When I think of Delaware, I think of a beautifully manicured college campus in the northeast somewhere, complete with ivy-coated brick buildings, pretentious coffee shops and an easy going, all be it progressive, student population. For all I know, the entire state is like a sprawling, commonwealth version of Williams.
A ridiculous day dream I know, but the endearing charm of The First State’s own Spinto Band, who come to Garfield Artworks this Saturday along with Generationals and Pepi Ginsberg, has me recalling the most romantic days of my undergraduate experience. With Their latest release Slim and Slender, a four song EP out this past October, the Spintos continue their staggeringly consistent streak of three flexible indie pop releases over the past three years. On Slim and Slender, the group practically radiates the amber aura of a magic hour bon fire with three kegs to kick. Keep reading →
David Adamson, the man/ beat boy/freak folk/ hazed-out shaman behind Asthmatic Kitty’s Jookabox knows something about drums and bass. His reckless, primordial rhythms perforate the negative spaces of his music like steady cacophonies of jack hammers working simultaneously on parallel city streets.
Separately, the isolated layers of percussion may only appear to be dumb, blunt objects, but as Adamson’s compositions begin to coalesce (first beat, then song, then album) Jookabox’s unique mash-up of gypsy folk frenzy and hip-hop kick drums careen beautifully out of control.
With Dead Zone Boys, the group’s second full-length out November 3rd, Jookabox merge their kitchen sink aesthetic with nightmarish imagery and atmosphere, providing what is basically the musical equivalent of Raising Arizona and Night of the Living Dead having a baby: a manic, gleefully insane journey through a warped vision of America that sees the living and undead alike desperately groping at some kind of hedonistic pleasure. From song to song, it’s an album prone to outbursts of both half-crazed laughter and sinister threats, happily aware of its own emotional/motivational imbalances. Keep reading →
Last July’s Yeasayer concert at Mr. Small’s proved to be quite the telling experience. Half the set was new material that steered away from the world music and shaman-chanting influences that was the band’s trademark since 2007’s All Hour Cymbals. But while the new material focused on a heavy, electronic production (including new interpretations of “2080″, “Sunrise,” and “Waiting For the Summer”), Yeasayer’s M.O. for composition and song structure, as well as the group’s free spirit vibe, remained essentially the same.
Which brings us to “Ambling Alp,” a song I definitely remember from that fateful Mr. Small’s show. The first single from their forthcoming Odd Blood (out February 19th), the track is to be released as a 12” single by Secretly Canadian on November 3.
The song initially begins with an auspicious, ambient prelude before morphing into a cacophony of 80’s synthesizers, layered percussion, and chirping vocal loops appearing sporadically through out the mix. A motivational chorus chimes in with lead singer Chris Keating confidently relating some nuggets of wisdom: “You must speak up for yourself son! Nevermind what anybody else does.”
Talk about fanning the flames of anticipation. One track in and Odd Blood is already shooting for the moon.
Yeah, I’m a novice. Nicole Atkins is one of those dark, smoldering ingenues who converts humans into disciples with no more than a fiery glance. During her live shows these humans, guys and gals alike, swoon in measured droves, pray for their favorite songs and stand mystified, religiously mystified, as Ms. Atkins seduces the stage.
Along with her faithful backing band, The Black Sea, Atkins played a full room at the South Side’s Club Cafe Tuesday evening as the concert spot’s smokey corners and starry backdrop played a perfect supporting character (with the exception of a blown out monitor) to the bombastic qualities of Atkins best work (the street anthems, symphonies, and Patsy Cline homages alike) that were allowed to howl unmitigated into the rainy Pittsburgh evening. Keep reading →
For the first 7.5 seconds of Major Lazer’s video for the dancehall-dub by way of Billboard Hot 100 fever dream that is “Keep it Goin’ Louder,” off this year’s Guns Don’t Kill People, Lazers Do, all seems to be up to code with the Hip-hop Club Scene Video Cliche Mandate/Doctrine of 2004(that’s on the books, believe me), a bill that was authored and vehmently championed by the distinguished gentleman from New York, Cam’ron.
Ten seconds into the video, however, is a completely different story. That story is one filled with human hybrid cartoon zombies and evil, gravity-defying cartoon blowfish dancing, nay REVELING, with their normal hip hop club counterparts as Switch, Diplo and the crooning, auto-tuned, double trouble combo of Ricky Blaze and Nina Sky slowly melt minds.
This unholy (yet ridiculously stupid awesome) dance scene reaches a frenzy pitch just as Major Lazer himself saves the day and eviscerates all the cartoon zombie-dancehall human hybrids with his towering speakers of kalidescopic light and general bad-assery.
That description (which I’m surprised I could even write) doesn’t come close to the real thing. Guns Don’t Kill People is my favorite party album of the year for a reason.
I’ve always suffer from a hazy splash of deja vu when I listen to Lohio. Unfortunately, my initial response when listening to new music is fairly academic. I unconsciously begin to pick apart influences, arrangements, compositional elements and production touches when, before long, I missed any emotional resonance the song had to offer. I have never done that listening to Lohio.
I’m not saying they make dumb pop songs or pretentious pieces of shit that try too damn hard to do whatever it is they’re doing, I just can’t seem to ignore the emotional, nostalgic qualities of a song like “Sea and the Sun” off last years History, the Destroyer. Lohio crafts their music with a foggy warmth that avoids sentimentality, recalling the pleasures of AM radio pop and country with a sincerity that isn’t easily replicated or ignored. Basically, Lohio make you care. Keep reading →
It’s a bit of a slow news week here in musicburgh. Few national touring acts from now until the new year will warrant my attention. I have at least four local releases from the last three months that I plan on reviewing, yet haven’t. And honestly, I think I’m getting a touch of the fat pig cold.
While these factors would seem detrimental to the ongoing content of speed of the pittsburgh sound, they allow me to talk for a moment about a non-Pittsburgher of a musician who I can’t seem to get enough of. South Carolina resident Earnest Greene, otherwise known as chillwave bedroom composer Washed Out who is fresh off only the second performance of his young career, has produced what is essentially the coolest vacation post card ever created. The video for “Feel it All Around” documents what appears to be a whimsical Carribean day dream, complete with snorkeling, shots of Patron and lazy river shenanigans.
The lingering shot of a young, bikini clad woman floating idly in the foreground of a sunset was simply too much for my 23 year old mind to comprehend. Fly to close to the sun and you get burned, I guess. Damn my eyes. I’ll be wearing flip flops till there’s a foot of white on the ground without a second thought.
If there ever was a group that could embrace the carnival menace of the Halloween season, Pittsburgh’s own Black Moth Super Rainbow is it. Marshmallow Ghosts is a collaboration between BMSR and Graveface labelmates The Appleseed Cast, Dreamend, and Casket Girls, who conjured up the 7″ single “Shrieks” to be released on October 20th.
The project represents what is basically Graveface Records’ house band. “Shrieks” casually injects some macabre wonder into air via tumbling organs, horror movie samples, and marching drums that invoke the House of Usher in all its dilapidated glory. It’s a goofy one-off, for sure, but a total delight in the same measure.
I spoke recently of how singer-songwriter Jane Herships easily crystallized that emotional transition of the fall season as one looks toward the winter ahead. Marshmallow Ghosts, however, take a snapshot of the eerie October nights, haunted houses, graveyards and Vincent Price kitsch that permeate the best kind of Halloween spirit. It’s not especially sinister, just delightfully camp in an exceedingly creepy way.
I think we can all appreciate that our Halloween rests in the hands of seasoned experts.
As October creeps into my consciousness and the days get shorter, I find myself in a massive transitional period. October is a heavy month, maybe the heaviest. Weighted down by the unfamiliar cold, abrupt fits of loneliness and the general mass of my life accumulating before year’s end, I unknowingly wait for something in the darkness to embrace me.
Listening to Spider’s (Jane Herships) “Remember That Time You Told Me You Loved Me, But Didn’t?” lead single off her latest release Things We Like to Hold, I can’t help but recast October as an ally.
The production is sparse but cavernous. A hauntingly simple, bluesy guitar line and more percussion echo than a Martin Hannett production induces a vaguely nostalgic trance, sparking the flicker of toothy smiles in the darkness. “And I will follow you,” Hership confides, “yes, I will follow you.”
In my head, I take off into a frosted wood and search for a place to haunt. I stumbled through the leaves as my feet slowly grow roots. My skin hardens into pale bark. My armor is up for the coming cold and I am happy. Once I walked into October, with a gracefully black arachnid in tow, the year can now begin to end.
Upstart Pittsburgh indie dance swingers Big Hurry plan to release their first EP Silver Screens this Saturday at the Brillobox along with local rock stalwarts Landline and Casino Bulldogs. I’ll monitor my hyperbole for the rest of the article, but I can’t help mentioning I’ve been waiting for new tracks from Kelly Tobias and co. since their live show way back in February.
And with “Paper Trails” Big Hurry may have released their most accomplished production yet. The track showcases a tumbling, slow motion percussion section, cascading guitars and Tobias’ trademark croon flooding in from various angles. Similar to “Tell Me” from the group’s Myspace page, “Paper Trails”‘ tempo is set in a lower gear, a bouncy throb climbing toward a heavy conclusion. Lust and intrigue, as usual, are present and smoldering, but the atmosphere is sagacious rather than sinister, with the chorus soaring into the stratosphere.
I think a casual observer of speed of the pittsburghsound could argue that Big Hurry gets a fair amount of ink and I won’t deny it. I often trumpet the importance of witnessing local bands settle into their blatant musical talents and Big Hurry are doing just that with grace and potency. Can’t wait to hear the rest of the EP. And as for you Pittsburgh, start paying attention.
