ezra furman – Audiofemme

Wrestling with “Sad Girl Indie” and the Limits of Rawness

Earlier this year, in a March listening party following the release of her acclaimed third album Little Oblivions, Julien Baker sat down with NPR columnist and host Jewly Hight and Mackenzie Scott (who performs as Torres). Their conversation revealed an uncomfortable undercurrent of the way today’s booming female indie musicians are framed in popular media: the ever-present discourse of “rawness” and emotion that accompanies critical reception of their work.

“Sure, call it ‘raw’ because it was totally spontaneous,” Torres remarked sarcastically; the term hardly applies to Little Oblivions, Baker’s first release with a full studio band and released after a lengthy reckoning with her creative persona. “It’s just a journal entry. Right.”

Hight describes this “raw” characterization as a misplaced focus on “purging as opposed to craft,” and once identified, it’s easy to see how often that lens is focused on the performers who comprise the loose umbrella of contemporary “sad girl indie.” The term “raw” has not only been used for Phoebe Bridgers’ debut Stranger in the Alps, but also her 2020 release Punisher, which was praised by NME for its sonic experimentation and Stereogum for its “biting, hilarious” lyrics. It’s been bounced around to describe Lucy Dacus’ Home Video, featuring “Thumbs,” a track so layered and personal that Dacus spent years refining and reconsidering it in live show performances that she asked audience members not to record. Last month, she released another version of the song, too, with additional instrumentation.

“Raw” is an odd term for the intimate, candid work of these musicians. It implies a certain undoneness, a lack of artistic focus resulting from ecstatic emotional clarity. It also connotes an ancient, patriarchal idea that art created by women is taken directly from personal experience, rather than the filtration of creative vision and process. Conor Oberst, for instance, a longtime influence and current frequent collaborator of Phoebe Bridgers, has largely escaped seeing his music called “raw” — except when he’s specifically sought it out.

“When people hear ‘sad boy music,’ they don’t assume it’s a heartbreak,” Audrey Neri, who releases music as Cherry Flavor, points out in Marissa Matozzo’s zine Sad Girl Indie: The Genre’s Relevance in 2021. In contrast to “rawness,” men like Oberst, Christian Lee Hutson, and King Krule – who create music on the same emo-folk-indie pop spectrum that “sad girl indie” comprises – are seen as philosophical troubadours, engaging with emotion on an abstract level. Héloïse Adelaïde Letissier, who lays claim as Christine and the Queens to unabashed, public female sadness in “People, I’ve Been Sad,” put it this way in a recent conversation with Crack magazine: “even in art, women are refused the apersonal.”

Linked to “raw,” the term “sad girl indie” occupies a complicated gendered space in contemporary pop culture. It’s been cited as a space of solace by New Yorker staff writer Jia Tolentino, and claimed as a moniker of feminist community and genre by fans and certain artists. But it’s also been lambasted by Dacus, who doesn’t even consider most of her songs to be sad — as well as Bridgers and Baker, her fellow members of supergroup boygenius, who joined forces after being relentlessly pigeonholed and compared to each other as members of the “sad girl” set. These recent criticisms have led some to argue for abolishing the categorization altogether.

The question of who gets to be in the “sad girl” club has also been raised. Though sad girl indie has been praised for its queer narratives, transfemme musicians like Ezra Furman and Ethel Cain are rarely included in the conversation, to say nothing of the “girl” moniker’s implicit exclusion of nonbinary musicians. Discussions of Black and Indigenous artists like Arlo Parks, FKA Twigs, Black Belt Eagle Scout, and Indigo de Souza are also rare, though de Souza recently offered a compelling perspective on “sad girl indie” hagiography in the Michigan Daily podcast Arts, Interrupted. As TN2 Magazine points out, the women of color who are included under the “sad girl indie” umbrella (typically Mitski, Jay Som, and Japanese Breakfast) have been tokenized and ascribed troublingly-racialized descriptions like “feral,” in addition to the old standby of “raw.”

Of course, effusive emotion has always been a double-edged sword for women in the public eye, dating back to Victorian diagnoses of hystericalism, or even the dismissal of medieval “madwoman” mystic Margery Kempe for her public, psychosexual devotion. Reclaiming this patriarchal notion and finding strength in intense, uncomfortable vulnerability has been a hallmark not only of contemporary “sad girl”-ism, but also the musical forebears who influenced it.

Take Joni Mitchell for instance, who Brandi Carlile recalls dismissing for being “too soft” before listening to Blue at the behest of her wife, which forced her to “reconsider what ‘tough’ is.” Proto-“sad girls” like Mitchell, Joan Armatrading, and those that followed in the ‘90s feminist punk and singer-songwriter scenes used the aesthetics of emotion to construct artistic spaces in a world that refused to listen to them, giving voice to complex narratives ranging from unwanted pregnancy to systemic poverty, environmental anxiety, and queer desire. This is echoed in today’s “sad girls,” whose music reckons explicitly with abuse, addiction, and mental health concerns.

The potential strength of sad girl indie, however, is diluted by the critical presumption that its artists’ songs are “raw,” unprocessed “journal entries,” rather than artistic acts of ownership and cultivation. It’s also vastly diminished by the exclusion of trans and BIPOC artists, for whom the reclamation of the complicated, ruminative emotions so key to the subgenre’s success is even more urgent.

There may be hope for “sad girl indie,” if it can escape the “raw” paradigm and be considered expansively as a springboard for artistic community. At the very least, moving on from “sad girl indie” may offer a chance for something new to rise from its ashes: an evolved understanding of the queer and feminist undercurrents of today’s musical landscape, one that appreciates the complexity and artistry of its performers outright.

FESTIVAL REVIEW: Highlights of Coachella 2017

The first time I went to Coachella, it was reminiscent of a first date to adult Disneyland. My husband and I ran like milk-drunk toddlers through the festival grounds. We stumbled upon bands as we went along, making no must-see lists whatsoever. We bought expensive sweaters the first night, not knowing how cold the valley gets. Our budget was quickly blown as beers and gourmet tacos stacked up throughout the weekend.

This year, we bought beer and grilled cheese makings at Costco. In the weeks leading up to the festival, we co-ordinated with our camping buddies via an ever-beeping Facebook messenger group. Our conversations routinely turned back to an epic Hans Zimmer vs Tove Lo vs DJ Khaled debate. On the first day, our bellies were full of beer and our minds were full of scheduling conflicts.

It was a weekend of eye-brow raising performances. Radiohead’s silent disco. Lady Gaga’s disappointing iTunes plug. DJ Snake’s…performance. For three days, the campgrounds blared “Humble” in preparation for The King’s Sunday performance (and Kendrick didn’t disappoint). As usual, however, the undercards stole the show.

Preservation Jazz Hall Band beat the heat.

The Heineken Tent on the left-hand side of Main Stage is always a good area to pop a squat early on. As we sauntered past the phallic Dr Seuss garden, I was fairly stunned to hear that the Preservation Jazz Hall Band hadn’t read the heat index. Once called “more EDM than EDM“, the band didn’t hold back, attacking the heat with the kind of rhythm and style only jazz can bring. They actually got my group to chug their beers and dance in the heat near the stage for the last few songs. Hats off to those band members wearing suits at four in the afternoon.

Sunset with Two Door Cinema Club

Saturday saw many hours soaking up the water gun stream inside the DoLab. After a few of Trejo’s jackfruit tacos, we ventured back out into the sun to catch Two Door Cinema Club. “What You Know” is one of my “keep it on repeat” jams, so seeing them live was a dream. The crowd shook off it’s sweaty, sunburnt vibes and danced with wild abandon on the crisp green grass.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=anJJn94440M

Move over, Lady Gaga. Nicolas Jaar is on.

Around 10:00pm on Saturday, we wandered. It’s my personal belief that every time an artist incorporates fire into their performance, Coachella is leading the flies away from something better. So when DJ Snake lit the stage up (literally), we quickly dispersed to Gucci Mane. Two songs in, I was pretty satiated. The crowd was thick and pumped for Gucci. I was dead tired and looking for dance space. We raced over to catch some of Nicolas Jaar. His latest album Sirens is a departure from his usual “Mi Mujer”, more “turned up” fair; the music builds slowly with ambient beats and delicate textures. In a live context, however, the album is dark, foreboding, and definitely “turned up”.

Our zero, Ezra Furman.

For weeks leading up to Coachella, my husband would casually mention, “I can’t wait to see Ezra Furman,” or “Just as long as [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”][seeing some other band] doesn’t conflict with Ezra Furman.” By the time we sat down in the grass to watch, I was pretty pumped to see what all the fuss was about. “We’ve got money enough to be here. How you use your money that lines billionaires’ pockets, you have a say in that,” Ezra Furman spoke with a gentle fervor, quick and concise. His set was tightly wound, with the crowd responding vocally to upbeat favorites like “Restless Year,” “My Zero,” and “Lousy Connection.” In a year where EDM ruled, it was refreshing to hear Ezra’s nasal voice rise up to great us.

Bustin’ a move with Sofi Tukker.

The last time I saw Sofi Tukker perform, I knew they were gonna be big by the next tour. Yet, both Sophie Hawley-Weld and Tucker Halpern seemed genuinely surprised at the large crowd gathered at 3:45 on a Sunday. The EDM crowd was in fine form as they danced in time to “Drinkee.” Hawley-Weld was resplendent in the afternoon sun, dressed all in white; Halpern had his signature coif spray-painted pink and blue for the occasion. The performance featured a few surprises, including Scissor Sisters frontman Jake Shears joining the duo on stage for a several songs, and an aggressive rendition of “Greed,” a dance protest song that zeros in on Trump’s hair.

Don’t you remember Grouplove?

Honne was the place to be. Yet a few songs into their Mojave set, we were itching to get over to Grouplove. It’s the eternal festival question of “new hotness” vs “old standby.” We shuffle-danced for a bit before running to the main stage just in time to hear “Ways To Go,” which they followed up with “Tongue-tied,” “Let Me In,” and “Colours.” I had completely forgotten my old love of Grouplove. I even found myself singing along to newer tracks like “Good Morning” with wild abandon. Sometimes you just need a little pop-rock in your day.

Hans Zimmer Tears.

Would people show up for Hans Zimmer? It was the question in the back of my mind all weekend. We got to the stage a bit early to get a good spot and already the signs were good: the crowd was amped and had brought along glow-in-the-dark props. There were moments of confusion throughout the show (especially when it came to how to dance), but Zimmer’s 10 minute mashup of the Inception, The Dark Knight Rises, The Thin Red Line and Gladiator soundtracks was the highlight of many people’s weekend (including my own). Oh…and I totally cried when they played “Circle of Life.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sv4LfRJXf5w

By the time “Kung-Fu Kenny” (a.k.a. Kendrick) hit the stage Sunday night, our group was beat. The sun was so rough that day I’d nearly gotten sick at 2pm. We were worn from dancing in the DoLab to Space Jesus, our skin was burnt despite layers of sun block, and Justice had gotten the last of my sweet, sweet dance moves. But Kendrick didn’t need hype in order to get the crowd on his side. He stood on stage with a giant screen looming and twisting above him, commanding our attention, demanding feedback from us, but didn’t punish us too much. Later, as we sat together in the campground drinking a beer, we blasted “Humble” one more time.[/fusion_builder_column][/fusion_builder_row][/fusion_builder_container]

Staff Picks – Madison Bloom: Under-heard/Under-sung Releases of 2016

The year-end list is a tricky politic. You want to be fair, objective, and omnivorous. You want to be unexpected, but not too unexpected. Every December, Grammy nominations and Best Albums lists are released within weeks of each other, and while I’m no conspiracy theorist, I can’t help but suspect that the former informs the latter (along with sales figures, hype, etc.). Just reading through the big names in music journalism, there is a pattern that would be silly to ignore.

This year, Lemonade, The Life of Pablo, 22, A Million, A Seat at the Table, Blonde, Anti, Coloring Book, Puberty 2, Blackstar and A Moon Shaped Pool have dominated the top slots. I take no issue with this, as these are all great records worthy of praise. But it does make me suspicious…while I do not conspire, I frequently suspect. The big music pubs bear their differences, and vary in their positioning of said records. But isn’t a different configuration of the same set of data kind of like…switching up the seating chart at a dinner party?

(I won’t pretend to understand the process editors and staff writers undergo when making their year end lists. I’m sure it is far more complicated and arduous than I am alluding to.)

I am actually grateful for the big guns writing about the same records, because it means I don’t have to. It’s done! What I’d rather do is share with you some music that flew under the radar this year, despite its wonderful wingspan. And with that, I give you the Under-heard/Under-sung Releases of 2016.

LPs

Timber Remixed-Michael Gordon, Mantra Percussion, Various Artists

When I reviewed this album in November I likened it to a vibratory massage – something you felt as much as heard. For that fact alone this record is worthy of a listen…I’ve never heard anything like it. What Michael Gordon began in 2009 with six 2x4s has been re-sculpted by Mantra Percussion and some of the most interesting contemporary musicians and producers out there.

Tim Hecker, Fennesz, Hauschka, and Oneohtrix Point Never are just a few names that can be found on this record, but despite the strong point of view each guest producer brings to the table, none of them overpower the original, resonant beauty of percussive wood.

Open To Chance-Itasca

Is there a sweeter songbird than Itasca’s Kaya Cohen? Not that I’ve heard in a while. But Cohen is no mere voice – she is also the core songwriter of the band, and that delicately plucked guitar gracing the LP is hers as well. Open to Chance is an album in full – one that maintains a gorgeous sonic texture throughout. Here you’ll find country drums, twanging guitars, and the shining cry of the pedal steel. Favorite tracks include “Buddy,” “G.B.” and “Daylight Under My Wing,” the latter of which calls to mind the airy arrangements on Bill Callahan’s Dream River (think: flute).

Open to Chance is a seemingly fitting title for this record, as it is open to interpretation as well. At times hopeful and others forlorn, the record floats in a lovely shade of grey.

2013-Meilyr Jones

2013 could be hastily summed up as a baroque pop love letter to Rome. But it is so much more than that. In 2013 Meilyr Jones left his moderately successful band Race Horses, went through a painful breakup, and in an attempt to revitalize himself, moved to Rome for several weeks. He didn’t really have a plan, which often leads to the kind of open-mindedness necessary for creative catharsis to blossom. And oh, it did.

Though released three years after Jones’ excursion, the majority of the songs on 2013 were written in the ancient city, later recorded in the U.K. with a ragtag team of Jones’ musician friends. Given its dense and lovely instrumentation, one could easily think that this was an expensive record…but Jones is a resourceful man. Five of the twelve songs were recorded live in a single day with his last minute, 30-piece orchestra. And the songs aren’t only lush in arrangement – Jones covers lyrical ground that spans love lost, refugees, and the fallacy-ridden art world. A beauty.

Mirage Dreams-Breanna Barbara

Oh, what a belter this woman is! If you were to guess what Mirage Dreams sounded like by its wistful cover, you’d be real surprised when you pressed play. Breanna Barbara has a voice that reaches the breathy low of Hope Sandoval, and the shaky soprano of country sirens.

Barbara’s music is whiskey soaked, revved up, lit-cigarette blues. There is no shortage of pain on this record, especially on tracks like “Sailin’ Sailin’,” which seems to address the loss of a parent. It’s heavy stuff from that soft, wheat-framed face on the cover. That’s a contrast I welcome wholeheartedly.

The Gamble –Nonkeen

Remember that line in Zoolander when Jerry Stiller’s character says that Mugatu “is so hot he can take a crap, wrap it in tin foil, put a couple fishhooks on it, and sell it to Queen Elizabeth as earrings”? It’s a crass example, but that’s pretty much how I feel about Nils Frahm – though he’d never have to stoop so low to stoke intrigue. But seeing as I will devour anything with the Nils Frahm stamp on it, I leapt at the chance to listen to The Gamble by Nonkeen, of which Frahm is 1/3.

The other 2/3 are made up by Frahm’s childhood friends Frederic Gmeiner and Sebastian Singwald, who have been making music together on and off for decades. That level of intimacy is palpable on The Gamble; you can certainly hear the Frahm touch, but the composition as a whole is collaborative and progressive. There’s guitair, piano, synthesizer, tape loops and a whole host of sounds I love but sruggle to identify. A gorgeous soundscape in which to lose yourself.

Suicide Songs –MONEY

MONEY’s second LP entirely defied the sophomore slump, instead soaring upward to dizzying heights. These Manchester-based lads, lead by singer/songwriter Jamie Lee, might be melodramatics, but in a world where things like “chill wave” exist, I’m sometimes in the mood for a grand overture.

And Suicide Songs is ripe with them. Piano, strings, synths, guitar, drums, gospel choir…it is a BIG record, and I ain’t mad about it. The dense arrangements could be too much at times, but they are undercut but Lee’s rakish, imperfect vocal performance, which often sounds like a drunken man on the brink of tears. Perfect.

Flames & Figures –The Seshen

Don’t worry; I’m not going to just give you sad bastard music. It’s time for a little homegrown soul, at least, homegrown in the Bay Area that is. The Seshen is the musical marriage between singer/lyricist Lalin St. Juste and producer/bassist Akiyoshi Ehara. St. Juste, Ehara, and five other band mates churn out the synth-pop, R&B soul jamz I’ve grown to love this year.

Flames & Figures is a syrupy, textural pop gem that doesn’t skimp on well-placed drum machines and synths – but nothing tasteless or in your face here. Favorite tracks include “Spectacle,” “Periphery,” and the funky “Distant Heart.” Pour it on.

Along a Vanishing Plane –Christopher Tignor

Christopher Tignor, the acclaimed violinist and composer behind Along a Vanishing Plane, achieves his unique sound through varying techniques with tuning forks and electronic manipulation. His music is spacious, emotive and contemplative. So when I learned he is also a software engineer, I was a bit surprised.

Then again, maybe it makes all the more sense. There is something so deliberate and organized about Tignor’s music, despite its space. “Artifacts of Longing Pt. 1” reminds me of a pared down Dirty Three number – awash in refined synths, that is. Closing track “The Will and the Waiting” is closer to Tangerine Dream with glittering, atmospheric synth effects and the *ping!* of Tignor’s beloved tuning fork. A striking record that would be best played when you have time to really sit and listen.

Changes –Charles Bradley

Charles Bradley is a man that, like his late label mate Sharon Jones, has challenged industry ageism, starting his career at an age well past most. Unfortunately, Bradley also bears a more frightening similarity to Jones: in October of this frustrating (dumpster fire?) year, he was diagnosed with cancer. But that hasn’t stopped him from sharing his phenomenal, soul revival record Changes, which seems to embody all of the wisdom Bradley has amassed in his years outside of the spotlight.

The title track is tragic, even more so as it was released seven months prior to Bradley’s diagnosis. “I’m goin’ through changes/It hurts so bad,” he wails. It upsets the ear and the heart to hear, as the dramatic irony of the painful change to come is too intense. A beautiful, soul-bearing effort from a man I hope will stick around a while.

Love Yes –TEEN

How could we resist a little local love for the ladies of TEEN? If any of you have seen this adept foursome live (perhaps at an Audiofemme event), you will know what fabulous musicians they are. But their prowess doesn’t end with musicianship; they are also exceptional performers and complex songwriters who understand as much about writing hooks as they do constructing dense music.

Love Yes did get some thumbs up this year from the likes of Nylon and Pitchfork (to name a few), but I would go so far as to say it is one of the under-noticed records of 2016, and it is definitely deserving of more praise. This electro-pop opus nods at the ‘80s but doesn’t drown in references. A favorite track is “Animal” for its grimy, Tubeway Army-esque synth riff that will surely stay stuck in your head until 2017.

EPs

Eskota – Catch Prichard

Watching the slow yet steady rise of Catch Prichard’s Sawyer Gebauer (FKA
Brittsommar) has been both gratifying and frustrating. Having championed his music for the past two and a half years, it was rewarding to see his first EP as Catch Prichard accrue praise from publications other than ours alone. Noisey, Impose, and American Songwriter were just a few who took note of his unique sound. But despite Gebauer’s upward mobility this annum, the Wisconsin-born troubadour remains largely unknown. And that’s a darn shame, because I’ve yet to find a soul unstirred upon hearing “Eskota,” the sorrow-washed meditation on love, loneliness and the impermanence of home.

While Gebauer had largely looked to European influences in the past, he found his country-lovin’, Americana roots in “Eskota,” which was recorded in an abandoned general store in a west Texas ghost town. Pedal steel, brushed snare, and late Springsteen era synths dance under Gebauer’s lead weight baritone throughout. An under-sung stunner for sure.

Tunnel Vision On Your Part – Happyness

It’s no secret that I’m a massive fan of London trio Happyness. So when they popped out a new EP this year, I was flat out thrilled. I was slightly bummed it wasn’t an LP (which they are working on currently, by the way), but Tunnel Vision On Your Part doesn’t disappoint, despite its length. Clocking in at a curt twenty minutes, Tunnel Vision reminds me that an EP can be a beautiful lesson in brevity. Much like a short story or novella, ya gotta pack a lot more into 5 songs. There’s no space, no meandering instrumental track, no filler.

If I had to be just as brief describing Happyness, I would say they are three things above all. Subtle, understated, and catchy-as-all-hell. I guess it’s no surprise that a band so understated would go under-noticed throughout the year, but it pains me, because sometimes the most interesting people at the party are the shy ones, hardly saying a word. The most interesting person is rarely the loud guy dancing shirtless – but he seems to get all the attention anyway.

Earrings Off! – Adult Jazz

Earrings Off! is rife with difficult moments that fill me with unease. Therefore: I love it! And it seems as though I’m on the right track with that reaction. As Adult Jazz’s vocalist Harry Burgess said to The Guardian in 2014, “When you come up with a part that’s pretty, you need some obstruction…technology is good for shifting things to a more awkward place.”

I find great comfort in that awkward place, so thank you Adult Jazz. I have no idea where to shelve this little oddity, but that’s partially what I like about it. This twisted cacophony from the Leeds foursome contains multitudes, and can be described with just as much. A pop assault. Combat funk. A no wave, free jazz, synth-psych freak out that marries Arthur Russel, tUnE-yArDs, Dirty Projectors, and Animal Collective, but puts them all on speed. It’s a wild ride, and I suggest you hop on.

Don’t Call Us We’ll Call You – Dickicker

Don’t be fooled by the silly name (and album cover) – the nascent New York foursome may not have access to a gilded studio, but they certainly have the songs. One might not expect a band called Dickicker to be capable of sophisticated lyrics, and yet the writing partnership between lead vocalist Jim Freeman and guitarist Gray Hurlburt is an alchemic one. Often simple in their banal frustration, poetic truths drift in unexpectedly. In the EP’s opening cut “Alibi,” Freeman strains his hoarse voice while ruminating on past ambitions shattered:

“Going to the place we know/To dig up everything we sowed/Turn the soil over, let the water boil over/And burn the precious things we’ve grown.” Freeman has a phlegmatic scream that amplifies the palpable devastation in tracks like “Old Soul” and “Black Wine.” I’d hate to know how many cigarettes he’s smoked to acquire such a voice. But I want one just listening to him.

Big Fugitive Life – Ezra Furman

So far I have loved everything Ezra Furman has recorded. No amendment to that love given his latest EP Big Fugitive Life. This energetic collection of rock n’ roll tunes is a sweet seventeen minutes, packing in as much saxophone as possible. Furman’s voice is lovably shabby as usual, and at times (see: track five, “Splash of Light”) it seems that the band opted for a less-produced effect intentionally.

But Big Fugitive’s ragged nature doesn’t demean the richness of its songs. And that is a truth applicable to all music; that no matter the quality of the recording, you can’t rob a well-written song of its greatness.

ONLY NOISE: The Ethos of Ezra Furman

It takes a lot of balls to wear a dress. Shit, I have a hard time with it, and I lack the pesky external organ complicating the endeavor to begin with. However, Ezra Furman’s ballsiness goes far beyond his ability to look excellent in a miniskirt. And he does look excellent.

The Chicago native has been on the music circuit for over eight years now, but has just begun to make international waves since the release of his 2015 LP Perpetual Motion People last spring. PMP was Furman’s inaugural release on the acclaimed Bella Union label, and its positive reception has had him touring extensively, including a few dates we covered in New York and a set at Glastonbury earlier this summer.

Backed by his band, the Boy-Friends, Furman’s sound is unlike anything else on the current scene. It is rock n’ roll at the end of the day, but a translation incorporating a love of everything from doo-wop to Lou Reed to the Replacements. The strength of Furman’s frenetic, wavering rasp and saxophonist Tim Sandusky’s screeching melodies truly distinguish their sound from contemporaries.

Recently, Furman has released a lone single off of his upcoming EP Big Fugitive Life, which will be out August 19 on Bella Union. “Teddy I’m Ready,” the EP’s first track is an absolute anthem, pairing thundering drums with delicate guitar builds, cooing harmonies, and of course, the requisite sax licks. It is a ballad that suggests Furman has stadium potential.

The EP itself is actually a collection of “orphaned songs,” as Furman put it in a press release. He continues to explain the relevance of this particular selection of work:

“They are focused on the theme of the mind unmoored–those of us who have been left to drift unsupervised through the modern world. Four of these tracks were originally intended for inclusion on ‘Perpetual Motion People’. Two of them were for ‘The Year of No Returning’. But they weren’t ready until now.

The first three songs are our vision of rock and roll. A madness that overtakes your mind and body. It’s wanting to go somewhere you’ve never been, knowing you’re on your way. The second side is acoustic guitar as open wound, a troubled mind on display. Emotional in a different way, tender like a bruise. It includes “The Refugee,” my first song entirely concerned with my Jewish background and present, a song dedicated to my grandfather who fled the Nazis as well as to all of the refugees desperate for a home today.

We dedicate this record to refugees of all kinds, all over the world. May all the wanderers find the homes they seek, and and may those with power welcome them as fellow citizens of humanity.”

It may have been while reading these words, in simply reading a press release, that something finally clicked for me regarding Furman: this is an artist who actually gives a shit. Pop culturally speaking, we’ve long been on hiatus from making political statements. Irony has pervaded, the urge to be nonchalant and, god help me for saying it, chill has been rife, and it’s still pretty rare for an independent artist to speak in earnest about the sort of topics Furman tackles. A few of those being, but not limited to:

Gender Identity/Body Positive Issues

In a beautiful piece that Furman wrote for The Guardian last year, the artist explains the struggle he’s faced understanding his own sexual orientation and gender identity. He credits musicians like Bowie, Lou Reed, Antony Hegarty, and Grace Jones (to name a few) for helping him accept his own ambiguity. He elaborates on his current state of pleasant uncertainty:

“The full list of musicians who don’t conform to traditional gender roles, of course, would be nearly endless, and more and more appear every year, whether by debuting their work or coming out as trans or gender fluid.

Over the past few years, I’ve added myself to this list, performing more and more often in clothing, makeup and jewellery traditionally intended for women and girls. I’d like to set the record straight (so to speak): this behaviour is not just part of an onstage persona, nor is it a gimmick to get people’s attention. Gender fluidity is very much a part of my life offstage, though I am still exploring what it means. I’ve not quite decided on a gender identity, I may never decide, and that’s all right with me. I am proud to exist in an ambiguous, undecided state.”

Mental Health

Furman has been equally open about his struggles with mental health and depression since the inception of his career. Perpetual Motion People comes with a lengthy letter from Furman, admitting a very dire time he faced after graduating college. He goes into detail about a period of time when he wanted to kill himself, and then leads the reader out of that darkness into his recovery, sharing a long poem called “FOAM FACTORY” directly after. It seems as though whatever difficulty Furman has grappled with in the past, he wants to share it, and he wants to be a device in the healing of others afflicted with similar issues. And that’s no small thing.

Social Unrest

Before he signed with Bella Union, Furman was still churning out an admirable amount of material, some of it highlighting admirable topics. Shortly after the shooting of Michael Brown in 2014, Furman released the song “Ferguson’s Burning” to exhibit his solidarity with the Brown family, which goes thus:

When the fires burn out/And the tear gas disperses/When the work is all done/For the doctors and the nurses/The cops may stop shooting/And the street get less wild/But Michael Brown’s mother/Will never get back her child/And the hatred and fear/That America harbors/Will only grow bigger/Beneath big body armor/So keep a close eye on our laws and our leaders/No justice for Mike Brown/There’s none for you either

Ferguson’s burning/And the world’s turning away/Turning away

It isn’t too often that you come across an artist like Furman. He is swiftly becoming much more than a musician – he is becoming a movement – a fully rigged artistic piece complete with a mission statement. A truly unique songwriter, performer, and character, one of the best things Furman leaves one with is a sense of confusion.

When I think of Ezra Furman, my music critic reflexes always ask: “Who can I lump him in with? What trend did he sprout from?” But there is no answer. He is not the last cry of the folk-revival scene, or the latest electro-pop outfit, or another fucking “dream pop” act. He is, undeniably, Ezra Furman. And he’s not going anywhere.

CMJ 2015: Ezra Furman

Ezra Furman was all over CMJ this year. I was lucky enough to see him twice-once at a matinee showcase for Brooklyn Vegan, and again at a headlining spot at The Knitting Factory. I’ve always felt like seeing a band more than once in a short span of time is like hearing a the same joke back to back-you get to see if it really holds up, or whether it was never all that funny to begin with.

To stick with the simile: Ezra Furman is a fantastic joke.

Both of his sets were almost entirely different. I only heard one or two repeat songs and even those were performed with little idiosyncratic tweaks in delivery or time signature. One thing that did stay constant was the quality of the gigs. Much like Furman seems incapable of writing a bad song, he also can’t manage to play a boring show. I guess there are things it’s good to be bad at after all.

Ezra Furman is often labeled a new act, but he’s already got a decent sized catalogue to pull from while performing. Several albums deep in his career, he still plays from many of them, which is both convenient and wonderful because, well, they’re all great records.

His latest release Perpetual Motion People however, seems to be the one that’s finally getting him noticed internationally (including by the godfather of punk himself, Iggy Pop.) I first heard the record on BBC 6 Music and knew Furman was something special straight away. PMP zips from folk to punk, doo-wop to soul, and is never scant on infectious pop licks. It’s not an easy sound to define, but neither is Furman the man – and I’m starting to think he likes it that way. Many of his lyrical themes involve sexuality and gender identity, or as he put it last Wednesday night before introducing “Body Was Made” at Knitting Factory, being “body positive.”

Despite Furman’s flamboyant appearance – he’s rarely without his pearls and red lipstick – he is an endearingly shy performer. As a fan shouted, “I love your shoes!” he coyly looked down and whispered, “thank you” off mic. At the Brooklyn Vegan showcase he fawned: “Aw look at all you, standing there, you’re all so cute just standing there. Look, I’m infantilizing you for personal gain because – well, I’m really uncomfortable.”

Yes, Ezra Furman certainly is a strange one. And we wouldn’t have him any other way.

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

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 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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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)

LIVE REVIEW: Ezra Furman @ Rough Trade

“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 People on 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.

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