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
Black Hat Brigade
Fathers EP
May 29th 2009
Unsigned
Black Hat Brigade- Zombie City Shake
Far from the cavernous sprawl expressed by earlier recordings, Black Hat Brigade has recorded an EP that will be described as one of the best releases of 2009. Their Fathers EP kicks so much ass, they aren’t permitted to tour in America for fear that their presence will make the heads of residents in Williamsburg, Greenpoint, and Bushwick explode. This really is a national security thing. It is worth noting that the religious right and Billboard magazine have rigorously lobbied INS to approve visas for the band—clearly an attempt to silence northern Brooklyn’s pesky music scene. You know what I say? Fuck it’s worth it! Get your asses to NYC! Sure Robert Haughey’s vocals might remind some of fellow Canadian Dan Boeckner, but who really gives a damn?
Like the morose joy of Eagle Seagull, Black Hat Brigade’s music is entirely different and in many ways better than Wolf Parade. Fathers is defined by a paradox. Dark lyrics that speak of blood, guts, and zombies are cradles inside of some of the brightest and most expansive dance music written for the small club stage. Or maybe it is just that I can dance to anything, but we all know this to be untrue. While there is not a bad track on the 7 song + 1 reprise EP, there are certainly a few standouts. Zombie City Shake, Castlevania, and Vera are all exceptional. These songs not only have the pop sensibilities that provoke inebriated jigs, but they throw back to the epic layers common on their first EP. Here, the voluminous multifaceted interplay is harnessed to produce ridiculous crescendos, the heights of which truly press the limits of grandeur.
So there is something called anti-folk…is there now brewing both in America and Britain, Australia, and New Zealand, a new style that might be called anti-rap? Zip Hop? I think so. Brooklyn based Das Racist have made an addendum to this burgeoning genre with their EP We Made It. I don’t want to over state their brilliance, they are after all extremely repetitive, sophomoric, and hook driven, but their level of mockery convinces me that the duos mere existence is one big sarcastic, backhanded compliment to the presence of hip-hop in the mainstream, a genre that has begun to take itself too seriously. Himanshu Kumar and Victor Vazquez not only name artists who they love but those mainstream villains they think need to go home, including Ludacris and Eminem. It is hard for a style so steeped in insincerity to stay relevant, but for now I’m digging it. Go to their Myspace page and listen to Rainbow in the Dark. That track about sums them up. I am not sure if we’ll ever hear from Das Racist again, but I am extraordinarily happy I got to hear them at all.
Tour
04/14 – Brooklyn, NY @ Glasslands w/ Wild Yaks
04/16 – Middletown, CT @ Wesleyan w/ Acrylics and Francis & The Lights
04/18 – Brooklyn, The Shank w/ Bear Hands & Tony Castles
Justin Lamoureux, after a few Midwest shows, will head East to perform solo. He will bring his quintessentially Midwestern music and story to Williamsburg, Brooklyn and will be playing at the staple upstart venue Pete’s Candy Store. Here listed, are other confirmed show dates. More to come…
Apr 1 2009 9:00 Omaha, NEThe Waiting Room
Apr 4 2009 9:00 Sioux City, IASioux City Eagles Club
Apr 7 2009 8:00 Vermillion, SDUniversity of South Dakota
Apr 17 2009 9:00 Omaha, NEThe Slowdown
Apr 25 2009 8:00 Omaha, NEBarley Street Tavern
May 16 2009 9:00 Louisvile, KYThe Nachbar
May 18 2009 8:00 Portsmouth, NHThe Red Door
May 19 2009 8:00 Philadelphia, PAThe Green Line Cafe
May 21 2009 8:00 NEW YORK CITY, NYPETES CANDY STORE
May 26 2009 8:00 Jamestown, NYLabyrinth Press Company
May 29 2009 8:00 Sheboygan, WIParadigm Coffee House
May 30 2009 8:00 Minneapolis, MN331 Club
In recent memory there has not been a band that has so succinctly captured the deep meaning and purpose of voyaging toward something unknown as the Whiskey Go Go’s. This is not only represented in their music, but also in their recent movement through New York City and LA. As the industrial malaise suffocates the broad sea of creativity and talent, some have made it their mission to ensure that their extraordinary presence in independent music is still felt. Vocalist/guitarist Matt Hutchinson and drummer Michael Noonan have exhibited their affinity for Brooklyn, playing multiple venues over the past two months. After their stints at The Trash Bar, the Whiskey Go Go’s played a set at Union Pool withParlor Grand whose MySpace quote says it all, “There are some Indians, There are some Whites.” Parlor Grand had a Crazy Horse aesthetic and a joy for performance that made their set entirely worth showing up for. Of course Union Pool’s delicious outdoor Taquito stand and wood burning fire pit didn’t hurt.
The audience at Union Pool was markedly different from that of The Trash Bar. I am not sure if this resulted from the particular type of punter each venue attracts, or from the high volume of random sophisticates and eager girls that decided to attend Union Pool that night. In any case, Union Pool’s show was somewhat more subdued. This is not to say the show as any less impressive; Hutchinson still had that same dramatic intensity. His eyes began tightly shut and his hands spoke with subtle movements. As the show continued he became ravenously wide-eyed and his hands seemed to reach out and extend past the crowd. He abused the whammy bar and scrapped the strings of his guitar along everything he could find, from the microphone mesh to the cymbal’s edge.
Mr. Noonan also played exquisitely. He is a disciplined drummer with excellent chops, which is important being that there are limited permanent members touring the U.S. There would be no room on this tour for an impressive front stage presence hampered by the dulling baggage of mediocrity. It was a privilege to get to see a second showcase of their new project Whiskey Rain, which is the title of their yet-to-be-released record. While unmastered, I have had the opportunity to listen to the new record. Though the record is largely influenced by various strains of Americana, it contains an authentic voice of its own. That voice contemplates love, loss, and ways to pacify the clutter of an unkempt mind…namely drinking…a lot.
The record is assembled with precision. The opening track, titled Whiskey Rain, is a collage of barely comprehendible exhortations, a wish list of affection set over amazing pop guitar. It is easily one of the most well written songs released this year. The following track, Wooden Hearts, is a bass driven, distorted soliloquy, narrating events with descriptions of natural elements and of violence, erupting into the refrain:
“You are the lady that I love…You are women that I adore”
This marks a defining feature of the Whiskey Go Go’s work. Hutchinson has written phrases that when heard are nearly impossible to suppress from being repeated over and over again in your head. Bang Shot is another incredibly well written track that begins with a simple and soft guitar melody joined by a perfect hum from the band. The song builds as Noonan’s snare pop makes the song onomatopoeic. The crescendo has all instruments at fever pitch as Hutchinson croons a new take on the old adage that it takes two…
“I held the gun, but she pulled the trigger.”
As a whole, the record succeeds almost immaculately, with only a few subjective missteps occurring. Every track is creative—undeniably a product of a band that benefits from the momentum of charisma and determination. Songs like Devil’s Banquet and Love Song round out the record, ensuring that it has balance and weight. Even White Angel and Yours Sincerely, the record’s most problematic tracks, have moments of stunning beauty and imperfect charm. The Whiskey Go Go’s have made a nice addendum to 2007’s Proud Tale to Them of Us, which itself boasted plenty of great songs like Rodeo and True Love. Hutchinson’s hollering madness and rustic sophistication is impressive. It is only a matter of time before they receive wider recognition. We are glad to have seen them when we did.
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
The Volunteers
Spectrophilia
October 23rd 2008
Unsigned
The Volunteers- FckMyGhost
It seems as though Volunteers front man Dan Goddard took on a wager. I imagine he boasted, with inebriated mettle, that he could write a song about anything…just name it. In this concocted explanation of mine, a whiskey pickled friend shouted back a reply, one that would truly challenge the stature of Goddard’s authorial prowess… “Ghost fucking; write a song about ghost fucking!” Not one to go back on his word, Goddard took pen to paper and rattled out the little masterpiece FckMyGhost. In usual style, the song is laden with debauchery and the most splendid male chauvinism. In terms of rock ethics, Goddard makes it clear that he fucks even when he is dead. My favorite thing about this band, other than the punchy, expletive laden folk-rock, is their videos. Featuring scantily clad women always wins in my book. I don’t know what is going on between Death and Mr. Goddard, but I know I like that bikini. The Volunteers exude a particular hedonistic aura that will always be appreciated. They embody Dov Charney’s work ethic to a tee.
The Brooklyn band released their newest record Spectrophilia in late October. Topically, the band branches out. They explore the art of political diatribe in Danger Everywhere You Turn and mention their amusing scenester woes in Namedropper, but these sincere moments are sparsely strewn between gravelly expressions of booze adulation. The Volunteers occupy an interesting space between idealized maturity and recklessness. They are a worthwhile slice of New York Americana. I can’t wait for their next video…
Okkervil River
The Stand Ins
September 9th 2008
Jagjaguwar
Okkervil River, along with other musicians gracing our planet, are “Cro-Magnons on drugs with guitars”—so says Will Sheff, frontman behind the band. He also says that hybrid vehicles are yuppie porn, while much of the rest of the developed world simply considers them responsible. Given that I am a rational and emotional decision-maker, why would I choose such a troupe of barely-evolved and underdeveloped rapscallions to tickle my senses? The answer to this question is clear: I had purchased the disk before reading Under the Radar’s interview with Sheff. Since I bothered to buy the thing, I figured I owed it a listen. I enjoyed Black Sheep Boy enough, but the net effect was that I went into The Stand Ins with a pretty negative attitude.
Upon listening to the first real song on the album, Lost Coastlines, I thought my initial instinct was right, driving me deeper and almost irreparably wedged into that negative attitude. For example, one of many catchy lyrics is “Every night finds us rockin’ and rollin’ on waves wild and wide, well we have lost our way, nobody’s gonna say it out out loud” followed by la’s ad nauseum and some sappy horns. That said, this song may be the highlight of the Stand Ins.
The next song, Singer Songwriter, has a nice twangy guitar accompanied by Sheff’s scratchy singing, approaching a drawl at times. Unfortunately, the lyrics are very distracting. The sole purpose seems to be to make a mockery of a musician who has got it all: good fans, good music, a good family. But somehow this is still a bad person who deserves to be made fun of—you get the feeling that Sheff is trying to teach him a lesson. Not only is the subject of the song mocked, but the band also goes on to poke fun at fans wearing brand-name clothing. Sure, that’s funny. But folks, watch out—show up at an Okkervil River show wearing Chanel, and you may find yourself on the receiving end of their wrath, or maybe just the subject of their next album.
Starry Stairs is another song about a musician Pornstar who has seemingly got it made. Unfortunately for this musician, (s)he is unhappy and feels the need to apologize to his/her audience “if you don’t love me, I’m sorry.” I, for one, am happy to accept the apology, though I have a feeling it was facetious, at best (This song does boast a great lyric, “I’m alive, but a different kind of alive” which reminds me of my favorite line from Kafka’s Metamorphosis). Something had happened here: I enjoyed the pop sentiment created on The Stage Names, as it was often accompanied by errant and sometimes twangy instrumentation, cheesy oooohs, and a great Sheff yell here and there. Somehow this effect was not achieved on the Stand Ins.
In general, this album is well-made with music of an out-of-time and out-of-place style, and lyrics that make you want to commit suicide—and to no fault of your own. Find yourself singing along to the 50’s prom style song Pop Lie (the only things missing are a Pompadour hair style and the movie That Thing You Do), and you’ll get chided for being a fake and a liar. This is where you realize that the entire album is trying to teach not only the caricatures in the songs, but also you and the whole world a lesson. This theme goes hand-in-hand with the saccharine qualities of the music- sweet, but devoid of calories. The album appears to be a treatise on nothing. Maybe not nothing—on things that “bother” Sheff like designer brand clothing and successful musicians. I don’t suppose we’ll be seeing sweatshop labor topping his list any time soon.
Bella Noir
Premonitions EP
March 7, 2008
Avow Records
Rarely does a band’s name seek to so completely describe its music. Bella Noir’s brand is dark and beautiful; it is atmospheric and heavily ambient with dim melodies of vampiric proportions. Vampiric in the sense that Bella Noir creates an intoxicating hybridity of sensual romanticism and tremolotic shades. The distorted reverberations blend every peak and valley, allowing coherence but refusing pomp and excess. The heavy set bass lines are the progeny of The Cure’s 1981 Faith, while rooted in gothic psychedelia, skin deep there is a sense of pop that prevents Premonitions from falling victim to obscurity.
Premonitions is a relatively short EP consisting of 6 songs totaling 22 minutes. This brevity owes impart to the extension’s fifth track Bellow, which clocks in at 42 seconds and merely serves as an intro to the closer Distraction. The EP is extraordinarily even in mood. I have not heard a record so flauntingly androgynous since Elliot’s 2004 sea change Song in the Air. As sad as I was to see Elliot go, I am thrilled to see Bella Noir emerge. Their lack of irony is a much needed contribution to Brooklyn’s independent music scene.
Incidentally, Bella Noir will play R Bar in Manhattan July 9th at 8 PM.
