The Amygdaloids
Theory of My Mind
Knock Out Noise
June 15th 2010
Imaginate by the Amygdaloids
In the Fall of 2005 I walked into Union Hall in Brooklyn to catch a public lecture given by Dr. Joe LeDoux, professor at NYU’s Center for Neural Science. While I have many interests, I always fell short in the sciences, so you can imagine I was quite certain I wouldn’t understand a word of Joe’s discussion of the world of neurons, memory, fear and that little nut shaped region in the brain called the amygdala. But Dr. LeDoux’s lecture was entirely accessible and served as testament to his ability to communicate the business of neuroscience. He has written two books aimed at a general readership, offering not-so-science-savvy folks an avenue towards understanding how their brain works. So one might say that Joe has embraced his role as neuroscience’s public intellectual, ensuring that what goes on in the realm of his discipline does not become too far removed from the questions and curiosities of the people. Think Ted Talks. But LeDoux’s connection to the complex world of neuroscience is not the end of the story. After the lecture, the audience joined LeDoux and a few of his fellow scientist friends up to the first floor of Union Hall where they performed as The Amygdaloids. Right before my eyes I watched these scientists shatter every stereotype concerning the “right brain-left brain” dichotomy. But that was 2005; The Amygdaloids have come a long way since that Union Hall show, releasing their latest record in June called Theory of My Mind.
The two clearest influences that inform The Amygdaloids’ music are the distinct styles of lead guitarist Tyler Volk and LeDoux. Through Volk’s guitar flow accents and power riffs reminiscent of the Monterey Pop Festival of 1967 and the immortal Woodstock that followed two years later. He celebrates the work of Jimi Hendrix and Carlos Santana with his blues laden psychedelia. LeDoux for his part writes songs that project the giest of 60’s dream pop, his songs are products of an ethic that demands good pop be, as Jack Tatum from Wild Nothing said, “catchy but not cheap.” LeDoux is a story teller who, with regard to lyrics and music, is guided by the path set out by the likes of Bob Dylan and The Byrds. The two band members’ influences combine to make a whimsical explication of neuroscientific import embedded in the form and fashion of rock and roll. The lyrics present in Theory of My Mind all hail from the band’s public intellectual ethos. Crime of Passion is a track that explores the question of how much responsibility individuals have when they commit crimes during heightened emotional states. The narrating character of the song croons from a prison cell, recalling the reasons he committed murder and his regrets, singing, “If I could go back, I wouldn’t have killed for you. You’re not worth what I am going through.” Appropriately, to accompany this morose contemplation, Rosanne Cash (daughter of Johnny) sings backup, imbuing the track with a strong sense of sadness.
Itis clear from the various titles of the songs that theme of Theory of My Mind is brain science, with all titles in some way referring to motifs of memory, fear, and individual will. Rhythmically, Tyler Volk’s Automatic Mind is a very creative endeavor that diverges slightly from the overall cohesion of the record. This side item song has a style of its own, mixing the choral melody of 60’s pop with the grim and gothic verse of early 80’s British post-punk. The song succeeds as an unexpected amalgamation.
The CD’s title track, Theory of My Mind explores a psychological question concerning when individuals begin to impute mental states such as desires and beliefs to others, and in turn believe that other individuals impute such mental states to them. In essence, when do we feel empathy; when do we recognize the hopes and fears of others and when do we believe they know or think about ours? Often the answers to these questions have been idealized as representative of our most human emotions, but these emotions are not so easily understood. These questions have diffused over a broad field of disciplines including anthropology, primatology, philosophy, etc. Theory of My Mind is a record that explores these and many other questions. Using the language of love, regret, and all the other entries in the lexicon of rock and roll, Theory of My Mind translates the inquisitiveness of the laboratory onto the forceful expression of the stage.
The Atlantic Manor
The World Beneath This World is Brightening
Do Too Records
Spring 2010
“The Captain’s Name Was Death” by The Atlantic Manor
“I am proud to be lo-fi. I know of no other way.”
The above sentiment offered by R. Sell, the Miami based singer-song writer known as The Atlantic Manor, has so much heart it inspires. He rightly suggests that no matter your resources, you can find a way to record and circulate your music amongst a community of listeners. Over the last decade R. Sell has released 11 diy, lo-fi records under the The Atlantic Manor moniker and from the looks of it, this dude has no intention of stopping anytime soon. Sell strongly identifies with the American underground music scene whose beauty and authority comes from the pure motives and raw energy of those artists that dare to do something out of the ordinary. With complete disregard for the monotonous expectations of the cacophonous clamor of the music industry’s crony-capitalist regime, Sell envisions the American underground as a community and a movement that is required in order to maintain any semblance of genuine and authentic artistry within America’s broader music economy. Simply said the shear volume of work and the grit and guts with which this project has been engaged is awesome. But it must also be said to be problematic. Any record from one moment to the next can be said to have varying degrees of relevance, but I am unsure if this can be said of The Atlantic Manor’s 11th release The World Beneath This World is Brightening.
The record opens with lackadaisical strumming and a twisted child like voice singing what seems to be a satanic version of Old McDonald Had a Farm. The second track Vessels somewhat resembles Joy Division’s Atmosphere. It is a 14 minute long cyclical and meandering progression with muted and indistinct lyrics. The strategy of the track is the same as Velvet underground’s Heroine, a simple structure with vocals littering the staccato guitar notes, though the track never builds, it does not crescendo, and it does not really move a muscle from the first note until the last. The next song, Failing By the Second, begins with a muted strum subtly sounding in the background, and a metronomic back beat that is upfront and unwavering, save the occasional fill. The song is minor and brooding; it is haunted by guitar distortion that mimics the sound of a depressed whale song or the moan of steel beams that shift back and forth in some post-apocalyptic wind.
Like the majority of The Atlantic Manor’s music, The Captains Name Was Death is structured by the cyclical pattern of a few strummed chords. R. Sell’s voice is bloodshot with humility. The track just rolls along as tremolo accents and an inartful clean tone guitar solo dance with the synthesized sound of a wood saw song. The drums for DeathCrown, the epitome of diy recording, have Stephen Morris all over them, but it is at this very moment that R. Sell’s formulations become tired. The songs run into to each other, making it difficult to decipher one from the other. While Apple Dreams definitely has wistful qualities, these qualities are mere replications of what was heard for 14 minutes in Vessels. The songs may not be exactly the same, but some might say that one’s existence makes the other obsolete.
The World Beneath This One is Brightening, like the record itself, is out of sync and out of tune; it is a mélange of minor chords and baritone mud sack sadness that never really translates into anything. At this point it becomes clear that the record is limited in its depth. The transition from The World Beneath to The Good Son is astounding in its sameness. The closer is a 12 minute depressant that perhaps encapsulates Sell’s best effort. Black River Runs’ attempt to infuse various unorthodox sounds into the haphazardly strummed guitar backed by a syth drone is quite appealing. I have received much of Atlantic Manor’s back catalog and am eager to peruse the collection of songs. Like a second-hand store, The Atlantic Manor conceals the occasional diamond in the rough, but that gem is all too often embedded in throw away tracks. I understand that The Atlantic Manor wants to be profoundly productive—11 albums in 10 years—but I would say that the band/the song-writer would be very well served if they or he or whomever was more selective of the parts of themselves that they choose to exhibit; that is if they would like their community of listeners to grow.
Other Music
Slow Drugs and Other Sorrows (2009)
On the Wrong Side of Saturday Night (2008)
All the Best Girls Have Winter Hearts (2007)
Sneaking Up on the Death Scene (2006)
The Trouble that You Left (2006)
Special is Dead (2005)
Failing by the Second (2004)
The Desperate Vibe of Emotional Devastation (2002)
The Hate We Get Going (2001)
When I am a Viking (2001)
Worst Case Ontario
Smallcraft
Self Released
Spring 2010
Once again Sam Weisberg and company have sucked our faces back to the summer of 1994. Worst Case Ontario and their fan base may get tired of people saying this, but it is meant in the best possible way. The epic two part guitar melodies juxtaposed with Weisberg’s gas huffing garage rock voice shuttles me back to the sidewalk out of Duffy’s Tavern to listen to the Flaming Lips sing Pilot Can At The Queer Of God. This is the stuff of geniuses; it was a time when you either sided with Pearl Jam or Nirvana; it was a time made for Little Bastard, Semisonic, Sponge, and all the other pop wrought bands that emerged mid-decade, after the descriptive “alternative” no longer referred to otherness or alterity, but rather the very essence of the mainstream. Slacker culture had won out on top. The only thing known about irony came from that damn Alanis Morissette video. This was a time for Mall Rats and Swingers; a time for being money. Tucked within those days of corduroy and flannel, were debates pitting Doolittle against Surfer Rosa, or Slanted and Enchanted against Wowee Zowee. Worst Case Ontario cannot help but evoke these memories. This isn’t the same thing as the Williamsburg music scene or the Bushwick art scene. Who had time for fine things? This band might circulate within the New York music scene, but they do not supplicate the trends of the day.
While their last record Burning Politely was noted to have had the same effect, Worst Case Ontario has made a shorter more concise EP trimming off much of the fat that weighed them down in the past. Like Burning Politely, Smallcraft is both endearing for its saturated musicality of the late 20th century, and inspiring for its display of rawness and earnestness. Particularly salient in this regard are the songs The Complainer and Starve, which encapsulate the very spirit of the band, though the other tracks on the EP are not nearly as interesting. The entirety of the Smallcraft project is displayed a marked improvement. The band has harnessed that space in the garage, that love affair we have with our slacker selves, and has added to it the slightest promise that they aim to be better, that they aim to be more. This is at no time more apparent than the 5:22 minute marker of the concluding track Capricorn every member of the band draws their instrument out full throttle, it is the very second where an otherwise bland track is given life and the band asserts themselves, that they aren’t exactly about not giving a fuck about life. Though the band does need to figure out how to find their sweet spot a little more often….the EP is so far from perfect…it doesn’t need to be perfect.
Nebraska philanderers Pharmacy Spirits are touring the US and are making a special 3 day stop in NYC. Though I am getting the word out a bit late, I can’t recommend this show enough. They have the most beautiful and affective tracks I have heard in quite a while. Over the past month or so have fallen in love with Jim’s voice. A contemporary instantiation of what post-punk or Brit new wave ought to sound like. Think The Cure‘s Faith with a bit more light and a bit more fuzz. Their latest album Teen Challenge contains some truly outstanding shit. Time to get to Manhattan or Brooklyn and see the energy of this outfit for ourselves.
Color Radio
Be Safe, Be Aware
September 2nd 2009
Unsigned
Not to contradict the legions of intelligent and insightful music critics who have commented on the worth and wonder of Color Radio’s newest EP Be Safe, Be Aware, but the best you can do is compare these kids to Coldplay, Arctic Monkeys, Doves, Travis, and Radiohead?! Let me set the record straight, if they must be compared to something or someone, let’s talk about Matt Johnson, Morrissey, and Tim Kasher smoking reefer in an alternate universe where 1984 and 2009 collapse into an eternal nightclub in Manchester. In this sense I can see why some might compare them to Doves, but not necessarily because they sound alike, but because Doves actually used to hang out at The Haçienda in Manchester in 1984. Some may say Tim Kasher, really? And I say yes, he is there, at least for a moment or two. But that would only be if I wanted to compare them to anyone at all.
Color Radio’s music is modern-it is heart felt-it is a topographic tour of dreamscape melody. Jonathan Ifergan and Tohm Ifergan, are an excellent guitar drum duo charmed by the familial fact that they are indeed brothers. The two are only increased in beauty by Matthew Thomas and Joel Chasco who in infuse the intense ambiance with their respective contributions of keys and bass. I would be excited to have this group meet and pair up for a couple of nights in New York City with another great Midwestern band Eagle Seagull. Color Radio are what their band name says they are. They pulse with color, attitude, and passion. Better yet, they are having a three date stint next week in New York, so December calls people, let’s go…
Other Music
Newest News- 2009
Feeling Like You Used To EP- 2008
Tour
December 11th 9PM Skully’s w/ Loyal Divide Columbus, Ohio
December 12th 8PM TBA Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
December 14th 8PM Arlene’s Grocery New York, New York
December 15th 8PM Midway Cafe Boston, Massachusetts
December 16th 8PM Glasslands Gallery Brooklyn, New York
December 17th 9PM Lulu’s Village Pub Port Jefferson, New York
December 18th 9PM Cranky’s Manatee Pub Cleveland, Ohio
December 19th 8PM TBA Fort Wayne, Indiana
CMJ Saddle Creek Showcase
The Knitting Factory, Brooklyn
Thursday October 22nd 2009
9:00 Beep Beep
10:00 UUVVWWZ
11:00 Old Canes
12:00 Orenda Fink
1:00 Miles Benjamin Anthony Robinson
So I suppose this is going to be a partial review, I got entirely too bombed to intelligently talk about the entire showcase. First I was happy to be on the guest list. I had just come from a bar in loathed Manhattan and had only few bucks to spend. So I spent it on Jameson…Then I broke out the plastic…I think…I should probably check my credit card balance. Anyhoo…
I want to thank Beep Beep for putting on such a great show. They were energetic and really exuded chemistry amongst one another. It is such a pleasant surprise to hear their genre of music without the band’s chaps and chest hair distracting me…although now that I imagine the band in chaps and with exposed chest hair, I think it might work for them….but only if they had drawn on pencil thin mustachios.
UUVVWWZ made some friends last week. Teal Gardner has really exploded as an exceptional stage personality. While it is still true that what they have to offer is somewhat inscrutable, they have mastered the art of their making. I mean to say that they are a unique, experimental sound factory that specializes in making people move. People simply don’t stand still at their shows. They have so much room to grow, but they are certainly an act to catch. I think they would compliment These Are Powers greatly. I mean it Teal, give them a call. Review of These Are Powers click here.
Old Canes…well what else is there to say, Chris Crisci and company played more of their fast paced numbers, but it was beautiful. They slung that Midwest Americana like mud at a tractor pull. After their set I cornered Chris to drink some Jameson. He imbibed…so did I…and it turned out to be one of the nicest conversations with a local hero I’ve had in a while.
As mentioned prior, Jameson was pickling my liver…Orenda and the dude with a long ass name had already played past my attention…although I did say hello to him in the hallway earlier…nice guy…
A review of Hollands first EP Faces simply does not require the verbiage of the common critique. If that’s what you want visit their web-site. Granted, a review drenched in metaphor and simile has its purpose—to convey a description of an artistic aesthetic that cannot be truly experienced without an encounter, a close approximation by deference to a literary and poetic image. My first thoughts on Hollands are uncomplicated and antique in their creativity. I believe that by deferring the experience of Hollands’ music to memories of our bucolic summer evenings, and self reflective and still mornings we are missing an opportunity to tell it like it is. Save the gobbledygook; save the bullshit.
Hollands is a wide ranging band that draws heavily from early 70’s classic rock and country. The band has the pop sensibility of Rick Springfield, the poeticism of The National, and the sincerity of Wilco. The band is simply excellent. John-Paul Norpoth plays guitar and sings, sometimes with the awesome discipline of CSN&Y, and sometimes with the raucous croon of Uncle Sticky. In this respect they’d get on exceedingly well with the likes of the Whiskey Go Gos. The energy is strong and the music well written. Though Faces is a mere 5 songs long, it covers a lot of ground. Hollands release their 2nd EP this fall. Having begun from such a sturdy, straightforward debut, Hollands is destined for good things, great times, and increased attention.
Tour
Sat Sep 12 2009 – 6:00 PM Boulder Coffee Company – B…Rochester, NY
Sat Sep 12 2009 – 8:00 PM Lovin’ Cup Rochester, NY Age
Fri Sep 25 2009 – 9:00 PM Nines Ithaca, NY
Sat Sep 26 2009 – 8:00 PM Lovin’ Cup Rochester, NY
Tue Oct 13 2009 – 8:00 PM Mother EP Drop Drop! New York, NY
The arts pace known as Secret Project Robot, by the water off Metropolitan in Williamsburg, welcomed their guests with a baby pool full of taurine laced energy drinks. While this was on its face a seemingly dubious display of corporate sponsorship, their presence was entirely appropriate. Energy was requisite. The music space exuded a “do it yourself” aesthetic in everything from the door-lady drawing hearts on the hands of patron who shelled out the $8, to the cheap vodka and whiskey or the large bucket of iced two liter mixers behind a small slab of a bar manned by a particularly festive cross-dresser and another barkeep, who I am sure would have been worth describing had his look not been so overshadowed by the slutty red lipstick and stuffed brazier. So too it went with the bands who performed; all had promise, all had songs worth listening to, all were experimental and dynamic, but all were outshone by the final clamorous fashion of These Are Powers.
In yet another sticky scenario, Secret Project Robot’s stagnant heat was oppressive, but they had sprinklers spouting off in plastic tubs so at least we knew they were thinking about us. Bill Salas stood behind his drum kit with a console of electronic rhythm pads, infusing the natural resonance of an open snare with manufactured blips and bops. Pat Noecker, ex-bassist for The Liars, wielded his instrument with genius pomp. His bass had been modified to produce an array of shrieks and moans; his contribution at times imitated the demolition of a 40 story building, other times it shot through the room like an auditory emanation of a laser cannon. And then there was Anna Barie. Part bean-shìdh, part international world-music pop star, Anna chanted smooth and cool, bobbling a rhythmic voice through wicker work of the drums and bass. She would volley steamy sighs down on an already moist mass of dancing limbs and then pull back with a low pitched croon.
The energy of These Are Powers is simply incredible. They have released a couple of records; their latest All Aboard Future, was released on Dead Oceans in February of 2008. The alchemy of these three musicians produces a refined and potent power from seemingly disconnected parts. As a group, These Are Powers function together with a rare sense of theater, fashion, and ragged opulence. For any avid show-seeker, These Are Powers are a must. Apparently the Chinese love them too…
Music
Terrific Seasons- 2007
Taro Tarot- 2008
Cockles (Split) with The Creeping Nobodies-2008
All Aboard Future- 2008
Tour
August 22nd 8PM Littlefield NYC Brooklyn, New York
August 27th 6PM Brooklyn Bowl Brooklyn, New York#
October 17th 8PM The Independent San Francisco, CA*
October 18th 8PM Doug Fir Lounge Portland, Oregon*
October 19th 8PM Crocodile Cafe Seattle, Washington*
October 20th 8PM Biltmore Cabaret Vancouver, BC*
# with Cymbals Eat Guitars
*with A Place to Bury Strangers
Wilco
Wilco (The Album)
June 30th 2009
Nonesuch Records
The danger of writing an unabashedly and deliberate self-referential album is immense. It is often the kind of indulgence that eternally condemns and confines many records of its kind to Best Buy bargain bins. Of course there are the great cannon makers who will always be remembered for their eponymous contributions, Led ZeppelinI,II, III, & IV; The Who Sell Out; The Beatles (commonly referred to as The White Album); etc. Wilco goes beyond imprinting their name on a record or a song (in this case both). Blaring their self awareness, they have titled their newest record Wilco (the Album), and the first song on the release Wilco (The Song). But with all this narcissism, the album’s contents are not Xeroxed copies and remakes. The songs are fresh.
The band has moved effortlessly from their post Uncle Tupelo reformations, A.M and Being There, through the nascence of Summerteeth to their seminal Nonesuch release Yankee Hotel Foxtrot and then on to the whammy crazed, Nels Cline addledA Ghost is Born, which won a basket full of awards—partly based on merit and partly based on the cachet accumulated by the release of I Am Trying to Break Your Heart: A Film About Wilco—arguably the greatest music DVD ever released. The film documents the production of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, cementing their status as industry underdog, giving even more attention to their follow up. From there they released a live CD documenting their 2005 show at The Vic in Chicago and later in 2007, Sky Blue Sky—a masterful retreat into neighborhood nostalgia and hometown reflection. With such a varied spectrum of song typology, where was Wilco to go? Their answer was a satirical celebration of themselves. The answer was Wilco (The Album).
Unquestionably the most polished and produced record of Wilco’s catalogue, this newest venture sees the band marinade amongst themselves. They are like an old married couple, the husband and wife begin to look alike. Cline and Tweedy alternate and converge through scales of distortion and wild free form feedback. Pat Sansone plays it straight with his standard roots rock licks that occasionally serve to anchor an otherwise frenetic guitar section. The album is eclectic in itself at times characterized by experimental loops and other times by subdued pop melodies. Leslie Feist duets with Tweedy on the song You and I. The song is soft and easy. It is a perfect midpoint between the pop orchestration the erupts in the beginning, Wilco (The Song), and the record’s conclusion, Everlasting, a song with subtle experimentation and a beautiful outro of wisping loops of Wilco’s signature guitar medley of Tweedy and Cline.
Wilco’s performance at Keyspan Park in Coney Island was worth the $55. I broke my own ethics in buying the tickets. No show should cost this much. When bands price themselves that high, it is a “fuck you” heard loud and clear. But I bought the tickets anyway and solemnly swallowed my convictions knowing that I’d get to see Yo La Tengo open. The predication of Ira Kaplan’s distorted wall of noise to the Tweedy/Cline symposium was phenomenal. It was like seeing my two favorite two cousins. The show lasted three sets. This confused me because I was pretty sure Tweedy was a little put off by the audience. It was tough to tell whether he was mocking the thousands of fans, many of whom were middle aged khaki wearing stiffs with pink ball caps or fraternity brothers sucking down fifths of Southern Comfort and screaming “wooo hooo” like Homer Simpson. At one point he stood in disbelief, shoulders ashrug when the crowd continued to sing Take Me Out to the Ball Game when he jokingly suggested it was his next tune. This underscores Tweedy’s dickishness but it doesn’t explain why he gave us everything that night. No matter the reason, it was a brilliant and a great show. Wilco is/are absolutely classic in every sense.
UPDATE: A reader points out that Nels Cline did not in fact play on A Ghost is Born. This is a misperception on my part stemming from the fact that I saw the group tour for A Ghost is Born and Nels was aboard. Thank you very much John-Paul for the correction. Somehow it is indeed more satisfying that Tweedy plays those solos himself. Though Nels is incredible.
Other Records
A.M.-1995
Being There-1996
Summerteeth-1999
Yankee Hotel Foxtrot-2002
A Ghost Is Born-2004
Kicking Television: Live in Chicago-2005
Sky Blue Sky-2007
01 “Wilco (The Song)”
02 “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart”
03 “Shot in the Arm”
04 “At Least That’s What You Said”
05 “Bull Black Nova”
06 “You Are My Face”
07 “One Wing”
08 “Handshake Drugs”
09 “Deeper Down”
10 “Impossible Germany”
11 “Jesus Etc.”
12 “Sonny Feeling”
13 “I’m Always in Love”
14 “Can’t Stand It”
15 “Hate it Here”
16 “Walken”
17 “I’m the Man Who Loves You”
18 “Hummingbird”
Set 2
19 “Heavy Metal Drummer”
20 “You And I”@
21 “California Stars”*
22 “You Never Know”*
23 “Misunderstood”
24 “Spiders (Kidsmoke)”#
Set 3
25 “The Late Greats”
26 “Hoodoo Voodoo”*
@ w/ Feist on vocals
* w/ Feist and Ed Droste of Grizzly Bear on backup vocals and percussion
# w/ Yo La Tengo
