I can’t imagine Man Man not kicking ass, so needless to say, the show kicked ass. More importantly: before they went on stage and while they set up, Beach Boys’ “Kokomo” played on repeat for about a hundred times, but it was followed by Bobby McFerrin’s “Don’t Worry, Be Happy”, which outdid “Kokomo” by roughly a million more repeats. Funniest was the irresistibility of both tunes: there wasn’t a single person setting up the stage that wasn’t singing along, and of course there were sing-along’s amongst the audience as well. But more convincing were the groans every time the song started fresh after a brief silence. The crowd was wild during Man Man’s set. I’m not sure how I feel about the venue.
If I hadn’t already got Man Man tickets for tomorrow, I’d be certain to go see Christine Fellows at Music Hall of Williamsburg. I’m hoping the city will lure the Canadian at another time. The thickly-layered songs from her 2007’s Nevertheless (especially the opening “Let Us Have Done With The Umbrella Of Our Contagion”) and the rich classical/theatrical roots in her music spell, “We make for a great live show, some see us”.
I didn’t get around to the album when it first came out, or else my November would’ve been that much warmer. Joanna Newsom comparisons are inevitable, but Christine definitely leans towards the more traditional. The two voices roam the same woods, but in the end they leave different impressions. After all, one is an elf and the other simply can’t pass for one. A difference of cosmos.
There is a fresh pop collective on the horizon, from Portland no less, for warmer days that await us. The preview track from Au’s summer record, Verbs, is so tinged with the colors of sand, grass, the sun, parades, and crisp rolling waves, that it can only mean one thing: Behold! Summer Marches Towards Us. The group has announced some tour dates, but these don’t include the east coast yet. However, the album comes out June 26th, so I’m sure we’ll be getting our share of the feast: Verbs was recorded over three days with Luke Wyland pulling in nearly thirty collaborators from the area. Listen to “RR vs. D” — it’s an absolute blast.
There’s bound to be a lot of talk about Vancouver’s No Kids this year. At Mercury Lounge I was certain the stage seemed too modest for the trio, and what the room was witnessing was sure to pale as “humble beginnings” in no time. They played with two sets of keyboards (one Nord Electro, two Yamahas) and a drum set. For such an onslaught of jangly key tones, and by jangly I mean nightmarish purple infused with rainbow swirls, the band packs quite a load of funk. And despite the innocence the big glass rims convey on singer Nick Krgovich’s face, he packs his own brand of tude. I found his dance moves to be a secret door to the music: every flick of his feet and every little angle of twist and lean his upper body made (he didn’t miss a beat) was a complete impression of the music’s imprints. In his moves you could visualize the negative space of the sounds they were creating; yes, if he were a block, you’d slather him with ink and press him against paper to decode the odd songs. It’s hard to tell if they’re being humorous about the R&B/soul/hip-hop flavor or if they’re simply digging it.
It might’ve been a year ago when I first encountered The Dodos at Pete’s Candy Store in Williamsburg. Frontman Meric Long seemed timid, self-conscious and determined. His hair cloaked his face for the most part, and from what I can remember, he barely looked up at the audience from his guitar. But with the accompaniment of a fantastic drummer, Logan Kroeber, the duo delivered that night. I left with pieces of the songs in my head, and an album that stayed on my playlist for months to come.
When I picked up Black Mountain’sIn the Future and asked my friend Lev if he’d heard of the band, his eyes popped in such diameters of familiarity and glee that I had to ask him to write up the review. Says he:
Whether intentionally sarcastic, or accidentally honey-tongued, the title of Black Mountain’s second full-length “In The Future” is a perfectly unfitting title to describe the music contained therein. The opening chords of “Stormy High” teleport you back to the smoke-filled seventies, doused in all of the psychedelic fervor, debauchery, and flower-power that gleamed so bright some-forty-odd years ago. Large doses of whirling organ, fuzzed out Gibson SG’s, and dual vocal harmonies drowned in reverb, undoubtably, and comfortably, place this record alongside some of the dusty vinyl in your dad’s record collection. The album’s song structures stick to such a relentlessly precise formula of combing abrupt moments of energy and drudging meditative breaks that the schizophrenic rhythm of the album sometimes begs for a shorter, more impactive musical delivery. Ultimately, this album will appeal to people either attempting to relive their youth under the guise of the seventies, or those assuming the seventies never ended.
As pedestrians walked past the McNally Robinson book store in Soho, they stumbled a few paces back and forth. Beaming from the other side of the glass front was an engaged throng of faces. They had stuffed themselves into the store’s cafe area, late comers sprawling wherever there was space. Visible to the outsider was the strong back of a woman in a green sweater, whose face, unknown to him, was where all eyes in the room fell. Some bent their head whichever way against the glass until they recognized author Zadie Smith, and a few amongst them had even a point-and-shoot handy. We were monkeys in a zoo, gathered to hear authors Zadie Smith and Gary Shteyngart read from Gregor von Rezzori’s , Memoirs of an Anti-Semite; the novel has been re-issued by New York Review of Books, with an introduction by Deborah Eisenberg that Zadie Smith described as “brilliant”.
New York’s brass outfit Zlatne Uste hosts the annual Golden Festival this weekend, bringing over 50 bands to upper Manhattan in celebration of Balkan brass. The festival starts modestly tonight at The Good Shepherd School from 7:30 PM, resuming the festivities there at 6:00 PM tomorrow, when bands will play three stages till 4 AM. See full schedule.
One of them is Providence’s What Cheer Brigade, who I saw at the center of an enchanted crowd gathered outside the McCarren Pool during last summer’s Man Man show. They will be playing the Auditorium at 3AM. Pictures from that first encounter:
If you missed buying Joanna Newsom tickets, like I did, for her show at BAM with members of Brooklyn Philharmonic, do not despair! Another date has been added the night before: Jan 31 it is, and good seats are still available.
Dec 1 & 2 | 11:00 AM to 5:00PM This weekend, the annual Indie & Small Press Fair will return to General Society Landmark Building at 20 West 44th Street. Different panels will address a variety of interests, including tips for those seeking a literary career (finding the right literary agent, understanding self-publishing), readings from authors published by independent publishers (Indie Press Author Read-A-Thon: Notable Indie Authors Read Their Work), even a literary trivia smackdown between A Public Space and the New York Review of Books, and a discussion of independent culture itself. If last year was any indication, the space gets filled with an overwhelming number of tables making offerings at discounted prices, and for the panels that have caught your attention, you need to get there ahead of time, especially if it takes place later in the day.
When the Roman consul Lucus Anitius gave orders
For the legions to march into the Illyrian heartland
He had not only a chronicler on his war council
But also a double of King Gentius,
Dressed just like him, with painted eye-brows
Most certainly with a false sceptre,
And with a sentence learnt by heart:
“I am Gentius, King of the Illyrians!”
