This Saturday BangOn!NYC is holding their mysterious music and arts festival Elements. Along an industrial waterfront in Brooklyn, the vibe should be somewhere between Berlin’s Boiler Room and the bug-infested desert of Burning Man. A few subway lines away from wherever you reside, the one-day event promises to be a slice of music and escapism without plagues or planes.
Elements will have four stages- Earth/Wind/Water/Fire, along with large-scale art installations, delicious food trucks, humans, fairies, hopefully giraffes, all sorts of magical creatures spinning around from the sky to add to the intensity of your experience. Dig the full line-up above. Or better yet, don’t even read it, just show up Saturday dressed as whatever your inner child wants and dance like summer never ends.
Anything described as “haunted pop” has already won my heart from the get go. On this day, Wednesday August 19th of 2015 AudioFemme is proud to premiere “Champagne Reign” by New York darling Micky Blue. “‘Champagne Reign’ is about how far some people are willing to go for the glamor and fame. I think you can still reach your dreams without “selling your soul” or loosing yourself, it’s a much harder and longer road but I think the payoff can be much greater,” says Micky.
It’s a sparking track that will translate easily to the dance floor, but with a message that may cause the dancer to look for the realness of the night, the eyes of the person you’re dancing with, and the thrill of being young and free and creating memories that could sell a movie script – without worrying how big the opening weekend would be. It sings of the delight of the glow of the sparklers, not the price tag that comes with the champagne bottle they appear with.
Sleepwalker is the debut album from New Brunswick singer-songwriter Leslie Bear, except we’re calling her Long Beard, despite no evidence of said beard. It’s an album four years in the making, produced by Chris Daly, and joined by Devin Silvers and Tom Christie on bass, and Stefan Koekemoer on drums. On the single “Porch”, Bear’s vocals crawl delicately like a spider across a web spun by the guitar lines. The song paints an aural portrait of the most beautiful time of the 24 hours we spend circling ’round the sun, when the light is dim enough to see fireflies, but not too dark that you’ve lost your lover’s features.
Sleepwalker is out via Team Love Records October 23. Listen to “Porch” below.
When was the last time you read the bible? Does wearing gothic cross earrings count? The Brooklyn-based singer/songwriter Sam Geller goes by the moniker of Samson the Truest after his biblical hero, Samson. “In his music, Geller seeks to balance the power and the vulnerability embodied by Samson, delving into topics of self-destruction and transcendence as they appear in daily life.” For the record, I quoted the author’s bio page as wearing gothic cross earrings does not in fact, count as reading the bible.
“Afterall” is Samson’s first track from his upcoming album Come Back Shane, out October 2nd. The song features vocals from their frequent collaborator Aerial East, along with Xan Aird (The Virgins) on guitar. “Afterall” manages to walk the fine line between calm and impassioned, proving you don’t need to read the bible to believe in soul.
I was studying television production until I got my heart broken and needed an outlet for the pain. I started writing and thus a career was born. From transformative emotional pain to the physical, Anthony Ferraro would have become a classical musician (he trained for nearly two decades) had it not been for his childhood-diagnosed arthritis flaring up while studying music at the University of California, Berkeley. With his hands out of sorts, he could “no longer…play etudes or concertos with the vigor they demanded,” so he dropped out of school. He did not, however, drop out of music. Ferraro began playing music of another variety under the name Astronauts, etc., (apparently he’s a space cadet). He didn’t lose his respect for musical refinement, however. His pop is recorded with a live band of trained jazz players (Scott Brown on bass, Derek Barber on guitar, Aaron Gold on drums, and Doug Stuart on keys and vocals).
In watching the video for “I Know” we must assume that under the skin of Ferraro’s head lies not a skull, but a disco ball, to which we are invited into. It’s pop, but refined pop. Smooth pop, intelligent and perfectly performed pop. It has a soul, and could very easily be classified as indie rock, but for the story of the classical musician who lost his hands and discovered a parallel universe I’ll call it – pop!
Astronauts, etc.’s debut album, Mind Out Wandering, comes out September 18th on Hit City U.S.A.
Watch the video for “I Know” below, directed by Vinyl Williams.
“How Did You Sleep Lady Kite” is the second single from Jesse R. Berlin’s debut album Glitter Lung, out August 14. Jesse R. Berlin first kicked up some dirt in the Tex-Mex blues scene of 1980s Houston, TX. After a rather roundabout series of adventures, breakups, and shakeups, Glitter Lung was recorded by Berlin as he isolated himself in his San Marcos studio for three years.
So about the song. The psychedelic nuances hint at a creation of odd hours – locked in the studio, perhaps with insomniac revelations and Ambien creativity. “Give me your love” the lyrics demand, a sentiment we’ve all felt, but that only come off (slightly) less creepy when sung from a sexy odd artist like Berlin. It thrusts you into that heady space of horniness as disco balls melt and your knees grow weak – ultimately giving way to passion and heading home – but not to sleep. Listen to “How Did You Sleep Lady Kite?” below.
The crowd wears sunglasses until the day gives in to night. The VIP’s are elevated in the front under umbrellas sponsored by Hendricks gin, or in the very back penned off in a Aquacai holding area. Teenage volunteers run around, excited and sweaty in contrast to the stone-faced security guards (well, it is summer in New York- everybody’s a little sweaty). It’s a Wednesday night and this is Summerstage, the outdoor concert series in Central Park where fans can see their favorite bands, communing with nature on a floor of astroturf.
When you’re standing shoulder to shoulder with your fellow listeners, feeling the claustrophobic of the makeshift rock arena inside the huge, open space that is Central Park, trying not to spill your eight-dollar, twelve-ounce cup of craft beer, it’ll never be more clear that while you hate large crowds, you love live music more than almost anything. The music of Angel Olsen seems to come floating down from the trees behind her instead of the speakers mounted on the stage. She is equally impressive live as she is on record, though she lamented that she had “a summer cold for Summerstage.” Her voice is both delicate and powerful, wavering and twisting itself from note to note over the foundation of her band.
Though charismatic, she lets her music carry the performance – her songs are not conductive to onstage antics or theatrics. That’s for the best, because the next act was the complete opposite, Father John Misty. Frontman Josh Tillman crooned his heart out, and left no syllable unaccompanied by a gesture, shimmy, sashay of the hips or another abuse of the mic stand. Just when you think the crowd is too big, and you’re too far to get the full effect of his performance, you hear him sing “You’re the one I want to watch the ship go down with” and feel like he’s talking straight to you. You think that crowds aren’t so bad after all. And anyway, you’re in Central Park on a gorgeous night: if you can’t see the stage, you can just tilt your head back and stare at the fading sunset, letting the music wash over you.
“We went overseas for about two years and became a really good band, and now we can do whatever we want.” Ezra Furman, the eccentric Chicago native who sold out Rough Trade on Wednesday strikes me as someone who’s always done whatever he wanted. He can do such things as wear red lipstick, a striped boat neck shirt, and tiny shiny gym shorts with oxford shoes and still look sexy, for instance.
Furman has just released his third full-length record Perpetual Motion Peopleon the acclaimed Bella Union label, and it’s a true gem. Tossing together rock n’ roll, folk, and delicious sax licks; PMP rests in a unique niche of contemporary music in that it doesn’t sound quite like anything else. I suspect one of the best compliments you can pay a musician is that their sound is truly their own, and true to that: Ezra Furman doesn’t sound like Mac Demarco, or Sunflower Bean, or Foals. Ezra Furman sounds like Ezra Furman.
Lyrically the album is brilliant. Furman not only possesses a knack for writing pop songs, but for equipping them with profound wit, wisdom, and heartache that stretches far beyond his 28 years. A personal favorite comes from the ennui-charged “Ordinary Life”: “way back in our mothers’ wombs, folded like notebooks, we had no idea of all the tote bags and the meathooks waiting out in the world.” A grim remark rendered cheeky when you realize it’s coming from someone who’s endured severe depression and mental illness, as Furman has. In a beautiful letter printed on the album’s lyric sheet Furman confesses that for the majority of his life he was gripped by a fear that he would die at 17. It’s no wonder his songs strike so deep.
Yet there was no shred of a tortured soul on Wednesday evening. Opening for Furman was Emily Einhorn and fellow Chicagoans J. Fernandez. Ezra could be spotted at the back of the crowd, politely chatting with fans and cheering on his supporting bands. You gotta love a headliner who watches the early sets with the sweaty rest of us. When Furman and his band (The Boyfriends) took to the stage the floor was packed out with admirers. They opened with “Day of the Dog” a track off of 2013’s album of the same name. “Well, this is interesting. This isn’t how I remember New York. I remember five people in the crowd at Arlene’s Grocery in 2007.” Clearly absence has made the heart grow wholly fond.
I could gush about Ezra for paragraphs, but his band demands some serious fawning. Not one of them is assigned a solitary task; Ben Joseph swapped between keyboards, guitar, whistling and singing, as did bassist Jorgen Jorgensen. Though he didn’t have a mic, drummer Sam Durkes insisted on mouthing the lyrics and whistling between beats. But the most dazzling to watch was sax-man Tim Sandusky, who produced, engineered, mixed and mastered Perpetual Motion People. He flailed around the stage filling out each song with defining woodwind phrases that congeal Furman’s sound.
Ezra played the majority of Perpetual Motion People as well as Day of the Dog, and the crowd ceased to dance throughout. During “Wobbly” Furman shelved his guitar for a shimmy break. He twisted around the stage with a strange mixture of girlish flirtation and proper sex appeal, though a clumsier side emerged while dancing by the drum kit and accidentally knocking the crash cymbal to the floor.
It was a show no one wanted to end. And though it had to, Ezra Furman was kind enough to gift us not one, but two encores, the latter of which being a smashing rendition of Jackie Wilson’s “(Your Love Keeps Lifting Me) Higher and Higher.” Higher and higher indeed, Ezra.
AudioFemme is having a party. Naturally, there will be a bounty of great music. Tuesday, August 18th at Brooklyn’s Baby’s All Right we’ll be dancing with some fabulous bands. To get you as excited as we are, here’s a preview of our favorite things about our delightfully odd musical guests. We feel no shame in bragging that we love all our events, but this lineup is particularly special. Tickets are $8 advance / $10 at door – snag them ahead of time here.
The well-dressed Baltimore rapper has the music blogosphere spinning after already securing icon status in his hometown. We love his “post-apocalyptic” sound that blends classic hip-hop beats as well as punk and industrial sounds you didn’t know existed. Keep close to this one, kids.
Brooklyn’s own ZGRT is already freaking people out. Their first single, “HARD POWER” is produced by Zachery Allan Starkey and DFA Records’ synth legend Gavin Russom, keeping LCD Soundsystem alive through his electric touch on the Brooklyn current. ZGRT creates techno, house, and post-punk beats that will make your booty shake and lyrics that will make your head spin.
The avant-garde rapper from Masssachusets leaves you dazed with her heavy beats like thunder clouds ready to pour down poetic lyrics. “These fuck boys tryna get me but I can’t be fucking up,” she drawls on “Super Fragile,” which you can just play over and over until you’re hypnotized.Fuck fuck boys.
As complex as the stars above our heads and equally as beautiful, the New Yorkers (Jordanville) create intricate dance music about some very serious topics, ranging from rebelling against political authority to self-harm. Truly, something for everyone.
Enjoy a teaser video below from Leverage Models, filmed and co-directed by D. James Goodwin.
For some musicians, it’d be a bold enough move to wear their heart on their sleeve with lyrics like “Feeling so confused, don’t know what to do/ Afraid she doesn’t love you anymore” or admitting they’ll“Never believe in a heart like hers again.” On his latest album, Another One, Mac DeMarco goes one step further by giving listeners his home address and inviting them to share a cup of coffee in the track “My House By The Water.”
Though certainly bold and unique, it’s not a completely risky move for the Canadian singer/songwriter. There’s little-to-no controversy in his music; DeMarco won’t have to worry about any irate listeners showing up, demanding explanations or apologies because his music has corrupted today’s youth (he lives in the Far Rockaways of Brooklyn, quite a commute even for most New Yorkers). DeMarco’s music is the chillest of the chill: slide guitar lines lazily trail his vocals, whammy bars are invoked gently, and drums keep a crisp, tight beat. His half-asleep voice invokes an incredibly laid back, slightly-stoned version of Jeff Tweedy. It’s so relaxed, some songs bleed into each other, but this gives the album a consistent, thematic quality. And at only 23 minutes long, mixing up the energy with more upbeat songs like “I’ve Been Waiting For Her” is enough variation.
It’s rare that an album can be so engrossing, yet casual and conversational. Another One feels almost like a high-production jam going on in Mac’s backyard.One might be going on right now, in fact- it wouldn’t be too hard to find out, considering we have his address. Road trip, anyone?
It would seem that Pier 84 is the place to be this summer. With 4Knots boasting an impressive lineup of bands a few weeks ago, Hudson RiverRocks is upholding the more independent side of things, considering the bands and the cost, which is zero dollars. The lineup consisted of Santa Monica’s Weyes Blood, Speedy Ortiz out of Massachusetts, and Alabama’s own Waxahatchee. The shows start around six, and they’re a great way to spend the hours between work and bed. Weyes Blood is a sleepy start to the evening, and for a moment I wonder if the weather is bending to meet their mood. Violet grey clouds hang overhead, and everyone is wondering at the possibility of a downpour.
Natalie Mering, who essentially is Weyes Blood, is wearing a red polka-dot dress under a white trench. Her long black hair is in a low, slack ponytail that lends her a Joan Baez quality. At first she plays solo, singing over her keyboard, but shortly after the first couple of tracks her band mates trickle onstage. Mering’s music is cinematic, almost score-like. Her voice is stunning, sweeping and angelic, but admittedly, depressing. It’s a winter sound, and though I enjoy it very much, I’m not sure it’s fitting for a Pier 84 summer stage. The crowd is mixed, half of them swaying calmly while the rest chuckle. It’s not for everyone I guess.
Speedy Ortiz on the other hand, sound like the headliners at a house party after a long day at the beach. They could be the band playing your prom in an eighties movie, or in a dark club in a nineties movie. In a word, they’re fun. Sadie Dupuis is a powerhouse front-woman who looks a bit riot grrrrl in her pleated skirt and knee socks. You can hear a lot of Sonic Youth and Pavement in their set, but Dupuis’ girlish vocals matched with stern delivery make for a fresh sound. And I can’t take my eyes of drummer Mike Falcone, who’s bang-on and provides quite the punch. Having just made a riotous appearance at South by Southwest (Hannibal Buress sat in on drums) and released their sophomore record Foil Deer, the band is turning out to be much loved by fans as well as fellow musicians. At Happyness’s Cake Shop gig in April, drummer Ash Cooper sported one of their t-shirts. “They’re great!” he beamed. Rightly so.
Towards the end of their set, we all feel a sprinkle. Just like that it’s lights out and go home. There’s fear of a massive thunder and lightning storm, and given the very electric nature of all the equipment on stage, the good people of Hudson River Park decide it’s not worth the risk. The show mustn’t go on after all. It’s sad and unfair news for Waxahatchee.
Be sure to check out the final installment of Hudson RiverRocks featuring Yuck and U.S. Girls this Thursday, August 6th at Pier 84. And don’t forget to bring an umbrella. Just in case.
While last year’s 4Knots was downtown and gratis, the updated version boasts an impressive list of food vendors, top notch sound quality, and a killer lineup. And though you have to shell out a lot more than nothing this time ‘round, rest assured that all proceeds go to benefit Hudson River Park itself.
As you can see from our interview with the Grand Rapids trio, these boys are straightforward and approachable as human beings as well as musicians. They play psych rock straight up. Their set was incredibly tight and focused. It’s always interesting for a band’s sound to be so raucous and raw and their composure so stoic and professional. Guitarist/vocalist Andrew Tamlyn, drummer Joshua Korf, and bassist/vocalist Nolan Kreb all look like they could be in three different bands, but they sure as hell sound like one. Despite a little pestilence from a “Free Bird!” shouting audience member, the crowd loved them, and so did I.
Meatbodies:
In my opinion the most surprising act of the evening, Los Angeles-based Meatbodies kicked ass. It’s a pedestrian description, but an accurate one. They’re a shambolic bunch whose stage banter is far from sophisticated and all the better for it. “We’re sorry we’re sick. We ate too much cheese last night. We’re sick on cheeeeeeeeeese!!!!!” they shout out phlegmy throats. Lead man Chad Ubovich is freakishly talented, and when you consider his resume it makes sense; he was long the lead guitarist for Mikal Cronin and currently plays bass in Fuzz. Each Meat Body has palpable chops, but Ubovich is a real showman and potentially a savant; his solos are wild and wailing, seeming at once impossible and effortless. As his guitar squeals his eyes roll back in his head and his mouth twitches in unembarrassed focus. The lot of them come off like your shithead little brother – that all your friends would rather hang out with.
Happyness:
You may have noticed by now that we’re a bit hung up on Happyness, and that won’t be changing anytime soon. They play a familiar set-at least to someone who’s seen them three times in the past couple of months-but it never grows stale. The thing that continues to surprise and delight me about these boys is that despite their all-too-clever lyrics and flippant interview responses, they perform with an intense and joyous sincerity. Drummer Ash Cooper, though only in his early twenties, comes off like a seasoned jazz session man, mouthing each brush on the high hat, squinting and smiling in a surely unconscious way. Benji Compston and Jonny Allan do all the talking to the crowd, but as a trio they seem to be speaking to each other with a ease and professionalism that typically marks bands who’ve been together much longer than they.
I’ve been looking for Stephen Malkmus all night. Was he in the crow’s nest? Aboard the artists’ lounge? Catching some shade under that enormous prop Deep Eddy Vodka bottle tethered to the bow of the boat? He’d managed to escape my searching eyes until the moment he stepped out from behind the stage (I’m convinced I was the first person to see him). “Hello photographer people” he mutters and leans over the photo pit a bit self-consciously. The Jicks are on the edge of their first song when a resounding ferry horn honks. “Even ships fart,” Malkmus quips, proving he’s still the easily humored dude he’s always been. The band played the bulk of 2014’s Wig Out at Jagbags but no Pavement managed to creep into their set. (I can dream, can’t I?) A particular show high-point peaked during “Freeze The Saints” when Malkmus sauntered over to guitarist/keyboardist Mike Clark to join him on the keys. They plunked away side by side until Malkmus turned to Clark, stating dryly: “You’re stepping on me, bro.”
It’s only fitting that the Super Furries would headline, seeing as they’ve been on hiatus for half a decade. I know that the stage set up won’t be demure (knowing them, and how long it takes for them to come onstage) but I have read the yeti costumes are destroyed, and will therefore not make an appearance this tour. They too find amusement in the ferry horns, pausing after the first and maniacally shouting back at it. SFA fans are not fainthearted, and there is a flock of them. They play all the favorites, mine being “Juxtaposed With You” simply for how much it stands away from their catalog. Their set is long and solid, but of course they deliver a generous encore. And despite all the talk, they play it in yeti suits after all.
Apparently, there is a right way to listen to some records, and I got it wrong when playing LVL UP‘s new EP, Three Songs. According to the lo-fi group’s Bandcamp page, listeners should “[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”][dim] the lights, burning all candles found within the dwelling. With eyes open toward the ceiling, the listener feels dull heat from the candles in front of them. Eyes closed now, the listener begins to regulate their breathing and in time presses play on their device.” Since I’ve never been one for rituals, and out of fear of burning down my apartment, I just plugged my laptop into speakers and turned them up past the roar of the AC. The result? Still good.
Three Songs is just that, and they follow the general format of their earlier work but break some new ground. “The Closing Door” is a melancholy track with heavy distortion and a slow, steady beat similar to songs on their last release, Hoodwink’d, but fades into and out of a slightly psychedelic jam during the bridge. “Blur” is a bright pop song reminiscent of tracks like “I Feel Ok,” but brings a new energy, particularly in the rhythm section, and a crisper, cleaner sound. “Proven Water Rites” is a mysterious end to the EP, containing most of the release’s angst: “Remember me, when I’m free I’ll be easy /Nothing underneath/ Breathing fire, breathing steam.”
Candles or no, Three Songs is a great listen from a band that has always had talent, but continues to evolve and polish their sound.
New York-based songstress EVVY recently released her new single “Tidal Wave.” The enchanting pop track, a collaboration with Baby Daddy of Scissor Sisters, Mickey Valen, and Chris Wallitsch speaks of the grounding power love holds against uncontrollable and destructive forces. First and foremost, “Tidal Wave” is really fun, which both in the world of songwriting and let’s be honest – love – is rather refreshing. Immediately the distinct feeling of being overtaken by a wave, caught up while body surfing and being tossed and thrown is evoked. It is a lot like love, absolutely terrifying, and there’s a slight risk you’ll become paralyzed for life in the struggle. The key to not only surviving, but having the time of your life – is to just roll with it.
Fortunaut is the moniker of Brooklyn-based musician Ryan Kershaw – joined with an ensemble of his best friends and finest music makers: Robin Buyer, Erik Caldarone, Zack Trahan, and Nick Pope. They recently released their debut LP Press Up Off the Earth July 11, 2015.
Once upon a time Fortunaut was just Kershaw in his Boston bedroom, but now the band spend their time between Brooklyn and Boston. Press Up Off the Earth was composed in four weeks and recorded live in one day at Virtue and Vice Studios in Brooklyn.
My intital listening to Press Up Off the Earth took place alone, sitting cross-legged on my bed with a cup of sleepy tea in one hand and additional herbal relaxation in the other. The opening title track sets the atmosphere, warming you up to what is a thoughtful and cohesive listening experience. Initially I was taken back five years in my memory to sitting on my bed in a similar fashion hearing Band of Horses Infinite Arms for the first time during a final week of college. The comparison’s beyond the shared serenity of proper indie rock; for the record, Fortunaut is far more experimental and less folk. What was responsible for my memory jolt is that you don’t remember the first time you hear each album, but for me Infinite Arms was one of them – and now Press Up Off the Earth is too.
Favorite tracks include the nostalgic “Young” and the heart-acheningly beautiful “Vow.” Press Up Off the Earth feels like a debut album, but not in the sense that they need worry about a sophomore slump. That’s not a backhanded compliment, but simply you can hear them finding their sound, and while the scruff is sexy, I have a feeling in a few years they’ll look even better clean-shaved.
Letting go is hard. Memories can act as a quicksand of sorts, keeping us stuck in toxic relationships or negative situations that make us feel shitty, because perhaps there once was light. They say much of what makes up our experience of love is how someone makes you feel. “Think of Anything,” the new track from New York-based future soul artist Jojee is about someone who makes you feel you can do anything. That’s much more pleasant than being stuck in the mud, isn’t it? Despite its uplifting ideals, the song is far from annoying pop, but a darkly beautiful soul track with smooth hip hop beats, like a sly smile that gradually warms your face when you realize you’ve made it to the other side.
“Think of Anything” is produced by Mickey Valen. Listen below.
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.
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.
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]
At eleven this morning, Spirit Family Reunion are giving their best sun salutation and we accompany them with hands and hearts. These rabble-rousers make dangerous music, you know the type, the kind that makes you want to swallow a glass of whiskey whole and howl into the night.
Throughout the day Madisen Ward and the Mama Bear sing us regal goat songs, the Barr Brothers serenade with sweet harp lullabies, and Nikki Lane rocks us dirty. When an audience member voices his approval, Langhorne Slim assures us that “you sound good too.” I look around at the scenic harbor and feel a pang of jealousy for every musician that gets to play music where the air smells of raven waters.
Even Sufjan Stevens mentions that playing this festival is a lifelong dream come true for him. His humanity has never been more apparent. He laughs as the audience helps him remember the words to the second verse of “Casimir Pulaski Day” and when he chokes out some of the higher notes he recalls that those same notes were a lot “easier when [/fusion_builder_column][fusion_builder_column type=”1_1″ background_position=”left top” background_color=”” border_size=”” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” spacing=”yes” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” padding=”” margin_top=”0px” margin_bottom=”0px” class=”” id=”” animation_type=”” animation_speed=”0.3″ animation_direction=”left” hide_on_mobile=”no” center_content=”no” min_height=”none”][he] was younger.” We hear in Sufjan’s voice the ephemeral nature of everything; he intones “we’re all gonna die” and we allow ourselves to both recognize and release this simple fact. It is a moment of perfect chaos, heavy lightness. Sufjan plays us out with a hypno-dystopian version of “Chicago” and for the moment we believe in fairies.
Photo by Mery Cheung
The Decemberists, ever professional, come outfitted in suits and make the kids twist and shout. We head out just in time to catch the next water taxi and marvel at how easy it would be to get used to this.
Two trains, three buses, a cab, a shuttle, and a water taxi, amounting to a cool eleven hours of traveling later, we arrive at Newport Folk Fest to some bad news; the skies are flashing ill intent and there’s been an “official weather alert” sent out. We are asked to join in prayer.
Enter Tallest Man on Earth, clad in black and with the Devil in his eye. He croons out a few of what he describes as “breakup songs” and we rock in time to our own lost love. At the end of every song he tosses the pick like a bad dream, then at the fourth song or so something wonderful starts to happen. Hot rays poke through the mist; it seems the Tallest Man has a voice that coaxes the sun awake, woos away clouds. We too have fallen prey to his trademark charisma.
To say that Kristian Matsson, the man behind the Tallest Man, and his frantic gyrations are hypnotizing would be no overstatement. He struts; he balks; his brows flick with each twang. I’ve never seen a man make a photo pit work so hard to keep up.
But for all his stage antics, the crowd keeps a steady calm, unwavering in their sway. I’m participating in what seems to be a meditation in the perverse art of chill, flailing dance heat for flailing heartbeats. I can tell already that this festival might not be for your average attention deficit disorder dudes and diet coke heads. No doubt that crowd would fail to hear the witch songs beckoning you to the furthest reaches of the ocean.
Matsson is this great wilderness embodied, gnawing savagely at his own paws. He sings through his teeth, “oh Lord, why am I not strong like the branch that keeps the hangmen hanging on.” I fear this monster might eat us up he loves us so.
Soon the skies make good on their promise, and the storm begins. Roger Waters still has to play, but I think it might be prophetic that he brought the rain, so perhaps we aught to head back to the water taxi? I’m feeling superstitious today. Either that, or I just really need the sleep.
Once during a sticky New York City summer weekend amongst a web of personal chaos, I called up a friend and sometimes lover from my couch and said: “Let’s go on an adventure.” An hour later we had taken his friend’s car and were driving lesisurely to Coney Island. The best word for a lover and friend I’ve come up with is “sex friend” – straight to the point – but “Homeshake” is far more fun.
Homeshake is the solo project of Montreal-based musician Peter Sagar (formerly guitarist for Mac Demarco). He left life on the road to create a calmer exhistence and get in touch with his own groove. This track, off his sophomore effort Mid-night Snack due out September 18th via Sinderlyn, feels like the calm undercurrent below anxieties, and reminds me of my own day at Coney Island: footage cutting from stoned serene stares to nearly puking your brains out. A dreamy effort reflective of Sagar’s switch from guitars to synthesizers, the duality of the song’s nature (it would be great for both solo meditation music and creating partner orgasms) is reflective of a project that demonstrates the beauty that occurs when you throw away what you should do and follow your instincts. Watch “Give it to me” below.
Art lives on heartbreak. I was first introduced to Gallant, the young soaring R&B star when I saw him perform at the Westway earlier this summer. I can be socially anxious, and the tight-packed, beer-drenched crowd wasn’t helping. Until he began performing, and then everything was okay. His music is like Xanax. We’re on the comedown from an Era of Frills, when artists’ teams put a lot of attention on “everything else,” choreography, costumes, perhaps a fashion line. Gallant hints that as a community we’re ready to get back to the soul of music. As a performer a sincerity burst through, an honesty to his vocals and organic dancing that melded the passion in the music.
His new single “Weight in Gold” is an exemplary introduction to the artist if he hasn’t crossed your radar. The overflowing ballad pairs crunchy hip hop beats with an R&B soul we’ve been craving. “I’m pulling my weight in gold/but I can’t lift this on my own.” Lyrics translate the agonizing frustration of realizing sometimes a partner can only meet you as far as they’re willing to meet themselves. That being said, his voice is beautiful enough to make you believe that love is actually enough.
He has the right look, at the right time, with more than enough talent; keep an eye on Gallant and listen to “Weight in Gold” below.
The 5th annual 4Knots Music Festival approaches. Held Saturday, July 11 at Pier 84, this year brings performances from Welsh psych-stars Super Furry Animals and Portland rockers Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks along with: Twin Peaks, Mikal Cronin, Screaming Females, Happyness, Meatbodies, Heaters, Heaven, and Surfbort. Thankfully nothing overlaps so you can see them all ’cause they all rock. I just picked the top three to talk about that at this point in my existence made me feel something.
I used to think this band’s name was just too obvious, but the Chicago rock ‘n’ rollers won me over with their haunting and heartbreaking guitars and melody.
You can’t miss these London boys, who also make the list of one of our favorite AudioFemme interviews of all time. My favorite part of their songs is their lyrics, in particular the highly intelligent yet playful musings on love. They just make it sound so fun!
Controller makes New York City rock ‘n’ roll. They have a July residency at Pianos, and we’re giving away two tickets to their show on the 28th. Just head to AudioFemme’s Facebook page and “like” or “comment” on the photo of these handsome devils . And, as they say themselves, it’s great music to drink too, so we’ll throw in two Brooklyn Passports with each.
Their single “Flame” builds to a mega-fun and catchy rock tune that will have you shaking your hips and kissing the grooving fool next to you. Let your hair down, win some tickets, and grab a drink. While they sound mighty fine from speakers as a party soundtrack, it’s the stuff that’s meant to be soaked in live.
Winners will be chosen at random. Best of luck and listen to “Flame” below!
Brooklyn’s Of Clocks and Clouds just premiered a new music video for “What You Need,” and it’s hella captivating. The video opens with a girl waking up in a hotel room, appearing hungover, disheveled, and heartbroken – eye liner smeared. She showers, applies make up and classic black lingerie, and the curiosity sets in for the viewer. She looks stunning. The same cannot be said for her costar – a slimy looking man she meets in a hotel room down the hall. Oh yeah, she’s getting ready for a porn shoot. The song itself features elegantly placed vocals over dark, driving, electric guitar. Guitars and porn, it’s rock ‘n’ roll, but not for shock value. The video watches like a well-directed short story that does what the best art is meant to: raises questions and leaves you wanting more.
Listen to the track via Soundcloud here:
Ticket Giveaways
Each week Audiofemme gives away a set of tickets to our featured shows in NYC! Scroll down to enter for the following shindigs.
