Nina
EMMA
Filed under: Emma, Nina, Uncategorized | Tags: american music, folk, future projects, wild at heart
"This is a snakeskin jacket! And for me it's a symbol of my individuality, and my belief... in personal freedom."
Hello, all. It’s been a while.
Loyal followers – all 12 of you – and anyone else who periodically stumbles upon this here blog: After graduating from our good ol’ alma mater of Boston University’s College of Communication with our heads raised high and our eyes glued open to stave off panic-dreams, we sat down and thought.
Well, mostly all we ever do is sit down and think, but this time the thinking was a more directed thinking, a thinking brought on by extreme panic and fear. And excitement! LOTS OF EXCITEMENT TOWARDS THE REAL WORLD.
Post-college is scary these days. I don’t know if you knew this, but there are no jobs, especially not for journalists. And while there are tons and tons of unpaid internships to be had and coffee cups to be filled, we want something more.
So, we’re embarking on a new project. After spending what seems like a lifetime (AND KIND OF IS) thinking about what music means to us, how it effects our lives in subtle and obvious ways, how it punctuates moments and inspires both good and bad ideas, we’re looking outside. We’re looking across America, actually. Or at least, we’re going to try to.
The main thing about American music is that…there is no main thing about it. There are a ton of micro-genres, niche genres, and mixed genres, with more cropping up every day. That’s great. Innovation is great. Yet, there are still a whole lot of people deliberately looking towards folk as their chosen means of expression. We’re gonna go take a look at how that’s going, and we’re gonna make a lot of motherfolkin puns along the way.
Focusing on folk music in America today, we’re setting out to speak to young musicians across the country about what folk music means to them and where they envision the music they play in regards to the large, rich history of folk music in American history. The project will begin in Boston, Massachusetts, and expand as far north and south as we can go with a Zipcar and very, very little money throughout the summer. Then, god, Allah and GaGa willing, we’ll take it on the road, pack up Bertha the Toyota Camry and head to infinity and beyond.
We hope you’ll keep checking back to this blog periodically as we will still try to update it occasionally, but we also encourage you to follow the progress of our folk project – tentatively called “Folk to Folk,” though we’re desperately seeking a better name – on our newly formed Tumblr.
Please feel free to give us recommendations of people to talk to, bands to listen to, books to read and sites to see. We need all the help we can get to make this project see the light of day.
Thank you all. Good night, and good luck.
Filed under: Emma, Uncategorized | Tags: "Idiot Heart", "Last Day of Magic", "Your Little Hoodrat Friend", almost famous, band love, band-aids, Cameron Crowe, Sunset Rubdown, the hold steady, the kills
“Can you believe these new girls? None of them use birth control, and they eat all the steak! I mean, they don’t even know what it is to be a fan. You know, to truly love some silly little piece of music, or some band… so much that it hurts.”
-The immortal words of “Almost Famous”
I blame Cameron Crowe for making me believe that if I wanted to be a music journalist like his young wide-eyed protagonist William Miller, I too could find myself on tour with a ”mid-level band struggling with their own limitations in the harsh face of stardom,” writing 1,000 word cover stories for Rolling Stone (and getting paid for it) and conveniently picking up Lester Bangs as a willing mentor. Myths! All myths. Especially because Lester Bangs is dead. But there is an aspect to “Almost Famous” that still rings true: The struggle to separate one’s undying love for a band from the need to take yourself seriously as a journalist. (No matter how many professors tell you A&E isn’t real journalism.)
As Ms. Penny Lane once said, “If you ever get lonely, just go to the record store and visit your friends…” Well, today, your iTunes store, but whatever. Work with me here.
The “relationships” I’ve built with my favorite bands have lasted longer than most of the romantic relationships I’ve had. (Is that sad?) I’ve turned to the wisdom of Craig Finn from the Hold Steady in times of trouble, and he always provides me with some damn good advice. When I feel like things couldn’t be worse than they are right now, “Your Little Hoodrat Friend,” reminds me that while, “It burns to be broke and hurts to be heartbroken, always being both must be a drag,” and as I yell along furiously, I feel better. I mean, jeez, at least I don’t etch things like “Jesus lived and died for all your sins” into my neck. (Though I have at times considered tattooing “Damn right I’ll rise again” into my lower back, but the urge is usually gone by dawn).
“Your Little Hoodrat Friend” by The Hold Steady on Separation Sunday
Or when I can’t imagine another day of the mortal melodramatic turmoil that is my current situation, I turn to Mr. John Darnielle, the Mountain Goat, and listen to him scream, “I am gonna make it through this year if it kills me!” Because, goddammit, I will.
(This video of Craig Finn joining Darnielle on stage at a recent Mountain Goats show in New York. Witness Finn in his Happy Baby Potato-head glory)
There are more nuggets of immensely comforting wisdom to be found: When my legs feel restless, I listen to “Idiot Heart” by Sunset Rubdown. Spencer Krug will rightfully tell me to “stay away from open windows and put the telephone down” as I move my idiot body around. Recently, The Kills, who are admittedly less prolific than the above three artists, have been my best friends. In moments of rage and madness, or simply room cleaning, I can scream out of tune with Alison Mosshart about how “There’s only so much you can lose before we both collide.” And obviously, when she’s singing about her “little tornado, her little hurricane,” she’s singing about me.
“Idiot Heart” by Sunset Rubdown on Dragonslayer
I will defend almost anything the bands with whom I have a distinguished relationship do, often blindly. When the newest Hold Steady album Heaven is Whenever came out to only mediocre reviews, I mulled it over for a while, then decided it didn’t matter because “The Weekenders” had the line, “The theme of the party was the industrial age, and you came in dressed like a trainwreck.” And now that the new Kills album Blood Pressures isn’t getting as rave reviews as their previous (incredible) Midnight Boom or No Wow, I refuse to write it off. (“Satellite,” “Heart Is A Beating Drum” and “DNA” are good. Don’t mess with me.)
“DNA” by The Kills on Blood Pressures
My point is, “Almost Famous” may have instilled some absurd expectations of what being a music writer would be like, but it also makes a vital point that music journalists should keep in mind: Loving music “so much that it hurts” is an affliction that both leads us to being able to write about music passionately and often, but also makes it hard to write anything bad about the bands you love most. And this is dangerous.
As I’ve learned in my trade school (journalism school, that is), there are often topics that journalists just won’t touch because they cannot approach them with an objective eye. I think music journalists have to approach things that way too. Although neither The Hold Steady or The Kills new albums in question are that bad, even if they were, I fear it would be hard for me to say so. Much like in “Almost Famous,” a music journalist must dance the line between indulging their passion for music and not praising bands as gods. (If you’ve seen the movie as many times as I have, you look for the true lessons there – young William gets in trouble with both the band and Rolling Stone; the band thinking he sold them down the river as Jason Lee screams, “I SOUND LIKE A DICK!”; the magazine thinking he wrote the article as a fan, not a critic.)
This means in the future, when I hopefully actually employed and getting paid to rant about music, I will try to not write about the bands I hold nearest to my heart. I make this statement now, and though I will want to go back on them in the mythical world of payment for words, I will not do it.
Because I’m a grown up. And I have self-control. And amble space to doodle the names of rock stars in my notebook, where no one can see.
Filed under: Emma, New Music, Uncategorized | Tags: Jessica Lea Mayfield, La Big Vic, Reading Rainbow, South by Southwest, tUnE-yArDs
Crowd on East 7th has their game faces on. SXSW 2011 Day 1
Huzzah! We returned from SxSW, weary, run down, lugging cameras and (in my case) tons of snot and tissues, back to this rainy and cold city (seriously, where did those three nice days of spring go?) But all the exhaustion, blisters and general loss of sanity aside, it was an incredible experience.
Before leaving, I read an article (which for the life of me I can’t find right now) which wondered if the music portion of SxSW was already “irrelevant,” in that it was no longer exclusively attracting industry people and unknown bands seeking promotion, as it once did… that one time in 1987 (jussplayin’). These days, SxSW draws an enormous crowd (this year was the biggest ever, according to the concierge at the Courtyard by Marriott, who told us that we’d never get a cab home before 4 a.m.). In some ways, the article predicted the debauchery of SxSW 2011: Some venues seemed to choose crowd control over technical issues, resulting in tensions between the artists and showcase sponsors when the sound wasn’t quite right; many music journalists resorted to reviewing the festival in poorly done Gonzo prose, retelling drunken exploits instead of focusing on the music. And the flood of #SxSW hashtags tweeted by the 50,000+ smart phones bustling around 6th Street in Austin succeeded in pissing off anyone who was paying attention to the unfolding horror in Japan, the UN strike on Libya, and basically anything more pivotal than indie music.
Despite all these truths, SxSW 2011 was also a spectacular place to be, a well oiled machine of non-stop action which brought out passionate music geeks from all over the world. Almost everyone I spoke to was there to learn about new bands, not just figure out where Kanye West would show up on the last night. The claim that SxSW is now irrelevant because the attendees have changed doesn’t take in to account that the way the world consumes music has changed with it. The internet feeds an enormous audience every new morsel of music minutes after it is released, or sometimes, recorded. As long as people who really care about music find their way to SxSW, it is far from irrelevant. In fact, its overloaded-ness makes it arguably the most relevant festival around, hurdling the largest mix of music consumers I’ve ever seen to one confined place and leaving them to their own devices.
Sitting on a sub-woofer at Gold Panda, still can't totally hear out of my left ear 5 days later.
And from all this, I learned a few things: One, feet are overrated. Next festival, I’m getting a motorized wheelchair. Two, if you’re getting over a cold and going to SxSW, the cold will come back with a vengeance, so bring some green tea, cayenne pepper and lemons with you for the morning afters (IT WORKS, TRY IT). Three, despite the spiraling awfulness of the world at large right now, there has perhaps never been a more exciting time for music. The amount of incredibly talented, creative and just plain nuts bands out there is far too high to count, and if I’m lucky, I’ll never be able to know them all. But I will keep trying, because the satisfaction of seeing a band just absolutely slay a new audience is one of the best highs around.
And on that note, some favorites:
Jessica Lea Mayfield performs at the Billy Reid and K-Swiss SXSW Shindig at the Swan Dive in Austin on Day 1 of SXSW 2011.
“Our Hearts Are Wrong” – from Tell Me on Amazon.
Mayfield released only 100 copies of her first disc at age 15 and it fell into the hands of fellow Ohio-an Dan Auerbach of The Black Keys. Auerbach helped Mayfield with her first full length album, 2008′s With Blasphemy So Helpless, and earned her some wider audiences (she also recorded some of the back ups on The Black Keys’ “Things Ain’t What They Used to Be” on 2008′s Attack and Release). While With Blasphemy showcases Mayfield’s slow, silhouette-y vocals and disconcertingly heartbroken lyrics, Tell Me has her breaking out of semi-monotonous and sad tones to do some more upbeat, catchy numbers. She’s added in the drum kit, some back up vocals and more electric guitar, but she’s kept the dark and mature lyrics from her first releases. By the way, this chick is still only 21 years old. Listen to what she’s singing and then, can I get a resounding… dammmn? (She’s playing at Brighton Music Hall in about a week)
tUnEyArDs at Terrorbird Media / Forcefield PR Party at Red 7 Patio, Day 1
“Fiya” – from Bird-Brains on Amazon
Merrill Garbus started recording solo as tUnE-yArDs in 2006 with a voice recorder, music sharing software, a ukulele and what sounds like off-beat drumming on anything that would keep a rhythm – a true testament to the way music gets around today. She’s moved up since then (though surprisingly slowly, I can’t quite believe tUnE-yArDs isn’t huge yet) and has gained a larger audience opening for the likes of St. Vincent and Thao. Now signed to 4AD, she performed at SxSW with two trombone players and a bassist, but her tremendously soulful voice and often hysterical, strange lyrics (See: “News,” in which she proclaims, “I can get pregnant with birds who sing prettier than you,” among other things) are what truly make tUnE-yArDs so great. I can’t stop listening to this album, and although her numerous performances were often plagued by faulty mechanics at the festival, I’ll blame it on SxSW and go see her again at Brighton Music Hall in May.
Reading Rainbow performs at the 21st St. Co-op at the Sexbeat Party on Day 4 of SxSW 2011
“Wasting Time” – from Prism Eyes on Amazon
We happened upon the fuzzy joy of Reading Rainbow at the 21st St. Co-Op up by UT-Austin on the last night of SxSW. The married couple of Reading Rainbow, who hail from Philadelphia, look like they’re about 19. But Sarah Everton and Robbie Garcia play the kind of stripped down post-punk that makes me love Wavves 2010 album, King of the Beach, despite my hatred for the man himself. Everton bangs restlessly on a floor tom and snare drum while Garcia wails on the guitar, and the two top it off with some gritty-but-pretty harmonies. They’ve mastered a minimalist sound but left room to roam to somewhere a bit more hardcore with rampant reverb. Still, in their comfort zone (and on their first album) Reading Rainbow feels like a nice big noisy hug after a long day, and makes me want to drive home from work, bang on my steering wheel and scream lyrics incorrectly.
La Big Vic at wnyu 89.1 fm/pellytwins/tigerkitten family/pixelhorse showcase on SxSW Day 3
“Musica” – single from Weathervane Music Organization compilation (found on their Bandcamp)
One of my favorite parts of the festival was escaping the chaos of downtown Austin. We got bussed away by van to a little house south of the city, where the wnyu 89.1 fm/pellytwins/tigerkitten family/pixelhorse present showcase lit up a backyard filled with Christmas lights, twisting trees, kegs and worn down couches. It felt a bit like magic to sink back and space out to La Big Vic, who played hypnotizing and entrancing songs. Lead singer and violinist Emilie Friedlander sounds like a tribal Nico while synth player Peter Pearson, and synth/guitar player, Toshio Masuda, fill out their euphoric sound. As far as I can tell, they don’t have a full album out yet, but the above track and this one featured on Pitchfork’s Forkcast back in May make for some seriously unwinding noise.
Here’s a video from that sweet show by Liz Pelly of the Boston Phoenix:
End of side one, side two coming at ya soon…
Filed under: Emma, New Music, Uncategorized | Tags: Chappo, Mixtape, Screaming Females, Slang Chickens, Spring, SxSW, The Boom Bang, Wye Oak, You Can Be A Wesley, Young Adults
So far this month: We’ve had the continuing attack on Planned Parenthood complete with an attempt to create an institutionalized difference between “rape” and “forcible rape”; a meltdown of democratic rational in Wisconsin; Libya and the Qaddafi family situation (and I’ll just group Charlie Sheen in there because I actually don’t care about Two and Half Men at all, but all the “Who said it?” games were pretty funny for at least a minute); the attack of NPR by irresponsible right wingers seemingly learning about the powers of the internet from Anonymous and 4Chan; and, most tragically, 9,700+ missing in Northern Japan after the record breaking earthquake and tsunami with a lingering potential for nuclear disaster… and the list goes on and on.
While enjoying arguably the first truly nice Boston day this year, I couldn’t get the never-ending newsreel out of my head. And I shouldn’t be able to, because whitegirlproblems (like trying to figure out which South by Southwest showcases to go to) are pretty pathetic in contrast to the global disasters abound. Actually, they are incredibly pathetic. Even completely irrelevant.
Of course, this narrative probably goes through the mind of every remotely informed college kid, sitting in their favorite dive bar, complaining about how their landlord painted the interior of their house a nice poop brown color. We’re learning to carefully contain our inescapable, egotistical bullshit as we wade into the world like babies in diapers, while remembering the importance of perspective. Essentially, none of us are alone in this. We’re all just parts of this entire culture-specific generational clusterfuck, experiencing the same things on both a large scale and a small scale, even if the casts of characters and circumstance are tweaked.
…
Whoa, apologies for the intensity there. Anyway, back to that whole “enjoying the spring day” thing. This SxSW planning situation has caused me to enter into some serious internet loop-age, as I find myself trying to listen to as many bands playing around Austin next week as possible, focusing on those who aren’t already well-represented across the music industry. Kudos to Bandcamp (which I really hope replaces Myspace soon) for streaming all the bands registered with their site who will be at SxSW. I’ve been listening to that off and on all week, and in the process, found some pretty cool music.
Plus, a plethora of bands, both well known and becoming more well known, have released stellar new albums in this shit storm of a month (apologies again for using the word “shit” so often in this post, it just feels appropriate these days). So, without further ado, LET’S SHARE, shall we? No mind-fi required.
Let Us Out – Young Adults / buy full album on Bandcamp
Gotta start by representing Allston here, though (and this is the honest truth) I first heard this track by chance while doing SxSW research and THEN realized they hail from only a few blocks away. These guys are kicking off The Phoenix/Great Scott/Private Promotion! First Contact party on March 16th in Austin, and they sound like they were formed in a basement somewhere (because they were). They’ve opened for Wavves and Best Coast, and they do their best to yell above the noisy, noisy punk emanating from their guitars and amps. All in all, sounds like a good Allston time. Here’s an article from the Phoenix about ‘em.
Come Home – Chappo / buy full album on Bandcamp
Can’t find too much information on this band, but this single from their EP Plastique Universe, released last April, is some pretty catchy stuff. It’s got a bit of a Flaming Lips sound, and lead singer Alex (sweet last name) Chappo’s semi-falsetto vocals keep the back and forth tempo from losing it’s psychedelic poppy-ness in the repetition. They’ll also be playing at SxSW at about five different times and venues, according to their MySpace.
Civilian – Wye Oak
Wye Oak’s new album Civilian is getting much press coverage from NPR’s All Songs Considered (you can stream their live show from them here), so I don’t think I need to rave about it too much. Every “I want to go to there” showcase in Austin features this Baltimore based duo of Jenn Wasner and Andy Stack at some point, from Brooklyn Vegan to the A.V. Club. They’ll also be at The Middle East in April. This title track is excellent, reminds me of some ’90s Aimee Mann style folk with a funky 21st century twist, fuzzy guitar solo and all.
Tropics – Slang Chickens / buy full album on Bandcamp
Sidenote: Covering “Age of Consent” ever is cool, but covering it with a BANJO!? Be still my heart.
Another Bandcamp find: Though I’m not quite sure how I feel about their name, this L.A. band proves once again that if you sound anything like the Kinks, I’ll probably like you. From what I’ve read, no one seems to see this connection, so maybe it’s just this single. Or maybe I’m crazy. Regardless, they’ve got a nice blend going on, sometimes harmonizing, sometimes breaking into a punk rock frenzy, sometimes playing horns, sometimes sounding like surfer rock. Color me intrigued.
Tokyo Roll – The Boom Bang / buy the full album on Bandcamp
Speaking of surf rock… This is another band I can’t find much info on, but they sound like they’d be a damn good sweaty mosh pit of a time live. There’s quickened heartbeats all over this song, and their whole EP, for that matter. Plus, their 7″ is called Bummer Camp. That’s pretty great. Also, their from Oklahoma City, which is in OKLAHOMA. DIVERSITY? Sure.
Daisy – Fang Island
Just threw this in as a cushion from the last song to the next, but only because Fang Island’s self-titled album isn’t quite timely news anymore. But, if you didn’t give them much of a listen last year for some reason you can’t remember now (like me), now’s a good time for revisiting. Right. Now.
Old in Florida – You Can Be a Wesley You Can Be a Wesley – Old in Florida / this is a single, buy (a different) full album on iTunes
Another Allston/Boston/BU band. Genuinely don’t think there’s a song of theirs I don’t like, and this new one doesn’t disappoint. At least, I think it’s new. There’s even this swell house party-esque music video to go with it.
I Don’t Mind It – Screaming Females / buy full album on Amazon
There are few things I like more than a punk band with a female lead singer, and Screaming Females, another band featured in almost every SxSW showcase I’ve written in bold letters on my face somewhere, hail from New Brunswick, N.J.! Jersey! Woo! Double time. They’ve got a DIY punk sound that wavers from Sleater-Kinney yelling to more controlled, rhythmic tracks reminiscent of The Pixies.
Filed under: Albums, Emma, New Music, Uncategorized | Tags: iron & wine, kiss each other clean, sam beam
Photo by Piper Ferguson
When Iron & Wine’s first album, The Creek Drank the Cradle, came out in 2002, it was Sam Beam’s rich lyrical imagery, bare bones guitar and wistful, whispery vocals which set him apart from the throngs of Super bearded folk-roots singers out there. (The S is capitalized on purpose, that should probably become a genre within itself by now)
Then, the practically flawless Garden State soundtrack was released just a few months after Iron & Wine’s second album, Our Endless Numbered Days, and proved itself more popular than the actual movie it scored. Among the many notable tracks on Garden State was Iron & Wine’s haunting, stripped down version of The Postal Service’s “Such Great Heights,” which solidified my impression of the band as beautifully moving, but frankly, depressing.
Such Great Heights (cover)
In a recent interview with the AVClub, Beam claimed he does not write sad songs. “I want to describe a feeling, and write something that’s true. I do touch on stuff that people don’t want to deal with because they think it’s too heavy or sad, but I don’t try to make people upset,” he said. “A good song should be a poem and have some kind of element that you recognize is true, but couldn’t be expressed in a conversation.”
Well, that’s all well and good, but after about a thousand listens, “Naked As We Came” still never fails to make me feel languid and on the verge of tears… beautiful, beautiful, redemptive tears. I understand that for the many fortunate souls who do not occasionally enjoy writstcuttingly depressing music as much as I do, Beam’s first three releases (including 2005′s In the Reins) might have fallen flat. Even so, Beam could have continued down the same path, maintaining the same kind of Nick Drake yearning he was known for.
But then, with The Shepherd’s Dog, Beam displayed an unexpected side of Iron & Wine. The album features diverse sounds and is decidedly more upbeat. From the first track “Pagan Angel and a Borrowed Car,” with a larger instrumental range in the first minute than Beam brought in any of his first three albums, all the way through to “Flightless Bird, American Mouth,” it is an exceptional record. Beam exhibited not only his signature breathy singing talents but his ability to really bend and mesh folk music themes and styles while keeping the album’s coherence and flow in tact. See: “Boy With a Coin,” “Peace Beneath the City,” and “Resurrection Fern.”
Resurrection Fern:
Beam’s Iron & Wine transformation could have ended with The Shepherd’s Dog and it would have been a pretty intriguing and impressive trip. But with Kiss Each Other Clean, just released in late January, he’s taken it a step further away from the days when it was just a man, a guitar and his beard. The album is ambitious, to say the least. Beam utilizes a full band – so full, in fact, that the opening song “Big Burned Hand” sounds almost unrecognizable from any song he’s put out in the past, complete with jazz-y sax and backup vocal echos.
To begin at the end, the album’s last song, “Your Fake Name is Good Enough For Me,” is possibly its most important, and it is nothing short of epic. It starts out bluesy and full with twangy, back and forth rhythms. But somewhere around three minutes in, the horns grow deeper and hushed, and Beam relies primarily on his voice, supported by complimentary-yet-unobtrusive electric guitar and some vocal layering. By minute five the song evolves into a prayer-like chant, with Beam singing in contrasting couplets and repeating “We will become, become” in a trance. This could be creepy, but he pulls it off, swelling the backing instruments as he sings through a list of cliché (“So cruel and kind”), inventive (“Caress and the claw”) and then, by the end, somewhat silly (“Ice cream cone, a disco ball) pairs.
The rest of the album has its ebbs and flows. In experimenting with new sounds, instruments and textures, Beam occasionally loses his knack for intoxicating imagery, á la Our Endless Numbered Days. And, though the great ambition and range of Kiss Each Other Clean is impressive, the final product is not quite as sharp and exceptional as The Shepherd’s Dog. Still, Sam Beam and his new full-band deserve many props, and this album begs the question: Where will the evolution of Iron & Wine go next? It certainly seems like Beam is working towards something compelling, and there are only a handful of bands who have evolved as successfully as Iron & Wine without losing what made them so great in the first place. Give Kiss Each Other Clean at least three listens before you make up your mind. It’s all in the details, and there are a lot of details to explore.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: akron/family, baths, brighton music hall, february shows in boston, gang of four, joe fletcher and the wrong reasons, Kitchen Sessions, laura stevenson and the cans, manners, neko case, streight angular, triumphant return, wavves
Never ending snow in Allston
Dear fine ladies and gentlemen who may occasionally have stumbled upon this blog and noticed the lack of action in the past, well… 2 months (and some weeks),
We now return to our regularly scheduled programming. I will not make excuses for slacking off, but instead just dive back into things and ring in this snowy, slushy, freezing month we call February. It takes some “umpf” to power through Boston’s frozen and wet tundra, and below we will at least try to motivate you off your cozy couch and out into the world. Yes, things still happen during the snowpocalypse. There’s even a stellar new venue in Allston, Brighton Music Hall, which is bringing in some of the most exciting concerts in Boston during the following months. Suck it up, buy some waterproof boots and get out there.
2/3 Neko Case @ the Wilbur Theater
At this point, the good seats at the Wilbur Theater will no doubt be sold out. But Neko Case’s powerhouse of a voice should rattle your bones no matter where you’re sitting. Middle Cyclone was pretty good, but nothing competes with her 2006 album Fox Confessor Brings the Flood. And, if you’re a New Pornographer’s fan but haven’t seen Neko bring it live (because she tends to, ahem, skip out on some concerts these days), you really, really should.
2/4 Wavves @ the Paradise
I am intentionally not listing Best Coast here, though she will be playing with her boooooyfriend. Regardless of their super obnoxious California stoner couple-dome, Wavves’ new album King of the Beach is ridiculously catchy and fun. In these cold-ass times, sitting back, closing your eyes and imagining getting high on a California beach before running into some breaking waves while listening to this album is almost mandatory. Also, know what warms you up in the Boston winter time? Skinny hipster mosh-pits! THAT’S WHAT.
2/5 Joe Fletcher and the Wrong Reasons @ Plough and Stars
Joe Fletcher’s first full length album White Lighter is some damn good Americana folk. He is a spirited dude, and Plough and Stars is just intimate enough for his spirit to become contagious. Below is a video from our friends over at Kitchen Sessions back in October.
2/7 Gang of Four @ the Paradise
THROOOWBACK! I’ve always wanted to see Gang of Four live, despite this being about thirty years too late. Anyway, 1977′s Entertainment! introduced me to post-punk, which is actually pretty abidingly chronological of me. Hearing “Anthrax,” “Natural’s Not in It” or “Damaged Goods” live would be pretty damn sweet.
2/9 Laura Stevenson and the Cans @ Great Scott
Read this excellent and in-depth article about Laura Stevenson from the Phoenix.
2/10 Deerhoof @ The Middle East Downstairs
2/11 The Hood Internet @ Brighton Music Hall
2/14 You Can Be a Wesley, Viva Viva and Drug Rug @ The Middle East Upstairs
2/17 Baths @ Brighton Music Hall
After years of remaining largely obtuse about electronic music, I’ve finally started to understand it’s appeal. Baths is masterminded by 21-year-old Will Weisenfeld, and his LP Cerulean proves that ambient beats can pack a serious punch. Two months of doing the most minimalist kind of dance – dancing-while-sitting-at-a-desk, that is – later, I am pretty psyched for this show.
2/17 Streight Angular @ Church
To be honest, though I’d seen Streight Angular’s name about a thousand times, I never actually listened to them until their recent single “Everyone is Syncopated” showed up on their Bandcamp. This track is pretty great in an impending mosh pit sort of way, and it is officially a mosh pit I’d like to be a part of.
2/18 Akron/Family @ Brighton Music Hall
2/18 MANNERS , Anna Fox and Chris North (of the Points North) @ Gay Gardens
If you haven’t gotten your hands on the Boston Countercultural Compass showlist (available in almost every bike shop, coffee shop, or independently owned anything throughout Jamaica Plain and Allston each month since about this time last year), you’ve probably missed out on some of Boston’s most wonderful offerings: DIY house shows. They come in all shapes and size, from fuzzy, experimental noise in an unfinished basement to cozy, New England living room shows with violins, flutes and drums. This show will likely be more the later, so bring your own beer, sit back Indian style and relax. And find a BCCC flyer, go their website, the Facebook group, or follow them on Twitter. It pays off.
2/19 + 20 Dr. Dog @ the Paradise
2/22 Mighty Tiny and Ketman @ Great Scott
2/24 White Rabbits and Magic Magic @ the Paradise
2/24 The Craters and the Points North @ TT the Bear’s
2/25 Asobi Seksu @ Brighton Music Hall
2/25 Galactic @ the Paradise
Filed under: Emma, Uncategorized | Tags: arcade fire, Dawes, finals, home, Houses, Jens Lekman, Kitchen Sessions, November, Serge Gainsbourg, Squinch Owl, thank yous, thanksgiving, Tom Waits
Our word count has taken quite a beating this month. I blame the onslaught of end-of-semester jitters, a perfect storm of restless legs, colder weather, needs for home and horrid, horrid amounts of work. We begin November still high off the fall magic of October and then plummet into the realization that it’s almost Thanksgiving, and every bit of work put off will be breathing down your neck with dragon-like force quite soon. Stage one: ambition and adderall. Stage two: boredom and burn out. Stage three: Turkey.
Thanksgiving is so rooted in traditions: Family traditions, friendly traditions, traditions misconstrued by false memories and drunk ones. It comes right at that time of year when I consistently reach my breaking point, and suddenly, without fail, everything I am working on or to seems insignificant, and I doubt I’m the only one who feels that way. When I return to the suburbs it usually only takes a few days for boredom to sink in. This time, I was charmed. The place you grew up, whether a small rural town, the city, or somewhere in between is honored during Thanksgiving. I apologize for the cheesiness but maybe that’s part of the charm, too.
So as I write from New Jersey, still seemingly full and sleepy from bird-induced tryptophan almost four days later and dreading the back to Boston commute, I’d like to say thank you. I know it’s a little late, I know everyone does this the day OF Thanksgiving, not after, but suck it.
I’ll say it briefly with words: Thank you to Allston, to Boston, to part-time (possibly stray) cats who kill the mice in my walls (and possibly in my head), to good beer and cheap wine, to crunchy leaves under bike wheels, to fighting the wind, to frozen hands swathed in soft gloves. To future confusion, to long talks, vaporizers and movies.
To the long way home, to the town I grew up in, with more leaves piled high than any other in New Jersey (a lot of this has to do with LEAVES, evidently), to the skyline, to old friends and their parent’s houses, to my parent’s houses, to bagels, to dirty basement irish bars and lost conversations, to wondering where missing people are, to bad jokes and good senses of humor.
Okay, that was less brief than I thought. Might as well have just composed my own version of “La Vie Boheme,” The college kid rendition…
And I’ll say it with music, too.
Poupée de Cire, Poupée de Son – Arcade Fire (Serge Gainsbourg cover)
I’ve been on a slight Serge Gainsbourg kick, starting sometime around 4 AM while writing a philosophy paper and ending… not quite yet. When I downloaded Histoire de Melody Nelson in the throws of hard work, the haunting, creepy yet sublime combination of Gainsbourg’s french whispering (about a car accident between Monsieur Gainsbourg and a young girl named Melody Nelson’s bicycle and the infatuation that ensues… thank you, Lolita), electric guitars and horns in the background got me through the night. This is a cover by Arcade Fire. Not with the same effects as the original, but pretty damn good.
Reds – Houses
Heard them during a yoga class (harhar), was upside down and still wanted to fall into a blissful yet bouncy, floating sleep. I asked the instructor after for the band’s name, and downloaded the entirety of their album All Night. I don’t pretend to know much about electronica or ambient music, but I’m definitely a fan.
I Am Always Coming Home – Squinch Owl
I saw this rag tag group of Western Massers at Kitchen Sessions a few weeks back, and their first EP (which you can download AND SUPPORT THEM at a price of your choosing on their website, linked) has been a staple of my days since. Watch the video put together by the Kitchen Sessions crew here and enjoy some accordion thronged folk, complete with a work saw played with a bow and her remarkable vocals. I am always coming home, indeed.
Your Arms Around Me – Jens Lekman
Sometimes you just need some Jens. ‘Nough said.
That Western Skyline – Dawes
This song is simply beautiful, and lead singer Taylor Goldsmith’s voice is really showcased. It’s pure folk rock, The Band reminiscent harmonics and longing lyrics. I don’t know who this “Lou” he keeps singing to is, but if a friend was sad that their lady left them, I’d like them to whine to me as beautifully as Dawes does.
November – Tom Waits
To keep the voices in my head straight, Tom Waits needs to be listened to heavily about every 3 months. And to end this eclectic mixtape of strange, I give you Captain Eclectic McStrange and awesome, Mr. Waits, sing-yell-speaking about November because, “It only believes in a pile of dead leaves and a moon that’s the color of bone.” Thank you all, and to all, a decent end to the semester, a merry end to the year.
To more frequent writing, to New England winter survival tactics, to not drowning in books! …
And if you are drowning in books, I guarantee a “drowning in books” themed playlist, coming to you in an hour of extreme procrastination and sadness, which I’ll write while trying to get library dust out of my lungs. It’s the least we can do. Stay tuned.
Filed under: Nina, Uncategorized | Tags: belle & sebastian, bjork, dark dark dark, grizzly bear, oh land, perks of being a wallflower, seabear, sufjan stevens, winter
It's easier if you have a bear friend. (Photo by Rebekka Guðleifsdóttir)
New England winters always do a number on me. It settles in with the first chills of November and I’ll spare the sordid details, so let’s talk about tastes. Cravings spark for hot cinnamon caramelized everything, mulled wine, spiked cider, thick soup, and as with most other things on this blog, it translates to a matter of music. This is growing affection for thin ephemeral sounds that crackle like snow-caked power wires, whisper like clouds of breath forming in thin air, ebb slow like honey on its way to hot coffee, like blood in need of a good thaw. In the past, these icy months have spurred all sorts of unpredictable symptoms, including a short-lived Joanna Newsom obsession and many nights lying immobile under the power of In Rainbows. For better or for worse, it’s been interesting.
The winter mixtape has been a treasured tradition of mine, ever since stumbling upon and being thoroughly moved by the “One Winter” mixtape from The Perks of Being a Wallflower. (Though the book should be kept undisturbed in a time capsule with other 14 year old gems such as the irrational emotional breakdown and the oversize Nirvana hoodie, “One Winter” has stood the test of time.) When it’s not raining outside still shows the last of precious autumn – daytime is still ripe with picturesque collegiate dream scenes, scarves and falling leaves. But daytime ends at five now, Christmas lights are on sale and you’ve broken down and turned on the furnace at least once already. It’s all in the name of being prepared, right? So while you’re saran wrapping your windows and furnishing your hibernaculum, I’ll throw some tunes your way.
Oh Land – White Nights (see also: “Wolf & I”)
This Danish ex-ballerina makes twitchy shimmery music that sounds like delightfully delirious insomnia, glitchy music boxes, dream pop with a dance beat. She wants to make music “that sounds like it’s from 2050 but still feels really classic.”
Seabear – Libraries (see also: “I Sing I Swim”)
So this one time I lived in the library and never came out except for PB&Js and the occasional fire alarm. By “this one time” I mean November and December. Thanks, college. This lovely soft Icelandic murmuring sounds like the blessed moment when you fold your notebooks up, rub your eyes, and make your way back home. “Next time I wake up / I want it to be / in a rabbit hole / to the sound of you making coffee.”
Belle & Sebastian – Little Lou, Ugly Jack, Prophet John (see also: “Boy With the Arab Strap,” “Calculating Bimbo,” everything)
Norah Jones makes an unexpected appearance on this lovely track off Belle & Sebastian’s latest, Write About Love, and the duet is simultaneously peaceful and heartbreaking. Sounds like lit candles, lonely soup, watching flurries settle down under streetlights, missing summer and the loves that come with it. “Travel south until your skin turns, woman / Travel south until your skin turns brown / Put a language in your head and get on a train / and then come back to the one you love.”
Bjork – Hidden Place (see also: “Coccoon,” “It’s Not Up to You”, all of Vespertine)
People make fun of Bjork an awful lot, and those people are wrong. She might sometimes seem like she’s not quite made for this world, but in music that’s a good thing. Her influence can be felt in St. Vincent to the Dirty Projectors, not to mention a ton of electronic and ambient music. Vespertine is unpredictable – icy and alien, sparking with desire, harboring hidden textures and intimate shimmers. It’s so wintry that cracking ice and snow being walked on are actually used in some songs. According to Bjork, “It sounds like a winter record. If you wake up in the middle of the night and you go out in the garden, everything’s going out there that you wouldn’t know about…I was collecting together all the noises that I know that are like hibernating and that sound like the inside of your head.” Let it grow on you.
Dark, Dark, Dark – Daydreaming (see also: “Celebrate,” “Wild Go”)
Nona Marie Invie’s voice is haunting. I’ve had the good fortune to see Dark Dark Dark in intimate spaces and each time I’ve been moved by its honest emotion, fragile clarity, transcendent way of reaching deep into your soul, sounding like it came from somewhere so deep in the world it’s still prone to magic. Dark Dark Dark is from Minneapolis, but they’re really from the road, and their music has a timeless troubadorial quality. Lonely winds, epic journeys, and wild horizons are as present in their harmonies as the banjo, the accordion, and the viola. These songs tell tales of a world that’s often alienating and apocalyptic, but they come to you with warmth.
Sufjan Stevens – Vesuvius (see also: “Too Much,” “Impossible Soul”)
Age of Adz is so so so good. It takes the melodic appeal of Illinoise and Say Yes! to Michigan and combines it with the electronic experimentation of Enjoy Your Rabbit to make something epic. I’ll save the gushing for another post, but here’s a song that builds slowly into a chant, a prayer, a reason to get out of bed when it’s freezing and inexplicable things are clawing inside you. The glitching screeching mechanistic choral climax dissolves to a simple question – “why does it have to be so hard?” Why indeed.
Grizzly Bear – Foreground (“Colorado” is also something I’ve woken up during)
Today I fell asleep facedown in a pile of clothes and notebooks halfway through a Czech documentary narrated by a man with a startling gap in his front teeth. It was only 7 but it had already been dark for over two hours, I had been some degree of awake for about two days and the world was dark and wet and stressful. When I woke up, this song was playing, pretty and reassuring. I have to admit I haven’t made it all the way through Veckatimest since the first time I heard it because Grizzly Bear is a band I’ve trained myself to fall asleep to on long bus rides and I’m always out cold by the third song. Anyway, this. Warm, cozy, redemptive. Because sometimes you just have to sleep the day away. It’s okay, bears do it all the time.
Filed under: Emma, Nina, Uncategorized | Tags: autotune the news, boston counter cultural compass, Dawes, land of talk, mighty tiny, november shows in boston, peelander-z, sanity song, slim cessna's auto club, the joy formidable, upcoming concerts in boston, wadzilla mansion
Nov. 11 – Pretty and Nice, Oranjuly, Spirit Kid, Hot Protestants @ Mid East Upstairs
Nov. 18 – Brown Bird @ Audrey’s Loft?
Nov. 20 – Delorean @ Mid East Down
Also – not featured here: If you have not begun following along with the Boston Counter Cultural Compass, find it here and look out for all the underground goodness that is sometimes hard-to-find out about in this fair city compiled in one (or two) easy-to-read sheets.
Filed under: Emma, New Music, Uncategorized | Tags: csc funk band, drug rug, homegrown II, jeff the brotherhood, nashville, the temple, truman peyote
Homegrown II was a well oiled machine: There was genre variety, there were rapid fire sets, there were even really cool hand stamps. We did not end up at the Temple all day, everyday, all weekend like some troopers out there surely did, but our Saturday night experience started out funky with Brooklyn’s CSC Funk Band. We washed down all those horns with Drug Rug‘s tranquilizing grungy yet spaced out tunes and then got a nice dose of psychedelia courtesy of Truman Peyote.
The Temple was set up with two stages, and while the “stage stage” was being tripped out with lights and wayward sounds, little did we know JEFF the Brotherhood was getting ready to amp our brains out from the “floor stage.” Just as we sat down on the nice leather couch at the back of the room, the brothers of the Brotherhood started making the wood floor shake… and that wood floor, for future reference, has just the right amount of slip to it for badass guitarists to knee-slide. The Nashville-raised Orrall brothers were billed as futuristic classic rock which I admittedly scowled out until they melted my face off 20 minutes later. The Temple gets hot when people actually dance, and dance we fucking did. (For me, that meant kicking like Molly Ringwald in the part of The Breakfast Club where they all break it down in the library, boots and all).
Point is, listen to JEFF the Brotherhood (blog link) if you like that old school riff rock sound with new school flare. They’ve got some punk to them, with a garage rock backdrop and a little blues thrown in. Plus, the dudes dress like its 1975, and Jake, the guitarist, even has the haircut to match. They’ve been around since 2002 but are starting to grab a larger audience with their sixth album Heavy Days, as they should.
Oh, and their drumset says JEFFRO TULL. Awesome.
Enjoy.
