Tuddd's Muddd

7 Shows, 6 Days, 100+ Alcoholic Beverages, Edibles Galore, a Zip of Insane Upstate Outdoor, and Yes [drumroll pls], A FUCKING SPALDING. [PART I]

   

    [^heheheheh]

    So, recently, I attended 7 show in 6 days, as mentioned above.  Not too shabby a showing, if I do say so myself... in fact, that might actually be a personal record of some sort.  [On that tip, who th' fuck knows / cares.]  Over said 7 shows and 6 days, a ton of bands were seen (including Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Colin Stetson, Harvey Milk, Occultation, Fang Island, Hollerado, Monogold, Goes Cube, Austerity Program, Rosetta, Naam, Liquor Store, Wild Yaks), dangerous amounts of substances were consumed, acquaintances were renewed with old friends, and an unfair amount of fun was had.  Frankly, I have no clue how I managed to avoid getting really sick / throwing my back out / collapsing due to sheer exhaustion throughout this whole debacle because I'M REALLY FUCKING OLD.

    Anyway, deets onward: 

Goes Cube, Austerity Program, Rosetta and Naam at Studio at Webster Hall, Wednesday March 9, 2011

 

• Met up with my buddy Jimmy Dogshit for some booze (including appletinis, an unfortunate tradition of ours) and mediocre burgers at the Pour House.  Our waitress resembled a wholesomer version of British pornstar McKenzie Lee, whose work, coincidentally, I had, er, "enjoyed" just minutes before arriving at the Pour House.  SCHWING!
• Rolled up to Studio towards the end of Naam's set.  Wish I had more to report on these guys (because I've been told they're worthwhile), but sadly I don't.
• Rosetta was up next, and they underscored their reputation as being "the hardest band in the world to mic."  Their set at Santos in January opening up for Kylesa during one of the blizzards really converted me from "casual fan" to "ardent admirer who has no qualms shirking responsibilities to go out and see 'em on a random weeknight."  The sound sucked ass (I know, unusual for a Studio show) but the sweaty performance made up for it.
• Let me tell you, considering this was the first night of a planned HUGE fucking binge, you would think that I would've had the brains to actually take it easy on Night #1 instead of going balls to the wall.  But, as I have terrible judgment and generally do things ass-backwards, I wound up getting fucking SHITFACED.  Greyed out, and although I have no idea exactly how much booze I drank, I do know for a fact that I spent all $100 cash I had on me on booze at the show (mixed drinks were $6, beers were $4, and rock-bottom whiskey shots were also $4, so you do the fucking math), and wound up having to actually card my last two rock-bottom whiskey shots and beers.  And when I got home for some reason I had 7 empty plastic shot glasses in my pocket.  "THESE'LL COME IN HANDY!"  As mentioned earlier, a shabby performance by me this was not. 
• Austerity Program's set was next, and allow me to report (it ain't no secret): the house was thoroughly ROCKED.  They played the entirety of their fucking stellar EP from last year (#9 on last year's Best Albums list) as well as "Song 20" and... uhhhh... was that it?  Fuck, I don't remember, but let me tell ya, it sure makes for great drunken thrashing around.
• Goes Cube finished off the evening with exactly the type of skullfuckingly brutal performance that I've come to expect since I started seeing them live 5 years ago.  [Goddamn, how many times have I seen these guys live?  15?  20?  I'm not in Brooklyn at the time of this writing so I can't consult Tuddd Archives for the answer, but it's somewhere up there.  [edit: apparently it's 15 times, although that assumes that Tuddd Archives is actually accurate, which is highly unlikely.] Shee-itt.]  Anyway, their set drew liberally from what seemed like all of their most recent releases: 2009's Another Day Has Passed LP, last year's 7", the digital recording from Coextinction Recordings, and, of course, their forthcoming LP, In Tides and Drifts (which ain't out yet, but which, of course, I dorkily pre-ordered).  Since Goes Cube singer / guitarist David no longer lives in NYC, I was surprised at how insanely tight their set was, and the great sonics of the Studio space really highlighted Kenny's superb drumming and Matt's nimbly holding down the low end.  Obviously I'm a huge fan of these guys' music, and it was great to hear that this was the brand of fury they'd be truckin' down to SXSW.  RAWK.
• Anyway, tried to spit game with two Norwegian (uh, I think?) chicks post-show / failed miserably / wound up drinking Heinekens in the back of a cab during the ride home.  Woo Fucking Hoo.  Woke up the next morning with a head-splitting hangover (and a vexing case of bangover ta boot). 

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Liquor Store at Death by Audio, Thursday, March 10, 2011

 

Nuff.  Fucking.  Said.

Friday, March 11th: Monogold at Glasslands AND Fang Island at Bowery Ballroom.

--and--

 

    Two shows in one night?!?  Why, that's just FUCKING BONKERS!!!!! 

    Well, not really.  Actually it's more about the combination of lucky scheduling and way too much time on my hands than anything else.  But nonetheless, I'm not exactly sure when was the last time that I pulled off two shows in one day.  Hmmmm.  Possibly it might have been in September '06 when I saw Mastodon at Webster Hall early, then Comets on Fire at Knitting Factory late.  Not gonna lie, that was pretty fucking badass.  ('Twas a good day indeed.)  Anyhow, the way this night shook out, I already had tix for Fang Island at Bowery, but I figured out I'd check out Monogold's early opening set at Glasslands before heading in to Manhattan, knowing that Monogold would be setting out in the van and driving down towards South by Southwest literally the moment their set was over.  Good shit.

    I first saw Monogold's live show at their Public Assembly record release show in mid-January - holy shitballs are they a good band, and man, was that a fun night.  They have a "current"-ish Williamsburg indie pop sound without the gayness of The Pains of Being Pure at Heart or Grizzly Bear or whoever,  while creating well-crafted, tuneful music that makes the kids want to shake they shit.  I've also been enjoying the bejeezus out of their newest album, The Softest Glow, as a nice change of pace from the usual steady diet of Melvins>Sleep>Melvins>Sleep>Melvins>Sleep playlist that more often than not can be found blaring out of my car stereo. 

    Monogold's set on this night was great, as it was the first time I saw 'em.  Frankly, they're another band that proves that I Don't Know Jack Shit About What Makes Music Popular, because they should be fucking huge.  My personal favorites from the set were "Dead Sea Minerals" and "Ivory Tusk, Golden Teeth"... check below for studio versions of these two sick motherfuckin' jams:

 

 

    I wished the gents my best on their SXSW journey and basically ran the fuck out of Glasslands the moment their set was done, heading southward back to my apartment briefly to crush a couple bowls of dank.  Sadly, this brief (yet hyper-necessary) dalliance meant that I'd get to Bowery towards the end of opening band Hollerado's set, which I regretted; I'd seen them open up for (and blow away) Black Lips (who fucking blow) in this same room in September '07.  Anyway, by the time I stumbled into Bowery, Hollerado was in the middle of a positively rippin' jam based on ZZ Top's "La Grange," and they looked to be having a great fucking time... again, I wish I had made it there a bit earlier, goddamn it. 

    Snuck way up front amongst the assembled 12 year-olds for Fang Island's set.  Of course, I'm on record as being a Fang Island booster from way back in the day.  Don't believe me?  Here's a short, sweet, and to the the point list of accolades I've heaped on these guys:

• First time I saw them live, in December '08, I wrote a glowing review.  [Read that shit.]
• Second time I saw them live, in April '10 at Maxwell's, uhhhhh... looks like I didn't write them up or anything that time around, but my buddy Devin shot this video of "Daisy" at the show.  Honest Injun.
• When it came time compile a list of my favorite songs of oh ten, Fang Island scored the year's top slot, with an unprecendented *four* songs in the Top 25.  Impressive!
• And, as befitting an album with so many fantastic songs, Fang Island's Fang Island topped my "Best Albums of 2010" list.   

Right on cue, this night's Fang Island set did not disappoint.  In fact, my only real complaint about the previous two times I'd seen them -- sour vocals -- seems to have been largely remedied.  And the larger Bowery stage allowed the three guitarists to bust out some hilariously over the top ARENA RAWK stage moves.  The setlist consted of most of Fang Island (YAY!), with few older ones and one new one thrown in... I was hoping they'd have six Andrew W.K.s come out to reprise his glorious operatic vocal coda from "Patterns on the Wall" but alas it wasn't to be... but even without that highly unlikely occurrence going down, this was one of the finest sets that I've seen all year. 

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OK, dank-time.  I will try to get a post up about Saturday / Sunday / Monday's shows and goings on but I can't promise anything... heading to Costa Rica on Wednesday for what's sure to be the Douchiest Bachelor Party Ever With the Douchiest Group of Douches That Ever Douched.  Tuddd out.

 

Thalia Zedek Band with The Weight at Bowery Ballroom (opening for Deer Tick), February 13, 2009

   

    First post in awhile, although I have several nearly-finished posts sitting in my draft queue.  Indeed, I plan to make good on my intentions to write at least a little something about every band I see live this year.  As I expected, actually having an occupation/having stuff to do during the day has dramatically cut into the time I have available to waste on this blog.  To boot, '09 has been jampacked with visitors from out of town wanting to get toxic, which I have kindly obliged, con gusto.  Also there's been some drama on the homefront with a roomie moving out and having to find a suitable/non-psycho replacement.  And I've been sick. 

    Anyway, Thalia Zedek needs a better publicist... if it hadn't been for me religiously scanning the pages of OhMyRockness I would have had no idea this show was going down at all.  Which would have been a shame, since I really dig her music.  I'm on record (somewhere) declaring Come's 11:11 as one of the most underrated albums of all time.  Furthermore, her 2004 solo joint Trust Not Those in Whom Without a Touch of Madness is a fine record (not to mention an airtight aphorism), and 2008's Liars and Prayers ranked 30th on my year end Best Albums list.  (Also, I bought her first album with Live Skull from about 20 years ago on eBay late last night, so I've got that going for me.)   

    I believe this was to be the fourth time overall I've seen the band, with the first coming on an opening slot with Dinosaur Jr. in December '06 at Rebel on 30th St.  On that night, the band consisted of Zedek on vocals/guitar, backed up by drummer Daniel Coughlin and violist David Michael Curry, with Zedek's thick, morose chording and raspy croon perfectly framed by the expert musicianship of her bandmates: Coughlin's drumming managed to be both substantial and subtle, with Curry deftly switching between melodic leads and harrowing atonal embellishment.  The second time I saw Zedek live I wrote the performance up here, almost two years ago to the day.  Fine show, and the first time I had seen them with the new, full 5-piece lineup (adding Mel Lederman on keyboard and Winston Braman on bass).

    Last year the band rolled through town in mid-June, and although family commitments precluded me from hitting the show down the block from me (at Union Pool), I enthusiastically attended their show at Mercury Lounge the following week.  Not sure why I didn't post a review, but here's the setlist from said show and such.  As you may or may not be able to tell, they focused very heavily on the newest album, skipping old faves like "Ship," "Bus Stop" and "Hell Is in Hello."  Post-set I chatted with the keyboard player for awhile as he related some tragic tales of life on the road as a touring musician over the last decade-and-a-half-or-so.

    So last night I got back to my apartment before 9 and immediately began hitting the dank.  Hustled over to the J and made it inside Bowery Ballroom about 10 minutes into the set of the opening band, The Weight.  As befitting a band named after a song by The Band, these guys were rootsy and twangy and tuneful.  They also sort of had the kinder, friendlier country bar-band thing going, although they ripped off a few tasty guitar solos at times.  The two-drummer setup crossed me up a bit at first, but by and large they kept their rhythms conventional.  Similar to the evening's headliners, Deer Tick, but less angst-y. 

    Moved up to the left side of the stage for the Zedek Band set, and they actually started into their opening song, "Stars," while the house music was still going.  Up next was "Lower Allston" (which incidentally came in at #51 on my '08 Year-End Best Songs list), with Curry momentarily putting aside his viola to perform the song's sad, solitary Mexican-influenced trumpet parts.  After a doleful "Brother," "Body Memory" brought the tempo up a bit, even venturing out into a noisy, seemingly improvised section, a neat diversion while managing to avoid straying into self-indulgent jamminess.  "Since Then" came next, followed by another new song ("Wind?" I can't remember) before the familiar driving waltz of personal favorite "Bus Stop" began.  Awesome.  And a couple of songs later, "Next Exit" closed the set, with the lengthy ensemble sections showcasing the both the band members' individual prowess and the band's tightness as a unit.  Yes, the subject matter of Zedek's songs largely traverses the well-worn area between dreary and dismal, but one can't help but feel affirmed by a performance like this.

    As I predicted pre-set, my back didn't allow me to make it too deep into Deer Tick's set, although I'd seen (and written about) them last year when they played the part of "special guest" on a bill with Death Vessel.  Hopped back on the J and headed home.

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Got some shows coming up, including a few hours from now when I get to see Titus Andronicus open up for Los Campesinos.  I was initially turned off to said Andronicus by the fact that practically everyone compared them to Bright Eyes, who I really don't like, but as it turns out if I had actually heard The Airing of Grievances before January '09 the album would have been Top 5 of '08 easily.  Till next time, Tuddd out. 

Baroness with Coliseum and Minsk at Bowery Ballroom, November 22nd, 2008

    

   

    I've been a fan of Baroness ever since I first heard The Red Album some time last year.  If you're talking indie metal, for my buck the only bands that match up with these guys for sheer awesomeness are the mighty Early Man and Brooklyn's own Goes Cube (and Pelican, depending on your definition of "metal"), but y'all already know how I feel about that.  As far as the live show, I've seen them twice before: once at Don Pedros in September '07 (right after I broke my ankle) and once earlier this year on April Fools day, when they were granted a criminally brief 35 minute slot. 

    I was supposed to meet a friend at this show, so I (foolishly) neglected to bring any weed with the aim of actually being, you know, sociable for once.  Predictably, said friend totally fucking bailed on me, leaving me with my dick in my hand with regard to intoxicants: I didn't feel like paying $5 (plus tip) for beers at the venue and having to piss every ten minutes is never an appealing option, so sober I remained.  Rats.

    Walked in about halfway through Minsk's set.  Didn't really get much of a feel for them other than that they're really fucking heavy and pretty much eschew melody almost entirely.  Definitely brutally loud, but usually I need more than sheer volume to keep my attention.  Hello, cell phone Tetris!

    Coliseum was up next, which had me stoked.  I've seen these guys live a few times and they always bring the intensity, complete with buckets of sweat and monster loogies.  Fucking heavy, crunching hardcore with awesome Tasmanian Devil-esque vocals.  Oddly the crowd remained largely motionless during the set despite the band's awesome thrashing.  They'll apparently be playing in Brooklyn on Monday at The Charleston, so check 'em out.

    Baroness came onstage just before 11, shooting right into "The Birthing," which (finally) got the crowd moving.  They followed with an unexpected jam on Band of Gypsys' "Machine Gun"... man what a great lick and a clever way for the band to show off its Southern Rock leanings without going all Molly Hatchet on us.  A few songs in I was getting tired of being jabbed in the kidneys by chinbearded midgets so I deserted the pit and headed towards the back of the room.  Nonetheless, it was great to see an NYC crowd actually rocking the fuck out and beating the shit out of each other up front.  As the set went on, it seemed the rowdies were just getting rowdier, which is pretty unusual.  The band themselves seemed stoked about the good turnout, and responded in kind, jumping around like men possessed.  More songs from The Red Album were played, including "Isak," "Rays on Pinion," "Wanderlust," and of course set-closer "Grad."  Before "Grad," the drummer poured water bottles over his kit and cymbals, which provided a cool visual effect with the splashing and crashing of drumsticks and whatnot. 

    What makes Baroness so great is the perfect balance between "technical precision, melody and crunch" (to plagiarize my description of them from earlier in the year).  Make no mistake, these guys have some great material, and here's hoping '09 has a new Baroness album in the cards.

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    Probly taking the night off from show-going, although you bet your sweet bippy I'll be at Goes Cube's show (opening up for Lordi) at Irving Plaza on Monday.  Mealz outwardz. 

The Futureheads at Bowery Ballroom, June 17th, 2008

    I've enjoyed a bit of a love/hate relationship with The Futureheads.  The good: their first album, which took the off-kilter rhythms of classic post-punk acts like Gang of Four, sped 'em up and added four part harmonies, was one of my favorite records of '04.   More good: saw them later that year at Bowery and once each in both '05 and '06 at Webster Hall, excellent performances all.  For the record, the Futureheads live experience is an affair just as tight and twice as caffeinated as their albums, which is also good.  The bad: their follow-up News and Tributes, was one of the worst records of 2006, shifting the lyrical focus from goofy lightheartedness to faux-mature gloom.  And the music just flat out sucked.  More bad: the band suspiciously cancelled their entire Fall '06 American tour due to "injury" despite continuing unabated with their European tour less than two weeks later.  Fishy, no?  As those of us who had prepurchased tickets to their show at Brooklyn's Warsaw learned, Ticketmaster service charges are not refundable, no matter how much one bitches and moans.

    So, it comes with great joy that I can enthusiastically report that the new Futureheads album, This Is Not the World, is splendid, and their live show remains firmly in the category of "fucking awesome."  Which made me happy, because before actually hearing the new album for myself last week I had been sorely tempted to go to the Endless Boogie record release show at Mercury Lounge instead. 

    It was great to see a sold-out Bowery greeting the band, and they responded in kind, bringing the energy, clever banter and (most importantly) an impressive setlist.  Opening with "Decent Days and Nights," the boys from Sunderland tore through most of their best songs, including "Meantime" from the debut, several new ones ("Broke Up the Time," "Walking Backwards," "This Is Not the World," "Think Tonight" -- introduced as "this one sounds a bit like Queen" -- "Hard to Bear," and the two singles, "The Beginning of the Twist" and "Radio Heart"), featuring only one News and Tributes song ("Skip to the End"), and "Area" (from the Area EP) before the closing triumvirate of "Hounds of Love," personal fave "Carnival Kids" and "Man Ray."  The band implored the crowd to participate at every turn, beckoning a shout here, sing-alongs, plenty of clapping and even a bit of pogoing.  By the time the band finished their encore with "He Knows" and "Piece of Crap," I was sweaty and satsified.

    As they mentioned several times during their set, this was just a one-off show and they'll be back in the fall for a proper US tour, so if they're coming to your town don't hesitate to attend, but make sure you wear comfortable shoes, 'cuz yer gonna dance.

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Thalia Zedek and Retribution Gospel Choir at Mercury Lounge tonight.  See you there. 

Raveonettes at Bowery Ballroom, March 27th, 2008

    As it turned out, I missed Sunday night's Raveonettes show at Maxwell's in Hoboken because... well, basically because I'm a fucking idiot.  Let's just leave it at that, k?  However, my idiot-ness just wound up making the Bowery show that much more important of a go, because the Raveonettes have announced over and over again on MySpace that this will be their only US tour in 2008.  Catch 'em while you can, folks.

    My first exposure to the Raveonettes came when by chance I caught their performance of "That Great Love Sound" on Letterman back in '03.  (Watching that clip I realize just how much my memory tends to skew and exaggerate stuff; I distinctly remember there being dramatic spotlighting and grand, swooping camera angles, neither of which ever actually occurred.  Fuck me!).  At the time, I was listening to mostly classic rock/metal-derived stuff and my descent into indie geekdom hadn't yet begun, and although I thought "That Great Love Sound" was indeed great -- kind of a '50s bubblegum/girl group vibe but with amps turned up to eleven, but I was really more struck by how hot Sharin Foo was, thinking "damn, I have to start listening to more bands with hot chicks in them." 

    About 5 months later, I was in Ithaca visiting friends who were still in school, making a showing for "Varsity A," a yearly 21 bar/21 beer barcrawl/disaster extending through the town's downtown bars, into outlying hicktastic shitholes, and eventually back up through the Collegetown bars just off of Cornell's campus.  The night prior to the planned pubcrawl, I met up with a bunch of friends at Collegetown Bagels for a carafe of sangria before splitting off to do blow with a friend back at the "bachelor pad" of another couple of female friends that lived nearby.  (My stash consisted of some crap that I had bought in suburban Chicago, which my well-nasally-traveled friend promptly identified as being "glass," AKA some sort of high-powered meth that I'd never heard of.  After brief deliberation, my reaction was "meh, whatever... the shit ain't gonna snort itself."  Honestly she could have told me it was crystallized rat poison and face it, it still would have found its way up my nostrils somehow).  Anyway, we wound up crushing up whatever the fuck it was on a CD case of The Raveonettes' Chain Gang of Love, and she responded very favorably when I asked her what she thought of the CD.  (Again, not that impromptu amphetamine-fueled music reviews are always necessarily that accurate; everything is always either "fucking awesome" or "it fucking sucks."  Nonetheless, most of my best decisions have come as a result of massive drug intake, so...)

     Anywho.  When I returned back to the Chicago area after the weekend, I found my way to Rainbow Records on Northwest Highway, coming across and buying a used copy of The Raveonettes debut EP, Whip It On.  It wasn't as poppy as what I'd remembered from their Letterman appearance and was decidedly more dark and gritty, so after bong hits I went on Amazon and bought Chain Gang of Love as well as Guided by Voices' career-spanning compilation Human Amusements at Hourly Rates, MBV's Loveless and J Mascis' Martin and Me all in one shot, in what was (in hindsight) probably the single most "influential" CD purchase I've ever made.  To this day, Chain Gang of Love resides somewhere in the top half of my all-time Top 6 albums ever, amongst a rotating cast including NMH's In the Aeroplane Over the Sea, OK Computer, GbV's Bee Thousand, The Who's Live at Leeds and, of course, Appetite for Destruction. 

    My first time seeing them live was in April '05 at Mercury Lounge about a year after I'd moved back to NY, and I caught them at Warsaw the following October the night after they'd had all their gear stolen.  For that show, they played on borrowed acoustics and borrowed some of Radio 4's gear still managing to exude great spirit in spite of the shitty circumstances.  In '07 I was lucky enough to catch them four times, with the March Sune/Sharin Duo show at Southpaw being really memorable.  And I've had their newest outing, Lust Lust Lust, on heavy rotation in my car/iPod/computer since it came out last month and it's pretty safe to say that it's my favorite record so far of '08.  Yes, I realize that this list states otherwise, but I'll have an update of said list posted within the next few days which'll set that shit straight.  (Note: I realize that this extended self-indulgent trip down memory lane may have been tiresome for you, the reader, but I hope I've at least established that I'm not a casual Raveonettes fan -- I consider them one of the very best bands in the world.)

    So, yeah.  I got to NYC a little after 8 and called a friend who would be seeing the show with me.  We met up shortly thereafter and took a quick walk around Chrystie/Bowery/Rivington so I could gossip a bit about mutual acquaintances and get some weed in my system before the show, entering Bowery Ballroom minutes after opener Black Acid took the stage.  Now, normally I'm pretty receptive to opening bands, but these guys were just so cliched and unoriginal that I feared they'd harsh my buzz.  Not as bad as Louis XIV, but not as hilarious, either.  So, a few seconds into their third consecutive rote Stones-by-way-of-Alphabet City knockoff, we departed for about a half hour, coming back just in time to catch their closing number, which must have had like 3 separate false endings before mercifully dying out.  (While we were downstairs I briefly spotted Oliver from A Place to Bury Strangers and shook his hand, mentioning that I was a fan and that I'd enjoyed their most recent show.  Seemed like a good dude.) As the house lights rose, we took the opportunity to scoot up front practically right against the left (Sune side) of the stage.  Let the show begin.

    Sune, Sharin, and their hot drummer chick, Leah, took the stage a little before quarter to 11, rolling right into Lust Lust Lust's "Hallucinations," a standout on an album full of 'em.  First single from Lust, "Dead Sound," was next, followed by "That Great Love Sound" and "Let's Rave On," both from Chain Gang, all played at a breakneck pace.  The trio then brought it down a few notches with some slower material, including "Here Comes Mary" and "Love in a Trashcan" from the underappreciated Pretty in Black LP before taking three Whip it On gems ("Attack of the Ghost Riders," "My Tornado" and "Bowels of the Beast") out for a spin, pausing only long enough for drummer chick to cue up the backing tracks.

    [Which leads to my only real complaint with The Raveonettes' live experience: these backing tracks.  Sune and Sharin choose to adorn many of the songs with pre-taped bass, percussion, distortion and assorted song-specific sound effects: the bing-bong noises throughout "Love in a Trashcan;" the steady beep-beep-beep beep-beep-beep waltz of "Love Can Destroy Everything," the persistent dinging that begins each measure of "Aly Walk With Me."  Which to me is unnecessary.  As I mentioned earlier, my favorite Raveonettes tour was last March when they toured as a duo, Sharin and Sune switching off song-by-song with each spending time at the guitar, bass and drum.  Seriously, guys, drop the piped-in stuff.  Rant over.]

    Tuneful raveup "You Want the Candy" followed, in a gracious tribute/tip-of-the-cap to former Raves' producer (and frequent '60s girl group contributor) Richard Gottehrer, also the composer of classic songs like "I Want Candy" and "My Boyfriend's Back."  After running through a few more new songs, including "Blush," "Black Satin" and "Lust," they ended the proper set with Lynchian Lust album opener "Aly, Walk With Me" (no "Red Tan" tonight, unfortunately) before closing out the evening with an encore of "Love Can Destroy Everything" into "Twilight."  And not a moment too soon, as I had completely thrown out my back at this point.  Whew, what a great fucking show.

     To be sure, the Raveonettes are a band that proudly wear their influences on their sleeves.  After all, the band's very name is half-Buddy Holly reference, half-nod to the Ronettes.  Yes, their sound draws heavily on Jesus and Mary Chain's Psychocandy and surf guitar tones and drumbeats and film noir imagery.  But those who dismiss them as mimics are missing the point entirely: if you can't enjoy The Raveonettes, I'd recommend an armada of Q-tips be dispensed to your ear area forthwith!

    As we walked out Bowery's street-level exit onto Delancey, it was impossible not to overhear the post-show excitement in everyone's voices, easily audible in English and Danish -- it's always fun to see a great show and then hear people giddily discussing about what a great show it was afterwards.  Plus I saw a girl who was shaped like Grimace before I hobbled into a cab towards Penn Station, so that was cool.

   

   

   

Pissed Jeans at Bowery Ballroom, December 2nd, 2007

    So, I just got off the phone with Ticketmaster.  Or, rather, they got off the phone with me by "terminating the call."  Now, I can't be sure exactly why they cut me off, but In all likelihood, they deemed said conversation was no longer productive due to me wishing aloud that I could somehow reach through the phone and choke the useless, mildly retarded customer service agent with whom I was speaking.  Or perhaps it was my semi-serious threat to a "supervisor" that I'd like to "rip his eyeballs out and shove them up his ass." 

    Whatever, Ticketmaster screwed me; what else is new.  Everybody knows Tickemaster sucks -- nothing new here.  Long story short, I paid for a will call ticket to last night's Mudhoney/Pissed Jeans show at Bowery, but I was denied admission because I wasn't on the list that Ticketmaster sent to the venue.  So I had to shell out another $20 for another ticket just to get in the fucking door.  Again, whatever.  When you think about it, that $20 is chickenfeed compared to the amount they've gouged me for "convenience fees" and "service charges" throughout the years.  (Wait, now I'm getting madder.) 

    Anyway, fuck all that.  I'm not sure what was more remarkable about last night: Pissed Jeans' incredible set, or my pre-show experience.  Let me explain.

    Got into a cab outside Penn, and I knew something was odd when my cabbie was a white guy.  Turned out he's from [location deleted, let's just say that it's thousands of miles away] and he's trying to make it in NYC as an actor.  One thing led to another and we started talking about drugs, and eventually -- apropos of nothing, totally out of nowhere -- dude encouraged me to spark up a bowl.  I had my trusty dugout/one-hitter aboard so I packed one for myself and then packed him one explaining "pull easy man, this is some good shit."  He obliged.  Only drawback was that we missed a turn and he didn't know that Delancey turns into Kenmare.  No big whoop, we were pretty fucking stoned.  Plus it saved me the bother of creepily walking up and down Bowery smoking weed pre-show.  Pretty cool, no?

    Anyway, Pissed Jeans rule.  (I'll spare any narration of the pre-show clusterfuck that was me trying to get my ticket.)  Basing their fury upon boredom, self-doubt and loathing a loathsome society they use an impossibly sludgy presentation to make their point.  Sludgecore to the max.  Basically, the musical equivalent of shitting yourself at work -- on purpose.  Frontman Matt Korvette started the set by jumping into his bassist's instrument case, thrashing around and closing the top as though it were an impossibly undersized casket.  His antics throughout the set were performance art on overdrive, as the audience essentially witnessed Korvette's transformation from mild-mannered actuary (apparently his real-world occupation) to snarling, drooling furious hell-beast.  Goddamn, I should have brought my camera. 

    Fuck, I have to get going.  But if all goes well I'll be seeing Cheeseburger tonight at a free show at Knitting Factory.  Anyway, if you happen to personally know any employees of Ticketmaster, try to sneak a little pee pee in their iced tea or something for me if ya would.  Thanks. 

CMJ Wednesday, October 17th at Bowery Ballroom: Deerhunter with Dan Deacon and No Age (with pictures! Yippee!)

    If, by some cruel twist of fate, Arcade Fire had somehow never managed to form, 2007 would definitely have to be considered the year of Deerhunter.  Their Cryptograms album ranks second on my best-of albums list so far this year, and their show at Mercury Lounge in April is topped only by the Arcade Fire-curated Randalls Island mini-indiepalooza and Radio City night two in May, featuring -- you guessed it -- Arcade Fire. 

    Of course, back in April I had no idea what Deerhunter's stage show would be like, and the blank slate approach was the best way to be introduced to them (as it usually is for anybody).  On the way out of Mercury Lounge that night, it was impossible not to notice that virtually everyone had been deeply moved by their intensity and shocked by their raw presentation.  Since then, they've decided to abandon some of the more gimmicky stuff (no more sundresses or paint pellets and decidedly much less of frontman Bradford Cox physically abusing his bandmates).  Which makes sense-- they're still a visually striking band without driving the ol' tricks into the ground ad nauseum. 

    We arrived at Bowery fairly early (considering Deerhunter weren't slated to go on until midnight), but the first band we actually paid attention to were No Age, an energetically garagey guitar/drums duo.  Think a more lo-fi Death From Above 1979, if that helps.  The crowd seemed to dig their righteous instrument-pummeling, as did I, and at the end of their set they pulled some kids onstage to thrash along with them even handing the guitar over to one of said crowdmembers for the majority of the final song.  We were about halfway back in the crowd and my attempts at snapping a few shots of No Age came out pretty fuzzy, thanks in part to my crappy camera.  But since I'm in a good mood, I'm going to go with "wow, fuckballs, these pics really captured the band's infectious effervescence."  Or something else equally atarded.

                                     

    Up next was Baltimore's weirdo-electronica maven, Dan Deacon.  I snuck up front with the intention of snapping some primo pictures but realized shortly that he was setting up at the front of the crowd, and not onstage.  Before he began the set he wisely announced that those with cameras could get up onstage so that he could be surrounded by folks who wanted to dance their tits off and I dutifully belly-flopped my way up onto Bowery's stage.

    I totally dug his frenetic style and the homemade aspect of his entire setup, as well as his creative methods of crowd control-- starting with Diplo (who was in attendance) he sent crowd members on a relay race of sorts through the center of the floor, up and around the Bowery balcony, ending up down on the floor.  Tag, you're it!  At the end of the set he handed out lyric sheets to the song "Wham City," an ode to the artist's collective where he lives in Baltimore (last picture, bottom right).  Awesome sweaty  fun set.

 

    Deerhunter took the stage at about half past midnight.  Frontman Bradford Cox mentioned that he had asked to play *before* Dan Deacon because attempting to follow his manic set is a formidable task.  They started with a new song, "Cavalry" something or other (very pretty; is this an Atlas Sound track?) before going into "Intro"/"Cryptogram."  It was fascinating to hear that many of the songs have undergone dramatic rearrangements, which only makes sense because the band has been touring behind the same group of songs pretty much all year.  Most notably, drummer Moses Archuleta's playing has really improved, as especially evident on the now breakneck-paced "Wash Off."  Also, Dr. Glass is now pretty much a bass-led funk song, and "Octet" is now less Floyd-y and more ferocious than the album version.

    On their second swing through New York in July, at Bowery an elegantly wasted Cox ended their set by coming onstage alone and rambling semi-coherently about topics ranging from his childhood, family, sexuality, and bloggers.  Then shit got really weird when he invited a friend onstage to hop around and sing a Germs song.  The rest of the band did not reappear save the drummer's futile attempts at getting Cox the fuck off the stage.  This bizarre-yet-oddly-hilarious incident was humorously alluded to several times by the band cutting him off whenever he'd breach a new tangent. 

    They finished the final song of their encore ("Fluorescent Gray") at about 1:30 and the exhausted crowd stumbled out onto Delancey.  I had thrown my back out something fierce, my voice was hoarse, and my legs were fucking killing me.  CMJ rules.

Goes Cube, August 24th, 2007 at Bowery Ballroom

    Howdy, Tudddkateers!  Good to holler atcha.  As you most likely haven't noticed, it's been a while since I've gotten out to see a good old fashioned, honest-to-Jebus rawk show.  I was at the Daft Punk show at Keyspan Park in Coney Island, which was freakin' awesome (and which Rolling Stone has since anointed as "The Concert of the Year"), but I've seriously missed being in the trenches lo these last few weeks.  And with Beach House tomorrow night, and the Early Man-headlined World War IV Metalfest at Europa Sunday, what better time to get off the schneid?

    I've been meaning to check out Goes Cube for what seems like forever.  Months back, I had tix to see them with Endless Boogie, who are also great, somewhere (Northsix?) which I missed thanks to the inhuman rigors of my former job.  Without having heard a note of their music, I tried to get my favorite Long Island indie store to order me Goes Cube's debut EP, but to no avail.  Pretty much everything I've read about these guys makes me think that they'd be right in my wheelhouse.  So, on with the show.

    I was worried that I'd be late, thanks to me forgetting that I had to mow my grandma's lawn until about 7 PM.  Took care of that shit in less than a half hour, but still had to change and eventually deal with horrendous westbound traffic on the BQE because of an accident.  Parked, as usual, on Delancey and hustled up to Bowery, happily hearing Misfits blasting over the in-house speakers.  Seriously, is there anything better than the Misfits for pre-show music?  Needless to say, "Teenagers from Mars," "Horror Business" and "Bullet" had me grinning like a retard and ready to slam my head through a wall.

    Fortunately, Goes Cube kept the energy level up, and then some.  As they roared into their set, my first impression of these guys was that there's a definite Helmet influence, which is just fine by me.  A three-piece with plenty of volume, their sound is based around textural chording with the bassist's killer tone doubling most of the licks, thereby hammering home the heaviness.  Vocals are shouted, which fits the bill perfectly.  I have to admit, there's kind of a nu-metal thing going on there, but without any of the annoying bullshit that usually accompanies that dreaded tag.

    I totally dig these guys' aesthetic: each song is given a number instead of a proper name, for example "Goes Cube song 27", etc.  They seem to stick pretty closely and singularly to their sound, meaning that you're not going to get any boring wankery or any shitty Incubus/Staind-style ballads, and this devotion to their sound -- not to mention their adherence to familiar lyrical themes of loathing and agony -- would seemingly make giving normal names to their songs irrelevant.  (I realize that paragraph might not make any sense, but so what.)

    Anway, I didn't bother sticking around for the next two bands because my back was still killing me from dragging the lawn mower around.  Plus, the next band was selling named stuffed animals at the merch stand, which is a bit cutesy for my tastes.  I snagged a copy of Goes Cube's debut EP for a cool $5, and had the chance to listen to it three times through on the way home thanks to accidents, construction on the Northern State, and overall shitty traffic.  On disc, these guys overall sound is reminiscent of Death From Above 1979's, because of the way in which the "warm" bass tone dominates the sound, both providing the backbone and, at times, leading the skullfuckingly awesome riffage. 

    Apparently these guys are playing a show in Plainview on Long Island in October in some dude's basement.  I definitely want to hit that up so I contacted the band on MySpace to ask for details... they didn't have much info to fill me in with but it should be interesting nonetheless.  As much as going to Long Island shows is usually a total beating (see my review of the recent Social Distortion show at Mulcahy's), I'm'a try to make it out for that one.  Rock on.      

Pelican with Earth and Priestbird, July 24th, 2007 at Bowery Ballroom

    Well, so much for getting reviews done in a timely fashion.  I guess it makes it kind of difficult when I'm seeing a new show pretty much every night (yeah, I know, cry me a freakin' river), and when I don't really get up until like 10:30 or so every day (*YAWN*.  Have I mentioned that retirement's awesome?).  As I sit here right now, my apartment has reached a level of filthiness heretofore unimagined.  I should be cleaning, or even more importantly at the gym, but I've got Social D tonight and I can't risk pulling a hammy or wrenching my back.  [Yep, I'm a world-class rationalizer.]  So buckle up, it's blog time.  (*shudder*)

    So, yeah, fuckin' Pelican.  Their new record, City of Echoes is fantastic.  Since I'm such a sucker for post-rock/post-metal type bands it's pretty embarrassing for me to admit that it's the first shit I've heard by Pelican, but whatever, I've just got some catching up to do (love that rationalizing!).  One day I plan on making a post-rock/post-metal spectrum thingy listing all the bands I've heard by relative heaviness from right to left.  All the way at the right would be Sigur Ros and then probably Under Byen; then you get towards the weepy emo of Explosions in the Sky, followed by Mogwai; then Pelican/Russian Circles/Boris as you veer into more metal-tastic territory.  Overall I'd have to say that Pelican's sound pretty much evenly splits the uprights between Explosions in the Sky and Russian Circles -- incredibly emotive and expressive without being the least big faggy, but still unafraid to finger-tap and do some serious chug-chugga-chug riffing.  As such, Pelican just might be the perfect band.

    Wisely, I smoked some weed before getting into the car and driving into the city -- weed really accompanies monolithic, glacial instru-metal poifectly.  Parked on Delancey below Essex and stumbled up to Bowery Ballroom... feelin' niiiiice.  After quickly buying a Pelican CD at the merch table, I ran up the stairs just in time to see Priestbird take the stage.  Before even so much as playing a single note, these bastards had already established their hilarious/metal cred, thanks to the following :
1.) transparent, rainbow-colored drum set
2.) double-neck guitar/bass
3.) cello!
4.) at least one band member who looked like he should be in Brightblack Morning Light
5.) singing drummer
6.) blonde, curly semi-mullet   
7.) GONG!

    I dug these guys and they were pretty awesome, although they drifted a bit too frequently into total nebulousness (nebulosity?) to really be _totally_ awesome.  I was really impressed that they found a way to amplify the cello to where it wasn't totally drowned out by the dude on the double-neck, while not being eardrum-splittingly shrill.  And the drumming was spectacular.  Basically, the double-neck guy's clean tone left open spaces for the one-man string section to really shine, and in turn the cello really added an element of creepiness to the heavy riffing sections.  They definitely have their chops down, that's for damn sure. 

    Earth was up next.  To my knowledge, Earth is semi-famous for two things: 1.) inspiring the fuck out of the guys in SunnO))) and 2.) guitarist Dylan Carlson was Kurt Cobain's best friend during high school.  Me likey droney, repetitive stuff, (especially after a bowl or two) and I came away from these guys with an appreciation for their ability to play SLOOOOOOWLY and not rush the tempo.  Having never heard any of their shit before, I was expecting more of a low-end Absolutego-style sludgefest, which thankfully wound up not being Earth's bag at all; Carlson's tone evokes a demented, twanged minimalism, with many songs seemingly consisting of elements of one chord, fleshed out through patient repetition.  Really nowhere near as heavy as I'd anticipated -- kind of like an Endless Boogie record played at half-speed.  Cool shit.

    Pelican was up next and goddamn did they hit the nail right on the head.  Just simply some great guitar work, at times gentle and plaintive while at other times absolutely bone-crushingly brutal.  I wisely was standing right in front of the dude playing the SG, so watching homeboy's fingers tarantula-ing up and down the fretboard took my mind off the drummer's, um, "creative" timekeeping.  I was shocked that the crowd up front was mostly young kids, with few of my fellow heshers around.  But who th' fuck cares, I'm used to being outnumbered at concerts, and if the kids these days are listening to good tunes like this, then all the better. 

    Before the amps had died down following the encore, the dude playing the SG ran downstairs to man the merch table and I followed suit, buying a *second* CD and a tour poster.  As usual, I couldn't think of anything intelligent to say other than "great fuckin' set, man," but honestly that's probably all that needed to be said anyway.  Great fuckin' set, man indeed.

   

Bobby Bare, Jr. and Meowskers at Bowery Ballroom, June 22, 2007

    Luuuuuunch.  Anyway.  As it turned out, thanks to rain, and lots of it, I really don't have much to report from the Williamsburg Street Music Festival thingy on Thursday night.  Rain throughout the day postponed openers Best Fwends set, which I really didn't have any interest in catching anyway.  Instead, my friend and I had beers at The Abbey on Driggs.  I wound up drinking 5 1/2 beers in less than 45 minutes, so I had a decent buzz going by the time we finally exited.  We missed the first song of Cheeseburger's set, but they played "Money for the Heart," "Derby Day" and part of "Hot Street" before the thunderstorm came sending everyone scurrying.  Of course, I was so stoned that I had no idea where I'd parked, but nonetheless we eventually made it back to my friend's apartment to smoke yet more weed and eat Peruvian chicken.  The rain cleared up after less than an hour or so, so who knows, maybe Oxford Collapse got a set in after all, I have no idea -- but at that point getting me off the couch with my mouth stuffed with beans n' rice, yuca and that awesome green sauce wasn't happening. 

    On to Friday's show.  Bobby Bare Jr. is definitely amongst my top five favorite live performers at this point.  I was trying to come up with a list of other artists whose shows I prefer that still perform regularly, and all I could come up with was Comets on Fire, Mogwai, Arcade Fire, Social Distortion, and the now semi-retired (from playing live, at least) Robert Pollard.  This being the third time I've seen Bare Jr.'s live show, I've still never seen him headline a set.  Last year he opened for Drive By Truckers and pretty much blew them off the stage, and later I caught him opening for Centromatic.  No Centromatic fan am I: he made those guys look like a fucking Barney sing-along or some shit. 

    Fortunately, Thursday night's Bobby Bare Jr. show was indoors.  (Again, I'm aware that The Slip were  headlining this show but I'm not into that type of middle-of-the-road blandness).  Openers Meowskers kind of reminded me of bands like Bon Savants and Cheyenne, if only because of three reasons: 1.) chicks obviously dig 'em; 2.) their schtick is basically spare melodies delivered over inoffensive chording and 3.) I (embarassingly) kinda like 'em, too.  Seriously, there were a ton of eminently fuckable college chicks who showed up for these guys' set, most of whom were drinking heavily.  Great stuff because not only is it worthwhile (and boner-inducing) to watch hot drunk chicks hop around, but you had to know that as soon as Meowskers left the stage, these chicks would be gone and there would be plenty of room up front.

    After the last shrill teenybopper cheer died down, Bare and his band began setting up immediately, and I noticed that the personnel -- and notably the instrumentation of his backing band, the Young Criminals' Starvation League -- had changed entirely.  No more handlebar-sportin' well-dressed guitar dude (Richie?  Is that his name?), but instead a dude on guitar/bass/trumpet/keys and a woman splitting time between bari sax and keys.  Of course, I cheated and looked at their taped-to-the-stage setlists, pleased that they were planning on playing a generous portion of great songs. 

    Opening with a somewhat more sedate version of "Valentine" -- complete with horn intro -- it became obvious that this would be a more pensive Bobby Bare Jr. show than I was used to.  Throughout the set his jams seemed trippier than his usual countrified Pixies/ramshackle powerhouse RAWK.  As his backing band seems to constantly be shifting members, it's cool to note the differences in performance styles.  Well, for me at least.  Cool shit.  During the second song, "Borrow Your Cape," the band roared straight through in full bore hard rockin' mode.  "Flat-Chested Girl from Maynardville" followed, and again the closing freeform coda was cacophonous and super dissonant.  More faves were to come, amongst them "Uh Woh Oh," "Mayonnaise Brain," "I'll Be Around," "Heart Bionic."  According to their setlist, they had planned on playing "Stop Cryin'" before ultimately ending with "Terrible Sunrise," but... fuckin' time constraints.  They closed their set with the requisite cymbal-crashin' big rock ending, after which I pretty much booked out the Bowery door to my car.  Seriously, sticking around for The Slip's first couple songs would have been pointless because, face it, I was going to leave anyway, and always better to leave on a good note. 

    So, yeah, here's hoping Bobby Bare Jr. and the Young Criminals Starvation League comes back real soon (y'hear?) and that they can fire up a full 90 minute-or-so set of the good stuff.   I'll be chewing my toenails in eager anticipation.