump.

Also, stay tuned for more with DC’s Triboelisk aka Shelby Cinca in to celebrate the newly reunited post-hardcore legends Frodus’ return to Baltimore next month.