My first instinct would be to say screw AOL’s spinner.com. But they are distributing Darla Farmer’s live Mercury Lounge album for free, so suppose I can’t disrespect them too much. The show is a product of a collaboration between the band, Magic Hat Brewing Company, and vancar.tv. Below is some video of the show and a link to download the music.
“The burlesque attitude of Darla Farmer is delicious. The bright eccentricities sound as if they were lifted out of a carnival sideshow. Rather than overcompensating for the inherent problems that come with recording horn sections, the loose and live feel of the horns was captured and exploited very tastefully. Too often these types of recordings come off sounding like metronomed midi files, but the dirt is left on and the atmosphere is kept thick.”
Upcoming Tour Dates
9/11 – Nashville, TN @ Cannery Ballroom (Rabbit Release Party)
10/1 – Montreal, QB @ Syndrome (Paper Garden Records music & art party)
11/14 – New York, NY @ 3rd Ward (Paper Garden Records presents: Multiverse Playground)
Summer shows are a double edged sword aren’t they? The heat makes us acutely aware of the sticky auras enveloping ourselves and everyone around us. Forced to mingle, we herd ourselves into the small venue or cram ourselves as close as possible against the outdoor stage, sacrificing our personal space like the legions of L Train morning commuters riding in from northern Brooklyn. But the shows, they are amazing and they are aplenty. This summer looks to be very promising indeed.
Of course for me it has gotten off to a piss poor start. I intended to write a feature about a Norwegian band called Pirate Love. It would not only review their tiny EP, but talk about their live show as well. I was fortunate enough to be guest-listed for last Thursday’s performance at Pianos. A few companions and I had arrived early for a little pre-show drinking. I bullshitted with the bar-back, discovering that he is from Nebraska and that we know a few of the same folks—an altogether enjoyable experience.
Then it turns out that my name slipped through the cracks and was omitted from the guest-list. What to do? I had money for beer or the show, and seeing as one of the expenses was unforeseen, like any normal human being I chose the beer. A few other friends arrived at Pianos later that night. They relayed to me the following day that Pirate Love played a great show. From what I gather it would be a big mistake to miss these guys next time they are in town.
The following night a few friends and I were off to Prospect Park to catch Blonde Redhead. The weather, we can all remember, had been shitty the past couple of days, and it wasn’t looking good for our Friday plans. Again we arrived a bit early and stopped at a pub to drink some pints of Bass and tequila shots. After drinks we began walking toward the park as it began to sprinkle and spit. The line into the venue was very long, but clearly the fans were willing to suffer the rain—for a while. When it came time to open the gates, the park workers kept the doors closed. What was at first a slow drizzle turned into a down pour and no umbrella could really do the job. So, defeated, we walked back the F Train and headed on home. When we finally arrived in Bushwick the rain had passed and the sun broke through. Mother fucker, two shows in two days blown—and we actually made it to the venues. We did the best we could to make up for the lost time. We bought and ate some baguette, stinky cheese, and pastis while watching the sun go down on our converted factory roof.
What will come of the rest of summer is anyone’s guess but I certainly look forward to actually getting inside venues. As always, there is a standing invitation for suggestions on venues and bands. Let us know what should be seen and where. Next week, we go to Wilcoopened by Yo La Tengoat Coney Island’s ill-named Keyspan Park. I haven’t seen these guys in a while, although I was able to get a copy of their newest effort months ago. A review is certainly pending.
But listen people…the best news of the week is thatSunny Day Real Estate will be reuniting for a 20 date tour (see dates below), supporting the rerelease of their first two records Diary and LP2. My fucking God this is amazing! Jeremy Enigk is without a doubt a major hero of mine. I feel slightly ashamed that the last time I got the chance to talk with him was 2003 and I was quite drunk. My brother and I drank dirty gin martinis until he puked and was booted from the venue. It was his 21st birthday. I felt like such a dick. My brother’s inebriation didn’t stop from seeing what was then a Fire Theft show at a joint called Knickerbockers. I asked Enigk something to the effect of “Jesus or Buddha?” He snarked back at me and said “Both.”
Luckily he wasn’t too offended about my mocking allusion to his past exploits in Christianity. He went on to disclose that his favorite band is The Who. After the show I got to sit in the booth with Nate Mendel and William Goldsmith. I am not sure how I pulled it off, but it was one of the greatest moments I’ve had. We’ll see what we can do this time. Although they play at Terminal 5, a shitty venue with what seems like a million people, half of whom will be complete assholes because they hate the music. Their friends dragged them there. Enigk had an amazing showing at the Bowery Ballroom supporting his 2006 solo record World Waits. This is easily the most anticipated reunion of the decade. I wonder what else, if anything, could top it.
Here are the calendars for a few of the better NYC venues:
Sunny Day Real Estate Tour Schedule
September 17 Vancouver, BC/Commodore Ballroom
September 18 Portland/Crystal Ballroom (Musicfest NW)
September 20 Salt Lake City/Murray Theater
September 21 Denver/Ogden Theater
September 23 Minneapolis/First Avenue
September 24 Chicago/Metro
September 25 Detroit/St Andrews Hall
September 27 New York/Terminal 5
September 28 Boston/House of Blues
September 30 Washington DC/930 Club
October 1 Philadelphia/Trocadero
October 3 Atlanta/CW Center Stage
October 5 Dallas/Granada Theater
October 6 Houston/Warehouse Live
October 7 Austin/La Zona Rosa
October 9 Tempe/Marquee Theatre
October 10 Anaheim/House of Blues
October 11 Los Angeles/Henry Fonda Theater
October 13 San Francisco/Fillmore
October 15 Spokane/Knitting Factory
October 16 Seattle/Paramount Theatre
Midwest Dilemma (Unsigned) Peasant Paper Garden The Living Room 8:00PM
Wednesday, May 20th 2009 FREE
Darla Farmer Paper Garden Emanuel & the Fear Paper Garden Mercury Lounge 7:30PM 21+
Saturday, May 23rd 2009 $10
Midwest Dilemma- Omaha
Emanuel & the Fear- Alright! (We’re All)
New York City’s Paper Garden Records is treating us during the month of May by putting together a couple shows that showcase three of the labels more promising acts. On Monday, May 20th Peasant, one of our favorite song writers attached to Paper Garden will play along side Omaha, Nebraska’s Midwest Dilemma. This will be a doubly sweet night— not only am I eager to see Midwest Dilemma live, but Peasant is definitely always satisfying to watch. He cannot be overstated. It is my understanding that Justin Lamoureux of Midwest Dilemma will be playing solo, which will likely be a nice compliment to Peasant‘s set. Did I mention it is FREE? The show will take place at The Living Room on Ludlow.
The vaudevillian circus sideshow that is Darla Farmer team up with electro-pop orchestrators Emanuel & the Fear for an early gig at Mercury Lounge on May 23rd. The doors open at 7:30PM, with Darla Farmer offering their velveteen texture at 8PM, followed by Emanuel & the Fear at 9PM. For those of you who have not attended an early show at Mercury Lounge, it is a great way to begin a Saturday night. Your ass is out of their by 10:30PM, perfect if you have a party to get to in Bushwick, Greenpoint or Williamsburg. Both bands are attached to Paper Garden and are certainly worth a listen.
So yeah, Cursive comes to New York…more importantly to Brooklyn. The band is on the road all January and then returns to the Big Apple in March. I can think of no better way to celebrate the birth of Kasher Young than listening to The Martyr on N 6th off Bedford Ave. Their January dates in New York are sold out, but March is coming fast with the Music Hall of Williamsburg already on sale and the Bowery Ballroom beginning sales on Friday.
New York Dates
January 18th UNION HALL
January 19th MERCURY LOUNGE
March 9th MUSIC HALL of WILLIAMSBURG
March 10th BOWERY BALLROOM
The Rest of Cursive’s January Dates
January 14th 2009 Triple Rock Minneapolis, Minnesota
January 15th 2009 Northern Michigan University
January 16th 2009 PSchubas Chicago, Illinois
January 17th 2009 PGrog Shop Cleveland, Ohio
January 18th 2009 Union Hall Brooklyn, New York
January 19th 2009 Mercury Lounge New York, New York
January 20th 2009 Barbary Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
January 21st 2009 Summit Columbus, Ohio
January 22nd 2009 Mojo’s Columbia, Missouri
January 23rd 2009 Slowdown Omaha, Nebraska
January 24th 2009 Slowdown Omaha, Nebraska
This year we have chosen to highlight 3 line-ups and venues for 2008 College Music Journal’s Music Marathon. Of course, we are also featuring a few bands from each list, as we know everyone could use a little heads up on these fine, fine bands.
Cory Chisel & the Wandering Souls 7:00 PM Shugo Tokumaru 8:00 PM
Audrye Sessions 9:00 PM
Love As Laughter 10:00 PM
Wild Sweet Orange 11:00 PM
Margot and the Nuclear So-and-Sos 12:00 AM
Wednesday night Tokyo’s Shugo Tokumaru will be the highlight at the Bowery Ballroom which might come as good news to those of you who have late shows to attend. He would be the perfect evening starter.
Other Lives 7:00 PM
Mother Mother 8:00 PM
Wild Light 9:00 PM
Ambulance LTD 10:00 PM Delta Spirit 11:00 PM Eagle Seagull 12:00 AM
The Virgins 1:00 AM
Friday sees perhaps the most varied selection of bands. A good spot to catch a wide selection of new and innovative artists is the Mercury Lounge.
Delta Spirit will knock your teeth in with a brick to the head…very nicely. Eagle Seagull will instill in your heart a moral ambiguity that will make your mother cry.
…dance rock’s finest ladies and gentlemen…
***This year we are going to post submissions from readers who attend this year’s CMJ Music Marathon. Write a narrative, long or short, and let us know what bands deserve attention.***
If you love tender music of melodic warmth I strongly urge you come experience Peasant, an extraordinarily talented singer/songwriter out of Pennsylvania where he is also known as Damien DeRose. For a more intimate experience, which I always enjoy, grab a cup of java at Think! They have a nice little set up, complete with couches as well as wine and beer service. If you are on your way to see Bodies of Water or Port O’Brien at Mercury Lounge, do not blow your chance to catch an amazing first set. Finally something worth showing up for when the door opens.
O’Death/Hoots & Hellmouth
The Mercury Lounge
December 21st 2007
The night began at The Sidewalk Café. I met friends for drinks in preparation for New York’s own O’Death. My friends had introduced me to the band over the summer nights of grilling on our roof in Bushwick. To be honest I wasn’t sure what to make of them then. They sounded like deranged Appalachian whiskey hounds preparing to make some poor city slicker squeal like a pig. That and the Manhattan cityscape make a frightening combination. I had to see them live. While at the café, we received information telling us that O’Death’s show at The Mercury Lounge was canceled due to the fatality of the drummer’s fiancée. We were very disappointed.
“Another round of beers,” we asked the server.
By this time my beautiful wife had arrived and we had become anxious to know what the story was with our evening plans. I mentioned to my friends that despite the unfortunate events, O’Death might be the kind of band that would play on. I mean being featured two nights back to back at The Mercury Lounge is quite an honor, and what better way to remember a loved one than to celebrate them with music?
The doors of the venue were surely already open so I volunteered to walk down 1st Ave to Houston in hopes of learning our fate. I approached the doorman outside Mercury and asked him if O’Death were going to go on that night. He gave me a confused look, kind of tilted his head, questioning what the hell I was talking about. I explained that I had come into information that put into question O’Death’s participation in the show. I was slightly blotto by this point and was ultra cautious to be as sensitive as possible. He said that he knew nothing of it, and that the show was to go on as scheduled. I wasn’t convinced. We all know that a venue will say anything to get people in the door buying drinks.
I just knew that if I were to buy tickets that 11:00 would come around and someone would slink up on stage to announce, “Unfortunately due to unforeseen circumstances, O’Death will not be able to join us tonight.”
By then it would be too late to get our money back and we would have had to sit through an unknown number of crap songs only to be denied our desired band.
So I pressed a bit harder, “You promise that O’Death will play tonight?”
“Ask the band yourself,” he replied, pointing to a man lighting a cigarette.
“Excuse me sir, do you know if O’Death will be playing tonight?” I asked.
“Yea,” he quietly croaked as the flame of his lighter expired and the cherry of his cigarette transformed into a tiny inferno.
“I mean, are you sure?”
“Yea, we’re all here,” pointing inside to the long wooden bar inside.
“The thing is, I was told that someone close to the band suffered a fatality and that the show was canceled,” I insisted.
“That’s the first I’ve heard of it,” the man tossed his twice puffed butt into the street and headed for the entrance.
This convinced me. I felt like I had unduly worried a band member. Clearly everything was okay and whatever information my friends had received was false.
When I returned, I shared the news with my beer and wine sipping comrades. It was good news and bad news. Good because the show was still on and bad because I had started a texting spat between the provider of the seemingly false warning and the individual who disseminated the information among the crowd. One insisted on its veracity, while the other, convinced by my inquiry and answer, was upset at the misinformation. None the less we paid our tab and went down to the venue and paid our hard earned money for what we all hoped would be a fantastic event.
When we arrived, the first band had already finished and the second band had begun to pluck away into their set. A bearded redheaded ogre of a man fronted Hoots & Hellmouth providing quite an authentic hillbilly aesthetic. I was surprised to learn that these guys were from PA. I wasn’t aware hillbillies lived in the Commonwealth. They were a great bluegrass influenced band. I don’t remember most of their music through the fog of inebriety that was layering itself upon my hippocampus, but I remember it was good stuff. They reassured me that the evening, with or without the final act, would be worth the 10 bones it cost to enter the door.
The next band was no good. The rockabilly style they exuded was out of place and passé. After all I was drunk…I can’t like everything when I am drunk…I am sure they were a fine band, although I looked to others in my pack to confirm what I had suspected. These guys were crap. Just when I thought all the life was sucked out of the room, the lame band left the stage in prep for the final act. Members of O’Death could be seen walking amongst the crowd, so clearly some of them were to play. Maybe it would be a beatless hoedown, but to our half-surprise the drums got set up, as did the rest of the instruments. I knew this was my time to get a beer and piss before the show began.
As I reentered the room the crowd was ecstatic. The band mentioned upon commencement that this show was dedicated to a dear friend who had passed. I guess they were the type to play on after all. I shuffled my way to the front, eager to stomp around. I wasn’t sure what to expect. They ripped into their first song with the force of feisty old man named Uncle Sticky. Greg Jamie seemed to follow the same vein as Isaac Brock when he released Ugly Casanova with the guttural rasps of demonic possession fused with tooth absent, country dwelling peasantry. It is as if the rural psychosis sometimes found in Modest Mouse infected a perfectly decent and upright bluegrass band. What a delicious infection.
The drummer was an athletic type, pummeling through the set without a hint of depression. Clearly if his betrothed-to-be was deceased, he was not going succumb to the weight of loss or mourning. The bassist looked like a cave man pulled right out of the Museum of Natural History, shirtless and barbaric. At one point he leaned down and screamed in my face, I screamed back. I smashed plastic cups, and did a pounding jig-stomp that I had never performed before. I was a Pentecostal in direct communion with the Spirit. Mr. Jamie sang seated, but he never the less cranked out his tunes with a deranged face and vicious voice. The fiddler was tall and thin, looking like an intelligent, dishonest hick who we all know eats babies. Near the conclusion of the maelstrom, the band charged into a crescendo of noise. The bass player threw off his bass and jumped into the crowd, slam dancing his way through the audience, his sweat slopping to the ground like a mop head hovering over a linoleum floor, dripping in saline clumps and blots. I repeat there was a mosh pit for about 3 seconds.
When the lights came up I stumbled drunk and exhausted to the band to give my thanks. As I approached, Greg Jamie stuck out his hand and said that he appreciated my enthusiasm. I do not really remember the sound of the songs just the feel of them. The beat was omnipresent and the aggressiveness was imposing. Booze makes me pound on shit like a pissed ape presenting to his troop. My right hand was red and purple for days after. I still don’t know what to make of the band. I am not sure I’d listen to it at a party, or on an idle day of reading, or on any other occasion in fact. I know that the show was great. It was the format in which they shine. It is where they emit the energy that they intended with their recordings. It is live that the characters invoked by O’Death are given life. Perhaps this was the causation that kept the band playing that weekend- an inverted relationship between the name they display and the function they perform.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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 Seagull10:00
The Little Ones 11:00
Robbers on High Street 12:00
Eskimo Joe 1: 00
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
