Good video for the season…although as I am sure everyone would agree, the whole concept of a band playing in a field, with the camera circling around is a bit played out. The cynics like me can’t help but think about how much they’re faking…I mean they are being filmed pretending to sing and play their instruments. It’s kinda weird….contrived…But the band is good and it’s seasonal so it plays on Foxtrott. I like the pumpkins…nice touch…
My first instinct would be to say screw AOL’s spinner.com. But they are distributing Darla Farmer’s live Mercury Lounge album for free, so suppose I can’t disrespect them too much. The show is a product of a collaboration between the band, Magic Hat Brewing Company, and vancar.tv. Below is some video of the show and a link to download the music.
Here is a excerpt from an album review for Rewiring the Electric Forest, released in 2008 by Paper Garden Records:
“The burlesque attitude of Darla Farmer is delicious. The bright eccentricities sound as if they were lifted out of a carnival sideshow. Rather than overcompensating for the inherent problems that come with recording horn sections, the loose and live feel of the horns was captured and exploited very tastefully. Too often these types of recordings come off sounding like metronomed midi files, but the dirt is left on and the atmosphere is kept thick.”
-FF
Download the live Mercury Lounge Show here
http://www.myspace.com/darlafarmer
http://www.papergardenrecords.com
Upcoming Tour Dates
9/11 – Nashville, TN @ Cannery Ballroom (Rabbit Release Party)
10/1 – Montreal, QB @ Syndrome (Paper Garden Records music & art party)
11/14 – New York, NY @ 3rd Ward (Paper Garden Records presents: Multiverse Playground)
Beirut
March of the Zapotec EP
Realpeople: Holland EP
January 27th 2009
Pompeii Records
Using his trip to Oaxaca, Mexico as fodder, Zach Condon has brought home March of the Zapotec, the first disc of a double EP released in late January. Mr. Condon inserts roughly 30 seconds of what sounds like a street marching band as an intro to the record. The track is aptly named El Zócalo after El Zócolo Plaza in Oaxaca. The two names are permutations of the same word referring to an open, public square—a space where music, rhythm and public life can unfold. This voyeuristic reference perfectly captures the records inspirational center. Oaxacan traditional brass bands, who possibly share roots with Balkan traditional music as a result of European military expansion into the region in the 18th century, are a perfect appendage to Beirut’s already rustic appeal. The Band Jimenez, a 19 piece band from Teotitlán del Valle in Oaxaca, backs Condon as he synthesizes a genealogical connection between the two worlds of Mexico and Eastern Europe. It is quintessential Beirut, whose somber tone is accentuated with a marvelous old-world beauty fused with indigenousness and romantic antiquity.
The second half of the double EP is released in part under Zach Condon’s pre-Beirut name Realpeople. The five track disc is essentially Mr. Condon and a drum machine. Though his signature baritone vibrato is anchored in an Ernest Hemingway novel, with the Holland EP, he extends his hands forward. Rather than join two points on an atlas he marries two different eras, allowing the double EP, in its entirety, to comment on both time and space. Make no mistake, songs like No Dice and My Night With a Prostitute From Marseille have a Casio-tone, early house quality that many may not appreciate, especially those who gravitated toward Beirut because of the band’s authentic musicianship. In all, Holland proclaims to committed fans and critics alike that Zach Condon will not be boxed in by anyone. Even if what he does best is what we have come to know as Beirut, we should not believe he has no other aspirations or prospective direction. Condon appeals to the most saccharine elements of electronic music in a way that recontextualizes and renews his creativity. It was not a misstep so to speak, but it was dangerous. Lucky for us all, Condon’s newest proclamation is nearly as relevant as those that came before.
-FF
Tomoroh Hidari
Also Spoke Zerothruster
January 23rd 2009
Record Label Records
Oliver Strummer, as he is known to his mother, put out a 12” with one of our favorite electronic labels Record Label Records. His 4 track beat graffiti called Also Spoke Zerothruster is a versatile soundscape. Its function and form has the twitchy clicks of acidic electronica, but these rhythmic sequences are enveloped in the ambient spaces of white noise and clipped vocals. Nothing is perhaps the most tempo-regular track of the record. While it might be too cavernous to be played by itself in a club setting, like other tracks on the record, these beats will be attractive to disc jockeys looking for perfect production of abstract sequencing. It will add a unique mélange to any standard set, disobeying the cookie cutter formulations of so much of electronic music.
Also Spoke Zerothruster continues with Extinction Event, a broad combination fast paced bass beats, even faster tweeter piercing accents, and pitch oscillating noises. The track fluctuates between steady, danceable rhythms and individualistic synth melodies. At times Extinction Event reminds me of Peter and the Wolf as conceived of in the world of Tron. The final track, Who Shot the Jazz Drummer, is Tomoroh Hidari at his most ethereal. This dream-state recollection of some jazz moment is almost completely devoid of rhythm. There is virtually no drum, save the occasional bass jimbay and iron pot and spoon dull chime. As short as it is, Also Spoke Zerothruster is a multifaceted, multifocal collection.
6/9
-FF
Darla Farmer and Wintersleep are starting 2009 with bright proclamations.This week Wintersleep are #26 on the College Music Journal’s Top 200 chart. They released Welcome to the Night Sky last November and have toured with a number of great acts including Wolf Parade. Their mix of calculated, guitar driven rock gives Canada a good name. They left us wondering, what is in their water… just how many bands can Canada export? They are now touring their homeland and will zip over to Europe February 10th. They will be back in the US soon enough though, and we’ll be happy to welcome them.
Darla Farmer, after releasing their 2008 debut Rewiring the Electric Forest on Paper Garden Records, and touring with a slew of notable artists, has landed a spot on NPR’s All Things Considered. The spot is sure to expose their circus sideshow to millions. They are also rereleasing last year’s debut on February 17th. Check out both of these fine bands and your ears will be kindly rewarded.
Wintersleep- Welcome to the Night Sky Review
Darla Farmer- Rewiring the Electric Forest Review
-FF
Zephuros- Great White Egret
Zephuros
The Drowned Coast
August 23, 2008
Unsigned
Over the last month or so, I have been trying to settle my opinions of a lone singer/song-writer from Athens, Ohio named Kevin Meyer, known to the music world as Zephuros. He makes no secret of his man-love for Chicago musician Andrew Bird; and I can’t say there isn’t a sort of apprentice quality to Meyer’s newest release, The Drowned Coast. The album unabashedly revolves around the animal kingdom. Every song lauds the bucolic life of feathered critters among or some other doey-eyed tree or sea dwellers. It is as if Zeph imagines his arranged flutes, clarinets, and strings have the ambiance of Peter and the Wolf. He wanted to produce something intrinsically beautiful. The album is segmented by instrumental movements meant to melodically capture the soft pink shades of sunrise, sunset, and all the waking life in between. This grandeur is only reinforced by comparisons from friendly home media.
“By the impression left by his music, Meyer comes off as the type of person who, despite eye-rolling annoyance from certain friends (read: the articles author), would just feel wrong setting up mouse traps or squashing a bug.
Perhaps what feels wrong above all, however, is that The Drowned Coast’s seemingly simple acoustic songs about animals can, and at some point probably will, bring listeners to tears. The reason for this is simple: Zephuros’ wildlife lyrics reflect more insight into human nature than those of many young singer-songwriters today.”
Hyperbole permeates every letter of the above review—and I love hyperbole. However, this does a severe disservice to Zephuros’ most attractive attributes. Zephuros doesn’t need another review that explains to the C.S. Lewis reading, coffee house egos why they should listen to him.
This record says very little about human nature.
This record will never make me—or any of you—cry.The lyrics are interesting, ranging from nondescript platitudes to observational non sequiturs. Seeing a snowflake on a leopard’s spine is an image of novelty; it is one among many that work to create a folksy sense of Earth-as-Art. Oceanic emeralds and tender touches from the brisk breeze exemplify a body of lyrics concerned more with aesthetics than content. But that is the extent of Mr. Meyer’s troubles. If only the rest of us were lucky enough to be flawed only by an absurd obsession with form.
Zephuros’ collection of crystalline melody is near perfect. The orchestration is at once humble and gigantic. The opposing forces of The Drowned Coast underscore Zephuros’ most exceptional quality. He is able to write and arrange with depth and charisma, while maintaining an aura of wonderment and innocent ambition. When I hear this man and his band, I am reminded of Schroeder, or an unsure, unsteady Nick Drake. The likeness comes not from any obvious influence, but from an underlying spirit of contemplative adventure. All of Zeph’s worth is invested in that spirit—what is unknown and inquisitive to human nature. The Drowned Coast does not reveal anything to us. Rather more descriptively, it comforts our lost and inextricably incomplete sense of self. His words are not experiential, they are observational. Zephuros does not write about wildlife, he writes about the most mundane and beautifully banal humanlife.
-FF
http://www.myspace.com/zephuros
Other Music
The Black Gull- 2007
The Real Tuesday Weld
The London Book of the Dead
August 28th, 2007
Six Degrees
London Book of the Dead is a noir dream. When met with heavy eyelids it imagines a world of midnight blacks and Jessica Rabbit reds. It emotes the warmth suffered under the lights of a burlesque stage, and the nostalgic chill of a near empty bar—dimly lit for the sake of confidentiality. A symbiosis of electronic accents and vinyl imperfections, this dose of art and sex isn’t so much conceptual as it is invocative, shuttling between clarinet swing and sampled sound bytes. I can’t help but imagine that Stephen Coates considers himself a fan of Matt Johnson’s eclectic style. Although this should come as no surprise; both men are clearly influenced by the myriad of soundscapes carved from the social soil of the early to mid twentieth century. It is a project that reaches back to an already immortal era to inflict the markings of post-modernity on what some would claim to be the golden age of music. It refuses the paradigmatic egocentricity of generational degeneracy. The jazz/rag era was not the end of history.
London Book of the Dead is medicated schizophrenia. Among the collage of gypsy strings, cabaret, and Brit pop, Coates sometimes sounds as if he is trapped in a Steamboat Willie world, contained by a two-dimensional, cartoonish fantasy. The record’s most manic moments can be uneven and discomfiting. But if the project is properly understood, it reveals a beautiful and sentimental creation that acknowledges the compromises we make against our own character and the distance we are from our idealized life. Self-inflicted wounds are often the rule rather than the exception. The music of London Book is dense and rich with acute attention to detail. The textural mapping of electronic beats over organic instruments is not necessarily the newest approach to music making, but Coates is effective nontheless. While every song on the record may not be appropriate for every mood, every song has its proper context; and in that context it succeeds, sometimes with stunning perfection— often a most gorgeous sedative.
-FF
http://www.myspace.com/therealtuesdayweld
http://www.tuesdayweld.com
Other Music
At The House Of The Clerkenwell Kid- 2001
I, Lucifer- 2002
Les Aperitifs et Les Digestifs- 2004
The Return of the Clerkenwell Kid- 2005
“Dreams That Money Can Buy”- 2006
At the End of the World- 2008
The Volunteers
Spectrophilia
October 23rd 2008
Unsigned
The Volunteers- FckMyGhost
It seems as though Volunteers front man Dan Goddard took on a wager. I imagine he boasted, with inebriated mettle, that he could write a song about anything…just name it. In this concocted explanation of mine, a whiskey pickled friend shouted back a reply, one that would truly challenge the stature of Goddard’s authorial prowess… “Ghost fucking; write a song about ghost fucking!” Not one to go back on his word, Goddard took pen to paper and rattled out the little masterpiece FckMyGhost. In usual style, the song is laden with debauchery and the most splendid male chauvinism. In terms of rock ethics, Goddard makes it clear that he fucks even when he is dead. My favorite thing about this band, other than the punchy, expletive laden folk-rock, is their videos. Featuring scantily clad women always wins in my book. I don’t know what is going on between Death and Mr. Goddard, but I know I like that bikini. The Volunteers exude a particular hedonistic aura that will always be appreciated. They embody Dov Charney’s work ethic to a tee.
The Brooklyn band released their newest record Spectrophilia in late October. Topically, the band branches out. They explore the art of political diatribe in Danger Everywhere You Turn and mention their amusing scenester woes in Namedropper, but these sincere moments are sparsely strewn between gravelly expressions of booze adulation. The Volunteers occupy an interesting space between idealized maturity and recklessness. They are a worthwhile slice of New York Americana. I can’t wait for their next video…
-FF
http://www.thevolunteersrock.com
http://www.myspace.com/thevolunteers
Watch For Yourself
Wax Fang
La La Land
Don’t Panic! Records
October 14, 2008
Wax Fang- World War II (Pt. 2)
It has been erroneously said that Wax Fang’s music is “otherworldly,” perhaps because of their Brian Eno and David Bowie fascination. No tastemaker’s descriptives can challenge the fact that neither Scott Carney’s voice nor the band’s high powered style is alien to our ears. It would not surprise me in the least if I were to turn the radio on while driving on N71 through Southwest Cork only to find Wax Fang blaring through the speakers. Carney has an imposing voice that is oddly reminiscent of a masculine Marianne Faithful. The music is a saturation of Irish invasion 70’s guitar driven rock, produced with the energy of the Pogues’ pummeling punk. The only reason I even dare to compare these magnificent musicians to anyone at all is because I have yet to read a satisfying description of the band that does not resort to non sequitur comparisons or to the false, though flattering suggestion that what they offer has never been offered before.
La La Land has the grandiosity of a carnival’s main event. Carney’s voice belts like a ring leader’s supplication to a timid crowd waiting to be brought to life by the theatrics of the Big Top. Wax Fang certainly do not lack originality, but their open display of influence is important when gaging who would or would not enjoy their music. One cannot claim Wax Fang to be a carbon copy of anything. They cleverly assemble their music on a foundation of hyper melodic power riffs and drum-line snare pops. The tired and tiring genre of indie-pop lacks Wax Fang’s controlled brashness. While keeping almost entirely away from the schizophrenia of bands like Animal Collective or The Annuals, Wax Fang exudes a vociferousness that is on par with any of indie rock’s more raucous acts. The defining aspect between Wax Fang and others would be that their brashness is contained; it is structured and constrained by their melody’s affinity for stability. The band never strives to make noise or involve themselves in cacophonous tangents that some might consider excessive, while other more discerning listeners might understand to be an unwillingness to take risks.
La La Land is a record worth the buzz that it has received. This Kentucky trio is destined to become one of the great pub rock bands of our time. If they live up to their destiny, we will soon be hearing Carney’s bravado as we down pints of Guinness. It strikes me as odd that the band does not consider their sound to be rooted abroad. I am excited to see the theatrics. When they visit NYC again I’ll certainly be there to watch the circus live. Wax Fang’s explosive energy is highly addictive. They are fist-in-the-air, scream-out-loud melody mongers whose force is focused and unapologetically deliberate. As a side note, drummer Kevin Ratterman comes to Wax Fang from his previous band Elliot, whose short lived career was extraordinarily influential to the indie scene. We are glad to know that life after Elliot can be so good.
-FF
http://www.myspace.com/waxfang
Other Music
Black & Endless Night- 2005
Tour
09/18 The 5 Spot, Nashville Tennessee
09/19 Secret Squirrel, Athens Georgia
09/20 The Earl, Atlanta Georgia
09/23 JJ’s Bohemia, Chattanooga Tennessee
09/24 The Bottletree, Birmingham Alabama
09/25 Sticky Fingerz, Little Rock Arkansas
09/26 Emo’s, Austin Texas
09/27 The Cavern Club, Dallas Texas
09/28 Hi Tone, Memphis Tennessee
09/29 Jake’s, Bloomington Indiana
10/24 Beat Kitchen, Chicago Illinois
10/26 Birdy’s Indianapolis Indiana
10/27 The Basement, Columbus Ohio
10/31 Headliner’s Music Hall, Louisville Kentucky
HolySons
Decline of the West (Expanded Edition)
September 23rd 2008
Partisan Records
Let’s call it Emil Amos’ “occult personality.” It’s a personality that has little regard for the mainstream reasoning of independent music. While indie-anything might not be funded by multinational conglomerates or directed toward the average teenage yokel, like all trends, a normative pattern has developed that is definitively associative with the indie genre. It is always only a matter of time before the more subversive and respirating aspects of countercultural movements become consolidated and imitated, in order to produce an easily replicable fashion.
This annexation is not necessarily a phenomenon analogous to comodification, but the resulting product and transformative process occurs along similar lines. This is also not a difficult or novel observation to be made. New and innovative forms of expression always morph into what is more easily consumable, or in their most influential moments, such expressions affect public sensibilities, reformatting the public’s expectations and restructuring the capillarian flow into the mainstream. Notice Virgin Mega Store’s small side shelf labeled “Indie Invasion.” Cutting to the chase, Emil Amos’ upcoming release under the moniker HolySons has been genetically engineered to resist this phenomenon. The newly expanded Decline of the West simply does not seem interested in lying on anyone’s proverbial plate.
That is not to say that Amos is an avant-garde original with austere concepts of individualism. Indeed, the drum machine aided acoustic guitar with layered vocals shtick has already been introduced to us by The Beta Band. Somber and sinister voiced lyrics long ago came back to life with Beck’s Sea Change, and Amos’s musings of Satanic Androids would have felt at home on 1994’s Mellow Gold. The smooth lilts from tracks off Decline of the West like Gnostic Device even have undeniable moments that pay heavy homage to Nate Dogg.
HolySons however, cannot be reduced. The loose nature of Amos’ recording process along with the choice of instrumentation and layering, as with the addition of the squeeze box on Bleakest Picture or the banjo on Things You Do While Waiting for the Apocalypse create an atmospheric quality that is perhaps perfectly fragile. To detract from any one element of HolySons would be to collapse its worth entirely. The record is grim and unclean, enigmatic but engaging. HolySons is a sometimes difficult to swallow pill that mollifies the aches and pains induced by the doldrums of scenester rock and roll.
-FF
http://www.holysons.com/
http://www.myspace.com/holysons
Other Records
Decline of the West- 2005
I want to Live a Peaceful Life- 2002
Enter the Uninhabitable- 2001
Staying True to the Acetone Roots- 2001
Lost Decade- Recorded 1994-1999
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