Archive for the ‘Eagle Seagull’ Category
December 31, 2007
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 (now named Boys Dance, Girls Die) 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
Boys Dance, Girls Die (Formerly Yes, I Attempt) Read the rest of this entry ?
Posted in 2007, Alcohol, Animal Collective, Aphex Twin, Au Revoir Simone, Band of Horses, Bands, Battles, Beirut, Born Ruffians, Box Awesome, Brian Tregaskin, Bright Eyes, Brooklyn, Bushwick, Eagle Seagull, Elliot Smith, Frederick Foxtrott, Head Of Femur, Hipster, Hoax, Immovable Objects, In Rainbows, Indie, Iron & Wine, Jens Lekman, Lincoln, Manhattan, Matt Gagin, Múm, Music, Music Review, Nebraska, New York City, Panda Bear, Paper Garden Records, Peasant, Pela, Radiohead, Richard D James, Rilo Kiley, Sigur Rós, Spoon, Stardeath and White Dwarfs, Stars, The Depreciation Guild, The Fiery Fernaces, The Most Gigantic Lying Hoax of All Time, The National, The Tuss, The Twilight Sad, This Just In..., Top 10, UUVVWWZ, Wilco, Williamsburg, Year In Review, Yes I Attempt | Tagged Animal Collective, Au Revoir Simone, Band of Horses, Battles, Beirut, Born Ruffians, Bright Eyes, Eagle Seagull, Elliot Smith, Head Of Femur, Immovable Objects, Iron & Wine, Múm, Music Review, Panda Bear, Peasant, Pela, Radiohead, Sigur Rós, Spoon, The Depreciation Guild, The Fiery Fernaces, The National, The Twilight Sad, Wilco, Williamsburg, Year In Review | 2 Comments »
November 2, 2007
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
Posted in 2007, Arlene's Grocery, Bands, Brighton MA, Chicago, CMJ, Crush The Clown, Duffy's Tavern, Eagle Seagull, Head Of Femur, Indaba, Indie, Lado, Lincoln, Marquis de Sade, Music, Nebraska, Nick Westra, Paper Garden Records, Peasant, Show Review, Skybox, The Renfields, Tom Schraeder & His Ego, Unique Chique | Tagged Arlene's Grocery, Bands, Brighton MA, Chicago, CMJ, Eagle Seagull, Head Of Femur, Indaba, Music, Paper Garden Records, Peasant, Show Review, Skybox, Tom Shraeder & His Ego, Unique Chique | 2 Comments »
October 25, 2007
Day #2
Day #3
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.
Wednesday October 17th 2007
The Mercury Lounge
Rock and Roll
This band is as generic as their name implies. They deliver the expected. Suited in tight, tight, tight, tight jeans, open chest (un)buttoned down shirts, pointy shoes, and Asian scarves stolen from some poor schmuck off Bedford and 6th Street, these guys go straight for the fuck factor. Their sound combined grit and fashion, which can be appealing when remembering the commodified New York “indie” rock sound of 2003. In this way they sound a bit dated. There was a time when I would limit my presence at any given bar to the number of times that one Jet song was played on the juke box. That number was three, and it occurred far more often and quickly than one would suppose.
For their part, this Parisian quartet is good at what they do. Every song that passes another piece of clothing came off, perhaps under the impression that a little skin can only improve a rock show. The band occupies the nexus where mod-style meets sex-rock, not a bad place to be when you are hard up for a blow job. They are danceable and rhythmic, arrogant and out for a good time. In retrospect this was a good band to have as an early opener. I asked two of the band members who they would like to see on the evening’s line-up. One mentioned Robbers on High Street, although I don’t believe he got the chance, and the other didn’t seem to know anyone else was scheduled to play. How Rock and Roll is that? What Rock & Roll needs to understand is that beyond the manufactured New York socialite costume and the ease with which it is taken off, a rock band still has to rock.
5/9 (4/9 if you absolutely can’t stand tight pants)
The Rosewood Thieves
I’ve never quite understood how original music can harken back to anything, as is often touted for The Rosewood Thieves, much less music from the 60’s, perhaps the decade most responsible for modern music. But I’ll look past this contradiction because this bluesy, folksy, tres cool turtleneck rock band is pretty damn good.
The stage featured two performance artists, one reading on stage and the other committing his deepest thoughts to paper, or at least that is what his expressions would have you believe. The actors were a bit dramatic. I imagined their inner monologue, “Okay Peter, just remain contemplative.” The natural motor response to this motivational thinking was a shrug of the brow and tap of the pencil to the lower lip, until the actor burst into a furious fit of a creative writing exercise. This was novel for a moment, but I found myself so desperate to ignore the act that I pondered whether the lead singer’s hair was more Iron Butterfly or Carol Brady.
I got it though. The rattle and hum vibe of this band was meant to embody creativity receiving inspiration. This is from where the 60’s-early 70’s harkening is derived. The obvious influences of Bob Dylan and Lou Reed ooze from the stage as The Rosewood Thieves performed their act. I was reminded of Blond on Blonde as I listened to their set. They have what I have termed the “Dylan Phono-Aesthetic,” or DPA. I think it is a quality that Dylan popularized, but ultimately is inherently found within many artists from many generations. From this perspective I understand The Rosewood Thieves originality.
6/9
The Airborne Toxic Event
The next act casually came out wearing black outfits, unconcerned with whether they made people horny or not. Despite the captivating reverb layering their vocals, I felt that their first song fell flat and that the band was uncomfortable on stage, which is completely understandable. The stage can be an incurably frightening place. The music was not extraordinary, as they kept a safe distance form anything approaching experimental. Throughout the set, the songs would stop abruptly, seeming to sever the moody atmospherics with an unexpected and sometimes clumsy collapse of structure. After listening to four tunes, I needed more substance to keep my interest.
I must say however, that my experience with The Airborne Toxic Event would be likened to a glass half full, rather than one half empty. The signature element from this band is the vocals. You can tell he means what he sings. They have the pop-sense to authentically navigate the balance between a timid and frank melody and an intensity that accompanies aggressive sincerity. I see the severed endings as an attempt to contextualize these moments of pure intensity in the all-too-often reality of failed resolution. I can’t wait to see where these guys go. They are most certainly on my watch list.
5/9
Eagle Seagull
It is hard to watch this band in any venue and not think to your self, “Could they build any bigger wall of sound?” This is a most pleasing aspect to Eagle Seagull, especially when you are all the way up front getting pounded by the speakers like a dusty carpet on a porch column. I danced like a mad man as usual, but this time I made a conscious effort to tone it down as much as possible. It is slightly frustrating to see these guys play such great songs with such ease. Carrie was always displayed in a nonchalant pose, while Eli shuttled between his roles as an emotional wreck and chic piano man, occasionally smiling as if to internalize the band’s collective brilliance as he looked above and beyond the crowd. Complimenting Carrie’s soft stance, Austin played his guitar with such a heartfelt fervor, angulating toward the ground as his body shivered to Brit’s high-hat roll.
The band ran through their set, again keeping only Your Beauty Is A Knife… from their debut. The rest of the tunes were from their upcoming record The Year of the How-To Book due out early next year. Eagle Seagull’s new songs are nearly as familiar to me as the older ones, which speaks to the infectious nature of Eagle Seagull’s melodies. I hope I can get my hands on a copy of the new record as soon as possible. It was produced with Ryan Hadlock who worked with one of my favorite bands, Blonde Redhead, on the release of Misery is a Butterfly and Melody of Certain Damaged Lemons. The only real flaw of their evening at The Mercury Lounge was the length of their set. Not only did they start ten minutes early, but they finished after only 35 minutes. I know that CMJ schedules can be tight, but who couldn’t use a little more Eagle Seagull…I mean really people.
8/9
The Little Ones
Named after two little pug dogs, this ultra-annoying LA jam squad were the worst! When I think The Little Ones, I think Hootie and The Blowfish, or Big Head Todd and the Monsters. They just couldn’t bring their summer keg-party to my cold, cold heart. To be honest, and I hate to say it, they smiled too much! No one can be that happy. I was taken from the great show I paid for, was then boxed-up and shipped off to some Hawaiian luau…Yuck! Hillary, my fiancée looked to me with a flat expression and said, “These guys suck.” She may have been a little harsh. At best I can say that they just aren’t my style. That’s fair right? But I’d also say that they shouldn’t be anyone else’s style either. Everyone has their own taste, but I found myself pitying their overtly transparent happiness and manufactured good-times. Did I mention that the keyboardist looked like a Hanson brother?
3/9
Robbers on High Street
Apparently what ever crowd that had amassed during Eagle Seagull agreed with my stellar review of The Little Ones. The venue was definitely beginning to clear out as Robbers on High Street took the stage. It is a pity that there were not more people around. Not even a trace of Rock and Roll. I guess given the nature of CMJ, people had moved to see what ever show was to float their proverbial boat. These cats didn’t dance, they didn’t strut, and they didn’t even cock-walk. There was an element of sophistication in their lack of showmanship. Before I get myself into trouble, I mean to say that they put on a great show because they didn’t try too hard. They were simply a good band. Robbers on High Street have pop rock roots utilizing layered vocals and a dense rhythm section. In the most unimaginable way, they are what I might imagine the bastard child of Portishead and Voxtrot would sound like.
5/9
Eskimo Joe
Unfortunately I lapsed into a social coma and am not able to report anything useful concerning this band.
Posted in Bands, CMJ, Eagle Seagull, Frederick Foxtrott, Indie, Lado, Manhattan, Marquis de Sade, Music, Paper Garden Records, Robbers on High Street, Rock and Roll, Show Review, The Airborne Toxic Event, The Little Ones, The Mercury Lounge, The Rosewood Thieves, This Just In... | Tagged CMJ, Eagle Seagull, Frederick Foxtrott, Music, Paper Garden Records, Robbers on High Street, Rock and Roll, Show Review, The Airborne Toxic Event, The Little Ones, The Rosewood Thieves | 1 Comment »
October 4, 2007
KEXP Live/CMJ
October 16th 2007 @ 2:00pm
421 West 54th Street, New York, NY
The Mercury Lounge CMJ $12
October 17th 2007 @ 10:00pm
217 E. Houston St, New York, NY
CMJ Day Stage
October 18th 2007 @ 1:00pm
Unknown Location
Indaba Music Loft
October 19th 2007 @ 6:00pm
286 Bowery St., New York, NY
The Music Slut @ the Yard
October 20th 2007 3:00pm
400 Carrol St., Brooklyn, NY
Gothamist/WOXY October 20th 2007 6:45pm
145 E. Houston, New York, NY
Eagle Seagull
Posted in 2007, Bands, CMJ, Eagle Seagull, Gothamist, Indaba, Lado, Marquis de Sade, Music, Paper Garden Records, Show Alert, The Mercury Lounge, The Music Slut, WOXY | Leave a Comment »
October 2, 2007
Click for Review
Day #1
Day #2
Day #3
CMJ Music Marathon October 16th – 20th 2007
I have chosen these three venues and evenings to check out what CMJ has to offer. I’ll be seeing three of my favorite acts along with many others. Click on dates for reviews of the shows.
Wednesday October 17th 2007
$12.00, 21 and Over
Mercury Lounge NYC
217 E. Houston St, New York, NY
(corner Ave A & Houston)
(212) 260–4700
Rock And Roll 7:00
The Rosewood Thieves 8:00
The Airborne Toxic Event 9:00
Eagle Seagull 10:00
The Little Ones 11:00
Robbers on High Street 12:00
Eskimo Joe 1: 00
**************************************************************
Thursday October 18th 2007
$17.00 Doors Open at 6pm, 18 and Over
The Bowery Ballroom
6 Delancey St, New York, NY
(212) 533-2111
British Sea Power
Pela
1990s
Tiny Masters Of Today
Stardeath and White Dwarfs
The Grey Race
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Friday October 19th 2007
Unknown Price, 21 and Over
Arlene’s Grocery
95 Stanton Street, NYC
212.995.1652
RWIM Chicago Showcase
Tom Schraeder & His Ego 7:30
Unique Chique 8:15
Skybox 9:00
Brighton, MA 09:45
Head Of Femur 10:45
Catfish Haven 11:45
Hollywood Holt 12:45
Come to these shows people…
Posted in 1990's, 2007, Arlene's Grocery, Bands, Britsh Sea Power, Brooklyn, Catfish Haven, Chicago, CMJ, Crush The Clown, Eagle Seagull, Eskimo Joe, Frederick Foxtrott, Great Society Recordings, Head Of Femur, Hipster, Hollywood Holt, Indie, Lado, Lincoln, Marquis de Sade, Music, Nebraska, Nick Westra, Paper Garden Records, Pela, Robbers on High Street, Rock and Roll, RWIM, Show Alert, Skybox, Stardeath and White Dwarfs, The Airborne Toxic Event, The Bowery Ballroom, The Grey Race, The Little Ones, The Mercury Lounge, The Renfields, The Rosewood Thieves, This Just In..., Tiny Masters of Today, Tom Schraeder & His Ego, Unique Chique, World's Fair | Tagged 1990's, 2007, Arlene's Grocery, Bands, British Sea Power, Brooklyn, Catfish Haven, Chicago, CMJ, Crush The Clown, Eagle Seagull, Eskimo Joe, Frederick Foxtrott, Grseat Society Recordings, Head Of Femur, Hipster, Hollywood Holt, Indie, Lado, Lincoln, Marquis de Sade, Music, Nebraska, Nick Westra, Paper Garden Records, Pela, Robbers on High Street, Rock and Roll, RWIM, Show Alert, Skybox, Stardeath and White Dwarfs, The Airborne Toxic Event, The Grey Race, The Little Ones, The Mercury Lounge, The Renfields, The Rosewood Thieves, This Just In..., Tiny Masters of Today, Tom Schraeder & His Ego, Unique Chique, World's Fair | 3 Comments »
September 17, 2007
Eagle Seagull
September 12th 2007 at Union Hall Brooklyn
September 14th 2007 at The Mercury Lounge Manhattan
This past week has been somewhat of a drunken debacle. I drank entirely too much alcohol, spent an unfortunate amount of money, and injured my dancing legs. I blame these mishaps altogether on Eagle Seagull’s impossibly impressive showings in both Brooklyn and Manhattan. Having seen them perform well in Nebraska and then brilliantly in Chicago, I was naturally itching for another fix.
Anyone who knows me well knows I love to dance. This is sometimes sad because I dance crazily and have trouble containing my convulsions and gyrations, especially when whiskey is involved. I imagine that it might seem odd to the musicians in front of whom I dance to see me move around like I do. On occasion I even lose balance and fall over. I know this is a problem, but I simply cannot help it. Just so I am clear, I don’t dance at every show I attend. I mean, usually I am not even compelled to tap a foot or nod my head, but when I do I become completely mentally defective. This happened not once, but twice during Eagle Seagull.
On Wednesday, September 12th, Eagle Seagull hit Brooklyn at Union Hall off the R train in Park Slope. I arrived at 7:30, started my tab at the bar, and awaited the presence of my lovely fiancée while staring at the slightly annoying bocce ball players clacking their pastel spheres. I had decided that my fascination with Eagle Seagull stems from a few different things. First, it is always great to have old acquaintances meet success. I come from the same town, played shows to some of the same people, and drank beer at the same bar. I had become jealous that they committed to their music, while I abandoned it and moved to Chicago. They toured Europe and have shared the stage with countless amazing bands. Beyond the role of home-town-hero hacks, Eagle Seagull have the talent to back-up all claims of greatness.
Hillary arrived and we ordered a few more beers, a Black Label, and a duck confit thin crust pizza. Yes, they serve duck confit thin crust pizza at Union Hall. The venue has a slightly contrived feel to it. The books and wood put in place to achieve an aesthetic of intelligence and sophistication. My spirits, however, were beginning to rise as my anticipation grew. Hills and I spotted Eli sitting with a few of his friends by the door. We said hello, wished him luck, and headed down stairs to lower level stage. It was a small dimly lit room with a cash only bar. A band was finishing, from what I could tell, a lackluster set, when an old friend from home who also migrated eastward appeared in the crowd. I was happily snared in a surreal moment.
As Eagle Seagull began I took a swig of my beer. Hills was all smiles and I began to dance, buzzing my brain with the occasional pull from the scotch in my plastic cup. I looked behind to see that the crowd had grown and people were moving. I danced to every tune with a sort of fanaticism. They hit every beat and every note. Austin asserted his own fanaticism on guitar as Eli performed with grace and conviction, all the while looking very, very hip. The band played all new material, except my preferred oldie Your Beauty Is A Knife I Turn On My Throat, all of which were played true to perfect form.
After their set, in my drunken stupor, I tried to get the band to drink as much alcohol as possible. I figured budgets were being followed and ordered a few drinks for them. Fuzzy clouds descend on my head. They had to go to Massachusetts for the next day’s show in the morning. They left the bar. Hills and I decided to stumble home ourselves, but not before getting on the wrong train and losing ourselves in Manhattan to alcohol induced confusion. We finally popped out of the New York subway system somewhere around Union Square at 5am, so we decided to eat breakfast at Cozy’s Soups and Burger. I had some combination of eggs, sausage, and cottage cheese. I have no recollection of Hillary’s meal.
The following Friday, September 14th, I prepared to re-experience the splendor that is Eagle Seagull. This time I was bringing friends from my Bushwick artist oriented apartment building to The Mercury Lounge. Ben, Dan and I went to the bodega to get some 9.5% alcohol malt beverages. They cost only $1.25 and pack quite the punch. We traveled via the L train and then walked down 1st Ave sipping our brews in brown bags. We arrived at the venue just in time for the first act. After buying more drinks, we stepped into the stage area to give them a listen, reminded by the crowd size that Interpol was contemporaneously performing. The first band didn’t really do it for me so I went back to the bar. It was about that time that I decided that beer alone also wasn’t really doing it for me so I ordered a shot of whisky to shoot before I pissed. We had begun the night off right.
Eagle Seagull has become a staple at many-a-party in East Williamsburg Industrial Park. I was thrilled to introduce my friends to some of the band members, almost as thrilled as I was to be seeing them play twice in one week. The thing about Eagle Seagull is that they are very, very nice people. One conversation led to the next, which ended with Eagle Seagull leaving to perform. My friends and I, faces aglow, went to the front of the stage beer in tow. As the music began, I felt a wave of intoxication flow through my body. The dancing had begun- the fanaticism, the defection, the insanity. The lights were pretty, and the music stunning. The next day, my friend Dan explained to me his impression of their live performance. If one were to cut the center out of a song one might suppose it was chaos. But that from beginning to end the song is constructed, directed, and orchestrated, so that at no time does the chaos seem jarring or does it lack musicality. This is a very apt description of Eagle Seagull’s performance.
As the set progressed I danced harder and harder, surely making those strangers unaccustomed to my wild ways uncomfortable. I myself am uneasy when I think about what I must have looked like. But damn it, I had so much fun. Perhaps it has been too long since I exercised* my dance demons at 80’s Night at Brick Top in Lincoln. Or maybe I simply had too much alcohol. As the show concluded we went back to the bar where I am sure many conversations took place, some of which I may or may not have been involved in. I might have smoked a cigarette. I am sure I tried to buy the band more booze (hey these kids have got to save their dollars for gas, Redbull, and road munchies). At one point near the end of the evening, my own friends long gone for falafel, I tried to convince the entire band that they shouldn’t go get rest. I tried to coax them into eating at Pastis. At 2:00am. Them being the nice folks that they are, they simply declined and bid me farewell.
I walked back to the L and went home, worried that I had been officious and sycophantic. The next day my right calf, more so than my entire body, was destroyed. I had danced with such vigor that I pulled a calf muscle. I wasn’t quite hungover in the classic sense. I had zombie-like vitals, and I did feel sluggish and head-broken, but I realized that my feelings of officiousness and sycophantism were misplaced. I was simply proud of this band of kids from back home who were doing things that other kids will never get to do. They dreamt it, and they did it, and what’s more they fucking deserve it. They have a new album coming out next year and are Playing CMJ in New York on October 17th, which coincidentally precedes fellow Nebraska native Head of Femur’s show on the 19th. Let’s see if I can’t keep my dancing legs in line and my liquor lips shut next month. I know it’ll be tough. For all of you out there who have the opportunity to see this band, do so at your own risk.
9/9
*I exercise my demons, I don’t exorcise them.
http://www.eagleseagull.com
http://www.myspace.com/eagleseagull
http://www.papergardenrecords.com
Posted in 2007, Alcohol, Bands, Brooklyn, Chicago, Dance, Duffy's Tavern, Eagle Seagull, Head Of Femur, Indie, Lado, Lincoln, Manhattan, Marquis de Sade, Music, Nebraska, Paper Garden Records, Show Review, The Mercury Lounge, This Just In..., Union Hall | Leave a Comment »
September 7, 2007
Eagle Seagull
Eagle Seagull
October 3rd, 2006- Lado
2005- Paper Garden Records
Marquis de Sade would have liked Eagle Seagull. I say this quite afraid that readers will believe that I am implying that Eagle Seagull’s music is lecherous, debauchery laden, sexually perverse, and morally deviant. Well…what can I say? Until now most of the “buzz” concerning Eagle Seagull’s self titled debut mainly deals with…the “buzz” around Eagle Seagull’s self titled debut. Much that has been written speaks of the dark yet poetic mood of the record or the epic vocals of Eli Mardock. Interviews often feature questions asking the band how they feel about comparisons to Clap Your Hands and Arcade Fire. Indeed, Eagle Seagull might be more aptly compared to The Cure, Pulp, or the dim and ethereal Blonde Redhead, but what does this really say about the band? Eagle Seagull will have a long time to define who they are as subsequent albums say more about their longevity and integrity, but their first one was quite a start.
The lyrical mood of Eagle Seagull is not simply dark. It is sinister, morose, morbid, and irreverent. I’ve listened to this record over a hundred times and I still think to myself, “Did he just say that?” The poetics of Lock And Key describe hearts “filled with doom,” and phrases like, “Won’t you just crucify me. Just kiss me and deny me. Drink my blood and eat my body. Come on babe just deify me.” from Hello Never demonstrate the noir themes pervasive in every tune. Holy sings the mantra that we’d all love to believe, that we are holy, that we are all angels. But hidden in short breaths and beautiful bells, Eli says, “You make me want to be a saint…who kills people.” Some tracks aren’t so reclusive in their violence. Your Beauty Is A Knife I Turn On My Throat has simply one of the loveliest choruses of all time. “Your beauty it is a knife…” This record is stunning in its romance with regret. Eagle Seagull’s debut contains love songs written from the recesses of the mind, narrating the human heart at its worst, while detailing its obsessive desire to be new again. This album is a rare feat. It is beautiful.
Also pervasive throughout Eagle Seagull’s basement ballads are deep and visceral melodies. They are heavy, contemplative and gorgeous, pulling the lyrical message out of the gothic darkness. Not since Boys For Pele have such delicate and desperate words been so easy to identify with. It is possible to treat these tunes as if they were buzz worthy pop songs only because the lyrics are matted within such a pleasing context. The guitars imbue the songs with subsurface tension, while the percussions abandon the post-punk model, seeking to add to the musicality rather than operate as a metronome. The intimacy felt in the songs reveal thoughts that we don’t and won’t admit we think. I greatly admire this band.
Eagle Seagull has two shows in New York City. In Brooklyn they’ll be down at Union Hall on Wednesday September 12th. On Friday September 14th they’ll grace the stage of The Mercury Lounge. I’ll be at both shows. I encourage all to attend. The last time my fiancée Hillary and I saw Eagle Seagull was at The Memories Bar in Chicago. As I recall, they followed a series of hard-core acts that blurted trite pleas to “Fuck the Government.” It was a little bizarre to see them play after a toothless 75 year old punk, bobbing up and down with his middle finger flopping around. Aside from Memories, I have not seen them perform away from their home turf. I wish them the best of luck in NYC and I hope that they get all the attention they deserve. Their upcoming record The Year Of The How-To Book, due out early next year, promises to be as phenomenal as their debut. I am not sure that there will be as much tenderness or vulnerability expressed, but I am sure it will not disappoint.
Read Review of NYC Shows Here
8/9
http://www.eagleseagull.com
http://www.myspace.com/eagleseagull
http://www.papergardenrecords.com
Related Sounds
Pulp
The Cure
Blonde Redhead
Wilco
Show Alert:
Union Hall- Wednesday September 12th, 2007
The Mercury Lounge- Friday September 14th, 2007
Posted in 2005, 2006, 8 Points, Bands, Brooklyn, Duffy's Tavern, Eagle Seagull, Indie, Lado, Lincoln, Manhattan, Marquis de Sade, Music, Music Review, Nebraska, Paper Garden Records, Show Alert, The Mercury Lounge, Union Hall | 1 Comment »
