Untied States (“un-tied” states) is the musical creation of two childhood friends from Atlanta, GA.  Colin Arnstein and Skip Engelbrecht dropped their first release, Bird of the Blood Feather, as a duo in 2003.   That EP was followed up by the two full-lengths, Ineffable, by Design (2004) and Retail Detail (2006).  Although all three of them were self-recorded/self-released efforts, the latter two found the duo collaborating with a plethora of rotating additional musicians.  The group spun through various incarnations for their live performances until connecting with Darren Tablan in 2001.  With Tablan operating as an engineer/keyboardist/sound-sample manipulator, US released the 7″, Bye Bye Bi-Polar (b/w These Dead Birds) and was subsequently signed to Distille records.  With the addition of drummer Satchell Mallon, Untied States has now released their first large studio recording, Instant Everything, Constant Nothing.

I hadn’t heard the group’s previous releases and I nearly didn’t hear this new one, either.  I had already received an email about the band from Distile, but I paid it little mind.  We receive so many emails these days that I can’t focus on them all and most have little to no connection to anything that we would even be slightly interested in dealing with.  I think that I had even given a quick listen to an album link for IECN but, for whatever reason, I wasn’t immediately impressed and instantly went back to what I was doing.  Maybe I’m just like a toddler and need pictures to get my attention because, after receiving the following video of the guys performing live for the WRAS | indieATL music series, they had captured my full attention.

Click here to view the embedded video.

These cats look disheveled and rough.   At first, it almost appears like they are wrecked-out drunk and don’t really know what they’re doing or how to play their instruments.  Arnstein looks hobbled at best and Mallon’s drumming, somehow comes across as both forced and apathetic.  The crazy thing about this video, as I’m sure that you will notice the more that you view it, is that the sound reflects a very capable and aware combo with some complex, intricate compositions.   They know exactly what they’re doing; aware of every minor bleep, screech and noise and recognizing it’s role in each individual segment.  It’s not quite “Prog“… it’s… um… I’m not quite sure what it is, exactly.  Then again, I’m not quite sure what it’s not either.  The first press release that I received from Distile labeled the group as “Art Rock“.  However, the one-sheet that they sent me with the CD identifies them as “Indie“/”Rock“/”Post-Punk“.  Their Myspace also states that they play “Post-Punk” but adds “Gospel” and “Grime” into their repertoire of defining sounds.  The Untied States Facebook fanpage claims that their music is “Baroque“.  Who knows which of the endless possible terms each individual reviewer or magazine are using?  I’m sure that Rush Limbaugh would probably just identify them as “COMMIES!”   They ARE signed to an independent French label and their name DOES imply a dismantling of our democratic nation.  Then again, I believe that it may actually imply something completely different.  Whatever it is and whatever they are, I’m pretty sure that I really like these guys.

Instant Everything, Constant Nothing is a terribly shitty name for an album.   It sounds like the title of some contrived middle-school spoken-word emo poetry.   It could have easily been used to title a Better Than Ezra LP or a song from Sixteen Stone; something from the Marcy Playground era.  Yeah, it’s true that it’s a terrible name for just about any album.  That is, any album other than this one.  Honestly, I can’t think anything more appropriate for this LP, because, while so many others have taken and slapped corny ass titles on their work for dramatic effect, Untied States has a much simpler intention with their work.  The term Instant Everything, Constant Nothing actually fits perfectly and, after mentally challenging them to support it’s lofty implications, the only conclusion that you’ll inevitably come away with is, “Oh, that wasn’t supposed to be anything other than honesty. I get it.  It just makes sense.  Sorry, to have bothered you. Carry on.”

The band name itself seems like a simple play on words that anyone can enjoy.  “Oh I see, they switched the ‘T’ and the ‘I’ around.  Wonderfully clever.  So instead of being ‘united’ it’s more like the opposite.  Splendid, splendid.  What clever chaps.“  However, I even see that as having a deeper yet simpler meaning to it, which reflects the musical approach of the group, itself.   At first hearing their name, I had a vision of a slowly separating land mass but, after fully listening to the album, I recognized that the “STATES” in their moniker better represented states of being, or consciousness.  Mental states, states of disrepair… state of the art.  Even elemental states; sometimes solid and heavy, other times gaseous and ethereal, at moments melting and fluid.  Untied and distinct as they may be at times, the strength of the Altanta noise wranglers lies in their ability to transition effortlessly between these separate elements and connect them.  At least that is the most undeniable of their strengths.  A bag of bricks smash a clawfoot tub, the standing water rots the floor boards, a bookshelf falls over and catches fire by the heater, alarms go off, there’s some wood crackling, sprinklers activate, there’s some dark smoke, there’s some lighter smoke, some blinking lights shine through each, there’s steam, it’s warm, there’s some poisonous chemical backdraft, some hickory vapor, condensation on the windows, a cool breeze of fresh air blows through the collapsed hole in the wall, there’s a view of a mountain, the smoke dissipates/morphs into the clouds.  It’s like a life-size game of mousetrap, where each result makes perfect sense, with not-quite immediate retrospect, yet they’re always drastic enough to alter the entire dynamic.

The lead off track, “Gorilla The Bull” builds up from an ambient drone until it’s spewing out fragments and heavy chunks like a wood chipper.  It’s easy to use the term “driving“, but the song also utilizes a start-stop-start approach; at moments stalling out in neutral, zipping into reverse, popping the clutch, and then lurching forward again.  Next is the frenzied psychedelic whirlpool of “Not Fences, Mere Mask” (featured in the video above).  “Unsilvered Mirrors” is the first time that the Radiohead and, more specifically, OK Computer similarities really begin to present themselves.  Arnstein’s vocals airily waft in and are buoyed on the deliberate, rust-tinged chords of a haunted organ.  A climbing beat enters in and then quickly ricochets off like a loose sprocket.  The vocals and music grow like rising steam, there’s a quick 8bit-style Megaman/Metroid/Castlevania moment and then the beat winds itself into a knot and quickly unfurls.  Shit is beginning to get weird.  This band likes to set trap doors and drop the bottom out of their songs but, although the descensions may be swift at first, the fall is often cushioned like a stuntman through a series of apartment and marketplace awnings.  Untied States yank the table cloth out like a parlor trick and, if they feel so inclined, they may even still choose to shove the table over, crashing the dishes to the floor regardless.  “Unsilvered Mirrors” ends with a static bug-zapping feedback that bleeds into the next track, “Grey Tangerines“.   A heavy thump is introduced and then more and more ingredients are dumped out and mixed into the thick batter.  Some raisins, walnuts, a broken chair, battery acid… At points, the twinkle of broken electronic toys seeps through.  Other times it’s laser beams or the pulsating sound of what strobe lights look like.

“These Dead Birds” continues with a Radiohead-heavy sound.  To borrow from it’s title, I would liken the buildup and subsequent shift to hand-cranking a dead bird up a tree, notch by notch on a pulley system, only to let it float and glide back down to Earth, with sunlight peaking through the leaves to the twinkling of a music box.  The friendly little sailboat odyssey eventually shorts out, tumbles over a gloomy cliff, and gets frozen mid-air by the tractor beam of a UFO.  US then summons up the drowning, muffled yell of the chorus, which risks being too “Screamo” for my taste, but the track fizzles out admirably with a 30 second outro that includes the slipping thump of a heartbeat.  “Take Time For Always” starts with a 30 second intro of more spooky haunted piano chords until it kicks into the full-on horror circus chaos of a Mr. Bungle track.  It sounds like a demolition derby where everyone is driving Steinways and simmers out at the halfway point with choppy piano keys layered over the crank of ratchets.   The anxiety ascends again, but exits with the aquatic clicks and knocks of of an Atlantean cobbler.  “Bye Bye Bi-Polar” instantly revisits flashes of Radiohead during the buildup of it’s1 minute, 30 second intro.  Ahhs and the sound of a circut-bent Furbee getting it’s teeth drilled are abruptly smoothed out into a brief moment of somber Nirvana, which then shifts to a quick glimpse of unwieldy screams, and back.  This song is all over the fucking place.  “Wrestling With Entropy in the Rehab Factory” couples melodic verses with trashy drums and the subtle screeching tension of steel cable.  Its a pressure cooker of steam, hissing through rivets and popping the top off it’s container like a novelty can of peanut brittle.

It’s difficult not to notice a bit of Thom Yorke in Arnstein’s voice throughout the next track either, but “Delusions Are Grander” also displays glimpses of Experimental Jet Set Sonic Youth and the screech of Kurt Cobain, as well. “Holding up Walls” mixes a pretty straightforward pop-rock, Elliott Smith circa-Heatmiser sound with deconstructed noise and background effects. As the title implies, the bass-line groove and melody in the vocals are fighting to remain upright against the swarm of chaos and glitched-out electronic squawks that threaten to chop them down and derail them. The track ends, buzzing into the heavy warping blur known as “Kowtow The Equalizer” before concluding the entire album.

I’ve gone back and forth about my feelings for Instant Everything, Constant Nothing.  In fact, my feelings change almost as much as the tracks themselves.  Sometimes, I see the music like a triumph of deconstruction.  At other times, it feels like I’m hearing a pretty straightforward and simple rock album.  One moment I can be unimpressed and wonder what happened to the elements that I thought had excited me so much before and then, the next thing I know, I find myself wishing that I was actually in the group, or one exactly like it.  The crazy part is that these conflicting outlooks can shift suddenly and, sometimes even multiple times within the same track.  Some moments its like these guys have no idea what they’re doing and then, in others, it’s clear that it was all by design and that they knew exactly what they were doing the entire time.  Sometimes the amazing bits feel like they were accomplished by complete accident.  Still, they’re sound feels natural and true to who they are as musicians and individuals.  During one listen, I got the impression that, if they were “trying” to do anything at all it was to make a pop album, but that the result of those efforts was that they had failed miserably and came up with something a hell of a lot more interesting.  As if they didn’t know any better and were doomed to inevitably create something more amazing by default.  At their best, Untied States sound like a group of special ed students are peaking on LSD, while they’re driving around in suped-up Power Wheels, and smashing shit up in a factory warehouse with cricket bats.  Their interpretations of sound are crisp and focused, but they are directed in a manner unique enough to demand attention.  Two things that this album is not are boring and unimaginative.  By recognizing the value of their one-of-a-kind structural perspectives, US offers the listener an opportunity to re-examine and question the way that they, themselves, may interpret and understand sound.

One of the major risks that the band takes is handing everything over at face value and letting the listener attempt to pull the pieces apart or figure out what’s going on for themselves.  Whether through sheer ignorance or complete apathy, the musicians have no fear about the preconceived notions or connections to any outside influence that each listener might bring with them.  Maybe they sound a little like Radiohead at times. Actually, they sound a lot like Radiohead at times, but I really don’t think that they are too concerned with that. I’m sure that they are aware of the similarities and, even they weren’t at first, they’ve heard it plenty by now.  Still, I don’t believe that they are “trying” to sound like anyone.  What may be even more commendable about the group is that I don’t think that they are “trying” not to sound like anyone else either.   Most people have a “guilty pleasure” or something that they really enjoy, but may hide it for fear of being berated by the opinions of others.  US provides a mixed bag of influences from everywhere; some that I admire and some that I’m not really that into, but they openly spill everything out on the table without apology.  With all of the comparisons that could be drawn, they manage to maintain a distinct sound and avoid the pitfalls of becoming derivative.  The current quote on their Facebook page reads, “Tomorrow’s cliches today” and, In all honesty, I don’t believe that US gives a fuck what I think.  I’m not even convinced that they are concerned with reviews at all.  It’s as easy to over listen to this album as it is to under listen to it. If you don’t pay attention, the subtle intricacies can just slip by. If you stare too hard, it’s easy to focus on other less important aspects too much.  If IECN is playing long enough, however, something is inevitably bound to force a double take, snap your neck, and make your ears perk up.  It’s like a magic eye photo where, with a soft focus, the clear outline and added dimensions can pronounce themselves on their own.  The image pops out in an instant and can evaporate again just as easily.  It’s ike raising an X-Wing out of a Dagobah swamp. “Do or do not, there is no try.“  Regardless of your feelings about their results, Untied States simply “DO” and that is what I respect the most about them.  No matter how many times I hear the music differently, or how many ways my opinions about it might shift, I believe that my feelings about the people who are creating it will always remain the same.  What matters the most to me with anything that I review is the intention, integrity, soul, and honesty behind it.  That being said, I haven’t the slightest apprehension about providing Untied States and their latest album with my stamp of “LEGIT!“  The point is that these guys are extremely good at what they do and anything beyond that is just a lesser matter of personal taste.

Chilly Gonzales “Piano Talk”

Feb. 11, 2010

Joe’s Pub, NYC

Once upon a time in a far away land known as Quebec, a young musician would be told the “worst four words of [his] life”:

“You Are A Genius.”

Chilly Gonzales descends upon the piano and sings the words in every possible octave and key in an effort to drive their impact further home.  The artist formerly known as Jason Beck was dubbed a child prodigy early on, clearly a major influence on his current onstage persona: think precocious wunderkind-meets jazzy hipster lounge act.  I like to imagine this particular combo is the direct result of what happens when you condemn a gifted child to a nightly gig as cocktail party entertainment.

Much of the Canadian-born Chilly’s schtick involves the irony of balancing such sophisticated skills with somewhat of an off-beat, comic style.  His look is especially in-keeping with this idea, mussed hair and five o’clock shadow perfectly offsetting the otherwise too-formal satin smoking jacket and white gloves.  Although an accomplished classical pianist (trained at Montreal’s renowned McGill University), Chilly’s shows tend to give off more of a casual, ‘Don’t Tell Mama for the Skinny Jeans Set’ type of vibe, rather than that of a night at the symphony.  Ed Droste of Grizzly Bear is seated in my section, as if to further validate the indie cred of the man in question.  In previous incarnations,  Chilly has put out records as both a rock (e.g. Thriller with Son, etc) and hip-hop artist ( Gonzales Über Alles, etc), not to mention as a classical musician, through which he developed his most successful album to date: the stripped-down piano project aptly entitled, Solo Piano.  The self-described “Jewish Supervillain MC” went on to write and produce material for modern acts (notably, artists Feist and Peaches) and has, most recently, announced the creation of the first ever “piano mixtape,” Painist Envy, on which he re-envisions the work of Top 40 heavyweights, like Kelly Clarkson and 50 Cent.

Cut back to tonight’s venue, Joe’s Pub, where the drink I just ordered costs more than the price of admission and this “Supervillain MC” prepares to hone his burlesque-era comedy chops in front of a room full of Williamsburg transplants.  As the night wears on, Gonzales proceeds to employ every age-old cabaret and vaudevillian technique in the book as a means to try and illicit reactions from the almost too-cool-for-school crowd.  His efforts include (but aren’t limited to) singing, whistling, rhyming, rapping, punning, and telling jokes.  All the while, “The Entertainist” mantains an easy back-and-forth between himself and the audience, adding to the VH1 Storytellers-like mood of the evening.

Chilly manages to stay true to his relaxed, campy approach without missing a chance to show off his musical prowess, breadth of knowledge, or wit.  One particular anecdote from the pianist’s childhood involves his grandfather discouraging the young virtuoso from playing jazz and rock (“He called it Devil Music“), offering up Wagner as a superior alternative.  The punchline involves the subtle way in which Grandpa could seamlessly incorporate both racism and anti-semitism into the same lesson.  Chilly punctuates this bit with a raucous, ragtime version of “The Ride of the Valkyries” and then revels in the laughter and applause from a crowd who appear far too pleased with themselves to have gotten every single reference.

Because no cabaret/variety show worth its salt would be complete without a guest performer, the Canadian ivory assailant has been inviting a different artist onstage with him each week throughout his month-long stint at Joe’s Pub.  Tonight’s is the ever genre-defying cult-rock superstar, Andrew W.K. Sharing Chilly’s irreverent comedic sensibilities when it comes to showmanship, Andrew even dons matching white gloves tonight, along with his signature white t-shirt/white jeans getup.  While he’s most widely known for making loud, driving, punk-infused hits like “She is Beautiful” and “Party Hard“, W.K. now expresses a softer side, belting out a heartfelt rendition of the Leon Russell classic, “A Song For You,” alongside his host.  This is, perhaps, a possible nod to the latest release by Andrew W.K.,  55 Cadillac (a collection of slow, sincere piano ballads).  The two performers have a natural rapport, joking between songs about competing in piano battles together and play-arguing over which one of them is “really” headlining.

After the show’s “official” end, the duo is coaxed back onstage to perform an encore, arguably the high point of the evening.  Chilly emerges tuning a guitar and proceeds to do a sarcastic routine about how disrespectful it is for musicians to spend time tuning onstage.  By the end of the bit, the guitar has been smashed to pieces and, without ever playing a single melody on its strings, Gonzales has returned to the piano.  He continues with a rocking rendition of The Eagles‘, “Hotel California“; one that, daresay, rivals the explosive interpretation made popular by Gipsy Kings.  Then, riding the wave of momentum, the two bust out with a rousing version of W.K.’s “I Get Wet“, moving the once “too-cool” audience to their feet in boisterous applause.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Catch Chilly and friends at Joe’s Pub
on the remaining Thursdays in February

Thurs. Feb. 18th featuring DJ A-Trak
Thurs. Feb. 25th featuring Princess Supastar

The first & last photos above, were graciously provided by
anthoNYC from Taste Like Caramel.

Go check out their coverage
and point your face and eyes towards their more extensive photo-set: CLICK HERE.

Download  the “Pianist Envy” Mixtape for free HERE
Here’s a sample remix of “Many Men” by 50 Cent

Earlier this month I began hearing the name “Garage A Trois” thrown around again, which is a band that I wasn’t sure was even still in existence.  The original lineup was comprised of Charlie Hunter (8-string guitar), Skerik (Sax), and Stanton Moore (drums) and was spawned from the recording sessions for Stanton’s first solo effort, All Kooked Out (1998).  During the sessions, Skerik and Hunter, who were featured on the release, ended up recorded a enough extra material with Moore to release a completely separate EP as a trio.  The material, mostly improvised freak-out jazz, was recorded live without overdubs and eventually became the album Mysteryfunk.  In April of ‘98, the trio performed as “Moore and More” for the All Kooked Out record release party in New Orleans, but the group didn’t enter my radar until another New Orleans performance 2 years later.  That show featured GAT being slightly overshadowed as the opening act for the debut performance by another “super group”, Oysterhead (Trey Anastasio/Les Claypool/Stuart Copeland).

Since their inception, the group has gone through a few changes and, with the eclectic and always collaborative band members, it’s often been difficult to even discern what constitutes the use of one band moniker from another.  In 2007, Charlie Hunter decided that, with his family responsibilities and touring, he was spreading himself too thin and could only focus on his main project, The Charlie Hunter Trio.  He took his 8-string guitar with him and, after trying out various temporary members, the remaining members unanimously decided on Marco Benevento’s organ and electronic sounds to fill the huge  gap that had been left.  The last, and first, time that I saw GAT was in 2003, during their tour to promote their sophomore release, Emphasizer.  By that point they had added Mike Dillon on vibraphone/percussion, already making the “TROIS” element in their title obsolete.  They were a tight unit with matching jumpsuits and video effects.  That same year, I was introduced to Benevento/Russo Duo through a performance at Seattle’s Bumbershoot festival, in which they brought Skerik out to perform with them.  About 7 years prior, I caught Skerik performing with his outfit Critters Buggin on that exact same stage.  In 2008, Mike Dillon also became an official member of the Critters Buggin crew.  In addition to these acts, Skerik and Dillon perform together as part of Les Claypool’s Flying Frog Brigade and Fancy Band projects, as well as in The Dead Kenny Gs, who’s logo was created by Claypool.  The DG’s, whom Benevento has joined on stage, is a trio made up of Dillon, Skerik, and a rotating third member.  For a while, the spot was filled by Brian Haas of Jacob Fred Jazz Odyssey, but is currently being manned by Brad Houser from Critters Buggin.  This essentially makes the group a “Critters Buggin Trio“, a name under which they have also performed.  The Marco Benevento Trio, in fact, was made up of former-Jacob Fred member Reed Mathis and Critter’s Buggin drummer, Matt Chamberlain.  Confused yet?  You should be…. and I’ve given you the super stripped down version, without even mentioning Crack Sabbath, The Taint Septet, Coxygen, Tuatara, Go Go Jungle, Robert Walters, or any of the other endless twisted associations between the individual musicians.  I’m just going to assume that, if Stanton Moore is involved, then it’s “technically” a Garage A Trois event.  That and the fact that GAT has just released Power patriot, a new album of material, which they recently showcased during a handful of promotional dates.

Garage A Trois

12.8.09

Tractor Tavern

Seattle

Interestingly enough, the closest thing to a Garage A Trois performance that I’ve seen in recent years involved both Hunter and Benevento, when they performed with Skerik and Bobby Previte as part of The Coalition of the Willing.  Just like that 2006 show, their recent performance on December 8th, also took place at Tractor Tavern in Seattle.  In the past, the group has performed with Benevento as “Garage A Benevento” but, now that he’s an official member, the level of his contributions are undeniable.  Not only did Marco contribute heavily to the writing and editing process of Power Patriot, but it was also released by the organist’s very own Royal Potato Family label.  This Seattle show kicked off the first promotional tour date for the album and, since Charlie Hunter was playing an early show at Jazz Alley, there was a lot of buzz in the air about the possibility of him showing up to sit in with his former group.

I arrived at the Tractor early and got in line.  It was cold as fuck but, at that point, the turnout was still minimal and I made it inside soon enough.  I bumped into a friend of friends that I’ve half-met endless times over the last decade.  He introduced me to a guy named Eyton, whom I’ve also already met but who  never remembers it.  Eyton is a taper and I found myself up front and next to him and his DAT setup as the show began.  Stanton Moore checked the sound by cracking out a beat that I recognized from his solo album, Flyin’ The Koop.  Marco took his position on the left behind a variety of keys and effects.  Mike Dillon, on the opposite site of the stage, was equipped with his vibraphone, timbales and a set of tablas at his feet.  Skerik edged his way through the front of the crowd in a black, zip-up Dead Kenny Gs sweatshirt, took center stage, and strapped on his saxophone.  When he took off his hoodie, he was wearing an Easy Street Records T-Shirt.  Dillon was sporting one too; they had played a free show at the West Seattle store location earlier in the day.  Graphic designer and Little Big Band guitarist, Maurice Caldwell Jr. stood stage-side in support of his friends from Critters Buggin.  I turned around to notice that there was little room behind me and that the venue had been packed.  The show was sold out.

The music started out with Mike Dillon and a melody from his vibraphone, while Skerik got the crowd amped up by welcoming everyone to their CD release party.  “…and we mean “party”!  ‘cuz we love to make records and we love to release!  We love the tension and release!“  After a few more measures of strictly vibes, Benevento and Moore dropped in with the low end of the rhythm section.  Shortly after Skerik entered, stretching out his brass and buoying it atop the rest of the thick groove.  The track was “Electric Doorbell Machine“, the one and only song from the new album which contains multiple writing credits (Dillon, Benevento, Skerik), and it was an immediate display of how well the current formation of GAT is able to mesh.  For everyone that claims that the loss of Charlie Hunter’s 8-string undoubtedly leaves gaping and irreplaceable holes in the quartet’s sound,  I disagree.  I think it’s important to remember that Benevento gained his first real notoriety as part of a DUO, that filled out a crazy amount of sound between only himself and Joe Russo on drums.  Hunter’s great, but a better replacement couldn’t have been found. During “Electric Doorbell Machine“, Marco laid down a solid bass line on the keys that mirrored the higher notes from Dillon across the stage.  Skerik swooped in and out of the track like a woodwind falcon and Stanton Moore’s beats incorporated elaborate fills that, remarkably, never over powered the sound.  The early, scattered energy of the crowd had all been redirected in a unified streams towards the stage and the members of the audience pumped and churned along like pistons, or the cogs and sprockets in the workings of one giant machine.  The show had started off with a brisk jog and showed no signs of ever slowing down.

The next song began as a dual drum jam between Stanton Moore and Mike Dillon on his timbales.  Benevento slowly eased in with some low notes until the song transitioned into the upbeat “The Real Morning Party” from his solo album Invisible Baby.  After the track Skerik screamed out “Teleprompter setlist, redneck style!” and Mike Dillon responded by holding up a piece of paper with the set-list scrawled on it for him to see.  Then, in a Walter Cronkite voice, Dillon added, “Yes the brown paper bag redneck teleprompter set-list in effect ladies and gentlemen“.  After some more banter, Skerik instructed everyone to “stretch it out!” and the group performed arm stretches by pulling their wrists over their heads.  A driving psychedelic rhythm kicked in and they were off again, playing another new track, the spy-jazzy “Rescue Spreaders” (Benevento).

The show was officially going full force.  They followed with the Dillon composed, “Dugout” which allowed the percussionist to showcase his prowess on the vibes and even offered Benevento ample room to throw down some ridiculous keyboard work.  The next song, “Dory’s Day Out“, was also a Dillon composition from the new album, but it took the show into lighter, more ethereal directions.  Benevento layered his circuit bent toy sounds over the twinkling vibes and then slowly dropped in a deep bass groove.  The song was a dreamy sparkling odyssey that wouldn’t seem out of place in the repertoire of French duo, AIR.  Mike Dillon pulled out even more intricate vibe-work and Marco shot electronic sounds everywhere, but “Dory’s Day Out” finds it’s foundation resting on perfectly timed subtleties.  I’ve seen Skerik command entire shows by himself, but the saxophonist knows just when to add his touch to a song and when to back off.  This was apparent, not only during this song, but throughout the entire show.

They finished off the set with a 20-plus minute rendition of the Skerik-written, freak jazz title-track from Power Patriot, a song that  runs a mere 3:22 on the actual album.  They stretched the fuck out of the song, allowing each member to have an opportunity to highlight their abilities through individual solos. Stanton floated around his kit like a humming bird and Skerik screeched out filtered noise, via his mouth through his saxophone mic.  Charlie Hunter had wandered in by then and, along with the props called out to him during the jam, Dillon spit a mediocre free-style rap about smoking weed with Marco and Skerik even represented Stanton Moore’s hometown by yelling out the New Orleans chant of “Who dat? Who dat? Who dat say dey gonna beat dem Saints?“.  They took a break to catch their breaths and sell/sign cds at the edge of the stage.

I went to the bathroom, grabbed 2 beers and squeezed back into my little spot by the stage before the second set began.  The quartet eased the the second half in with the slow build up and wispy sax work of “Computer Crimes“.  Next was the aggressive rhythm of Marco’s “Fragile“, featuring an unleashing of Skerik’s various squawks and squeals and Dillon’s vicious vibe attacks.  “Fragile” is like the soundtrack to an alleyway chase sequence in a Daniel Craig, Bond film.  Both of these second set lead off tracks are fine examples of  the spy-jazz elements that are definitely woven into GAT’s new album.  “Fat Redneck Gangster“, which they dove into immediately after wards, worked as even further evidence.  At some point I spilled my second beer all over the floor, near where I was standing.  A girl that was standing next to us joked by pointing out that I was “that guy“.  I hate “that guy“, partially because, just like myself, “that guy” never even gives a fuck.

For the next song, Charlie Hunter was brought on stage.  He didn’t have his 8-string with him; instead, he joined Marco over at the set up of his organ and various keys.  They stood side by side and Hunter cranked out the bassline “The Dwarf” off of the Garage A Trois created “soundtrack” to what was, supposedly, an unreleased French film called, Outre Mer.  Charlie’s presence not only added a second wind to the show, but also freed up Benevento to kick into some crazy all-out solo’s over the track.  As Hunter left the stage to applause, Skerik’s rants and comic relief were at a high for the night.  “Oh is it too late Ballard, do we have to stop?!“  “I’ve gotta be at microsoft…“  “Oh, but there’s a sale at REI.  I gotta be there when they open… I’ve have to buy more things with the color teal!“  While Skerik spewed out light-hearted jabs at his home town, Stanton and Dillon had entered into another dual drum routine.  This time it turned into what appeared to be a version of “Interpretive Ape Dance” from the Emphasizer record.  During this segment, Dillon was able to utilize multiple percussion instruments, including a cuica.  The next song started with Skerik screaming “Takin’ it Sacramento!” and Dillon following up with “Takin’ it Sacramento, motherfucker!“  They yelled, chanted, even rapped over a few select portions of the song, which was actually just a jazzed out cover of “Twin Killers” by the band Deerhoof.  When it was over Skerik apologized by saying, “Sorry for talking on your song Deerhoof.  I’ll shut up next time“.  I didn’t recognize what the next song was but, halfway through it, it morphed into a great rendition of “Summertime Rolls” by Jane’s Addiction.  By the looks of the rest of the crowd, I don’t think many people caught it.  They finished off the show by bringing Hunter back on stage with Maurice Caldwell Jr. and playing  a chaotic version of “Scratchitti” (Benevento/Russo Duo).  Charlie jumped on the timbales, Caldwell sang random shit like, “Must be santa!” into the mic, and Dillon ripped his shirt off.  The song shot all over the place, accelerated, and ended in a crash of jazz punk noise.  The musicians left the stage and wandered around the audience and the crowd eventually dissipated into a few mere stragglers before I headed home.

A group like Garage A Trois will, undoubtedly, draw two types of comparisons; one to it’s former lineup and another to the individual projects of it’s members.  As far as the replacement of Charlie Hunter is concerned, I like the new direction that the group has taken.  Benevento does add more of an aggressive rock dynamic and other changes, but they are ones that work and they work well.  Of the previous GAT releases, Outre Mer is perhaps the most focused and cohesive by the jazz quartet and, although Hunter’s touch on the 2005 record is undeniable, he has been quoted as saying the following about the album’s “concept” in an interview, “It’s all Skerik. Basically, Stanton and Mike and Skerik and I got together and Stanton and I worked out a lot of grooves in the studio“.  He also stated, “I was just down in New Orleans for the week that we recorded it. I wish I could tell you something; I do so much stuff that I’m totally ignorant as to what the thing is even about!“  With his various responsibilities limiting his time and ability to contribute sufficiently, Hunter graciously bowed out in benefit of the quartet.  Regardless of anyone’s personal feelings about his replacement, Benevento has more than taken up the slack of his predecessor.  After the show, I spoke very briefly with organist.  Since my interview with the him 2 years ago, Marco has released 2 solo albums and a DVD, started his own label, had a second child, and, not unlike his band mates, has toured continuously, as part of one project or another.  I asked him where and how he found time to squeeze working with Garage A Trois into his already packed schedule and he looked back at me clueless, as if my question didn’t make any sense.

However the members of GAT were able to find time to work together, the quality of the project doesn’t give any indication that it was rushed or “squeezed in”.  Garage A Trois manages to avoid having a fragmented sound that is often present in the material from other “super groups” like Oysterhead.  Without the liner notes, It would be difficult to determine who composed each of the individual tracks, because of the incredible cohesion within them.  The voices of each member meld together, without trampling over and muffling each other.  GAT has become more than a side project; it has become a legitimate force in it’s own right.  It is an assemblage that I hope the members are able to revisit often and, when they do, I encourage everyone to catch them live.  Quite fortunately, Power Patriot is also more than just a typical release.  While most jazz and/or jamband releases often can’t compare to the groups dynamic in a live setting, this release captures Garage A Trois‘ wild improvisational spirit, as well as the subtleties and intricacies of the member’s abilities through its production.

DOWNLOAD THE ENTIRE SHOW

To Download a FLAC copy of EYTON’s Live Recording of the show CLICK HERE
(use review for more accurate set list)

To stream/download this & other recordings from EYTON’s archive.org page link HERE

EDISON is based out of San Francisco and, even with the over saturation of quality electronic artists in the Bay, he’s still managing to set himself apart as a force in that circuit.  Part of what keeps me interested in the electronic musicians and producers that I love the most is their constant hunger for innovation and an unquenchable thirst to push their crafts, style, and sounds into new directions and possibilities.  It’s that need to always seek new levels of what else is possible.  From the little that I’ve witnessed from Edison so far, I have swiftly and wholehearted become interested in seeing where his desires and focus continue to take him in the future.  Unfortunately, my whacked-out,schizophrenic multi-focus is making it difficult for me to express all of the information that I’d like to at once and in a coherent fashion that would be more easily digestible.  Most likely, the place for us to begin is by acquainting you to the artist through the same means that I was introduced.  That method is by viewing this video.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Video Details:

all one shot sounds…
no loops running….
64 buttons
64 noises….
shot on 2 HD cameras, 720p, 1 live take…..
with audio captured right to camera…..

Some of you have seen a Monome device before and some of you haven’t.  If you haven’t, then your mind is probably being blown by the prospects of this newfangled technology.  If you have, it’s still likely that you’ve never seen anyone operate one with such speed and proficiency and, consequently, your mind is being blown by the prospects of this newfangled technology.  Monome is, esentially, a 2-person operation that designs “adaptable, minimalist interfaces in the catskills“.  These sequencers are produced in limited runs and are made to connect directly to laptops and other devices via USB.  I don’t believe that the early Monome devices that I remember seeing had an led light up function.  Over time, the popularity of the interfaces has grown and the technology has improved.  Artists like Daedelus (see our 2007 interview) have helped to pioneer using the Monome/laptop set-up for live performance, as well as to influence advances in, creator, Brian Crabtree’s original design.  Due to the demand, which grows more and more each year, Monome also offers another limited production run of kits for their original, 64 button 40h model.  The one that Edison is playing above is a Monome device that he constructed by using a modified lunchbox.  Yep… that’s a lunchbox.

The Monome has become almost synonymous with Daedelus, due to his showcasing of the contraptions so effectively over the last couple of years.  Edison seems to be pushing the use of Monomes into new directions, himself, and both of the artists were recently invited to perform and speak about their production/performance techniques at a Monome related conference held at Princeton University.  Beyond the obvious applications in live performance, Edison has relied heavily on his converted lunchbox to produce his debut album, All the Information at Hand.  Beyond the obvious reference to the device in its title, the album’s cover art actually features a graphic of a Monome sequencer button layout.

The track featured in the video above is called “Tonka Truck” and a slightly different/longer version is what leads off All the Information at Hand.  I think that it was a wise approach to start the album off by kicking in the door with a more aggressive track, before heading into some of the more ambient and relaxed directions.  Many of my favorite classics also begin same way, including RJD2’s Dead Ringer (with “The Horror”) and DJ Shadow’s Entroducing (although “Building Steam with a Grain of Salt” is technically track #2).  After listening to the album for a couple of days, I played “Tonka Truck” for our writer OG.  I only told him that it was a new album that would be coming out and purposely didn’t disclose who the artist was.  After it was clear that he was enjoying it, he asked, “Is this a new EL-P album?“.  I shook my head.  “Who is this, RJD2?“  Nope.  “Amon Tobin?“  His response was helpful because, as he took each stab at guessing, it made me realize certain elements that he was picking up on and that the beat did sound like something that could easily be found on an album like Fantastic Damage.  The song “One Mess After Another, Please“, is also reminiscent of the work by the Def Jux label owner, with it’s blown-out speaker bass and siren samples.

“Introductions and Latitude” furthers the hip hop sound, with it’s DJ Shadow-style beat and layering.  ”Chopping At the Crab (Apple) Tree” features the same type of heavy beat drops, but it sounds like something which could appear on more laid back Squarepusher releases, such as Budakhan Mindphone.  At other times, the song even features tinges of Buckethead material, like a cross between the work on Colma and Bermuda Triangle.  “The Surface, and Under” and “Little Voices” are 2 examples of songs which truly highlight Edison’s attention to subtle details.  My speakers were completely fucked and I recently sent my laptop out to have them fixed.  The light crackles and pops that come through on the “The Surface, and Under” had me worried, until I realized that they were each perfectly in sync and that it wasn’t from computer problems.  “Little Voices“, on the other hand, has Edison slightly warping the melody at points, giving off the impression that your batteries may be dying in a music player.

The more that I listen to All the Information at Hand, the more that I enjoy it.  Although each song can easily be viewed as it’s own individual entity, this album really works best for me as a complete piece.  I’ve had it running all of the way through repeatedly and the transitions are really smooth.  Each time it circles through, another song seems to pop out at me.  Last time it was the song “The Great Houdini’s Magic Computer“.  This time, it is “How We Got Here and Now“, a track with Daedelus-esque vocal samples and the kind of Richard D. James album melody that feels like it is literally breathing light.  The biggest, and possibly only, mis-step for me is “Ditch Dig Anthem” a track intended to showcases Edison’s rap crew, PaperVehicle.  It seems like every beat maker seems to have a “crew” and feels the need to feature them rapping on an otherwise instrumental effort.  I wasn’t impressed with the cadence or flow of PaperVehicle and they seem fairly generic, as far as the back pack rap scene is concerned.  Overtime, however, the song has grown on me a bit.  Not to the point of enjoyment, necessarily, but to the point where it doesn’t seem overly out of place or disjointed on the album and to where I can appreciate the beat.  EL-P was praised for his production and attacked for his flow for years, until he provided irrefutable evidence of his quality as an overall performer.  This may be the case with Edison as well, but I’ll wait and see.  For now, I look forward to the beats but am less than interested in the vocal accompaniment.

Over the years, Edison has shared stages with Cage (Def Jux), The Alkoholiks, and Alpha Pup artists like Daedelus and Existero.  Taking this into account, the hip hop aspects of his sound are not surprising.  Other artists like RJD2 and Blockhead were primarily known as beatmakers for rap artists, until they dropped debut solo efforts that really highlighted what they were capable of.  I feel that All The Information At Hand could become another Dead Ringer or Music By Cavelight for Edison, and will truly open doors and bring him the respect that artists are fighting for everywhere.  Hopefully, it will also bring attention to the Egadz! run Kid Without Radio label that is releasing it.  For the last 2 decades, labels like WARP and Ninja Tune have dominated the electronic genre with some of the best music being produced by some of the most enduring artists.  I’m always happy to see smaller labels like Daly City Records and this one proving that the genre is growing and shining the light on artists that we may otherwise never find out about.  As for Edison and his debut, my feelings are simple.  Most of us probably don’t have the two-hundred grand plus to shell out to Richard Branson for the chance at some theoretical astronomical journey, but I strongly recommend hopping on board the rocket, which is Edison’s career, before it takes off.  From the first listen of All The Information At Hand, the word “PROMISE!” kept jumping out at me.  It’s not that I don’t appreciate what Edison has already created, because I think it’s great, It’s just that I can’t wait to hear where else he’s going to take it in the future.  There is little that excites me more about music than knowing that I’ve just come across an artist that is only at the very beginning of an illustrious catalog.  It’s like the beginning of a new relationship or the start of a film.  It’s anticipation and excitement.  It’s only a matter of time.  For now, we have something to look forward to and something thoroughly enjoyable in the meantime.

Click here to view the embedded video.

This bonus video short of Edison and his song  “Blue & Yellow” is from 2008 and was directed by Mike Landry.

Please Use the Following Edison-related Links for More Info:
Purchase All The Information At Hand HERE
Edison on Myspace
Edison on Vimeo

Much like The Pixies, DEVO has set out on a limited city tour, scheduled to coincide with a deluxe album re-release.  The Ultra DEVO-LUX Ltd. Edition packaging will feature their debut album, Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo, and the commercially successful Freedom of Choice.  The double re-issue will also contain unreleased material, 2 DVDs, a poster, and a yellow 7 inch vinyl.  The tour itself  involves a 2 night stop in each of 6 different major cities.  The first of the nights features the group performing Are We Not Men? in its entirety, while the second night involves them giving the same treatment to Freedom of Choice.  I knew that DEVO was scheduled to perform a pair of dates in Seattle, but I had also accepted that I was probably not going to be able to see either of them.  I tried to jump on it and request passes the day that the press release was sent out, but it was a difficult ticket to get and the comp. tickets were all accounted for by radio stations.  As someone who used to listen to Are We Not Men? religiously, I was disappointed.  When the day of the show approached and I hadn’t heard any good news, I all but put the concerts out of my mind entirely.  The first night came and went but, on the second/Freedom of Choice night, I received a last minute email informing me that I could be approved for a photo pass.  The problem was that there were no more reviewer passes left.  I’ve had issues trying to enter the venue without a ticket in the past, but I was assured that shouldn’t be an issue.  This also meant that, if I wanted to stay in the venue after the 3-song limit outlined in the photo-policy, I was going to have to do so on the sly.

DEVO

November, 9 2009

The Moore Theater

Seattle, Wa

After going to the wrong venue, I stumbled up to the box office and received what was easily the slickest photo-pass that I have ever seen.  It was in the shape of  one of DEVO’s patented “energy dome” hats.  I’ve noticed that it’s easier to control a conversation if I speak first and speaking quickly, so I flashed my pass at the doorman like Axel Foley and said, “I was told that this would be enough” as I stepped through the door.  For a split secon, he looked around aimlessly, then nodded in agreement and said, “Okay.”  Once inside, I finally met our connection to the venue, which has been helping us gain access to endless shows and has been providing ticket giveaways for all of you Chachis over the last year.  He told me that there would be some open seats on the floor and that I could probably just slide back into one of them, inconspicuously, after I was done shooting.

Reggie Watts was opening but, after running from the last venue, I needed a drink and spent his set in the bar downstairs.  I was sitting at an empty table, so a couple asked to share it with me.  The female of the two was sipping an $11 specialty drink called the “Whip It“, which she disappointingly realized wasn’t much different than a Cape Cod.  Before heading back up-stairs, I discovered that that the man was in a local band called Super Geek League.  More than just a band name, it was also foreshadowing for the crowd at the DEVO show that night.

The more bands that I see, the more aware that I become of the distinct differences between the respective crowds that are drawn to them.  This time I felt as if I had crashed a D&D tournament.  While I was getting my camera ready, I tried to make small talk with a man who was sitting in the front row with his lady.  “Were you at last night’s show too?“, I asked.  He responded with, “Yes.  A lot of people were.“  I then asked him if DEVO did anything special for the Q: & A: album’s set and he responded by telling me that, “They played the album all of the way through.“  I knew that much, already.  “I mean, was the performance itself tailored in anyway to the album or was there anything different that related to it specifically?“  He opened up slightly more, but his answers were still very distant.  It was as if I, with camera, was there to observe and document them as “fanatics” and not for the show itself.  Ironically, it was that suspicious discomfort that, actually, made me realize that the crowd was just as vital in the documentation of the concert itself.  There was a general, conflicting mix of awkwardness, confidence, self doubt, elitism, excitement, and apathy in the air.   Fans funneled into seats in the plastic “energy domes” that they freshly purchased from the merch table.  They held unopened vinyl records and were pulling on crisp T-Shirts.  I wasn’t sure if the message was that I was too “cool” to be there or that I wasn’t “cool” enough.  Part of me wanted to go up to someone holding a sealed Are We Not Men? album and let them know that I have the original release on marble vinyl or, perhaps, just point out the irony of mass consumerism at a show for one of the most anti-capitolism/conformist bands of all time.  “Relax self, you’re bigger than that and at least, you’ve seen a live woman naked before.  Besides, what if you become addicted to patronization and are in desperate need of some IT help someday?“.  Fuck it!  Maybe the issue was just that it was Freedom of Choice (1980) night and “Through Being Cool” wasn’t released until the following year [New Traditionalists (1981)].

The equipment (drums, synths, etc) were set up and the back of the stage was equipped with large, boxy, speaker-shaped lighting rigs.  The drums were positioned to the left and everything was arranged very symmetrically.  A projector screen had been pulled down in the center and the show began by having the video for “Girl You Want” played on it.  This was followed, in order, by the videos for “Whip  It” and “Freedom of Choice“.  I was just hoping that these videos didn’t qualify as part of of my 3-song photo limit.  The screen lifted and a skinny “spud boy” came out wearing nothing, but his rubber mask and tighty whities.  He held a card, reading “Track 1” over his head, like a ring girl, and the band took the stage to an uproar of applause.  Staying true to the Freedom of Choice era, they were sporting matching short-sleeve, beige jumpsuits and their trademark energy domes on top of their heads.  The jumpsuits had a vertical stripe up the right side of the chest and another one that simulated a belt around the waist.  Both of them appeared to be constructed from red packing tape and the ensembles stayed true to the ones from 30 yrs ago.  They were slightly different than the originals but, unless you’re a complete fucking nerd, you wouldn’t have noticed it.  {Fun Fact:  I noticed}.

The individual members of DEVO took the helm at their appropriate stations and immediately broke into “Girl U Want“.  Mark Mothersbaugh stepped towards the front of the stage, pumping his microphone into the air, while synchronized flashes of color and light mesmerized the crowd.  Looking at my notebook now, I see that I have scrawled down the words “Industrial Nerds and Magic“.  There’s an instantaneous excitement that can overtake someone the moment that a show finally begins, but it doesn’t always last.  I had just watched the complete “Girl U Want” video in it’s entirety and, by hearing it again so quickly, the hype could barely be sustained through to the end of the track.  As expected, they followed it up with “It’s Not Right” and the set continued in chronological album order until the end.  The next song on Freedom of Choice is “Whip It“, so that was next.  Obviously, this is their most famous track and, unfortunately, the only one that the majority of people even know by the group.  Interestingly enough, when the video for “Whip It” was released, it was hailed by some as being “sexist” and stirred up more controversy than any of their previous work.  Now it’s a favorite of soccer moms and corporate baseball enthusiast.  It is also the only DEVO song listed in most karaoke song books.

If these guys were one-hit wonders, without a solid catalog, they would be playing shitty Casinos, instead of selling out The Moore Theatre on back to back nights.  Being a fan of said catalog, their one “popular” song can feel played out and the fact that I just watched the official video for it, not 20 minutes prior, didn’t help alleviate that feeling.  The lights flashed red, like a swarm of ambulances, and Mothersbaugh waved his hands, snapping his wrists as if he were cracking a whip.  In the middle of the song, he frisbeed a couple of energy domes out to the audience.  Other than that, the performance wasn’t too exciting and it really felt as if they were simply going through the motions.

The man in his drawls returned holding the track 4 and 5 signs in his hands.  This was supposed to be my cue to quit shooting and, keeping in mind that I didn’t have a ticket, I backed up towards an empty seat.  Then, realizing that I’m an asshole, I fired off a couple of extra shots anyway.  Holding 3 fingers in my face, an irritated security guard manifested in seconds, like some form of ninja apparition.  “Oh, first 3?“, I pretended to clarify and then sat down.  At least I was still inside and they had just kicked into the opening synth riff from “Snowball“.  Things were getting interesting and beginning to pick back up again.  Josh Freese has been drumming for DEVO since their reformation in 1996, and he has some solid chops on the electro break-beats.  During the intro, the other 4 members hopped on one foot , alternated feet, and clapped their hands overhead to the snare hits; all in sync with each other.

Click here to view the embedded video.

For “Ton O’ Luv“, Jerry Casale took center stage at the mic and his brother, Bob (aka: “Bob 2″) took over his spot at the keys behind him.  For the title track, Jerry took his bass to the mic, Bob2 strapped on his guitar, and Mark sang up front,  only returning to his rack to play the signature “Freedom of Choice” keyboard jam.  They would make minor changes like this throughout the rest of the show; switching instruments, sharing vocals, etc.  However, beyond these planned out rotations and the few synchronized steps from earlier, there wasn’t much orchestration to the set at all.  They didn’t fuck anything up, but there was little to no banter and they offered up a fairly basic rendition of the album straight through.  The set, just like the record, ended on the song “Planet Earth“.

ENCORE

Once they left the stage, the lights went down and a projection of stars shot across the back of the stage.  An audio track came through the monitors, which urged the audience to think about the “incomprehensible” size of the universe and how our galaxy alone is like a “speck of sand“.  The voice then humbly recognized the tiny insignificance of DEVO in the grand scheme of this massive world and welcomed them back to the stage.  The light came back on and the encore began with the single “Be Stiff“.  Jerry Casale marched and sang, while Bob “Bob 1” Mothersbaugh showcased his guitar skills.  After the synth-pop heavy album, it was really refreshing to hear them pull an early song from their repertoire that was more on the straight punk side.  This also marked some of the first real interaction with the crowd, as Jerry advised us to, “Always live you’re on TV.  Stiff and rigid, like an apple tree.“  Mark Mothersbaugh had slipped off back-stage and I could see that he was changing into his alter-ego, Booji Boy.  His bandmates began playing the song “Beautiful World” [New Traditionalists], with Casale still on vocals.  About a minute into the song, Mothersbaugh re-entered in his alternate getup.  The frontman was dressed in his updated Booji Boy attire, which consisted of a baseball cap, with a rhinestone skull on the front, and a chorus member-style gown, with “Booji Boy” sewn across the back.  He waved to the audience, sang in his standard high-pitch voice, and even threw down a keyboard solo.  The keyboard jam morphed into a tease of “Satisfaction“, before turning into a slow groove/breakdown to allow “Booji Boy” to say a few words to the audience.  “You know?  It seems like such a long time ago, when we did these songs.“  he began.  “But I remember it just like yesterday, when DEVO first went to Hollywood, ‘cuz we didn’t know anyone and Booji Boy was scared“  He continued by telling a story about walking down Hollywood and Vine, having Michael Jackson pick him up in a limo, and going to Neverland Ranch.  He said that he was “the nicest” man and expressed his sadness about the loss.  He then told the crowd that he was sure that, if MJ could crawl out of the grave “just like inThriller” and walk up to Seattle to get on stage with them, that he would say, “It’s a Beautiful World!“  The song returned full-force and finished off strong.

Click here to view the embedded video.

At the end, Booji Boy lifted up his gown to expose a hidden fannypack.  With one hand, he reached inside and pulled out multi-colored rubber balls, which he threw and bounced out to the audience.  It was a little unsettling to see middle-aged men climbing over seats to grab super balls with happy faces on them.  One guy, in particular, was making excuses under his breath, while he jumped in front of women and grabbed at the feet of other patrons to grab those gumball souvenirs.  I caught one and handed it to a girl and her boyfriend who had just been swarmed by that fool.  As I left the venue, grown adults were still shamefully crawling around on the ground to get as many of the balls as they could.

Some shows take me longer to write about and that’s often because some of them take me a while to process and figure out how I truly feel about them.  It may be my Jewish heritage in effect again but, although I did enjoy the free show, I still left disappointed.  That isn’t to say that the show wasn’t any good, because I’m aware that this disappointment is very subjective and relates to the specific preferences that I have as an individual.  Then again, since I’m the one reviewing the concert, my preferences are the only ones that really matter.

I made no effort to see DEVO perform at Lollapalooza in 1996, because I foolishly assumed that they would be following it up with a full-on tour.  It then took me another 10 years before I was finally able to see my first show and, after seeing them again, I began to wonder if that played a role in why I felt that 2006 show was so much better than this one.  In certain ways, I believe that it may have.  The last time that I saw them, I was sitting up in the balcony of the Paramount Theater.  Though my front row access provided me with “better” seats this time, after watching videos from this recent performance, I realized that being so close may not have offered me as wide or complete of a view, regarding the stage presentation, light-sequencing, etc.  Then there’s that pure excitement of seeing them for the first time that I lacked this time.  However, by that same token, that excitement was probably being added to the experience of many of those who you may find raving about this same concert.

In some ways, my experience was doomed to be less than mind-blowing from the beginning because, although I love DEVO, Freedom of Choice is, by no means, my favorite of their records.  Perhaps this growing tendency for bands to perform a a “classic” release from start to finish is the fault of ATP and their festivals.  It’s a good concept for an annual festival but, I have mixed feelings about these type of shows, because I’m not sure what considerations determine an artist’s “seminal” work.  Freedom of Choice marked a huge transition for the band into a more synth-pop sound than ever before.  The “de-emphasis” on guitars was further reflected in guitarist, Bob Mothersbaugh’s name increasingly evaporating from the song writing credits.  The song “That’s Pep” even sounds a lot like Steely Dan at points.  “Whip It” helped propel the band, as well as this album, to the forefront of popular culture, but that doesn’t mean that performing the complete album live will provide a well-rounded show.  Only 2 of the 12 songs on Freedom of Choice even extend beyond 3 minutes.  This results in a minuscule overall running time and, subsequently, a concert that ended far too early.  I am much more partial to the complexities and rawness of their previous 2 releases, than the more polished sound that they began to deliver in 1980.  Noticeably absent are the epic, hybrid double-tracks like “Gut Feeling/Slap Your Mammy” [Are We Not Men?] and “Smart Patrol/Mr. DNA” [Duty Now For the Future], which are two of my favorites from the group.  The tracklist  for Are We Not Men? is so amazing that the set would have felt like hit after hit.  Unfortunately, this feeling was missing from the Freedom of Choice show that I saw.

I enjoyed the opportunity to experience the concert, but I am still jealous of those who were in attendance the previous night.  At first, I felt that I was having issues with objectivity, because of my love for the Are We Not Men? album but, by viewing footage from the previous night, I’ve realized that my less than enthusiastic opinions stem from something a bit more valid.  DEVO’s visual elements have gone through many transitions and incarnations over the years.  That’s why it’s unfortunate that, when most people hear the name DEVO, their references are limited to the video with the “flower pots“.  I felt that this Freedom of Choice performance successfully delivered that pre-packaged concept to those that desired it, but that it left the rest of us unfulfilled.  From what I’ve seen of the first night, the performers seemed a little less enthusiastic to be performing it, themselves.  Based on photos and video, night one had more of a focus on props, costume changes, and interplay with the audience.  They wore their patented, yellow radiation suits, which were ripped off of them in sections to reveal their Rollerball-esque, black T-Shirts, shorts, and knee pads look.  This is the showmanship that i remember and miss from the 2006 performance.  In addition to this, they brought out pom-poms and both of the Mothersbaugh brothers even entered the audience, at one point.  They had additional lighting rigs, incorporated more of their disjointed dance movements, and even encored with “Smart Patrol/Mr. DNA“.  The show that I saw was for the masses, while the night before was for the slightly deeper fans.  It’s similar to how Meat Puppets treated their fans to Meat Puppets II last year.  If they had done Too High Too Die instead, it would have been the equivalent to DEVO’s playing of Freedom of Choice.  Then there are still those of us who would rather see Meat Puppets perform Up on the Sun and witness DEVO tear through their severely overlooked and under-appreciated masterpiece, Duty Now For the Future.  Obviously, with such difficulty in obtaining a pass to either show, I didn’t exactly have the “freedom to choose” which one I saw.  Still, it can be difficult to gain enthusiasm for a show when it appears like the performers may be losing theirs.

This footage, from the same year that Freedom of Choice was released, is a prime example of what I wish I could have seen that night.

Click here to view the embedded video.

In 1981, DEVO was interviewed on the Australian television show, Countdown.  During that interview, Gerald “Jerry” Casale was asked if he had any fears about DEVO gaining popular appeal among the masses.  He responded to this by saying, “It deserves to become commercial, it deserves to become huge.  It deserves to become the next thing, because we represent the way that a lot of kids feel” and  “It’s our duty to be as big as we can be and still be viable.  It’s the challenge.  Y’know,  how soon will you become ridiculous?  How soon will you become the people that you hated.“  For whatever it’s worth or whatever it means, I feel that the experiment was “successful”.  This band doesn’t belong in the group with ‘80s one-hit wonders or humor rock.  Regardless of if they ever get the recognition for it that they deserve or not, DEVO is a brilliant social commentary being delivered by misunderstood innovators that were ahead of their time..  They are more than a band, they are an institution and a greater concept.  Although later releases may be found less appealing, DEVO never once let go of their central ideas about “De-Evolution” and their attacks on materialism and the destruction actually being created through creature comforts, quests for fame, and inventions known as “technological advancements”.  This is  further evidenced by post-DEVO work, such as Gerald Casale’s Jerry Jihad and The Evildoers project.  Even when taking on large corporations as clients, Mark Mothersbaugh has managed to do such things as slip subliminal messages like “obey” and “submit” into a Coke-A-Cola commercial.  Gerald is a successful videographer and Bob 1 works at his brother’s musical production company, Mutato Muzika, where Mark has created the scores for Wes Anderson films (Rushmore, Life Aquatic, etc), TV shows (Pee-Wee’s Playhouse, Rugrats), and video games (Crash Bandicoot, The Sims 2, etc).  Recently, Mothersbaugh scored the film Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs and, with his consistent art gallery shows, I think that the members may be spreading themselves thin.  I’ve watched video clips from other shows on this tour and it’s pretty clear that I caught them on an off night.  Fortunately, an “off night” for DEVO still means a pretty solid performance, even if their domes aren’t pulling in much energy.

The real test of viability will be the release of DEVO’s first full album of material in 20 years.  The release date of the tentatively titled, “FRESH” is slated SPRING 2010.  Below is the video for the album’s first single, “Don’t Shoot (I’m a Man)”, for anyone who has yet to see it.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Multi-instrumentalist and songwriter, Sufjan Stevens earned his most notable success through 2005’s Illinois album.  The 22-song ode to the Prairie State launched both Stevens and his “50 States Project” into the public eye.  In 2006, he followed it up with The Avalanche: Outtakes and Extras from the Illinois Album and a 5-disc box set of Christmas music but, since then, the releases have pretty much ceased.  There’s a strange conflict created in the logic of many of Sufjan’s fans because, although they want to hear a “new” project from him, they are also focused around what the next installment of the last (50 States) project is gonna be.  People would often prefer to buy the same album over and over again than risk having an artist grow in a direction that is uncomfortable for them to deal with.  For anyone with logic and reasoning skills, it’s clear that Stevens will never write an album for each of the 50 states, unless technology and/or his work ethic changes drastically.  I don’t think that the artist’s intentions or claims are dishonest but, even by churning out an album every year, it would still take him until the age of 82 to finish the project.  Music aside, I am acquiring a growing respect for Sufjan’s approach to the creative process, which involves healthy doses of patience, a virtue that I have trouble possessing.  His focus seems to be more about the process than the result and, whether or not you enjoy those results, his dedication and sincerity is undeniably commendable.  He seems to be content with investing as much time to create, or even re-structure, a project until it’s just the way he had envisioned.  In fact, October 6th marks the release of Run Rabbit Run, a reworking of his 2001 Chinese Zodiac-themed, electronic album Enjoy Your Rabbit; this time, with all string instruments.

Recently, I had the opportunity to view one of Steven’s most ambitious projects yet.  In usual Sufjan fashion, The BQE is based around a very specific theme; The Brooklyn-Queens Expressway.  Like the 50 states Project, it’s geography based, and the music is completely instrumental, like that of Enjoy Your Rabbit.  There is one aspect that puts The BQE in stark contrast from any of his previous work, however, and that’s the fact that it’s also a film.

The BQE project was originally commissioned by the Brooklyn Academy of Music and presented in October of 2007, as part of the Next Wave Festival’s 25th anniversary celebration.  Described as “a cinematic suite inspired by the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway and the Hula-Hoop“, the presentation involved a 35-piece band and orchestra, three simultaneous film projections, and live hula hoop crew, during its 3-night run at the Howard Gilman Opera House.  A week after the shows, Stevens entered a studio with the orchestra and recorded the soundtrack but, for one reason or another, the project was shelved.  After two years, Sufjan finally took on the daunting task of pulling all of the elements together into one somewhat concise form.  On October 2oth, The BQE will be released in a deluxe “home version”, which includes the soundtrack as well as a DVD.

I found a showing of the film in Seattle, thanks to The NW Film Forum holding a limited engagement.  The screening room had maximum occupancy of only 49.  There would have just been barely enough room to contain the full cast of performers from the original BAM shows, before risking a violation.  Before I attended the showing, I knew very little about the history of the project, but I had already heard parts of the soundtrack.  From what I gathered, I assumed that it would involve some instrumental music stacked over a lot of imagery involving asphalt and vehicles.  Strictly based on those limited assumptions, I really wasn’t that far off.

Click here to view the embedded video.

The movie began pretty much like the trailer above, with a shot of the expressway in the distance and the hula hooping trio, only slightly more drawn out.  The simultaneous 3 frame structure continues through out the entirety of the the film, as does the format of utilizing a strictly musical audio track to narrate it.  Technically, The BQE is little more than 40 minutes of expressway footage coupled with dramatic orchestrations, but it’s not as monotonous as it sounds.  It’s the various ways that the imagery and sound are constantly re-presented , which can be credited with giving the film it’s depth and keeping the viewers engaged.

After the introduction sequence and it’s corresponding music (“Prelude on the Esplanade”/”Introductory Fanfare for the Hooper Heroes”), the film transitions into images of old NY architecture, which can be viewed from the expressway itself, and then to the traffic that moves through it.  Twinkling piano ripples enter in, as this portion marks the first of 7 movements in the production.  Each segment is consciously arranged this way, with an accompanying musical piece.  It’s all very symphonic and the unfolding of the musical elements play similar to that of a ballet.  Without the footage, this movement (“In the Countenance of Kings”) alone could lend itself to imagery of Snow White or Little Red Riding Hood, gently entering a forest clearing as little woodland creatures slowly expose themselves.  The notes dance around, almost romantically, and then plunge into dark dramatic moments of deep passion, before floating back out like a hummingbird.  Meanwhile, the, otherwise mundane, imagery flashes across the screen in triplets and is given new life through its altered contexts.

Storage facilities, graffitied-out building walls, and auto auctions with an American flag/giant inflatable gorilla advertisement graced the screen.  Once the expectations  of what deserves attention and focus have died, some really fascinating concepts begin to pop out organically.  The subject of the film is a strip of road that is widely regarded as a congested eyesore and which, for all intents and purposes, was constructed over 25 years in a struggle for functionality.  There are many problems that could be focused on with the expressway, including much of the view that it provides, but there is also a lot of craftsmanship involved that is often overlooked.  After viewing the various plays on imagery, my thoughts shifted from urban blight to the actual effort and beauty behind the scenery.  At one point, a McDonalds restaurant even comes across as majestic, instead of as a corporate threat to American consumers.

The BQE is shot with both Super 8 and 16mm film.  Super 8 provides the bleak, washed-out tones and nostalgic imagery, prominent in so many grainy family home videos, not to mention The Wonder Years intro.  I’ve always felt that the film produces a somewhat, frantic feeling, as if the images were trying to catch up with real time, so it works incredibly well with scenes involving automobiles and gridlock.  The 16mm footage was shot with an old school 1960’s Bolex camera, utilizing it’s in-camera editing capabilities.  Since the scenery of the film is limited to 12.7 miles of concrete  and mortar, the transitions are often very subtle, but that actually helps ad to their effectiveness.  During, what I later discovered to be, the second movement (“Sleeping Invader”), notes began to mirror the sounds of bells and the happy toot of car horns.  The tri-panel display shifted from showing primarily related images to more thought provoking and contrasting subjects.  A panel featuring a shot of a land fill would share the screen with scenes of the open water or rows of graveyard headstones would be replaced with rows of empty cars in a parking lot.  These are the aspects which save the film from slipping away from the viewer and help manage to keep it interesting, because the viewer is allowed to draw their own conclusions about the what these  moments may symbolize.

After all of the elements began to gel, the first interlude (“Dream Sequence in Subi Circumnavigation”) presented itself.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Weather or not “Subi” was an auto leasing reference to “Special Unit of Beneficial Interest“, I don’t know but, by this point, I had already began to view expressway as a living entity and each of the individual vehicles on it as working togehter for a common goal.  After the chaos of the swirling hoops and tires of the interlude, the film spill out into the sound of playful stacatto plucks and little zippy cars.  This third movement (“Linear Tableau with Intersecting Surprise”) truly embodies it’s title, as little groupings of steel boxes slide across the expressway like products on a factory conveyor belt.  Images of apartment windows formed questions for me about where the people were actually traveling to.  It seems as though everyone is so urgent to transport themselves from one compartment to another and maintain a separation from each other.  The odd thing about this suggestion is that there is the duality that also implies the exact opposite.  Generally, when viewing something such as traffic, I notice the separation between objects and not their unity.  The same is true with a marathon or in NASCAR, because there is a inherent conditioning to edge someone out and grasp for dominance in those situations.  This time, however, I saw the cars more as ants working in unison.  Although these are two very contradictory concepts, they work off of each other and suggest more of a multi-angled view and fresh perspective than they present any conflict.

As the vehicles shoot across, up, under, and around the concrete assembly lines, the intensity continues to build and take flight with trumpeting horns and flurries of strings.  The action rises until the bottom eventually drops out and transitions into a glitched-out IDM and Drill n Bass sequence of time-lapse video and blurred imagery.  This movement (“Traffic Shock”) was my favorite, both visually and soundtrack-wise.  This segment was like a shot of adrenaline or a key bump on Space Mountain, with neon streams/blurs of time-lapse traffic and head lights pumping through concrete arteries.  Camera angles shifted around with various night shots and the glowing beams of smeared automobiles gave off a heavy Tron-like, futuristic vibe and whipped around the little tracks like Mario Cart.  The BQE was really beginning to solidify itself as more of a visual artwork than any sort of story or message based film.

["Movement IV—Traffic Shock"]

Up until that point, the pacing and usage of the triple-pane method seemed much slower and less overt.  At times, each panel would present a different image while, at other times, each one would be a slightly different angle and/or lapse in time of the same shot.  The images often seemed as if they’d flow into one another, as if a car was driving through one frame to the next.  Sometimes the same image being run at different intervals would create this effect.  For example: all 3 panels would show the same shot of the Statue of Liberty with a boat passing in front of it but, by running each one at slightly different times of eachother, the boat would exit the left side of the right frame as the middle frame showed it entering and caused it to look as if it was driving through.  It was like the video equivalent of a musical round.  The spontaneity and movement of the flipping panels often even felt like a game of 3-Card Monte.  These aesthetic approaches didn’t entirely halt after the fourth movement, though.  Instead, they were simply mixed in with new ones, while the usage, experimentation, and aggressiveness of effects were being upped, all around.  The aftermath of the electronic chaos brought the royalty and fanfare of trumpets, along with symmetrical landscapes and  the mirroring of images.  By grouping footage next to inverted versions of itself, fascinating compositions were formed that were larger and more powerful than the original frames would have been alone.  Frames were aligned in ways that blended them together and formed zig-zagged kaleidoscopic mandalas like casino carpeting.  Cars would dance and crisscross through each frame like blood cells in an ant farm.  At one point, the images even momentarily took on the shape of an abstract robotic entity for me; an Optimus Prime of  medians and overpasses.

As the film continues to wind down, new and old subjects continue to be mixed into the batter.  The Hula hoopers return and carnival scenes of Coney Island are introduced, as well as tranquil moments of panoramic skylines.

The most obvious comparison being drawn to The BQE is with Godfrey Reggio’s groundbreaking 1982 classic, Koyaanisqatsi.  In fact, I find it hard to believe that anyone who’s seen both films wouldn’t make note of the similarities instantly.  Each of them involve symphonic orchestrations and suburban landscape shots, but  Koyaanisqatsi [along with sequels Powaqqatsi (1988) and Naqoyqatsi (2002)] marked a cinematic breakthrough.  The BQE, which borrows from the Quatsi format heavily, is hardly as innovative, but I’m not sure that it’s necessarily supposed to be.  Reggio’s film covers a lot more territory with its footage and subject matter.  It uses sweeping crane shots to pan down over both rural and urban landscapes, while The BQE relies primarily on more static shots.  The cinematography in Reggio’s classic also incorporates multiple drawn-out, zoom and slow-motion portraiture shots, bringing attention to the people existing in and interacting with the environments being spotlighted.  It also features a Phillip Glass soundtrack with memorably haunting chants woven throughout.  Besides the “Hooper Heroes”, Sufjan’s project is much less overt, as far as addressing any direct human involvement.  In fact, The BQE is much less overt in most aspects.  In reference to his triumph, Reggio has been quoted as saying that, “it is up [to] the viewer to take for himself/herself what it is that [the film] means” and I feel that is where the power of each of these films lie.  However, by using imagery as potent as explosions and hospital rooms and by editing drastic cuts from circuit boards to near identical overhead layouts of city-scapes, some connections feel more insinuated in Koyaanisqatsi.  Steven’s main interest with the 1982 film seems to be strictly with zeroing in it’s minimal freeway scenes and expanding upon them.

The  BQE is not a re-invention of the wheel, by any stretch.  Some of Sufjan’s shots are almost identical to those of it’s predecessor but, by maintaining his focus on one solid piece of subject matter, it allows for the fledgling filmmaker to explore it with a multitude of different approaches, angles, and avenues (pun intended).  Even as someone who loves Koyaanisqatsi, I was still able to really enjoy The BQE and gain something new from it.  Sufjan Stevens has admitted to having an “obsession” with the American landscape and has said that his 50 states Project relates to his fascination with “understanding the american identity“.  I think that I enjoyed The BQE, which easily could have come across as contrived, because I could sense an honest intention in the film.

I think that it’s a mistake to approach this film with any expectations.  If you go in with the hopes of seeing a historical documentation of the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway, a standard Sufjan Stevens piece, or even a new Quatsi installment, you’re risking disappointment.  I also believe tha, if there’s any message at all to the film, it also stems from that concept of avoiding expectation.  As the film settles in, and the viewer is forced to accept and embrace where the expressway will or will not take them, it becomes clear that the expressway is as much of a destination as it is a structure of transport.  Honestly, the most impressive thing about the film is the way that it’s all painstakingly edited together in a magnificent and elaborate cohesion.  Like any good piece of art, The BQE should be viewed more emotionally than intellectually.  If you’re able to go in with an your eyes, ears, and mind “open” and appreciate it for it’s sensory contributions, I think that you may find it to be a solid offering.  If you want to see Sufjan in a romantic comedy, because you think he’s dreamy, or if hate art films, this probably isn’t going to work out for you.

The Official Release / Live Performance

For the official release of The BQE, Sufjan Stevens and Asthmatic kitty have thrown together a couple of unorthodox packaging options.  Along with the film and soundtrack, Stevens has also teamed up with, friend and illustrator, Stephen Halker to create a 40-page comic book (pictured) and a View-Master reel.  Each of the 7 images on the reel is meant to represent one of the 7 movements from the film/soundtrack.  The comic heroicizes the Hooper Heroes and further explains the symbolism through the following storyline:

“three extra-terrestrial superhero sisters (Botanica, Quantus, and Electress) use hula-hoops to combat the “the Messiah of Civic Projects,” Captain Moses, and his totalitarian social architecture.”

Here are the full details of the packaging options, as well as information regarding an upcoming live performance :

The double-disc album will include the original film on DVD, the original soundtrack on CD, a 40-page booklet (with photos and liner notes), and a stereoscopic image reel (aka View-Master®), created by illustrator Stephen Halker.

The limited edition vinyl is available as a double gatefold and includes the soundtrack on 180-gram vinyl, a large-scale 32-page booklet with liner notes and photographs, and a 40-page Hooper Heroes comic book.

And on October 24, 92YTribeca will host a release party for The BQE. This will include a showing of the film as well as a performance from string quartet Osso (playing selections from Run Rabbit Run), the recently-announced re-imagining of Sufjan’s Enjoy Your Rabbit. Roberto C. Lange (aka Helado Negro) will DJ.

{Tickets are only $12.  CLICK HERE to check for availability.}

Based on a recommendation from my friend Benny “P” (The Punks), I made sure to get to Neumos early enough to catch the opening act, WOODS.  When we got there, the members of DUNGEN were out front talking casually to some fans.  Sean Prince noticed a friend of his and, after they spoke for a moment, we discovered that there was a third band, which was playing before WOODS, and that this friend, Justin Shwartz, was in it.

BRAWLEY BANKS

Brawley Banks was six members deep; covering bass, drums, keys, and 3 guitars.  They sauntered out onto the stage, somewhat lackadaisically.  At first site, they didn’t exactly scream confidence, but I wouldn’t necessarily say that they came across as “nervous” either.  If there was any unsureness on their part, I would attribute it to performing in an opening slot on an unfamiliar stage.  A few things seemed off with the sound.  The levels were a bit uneven and Shwartz’s vocals were far too quiet.  The venue’s sound engineer slowly made the necessary adjustments but, even with a less than perfect take-off, it was immediately clear that the band would provide a set worth listening too.  The keys, mixed with the chunky riffs and use of guitar slide, provided Brawley Banks with a dirty Southern Rock sound.  Although I think that it is more than unfair to equate them to a band like The Black Crowes, it is hard to find a widely accessible analogy to describe the sometimes raunchiness of the guitar work, swirled with the soaring notes of a baptist church organ.  Once the mics picked up, the sextet actually displayed some nice Grateful Dead style harmonies.  Another aspect that was impossible to ignore was the thundering strikes and cymbal crashes from their drummer.  Even the rest of the group seemed to look back towards him as a regular reference.  It wasn’t too surprising to later discover that the man behind the kit was none other than William Goldsmith, from Sunny Day Real Estate and early Foo Fighters fame.

It seems as if they haven’t been performing as a group for too long, which may have been forcing them to make more of a conscious effort to play with each other.  Whether that was true or not, they still sounded surprisingly good and were clearly each experienced musicians separately.  The “surprising” part was that I have fallen prey to the expection of opening bands being disappointing.  One of the main reasons that it would be unlikely for me to write for a local publication, like SOUND Magazine, is because they’re in the business of sucking every local acts dick and dousing their derivative and overly processed tripe in sugary coating.  I understand that the priority is to hype local acts and say encouraging things about them, but the only reason that I write anything ever is because I just didn’t believe anything that I was reading.  I always want to be able to embrace the openers and shower them with praise but, most of the time, they’re not even worth mentioning.  Brawley Banks is a good band and, although the crowd was not huge, everyone that was in attendance was forced to pay attention and acknowledge their performance.  Their sound offered up some familiar elements, but they didn’t come across as being contrived or overly forced.  Eventually, I realized that any lack of “stage presence” or awkwardness that I may have sensed was stemming from Brawley Banks just not giving a fuck about image and placing their focus on the music, the way that they should be.  I also realized why I was having trouble getting into so many other small-time local bands.  It was because they were focusing on their fancy images and stage presence, instead of creating listenable music as THEY should be.  Their set was extremely short, but it was long enough for the group to make an impression and set the tone for the evening.  All too often, the most effective thing about an opener is that they set the crowd up to be blood thirsty mongrels, waiting for the headliners.  This show was different and, since it began on an up note, I was comfortable enjoying the acts as they came and without any anxiety.  It was one of the first times, in a long time, that I didn’t feel the need to kill time getting drunk in a bar waiting for the main act.

WOODS

The crowd size was decent on the floor, but I had noticed that the upper portion of the venue had been closed off for the night.  They clearly didn’t expect an overwhelming turnout and it was fine with me that they were right in their assumption.  I used the gaps in the crowd as an opportunity to maneuver my way up close to the stage before the WOODS set.  Guitarist and lead vocalist, Jeremy Earl, set up on the left,  while Jarvis Taveniere and Kevin Morby handled the rhythm section respectably.  Band member, G. Lucas Crane sat on his calves dead center with his left side to the audience.  He had a suit case with him and a giant pedal board at his knees in front of him.  When he opened the case, it exposed a pile of loose cassette tapes with various day-glo scrawlings across them.  The top-center of the board contained a Big Muff distortion pedal.  On either side were numerous other effects, including a Holy Grail reverb and a couple of Boss pedals.  The lower half of the board was arranged with two big ass, old school tape recorders plugged into a mixer that they were sandwiching.

At first the name “WOODS” didn’t sound like much to me.  I thought that it was  just another random and unrelated word pulled from thin air and chosen to represent an indie band, so as to evoke as little emotion as possible, but I was wrong.  WOODS is actually the most aptly named group that I have come across in quite some time.  Their sound provides the soothing and comfortable feeling of a drinking tea at sunset on the cool porch of a humble, moss covered woodland shack, while, simultaneously, mixing in the spooky uncertainty of howling winds and rabid wolves, strategically circling the same shack at dusk.  The music is both comforting and ominous.  WOODS‘ latest release, Songs of Shame, is a great album and was represented strongly at the performance.  Seeing them live was like breaking through a wood-rotted fence to experience Songs of Shame in 3D, from the seat of a poorly oiled carnival roller coaster.

WOODS combines a solid balance of pop and folk structures with a lo-fi approach and the unrestrained, anti-structure of noise rock.  Jeremy Earl’s solos find him brutally strangling his guitar neck and landing on discordant frets, as if wringing the life from a rusty android goose.  The guitar work circles the tracks like a buzzard over dessert carrion.  Somehow, there is logic in their mix of chaos and imprecision and it works for them.  The potential for the warbling melodies to lose their footing, is remedied by the constant support provided by the static ridden, lo-fi effects.  G. Lucas Crane operated his pedal effects and knobs entirely by hand.  His janky looking mixer was missing it’s knobs and the tape-recorders had the cassette covers removed.  As incense smoke wafting into his face, he leaned over his set up.  He was constantly replacing the tapes and, like with any other DJ set up, he was working the faders to mix the pre-recorded sounds.  Headphones wrapped around Crane’s head horizontally, so that one of the ear pieces covered his mouth and worked as a microphone.  He often appeared to be working frantically, but  it was difficult to hear if he was doing anything at all.  In monitoring his movements, while listeneing closely, his vocal and abstract sound contributions pronounced themselves from the background.  Jarvis Taveniere and Kevin Morby shared duties with the drums and bass.  Mid-set, Morby grabbed the bass from Taveniere and moved out of the way for Jarvis to settle in at the kit with a guitar.  He played the axe while seated and even laid it across the floor tom, beating and manipulating the strings with his sticks.

Everything about the indie quartet seems fragile enough to topple over at any time.  There is so much contradiction and duality in the music that it is often one aspect of the group threatening to weigh down on the other lighter elements and snap them like a twig.  Jason Earl’s voice is probably an acquired taste for most, but I really enjoy it.  His delivery is tinged heavily with the sound of Neil Young, but as if it was placed through a high-pitched Brother Danielson voice modulator.  The instrumentation often mirrors Earl’s cracking voice, as it is both fluid and harmonious, but also diced up with choppy moments.  Imagine the morse code-like flight pattern of a remote control plane that’s running out of batteries, with all of it’s drastic, brief, and sudden dips, drops, and peaks.  With all of their disinterest in orthodox musical approaches, WOODS is still more than a troupe of untalented and gimmicky noise rockers.  In fact, the songs are actually catchy and their sonic madness, traveling echo effects, and experimental chaos all play roles in supporting song structure, not simply in replacing it.  The lo-fi lack of interest in over production works to provide an earnestness, instead of coming across as pretentious as is too often the case.  They differentiate themselves from the electro-noise environment of their hometown, Brooklyn, by transitioning from instrumental psych into songs with delicate folk lyrics floating across static clouds, like a paper boat drifting down a sewer drain.  I recommend checking them out and I enjoyed their set, even more than I may have realized at the time.  Ever since the performance, I’ve had the song “Rain On” burrowed into my fucking skull like a mole cricket.  It’s definitely something that  grows on you.

DUNGEN

In continuance of the “groupings of trees” theme, the name DUNGEN translates from Swedish as “The Grove“.  Front man, Gustav Ejstes is credited with writing all of the music and performing most of the instrumental parts on the album but, by all accounts, DUNGEN is still a 4 piece.  The other members are featured on the studio releases and consistently operate as Ejstes‘ touring band.  A piano bench and keys were brought out and placed center stage.  When the band took the stage, they had a fifth member seated behind a set of congas next to the drum kit.

During set up, I snapped a photo of the set list that was taped to the stage for reference.  Since all of the lyrics and most of the titles are in Swedish, I have a problem remembering the songs by name.  Gustav entered with a huge smile of gratitude, but kept his back to the audience, as he shook a tambourine throughout the opening instrumental track.  It was simply labeled as “Intro” on the setlist and, although it wasn’t the same “Intro” from the Tio Bitar album, it was a great high energy opener that helped to showcase the musicians‘ technical abilities, right off the bat.  After the intro, Gustav picked up an acoustic guitar and prefaced the next tune by stating that it was “Dedicated to Fleet Foxes“.  He further explained that they had had an opportunity to spend some time with them, while in town.  In fact, the percussionist, which would later be referred to as “Josh“, was actually none other than, local troubadour and Fleet Foxes drummer, J. Tillman.  They performed the Summery and melodic psych-folk track “Festival” and followed it up with the track “Bandhagen“.  Ejstes sat for the piano heavy instrumental; his face blocked by his wavy shoulder-length hair.  The song sounded amazing and I was surprised at how flawless everything had been performed up to this point.  Whether or not people feel the constant necessity to remind each other that Ejstes is the “core” of the group, nobody in DUNGEN should be overlooked or ignored.  Their individual versatility and complexity, as well as their overall cohesion and synchronicity as a group, is nothing short of mind-blowing.  The most exciting part was that the show was only getting started.

For the song “Ingenting Aer Sig Likt” (“Nothing is the Same”), Gustav invited the remaining four members of Fleet Foxes to come up and join them.  For the most part, Robin Pecknold just hid himself behind the bass amp, but the rest of the band members grabbed percussive instruments.  It was a jazzy number that really displayed Ejstes‘ piano skills.  He twinkled away and tore up the keys like Fred Rogers on his famous children’s show intro.  The guests left the stage and the next offering “Det Tar Tid” (“It Takes Time“) was introduced as “A Love Song“.  It’s a sultry song tinged with psychedelia and ethereal piano ripples, which would fit right at home in a romantic boat sequence at the end of a ‘70s Bond film.  For “Du Ska Inte Tro Att Det Ordnar Sig” (“You Shouldn’t Expect it to Work Out“), Gustav rose from his seat and grabbed his tambourine again.  Bassist, Mattias Gustavsson, laid down a 70s blues rock rift, which provided a solid foundation for Ejstes vocals and Reine Fiske’s soaring guitar work.  Drummer, Johan Holmegard, provided a heavy back beat, accented with little explosive, Jiffy-Pop drum rolls.

Before the next track, I heard Sean Prince scream out a request of “ABBA!” from the other side of the stage.  About this time, I was also asked to stop shooting photographs by the management.  “Bortglömd” (“Forgotten”/”Neglected“) contains a heavy driving rhythm and crunchy, choppy guitar distortion.  It’s easy to hear the Sabbath influence in DUNGEN’s music, but the sound of this track might be more appropriately likened to stomping on bald, squealing break pads, while traveling through a black whole on your way to smash through a brick wall.  Gustav stomped around and shook like Robert Plant and Reine Fiske held his screaming pick ups towards his speaker cabinet.  His ability to harness every note and control every aspect of, otherwise, unwieldy feedback was amazing.  He had a delicate touch that was hard to ignore and could tweak a high-pitch note through the roof like a Blue Angel, make it stop on a dime, drop it like a busted elevator in an inferno, and reel it back again.  It was as if Fiske could set off a landmine, freeze the shrapnel in mid-air, form the pieces into a bullet, and then shoot it through your face.  His control was ridiculous.  They slowed things down for “Sätt att se” (“Ways to See“), a beautiful and jazzy piano odyssey filled with wispy psych guitar.  Something about the tune reminded me of Dots and Loops-era Stereolab.  The next song was “Mina Damer Och Fasaner” (“My Ladies and Pheasants”) and featured Gustav on flute.  The bassline thumped along like the soundtrack to a mythical army of Orcs marching through a barren wasteland.  Buzzing Eastern guitar painted a landscape of blood red clouds overhead.  It was a dark tune, but whimsical as all get out.  I wouldn’t have been surprised if a fairy or some magic potion spilled from the end of Ejstes‘ flute during his little wind flurries.  Those in attendance were fortunate enough to be treated to an extended jam that doubled the length of the song.  Mattias Gustavsson ran up and down neck of his bass and Johan Holmegard spooled out drum beats like a trash can full of hummingbirds.  If the show was an acid trip, this portion could definitely be considered the peak.  It was like the moment when Robin Williams finally sees the fluorescent putty that everyone’s munching on and has a food fight in the movie Hook.  The jam was part 1970s Dead and part Miles Davis.  Although they ventured into spaced out areas with reckless abandon, every single note and movement seemed logical and transitioned smoothly.  Holmegard simultaneously threw down complicated drum lines while taking tempo cues from Gustav to end the song in percussive lunacy.  The top of my skull had been blown off like a toy rocket and WOODS‘ G. Lucas Crane lovingly screamed, “You Mutha Fuckaz!“  at DUNGEN from the audience.

The drum intro to “Panda” was quickly and easily recognized by the excited crowd.  It was the first DUNGEN song that I had ever heard and it had sucked me into their music immediately.  Holmegard’s drumming continued to mystify me and he effortlessly maintained the driving beat which, in reality, was way more complicated than I had ever realized.  Gustav had, what appeared to be, an electric Gretsch leaning against an amp throughout the night.  The neglected guitar featured a reference to his hip hop roots in the form of a Stones Throw decal.  He picked it up and stated his desire to dedicate the next song to their US tour manager, Chris Newmyer.  He followed that up by saying,  “It’s nice to play music in another language.  People have their own.” and then asked Newmyer to remind him of the English phrase that he substitutes when singing along to the title track from their Ta Det Lungt album.  Apparently it was “Play With Balls” and, every time that they reached the chorus, Gustav Ejstes actually screamed the words “PLAY WITH BALLS!” in it’s place.  Mattias, who was singing along from the bass, clearly didn’t know that Ejstes was going to do that, so he laughed and stumbled through his vocals.  As the song progressed and he realized that he was going to be forced to stand in representation of scrotal manhandling until the song was over, he looked more and more uncomfortable.  The members from WOODS roared with laughter and, when the music finally ceased, Newmyer stepped up to the piano and left two $20 bills on it, as if it was payment for the antic.  Gustav crinkled the bills under his nose like he was savoring them and Mattias just said, “I should have some of that money too.“  They played one more jazzy piano tune, “Målerås finest“, before announcing that their “last song of the tour” would be “Fredag” and inviting the members of WOODS and Fleet Foxes to come back on stage and join them.  They crowded onto the stage and Gustav thanked everyone for coming out to the final show of their “Fuck Yeah Tour 2009“.  J. Tillman had left the stage during “Panda“, but Ejstes only just realized it and began screaming, “Where’s Josh?!  Where the fuck is Josh?!“  Once everyone was ready, they finished off the night with a percussion-filled extravaganza, and left the stage.  Mattias Gustavsson pointed a camera at the audience and prompted, “Get together.  I want to get you all in this.“  He later returned to quiet the screams for an encore by apologizing and explaining that Esjstes could not continue due to a current health issue.  “Seriously… seriously…seriously.  Gustav is fucked up inside.”

It’s a rarity for me, but I found the entire show to be captivating and packed with substance.  The combination of the WOODS and DUNGEN sets made me feel like I was at an incredible and amazing house party, minus the irritation of pretentious activists and the standard, drunken hipster in the obscure amusement park sweatshirt gratuitously macking on uncomfortable college girls.  The majority of DUNGEN’s set was comprised of songs from their most recent album, 4 .  Although it hadn’t resonated with me as much as the previous efforts, the show was so great that I’ve gone back a rediscovered much of it’s material with fresh ears.  Their jazz sensibilities were more pronounced than I had expected and were admirably fused with the Prog, Psych, Folk, and Rock elements.  I ran into my friend Josh, towards the end of the show and we both expressed our awe and satisfaction of the show quality to each other.  He mentioned that, after seeing DUNGEN perform two years ago, he half-assumed that they would have reached some sort of Zeppelin status by now.  Not that they don’t deserve it or don’t have the live chops, but I just don’t see that happening.  In general, I feel that people have a problem moving beyond the language barrier to give them the chance that they truly deserve.  After I left, Josh also mentioned that he spoke with Reine Fiske, who told him that he had a straight job that he needed to get back to when they returned to Sweden.  Apparently, the sheer appreciation that DUNGEN expresses towards their audiences is derived, at least partially, from the fact that they have somewhat normal lives back home.  They come to the United States and get to become rockstars for 5 weeks, or so, and then it’s over.  One thing is definite; all of the excitement, power, and gratitude that they feel is projected in spades for those brief moments that they get to perform for those who appreciate it.

Although they had formed 10 years earlier, most people, who were musically aware in the 1990s, wouldn’t site their first encounter with the The Flaming Lips‘ music until the release of “She Don’t Use Jelly“, from the 1993 album Transmissions from the Satellite Heart.  Over the next decade or so, The Lips explored some of the most adventurous territories of their careers, both live and in the studio.  However, they primarily vanished from mainstream view and, by all accounts, didn’t really re-enter the grid until Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots (2002).  Although, The Soft Bulletin (1999) was an experimental and personal breakthrough for them, Yoshimi was the first album that really hit the world hard and gained The Lips the commercial success that had eluded them for 20 years.  The album brought them the first of their 3 Grammy wins and, in many ways, the group has been riding the success of the Yoshimi wave ever since.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not claiming that the group has remained dormant; my views are actually quite the opposite.  In fact, in relation to their endless projects, they may have even spread themselves a bit too thin.  After 2 Yoshimi-related EPs [Fight Test and Ego Tripping at the Gates of Hell], The Lips released their next “official” full-length, At War with the Mystics, in 2006.  Since Yoshimi, the group has released their music video chronicle on DVD, were the focus of a successful documentary,  filmed, scored, and released their own feature film, appeared on multiple Hollywood film soundtracks [Spongebob Squarepants, Wedding Crashers, Spider Man 3, etc], appeared on a video game soundtrack, and have collaborated with various other artists on various other projects.  They’ve even had an alley named after them in their home state of Oklahoma, where they hold their annual “March of 1000 Flaming Skeletons” Halloween parade, and even have lent their name and energy to the production of a fucking hotsauce.  In the midst of all of these projects and live shows, it is understandable why the release Mystics could have been lost and diluted for many.  Financially, the album was very “successful”, with the band parting out songs for use in commercials. As a single, unified and artistic project, the release made less of an impact then their previous 2 albums.  Later this month, The Flaming Lips are slated to release a double album, which will, hopefully and temporarily, take the focus off of everything else that they are associated with and put it back onto their studio work.

Embryonic won’t be released until October 13th but, to tide every one over, The Flaming Lips have provided a special thank you to their fans.  Everybody who purchased a ticket for the summer tour was to be provided withspecial little digital Scooby Snacks, which offered them a first look into the upcoming release.  The following was taken directly from the Lips’s official website:

“With every concert ticket bought online, fans will receive a digital EP allowing them to hear new LIPS music before anyone else. The EP will be comprised of three brand new recordings from EMBRYONIC: “Convinced Of The Hex,” “The Impulse,” and “Silver Trembling Hands,” followed by three additional rare B-side tracks selected by the band themselves. That same ticket buyer will also receive an official live LIPS’ digital download bootleg of the show they attend“

A code was to be provided to obtain the downloads but, if the attendees purchased their tickets from another retailer besides Ticketmaster, they may not have received one.  Since we were provided with free passes to the show that we attended, we didn’t receive one either.  However, if you know how to operate the world wide web, you should be able to find them with little issue.  Regardless of what the announcement may have implied, the 6 studio downloads were provided as two different 3-song EPs with separate covers, instead of as a single one 6-song release.

The download featuring the early previews is being referred to as the Embryonic EP, but it’s actual full title is, Songs From the Future Album Embryonic.  The lead off track, “Silver Trembling Hands“, is a vintage psychedelic freak out jam.  The listener is introduced to the track by an extremely brief hand drum and a  jungle style cooing  sound, before kicking immediately into a classic driving tribal beat.  “Trembling Hands” has a very cinematic feel to it, like a Spaghetti Western showdown, and would fit right at home in an ancient woodland Druid ritual or as the score to a mescaline induced dessert trip scene from an Alejandro Jodorowsky film.  As the post-apocalyptic, jungle space chase intensifies, subtle reflections of Joy Division and more overt Janes Addiction “Three Days“-style vocals are swirled into the sonic batter.  Keep in mind that this is only the introduction and build up of the song.  Eventually, the rhythm is pulled back and the bottom drops out into a sultry Curtis Mayfiield/Roberta Flack soul groove for the simpler chorus.  As an introduction to the forthcoming album, this track suggests that The Lips are continuing to try and push themselves in every direction possible and, sometimes, all in one song.

The song “Convinced of the Hex” begins with static blips of restrained feedback and screeching sounds, incoherent vocal mumbles, and a couple of sustained keyboard notes.  A bass-line kicks in and then a fairly straight forward, almost spoken word, vocal cadence is introduced.  Before the first line is even finished, the drum beat takes its role in the orchestrated build up.  It’s at this point in the song that a few things begin to hit me.  The first is that, with the vocal delivery” and strikingly similar drum line, “Convinced of the Hex” has strong undertones of The Beatles‘ “Tomorrow Never Knows” [Revolver].  The next thing that I realize is that, if one song has to be referred to as the “psychedelic” track on this mini-EP, “Hex” would demand the title over the previous track.  While “Trembling Hands” provides the intensity of peaking on an LSD trip at points, this track sustains a consistent weird-out pulse, providing imagery of Austin Powers doing The Batusi at a Love-In.  If I had to describe the song by referencing any other, I would say that it sounds a hell of a lot like Jefferson Airplane’s hallucinogenic classic, “White Rabbit“.  I’m sure that many others will be making that same comparison, if they haven’t already.

Wayne Coyne has always used somewhat of a breathy, strained vocal that seems to bouy just under the surface of the instrumental tracks and effects.  While the first two songs show the singers voice submerged slightly more than usual, “The Impulse” increases that effect and takes the singer to nea  inaudible levels.  Like the first two songs, the third and final track provides an intro, before going into the meat of the song.  “The Impulse” is, primarily, a bass and keyboard smooth jam, with the vocals being heavily morphed through a Roger Troutman style vocoder, providing them with an aquatic affect.  It’s a nice contrast and, although it is dramatic in it’s own way, it provides a much more relaxed balance to the other 2 offerings.

One thing that The Flaming Lips appear to exude is a deep appreciation for their fan base.  The group recently made adjustments and transferred their website but, at least on the old message board, it was not an uncommon occurrence to have direct contact with the band members themselves.  Recently, while reading through a huge Q and A thread between Kliph Scurlock and his fans, I found some comments in which the drummer provided a little insight into the new album and the 3 song EPs.  A board member by the name of “Euan“, inquired about why the particular 3 songs were chosen as the samples from Embryonic and if they actually are fair representations of what’s to come.  Here’s what Scurlock had to say in response:

“They’re sort of random, but sort of not. “Convinced Of The Hex” was one of the first things we did at Steven’s and was the first thing that was fixed up and completed at Tarbox. “Silver Trembling Hands” will probably be the first single (if there is one.) I’m not sure why “The Impulse” was chosen, other than the fact that it’s a nice song. I don’t really think those 3 songs are necessarily representative of the record, but I don’t think any 3 songs could be. For example, there aren’t any other songs with vocoder. But, y’know, it’s 3 songs and, if you like those, there’s a pretty strong chance that you’ll like other songs on the record too.“

In another thread, Kliph also provides some information regarding the songs chosen for the B-Side release:

“UFOs Over Baghdad” is an unfinished outtake from Mystics.

“What Does It Mean” was rejected from the last “Spider-Man” soundtrack.

“Anything You Say Now” was recorded for a movie about mushrooms during the mixing sessions for “Christmas On Mars.“

The idea to release the B-Sides was a smart move by the group because, if for no other reason, it provides a contrast from the new material and reinforces that The Lips are heading into some new directions.  It’s a lot easier to notice when there’s something to compare side by side.  Apparently the song, “Anything You Say Now, I Believe You“,  had been floating around on the band’s Myspace page last year.  It is, essentially,  a simple acoustic folk song at it’s core, but with additional electronic accents and effects to fill out the sound.  It starts with the pump of a heartbeat, while computer bleeps and J. Spaceman style, baptist church organ static simulates the sound of a UFO lift-off in the background.  It’s not a bad track, it’s just very understated, in a Shoegaze meets Folk sort of way.  If you’re interested in the actual film that it was recorded for, it’s called Know Your Mushrooms and is directed by Ronn Mann, the same Mann who made the marijuana documentary Grass.

The fact that “UFOs Over Baghdad” was an outtake from “At War With The Mystics” is not surprising.  Like much of their work from that time, the song has a heavy political focus.  This time the subject matter is about extra-terrestrials landing in the Middle East conflict and bringing love to the people.  The song begins with the traditionally somber trumpet-line of the Military funeral song TAPS, before melding into the plucking of an acoustic guitar.  There are little electronic, futuristic squeaks in this song as well but, for the most part, “UFOs over Baghdad” is a pretty simple alt-folk guitar song with some nice little WILCO-esque piano accenting it.  The last minute and 10 seconds of the song, however, dissipates into twinkling space synthesizer and finishes off with a deep demonic sound.

“What Does it Mean” starts with a slow thumping that sounds a bit like a slightly accelerated bassline from “Psycho Killer“.  What the song really remind me of is something specific that I can’t quite seem to put my finger on.  It has a strong 8o’s New Wave feel to it, but maybe that’s just due to the processed Tears For Fears sound on the vocals and the echo that’s used on them.  Like the other EP, B-Sides has a cohesion of it’s own.  The chorus for “What Does It Mean” is very sing-along friendly and revisits the acoustic guitar-heavy strums of the album’s previous tracks.  Something about the song even has moments that resemble the moody emotional electronica of acts like Everything but the Girl, but also has lighter, more uplifting moments-

Actually, you know what?  This shit is driving me fucking crazy.  I’m just gonna post the MP3 right here in the hopes that someone can tell me what this fucking song is reminding me of, because it’s eating away at me like MRSA.

Of course these EP’s feel like unfinished pieces of work, because that is exactly what they are.  They’re just enough to make the listener intrigued about the new release, but not really enough to give too much away.  There is only so much that one can deduce from 1/6 of  a double album.  My hopes are that there is some REALLY weird shit on Embryonic and even riskier moves made outside of the Lips’ comfort zone.  They have thrown out some references and comparisons to the new work sounding like Miles Davis and, if that’s true, I should be able to hear some Live Evil tracks when this disc comes out.  What we do know, thanks to an interview that Wayne Coyne did with a Swedish publication, is that MGMT and Karen O [Yeah Yeah Yeahs] will be making appearances.

“We have MGMT doing a song with us and we have Karen O from the Yeah Yeah Yeahs doing a couple songs with us,” said Wayne. “For the Karen O tracks, I just called her up in her hotel room and we just did it right over the telephone. It’s pretty absurd.”

Along with that information, the official track-list has also been confirmed as such:

1. “Convinced of the Hex” – 3:56
2. “The Sparrow Looks Up at the Machine” – 4:14
3. “Evil” – 5:38
4. “Aquarius Sabotage” – 2:11
5. “See the Leaves” – 4:24
6. “If” – 2:05
7. “Gemini Syringes” – 3:41
8. “Your Bats” – 2:35
9. “Powerless” – 6:57
10. “The Ego’s Last Stand” – 5:40
11. “I Can Be a Frog” – 2:14
12. “Sagittarius Silver Announcement” – 2:59
13. “Worm Mountain” – 5:21
14. “Scorpio Sword” – 2:02
15. “The Impulse” – 4:06
16. “Silver Trembling Hands” – 3:58
17. “Virgo Self-Esteem Broadcast” – 3:45
18. “Watching the Planets” – 5:16

And here is the offical cover art [photo by George Salisbury]:

If somebody bugs out and contacts me, I will remove these, but I know that a lot of ticket-buyers got fucked over and never received their download codes.  For now, you can use these links:
Songs From the Future Album Embryonic

B-Sides EP

Read our review of the Flaming Lips @ Marymoor Park w/photoset HERE

Think back to the year 1999. There was no war on terror, hope for Al Gore becoming president still existed, and the mp3 revolution was just dawning through Napster (on dial up internet speeds!). It was this year that James Cameron announced that he was to begin working on his next project after Titanic, called Avatar.

A year went by, an election was stolen, countless countdowns were rebroadcasted to death, and all that was released about Avatar was the simple plot synopsis :“In the future, Jake, a paraplegic war veteran, is brought to another planet, Pandora, which is inhabited by the Na’vi, a humanoid race with their own language and culture. Those from Earth find themselves at odds with each other and the local culture.”

Cameron decided to wait until the technology to bring his vision to total fruition existed; I am pretty sure that if he attempted to create the movie using what was available back then, it would have ended up looking like this:

Click here to view the embedded video.

It wasn’t until 2002 when Cameron saw Gollum in The Lord of the Rings, that he felt that the technology was ready to bring his vision to life. Cameron contacted Vincent Pace who he worked with in The Abyss, Titanic, and Aliens of the Deep to develop a new system of recording stereoscopic images (3D for us normal folk), which lead to the development of a system called Fusion 3D which uses a lens that closely resembles the human eye to record information. This technology combined with state of the art Motion Capture technology and a magical array of cameras that allowed James Cameron to manipulate the camera movements live while shooting a scene (when this information gets released in detail in American Cinematographer Magazine I will be sure to break it down for you); which is being hailed as the next big thing since technicolor.

A movie of this size and budget can’t exist without a large beast of marketing and merchandising, and the calm winds that we have had for this film started to pick up in intensity and in the next few months we will be facing category 5 hurricane winds. The first glimpse the public received was a few months ago with a few production stills, building up enthusiasm for the 20 minute comic-con 2009 screening. James and the cast of the film made their rounds on the various panel discussions which with the magic of the internet I will include below:

Click here to view the embedded video.

Click here to view the embedded video.

On August 10th an announcement came out on various internet movie sites (aint-it-cool-news.com, io9.com) announcing that August 21st would be declared Avatar day, and that if you go to the official Avatar web page (which only had the face of one of the Na’vi aliens and a message instructing everyone to stay tuned for more information) on Monday the 17th of August you would be able to register for a special screening of a few scenes of the movie (running about 16 minutes in length). I am not sure if it was part of the hype machine or the studio execs underestimated the public’s hunger to see a glimpse of this movie, but the site went down seconds after the advertised time that the ticket registration went live. Special threads on the Avatar facebook page began to explode in confusion and rage as some poor I.T. guy/girl frantically did whatever internet magic needed to happen to handle the mass amount of traffic that is trying to access their page. Three hours later, the site was up, and people began to register to their local IMAX theater or find out that nothing was available in their area for the screening.

Wave two of the marketing happened two days later when the trailer was released to the public, and for the first time the entire world got to catch a quick glimpse of cinema magic.

Click here to view the embedded video.

In the next few weeks Panasonic will be wheeling around 103″ HDTVs showing clips and the trailer at various public places, and by mid November the toy line should be coming out as well as the video game. When December 18th rolls around, it will be hard to find someone who has not heard of this movie as this Marketing Juggernaut smashes through the walls of every American home like the Kool-Aid man on PCP. Soon audiences of three types will be lining up to see this movie on opening day: The Superfans who have waiting for King James to grace us with another movie, The Zombifans who are going because the tv told them to, and the girlfriends of the other two groups mentioned.

I was lucky enough to live in an area surrounded by IMAX theaters, and easily scored a ticket to the preview. I chose the Seattle Pacific Science Theatre for my preview location and because of all the confusion I arrived to an already formed line an hour before the preview happened. Each theater had two screening times at 6pm and 6:45, people were also in line at this time for the second showing. Time seemed to move quickly, and before I knew it, I was in my seat trying to figure out how to steal my state of the art super 3D glasses that are a huge leap from the old school cardboard ones. The lights dimmed and the entire audience was startled by a six story tall James Cameron explaining what we should expect. No plot or spoilers were to be revealed, and that this was more of a technical demo to show off and give us a lick of frosting off the cake that will be the full movie.

The best way to describe the next 16 minutes is to relate it to going to a strip club and getting a lap dance from six beautiful women and having them vanish as soon as your man parts start to tingle in a special way. The first scene was a quick glimpse of the Human world which quickly moved to Jake Sully (played by Sam Worthington); who plays a soldier who lost the use of his legs and has been confined to a wheel chair and is soon to have his consciousness transferred into a hybrid body of the aliens that live on a planet called Pandora. Eager to walk again in his new body, he clumsily moves around the laboratory in such clarity that you quickly forget you are looking at a computer generated character. The next scenes are composed of beautiful landscapes illuminated in various hues of blue, monsters of different shapes and sizes, and other Na’vi creatures who try to live in harmony with their surroundings. It is very hard to describe what is going on, due to the small glimpses of the movie that do not include any major plot points. From what they showed me, it was very Dances With Wolves like in plot, with the main character joining the natives in which he was sent to kill (at least that is how it felt). In the final scene, Jake must gain control of a winged creature that looks like a cross between a goose and a dragon, which really showed off how the Virtual Camera Technology that Cameron developed will change movies how we know them forever, by seamlessly weaving in, out, and around the action that is taking place.

I really can’t get over the facial expressions and the natural fluid movements of the entirely cg animated sequences. I am also glad to see 3D technology being used to immerse the viewer and not treat them like they are in a cheap ass county fair hunted house ride. As a technical demo, it delivered way more than I anticipated, and I will be working my ass off to get into an advanced screening to be able to review it in it’s entirety. As of right now the hype is totally justified, which is very rare to see in this day and age.

On a balmy, early summer evening, legendary guitarist Sir Richard Bishop and his Freak of Araby Ensemble landed in Seattle to play one of the few remaining dates of his latest US tour.  Though Bishop is a hometown hero, you couldn’t really call him “local”;  Bishop is a lifelong wanderer. In the past two years, he’s dragged his battered acoustic all over Europe opening for Earth, completed a solo tour of Italy and performed with a dance troupe in France.  Earlier this year, he even produced his first film, “God Damn Religion“.  He still finds time to record and, recently released his sixth solo album Freak of Araby [Drag City].  When he drops the ‘Sir’ from his name, Bishop’s day job involves dealing antique occult books and international travel; spending much of his time in India and Southeast Asia. Somehow, in the midst of all of this, he must take the time to write new songs, practice with his Ensemble or, for fuck’s sake, relax.  It’s the productive guys like him who make me feel bad for sitting around watching Netflix on my computer for three hours every Saturday morning.

Here’s a quick rundown about the life of Rick Bishop.  Up until 2007, he’d spent his entire adult life terrorizing the world as a member of enigmatic art-punkers Sun City Girls.  The Girls, made up of Rick, his brother Alan and their friend Charles Gocher, sprung from the Phoenix punk scene in the early Eighties.   They would open for hardcore acts like JFA and Black Flag, often to the disdain of the audience. SCG’s bad rep preceeded them and their live shows were often confrontational affairs, with the band hassling the crowd with lengthy improvised noise excursions, wingnut ramblings and the odd Grateful Dead cover.  They eventually began releasing music on their Cloaven Cassette series, sending cryptic transmissions out to the die-hards who were already emerging from the scene.

I wasn’t aware of Sun City Girls in the 80s.  While they were touring the States, even playing my hometown in ‘86, I was rocking a mullet and listening to Def Leppard.  It wasn’t until I picked up a copy of 1994’s Jacks Creek, the band’s American pioneer-themed radio drama, that I was converted.  The record involved the band spitting grizzled backwoods dialect over the sound of a crackling campfire.  Though humorous, the atmosphere on Jacks Creek was eerie and depressed.  The only “real” music on the album sounded like a marching band, drunkenly, and perhaps even angrily, forcing out off-key, Revolutionary War traditionals.  Although I loved the album, I had to ask myself how a band recording that type of material could survive for almost two decades and continue to exist.

The next album that I picked up was the band’s double-disc epic, Dante’s Disneyland Inferno and my mind was duly blown.  The album was schizo with stylistic changes, sea shanty rhyme schemes, children’s choruses, lite jazz, conspiracy theory lyrics, and bizarre characters.  Plus, it was catchy as HELL.  Unlike the music on Jacks Creek, this album was slick, proving that the band could actually play their instruments when they wanted to.  I became a convert and began the never ending journey of locating as many of their records as I could.  To this day, finding a Sun City Girls LP is the Holy Grail of the record store used bin.  When I do find one, I’ll buy it, even if I already own a copy.

As far as most critics are concerned, the band had already peaked with their 1990 release Torch of the Mystics, a polished recording of 11 dusty, Morricone-style instrumentals, steeped in eastern mystical atmospherics.  The songs showcased Rick’s developing technical ability, allowing him to flash the guitar skills he’d been honing since the band’s primordial stage.   On Mystics, Rick’s guitar sounded as if Django Reinhardt had been resurrected through black magic to score a spaghetti western.  Albums like this helped add to the band’s growing mystique.  For the next 17 years, Rick, Alan and Charles continued to travel the world and melt minds, both live and on wax.

One of my favorite concert experiences was seeing SCG around Christmas time in 2003.   The show was at Tacoma, Washington’s Java Jive, a giant tea cup-shaped structure most notable for it’s appearance in the John Hughes flick Say Anything.  The band members crowded onto the cramped stage.  Alan was wearing a rubber Saddam Hussein mask and doling out gifts to the audience (mine was a set of orange skull party lights that never worked).  After the gift giving, Saddam treated us to a Sun Ra-style free form keyboard introduction.  The rest of the band slunk onstage with their faces covered by beaded cloth veils.  Rick picked up the guitar and Charles situated himself behind the drums.  As Alan removed the mask, the band launched into a faithful rendition of Bloodstone’s seventies doo-wop hit “Natural High“.  Alan was crooning “I’m gonna fly to the skyyy...” while Rick and Charles bopped along, harmonizing the chorus like it was no big thing.  After a couple of cuts form Mystics and a hectic, improv rock freakout, that left the band with a total five strings between them, the band took another left turn.  They played an insane cover of “Tell Me Something Good“,  with Alan shrieking the lyrics ,while Rick held down the song’s ridiculous disco riff in whatever key he could muster.  After the show, the band kindly chatted with fans, discussing future plans and new projects on the burner.

In 2004, I saw SCG at Seattle’s Bumbershoot festival.  This time, the trio performed at the Sky Church in Paul Allen’s EMP.    The venue is a ridiculous, overblown theater with million dollar laser lighting and video back drops.  The crowd was mostly college kids, leathery baby boomers and kabob-chomping regulars.  Onstage, Rick hammered at a slide guitar with a drumstick, sending horrifying feedback bursts into the wincing audience.  Alan, wearing an XXXL Osama Bin Laden t-shirt, held a golf club high above his head, swinging it downward to smack practice balls at the festival goers.  The wizened Gocher, always dapper in a worn-in suit, shuffled his drums and gurgled unintelligible commentary into the microphone.   As the audience became increasingly unnerved, the band continued to taunt.  As Alan peeled bananas, he would screamed, “Suck another dick!” before hurling them into the confused crowd.  All this was occurring while Paul Allen’s U2-style laser show bullshit blazed behind them.  If you can, try to Imagine the confusion as attendees filed out of the room, wiping banana off of their cargo shorts, and shaking their heads as they searched the program brochure for Liz Phair’s start time.

Not too long after that show, The Girls‘ chemistry was irretrievably altered when Gocher passed away after a battle with cancer.  After completing a tribute to Gocher, with their Brothers Unconnected tour, Rick and Alan broke up the band and moved on to other projects.  Alan releases the occasional solo album as “Alvarius B.” and continues to run his Sublime Frequencies label, specializing in rare music from the Middle East and Southeast Asia. Somewhere in the middle of all this, Rick began touring on his own, showing up at Eagles Halls and opening for metal bands, by sitting alone on a folding chair and staring at his shoes as he tears through improvised acoustic guitar ragas.  Rick’s solo work as Sir Richard Bishop differs from his output with Sun City Girls.  For the most part, Sir Richard sticks to unaccompanied acoustic guitar pieces.  Some improvisational and some that he’s composed himself, occasionally mixing it up with a piano piece or electronic dirge.

The new album, Freak of Araby, is Rick’s homage to the late Egyptian guitarist Omar Khorshid, who’s music has influenced Rick and who also shares a similar playing style.  Re-electrified, Rick has returned to the semi-hollowbody that he used in Sun City Girls.  It is also the first Sir Richard Bishop album to feature other musicians.  Rick’s ensemble provides simple bass and percussion rhythms that flesh out the collection of eastern Khorshid favorites, and Bishop originals.  The songs are delivered with respectful restraint, as Bishop stays faithful to Khorshid’s source material, and avoids entry into the unhinged territory of his former band.  Listening to the record is like being transported to a cafe in a desert oasis; hashish haze hanging in the air.  This effect is enhanced if you actually have your own hashish, when listening to it.

On the night of the show at the, recently reopened, Crocodile Cafe, Bishop was greeted by friends, family and a crowd of well-wishers.  While sitting outside, pre-show, I sipped a High Life and eavesdropped on Alan telling stories about the recently wrapped Sublime Frequencies tour.  I cruised the merch table, but I already owned all of the records for sale and the only t-shirt size left was small.  Unable to continue paying $5 a cup, I left for awhile, hitting the corner store for a tall boy and drinking it out in the van.  Show openers Oaxacan, who are also acting as Rick’s touring version of the ensemble, may have played during this time, but I have no idea.  I headed back inside just in time to see Sir Richard setting up.

Bishop began the set with “Taqasim for Omar” a solo guitar piece written for Khorshid.  Soon the Freak of Araby Ensemble, which consisted of a drummer, percussionist and a bassist, launched into a never-ending eastern backbeat.  They blended each song into the next, while Bishop’s elegant playing hovered above the sultry rhythm.  The audience happily bobbed their heads and held their PBR cans aloft.  I wandered around taking pictures, while sweating out my buzz.  From within the recesses of the Crocodile, Alan yelled at his brother to ‘”Get a job!“  Throughout the set,  Bishop stuck rigidly to the material from his new record.  The audience danced and clapped along to “Enti Omri“, a funky Egyptian standard, as Bishop ripped scales up and down the neck with the Ensemble grooving behind him.  Even while improvising the Maiden-worthy solos on “Essaouira“, Bishop kept things relatively mellow.  He did not seem to use any of the many effects pedals beneath his feet, leaving the vibe of Khorshid’s songs intact.  Hearing the tracks live and amped-out, gave me a new appreciation for the late Egyptian guitarist as well as for Bishop, who seemed to channel Khorshid through his axe.

Sir Richard and the Freak Araby Ensemble played just about every song from the new album, excluding “Blood-Stained Sands“, possibly due to a shortage of woodwinds.  Near the end of the fairly short set, Bishop thwacked at his guitar, creating the kind of fierce noise damage he’s capable of slaughtering a room with.  For a moment, it seemed that the Ensemble was about to head into dangerous improvisational turf.  I wanted them to go there, but to be too loose would destroy the mood and the band ended their set gently.  “No encores“, Bishop tells the crowd, “there are parties to attend.” As much as I enjoyed myself, I couldn’t help but miss Saddam Hussein and his crazy keyboard, the golf ball assaults,  and the overall weirdness of Sun City Girls.  Then again,  the fact that Bishop, who could just as easily play “Fleur De Lys” as “Radar Love“, has chosen to master Egyptian traditional music, is probably weird enough.

-J.Brogger