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March 26, 2006
countess apraxin
A few things:
1. UW Owl, whose song 'White Mountain' was featured on the "They Keep Me Smiling" comp, has a nice website now, where you can listen to some of the stuff they've been doing, find out about shows, and learn more about the also pretty mysterious HsDOM.
2. Jaime at Daughters of Invention has a fantastic, detailed, hilarious and lively recap of her trip to SXSW (definitely the most engaging and entertaining of the recent Austin travelogues I've read).
3. Saw Animal Collective last Wednesday night, in Philly, at the Starlight Ballroom. 3rd time seeing them, and while the music itself was amazing, there was something about the show that was a little lacking. Maybe it was the 15 minutes I spent walking alone through majestically terrifying and darkly industrial streets to get to the venue (my own fault), or the weirdly aggressive nature of the section of the audience I was in, but it just wasn't quite as fun or as invigorating as the previous two times had been. More about that later though-
Posted by Kevin at 09:43 PM
March 22, 2006
mind your pens and quills
There is something about this song in particular- the crosshatching of the guitars, the mix of late-night drama and strangely confident vocals tinged with regret, and that huge chorus- that compels me to direct a party. Not plan, but direct. Maybe bring in some local actors, provide them with weak characters to work with, then mix in some of my actual friends and see what happens. Pay a couple to fake a breakup halfway through. Have someone make a really embarrassing but also passably entertaining drunken speech about 1) life and 2) what they plan to do with theirs, that must include the phrase "pardon my french" juxtaposed with the phrase "raison d'etre". A party with that much drama, both organic and contrived, would make a perfect setting (in the jewelry sense) for this song, which really should be the center of attention- it's a song that shines, albeit in a muted, restrained way (it's like a celebration dotted with footnotes of heartache and remorse).
'Capitol' can be heard from a few different angles: the guitars are dark (inky), but Josh Nowlan's vocals are clear and resplendent, moving above the throbbing bass and drums so easily and buoyantly that you'd think it was due to some gorgeously odd chemical or physical property inherent in the noises themselves- but one of the most interesting (I think) aspects of this song is the chorus, and specifically, the lyrics. Nowlan sings, "fever takes me over and over", followed by "(pronoun)'s so (adjective), I can't resist"; not to make it seem as if Nowlan is singing an incomplete MadLib, but despite the fact that I've listened to this song more than 35 times, I still cannot discern exactly what he's saying there (maybe "she's so keen"? I doubt that's it, but who wouldn't love a chorus with the word 'keen' in it?). Which works out pretty well- makes the song even more open, even more widely applicable- since the song's meaning is so malleable, it becomes relevant to almost any kind of strife or crisis (especially the romantic variety). Matt Fluxblog wrote a fantastic entry about Enon's 'Conjugate the Verbs' that discusses this particular phenomenon (i.e. our ability as listeners to bend and shape a song to serve our own purposes).
Cities have made a great debut album- one that's full of big hooks, big sounds, and lots of energy ('Capitol' is pretty representative of the whole). I'm sure people will draw comparisons to Interpol and the Killers (mostly on account of the guitar sound and the prevailing dancey drumbeats), but I have to say that Cities make music that's about 1000x more charismatic and lively than anything the Killers have done, and unlike Interpol (who, I suspect, hate themselves), Cities seem to genuinely enjoy the process of creating music (it definitely comes across on the album). The band is releasing their self-titled debut on Yep Roc Records (home of Kingsbury Manx), on April 18th, and you can pre-order it right here.
Posted by Kevin at 12:20 AM
March 17, 2006
broken pews and one unused balcony
Adam & Alden at First Unitarian Church Chapel, Philadelphia, March 13th:
1-4. Unknown
5. Untitled (one of the ones performed on CKUT)
6-8. Unknown
9. Leaving Blues
10. Klezmer song
11. Sailing Ship on the Ocean
12. Unknown
13. Africa No Who
14. Bladerunner
15. Electric Puddles
16. Unknown
Encore
17. Unknown
18. Tears (Django Reinhardt cover)
19. Untitled ('sugar in my bones')
(*A lot of this set list is both speculative and non-sequential; I think they may have played even more songs)
There's no really easy way to put into words what Adam and Alden do; while they were working their way through 'Bladerunner' ("it's a song from the future", said Adam), I was leaning back into one of the creaking pews and trying to think of an accurate description of their music and the way the two interacted on stage. There were details that stood out, of course: the mutual concentration on and anticipation of the movement of fingers, the contrasting styles of dance (Alden is a groover, Adam is more of a writher), Alden's furrowed brow, Adam's stuck-out tongue, etc. This might seem overly simplistic and maybe more than a little bizarre, but what their playing reminded me of most is a sort of ridiculously obscure Disney short from 1935 called "Music Land" (don't ask how I know this cartoon), where the Land of Symphony-
-engages the Isle of Jazz in a musical war
To draw another equally strange comparison, I will say that listening to them play was like having the odd grammar of brutely split infinitives translated to music- there were moments in their songs that seemed designed to [rococoly, charmingly, sadly] ensnare, to [bluegrassily, humourously, technically] entertain, to [angrily, dandily, royally] sympathize, etc. (you get the picture). I think Alden said it best when talking to the crowd after the show- someone had said that one of the reasons they enjoyed the music was because it was so structured, which Alden agreed with, saying that there was definitely a lot of 'deliberation' in their songs, but that what he and Adam tried to do was "create a landscape but still leave room to paint the open spaces". And it was evident during the show that oftentimes one of them would hold steady while the other did his own thing- thrillingly, gorgeously improvising intricate patterns or sets of long, mournful tones.
As was the case with the Grizzly Bear and Soft Circle show back in the fall, the church's chapel served as an ideal setting- it is, after all, a room made almost entirely of old, solid wood. The acoustics were actually good enough so that Alden was able to sing the final song of the night ('sugar/rubber in my bones'- I don't know a better title for this song) without a mic, and his soft voice easily carried throughout the room- over both his guitar and the light plucks and sweeps of Adam's violin.
I was weirdly proud of the fact that, unlike what happened at Islands' first Philly concert, no one in the small crowd (which was apparently capped at 50 people) casually accosted the band with requests for 'Tuff Ghost' or 'Les Os'; when Adam asked part of the audience if they had come to the show that night expecting to hear Unicorns material, everyone vehemently shook their heads 'no' (although I doubt anyone would have admitted to such a thing, particularly when the quesiton was posed by 1/2 of the performing act).
It was a fantastic and insanely fun show, and I'm so glad that they decided to come to Philly to play. Alden mentioned at the end of the show that they've been trying to record all of their live performances for a record- they'd like to mix the live stuff in with some more acoustic work they've done, and with some of the material they recorded at a 'huge, empty concert hall'. Somebody also asked about the soundtrack for "The Hamster Cage", and Alden said that he's almost all done with it, and that it should be out some time in July (hopefully).
Other stuff (these are like the deleted scenes from the concert review):
The song 'Leaving Blues' was prefaced by a short discussion by both Adam and Alden. Alden first said simply that the song was about New Orleans, and Adam expounded a little by mentioning the telephone interview with mayor Ray Nagin (when he breaks down on air) was something that everyone should hear. Alden went on to talk about the fact that many of the people who were uprooted by the hurricane and had no place to live were going back- despite there often being no institutions in place to help them, they were going back to rebuild. The song itself is both intensely heartrending and slightly hopeful.
Adam gave everyone a short lesson on klezmer music, explaining how the introduction "called a doyna", was traditionally very slow and sort of pastoral, and then the other part was usually more in the mode of a wedding song.
After they'd finished playing, Alden announced that since they had 'no shit for sale', they'd be glad to say hi to everyone out in the foyer of the chapel. About 15 people stuck around (my 3 younger brothers and myself included) to talk. It was a fun discussion, and both Adam and Alden were extremely kind and generous with their time- answering questions from everyone and talking about the Montreal music scene versus the New York scene (they feel NYC leans more towards the abstract- "they're less concerned with harmony", Adam said), how the previous tour dates had gone (apparently things were not great (at first) in Burlington, where they got booted off stage after 5 songs and ended up moving the show to another venue, where they played for another hour), and originality in pop music (Alden eventually said that he thought the word 'pop' was so vague- "it's just a palindrome").
One of the best parts of the night came at the very end though, when everyone was leaving. As Adam and Alden were packing up their gear, people lined up to say goodbye, very politely and sincerely thanking both of them for coming to play and for playing so much amazing music so passionately and enthusiatically. It was pleasantly surprising to see an audience (or a large portion of one, at least) that was so honestly grateful for the performance that they felt almost compelled to personally express it to the performers themselves. Maybe it's not that rare a thing to have happen, but it was definitely remarkable and it ended the night in just the right way.
Posted by Kevin at 01:23 AM | Comments (1)
March 14, 2006
climb the water tower next to the woods
The Adam and Alden show was beyond great. More about that later though (mainly because my computer is fucked). P.S. I think I'm in love with this song a little bit (again): Dr. Dog - The World May Never Know, not sure why, maybe those double-hit moonbounce drum beats that pop up.
Posted by Kevin at 01:49 PM
March 13, 2006
note the fog fighters' bravery
Pushing today's entry to tomorrow, since I'm going to see Adam and Alden play tonight down at the church in Philly. Should be a fun show- I'm sort of wildly excited for it (especially since I took a day off from work tomorrow). Other bands coming up on here soon: Cities, (more) Animal Collective, Slint, et al.
Posted by Kevin at 06:30 AM
March 08, 2006
King Boduin
So it was about a year ago (more, actually) that I put up an entry about Portishead recording their third studio album. Apparently the project is progressing- but very, very slowly. The band have made the leap into myspace though (Portishead have said that this is their official spot, not just someone's joke, etc.), and are using the page to issue very intermittent updates about LP 3. My heart jumped a bit when I saw that they had some audio up- not complete songs, but what sounds like backing tracks (very bare-bones) that Geoff Barrow and Adrian Utley have been working on. I'm hoping at this point just for the album to come out this year- that's not too much to ask, right?
Jace/DJ Rupture has an extremely well thought-out and well-written entry about "Crash"s win on Oscar night, re: the 'characters' and what it would actually mean to make a movie that dealt, realistically, with racism (I especially like what Jace says about Polanski's "Chinatown", the fact that Polanski deals with the place itself by making it unreadable, like it's a lacuna in the text of the movie).
Posted by Kevin at 11:01 AM
March 07, 2006
floral print afternoon
The Clientele - (I Want You) More Than Ever
For a long time, I had the theory that the notes in this song, the ones that really matter (they all do), emerged by the process of spontaneous generation, proving Aristotle correct. Listen to the way the guitar just falls into the air at the beginning; it's hard for me to imagine that sound as a conjunction of hands and strings. It's just there- the particular reverb-soaked style that the band favors makes their songs so smooth and edgeless, and it becomes hard to get a handle on what are normally the easily identifiable discontinuities between guitar, drums, bass and voice.
'(I Want You) More Than Ever' comes closest (at least of the songs on "Suburban Light") to perfecting the kind of summertime purple-skied dusk that the band strives for, and I'll say that, personally, this song is most tightly associated with memories of riding around in a car (as a passenger), staring out the window, mulling over random and (in retrospect) trite anxieties.
You can buy "Suburban Light" right here.
Posted by Kevin at 10:10 AM
March 06, 2006
looney tunes and your ethics
Discoteca Collection Missao De Pesquisas Folcloricas - Chamada Do Aricury
What this song sounded like to me, before I heard it for the first time: a group of people (young and old), gathered near someone's house, sitting on large, smooth stones and small boxes, making a peculiar type of soft, broken weather with their voices. Clapping grass hands. Playing drums whose skins are improbably thick, glossy fronds stretched taught across sharp sapling frames.
Maybe my expectations were a little unreasonable (and weird)- but this song's taken from a set of field recordings made in northern Brazil in 1938 by the Folklore Research Mission, and with that kind of background, it's hard not to get all sorts of wild ideas about what the music will be like.
'Chamada Do Aricury' consists mainly of a simple, sliding melody- sung by a calm, graying voice, and accompanied by light percussion that sounds like the cicadas from Luc Ferrari's 'Presque Rien'. As the song progresses though, it seems as if the performance is augmented by the perfectly timed and eerie contributions of passersby (listen, at about 2:55, to the unexpected blossom of voices that reaches out) as well. The whole thing is wrapped in static and scratches, but it's one of the most sparsely beautiful things I've heard this year.
You can buy "The Discoteca Collection" right here.
Posted by Kevin at 12:31 AM