Message Amplified Productions

Director Andrew R. Carbone's Demo Reel

noreply@blogger.com (Message Amplified Productions) — Fri, 12 Dec 2008 17:38:00 -0800

2008's boundless web-video audience requires no less than magnanimously credible viewer-generated themes and content writhing with immediacy, begging for viewer acceptance as a conversation tool. My content incorporates the rhetoric of filmmaking and publicity in the age of youtube and viral, that promotion equals information, and the formulaic pitch is both the rubric and the vehicle for the transmission of unsolicited human experience.

MORE MEDIA COMING SOON

Punch People Live Clip

noreply@blogger.com (Message Amplified Productions) — Mon, 7 Jan 2008 19:40:00 -0800

Produced/Directed/Shot by Andrew Carbone

Music Passion Love: A music docu. trailer

noreply@blogger.com (Message Amplified Productions) — Tue, 22 May 2007 09:12:00 -0700

Click Here or the Picture to view movie

PLEASE LET THE WINDOW SIT FOR A FEW MINUTES EVEN IF IT APPEARS NOTHING IS HAPPENING

This is a hired project made into a documentary trailer via an abundance in material. Its a Loyola University New Orleans student story of how he came to find music passion and love at the University. Included is his background, musical and otherwise, and thoughts on the future after graduating and potentially being separated from the friends who contributed to the theme the title represents.

Type: Digital Story/Documentary Trailer/Live Music Performance/Interview

Trailer/Promo: New Orleans Rock group Punch People

noreply@blogger.com (Message Amplified Productions) — Mon, 21 May 2007 22:01:00 -0700

Click Here to view video

PLEASE LET WINDOW SIT FOR A FEW MINUTES EVEN IF IT SEEMS NOTHING IS HAPPENING

This is a short raw edit of a promotional video for the New Orleans rock band "Punch People". Enjoy!

Art Punk Kid

noreply@blogger.com (Message Amplified Productions) — Fri, 15 Dec 2006 21:15:00 -0800

http://ia331313.us.archive.org/2/items/AndrewRayArtPunkKid/Art_Punkid.mp4

its a video collage, I hope its not obnoxious i like it a lot, its something i made in college

P.S. me accompanied by my song on guitar

Cultura Argentina: Jazz Underground

noreply@blogger.com (Message Amplified Productions) — Sat, 25 Nov 2006 23:18:00 -0800

Or Click Here to view video

While the discotheques start to shake across town, a more soft and thoughtful mood is set in Buenos Aires Argentina. Locals convene to share stories of daily life, lend an ear, or even bring along a saxophone, bass guitar or some drum sticks to sit in on a stage armed with Jazz instruments. While the discotheques may be hot, the Jazz Underground Buenos Aires is the warmest place on Earth.

http://ia331313.us.archive.org/0/items/MessageAmplifiedProductions_11/Argentina_Buenos_Aires_Jazz_Undergroundv.1.mp4

Royal Menu Samplers Mock Advertisement

noreply@blogger.com (Message Amplified Productions) — Tue, 21 Nov 2006 12:56:00 -0800

Here is my mock advertisement debut, although its the second I've shot. The first will be up soon. ENJOY!

Click Here to view funny video.

La Copa Mundial Argentina: World Cup 2006

noreply@blogger.com (Message Amplified Productions) — Fri, 18 Aug 2006 12:47:00 -0700

This film encapsulates the energy, the loyalty, and the lifestyle that is futbol in Argentina. After the overtime win to Mexico in the second round, Buenos Aires explodes in celebration and comraderie. After the quarter final loss in double overtime, penalty kicks, to the Germany, who would place 3rd in the world, Buenos Aires is shocked and dissapointed, but our host Danny Sherrill returns to the Obelisc, the original place of celebration for a surprising amount of hope.

Traduccion de englais en el video para ustedes hablantes de espanol y CASTELLLJJJAAAAANO (les amo).

Hola, la copa mundial 2006, Buenos Aires Argentina. Tienen el soporto de la confianza, de la gente...Acaban de vencer Mexico, un rival latinoamericano, y ahora se van a encontrarse con alemania, y la ciudad esta viva. Banderas...todos...la gente...amando, personas gritando...la gente...anxiosa para el proximo partido. Un beso entre culturas. Ok, le doy un beso. Dame un beso. Me quedo? Un poquito, no se que paso. Ok, por fin llegamos al obelisco, y hay miles de personas aqui. Todos estan sangrando blanco y azul, hasta si se esta extranjero. "Peso! Cuanto peso el es?" "El que no salta.." "Tomate un trago!" Wow eso fue intenso!" (??) Vamos a hacerse estupido esta noche, vamos a divertirse con todos los argentinos-mira! Mira que pasa detras de vos! "...como en 86..."
Estamos subteraneo/subsuelo ahora (?), y ese tipo me acaba de agarrar. Y sabes que vamos a ir a casa, y- "What's you're name?" (Como te llamas) "y Vamos Argentina, el viernes que viene vamos a ganar." Nos vemos el proximo viernes.

Acaban de perder en penales. Hay sentido que la ciudad esta perdida. Todo este tiempo en cuando la copa esta pasando, ha estado sentido que, somos Argentina, hacemos futbol...nosotros hacemos futbol. Y ahora es como, regresar a moler supongo que dirias.

Bueno, aunque perdieron, me parece que hay un sentido poderoso de orgullo y...no se es algo agridulce, casi...hay mucha gente aqui golpeando tambores, y haciendo muchas cosas que vimos la ultima semana. Pero obviamente no tan asombrosa como fue la ultima semana. Tuvimos mucho para esperar hoy. Fue un partido increible. Es genial para ver que la gente aqui todavia se diviertan. Preparan para en 4 anos en SurAfrica. Pregunto cuando la copa va a pasar por Argentina, va a ser un tiempo tremendo.

Show Review: Surprise Me, Mr. Davis ft. The Slip and Nathan Moore: Self-Referencial Troubadours, Telling Music's Story

noreply@blogger.com (Message Amplified Productions) — Mon, 16 Jan 2006 15:16:00 -0800

In the dimly lit enclaves at the entranceway to The Knitting Factory, amongst a waiting line, a young woman in a flowing unrestricting beige dress and hastily tied brown hair approaches two punk rock dudes. Their tight jeans and ink-black-dyed choppy hairstyles speak that they belong to a different show, but the girl isn’t listening. She asks them hopefully which show they’re there to see, and they respond unenthusiastically and unintelligibly. A voice from the line offers “The Slip”. “Yeah,” she responds, “but they’re playing under a different name tonight.”

“The Slip” records and releases many live tracks and albums. Their valuation of the live show environment parallels the freedom of their written and studio recorded works, both of which attract a strong following in the Northeast and beyond. The music has unconventionally long melody phrases, reserved and intuitive amounts of vocals, and a curiosity for obscure sounds, rhythms, filters and textures.

There seems to be vagueness, though, in the definition of the new project fertilized by the jazz-inspired, celestial but rock-solidified trio, “The Slip” with singer/songwriter Nathan Moore, at least for the woman in the beige dress. The collaboration has been playing together for months, recorded a limited edition Ep, and had some pretty decent press coverage regarding their origin and makeup. Perhaps the woman and other listeners don’t care much for names or definitions, an attitude the group might not disagree with. It may be, in fact, the group’s intention, to undertake a vaguely defined, hoodwinking voyage, they call “Surprise Me, Mr. Davis”.

“Surprise Me, Mr. Davis” was finishing a tour, with Nathan Moore, who is responsible for a substantial portion of the songs “Surprise Me Mr. Davis” plays. What’s more, Moore seems to suggest filling the role of a lead singer. At The Knitting Factory Nathan Moore would appear almost sure of his place at stage front and center. His frequent retreats to regroup with the band and the non-obligatory spontaneity of the verses however would let the crowd know in true “Slip” style, that there was no conventional captain of their ship.

The Opening band, a “jam band” called the “Underground Orchestra”, played organized banter led by Carlos Santana tribute-sounding guitar licks. Each short guitar phrase forecasted three additional occurrences in balanced form. Their percussionist expectantly peered into a crowd prompted to ponder his business on the stage, (he was hard to hear and unexciting to watch) until he was audacious enough to reveal his role as the band’s spokesperson between songs. Their five to seven minute journeys denied the possibility that a single instrument could be beautiful by itself. Leaving no instrument alone, "Underground Orchestra" filled the air efficiently but far too cautiously.

“Surprise Me, Mr. Davis”, also referred to as a jam band at times, took the stage like a breath of fresh air. The quartet immediately acknowledged their individual intuitions in the opening number, clapping their hands and singing harmonies without the intrusion of instruments. Nevertheless, they did jam, meant in the successfully integrated and exciting definition of the word, rather than the classification.

“Surprise Me, Mr. Davis” navigated the trusty Knitting Factory show through abrupt rhythm patterns and barreling jovial numbers, stopping to entertain with magic tricks and anecdotes. “Whenever we stop surprising each other, then the music is dead.” Moore explained after the show.

The informal environment created by the unfilled, spacious room and Nathan’s humble stories of life on the road did not dissuade those in the front from dancing and swaying to energetic and somber songs alike. In response to the instrumentation’s troubadour-tale saunter personification of the title “Rubber Ball”, two young women in the audience held hands, trapping a man between them who bounced off their arms as a perimeter, towards and away from the stage.

“Surprise Me, Mr. Davis” got comfortable and told their story on stage, refusing to patronize the status quo-savvy or genre-loyal elitists. Moore and guitarist/vocalist Brad Barr doubled vocal melodies, accepting the fact that their voices would not hit the exact same frequencies, rejecting a uniform and polished sound. Drummer Andrew Barr spawned a 20-measure rhythm intro while the strings tuned, and Brad on guitar took rejuvenating sips of his amp-resting beverage mid-song because hey, that’s what a lead guitarist is good for. He rested his guitar slide on the strings like a pro-figure skater on ice, gracefully in control. Also with the intuition to make some rhythm, Moore patted his un-amplified leg while he sang ‘cause Barr had the rhythm covered, using maracas and tambourines on his kit. “Ahhhhhhh, ha ha ha ha ha.” Moore laughed to the beat.
At times it appeared “Surprise Me, Mr. Davis”’ originality resided too much on its imperfection though, and it was obvious by the audience’s response to the one “Slip” song played that they longed for the trio’s work. “Surprise Me, Mr. Davis” at times too heavily resembled Tom Petty, Bob Dylan and other sounds from those eras, a resemblance hidden on the Ep mostly by modern “big” sounding drums and other arrangements. Molasses slow blues progressions and quirky “doo-bee-doo” vocal harmonies sounded almost satirical of the artists who championed those sounds such as American blues artists and “The Doobie Brothers” respectively. “The Slip”’s songs, in contrast, are some of the most well contemplated clairvoyant and free in popular music. The rhythms change like a patch of wind in response to a new low-pressure zone, fresh but domestic. The ambiance is surreal. When Moore started telling stories about living in his car, the woman in the beige dress might have considered the possibility that “The Slip” picked him up off the side of the road. Her smile in the audience showed that she didn’t care.

“The Slip” appears to have been more concerned with collaborating with a friend than a musician, a combination bearing more than just musical notes. Nathan proclaimed that he was honored to play with them and they reciprocated by carrying him to the stage for the encore. “Surprise Me, Mr. Davis” has a story to tell, which is more than many contemporary artists can say for themselves. They exemplify the classic meaning of a touring band, self-referential troubadours telling music’s story, asking the listener for commitment neither to trend or genre, but for open eyes and ears.

The Possibilitees

noreply@blogger.com (Message Amplified Productions) — Fri, 13 Jan 2006 22:41:00 -0800

This is my first demo. It was produced as a favor/ Loyola Marymount charity project by a producer (credits: Hillary Duff, Hush...) in Malibu.

Click Here or the picture to hear the song.

Punk/rock/screamo/funk/catharsis

This song represents to me, literally, humanity's tragic flaw, in that we are limited to life and death. However, I believe in the sublime, that we can catch glimpses of infinity, the sublime in life and art, and the combination of these two realizations equals catharsis, awe and humility.

The Moon is Made of Cheese: Diamond Nights at The Troubadour, Hollywood, Mon. Nov. 14th

noreply@blogger.com (Message Amplified Productions) — Fri, 18 Nov 2005 04:38:00 -0800

The song that plays when entering diamond-nights.com is preceded by an epic intro of growing synthetic tone, and begins with pompous, yet welcoming and familiar rock-metal muted guitar syncopation. The song is a sound inspiring the image of smiling knights galloping on horseback, or a longhaired guitar player strumming with one foot resting on his floor monitor, chin to the sky. As one reminisces to juxtapose a happier version of the 1980’s-90’s metal band, “Megadeth”, Diamond Nights, whose dove-infested logo sits upon a website donning a black and grey motif of clouds and space, seems to be joking, perhaps satirizing, or heaven help us, paying tribute to 80’s-90’s arena rock. The lead singer, in the subsequent vocal, does not sound like he’s joking one bit. Additionally, when listening further, the melodic syncopation and descending drum fills concluding measures are rather endearing and morale boosting (?) (To compliment the whole galloping knight nuance). The lead vocalist’s falsetto breakdowns still seem satirical, and after scoping the supporting acts on Monday night’s bill at the Troubadour, the first time listener begins to see the light, or hear “The Darkness”.
The main supporting act was “Kennedy”, a band fronted by a prominent lead singer, styling a geek-mod split end hair mop and sunglasses bestowed with small rhinestones (real or fake?). In their necessarily high-priced music video most prominent on the website, Kennedy is without the band between a colorful fantastic disco-land and a classroom singing the chorus: “Nobody loves you, like your momma loves you, but who’s lovin your momma? I am, I am”, to a group of elementary school students. When the mother comes to pick her son up from school it appears she is the one in detention as her son is locked out of the classroom, and he slouches to the floor and begins to cry.
Before Diamond Nights enters the stage, the first time listener, post-website analysis, has definitively concluded that the headliner would begin the show with a gimmick or joke, sporting wild costumes or employing wacky personalities. There are no gimmicks, or costumes or wild impersonations suggesting a satirical position however. They play the same terribly cliché ambient buildup to their recognizable single from the web site. The band simply rocks out and even has the audacity to leave the stage littered with their instruments for a club employee to reassemble, in true rock-god style before the first encore.
The music is fun and upbeat though, and they switch from cold raw rock n roll, like leftovers from the refrigerator, to bass-drum-on-the-quarter-note disco beats, which have become so popular among 80’s revival dance-scene youngsters. The resident disco ball is utilized to its full potential. The syncopation becomes almost impressive, or at least eminent and appealing during odd time signatures. The drummer is having the time of his life (as is his sister consequently, who paraded through the audience declaring their relation). The obviously experienced lead singer is infallibly running the show and communicates effectively with the eager and embracing crowd. “Have you guys ever heard of this band, they’re called Diamond Nights out of New York?” he repeats throughout the night spawning increasingly eager conclusions of applause, “I hear they’re really great”. The rest of the band sweats profusely in acknowledgement.
The music is fun, but surely the crowd must realize the complete unoriginality and bastardization of 80’s and 90’s straight rock coming out of the speakers. Turning away from the stage at front and center of the audience, its easy to realize that the amalgamation of mostly style neglecting audience hasn’t been taking notes on the stepping stones of rock n roll. Rather they’re satisfied with the upbeat danceable rock passed their way and they have no reason to complain. Diamond Nights is the practical version of progressive rock, the workingman’s rock. They hold on to what worked in the past and ponder the extent of its late popularity (hence the term “Arena Rock”). Whether they are perceived as energetic, nostalgic, satirical or a joke, somewhere tonight, in this vast universe, Diamond Nights is taking an audience to outer space.