Search Results for “holy other” – Page 6

PLAYING DETROIT: Flint Eastwood Finds “Real Love” on Inspiring New Single

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This week, Detroit’s own Flint Eastwood – Jax Anderson – released “Real Love,” a powerful song detailing her broken relationship with the Christian church, and how breaking away from it finally gave her the chance to find love and truth. Like many people in the LGBTQ community, Anderson says she felt ostracized by the church because of her sexuality. After years of being told that there was something wrong with her, she decided to cut ties altogether with the church and free herself from what she felt were the judgmental confines of Christianity.

Anderson didn’t take this decision lightly. As someone who comes from a long line of preachers and grew up in the Christian church, separating from it meant much more than not saying her prayers on Sunday. “It was an extremely hard decision,” says Anderson. “I knew that I would be losing a community of people that I’d loved for a very long time and I had a huge fear that it would cause a division in my family, but thank god it didn’t.” She says although she made the split a while ago, this is her first time talking about it and also her first time openly singing about her sexuality. And the timing wasn’t a coincidence.

A few weeks before the song was released, Anderson’s older brother – who is also a preacher – sent her a link to a video of her family’s ex-pastor receiving an award for a “gay conversion therapy workshop” that he hosted for young women who are questioning their sexuality and gender identity. “We were both like, ‘this is ridiculous and it’s terrible that he’s doing this,’” says Anderson. “Especially because it was targeting girls aged 11-13 and that really hit home with me. That was exactly where I was when I was 11.” Understandably outraged, Anderson felt the best way to express her anger was to write a song about it.

She pulled up a bunch of instrumentals sent over by her brother Seth Anderson, a producer who goes by SYBLYNG, and settled on a piano loop that sounded like it came straight from a hymnal. “I sat down and wrote the song in about thirty minutes,” J. Anderson says. “I basically went through all of the ‘fruits of the holy spirit’ – which in Christianity are love, joy, patience, kindness – and said I found all of those in ways outside of the church, not by being a Christian but by being who I am.”

Anderson starts off “Real Love” by singing, “Can I be honest for a minute? Found peace when I lost religion / Found love when I thought I couldn’t.” Her opening lines set the stage for her description of her life after the church – one full of acceptance, love, and freedom. At one point in the song, a male voice says “Love without truth is not love,” exactly imitating the words of the conversion pastor’s acceptance speech, twisting his ill-meaning words back on him to create something positive.

With the help of strong choral voices consisting of Detroit divas Bevlove and Vespre, Anderson manages to orchestrate a reformed gospel song in which the world is her church, love is her God, and truth is her bible. Released just in time for June’s Pride celebrations, “Real Love” serves as a reminder that no one in the LGBTQ community should ever feel alone.

“I just want people to know that they’re not alone and it’s okay to be who they are,” says Anderson. “It’s not as scary as you think.”

Flint Eastwood will play her first Detroit show in over a year this Friday, June 29th with Princess Nokia at MOCAD. Doors at 7pm, tickets $25.[/fusion_builder_column][/fusion_builder_row][/fusion_builder_container]

ONLY NOISE: Mark E. Smith is Dead, Long Live Mark E. Smith!

For years I was certain that the Fall’s 1982 album Hex Enduction Hour was in fact called: Hex Education Hour – perhaps referring to some BBC instructional program for budding witches. An ex had ripped the record onto CD for me and delivered it in a sort of comprehensive British post punk bundle, which contained discs by Gang of Four, New Order, and the Smiths. I would like to blame my misreading of Hex Enduction Hour on the illegible sharpie scrawled across my copy. Unfortunately, I can’t find the CD anywhere. Maybe it was improperly labeled The Hex Education Hour, or maybe the correct name was printed in two-inch block letters and I was simply trying to extract a real word from “Enduction.”

It took almost a decade to realize that I’d been saying the title wrong the whole time, and it was the Fall’s fearless leader Mark E. Smith who corrected me. In a late night YouTube hole I chanced across an interview with Smith and then Fall member Marc Riley circa 1982, right around the release of Hex Enduction Hour. The interviewer – offensively tan next to Smith’s blanched skin – was curious: “Why the title and what does it mean?” “It’s a word I made up,” Smith said. “It’s like an induction into the Fall.”

In one deadpan sentence, Mark E. Smith had righted my error and summed up what Hex Education Enduction Hour had meant to me. It was without a doubt my induction into the Fall. It was also one of those records that changed my perception of music as I knew it. I had never heard anything like the Fall before, and yet it was immediately clear how many bands had Xeroxed their style. The opening seconds of“The Classical” felt revolutionary – the hand drums, the cowbell, the fuzzed-out bass, and of course, the legendary Mark E. Smith, screeching and slighting throughout. There’s no shortage of rage in the history of punk music, but when Smith barked, “Hey there fuck face! Hey there fuck face!” it cut more deeply – and with a serrated knife, to boot. I played that song endlessly, especially while walking, just to marvel at the banshee squeal Smith mustered while shouting, “Too much romantic here/I destroy romantics, actors/Kill it! Kill it! Kill it!” From those jarring first bars of “The Classical,” I was on board.

Smith embodied a rare role within the post-punk arsenal. He was an agent of rage but also a poet. He possessed a wonderfully dark sense of humor, but was volatile and hard to get on with. The only constant member of the Fall, Smith went through roughly 66 bandmates in 40 years, as he was prone to firing musicians – provided they didn’t quit first.

On Wednesday morning, Smith passed away at age 60, after years of failing health. The news circulated in my office while I was at lunch, and I was reminded of how much the world can change in the time it takes to eat a sandwich. Without hesitation, I sought solace in two people: Robert Sietsema, and Marc Riley. Sietsema is the senior critic at Eater NY, and his tenure as a New Yorker, journalist, photographer, and bassist in the skronk band Mofungo allowed him to brush up against some of the city’s most interesting characters in the past few decades. One of them happened to be Mark E. Smith.

“In the early 80s, the Fall was one of the most influential bands on the burgeoning New York punk music scene, and would visit to play at small clubs or even medium size clubs two or three times a year,” Sietsema told me over e-mail. “They would always shack up at the Iroquois Hotel near Times Square. I was working sporadically for the New York Rocker at the time, and got an assignment from editor Andy Schwartz to cover the band, which most of the staff didn’t quite understand or know what to do with.”

Sietsema went on to describe an after-show encounter he had with Smith, during which he invited the Fall to swing by his place before their next gig. “Mark willingly agreed,” he said, “and so I set out a buffet featuring cheese and luncheon meat at my tenement apartment on 14th Street between B and C. At the appointed hour, the buzzer rang, but when I buzzed the visitors in and went to the door, it turned out to be just him. He’d neglected to invite the band. I eventually realized that it was by design, that there was a great gulf between him and his musicians.”

This gulf was evident in the Fall’s rotating cast of members. One of these members – the aforementioned Marc Riley – became an important part of my musical education before I realized that he co-wrote and performed on Hex Enduction Hour. Riley was a member of the Fall from 1979 to 1983, but was kicked out of the band for “dancing to ‘Smoke on the Water,’” as Smith famously put it. In classic Mark E. Smith form, the Fall later released a burn track titled, “Hey Marc Riley,” to the tune of “Hey Bo Diddley.”

Marc Riley has since become a DJ for BBC6 Music, a station I treat like a holy text. It was a bizarre twist of irony that Riley was the BBC6 broadcaster to announce Smith’s death on Wednesday, as the news was confirmed smack in the middle of Riley’s afternoon show. “I’ve just got to say that there’s been rumors flying around all evening about Mark E. Smith, and we’re just getting to grips with it now,” he said while Smith’s passing was not quite confirmed. He played a Sex Pistols song while awaiting the word.

“Sadly,” Riley continued after the last guitar strum of “Pretty Vacant,” “the confirmation seems to have come through that Mark E. Smith has passed away.” Riley went on to play an extended set of Fall songs, including “It’s the New Thing” and “Totally Wired.” He also played “Tropical Hot Dog Night” by Captain Beefheart and His Magic Band, noting that Smith had turned him on to Beefheart. “I remember vividly going around to Mark’s flat in Prestwich,” he recalled, “and he’d just bought that album and he played it for me – I didn’t know anything about Beefheart really at that point in time, and I fell in love with it as I did lots of other bands that he introduced me to… ” I found it funny that Smith was largely responsible for shaping Riley’s musical tastes, and that now Riley does the same for thousands of listeners as a DJ – a profession Smith has openly mocked.

When speaking to BBC6 colleague Gideon Coe about Smith’s death, Riley offered fond words despite his history with the Fall: “It is strange… I’ve not spoken to Mark for a long time, and of course after I got kicked out of the band it was a pretty unsavory time… but I have to say that I met Mark E. Smith when I was 16… The Fall were my favorite band when I joined, and they were still my favorite band when I got kicked out.”

Mark E. Smith possessed so much charisma, that despite the abuse (whether aural, verbal, or physical), his talent as a songwriter and poet were irrefutable and mesmerizing. His ability to create, not only so much work, but so much great work still baffles most critics. His ability to stay menacing into his final years was a damn near miracle.

It is so rare for music to retain its radical nature over the years. I’ve heard Ramones songs in airports and watched CBGB morph into a John Varvatos store. The revolts of prior generations get fluffed into nostalgia eventually. But the Fall never lost their knack for sonic assault. Tonight I am blaring “The Classical” from my bedroom speakers at maximum volume, and it still feels aggressive and mischievous. I wonder if I’m interrupting a Netflix binge session or dinner party next door. Part of me hopes that I am, and that an angry neighbor will rap on my door any minute to request that I turn it down. And maybe, in the spirit of Mark E. Smith, I’d just sneer and shout, “Hey there fuck face! Hey there fuck face!” I’d like to think that would make the fallen frontman smirk, wherever he is.

AF 2017 IN REVIEW: Our Favorite Albums and Singles of the Year

While there’s been many a jaded thinkpiece about the import of music critics (usually begging the question What are they good for?) and the ubiquity of year-end lists can feel shallow at times, we can’t stress enough the importance of what it means to share music among friends. It’s a huge part of developing our tastes early in life – everyone has that one super cool bestie who introduced you to your favorite band in middle school – and as we get older, if music remains a source of passion in our lives, it becomes something we bond over as new relationships form.

Here at Audiofemme, we think of our readers as friends, so we made a list too. It’s not definitive, it’s not authoritative, and it’s (hopefully) not pretentious – just a round-up of the albums and singles that soundtracked the year for our regular writers (and, of course, your editors). We hope it will result in discovery as one year becomes the next; perhaps that album you missed back in February will get you through this winter, here and now. Music exists on a continuum, and even though the releases were highlighting now all came out within a particular calendar year, we don’t have to put them aside as we turn the page. Stay tuned for more features over the next week recapping 2017, and in the meantime, take a listen to some of our most beloved tunes.

EDITOR LISTS

Annie White (Executive Director)

Top 10 Albums:
1) Zola Jesus – Okovi
2) the xx – I See You
3) Jlin – Black Oragami
4) King Krule – The OOZ
5) Perfume Genius – No Shape
6) Kelela – Take Me Apart
7) Julien Baker – Turn Out The Lights
8) Slowdive – Slowdive
9) SZA – Ctrl
10) Priests – Nothing Feels Natural
Top 5 Singles:
1) Aimee Mann – “Goose Snow Cone”
2) Rostam – “Don’t Let It Get To You”
3) Lorde – “The Louvre”
4) Cardi B – “Bodak Yellow”
5) Charlotte Gainsbourg – “Deadly Valentine”
Lindsey Rhoades (Editor-in-Chief)

Top 10 Albums:
1) Mount Eerie – A Crow Looked at Me
2) The War on Drugs – A Deeper Understanding
3) Slowdive – Slowdive
4) Sophia Kennedy – Sophia Kennedy
5) SZA – Ctrl
6) Circuit des Yeux – Reaching for Indigo
7) Kelly Lee Owens – Kelly Lee Owens
8) Big Thief – Capacity
9) Havah – Contravveleno
10) sir Was – Digging a Tunnel
Top 10 Singles:
1) Land of Talk – “Inner Lover”
2) Xiu Xiu – “Wondering”
3) The National – “Nobody Else Will Be There”
4) Jlin – “Holy Child”
5) Marika Hackman – “Boyfriend”
6) Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith – “An Intention”
7) Wolf Parade – “Valley Boy”
8) Syd – “Body”
9) Perfume Genius – “Wreath”
10) Pixx – “Toes”

STAFF LISTS

Madison Bloom (Only Noise)

Top 5 Albums:
1) Happyness – Write In
2) Timber Timbre – Sincerely, Future Pollution
3) Aldous Harding – Party
4) Kendrick Lamar – DAMN.
5) Perfume Genius – No Shape
Top 3 Singles:
1) Aldous Harding – “Imagining My Man”
2) Blanck Mass – “Please”
3) Benjamin Clementine – “Phantom of Aleppoville”
Ashley Prillaman

Top 5 Albums:
1) Valerie June – The Order of Time
2) Portugal The Man – Woodstock
3) Kendrick Lamar – DAMN.
4) Big Thief – Capacity
5) SZA – Ctrl
Top 3 Singles:
1) Valerie June – “Astral Plane”
2) Amber Mark – “Lose My Cool”
3) Big Thief – “Shark Smile”
Kaiya Gordon (Playing Columbus)

Top 5 Albums:
1) Princess Nokia – 1992 Deluxe
2) SZA – Cntrl
3) Paramore – After Laughter
4) Aye Nako – Silver Haze
5) Big Thief – Capacity
Top 3 Singles:
1) Cardi B – “Bodak Yellow”
2) St. Vincent – “New York”
3) Japanese Breakfast – “Machinist”
Sara Barron (Playing Detroit)

Top 5 Albums:
1) Daniel Caesar – Freudian
2) Jamila Woods – HEAVN
3) Moses Sumney – Aromanticism
4) Kurt Vile and Courtney Barnett – Lotta Sea Lice
5) Kevin Morby – City Music
Top 3 Singles:
1) St. Vincent – “New York”
2) Snoh Aalegra – “Fool For You”
3) Cigarettes After Sex – “Sweet”
Elizabeth Wakefield

Top 5 Albums:
1) Bambara – Swarm
2) Angel Olsen – Phases
3) Bjork – Utopia
4) Surfbort – Bort 2 Death
5) Liars – TFCF
Top 3 Singles:
1) Alexander F – “Swimmers”
2) Weeping Icon – “Jail Bilz”
3) Uni – “What’s the Problem?”
Tarra Thiessen (Check the Spreadsheet)

Top 5 Albums:
1) Francie Moon – So This is Life
2) The Big Drops – Time, Color
3) Angel Olsen – Phases
4) Lola Pistola – Curfew
5) Thelma & The Sleaze – Somebody’s Doin Somethin
Top 3 Singles:
1) Bizarre Sharks – “Tremendous”
2) Ty Segall – “Black Magick”
3) Fruit & Flowers – “Out of Touch”
Jamila Aboushaca

Top 5 Albums:
1) ODESZA — A Moment Apart
2) Royal Blood — How Did We Get So Dark?
3) Cut Copy — Haiku From Zero
4) Khalid — American Teen
5) Lana Del Rey — Lust For Life
Top 3 Singles:
1) Rostam Batmanglij — “Gwan”
2) Cut Copy — “Standing In The Middle Of The Field”
3) alt-J — “In Cold Blood”
Natalie Kirch (Pet Politics)

Top 5 Albums:
1) Def Grrrls – GRLS
2) PILL – Convenience
3) Fruit & Flowers – Drug Tax
4) THICK – It’s Always Something
5) Fraidycat – Other Better Places
Top 3 5 6 Singles:
1) Holy Tunics – “Victoria”
2) Alexander F – “Call Me Pretty”
3) Grim Streaker – “Miami Girl”
4) Lost Boy ? – “Mr. Dribble Drab”
5) Haybaby – “Yours”
HONORABLE MENTION: Bad GP – “The GP Stripes Theme Song”
Suzannah Weiss (High Notes)

Top 5 Albums:
1) Laura Marling – Semper Femina
2) Galantis – The Aviary
3) Robin Schulz – Uncovered
4) Sleigh Bells – Kid Kruschev
5) Björk – Utopia
Top 3 Singles:
1) Marshmello ft. Khalid – “Silence”
2) Martin Garrix ft. Troye Sivan – “There for You”
3) Dua Lipa – “New Rules”
Mandy Brownholtz

Top 5 Albums:
1) Alvvays – Antisocialites
2) Waxahatchee – Out In The Storm
3) Future Islands – The Far Field
4) Priests – Nothing Feels Natural
5) King Woman – Created In The Image Of Suffering
Top 3 Singles:
1) Alvvays – “NotMy Baby”
2) Yumi Zouma – “December”
3) Charly Bliss – “Glitter”

TRACK PREMIERE: Cassandra Violet “Invisible Man”

Cassandra Violet, much like Batman, lives a double life. When she’s not teaching high schoolers, she’s creating music that spans the genres of rock, folk, and pop. In the past, Violet’s music slanted toward melancholy modern folk, with songs like “Beyond The Fray” and “Lady” painting portraits of desert sands and long lost love.

Her new track “Invisible Man” is a refreshing drink on a hot day. There’s an aggressiveness, an edge to Violet’s voice that takes center stage, balancing the sweet piano and subtle horn section. In a year full of negative headlines and desperate news stories, “Invisible Man” is a sunny diversion from the darkness.

We spoke with Cassandra Violet about breaking out of her folk roots and how a horn section really does make all the difference.

AF: You’re a rare bird: a native Angelino! You grew up in Venice, which I’m sure has changed a lot since your childhood. What was it like growing up by the beach?

CV: Venice was really different when I was growing up there! It was less expensive, for one thing, so artists who weren’t wealthy could actually live there affordably. I remember there being some gun violence and gang activity. It definitely was not the Google mecca it is now. My parents still live there (both of them are artists) and every time I go over there, it’s so strange. Like everyone is under 30 and brewing their own kombucha and going to spinning classes. Not to hate on Venice!

AF: Yes, it’s all Andrew Keegan and hot yoga nowadays.

CV: It’s just this insane example of what happens when a place gentrifies the most it could possibly gentrify.

AF: In terms of the art community, do you still see it coming up out of the concrete? Or has the scene mostly moved?

CV: I know artists who still live there, but a lot of them are from my parents’ generation, I think. I know there are exceptions, but I think a lot of creative people have moved further east.

AF: At what age did you first take interest in music?

CV: I was really young when I realized I loved to sing, and that I could imitate a sound when I heard it. Also, my dad taught me how to whistle when I was little, probably around five years old. I got really, really good at whistling, better than him.

I started to play the clarinet in fourth grade, and in middle school and high school I sang and played clarinet in band and orchestra. I really loved music but I always felt really constrained playing classical music. I wanted to experiment more, and I really loved writing, but it took me a long time to sit down and write a song.

So, I guess you could say I come from more of a classical background. The only music that my parents played around the house was classical music and jazz. My dad loves Wayne Shorter. And that was a great musical education, but I had to figure out my own way of creating and accessing pop music. The point of making music for me is that it’s a pure form of expression, and it is completely free for me to do whatever I want, and become whatever person I want to become.

AF: What were some of your early pop music finds?

CV: Gosh. Ever since I can remember I have gravitated towards women singing autobiographically. When I was younger I was obsessed with No Doubt and Fiona Apple and Lauryn Hill. I also always loved pop singers from the ’60s like Dusty Springfield, and obviously jazz singers like Ella Fitzgerald and Sarah Vaughn, who have this insane control of their instrument. But I’ve always been most inspired by music that makes me want to move, so I changed things around.

AF: When you’re not weaving tunes, you work as a teacher for the LA Unified School district. You’ve said in interviews that you like to keep those two worlds separate, as your music is of an intimate nature. Do you find that your students influence your creative side in spite of that separation?

CV: I think the separation is pretty essential for me to be able to feel like I have complete freedom to create whatever I want to create. I will also say that the world has gotten pretty dark, and I think making art is one thing that everyone can do to make their voice heard. I constantly tell my students that art is the most powerful thing they can have access to, and encourage them to make art, because they have amazing stories and because art brings people together in these trying times. I always tell them to be vulnerable when they are performing, so I guess it is a little bit of pot calling kettle black. But I don’t want to think about work when I am making music! I want to be completely free.

AF: You said your last EP Body & Mind was created “alone in my apartment with a guitar, a loop pedal, and a tambourine.” What was the process like for your new record?

CV: I write songs by making a loop on my trusty Boss RC50 loop pedal, and then adding words, and then adding more chords. My loop pedal is covered in dust and has probably 100 loops on it right now. For this EP, I really collaborated with Derek Howa, who produced it and also cowrote and arranged the record. We wanted it to sound contemporary but with a retro feel. Brijesh Pandya (drums) and Brad Babinski (bass) were really important to the sound too. In the middle of arranging the record I went to New Orleans for New Years Eve and became obsessed with brass instruments, and I immediately wanted a horn section on the EP. Ryan Kern wrote the horn arrangements and Jonah Levine and Conor McElwain played horns. But all of the songs started with me in my living room on a loop pedal.

AF: “Invisible Man” has such a bright, cheery, upbeat sound. Can you give us a little background on this track?

CV: Yes! I had written some really dark songs with a folky vibe, and I was starting to feel kind of trapped by this folky persona. I wanted to write something honest and true, but I wanted it to sound as poppy and catchy and shimmery as possible. Derek also really helped create that sound with the chord arrangements and the synth lines. So, the song itself is about this sort of universal loneliness and longing for connection, and also about missing someone you love, but you want to dance to it and sing along.

AF: Question lightning round! Album you can’t stop listening to right now.

CV: SZA’s Ctrl.

AF: Favorite Los Angeles music venue to perform in.

CV: Oh gosh! Well I’ve performed a lot at Resident, which is always a great space. I performed at the Regent this past summer opening for Joan Osborne, which was wonderful. LA always has new great spaces to try out, too.

AF: Favorite secret LA hole-in-the-wall.

CV: I mean it’s not super secret. I find myself constantly going to Tacos Ariza next to Lassens, even though they usually have a C rating and I got mugged there once, years ago, at night. Burritos are comforting I guess

AF: Other than upbeat tunes and a horn section (which I find thrilling beyond words), what can fans expect from your new album?

CV: Fully realized songs you can dance to, about super personal and vulnerable topics, including body image, loneliness, self-doubt, and female empowerment, sung in three-part harmony! I think the topics are pretty relatable, and I really wanted it to be music you can move to. I also want to mention my amazing backup singers, Heather Ogilvy and Pamela Kilroy, who do three-part harmony with me and dance moves when we perform these songs live. It’s good vibes about personal heartaches all around.

Are you a Los Angeles native? See Cassandra Violet LIVE October 22nd at Lovesong Bar and again on December 2nd at the Moroccan Lounge. And be sure to keep an ear out for her new EP, out this December.[/fusion_builder_column][/fusion_builder_row][/fusion_builder_container]

PLAYING DETROIT: Folkie May Erlewine Charms with “Never One Thing”

Okay, so she’s not from Detroit proper, but we couldn’t help but feel moved by small-town folk songstress May Erlewine’s video for “Never One Thing,” the first single from her forthcoming record Mother Lion. Erlewine comes from a deeply musical family – her father Michael founded AllMusic – that hails from Big Rapids, and she’s released over a dozen records, both solo and with her husband Seth Bernard, since 2003. Now, she’s signaled her return with a quietly empowering anthem for the ever changing, forever incomparable woman, tinged with a honey soaked sweetness only Erlewine can deliver.

“I’m a streetfighter/I’m a prayer for peace/I’m a Holy-roller/I’m a honeybee” croons Erlewine, praising the many roles that women take on, reminding us that it is never just one thing that defines us. The video follows her delicate reign, perched on various thrones wearing a selection of various floral crowns – perhaps a subtle conjuring of Frida Kahlo. But Erlewine shatters the separation of royalty and commoner with graceful tenacity. A poetically restrained roar, “Never One Thing” is more of a mantra than just a simple folk song.

Feel the power of May Erlewine’s latest below:

MORNING AFTER: Veggie Pancakes and Ale with Lost Boy ?

Origin stories: they’re typically how I kick off these off, some pseudo-enticing meetcute in the heart of the scene. A half-drunken beg for an interview, an impromptu striptease, a deep side-eye at Two Boots Williamsburg. A chat in front of Little Sunnyville Gutterway Footskips Stadium. A bite from a radioactive spider. I mentally collect these origin stories, and yet I cannot remember meeting Davey Jones. Instead it feels like Davey’s been the perennial maypole at the center of our scene, linked to everyone. Lost Boy ?, as you damn well know, is a staple.

Incidentally, I played the everliving fuck out of my creamsicle copy of Goose Wazoo last October, savoring the trillions of clever pop culture references, floating in legitimate lo-fi heaven. Recently, Davey’s really inking and coloring the sound; the most recent Silent Barn iteration of the band is fleshed out by Jeremy Aquilino on bass, Adam Reich on guitar, and Charlotte Kahn on drums (and everyone else on air guitar).

But today it’s just the two of us, because Davey is fam, and with fam, you message them late on Friday like, “Dude, I was serious about having you as my October column, plz let’s hang out tomorrow.”

Anyway, I love a good Saturday morning adventure. Stay tuned.

The Scene: “We’re going to find Davey…and I don’t think that should be hard…because he is approximately…9 feet tall…give or take,” I mumble into my second iPhone, weaving around stacks of post-punk standards.

It’s the Brooklyn Flea Record Fair and in between quick flips of vinyls (hmm, do I need to throw down $10 for the Rock N’ Roll High School soundtrack?) I’m struggling to find Davey. But oh! There he is, and after salutations, he digs out his finds. The objective was Massive Attack, which he found for the decidedly NOPE price of $55.

“But I got Mosquito which is kind of an odd record,” he says showcasing the distressed pastel pink album cover. “It has Jad Fair of Half Japanese, and Steve Shelley, the drummer of Sonic Youth. The vocal, I think, is supposed to sound like a mosquito.”

“Like literally, like a buzzing noise?”

“They have a weird effect on Jad’s voice the entire record,” he says before showcasing the rest of his finds: a bizarro double Cure re-issue, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, and two cassettes. (“One for Nick, one for me.”)

We decide to go into the anxiety-inducing crowd of Smorgasburg and diverge to get our food; he’s gonna get the vegetable pancakes and word is the mozzarella sticks are hella good.

But like Rock N Roll High School, we confirm they’re not $10 good.

12:46 “You gotta get in on this,” Davey says, offering his plate of Okonomiyaki.

“Oh, I’m gonna get in on this.” I say, forking a sizable, quick-to-crumble bite. We’re in line about to grab beer and a table, a slow rendition of “Feel It Still” soundtracking our orders. There’s chit-chat about the Sharkmuffin girls (Nat is his GF, Tara is my Russell Hammond, you may know them from this website and just about everywhere else) and how they’re finally gonna be home after touring all year. Then I ask Davey how he wants to wrap up his 2017.

“I’m thinking maybe I’ll work on one animation specifically, and put it to song. It’s been kinda on my list of things to do. And I’ve been working on this character for a while.”

“THAT’D BE SO COOL, like a Lost Boy ? music video that you’d animate yourself?”

“I actually have like two characters, so I think they might both appear. I gotta figure out what the body would be for the bird with the spikey hair.” I demand receipts for these characters and he graciously provides them:

“Is he like a donkey…?” I ask.

“He’s kind of like a rabbit meets a bird, and then he has Goofy teeth.”

“I love the hat, the hat is a nice touch,” I say, before he introduces me to Nosey and Bosey.

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I squint at his iPhone screen. “So what are their personalities? This one seems sad…”

“Nosey’s like, obviously a nosey-body,” he explains. “And Bosey’s the kind of character that gets into trouble. Probably drinks too much.”

“Well, that’s why he has the stubble,” I confirm.

“He has stubble and a red nose, and Nosey’s probably always checking in on Bosey and knows too much about what’s going on in his life.”

“He knows all of his secrets.”

“And that’s why Bosey’s kind of depressed.”

“Because he’s an alcoholic and his friend knows that he’s trash,” I confirm, now fairly certain Bosey is my spirit animal. “You know what I love about animation in general? You have to convey certain personality traits but you also have to simplify it since it’s a simpler form of art. Which I think in some ways is more difficult; you either have to exaggerate it or have a good signifier, like a red nose or something.”

He nods. “You can get a personality just by looking at the character, right. You can get it just by the smirk or by the eyebrows. Maybe the mischievousness of even like…”

“…their posture,” we finish together.

1:02 “What was your favorite ride at Disney World?” I ask, and I kid you fucking not, Davey’s face lights up at this as if we’re literally next in line for Star Tours.

“Oh, oh, the Aerosmith ride! Yeah, I loved that ride, ’cause it was so fast, I think I went on that one three times.”

I am very certain that Natalie is a saint because you could not convince me to go on that once, let alone three times.

“That one and the Tower of Terror,” he continues. “I think that was my favorite place to go in Disney. That whole park, it’s more themed for adults. It kinda looks like you’re in Who Framed Roger Rabbit, and there’s alcohol.”

“And there’s alcohol, which is the best part,” I agree, remembering distinctly when my mom bought me a $12 strawberry marg there so I would stop complaining about being in Florida.

Apparently the couple managed to hit up all the rides except the Toy Story shoot-out game and Splash Mountain, tragically closed at the time. It’ll be the first stop for next time though, for sure.

“Are you hot?” Davey asks suddenly. “I feel like you’re in the sun pretty hard.”

“Um, I’m okay,” I say, developing all sort of weird tanlines.

1:27 Favorite Disney character though, go!

“It’s kind of hard not to say Mickey Mouse just because I love him so much,” Davey says, and remembering his Mickey costume at Little Skips last Halloween, I’m not surprised.

“He’s so classic though,” I feel this feel really hard because Brooklyn Year One was spent wearing a lot of red, white, and Mickey ears.

“It’s also just because Mickey was so innovative for future characters in a lot of other cartoons that aren’t even Disney.”

“He was like a template.”

“It’s not even that Mickey Mouse was the first cartoon, but he was just a perfectly crafted character,” Davey explains. “Now, from my understanding, Walt Disney did not totally create Mickey Mouse, I believe it was one of his good friends that designed Mickey Mouse. But even so, the character and his personality is so well developed, and so influential to Felix and even Popeye. Without Mickey Mouse you wouldn’t have great animation.” He pauses. “Mickey and Minnie Mouse, really,” he clarifies (#equality).

1:32 Btw some point around here we chit-chat of typical Saturday afternoon: propaganda cartoons, the utter terror of this administration, and whether people at their core are more good than evil. And we talk about Halloween costumes—him and Nat are going to “keep rocking the mouse theme” and go as Pinky and the Brain. I’m probably gonna be 1995 Gwen Stefani on this album cover.

“And I’m considered hiring, legit hiring some of my musician ex-lovers to be the three blurry guys in the background,” I explain.

“You should get together a No Doubt cover band of your ex-lovers and call it Tragic Kingdom,” Davey says.

We burst into a fit laughter as I die inside (only a little).

Anyway, I’d love to tell you more about that, but…

1:56 “Goddammit, we might need to hang out more because my phone just overheated and died.”

Luckily, Davey and I are both yearning for ice cream and figure it might be a good plan to antagonize our friends at the Van Leeuwen trucks.

We skim through a sidewalk sale where a man is unloading all of his music. I, someone who hates music entirely, chastise this guy for getting rid of all his Siouxsie & the Banshees impulse buys. Davey, ever a consummate music collector, reluctantly picks up another handful of cassettes, including a last minute Tears For Fears album.

“It’s funny because I was looking for that exact Tears for Fears album, and I didn’t even notice it, I just went back and double-checked.”

“There’s like, few greater joys than finding something in a different way then you’d expect it.”

We say hi to Zach (of Darkwing) at the Bedford hub, before hitting up Nick Rogers (of Holy Tunics and like one episode of Girls), and Lisa Mayer (of…all of our hearts) by Transmitter Park. There is a graphic design expo, so we hit that up before parting ways. The day, regardless of the tech heatstroke and the fact that everyone’s out of summer berry crumble, has been fruitful AF.

In one day we’re centralized in literal and figurative festivals of art, music, friendship and $10 motz sticks (I stroll by the Intimacy Expo on my way home but, mmm, hard pass). I love it: it’s like Brooklyn on steroids. And it feels right that I’d have this mini-adventure with Davey, even though, and now it’s nagging on me, I don’t remember when I met him.

But I guess that’s fine. That’s how it is with ubiquitous characters, particularly ones that define a culture in a few brilliantly simple strokes. You don’t remember being introduced to your big brother. You don’t remember the first time you saw Mickey Mouse.

You’re just grateful that you both co-exist in this weird, wonderful world.[/fusion_builder_column][/fusion_builder_row][/fusion_builder_container]

TRACK PREMIERE: Sara Curtin “Or So It Seemed”

Photo by Amanda Reynolds (Plume Photography)

Sara Curtin’s music is pretty darn dreamy. Her voice creates a tapestry of delicate sound. Half of Washington D.C.’s The Sweater Set, Curtin’s solo effort takes that precious quality and gives it a little edge.

“Or So It Seemed,” the title track off her new EP, is darker than her usual fare. Curtin said she channeled her “inner Jack White” while writing the track, which explores “the mind’s tug-of-war as it comes to grips with understanding perceived memory vs. reality.” “Oh what a waste of time, to hold on to what used to be mine,” Sara sings, reflecting on her own artist’s journey. It’s a song for a subway ride turned hour-long reflection; a song for creative people who doubt the road that got them to where they are.

We sat down with Sara at talked about her writing process, the D.C. music scene, and her past life as a fishmonger.

AF: Tell us a little bit about growing up in D.C. Did you live in the suburbs or the city?

SC: I grew up in the city, not too far from where I live now. I left D.C. to go to college (University of Michigan in Ann Arbor) and then lived in Brooklyn for four years. I’ve been back in DC for about six years now.

AF: What is the vibe of D.C.? Does it have that NYC swagger or is it more laid back?

SC: D.C. definitely has it’s own vibe. It’s a smaller city, so it is a bit slower paced, but there’s a lot going on here. The music and art scene is really exploding. There’s a lot of political energy here, too.

AF: Your mother is a musician, as is your brother. Are you three in simpatico when it comes to music? Or do your tastes differ?

SC: We do have different taste, but my brother and I overlap and we share a lot of musical sensibility, too. We both do production work and often discuss arrangement choices. He made a cameo on this new album, actually! He played theremin on the last song “Run If You’re Ready”. My mom was my first teacher. She taught me how to sing in harmony and how to play the guitar.

AF: Many people may know you as a half of the duo The Sweater Set. How would you define the differences between The Sweater Set and your solo efforts?

SC: For me, making solo albums apart from The Sweater Set is about exploring the possibilities of different sounds. The Sweater Set has been predominantly acoustic and this solo project is driven predominantly by electric guitar. I also arranged these songs with the full band including bass (Ryan Walker), drums (Brendan Polmer), and lead guitar (Olivia Mancini). Maureen Andary, who is my partner in The Sweater Set, is also singing on this album!

Like I mentioned before, I also do production work, so one of the most exciting parts of making recordings for me is always sitting down at my computer, with my voice and instruments and exploring different arrangements. That’s a very personal process and I love taking the time to develop the songs in this way.

AF: Tell us about “Or So It Seemed.” It’s the title track off your new album, and has a very different feel to it than a lot of your earlier work. The opening notes have an aggressiveness to them that I really enjoyed.

SC: Thank you so much! That makes me so happy. “Or So It Seemed” was a hard song for me to write. It began as a tender, pretty song on acoustic guitar with this delicate fingerpicking pattern in 4/4 time. The words were the same and when I was finished writing it, it just felt like something was wrong. The darkness of the lyrics was not coming across. The music was boring and it almost felt dishonest. That’s when I sat down with my electric guitar. I turned my amp up really loud and thought to myself, “What would Jack White do?” I think he’s great and I wanted to make something that felt raw. That’s when I started playing the new guitar riff – almost like a bass line. The time signature is all wacky – my band and I have disagreements on how we count it, actually – and it’s a little bit unpredictable. It felt perfect for the lyrics. Thematically, the song is about reality vs. perception; what percentage of our remembered experiences actually happened the way we remember them? The repetitive and slightly jarring rhythm of the new guitar riff stuck with me as a good representation of what it’s like to feel like you think you know what’s going on one minute, and then be a bit disoriented the next when reality suddenly presents itself in a new light.

AF: Do you normally start with the lyrics? Are you someone who begins a song with a concept, or a line?

SC: Usually, when I sit down to write, the music and lyrics come out together. Then I continue to edit, but normally the skeleton of the song stays the same. This one was different and it took me a little bit longer to land the plane. I’m glad that I threw the first draft away, though.

AF: You launched your own record label, Local Woman Records. You’ve said you wanted to share your experience and “help other artists lighten their load so that a little more of their day can be dedicated to creating and playing.” How is the venture going so far?

SC: I feel really great about LWR’s first release – “Hi From Pillows” by Kaeley Pruitt-Hamm! We were able to work really closely with this release and combine efforts in a way that I’ve never done before. I look forward to working with other artists in the near future! This business is so much about building relationships and surrounding yourself with good people, so I hope I can continue to be that support for others.

AF: You’ve spoken a bit about how supportive the D.C. music scene is. Who are some local D.C. musicians that we should keep an ear out for?

SC: Oh man, there are so many active bands and artists right now! Just this past weekend Black Alley won the first annual Battle of the Bands hosted at Paisley Park in Minnesota. Good friends of mine The North Country are also about to release a new album this fall and I’m really excited for that.

AF: I read that you were once a fishmonger in Brooklyn. Can you give us some details on that?

SC: So, I was a fishmonger in Brooklyn for three years and it was my favorite job. I worked for Blue Moon Fish which is a husband and wife run operation. I worked for them at their market in Grand Army Plaza on Saturday mornings. They actually just released an incredible cook book with beautiful photos and stories!

There’s a line in “Or So It Seemed” that was inspired by my time as a fishmonger: “Made a million dollars, or so it seemed. Serving lines, wiping counters. Make ends meet.” At that time in my early twenties I was living in New York, working the farmer’s market and at a pizza restaurant (both are near to my heart). I felt rich and full. It was wonderful and it was a struggle.

AF: Sounds very Just Kids like to me.

SC: Loved that book! I was living in NY when it came out and I devoured it.

AF: I once bought that book full price and harassed my best friend into meeting me in Union Square to give her that book. Because she was struggling with being an artist and I knew she needed it. One of those “artist to artist, you need this” moments.

SC: I probably would have stood on the corner shouting passages from that book.

AF: You have a few other music projects currently in the works. Can you give us the down low?

SC: Right now I’m performing with this solo project (we go by Sara Curtin Five when we play out), The Sweater Set, and I play with Justin Jones (guitar and vocals in his band), as well as sing with The Cowards Choir which is a folk seven-piece with lots of harmonies and a string section. My lead guitarist Olivia Mancini also has her own badass band and I occasionally jump in with them, as well. Like I said, D.C. has a lot going on! There are local shows pretty much every night of the week here!

AF: Other than shouting Patti Smith’s poetry, what advice would you give a young fishmonger looking to make music?

SC: Did you see the new St. Vincent promo videos?? She says the advice she would give to young musicians is “Go into the film industry.” I’d still like to encourage people to make music, of course. It’s been ten years since I graduated from college and started really performing and recording original music. This will be my third solo album (with four others by The Sweater Set). I guess the advice I could give is just to be patient. Finding your sound and getting to know yourself takes time, it takes mistakes, and I’m still figuring it out. Sorry if that sounds trite. I often need the reminder to be patient.

Sara’s new album Or So It Seemed will be released October 6, 2017 on her own Local Woman Records. Want to see Sara live? Check out her tour dates below!

Sept 29 – RICHMOND, VA. Hardywood Brewery
w/ Anousheh & Sammi Lanzetta. 6:30 pm.
Sept 30 – BALTIMORE, MD. Holy Underground
w/ Heroine. 8:00 pm. $5-$10 donation.
2021 Maryland Ave. Baltimore, MD.
Oct 6 – BROOKLYN, NY. C’mon Everybody
w/ Adios Ghost & Ruby Rae. 8pm. $10
Oct 21 – ANN ARBOR, MI. Canterbury House
Solo Show w/ Zach Lupetin (of the Dustbowl Revival)
Oct 26 – WASHINGTON, DC. Black Cat
w/ PNMA & more tba. Tix on sale NOW.
Nov 6 – LOS ANGELES, CA. Hotel Cafe
Monday Monday showcase. Solo Set.[/fusion_builder_column][/fusion_builder_row][/fusion_builder_container]

ALBUM REVIEW: Alvvays, Antisocialites

If Alvvays’ eponymous first record articulated a quintessentially modern fear of commitment, then newly released follow-up Antisocialites captures the next logical step, which is an ambivalence about it.

The Toronto band gained momentum in 2014 with their self-titled debut, a nine-song batch of whimsical but sharp tracks that bemoaned romance as a twenty-something in the 2010’s, touching on all the hurdles we face from student loans to threatened personal ambition that comes with partnering up and settling down. In terms of lyricism, frontwoman Molly Rankin combined a wry sense of humor with the warmest sentiments to create songs that could tug on your heartstrings without making you roll your eyes, set against a backdrop of infectious dream pop. Antisocialites offers an aged version of this, matured by three years of life experience.

Lead single and first track “In Undertow” sets the tone for the record as older and more reserved. Frankly, this is a record about not giving a fuck anymore, or at least feigning that attitude. Rankin sings: “Can’t buy into astrology/Won’t rely on the moon for anything.” This is about guarding yourself with pragmatism, approaching life with the mindset of protecting yourself and your heart first before anything else. She lists off the things she does to fill the time now – “meditate, play solitaire, take up self defense” – literally all solitary activities, a means of reinforcing the wall you craft around yourself when something else falls apart.

Already, the sound on the record is dreamier and somehow more solemn than their scrappier, more guitar-driven songs like “Adult Diversion.” That vibe continues as the LP ventures into second track “Dreams Tonite,” alluding more to its slower, sadder tracks like “Red Planet” and “Party Police.” The record’s title is derived from its lyrics, again pointing back to the idea of closing oneself off to possibilities because the chance of gaining something is equal to or less than the fear of losing something greater. Rankin goes so far as to ask if she’s being naive, as if the idea of something working out it so unlikely that she’ll write it off as a failure before it even begins.

But while this guardedness can be dangerous in the sense of shutting oneself off to new possibilities, it can be a godsend in terms of self-sufficiency and demanding more. “Plimsoll Punks” retains the whimsy of the first record while drenching it in jadedness, a rejection of the type of people whose approval you used to crave. “Your Type” is about the refusal to put up with the sort of things you used to look past, about being so satisfied with your life as is that you won’t take someone else on just for the sake of someone else being there: “Let me state delicately that you’re an O and I’m an AB.”

This culminates on arguably the best track on the record, “Not My Baby,” in the sense that it balances the positive attitude towards newfound solitude with a heady dose of realism, the sadness of being alone when you know what it’s like not to be. It’s this track that’s most doused in ambivalence – “No need to sit at home with a dial tone ‘cause I don’t care” – while still retaining a level of melancholy and loss. It’s the relief of it all being over, with the maddening wish that it never had to be. Rankin’s mastery as a songwriter shines through here; it’s easy to slip into platitudes of independence and letting go. It’s harder to admit that while leaving the past in the past is oftentimes the best choice, we always find ourselves wishing that everything had met the lofty expectations once rested on it in the first place. In other words, to admit your disappointment while keeping your head held high, to trade in your “rose-colored shades for a wide lens” – this is invariably the stronger, more mature path to take once your path has diverged from another’s.

Alvvays tie the record up nicely with final track “Forget About Life,” circling back with lunar imagery to catch all the loose ends. Rankin sings of times “when the phases of the moon, they don’t apply / when accomplishing a simple task take several tries,” succinctly articulating her mixed bag of emotions. She can’t rely on the moon but is so tired she longs to have the matter taken out of her hands regardless. It’s worth noting that the titular character from “Archie, Marry Me” (or anyone else specific) is conspicuously absent on this second effort, as though it’s become too exhausting to name ex-lovers with anything more than an ambiguous “you.” It’s exhausting just to care that much.

All in all, Antisocialites is the a well-deserved follow-up to Alvvays. While their self-titled LP captured the white-knuckled grip of commitment, their most recent illustrates the mundane abyss that gapes at you in its absence.

TRACK PREMIERE: Anna Morsett of The Still Tide Walks the “High Wire”

The Still Tide currently reside in Denver, Colorado where they craft the kind of lovely, expansive music one expects from a town surrounded by mountains. Anna Morsett picked up the guitar at an early age; her lyrics capture the melancholy of long nights alone. We talked about her writing process and whether a change of location alters a band’s sound. Listen to The Still Tide’s new single “High Wire” below!

AudioFemme: You grew up in Olympia, Washington. What’s it like growing up in the northwest? My mind sort of melds scenes from Twilight in with a Kurt Cobain documentary.

Anna Morsett: Haha, EXACTLY. My childhood and teen years are pretty much a mash-up of the two. It was great; I feel spoiled to have grown up in such an amazing place really. I miss it all the time. Being near the water was such a gift! It was amazing to grow up in such a liberal and accepting place too. I think that instilled something important in me at such a young age. And there was so much music and art everywhere; it was always so celebrated. I think seeing that and having access to it changed my life direction.

AF: You said in an interview with FEMMUSIC.com that you got interested in music during middle school. Who were your first musical influences?

AM: Yes! My older sister would hand me over all the things she was listening to then, during my middle school years, which were a lot of Seattle bands like Nirvana and Pearl Jam. That was definitely a start. And then of course that was when Third Eye Blind’s self titled record came out and I listened to that relentlessly. I’d started playing guitar then too and really wanted to rock out like those bands. I remember spending hours online trying to learn little riffs and licks.

AF: When did you first start writing music?

AM: About then, probably when I was in seventh or eighth grade? Not of course anything exciting but realizing I could do that or wanted to was important. I think I buried a lot of middle-school feeling/realizations in private half-written songs.

AF: Have you revisited any of those middle-school lyrics for inspiration?

AM: Ha! I haven’t but I should, shouldn’t I?! I did have a collection of old tapes for a long time of those first songs…oh man. I should’ve kept them.

AF: AudioFemme, inspiring artists to search through old diaries since 2017.

AM: Haha! I really am gonna go back and find some of that . . . the last time I went through my boxes of ol’ middle school gems I found a to-do list that said something like “1. quit golf 2. practice guitar 3. take up karate”

AF: You met bandmate and guitarist Jacob Miller in New York. Why did you decide to move to the city?

AM: I decided to move to NYC to live out my dreams as an ex-golfer/guitarist/karate-master. Obviously. I decided to move there because I wanted to get involved in music, more so than I was at the time. I was living in Portland and doing open mics and stuff like that but I think I wanted a place to reinvent myself, figure myself out more and just have an adventure. I just leapt without much of a plan other than that, and moved into a crawl space – my room was four feet tall and only had three walls – in a loft building of artists Bushwick. Which was really one of the best decisions I made! It was hilarious, but such an adventure and I met so many great people.

AF: New York has such a specific energy to it. Did the city greatly influence The Still Tide’s initial sound?

AM: The city was definitely an influence! The energy alone I miss sometimes. Everyone I was around in those early days was on a mission! Always working for or towards something, struggling to get by in the name of the art, music, performance, whatever they were doing. Just running wild with experimenting in whatever arena they were in. So inspiring. And being in that community of Bushwick DIY spaces and bands changed how I thought music was possible.

As far as sound goes, it changed a lot over time. The first EP we put out is much more rock-heavy than what came later. I think that had more to do with what we were into at the time, who was in the band and the bands we were playing with and around. That, and probably just trying to be heard over the loud bars we were playing then.

AF: How has the band’s sound shifted since you and Jacob moved to Denver?

AM: We started writing songs, initially at least, that were a little more quiet and delicate. The crowds we had here were really attentive and curious about us and because we didn’t have to try to shout across the room to get people’s attention like we often did in Brooklyn, we worked harder on lyrics and on how our guitars were working together. It was really refreshing and breathed new and different life into the project. Songs that I’d been working on that hadn’t quite fit the rock thing we were doing previously finally had a landing space. Having time and space – and local support here – to explore that side of ourselves ultimately helped shape us into the project we are now.

Eventually we became more rocky again (which is more represented on this latest EP) but I think having gone through that quieter, more vulnerable performance and writing space was a really important phase to go through. I think it changed how Jake and I wrote together and how we approach new songs.

AF: How does the writing process normally work? Do you start with lyrics and go from there?

AM: Most of the time the music comes first. Usually I’ll play for hours and hours until I stumble into something I think is exciting or inspiring and then try to build it into an actual song. I have many journals that I’ve kept over the last several years with little pieces of lyrics and ideas and often I’ll just start raking through them to see if anything calls out or sticks with what I’m working on and use that as a starting point for lyrical direction. Often too, something will just spill out in that initial writing moment and I’ll just try to keep unpacking it until a song is revealed. Like finding treasure in a sandbox. Once the song is in presentable shape (roughly) I’ll bring it to Jake and our now drummer/producer pal and wonderkid Joe Richmond, and we’ll work through it together.

AF: The band has gone through a few different iterations, with you and Jacob remaining the backbone of the project. Does the process change when you add members or do they act more as support for the live shows?

AM: It does change a little, I guess. After years of playing together, Jake and I are great at working through ideas in their roughest, most unformed shapes but the songs do need to be a little bit more fully formed by the time we bring them to the rest of the band. I love how much ideas can change when we work through them as a group; everyone always brings their own flavor. That kind of collaboration keeps me inspired and excited.

AF: What’s a challenge you’ve faced as an artist that really blew you away? That you weren’t expecting at the start?

AM: So many little challenges along the way! Trying to balance time, energy and finances are all pretty tricky and generally a constant. But I’d say the biggest challenge I’ve faced was often just myself. It took a long time to learn how to get out of my own way and be braver about getting my own work out into the world.

AF: Tell us about your new single “High Wire” – I love that opening trill at the beginning.

AM: Me too! One of my favorite parts of our shows lately is launching into that song. “High Wire” is about a relationship falling apart and the energy each person in the relationship spends trying to save it when maybe it’s best to just let it go. And about how difficult it can be to make that call, especially when you’re still in love with each other but so aware of how things aren’t working. The chorus “Where do you run to / whether you want to / whether you don’t” speaks to that and the inevitable distance that creeps into a relationship while it’s unwinding.

AF: You’re currently touring through August. Will you be adding additional dates?

AM: There will be a few local shows in Denver over the fall but we’ll focus on touring again more in Spring. We’re also part of another band called Brent Cowles and will be touring with him in September and November. Wish there were more time for us to get out then too! Just so much cool stuff going on…

AF: Anything else on the horizon we should look out for?

AM: We’ve got some music videos in the works! We’ll be releasing those over the next few months. We’re also working on some demos for the next record already, so fingers crossed that we can move on that this winter.

AF: What advice would you give a middle schooler currently jotting down ninja lyrics in her diary?

AM: I would tell her to just keep going – keep working those ninja lyrics, someday they may change her whole world. Oh and then I’d ask her to send me some so I could get back to my roots. Maybe she and I could collaborate.

The Still Tide’s new EP Run Out is out this Friday.

Want to see The Still Tide LIVE? Check out their website for upcoming tour dates. [/fusion_builder_column][/fusion_builder_row][/fusion_builder_container]

MORNING AFTER: Ricotta French Toast with Def.GRLS

“I can’t really talk, I’m having brunch with…” I play with my platinum blonde wig and tug the string of my leopard print bikini top while addressing the poor Fios representative at my door. “…clients right now.” Behind me Mark Brickman and Hannah Teeter are picking out our audio-video entertainment (the Go-Go’s are a must, Metalocalypse is a strong contender, but they’re considering all my Buffys) and behind them Craig Martinson is unloading my cabinets. Saturday morning breakfast at my apartment; it’s every guys’ fantasy, and some guys’ very disorienting reality.

But they aren’t guys, they’re Def.GRLS.

Again, that includes Craig (guitar, brought the King’s Hawaiian Sweetbread Rolls, eggs, and syrup) Hannah (drums, brought the Shiny Ruby RedBird beer) and Mark (bass, brought the sriracha and his sparkling personality). And despite the very romantic sitch of this being my apartment/me being half-naked, I targeted Def.GRLS because they are fun AF. Swirling, maddening, neon, glitter-smeared, fun.

What’s funny is that you can actually hear a retro element in their songs. Craig and Mark pair high-pitched harmonies a Beach Boy would be proud of. “FinGRLess Lady” sounds like forty chopped-up Beatles songs smashed back together (is it? Maybe?) AND YET, Def.GRLS is down to tailspin into complete musical psychosis. Surf riffs turn into disco beats and marry robotic overlays, and that’s just in the mouthful of a song, “The Four Horsemen of the Acapulcolypse (War, Famine, Pestilence and Dance).” But while there’s audience awe, there’s never bafflement, just a resounding feeling of “Yaaaaas.”

So I’m bikini-clad with the wonderful Def.GRLS because when the seasons heat up, I prefer to have fun then fall in love.

That’s always my plan, anyway.

<a href="http://defgrls.bandcamp.com/track/the-four-horsemen-of-the-acapulcolypse-war-famine-pestilence-dance-2">The Four Horsemen of the Acapulcolypse (War, Famine, Pestilence & Dance) by Def.GRLS</a>

The Scene: When we’re scheduling this at Union Pool Mark asked if I come over and make them breakfast, and Craig stressed, “We make her breakfast.” I didn’t correct this, because I am a strong, independent woman who likes having people feed me and do my dishes.

Anyway, we’re at my McGolrick Park-side apartment, which is very Kate Spade-meets-pop-art-meets-pop-culture-meets-clinical depression.

2:51 Charly Bliss’s Guppy is already in my record player so we play side A as a prequel to Metalacalypse-Go-Go’s. Hannah and I are sharing her e-cig (read: I took it from her; I have boundary issues) and among chit-chat about Adam West and teeny mags she explains, “I’m new to the vape pen. Douchebag, what a douchebag,” she rolls her eyes (metaphorically) at the idea. “I haven’t had a fire cigarette in like 33 days, and I was smoking like a pack a day. And this is like…I don’t know. I feel better. It’s crazy. But also everything smells so bad all of a sudden.”

What she’s smelling is New York in heat, but I get the feel. “When I was smoking Njoys religiously I was like, this isn’t a real cigarette, I’m just a fucking asshole,” I confess. We decide to check on the boys who insist we don’t lift a finger, and to get breakfast-ready Craig puts on his matted blonde stage wig.

“Now we’re making breakfast.” “Now we’re making breakfast.” Mark and Hannah overlap each other before we all cheer at this transformation.

“Dude, that wig looks like it’s had some adventures,” I observe. It has.

“For our record release I had a batch of fake blood. I dumped it all over myself,” Craig says. “So every time I sweat at the show I end up stained red. Worth it.”

“Definitely worth it,” Mark echoes.

“You guys are like the funnest band,” I say.

“You are!” Mark shoots back

“I am not the funnest band,” I take a sip of my beer. “That’s just fake.”

3:19 While Mark (unsuccessfully) tries to teach me how to open a beer bottle with a lighter, we compose a Mad Lib. Hannah has the job of reading it back to the group.

“This Mad Libs is called, ‘I Do, I Dance.'” She says. “‘You’re sure to find hairy dancing at wedding receptions. There’s something very special and pubically touching when the bride and dick have the first dance and husband and wet fart.'”

Mark: “Yes, yes.”

“’And doesn’t the father-sadist dance always bring tears to your mega dick?‘”

Mark: “For sure.”

Craig: “Yeah.”

“‘But when the DJ starts playing sexingly the wedding classics, that’s when the orphan fun begins. Who doesn’t love the chicken dance, when you poke out your uvulas and flap them around?‘”

Mark: “YES, YES, THAT’S GENIUS.”

Craig: “That’s actually what it is.”

Mark: “It is now.”

“‘There’s the conga line, where you grab someone by the jumbo dicks, fall in line, and snake around Mary Grace’s house.'”

Mark: “YES, YES.”

“‘The hokey-pokey’s great too. You put your right butthole in, you put your right butthole out, you put your right butthole in and you twerk it all about.’”

Craig: “Yes.”

Mark: “Twerk it all about, that’s exactly right.”

“That is how you twerk,” I think. “‘Yes, wedding receptions are where it’s at. Just don’t get so caught up shaking your groove twerk-jerk that you forget to eat a super groovy piece of wedding chunks-blown.'”

More cheers erupt, as we’re all very proud of our verbal Frankenstein.

3:25 The phenomenal Vacation is on, the coffee’s done brewing, and I’m explaining my family tradition of making vomiting noise whenever I pour milk out of a cow creamer. They’ve also selected mugs that speak to each of them on a soul level: Hannah went with the (millennial?) pink mug with the skull and crossbones, while Mark settled on the timeless and elegant piggy mug. And Craig?

“I chose the ‘Queen of Fucking Everything’ mug,” He announces.

“Of course you did,” I reply. Duh.

“I thought the [fusion_builder_container hundred_percent=”yes” overflow=”visible”][fusion_builder_row][fusion_builder_column type=”1_1″ background_position=”left top” background_color=”” border_size=”” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” spacing=”yes” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” padding=”” margin_top=”0px” margin_bottom=”0px” class=”” id=”” animation_type=”” animation_speed=”0.3″ animation_direction=”left” hide_on_mobile=”no” center_content=”no” min_height=”none”][Disney] princess mug was yours,” Mark remarks.

“It is mine, I have a Sailor Moon one, too.” I look into the cabinet. “Should I do unicorns or Ava Gardner?”

“Both,” Mark and Hannah chorus.

Cups acquired, I pour coffee and milk-vomit for the gang. Mark oinks when I pour his, which is all I ever wanted.

3:35 So we’re diving into this breakfast of Craig’s design, and he’s explaining how you put ricotta cheese on the french toast first, then fresh raspberries and blackberries, and then top it off with syrup. Tl;dr it’s like taking your taste buds to Disneyland.

BUT ANYWAY, our talk turns to how excited we are about their gig at the GP Stripes Northside Showcase tonight.

“Dude, it’s going to be the best. It’s all my faves. Holy Tunics!” Mark says.

I nod.”Fucking Holy Tunics and then Sic Tic closing it out.”

“Sic Tic! I love Sic Tic.” Mark says (legit everyone’s reaction when I mention Sic Tic).

“They’re so good, they’re so friendly,” Hannah adds.

“They’re good people,” Craig says. “We had two shows back-to-back, they saw us by chance, and they were like, ‘Oh you guys are playing tomorrow night? We’ll come.’ And they did.”

“And nobody ever comes when they say they’re going to come! I was like, ‘WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE?'” Hannah throws in before my phone starts to buzz.

“OH, I’m gonna talk to my dad real quick,” I say, excusing myself from the table as Hannah calls, “Hi, dad!” after me.

3:50 Hannah’s talking about her upbringing in Kansas when Mark quips, “We’re not in Kansas anymore.”

“Good one Mark, that’s really funny,” Hannah deadpans.

“I just made that up,” Mark says. “I’m a joke-writer in my free time.”

“You’re on the Jimmy Fallon team,” Craig confirms.

“All the hits,” Mark tables back.

“Name one.”

“Drew Carey.”

“You wrote for a sitcom?”

“Back in my earlier years.”

“You were like 12?”

“All the funny jokes are mine. All the not funny ones were that other guy.”

“Mark wrote Mimi.”

Hannah interrupts their ping-ponging with, “Mimi is what my parents called me when I was in seventh grade and learning how to do my make-up.”

“I think you should bring that back,” Craig says. We decide, instead, to do a Mimi-inspired look for Craig to wear to the showcase tonight. Luckily I have sapphire eyeshadow in droves.

3:59 After I make the switch from Vacation to Beauty and the Beat, I realize how much noise we’re making, and how my Ukrainian landlady can probably hear every horrifying conversation. “But it’s the middle of the day. There’s nothing I’m technically doing wrong, except, like, cooking,” I shrug.

All the while I decide to let my social media feed know that I’m still having fun, so I start composing a status before I need to be a journalist and fact-checker.”Wait, how do I spell Def.GRLS? GRLS is capitalized, right?”

“There’s a period in the middle, no space. We were actually like ‘how annoying do we want to make this’? We decided on maximum,” Craig says. “There’s no vowels, there’s punctuation, GRLS is all capital, it’s very specific.”

“We get so mad when people spell it wrong,” Mark says.

“Well, that’s our job,” Craig replies.

Def.GRLS and I end up separated for an exhausting 5 hours, reuniting (as promised) at their Northside gig, where they brought the madness full force. Partying ensued. But around 2 am I impulsively decided to Irish exit (incidentally leaving Mark with my phone charger). As I stumbled down the street I received a Facebook message from Craig saying that he was sorry they forgot to give me a shout out. But they did write me this song:

Mary Grace

I ate breakfast at your place

Put your makeup on my face

Mary Grace

I had to leave your embrace

For our practice space

Oh dear, oh god, oh no, we’re all going to fall in summer love. Can’t you feel it?

You can stream Def.GRLs on Soundcloud or Bandcamp, and party with them anytime.[/fusion_builder_column][/fusion_builder_row][/fusion_builder_container]

ONLY NOISE: A Femme’s Guide To Northside

The first step is acceptance: you can’t see it all. It’s just not possible. The second step is showing up. But there are many more steps to doing Northside Festival right – and I don’t mean right as opposed to wrong – I simply mean having fun, staying hydrated, and not passing out from a sudden drop in your blood sugar. Take it from someone who makes a living overbooking herself at events like these (I once thought I could manage seeing six shows in one night at CMJ… after working from 9-6).

With over 350 bands playing in four days, it’s so easy to get overwhelmed, stressed, and eventually hammered with buddies to calm your nerves; the next thing you know, you missed that New Zealand artist you’ve been waiting to see for two years, who probably won’t return for yet another two years.

Sure, going to a festival like Northside is fun – but it also takes physical and emotional stamina, focus, comfy shoes, a robust bladder (or a willingness to pee in public,) and so much more. Because I can’t physically deliver care packages with tiny water bottles and snack-size packages of Goldfish to every single one of you (though I wish I could), I give you my tips for staying alert, alive, and having fun during this four-day music extravaganza.

1) Make a Plan.

First thing’s first: make a list of ALL the bands you want to see at Northside. Now chop that list in half. Now chop that list in half. If you don’t work during the days, my guess is you can swing between four and six shows a day. If, like me, you have a 9-5, it might be wise to stick to a 3-show maximum per night to stave off utter exhaustion. Got your list? Good. Now go to Google Maps. Make a route for each day of the festival; your chronological trajectory following the set times and venue locations. Obviously you can do this on your phone, but if you’re a luddite such as myself, you can print your map out, and draw on it like a treasure-hunting pirate, or disturbed toddler. (I KNOW I can just use the Google Maps app on my handheld talky computer, ok? I just like carrying paper!)

Whether you are in touch with touchscreen technology, or like pretending you’re Indiana Jones on a quest for the Holy Grail, getting your coordinates down and planning a path will definitely help you maximize the gigs you see.

2) Bring snacks.

Unless you like spending unnecessary cash on overpriced food truck items, or enjoy nearly fainting/murdering someone due to low blood sugar, I highly advise you stow away some treats in your tiny backpack. If you’re traveling sans purse, get creatively invasive with your undergarments – you’d be amazed at the places you can hide a Kind Bar. But seriously – you’re going to be out and about for HOURS. You will have more fun and be more fun if your caloric intake is on point.

3) Hydrate.

Not exclusively with beer. This one’s trickier as venues typically don’t let you bring water bottles inside. Fortunately most clubs/bars will give you tap water (and sometimes sparkle water) for free. Of course you could spend $4 on bottled water, but I’d rather cup my hands under the bathroom sink faucet and lap up H20 like a dog – an activity that will never be below me.

4) Dehydrate.

People say “Brooklyn has changed” and that you can tell “Brooklyn has changed” due to all the high-rises rising, strollers rolling, and music venues morphing into Dunkin’ Donuts and fancy gyms. But I say that the big indication for “Brooklyn changing” is that you used to be able to pee anywhere in public. I don’t mean to be crass, though I do enjoy public urination more than most people. (What? I grew up camping!) But regardless of my territorial complex, peeing in the street is a simple matter of necessity most of the time – especially during an event like Northside, when so many gigs are outdoors and have meager toilet offerings. So, if you’re doing a good job hydrating, but have a squirrel-sized bladder like me, squat in those dark, tucked away hedges; that spot behind that dumpster, between a couple SUVs, next to a traffic cone, etc. You can even invest in one of these bad boys, which helps you aim your stream like a dude.

5) Go solo.

For most people, festivals (or concerts in general) are social occasions – a time for you and a pack of pals to gallivant in shorts, meet hotties, and dance. That’s all well and good, but if you’ve never seen a show stag, I assure you you’re missing out. Fellow music journalists are used to seeing concerts alone. I have seen far more gigs solo than with friends, and while a lot of people seem to find that sad (“you’re SO brave!” they say), I must admit: it’s fucking awesome. And it’s fucking awesome for a bunch of reasons. For example:

You don’t have to stress about whether or not your plus one is enjoying the music or themselves – because you are your own plus one.
You (or at least I) tend to drink less alone, which means you spend less money!
You actually meet new people.
You pay way more attention to the music, because no one is chatting in your ear, or complaining, or asking you to hold their shit while they go to the bathroom.
You get to leave whenever the fuck you want.
You get to do whatever the fuck you want.

6) If you are feeling social, take up smoking.

I consider smokers to be one of the last unified social groups in our heterogeneous culture. Their blood runs thick – probably because smoking increases plaque build-up in blood vessels – but that’s not the point! Ok, ok, I’m not actually recommending that anybody start smoking, but if you already do it, leverage it as a way to meet people at shows! Maybe you are an ace in social situations, and don’t need the quintessential human prop (the cigarette) to help you strike up a convo. But if you are painfully shy like me and terrified of approaching people you don’t know, the best thing you can do is ask for a light. For example: “Hey, do have a light by chance? Thank you. DO YOU WANT TO BE FRIENDS?!”

7) Put your phone down.

No one wants to watch the show through your iPhone screen as you carefully direct the cinematography of your Instagram story. Just put it down and enjoy the music analog style. #Lo-fi.

8) If you can, buy a record from the merch table.

Smaller touring bands make most of their dough on the road playing gigs and selling merch. When you by an album, or a t-shirt, or a beer coozie, that $20 is going straight to starving artists, as opposed to the $0.00001 they get from a Spotify click.

9) Wear comfy ass shoes.

If Larry David can make it look cool, so can you. You’re literally going to be on your feet ALL day and night. Don’t make your feet and lower back hate you.

10) Bring a book.

While I do a lot of going to shows, I also do a lot of waiting for shows to start. I don’t know what the hell I would do if I didn’t have reading material on me at all times. I’d probably have to…talk to people!

WOMAN OF INTEREST: Ziemba

Brooklyn-based Rene Kladzyk is Ziemba, a powerhouse of creative genius and freedom. She creates powerful music, visceral music videos, and experiments with fragrances in her performance and digital releases. She aims to transcend yet accentuate the human experience and our senses. Her work is honest, inspiring, and uplifting and she realizes her creative vision by conceptualizing the symbolism in situations and life experiences.

She is a presence with a starry energy that radiates. I recently had the pleasure of experiencing her performance at Knockdown Center in Queens, a bill she shared with the Charlie Looker Ensemble and Pavo Pavo. The Charlie Looker Ensemble started the night off with an echoing intensity. Ziemba took to the stage and cleansed our pallets as two ladies fluttered throughout the audience, misting us with scents that shaped the atmosphere and guided the vibe. I felt as if it brought the audience together to the same plane of experience. Kladzyk has an intuitive stage presence and utilizes as much of the space as possible to maintain attention and flow of energy.

Her debut full-length album Hope is Never was recorded in upstate New York at Black Dirt Studios with Jason Meagher and released via Lo & Behold! Records in 2016. She accompanied the album with a multi-sensory element by pairing it with incense containing notes of cedar, lilac, and lilies of the valley picked from the overgrowth surrounding her childhood home in Forestville, Michigan, where the video for “With the Fire” was filmed.

The album is rooted in the sensations of nostalgia and melancholy. Loss, destruction, and processing death are themes in these songs. She turned me on to the music of Jerry Yester and Judy Henske with her rendition of their song “Rapture.” She beautifully and cinematically interprets this song and created for it a music video that is vivid with color and lush scenery. She said she wanted to make a video that was as fun to watch as it was to create, adding an element of hope to otherwise dismal subject matter.

Soon after, she released another 4 track EP inspired by a perspective not her own: the perspective of a cave dwelling succubus. LALA, a play on the Berber slang term for a female saint, is a representation of imperialist tensions with feminism, and archetypes of feminine empowerment through sexuality. It is the first official release from the Ardis Multiverse, a “multi-sensory imprint,” creative alliance, and synesthetic platform pioneered by Kladzyk herself.

She proves to be prolific in sonic fragrance experimentation with “A Door Into Ocean,” an ambient track released in March. It’s named after the feminist science fiction novel by Joan Slonczewski about a planet that is populated entirely by women. There is no land, just water. This track also features the LIGO chirp, which is the sound of gravitational waves as two black holes collide. Its limited edition fragrance companion is composed of sensuous waves of ylan ylang, alder wood, Texas cedar wood, and stargazer lily.

<a href="http://ziemba.bandcamp.com/track/a-door-into-ocean-2">A Door Into Ocean by Ziemba</a>She sat down with Audiofemme over some tea and records to expound upon LALA as a concept, fragrance, and what is next in her creative journey.

What inspired you or made you realize you wanted to create a multi-sensory experience with your music?

Well, I come from a background in feminist geography, and I think that as a performer I’ve always been very attentive to space, the spatial experience of sound, and the context I foster around a song. Thinking about making work in ways that are multi-sensory is a natural extension of this interest. Why is music powerful? Because it conjures feeling, it has the power to transform space and time, or even make you feel lost in a moment. I’m interested in enhancing that transportive capacity of music, of thinking of new ways to encourage audiences to engage in the sound. That they have many entry points for how they can build a web of associations, or approach the ephemeral world of a song – that’s a guiding mission for me.

How do you utilize fragrance in your live performances?

I’ve been increasingly using fragrance in live performance, and my curiosity and excitement about it keeps growing. I recently did a performance installation with artist Soojin Chang that was centered on activating emotional responses from the use of fragrance, and my last music show in NYC at Knockdown Center involved a series of timed fragrances, misted around the audience in association with specific song worlds. I’m also an artist-in-residence with art/science organization Guerilla Science and have been creating work for their fire organ. That performance will be coming up in the fall and will involve a fragrance that is changing in direct relation to the music. Meaning that I’m building an apparatus inside of the organ so that specific frequencies will trigger specific fragrance components, and the overall experience will be one in which the fragrance is a constantly undulating, evolving experience directly connected to the transformations and undulations of the sound. It’s an exciting project, and I can’t wait to share it.

Can you explain what exactly is the Ardis Multiverse?

Well, as a human, I just love to name and compartmentalize stuff, so Ardis Multiverse is a name I put on something that is actually very abstract and amorphous. “Ardis” literally means the point of an arrow, so an ardis is a nexus point for time and space, something flying through a landscape of metaphysic and material meaning. I think about making music in this way. One time I did a performance with Colin Self where we chanted we are the meaning makers, and that makes us weapon creators. And that’s how I feel about writing music, the process of generating shared meaning; it’s a similar experience to targeting and releasing an arrow. Then the concept of a multiverse relies on a premise of multiplicity, simultaneity, and kind of our big-picture way we decide to define reality.

So Ardis Multiverse is both a name that I’ve applied to my multi-sensory releases and also a growing platform/ alliance for artists who are interested in investigating the multi-sensory, expansive possibilities for sharing their work. I’m interested in having more dialogues with artists about how we create sonic artifacts in the digital age of music. Walter Benjamin’s famous essay on art in the age of endless reproducibility talks about the loss of the “aura” in creative works, that this is a symptom of mass production. And so many musicians feel this dilemma; that the experience of buying a mp3 isn’t very romantic. I want to talk to more artists and musicians who are approaching their work like urban planners, who are thinking in terms of scale and interconnectivity across space and time. My goal is to facilitate that in performance, material objects, and whatever other ephemera happens along the way.

Have you ever experienced synesthesia? What is a favorite scent of yours that evokes a memory?

I think everyone experiences synesthesia, but the question is whether or not they are identifying that experience as such, or to what extent they experience it. And to what extent they train themselves to ignore it, and force a false distinction between sensory information. Nabokov said when he was talking about his grapheme-color synesthesia: “It’s called color hearing. Perhaps one in a thousand has that. But I’m told by psychologists that most children have it, that later they lose that aptitude when they are told by stupid parents that it’s all nonsense, an A isn’t black, a B isn’t brown.”

It’s perhaps similar to the way we distinguish thinking and feeling. We know there is a difference in the process, but they exist in concert with one another. That’s how senses interact with each other. They all work together to create context and association.

I used to work with blind people, back when I was a researcher for this lab that did tactile and soundscape mapping. And when I did that job I talked to a lot of people about perception and sight. When you interact with a blind person about the way that they conceive space, how they organize spatial information in their mind and then navigate the world accordingly, you realize how much work the brain is doing all the time just to get you from point A to point B. Senses necessarily swirl around each other when you build a mental map, and we do that constantly without considering it. It’s rote. I think synesthesia is so rote that most people take it 100% for granted.

And then when you do something that exacerbates those swirling connections between the senses, like the work I’ve been making, it’s fun and playful because it reminds people that the boxes we have put around these different parts of the human experience are totally malleable.

A favorite memory scent for me is the smell of lilacs. When I was a kid we had a lilac tree right outside of our back door, and so in the spring, I would smell that scent right when I walked outside for the first time every day. It’s such a beautiful scent, and when this time of year rolls around I get so happy to be able to smell lilacs. It’s very very nostalgic. When I made my album incense it was extremely important to me that it had lilacs in it, so much so that I had the neighbors at my childhood home updating me on the status of the lilac bloom so that I made sure to time my trip correctly and get them at the right moment. It ended up working perfectly. I started out my tour last summer with a trip to my sweet decrepit childhood home to pick flowers, and everything was in such crazy bloom I couldn’t believe it. I think picking flowers is possibly the number one most therapeutic activity for a touring musician.

Have you always wanted to be an artist? Did you have creative outlets growing up?

No, not really. “Artist” is a label I embrace kind of reluctantly. It’s so vague, and most of the associations with it are brutal and miserable. I think I’d prefer to have a long list of specific descriptors on my epitaph, rather than “artist.” Plus the rules governing what gets to count as art are so dumb, patriarchal, and capitalistic. I’m not looking for the key into the art world, and I’d rather be a pioneer or a volcano, if not just a nice person.

But I have always expressed myself creatively, in one form or another. Even back when I would have identified myself more as a scientist. I don’t view being an artist and being a scientist all that differently. I’m working with my sister, who is a civil engineer, on the mapping component of the new Ziemba album, and that can be seen as an indication of my attitude toward what gets to count as art or science, truth or fiction.

I had a lot of creative outlets as a kid. My sister and I staged elaborate backyard plays, and I was constantly singing and making up songs. The other day I remembered this rule that my babysitter had made for me: “no singing at the table or you’ll get your ear pulled.” I started laughing so hard, because it had never occurred to me how annoying I must have been. I started playing the piano when I was around three because my sister had started lessons that year and I looked up to her so much that when she would practice I would try to emulate her. And I would say that reading has always been a massive creative outlet to me. Since I was very young I’ve been an avid reader, and tend to get pretty disassociated when I read because I become so lost in the world of that book.

How do you feel liberated or hindered living as an artist in New York?

Living in New York has been tremendously nurturing and liberating in terms of actually building a life as an artist. I know most people would probably say like the cost of living or something is a hindrance to being an artist in New York, but for me, I’ve always been broke and I wasn’t always this productive. I’m so grateful for the amazing artists who I am privileged to call my friends and to be constantly surrounded by people who inspire me and push me to dig deeper, to overflow. There is a palpable feeling of opportunity here, and it’s so encouraging.

What messages are you trying to convey in your work?

I often describe my music as a battle against nihilism, and that’s a very recurrent message you can find. I try to reveal pathways for hope and connection. I’m interested in uplifting people, in facilitating moments that can even be transcendent or ecstatic. I think it’s important that creators consider the energies they are proliferating in the world, and though I frequently explore painful subject matter, the intention is always to be helpful. I’d like the music, performances, materials that I make to all be supportive or delicious in some way. I don’t make the work for me, and I also don’t especially claim ownership over it. My goal is normally to see how radically I can set an idea free, to enable it to stand up on its own legs and do its own thing, and then I can watch it grow as this autonomous beast. I try not to get attached to outcomes, and instead cultivate feelings, to have the sensation of it be the actual thing. Bachelard describes the poetic instant as a form of vertical time because when you are experiencing a moment of profound poetry your sense of time can shift and expand. That’s what I’m after, a way to treat time like taffy and stretch out some glorious instant of connection.

What is your process for conceptualizing music videos? Do you have a videographer/team you often collaborate with?

I frequently work with my sister Anna, and my dear friend and collaborator Corey Tatarczuk on music videos. The three of us are all wackos, and normally the process for conceiving of a music video is a mixture of improvisation and brainstorming sessions. Even though the “With the Fire” video was different. The idea for that video came to me when I was driving in Arkansas, and I had to pull off the road because I got so overwhelmed with the vision of it that I couldn’t drive straight. It made me cry just to think about doing it, that it was possible.

What is your writing/recording process?

It’s all over the place. I have at least five different notebooks going at any one time and write songs in all sorts of different ways. Same goes for recording. I’ve recorded in many different configurations, in different types of studios, at home solo, you name it. Today I was recording in my bedroom and got my sister to send me an audio sample of her puppy barking, and now it’s in the chorus of my next disco hit. It’s all a big whimsy trip.

Do you have a set group of musicians you frequently collaborate with in the studio? Is it the same group in live performances?

The past couple times that I’ve gone into the studio it’s been solo, though there are some people who have a more permanent role in Ziemba. My sister is a key collaborator, and Rob Smith, who played drums on my album, is a dear friend and treasured collaborator. He plays live with me sometimes but is in several other active bands so it can be tricky to schedule. I play solo a lot and have a rotating cast of amazing musicians who have joined me on tours or for shows.

How did LALA manifest and make herself known to you?

I wrote the songs unintentionally from someone’s perspective that was not my perspective. Several years ago I went to Morocco for an artist residency and I first became acquainted with a hero cult figure named Aisha Kandisha. Some people say that she once lived in the time of the colonizers and would lure the colonizers away from their encampments with her beauty and murder them. For others, she is purely a spirit, and appears to men as a beautiful naked woman with camel feet.

For women, it’s a blessing if you’re possessed by her because she is this source of empowerment through sexuality. If a man is possessed by her he can never love another woman. I met a lot of men in Morocco who were married to the spirit of Aisha Kandisha. I found her fascinating and I was at her pilgrimage site, which I didn’t know beforehand. I knew I was going to a pilgrimage site to witness these ceremonies because I was interested in gnawa and djalali music, which is associated with the ceremonies that happened there.

A couple of years later I took a seminar on decadence and symbolism in fin de siecle literature. I encountered the book SHE by H. Rider Haggard that was a major hit in the late 1800’s. It’s about this character that is exactly like Aisha Kandisha. It’s a very much an imperialist western European fantasy of the exotic woman. She is this spirit that dwells in caves and she is a curse for men and her powers are located in her sexuality. I got very fixated on this figure and the archetype of the femme fatale and sexuality as a form of currency. All of the issues that it’s dealing with are not gone. We don’t know how to deal with women using sexuality as a form of power and feminists don’t know how to.

<a href="http://ziemba.bandcamp.com/album/lala">LALA by Ziemba</a>What is in LALA‘s fragrance? How does it enhance the experience?

I’m in a process of discovery with making fragrances. The way that I’m approaching it is not scientific. It’s much more intuitive. I wanted those songs to have a fragrance as a form of psychic energetic protection so that it could just be a positive experience.There are a number of reasons that I chose particular elements to include, including the color of the materials. I read about color associations that are symbolic and helpful. But it’s not a purely uplifting incense. It’s actually kind of a hard fragrance in some ways, kind of sickly sweet but also kind of metallic or alien. It’s not a fragrance I would burn on a date.

Can you talk a little bit about your upcoming album?

The album is called ARDIS which is connected to the Ardis Multiverse. It’s a parallel universe. It’s like earth if the necessary changes were made. It’s inspired by feminist science fiction. I’m working on a mapping project with my sister, meaning we are building a world from faux GPS data and bringing other artists in as well. I’m reluctant to get too specific because we are still testing out different things. But I will let you know, if you knew where to look you could access the recent release, “A Door into Ocean” through a specific point on the ocean floor on Google Earth. There are going to be a lot of portals on earth to access ARDIS. This next album is very much political commentary but the way it’s manifesting for me is trying to make something that’s very joyous and uplifting.[/fusion_builder_column][/fusion_builder_row][/fusion_builder_container]

ARTIST INTERVIEW: Kimi Recor of DRÆMINGS

Coachella recently broke my heart when rumor had it they had rejected Kate Bush as a headliner (they later explained that never actually happened). When I sat down and started listening to DRÆMINGS’ self-titled EP, I was immediately transported to the mist-filled, gloomy paradise in which Kate Bush fans dwell. Kimi Recor’s voice is part Pat Benatar, part Patti Smith, and all guttural emotion. DRÆMINGS put a dance beat to some dark subjects, including suicide, technology overkill, and even the Dakota Access Pipeline. I spoke with Kimi about living in Germany as a child, her writing process, and even got the scoop on the theme for tonight’s free EP Release Party at The Echo.

I’d love to dig right in and ask you about your childhood. Mostly because when I listen to your music I picture an ethereal Wednesday Addams burning sage and jamming out.

KR: Well, I was born and raised in Germany, and I lived there until I was about 12. I had a very creative childhood – my mother is an artist, so we were always super hands on with everything. I was a wild child, throwing a lot of temper tantrums when I was younger, but eventually I managed to divert some of that energy into just being a spaz [/fusion_builder_column][fusion_builder_column type=”1_1″ background_position=”left top” background_color=”” border_size=”” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” spacing=”yes” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” padding=”” margin_top=”0px” margin_bottom=”0px” class=”” id=”” animation_type=”” animation_speed=”0.3″ animation_direction=”left” hide_on_mobile=”no” center_content=”no” min_height=”none”][laughs]. I didn’t really watch much TV until we moved to the US, so my childhood to me feels like this very imaginative, open space in my life. We spent a lot of time playing in the woods outside of my house, so it was really wondrous.

What kind of medium does your mother work in?

KR: Well, my mother started off as a dancer, and then later became a physical therapist, but since I can remember she’s always painted or drawn, or done sculpture — my mother is kind of amazing, because she’s always made art for herself, not other people. She never really exhibited her artwork, even though it was and still is amazing. It made me realize from a young age that “success” in the art world didn’t go hand in hand with talent and that art doesn’t always have to be something you monetize.

That really is an important lesson. Artists so often lose their original intent looking for success.

KR: So true!

How old were you when you wrote your first song?

KR: I’m pretty sure I was always singing when I was super young, but I remember the first time I wrote a song and performed it in front of an audience. I was about 12 years old, had just moved to the US, and roped two of my friends into doing this weird acapella song that I wrote. We wore all black and berets, and the song’s lyrics were something along the lines of “Fear us, hear us, near us, fear us!” It was very goth, pre-me knowing what goth was [laughs].

It sounds very Macbeth to me. I love that you were already incorporating costumes!

KR: Oh yeah, I’ve always loved costumes. Since I was very young, my mother always had a costume trunk for us.

Was fashion ever a vertical you considered?

KR: When I was a teenager I modeled a little bit, and I think for a couple of years I wanted to be a fashion designer based on my experiences. But then I realized I would actually have to learn how to sew and make patterns, and I realized that I’d rather just thrift weird stuff and alter it than actually make something from scratch. It’s funny, because now my costumes on stage are very intricate and strange, but on a day to day basis, I dress almost in uniform.

You did an interview with Nasty Gal where you said “When I was younger, I used to cause myself a lot of pain, thinking it was the only way to access my creativity. Now, I realize I can just draw from the darker experiences of my past instead of creating new ones. It takes a little more motivation, but I think it still creates meaningful work.” Do you draw exclusively from your own life, or do you now pull from other art mediums (literature, film, etc.) during the writing process?

KR: Definitely both. Sometimes I’ll watch a TV show, and I’ll relate heavily to a scene or moment, and it will inspire me. I’m also hugely inspired by the political, economic, and ecological events that are happening in the world right now.

What were some of the inspiration points for The Eternal Lonesome?

KR: A lot of those songs stemmed from a time period during which I lost everything I had defined myself by. A relationship, my band, my home – all of those things dissipated within a matter of months, and writing was the only way I could deal with it. It was very much an album that dealt with loss. But there’s also a couple of songs on there that are about my past, moments that defined me in my life. It’s an album I’m very proud of, but that also caused me a lot of pain, because it took so long to get released.

Do you go through writing spurts or do you have a daily ritual? Have you noticed your writing habits shifting from this album to new music you’re working on now?

KR: I wish I could say I wrote every day and that I have a ritual of that sort. I try to do a brain dump onto paper every morning, but life sometimes gets in the way of that. The Eternal Lonesome was pieced together from songs I had already written, plus songs that I wrote to round out the album. The new EP we just released today was written with my band in a rehearsal space, so I think the energy between the two is very different.

How did the band DRÆMINGS come together?

KR: Chris, my guitar player, is my brother from another mother. We have been playing music together for almost 10 years. He taught me how to play guitar. When DRÆMINGS was still more of a solo project he would come play the live shows with me. Thorson, our bass player, came on board about two years ago, when I needed a bass player for a national tour I was going on. We got along really well, and he’s been in the band ever since. He produced and mixed the new EP at his studio. Nathaniel, our drummer, just joined the band last summer. My old drummer went to medical school, and we lucked out. Nathaniel is super awesome, and his personality fits right in. We are definitely a dorky band that likes really weird things.

Can you tell us a little about the themes on the new EP?

KR: There’s a few in there. “Fire in Hell” is about finding your voice after someone tries to silence you. “Great Escape” is our feminist anthem about the double standards women often have to deal with. “Holy Land” is about the current state of affairs in politics – it was written right around the time the DAPL protests where reaching their climax. “Drowning World” deals with the repercussion that technology has had on our emotional state. “Don’t Even Worry” was written about my friend’s suicide attempt. And “Tides” is the lone love song – it was written about unconditional love, something solid and never ending.

I definitely hear some recurring Biblical themes throughout. It seems like apocalyptic undertones are popping up in a lot of artists’ music nowadays.

KR: Definitely. I think we are all really feeling that heaviness. It’s hard not to live in fear.

DRÆMINGS has had a month-long residency at The Echo. I absolutely love that space. How’s it been going?

KR: Really amazing. Each night just keeps getting better. I love The Echo as well, it’s probably my favorite venue in L.A. They’ve been really great about letting us do our thing. Every night we’ve decorated the venue in accordance to a different theme. It’s been a lot of work but SOOOO worth it.

And this Monday is your release party show right? I’m excited to see what the theme will be…

KR: Yes! We’re so excited. The theme is fortune… and let’s just say we’re definitely ready to blow the last night out of the water.

Is a tour in the works?

KR: We are doing a bunch of West Coast runs this summer, and hopefully booking a proper national tour later in the year. We love touring, and can’t wait to get on the road.

Alright, the Double Jeopardy final question is: What do you want someone to feel when they listen to your music? Is there an emotion or tone you’re hoping to convey?

KR: I want people to relate. Growing up, music was sometimes my only friend. It made me feel like someone out there understood me, and that feeling probably saved my life. I would love if our music could do that for someone else.

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You can find DRÆMINGS self-titled EP out now on iTunes and Spotify. In the L.A. area? Be sure to drop by The Echo tonight to dance it up at the DRÆMINGS Album Release party.[/fusion_builder_column][/fusion_builder_row][/fusion_builder_container]

NEWS ROUNDUP: Prince EP, Shea Stadium Updates & More

Shea Stadium Update: Venue Needs New Location

The team behind the venue announced an unfortunate setback to their efforts to go legit: they can’t file their first round of paperwork because the landlords at 20 Meadow Street have refused to sign the documents. In lieu of a vibrant DIY space, they plan to turn the ground club of the building into a nightclub. You can read the whole announcement here. Aren’t landlords great?

You can still donate Shea Stadium’s Kickstarter fund. If a new space can’t be found, the team has stated they will refund donators’ money.
A Year After Prince’s Death, New Music Causes Controversey

An unreleased EP titled Deliverance was scheduled for Friday, but as of now it appears the Prince estate has blocked its release. A judge has issued a restraining order which prevents producer George Ian Boxill from releasing any new music, and requiring him to give the recordings to the late musician’s estate. According to Billboard, however, you can still buy the EP’s single, also called “Deliverance.” Read more about the issue here.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4vJMTKtY4U8

Eskimeaux Announce Name Change

Gabrielle Smith, who performs under the moniker Eskimeaux, announced she would be changing her name after Inuk throat singer Tanya Tagaq pointed out its offensive implications. The new name will be Ó. Smith released a statement via Pitchfork that read, in part, “As an adopted person I’ve struggled with finding an identity… The only information I have about my birth parents is that my birth father is Tlingit and everywhere I looked for more information the word “eskimo” was commonplace. Talking to Tanya about this was what ultimately helped me make up my mind to change the band name. She and I have had really different struggles, but they don’t serve to diminish one another.” In case you’re wondering, the new name will be pronounced like the letter.

Littlefield Is Moving, But Just Around The Corner

The Gowanus venue will be moving to a nearby space with an outdoor area and bar and restaurant called Parklife. It’s set to open in June, with a Kickstarter fund currently underway to help with expenses. When the space is completed, the staff promise we can “expect friendly staff, signature cocktails, and recycled materials that make up the physical space.”
Other Highlights

RIP Bruce Langhorne, aka Mr. Tambourine Man & Allan Holdsworth, Tyler The Creator wrote the new Bill Nye theme song, Babymetal’s very specific music festival, introducing flute rap(?!), this guy ate a record because of Kendrick Lamar, Pearl Jam teams up with Ticketmaster, is the new Katy Perry for real, & Elliot Smith + brunch = ?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pMc8jcvTZdQ&feature=youtu.be

ONLY NOISE: 50 Shades of Sade

Something smooth is afoot. Suddenly, as if surfacing on the pop charts for the first time, Sade is played, sung, and mentioned in nearly every room I enter. “The Sweetest Taboo” slinks across my favorite coffee shop. “No Ordinary Love” sashays through my kitchen. “Smooth Operator” blares from restaurant speakers…or comes as close to blaring as a song like “Smooth Operator” can.

Have I missed something here? I feel like I’m unhip to some universal punch line – as if the town around me has burst into a choreographed dance routine and I’m the only one who finds it strange. Was there a neglected memo? Has a viral Snapchat eluded me? There must be a reason that only a few months ago, a friend on Facebook posted this ambivalent comment:

This acted as a double Sade nod, as her name was praised both by my friend and the good people at East River Tattoo. Several months later, this surfaced:

These posts were not isolated incidents of Sade-dom. It seemed that overnight everyone was digging these soft, jazz-rock fusion tunes unanimously. Everywhere I went: it was Sade all day. All the livelong Sade.

Not long after the Facebook posts above appeared, my eldest roommate J began playing The Best Of Sade on repeat while cooking, cleaning, rolling joints, and smoking joints. He had installed a groovy lighting scheme that synced with his iPhone a few months back for “ambiance.” As Sade whispered the words to “Jezebel” he would sink the lights to a sensual blue, recline on the couch, and blow a beam of smoke across the living room. I was almost annoyed when a mysterious, hat-wearing saxophonist didn’t appear from behind one of our large floppy houseplants.

I still didn’t connect the dots between these separate instances of Sadephilia – until my other roommate started playing her.

H, my youngest roomie, is hardly ever home. She has a demanding job and a fruitful social life, and rarely plays music through the subpar speakers in our kitchen…the kitchen being the hub of our household mingling. A few weeks ago, H was making a salad. In need of a soundtrack, she hooked up her phone to our shitty kitchen speakers, and out poured Sade’s sultry “Is It A Crime.”

“That’s it,” I thought. I asked H if she had heard J playing Sade not too long ago, or noticed the singer’s sudden ubiquity this year. H could offer no explanation, and I remained puzzled. I grew suspicious of this sudden trend; as I do with all things that I feel, well, left out of. Was Jung’s theory of the collective unconscious at work? Had Sade just collaborated on a fashion line with Kenzo? Did she have a fragrance now (perhaps…Eau de Sade)? Though I’d never discovered why every “hip” Brooklyn bar was playing New Order from 2008-2012, or why every restaurant was playing T. Rex in that same time period, I would damn well find out why everyone was swaying to Sade in 2017.

First, I turned to Spotify – to the record cover I recognized the most; that blue-filtered photograph where Sade is poised au natural, smirking into our souls under twig-thin eyebrows. The Best of Sade.

It was early in the morning, and I pressed play, my mug of un-sipped coffee in hand. About to take the day’s first tipple of holy caffeine, “Your Love Is King” blasted into my ear buds at top volume, its wailing, metallic, sax riff nearly causing my coffee cup to vault across the room. So far, it was the least smooth start to the day I could imagine.

I didn’t know how to feel immediately. This was music, in which the saxophone could be described as passionate, and I hated that…but I didn’t hate what I was hearing. Sade makes the kind of music I’m supposed to dislike, on paper at least. It is oppressively pleasant – the most jarring component being that damn saxophone squawking in and out of measures. Yet on a closer listen, a song like “Hang On To Your Love” stands out as a bouncy pop number, and I find myself anticipating its hooky chorus throughout. Sade’s vocal proficiency has never been questioned, but I realize – perhaps decades after everyone else in the world – the subtle chops of her band as well. But suddenly recognizing the quality in her music doesn’t explain the Sade renaissance. I had to know more.

“Why is everyone into Sade all of a sudden?” I ask J, the roommate fond of fancy lighting fixtures.

“Is everyone?” he asks.

“Yes. Everyone. What happened? Is it the twentieth anniversary of her death or something?”

“What?”

“Didn’t she get shot? And there was a movie? J Lo?”

“That’s Selena.”

“Oh.”

Now that I knew Sade was not in fact gunned down by a rabid fan, I flocked to Google for answers.

“Why is everyone obsessed with Sade in 2017?” yielded no solutions on the search engine, but it turned out that this very question was asked a few years prior.

The Guardian and The Vulture had the most info, the former running articles like, “Why Sade is Bigger in the US than Adele,” and “Why Does Sade Have Such a Poor Reputation in the UK?”

In 2011, The Guardian printed another story entitled, “Behind the Music: The Secrets of Sade’s Success.” The paper interviewed Sade’s first producer Robin Millar, who said of the singer, “I’ve always thought there are certain voices that make people feel better: Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, Nat King Cole and Ella Fitzgerald. And when I first heard Sade I really felt she had it … She also had an amazing effect on people in the studio, both men and women – her charisma and how she looked.”

That’s all well and good, but it doesn’t tell me anything. Feel-goodery couldn’t be the only explanation for Sade’s unofficial comeback. “Feel-good” does not = hip, and right now, Sade is hip as fuck.

But why now? She hasn’t dropped an album since 2010’s Soldier Of Love, and she certainly doesn’t crop up for interviews or public appearances on the regular. For this reason Sade is often compared to reclusive pop queen Kate Bush.

In 2010, Vulture published a story about Sade’s influence on rappers, citing remarks by likes of Missy Elliott, Rakim, and even Kanye West. Apparently the smooth crooner made big waves in the hip hop scene. Souls of Mischief’s Tajai claimed that, “When I was young, her record was one of the few my mom would play that I would enjoy, too. As a kid, I’d want her to turn off her music so I could hear LL Cool J or someone like that, but Sade and Luther Vandross were two records I dug, too. Sade transcends the age gap.”

Could it be Sade’s mere timelessness that resurrected this smooth jazz siren? I had to admit that no one’s current interest seemed to be a side effect of irony…was millennials’ attention to Sade as sincere as her music? After all, Sade was the woman who sang words of pristine devotion, like “I want to cook you a soup that warms your soul”– how could she possibly inspire sarcasm?

And then, in one final Google search, I found my answer. At the top of the page read:

“Sade Supreme t shirt.”

So this is what it’s all about, eh? The wildly popular skating brand is retailing the screen print tee for well over $100 as part of their 2017 Spring/Summer line. Emblazoned on the front is a vintage black and white photo of the singer, with a gold, “handwritten” message proclaiming:

“To Supreme

Your Love Is King

Sade x”

Mystery solved? I hope not entirely.

MORNING AFTER: Donuts and Bagels With Jackal Onasis

I’m surprised when Jordyn Blakely greets me on Manhattan Ave, all seaweed hair, smudgy make-up, black faux-fur coat and a cheerful open-faced expression that should counteract her hipness. Barely an hour ago I watched her get shampooed in Stove’s “Blank” video with a stoic gaze and a steady, melancholy intonation. Before that I Spotified (that’s a word, right?) Jackal Onasis’ 2016 LP Big Deal Party, with her apathetic clear-as-a-bell vocals underlaying the foreboding guitars on the title track. I feel unworthy around the drummer behind the beats of these bands— and the most recent iteration of Kino Kimino—yet I felt instantaneously at ease with that face.

Make no mistake, Jordyn Blakely is so cool (as I say about 500 times), but such an affable quality should be mutually exclusive with coolness. Historically coolness within the scene is best matched up with aloofness, and friendliness—at least in the most cynical lens—frequently feels like a half-hearted method to get someone to attend your gig at Sunnyvale next Thursday.

I’m eager to figure out how she manages to be both these things, and doubly eager to grab bagels at Frankel’s with her.

The Scene: Jordyn’s only stipulation with breakfast was that she needed a Starbucks coffee beforehand, unable to function before being properly caffeinated. Otherwise she was open to meet me anywhere off the Nassau G, because she is v v chill.

I am v v not chill. Flashback to me dragging our mutual friend down the street the night before, asking frantically, “WHICH PLACE SEEMS THE MOST JORDYN?”

Luckily she thinks Frankel’s is cute, but like anyone who’s tiptoed into Greenpoint, has a special fondness of Peter Pan’s Donuts. I promise we’ll swing by after our pumpernickel (her) and everything (me) bagels and cream cheese.

11:13 A.M. As she artistically tears apart her breakfast, Jordyn talks about how she’s doing more writing recently. “I don’t think [fusion_builder_container hundred_percent=”yes” overflow=”visible”][fusion_builder_row][fusion_builder_column type=”1_1″ background_position=”left top” background_color=”” border_size=”” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” spacing=”yes” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” padding=”” margin_top=”0px” margin_bottom=”0px” class=”” id=”” animation_type=”” animation_speed=”0.3″ animation_direction=”left” hide_on_mobile=”no” center_content=”no” min_height=”none”][Stove frontman Steve Hartlett] wants it to be just a solo thing, I think he wants it to be collaborative.” She’s been musician-ing for a decade, but the singing, the contributing, it’s fairly new and so refreshing to be more than a drummer.

Mouth full of bagel (so sexy), I stammer, “You wanna be…it’s almost…you’re behind the kit but want to be in front of it,” before realizing that’s logistically impossible and rephrasing. “You want to have your voice heard.”

She does, and her Stove and Jackal Onasis band mates have been nothing but supportive of this, something so important for bandmates, and especially male bandmates. But they’ve never made her feel like she’s “the girl in the band,” she says. They’re an inclusive bunch, and she’s excited for this sort of Broken Social Scene chapter of her life.

11:23 Jordyn’s trying to explain the new changes in the band beer-drinking/song-writing sessions, and as a professional music journalist I’m really interested in what kind of beer. “Usually whatever we can get, we usually drink a lot of Labatt Blue,” she explains, although she’ll also do Coors Light, Brooklyn Lager if we’re getting fancy. I figure we should take some pictures, and she starts fidgeting her hair, even though she looks like The Little Grunge Mermaid.

“Have you ever heard of Sea Punk?” She says, then explain it’s sort of a nostalgia thing. “About the days of sea-faring…?” I interrupt. No, no no, more of a Vaporwave-y nostalgia thing using electronic beats and aquatic iconography, Windows 95 meets Sea World. “Amazing,” I think, trying to untangle her hair with my hand so it falls properly.

After our mini-photoshoot, we get back to. “It’s weird because I feel like any artistic thing you pursue is selfish,” She says. “Like you have to think about yourself and what you’re feeling and what you want and figure out a way to present that in a way that’s like, satisfying to you emotionally but also sounds good to someone else.”

That and the whole being-able-to-make-money thing, but it’s a far lesser concern than creating meaningful work.

11:34 Out of nowhere Jordyn asks who my favorite journalists are, and I’m stunned that anyone would care, but okay, I’ll bite. I divulge my fascination with Cat Marnell and mention my career trajectory is essentially inspired by Pamela Des Barres’ I’m With The Band, has she ever read it?

She wants to, and I say I’d lend her my copy but last time it became a Whole Thing. Then I instantly change my mind and say she can borrow it if she doesn’t break-up with me later. She promises she won’t, which is sweet.

11:43 Jordyn talks about how she could only date musicians (she’s currently dating Stove/Jackal bandmate Alex Molini), I talk about I could only date musicians (I’ve been previously been involved…a lot of questionable decisions) and we’ve both given up on ever dating, or even meeting, any lawyers. “Not unless we were arrested,” I say.

“I haven’t been arrested, and I’m disappointed,” Jordyn says. “I feel like it’s not rock and roll that I haven’t been arrested.” She is a national treasure.

11:53 As I’m crumpling my bagel wrapper, our discussion turns back to songwriting, specifically the in musicians-on-musicians vein. “I’ll just tell you the secret,” Jordyn starts, and I am all ears because I love secrets.

“I feel like I’ll usually write a song about someone and their perspective or perception of me regarding the situation,” She confesses. “Maybe this is just self-deprecating, but I’ll write a song about someone else, but it’ll be about me, and how I handled that situation badly, about how I feel bad about something, or how they see me because I’m a dick.”

This raises my eyebrows and I’m quick to supply that a lot of writers do the opposite, that they try to construct a Swiftian diatribe about being a victim and scorn those who ripped out their heart (see: my entire career). Instead, she’s using empathy to tackle songwriting from a more objective perspective, which makes her a fairer musician, probably better journalist than me, and at the very least, not a dick.

…it’s approximately here when I decide we need donuts immediately, because things are getting real heavy before noon.

12:10 I finally found someone else who was ruined in a permanent in-your-mid-20s-cannot-sleep-without-a-light-on way by The Ring. “I was sleeping in my mom’s bed for a week, and she was like, ‘You need to stop, you’re 13, go away,'” Jordyn says, a classic Homer Simpson donut in her hand. Our conversation has segwayed from our obsessions with heart-shaped glasses, to the plot of Lolita, to things that horrify. The Ring is up there for us both. followed hard by The Grudge, and though she very rarely gets scared, she has a shortlist.

On it: creepy sounds, anything moving slowly, deformed faces, and Jaws which she only watched recently (“it is so good, so effectively scary.”) And then there are things realer than Japanese ghosts and animatronic sharks, like night terrors, car accidents, and being mugged. She was roughed up by a mugging during her Berklee days, an eye-opening experience that confirmed she wasn’t in the safe haven of the suburbs.

“And that was the first time I realized ‘oh, other people will hurt you.'”

12:39 Jordyn’s heading to Alex’s place for their next songwriting session, and in a perfect New York twist he lives right on my street. So she knows about 4 am McGolrick Park confrontations and that one Polish bakery that’s really, really mean. Before we actually cross said bakery she notices a whole cigarette in the street, and there’s a very real moment where we debate saving it before I deduce it’s probably fine if we’re “one less cigarette closer to death.”

We stop at my my apartment and after I give her the grand tour I hand over I’m With The Band, reiterating that it should give her a window on what it’s like for non-musicians in the scene. She’s excited because she’s always wondered about that, whether we get sick of hanging out with musicians.

I never get sick of it, although after she leaves, I still feel perplexed; from best friends to bedfellows, nobody in the scene has ever bothered to ask me who my favorite journalists are before today.

It’s then that I think I’ve figured out Jordyn, and what will undoubtedly make her a good songwriter. Her musicianship and aesthetics (again, v mermaid grunge) are a killer mix for a drummer babe, there’s no question. But once she gets up from the drum kit there is no bullshit rock star pretense, just absolute candidness peppered the occasional adorable observation (i.e. “Not to be a dick, but Wayne’s World 2 is not that cool,” which had me dying).

She instantly embraces you, connects with you, tries to understand you and include you. She’ll tell you her fears, admit to her self-consciousness, and share secrets with you as effortlessly as sharing a beer, a bagel, a cigarette.

And it’s very cool. It’s so cool.

You can follow Stove and Jackal Onasis on Facebook, and stream Big Deal Party on Bandcamp and Spotify.[/fusion_builder_column][/fusion_builder_row][/fusion_builder_container]

INTERVIEW: Moon Hooch Learns to Live in the Moment

Rambunctious, energy-fueled nu-jazz dance band Moon Hooch is in their element on a live stage. This Brooklyn-based trio found each other at The New School for Jazz and Contemporary Music in Manhattan. In their early days they performed their stimulating, rhythmic tunes on street corners and subway platforms. Incredibly, these busking scenes began to draw huge crowds of intrigued folks eager to boogie along and the band quickly became well-known.

In conjunction with the recent release of their free EP The Joshua Tree, they will showcase their considerable presence and talents at the Brooklyn Bowl this Saturday. The Joshua Tree was released as a free, downloadable album in December and shows the band is moving, if possible, in an even more kinetic direction. I was lucky enough to ask horn-player Wenzl McGowen a few questions about the band and what a live concert experience is like for them.

I went to the New School, so I’ve known about you since you first started out as a band. It’s really interesting to see how much you’ve grown. I wanted to ask about your development from around 2010-2011 to now. How do you feel about how much you’ve changed from busking in the subway to playing a Tiny Desk concert?

It’s really unbelievable, incredible. We played a show two days ago in Burlington, Vermont at the Higher Ground and it was sold out. There were 750 people there. We were kind of like, Holy crap. This is insane. We didn’t really expect at all to be supporting ourselves playing shows. We never had any intention to form a band. It all took us by surprise and is still taking us by surprise.

It really feels incredible to see the reaction of the audience after the show. People are often so touched that, you know, we just kind of look at each other, speechless. It really feels like there is a communication happening on a deeper level beyond intellect and beyond words. It’s beautiful that our music is allowing people to connect to each other on a deeper level and express themselves.

I was actually planning to ask you about that. Is there any intention to make that kind of connection? Your music is very social. I’m wondering if over time that intention has changed or the kind of connection you’re trying to make has changed.

I don’t put so much intention of what kind of connection I want to establish. I feel like if I totally remove myself and just become one with the music and be fully present – if I listen to what Mike [fusion_builder_container hundred_percent=”yes” overflow=”visible”][fusion_builder_row][fusion_builder_column type=”1_1″ background_position=”left top” background_color=”” border_size=”” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” spacing=”yes” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” padding=”” margin_top=”0px” margin_bottom=”0px” class=”” id=”” animation_type=”” animation_speed=”0.3″ animation_direction=”left” hide_on_mobile=”no” center_content=”no” min_height=”none”][Wilber, providing additional brass] and James [Muschler, on drums] are doing, just do my part – then, naturally, I get into a state of love. And that love sometimes expresses itself in different ways. Sometimes it’s more like a passionate kind of love and sometimes it’s more like a gentle feeling of gratitude. Even the parts of the music that are really intense and angry sounding, that to me is also part of that love. A more passionate, aggressive kind of love.

A cathartic feeling? Letting out your anger?

Yeah. I usually don’t channel that much anger. That’s not my kind of thing. Mike does that a lot, though. He really uses anger as fuel to put himself in a certain flow and express that part of himself. We have different angles, but we meet onstage in the present moment. Also, that we have such different personalities contributes to this really wide musical expression.

I think it’s a healing experience. Like the way that people go to ceremonies to heal. Sometimes I feel that is what our fans are feeling. We’ve had people write to us and say “I had an out-of-body experience at your show” or “after the show I couldn’t stop crying.” People are having deep experiences that could typically be associated with rituals or ceremonies. It’s insane.

We don’t have that much to with it, other than being totally present on stage and giving all of our awareness to each other. That’s how our music becomes powerful. If you really step out of the way and join forces with that presentness, then the music will become powerful.

I also wanted to ask about the way that you create atmosphere. Your music seems to very organically create an emotional connection, particular excitement. Especially when you used to play outside. It was like you were playing and then everything around you became bigger and bigger until it became this wild dance party. How do your shows evolve like that?

How do we create this atmosphere in the streets?

I meant more your thoughts about how it would evolve into this whole scene.

Well, like I said it always kind of happens. All we are really doing is trying to do our best musically and on a personal level. I think the times we’ve played the best on the streets, when we had the biggest crowds, when people were most engaged was, again, when we were present with each other and fully committed to the music. Like, if you stop worrying about what other people will think or if they’ll like it – if you stop caring about other people altogether – then your awareness is freed up from all these psychological concerns. At that point you have more energy to put into the present moment. So, looking back at it there were times we played where it wasn’t good and people didn’t like it – or liked it, just not so much. And then, times where people got off the trains and danced and it would create this insane energy. Those times happened when we just accepted was going on.

In the beginning it was hard for me to let go because we were dependent on the money. On the streets we had to make money. But I gradually got used to it and was able to surrender and not worry about what anyone thought. We started playing for each other, for the sake of playing. That’s what’s happening now on stage. I just try to be as present – I feel like I’m just saying the same thing about everything, but it’s true! I think the key to life is to just stay present.

Then, do you feel that the way it’s liberating for your audience, it’s just as liberating for you? A shared experience?

Oh yeah! I mean, I don’t drink that much. But after shows… I feel drunk after shows. Just like woahh, I can barely speak right now. The energy is so intense it feels like the music is a drug.

Do you guys still like busking at all? Or are you more comfortable with venues?

At this point our music has evolved so far beyond our busking set up. We haven’t done it in years.

That’s what I thought. Do you now have a favorite place to play? Does the atmosphere change at different venues?

I love Burlington. Higher Ground is a good venue. There are some great venues across the country and some venues that really sound like shit. I like the Blue Bird Theater, although it’s a little gloomy. It can be hard to make it sound right.

I like outdoor venues and festivals because you don’t have to deal with the acoustics in the room. It makes for a fun stage. We definitely get to know all of these venues pretty intimately, but at an outdoor festival you just plug in and it sounds good. You don’t have to queue out any resonance patterns.

One last thing – I wanted to know your thoughts on the rise of similar bands. You know, bands that have taken your style or your ideas. They seem to be becoming more prominent these days.

You mean Too Many Zoos and Lucky Chops?

(Laughs) Yeah.

Um, you know we don’t want to take ownership of anything. Like, you don’t own anything. Your life is a gift and everything you’ve learned is a gift from past generations, from every organism and being that has ever lived. What you create is also a gift. So, we just contributed to this wave of saxophone dance music and inspired other people to do the same thing. Some of them became more successful than us, which is, you know, fine and awesome. We’re actually good friends with them!

Moon Hooch close out their current tour with a hometown show at Brooklyn Bowl this weekend! Get tickets here.

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MORNING AFTER: Crepes With Darkwing

Darkwing holds a special place in my heart, which is why I don’t throw a bag of donuts through the second story window of Louis Cozza’s apartment. The band is not picking up their phone, and it’s evident why. If I could hear Darkwing’s warbling and smashing from the street, they’re not hearing a cellphone vibrating. But finally Rich Gold says he’s going to buzz me up, flooding my iMessage with “sorries.”

I was force-fed Darkwing via their Lameonia cassette during CMJ 2015. My first snobby, I’m-hot-shit-cause-I’ve-lived-in-Brooklyn-for-five-minutes assessment was, “Ok, they’re basically Soundgarden.” Three tape-flips later and I was eating my words.

Sure, Darkwing borrows (but never steals) essential grunge 101 elements: the seamless shifting between soft and hard, hazy slacker-cool lyrics, riffs that make you slam-sway back and forth, it’s there. But there’s something inexplicable that sets them apart, somewhere between the ironic coos of, “ooh, ooh, ooh” and the casual nihilism. It’s like, when you feel that tremendously heavy drop in “Endo”—yes, feel, not politely bob your head to—it’s life-altering. I wanted to grab breakfast with Darkwing first since they were my first great musical surprise, and because Rich’s recent move to Brooklyn signifies a bold new era. Lyzi Wakefield is touring with Fruit and Flowers and Zach Booth is AWOL, but two out of four ain’t bad.

So yeah, I brought Valentine’s donuts, because Rich is feeling pretty poor right now. But more on that later.

The Scene: The raw wooden stairway has a good “rustic-and-murdery” vibe, but I survive the climb. The apartment itself is clean, with teensy comic store touches all around. Invader Zim action figures here, a stray Pokemon card there, a DBZ sticker on the fridge, et al.

In a shocking twist, there’s actual food on the table: crepes, raspberries, blueberries, peanut butter, honey, syrup, blackberries, it’s like I’m in a goddamn French bakery. This is for Louis’s roommates and Louis’s roommate’s girlfriend (…?), so I politely drink coffee with co-opted almond milk instead of diving into carbs. Not wanting to interrupt the band practice flow, I let the boys resume the jam session as we chat about tomorrow’s video shoot for “Vicious” (quick-cut musicians in dark clothing, Rich’s head hovering Wizard of Oz style). “Why do you wear so much dark clothes?” I ask.

It’s an irreverent answer: “My sister would say I’m metal A.F. But I’m not.” This ultimately inspires Rich to put on our breakfast music, Norwegian black metal band Darkthrone.

1:50 P.M. There’s enough leftover batter and I volunteer to make fresh crepes. It’s okay, I don’t mind the patriarchal undertones of cooking for men; the power dynamic is in my favor because they could easily die eating my terrible cooking. Like, it isn’t my intent, but worst case scenario breakfast manslaughter makes a good chapter in my memoirs. The title I’m partial to is “#Brunchwing.”

Rich interrupts my chain of thought by asking the group what we think of Darkthrone as breakfast music. “It’s real soothing,” I answer. He then switches over to Ugly God’s “Bitch!”

2:18 P.M. The crepes are well-received and Louis has this great money-making scheme. So, it involves purchasing a copy of the exceedingly important game Hello Kitty Kruisers. Apparently, it was a small printing with makes it a rare find, so if we all go in on it, we’d have this very expensive game to profit off of in the future. Nobody takes him up on this, which I think is insane.

2:26 P.M. Rich is lying on the floor, saying, “I’m so broke recently that I’m not eating. And I think my stomach is shrinking. And so now I’ve had two crepes and I’m like…” Holy shit, what if I do accidentally kill him?, I think. But no, he’s just stuffed.

Louis has been New York since at least 2011, and Rich, although he’s been musician-ing for years, just made the formal Leonia-to-Brooklyn move within the past few months. He deems living here “chill,” which I read as “incredibly financially straining, especially as I’m trying to find a new job to facilitate this high cost of living and allow me to pursue my passion.” But I could be wrong. No, Rich is fervently looking for steady income, racking up all the potential bartender/barista/barrister (not really) gigs he would like to get/cannot get.

“I’m not good at jobs, I’m good at rock and roll,” is his summation.

2:35 P.M. “Do you guys celebrate Valentines Day?” Darkwing isn’t my go-to band for love songs, but I have to ask. “I would,” Rich says, and Louis has plans to go away the next day, so he’ll just be packing. Having successfully depressed everyone, I decide we’ll celebrate Valentines right now, passing out conversation hearts and Nerds candy that I have hidden in my purse.

Rich gets a blue “<3 UR Self” heart at one point, because that’s incredibly sage advice for a piece of candy.

2:50 P.M. I peel back the plaid blanket forcefield guarding Louis’s album to look through his records and ask what’s his most special purchase, so he breaks out a plastic-wrapped copy of the scrolling-shooter game Aleste II. Very cool, “But I mean in terms of music,” I clarify.

Within minutes my arms are filling up with possibilities, including Japanese heavy metal band Devil Soldier’s Loudness and Beck’s Modern Guilt. He finally settles on two 7 inches from that dog., their self-titled EP and “Grunge Couple” single, and I cradle them all like they are his flat, round, grooved infants.

3:05 P.M. “Have you ever had Special K?” Rich asks, and because I am a delicate baby fawn and this is a breakfast article I counter-ask, “Like the cereal…?” No, not like the cereal. Ahem.

Well anyway, he grabs a donut and starts talking about this song he composed about a salvia trip. It’s called “Ursa Burster” and obviously I’m dying to listen to it.

3:13 P.M. BUT Rich gets a phone call from his dad regarding his car (apparently it’s leaking oil; “very expensive, bad for the environment,” would be distressing if we lived in a seal-rich neighborhood). He closes it off with, “I can’t really talk right now, I’m in a meeting.”

3:36 P.M. So this salvia song sounds starts off all whale noises and heartbeats. “This is great,” I lie, terrified. Rich is explaining how he was imagining his head floating around, approximately at the point where is voice warbles, “I don’t have a body.” “This is fun,” I lie harder, about to have some sort of secondhand anxiety attack, imagining Rich’s green face hovering all over the apartment. And then like a fever, the song breaks with, “DID YOU HEAR ABOUT THE BEAR PUNCHER?”

Oh my God.

3:42 P.M. Louis relocated to the drum set and is over-lapping the track with perfectly-timed beats. Rich is loudly droning over the recording with, “So what? Animals fight, scratch and bite, alright” I’m kneeling on the ottoman in docs and my Grimace-looking sweater, thoroughly rocking out (from the waist up). No, it is great, earnestly great. It’s classic Darkwing.

He backtracks on the trip, recounting, “When you’re going through life, it’s like you’re reading a book, and you’re reading one word at a time. Sometimes you get caught up, you just keep reading that word one over and over.” In this case, Rich read an article about a man who punched a bear in the face and wrote about being fixated on the coolness of that, then out of his high, realizing that, oh yeah, there are way bigger things happening in this sick twisted world. Psychedelia and psychoactivity and the down-sweep of reality.

The bear-punching is still pretty great though.

3:50 P.M. They’re filing through Darkwing demos. The first about a faux-acid trip in Asbury Park. The second has Lyzi at the forefront of a dreamy vocal blend (her and Rich are like, boyfriend-girlfriend, and I can hear it when he appraises the song with “that beautiful voice.”) And we close on a demo that’s bound to be, “a really good pop song,” which they reprise once again on their instruments. I ask Rich if he can repeat the lyrics real quick, and he spells out gooey feelings muddled by jealousy:

“You know I don’t do too well at keeping cool, when some slick idiot comes stepping to my boo, I’m sorry that I yelled, I just want you to know, that when I close my eyes we’re never far apart, a big red he-art-art-art”

Ok, Darkwing isn’t my go-to band for love songs, but they do have a big red heart of their own, crudely cut out out of construction paper. Another great surprise, and how seasonal!

4:03 P.M. The guys walk me back to the G train, Louis to start a shift at National Sawdust, Rich to get his car from Jersey. They’re excited about the video, an album in April, tours in spring and summer. And then Rich stops halfway to debate if he can afford the subway, reminding us once again of the unbearable broke-ness of being a musician. Truth is, it isn’t just him, it’s the problem-of-choice around here.

But that thing that sets Darkwing apart? They’re good at rock and roll. And you can’t underestimate the value in that.

You can follow Darkwing on Facebook or buy their music on Bandcamp.

ALBUM REVIEW: Shawna Virago “Heaven Sent Delinquent”

Released late last year, Heaven Sent Delinquent is the must-hear folk punk record from “transgender trickster” Shawna Virago. The album is composed of 10 solo acoustic tales, that true or spun from Virago’s brilliance, give us plot lines to how she got to her current hometown. “These are the stories of my generation – a generation of transgender people who came out long before the internet, before transgender celebrities and reality TV stars … before anybody gave a shit about us,” she writes in a press release.

Based in San Fransisco, Virago has performed as an out transwoman since the early 90’s. The artistic director of San Fransisco’s Transgender Film Festival, she’s an artist of many skill sets, and if you are unfamiliar with her work, Heaven Sent Delinquent is a perfect place to start.

When we hear terms such as “Americana” or “folk music,” we’re often flooded with images of cowboys or Bob Dylan – cisgender men. The year is 2017, and it’s time to hear new stories that are more interesting than that you’re used to in the realm of telling tales with a voice and guitar. With queer rebel heroes, with “flame-colored hair, and rhinestoned suits,” Heaven Sent Delinquent paints the landscape of your mind with a cast of outsiders on road trips and love stories, enjoying escape with whiskey out of paper cups. “Too many of us were runaways, survivors. But we never gave up. These songs are the stories of myself and my friends. How we managed to find each other in an unfriendly world, fought together, loved each other,” writes Virago’ in a press release.

From crashing cars through the gates of heaven in a gender rebellion to calling out a lover’s fear and vanity, Virago’s vivid story-telling abilities and haunting voice are perhaps best introduced on the album’s first single, “Gender Armageddon,” a song penned as a “tribute to the desperate camaraderie of queer outsiders not afraid to punch back against a hostile world.”

Yet don’t stop there. The album slows down to make way for melancholy on “Last Night’s Sugar,” and she’ll strum your range of emotions on the title track “Heaven Sent Delinquent,” an anthem for “outsiders too timid or shackled by family and economics to make it out of the oppressive towns where they were born” Perhaps one of Virago’s most apt gifts on the album is an ability to blend emotions into song as complicated as they sit within our hearts – and not only make sense out of them – but art. Such skills are evoked on “Anniversary Song,” that celebrates love as much as her own independence.

In our current political climate, there’s been a lot of discussion on how to be an ally and the validity and importance of turning pain into art. If you’re looking for a place to start, support trans artists like Shawna Virago, but not simply for her gender, but because her music is dope.

Stream Heaven Sent Delinquent below.

<a href="http://shawnavirago.bandcamp.com/album/heaven-sent-delinquent">Heaven Sent Delinquent by Shawna Virago</a>

Staff Picks – Gabby Salinardo: Top 10 Social Commentary Songs of 2016

Top 10 Social Commentary Songs of 2016

10. “Zombies” – Childish Gambino

Gambino’s newest album held plenty of surprises from the rapper sound-wise, and this was one of the tracks that stuck out to me the most. It describes those around him as zombies – soul-sucking entities that only seem to care about one thing: money. No doubt this song was a result of the people that attempted to surround him on his rise to fame.

9. “Radio” – Sylvan Esso

“Radio” is a catchy tune that was picked as the first single off the band’s much anticipated sophomore album, describing the process some girls go through in order to make their way in the industry (“now don’t you look good sucking American dick”). The lyrics also go on to say that even when you do make it, all that comes out of it are “highway blues and gasoline fumes” – a fantasized life that’s not all it’s cracked up to be.

8. “I See Change” – Ny Oh

When I saw the Aussie native perform for the first time, she prefaced this song with the story of the first time she played it live – it was at the Grand Canyon for a crowd of strangers, and during her short performance she said some left and others gave her some choice comments. I found this a bit shocking as the lyrics reflect Ny Oh’s pain as she sees the beautiful world we call home become overrun with concrete, so to have people at a national park simply ignoring her message only seems a bit ironic, if not a perfect proof to her point.

7. “Fuck Donald Trump” – YG ft. G-Easy and Macklemore

I think the title speaks for itself.

6. “Drone Bomb Me” – ANOHNI

Anohni is better known by some as the lead singer of Antony and the Johnsons, but she did not hold back on her first solo album. The title of this song is pretty self-explanatory, a direct response to the incessant drone warfare and terrorism the world has been subject to these past few years. She commented that “it’s a love song from the perspective of a girl in Afghanistan, say a 9-year-old girl whose family’s been killed by a drone bomb. She is kind of looking up at the sky and she’s gotten herself to a place where she just wants to be killed by a drone bomb too.”

5. “Power Play” – HOLYCHILD

HOLYCHILD has been known for their brat pop infused with social commentary ever since they dropped their debut EP MINDSPEAK (an appropriate title to say the least). Before lead singer Liz Nistico had vocal surgery earlier this year, the duo released their latest EP America Oil Lamb, the name itself being a jab at what America has become. “Power Play” featuring RAC is a gritty synth filled track that delves into the world of wealth, mental health, self-worth, and the resulting fear of aging. Similar to an older track, “Nasty Girls”, Liz lists all the things she feels many people (including herself) get suckered into thinking are a necessary part of everyday life.

4. “iT” – Christine and the Queens

While it seems pretty clean cut that this song is about transsexualism, Héloïse (Christine) takes things a little deeper by saying, “I had symbolic desire with this song to take the place of a guy. Perhaps because I was not given what I wanted as a girl. But also by play. There is something of the infant omnipotence in this statement [fusion_builder_container hundred_percent=”yes” overflow=”visible”][fusion_builder_row][fusion_builder_column type=”1_1″ background_position=”left top” background_color=”” border_size=”” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” spacing=”yes” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” padding=”” margin_top=”0px” margin_bottom=”0px” class=”” id=”” animation_type=”” animation_speed=”0.3″ animation_direction=”left” hide_on_mobile=”no” center_content=”no” min_height=”none”][…]. The final sex change does not interest me.” Ultimately, this song discusses what it means to be a man and have power in society.

3. “#WHERESTHELOVE” – The Black Eyed Peas

The Black Eyed Peas came back this year with a spinoff of their 2003 hit “Where is the Love?” and a powerful music video to go with it. The song features collaborations with other pop superstars ranging from the likes of Justin Timberlake to Snoop Dogg and Mary J. Blige, or as the song credits, “the world”. The band also took this single to a new level, with a website to go along with it (www.wheresthelove.com) including a #DONTFORGET portion with links to pages to donate to different causes.

2. “16 Shots” – Vic Mensa

This pro-black anthem details the death of Laquan McDonald, the title being a reference to how many times officers shot him. Vic Mensa has been an avid supporter of the Black Lives Matter movement, and many of his songs off his new album touch on the subject in one way or another – he actually protested in Chicago alongside other advocates the day after McDonald’s shooting, and used a performance on REVOLT TV as a fundraiser for the Flint water crisis. As far as rappers go, I’ve found him to be one of the best at making a lasting impression, using news report commentary on many of his tracks to further instill the sense of injustice (see also “Go Tell ’Em”).

“Don’t Touch My Hair” – Solange

I would honestly consider A Seat at the Table one of the best albums of the year. Solange put so much into this record and managed to create a beautiful visual story of black empowerment. “Don’t Touch My Hair” speaks out against the constant problem black women face – the “compliment” question of asking to touch a black woman’s hair is, in fact, a racial microagression. In a white-dominated, patriarchal society, the question itself denies black women consent and respect of their own bodies in such a way that puts them on display as abnormal. Solange uses this track perfectly to define the limits she will allow her identity and beliefs to be compromised in order to satisfy those around her.

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PLAYING DETROIT: Zoos of Berlin “Instant Evening”

It’s been three years since Detroit’s sonically poignant pioneers of quietly turbulent indie rock, Zoos of Berlin, last full-length release. Earlier this month, Collin Dupuis, Will Yates, Matthew Howard, Daniel I. Clark and Trevor Naud returned with an open door and a detour. An oceanic space dive, bridging the waters and atmospheric distances between way up and deep down, Instant Evening is a mystifying abstraction and a perilously purifying journey that renounces gravity in the same breath from which it praises it. The band is asking us to pretend that this is their first record which would displace 2013’s pleasantly unstable Lucifer in the Rain and their airily sedated debut record Taxis from 2009. But maybe they’re right to ask this of us. After all, what Zoos of Berlin has masterfully achieved with Instant Evening is the aural embodiment of time lapsed and time stopped and in several cases time reversed. A transcendental escapist mirror of the self and the whole, Zoos latest, first record is a new language in a native voice.

Their emblematic cadence is more well-rounded here, more complete as assisted by their collective patient tonality and fluid melodic velocity. There are comparable moments to the likes of Belle and Sebastian, LCD Soundsystem and most notably the late David Bowie’s final opus Black Star, but the comparisons aren’t a distraction as they usually tend to be. In fact, what makes Instant Evening an instant “yes” is its commitment to not only sound but to its deeply personal and uniquely porous temperament and languish whimsy. The opening track “Rush at the Bend” is an upbeat whirling dervish that uncorks the intent of the record, a gentle tug and ripping of the seams. The delicate balancing of layers within layers never feels thick or overthought. Case and point, “Spring from the Cell” an echoey and deliberate lamination of vocal harmonies, twinkling prom-night synths and dreamy acoustics. As the album progresses, the sensationalized belief that night is approaching grows apparent. “A Clock Would Never Tell” is a parade processional love song that begs to come in from the dark and the cold and leads shortly into “Always Fine with Orphan” a glittering and robust longing-for-summer anthem that manages to braid melancholy with pleasant memories of making love under the sun. We are left with the orbit-less “North Star on the Hill” which poetically stands alone on the record. Like hands missing each other in the night, gracing only fingertips before the invisible tethers pull and draw them apart, the albums closer is unassuming in its heartbreak. A swallowing of stars and a ghost caress, Instant Evening ends with an ellipsis.

Listen to the full stream below:

<a href="http://zoosofberlin.bandcamp.com/album/instant-evening">Instant Evening by Zoos of Berlin</a>[/fusion_builder_column][/fusion_builder_row][/fusion_builder_container]

EP REVIEW + VIDEO PREMIERE: Catch Prichard’s “Eskota”

When I first met Sawyer Gebauer – the weighty, valley-low voice behind Catch Prichard – he was called another name. He was in another country, manning a different musical project (the melancholy Europe-based Brittsommar), and far removed from his American roots. He was physically away from home, but also emotionally and culturally. Gebauer has often discussed “home” as a symbol in interviews, namely that you can never return to it in a pure sense. It is a theme so prevalent in his work that it informed a song title on his latest EP Eskota. But in spite of his itinerant past, it seems that he’s getting mighty close to a hearth of his own making.

In the past twelve months, the songwriter has re-tethered himself to American soil after five years gone. Gebauer settled in the Bay Area last fall after a cross-country road trip that centered on the recording of this very album, in a Texas ghost town no less.

That town, was called Eskota.

The story of Eskota’s making is just as mesmerizing as the record itself, to the extent that it’s difficult to examine them separately…much like it’s a chore at times to distinguish Sawyer Gebauer from Catch Prichard, the artist from the person. There is a vague picture, but one cloaked in so much romanticism that it is blurred.

What is clear is the intent. What Gebauer set out to achieve as he drove from Wisconsin to Texas was a simpler sound, one detached from the dense arrangements of his former band. It had to be stripped down and restrained – so in order to facilitate such a mood, he and engineer Brad K. Dollar set up shop for a week in an abandoned mercantile. In the heat they lazed by day and recorded by night, drinking beer to pass the time between.

The record itself bears an authenticity that perhaps wouldn’t have surfaced had the tracks been laid in a fancy studio. Despite its simplicity (the pared down instrumentation features only guitar, pedal steel, drums and the occasional bass and Moog lines), there is a lot to chew on – a soup of intricate production details born of the location. Take for instance “Howl,” ushered in by a creaking chair and built upon the chirping Texas night. “You Can Never Go Home Again” signs off with lilting pedal steel and a faraway cough, presumably that of someone in the makeshift studio. These elements tastefully season the album like a well-prepared meal.

There is a warmth in Eskota I’ve yet to encounter in Gebauer’s music, an openness and vulnerability that doesn’t always show in his previous work. These songs seem both universally narrative and deeply personal, covering heartbreak (“So Close To It), friends remembered (“Eskota”), and becoming a native stranger (“Hometown”). Sonically it sits in a saddle between country, folk and Americana of the early ‘90s. Gebauer’s ten-gallon voice resonates over the brightness of electric guitar and pedal steel, anchoring any sweet feelings we might have with a dose of blues.

Though it’s taken a lot of mileage for him to get here, it seems Catch Prichard has arrived. Maybe you can go home after all.

Catch Prichard will play Rockwood Music Hall on October 26th. Tickets here.

Eskota is out October 21st via Devise Records. Stream the video by Leif Huron below:

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EP REVIEW: Happyness “Tunnel Vision On Your Part”

When you were a kid, did you ever play with cornstarch and water? Some of you will think that is the most backwoods bumfuck thing you’ve ever heard, and others will know what the hell I am talking about. The thing about cornstarch and water is, it denies an absolute form. When you grasp it between your hands in a bowl it is chalky and solid, but when you lift it up, rivers of viscous white fluid run between your fingers.

It is this very conundrum of physics that comes to mind when I listen to Happyness, the London trio who recently released five-song EP Tunnel Vision On Your Part via Moshi Moshi Records. This record, much like their debut LP Weird Little Birthday bludgeons me with immediate satisfaction. I can say instantaneously, without a scrap of doubt: “I like this. This is good. This is different.” It is solid opinion, fully formed between my hands and in the bowl. And yet the moment I pick it up for closer examination, everything dissolves in my palms. Why is it good?

A sound you can’t quite put your finger on is the best and the worst thing that can happen to a music journalist. Though Happyness have been basted with descriptions like “laid back,” “slacker,” and most abhorrently, “chill,” I really can’t agree. There is more complexity at work here…more thought. When I listen to Tunnel Vision I don’t hear three happy slackers, but rather a team of gifted songwriters who know their way around hooks, texture, and a killer synth line. I doubt that they cut their teeth by slacking off and copying Pavement.

There are a few lovely things I can point to on this record, one being its steady warmth. There is a consistent shade of rose tinting these tracks, and a fuzz quality that’s equally cozy – as if the boys wrapped their amps in angora sweaters. The opener, “Anna, Lisa Calls” is a melancholy pop cut that has me wondering if the Beach Boys, Blonde On Blonde, or Elvis Costello were on rotation while recording, especially with those swerving, heartsick synths that remind me of Steve Nieve or Al Kooper organ parts.

The record seems to hang its head lower than Weird Little Birthday, its tone far more heartbroken than the snotty and wry debut. “Surfer Girl,” is a sleepy-eyed sad song that turns my Beach Boys suspicion into a theory. It is a washed-out, doo-wop waltz, complete with shore-encroaching waves and forlorn vocals.

At Tunnel Vision’s center is the infectious “SB’s Truck” which was the EP’s leading single. It is a lush ear-worm, spinning out a continual closing phrase that is bound to remain lodged in your head: “I come ‘round here/no real damage/movin’ in around my home.” Or at least, that’s what they seem to be saying in their trademark mumble.

Signing off is the title track: a straightforward dazzler that gets me hung up on the keys again. Whoever is writing these keyboard lines should probably keep their distance from me, as they seem to understand the fine wiring of my heart and could potentially cause an electrical fire.

I don’t feel any closer to coming up with a bar graph of reasons why I dig this band. But maybe digging something and not knowing why is the ultimate kind of adoration. Blind faith so to speak. After all, art isn’t about logic – it’s about instinct.

ONLY NOISE: Dropping The Neutron Bomb

Did my dad know that he might ruin me with a book? Of course not. What could a book possibly do? It wasn’t Story of the Eye, or Tropic of Cancer or even The Outsiders. It was non-fiction. Educational. All he knew was that his 12-year-old daughter was beginning to dress funny and gravitate towards a kind of music he couldn’t relate to. So, he did what any supportive parent would do: he bought me a book on the subject. But this was no mere book.

We Got the Neutron Bomb: The Untold Story of L.A. Punk was an oral history of punk’s first wave in Southern California. Much like its New York predecessor Please Kill Me, Neutron Bomb compiles hundreds of interviews with musicians, tastemakers, groupies and promoters into a sensational narrative. Edited by acclaimed music journalist Marc Spitz and former Masque owner Brendan Mullen, this was the book that changed everything for me – my answer to The Catcher in the Rye. It was a bomb indeed; reconfiguring everything I had ever known about music, writing, and debauchery – which as it turns out, all go hand in hand.

Informative the book was; innocent it was not. What my dad had unknowingly placed in my crimeless little hands was an instruction manual on bad behavior. He might as well have handed me the keys to his liquor cabinet. The pages were ripe with forbidden fruit, including, but not limited to the offensive quotes of The Runaways’ manager Kim Fowley (the “C” word abounds), anecdotes about shooting up with gutter water, and spreads of full frontal nudity. Full frontal MALE nudity!

It was a great time to be in the sixth grade. While everyone was speeding through the second Harry Potter tome, I was reading about people on speed, cutting themselves with broken bottles, smearing their malnourished bodies with peanut butter, and having all the unprotected sex. And of course, there was the music, the wild disruptor that was the birth of L.A. punk.

I am reminded of these growing pains with the recent publishing of Slash: A Punk Magazine From Los Angeles: 1977-80. Slash, which first came to my attention while reading We Got the Neutron Bomb, seemed to be the West Coast comrade of Punk Magazine and Search and Destroy. It was a newsprint rag of epic proportions when it came to chronicling the dizzying L.A. garage scene from its inception to its demise. The editorial backbone of the zine was as colorful as the bands they immortalized. At the core of Slash were founders Steve Samiof and Melanie Nissen, who recognized the importance of documenting the careers of the commercially challenged. Where A&R reps may have heard mayhem, the crew at Slash magazine heard the last cries of revolution. Or perhaps screams.

Slash championed the “dangerous” sound; bands like The Screamers, The Germs, Catholic Discipline, The Bags, X, all of whom cropped up in Neutron Bomb alongside countless others. But the magazine wasn’t only throwing roses. If Samiof and Nissen were the core of the paper, then writer/editor Claude Bessy, a.k.a. “Kickboy Face” was its blackened little heart. I remember Kickboy’s quotes in Neutron Bomb being true gems, and his belligerent snarl wasn’t any softer in the pages of Slash. In an early editorial from ’77, Kickboy lays into the giants of status quo rock:

“May the punks set this rat-infested industry on fire. It sure could use a little brightness! So there will be no objective reviewing in these pages, and definitely no unnecessary dwelling upon the bastards who’ve been boring the living shit out of us for years with their concept albums, their cosmic discoveries and their pseudo-philosophical inanities.” “

…let them remember the old days when they’d rather die than be seen with socialite creeps and being heard talking trash and then let them shit in their pants with envy. As The Clash say, NO ELVIS, BEATLES OR ROLLING STONES IN 1977!”

Kickboy Face was to Slash what Lester Bangs was to Creem, but probably more hated. He liked it that way. On the anthology’s cover is a small beckon for letters to the editor: “Write Kickboy! He wants you to respond. (He thrives on abuse).”

Abuse was something so pervasive in the scene, particularly with one of its most disturbingly fascinating bands: The Germs. The Germs, along with their ill-fated lead “singer” Darby Crash, were the nucleus of both Neutron Bomb and a second oral history by Mullen entitled Lexicon Devil: The Fast Times and Short Life of Darby Crash and the Germs.

After plowing through the first volume, Lexicon Devil was wrapped and waiting under the Christmas tree, a setting so innocuous it made the book’s hedonistic contents all the more comical. This collection focused on the self-destructive tendencies of Darby Crash, nee Jan Paul Beahm, who died of an intentional overdose at twenty-two. While this fate was not rare in the punk scene East or West, The Germs left behind a concise body of work that was far from generic. They sounded only like themselves, and as with most explosive art, weren’t fully recognized until long after their disbandment.

The twisted history of The Germs became such a fixation that years later I would agree to getting a Germs Burn: an idiotic and unhygienic branding created when a burn-bearing pal sears an entire cigarette into your left wrist. Start to finish. It was one of the many grotesque rituals championed by Circle One, The Germs’ own little groupie cult. At the time it seemed like some honor had been bestowed upon me, but more than anything it hurt like hell. I hid it from my parents for years, and I’m lucky it didn’t become gangrenous. No one even notices it anyway. Zero punk points awarded.

Throughout Neutron Bomb, Lexicon Devil and Slash, there was continual mention of a film in which all of these characters came to life: The Decline of Western Civilization by Penelope Spheeris. At the time this film was referred to as a holy grail: out of print, impossible to find, etc. Whether or not that was true is now nebulous to me, but at the time I, of course, believed it. So imagine my thrill up on seeing a bootleg copy on the shelves at Singles Going Steady, a punk record store in Seattle. The DVD was certainly bootlegged and overpriced, but it was mine. I was about to watch the most seminal documentary in punk rock history…with my parents.

It quickly became apparent that I hadn’t been reading cute rock n’ roll stories for the past few years. If the music alone didn’t alienate my folks enough, Decline would make a point of doing so. This was 100 minutes of my idols crumbling before me. Darby Crash: too loaded to sing into the mic. Lee Ving: misogynistic and homophobic. Ron Reyes: terrible lyricist. At its best the film spends time with X, whose John Doe, Billy Zoom and Exene Cervenka are actually intelligent, coherent human beings. At its worst are suburban kids trying to justify their swastika armbands.

Not everyone was pleased with Penelope Spheeris for this representation. Others didn’t give a fuck. But as I sat in between my parents, recoiling at a scene in which Darby Crash and a woman named Michelle laugh about finding a dead man in her backyard (LOL!), I realized that maybe liking the music was enough. I didn’t need idols or ideals to know a good record. As Kickboy Face once wrote:

“But seriously now, stop fuckin’ worrying silly about lost ideals and forgotten causes. You’re still here, aren’t you?”

Search Results for: holy other

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AF 2017 IN REVIEW: Our Favorite Albums and Singles of the Year

EDITOR LISTS

STAFF LISTS

TRACK PREMIERE: Cassandra Violet “Invisible Man”

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MORNING AFTER: Veggie Pancakes and Ale with Lost Boy ?

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ALBUM REVIEW: Alvvays, Antisocialites

TRACK PREMIERE: Anna Morsett of The Still Tide Walks the “High Wire”

MORNING AFTER: Ricotta French Toast with Def.GRLS

ONLY NOISE: A Femme’s Guide To Northside

WOMAN OF INTEREST: Ziemba

ARTIST INTERVIEW: Kimi Recor of DRÆMINGS

NEWS ROUNDUP: Prince EP, Shea Stadium Updates & More

ONLY NOISE: 50 Shades of Sade

MORNING AFTER: Donuts and Bagels With Jackal Onasis

INTERVIEW: Moon Hooch Learns to Live in the Moment

MORNING AFTER: Crepes With Darkwing

ALBUM REVIEW: Shawna Virago “Heaven Sent Delinquent”

Staff Picks – Gabby Salinardo: Top 10 Social Commentary Songs of 2016

PLAYING DETROIT: Zoos of Berlin “Instant Evening”

EP REVIEW + VIDEO PREMIERE: Catch Prichard’s “Eskota”

EP REVIEW: Happyness “Tunnel Vision On Your Part”

ONLY NOISE: Dropping The Neutron Bomb

Ticket Giveaways

Each week Audiofemme gives away a set of tickets to our featured shows in NYC! Scroll down to enter for the following shindigs.

See you there! xoxo