Tuddd's Muddd

Parts and Labor at Cake Shop, April 8, 2011

    Just got back from the show, loaded up the bowl, and poured myself a TALLLLL Vodky / soda / splash'a cran.  Thought I was kinda sober when I got on the train home.  That was an inaccurate assessment / I am fucking TRASHED.  Deets to follow.

• Hate to admit that just a short four weeks ago I still hadn't heard note one by Parts and Labor.  Although, yes, I'm a bit late to the party on these guys, I'm already a full-fledged convert; by this point they've already scored the coveted (HAHHAHAHH!) #1 slot on my first "Best Albums of '11" list.  Naturally, the next step was to see them live. 
• After some serious huffing and puffing, hopped the J to Essex.  Cake Shop calendar said doors at 8, but I was prepared for the worst, which came to fruition when I was informed that shit wasn't going to get started until about quarter after 9.  FUUUUUUUCK!
• Went a few doors down from Cake Shop to Iggy's, a bar I really disenjoy.  Last time I was there I got the distinct impression that I was the only person in the bar not on intense amphetamines, although an improbably awesome PBR special kept me glued to my barstool.  This time, I walked in and they're playing Sublime (?!???!) and I wind up getting harassed by some drunk, coked-up 60 something dude about the goings-on in the NBA.  He had no clue what the fuck he was talking about, but I politely nodded as he spouted such gems as "man, I hope the Knicks play the Sixers in the first round!" [eyeroll]  Needless to say, this guy was BRUTAL, and probably deserved to be burned, alive.  Trying to break up the conversation, I ordered a second pint, but the fucking bartender FORGOT ABOUT ME, leaving me with my dick in my hand for about 10 minutes.  Ultimately, I went unserved.  Despite wanting to get drunk -- and fast -- I decided that my time was better used just wandering aimlessly around the Lower East Side.
• Drank a bunch of pints at that shithole Nice Guy Eddie's.  "Hey Nice Guy Eddies, 'fuck you,' you're a shit bar.  Except for the hot bartender (the one with the glasses)."  Very uneventful.
• Finally stumbled into Cake Shop at about a quarter to ten.  Was informed that I had missed the opening band, Hunters, which was just fine by me; four bands can be a tall order especially if three of them could potentially suck ass.
• First band I saw was Zulu, and they were horrible.  Just tuneless infantile thrashing about, which can be ok if your shouty guy sounds kind of intimidating.  This guy, not so much; he sounded like he was scolding his loftmate for carelessly placing a chai latte on his back-up iPad.  Whiny, monotonous and shitty.
• Began pounding Rock cans with reckless abandon.
• Escaped outside only to be aggressively panhandled by a dude about my size (read: kinda terrifying) for a couple of bucks. 
• Next band, from the "dark hole of Cleveland" (their words, not mine, although I concur), was Puffy Areolas.  They had kind of a proto-punk backbone filtered thru a more modern noisy presentation, which I obviously fucking dug.  The guitarist / singer guy spent most of his time fucking around in the first few rows of the audience (right where I was standing), so mad fucking props on that shiiiiiiiiit.  Was disappointed to see they apparently didn't have any CDs for sale. 
• The crowd seemed at least a little into this deal, which was nice because these guys were playing their fucking tits off.
• Drank some more Rocks at setbreak.  Tried to weasel my way into a cheap shot-and-a-beer special, but the bartender wasn't having it.  I'm sorry, but if the best you can do for a well shot and a can of beer is $10, you can go fuck yourself.
• Parts and Labor was up next and they did NOT disappoint.  Just great, noisy, at times inspirational (um, "Hurricane," anyone?) power pop delivered by a bunch of dudes that seemed fucking ecstatic to be there.  Man is this a good band!
• The keyboard dude announced that this was their first show with their new (touring?) guitarist, who apparently 1.) has a pilots license and 2.) once skydived (skydove?) out of the plane used in Point Break.  AWESOME!!!  Oddly enough, the guitarist was mostly inaudible to me for the majority of the set, despite the fact that I was standing no more than eight or nine inches away from him the whole set.
• In my brief review of their newest album, I somehow retardedly neglected to mention that the drumming on Constant Future is just INSANE.  I haven't been so unexpectedly blown away by a drummer at a live show since this Fucking Champs show.  By my count I've seen about 25 shows so far this year (about 50-60 bands at least) and the only drummers I can name that can even so much as hold this guy's jock are Kenny from Goes Cube and Harvey Milk's Kyle Spence.  [OK, fine, and Austerity Program's drum machine.]
• Setlist had a bunch of shit spanning Constant Future, Receivers, Mapmaker and Stay Afraid.  Plenty of new shit but regrettably no "Fake Names" or "Constant Future" or "Bright White."
• Hmmmm.  Not sure how I can more avidly recommend these guys.  Running out of nice things that I can say before this review turns into a straight fuckin' cartoon beejer.  Buy their records, see them live, and when you do, dance around like you're undergoing invisible electro shock treatment.  I did!
• Some props for the venue.  Watching (and becoming obsessed with) Jay Reatard's infamous Cake Shop set from back in the day (and having seen some bad ass shows in this room in my own right) has kind of made me remember certain past great Cake Shop shows with a sort of glowing wistful fondness.  Or maybe it's just the Christmas lights.
  
• Setlist below; see further below for a pic I took of the actual setlist from the stage [yes I am that nerd]:

Setlist:

1. Fractured Skies
2. Echo Chamber
3. A Thousand Roads
4. Wedding in a Wasteland
5. Outnumbered -> (yes, a legitimate segue)
6. Rest
7. Skin and Bones
8. The Gold We're Digging
9. Hurricane [probably the highlight of the set for me]
10. Never Changer [a/k/a pissbreak]
11. Nowhere's Nigh

        --ENCORE--

    12. Changing of the Guard

[Man was it dark down there]

Kylesa with Stinking Lizaveta, Unearthly Trance and Darsombra at Cake Shop, May 31 2009

KYLESA



STINKING LIZAVETA

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Happy June, assholes!  I had a slow weekend, which is nice for a change, especially considering the toxic disaster that this coming week and weekend is going to inevitably morph into.  I'll have friends in town during the week for several shows, then a road trip with still yet more friends for another show and massive afterparty during the weekend.  Pray for me.*

So, Kylesa.  I'm liking the shit out of their newest album, Static Tensions, which contains several great tunes (most notably early song-of-the-year contender "Unknown Awareness").  I'm a huge, gay sucker for awesome stoner sludge with psych flourishes, and face it, you should be too.  I'd missed Kylesa last time they were in town (I think they played the Charleston) so no time like the present etc.

Rolled up on Cake Shop a little after 8:30 and after going inside and paying for admission ($10, not too shab) was told that the show's start was going to be pushed back a bit.  Fine.  As such, I spent the next half hour or so nursing $3 PBRs at Iggys down the block.  When I got back to Cake Shop, I could hear the opening band, Brooklyn's own Unearthly Trance, wailing away.  Again, I missed a lot of their set, but from what I could tell they seemed to be a pretty decent doom outfit, and I enjoyed what I heard.

Next act was a one-man project called Darsombra, which consisted of a dude on 8-string bass, Les Paul and occasional vocals, looping his sounds and manipulating a ton of effects pedals.  Good shit, although I should say that this was a bit more riff-heavy than some of the more unstructured stuff that's out there.  Maybe like a heavier Grails?  Some of it kinda sounded like stuff from last year's Pyramids record (which I liked) if that helps. 

By now I was several beers into the evening and I figured "what the hey, time to get high."  So I whipped out my one-hitter and walked around the block (Ludlow/Rivington/Essex/Stanton/back to Ludlow).  As per usual in this area, the cop presence was massive, which kept me from toking recklessly, and with my oneie being freshly cleaned earlier in the morning, the hits were not terribly pleasant unless you consider mouthfuls of flaming weed pieces "pleasant."  Whatevs.  This brief interlude paid its real dividends when, after returning from around the block,  I saw some drunk jackass walk full-speed straight into a closed glass door and bounce off like a sparrow flying into your window, which was hilarious. 

By the time I got back inside Cake Shop, I was feeling pretty fucking good, the cheap beer and expensive weed combining to create the ideal glowing/borderline meditative/"all is momentarily well in the world" mindset.  Ahhhhhhhh.  Anyway, the evening's third band, Stinking Lizaveta, a 3-piece with guitar, electric stand-up bass (!!) and drums, ripped into their set with road-tested fury.  Apparently these guys have been around for a decade-and-a-half... well, I wish I'd heard of them at some time during said decade-and-a-half, because they are, as it turns out, ABSOLUTELY FUCKING AMAZING.  Here's a description of them from the New Yorker event listings (by way of the band's MySpace page): "heavy instrumental rock that meshes complicated and precise prog-rock passages, gloomy riffs in the Black Sabbath vein, and occasional free-jazz blowouts."  If there's ever been a more promising band description anywhere, I'd like to see it.  At this point the room was gradually getting more and more packed, and, as such, within minutes everyone -- band and audience alike -- was dripping wet.  This didn't keep the guitarist from gallivanting about the stage, ripping off insane solos while hopping onto (and off of) his amps and other equipment.  The set included a positively ripping cover of Band of Gypsys' "Power of Soul" which was exactly what the doctor ordered-- man these guys rock.  I eagerly await the delivery of their new album, which I ordered minutes after getting home from the show.

It just so happened that I sweated so much during Stinking Lizaveta's set that I didn't have to piss before Kylesa started setting their shit up, which was good because by this point the room was totally packed (definitely the most folks I've ever seen at a Cake Shop show) and people were jostling for position up front.  Kylesa seemed to be having trouble with some of their gear (notably an amp and a mic) so it was a while before any music was played.  Once they started, though... *whistling noise* man did shit get rowdy.  Yes, I go to see a lot of metal shows but usually people just kind of mind their own business, at the very most just kinda thrashing solo -- that's the NYC way.  But the evening's delays, combined with the fact that people were by and large fucking hammered, combined with the stinky sweatbox Cake Shop's basement had become, combined with the fact that people seem to legitimately love Kylesa, added up to some furious mosh-pitting up front.  Interestingly, the most flagrant of said thrashers were not necessarily your typical metal-show fare, encompassing yuppies, hippies and random hot chicks in addition to the usual assortment of chinbearded n'er do-wells, tiny Napoleonic meatheads and fat bearded stoners like myself.  Kylesa's two-drummer setup is really showcased in the live setting, as the beats have a primal, tribal element not perfected by many bands not named Sepultura.  But yeah, sick set, and a pretty great show all around. 

*NOTE: do not pray for me.

------

Expecting a "special delivery."  The timeliness of said delivery will have an effect on whether or not I get out tonight.  Muddd outward and such.

BOAT at Cake Shop, August 17, 2008

    So at the tail end of a pretty fucked up weekend, I managed to pull myself out of the fetal position long enough to get out to a show.  I had originally planned on heading to the Oxford Collapse acoustic jam/Q and A session at SoundFix, but I couldn't think of any questions to ask other than "why isn't 'Search Party' on the new album?" and "why don't you play 'Burno' more often?"  Plus I've seen Oxford Collapse three times already this year (including this set) and although they're certainly fun as hell live, they've got a show coming up at Glasslands later this week as well as a show at Mercury Lounge in late September.  So I'll catch 'em again. 

    Pulled on a pair of me fav'rit trousers, hopped on the J and walked up to Cake Shop 8ish... the sign mentioned "doors at 8, show at 8:30" so I wandered nearby for a few rounds of well-whiskey-shots-with-PBR-chasers at a beverage purveyor down the block.  When I finally got in to Cake Shop, I wound up talking with the drummer from BOAT for awhile, which was cool.  He mentioned that they were excited to *finally* be playing New York, and I bought a copy of their debut CD.  I enjoyed their last full length, Let's Drag Our Feet (which in retrospect I probably underrated a bit by having it at #35 on my Best Albums of '07 list) and I'm eager to hear their new Topps EP, the 7-inch of which apparently comes accompanied by hand-drawn baseball cards with a design reminiscent of the '86 Topps set.  Pretty great, no?  I quickly scanned the evening's setlist and noticed one of my fave BOAT songs wasn't present.  When I inquired after its absence, the dude from BOAT mentioned that the opening band would be covering that song during their set; apparently BOAT staged a "cover our songs" contest on their website, and said opening band had rocked their particular cover sufficiently.  (I won't mention which song it was just in case you're planning on going to the Boat/Creeping Weeds/My Teenage Stride show at Union Hall tomorrow night.  Wouldn't want to ruin the surprise.) 

    Had another couple beers and the openers, Creeping Weeds (from Philadelphia) took the stage.  They were okay, but nothing really set them apart from the literally hundreds of midtempo, MOR opening bands I've seen over the last several years, like The Weakerthans, the Bon Savants, or, say, Cheyenne or whatever.  The highlight for me was the aforementioned BOAT cover which closed the set. 

    By 9:30 BOAT took the stage and the drummer's pre-show description of the live BOAT experience being "scrappy" fit like a glove.  Before they began playing, they handed out shakers (aww!) made of plastic cups filled with macaroni/rice and sealed with duct tape, which came in handy on quite a few of the upbeat, jittery numbers they treated the crowd to.  Very, very fun with the highlight for me being "Come With Me We'll Win," which was introduced as being "a Who song," to which I responded with a positive "woo!" only to remember that I was the dork wearing a Tommy t-shirt.  Hah, fair enough, I deserve it.  The songs were delivered with a boyish enthusiasm that compliments their natural bashfulness quite nicely.  Nope, these guys aren't jaded in the least and they generally gave the impression that they were just happy to be there, thank you very much. 

    So yeah, if you're interested in fun, funny, goofy pop songs, check these guys out tomorrow (Wednesday) night at Union Hall.  Wish I were going but I'll probably be heading to Southpaw to see firsthand if Earl Greyhound is as great as everyone's said.  Rock onward.