.: July 2008

Dr. Dog, Soundfix

Oh wait. This didn't happen, due to a "throat injury" in the band. I bet it'll mysteriously disappear for their show tomorrow.

Oh wait. Black Kids played at Virgin Megastore today. (I saw The Black Knight instead).

NOTE: The throat injury has been confirmed. Some of Dr. Dog's show dates have been resecheduled. I'm sorry I was hasty and cynical. I was just super disappointed I couldn't see a band I love listening to.

Siren Festival, Coney Island

I can't intellectualize music forever, all the time. So instead, thanks to advice from a friend, I'll dish out some advice of my own. For the most part, I took my own advice.

DOs: (I followed 3.5/5)
*PLAN what bands you're going to catch before you get to Coney Island. Don't be stupid and try to see too many, but be a little ambitious. Run the plan by the people you're going with. 9 hours may sound like forever, but it absolutely isn't.
*LEAVE during the last song of one band's set to get a good spot for another band at the other stage. I know, it's your "favorite song". Bull. You can listen to it while you push sweaty people out of the way and run from falling cups of beer.
*MOVE as close as you can to the stage. People will scowl. Scowl back. Flip them the bird. They'll tell you there's nowhere to go, but there's always room for one (or a few) more. Follow chains of people that seem to be succeeding at weaseling through the crowd.
*PAY attention to the DJ. If you're a music nerd, you could be pleasantly surprised. For example, I learned that Ted Leo from Ted Leo and the Pharmacists is a terrific DJ.
*BITCH and moan about condos.

DONTs: (I didn't follow 6/7)
*WEAR a Joy Division shirt. Really, stop!
*DRINK some random guy's bourbon. You might not die from alcoholism, but you sure could die from lots of other things...
*CROWD surf. You will fall. You will be laughed at.
*TAKE all of the free vaginal contraceptive film. It's not going anywhere, and you'll find another bimbo if your current bimbo bounces.
*JUST see the bands you've heard of. Experimenting will not make the event any less f. r. e. e.
*WEAR lots of clothing. If you decide to be skanky, be skanky on Siren day. Regardless, it will be hot and you will smell. You might as well be naked and more comfortable so you don't simmer in hot, sweaty clothing.
*SMOKE in people's faces. That's just obnoxious! Curb the habit until you're not in a crowd or at least have the decency to be aware of your puffs.

Fiery Furnaces, East River Park

(Pretend this post isn't incredibly I'm late).

Apparently, Fiery Furnaces spear-headed the concert series at East River Park, hanging a "clothesline in honor of the tenements that used to be over there." Oh, how New York. The dome of the stage even resembles one of the Brooklyn bicycle caps Spike Lee used to wear back in the day.

Opening acts can often reveal something about the headlining band, and Drug Rug certainly exaggerated Fiery Furnaces' folkish tendencies. That, and their surprisingly low-key nature. It seems like no one is talking about their upcoming August 19th album release, and the attendance at the concert was lower than I anticipated. Low-key seems like such an odd adjective for such a quirky band with such a distinctive musical niche. However, Fiery Furnaces' quirk is distinctively mature: singer Eleanor Friedberger delivers spoken-word tinged, gritty vocals that almost verge on lacking pitch quality all-together, there are constant tempo/key changes, the songs carry dark undertones, careful schizophrenia and intermittent honky-tonk keyboard classical piano interludes. Particularly in a live setting, listening to Fiery Furnaces makes me feel like I'm experiencing being an adult through an infants eyes and the reverse- at the same time.

While there is certainly a lot of thought that goes into their music, there is simply too much to digest live- a lot of abrupt musical changes, wordy lyrics, and a vocalist with a pitch-to-noise ratio that resembles that of a timpani. Their ability to deconstruct and reconstruct a song but keep it cohesive is impressive, but difficult to follow unless close attention is paid. It's interesting that with all of this complexity, Fiery Furnaces chooses non-dynamic instruments. Non-dynamic instruments are just what I call instruments that don't respond to idiosyncrasies in the artist's changing velocity when playing notes. MEANING it sounds more mechanical, because the instruments cannot convey an artist's idiosyncratic expression.

That being said, the quality of the sound systems and the balance of the instruments were excellent, and the two drummers (count 'em, TWO) were fabulously in-sync and provided perfect rhythmic accompaniment. Plus, Eleanor looked like she was jabbing her guitar every time she played it and did the "walking-backward-awkwardly-while-clapping-thing" I love to watch (click here, then here).

St. Vincent, Castle Clinton

Castle Clinton is a beautiful setting for a concert. Orderly, timely, historic, and peaceful. The chairs reminded me a bit of a graduation or a wedding. But despite being a bit reminiscent of such vomit-inducing occasions, it was lovely. Seeing elderly people at concerts makes it even lovelier. Especially when they read sex columns in Time Out New York unabashedly.

St. Vincent is a terrific live performer. Recorded, her music is beautiful, but live it is beautiful with a twist- funkier, edgier and wittier.

Her choice of instrumentation was superb, and the sound translated perfectly to the audience (at least from where I was sitting). Could it be? A real sound check? The keyboard was very close to a real piano sound (at least compared to other concerts I've attended this summer). French horn, saxophone, flute, guitar, bass, violin and drum where carefully layered into each song. The violin was the main melodic accompanying instrument. I couldn’t even tell what it was connected to, but whatever equipment St. Vincent used, it worked well. The violin produced a beautiful natural tone on some songs, and strange highly processed distorted guitar- sounding tones on others.

Annie Clark, the woman behind St. Vincent, reminds me of a bird in her live performances. She doesn’t walk around the stage much, but she bows and pecks at the ground in fits of excitement. The way she holds her guitar in her hands in the middle of her small frame reminds me of an impatient mother-bird with a worm in her beak.

Annie has such a diverse range of songwriting. Though it’s not quite storytelling, it feels that way. Her music feels intimate, and the structure of the songs is a bit tangential and vagrant but somehow still cohesive. Soft and tender to loud and piercing, most of her songs encompass these contrasts and embrace an incredible, satisfying completeness. At times her music feels like a ball of energy gasping for ways to escape; at others it’s floating effortlessly. All of her songs place special attention on timing, silence and space within a piece- something that is lost in many other live performances of alternative music (as opposed to classical and sometimes jazz).

There are tons of people on stage, but I get the impression it's mostly Annie who is creating everything. Not only because she's the lead singer and because I know she wrote the songs, but also because of something less tangible about her presence. It’s not that her performances seem like improvisations, because they definitely don’t. But it does seems as if she’s giving the music breath, and its organically coming out of everyone's fingertips through her- the band is an extension of her voice, instead of just accompanying it. She couldn't always hit the high notes. But unlike seeing Cold War Kids in Prospect Park, I didn't really care. It didn't seem sloppy, but human. No one should ever need to strive for Itzak Perlman / Yo-Yo Ma perfection. Sometimes that type of proficiency gets mechanical. The point of music is to convey something. That process of communication gets lost in sloppy performances, but is facilitated through normal, human expression. Annie's vocal flukes were just that- normal, human and a bit expressive.

Her weaker moments are when her songs lose their completeness and don't have range. Without the range of familiar, weird, soft and edgy components within her songs, they become boring. The musicians on stage even give off a different vibe when her songs aren't diverse. The new, self-proclaimed "Prince-inspired" material she performed is just that- repetitive and too much like a parody of a "slow jam". (She used the word "slow jam" first, for the record... but plural, her slow jam songs would absolutely have a 'z' at the end). Alright, maybe a ‘parody’ isn't quite the right word, but it does feel like the new material she sampled is yearning for something else- some twist, some departure, some more Annie quirkiness.

Also, wouldn’t you think that someone who is constantly reminded of their past with the polyphonic spree would make sure to NOT choose all-white concert garb?

Whatever. Welcome to Brooklyn, Annie…like everyone else…

Who the hell is Ziggie?

Well, despite the tons of releases that dropped on Tuesday, I'm going to play a little catch-up. Sorry, no time to discuss the new Beck or the new Cocorosie 7 inch or the new Albert Hammond Jr. right now.

I forgot to mention one of the best parts of my July 4th: the train ride to Red Hook (even despite the J and F trains, and my horrible lack of intuition when it comes to directions). Some women in front of me were discussing philosophy. Deep. I, on the other hand, was discussing my fatty cut (deep) and how gross it was...

A black man dressed in all black clothing walked onto the train. A spiked collar perfectly outlined the circumference of his neck, and a tourist's hat squished the top of his naturally dreaded hair. His smile revealed, well, nothing- he was missing most of his front teeth, and a light lisp trailed his speech. Whale noises came from the suitcase in his right hand.

I looked to the thirty-something amateur philosophers in front of me. It's an unspoken rule that when something out of the ordinary happens on the train, you're allowed to break the tacit code of indifference, sangfroid and antisocial behavior to assess the situation at hand. They looked back at me to assure me that they'd heard the whale noises too. Together, we figured out the suitcase held an amp.

I looked at his amp and printed in white stencil was "ZIIGGYY.com". A homeless man with a website? Huh? Okay, maybe I was presumptuous. Maybe he wasnt homeless. Maybe he thought he looked really cool. According to some, much to the disdain of everyone else, dirty/worn-out stuff is the new black these days. Some choose the look, while others adopt it because of circumstances they can't control. He could have been some mix of the two.

I go to ziiggyy.com a couple of days later and it redirects me to a myspace page. He has friends. More than I do. He has pictures, even one with Citizen Cope. I don't like Citizen Cope, but, you know, people know him. He's on an indie label. Even with a few strong connections, I can't get a job at a label. People say things like "miss you baby" and "come back to England!" on his wall. My wall has messages like, "you're sketch," "traitor," and "get me a job...now...please!"

I realize that despite college, I'm probably going to struggle a lot when I get older. He'll be happy and dead by then. Shortly after that I wished I gave him the 5 dollar bill in my pocket...

Lots of bands, Afro Punk Festival Day 1, BAM parking lot

The Afropunk Festival continues until the 12th (possibly the 13th), but so far I've only caught the first day. Lots of people with lots of melanin in kind of weird clothing, stuffed in a parking lot. (# 34 and # 2 are the most appropriate...) Sounds like a good time.

I haven't seen the Afropunk film yet, because I've missed all of the 2309480293842 screenings near me. Perhaps I'll get to see James Spooner's newest film. Click here for more on the film/movement/etc....

The Apes:
I don't really get them yet. I have a feeling they are a band that sounds better recorded. Think Celebration vs. DJ Spooky vs. Gravy Train's odd-ball kitschiness without the excessive sexual innuendo. The bassist seemed to be having a conversation with someone in the audience the whole time. I seemed to keep yawning the whole time. Find out for yourselves.

Afrika Bambataa:
I had no idea Afrika was going to be there. What can I say? The Master of Records (capitalization is required) in the flesh with Zulu Nation. Except now he's older, bigger, without his shades, and spinning mediocre sets for an older crowd featuring James Brown and Stevie Wonder...and then Beyonce and run-of-the-mill dancehall. What happened? I don't know but God, I would kill my first born for one of those dookie beaded zulu nation chains.

Janelle Monae:
She was the act I really came to see. After a longer than expected set from DJ Prince (eh), and after having to peer between the annoying free posters that were given to some in the crowd, Janelle jumped on stage singing her poppiest, most danceable single to date: "Violet Stars, Happy Hunting". This girl has taken cues from the most unlikely of places: Disney, for example. Her entrance very obviously imitated the kind of announcement you'd hear waiting online for a ride at Epcot: robotic, child-friendly, and full of fog. Her onstage persona is the marriage of a cartoon character and a wind-up doll; like a cartoon she's only seen in her character black and white threads- a white and black jacket, highwasted slacks, cummerbund, and bowling shoes. Her bug eyes and quirky dancing might as well be part of her outfit.

Janelle crowd-surfs and throws water, ripping a page out of the aging rock n' roll handbook, but sings with an absolutely mellifluous, controlled, and expressive voice taken from Leena Horne's book. Hell, she even looks like Leena. I'm not sure if she's been influenced a lot by working with Outkast or if they're just on the same funky wavelength, but the wigged, heavily costumed guitarist might as well have been born with the name Andre 3000.

I appreciated seeing the live drummer and guitarist, but it would have been great if she could have recreated onstage a lot of the polished background music present on the record, instead of just having a DJ spin it from colored vinyl. I'll give her a break. She's a relative newbie so she can't quite roll with a deep musician crew just yet. That word 'musician' is key, though. As if I were attending some jazz concert or an old-school rock concert, she gave the musicians a bit of time to show off their skills, herself included. With jazz guitar backing her, she sang "Smile", a song well known in Nat King Cole's repertoire. It is this era she exudes in the very essence of her being, and it is this era she has recreated and given a futuristic edge in the essence of her passion.

Is this really music of the future like people proclaim? I wouldn't go that far. It's not that novel- it's pop music with a twist, and admittedly, it's a bit corny. Other people have blended genres before and in a much more unique, unnerving way. Of course, it doesn't have to be earth-shattering to be interesting. Is it good music? I'd absolutely say yes. The little twist she puts in pop music is just refreshing enough to work.

Palatable uniqueness is the first step to expanding the public's musical palate. Thanks Janelle, you "afropunk" (of sorts), you.

In honor of the newest DIY, The Bodega...

DIY venues are terrific and horrible. They're terrific for their horrible-ness, and horrible for their terrificness.

Though people seem to lament New York's past, the 80's maybe, when venues weren't filled with blog-hyped bands and weren't getting "shut down every two seconds", I don't. Maybe it's because I barely popped out of my mom's woo-hah before 1990 approached. Maybe it's because I got into fringe music pretty late (for whatever reason). Maybe it's because I have a hunch that smaller venues aren't getting busted any more frequently than before and because the "hyped blog bands" shouldn't be faulted or denounced for playing more intimate venues. Music for music's sake is a beautiful thing. And for goodness' sake: it's not Clearchannel, LiveNation or the now ginormous Bowery Presents. Yes, breathe a sigh of relief.

Pros...
-fringe music
-'music head' crowds
-little fluff
-ALL AGES!
-LITTLE/NO MONEY!
-more bands

Cons...
-shotty equipment / bad sound (usually)
-little ambiance: basements and unfinished walls could be a con for those looking for atmosphere
-no liquor license=potential trouble with Johnny Law...and no more venue...

A few notable DIY/ smaller Venues in BK, NY:
-Death By Audio: my highschool grad party was thrown there, and then everyone got kicked out for a broken sink
-The Bodega: owned by the folks at ChiefMag. Follow the murder sign downstairs. (more on the July 4th show, later)
-Goodbye Blue Monday: right next door. Looks like your g'ma's attic threw up. I like it.
-The Woodser
-Soundfix: okay, it's not DIY, it's an instore, but it's pretty damn close.
-Asterisk* Art Project
-Issue Project Room (though rumor has it that they're moving to a more permanent location soon)
-The Yard
***I forgot to mention
-Silent Barn
-Market Hotel

DIY/smaller Venues in the city:
-@ Seaport 219 Water Street: (brought to you by the people who produce the free summer shows at the Seaport...I'm not sure if it's still around)
-The Stone
-The Tank
-Less Artists More Condos

THERES TONS. Todd P claims he's booking less, but check his page anyway. He's a good place to start. If anything, I respect him for a genuine interest in giving artists a voice and a place to play, and for giving underage kids a place to go in a 21+, 18+ city.

High Places, Stuy Town Oval

So I was supposed to post things like "this is one spin off of the new primitivism movement" and "this brooklyn duo..."

But that won't happen. As soon as my foot touched the Stuy Town grass, I heard Mary Pearson say, "Thank you, have a great evening". As in, I heard Mary Pearson say, "Hey slow poke, the show ended before it even begun for you. Try being on time!" That's it. "Have a great evening." Damn. But don't be fooled, I still have something to say.

Summer in the city has always been full of music, but it seems that concerts are even appearing in the city's butt cracks this year. I don't mean butt cracks derogatorily...maybe I shouldn't have used that term. Listen, all I'm saying is people are getting more creative with venues, and I think it's a good thing. It reminds me of site-specific pieces or Le Blogotheque minus the French. ALL. SUMMER. LONG. I mean, stuy town? REALLY? At least one of Robert Moses' (many) failures can be used for some good- for anyone that can show up on time. Unlike me.

The crowd was very placid. Yes, a bunch of artsy kids in the middle of "the projects" are expected to be a bit on the quiet side, but I wasn't quite expecting deafening monotony. Even the children in the playground seemed to be under the constraint of some large mute button. Were people *gasp* listening to the music? I don't know. I wasn't there.

Anyway, I happen to like what I've heard of High Places. Even if they play the same song over and over again, I kind of enjoy listening to that one song. I've tried to pinpoint their sound, and I've realized I can only describe it this way:

Imagine watching 60's rerun television with your children on some sort of imaginary (hence the word imagine) legal hallucinogen- it must be legal. You and your children watch some show that has something to do with a washing machine filled with adorable children's clothing adorned with cartoon characters, small pieces of metal (nuts, bolts, etc...), and fragrant bubbles. Lots of bubbles. You just drank some tea with honey, and you and your children begin to sing. It's windy outside.

That whole scenario is what High Places sounds like. Go listen. Don't go to myspace.com/highplaces. You'll get this guy.

I've had enough of these 'I should have been there' posts. You should be sick of it too. REVOLUTION IS NIGH- I'm going to be on TIME.

Apologies!

As I edit this page and alter lots of html code, there will be lots of slip ups and accidental emails sent (I'm afraid I've already sent 102938102938019283 of those).

Sorry again, and please bear with me!!!

.

Dr. Dog, Soundfix

Siren Festival, Coney Island

Fiery Furnaces, East River Park

St. Vincent, Castle Clinton

Who the hell is Ziggie?

Lots of bands, Afro Punk Festival Day 1, BAM parking lot

In honor of the newest DIY, The Bodega...

High Places, Stuy Town Oval

Apologies!

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