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.
Pharmacy Spirits
Teen Challenge
March 2010
Self-Released.
Pharmacy Spirits – Books Pharmacy Spirits – Just Like Charles
This spring we received a beautiful gift from Nebraska’s Pharmacy Spirits. Following the path carved by their debut EP Every Song Ended In 1994, Teen Challenge stands on the shoulders of giants, and it stands tall. The record somewhat insinuates a contradiction, sharing the name of an evangelical Christian outreach program created in the 1950’s to heal the country’s youth of their addiction to drugs, alcohol, and sexual perversion. Pharmacy Spirits and Teen Challenge explores the expanse between depraved debauchery and outlandish treatment programs; the anxiety of each extreme is encapsulated by the band’s style. Taking a listen to their earlier EP, one recognizes a celebration of British and American new wave and post-punk engaged in fornication with college radio demigods, producing a dance driving vegrandis opus that is ultimately hip.
The observation that sometime in 1994 the music died sells the narrative that the 80’s was a truly significant decade. The lives of such admired artists as The Glove, The Cure, Joy Division, Bauhaus, The Fall, and later bands like the Pixies and Pavement (Slanted and Enchanted, 1992 and Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain 1994), all flared and faded by the time 1994’s final sun set. Though this would be only one telling of the story, as many would argue that the few bands who still release albums are alive and well, not to mention, the very existence of Pharmacy Spirits’ seemingly inarguable relevance underscores the fact that many of these bands’ early catalog has never been hotter. These artists though have come through the looking glass marred by the now romanticized experiences of sex, drugs, and death. Enter Teen Challenge.
Piecing together and then articulating the ambient qualities of a record is never easy. The critic is forever the douche bag for ever even considering the use of his vocabulary. Teen Challenge though has a warmth and beauty that is so exquisitely wrought with desperation and exhaustive emotion that it would be difficult to talk about it without reading like a canvas description at the MOMA. Teen Challenge has all that the throw-backs of the modern era could ever hope. The best songs make you want to dance, the rest are just as cool, though the contrast between pulsations such as Books or Just Like Charles and the slow downs like Safety Now only serves to elevate the power and energy of the former. Simply put, Teen Challenge is a beautiful gift that has reified all that we ever loved about the decade of decadence, yet at the same time Pharmacy Spirits has the guts and vision to move beyond a bygone time, through the looking glass, to explore what still counts, what is still relevant. By all measures they have succeeded.
Tour
August 28th 7PM Eclipse Records w/ Dragons Power Up! & tba Minneapolis, Minnesota
August 29th 9PM Vaudeville Mews w/ Gabe Cordova & tba Des Moines, Iowa
September 3rd TBA
September 4th TBA
October 1st 9PM The Cave w/ Gospel Gossip! Northfield, Minnesota
October 2nd 9PM 331 Club w/ Gospel Gossip Minneapolis, Minnesota
Two of the best touring acts are on the road out of Nebraska.
The Machete Archive is a heavy post rock thunder feast. Fuckin’ A man…They are one of the better live acts to grace the Midwest.
Yes this band fucking rocks and you really need to show up for these folks. In Brooklyn, they’ll be playing at Goodbye Blue Monday on June 16th…Yes, yes, yes, I know we all have our issues with Goodbye Blue Monday, but come on, it is like the new CBGB’s….or whatever. So we should all go see these rapaciously decadent instrumentals, maybe you’ll find that lamp you’ve always wanted while you are at it.
As for Midwest Dilemma (Read Review Here), this band isn’t coming to New York this time around but their tour has plenty of dates in Wisconsin, Illinois, Iowa and the Dakotas. The strength of this band is their story telling through music. It is truly an archival experience.
June 7 7:00P Piano Lounge, Cedar Rapids, Iowa
June 8 9:00P Ronny’s Bar Chicago, IL
June 9 9:00P Monks Kaffe Pub Dubuque, Iowa
June 10 7:00P The Historic Trempealeau Hotel Trempealeau, WI
June 11 8:00P Paradigm Coffee & Music Sheboygan, Wisconsin
June 11 11:00P Green Room Pub Sheboygan, Wisconsin
June 12 7:00P The Attic Books and Coffee Green Bay, WI
June 13 8:30P The Root Note La Crosse, Wisconsin
June 14 8:00P Thirsty Pagan Brewery Superior, Wisconsin
June 15 10:30P Lee’s Liquor Lounge Minneapolis, MN
June 16 7:00P Drunken Noodle Fargo, ND
June 17 9:30P Latitude 44 Sioux Falls, SD
June 18 8:00P Red Rooster Aberdeen, SD
June 19 7:00P Slattery Vintage Estates Nehawka, Nebraska
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.
So it is almost here. The most anticipated album in a…well…a long time. As part of a promotion for their upcoming record Year of the How-To Book, Eagle Seagull is having a free online listening session as well as making I Am Sorry But I am Beginning to Hate Your Face, a most delicious song off of the new record, free for download. All you have to do is sign up for their email list. Here is the address for the offer, http://media.pias.com/eagleseagull/. Visit their Myspace as well, http://www.myspace.com/eagleseagull. For those of you who don’t know this band, it is about fucking time you get your priorities straight.
Dan Deacon! Dear God! This man makes the most obsessively manic electronic music. After flirting with the idea of listening to him, I finally have and the words are lacking to describe the infinite party possibilities this man possesses. He sounds and looks as if he shotguns Redbull and freebases off his metal pocket protector…Who says the innovators of pop culture can’t be clad in frumpy sweat pants and a ball cap? Genius I hear…genius…
I showed up at Pete’s Candy Store with a couple friends around 10:30, having missed every single act to play that night except for Adrien Reju. I had no idea what to expect, and I preferred it that way, as my friend dragged me out of my warm apartment after all day of a pretty solid hangover and delightful deafness from the previous night’s show at Zebulon.
We sat down in Pete’s cozy venue as Adrien Reju and her band tuned and warmed up. From the first note, they exuded warmth, and their set stayed true to that feeling throughout. The band has a quiet, bluegrass sound peppered with twangy country and singer/songwriter-ness. Their look is perfectly humble. My favorite part was Jason Loughlin’s guitar, looking like it could have been found in the back of a barn under a pile of straw. Adrien herself is small, sweet, and adorable: a look which suits the music, not to mention the venue. It seemed like Pete’s small stage and the décor in it was made for Adrien and her musicians. But back to the music: the tunes are sweet and melodic, though the rare time, they come dangerously close to coffee-house banality.
With the beauty of Adrien’s voice and the ease with which she seems to sing, the vocals were rich and interesting. The voice and its innuendo drove the subtle emotions of the songs home. The real treat of the performance was the vocals. An accompanying singer, whose name I didn’t catch, produced perfect harmonies. What a beautiful noise they made.
