Tag: Girl Band

Ganser Teams Up with Indie Rock Veterans for a Daring Remix EP

Photo Credit: Kirsten Miccoli

Chicago post-punk quartet Ganser transcend genre with their five-song remix EP Look at the Sun, which dropped on Felte Records May 6. Using tracks from their 2020 LP Just Look at That Sky, artists Bartees Strange, Sad13 (Sadie Dupuis of Speedy Ortiz), GLOK (Andy Bell of Ride), Algiers, and Adam Faulkner (Girl Band) showcases indie rock’s range while building on the chaos and disillusionment of the source material.

Ganser is Alicia Gaines (vocals, bass), Nadia Garofalo (vocals, keyboards), Brian Cundiff (drums), and Charlie Landsman (guitar): moody rock n’ rollers indebted to bands ranging from Sonic Youth to Durutti Column. Their name comes from a mental health condition where a person apes the signs of a physical or mental illness without “really” being sick. Unsurprisingly, the group is at their strongest exploring that gray area between seeming and being unwell. Gaines describes them as an “inward facing” band.

In the ultimate unplanned irony, Just Look at That Sky—a meditation on times of uncertainty—went live on July 31 of last year. The cover is a matte goldenrod with a circle cutout revealing a black and white photo of a woman’s face. She’s wearing circular glasses that feel both high-fashion and nautical—almost goggle-like. In the reflection are two towering buildings. All the promotional material show the record against what reads like an ’80s vacation photo of ocean expanse.

It feels both serene and uncanny, both for the endlessness of the waves and how the image sits rendered in time. Against the water, the yellow reads like a geometric diving helmet pumping oxygen to the woman as she… swims toward somewhere unfamiliar? says goodbye as she plunges into water? observes at a gentle, bobbing remove? It’s worth noting Gaines—who handles the band’s artwork—is an award-winning graphic designer.

Yes, an emerging act delivered something that promised to be an existential puzzler when racial and economic tensions exacerbated by the pandemic were especially palpable. This strongly lured some while repelling others, making the album a sleeper hit that wasn’t much championed until end-of-year lists arrived. The music itself is familiar without feeling derivative—a heady cloud of the most swaggering punk bands and indie acts from the past 40 years. What did cigarette ads used to say about filters? “All of the flavor gets through.”

With two women sharing vocals in the band—one of whom is Black—it’s easy to be tempted to use identity as the primary lens for examining Ganser’s music. We’re in a cultural moment where so much art from marginalized creators is evaluated based on how affirming it is to people who reflect the creators’ identities—or how instructive it is for everyone else. But Just Look at That Sky isn’t about the unique experience of identity; it’s ’90s-heavy art rock about collectively feeling uneasy—not how any one individual arrives at that emotion so much as what it’s like being there. As Mia Hughes noted in Clash magazine: “It’s perhaps a political record, but only as far as our lives are political.”

Ganser is a mix of art school alumni, service workers, and freelancers. Some are Jewish, some are queer. They’re all millennials who’ve survived two recessions, and since the pandemic they’ve suffered personal and professional losses because of COVID-19. When it comes to capturing unease, each member has a lot of reference material, to say the least.

“Half of art is being able to tell a good joke,” explains Gaines. “The joke’s not always funny, but it’s about framing or contextualizing it so it lands. That’s the only way I can think to describe it. Post-punk is getting narrowed down to a very small little box of dudes shouting and trying to, like, out Nick Cave each other. I consider us art rock because, to me, art rock’s aim is to be amusing to the people that compose it. It forces listeners to think about how we got to the punchline.”

On Look at the Sun, the punchline doesn’t change so much as get rearranged. Looking at the sun is honing in on one piece of the sky. It can mean basking in the day’s glow as much as burning your retinas, and that tension is what this EP captures. The most compelling tracks are “Bad Form (Sad13 Remix)” and “Self Service (Adam Faulkner/Girl Band Remix),” which lend a haunting dreamlike quality to songs about feeling surrounded by people who ask for too much while giving little in return.

But the standout is “Told You So (Algiers Remix).” The song opens with an eager drum rhythm appropriate for a seventies car chase. In comes a distorted clip of art historian John Berger reading from his approach-defining classic Ways of Seeing: “To be naked is to be without disguise. To be on display is to have the surface of one’s own skin, the hairs of one’s own body, turned into a disguise which cannot be discarded.” Then abolitionist Angela Davis says: “Revolutionary hope resides precisely among those women who have been abandoned by history and who are now standing up and making their demands heard.” 

The beat jolts forward, and in rushes Gaines’s voice—once languid and resigned, now reverberating with a dismissive, dance-y confidence. The song has an energy like DJ Keoki’s “Speed Racer” (minus all the sex jokes, plus mega cool-girl mystique). While Ganser is not a “political” band—that is, they don’t typically address politics head on through their music—the new introduction reframes lyrics like “Onwards and upwards/Almost gone/It’s nothing like dying/Nothing like me.” The words sound less self-pitying and more self-righteous, necessarily confrontational in a way that’s exciting and free.

If you follow Ganser on Twitter, you know that’s who they are at their core, but it doesn’t always translate to their music. That Algiers emphasizes this isn’t as much a revelation as a “HELL YES, THANK YOU!” Until the pandemic, Ganser was slated to tour with them. Hearing this track, it’s easy to imagine the raucous magic they would’ve brought to a shared stage.

“Before the world stopped, we were running around a million miles a minute,” explains Gaines. “We didn’t have time to wonder, like, ‘Why aren’t we getting booked for more support tours? I guess we have to keep trying. Or we suck.’ Once the album campaign started, we were getting in print magazines in the UK, but nobody would answer our emails back home.

“After a while, it was really jarring, but then it became pretty clear what was going on. We can’t help if people are intimidated by women expressing ugly emotions or intimidated by a Black person playing an instrument. I don’t know, I can’t read their minds. We’re just going to keep doing what we’re doing. We hide puns and jokes on our record. There’s a lot of layers. I guess people can just catch up.”

Chicago’s certainly there. Ganser might be the city’s best kept secret. The post-punk quartet recently won a donor-nominated Sustain Chicago Music grant. They’re headlining a nearly-sold out three day stint at the Empty Bottle, one of Chicago’s most taste-defining indie venues. In the Reader’s “Best of Chicago 2020,” they were voted audiences’ second favorite punk band (Rise Against took first, which I have MANY questions about). And in September, Ganser will make their Riot Fest debut. Not bad for a group whose sophomore release arrived in the middle of a public health crisis.

While the band is still coming into their own, their future should prove interesting. Is the rest of the world ready for such a promising powerhouse?

Follow Ganser on Facebook and Instagram for ongoing updates.

AF 2017 IN REVIEW: The Best Live Shows of 2017

Austra @Warsaw

This was my first show of 2017, unless you count sets by Janelle Monae, Alicia Keys, and Indigo Girls that dotted the Women’s March on Washington days prior. I may have been late to the game regarding Austra, a beloved Toronto band already two albums into their career, and it wasn’t even their music that first grabbed my attention. It was the striking artwork for their third record, Future Politics. On its cover, a woman leads a handsome mare, cloaked in Austra’s signature shade of red. As it turned out, the album was as slick and strong as its imagery.

I sought out this strength one night at Greenpoint’s Warsaw, where Austra moved the whole room to dance with abandon. Lead singer Katie Stelmanis was captivating, her soaring voice sounding miraculously better than on the record. If it weren’t for her obvious talents as a pop star, Stelmanis would have an easy time making it as a stage actor or Broadway diva. The band plowed through the new album’s heavy hitters like “We Were Alive,” “Future Politics” and “Utopia,” sprinkling older favorites throughout the set.

Just days after Donald Trump had been sworn in as the 45th President of the United States, Austra made the Warsaw crowd believe that if we sweat hard enough, we could construct our own utopia right there on the dance floor.

Girl Band @Saint Vitus

Girl Band, Dublin’s all-boy noise foursome, rarely leave the stage without first inciting a small riot. They’re one of the few bands I’ve seen that can touch something primal in audiences, waking them from their New York, no-dance comas. This spring show at Saint Vitus was no different. The crowd was a little rigid initially, but once Girl Band slammed into “Paul” off of 2015’s Holding Hands With Jamie we all went wild. Daniel Fox’s warbled bass line whipped us into a swirling frenzy. We attempted to scream along with lead singer Dara Kiley, but our sweat and thrashing limbs did most of the talking.

Perfume Genius @Brooklyn Steel

This gig was without a doubt my favorite live performance of the year – and I almost didn’t go. Audiofemme’s own Lindsey Rhoades, who could not make it that evening, asked if I would go in her absence. “Sure,” I said, having no clue of the treat in store. I’d listened to the record, and was of course proud of the Seattle band’s success being from Washington myself, but the sheer magnetism of PG mastermind Mike Hadreas blew me away. He slinked and slithered through each song, howling like a hellhound one minute and whispering like seraph the next. In those moments onstage, Hadreas seemed to be Bowie’s heir apparent. He certainly had a Ziggy Stardust-worthy outfit.

Blanck Mass @RBMA/Sacred Bones

It didn’t hurt that as Blanck Mass’ Benjamin John Power was whipping up beats, Björk was head banging by the PA system… in a hot pink clown suit. But even without Our Lady of Iceland publicly endorsing the set, Power’s gut rattling music had me enraptured. Power always performs in total darkness, giving shape and weight to his intense soundscapes. You can almost feel his songs wrap around you like a python beginning to squeeze. When he cued up “Please” – my #2 favorite song of 2017 – I suddenly understood what it’s supposed to feel like when you get the good MDMA. I’d only ever had the bad shit.

Aldous Harding @Park Church Co-op/Baby’s All Right

I saw Aldous Harding twice within a week at 2017’s Northside Festival. The first time was at Park Church Co-op in Greenpoint. Harding wore an all-white suit, conjuring the combined spirits of Tom Wolfe, David Byrne, and Jerry Hall. She was otherworldly, contorting her voice to reach the vaulted ceiling, then summoning it down low, to rattle the wooden pews we sat on.

The second time was at Baby’s All Right, a far less romantic locale. Still, Harding bewitched me with her strange posturing and mythological voice. As she sunk into the lovelorn depths of “Horizon,” I was near tears. I closed my eyes. I mouthed the words, “Here is your princess/And here is the horizon.” And then a sharp splat cut through the room. The crowd parted like the red sea, and there at the center was not Moses, but a 60-year-old, portly man, barfing all down his t-shirt. After a period of bug-eyed shock, Harding laughed and returned to her set. I went outside to breathe better air.

Bing & Ruth @Basilica Soundscape

There was so much to see at Basilica Soundscape this summer, and yet the first band that played on the festival’s opening night is what stuck with me the most. Bing & Ruth’s David Moore seemed to be painting with his piano keys, while the accompanying cellist and clarinet player extracted color from their own instruments. They invoked a staggering beauty that went unmatched for the remainder of the weekend, in my opinion. Bing & Ruth make music that’s incredibly difficult to describe, but I feel lucky I was able to hear and feel it in person.

Sean Nicholas Savage and Dinner @Baby’s All Right

This was not my first Sean Nicholas Savage rodeo, but it was by far the finest, largely due to opening act Dinner’s inspiring performance. Danish singer/songwriter Anders Rhedin knows how to work a crowd, and does so with a divine combination of goofball and deadpan tactics. He had us sitting on the ground like school children, clapping like a gospel choir, and dancing like disco wildcats. It was a nice round of cardio before Sean Nicholas Savage began his vocal calisthenics. We swayed for Dinner, but we swooned for Savage.

Diamanda Galás @Murmrr Theater

I couldn’t have imagined a better Halloween. After walking a mile through Fort Greene, squeezing past trails of children in Halloween costumes, candy spilling from their cloth sacks, I approached Prospect Heights’ Murmrr Theatre. The stage and pews were cloaked in red light, and the baby grand piano was the requisite black. It was a fitting atmosphere for Diamanda Galás, the singer, composer, and pianist I recently crowned as the Queen of Halloween.

Galás was bewitching. Her piano seemed to awaken the ghost of Thelonious Monk and Satan himself, while her voice was alight with several spirits; some crooning, some growling, some downright shrieking. Galás is a medium above all else, and this last Halloween, she seemed to communicate with other worlds.

Swans @Warsaw

This was another show I almost didn’t attend. I’d already seen these noise dinosaurs two summers ago, and didn’t plan on showing up for their goodbye gig at Warsaw last month. But when a good friend got the flu and offered up his ticket gratis, how could I pass? I got to the venue in time for a plate of pierogis and kielbasa, and through some fortunate twist of fate, had a pair of earplugs in my purse. This was a very good thing considering Swans were playing at decibel levels strong enough for sonic warfare. As Thor smashed his gong, I felt like I was inside of a tank as it unloaded ammunition. Even my feet were vibrating.

Animal Collective @Knockdown Center

Nothing could’ve prepared me for how mesmerizing Animal Collective’s set at Knockdown Center was a couple of weeks ago. The evening’s objective was for Avey Tare and Panda Bear to perform 2004’s Sung Tongs in full. I entered Queens’ Knockdown Center full of skepticism; how exactly, were they going to summon that wall of sound with just two dudes?

I still don’t know the exact answer to that question, but the task was accomplished. After ample fiddling by roadies (one of whom sported a biker jacket and looked like he was named Butch) the stage was set, and the travel-sized version of Animal Collective settled into their chairs. What transpired over the next hour plus was a village of sound supplied by two men, four microphones, and some expert pedal work. Whatever their process was, it blew me away. I was wrapped in surround sound, every blip, crack, and whir massaging my body with the tiniest pulses.

ONLY NOISE: Creatures of Discomfort

A few nights ago at a bar, someone asked me a reasonable but difficult question: what do I want to experience when listening to music? What do I look for in a band? I floundered briefly, rattling off some vague declaration about placing a “good song” above any technical music ability.

“What do you mean, a ‘good’ song?” my interviewer prodded (this person is a reporter by day). “You can’t just say, ‘good’ song; obviously you prefer a ‘good’ song – but what makes a good song to you?”

Touché. I stewed over the question momentarily, thinking of other forms of art I’m drawn to; imagining the display of fleshy imagery covering the wall above my home desk – a collection many houseguests find revolting. Boobs, hairless cats, cadaverous feet, Hans Bellmer’s doll. Nondescript, pink perversions.

I thought about my lifelong gravitation towards objects and subjects of disgust; the numerous occasions my parents would come home from work asking what I was watching.

“Confessions of a Serial Killer: Jeffrey Dahmer,” I would reply, munching a Cheeto. My dad still recommends movies to me by saying, “We just watched this really depressing, fucked up film – you’d love it!” without an ounce of sarcasm. We also have a game in which we text each other when famous people die. First to text wins.

I considered my fondness for bitter, astringent, and blazing flavors; my love of rare and raw meat; my affinity for unsettling (but funny!) books.

Looking back at my inquirer, I delivered the most succinct reply I could muster:

“I just want to be assaulted,” I said.

Sonically assaulted, of course…but what does that mean?

Last year, while still working as a panty designer for a big company called, let’s say, Veronica’s Privacy, I found myself in need of a date night…with me. I scrolled through concert listings in search of something unexpected. If there was one thing I was not in the mood for that evening, it was “good old fashioned rock n’ roll.” I did not want dream pop, nor chill wave, nor beach wave, nor dream wave. I craved something dour and unpleasant, like ya do.

Sifting through gigs by Sunflower Bean and Shark Muffin, I paused on a vaguely familiar name: Glenn Branca. Where had I heard it? Something about the name commanded respect. Though I was mystified as to why, an air of provocation and intrigue hung around those two words. I bought a ticket immediately.

Taking a seat at The Kitchen in Chelsea, I glanced around. The only other solo-goers were middle-aged men who looked like they used to be in bands. Silver hair. Black Sonic Youth t-shirts. Sensible, manly shoes. Leather belts. The low stage was set with a drum kit, a bass, and three guitars. When Branca and Co. sauntered onstage not a word was spoken before they crashed into a belligerent wall of sound. Fumbling for my complimentary earplugs (courtesy of the venue), I felt bathed in distortion – baptized in cacophony. Discomfort. A hail of splinters. Railroad ties and metal siding. It was all being hurled at us – and we loved it. Were my concert mates likeminded gluttons for punishment? Did they too adore unlistenable, violent music at all hours, even in the wee, small, pre-coffee hours? I left The Kitchen feeling like I’d been in a boxing match – no – like I’d gotten the shit beaten out of me by a biker. Boxing is too clean and dignified a sport for how I felt. And yet there was another sensation spread all over me like cream cheese on a bagel: elation. For lack of a less annoying word: transcendence.

There are entire message boards full of people who want to be tied up for fun. Fetishists get shoved into bags, closets, vacuum-sealed plastic. For many, there is pleasure in physical discomfort. Factions of the sex accouterment trade cater to such needs. So what about auditory discomfort? Where be the cottage industry for audio-de-philers? (see what I did there?) Where is the safe space if you’re looking to be cleansed by rage and mayhem and high decibel levels?

I’ve certainly found my fix in Branca and his No Wave ilk – John Zorn, Steve Reich, and John Cage, to name a few. Then there is Girl Band, the Irish foursome I’ve been admiring for the past year. The Dubliners are fresh on my mind as I just saw them live a few nights ago and felt intoxicated after their antagonizing set. Screaming? Odd time signatures? Squealing guitar? Weaponized bass? Yes, please. Makes me all warm and fuzzy inside just thinkin’ about it.

Two nights ago I was speaking with an artist friend of mine. A brilliant photographer, she also curates at the Museum of Sex, and has a keen eye for the odd and outcast. “I’m always looking for art that is standing on the ledge and about to step off of it,” she said, her head bobbing over a goblet of frozen margarita at Dallas BBQ. I nodded in agreement, nursing brain freeze and thinking about why I’m so enamored of grotesque and furious things. Her mention of the “ledge” intrigued me. Is that where the fascination lies? Perhaps music and art that seems “out of control” is in fact the most controlled, as it assures us we can still keep it together while staring at the messiest aspects of humanity.

Girl Band is a prime example of this, in fact. The group’s singer Dara Kiley suffered an intense psychotic episode in the lead up to their debut release, Holding Hands With Jamie. Understandably, much of that record’s lyrical content was inspired by the event. You don’t have to listen closely to realize that Girl Band’s music sounds like a psychotic breakdown – or at least what you would expect one to sound like. If you’re drunk enough, sleep deprived, or maybe just malnourished, giving Holding Hands With Jamie a spin can make you feel like you are going crazy – but you probably aren’t. And maybe that’s the amazing thing – that someone like Dara Kiley can survive psychosomatic hell and then channel his agony into an unconventionally beautiful record with the help of bandmates. Perhaps some artists stand on the ledge, so we don’t have to.

LIVE REVIEW: Girl Band @ Saint Vitus

It’s been a year since I last saw Girl Band, and I’m a bit more prepared this time around.

Boots: check.

Pulled-back hair: check.

Pre-show snack: check.

Purse-less. That’s the big one. After getting caught in a swirl of flailing bodies at their last New York gig, I’ve consolidated my belongings into a jacket instead.

Phone. Gum. Tiny notebook.

Wallet. Keys. Tiny pen.

Advil. An appetizer amount of rage – just enough for dancing.

It’s not a daily anger I’m bringing to Saint Vitus, but a squirrel’s store of frustration easily disposed of after one of Girl Band’s sets. But that catharsis is contingent on one thing: will there be jumping? As the Irish four-piece crash into their first song, I am not so sure. The sold-out crowd is motionless, justifying the worst of New York audience clichés. Even Girl Band seemed on the “mellow” side, whatever that means for an a-melodic noise group. Had I prepared too much? Was I holding an umbrella on a dry day? I felt a bit stupid, sweating in a heavy, overfilled jacket while other women wore lightweight shirts and clutched purses, visibly more comfortable than I.

One, three, five songs passed. Lead singer Dara Kiley guzzled water as the representative Irish audience members heckled lovingly, shouting highly original material such as “IRELAND!” and “Come on IRELAND!” I was beginning to worry I’d suited up for nothing, and that my little supply of ferocity would dissolve into its truer state: hangriness.

What I’d forgotten about is Girl Band’s ability to leverage potential energy throughout their sets. Despite their untethered sound, Girl Band are not chaotic. They approach their performances with surgical precision, exuding more focus than blind fury. Like EDM mega DJs, they conduct the pulse of the room with each song – knowing exactly when to break it down, stretch a measure, and drop the beat like an anvil from 12 stories up. I suddenly remember this as the band break into a patch of new songs, which are structured far more like deep jungle techno cuts than noise punk thrashers. One is purely instrumental; with a driving drum rhythm that demands movement. Bassist Daniel Fox and guitarist Alan Duggan practice maximum restraint as they advance and recede in volume – something that whips us into a bit of a state. We are dancing. It is not enough, but it is all part of the plan.

Anticipation. Swans have volume; The Flaming Lips have props; Girl Band has anticipation. Feeding off the frenzy of a crowd primed for a unanimous tantrum, they know precisely when to strike with the big guns. So when they burst into “Pears For Lunch” off of 2015’s Holding Hands With Jamie, the vibrating build-up of tension bursts into kinetic energy. The jumping and shoving ensues.

If Girl Band were once taken to task for not actually being girls, then their use of the word “band” might also be questionable. If a band plays songs on instruments, what does Girl Band play? Are their records made of songs? Or riots? Are they playing their instruments? Or assaulting them? Arguably only drummer Adam Faulkner is approaching his instrument in a “traditional” way, while Duggan and Fox manipulate theirs; Fox making a slide guitar of his bass with a beer bottle, and Duggan beating his guitar like a drum. Even Kiley would be ill-described as a “singer,” as he often utilizes his serrated scream rhythmically. I can’t help but notice this calculated nature of theirs on stage; it has become all the more apparent now that the crowd has burst into unruly motion.

The last three songs are blood-boilers; we are fiendishly pleased when Faulkner strikes the opening beat to “Lawman.” By now I am steeped in sweat, attempting to regulate my breath between verses like a swimmer I saw on TV one time. I’m probably doing it wrong. After a stabbing six minutes of “Lawman,” Girl Band launch into “Paul,” and my suspicion that they were saving the most incendiary tracks for last is confirmed.

Perhaps Girl Band have mastered a kind of regimented wrath; micro-dosing with madness. Their work is an example of what anger can achieve when it is sharpened to a fine, sparkling point. Freud called it sublimation, but for Girl Band it is merely the creative process. As they arrive at their final song, Kiley thanks the crowd. The quartet rip into “The Cha Cha Cha” – a 29-second, distorted shout storm. A bite-sized bit of rage.

ONLY NOISE: All The Rage

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High school. The quivering minutes before debate class. Perspiring and wobbly at the thought of blurting my tenth-grade arguments to a room full of…seniors.

There was only one way to properly cull my nerves before a debate: get furious.

While anger might make some frantic and unhinged, it has long been a friend of mine. Though I may never have realized its cathartic, downright productive abilities had it not been for debate class – and the horror of public speaking as a high school kid.

“Make me mad!” I would goad my classmate, Kim, moments before the great Bloom v. Luker debate of 2006, regarding the legitimacy of the Iraq War (guess which position I took).

“How? What should I say?” my sweet classmate would ask, utterly baffled.

“Talk about what a wonderful president George W. Bush is. Say Evangelical Christian stuff – like how homosexuals are going to burn in hell.”

Kim didn’t become any less confused, but I won that damn debate. Most of the damn debates, for that matter. But had it not been for that little boost of fury, I’m not so sure I would have.

Long has anger been a stigmatized emotion – more so for women than men, unfortunately. What is an incensed woman to do when she is told for decades that 12 Angry Men look like passionate, dutiful citizens, but one angry woman looks like Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction?

For the better part of my life, I’ve had an alchemic relationship with anger. What many saw as an unpleasant reaction, I viewed as a primal tool made for navigating the world differently. Getting amped up on adrenaline before debate class didn’t make me an irrational font of diatribe – it calmed me, gave me clarity, and the steadiness of a well-wielded scalpel. After discovering this effect, I naturally found a companion in angry music.

But what does “angry music” mean? I’m not exclusively implying topical music, like the Regan-era politico-punk of Dead Kennedys (though it is all the more relevant these days). What I find significantly more purgative is music that embodies wrath in sound alone – that weaves an aural tapestry of rage. The aggressive guitar symphonies of Glenn Branca’s The Ascension come to mind, as do the sparse yet sinister pieces from George Crumb’s Black Angels album. These records show emotion rather than speak of it, and while anger may not have been the impetus for behind them, it is how I appropriate the work.

Branca’s compositions in particular, especially when experienced live, create an all-consuming force field of sound that overwhelms in a similar way to being bathed in outrage. His incredibly loud, distorted and relentless cacophony of guitars verges on sounding stressful…but in a good way? And yet, after confronting that taxing sensation for a good hour: tranquility ensues.

For quite some time I figured that this off-brand “enlightened” reaction was solely an attribute of my own idiosyncrasies. Perhaps it was a fucked up feature of my being. I’m the person who considers The Exorcist to be one of the greatest movies of all time, after all. I was the kid who would watch tacky, History Channel documentaries on unsolved murders and serial killers after school. Maybe my relationship to anger and its musical spawn was messed up, even unhealthy.

But then, science rushed to my defense! In spring of 2015, Australia’s psychology school at the University of Queensland published a study entitled; “Extreme Metal Music and Anger Processing,” which countered the longstanding assumption that listening to “angry music” increases the listener’s level of anger. The researchers conducting the study found 39 “extreme music listeners aged 18-34,” who were “subjected to an anger induction, followed by random assignment to 10 min of listening to extreme music from their own playlist, or 10 min silence (control).”

The study found that “hostility, irritability, and stress increased during the anger induction, and decreased after the music or silence. Heart rate increased during the anger induction and was sustained (not increased) in the music condition, and decreased in the silence condition.”

The researchers concluded that “extreme” music does not in in fact stoke extreme behavior or delinquency in listeners. “Rather,” as their report claims, “it appeared to match their physiological arousal and result in an increase in positive emotions. Listening to extreme music may represent a healthy way of processing anger for these listeners.”

Finally, there was a demonstrable argument for my fascination with one of our most feared emotions. I no longer feel the need to explain to people why I am unlikely to bop around to the Go-Go’s when in a foul mood. It seems more fitting to thrash around to Merzbow, or Girl Band, or Throbbing Gristle.

I mention all of this, in part because I find it inherently interesting; my fascination with the link between music and mood isn’t going anywhere. But I also mention it in the hopes of arousing the reexamination and repurposing of a sentiment that is so prevalent today. Last week I spoke about how Dresden Dolls’ Amanda Palmer feels that “Donald Trump is going to make punk rock great again,” which would be a function of channeling our collective fury into an art form – something that humans are pretty good at doing.

So as we get closer to inauguration day, and to the nationwide marches in resistance of it, I hope we can remember that anger isn’t always such a bad thing. I hope we can remember that when focused and sharpened like a fine, diamond point, our anger can split the awaiting air, and get us to our destination sooner. Despite what those in power would like to convince us of: anger does not mean violence, just like angry music does not mean delinquency.

Don’t be afraid of your own rage.

 

ARTIST INTERVIEW: Girl Band

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A friend recently mentioned something that’s never occurred to me before.  He said that making music requires an enormous amount of restraint.  That, whether it be at the songwriting or recording stages, holding back is of utmost importance.

Restraint.  Patience.  Modesty.

These may not be the first words that spring to mind while listening to the screeching sprawl that is Girl Band’s music.  However, if you zoom in on their 2015 LP Holding Hands With Jamie, which was meticulously written and self-produced, you can hear the discipline.  It is a methodical record; each stab of guitar and gurgle of bass strategically placed to maximize discomfort.

That same level of focus was evident at Baby’s All Right last week, where our own Emily Daly covered the group’s rapturous gig.  The Irish foursome, comprised of guitarist Alan Duggan, vocalist Dara Kiley, drummer Adam Faulkner, and bassist/engineer Daniel Fox, were on point throughout, delivering a streamlined spike of rage in sound only.

At times, his feet obscured by heads in the crowd, Duggan looked as though he was kicking someone’s head to the curb.  Snapping at the waist and convulsing slightly against his own instrument.  Turns out, that’s just how he plays guitar.

But for all of their sonic violence, the guys in Girl Band are an amicable bunch.  I sat down with Duggan and Fox before the show to chat about concept albums, Glenn Branca, and a winking dog.

Audiofemme: It seems like people have finally come to grips with your sound. Have the horrible comparisons to grunge you’ve faced in the past stopped yet?

Alan Duggan: Yeah it’s finally stopped.

Daniel Fox: Yeah, like Pearl Jam references and stuff…

Oh! I didn’t see a Pearl Jam reference! It was a Nirvana reference I think…

DF: Yeah, it was a Nirvana reference.

Which is worse? I think Pearl Jam.

DF: Of course, Pearl Jam! I really like Nirvana. I hate Pearl Jam.

What are you guys currently working on?

AD: We’re just writing new music. Pretty much.

DF: Got some songs, yeah. We’re not going to play any of it today, (laughs) but uh, yeah we’ve got loads.

I know you guys have said in the past that techno/electronic music has been more of an influence than people might assume. What electronic musicians have been listening to lately?

AD: At the moment I actually haven’t listened to much techno in a while. I’ve been listening to a lot of Tim Hecker for ambient electronic stuff. That new Factory Floor song sounds pretty cool. It’s called “Yah.” They’re really cool. They’re on DFA Records. They’re from London. I think. But yeah just really good techno, kind of early techno sound. I don’t think they still have a live drummer, but they had a live drummer and weird guitar sounds-all very stylized as far as the visual aspect…I don’t know. They’re just really, really good.

That’s an area of electronic music that the mainstream doesn’t always grasp: that there are sects of it that are outside of just trying to make people dance…something more orchestrated than just “four on the floor.”

DF: I’ve been listening to early electronic music people. The BBC had a lab where they were basically figuring out how to do it, called “The Radiophonic Workshop.”  It was in the ‘50s. There was this woman Delia Derbyshire who wrote the theme for “Doctor Who.” So it’s all these weird like (makes space noises). A lot of those kind of people really set the tone for what ended up being electronic music. But there’s a lot that can be done with it as opposed to just dance music. It’s a whole sonic palette that people just associate with dancing, really. Which I always thought was weird.

Since you signed to Rough Trade and you started touring internationally, have things changed with your place in Dublin? Are you still accepted in the local music scene?

AD: Yeah, it’s always like a real warm welcome when we go back and play Dublin, you know what I mean? Ireland’s pretty supportive.

I know you guys produced this record, which sounds fantastic. Is there a dream producer you’d love to work with? Or do you think you’ll continue to do it yourselves?

DF: I like producing. I mean, it’d be cool to get peoples’ perspectives, but-

And you worked as an engineer, correct?

DF: Yeah. That’s what I do in my spare time. So yeah…sometimes working with a producer could be-especially for the first record, could probably be a hindrance really, to have to re-explain something…

It [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 record] would be covered in horn sections…

DF: Yeah, like a string orchestra.

I find that it rare that bands truly collaborate as a group, but it seems like every little detail has gone through everyone’s hands at this point. How do you guys write songs together?

DF: Sit in a room and hammer it out for ages.

For you guys personally, what were some of your earliest urges to make music? What brought you to it?

AD: For myself, all of my brothers were in a band. All of my family has always been really into music, so when I was a kid I used to sit down and watch them play, when I was about four or five, and just be like, “oh, that’s really cool.” They were real bad. They were terrible. They used to rehearse in my sitting room and face like they were playing a gig, so they wouldn’t even face each other, it was like real funny if I think back to it.

DF: They did it in the front room?

AD: Yeah, in the sitting room. But they’d set the PA up and face it out that way.

Oh, they had a PA?

AD: Yeah, it’s actually the PA that we use.

DF: It’s survived a long time.

AD: Yeah, cuz that would have been like, early nineties. It’s crap as well.

DF: It’s really not a very good PA.

(to Daniel) And what about yourself?

DF: My dad was a musician, like played bass as well, and I was around music a lot as a kid.

What aspect of what you guys do brings you the most joy?

AD: For me, I don’t really think it’s one – because you know usually you could be touring and it’s really, really fun, and you really enjoy it but-

I was wondering if someone would say touring because I don’t know if I’ve ever heard anyone say that.

AD: Oh, I love it.

DF: Yeah it’s a lot of fun.

But it sounds like it’d be a lot of fun, or like, really awful. Correct me if I’m wrong…

DF: Depending on the people.

AD: Yeah, if you’re with people that don’t get along I’d imagine it’s hell, but we don’t fight, we’ve never raised a voice to one another, so we work, we just kind of function really well.

DF: They all have their different perks. It’s like a meal, you know they all have their different things that are good about them. You know, like, touring you get drunk for free a lot, but then when you’re writing it’s like, writing songs is something fun, and then in the studio it’s just, it’s fun as well, so…

We’re supposed to negate the Irish stereotype. Come on!

(all laugh)

DF: Yeah, “get loadsa cans!”

That’s gonna be the header: “Get Drunk For Free.”

(all laugh)

What kind of milestones, or, maybe it’s just kind of an in-the-moment thing for you guys, but do you have artistic milestones that you want to achieve, that you strive for?

AD: I mean, I just wanted to put out a record that I was really proud of.

Well you did that. You’re done!

DF: Double album

(all laugh)

DF: I want the fifth record to be a double-

Concept?

DF: Yeah a double concept record. I just want to rip off Rick Wakeman and do one about Excalibur.

Oh yeah, and then like, it will be a pop-up in the center?

DF: Oh yeah.

AD: That would be pretty cool actually…

Just an idea. Just throwing it out there.  Your prog rock record, ha. I know I just condemned comparisons only a moment ago, but when I was listening to your guys’ stuff I was thinking: are you guys fans of Steve Reich or Glenn Branca?

AD: Yeah, big time.

Ok, I was thinking you must be.

AD: Yeah, hearing Steve Reich for the first time was a real kind of eye-opener, so that kind of just-

DF: “I can do one thing for ages…”

Glenn Branca?

AD: Yeah, that whole No-Wave scene in New York.

Yeah, he’s incredible. I saw his orchestra live a few months ago and he’s a real…I mean he’s kind of like a Tom Waits, he’s just a weird guy-

AD: Did you meet him?

Oh, god no! No I was just there, I didn’t cover it, but…what a weird dude!

Both: Yeah.

DF: (doing gravelly Glenn Branca impression) “I don’t participate!” (grumbling and cursing).

When they were tuning he just went on this rant about the best hot dog he’d ever eaten…

All: (uproarious laughter)

Anyway, just checkin’. I’m glad you guys are fans, me too. So, can you talk about the role of humor in your music? It seems like it’s something that’s very important to you guys.

AD: Yeah, just always like, I mean…Dara with the puns, I mean the guy can’t stop making puns all the-

DF: All day.

AD: All the fuckin’ day.

I read in an article that that’s a disorder.

DF: (big laughs)

AD: Interesting! But yeah humor’s very important. I always think humor is a very strong way of conveying a maybe very meaningful thing.

DF: Especially since some of this stuff is quite dark. Like the music’s so bloody angry sounding anyway, so it kind of like, negates that a little bit so it’s not just like, “I hate you mom!” you know?

I think I was reading something about when you did the KEXP performance you were like, “this is our poppy song!” which I thought was hilarious.

AD: Yeah, heh.

I listen to it, and I’m someone who listens to music that some people might deem “difficult,” and I hear a lot of melodic things in it…but I understand some people might not feel that way (laughs).

AD: Especially if you’re rehearsing, and then you’re touring it, and then you’re recording it, which is what we were doing, when it came time to put it out, you really lose context of how-

DF: Aggressive it might be.

AD: Yeah, we were like, “oh, this is a radio smash!”

Top Of The Pops! Another thing I picked up from an interview with DIY Magazine, was something about how on “Umbongo” you threw around some car parts and someone threw a spoon…

DF: (to Alan) you threw the spoon.

I tried to hear it today and…

DF: (laughs) It’s in there!

I don’t want to disappoint you by saying I couldn’t hear it, but I was trying…

DF: It’s buried in the mix.

AD: It was actually just like, a slam-dunk from across the room.

DF: Yeah we played parts of like, big huge springs…

Have you guys ever thought of going even further to create specific sounds? Maybe even building your own instruments?

AD: Yeah, definitely. We really want to try getting in touch with this guy called Yuri Landman. He’s built guitars for Lee Renaldo and…

DF: He’s a Dutch guy.

AD: Yeah, we played a show with him in Amsterdam, about two years ago now I suppose…but he built all these insane instruments, and he’s obsessed with noise. It is something that I think all of us would be really keen on doing. Like, Adam’s drum kit is very creative. He’s got loads of different cymbals like, stacked up on one another…that kind of stuff.

DF: Yeah, pipe cleaners…

Pipe cleaners?

AD: Yeah.

Like the fuzzy ones?

DF: No, no. Like, long springs (laughs).

Ohhh. Lastly, what do you both plan on doing, for leisure or work, when you return home?

DF: (to Alan) What are you going to do? Walk your dog?

AD: Yeah, probably walk the dog. I got a little puppy.

(gasps) what kind?!

AD: Uh, it’s a Collie cross. He’s quality. He can wink as well.

Really? On command?

AD: No, but soon though! Check it out…

It’s just a twitch…

AD: No, well, it is a twitch, but

DF: His dog is adorable.

 AD: It is a twitch but it will soon not be a twitch.

What’s the dog’s name?

AD: Boomers. Check that out: (shows winking dog pic) What a wink!

Oh muh lord. He is just always winking though…

AD: No he just-

That’s a moment you caught?

AD: Yeah.

He looks kinda badass when he does that.

AD: Yeah. This is him when he was just a little pup: (shows fluffy, adorable puppy pic)

(requisite squealing)

AD: He’s really cool. But he’s gettin’ a snip soon.

(to Daniel) And what about yourself?

DF: Me? Ehh, I have to mix a record for a guy when I go home.

Nice. That’s fun.

DF: Yeah, it’ll be very fun, because I thought I’d have it finished ages ago, and uh I don’t! (laughs) So I’m going to finish it when I get home.

 

Thanks gents, and safe travels back home.

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LIVE REVIEW: Girl Band @ Baby’s All Right

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I’ve recommended Girl Band to a few people who were skeptical before they even listened – because of their name. I understand, because I felt that way too. According to an interview with the Quietus, that’s intentional, as they admitted “it’s a stupid name” they came up with to annoy someone at a bar. There are some other implications the name applies, whether those are intentional or not. like, is four dudes calling themselves Girl Band an attempt at self-deprecation, a compliment to the female sex, or a statement on how gender can define a band? But their debut album Holding Hands With Jamie washed all those thoughts away in a wave of noise, and it no longer bothered me.

The only things that worried me before their show last Thursday at Baby’s All Right were if their live show would be comparable to the amazing chaos of their album (especially after they had to cancel their previously scheduled Brooklyn shows due to health issues), and that I had decided that the sold-out crowd was going to be one giant mosh pit.

I was wrong; most people stood totally still, fixated on what was happening onstage. “Ooh, I think this is what they call a noise band,” someone behind me said a few songs into the set. And yeah, that’s a good place to start if you’re trying to describe Girl Band. They are definitely noisy, Alan Duggan’s guitar sounds like a machine, and some songs like a musical car crash. For most of the show Duggan and bassist Daniel Fox were just two bowed heads of messy hair, elbows moving mechanically, while singer Dara Kiely kept his head upwards, directing his tortured lyrics in the form of shouts and howls towards the ceiling above him. In the middle of it all, drummer Adam Faulkner looked oddly serene. Though they’re intense, there’s a sense of humor buried under their music. This is especially apparent in their cover of “Why They Hide My Bodies Under My Garage,” which is basically its own genre of scary dance music. The only lyrics are the title of the song, repeated endlessly over an increasingly frantic techno beat until they lose all meaning. 

Holding Hands With Jamie is based on a psychotic episode Kiely went through, which is bold enough as the subject matter of an album, but something else entirely when they sing about it in front of you. It’s almost shocking to see someone bare their feelings like he does, briefly embodying insanity without totally becoming consumed by it. For a weirdo like me, watching Kiely dance around the edge of the abyss, looking in, and then reporting back on what he found was one of the best performances I’ve even seen from a frontman. I just wonder how he does it night after night.

Read our review of Holding Hands With Jamie here.

BEST OF 2015: The Year In Lyrics

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Words are pretty weird. One alone is easy to understand, almost impossible to misinterpret. But string a bunch of them together, and it gets more complicated (as well as beautiful, descriptive, romantic or hurtful). One line can make you remember a song forever, or dismiss it entirely. Out of all of the thousands, maybe millions of lyric that were recorded this year, here are some that stood out the most.

Father John Misty – “I Love You, Honeybear”

When a cynic finds love, they become an optimistic, cheerful person. Or, they recognize that “til death do us part” and “in sickness and in health” don’t quite cut it in a time of war, economic instability, and global warming. On I Love You, Honeybear, Josh Tillman examined many aspects of modern love, but none were as realistically romantic or sincere as on the title track: “But don’t ever doubt this, my steadfast conviction/ My love, you’re the one I want to watch the ship go down with.”

Hop Along – “Horseshoe Crabs”

On Painted Shut, Frances Quinlan wrote two songs about musicians that suffered breakdowns and faded into obscurity; one was the jazz cornetist Charles “Buddy” Bolden, and the other was the folk musician Jackson C. Frank. His first record was produced by Paul Simon, but his depression prevented him from pursuing a music career. “Horseshoe Crabs” is sung from Frank’s perspective. As well as being the first time I’ve heard of the songwriter, it contains what’s possibly my favorite line of 2015, which is beautiful, crude, sad and funny: “Woke from the dream and I was old/ Staring at the asscrack of dawn.”

Eagles of Death Metal – “I Love You All The Time”

The saying is that even bad press is good press, but no band wants the kind of publicity the Eagles of Death Metal received on November 13. Even sadder is the fact that the band is seriously passionate about and appreciative of their fans- I saw them play in Philadelphia this fall, and Jesse Hughes walked through the line of concert-goers waiting outside the venue, shaking hands and giving out hugs. “Now I know every one of you motherfuckers,” he proudly proclaimed later onstage. “I Love You All The Time” is actually a song about a man’s love for a woman despite her disinterest, but it happens to have a section of lyrics in French. After what happened at Paris’s Bataclan, and because the band has encouraged other artists to cover the song so they could donate the publishing rights to helping the victims, the line “I love you all the time” takes on a deeper meaning: the connection we have to music, no matter what else is going on in the world.

Girl Band – “Paul”

A lot of the lyrics on Girl Band’s Holding Hands With Jamie are indecipherable, though Dara Kiely’s delivery of the words contains more meaning than they ever could themselves. This is, after all, an album inspired by a psychotic episode Kiely experienced a few years ago. Though it may seem odd to include a song that is more understood in a more visceral way, one line from the middle of “Paul” has always stuck out: “How many bulbs does it take to screw a light in.” It sounds like the setup to a bad joke, but turn it around in your mind enough and it’s about the confusion and frustration of not being able to do something right. You’re trying and trying, but glass is falling down around you, and the light still won’t turn on. It’s kind of sad, yet somehow funny in the right state of mind, and that approach to such a heavy topic makes the whole album so amazing.

Shilpa Ray – “Burning Bride”

Burning brides after the deaths of their husbands is a banned Hindu practice, which was actually a scheme to ensure there was no one left for the husband’s wealth to go to except for the priests who carried out the ritual. On Shilpa Ray’s “Burning Bride,” the lyrics can also be applied to the oppression of women in modern times, challenging those who want to kill the spirit of a woman “Up dancing, ‘cause she’s wild” with the chilling line, “You’ll be lucky when she runs out of desire.”

Kurt Vile – “Pretty Pimpin”

It’s easy to lose yourself in Kurt Vile’s “b’lieve i’m goin down.” After all, you’re following the thoughts of a man who’s lost himself. This is clear from the first track, “Pretty Pimpin,” where though Kurt admits the man he sees in the mirror looks pretty pimpin’, he doesn’t recognize him. In this song, he’s lost track of time, and himself, but no one knows it but him: “He was always a thousand miles away while still standing in front of your face.”

Ava Luna – “Billz”

“I don’t care too much for money, money can’t buy me love.” That’s a cute song, but not very practical, and obviously not an Ava Luna song. Because while romance is nice, it’s still just a distraction from buying groceries, paying rent and staying alive. Love does have its own payoff, but it takes a lot of work to get there, and it won’t keep your heat on: “I’ve made up my mind, I will find one small moment and I’ll text you/ And I’ll fact-check every reference that I make, learn the language to impress you/ Cause I’m yours, and if you tell me that you’re mine, you’re the one I’m getting next to/ But our love ain’t gonna pay my bills.”

Krill – “Torturer”

2015 was a big year for Boston’s Krill. And then they broke up. If you’ve ever found yourself crying your eyes out to dumb pop songs after a breakup, you know that when something major happens, even the sappiest of lyrics can suddenly seem to apply to you personally. Krill didn’t play dumb pop songs, and their lyrics weren’t sappy, but at their last show ever, every word somehow seemed to point to the band’s eventual end. This was most obvious with “It Ends”(“It ends/ Same way it begins/ On a whim”), and a little more subtle in “Torturer,” a track where Jonah Furman has a conversation with a mysterious character (“I asked, what did you come here for?/ And you said, whatever you need me for”) before wondering, “Is it time to go back inside?”

Mini Mansions – “Death Is A Girl”

The title of this song is a dark, mysterious statement, perfect to drop as a piece of advice and then walk away with no explanation. But the real gem in the song is the line “You gotta live in a world where there’s only one day.” Living your life as if actions don’t have consequences can be freeing, dangerous. And it can be hard to tell which: “Death is a girl and she’s only one dance away.”

Destroyer – “Times Square, Poison Season I”

For someone that lives in New York, taking the line “You could fall in love with Times Square” out of context seems like a jab, a suggestion that you’re inauthentic and easily impressed with shiny things. When Dan Bejar prefaces it with “You can follow a rose wherever it grows,” it’s more of a suggestion to lighten up a bit, and a reminder that if you look hard enough, you can find beauty almost anywhere. Even if it’s just in the people that recognize it where you don’t.

PLAYLIST: Cassette Store Day 2015

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If you want a retro way to play your music, but you don’t have the space for a vinyl collection, Cassette Store Day just might be the holiday for you. Inspired by Record Store Day, Jen Long and Steven Rose created the event to “[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”][celebrate] the glory of tape.” This is the event’s third year, and on October 17th, a select number of record stores will be participating. Here are just a few of the best releases that will be out on tape.

Alex G – Beach Music

Alex Giannascoli is a lo-fi, laid-back songwriter from Philly. The next release in his body of self-recorded work is Beach Music, which will be out on 10/9. He was on tour while making most of this seventh record, forcing him to change up his songwriting process. The two tracks available now from Beach Music show his music is taking a more mature, complex direction.

https://soundcloud.com/dominorecordco/alex-g-salt-1

Baby – Comes Alive

Comes Alive by Baby is just as impressive for its content as the fact that it was “originally recorded, mixed, and released within about an hour; including a photoshoot and album cover.” Though all this happened quite awhile ago, it hasn’t been available for purchase until now. The band features Pat Goddard, Dennis Galway, and the deceased Tim Alexander- check out their track “Baby,” some seriously heavy blues music.

https://soundcloud.com/quagmire/baby-naked-from-baby-comes-alive-csd15

Beach Slang – Here, I Made This For You

The pysch-punk rockers Beach Slang have made a mixtape for Cassette Store Day, and while there’s no preview for it, if you like loud, shimmery rock with a hard edge you’ll probably be into it. Not so sure? Check out “Bad Art & Weirdo Ideas” from their upcoming album The Things We Do To Find People Who Feel Like Us.

 

Expert Alterations – You Can’t Always Be Liked

Baltimore’s Expert Alterations plays understated, jangly guitar pop. Check out the title track from their upcoming, debut album You Can’t Always Be Liked, which details the pain of growing up: “And when she talks of letters she cannot spell a single thing/ And when she talks of bells she doesn’t know how they ring/ And when she talks of people she doesn’t know that they are full of spite/ But she will learn one day you can’t always be liked.”

Girl Band – Holding Hands With Jamie

Holding Hands With Jamie is the debut album from the misleadingly-male, Irish group Girl Band (check out our review here).  The record will be available on 9/25, and features “Paul,” a disconcerting, intense track that erupts in noise and rage.

Sharkmuffin – Chartreuse

Sharkmuffin is a garage-rock band from Brooklyn that features guitarist Tarra Theissen and bassist Natalie Kirch. Chartreuse is their first album with drummer Patty Schemel (Hole, Death Valley Girls).  Check out the title track, which starts off with a sleepy, Hawaiian slide guitar intro and then morphs into their high energy, punk sound.

The Prettiots – Stabler

This Spring, the Brooklyn group The Prettiots were the subject of a New York Times article discussing the struggles of emerging bands who travel to SXSW. It looks like the expenses and hard work paid off, though. The trio, led by the ukelele-wielding frontwoman Kay Kasparhauser, played a Tiny Desk Concert this summer and are contributing their upcoming release Stabler to Cassette Store Day.

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ALBUM REVIEW: Girl Band “Holding Hands With Jamie”

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Holding Hands With Jamie by Girl Band is a beautiful mess, more musical noise than noisy music. Guitars squeal like pieces of metal screeching together in a car crash, the bass rolls up and down the fretboard wildly, and as well as some brief singing, vocals come in the form of screams, growls, shouts and intense monologues. There is structure, but it’s threatening to disintegrate at any moment. You’ll think you’ve identified a melody, only for it to come crashing down.

Whether singer Dara Kiely is remembering an encounter with a doctor who likes Abba on “The Last Riddler,” being honest about his vanity by drawling “I look crap with my top off” on “Pears For Lunch,” or vocalizing about something that isn’t quite intelligible but can be understood viscerally, every song on Holding Hands With Jamie is as riveting as it is challenging to listen to. However, the album’s standout track, possibly because of its weird, sad, disturbing and amazing video, is “Paul.” It starts with an ominous, surf-y bass line and relentlessly simple drums. Kiely seems to be talking himself in circles as the track builds and builds, until it can’t anymore and just explodes into the noise and feedback that’s been crackling in the background (As for the plot of the video, it’s better to just watch it than read about it).

If it sounds like the Irish rockers are on the verge of completely losing it at any moment, it’s on purpose. The album takes on an important context when you learn that it was inspired by the time leading up to a psychotic episode Kiely went through two years ago. Listening to Holding Hands With Jamie definitely feels like taking a break from reality, but Kiely remains in control the whole time. He’s admitted his inspiration for the album in interviews, so he’s obviously not ashamed of his past struggles, but he’s gone a step further by taking control of them, reframing them and sharing them on his own terms. The result can only be described as cathartic. And awesome. And noisy.

Holding Hands With Jamie is available now via Rough Trade; check out “Paul” below.

 

Burgerama Recap & Introducing: IAN

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Well, one of the most anticipated weekends this spring for the West Coast garage rock lovers has come and gone. Burgerama 4 last week has certainly exceeded it’s “hype.” Surrounded by a sea of (mostly) Californian sunbathed teens, I, as well as a few thousand others, discovered some great new artists and solidified my obsession for my favorites. As I mentioned a few weeks ago about who I was stoked to see- Burgerama’s lineup this years was a perfect mix between modern-day legends like Roky Erickson, Weezer, and Gang of Four, as well as over a dozen fresh bands like Girl Band, IAN, Palma Violets, Twin Peaks and so so many more. These bands are slowly remolding what it means to be a punk or garage band in 2015. 

One band that seemed to steer away from the “Burger-sounding” theme of the weekend was IAN. This Los Angeles/Boston based band had the relatively tough time slot of 2PM on the smallest of three stages on the first of the festival. Competing against popular acts such as the local-favorited Cosmonauts, and Together PANGEA – impressively, IAN had no issue packing out their room. Front woman, Jillian Medford, definitely knew how to grab the attention of the audience between her sassy stage banter and perfectly tuned yelp-type screech in between her guitar riffs. This past week I’ve had the chance to chat a bit with her,  and get the full scoop where IAN’s sound came from, as well as her opinion on the festival in general. 

AudioFemme: Ok so let’s get some background on IAN- where did ya’ll meet and how did you decide to collaborate?

Jillian: We all met at a house show in Jamaica plain, MA. At Whitehaus. I was playing a show with a different drummer at the time (just me and drums) and Tim, my current drummer came up to me after the show and asked if he could play bass for me! I was totally into it and the day we were all about to get together to play some tunes, my drummer at the time said he couldn’t commit to being in the band and going on tour… So I asked Tim if he would possibly play drums and could tour for two weeks.. Oh and if he had a working van… and he said yes to all of these and it was a match made in heaven. And later sweet Damien was added to the mix!

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Disposable of Jillian & Tim backstage at Burgerama
Disposable of Jillian & Tim backstage at Burgerama

AF: Wether it be an era, band or specific person, what would you say influences your sound most? 

JM: I look up to so many people, and feel that I mostly draw influence subconsciously. I very much adore Karen O., both in the Yeah Yeah Yeah’s and solo. My mom is also one of the biggest influences for me, although she doesn’t play an instrument she is such a creative, beautiful, intelligent and encouraging human being. The era I’m feelin’ most would be right now. I am currently and constantly surrounded by such driven people who are always willing to expose new ideas and embrace everyone’s strengths and weaknesses…this keeps me in check and also sometimes unchecked, but that’s probably for the best. You can’t always be a straight line. That would be so boring

AF: I love the raw and organic sound if your self-titled EP on your Bandcamp. Can you tell us a little about that recording process? 

JM: YES! So we recorded this EP in two days in August in a very hot, sticky and stinky Allston apartment with Mark Feede (who will be recording our full length). It was pretty insane thinking back to have recorded in just two days, but we were on a tight timeframe and budget! We just wanted to put something out that we could sell on our upcoming tour. Didn’t really realize it would resonate with people as much as it has on the first go round and that has been very special for us! We love to record live and together. Would hate to have to track instruments separately. it’s so rewarding to look at my boys rockin’. That’s the best part is when we can all face each other and just jump around.

AF: It was your first time playing Burgerama this year. Well… what’d you think? Were you as stoked as your crowd seemed to be?

JM: Burgerama was crayyyyzeeee!! We have played the Constellation Room before (where we played at Burgerama) and it’s definitely one of our top favorite places to play! The crowd is always so responsive and the place ALWAYS fills out completely. It’s shocking! And it’s mostly people who haven’t heard of us before, so it gave us a chance to hopefully win them over. I think the Burgerama show was the best show we’ve ever played. The crowd gives you so much you can’t help but lose your shit a bit. I hopped around so much during out set, the next day I was so sore I made Tim give me piggy back rides everywhere!

AF: Any bands that you had never seen or heard of before that you really enjoyed? 

JM: I hadn’t seen La Luz before and I am a huge fan! they put on a really rad set! Was really inspiring to watch! Also, a moment for Weezer and remembering when I was seven my babysitter would blast “We Are All On Drugs” on the way home from gymnastics practice… It was good to see Weezer, I know all the words thanks to her ha!

AF: Ian rules. Tell us about some future gigs/plans for ya’ll.

JM: We are now back In Boston for a few months after spending some much needed time in LA. We are out here now recording our album & I have to graduate from college in May, and we are also doing a lil tour round the Midwest/south with our buddies Kal Marks in June! We are trying to jam pack tons of fun stuff into our stay out here before we head back to LA to finish up the record there! Then after that….there’s a bunch goin’ on OH MY! So psyched!

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