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
Kinase Moves the Audio After Silence Part 1
December 24th 2008
Unsigned
Kinsase Moves the Audio- The Flawless Veil
Scientific moments, measured and compartmentalized, structure the expansive debut EP from Lansing Michigan’s Kinase Moves the Audio titled After silence Part 1. However, the aesthetic projected out of that structure is proto-science; it is alchemy in the sense that the band transforms regulated units of time and sound into something else, something that reaches beyond its natural parameters. The ubiquitous Ryan T. Johnson, producer of the EP, writer of much of the music, and band member, has taken up a project of ambiguity. Perhaps stemming from his academic interest in the sexual dimorphism of the amygdala, Kinase Moves the Audio transverses the categories of masculine and feminine. They are at times brooding, while other times deeply melodic. The music shuttles and negotiates the boundaries between mechanistic synthetics and the natural elements of Afro-Latin rhythms, which are themselves an instantiation of music as mestizo. Even the track titles reflect an interest in hybridity. Anthrobotic, Idiology, and A Flawless Veil, are all titles that imply subtraction, compromise, and impurity.
“Fancy Cars and wine and women. Flashy clothes and gold and fashion. Now you sport a freshly sculpted face. Now you stand out in a crowd.”
The music is a garden bed expressing the pollination of an unmentionable number of influences from Maynard James Keenan to Bowie’s short introduction to Diamond Dogs. John Gapp’s vocals are impressive, exuding a noir romanticism and Aristotelian condescension. Modulated effects are woven through a mesh of organic drums and accenting Brass instruments. The orchestration skillfully assembles layer over layer without digressing into a cacophonous annoyance. This skill is a product of exceptional recording and production, as well as the ability of the numerous musicians to coalesce. Kinase Moves the Audio takes disparate parts and makes them one. The energy accumulated and exploded throughout this process is epic.
While it might be true that After Silence is conceptualized and anchored by a specific objective, the self-proclaimed genre that Kinase Moves the Audio operates within allows for an exceedingly large range of sounds. Mod prog—can we move on to post prog yet?—is a tricky genre to attach one’s self to. As a simple label it does little to describe the mode of music production, except to say that the songs are probably long, experiential, and mathematical in terms of composition. After Silence, while containing these components, is an EP that does not commit the foul sins of pretension and hyper-convolution. The aside comment being that prog often misunderstands the nature of music; it is not a collection of notes and time signatures; complication alone is not art. It should also not be contrived, having artificial meaning clumsily masking a clearly blank expression.Kinase Moves the Audio understands this and have sought to produce an opus that stands monolithically unified. The music is the album art.
Sky Picnic has certainly chosen their niche. Any and all critical exposition of this band must inevitably dissect its work into multiple points of contention concerning what the band is, what it aims to be, and the marked difference between the two.
Psychedelia—a genre of music that is often slandered for its trite obsession with squirrelly questions like, “What if we are all dreaming and reality is like the effervescent foam of the shark infested sea,” and “LSD, mind expander or time vehicle?”
Psychedelia—characterized musically by extended “trippy” solos mostly written in a minor key and saturated with reverberation, tremolo effects, and oscillating time signatures.
Sky Picnic seeks to embody this genre, claiming that they recreate “the unique psychedelic experience that has been absent since the era of Sgt. Pepper and Piper at the Gates of Dawn.” Wow! And listen to this—they will take you to the “outer fringes of the universe.” The over-the-top promises of mind blowing enchantment and the band’s very name invite skepticism. Simply put, Sky Picnic’s biography is a caricature of late 60’s early 70’s psychedelic rock and roll. This is not a band that maintains its innocence concerning direction or purposeful marketing. They whole heartedly embody the anachronistic phrase, “far out,” and their music does them no favors. The album opens with a sitar…
As far as their instrumentation, it is clear that only Chris Sherman knows his way around the studio. I understand the frustrations that come with limited time and budget. You can’t do everything in Pro Tools, especially when recording an album meant to convey the nostalgia of classic pychedelia. Everything I am about to say I am willing to bet is known by the band members themselves. The drums are poorly recorded, giving the entire affair a dull matt. LSD is not a sedative. The bass is often out of sync with the drums, which is often out of sync with the guitar, which seems to be the only constant talent in the band. It is clear that before these cats take me anywhere, much less the outer fringes of the universe, they have to learn how to play together. Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of bands I love who haven’t a clue how to play their instruments, but these bands are all equal partners in their cacophonous crimes, Sky Picnic struggles too much with who goes where, when. Synesthesia is a collection of 5 songs that because of structural, thematic, and stylistic problems would have been best left in the “ideas” stage of creativity.
Now what went right?
The post rock elements of Moons of Jupiter and the extended sprawl of Sequence IV are exceptional. The flavor tastes more of Godspeed You Black Emperor rather than the Beatles, but clearly this is a good thing. It is where Sky Picnic excels. In fact, I am going to rename the band. Sky…and just to give it that otherworldly aesthetic we’ll call them Caelum. Sky Picnic is hereby dubbed Caelum. The difference between the artistic direction of Moons of Jupiter and Half the Queen’s Face cannot be overstated. It is the difference between the rarely listened to, and thusly much cooler, Pink Floyd record Mettle, and Rocky Raccoon…bleeech! Of course Moons of Jupiter is the infinitely cooler song. Now this might expose a bias, some really love silly Beatles tunes and I hate them. While the dark tonal environment developed by Moons of Jupiter and Sequence IV do not justify the mechanical mistakes by the band- the errors are still present even in the best of moments- the tracks do set forth a vision of the band that is not amateurish or cartoonish. When they move into this cavernous space, the band demonstrates that they indeed can invoke images of the outer limits in a sincere and forceful way. Caelum (Sky Picnic) needs to vastly improve the production quality of their music, or at least use some more creative techniques in the recording process, and they need to continue to explore what is truly unknown about the human mind, rather than pursue a readily established and entirely exploited line of thought.
Death or Glory Presents(ed): Semi Precious Weapons
The Bowery Electric
February 19th 2009
“I can’t pay my rent but I’m fucking gorgeous”
While this proclamation has echoed through nearly every article of old and new media that discuss Semi Precious Weapons, we can’t help but use it to lead this review. First things first…the venue was…well the venue should have been called The Frosty Nostril. The number of suited Christian Bale American psychos walking into the bathroom in twos and threes was astounding—bordering humorous. At 10PM the venue instituted its delightful hour long open bar, serving any and all vodka drinks for free. The bar tenders weren’t stingy; in fact they were very cooperative to those perched at the bar. Being perched at the bar ourselves, we only too gladly accepted their assistance. Among the highly fashionable nightlife lovers, hovering over vodka sodas and cran, I felt my own morose and indignant attitude toward Manhattan recede. By the time Semi Precious Weapons took the stage to utter the mantra above, the entire audience was primed for the impending onslaught. This band exploits the trends and eccentricities of what at first seems to be a caricature of early to mid 70’s proto-punk pop-glamour, but as vocalist Justin Tranter stepped onto stage with his “quick poncho” and mile-high stilettos, the scent of authentic sexed hedonism permeated the dark dank underground room.
Semi Precious Weapons’ debut full-length We Love You was executive produced by Tony Visconti, known for his long time production relationship with David Bowie. This telling accreditation hints at the substance that the band peddles. Although their set at The Bowery Electric was truncated to around 30 minutes, it injected a dose of vociferous stimulation that, with us at least, has to this moment not quite subsided. After the first few minutes it was clear that the band, particularly guitarist Stevy Pyne, were fucking incredible performers. We were expecting to some degree the debaucherously refined energy Semi Precious Weapons were known to exert. We were not however expecting Mr. Pyne. I had to pay special attention to his face melting licks to be sure that there was not a prerecorded music track making up for the loss of control sure to occur when a set is played with such complete abandon. Even when he walked into the ravenous crowd his execution was perfect. As Tranter climbed over amplifiers and through the ceiling light fixtures, the crowd observed a love for performance and entertainment so rarely offered on the modern stage. While everything about the band exuded fashion and image, Semi Precious Weapons are not prefabricated dogs in show. They are their own masters of ceremony—demanding our attention with the full expectation of obedience. Semi Precious Weapons are slutty enough, aggressive enough, and talented enough to expect what they demand.
February 25th- Santos Party House New York, New York
March 7th- Plush Tucson, Arizona
March 9th-HELL on HEELS @ Beauty Bar Las Vegas, Nevada
March 10th- HELL on HEELS @ Bar Pink San Diego, California
March 11th- HELL on HEELS @ The Knitting Factory Los Angeles, CA
March 12th- HELL on HEELS @ Red Devil Lounge San Fransico, CA
March 13th- HELL on HEELS @ Voodoo Lounge San Jose, California
March 14th- In Store Performance @ Apple Store San Fran!
March 14th- HELL on HEELS @ Fire Escape Bar Citrus Heights, CA
March 15th- HELL on HEELS @ Doug Fir Lounge Portland, Oregon
March 16th- HELL on HEELS @ El Corazon Seattle, Washington
Fontana’s
Wednesday, January 28th
105 Eldridge Street, New York NY
(212) 334 – 6740
Doors 9pm / $5 / 21+
The Depreciation Guild are the first to take stage on Wednesday nights presentation, thematically titled The Rumble by partners Stranded in Stereoand Future Sounds. They begin the night at 9:30. If it is remembered, Frederick Foxtrott has been listening to these peeps for over a year now. As consumers of music en mass, we appreciated the fan-friendly gesture that The Depreciation Guild made in giving away their lasted work free of charge. Just go to their website, www.inhergentlejaws.com, and click on the yellow vertical stripe, and you too can have the record in MP3 format. Their sound is analogous to the sprawling noise and diffuse vocals of the shoegaze golden age with the addition of a 16 bit Nintendo synthesizer. Need we say more?
Cymbals Eat Guitars are relatively new to us. I in particularly enjoy their—and I hate to make such specific comparisons, but they make no bones about expressing their influences—Pavementesque, Isaac Brockian art rock, with hints of the poppier elements of Pinkerton Weezer and early Elliot albums. These guys have replaced Bodega Girls on the roster, which while I have nothing against Bodega Girls, I am very happy for the opportunity to see Cymbals Eat Guitars. For novelty’s sake, it should be noted that the lead singers name is Joe Ferocious. The kids arrive on stage at 10:15.
For those of you who have loved The Dears in all their form and glory, Black Diamond Bay will offer a sort of side view of what life after The Dears is like. Patrick Krief has apparently assembled a multi-layered, textural soundscape complete with ambient sounds and tribal drum work. This will be a great chance to cheer on a true original. After all don’t most guitarists who leave successful bands wonder off into obscurity (aside from Eric Clapton)? Let’s hope that as The Dears have restructured with unfortunate abruptness, they have not damaged the whole but rather multiply in greatness. Will we now have two great bands to listen to? 11:00 for these guys.
Hope to see you all there. As I explained to my friend Gusty Strangeluv, this show should be a 7/10 on a scale of sucktastic to radtastic…His descriptives not mine…
Darla Farmer and Wintersleep are starting 2009 with bright proclamations.This week Wintersleep are #26 on the College Music Journal‘s Top 200 chart. They released Welcome to the Night Sky last November and have toured with a number of great acts including Wolf Parade. Their mix of calculated, guitar driven rock gives Canada a good name. They left us wondering, what is in their water… just how many bands can Canada export? They are now touring their homeland and will zip over to Europe February 10th. They will be back in the US soon enough though, and we’ll be happy to welcome them.
Dylan Connor
Breakaway Republic
January 20th 2009
Unsigned
It is strange what a mass gathering of hallucinogen consuming, dust bathing, barter-system campers can convince you to do. Conceived while wondering around the Burning Man Festival singing songs for the evanescent joy of gratitude, Breakaway Republic was born of legend and wild spirit. But to be honest I don’t have the stomach for another “record birthed from unusual circumstances” pitch. What is the record about, who made it, and is it any good? These are the questions that I want the answers to. A caveat, I hope those who fall in love with this record take my comments cum grano salis (from one Latin lover to another). For all others, you have been warned.
Breakaway Republic, named for the particular camp that Dylan Connor resided at for the duration of his Burning Man experiment, is a saccharine pop album with shoddy lyrics and easy melodies reminiscent of lesser loved Gin Blossoms records. For all intents and purposes this is Mr. Dylan’s therapy—his catharsis—and that’s cool, but it is no excuse to expect an uncritical response to obvious Elvis Costello impressions. Breakaway Republic is pop—plain, non-nuanced, unchallenging, contrived pop. The music is well performed, and well recorded. The record has what could be called high points; Blood Like Fire is some pretty damn good Americana, and Have a Little Dream is an excellent melody over and simply strummed guitar. It has the beauty of a signature Marc Cohn tune and the soft sound of James Taylor. That having been said, Breakaway Republic lacks gravity. It is simply too deficient to qualify as even approaching relevant.
Tour Dates
January 16th – Bridgeport, CT – The Field
January 17th – Philadelphia, PA Secret – House Party
January 30th – Brooklyn – NY Bar 4
February 18th – Philadelphia – PA O.N.E.
Emanuel & the Fear
The Bowery Poetry Club
January 9th 2009
Another cold night in January had me waiting in Sláinte on Bowery in Manhattan. The idea was to drink a pint until 10 PM, when the doors next door at the Bowery Poetry Clubwould open. Unfortunately the ass-hole of a bar also served as a reminder why exactly I dislike drinking in Manhattan. Eagerly leaving Sláinte, I encountered an entrance line strung along what seemed to be the length of the Bowery block.
Inside, the music space swarmed with devotees waiting for Emanuel & the Fear to take stage. The Age of Rockets opened with awkward audience conversation and what made for an interesting display of Ben Gibbard influenced pop. The crowd became thicker and thicker; the room teemed with Pabst Blue Ribbon armed teenagers and care free couples. The room’s energy was nostalgic. It has been a long time since I’ve been so intimately surrounded by bright eyed excitement. Too often these days, any sign of appreciation by the audience is taken to be social ineptness on their part. While sharing not even the remotest amount of context, the experience reminded me of being in my hometown, watching some unknown band at the Culture Center, or any number of bands down at the trailer park. The atmosphere was electric, from the girl offering herbal downers to silhouetted smiles dancing through the powdery color of neon light.
Emanuel & the Fear populated the stage like an army of musicians. The 11 band members took their places and readied their violins, guitars, and horns for the opening song off the night’s featured EP, The Rain Becomes the Clouds. In contrast to the clean and polished EP track, their live rendition snared the audience with its palpable emotion. Emanuel’s voice, while tremendous on record, cut through the room with commanding appeal. A common thought throughout the show was that the band works best live. They are built for performance. Comfortable Prison and encore closer Jimme’s Song exemplified this best. Both begin soft and fragile with punctuated vocal pauses. They then become, to different degrees, voluminous and driven. The self-titled EP has many great elements, but Emanuel & the Fear require a space that allows the instruments to differentiate themselves. The studio seems to have compressed the tones and notes. The less densely stratified textures of their live performance elevate the band from their already excellent yet humble talent. Their mix of electro-pop and orchestral quality composition are a sight to see. As for Emanuel & the Fear’s intense take on Radiohead’s The National Anthem, you’ll just have to see that for yourself.
This Friday, January 9th, Emanuel & the Fear will be playing at the nicely named Bowery Poetry Club. The doors open at 10pm withEmanuel & the Fear playing at 11:30. This event will be an EP release party for the band via Paper Garden Records. They will be displayed in full force with 11 players on stage. The venue should sell out so buy your ticket at the link below; the cover is only $8.
While I am as curious as anyone to hear how Emanuel & the Fear sound live, I know that Paper Garden Records has a history of supporting very talented artists. The EP release party will be filmed, which always adds an extra bit of energy to all shows.
The project is a labor of love. John especially has a real command of the music, which last night consisted of blues tunes by such legendary musicians as Charley Patton and Blind Lemon Jefferson.
John played with precision a variety of hoary guitars, and he delighted in talking about each one in between songs. Eden strummed a steel mandolin and sang with a gentle brusqueness that was more southern black woman than Williamsburg white girl.
It’s music that doesn’t quite fit in the blogosphere age. That’s what makes it good.
