On Sunday, October 27th I went to see a show that I have been anticipating for a very very long time. Sunny Day Real Estate is reunited and touring prompting well a founded rumor that they will record new material. I can confirm that they played a new song during the set that Jeremy Enigk said they wrote together for the tour. Now this is the full band folks. What It Feels Like to Be Something On and Rising Tide were recorded without Nate Mendel. They have not really functioned like this together in 14 years. The band was soulful and beautiful; energetic and monolithic in stature.
These guys are true heroes to some, including me, and they did not let their admirers down. I truly wish my good friend and musical partner Mike could have been there. This band was so influential on the music we made together. I wish that my little brother, Josh, who missed out on 2003’s Fire Theft show because the bouncer kicked him out for puking. Seeing Sunny Day with him would have made my conscience feel a little better for loading him up on dirty martinis and then ditching him…on his 21st birthday. I saw this band not simply as a reunion of great musicians, but as a collapsing of time. On Sunday, I stood in Terminal 5 with my wife, but also with my friends from home, my brother, and everyone else in my life who has ever been inspired by this excruciatingly unique and gracious band. It was perfection.
Now I am going to steal an idea from another online site called Prefixmag.com. I have no problem stealing from the blog because of their awful fucking writing as evidenced by this quote:
“The band performed “Seven” from its classic eponymous debut, Diary, which is now 15 years old.”
So this is a double knock on the online magazine. I steal from them, and then I say don’t use the word eponymous when you don’t know what it means. If the band’s name was Diary or the song was named Diary, then the debut would be eponymous. Prefix, stick to 15 cent words or less. If you want to hire someone to review music you have my email.
Sunny Day Real Estate, Seven on Jimmy Fallon 2009
Sunny Day Real Estate, Seven on The Jon Stewart Show 1994
Go to Brooklyn Vegan for an amazing collection of photos and live footage like this:
1. Friday
2. Seven
3. Shadows
4. Song About An Angel
5. Grendel
6. Guitars & Video Games
7. Iscarabaid
8. Theo B
9. New Song
10. 47
11. J’Nuh
12. Sometimes
Encore:
13. In Circles
14. Spade And Parade
15. 48
Music As Sunny Day Real Estate
Diary- 1994
LP2- 1995
How It Feels to Be Something On- 1998
Rising Tide- 2000
As The Fire Theft
The Fire Theft- 2003
As Jeremy Enigk
Return of the Frog Queen- 1996
The End Sessions- 1996
World Waits- 2006
The Missing Link- 2007
OK Bear- 2009
Tour
09/30/09 7:00 Washington, DC 930 Club
10/01/09 7:00 Philadelphia, PA Trocadero
10/03/09 9:00 Atlanta, GA Center Stage Theater
10/05/09 7:00 Dallas, TX Granada Theater
10/06/09 7:00 Houston, TX Warehouse Live
10/07/09 8:00 Austin, TX La Zona Rosa
10/09/09 7:00 Tempe, AZ Marquee Theatre
10/10/09 7:00 Anaheim, CA House of Blues
10/11/09 8:00 Hollywood, CA Music Box
10/13/09 8:00 San Francisco, CA The Fillmore
10/15/09 8:30 Spokane, WA The Knitting Factory
10/16/09 8:00 Seattle, WA The Paramount Theater
02/20/10 Brisbane, Australia
02/21/10 Sydney, Australia
02/26/10 Melbourne, Australia
02/27/10 Adelaide, Australia
03/01/10 Perth, Australia
The arts pace known as Secret Project Robot, by the water off Metropolitan in Williamsburg, welcomed their guests with a baby pool full of taurine laced energy drinks. While this was on its face a seemingly dubious display of corporate sponsorship, their presence was entirely appropriate. Energy was requisite. The music space exuded a “do it yourself” aesthetic in everything from the door-lady drawing hearts on the hands of patron who shelled out the $8, to the cheap vodka and whiskey or the large bucket of iced two liter mixers behind a small slab of a bar manned by a particularly festive cross-dresser and another barkeep, who I am sure would have been worth describing had his look not been so overshadowed by the slutty red lipstick and stuffed brazier. So too it went with the bands who performed; all had promise, all had songs worth listening to, all were experimental and dynamic, but all were outshone by the final clamorous fashion of These Are Powers.
In yet another sticky scenario, Secret Project Robot’s stagnant heat was oppressive, but they had sprinklers spouting off in plastic tubs so at least we knew they were thinking about us. Bill Salas stood behind his drum kit with a console of electronic rhythm pads, infusing the natural resonance of an open snare with manufactured blips and bops. Pat Noecker, ex-bassist for The Liars, wielded his instrument with genius pomp. His bass had been modified to produce an array of shrieks and moans; his contribution at times imitated the demolition of a 40 story building, other times it shot through the room like an auditory emanation of a laser cannon. And then there was Anna Barie. Part bean-shìdh, part international world-music pop star, Anna chanted smooth and cool, bobbling a rhythmic voice through wicker work of the drums and bass. She would volley steamy sighs down on an already moist mass of dancing limbs and then pull back with a low pitched croon.
The energy of These Are Powers is simply incredible. They have released a couple of records; their latest All Aboard Future, was released on Dead Oceans in February of 2008. The alchemy of these three musicians produces a refined and potent power from seemingly disconnected parts. As a group, These Are Powers function together with a rare sense of theater, fashion, and ragged opulence. For any avid show-seeker, These Are Powers are a must. Apparently the Chinese love them too…
Music
Terrific Seasons- 2007
Taro Tarot- 2008
Cockles (Split) with The Creeping Nobodies-2008
All Aboard Future- 2008
Tour
August 22nd 8PM Littlefield NYC Brooklyn, New York
August 27th 6PM Brooklyn Bowl Brooklyn, New York#
October 17th 8PM The Independent San Francisco, CA*
October 18th 8PM Doug Fir Lounge Portland, Oregon*
October 19th 8PM Crocodile Cafe Seattle, Washington*
October 20th 8PM Biltmore Cabaret Vancouver, BC*
# with Cymbals Eat Guitars
*with A Place to Bury Strangers
Justin Lamoureux, after a few Midwest shows, will head East to perform solo. He will bring his quintessentially Midwestern music and story to Williamsburg, Brooklyn and will be playing at the staple upstart venue Pete’s Candy Store. Here listed, are other confirmed show dates. More to come…
Apr 1 2009 9:00 Omaha, NEThe Waiting Room
Apr 4 2009 9:00 Sioux City, IASioux City Eagles Club
Apr 7 2009 8:00 Vermillion, SDUniversity of South Dakota
Apr 17 2009 9:00 Omaha, NEThe Slowdown
Apr 25 2009 8:00 Omaha, NEBarley Street Tavern
May 16 2009 9:00 Louisvile, KYThe Nachbar
May 18 2009 8:00 Portsmouth, NHThe Red Door
May 19 2009 8:00 Philadelphia, PAThe Green Line Cafe
May 21 2009 8:00 NEW YORK CITY, NYPETES CANDY STORE
May 26 2009 8:00 Jamestown, NYLabyrinth Press Company
May 29 2009 8:00 Sheboygan, WIParadigm Coffee House
May 30 2009 8:00 Minneapolis, MN331 Club
Super 700
Lovebites
February 27th 2009
Motor Music
The darkly sensual style that is both consumed and created in Europe’s thriving electro-indie rock scene has sent another beautiful band stateside. Recorded at Planet Rock studios in Berlin under the supervision of Rob Kirwan of U2 and Depeche Mode fame, Lovebites is a supremely focused record by Germany’s Super 700. Ibadet Ramadani’s vocals nicely compliment the somber strings and opiate waves of the Marrakeshian melodies. Lovebites shuttles between a flurry of epic aesthetics and the slow, sexy romance of an Ian Fleming spy novel. One can imagine a kaleidoscopic image pouring a deep red velvet color over barely perceivable undressed bodies when listening to Super 700.
The band avoids the awkward distraction that sometimes occurs when German vocalists sing in English. They do this not by avoiding the language, but by perfecting it.Some might compareSuper 700 to Blonde Redhead, but this would be yet another lazy juxtaposition. While both bands have an affinity for thematically dark songwriting, Super 700 clearly aims toward the accessibility of Sade. As a complete work Lovebites flows from song to song, mimicking the motion of an oil filled hourglass; it is cohesive, each song belonging to the other. The record does not contain the most original or provocative material, but it excels as a mysterious and beautiful work, entirely worth our attention.
A note from the anticipation inducers about their upcoming record, Year of the How-To Book. We have been looking forward to this record for…well…for-fucking-ever… Below as posted on their Myspace and Facebook pages:
Our album WILL come out this year!!!
Hey all -
We haven’t been very good about updates and such over the past 8 months or so. So what have we been up to? Long story short, some utterly depressing things have happened to us and, obviously, our long overdue album “The Year of the How-To Book” has yet to be released.
That said, the album is coming out this year! Perhaps we should change the album’s title to “The Years of the How-To Book”…
Anyway, more updates to follow soon. Our heartfelt thanks to those of you still anticipating the release of this album. We hope you’ll agree with us (when the time comes) that it’s well worth the wait.
Peace & Love,
Eli andEagle Seagull
While we wait for the record to find its way to our various music machines, we wish Eli and company the best of luck and a long period of mania to follow their troubles.
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.
Fontana’s
Wednesday, January 28th
105 Eldridge Street, New York NY LES
First it should be noted that for those of you who have never been to Fontana’s in Manhattan, this place is great—go there soon. Granted the place was not exactly packed Wednesday evening, so I do not know the levels of douchebaggery that flow into the joint during peak volume, but I do know the aesthetics are excellent. They have a purple felt pool table…
The venue itself is in the basement. It is a typical Manhattan hole in the ground. The best thing about this set up is that its small size and earth insulated walls ensure ear damage. Fontana’s is blissfully loud. It is dimly lit, giving the room the tenor of an opium den. The bar is positioned in the back, the amber lights drawing attention to the various colored liquids resting on the liquor shelf. It was the perfect place to view The Depreciation Guild in all their shoegazey glory. As of late it has become objectionable to allow oneself to be called “shoegaze,” but there seems to be no argument from the band when people deploy this genre definition—the word appears on their Myspace page no less than 14 times. The thickly constructed wall of melodic noise pulsed from a dark stage. The stage background was lit by a projector emanating Technicolor geometric shapes over the face of the drummer, Anton. Christoph and Kurt were shrouded in pitch, orchestrating their knobs and pedals to direct a deafening wind that blew to the back of the venue. The vocals betray an intense infatuation with 80’s pop melody construction. Their brazil nut colored mod hair styles matched—they looked like a band from an era when constituent musicians would share some attribute, whether it be a hair cut, a t-shirt, or a jacket. Combined with the forceful ambience of guitars, a post-punk back beat, and an accentuation of low-bit synthetic sounds, The Depreciation Guild engaged in an orgy of reverberation and distorted harmonics. Their strong performance confirmed that this wouldn’t be a night of openers and closers, but a menagerie of varied but equally impressive musicians. Rarely is one subjected to such a luxury.
The bands began about a half hour late due to what I can only assume was a lack of audience, but as The Depreciation Guild finished the crowd began to thicken. By the time Cymbals Eat Guitars’ gear was set up, the room was coming alive with chatter and the clinks of whiskey glasses. From the first note, it was determined that Cymbals Eat Guitars was entirely different show than that of the band before. The energy was not subdued, it felt coursing and adrenal. Joe Ferocious’ voice was brain lacerating—a braided arsenal of calm and sensitive croons, lined between what too few people are able to achieve, dopamine inducing screams. And the Hazy Sea exemplifies how the band shifts during their live performance. It is the song that initially hooked me in. Live, the song was twice as loud, twice as energetic, and twice as good. Mr. Ferocious worked his guitar over—tapping and sliding and tweaking the strings into disjointed and caustic solos. It was delicious! The contrast between The Depreciation Guild and Cymbals Eat Guitars cannot be overstated. Ferocious and company’s infatuation with pop doesn’t spend much time contemplating dreamy things; their infatuation is a result of years of underage drinking and late nights listening to Pavement, Pinkerton era Weezer, and Issac Brock. It is an optimism wrought with defiance and the desire to remain unshackled by social expectation. Is this what these people really mean with their music? I don’t know—but it is exactly how their music makes you feel.
Black Diamond Bay headed by ex-Dear member Patrick Krief was yet another turn in this show’s display of style and genre. His voice is refined and his hands play a soulful guitar, fluttering the bluesy Hendrix/Stevie Ray signature across the lower steps of the E and A strings. Krief is a guitar man—he is a songwriter that frames an old and noble tradition into something new. When Black Diamond Bay took stage, the venue had largely become deserted, the once attentive audience forsaking the hole at Fontana’s for some other Manhattan happening. In the end, there only seemed to be the musicians on stage, the bands that came before, my friends, and friends of friends who remained. This was in some ways tragic and in other ways fortunate. Tragic, because the band deserved a full house—fortunate, because we had the house to ourselves and incredible musicians to keep us company. I was afraid that Krief and his mates would not perform as well as they might if the house was at capacity. The room might lack the reciprocal energy required to rock the faces off those who insisted on looking first, hearing first in the front row. I’ll say this, the collection of bands was great and every one of them performed exceptionally, but if there was a crescendo of the night—a highlight that humbled all other moments— and I think the other bands would agree, Krief’s final solo was it. The band didn’t muddle through the night for the first chance to get off the stage; they didn’t offer a half-hearted effort. Krief finished the evening with his white guitar positioned on the ground. While on hands and knees, he pounded with a forceful fist on the fret board like the final desperate moments of CPR, when the chest is pounded with abandon to awaken a dying heart, generating a freight train inside our heads.
All this in an empty venue, in a vacant bar.
Black Diamond Bay continues their tour in support of their latest effort, Calm Awaits, February 5th at The Mercury Lounge. Go…and see for yourself.
Just two days ago on January 27th Peasant’s debut record was again released. Paper Garden Records continues to support this extraordinary artist, accommodating an ever growing fan base spurred by Damien DeRose’s touring and the music’s appearance on the television shows Kyle XY and Bones. He has also recorded live sessions for the impressive Daytrotter on-line music magazine and WOXY. Anyone who questions Mr. DeRose’s ability to translate his recorded material into a real and authentic experience is obligated to listen Peasant’s Daytrotter session. Click here. Peasant is somber, intimate, and melodic—infusing an appreciation of plain spoken poetry and honest emotional truth into music that can best be described as simply beautiful. In many ways I feel vindicated for having such faith in this guy. From the first day I saw him play at a 2007 CMJ loft show, it was clear to me that as long as people had the opportunity to hear him, they would continue to do so.
My Bloody Valentine
September 23rd 2008
Roseland Ballroom
There is a reason why people listen to My Bloody Valentine religiously, and we all heard it yesterday. Last night’s show was the last of their reunion trilogy in New York, which in their grander USA tour continues westward to end in Los Angeles on October 2nd. No one thought these shows would ever happen again since the band’s break up in 1991, which makes yesterday’s experience (and future shows) all the more surreal. Phenomenal would be an understatement to describe last night, though I don’t know if one word could describe what I felt as I watched in awe. It was a show that tested the human body and mind in the face of life-altering decibel levels. Boxes of earplugs were scattered around the venue as if one pair alone would not suffice. Some brave souls tempted to endure the show without these little saviors. Wikipedia’s entry for the band picks up on this observation of the sound magnitude of MBV’s past reunion shows in the UK:
“One visitor comments he saw a 130 dB volume on the mixing desk, another visitor comments he saw 132 dB at one moment, both louder than the Loudest Band in the World record before the Guinness Book of World Records discontinued the category.”
That makes me feel awesome.
The music was truly hypnotizing (I saw so many faces of honest devotion with eyes shut) and possessed the audience into some involuntary bodily movements that were aesthetically fascinating. But the hypnotic quality shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone who listens to MBV. Neither should the fact that it was nearly impossible to discern any of the vocals. What impressed me the most was the sheer power from the drummer and bassist. The sound they produced together was the backbone of last night’s beastly performance. They even had a mirror installed next to the drum set for easy communication. All in all, I was more than satisfied with the show. I nearly cried when they played Cigarette In Your Bed.
Though there was also an opening band called The Lily’s, they were just that—a band you mention before you forget.
Some people brought up that the nostalgia effect as a factor that made this show more amazing than it really was. But for the younger generation like me, last night was not nostalgia, it was now. And hands down, it was my best show yet.
Tour
Sep 25 2008 Kool Haus, Toronto Ontario
Sep 27 2008 Aragon Ballroom, Chicago Illinois
Sep 30 2008 The Concourse Exhibition Center, San Francisco California
Oct 1 2008 Santa Monica Civic, Santa Monica California
Oct 2 2008 Santa Monica Civic, Santa Monica California
Iron & Wine
The Shepherd’s Dog
September 25th 2007
Sub Pop Records
I would love to have witnessed the birth of Iron & Wine. Could it have been the moment when Sam Beam, as a teenager learning guitar, first listened to Guinevere off Crosby Stills and Nash’s self-titled debut record? I like to imagine it that way, the education of Mr. Beam’s delicate voice, flowing and illiterating while rhythmic acoustic melodies were built into a chant-like invocation. I’ve been inspired by this record in ways that I am not sure I’ve been inspired in the better part of a decade. While it might be said that The Shepard’s Dog has much in common with Crosby Stills and Nash, make no mistake, Iron & Wine has succeeded in crafting a release of equal measure. It is not passé or derivative. It reminds us of Déjà Vu but manifests itself as a unique and provocative work. It has the mystical and folkish cohesiveness of Led Zeppelin III and the fundamental lyrical beauty of anything W. B. Yeats.
Iron & Wine has produced a record that is both ambitious and progressive. Beam has resisted the temptation to dish out more of the same, yet he has sought to maintain and further define his signature style. The Shepherd’s Dog does not retreat from the ground covered thus far, rather it presses further beyond expectation, illuminating prior work while escaping the bonds of monotony. It elevates Sam Beam, underscoring his place as one of the most sentient and talented singer/song writers of our generation. Iron & Wine avoids contrived floral fakery when constructing his poetics by keeping the lyrics rustic, earthen, and elemental. Without question, The Shepherd’s Dog is an alluring and rare beauty.
American-gothic themes lace throughout the record. Influenced by his South Carolina roots and Austin Texas home, Iron & Wine has created what in literary circles might be termed Southern Magical Realism. The Shepherd’s Dog is something slightly dark yet derived from the hearth and home. Like Van Morrison’s Moondance, there are moments of occultish mysticism and pagan imagery. Mr. Beam develops narratives incorporating kings, queens, witches, and magic and then embeds them within a modern and familiar context. Even with all of its fantastical parts, or perhaps because of them, The Shepherd’s Dog has all the strength and splendor needed to make a genuine classic. It is autumn embodied. It is hard cider and country bales stacked at the pumpkin patch. It is Iron & Wine’s greatest feat, and one of, if not the best album of the year.
Other Music
The Creek Drank the Cradle- 2002
Iron & Wine Tour EP- 2002
The Sea & The Rhythm EP- 2003
Our Endless Numbered Days- 2004
Woman King EP- 2005
In the Reins (Calexico)- 2005
