Frederick Foxtrott

Peasant
Think! Café
January 30th 2008

Fortunate for me, while reading my daily Streamy subscriptions, I came across an article on Peasant, a musician I saw at the Indaba Loft in Manhattan during CMJ. There, he was promoting his soon to be released debut on Paper Garden Records, an excellent album I hope to review in the coming month. Brooklyn Vegan wrote some positive things about the artist and listed his upcoming show dates. I was thrilled to learn I would be able to catch him at the Washington Square Park area café Think!. Peasant was on a five date coffee house tour that began on January 29th and ended February 3rd. The concept could not have been more appropriate for the incredibly intimate nature of Peasant’s music.

I am glad to have been one of the first in New York City to have written about Peasant’s alluring style. Seeing him at Think! was the perfect opportunity to catch up on an artist who in the autumn of 2007 had already taken great steps toward becoming one of the truly solid singer/songwriters to emerge in 2008. His set up was simple and the temperature was certainly more bearable than his show at CMJ. Wine, cheese, and all sorts of espresso beverages were bought and consumed at this sophisticated café. The venue was fitting because Peasant’s gifts are introverted, inviting the audience’s attention rather than demanding it.

Peasant has a flawless voice. He has no trouble projecting authenticity and tenderness in front of a live audience or making such skilled songwriting seem like a casual expression. Also,  having a unique fashion makes for great coffee house conversation. He sports Tom’s Shoes, which are made in traditional Argentine style and are sold with the purpose of combating poverty. Peasant’s tenor voice combined with the melodic staccato of his acoustic guitar might come off as too reserved for some, but the depth written into songs such as Exposure is astounding. This combination of talent, style, authenticity, and social anxiety reflect an undeniably prolific musician. His melodies are saddening and contemplative; thoughts resounding within the confines of café walls; melancholy settling on the minds of thinkers, poets, and poseurs alike. You should listen to him not because he is known, or because is going to be known. You should listen to him because he is rich in character and one of the strongest young songwriters to make rounds in our subways, our streets, our coffee houses, and our clubs.

7/9

www.thatworksrecords.com
www.myspace.com/peasant

Upcoming Shows
Feb 10th @ Rockwood Music New York, New York
Feb 13th @ Club Midway, Stranded In Stereo party New York, New York
Feb 16th @ Winter Music Fest @ The Fire Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Feb 17th @ Siren Records Doylestown, Pennsylvania
Feb 29th @ John n’ Peter’s New Hope, Pennsylvania
Mar 13th @ Planetary Group Dayparty SXSW Austin, Texas
May 28th @ Intersoup Berlin, Berlin

I have recently returned from the Midwest, where I spent Christmas with my family and my wife. It was great to see old friends and how my home town has changed in the years that I have been away. My favorite bar has been by some accounts blacklisted by those who disapprove of new ownership, the intrusion of a malformed elevator shaft into the stage space, and a shift in demographics. Hip kids perceive the fraternity types to be taking over and thus have moved elsewhere. This xenophobia has been transliterated onto the music scene itself. I visited a new venue in Nebraska called Box Awesome. Immediately upon entering, I knew that this joint had collected the cool juice that had spilled over from downtown’s once great music venues. Everything from the art on the wall to the position and quality of the stage and the people circulating the room left the impression that Box Awesome was attached to a scene. It was a happening place that I could easily imagine running into on the Lower East Side or in Williamsburg.

To some the energy that is derived from such a venue is coveted. The covetous nature of what I saw that night is a microcosm of what seems to be happening in independent music. When I entered Box Awesome a band called UUVVWWZ was slated to play. I had recognized Jim, the main guitar player and writer from Mr. 1986, and was expecting a great show. As the band completed their sound check, the lead singer Teal began to hum and moan into the mic. What ensued captivated the audience and had the house moving. The music was nicely awkward with solid riffs punctuated by the jammy interplay between the bass and guitar. But I could not help but scoff at the shrieks of Teal Gardner. UUVVWWZ sounded as if Veruca Salt bitched and screamed until her father bought her a band. They incorporated some of the more vocal forward elements of Sleater Kinney and the more mundane aspects of Deer Hoof. She mostly failed to utilized her words or proffer her utterances as anything other than the whiny shenanigans of a preschooler. When Ms. Gardner sang with a more tender tone it was evident that the band had promise. Even when she screamed there was a raw vociferousness that was pleasurable. But the fact remains that most of the time, she just sounded like a girl whose shtick was to sing by singing badly. UUVVWWZ then came off as noise. This describes a major trend in independent music that has culminated in 2007.

The quest to become the oddest of the odd is not one taken by fools alone. There have been many great and glorious records to come out of such attempts. Others however fail with attention too often placed on what is possible, or what can be done, rather than any consideration of what effect or aesthetic the music might have when it is listened to. Importantly, a premium has been placed on what is disconnected. Caché is derived from the anti-structured expletives that valiantly discourage mainstream attention. The Fiery Furnaces had their try and stumble with Widow City in 2007, while Battles succeeded with Mirrored to produce interesting rhythmic weirdness. Perhaps Battles did well because of the lack of worded vocals. Either way, the critics of 2007 loved any attempt to reformulate the way we listen to music, giving praise to records that if critiqued at another time would be recognized as trite and be doomed to be forgotten. Noise can only be new a few times.

Animal Collective rose to the occasion and released a record with intense creativity when times were fertile for their brand of music. They were not lazy just because it would have been easy to crank out a crap record and still have gotten recognition because of their “pioneer” status. They took it upon themselves to step it up when more people would be looking, although Animal Collective member Panda Bear released what some have erroneously called the best record of 2007. This record was possibly the least important release of the year, but alas, he cloned The Beach Boys in a way that Band of Horses did not. Kudos for that, but I’ll probably never intentionally listen to Panda Bear’s Person Pinch again. This year has been a year in which the discombobulated has thrived and the straightforward has succumbed to the rise of distracted glitchy antitheses.

In 2007 Wilco played us simple songs uncovered and bare of what otherwise might have been expected from a band that pushes their songs to the textural limit of pop. Bright Eyes recorded Cassadaga, leaving Lincoln Nebraska’s former recording landmark Presto Studios for the wider scope of pan-America. Similarly Bright Eyes’ music ranged from intimate to epic, teeming with themes of isolation, alienation, and the large scope of the American experience. Beirut has given 2007 an expanded and improved collection of tracks that out perform much of their previous catalog, proving to us that Zach Condon will be around for a very long time.

This year has acquainted me with bands such as Pela who have written and recorded one of the most undervalued American rock albums of this decade. Other bands like The National and The Twilight Sad have altered indie rock’s accumulated stigma as poorly recorded cock rock. Groups molded into the archetypal formulas of Jet and The Strokes are getting less and less attention. On the unsigned front, Yes, I Attempt from Montréal have recorded a few tracks that should be getting noticed any time now. Once they book shows, I know it will only be a matter of time. Immovable Objects and The Depreciation Guild have put together two very beautiful and encouraging records. They are delicate, tender, and dense. I am very curious to read what other critics make of these acts as they achieve greater prominence.

This year I have sat in disbelief at critical reactions to many albums. I have a place reserved in my heart for Rilo Kiley, but another release like Under the Blacklight will most certainly jeopardize the charge of my opinion. I almost mistook Spoon’s Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga for an Oasis record…and that is a bad thing. Stars have been noted for their retro nuanced pop, but they come off sounding like pretentious hacks, who are too self infatuated that they have over looked the fact that they are perhapes the most derivitive band I have heard in a while (Sorry Amy Millan, I’ll always love you). Another much loved artist to make new songs from dated styles is Jens Lekman, who is touted as the ultra euro-romantic. While he is by no means awful, Lekman’s mannerisms never quite have the pop appeal of Belle and Sebastian or the sassy nature of Morrissey, yet he tries to fuse the two into a seamless product. When I listen to him, I am reminded of what he is not, rather than what he has to offer. I know…too bad for me.

The internet has seen a few antics this year. The identity of The Tuss has fueled more controversy with people who usually wouldn’t care. Radiohead released an amazing record and distributed it themselves via the internet for a price to be named by the buyer. They caused a false scandal when it was discovered that In Rainbows would be initially downloadable at only160kbs. Idiots finally found Radiohead’s flaw… they are money grubbing leaches… hmmm. Au Revoir Simone has risen from a relatively little known band to an internet sensation. Based on the amount of internet buzz I expect these ladies to do well in the coming year. While I did not give them the most stellar review, after listening to Under the Blacklight, I am convinced that The Bird of Music has done more musically in 2007 than Rilo Kiley ever dreamed of or cared to try. In fact Rilo Kiley loaned everything cool about themselves to the Brooklyn trio.

After much consideration I have decided to include a Frederick Foxtrott Top 10. It is flawed and conflicted but it covers a good portion of what 2007 had to offer.

Top 10 of 2007
1 Iron & Wine- The Shepherd’s Dog
2 Radiohead- In Rainbows
3 Múm- Go Go Spread the Poison Ivy
4 Pela- Anytown Graffiti
5 Bright Eyes- Cassadaga
6 The National- Boxer
7 Band of Horses- Cease to Begin
8 Wilco- Sky, Blue Sky
9 Modest Mouse- We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank
10 The Tuss- Rushup Edge

*Elliot Smith’s New Moon and Sigur Rós’s Hvarf/Heim are respectfully excluded from consideration.

I am looking forward to 2008. It will be the year that Eagle Seagull tours across the nation with their new record, finding their name on many a critic’s top 10 list. Head of Femur will take this year to watch their hard work pay off with their new release Great Plains. Born Ruffians and Stardeath and White Dwarfs will release their debut LPs to audiences eagerly awaiting full lengths. Born Ruffians will be one of the best bands to hit the shelves in 2008 and if Stardeath’s shows are any indication of their abilities in the studio then I am afraid to hear how good they’ll sound next year. As Paper Garden increases its roster of notable artists, both past and present, they continue to impress me with their sensibilities and nose for great music. Peasant will no doubt have huge success in the coming year. Thanks for reading Frederick Foxtrott and we hope to make next year’s reviews more abundant and informative. While from my perspective 2007 was not a great year for independent music, I predict that 2008 will be an exceptional year, serving to define a most crucial time for the independent industry.

Bands Mentioned
Click to access more information

Animal Collective
Au Revoir Simone
Band of Horses
Battles
Beirut
Born Ruffians
Bright Eyes
The Depreciation Guild
Eagle Seagull
Elliot Smith
The Fiery Furnaces
Head of Femur
Immovable Objects
Jens Lekman
Modest Mouse
Múm
The National
Panda Bear
Peasant
Pela
Radiohead
Rilo Kiley
Sigur Rós
Spoon
Stardeath and White Dwarfs
Stars
The Tuss
The Twilight Sad
UUVVWWZ
Wilco
Yes, I Attempt

Day #1
Day #2

Frederick Foxtrott’s CMJ Music Marathon Review

This year I had three days in my schedule to attend College Music Journal’s annual marathon of music that takes place all across New York City. Over a thousand bands played over 200 venues over the past week. This does not even count the hundreds of unofficial CMJ events featuring a myriad of other shows. As a former server in New York’s late night Meatpacking District, I have come to value my nights and weekends. Now that I have a right and proper day job, I could see three nights of shows in a row. This is unheard of people.

It would have been great to have had the CMJ pass so that I could wander from venue to venue seeing only the bands I personally chose. However, I did not and was left to spectacles that only chance would provide. Sometimes, when I go to shows, I catch the rare opening act that blows my mind, or at least provokes me to think about buying their next EP. Other times I shake my head and wonder what possessed me to show up early yet again. This year at CMJ there was plenty of both scenarios. Over-all it was a great experience. I not only saw some of my favorite bands, but I also got the opportunity to introduce them to others as well. I wasn’t the least bit afraid that I had over hyped them, and they did not disappoint. The following reviews are from my notes, diligently taken over three nights and over many, many beers.

Friday October 19th 2007
Indaba Music Loft

Peasant

I walked into this PA fellow’s set just as it began. I was happy both to be able to see Eagle Seagull in an extra small venue and to drink free beer, but hearing Peasant, aka Damien Derose, turned out to be another pleasant reason to visit the Indaba loft for CMJ. When we entered the unassuming space, the listeners were quiet and contemplative, listening to his melodic ballads. I learned that he is signed to Paper Garden Records and that he is releasing an album called On the Ground in 2008, which I am eager to hear as soon as possible.

I received a sample of Peasant’s work from his label and I was very impressed with the recording. His live performance was wrought with delicate and beautiful sunbursts and his demeanor was without pretension or guile. He was simple and deliberate, open but not protracted. I hope to see him again for a longer and more generous display.

7/9

Eagle Seagull

By the time Eagle Seagull took to the small makeshift stage, I noticed the temperature in the loft. The heat was beginning to make me uncomfortable. I was unsure as to how Eagle Seagull was going to proceed. It would be hard to dance in a sauna. I pumped some brew from the keg for my fiancée and myself, but it did not seem to cool my sweat factories. The crowd gathered as the band opened their set, bobbing their heads up and down, clearly interested in the music condensing on their skin with waves of heat and perspiration. One gentleman, seated on a couch in front, stood up and said to another seated next to him, “Man these guys are good.” The second man replied from somewhere in the bottom of his belly, “Uh huh!”

Kids leaning against the walls panted like cocker spaniels in the summer heat. The band played what I image to have been an excruciating set. For their part, they did not let the heat impair the music too severely, although I was afraid Austin was going to collapse at one point. Movement was an unappealing concept. Dancing was a meditation on heat stroke survival. But I danced and I sweated. I soaked myself head to toe at this sticky, steamy show. Perhaps if everyone in the joint danced like maniacs it would have been a better experience. Collective masochism could be cool.

6/9

Friday October 19th 2007
Arlene’s Grocery (Chicago Showcase)

Tom Schraeder & His Ego

I was especially excited to see the Chicago Showcase this year at CMJ. After all, in the recent past I have lived on both sides of our beloved Windy City. As usual, I arrived to Arlene’s a little early so I grabbed some prosciutto and mussels at a nearby bistro. After dinner I walked into Arlene’s not knowing what to expect. I had never been to the grocery store turned venue before. The bar is cut into two halves, a straight bar and a venue, both of which have a grim aesthetic of dingy neon. By the time my beer was in hand, Tom Schraeder was set to play.

I had heard some positive things about them in response to my promotion of the CMJ Chicago Showcase. One reader wrote, “Tom Schraeder & His Ego are a treat - like Ryan Adams and Gram Parsons, but with some Neil Young grit. I’d be there if I were in NY.” Truth be told, I do not really agree with this assessment. Ryan Adams is in no way represented in this band. If you have an alt-country act, or as I might label, alt honky-tonk, you can’t just compare them with names out of the air and hope they stick. I appreciate the sentiment though. This guy writes heart wrenching songs about love. But the grit involved isn’t a la Neil Young, it is a la Uncle Jesse Duke. But again I appreciate the sentiment- Tom’s Ego is not as clean as Gram Parsons.

Tom Shraeder’s live act was not the most dynamic show of the week. The band’s timing was very loose. At times the drums and melody seemed derailed and out of sync, and the songs were not very well defined from another. There were some Dylan-like moments, but it is an overall failed comparison. It should be said however, that there were aspects of the music that were excellent. One song grooved with strings, while the guitars became introverted and submissive, revealing a much more resplendent potential. The organ sounds projected them into entirely different territory. For five seconds their sound was related to Murder by Death, and it was awesome. Unfortunately the more subtle aspects of Tom and his Ego do not seem to be emphasized often. To my disappointment, the string section was certainly undervalued. Tom Shraeder & His Ego have demonstrated their talent. Now they need to trade in a bit of that steel for a tad more bow.

5/9

Unique Chique

This was a strange act to review. I think I liked them. Unique Chique concocted a mixture of jazzy elementals with high energy prog-rock. For the Chicagoans out there, they sounded like a more sing-song structured Tortoise. The vocalist had deep pockets of passion, standing among the more sincere performers at this year’s marathon. The problem is that I don’t think he liked his own band. It seemed obvious that this guy took this show very seriously, making the unpopulated room feel as if they weren’t good enough because of its lack of density. This aspect of their show split a hairline fracture through the band.

Unique Chique’s set was cut short, which is a shame because even if the music wasn’t the most amazing thing I had ever heard, they were fun to watch. Ernie the bassist looked to be a hyper-active Dungeons & Dragons playing, trench coat wearing, metal head. His skills were incredible and his awkward, stompish dance proved his commitment to the rhythm and roll of it all. The drummer reminded me of a skinny gold-town swindler whose nickname might be Ratsy or Barth. He had a slick skill with chiseled chops and a swanky style. The drum and bass section were quite the duo. Joe Starita’s lack of interaction with the rest of the musicians was simply odd. I might just have eaten a bad mussel, but the perceived tension definitely impaired the show.

6/9

Skybox

Unfortunately, at this point a few friends arrived and I began to fade in and out of a social coma. I did however catch most of Skybox. The last time I saw this band was at the Subterranean in Chicago. Back then they were dressed in brilliant white suits, projecting an eccentricity both musically and visually. At the showcase, they were comparatively dressed down. I almost didn’t recognize them in the earth-tone attire. But then I heard the music. Skybox has a very extroverted style. A friend turned to me and asked, “What would you call these guys.” I shrugged. In retrospect, vaudevillian berum-pum-pum tat-tat-tat comes to mind. This band is big, stout, and eager to slap your nose with a finger wiggling melodrama. They were off kilter and spastic, a little weird even. Dr. Suess might have had a hand in their warped sense of style. Thankfully Skybox flowed in full flavor.

7/9

Brighton MA

They took a while to set up and they played for what seemed like an eternity. It may have been the Jack Daniels talking but this band was no more than tedious hippie-rock. Return to social coma…

4/9

Head of Femur

Head of Femur came to New York with something to prove. How can a band known for having a multitude of multi-phonic, multilayered, tempo driven textures recombine itself into a rawer, more fundamental creature? Are we witnessing the replication of peacock DNA into that of a sparrow? I am not here to provide an account of Head of Femur’s origins, lore, and exploits, rather I have simply been charged to review their show at this year’s CMJ music marathon. Truth be told I have seen these guys far more as a 5 piece than as a 15 piece band. So hearing songs performed that might otherwise have been adorned with nine part orchestration is not entirely new.

An important item to remember while we contemplate our pleasure or displeasure is how the metamorphosis has imbued or slandered what we have come to know and cherish. Not only this but we must remember that Head of Femur has released a new EP and is set to release a new record in 2008. The very identity of Head of Femur is under review. I am not only speaking of the band mates themselves, but additionally to their ability to successfully negotiate such foundational change. Their appearance at Arlene’s Grocery displayed a band with a renewed sense of enthusiasm and confidence. Make no mistake, Head of Femur know what the fuck they are doing.

The show began with an introduction by a well spoken poet. I wonder if it is a Chicago tradition to be introduced by a poem. It reminded me of the many times I have seen Thax Douglas recite his words to puddles of second citizens. They were dressed to kill and had a decent crowd waiting as they ascended onto the stage. From the first note the energy was high and riddled with intention. A crowd of Neural Scientists dancing in the front row raved about how dreamy the band looked. Even my own fiancée was weak in the knees for this weird, weird band, especially as she said “the cute new keyboardist.”

The music was full, well written, and more alive than ever with hellacious hooks and melodies that did not come off as merely compensation for the inclusion of only four or five instruments. Rather older songs were reconceptualized within a new paradigm and new tunes defined the structure, the style, and the future of that paradigm. Head of Femur are no strangers to change. These kids have reshaped themselves many times, each instance renewing their commitment to all things beautiful and entertaining about obscurity.

Nick Westra’s charm and nonchalance while playing bass wooed the ladies as Colby Starck’s drumming emitted a sexual charisma unrivaled by even the most experienced of Kama Sutra practitioners. Matt Focht and Mike Elsener kept the front of the stage moving as they introduced new tunes to eager ears. Head of Femur is on the move people, and you all need to get with it and give these guys the attention they deserve.

8/9