ALBUM REVIEW: Camille Bloom “Pieces of Me”

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photo by Gaelen Billingsley
photo by Gaelen Billingsley

It was the philosopher Aristotle who said, “The whole is greater than the sum of its parts.” While I’m not certain that Aristotelian philosophy was at the forefront of Camille Bloom’s mind while songwriting, I can’t help but consider it a subconscious theme to her fifth studio LP Pieces Of Me, which she self-released earlier this month.

Despite having started her career in Seattle nearly fifteen years ago while transitioning out of another – teaching high school English à la Sting – it seems that Pieces Of Me has become the “a-ha!” moment for Bloom. The record has received widespread applause from the likes of Impose Magazine, No Depression, The Seattle Times, PopDose to name but a few. Now it has us on our feet clapping as well.

Pieces Of Me provides a remedy for a paradoxical problem: wanting to listen to a record that is diverse yet cohesive all at once. You’d be hard-pressed to find another album so adventurous in its genre-hopping. Some truly unique compositions crop up on both the bluegrass-infused title track as well as “Zombie,” a searing social commentary set to sinister, plunking jazz rhythms.

No shocker here, but some of my favorite moments occur on the album’s more forlorn cuts; take the somnolent piano ballad “Everywhere But Here” for instance, which sounds sweetly ominous with its cinematic strings and crescendo vocals. The pared-down “Turn Back to You” nourishes all of the hopeless romantic, sap-atoms I possess, and who could deny those harmonies? *Swoon*

Pieces stands tall like a well-constructed sandwich; varying ingredients piled between two hearty slabs of bread-though these slices would have to be gluten free, as Bloom informed the University of Washington’s Medicine Pulse podcast earlier this year: she suffers from celiac disease. The parallel pieces holding everything together are the album’s two versions of “Lift Me Up.”

Both commencing and closing the record, the opening iteration is a rapturous, stringed affair simultaneously hopeful and melancholy. However, the dance-remix closer paints the song in washes of synths and should absolutely be saved for the last dance. It’s the kind of late-night, low-lit pop-drama fit for Robyn herself.

Throughout Pieces you will find tasteful arrangements seasoned with swells of cello, warm trumpet tones, expertly plucked mandolin, and electric guitar so sexily understated it is baffling. While all of that might sound heady on paper, the instrumentation is grounded and never overpowers Bloom’s distinctly crystalline vocals. I suspect a large portion of the record’s success can be attributed to Camille Bloom’s new producer: Camille Bloom.

After years of recording with producers such as the acclaimed Martin Feveyear (who takes a mixing and mastering credit on Pieces) Bloom wanted to take a crack at doing it herself this time. After crowdfunding the record’s required budget and building a home studio on her farm property in Washington State, Bloom spent hours in the newly christened Silo Studio with engineer and percussionist Logan Billingsley laying down tracks, tweaking, and comping. The result is quite the accomplishment, not only reaffirming the artist’s chops as a songwriter, but her new byline as a producer to boot.

After listening to the record in full, one might ask: what are the pieces of Camille Bloom? Songwriter. Producer. Teacher. Singer. Wearer of brightly patterned shirts. Scorpio. Wife.

Even putting all of her qualifications into a list or resume seems reductive, and I am brought back to what that guy Aristotle said: “The whole is greater than the sum of its parts.” So no matter how wonderful each piece of Camille Bloom may be, what they add up to is something so lovely that even I struggle to put it into words. So I will just let her.

(Did I mention she’s my big sister?)

Watch the video for “Pieces of Me” below.

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PLAYING DETROIT: Nydge “Lemme Know” (Feat. Joshua)

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Detroit has always been the dark horse holy ground for musical exploration and long-term contribution to music at large. Assemble Sound, a collective of collaborative artists as well as a full-fledged recording studio nestled in a historic church in Detroit’s Corktown district, is redefining the music community and blowing the glass ceiling off of possibilities for local artists.

In the spirit of collaboration, Assemble forged an idea that would allow artists to experiment with each other’s sound as well as find a home for whatever mashup is born from that session. The Sunday Song Series (which stipulates that the song must be a collaboration and go through the peer review process and, of course, must be recorded at Assemble Sound). It’s an “all-hands-on-deck” situation at Assemble, but not because there aren’t enough hands to start with. Rather, an extension on Assemble’s philosophy which is deeply rooted in exploration of creative freedom while still focusing on the formalities of how to succeed in the industry. At the end of summer, Assemble will release a 12-track album of all the Sunday Song Series and as summer comes to a close, we are gifted song 11 from the series which is a collaboration between Nydge (producer and soundsmith Nigel Van Hemmye) and Joshua (one half of trip-hop duo Gosh Pith) titled “Lemme Know.”

A trippy love ballad that begs for another chance and bounces around like teenagers flirting at the mall, “Lemme Know” is a playful plea and a totally danceable account of an impending heartbreak. The shimmying synths and periodic chimes give a montage feel; from first kiss, to meeting the fam, to growing disinterest to a bold “take-me-back” 80s John Cusack worthy gesture. The song is quick but satiated; Joshua’s verses are sleepily distressed until the chorus builds to a hopeful plan to “keep this love alive” where his vocals climax. The production is radio ready and could easily squeeze a female vocalist to duet the cat and mouse fluctuation of who loves who and how hard. But the track is effective with Joshua’s singular bright side desperation as Nigel’s fashion show runway mixtape vibe clashes to form pop purity at its funnest.

Listen to the collaboration below and click here if you want to know what’s happening at Assemble.

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ALBUM REVIEW + ARTIST INTERVIEW: Prinze George “Illiterate Synth Pop”

The Brooklyn-based pop trio Prinze George just blessed us with the celestial sounds of their debut album, Illiterate Synth Pop.

The band is made up of Kenny Grimm working production, Isabelle De Leon working the drums, and Naomi Almquist working the mic. The three got together in Prince George’s County, Maryland in 2013 and have been inching their way to damn-near perfection ever since.

Illiterate Synth Pop takes its listeners on the divine journey of life, with its authentic narratives about feeling stuck, feeling love and finding a way to move forward.

The album left me with two take-aways: motivation and tranquility. After listening to tracks like “Move It” and “Wait Up,” you can’t help but feel inspired to do better and become greater.

Each song embodies a flawless sequence of Almquist’s heavenly voice floating over unique electronic synths and the dope beat of De Leon’s drums. It’s quite the combination, as you realize that each track is not only sensationally soothing, but super raw.

You can feel this in “Angels,” as the songs starts with choir-like electronics that get you in a daze, and then the beat of drums comes in hard, switching up the entire style of what you think the song is going to be. The vocals on this song make you feel like you are in the clouds, and angels are serenading you, protecting you. This track is eclectic, and can be appreciated by anyone, regardless of what music genre they’re into.

The album stays upbeat with tracks like “Kisses” and “Freeze” while interweaving the more chill songs like “The Water Main” and “Gonna Get You Out.”

There’s a line in “The Water Main” where Almquists says, “I’m awake and I find it exhausting,” – this is one of my favorite lines, because it shows the feeling of melancholy we all experience at certain times in our life, and kind of just feeling confused.

Illiterate Synth Pop is an impressively moving project, and I got a chance to speak with vocalist Naomi Almquist about its creation.

AudioFemme: I’m obsessed with the title of this album. The term ‘illiterate’ is usually not seen as a positive thing. What did you guys intend for the meaning behind the title “Illiterate Synth Pop?”

Naomi Almquist: Thank you! When we released our second single “Victor” in 2014, there was a blog that reposted the song with the headline “Illiterate synth pop.” They were making fun of the way we spell our name, but we thought it was funny and would make a good album name.

What were your main inspirations for the sound, flow & lyrics in creating this project?

Kenny is the producer, so a lot of the sound comes from his mad scientist brain and his excellent taste, musicianship and obsession with having the coolest and most current toys and sounds. All three of us are very inspired by the home that we share and by this journey we are on together. I write the vocals; most of the lyrics are inspired by the earliest experiences and relationships of my life here.

What does it feel like to be releasing “Illiterate Synth Pop” as your debut LP?

It is very emotional for all of us. It’s been a weird in-between year and a half for the three of us, we’ve been picking up steam professionally, but it doesn’t happen overnight. We took a year to make the record. We’re still living with our parents. We love Maryland but we’re ready to get the fuck out. Making this record was such an incredible experience; we recorded it in Minneapolis and I recorded the vocals in an airstream inside our managers warehouse. Prince’s former engineer, Evan Bakke, tracked the drums and vocals. It was a surreal and wonderful way to make a first record. There were good vibes in the creative space and we are so excited to finally be able to share it.

What type of energy would you like this album to create for people? What would you like people to take away from it after listening?

I just want people to hear it. We don’t get to control the way that people respond to our music and that is the beauty of making something that you mean and releasing it to the world. We’re not on some huge major label, we’re not trying to stuff this down people’s throats. It’s our first record. I’m curious to see what people think of it but I expect nothing. I’m stoked every time someone likes a song. I mainly just don’t want people to lie about the way our music makes them feel. Just don’t lie to me. (Lol)

Who are some of your inspirations creatively and musically?

PG: Kenny’s earliest inspirations were AC/DC and movie scores, Isabelle’s was MUSE, mine were predominantly female singer-songwriters; namely Lauryn Hill. Isabelle and I are both Beyonce fans as well and are obsessed with her new record. I love jack white and the white stripes; they led me to the decision to select and commit to a relentless color scheme in everything we do.

For people who aren’t familiar with Prinze George, what would you like them to know about Prinze George and your music?

We make synth pop, but there is a large range to what we can do. We have a lot of Hometown pride, family pride, and love for one another. We hope that it shows.

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PLAYING DETROIT: When The Party Ends/Begins: A Detroit Techno Playlist

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In the 80s, Detroit took on Chicago House and European electronica and quickly became pioneers in the creation of techno and the myriad of sub genres that followed. As an adverse counterpart to popular music, techno challenged radio ready hits and the contradictory exclusivity of punk while maintaining a sonic political retaliation against inner-city struggle. In doing so the city created a sphere in which bass lines and drum beats invited the world to move both inward and outward.

This past weekend marked what most of Detroit consider to be more holy than Christmas. The  Movement Festival honors the birthplace of techno and electronic music by throwing the most playfully outrageous three-day party where freaks can be freaks and non-freaks can unearth their spiritual resonance. Whether you’re finding yourself, losing yourself or just curious enough to feel something new, there is no better opportunity than Movement. Yes, like any festival you can anticipate $4 bottles of water and over policing and under-supplying of toilet paper, but what Movement offers the techno community is a true celebration of one of the most unexpectedly poetic musical revolutions in the history of the city and quite honestly, the world. A culture was born. People found home. And while our pillowcases may feel abandoned as we collectively remove glitter out of our tear ducts,  we are still coming down from the trip. Below are some of my favorite sedated, ambient tracks for the end of the after-after party (or just as suitably for the beginning).

  1. Stacey “Hotwaxx” Hale “The PeeKs” (2016)
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  2. Jon Zott “Make Plans” ft. Yellokake (2015)
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    Most notably one of the busiest most desirable producers in Detroit, Jon Zott has a remarkable ear for bass line heartbeats. “Make Plans” flirts with pop vocals and muffled beat subtlety that feels sexy and sad.
  3. Carl Craig “At Les” (1997)

    Carl Craig is one of the most influential producers and DJ’s in Detroit’s rich techno history. His catalog swells and deflates with a subversive consciousness that gives the aural illusion of time travel; sounds bouncing back and forth off of one another like a psychedelic paradox. “At Les” is a prime example of this restraint vs. release vibe while still remaining stoned and ambient.

    4. Cybotron “Techno City” (1984)

    Formed in 1980 by Juan Atkins and Richard “3070” Davis, Cybotron paved the way for the echoing, intergalactic seduction that has been a cornerstone of Techno for years. “Techno City” feels grimy and sludgy yet invites you into their underground with a sexual pulse.

    5. Kevin Saunderson “E-Dancer” (1996)

    One cannot mention techno without recognizing one of the most detrimental founding fathers of the genre, Kevin Saunderson. Having reshaped electronic music with his insatiable knack for channeling both the past and future through trance-like grooves and dizzying tremors, Saunderson’s “E-Dancer” is a great example of his distorted snake funk.

    6. BLKSHRK “Arm Floatties (Night Swim)” (2015)

    Eddie Logix and Blair French teamed up to form BLKSHRK, an underwater groove that pulses and pumps with a delicacy suited for a tangled dance of sea amoeba and space-age mer-folk.

    7. Stone Owl “Chemtrails” (2013)

    An elusive twosome, Stone Owl is a local techno cult favorite. Although dance-able, Stone Owl latched onto an underlying sinister playfulness that pokes and prods the darkness out of the light. “CHEMTRAILS” is calming with bursts of anxious energy that sizzles like electricity in water, creating a chasm that shakes you from your hiding place.

     

     

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NEWS ROUNDUP: New Singles, Bob Dylan, & Mitski

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  • Quadruple Singles
    • There was a ton of great new music released this week. Here’s four of the best singles we heard:
  • The Strokes: “Threat of Joy” is the latest single from The Strokes’ upcoming EP Future Present Past.  They take an easy-going beat and infuse it with tense energy, the lyrics quietly seething. The EP will be released via Cult on 6/3; check out the single below.

  • HOLYCHILD: The shimmering “brat pop” duo are back with “Rotten Teeth,” which features Kate Nash. Their music sounds like it comes from whatever pop factory churns out radio friendly hits these days, but pulls at the stray threads of culture, exposing the darker side with lines like “I know I’ll never be the girl I want to be” and “Do we eat or just starve ourselves tonight?”

  • Cass McCombs & Angel Olsen: McCombs and Olsen teamed up on “Opposite House,” a faintly jazzy track that creates a mystical space for guitar riffs to flutter in and out of and gentle harmonies to float through. Look for its accompanying album, Mangy Love, on 8/26.

  • Dinosaur JR: On Tuesday, Dinosaur Jr. debuted “Tiny,” the single from Give a Glimpse of What Yer Not, on Later… With Jools Holland. It’s classic alternative rock typical of the band.

  • Bob Dylan Celebrates 75th Birthday

    In honor of Dylan’s 75th birthday on Tuesday, Animal Collective released their own, remixed version of “Don’t Think Twice, It’s Alright.” Other artists honored the folk legend by covering his songs, such as Kesha. She sang  “It Ain’t Me” at the Billboard Music Awards and “I Shall Be Released” at Dylan Fest in Nashville.

  • Watch Mitski’s New Video for “Happy”

    On Monday Mitski released her music video for “Happy.” It takes a lot of twists and turns: a romance blossoms, then turns to heartbreak, with a gory ending that’s unexpected and somewhat terrifying. The song itself is a contemplative look at love and loneliness, and as a bonus, has an awesome saxophone part.

ALBUM REVIEW: Meilyr Jones “2013”

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It doesn’t matter if you’ve never heard of Meilyr Jones, or his former band Race Horses. It doesn’t matter if you think Jones is English, when in fact, he’s a Welshman. It doesn’t even matter if you’re stumped on how exactly to pronounce “Meilyr”-because an authoritative voice tells you within the first 30 seconds of 2013’s opening track “How To Recognise A Work of Art.”

These things cease to matter, not because they are uninteresting, but because it is such a great record that it speaks for itself. It stands on its own two feet.

2013 is many things-a contemporary foray into baroque and renaissance influences, a brilliant pop record, a sonic odyssey with innumerable peaks and valleys. But it is also a love letter to Rome, the breeding ground for many of songs on the album. After the disbandment of Race Horses and the end of a relationship, Jones romantically fled to the ancient city, catalyzed by reading art history texts and Byron’s Don Juan. “I got really taken over by the feeling of adventure and passion in Byron, and some of Shelley’s poetry and Keats as well. And they were all people who went to Rome.” Jones mentioned in a press release.

And so along with everything else, 2013 has yet another incarnation, as a scrapbook of Jones’s time in Rome, and everything he loves in general. “I wanted to make something that felt right to me and expressed my interests, which are classical music and rock ‘n’ roll music, and films, and nature and karaoke, and tacky stuff,” Jones says. “And I wanted to capture that feeling in Rome of high culture and low-brow stuff all mixed together.” For a record so difficult to nail down, it is comforting to know that such a stew of influences went into making it.

It might amaze you, as it did me, that five of the twelve tracks on 2013 were recorded live in all of one day with a 30 plus piece orchestra that Jones assembled himself. Jones told press that he “wanted to record it completely live. The idea was doing it like a Frank Sinatra session.” And that idea certainly comes across in the grand arrangements Jones has served up.

He’s a songwriter with big ideas, delivering lofty compositions of the finest kind. “How To Recognise A Work Of Art” confirms the pop chops Jones has been refining since his days in Race Horses, the sweeping orchestral arrangements bringing a whole new dimension to otherwise infectious hooks.

 

 

“Don Juan” slows the record down to a honeyed melancholy, which is the only place to go after a banger such as “How To Recognise A Work Of Art.” Inspired by the same poem that led him to Italy, “Don Juan” is a nod to the baroque with subtle harpsichord and recorder riffs. The opening notes remind me of the exoticism found in The Stranglers’ “Golden Brown,” a similar genre-bending track. While straying from gimmick, “Don Juan” does render a lush image of open-bloused sirs flung upon velvet divans, drinking not from cups, but goblets.  

One of the most compelling aspects of Jones’s songs is that they behave more like Classical compositions or film scores than traditional pop music. They never end where they began, and traverse twisting paths the whole way through. “Passionate Friend” thumps along like the opening number in a sinister musical, the first words to which are nearly whispered by Jones: “Sometimes I am with the witches//on fire, fast and ruined//sometimes all around, with the honey in me, I quicken.”

“Refugees” is the emotional core of 2013, seemingly the most obvious breakup song. The leading single off the record, it is the first song I heard by Meilyr Jones, and it continues to resonate deeply with me. It is spare enough to exhibit his incredible talent; there are no bells, whistles, or harpsichords, just Jones at the piano with his striking choirboy voice.

 

 

2013 is an album in two acts, bisected on either side of “Rain In Rome,” an instrumental that melds organ with pattering raindrops and violent applause. It is a joyous palette cleanser, as the remainder of the album will volley from straight up rock with “Strange Emotional” to classical dramas such as “Return To Life” and “Olivia,” the latter of which features an operatic choir. There is a lot going on here, but I wouldn’t change it a bit.

I could all too easily write a synopsis of every track on this record, which is something I am rarely compelled to do…but 2013 is that wonderful. There isn’t a mediocre song on it. If you like Kate Bush, Van Morrison, The Zombies, if you like classical, eccentric, baroque, chamber, psychedelic, garage, or just slickly written pop, I recommend, beg, entreat you: give Meilyr Jones a chance. You will never be bored again.

2013 is out now via Moshi Moshi Records.

 

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ONLY NOISE: In Memoriam: David Bowie

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After my parents separated, my mom converted our home into what she liked to call “The House of Freedom.” Upon entering The House of Freedom, it was recommended you remove your bra. There, the Halloween decorations hung around into the New Year and Christmas lights punctuated our window frames long past their respective season. In The House of Freedom we took dinner on the couch, our plates sat on pillows propped on knees while a movie played. One of mom’s favorite exercises in “freedom” was the constant attempt to dissuade my studious pursuits. “And if the homework/brings you down/then we’ll throw it on the fire/and take the car DOWNTOWN!” she would sing.

At eight, this infuriated me. First of all, we didn’t have a downtown. The prospect of homework was wildly more exciting than puttering down the single street that made up my town’s “epicenter.” Secondly, I knew how these things worked. Neglecting your homework, like smoking cigarettes, was gateway behavior. If I didn’t respect my scholastic duties, then I wouldn’t pass the upcoming test, which meant I wouldn’t make it to high school, wouldn’t go to college, and would most likely die poor and alone.

What I did not know, was that this bizarre line my mother belted at me was not in fact her own material, but David Bowie’s, specifically lifted from the song “Kooks” off of 1971’s Hunky Dory. As with many aspects of culture that tremendously impact one’s life, Bowie floated into my frame of awareness long before I recognized his importance. His 1983 smash record Let’s Dance played at all of my parents’ trademark parties. I ogled at his Goblin King in Jim Henson’s Labyrinth before I could spell. And though I have no evidence to prove it, I suspect his music scored a large portion of my gestation period.  But my first conscious acknowledgment of his art had to be with Hunky Dory…with that line from “Kooks.”

In the shadow of his death in January, I cannot go long without conjuring the exact moment I heard of his passing. Oddly enough I had pitched an article to The Guardian hours before his death. The subject? What could Bowie’s Blackstar teach us about longevity in the music industry? Yikes. I woke the next morning to a tweet from The Guardian reading: “Remembering David Bowie.” I felt sick, and in my sleepy delirium thought for a moment that I may have killed him with my pitch. I desperately wanted to call my mother, who would later jest that I had in fact killed Bowie. But it was six in the morning in New York, and she lives by Pacific Standard Time, forever “three hours younger,” as she says.

As a music journalist I think a lot about the associative powers music has. I can’t say it is true for everyone, but for me, music has an intravenous drip into memory. The first time I heard a specific record, where I was, and most importantly, who played it for me, can all be summoned with the first chord of a song. This of course can occasionally be more of a curse than blessing, but not in the case f Bowie.

As I listened to tribute show after tribute show in the days following his death, there was a remark I heard from nearly every DJ: that one of the reasons Bowie’s passing is so mournful, is that we associate his music with the loved ones who shared it with us in the first place. So all the while I am grieving David Bowie, I am thinking of my mother as well, who, I should say for the sake of levity, is very much alive. But I can’t help but wince at the memento mori at play here-if I’m this choked up about someone I’ve never met, the thought of things to come in later life terrify me.

Within the span of a few years “Kooks” was our song. My mom still couldn’t lure me from my school books, but my newfound enthusiasm for punk rock lead me to her record collection. It seemed that every band I listened to all worshipped the same ivory idol: Bowie. He was omnipresent in the art world, cross-cultural even. One minute aiding the careers of proto-punks such as Iggy Pop and the next singing Christmas carols on network television with Bing Crosby. And in the year leading up to his Thin White Duke period, he became the first Caucasian artist to appear on Soul Train in 1975. Think about that.

Everything I loved pointed to him.  When faced with the task to “put something on” while dinner was in the making, I would shuffle over to our massive China hutch and crack open the bottom cabinet. Only a handful of my mother’s records remained-maybe 60 or so, all peeling spines and smudged vinyl. Where the rest had gone was and still is a point of contention between her and my dad.

For our family, records weren’t just records, but tangible emblems of what is lost and gained in divorce. Who originally owned what was constantly debated, and my mom, having already endured two previous marriages, had brilliantly tattooed her record sleeves with a little blue star. Her copy of Aladdin Sane wore its star smack in the middle of Bowie’s forehead.

That China hutch was my doorway to The Stones, The Specials, The Pretenders, Wire, Big Country, The English Beat, and Blondie. But the big one was of course Bowie, who influenced most of those bands. She didn’t have everything, but quite a chunk: Hunky Dory, Pin Ups, Diamond Dogs, Young Americans, Lodger, Aladdin Sane, The Rise And Fall Of Ziggy Stardust And The Spiders From Mars.

I’m not sure which album I leapt to right after Hunky Dory, but Diamond Dogs couldn’t have come long behind. I was reading Orwell in school and was thrilled to hear the slinky, red-mulleted man put his dystopian themes to pop songs. The opening poem “Future Legend” mesmerized me…I didn’t know you could kick off a record like that. And when the last stanza stumbled into the title track, mom and I would bark in unison: “AS THEY PULLED YOU OUT OF THE OXYGEN TANK/YOU ASKED FOR THE LATEST PART-AY!!!”

I always thought that line was utter brilliance-a self-reflective jab and the self-destructive hedonism of the 1970s perhaps. To mom, I think it hit a bit closer to home. Maybe a smiling reprimand of those she lost to too much fun in the same decade. Maybe it was a salute to her own desires, ones she kept at bay for the sake of us kids.

She always had a specific way of interacting with her Bowie albums, a personal touch for each song. When we listened to Ziggy Stardust she’d come alive during “Suffragette City.” She loved to change the lyrics around, which enraged me as self-righteous 12 year old, but now I ascribe it to her exasperating charm. Instead of “Suffragette City,” it became “Surfer Cat City,” an autobiographical nod to her hometown of Huntington Beach.

Mom was expecting my call on January 10th. “It’s weird, but I think you’re more upset about this than I am,” she said. We laughed at that because we are good at laughing when things go wrong. I told her I’d cried, but omitted the fact that I was more visibly shaken than I was at Grandpa’s funeral. It is not something I am proud of, or able to explain. The thing is, I can’t entirely justify the melancholy that I felt, and still feel. Or rather, I can justify the misery itself, but not its magnitude when compared with the thousand other tragedies of daily life.

The day after Bowie passed I listened to BBC 6 Music. In between songs and DJs lamenting there were occasional newsbreaks discussing not only his death, but also your everyday tales of murder, war, poverty and starvation. The latter camp should clearly elicit more woe; and yet, shamed as I am to say it, the former is what brought me to tears. As with my composure at my Grandfather’s funeral, I am not proud to admit this, but I also have no control over it.

Could it simply be that from birth we are pursued by one sickening headline after another? And therefore become impervious to their scratch? Surely, that must have an effect. But I also suspect that the rarity of beauty plays a supporting role here. Perhaps Bowie’s vast, profound and exceptional art has so penetrated our cells, his absence aches like a phantom limb.

In all my years of listening to Bowie, I’ve never spent too much time analyzing his personal life or lyrics. All of it seemed perfect to me, and I feared that any attempt at decoding would strip the artist of his mysticism (as if Ihad the power to do that). But now that he is no longer with us I’ve allowed myself to pour over interviews for the first time, and I must say that he is more mystic to me than ever. Strangely because of how wonderfully human he could be…how down to earth, kind, and hilarious. Every newfound facet of him becomes a little present, like a longtime friend or lover who still manages to surprise you.  I now find so much joy in knowing that “Kooks” was in fact written for the birth of David’s first child Duncan Jones; it is, at the end of the day, a celebration of parenthood, of unconditional love. Apparently my mother has known this all along.

VIDEO PREMIERE: Milán “DK6”

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Austrian-born, Brooklyn-based singer/songwriter Maria Neckam is Milán, and we’re here to give a new meaning to Super Tuesday by premiering new music video. The closer Trump gets to securing that nomination, the more we need our artists to prepare for the revolution. The song, “DK6” is off Milán’s self-titled debut EP and was produced by Jim Orso (Holy Ghost!, Hot Chip etc.), so she’s bringing the A-game with this one. The video was directed by award-winning filmmaker Jen Wilmeth (Pride: the Series), and features dance choreography by Karen Niceley (Metropolitan Opera, Cirque de Soleil, Broadway’s The Color Purple).

The electro-pop star explained in an email to AudioFemme that “DK6” stands for “Devil King of the 6th Heaven.” The expression comes from SGI Buddhism philosophy, which Milán practices. “It’s a metaphor for the negativity that’s inherent in all life, that tries to prevent people/us from becoming happy,” said Milán. “The function of DK6 is to suck out your life force, take away your joy, confidence, conviction, strength – (as opposed to your Buddha nature, which is the most positive force.) So when DK6 is in the house, it means trouble!”

“Can’t you see that…you hold me back!” she sings. In one form or another, from a controlling boss to an abusive boyfriend, we’ve all experienced the vampiric DK6.

The video features Milán in her element on a classic Brooklyn rooftop, playing music, when the embodied DK6 casts a nasty spell on her. The singer is transported to a forest and must use music to survive. “The story is a metaphor of the inner battles we wage inside of us each day. The doubt and fears we have to win over, in order to believe in ourselves and the unlimited potential each one of us has,” Milán told AudioFemme in an email. “It’s about winning over darkness and claiming your right to be happy, just as you are.”

Check out the video below, and stay tuned for Milán’s new single and EP, produced by Pax Humana, later this month!

ALBUM REVIEW: Money “Suicide Songs”

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Glancing at the tracklist for Money’s sophomore LP Suicide Songs, one might suspect singer/songwriter Jamie Lee has a tenuous relationship with subtlety. Titular track aside, the record touts audacious titles such as “Cocaine Christmas and an Alcoholic’s New Year” and opening anthem “I am the Lord.” The album art is no less provocative, featuring a par-naked Lee balancing a knife on his forehead. Though these names and images may seem flippant on paper, the gorgeous density of Money’s music elevates them contextually; there isn’t a scrap of irony to be had here.

The Mancunian band made a grand entrance with their debut record The Shadow of Heaven (Bella Union) in 2013, a dazzling hymnal pop opus that is nothing if not beautiful and original. The album dealt with dense themes, manifesting in songs such as “So Long (God is Dead)” and “The Cruelty of Godliness.”

In keeping with the last record, Lee is approaching concepts laden with baggage and trying to look at them from a different vantage point, perhaps imbuing them with new meaning along the way.

“Above all else, I’m just trying to project and portray a poetic truth,” Lee said in a press release. “Suicide is about anonymity, to the point where you don’t exist, which I definitely feel in my songwriting and as a person. But rather than writing myself out of anonymity, I want to remain there, in this record at least. It’s recognizing a kind of sacrificial nature, in making artistic choices. By rummaging around in your feelings and trying to make sense of life, to the detriment of your health, there might be some poetic value to what you have created.”

In a strange way, despite the intensity of Suicide Songs, it does seem Lee has achieved a sort of anonymity, if only due to the force of the album’s instrumental arrangements. His vocals are less pristine on this new material…there is a drunk and snarling slouch to them, and they easily surrender to the orchestral maelstrom of each track. He sounds raw, worn and drowned by desperation, but with good reason. In a press release, Lee confirms that he “wanted the album to sound like it was ‘coming from death’ which is where these songs emerged.”

It seemed that The Shadow Of Heaven would be a difficult act to follow up, but this new record is nowhere near slumping. Instead, it’s leaping upwards towards vast sonic peaks employing horns, strings, choirs, sorrow, and pandemonium. It is, in a word, a BIG album. Sprawling and open, it practically generates its own tidal system.

“I am the Lord” kicks off with lulling strings that resolve to twanging guitar. It builds with atmospheric hand drums, and ghostly harmonies reminiscent of Cocteau Twins. Lee diminishes the implication of the song’s title when he sings “I don’t want to be god, I just don’t want to be human.” It’s the kind of otherworldly, yet oddly relatable statement that has become Money’s lyrical trademark.

Part lullaby, part funeral ballad, “You Look Like a Sad Painting on Both Sides of the Sky” is a strangely sweet song. It is one of the more sonically sparse offerings on the record, sticking to hushed acoustic guitar and piano, with understated drums and cello. But its pretty simplicity doesn’t ebb its melancholy. In fact, the contrast seems to heighten our sense of woe as Lee belts out lines such as: “there will be music all around, when they put me in the ground.”

The entire album is rife with this sort of tension, whether it lies in the discrepancy between lyrical content and the key of the song, or Lee’s ability as a composer to make you feel uplifted and miserable at the same time. This isn’t a record for people who like background music. The closer you listen, the more nuances you can enjoy. It’s a piece of work that unfurls more with every play.

In “Night Came” Lee establishes himself as a modern maestro of crescendo. The track commences in sprawling, muted riffs only to rise steadily into a skyward collision. But the album’s most powerful track is without a doubt “All My Life,” a banging six and a half minutes of heartrending majors and plummeting minor chords. This is Lee at his biggest, holding nothing back. Not reverb, not gospel harmonies, not lead guitar, and certainly not a full drum kit. But once again, the emotive scale of the song is undercut by bleak lyrics. In the chorus Lee confesses “all my life I’ve been searching for something, so I always ended up with nothing,” a truth that leaves him neither here nor there.

Part of what makes this record so great is that it was composed as nothing less than an album; as a continuous narrative in which each song sonically relates to the next, like chapters in a book. While so many contemporary LPs seem thrown together as a compilation of disparate tracks, Suicide Songs maintains a dense thread throughout its 42 minutes. And this thread is as much formal as it is textual. Lee delivers a consistent dose of heady subject matter, yes, but he’s also managed to arrange this album to bear the aural equivalent of dramatic structure; grabbing our attention with “I am the Lord,” building to the crashing climax of “All My Life,” and settling with “Cocaine Christmas and an Alcoholic’s New Year” (the latter having Lee at his most Tom Waits).

At the end of the day, Lee does seem to prefer the overt to the subtle, as he plainly explains that “the record is morbid and bleak, and never resolves itself. The only real kind of triumphant realization is being able to express the morbidity of the situation I found myself in.” It’s the kind of statement you’d expect from someone like Lee, a self-effacing British musician, but I’d say that Suicide Songs is triumphant all on its own. Period.

Suicide Songs is out now on Bella Union.

 

PLAYING DETROIT: Mayer Hawthorne “Cosmic Love”

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Detroit-adopted Ann Arborite and premier Motown revivalist, Mayer Hawthorne, returned this week with another funk infused groove, “Cosmic Love” from his fourth solo studio LP (his first in three years) due out this spring. If you’re unfamiliar, you might think Hawthorne is just another white boy relying on soulful affectation. What you should know is that Hawthorne has built his reputation on authentically modernizing funk, soul and Detroit’s signature Motown sound in a way that has always felt fresh and fun but with a soothing melancholy that speaks to what Hawthorne does best: croon and groove.

This time around, however, I feel as though Hawthorne missed an opportunity. “Cosmic Love”, for me, is borderline comical. It could fit into a shaky Shaft-esque 1970’s amateur porn or a montage scene from an Anchorman movie with equal fluidity. It’s satirical in its literal interpretation using galactic twinkling synths, Hawthorne’s spacey echoed vocals, and the breathy female background chorus, all of which makes “Cosmic Love” feel more like a store-bought Halloween costume than a reinvention of your parent’s vintage wardrobe.

Am I a jerk for longing for heartbroken, lovelorn Hawthorne circa 2009’s A Strange Arrangement? Or story driven, assertively dreamy Hawthorne from 2013’s Where Does This Door Go? Considering Hawthorne is an artist who begs us to turn the clocks back, isn’t it natural for me to want to do the same? It should be said that I like “Cosmic Love.” I do. I can appreciate its playful, candied kitsch. The single opens with the lyrics “If I had a dollar/For every dream of you and me/I’d buy myself a rocket/And shoot into your galaxy” and by the end all I can think is that I wished he would have shot a little further.

Listen to “Cosmic Love” for yourself below:

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BAND OF THE MONTH: A Place Both Wonderful And Strange

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Sorry For Your Loss, the debut album of the ‘occult electronic dance music’ duo A Place Both Wonderful And Strange, is like an eerie journey into a dark forest; it’s terrifying, yet beautiful, and you can only arrowope you’ll make it out alive. This duality in Niabi Aquena and Russ Marshalek’s music perfectly fits the duo’s Twin Peaks references. “Pedestal” prominently features longing vocals and mysterious whispers provided by Niabi, while the sounds of wind and static surround her. The song’s theme is echoed in the last track, “blue is like drowning and drowning is like this.” “DONT,” however, shrugs off beauty and is straightforwardly creepy, with a taunting, sinister voice and an accompanying music video that shows religious fervor in a darker light.

Though they have a lot of upcoming projects in 2016, Niabi and Russ took the time to talk to us about the occult, their love for dogs, and how they started their duo (you’ll find a stream for Sorry For Your Loss at the bottom of the page).

AudioFemme: How did you two meet? 

Niabi: We’d begun the dialogue of wanting to work together after he booked my solo project for a Tori Amos covers night of her album “Under the Pink.”  I covered “Icicle” and Russ covered “The Waitress.” We both gravitated, as individuals, to a more beat-orientated, abstract version of our covers, so when he asked if I’d be interested in joining him, it felt quite natural and logical.  

Russ: When I moved to New York I was throwing shoegaze parties, and Niabi, ever the shoegaze aficionado, would come out. When my former band played our second 92Y Tribeca gig and were asked to curate a night of moody, Lynchian music, we booked Niabi’s solo project and she got a great response. We tossed around the idea of making music together for a long, long time, but we finally started poking away at it at the end of last year. The energy just felt right so we figured we should at least nail down the tunes we had made together.

AF: Where are you from originally? 

Niabi: I’m from the Shenandoah Valley, in Virginia. We’re talking very rural here. I grew up on a dirt road and my address was a route number. We heated our home with a wood stove; my mother being the one, as a single parent, to chop the wood. There was no cable, no internet. I wouldn’t trade that experience for anything though. I feel very lucky and grateful to have the upbringing that I did.

Russ: Atlanta, Georgia. I miss it at times. I sometimes wonder if I’d tried harder down there if I could’ve had the successes I’ve had in New York. Sometimes I fantasize about taking my band and my dog and my fiancee and running away back south.

AF: You call your music a “raw, visceral mess.” Can you expand more on this? How does it affect your art, and life in general?

Niabi: After playing in a bunch of bands, including my solo project, I got so tired of striving for perfection. I felt real dismay, not feeling like I could be more playful and experiment without major judgement from others and myself.  So now working with Russ in APBWAS, it’s wild and I don’t really know how it happened, but I feel so free to be myself and be experimental without fear of failure.  If something doesn’t stick, it’s okay, and when it does – holy hell how neat.  So everything has gotten a lot more raw and a lot more natural, [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”][both] in our process of creating and certainly when we play live as well.  

Russ: I have no formal musical training, which probably won’t come as a shock to anyone. So a lot of my creative process is literally slopping around in ephemera, taking samples to places where they’re unrecognizable, crafting sounds based on how much I can possibly tolerate. Niabi’s the first person I’ve ever worked with who can, well, work with me in this way. For me, it’s how I live my life, too. I live and love big, messy, and without apology or forethought, and I think that reflects in the music, as well as the performance. We’re two people but we’re big, loud, and messy.

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AF: I read about the Goths for Dogs show you were involved in. It’s an amazing idea- though, since you describe your genre as Occult Dance Music, I thought you’d be more into cats. Which animal is your favorite, and why? 

Niabi: I love all animals, it’s difficult to name one as a favorite. Right now, I only have a dog. His name is Odie and he’s a blind senior with many missing teeth. “Goths for Dogs” raised money for both of the rescues where we got our current animal friends. To quote one of my favorite art films, Nadja: “I have walked behind the sky, we are all animals.” So that is my answer.  There is no favorite, we are all animals.

Russ: I fucking hate cats. As a dear friend said, “If I wanted to throw money at something that doesn’t care about me, I’d invite a man over.” I definitely didn’t choose my dog, Mr. Frito Burrito, he chose me, and he is my favorite animal. He worked on a video with us for Goths for Dogs, by the way:

AF: In your music video for “DONT,” I really liked how you placed such a dark, moody song over the religious archival footage. I was wondering if you could explain: Does association with the occult mean a different kind of religion, or the absence of religion? 

Niabi: I’d say a different sort of religion. I’m deeply spiritual of a person, gravitating towards a more Wiccan practice of earth based ritual. The moon and recognition of celebrated earth holidays, solstices, and equinoxes are a very big part of who I am. Of course I am referencing of some very old knowledge here that is actually the influencer of modern Christianity. The thread between paganism and Christianity is not only tangible but historic.

Russ: For me, the occult association is a different kind of religion. Practicing witchcraft, for me, is about personal empowerment as well as appreciating the forces that are beyond my control. It’s made me a much more grateful person.

AF: You picked a great band name. What is the strangest place you’ve been to, or situation you’ve found yourselves in? What about wonderful, or beautiful? 

Niabi: It takes a lot for me to consider something strange. Although if I would have to, I’d say humans’ gravitation towards negativity and hatred.  I don’t understand how others intentionally try to hurt people. In risking like sounding like a total fucking hippy, I just wish there could be love everywhere and with everything. On beauty, I’d like to offer another quote that I’ve held for many years. I adore mid century art and design and of course love Charles and Ray Eames. I think that he nailed it when he stated that he wanted to find “the uncommon beauty of common things.” Beauty is everywhere if you just open your eyes and look.

Russ: Without getting into it, I every so often have extreme auditory hallucinations. And definitely that is the strangest, because suddenly, in the actual tangible physical world, I experience the deepest and most terrifying parts of my brain, the parts even I keep secret from myself, acting as though they’re real, and present. Some of it is what bleeds into our song “Way Out.” For beautiful: Iceland. Iceland Iceland Iceland. We’re trying so hard to get into Airwaves [Music Festival] this year.

AF: What can you tell us about your upcoming projects?

Niabi: There’s much on the docket for 2016, personally I’m very excited. Our second album is to be recorded upstate in a real cabin with a real wood stove, which I’m very excited about given my mountaineer-woman upbringing.

Russ: I’m terribly influenced by our friends/mentors-of-a-sort Azar Swan, and they talk about their upcoming albums by labeling them LP#, LP#, etc, until they have real names, and so I’ve taken to calling everything LP2, LP3, and LP4, because those are what’s on the docket right now. LP2 is going to be recorded in a house up in the fuck-off woods of Phoenicia, a place that’s really magical, and it’s going to be a version of our touring Keys Open Doors: Hidden Life of Laura Palmer show.

Niabi: During the recording of our second album, we are also going to play with the beginning songs of our third album, which will be more of a collaboration with Vanessa of The Harrow and Synesect and the magical Shanda. 

Russ: LP3 we’re writing and recording with Vanessa Irena aka knifesex, aka my fiancee, and our dear friend Shanda. Niabi and I really want to try and make that one an album that’s very much taking the idea of weird electronic dance music and applying some song structure to it. I’m thinking huge, world-stopping choruses.

Niabi: Our intention with the third album is for something more structured, slightly more commercially accessible, with songs that have a chorus and maybe a bridge.  Our fourth album will be recorded at the end of the year, however at the moment I can’t say anything more beyond that we have a very exciting producer who we’re working with and it’s going to be incredible.

 

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ARTIST INTERVIEW: Lithuania

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The main members of  Lithuania are involved in other, vastly different projects: Dominic Angelella plays in the psych-rock band DRGN KING, and Eric Slick plays drums with Dr. Dog. The pair have been friends since meeting at Philadelphia’ UArts, and though it took a decade of collaboration, they made a high-energy, raw album about their friendship, appropriately titled Hardcore Friends. After the record’s release in September, they went on a tour with Beach Slang that ended late November. After their set at The Knitting Factory last night, they shed some light on topics like when the next Lithuania album is coming out, what makes a hardcore friend, and what they think about Steely Dan. Read the interview and check out their album below.

AudioFemme: You guys played a new song tonight, “Holy Water?”

Eric: “Holy Water,” yeah. We’re doing a new record, hopefully in the Spring. We already have about eight, nine new songs. The whole tour we just did with Beach Slang, we’ve been rotating these songs. It’s super exciting. It took us a long time to get the Hardcore Friends project to complete itself and this one’s coming along a lot faster. We worked on it on and off for about ten years. 

AF: Whose hands are on the Hardcore Friends album art? Is that you two?

Eric: It’s ours, it’s Dominic and myself. It’s a fake blood handshake- that’s all corn syrup. We shot that cover in the winter of 2015. We were outside, doing the handshake, and it was… gross. Corn syrup all over your hands is gross, especially when it’s freezing. It wasn’t as glamorous as the shot looks.

AF: Since you and Dominic have been friends and collaborators for so long, what’s your definition of a good friend, or a hardcore friend?

Eric: The title is kind of a pun, because we grew up going to hardcore shows together. We had been through everything two friends could go through in the course of our friendship, and so when it came time to title the record we thought it would be appropriate to not only name the thing Hardcore Friends but to also have a song about the trials and tribulations of our friendship. So yeah, a hardcore friend is someone who’s loyal, somebody who will be there for you until you die.

AF: How was your tour with Beach Slang?

Eric: It was amazing. They were so gracious to take us out. We had an amazing time. Nothing bad happened, except that our heater broke in our van, so we were freezing cold from Michigan all the way to Boston.

Dominic: I had a moment with their record, because I hadn’t listened to it before we went on tour with them, because it wasn’t out yet. And when we got back and did Thanksgiving and put it on I was like, “Holy shit.” Because live, they’re so great, they’re so powerful, but the record is a totally different thing.

AF: And you said the next Lithuania record is coming out in the Spring, right?

Eric: We’re going to start demoing on Monday, and then probably record sometime in the Spring, and then hopefully it’ll come out in 2017. That’s my guess, or the end of 2016. I’m just gonna say it, and put it into existence, so that we get it done. And not wait another ten years before something happens.

AF: Will Ricardo (Lithuania’s touring drummer) be playing on that record?

Eric: Oh yeah. We’re going to fully integrate him. Hardcore Friends is only Dominic and myself, with some added guests here and there. We’re gaining more confidence with Ricardo on drums, and we’re excited to explore that realm. He’s so talented, and generous, musically.

AF: As a drummer, do you give him a lot of direction? Or do you let him do his own thing?

Eric: The whole thing with Ricardo in this band is for me to relinquish my control, and my more obsessive drum tendencies. I’m not going to direct him, I just want him to figure it out for himself. And so far, he’s been intuitive and I love what he does.

AF: Which do you prefer, being behind the drumset or fronting a band?

Eric: Apples and oranges. They’re so different. One offers a direct line of communication with the audience, and one’s a little bit abstract… being back there is kind of weird, sitting down and playing a bunch of weird circles. It’s a pretty abstract concept. But being upfront, you can make eye contact with people, and connect, and it’s just a totally different experience. Not better or worse. Both are great.

AF: You two met at UArts; did you study jazz guitar there?

Dominic: I did, yeah. It’s weird how much I still think about it when I play, even in this band. The stuff you learn sticks around. I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.

Eric: Yeah, I was improvising last night, and it brought me right back to when I used to do it all the time. Or even when I’m playing with Dr. Dog, it comes out.

Dominic: Whenever I see you play with them, I just think about Steely Dan, because you’re just playing sick, seventies Steely Dan stuff. Everyone is doing their thing but you’re just doing this shuffle.

Eric: I do think about Steely Dan a lot, so that’s very astute. I think about Steely Dan way more than I should.

Dominic: As we all do. We’re working on a podcast about Steely Dan.

AF: Just about Steely Dan?

Eric: Yeah, Exclusively. “The Danvinci Code.”

AF: That’s amazing.

Dominic: That’s what we’re going to focus on next year.

AF: Speaking of Dr. Dog, it seems like in recent years- maybe after you toured with The Lumineers- you’ve been playing way bigger venues, like Madison Square Garden, and Terminal 5.

Eric: Yeah. We did Madison Square Garden over the summer, and we’re doing Terminal 5 in March. It’s something I still don’t know how to process. I have no idea how we did it. We’re about to tour, two weeks on, two weeks off for the next couple of months. This year we’re going to have a pretty crazy stage production and do new songs.

AF: Do you think you’d get restless if you weren’t involved in more than one project?

Dominic: I used to feel that way. I used to do three to five projects at once. And then recently, I’ve been really into focusing on one, as long as that thing is active. As soon as it isn’t active I need to do something else. It’s been cool, figuring out how to sustain yourself on only music. It’s a hustle, but it can be really rewarding. 

AF: I’ll wrap this up with one more question: What bands or records are you into right now?

Eric: There’s a band called Palm that I can’t get enough of, and Cass McCombs, we can’t get enough of. He’s where we both meet. Dominic and I completely agree on Cass McCombs. We should do a commercial.

Dominic: Like a 30-second Super Bowl commercial, where you’re the proggy Zappa guy and I’m the beer-rock dude. “We don’t agree on much, but what we do agree on is Cass McCombs.”

Eric: There’s so much music to listen to.

Dominic: There’s a quote, like “I would gladly give up my space in a band if there could only be 100 bands.” And occasionally I’m like, maybe I feel that way.. But I don’t really. I wouldn’t want to stop playing.

 

 

 

 

CMJ 2015: Bands to Hear

CMJ Music Marathon 2015 is here. With an overwhelming abundance of artist to sort through, we made your life easier by providing you with a list of a few can’t-miss bands to hear. Read on.

Cosmo Sheldrake

Cosmo Sheldrake

Rare is the mere mortal who can play more instruments than years they’ve lived. Cosmo Sheldrake is such a human (though I’m convinced some dealings with the devil are at play here). At 25 Sheldrake has scored films, composed music for a series of Samuel Beckett plays, and given a performance at TEDxWhitechapel entitled “Interspecies Collaboration.” Oh, and, you know, he plays over 30 instruments. Piano? Check. Drums? Check? Didgeridoo? Mmhm. Sousaphone, penny whistle, Mongolian throat singing, Tibetan chanting, computer? Yup.

I’m not sure how Sheldrake will get all this gear from London to Piano’s this Tuesday, but I am certain there will be an intriguing performance in store. While Sheldrake’s resume can leave us fearing overwrought and un-listenable prog rock, I can assure you that his sound is nothing short of delightful. His technical ability is matched by a penchant for catchy, beautifully textured songs that venture on the Baroque and folk corners of pop.

Cosmo Sheldrake:

Tuesday 10/13 @Piano’s 5:30pm

 

ezra

Ezra Furman

We’ve sung his praise before, and we’re not finished. The cross-dressing troubadour plays a vigorous set, spits a mean lyric, and looks a hell of a lot better in a frock than I do. Riding on the warm reception of his latest release Perpetual Motion People, Furman will be here by way of London, San Francisco, St. Paul, and lord knows where else. Expect manic folk, mangled vocals, doo-wop croons, punk rock, lipstick and plenty of saxophone. If you long to move this CMJ, but don’t have the taste for late night EDM, I assure you there will be sufficient dancing at the Ezra Furman gig.

If you’re schedule’s pretty full-up, worry not; Ezra is playing four dates next week. Though if I may recommend one above the rest it’s his headlining gig at Knitting Factory, where Juan Waters, Slim Twig and Drinks-among many others-will share the bill. Don’t miss it!

 

Ezra Furman:

Wednesday 10/14 @Knitting Factory 7pm (Juan Waters, Slim Twig, Drinks)

Thursday 10/15 @Rough Trade 4pm

Thursday 10/15 @le Poisson Rouge 10pm

Friday 10/16 @Baby’s All Right 2pm

 

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Sean Nicholas Savage

Where Cosmo Sheldrake can be measured in instruments, Montreal’s Sean Nicholas Savage can be measured in albums. At 29 he’s released 11 studio LPs in a span of eight years. His latest record Other Death surfaced just last month on his Alma Mater Arbutus Records, home to fellow Canadians TOPS, Grimes and Doldrums.

With the guise of a shadier Morrissey, Savage’s music is at peace with sorrow, his signature crooning falsetto wavers over hushed keys and papery drums. His vocal range reaches heights that one might find unlikely from a live performance, but trust me, I’ve seen him pull it off on the spot to an even greater effect than his recordings. He’s a humble, somewhat shy performer, but a captivating one nonetheless. And if it’s charisma you’re looking for, he’s got that in spades.

 

Sean Nicholas Savage:

Thursday 10/15 @Silent Barn 8pm

Friday 10/16 @Arlene’s Grocery 8p

 

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Miya Folick

Resting somewhere between balladeer folk and dream pop, Miya Folick‘s latest EP Strange Darling is nothing short of mesmerizing.  There is a sweet sadness at play here that stabs pretty deep.  It’s a far cry from other music coming out of Los Angeles right now, which is often sun-bleached and relentlessly up-tempo.  Folick’s sound, while beautiful and fragile, is also haunting and morose.  There is an eerie quality to her which sets her apart from the crowd.

If you’re into Cat Power, Beach House, Hope Sandoval, etc, Folick is well worth your time this CMJ.

 

Miya Folick:

Tuesday 10/13 @Cakeshop 9pm

Wednesday 10/14@The Flat 8:15pm

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Phony PPL

If I had to describe Brooklyn’s Phony PPL in one sentence it would read thus: late 70s Stevie Wonder has a hip hop group. I like both of those things. Mixing jazz fusion arrangements, R&B rhythms and rap vocal stylings, Phony PPL’s latest release Yesterday’s Tomorrow is already dotting some year-end lists. You may even remember seeing the boys on Jimmy Kimmel Live in June, standing in as Fetty Wap’s backing band for “Trap Queen.”

It’s not too often you come by a hip hop group that is a proper band. This is no discredit to the genre, which is heavily reliant on brilliant producers and session musicians. But the rarity of Phony PPl’s musical fluency is part of their appeal, aside from being fantastic songwriters, and, let’s face it, adorable.

 

Phony PPL:

Wednesday 10/14 @Arlene’s Grocery 5pm

Friday 10/16 @The Wick 6pm

 

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Hooton Tennis Club

 While the U.K. once spat out its best music draped in a Union Jack, our friends across the pond seem to be peeking at our back catalogue for their latest inspirations. Hooton Tennis Club may be a British Pop band, but they are certainly not a Britpop band. Instead these Wirral four would sit more comfortably next to your Deerhunter and Pavement than your Blur and Suede.

Having just released their debut record The Highest Point in Cliff Town on the reputable Heavenly Recordings, Hooton have been on the tour circuit for quite some time, made an appearance on BBC Radio 6, and were featured in NME’s “New Band of the Week” column. Not bad for four lads from Wirral.

 

Hooton Tennis Club:

Tuesday 10/13 @Rockwood Music Hall Stage 2. 5pm

Wednesday 10/14 @Cakeshop 7pm

 

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Kamasi Washington

You may have not heard of Kamasi Washington, but you’ve probably heard him. He wrote most of the arrangements on this little record called To Pimp a Butterfly by some guy named Kendrick Lamar.

Washington is a man of many talents. A saxophonist and multi-instrumentalist, he has performed and recorded with the likes of Thundercat, Broken Bells, Stanley Clarke and Snoop Dogg. Though his credits as collaborator and contributor finally gave way to a headlining title with the release of his LP The Epic this May. Epic is no understatement-the album clocks in just under three hours and has a transcendent quality to it. This is textured, full-bodied jazz with elements of gospel, funk and soul. What’s not to like?

 


Kamasi Washington:

Thursday 10/15 @BRIC House 7:30pm

Friday 10/16 @Le Poisson Rouge 6:30pm

 

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Landshapes

Another U.K. band (we can’t help ourselves!) Landshapes merge noisy psych rock with pop-punk tempos and infectious melodies.  Originally called Lulu and the Lampshades, a Paris venue misspelled “Lampshades” as “Landshapes” and a new moniker was born.

Signed to the influential Bella Union label, Landshapes just released their second record Heyoon in May and it’s a rip-roaring slice of sound.  There is a bit of the odd in their music for sure as the band’s influences would have us believe.  Take the album’s first single lead single “Moongee,” a song inspired by a tale by 17th century Bishop Francis Godwin.  I hope their live show is as bizarre as their references!

 

Landshapes:

Wednesday 10/14 @Palisades 10pm

Thursday 10/15 @Le Poisson Rouge 9pm

Saturday 10/17 @Rockwood Music Hall Stage 1 7pm

 

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Outfit

Whether it’s Manchester or Sheffield, the North of England seems to have a penchant for churning out great bands. Outfit is no exception. Originally from Liverpool, Outfit are only two albums deep in their catalogue, but quality is shouting louder than quantity in this case. Slowness, their latest LP, is a study in subtlety, drifting between melancholy and melody with a sophisticated ease for such a young band. To me they sound like a drowsy Prefab Sprout, so you can expect masterfully constructed pop songs that verge on the edge of bizarre.

More frequently Outfit is compared to Hot Chip, though I’m not hearing this so much, save for the fact that lead singer Andrew Hunt does sound oddly like Chip’s Alexis Taylor on a couple of tracks. Either way, Outfit is a band worth hearing.

 


Outfit:

Wednesday 10/14 @Passenger Bar 9pm

Saturday 10/17 @Pianos (Upstairs) 8:10pm

 

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Protomartyr

In the broadest of terms, Protomartyr is a punk band from Detroit. Though listening closer you’ll discover a group with far more depth than that description. Piloted by singer/songwriter Joe Casey, Protomartyr exude a dark pensiveness akin to The Minutemen with swaths of aggressive post punk coating discordant melodies – if you can call them melodies.

Despite occupying a genre often bound by obscurity, Protomartyr have a decent following under their belt. Signed to Sub Pop imprint Hardly Art records, the foursome just released their third record The Agent Intellect today. What better way to celebrate their new LP than to catch them live next week?


Protomartyr:

Wednesday 10/14 @Santo’s Party House 11:15pm

Friday 10/16 @Rough Trade 7pm (with Drinks, Mothers, Car Seat Headreast, Modern Vices)

 

ALBUM REVIEW: Destroyer “Poison Season”

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“You could follow a rose wherever it grows/You could fall in love in Times Square,” Dan Bejar, aka Destroyer sings on the track “Times Square.” His latest album, Poison Season, constantly references itself, both musically and lyrically, but matter where one track takes you, another always leads you back to perhaps the most well-known area of New York City, Times Square; The record has three songs that include it in their title. Most New Yorkers may associate the area with crowded trains and annoying tourists more than love, but Bejar somehow makes it seem romantic and sentimental.

Called “Rock’s Exiled King” by The Fader, this is the tenth studio album by Bejar, who also plays in The New Pornographers, but strays far from the indie rock genre in his solo project.  Though Poison Season may seem like a harsh name for an album, it’s not reflected in the music. Songs are filled with sweeping (but never too sappy) strings and loose jazz saxophone. The whole album has a late-night/early dawn feel to it, recalling the 4AM epiphanies you get when you’re still clinging to your last bit of consciousness. This is especially true on the track “Dream Lover,” where he borrows the line “Here comes the sun.” But this isn’t the hopeful, cheery sun from the Beatles’ song- this sun is an interruption, signaling the end the night with a does of reality: “Oh shit, here comes the sun/Lovers on the run,” Bejar laments after an evening where “Haunted starlight gets in your eyes.” Euphoric, chaotic saxophone and a driving beat make it one of the album’s best tracks.

On “Bangkok,” the saxophones are joined by piano, giving the song the feeling of an after-hours jazz lounge. And on “Hell,” the bouncy beat begs you to snap along even as Bejar insists “It’s hell down here, it’s hell”(He also slips in a somewhat political line with “Every murderer voted out of office is sold down the river,” though he follows it up with something purely romantic).

Bejar’s voice has a whispery, spoken-word feel to it, and even during quieter moments, it’s easy to want to give his words your full attention. There are some serious moments on the album, but Bejar’s sense of humor manages to shine through. He uses the line “Bring out your dead,” which could possibly (I’d like to think this, anyway) be a nod to the Monty Python comedy The Holy Grail. And while the music video for “Girl In A Sling” is a beautiful, simple film where Bejar develops old photo negatives in what appears to be a childhood house, the video for “Times Square” is a light-hearted stop motion animation. Mossy creatures get high off of pipes and joints, a tree stump hunts for mushrooms, and a cartoon brain crawls along the forest floor.

This is definitely not the Times Square that exists at West 42nd Street and 7th Avenue, but it’s the Times Square that should.

Poison Season is out on August 28 via Merge Records. Check out the track “Dream Lover” below.

 

ARTIST OF THE MONTH: Deradoorian

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In an industry where countless musicians toil night and day to develop a specific sound, that thing that will set them apart from the pack and place them in a category all their own floats up Angel Deradoorian, the self-identified lepidopteran vocalist, songwriter and multi-instrumental artist.

Deradoorian, as she’s mononymously known, was a longtime member of the indie-rock cult darlings Dirty Projectors. And her vocals have such a unique quality that immediately evoke the ethereal memory of that infamous project. Only here on her debut solo LP, The Expanding Flower Planet, there is an intimacy breathed into the tracks that promises sincerity, genuine hope and connection. Deradoorian has poured herself into the album in such a way that her being is indistinguishable from the music. Listening to the album all the way through is an exciting and spiritually-laced journey you take with her guiding you down the path of her creation.

We reviewed her debut album at length earlier this week, and on the heels of it’s release I caught up with her to pick her brain on a bit about her story in music.

AF: What prompted your move to a solo project?

D: I’ve had a solo project since I was about 17 years old, but didn’t deeply focus on it. It was either doing another album cycle with Dirty Projectors or hunkering down to work on my own stuff. The timing seemed right for me to take a break from the band to explore my own work.

AF: What experiences in your career to date are you bringing to The Expanding Flower Planet?

D: All my musical experience since childhood.

AF: Where else did you draw inspiration for the album?

D: I draw inspiration from everywhere. Visual art, nature, music, my friends.

AF: Can you describe a bit your process in the creation and evolution of a song.

D: Each song is created in its own way. Written on different instruments and pieced together, some are written on just one instrument.

AF: Does the album read as one compelling piece or is it a series of vignettes?

D: I’d see it more as vignettes, but with a thread binding them together.

AF: What aspect of the album release are you most excited for?

D: For the music to be public and to be heard.

AF: How would you define the music mood of the moment?

D: I live in Los Angeles right now. The mood of music seems pretty broad to me right now. I feel there is a lot of crossover in genres and between independent and major sounding music. Seems like a time of fusion.

AF: Are there any other projects that you are really digging right now?

D: I’ve been enjoying the Badbadnotgood/Ghostface album.

AF: What’s your current jam?

D: Allen Toussaint, “From A Whisper To A Scream”.

AF: What else can we expect from you in the months to come?

D: Tour tour tour.

https://soundcloud.com/anticon/deradoorian-komodo

 

Deradoorian Tour Dates

Aug 28 – Queens, NY – Trans Pecos (Record Release Show)

Sep 11 – Brooklyn, NY – Baby’s All Right #

Sep 12 – Richmond, VA – The Camel #

Sep 13 – Carrboro, NC – Cat’s Cradle Back Room #

Sep 14 – Atlanta, GA – Drunken Unicorn #

Sep 15 – Tallahassee, FL – Club Downunder #

Sep 17 – Austin, TX – Holy Mountain #

Sep 18 – Dallas, TX – Three Links #

Sep 20 – Albuquerque, NM – Sister #

Sep 21 – Phoenix, AZ – Crescent Ballroom #%

Sep 22 – Los Angeles, CA – The Echo #

Sep 23 – San Francisco, CA – Brick & Mortar Music Hall #

Sep 25 – Portland, OR – Doug Fir Lounge #

Sep 26 – Seattle, WA – The Vera Project #

Sep 29 – Minneapolis, MN – Icehouse #

Sep 30 – Chicago, IL – Schuba’s #

Oct 01 – Detroit, MI – Museum of Contemporary Art Detroit #

Oct 03 – Philadelphia, PA – Johnny Brenda’s #

 

# with Laetitia Sadier

% with Destroyer

 

FESTIVAL REVIEW: Newport Folk Fest ’15 Day 3

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Photo by Mery Cheung
Photo by Mery Cheung

Sunday morning begins with Nathaniel Rateliff and the Night Sweats giving a sermon that shakes loose the demons. We are knee deep in the Holy Spirit as our fingertips fly towards the overcast sky. Rateliff is nothing if not a proper showman, a blackjack dealer with dust in his beard and oil on his heels. On this good green earth his athletic gusto can only be rivaled by Miss Sharon Jones. We are in the presence of a beast who has learned our mannerisms.

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Photo by Mery Cheung
Photo by Mery Cheung

Later we hear the ancient wisdom of Field Report, and wander through their dream stables. One of the girls in First Aid Kit has lost her voice, so their slack jawed goddess blues sound just that much more lonesome. We place our toes in the water and trade secret fears. Hounded by egrets and with pirate flags at bay, we make moves for Shakey Graves.

The fort walls resound with thunder just the way we like. We draw campfire close to hear the truths and schemes of a man whose very name inspires drama, the man behind Shakey Graves, Alejandro Rose-Garcia. This brand of grit grunge is out to draw blood and sighs in all the right places. We quake with fury, no longer sure of foot. We want to tear down the houses and the things within them, leave no shelf unturned, set fire to the doors. This is sure to bother the neighbors.

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Photo by Mery Cheung
Photo by Mery Cheung

In a few hours, after the water taxi, the shuttle, the cab, three buses, and two trains we’ll fall into the open arms of our little trash heap of a town; we’ll take special care not to wash the sea salt from our skin. Our toes will grasp at familiar roads. People will seem to recognize us. But for today we are panting with abandon and must wear hats to keep the sun from our eyes.[/fusion_builder_column][/fusion_builder_row][/fusion_builder_container]

ALBUM REVIEW: Bitter’s Kiss “Self-Titled”

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Chloe Baker is a young, yet courageous artist, who isn’t afraid to say what other girls are thinking. Although she may appear to be in her innocent and naive youth (namely, still in high school), her self-titled release delivers a different persona. The album is an eight track anecdote twisting through her experiences and thoughts, but with a mature perspective. Baker, with the help of her musically brilliant father, Michael Baker, are Bitter’s Kiss: a local and favorite in Northern New Jersey.
The album starts off with the title track, her voice melodically high, pure, and polished. Her voice is classic and somewhat somber. “Love Won’t Make You Cry,” is prettily melancholy, invoking similar emotions once felt with Death Cab For Cutie’s, Plans. She released a video for “The Rope” which is just as twisted as growing up: “Do your angels keep you waiting? How much longer can you cope? There’s a quicker way to Heaven, if you can find yourself a rope.” She’s exposing the impenetrable issues of teenage depression and suicide—something that we can all say we have seen, if not been affected by. Her album isn’t all heartaches and dilemmas, although Baker can make rejection seem like a graceful way of learning. Michael Baker is an alluring guitar player, and “Lovin’ Life” shows he could put together a harmonious, electronic track as well. “Too Far Too Fast” shows she has not totally abandoned the sense of hope. “You’re gonna find out who you are, you might be a star,” she sings.
I hope for Bitter’s Kiss to thrive in the impending future, as more empowerment is needed for other young girls. I’m sure as she grows into adulthood, the music will follow.
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INTERVIEW: Sam Owens

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Celestial Shore is a Brooklyn trio that cites bands like the Zombies and the Pixies as influences, but whose sound has never been anything but their own- spacey, floaty, always-shifting rock. When we talked to the band’s guitarist/vocalist, Sam Owens, they were preparing to book it to Austin for SXSW. We chatted about the early and last days of Glasslands, the drawbacks of email, and the time Deerhoof insisted on opening for Celestial Shore in a Syracuse basement.

AF: I really liked Enter Ghost as an album name. What inspired that?

SO: It happened one night when I was in Brooklyn, and I was driving in a cab through all these parts of town, going back to my apartment in Ridgewood. I was thinking about how all the corners I was passing- I was with my girlfriend, Cassandra, and it was very late one night- and we were thinking about how we were driving through all these areas that we had inhabited, or had moments in, and how they were kinda like ghosts. And also, it’s from when Hamlet’s father, when he enters- he’s dead- anytime he enters the stage, it says “Enter Ghost.” He always like, proclaims this evil, revenge plot that Hamlet gets obsessed with, so I kinda thought that was interesting too.

AF: Is Celestial Shore planning any new albums?

SO: Definitely. We’re going to SXSW in March, and then immediately after that I think we’ll record a third album. We’ve been writing and getting songs together, and we’ll test them out on our tour, then just hopefully jump right into the studio in April or May.

AF: Who are you touring with?

SO: For the first four shows we’re playing with Rubblebucket. They’re funny, and I’ve known them for a  long time. It’s a new crowd for us, so that’ll be fun.

AF: You played one of Glasslands’s final shows. How do you think the closing of that venue, and others like Death By Audio and Goodbye Blue Monday, have affected our local music scene?

SO: Oh man, that’s a big question. I had a “so be it” attitude about Vice buying up that corner, and Glasslands going away, and 285 Kent going away, and everything going away. I was driving down Kent avenue two weeks ago and basically, every area of this place, in NYC, in Brooklyn, is going to be void of any young, spirited, artistic culture. Forever. Which is terrible. Despite its irregularity, Glasslands- and Death By Audio- all these places were huge for so many people. I slept in a couch in the back of Glasslands the first couple of weeks I moved to New York, and my band had a practice space there, and [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 owners] Jake and Rami are really sweet. It’s sad to see them go, but it’s also the way things go. The sad thing is that what’s there now is going to be void of anything valuable except for financial, corporate interests. Which is a very small example of what’s happening in the whole country. This subject totally barrels out of control and anyone who talks about it for more than five minutes sounds like a huge asshole. (Laughs) Ultimately, I feel really sad about it.

I guess the reason I moved to New York is that I put out the first Bandcamp EP in 2011, and I got an email six hours later from these guys in London that said, “Hey, we want to put out your record” and my mind was totally blown. Then Jake and Rami emailed me, “Hey, we want to book a show in New York,” and I was like, but I don’t even live in New York yet- I guess I should move. So… I moved to New York, because we had a show on August 3rd, 2011 at Glasslands. Now I feel old.

AF: Can I ask how old you are?

SO: I’m 25.

AF: Yeah, that’s not old.

SO: No wait- did I tell you I’m 25? I’m totally 26. Holy shit. Yeah, I am old.

AF: You must be, since you’re starting to forget things!

SO: That’s from smoking too much pot in college.

AF: Yeah, that’ll do it…

SO: I can’t tell you how much I appreciate a phone call versus another-

AF: Email?

SO: Email thing. Cuz you know, your PR person sets up these interviews, so you get an email from someone you’ve never met with these really basic questions: “How did Celestial Shore meet? Why do you guys play music? Tell us about your sound.” Why I appreciate of course, the idea of being interviewed in the first place, which is a crazy, strange idea, I think a phone call is way cooler.

AF: You probably sound way different now than you would in an email.

SO: I could be the worst person in the world on an email. Because maybe, I was writing it on my cellphone in the subway with my thumbs. I’m so tired of emailing. Ready for my rant? My life goal, as a human being on earth- and this is going to make me sound like a huge asshole, but I don’t care- is to get a landline, and never have a cellphone, and to not be accountable on my email account. It’s incredible how accountable we’re expected to be throughout the day. If you don’t respond, then you’re the worst person ever.

You read all these great accounts… Lou Reed wrote a song about it- I mean I guess he was waiting for his drug dealer- his frustration about waiting for someone. I think it’s way more mystical, and magical, and sweet and romantic if you can just make a plan and try to do it. That’s my rant. Everyone’s email tone has become so camouflaged… Everybody is like a chameleon. Including myself.

AF: I’m glad I got you on the phone then, so I’m interviewing the real Sam.

SO: Yeah, maybe. Totally. I don’t know, I’m feeling pretty nostalgic tonight.

AF: What’s your source for finding new music?

SO: My source would be my friends, and the people I admire. I’ve been doing this thing with a couple of close friends where you just write down 30 artists, or songs, or videos, any kind of content you want to share. Not a link, just the name or whatever, on a sticky note. Then you have 30 of these sticky notes, and you give them to your friends. It’s really neat, because you have this physical thing that you can put next to your bed, and wake up in the morning and be like “Oh, yeah, I haven’t checked him out.”

I’ve been listening a lot to country music from the 1950’s, particularly Ernest Tubb. I keep coming back to it. I’m in one of those full circle periods, where I’m going back to 50’s country. The Carter Family, Johnny Cash, all these people. Ernest Tubb, yeah. Listen to his song “Thanks A Lot.”

Also, I’ve been mixing a lot of records, so I end up listening to the records I’m mixing a lot, out of necessity. I’m mixing an old time band right now. The week before that I was mixing this band called Friend Roulette. They’re from Brooklyn and they’re like, chamber pop. My ears are kind of all over the place.

AF: This is a typical interview question you’ve probably heard before, but—

SO: “How did your band meet?”

AF: Do you have a favorite venue to play at?

SO: You’ll have to let me think about this one for a minute… Can I tell you my favorite show I’ve ever played?

AF: Yeah, that’s a way better question.

SO: OK. So in April, we were fortunate enough to go on tour with Deerhoof, and they’re really dear to me. (Laughs) Oops. I’m not into puns, that much… I can’t say enough about Deerhoof, they totally changed the way I think about music. We had a day off, and this kid- his name is Phil Steiger, and he was going to school at Syracuse University at the time- had contacted us about playing a show in his basement. And we were like “Yeah, of course.” We were having Thai food with Deerhoof in Pittsburgh, and they were like, “Hey, what are you doing with your day off?” And I was just like, “We’re playing a show tomorrow.” And they were like, “Oh, Where’s the show?” And I said, “It’s in a basement in Syracuse. Do you guys want to play?” and they were like, “Yeah. We’ll talk about it and let you know tomorrow.”  So we were driving and I get a call from John, and he was like, “Yeah, so we’re down to play the show with you. We’ll play as long as we can open for you.” Because we’d been opening for them every night. Which was, surreal and hilarious. That’s Deerhoof. So I called this kid Phil and I was like, “Phil. Deerhoof’s coming with us. They’re going to play. They’re going to open for Celestial Shore.”

Phil’s a film student, by the way, and has since moved to L.A. and will shortly be premiering the video he made for us.

And then I fell asleep on the floor of the basement, Satomi ran off to find a tire swing, John was playing soccer in the street, it was such as wholesome experience. And since then, Deerhoof has told me that they mixed their last album with that concert experience in mind…I think it drummed up some old feelings of DIY shows they used to do. So anyway, that’s my favorite experience. So far.

AF: So far.

SO: Yeah.

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LIVE REVIEW: Slim Twig + U.S. Girls @ Cake Shop

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Photo by Meg Remy
Photo by Meg Remy

All I want is a hot toddy, but the more patient half of me says now’s not the time to order one. Despite my polite efforts and hacking cough, something of greater urgency than a breathing statistic of flu season needs tending to.

The bartender zips along the length of the counter clamping a cordless phone between her ear and shoulder. Her bar back frantically cleans tumblers and disappears periodically. Meanwhile Max Turnbull and his wife Meghan Remy (aka Slim Twig and his wife U.S. Girls) are schlepping amplifiers through the front door of Cake Shop 20 minutes after opener Ryan Sambol-who is sitting right next to me-is supposed to start.

It’s been a rough night for everyone.

Things settle down. The bar is calm. I have booze; the warm, honey and lemon accessorized kind that allows you to be a lush and say “this is good for me!” at the same time.

I am now wedged between a Tinder date and a semi-bilingual French-lesson date (how you say, Tinder?) taking notes in my journal, which I’m sure doesn’t look odd at all. I might as well be chiseling a stone tablet and wearing badger fur.

Collecting cash and stamping hands for the evening is Cake Shop co-owner Andy Bodor, perched on a stool by the venue door. Ryan Sambol emerges from downstairs, despondently shaking his head:

“You know what man, I don’t even wanna play tonight.”

Bodor looks shattered.

“What do you mean???”

“Y’know, it’s just, I come all the way from Texas and I just don’t think….”

I realize that though the dust from earlier has settled, a whole new sandstorm is about to kick up; and then Sambol cracks a smile.

“I’m just kidding!!!” Bodor sighs: “Jesus man, you really got me there.”

Two warm alcohols deep I make my way to the show space. I’m met by a hush crowd politely watching the tricky Texan. It’s not easy to captivate audiences these days, and it’s even harder to do so with such modest and arcane things like a guitar and microphone, but Sambol seems to have this covered. It doesn’t hurt that he’s a good lookin’ boy from the Lone Star State with a voice like Nashville Skyline era Dylan.

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His stage presence reminds me of a less-tortured Jeff Buckley…a more lighthearted, plucky Buckley, if you will.  Buckleyness aside, Sambol’s ability to work a room makes sense: he’s been in the biz for over a decade. He helped form The Strange Boys as an eighth grader and subsequently toured with everyone from Julian Casablancas to Spoon. After Strange Boys dissolved in 2012, Sambol and co. reemerged as Living Grateful releasing two LPs in 2014.  I’ve yet to find anything about a forthcoming solo record from Sambol, but if one ever surfaces it will probably sound like his live set: sweet, melty and melancholy.

Sambol played a mix of originals as well as a few covers, announcing them with familial ease: “You can thank Sly Stone for that one.” And I guess we can thank Mr. Sambol for coming all the way from Texas and playing after all.

During the set, I couldn’t help but notice Meg Remy and Max Turnbull at the end of the bar. It made me wonder if it’s difficult to tour with your spouse. Do you bicker over who’s headlining? Take turns on merch table duty? Get jealous when your better half’s record sells more copies than yours? I guess it depends, but judging by the highly collaborative artistic relationship Remy and Turnbull have had, they seem pretty supportive. They lugged the gear together, and played integral roles in each other’s performances for the night.

U.S. Girls was up next. For those unfamiliar with Remy’s music, it is paradoxical in many ways. She goes by a plural, so you’d expect a full band, or at the very least a duo. You wouldn’t guess it was just her by listening to GEM, her FATCAT release from 2012, which is full-bodied, textural and pleasantly schizophrenic.

The self-sufficient musical project is far more achievable these days given the ease of home recording and distribution, but it does make for an interesting dilemma; how does one perform live?  According to Meg Remy: with a Moog and a microphone

It doesn’t sound great on paper, but it’s difficult to describe someone like Remy, who might be made of charisma. A bit dazed while performing, she is focused and calculated. Her body language and voice seem siphoned straight from the 1960s, and I wonder if she really is in trance-watching a mirage of Nancy Sinatra at the back of the room and mirroring her every shimmy.

An equally enigmatic musician, Max Turnbull recorded his sinister pop-opera A Hound at the Hem all the way back in 2010 as a contract fulfillment to Paper Bag records. Unfortunately Paper Bag deemed it too weird, causing Turnbull to shelve the LP and record Sof’ Sike instead.  Hound did have a limited co-release via Pleasance Records and Remy/Turnbull’s own imprint Calico Corp, but it was reissued last year thanks to New York’s own DFA records. DFA saw the album’s brilliance and pressed 600 copies-100 of them on Pepto Bismol pink vinyl.

Hound is a complex and beautiful record. It’s been called chamber pop, psych rock and garnered many other comparisons.  As an impulse evaluation I’d say there are heavy notes of Nick Cave and Van Dyke Parks throughout.

If you didn’t know the chronology of Hound’s lifespan, you might be surprised to see Slim Twig live.  On the album’s sleeve is a clean-shaven kid with a pompadour. Behind the microphone at Cake Shop was a mustached matchstick with long tangled hair. Ever evolving, Turnbull’s look wasn’t the only thing drastically different from his Hound days.  His set didn’t include any songs from the album, which I must admit bummed me out a little.

That’s not to say the music wasn’t exciting and well played, but it was much more straight-forward seventies rock n’ roll- a far cry from the bizzarro orchestra of Hound.  That being said, I can sympathize with a musician not wanting to play songs written five years ago.

Slim Twig’s set was both humble and satirically contradictory. “This song’s about not fetishizing the past” was an intro that struck me as aggressively ironic, since fetishizing the past is what millennials, including myself-are best at.

Though the set was more melodic than I’d expected, there was no shortage of precision and energy.  And fortunately, any deficit of strangeness was made up for by the little eccentricities that can only be experienced at a live show.  While introducing one song Turnbull curtly quipped: “This song is about Jesus Christ.”  To my left a middle-aged Hasidic man clapped and cheered in his seat, occasionally using his cocktail straw as a conductor’s wand; other times bringing it to his lips to take a long drag.

I guess the night was a success after all.

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EP REVIEW: Anne-Simone “Bittersweet”

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What goes into the making of a single song? Aside from writing the lyrics and instrumentals, you have to record-mix-edit every second of each recording. Mixing software and code are all things foreign to me. What if there was somehow to see the code in a way that we could understand and actually appreciate? Anne-Simone has brought together both worlds of song making.
Seattle-based and self-proclaimed citizen of the world, Anne-Simone is a positive indie-pop genius.
Genius because the lyrics in her new single “Digitize Me,” compose a computer program. She explains,”This song has a twist. The lyrics make up a running computer program…I was pondering on this well-known quote, ‘programs must be written for people to read, and only incidentally for machines to execute,’ and went ahead and applied it quite literally!” For those that wonder why would she go through the trouble (other than discovering a super unique way to build a song), she’s also a software creator. You can check out the code here.
Anne-Simone’s six-track EP Bittersweet is set to release January 11th. It’s a short dip into her harmonious world. And although she insists that her cup is half-full always, her songs sound hazy. I found her to be admittedly melancholy, like in “Gone So Long” where she showed a more vulnerable self aside from her usual quirkiness in “Digitize Me.” Her lyrics in “Let the Heart,” make her seem to question a critical lover: “I am not a freak, not just a geek. I am not the flavor of the week.” Her song-writing skills shine in the bridge, featuring bongos and what sounds like a jungle theme, she can be super fun even if she’s feeling wistful. And then there’s “Bittersweet,” a ballad constructed with piano and her recurring dismal yet hopeful thoughts. “Fire Rainbow” might flow like the other tracks but contains extra elements with her use of imagery, “…came into my life like summer rain.” “Unsaid” was my favorite track on her new EP; although all her tracks were peaceful and friendly, this one really flowed benignly through me.
It would seem that Anne-Simone has it all figured out. She prides herself in being upbeat, optimistic, and poised. While all that may be true, her new EP mirrored a different side of her- a little dim, sometimes blue. She may be a software creator but not everything is as uniformed as binary numbers; Bittersweet proves that life is more complex.
Whether you will be hanging around the Northwest or not, you can check out her dancing to “Digitize Me” in what looks like the inside of a computer chip.

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BEST OF 2014 ALBUMS: Kelly’s Picks

lana-del-rey-14032160071. Lana Del Rey – Ultraviolence
I’ve been on the Lana Del Rey bandwagon ever since I heard “Dark Paradise” (we’re all just pretending that her second album, Paradise, never happened, right?). Lana delivers all of the slow-burn goodness found in Born to Die and that fans expect from a follow up. She kicks things up a notch with tracks like “Money Power Glory” “Florida Kilos” and “Fucked My Way Up To the Top” but keeps her dreamy California cool reputation with songs like “West Coast,” “Cruel World” and “Shades of Cool.” It’s the perfect combination of what we loved about Lana, but matured and honed to perfection.

 

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2. Tennis – Ritual in Repeat
In 2013, Tennis released an EP called Small Sounds, which was so good that I couldn’t wait until they released the next full album. In September, they finally obliged, and it was worth the wait. In the last few years, the band has taken themselves from a fun, 80’s girl vibe heard in Cape Dory and honed Alaina Moore’s voice to make an even bigger impression, first on Young and Old and now in Ritual in Repeat. They’ve only gotten better over time, and Ritual in Repeat is the most enjoyable album yet. The catchy and upbeat “Never Work for Free” and “Viv Without the N” pair perfectly with the hopeful “Bad Girls” and “Solar on the Rise” to form a complete, solid album.

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3. Bombay Bicycle Club – So Long, See You Tomorrow
Bombay Bicycle Club has always been a fun rock band, but So Long, See You Tomorrow cemented them as seriously fun (and seriously good) alternative rockers. The standout track is “Home By Now,” which pairs Lucy Rose and lead singer Jack Steadman for a R&B duet, closely followed by “It’s Alright Now,” “Carry Me” “Whenever, Wherever,” and “Luna.” It’s difficult to even pick out a non-catchy track among the listing—a well-rounded, enjoyable collection.

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4. Mothxr – Various singles
OK, so this isn’t actually an album. But in interviews, the band has said they don’t plan on releasing an album, but rather release singles whenever they feel like it and I’m obsessed with the four they’ve given us this year so they belong on this list. I fell in love with them during a CMJ 2014 performance and can’t stop talking about them now. Frontman Penn Badgley (yes from Gossip Girl) leads a funky, jazzy, sexy soulful band. During their live shows, Penn grooves along to the music, and it’s hard not to do the same when listening.

 

 

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5. Lykke Li – I Never Learn
An embarrassing confession: I first heard of Lykke Li from the Twilight: New Moon soundtrack. But thank goodness I did because even though that franchise was a disaster, I was introduced to such a great musician. It had been nearly four years since Lykke gave us Wounded Rhymes, and she didn’t disappoint with a follow up in I Never Learn. The album is definitely an extension of her signature haunting croon, and even feels a bit darker and more melancholy than her previous work. Even though it was released in May, I recently discovered it’s a great album to listen to on dreary winter commutes into the city.

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6. Sharon Van Etten – Are We There
Are there more depressing song titles than “Your Love is Killing Me,” “I Love You But I’m Lost” or “Nothing Will Change”? I doubt it. But Sharon Van Etten makes the depression feel so good—probably because most of us can relate in some way to the mournfulness she projects. And her voice itself doesn’t hurt. A full, sometimes breathy voice gets into our heads and refuses to leave. Luckily, we don’t want it to.

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7. Banoffee – EP
While not a full-length album, the EP itself has me excited enough for whenever they’ll make their debut. I sadly missed their CMJ performances in October, but I’ll catch them another year because I’m sure Aussie Martha Brown is going to be killing it for a while. The synthetic beats on the tracks combine with R&B melodies and her dreamy vocals to create a fun, funky jam.

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8. Sylvan Esso – Sylvan Esso
I first saw Sylvan Esso when they opened for Volcano Choir in 2013. While they performed, I realized that they sounded good, but I was a bit thrown off that a group so focused on synth loops would be paired with Volcano Choir. Given more time to reflect, it makes sense to me now. Their debut album has been topping the charts for best of 2014 lists, and it’s clear to see why. Those synth loops are catchy, as are Amelia Meath’s sweet vocals.

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9. St. Vincent – St. Vincent
It’s not surprising the St. Vincent turned out a stellar album this year—Annie Clark has been making them for a while now. I admit to being a little wary of “Birth in Reverse” when it first premiered, but I’ve since come around, and enjoy it just as much as the rest of the album. It’s guitar heavy and sounds like futuristic robots should be performing it. I mean that in the best way.

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10. The Antlers – Familiars
The Antlers came back this year bringing their signature moaning vocals and smooth, swelling beats. The Antlers has always been one of my favorite artists to belt out while driving at night, and I’ll probably test that out with this album next time I get the chance. Peter Silberman’s voice is a kind of lonely moaning that is best projected when you’re by yourself.

ALBUM REVIEW: Weyes Blood “The Innocents”

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Just now, I googled “1960s witchy psychedelic folk,” grasping, I guess, for a manageable term that encapsulates both Nico’s glamourous theatrics and Brigitte Fontaine’s quirky darkness. I’m sitting at a table in the pool-house out back of a big and beautiful summer home on the coast of Maine, where I’ve been hired as a kind of temporary live-in servant. I shit you not. I’ve got a view of the Atlantic from nearly point blank range, and the moon is new, and all things witchy seem more than possible tonight.

Natural beauty this acute makes any little thing that sticks out of the landscape seem intentionally sinister, like the pale pink dismembered crab torso I saw ripped open and splayed out on a rock while I was on the beach this evening waiting for the moon to rise. The music of Weyes Blood, whose earth name is Natalie Mering, is sort of like that–so beautiful that its oddness makes that beauty spooky, and so strange that its classical loveliness gleams even brighter.

Mering has been under the radar for a couple of years, but that doesn’t mean she’s stayed quiet. After a stint with experimental psych folk outfit Jackie-O Motherfucker, she sang backup vocals for Ariel Pink, and has since performed prodigiously as a solo artist – touring, appearing at festivals, and playing shows of her own with friends like Quilt and The Entrance Band‘s Guy Blakeslee.

In 2011, Mering released The Outside Room, her debut under the Weyes Blood name, on Not Not Fun. Already then, her basic toolkit (haunting vocals, ancient-sounding folk music) was essentially intact, although The Innocents reveals some significant updates. Less funereal but more complicated, Weyes Blood substitutes her first album’s foundation of abject misery for one of classical–even courtly–dignity. Harmonizing against herself, Mering’s vocals take on an entirely new, much richer quality on The Innocents, almost like putting on 3D glasses. But that isn’t to say that melancholy has no place on the album: when Weyes Blood tells you, in the middle of the strange, sad, choral “Some Winters” that “I’m as broken as woman can be,” you believe her. That’s the kind of voice she’s got, low and regal and primed for heartbreak. The finery of that song has a cracked-china feel to it, stemming from its psychedelic tendencies. Static and interference marr dreamy piano arpeggios. The angelic chorus of ahhs hovering around Mering’s tortured alto like a halo slowly melts into a mechanized humming that sounds like the low buzz of an airplane engine. When the song has sentimental moments, something cold and sterile always follows.

If, like me, you’re listening to Weyes Blood someplace wild and desolate, The Innocents intensifies things. It is sparse and spooky. It makes it easy to suspend your disbelief and get swept along with Mering’s moonlit, forlorn reality.

The Innocents won’t be out in the U.S. until Oct 21st, but you can pre-order your physical or digital copy by heading on over to Mexican Summer. In the meantime, check out “Hang On,” the album’s power-driven first single. “I will hang on when the rains come and wash away all I’ve come from,” Mering sings, holding the melody steady as the rest of the song careens through chord progressions and time signatures.   The song is sturdy at its core, her voice a pillar of strength in the center of an embellished, rhythmically complex track. She plays Baby’s All Right in Brooklyn on Friday, August 22nd.

INTERVIEW: Zach + Bridget

 

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There’s an almost tangible magic surrounding two people in love, and when that beautiful, romantic energy comes together with music the result can be stunning. Zach Galanis and Bridget Schack have been creating captivating songs as a couple for years and are now looking forward to tying the knot later this year. As a duet they are relatively new to the scene but have been performing together for years. Bridget’s exquisite vocals and Zach’s musical expertise layer together to create folksy melodies that are hard to match. They perform all around Los Angeles and along the West Coast, seeking out the most intimate venues – including people’s homes! – to stay true to the rustic nature of their music. I had the pleasure of sitting down with the couple to chat about their journey as a couple making music together and what their future will hold.

Audiofemme: Where’d you meet?

Zach Galanis: We met at Azusa Pacific. I had come out to go to graduate school in music and seminary and she was finishing her undergrad in vocal performance. Literally the first day I was out here I met her singing in choir. Pretty much everyone we do music with I met that day. It was a big day.

Bridget Schack: A big day in the life of Zach Galanis. How long ago was that?

Z: That was 6 years ago.

B: It was the fall of 2007.

Z: Holy shit, it’s been 7 years? It’s been almost a decade, oh my god.

B: For sure it’s been 7 years, it’s August.

Z: We’ve been doing this for 7 years? You’re supposed to be professional at something after you do it for 10. Are we going to be that way in 3?

B: Yes.

AF: When did you first realize that you should play together?

Z: I had come out here and I was studying seminary which fell to the wayside big time just because I just became a lot less certain on what I believe religiously.

B: The masters degree that you were pursuing was half theology and half music worship. It was this new program that they had developed.

Z: I think that a lot of my writing had been influenced by theology so in my mind it was a safe way to come to California, to study theology in music. We had met and first started doing music together because I was playing coffee shop gigs. They had practice rooms at the school we went to and I was basically asking people if they wanted to come and play these shows.

B: You started doing music with Amy the violist first so it was just the 2 of them, and we were just friends. I had a crush on him so I was trying to feel it out but he was very focused on music so we were just friends. Him and Amy would do music together and I would go see their shows and stuff. I was the one who pursued him to sing with him. I went up to him and said ‘I want to sing with you and I’m really great at harmony. So I’m gonna sing with you.’

Z: In choir she was one of the best singers, if not the best, and I could hardly hit pitches. So I was really surprised she wanted to sing with us. Eventually I found out she didn’t really care – at first she just wanted to get in my pants!

AF: You started off playing with a full band. How long ago did you split with them and what was behind that decision?

Z: We did the last album with the band and the drummer we were working with had a lot of success, that was in 2012. It just wasn’t jiving and we got a much better response when it was just the two of us. We had been having a lot of problems trying to keep the band together so we thought, why don’t we just do us?

B: Logistically it just made sense – easier to practice and schedule and play shows. Sometimes we would have shows that could be booked but if one of five of us couldn’t make it then we’d have to forfeit the spot.

Z: And we were using guys that were really good so they were busy. It’d always be such a thing to get a show together. Which is why bands that grow up together or that can pay musicians usually do well.

AF: What is your song writing process like?

Z: That’s sort of been my wheelhouse at this point. I’m always trying to figure out a better way. Recently I just heard Tom Waits say, that was of course genius… something like, “Waiting for a good song is like hunting – for the better song, you have to wait and be more patient and quiet.” Sometimes I feel like we have to do a voodoo dance because no song comes the same way twice. I try to write every day. I try to read a lot of the lyrics of bands that I’m really inspired by. In the beginning I would sort of form and fashion the skeleton of a song and bring it to the band, then we’d work on it and put body to the ideas. With the new process as we’ve been doing more of these new songs, because it’s a duet, and it’s not just my name, I feel like she should be in the beginning process of writing.

B: We’re transitioning into that.

Z: We’re trying to figure out our process, how we sit down and come up with ideas and stuff. Inspirationally though, most of our stories come from people we’ve met, events and each other and up until now most of the song content has been about other people. It’s easier to write about someone else’s problem and project it onto ourselves but this newer stuff seems to be more personal. It’s the two of us, which is weird. That wasn’t overt, it just sort of happened.

AF: Do you think turning your music inward more has caused your sound to improve?

Z: Yeah for sure! I don’t feel like I’ve been a musician that could be agile to do a lot of different things. I sort of have to deal with what I have – my voice in some ways is limited. Sometimes I’m not a fan, at first, of the music that comes out of me so I look to other people to sort of carve it out to make it what I want. But I feel like you need to write what comes out of you or else it’s insincere and people can feel that.

B: I would say you’ve always been an honest, sincere writer but your first stuff was a little bit more removed. You would tell stories that were more universal truths and not super personal. But with this new stuff coming out, I think emotionally for Zach, to be able to connect more and be a bit more honest and vulnerable in performance has been helpful for both of us.

Z: Traditionally it’s always been that I was the writer and she’s been the performer so we’re melding into each other’s world, I guess.

AF: What’s your best music-related memory?

Z: Performance-wise was playing at the state fair with my punk rock band, that was amazing. We were playing next to the world’s largest pig. I was wearing a hoodie.

B: So it doesn’t include me? How sad.

Z: I feel like our best is yet to come.

B: We’ve had more moments in our performances, it’s hard to say there was a whole performance that was just epic.

Z: Actually there was that one performance in Salt Lake.

B: Which one, Suzie’s? Yeah I would say that was our first taste – we did this home show out in Salt Lake City for this group Up For Anything and we had no idea what to expect. It was one of our first home shows.

Z: And we did it in Salt Lake, where I’m from. We showed up to this place and there were 75, 80 people there. I didn’t know any of them.

B: And that was this first time we had a taste of what this could be. We were in our element in this intimate house concert for 80 people we don’t know which had a lot of potential to grow. That was exciting.

Z: That was a great moment.

B: That was the first thing with the duet, like, ‘Oh this could work.’ We had been trying to do the full band thing for a long time. That was the first taste of Zach + Bridget being a good thing to go for.

AF: What are the dynamics of practicing and performing as a couple?

Z: I think it’s amazing, then it’s hard as fuck. I’ve been in bands with guys and there’s like an ego that everyone has and I think music brings [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”][it] out more. Then on top of that we have this relationship and then as well like, for whatever reason, we’ve decided to try and make a career out of this so there’s the business too. So you’re doing all three of those things in the same.

AFYou’re kind of taking your work home with you.

B: Oh absolutely.

Z: Even within music you have to decide that you’re not going to worry about music and business and focus on making something beautiful. I think, too, being able to shut both of those off when you want to be a couple. It’s tough. I think we’re both still figuring that out.

B: It’s an ongoing process. But at the same time being able to do what we love together is pretty special. There’s not a lot of couples that get to pursue that together so when we go on tours or play shows we have each other. We’re not alone.

Z: It’s not like we’re leaving for months on end. I think some of our favorite bands have the family component to it. Arcade Fire has husband and wife.

B: It helps to stick together when it’s not so great and that happens with us a lot. One of us will get a little bit down and the other one will bring us back up and it switches.

Z: There’s this communication that can go unspoken. During performances I can kind of look at her and know what the look means. Sometimes it’s not such a good message but I can get it.

B: And then people just think we’re in love so, we can make faces at each other like ‘ I can’t believe you just messed up’ but people think I’m making googly eyes at him.

AF: So y’all are getting married! Congrats! Are you staying in California?

B: For now we’re going to stay.

Z: We dream about leaving this place sometimes but…

B: We don’t feel like we’re stuck here. We feel like we should be here for now and we have a community here and we’re working and playing a lot. There’s music everywhere here. We’ve talked about moving to Salt Lake City, but where would we play? And how would we make money doing that? I think for now we’re going stay. We’ll go with the flow.

Z: Yeah, it’s weird. I would have never said this five years ago, but I love LA. It took me five years, but it takes living here to love it. What you perceive of LA visiting is way different then what it actually is. I miss my family a lot but it’d be hard to do what we’re doing right now anywhere else.

AF: Any musical children coming our way?

B: Ha, I hope not.

Z: Not for a while.

B: Getting married and having a family is something that we see in the future and would enjoy but right now we wouldn’t be able to support a family.

Z: We don’t want to just birth feral children into the world. Because from us, they could be pretty bad. So we’re going to wait so we can support them.

AF: What are your next steps?

B: I think our next big plan is to record a new album with just the two of us. We’ve done two full-length studio albums with the full band under the name Galanis and the full-band kind of mindset.

Z: They were more of a solo project for me with Bridget coming in as an artist working on some of it.

B: Now were looking to do our debut as Zach + Bridget. Not necessarily just the two of us – we’ll have guests come in – but the focus will be on the duet. So that’s the next big thing we want to do. Just to play and make money while we are doing it so we can financially support ourselves.

Zach + Bridget are still figuring out when their debut album will be recorded and released, but in the meantime they’ve been working on a series of live music videos, and we’re pleased to premiere one of them below! Give it a watch and feel the love.

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VIDEO REVIEW: Marissa Nadler “Firecrackers”

Marissa Nadler

Marissa Nadler

Though it was released back in February, Marissa Nadler’s stunning sixth album July (on Sacred Bones/Bella Union) is very much rooted in the month it was named for. As she explained during an interview with AudioFemme, the record deals specifically with her personal experiences, lived from July of 2012 when her romantic relationship dissolved as she self-destructed, through her regret and pain to a place of healing and rekindling lost love in July 2013. The record’s emotional centerpiece, “Firecrackers,” deals with that fallout and subsequent recovery with stoic grace, its simple guitar chords nonchalantly lilting around what sounds like a dead-eyed challenge to unnamed “attackers” – it’s me, it’s me, it’s me you’re lookin’ for – but, for Nadler, was more of an admission of guilt on her own part for the troubles she found herself in back then.

Just in time for Independence Day, Nadler has released a haunting, black-and-white clip directed by Ryan Hamilton Walsh. Over the brutal opening lines July Fourth of last year / We spilled all the blood / How’d you spend your summer days? Nadler’s ghostly image performs destructive, if inconsequential actions – smashing glass bottles, throwing her guitar to the forest floor, pouring water from buckets. Everything happens in rewind, the grainy footage recalling home videos, or how we might imagine our memories would look if others could view them. The symbolism lies in Nadler “undoing” her ruinous behavior, and as the clip progresses, overlays of oozing liquid wash away her pointless sins and obscure her devious past. We’ve all been the kid sticking a bottle rocket in our neighbor’s mailbox, and we’ve all been the adult committing crimes we felt were victimless that lead to our own demise. Nadler puts the two on par by juxtaposing the innocuous imagery in the “Firecrackers” video with her real, lived experience in the song’s lyrical content, reminding us that no matter how calamitous our lives, there is no rewinding or rewriting history – all that’s left is to forge ahead.

Marissa Nadler heads to Europe in the fall; she’ll be playing throughout the US this month (see dates below).

Jul 8 – Rock N Roll Hotel – Washington, DC
Jul 9 – Pinhook – Durham, NC
Jul 10 – The Earl – Atlanta, GA
Jul 12 – The Beatnik – New Orleans, LA
Jul 13 – Holy Mountain – Austin, TX
Jul 14 – City Tavern – Dallas, TX
Jul 15 – White Water Tavern – Little Rock, AR
Jul 16 – The Stone Fox – Nashville, TN
Jul 17 – Mike N Molly’s – Champaign, IL
Jul 18 – Rumba Café – Columbus, OH
Jul 19 – Cattivo – Pittsburgh, PA
Jul 20 – The Ballroom at Outer Space – New Haven, CT
Aug 1 – Northern Routes Festival – New Salem, MA