[Photos] Woods, MMOSS, and Gangly Youth – Zanzabar, Louisville – 4.22.12
Woods and My Morning Jacket actually have something significant in common – both bands transcend the DMZ between indie rock and jam band culture. The former scence tends to eschew the latter scene, while the latter’s crowd is just ‘like, whatever man.’ My Morning Jacket earned, through both pragmatism and providence, the distinction of serving as the world’s only indie-friendly jam band. Woods, meanwhile, acts as the only artist fully within more elitist indie/punk/psych/noise realms that blatantly embraces the tackiest of hippiedom – burning incense on stage, overt marijuana references, and unfettered guitar noodling. In many ways, Woods offers a benchmark on how to be the type of free-wheelin’, nature lovin’ vagabonds that translates well with the Burning Man crowd while simultaneously speaking to the chin-scratching, art wankin’ sect. I greatly admire this.
More importantly, Woods summons one of the most dynamic and bizarre live band dynamics you’re likely to see on stage. Combine a bionic-looking analog tape maestro with an acoustic Neil Young-devotee and a band of noisemakers, and you get the sense that Woods is on that kryptonite. Friendship and fellowship all up in this motherfucker.
As remarkable as their live show was, Vermont’s kraut-cum’-’60s sunny and tripped out electric folk juggernaut MMOSS stole the show. I can’t conjure the words that do their live show justice. Imagine if Altered States was a happier premise, and you’d find yourself somewhere within the quadrant of MMOSS’ headspace. Check out their Bandcamp, and please go see them if the band plays your city. Ridiculously meditative. Unfortunately, I missed locals Gangly Youth, but since they booked the show, and many people in town with opinions I respect dig on ‘em, I’d like to point you toward their digital jams via The Facebooks. We’ve got a good thing going in town, and the fact that Zanzabar filled up and got pumped for some bucolic galacticism on a Sunday night speaks volumes. I sincerely hope all these bands come back and play weekly, and they sell a thousand LPs and comfy T-shirts on each visit. My MMOSS shirt is comfy as hell too.
[Photos] Bear In Heaven and Blouse – Zanzabar, Louisville – 4.20.12
I caught Bear in Heaven twice in 2010 in support of an album I was quite fond of, Beast Rest Forth Mouth – once at SXSW 2010, and once at a show my old blog The Decibel Tolls presented with the art space Land of Tomorrow later that year, the latter replete with the extra echo effect a gallery allows. Both shows offered sonically potent performances and epilepsy-inducing strobes. But the band’s performance at Zanzabar was an entirely different beast. While I don’t like I Love You It’s Cool as much as the previous effort, their live show has become transcendant. It’s hard to put my finger on why this evening was exponentially more spectacular. The more elaborate light show had little to do with it, though I’m a huge fan of visual presentation in live performance. Bear in Heaven seems to possess a different cadence, and an abundance of confidence, that’s entirely new on this tour. The band is more commanding while also more playful live. On stage, vocalist John Philpot is one of the most amicable frontmen in indie rock. Off stage, Adam and Joe were equally friendly and interactive with audience members – something I hadn’t seen as much at previous shows.
Perhaps the band is now finding a stride and level of comfort they’d not had before. Actually, I’d say that’s exactly what it is. You can’t harness the power and excitement of an amphitheater-level show in a small club without both. They did just that at Zanzabar. The bodacious homeboys offered up a slathering of jams from both the sophomore effect and the latest, sprinkling extra bombasticity in the latter’s “Sinful Nature” and “Idle Heart.” While not yet something you could call a “crowd pleaser,” you certainly determined the separation between casual listener and loyal fan when the band employed their fucking amazing 8-minute cover of Lindstrom’s “Lovesick” near the end of the show. And of course, speaking of lovesick, “Lovesick Teenagers” actually caused Zbar’s floor to buckle a bit under the way of excitable fist-pumping and rhythmic, synchronized crowd hopping. Louisville audiences tend to act to reserved during shows, but Bear in Heaven fucked that notion up big time. The dudes are in Europe for the rest of the month, so for our EU friends, peep the upcoming dates – I stand behind this show once again. Go see ‘em.
Oh shit, almost forgot. Blouse ruled. I’d only dropped in to some of their aural meditations here and there, but the live act evokes only the finest in classic 4AD-inspired dream pop. Also not to be missed.
Tar Heel Bummer
What happened in North Carolina last night, the passage of Amendment One, is incredibly sad for a variety of reasons. North Carolina fosters some of the most creative and progressive communities in the Southeast. North Carolina offers one of the few consistently attractive hotspots for young professionals, as the Research Triangle has been pretty much impervious to the recession. North Carolina has amazing nature, coastline, and might just host the coolest festival in the country right now (Hopscotch). Not to mention, there are some phenomenal people there doing important work (too many to link to). North Carolina is really one of the most awesome places on the east coast. But like most places in every region of this nation, the political currency is almost exclusively owned by the old and selfish, so things like Amendent One get introduced on the ballot, and when young people don’t go out and vote in the primary, it passes and the 14th Amendment gets the finger. And that sucks.
With all social setbacks like this, of course, comes opportunities to enact positive change, and there are many ways to do that. But there are also ways not to do that. Of the latter, this is for the artists. Remember Sound Strike? It was the generally well-intentioned but poorly-conceived artist and musician boycott of the state of Arizona in response to the discriminating and draconian SB 1070 measure. While it’s certainly a positive force when agents of influence become civically engaged, particularly when they can persuade the non-political to get involved, Sound Strike was (and continues to be) practically worthless. First, when the founder, Zach de la Rocha, names his band Rage Against The Machine, then signs to Epic Records (subsidiary of Sony/BMG), performs on the AT&T Stage on the mega-corporate Lollapalooza, and uses Fender equipment manufactured in Scottsdale, AZ… well, I’ll let you try to reconcile that one. More importantly, artist boycotts apply no political pressure. The people who enact the type of legislation like SB 1070 in Arizona or vote in favor of initiatives like Amendment One in North Carolina give zero (0) shits whether or not your band performs in their state. They care about their pocketbooks and the dictates of their selective interpretation of the Bible, and that’s about it. The only people hurt by these types of boycotts are those who support music and art, as those who create, engage in, and enjoy this type of human expression tend to be against institutional oppression. In North Carolina, 40% still voted against Amendment One, and I’d wager that everyone who attends your band’s show (unless you’re DC Talk I guess) who voted checked “no” on Amendment One. I’d also wager that much more than 40% in North Carolina have no issues with allowing homosexual couples the same rights as heterosexuals – they just remained silent because, let’s face it, there’s not much incentive to vote in a primary at this point, which is always an unfortunate attitude but a political reality.
If you’re (correctly) outraged at the passage of Amendment One though, instead of misplacing your frustrations within an ineffective and misdirected boycott, how about starting here? Or better yet, contact North Carolina-based businesses that wield political power in the state? Sure sure, corporations can be slimy motherfuckers, but when their customer base is pissed, they’ll tend to listen. Just a couple months ago, “pro-family advocacy group” One Million Moms called for a boycott of JC Penney unless the Texas-based (Texas!) retail chain dropped Ellen Degeneres as their newest spokesperson. People generally like Ellen a lot, so JC Penney was all like “nah, we’re cool,” and One Million Moms, which is more or less One Million Meddling Neighbors, dropped the boycott threat. That sent a strong message. Something like that could happen in North Carolina if people both within and outside the state banded together behind the cause of pressuring the immediate appeal of Amendment One. So artists, musicians, fan, and anyone with a conscience – let’s conceptualize ways to go a more strategic and effective route to catalyze positive and progressive social change, and let Mr. de la Rocha count his money and sit the fuck out this round.
R.I.P. MCA
While Beastie Boys offered a great introduction to hip-hop for most people my age (not to mention the soundtrack to most parties), their punk catalog is kinda incredible and underrated. The Pollywog Stew EP in its entire is above. Crank it loud, it’s some of the coolest shit ever laid to tape.
Also don’t forget that MCA was involved in many humanitarian causes, such as Habitat For Humanity and Free Tibet. If you’ve been on the fence about giving, today might not be a bad day to open your heart and wallet, nawmean?
Time Once Again For Louisville’s Biggest Weekend of The Year
As you may or may not know, this is a huge weekend for us here in Louisville, and the excitement is palpable. I think you know what I’m talking about. That’s right… the Supermoon!
The Supermoon, sometimes also referred to as the ‘Flower Moon’ and the ‘Milk Moon,’ is the phenomenon in which the moon’s perigee, its closest approach to Earth (221,802 miles to be exact), coincides with a full moon phase, resulting in an usually large and bright moon. It’s a spectacular sight for skywatchers and armchair astronomers, and the Supermoon officially begins this Saturday at 11:35 p.m. EDT. It fucking rules, and since there’s nothing else going on in town, you have plenty of time to prepare. Throw a party! Make some ‘moon pies‘ (mmm boy)! And first person to find a Mac Tonight costume to wear wins all the Pokemons.
Distonal Film School: Ingmar Bergman’s Persona
Welcome to the Distonal Film School. Every two weeks we’ll recommend a film and give you four reasons why we consider it to be essential viewing. Our goal is to offer up the kind of visual curriculum and associated reading that you would experience at an actual film school, along with drink/music parings. If you watch all of the films for six months, we promise that your knowledge of cinema will rank right up there with the average film studies graduate – and you can do it all without spending tens of thousands of dollars. The best way, in our opinion, to participate in the Distonal Film School is to create your own film group. Watch and discuss these recommended films amongst a tight group of friends with an equal thirst for cinema, and feel free to bring your discussions back here to Distonal.
PERSONA
1.) You should see a master filmmaker’s best work.
It’s legendary filmmaker Ingmar Bergman’s most important film, and I say that fully acknowledging Wild Strawberries and The Seventh Seal as masterpieces. It’s quite preferential, but Persona takes the examination of psyche to untouched abstract levels that edge out his success with tackling religion (Seventh Seal) or nostalgia (Wild Strawberries).
At some time or other, I said that Persona saved my life—that is no exaggeration. If I had not found the strength to make that film, I would probably have been all washed up. One significant point: for the first time I did not care in the least whether the result would be a commercial success – Ingmar Bergman
2.) It has the most artistically erotic scene in film history.
It’s ironic that Persona is often referred to as “a victory over sound” because the most erotic scene in film history unfolds primarily through audio accompanied by shot-reverse-shot simplicity of one character telling a sensual story while the other sits patiently and listens. To convey such vivid sexual sensation without any visual accompaniment demonstrates the genius of Bergman both as a writer and as a filmmaker. He chooses to let the audience members imagine their own version of the sexual encounter rather than simply sketch out his own image of the story, and it’s a brilliant choice.
By telling rather than showing, then, Bergman has been able to tell and show. Bergman lets Alma’s telling provide a sort of virtual flashback, while he also creates a ripening interchange between characters in the present. Instead of simply sandwiching fragments of the past into the present action, he has built up two smooth arcs of action, one that we imagine and one that is set before us in precise detail, with its own emotional modulation. The bliss of the past events is refracted through the pain of telling them. – David Bordwell
3.) It will make you hate Fight Club.
I had seen Persona a few years before Fight Club and I was the only person in the group of five or six friends who hated the film. I found it a blatant and watered down rip off of Persona. From the general theme of split personalities and identity, to small details like a penis spliced into a cartoon (happens in the opening scene of Persona) Fight Club owes almost everything to Persona. Fight Club is about eye candy, large scale dramatics driven by voice over narration to carry a sloppy screenplay, and a surface level examination of identity. Persona outdoes Fight Club in every area of cinematic achievement and does so with one of the lead characters not speaking a line of dialogue for the majority of the film.
4.) You will suffer forms of agitation.
One of the biggest problems with contemporary American film audiences is that they don’t understand that agitation is a crucial cinematic tool that allows the art form to transcend just being entertainment. Bergman uses the power of cinema to make the viewer uncomfortable, sick, confused, pensive, worried, stressed… pretty much every mindset under the banner of agitation. Audiences should embrace and take note of their agitation and remember that the film is only 85 minutes. It’s a roller coaster of varying emotions and cinematic trauma, but it’s one that you can handle.
The greatest films all possess the same quality – they go beyond simply giving the audience a good time. They challenge our notions of how stories can be told and perceived, and in doing so, these masterpieces are what allow cinema to be referred to as art. The power of the medium comes from the fact that we experience life and its various emotions every day. Humanity, no matter how you think of it or what you choose to do with it, is a universal experience. But the way we perceive that experience is not set in concrete. A truly great film, constructed completely from scratch, can hold up a mirror and challenge or even change these perceptions of humanity. Persona is such a film.
Pair with: Lots of Red Wine
Homework: ‘Persona‘, Susan Sontag, Sight and Sound, Autumn 1967
Listen: The Seduction of Ingmar Bergman (Spotify Playlist)
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Zach Hart is a writer for We Listen For You. He’s been a student of cinema since the age of eight. Hart has a film studies BA from the University of California Santa Barbara and a screenwriting MFA from Northwestern University. |
You Can Get With This…
The player formerly known as Ron Artest has done it again. The man of 14 prior NBA suspensions who famously thanked his psychiatrist when he lifted the Lakers over the Celtics in game seven of the 2010 NBA Finals reminded us all what’s in a name. Though he is now known as Metta World Peace, a Ron-Ron by any other name is still as bitter. The catalyst behind what will forever be known as “The Malice in the Palace” proved to a national television audience and millions more through the magic of the viral video that he will probably never live up to the lofty ideals that his new moniker has created.
After an emphatic slam dunk against the Oklahoma City Thunder, World Peace was absolutely feeling himself and let loose a razor sharp elbow that connected squarely on the jaw of the NBA’s original blipster, James Harden. The elbow was not in the midst of hauling in a rebound or going for a loose ball, but instead a malicious dead-ball blow to the young Thunder scorer that left him with a concussion and World Peace with a seven-game suspension. That suspension will at least hold him out of the Lakers’ first round playoff series against the Denver Nuggets, and perhaps bleed into the Lake Show’s second round playoff series if they are able to defeat Denver and move on in the Western Conference Playoffs.
So the debate began last week and continues throughout many a discussion of the 2012 Playoffs: Is the suspension long enough? What does this tell us about head injuries in the world of sports? Just exactly how loose is the screw in Ron-Ron’s brain? What can we learn about physicality in the NBA moving forward from this very atavistic moment in the NBA’s shortened 2011-2012 season?
For me, the answer to all of these questions is a lesson in cognitive dissonance. As a Laker fan and a kid who grew up in the 1980′s, the play doesn’t bother me as much as it does many within and without the sports media. After all, this is the same NBA that saw Kevin McHale nearly decapitate Kurt Rambis, Kermit Washington cold-cock Rudy T, and the same league that stood by as the Detroit Pistons and other teams employed the “Jordan Rules“, where letting the league’s all-time greatest player get a basket in the lane without feeling the physical repercussions was not an option. More recently, it is also the league where Ron himself incited the aforementioned near-riot in the Palace of Auburn Hills and Robert Horry looked like he had skates strapped on instead of some flashy sneakers when he hip-checked an already bloodied Steve Nash into the scorers’ table when the Spurs met the Suns in a playoff series.
However, as a conscientious bleeding-heart liberal and backroom pacifist, I find the play completely unnecessary and abhorrent in all ways. It’s a clear example of what happens when one of the league’s strongest players loses a cool that he never really had and puts his particularly unstable stamp on a basketball game. With these two clearly opposing views in mind, I both love and hate what World Peace did to James Harden. The old-schooler and Laker fan in me says to himself, “that’s what the fuck I’m talking about.” The new-school head injury hawk says to himself, “that is absolutely despicable behavior that cannot be condoned.” The Laker fan in me says what World Peace did is what happens when a physical player gets caught up in the moment and sends a message to the surging Thunder about who the real kings of the NBA’s Western Conference are. The softy modern sports fan in me says the guy should miss the entirety of the playoffs to learn that this sort of play is not a part of the new NBA.
At the end of the day, I’m completely comfortable with the seven-game suspension that the “Angel of Stern” levied against World Peace, but also completely comfortable with the act itself. I want my team’s top defender and mentally uneven enforcer to strike fear into the heart of his opponent and remind everyone that the purple and gold, while still firmly seated in the camera flash of Los Angeles, is anything but soft. At the same time, I agree he had to be punished harshly for his act and will not grit my teeth as he misses out on the first round of the playoffs and beyond.
It’s the kind of mental gymnastics that have to be done over and over in the world we live in. I’m a liberal, but don’t buy into the apologetic and obsequious vein that now runs through many in the left. I’m all for equality, but still relish the punchline of a controversial joke. I’m disquieted by a world of processed food, but still knock back a bag of Doritos in a blink. I seek balance, and instead of beating myself up over the struggle for mental stability, I recognize the humanity in my opposing viewpoints.
As E-40 might say, “I’m an old-schooler and a new-comer.”
Nothing in life is ever black and white, and Ron Artest a.k.a. Metta World Peace is a reminder of the fact that within society’s shades of gray lay violence, anger, unease, and indecision, but also pride, determination, competitiveness, and maybe, just maybe, righteousness. The difference between Metta and Ron is the difference between Jay-Z and Shawn Carter, is the difference between Barack and Barry Obama, is the difference between public persona and the person at the heart of that construction, is the difference between what we want to be and what we truly are. You can get your Mr. Kurtz on all you want and talk about “the horror, the horror“, but we all know that the more unseemly parts of the human character are always just below the surface. You can wrap your heart of darkness in a blanket of softy sensibility, but it’s still there, beating all along.
Better to nod your head to that biological rhythm and still let your brain do its thing, because trying to do one or the other will leave you seeing a team of shrinks that even Metta World Peace, née Ron Artest, would be proud to call his own.
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Bo Jackson’s Hip has been doing cool columns about sportball since 2008, all for little or no money. He continues to write for little or no money after coming to Distonal. He is the most #based of sports writers, so we’re glad to have him. Bo Jackson’s Hip resides in Louisville, KY and has been known to DJ cuts that catalyze booty claps, real talk. Bo knows, Bo Jackson’s Hip knows more. |
What We Talk About When We Talk About The Forecastle Lineup
Full disclosure: I write for Consequence of Sound, whom is presenting the festival this year. Also, I live in Louisville and love to see an eclectic gathering of live music. So I guess take my opinion with a grain of salt? Who likes salt, show of hands?! Also, headline credit to We Listen For You.
Just outta the gate, to establish the tone of the article, ya’ll funny as hell.
When Forecastle announced its lineup a few weeks ago, the reaction was inherently hilarious. First, the criticisms were unfounded, and secondly, the dialogue surrounding said haters was viscerally absurd.
Any given comment within the thread on the Forecastle poster featuring the initial lineup via Facebook falls in one of three camps:
• butthurt over the lineup
• absurd conversation regarding said butthurt
• people posting “wick it! wick it!” over and over again (I don’t know who Wick-It Tha Instagater is, I guess he has won hearts and mind)
First, let’s address the haters.
In the months leading up to Forecastle, the good captains behind the festival’s social networks and subsequent press releases built up a rather profound hype by promising a very special event for the 10th anniversary of this homegrown shindig – one that grew from a small local gathering in The Highland’s Tyler Park to a 30,000 attendance blowout at Louisville’s Waterfront Park in 2010 headlined by The Flaming Lips. Due in part to a change in hands between Cincinnati-based Nederlander Entertainment – who helped program, promote, and provide administrative assistance for Forecastle the past few years – and the mighty AC Entertainment, Forecastle “proper” did not happen in 2011. Instead, we got Halfway To Forecastle, a one day event with some household names like Big Boi, Twin Shadow, and RJD2. This was marketed, in part, as the “hold over” for a bigger and more badass return of Forecastle Festival in 2012.
The anticipation was palpable.
The first big press announcement came in January, followed by a series of other media events that, at times, were a little superfluous. I certainly clowned on Forecastle’s approach at times. Oh, they’re having a launch party for their poster, that’s cute. Oh, My Morning Jacket is headlining, well stop the presses – never thought they’d play here! But after the initial lineup was announced at the end of February, I was impressed… and quickly ceased any and all trolling.
After merging with the aforementioned behemoth AC Entertainment last year, I knew that the festival was going to take on a more prolific identity. For the uninitiated, AC Entertainment is a management and talent buying firm responsible for Bonnaroo, Big Ears Festival, and Moogfest. All these events are world-renowned festivals. And most impressive, company head Ashely Capps keeps it local. He founded his business in Knoxville, Tenn., where it continues to operate, thrive, and throw amazing shows in their own town and beyond. That says a lot to me. When you can easily have, say, Radiohead headline your festival whenever you want, yet you don’t defect to New York or LA in lieu of your roots, it signals that the people who run this business and their various projects tend to have their priorities in the right place. There is no reason to doubt that Forecastle will run in a similar fashion.
As far as local music, Forecastle went hard for Louisville bands. Outside the nationally touring acts, the lineup features a strong presence of local music that cross-pollinates scenes and genres. You get a decent sampler platter of the city’s music, and that rules. Moreover, as opposed to previous years, I feel Forecastle 2012, based on both JK McKnight’s and Ashley Capps’ ethos, will also provide a strong local business presence in the vending sector. When you buy food or drink, chances are that’s coming from a local business. For Louisvillians, that’s keeping money in the community. For out of towners, that’s providing assurance that your money is going toward hard-working families over multi-national corporations, as well as the fact that so many restaurants here are good as hell. That’s a value that the vast majority of music festivals can’t offer, and rumor has it that the lack of local vending was a huge point of contention with past promoters. This type of move would make Forecastle both distinct, character-driven, and socially responsible. Sure, there’s a chance that won’t be the case, but I’d be surprised and willing to eat a metric ton of crow if this turned out to be false. (Please don’t prove me wrong Forecastle, I’m battin’ for ya and I hate crow – it’s stringy and tasteless.)
As for the headliners, I’m at a loss why people are upset. Sure, with all the hype built around Forecastle X, I get that some folks might expect… I dunno, who’s popular with the kids now? Mumford & The Mens? The Incubuses? Chris “Easy Lover” Brown? A Walking Dead version of The Grateful Dead? Regardless of expectations, have a look at the line-up and notice that a) the lineup is comparable with just about any festival in the 30-40,000 attendance range, and b) the lineup features many artists whom have never played Louisville. Pitchfork just announced their final lineup a couple of weeks ago, and many of their headliners are also playing Forecastle – coupled with bands outside the Pitchfork wheelhouse for a more comprehensive appeal. While Pitchfork offers a great festival experience, Forecastle’s lineup is larger and more sweeping, their capacity double, and Waterfront Park is generally nicer than Union Park. Forecastle offers a fierce competition here. Sure, Forecastle isn’t Coachella, but Coachella is an entirely separate entity. Coachella has capital that’s different than Forecastle. That festival serves as the flagship outdoor festival of Southern California, meaning they can risk more on higher guarantees since they’re drawing from a larger population with less competition from surrounding metropolitan areas. Forecastle, on the other hand, is in the heartland and within a day’s drive of countless huge festivals – from Chicago to Nashville to Asheville to Columbus. Shit, even New York and Austin are technically “a day’s drive,” though not one you’d want to do all the time.
So Forecastle must be more resourceful and smarter with how they spend their talent buyer dollars, and for my money, they delivered a hearty lineup sans any holograms. I mean, that ol’ ivy league sack of bones that never tours Dean Wareham is coming, and he’s playing motherfucking Galaxie 500 songs. And Flying Lotus?! You know that dude from Radiohead with the ponytail that’s good at predicting ice ages, Thom Yorke? That’s his favorite fucking artist #realtalk. And holy hell – Atlas Sound, Beach House, Jeff The Brotherhood, Neko Case, Wilco, Zion I… next to the city’s best local talent?! That is a balanced, thoughtful lineup – and it’s not fully announced yet! Bands are constantly announcing touring schedules that include Forecastle even before the festival itself has announced its second round, such as Lower Dens and No Joy just today.
Breaking down the numbers, the level 3 price is now $144. Forecastle has promised something in the neighborhood of 75 acts total over the three days. So according to my abacus, you’re paying $1.92 per act. Not to sound all Sally Struthers, but for less than a cup of coffee, you get a performance from a band that’s gonna go hard to entertain you. Wow, what a ripoff.
It boils down to this. Forecastle just joined the top tier of American music festivals. But for some reason, people in Louisville can’t recognize that because Widespread Panic or a large cache of WFPK-friendly artists aren’t playing or whatever. That’s short-sighted. Read up, and you’ll quickly learn that this is what a summer music festival lineup looks like in 2012. Go to Summer Camp or whatever if this isn’t your bag. This is an awesome lineup, and you can be guaranteed that the festival will offer a comfortable atmosphere with a dedication to local business and the generally funky flavor we appreciate in this part of the country. It’s gonna rule, so 86 the bellyaching and come hang out. Or, since the festival was curated by My Morning Jacket, make sure you tell Jim James everything he likes sucks next time you see him around. Jesus. As for me, you’ll find me in the photo pit fist-pumping to Atlas Sound.
Now some hilarious screen caps. Names have not been redacted because you said it in a public forum, so own it. Oh, and Wick-It, I guess.
[Video] Tortoise’s Douglas McCombs and David Daniell’s Weird Mixology
To take advantage of a food analogy, because food rules, Tortoise is much like the hearty, passed-down-through-the-generations dish your mom or grandmother makes for the holidays. You don’t think about, like, that green bean casserole often throughout the year, but then when you wolf it down you end up kicking yourself for forgetting how it’s the best thing ever. Tortoise doesn’t seem to appear in our daily musical discussion nearly as often as they should. They’ve released some of the most important albums of the past 20 years (including 2004′s It’s All Around You, you haters). As well, the band and their respective members keep recording and putting out forward-thinking material.
Enter the latest project of Tortoise’s Douglas McCombs as he teams up with Rhys Chatham/Fennesz/Thurston Moore collaborator and experimental guitaristDavid Daniell for Versions. The double LP formulates a rather novel take on the concept of improvisation. The first album is a menagerie of aquatic and cosmic explorations culled from the seven hour improv McCombs and Daniell originally recorded for their debut, Sycamore. The tapes in full were then passed off to ex-Tortoise Ken Brown to resample, rearrange, deconstruct, and wholly redefine the sonic trajectory of their original torrent of creative sparks to concoct an entirely different effort. It’s trippy and tasty. The second LP offers two improvised live performances from Knoxville and Montreal, aiming to highlight the difference of riding dark grooves to the edge of the astral plane in both recording studio and live on the stage.
David Daniell and Douglas McCombs’ Versions is out May 15th, priced-to-own, via Thrill Jockey. Check out the amazing Trapper Keeper-esque video for “30265.”
[MP3] Dana Buoy – “Call To Be”
The dream-pop aesthetic tends to embrace the lazy, hazy, and gazey; great for the beach or the bong, but can get tiresome. Dana Buoy, aka Dana Janssen, has crafted a rare form of atmospheric pop with a heavy injection of ginseng. Buoy spent most of his time over the past few years hitting skins for Akron/Family, and as drummers are inclined to do, he appreciates intensity and intricate rhythms. Don’t let the Instagram-y (RIP) album art ,or the title– Summer Bodies– conjure up harsh memories of the regrettable bummer summer we’ve endured since we started feeling it all around in mid-2009. No, ladies and germs, Big D comes equipped with factory-certified new shit. Dana Buoy gets right what so many other artists don’t– resplendent positivity without feeling contrived, internationally-flavored song structures without uncomfortable cultural appropriation, a hippie ethos that’s actually sincere, and aerodynamic, fist pump-inducing melodies without pretension. If you’ve been thrashing to the new joint from Lotus Plaza, turn your feelers toward Dana Buoy as well. You’ll dig. Summer Bodies drops May 8th courtesy of Lefse Records.
For fans of: Panda Bear, Lotus Plaza, Caribou
MP3 :::
Dana Buoy – Call To Be