Whistle the oriental riff intro to “Young Folks” in a public place, and it certainly will not go unrecognized. Swedish trio Peter Bjorn and John are a household name in the indie community, with their first taste of mainstream success coming from unforeseen traction in pop culture. I myself discovered the song during the first episode of Gossip Girl almost exactly nine years ago to date, but you might have been familiar from the old AT&T commercial, or from Kanye’s sampling on his Can’t Tell Me Nothing mixtape. But regardless of where and how you first heard it, the fact is, you know it, and it was an instant earworm.
Through the years, with three more well-received records, nothing ever hit quite as hard as Writer’s Block, thanks to that hipster whistle song, but that isn’t to say that “Young Folks” was the band’s only achievement, nor does it define Peter Bjorn and John’s sound and artistic vision. They’ve taken creative liberties in experimenting with darker tones on 2009’s Living Thing, and found themselves featured commercially again with “Second Chance”. The sustenance of their career shows that giving people a unique form of pop, one with emotional depth and true character in every track, is what they do best.
And now, five years after Gimme Some, the fans have something to talk about. Released on June 10th, the new record Breakin’ Point covers new ground and serves as a refreshing new taste for a band that seemingly disappeared. For the first time out of their seven records, the band worked with outside producers to churn out a true pop album. It took five years – they took their time with their goals – even with outside collaboration, the resulting animated sound is still unapologetically theirs.
Tracks throughout the album are adorned with the ever-familiar whistling, hearty piano, and upbeat synthesizers that aren’t entirely foreign to the band we knew from five-plus years ago, but now with a late-’70s pop flavor a la ABBA. (“We called ourselves ‘Dancing Kings’ for a couple of weeks,” said drummer John Eriksson.) Some tracks like the lead single “What You Talking About?” and “Domino” are heavier and more demanding, and “Do-Si-Do” quite easily instigates a crowd to move along. “In This Town” breathes out an ambience to slow the energy of the record without telling anybody to stop dancing.
Three revered names in indie pop made their presences known before a simple light display akin to a cross between an electrocardiogram and a music staff. You have the sharply dressed bassist Björn Yttling donning a blazer, while drummer John Eriksson took his seat behind the kit, standing out in a simple white baseball cap. Finally, lead singer and guitarist Peter Morén positions himself at the other end of the stage in what resembles a utility suit. All three are unified in their look with an array of the band’s patches on their navy blue outfits, as well as name tags – you know, in case you forgot who you were there to see.
Morén quipped that back in 2000, they signed a contract stating that if anyone left the band, they had to replace him with somebody of the same name. Fast forward sixteen years and seven records later, and Peter Bjorn and John are back with an even more danceable new sound that challenges the classic definition of pop music and conveys no less energy in the live show.
Peter jumped over the barrier of the pit early on to walk around the crowd during “It Don’t Move Me,” for a rock ‘n’ roll display – “I’m not a big fan of rock,” he says. “Rock ‘n’ roll, on the other hand, it’s kinda sexy.” – which set the tone for the etiquette of the evening: dance with complete disregard for the space around you, and don’t stop moving.
While this tour spotlights the most infectious pop tracks off the new record, Breakin’ Point, a taste of each of their previous records worked seamlessly into the mix: a performance of “Eyes” that highlighted Bjorn’s talent on bass, Peter guiding the crowd through a singalong of “Dig A Little Deeper,” and John’s command over the slowed down breakbeat of “Amsterdam,” which brought back memories for both me and the girl behind me, who said that “every song from 2007 just flashed in [/fusion_builder_column][fusion_builder_column type=”1_1″ background_position=”left top” background_color=”” border_size=”” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” spacing=”yes” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” padding=”” margin_top=”0px” margin_bottom=”0px” class=”” id=”” animation_type=”” animation_speed=”0.3″ animation_direction=”left” hide_on_mobile=”no” center_content=”no” min_height=”none”][her] mind.”
Along with bringing outside producers into the mix for Breakin’ Point, two new touring members have accompanied the band this time around, allowing them to achieve a live sound closer to what you hear on their records. Peter took the time out to introduce the two “dear friends and talented musicians,” Freja on backing vocals and percussion, and Klaus on the computer and keyboard. In addition, Julian Harmon of POP ETC took over on the bongos while Freja took center stage as the female counterpart in “Young Folks,” the hipster whistle song that just turned ten this year.
But Peter Bjorn and John continue to prove over and over again that they are beyond capable of getting more than just that song and “Second Chances” stuck in your head for days on end. Closing out the show with “I Know You Don’t Love Me,” which is no slower but a bit more mellow, the trio still makes use of the whole stage and every ounce of vitality left in them during the song’s extended instrumental bridge.
The upbeat intensity of the live performance showcases the harmony that makes Peter Bjorn and John work so well together. As Peter said, “You meet someone, you do some things, 10 years later you have a family.”
It was the philosopher Aristotle who said, “The whole is greater than the sum of its parts.” While I’m not certain that Aristotelian philosophy was at the forefront of Camille Bloom’s mind while songwriting, I can’t help but consider it a subconscious theme to her fifth studio LP Pieces Of Me, which she self-released earlier this month.
Despite having started her career in Seattle nearly fifteen years ago while transitioning out of another – teaching high school English à la Sting – it seems that Pieces Of Me has become the “a-ha!” moment for Bloom. The record has received widespread applause from the likes of Impose Magazine, No Depression, The Seattle Times, PopDose to name but a few. Now it has us on our feet clapping as well.
Pieces Of Me provides a remedy for a paradoxical problem: wanting to listen to a record that is diverse yet cohesive all at once. You’d be hard-pressed to find another album so adventurous in its genre-hopping. Some truly unique compositions crop up on both the bluegrass-infused title track as well as “Zombie,” a searing social commentary set to sinister, plunking jazz rhythms.
No shocker here, but some of my favorite moments occur on the album’s more forlorn cuts; take the somnolent piano ballad “Everywhere But Here” for instance, which sounds sweetly ominous with its cinematic strings and crescendo vocals. The pared-down “Turn Back to You” nourishes all of the hopeless romantic, sap-atoms I possess, and who could deny those harmonies? *Swoon*
Pieces stands tall like a well-constructed sandwich; varying ingredients piled between two hearty slabs of bread-though these slices would have to be gluten free, as Bloom informed the University of Washington’s Medicine Pulse podcast earlier this year: she suffers from celiac disease. The parallel pieces holding everything together are the album’s two versions of “Lift Me Up.”
Both commencing and closing the record, the opening iteration is a rapturous, stringed affair simultaneously hopeful and melancholy. However, the dance-remix closer paints the song in washes of synths and should absolutely be saved for the last dance. It’s the kind of late-night, low-lit pop-drama fit for Robyn herself.
Throughout Pieces you will find tasteful arrangements seasoned with swells of cello, warm trumpet tones, expertly plucked mandolin, and electric guitar so sexily understated it is baffling. While all of that might sound heady on paper, the instrumentation is grounded and never overpowers Bloom’s distinctly crystalline vocals. I suspect a large portion of the record’s success can be attributed to Camille Bloom’s new producer: Camille Bloom.
After years of recording with producers such as the acclaimed Martin Feveyear (who takes a mixing and mastering credit on Pieces) Bloom wanted to take a crack at doing it herself this time. After crowdfunding the record’s required budget and building a home studio on her farm property in Washington State, Bloom spent hours in the newly christened Silo Studio with engineer and percussionist Logan Billingsley laying down tracks, tweaking, and comping. The result is quite the accomplishment, not only reaffirming the artist’s chops as a songwriter, but her new byline as a producer to boot.
After listening to the record in full, one might ask: what are the pieces of Camille Bloom? Songwriter. Producer. Teacher. Singer. Wearer of brightly patterned shirts. Scorpio. Wife.
Even putting all of her qualifications into a list or resume seems reductive, and I am brought back to what that guy Aristotle said: “The whole is greater than the sum of its parts.” So no matter how wonderful each piece of Camille Bloom may be, what they add up to is something so lovely that even I struggle to put it into words. So I will just let her.
Jazz guitarist, producer, and ambient electronica explorer Dan Gruszka released his enchanting and contemplative solo EP 1121 earlier this month under his creative moniker Daniel Monk. The single “Kite View” quivers with fragility but not weakness. For a debut release, Monk finds a seasoned balance of self-control and self-assurance that is unexpectedly meditative and mature.
“Kite View” features up and coming female artist ISLA whose angel breath cadence swirls within the delicate framework of Monks sensitive production and arrangement. Sans vocals, the track would still sing in a voice tinged with melancholic flight. The addition of ISLA takes “Kite View” into a patient pre-dystopian lullaby. A hint of acoustic guitar rolls in as ISLA’s voice escapes the atmosphere, leaving us abruptly to wade through the stillness left behind by the sensuous synths. In this case, minimalism isn’t boring or safe rather a lesson in space, spacing and the art of dipping your foot into waters before jumping.
NENA, who you may know from her world famous single, “99 Luftballons,” has recently come out with a new video for her latest song “Genau Jetzt” (“Right Now”).
The video showcases different people, both by themselves and interacting with loved ones. With NENA’s powerful vocals over the video, you don’t need to speak German to feel impacted by this pop anthem. It’s a track where you can go from feeling empowered and inspired to dancing around the room completely lost in the music.
NENA will be embarking on her first U.S. tour starting in September where she’ll hit San Francisco, Los Angeles, and New York City. If you’re looking to experience this German pop legend and hear “Genau Jetzt” live, then this is probably exactly what you’ve been waiting for.
Cool Company is bringing us a bit of smooth jazzy hip-hop in their new single “Slice of Paradise.”
This Bushwick-based duo is full of genre-mashing hits that make you want to move around a dance floor. Their new track holds elements of sexy, passion-packed soul music with raw hip-hop breakdowns, a juxtaposition that’s both unique and completely entrancing. If you’re looking for a song to chill out to after a long week, this should be your go-to—it’ll get you humming and relaxed in no time. They’re planning to release a full-length in September, so keep a tab on these cool fellas.
It’s hard to be weird, but embracing your weirdness can be the key to happiness. Or at least, the key to a solid album. Sad Baxter, a duo from Nashville, knows this; their debut album Weirdy comes out on Friday via Cold Lunch Recordings and explores the strangeness of love, like, and existing.
The duo is from Nashville, TN and consists of best friends Deezy on guitar and vocals and Alex on drums (though Ellen Angelico played bass on the album). Their tough pop sound leans heavily on grunge, with a nod to Nirvana that shows itself in dissonant choruses and lyrics that radiate self awareness. “I hate you, but I want you,” Deezy sings on Weirdy‘s “The Drip,” a song that crunches along pleasingly despite the conflicting emotions it contains: “I don’t want you to be someone else/ But I can’t watch you go be with someone other than me.” On “So Why,” they tell us that “brainwaves change” and it’s ok “to want to feel all the chemicals making you insane.” Sometimes the melody can be the most expressive part of the their songs, the lyrics dissolving into wordless vocalizations as chords swell and crash. This is especially true on “The Big One;” check out the video below, which shows the duo playing with dogs and cats, and performing in various locations (sometimes without realizing the guitar cable isn’t plugged in).
Beverly Johnson is Bevlove, Detroit‘s premier pop goddess. She writes. She sings. She’s changing the game. Produced by SYBLYNG and Assemble Sound and directed by Detroit visual wonder-kids The Right Brothers, “Do What I Say” dropped last night at midnight. Relevant both conceptually and sonically, the track proves that Bevlove is more than a breakthrough, she’s a wrecking ball.
“DWIS” acts as a seductive instructional and a warning for future lovers, victims and anyone who dare take on Bevlove on the streets or in the sheets. “DWIS” could easily be the sequel to Rihanna’s “Bitch Better Have my Money” and the video could be the more sinister, less PG sister to rival girl-gang in Taylor Swift’s “Bad Blood.” The video features some of Detroit’s favorite bad girls following behind leading lady Love with torches and man eating scowls, ready to attack. Flashing to smokey dance scenes and the ultimate pink confetti girl party. Where “DWIS” bares its visual duality is when we see Bevlove in bed with white feathers floating around her lingerie clad angel self, making us believe she is to be trusted. But we know better. Bevlove uses her vocals as a Trojan horse, delivering the lyrics “Such a fucking lady/tonight I’m going to take control.” Her voice breaks into another stratosphere, departing from her hardened hip-hop cadence to reveal ethereal tones and a richness that Beyoncé herself would envy. The song is perfectly crafted with everything that makes a song raunchy yet radio ready and impossible to shake from your head. The catchy hook, the bass beat and choppy hip-hop delivery is current enough to blend in and original enough to set its own precedent for badass-ery. The video celebrates women and flips the script on sex, desire and not taking shit. Bevlove is a great reminder of why you should get you a girl that can do both.
[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”]Photo by Chantal Elise as part of the “In the Band: Michigan Music Behind a Feminist Lens.” For more of her work, head to www.chantalelise.com.
If Siouxsie Sioux and the cast of Hedwig and the Angry Inch shared a seedy punk venue greenroom where they exchanged Bowie impressions and candy necklace bites, you might have a slight grasp on what Dear Darkness sounds like. Self-described as somewhere between “kitsch and oblivion,” Detroit drama queens Stacey MacLeod and Samantha Linn released their latest pleasantly demented and perfectly untamed EP Get it Here earlier this week. This perplexing polyamorous marriage of grit, grime, glitter and gorgeously unique explorations of voice (both internal and external) revel in a self-made turbulence much like a wave pool in a motel bathtub.
Don’t mistaken aforementioned “kitsch” as a dismissal of sincerity. Although riotously playful, Get it Here provokes a teeth grinding, guttural exorcism that just happens to be covered in frosting and sprinkles. Lyrically, the EP kicks and screams but not without cracks where a beautifully strange vulnerability pushes through. The swollen, voice breaking delivery of the lyrics: “Why don’t you notice me? I’m right here” from the track “You Ain’t Tried it With Me” encompasses the tug-of-war vibe of the entire collection. The drums are scathing, the guitar restless. and the warbled and tortured ferocity of MacLeod and Linn’s harmonizing fuse to redefine punk, pop and human fragility in one fell swoop. Yes, the EP is shockingly consistent but that observation seems to belittle the entirety of what Dear Darkness is attempting to do here. More than consistency, what they’ve managed to do in five songs and under 18 minutes is, above all else, really fucking special.
Indulge in Dear Darkness’s rare breed of strange on “Get it Here” below:
A phosphene is the experience of seeing light when none has actually entered your eyes; it’s where the phrase “seeing stars” comes from, and common causes include rubbing your eyes or being hit in the head. It’s the perfect name for the indie shoegaze trio from Oakland, whose latest EP, Breaker, is the sonic equivalent of a light in the distance. Sometimes it’s a warm glow, like on “Hear Me Out,” or flickering, like on “Ride.”
On one of Phosphene‘s best tracks, “Rogue,” it’s like neon sign, steady and bright, with a surge before burning out completely. The lyrics will resonate with anyone who takes the subway, though they namedrop the Bay Area’s version of the MTA: “BART is rocking me to sleep/ It keeps reminding/ Me of the loves I can’t keep.” There’s a nice current that runs through the five songs, all wrapped up in a dreamy haze, worth checking out when you need to light up your life a little bit. Check out Breaker by Phosphene, below:
Flint Eastwood‘s “Glitches” finds its heroine in Jax Anderson, whose battle with her mother’s death gave us the album Small Victories last fall. Small Victories was a eulogy, a cry for closure, and ultimately a poetic pop anthem for anyone who has ever suffered immeasurable loss. Don’t mistake Anderson’s confessionary vulnerability for weakness; she rises up and throws emotional punches in “Glitches” like a boxer in training in preparation for the ultimate head to head: the past v. the future.
The video is simple in its content but executed with a cinematic richness that reads as an autobiographical dream, or more so peephole into the internal mechanism required to face her own mortality. The video follows Anderson as she begins training with a coach who is also training a young boy. This paralleled shared experience between the antagonist and the child is reflective of the connectivity between our inner child and our adult self, realizing that the fight within is inherently present. There are several visceral cuts to Anderson as the only passenger on a boat speeding across the water that evokes an urgency as the viewer can only assume that she is searching for the intangible.
The video gives the illusion of slow motion and embodies a discernable hesitation. This barely palatable distortion of speed feels like a personal attempt at the grieving platitude of taking one day at a time, but in “Glitches” proves to be a poignant play on sensationalized time. The climax reveals cuts of Anderson in the ring to her feverish hunt in a sun drenched church, where she confronts a television screening real home movies of her as a little girl featuring her mother as she mouths the words “Turn it Off!” to the camera man. It is the fusion of this authentic, remarkably personal moment tied to a Anderson’s semi-fictionalized characterization that tugs on our own experiences and poses the question: “how do we move on?”
Watch Jax Anderson throw some emotional punches below:
For this week’s New Music Monday we have the debut track from Sara Diamond. “Just Give In” is an R&B laced pop number about giving into emotion and turning anticipation into experience. The song showcases Diamond’s sultry vocals, complete with a throwback voicemail moment. The Montreal-based singer debuted the gem today on Noisey, take a listen for yourself below.
Museyroom is named after a reference from Finnegans Wake, James Joyce’s last book that is widely regarded as having an experimental style meant to “recreate the experience of sleep and dreams.” According to the Brooklyn trio, it describes “a sort of alternate dimension the group would create with its musical output, sonically mirroring an unexplored, variable universe.”
Like the plot of the book, the band’s upcoming album, Pearly Whites, is elusive but captivating. Their sound seems to exist in two worlds at once, due to the seamless mix of ancient and modern elements. Mournful organ, Victorian-esque keys and harp-like guitar plucking will give way to electronic drums or synth. Long, drawn out harmonies give the feeling that the band is holding on to the past as the floorboards tilt and they’re thrown into the present, while the oohs and aaahs on “Ranger” sound like a haunting by friendly ghosts. They tag themselves with the phrase “future nostalgia,” and rightfully so.
Jack Donovan’s voice has this pleasant, conversational quality to it, making even the gloomiest lyrics sound like they’re not so bad, from his lament about a “miserable routine” on “Ballad” or an experience of being “down on your knees, trying to breathe/ On wet tiles in the bath” on “Sleeper.”Pearly Whites has some ominous undertones, but they’re buried under a haze of soft guitars and gentle melodies; the album is pretty and calm on the surface, but for those who want more, there’s plenty to find if they dive to the bottom.
Pearly Whites will be available on March 25 via Grind Select. Check out their video for “Ballad” below.
The flower princess of pop nihilism, Lana Del Rey, returned this week with another installment of her haunting visual diaries with the video for “Freak” from 2015’s Honeymoon, featuring none other than the sensual prince of sardonicism Father John Misty. Lana leads us on a disturbingly enchanting 11-minute trip through her dizzying rose tinted world where the word “baby” is seductive currency.
Allegedly inspired by Josh Tillman’s (Father John Misty) own acid trip at a Taylor Swift concert, “Freak” reads as a modern day Charles Manson/Jim Jones-esque hallucinational tale complete with Kool-Aid and airy angel followers donning sandy blonde hair and wispy white clothes. The video opens with Tillman manically waving a large walking stick into the air at a California sky as Lady Lana leads him to a sandy overlook. It would be safe to assume that Tillman is the cult leader, with his Manson beard, but it is revealed to us that it is actually Lana who calls the shots as she places a square of acid on his tongue. It is from this point that we find ourselves with Lana, alone, in what is presumably her cabin lair paired with juxtaposing flashes of her and Tillman tripping through the hills. Eventually, we are shown the ethereal gaggle of disciples draped over a tranced out Tillman. Lana, all the while, is sloppily drinking her own ritualistic Kool-Aid concoction of beguilement.
“Freak” trails off into silence as Tillman dips Lana in a twisted waltz engulfed by white light and smoke fading into heavenly ether. Enter Debussy’s 1905 “Clair de Lune” as the cast is entangled with each other underwater in a baptismal dance that challenges death and rebirth, with a paramount acuteness to the push and pull relationship between the possessed and the possessor.
Could this video be artistic coding for Lana’s recently troubled encounters with fandom? Possibly. But more than likely “Freak” is a call to, well, freaks, and when our velveteen temptress coos: “Baby, if you wanna leave/come to California/be a freak like me, too,” I can’t help but think this video is simply meant as a captivating heretic anthem for the dazed and suffused.
RYAL is Jacque Ryal, an alt-pop artist from San Diego, CA who moved to New York when she was 18. Although her earlier work was considerably darker and drew comparisons to groups such as Portishead, RYAL has challenged herself to write songs that were both optimistic and timeless on her upcoming release.
Though her new music aspires to be happier, I sense the same longing in the song “Wish” as I feel everyday from November to April: What happened to summer? Why did summer have to go away? It helps that the track invokes a trip to the beach; along with producer Aaron Nevezie, she’s created a bouncy, but focused beat with splashes of tropical guitar and synths that will have you missing the good days when the sun didn’t set before 6pm: “We had a good love/ Not just a summer fling…I miss you bad when the sun falls on to its knees.” Her words capture the bittersweetness of a fleeting romance, while the music reflects the brightness and happiness she experienced before she knew it was gone.
The RYAL EP will be available on February 19, but we have the exclusive stream below.
The dimly-lit green room at Music Hall of Williamsburg smells of cigarettes, but in an unassuming way, perhaps because Chris Chu of POP ETC kindly apologizes to my plus one, Caroline, and I in advance. I hardly noticed what he meant once we got up there, and no one else seemed to mind either.
Before we sit down, Chu offers us a drink.
“Water? Beer? How old are you guys?”
I feel nervous that if I say yes, I’m imposing, though I notice the array of drinks in the mini fridge: Tecate beer cans, water bottles, and a Snapple that Chu brings out to sip occasionally, post-interview.
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Ysabella Monton for AudioFemme: Between The Morning Benders and becoming POP ETC, and even between the POP ETC album and Souvenir, I’ve noticed changes in the sound and your evolution as a group. You guys have had this awesome, loyal fan base, and you’ve done a great job of doing something new while maintaining that. What do you want your old fans to take from Souvenir?
Chris Chu: Well, love our fans and we do a lot to show them that. We respond to everything, we get people into shows all the time and give away all our guest list spots. We’re thinking about our fans a lot, but when we’re making music, the idea of trying to cater to any kind of specific listener or demographic is just dangerous. So, for Souvenir, we took our time, wrote tons of songs, and waited until a family of songs or a sound just emerged from that. And we’re happy with it. I just think, if you’re catering to your fans or trying to do something with your previous sound or anything like that, at least for us, it feels really stale. It’s hard for me to honestly sing songs like that or go on tour to play songs if we’re not excited about them. I think people notice that, so it would be a disservice to our fans to do the same thing over and over.
YM: No, I know what you mean. [laughs] Well, if you’re constantly having these new ideas, especially over the past three years — it doesn’t seem like it hasn’t been that long since the last record, but I think the change shows. What are you guys drawing inspiration from these days?
CC: It’s all over the place. For this last album, because we made the decision to take our time and approach it really patiently, we traveled a lot. For the last couple of years, I spent probably half my time in Tokyo, where I was working on other projects. So that was a huge difference, just working with people in Japan and being introduced to all this Japanese music. That was amazing, because there’s bands that are equivalent to The Beatles here that no one knows outside of Japan. Like, the number one albums in Rolling Stone Japan. I felt like a kid in a candy shop discovering that.
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Something about inspiration leads us onto a tangent, reminiscing about 80’s music. I use “reminiscing” lightly, since neither of us were actually spinning those records through the decade. As Chu explains, “It’s similar to some of the ways we became interested in Japanese culture with rediscovering that music from the 80’s. We’re too young to have grown up with it, but our parents listened to it and we knew about it.”
I tell Chu a story about being in the car a week ago with my mom, listening to the likes of Tears for Fears, Spandau Ballet, Culture Club. Just for fun, I threw in “Running in Circles” from Souvenir.
“A seamless transition,” Chu laughs.
My mom thought so too. I tell Chu her review of the song: “I’ve never heard it, but I bet it probably played in the disco.”
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Mid-interview, photo by Caroline Sugg for AudioFemme.
CC: That’s amazing. Similar to how I was describing the stuff in Japan, the cool thing about the 80’s is that it didn’t happen long enough ago that it’s been canonized in the same way. I grew up listening to The Beatles, The Beach Boys, Neil Young and all that stuff, Dylan. It’s so long ago that there are so many lists, so much critical discourse about music from the 60’s and you can still go and explore it yourself, but in general, it’s like history’s been written whereas with the 80s, there’s hit songs here and there but there’s a lot of records that people just haven’t given fair due because not enough time’s passed. Tears for Fears, for instance, I feel like people only know the four or five singles…
YM: Tracks like “Everybody Wants to Rule the World.”
CC: Yeah, and that’s one of my favorite songs, ever. Not knocking those songs, but I think that got us excited, like we could go back into the 80’s and write our own history and find things that spoke to us. It makes sense because we’re always listening to pop music. It’s like going into Cyndi Lauper records and Madonna records — again, people know the singles, but there are so many good album tracks.
YM: Definitely. Along with the 80’s influence I noticed some R&B as well in a few songs. I listened to “I Wanted To Change The World But The World Changed Me” and immediately the guitar at the beginning reminded me of “No Scrubs” by TLC.
CC: Yeah. [laughs] Actually, somebody else told me that, and we didn’t think about it, but it totally makes sense. It probably subconsciously made its way in.
YM: Was R&B something you were also listening to growing up?
CC: Yeah, I mean, growing up in the 90’s, you kind of couldn’t escape it. But with every song, especially from a production or sonic standpoint, we never wanna make anything that feels too dated. We’re happy to wear our influences on our sleeves, and it’s only better if people use our music as a gateway to all these 80’s bands that we love. We’re covering Tears for Fears in these shows and I’m sure especially younger kids don’t know that band, and we’d love for them to check it out. With “Running in Circles,” for instance, in the beginning it feels really 80’s, but then in the chorus, the way the guitars kind of sit in the mix, the sound of that feels almost more 90’s rock to me. Then in “I Wanted To Change The World But The World Changed Me,” we were using kind of deeper, subby, 808 kinds of sounds that have that hip hop and R&B influence for sure.
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As he describes that process of putting together different sounds from different eras, there’s a bit of a twinkle in his eye. It becomes clear very quickly that he’s rightfully proud of what POP ETC has accomplished in this regard.
“We love music,” Chu says, “so we’re just listening to stuff all the time and putting it all together.
I ask if that’s where the “et cetera” comes from, since the music they make transcends the meaning of the word “pop” on its own.
“Yeah, we were very intentional about choosing that name,” says Chu. “When we chose ‘The Morning Benders,’ we didn’t even think it would be a real band. But with ‘POP ETC,’ we like the idea of it. Not only does it kind of feel like a genre, so we can say we play “pop et cetera,” but we like it as something bigger than a band, like a kind of concept.”
Especially seeing as “pop” tends to have a negative connotation nowadays, the way that POP ETC have branded themselves is an effective, cohesive labor of love.
“We’re making shirts and stuff, we love it from a design perspective,” explains Chu. “Now, we’re putting things out through our own imprint called ‘POP ETC Records.’ I like how it fits into all these different arms. It all serves the music. And we do play ‘pop et cetera,’ that’s our genre.”
Photo by Bee Vivian.
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YM: Since you mix genres so effectively and all these different aspects go into it, when you have an idea for a song, how does that become a collaborative effort?
CC: Well, it actually changed substantially for this record. Especially with The Morning Benders, probably because I was younger and scared of letting go of total control, I wanted to wear all the hats and try to engineer it, mix it, produce it, and direct everyone exactly how to play things. With this record, and with my brother in the band, and Julian, who I’ve known for half my life, I really trust them. I’ll still write the core of a song by myself, and they give me very honest and merciless feedback. They’ll often be like, “We don’t like this,” and I’ll trash it, or, “The chorus is working, but the rhythm in the verse isn’t,” something like that. They help curate the songwriting even though they’re not writing lyrics or melodies that much. Then from a production standpoint, everyone plays. Julian is just a natural drummer, and as he’s playing drums, he starts guiding a song in a certain way from his style and his idea of what he likes. So yeah, I think this is the most collaborative record we’ve ever made.
YM: Does that have to do with it being recorded in the apartment?
CC: Yeah, that’s a huge factor. I get kinda stressed out being in a studio. I mean, you can find a great studio and make it warm and cool and if you can kind of bunker down for a month or something and you can feel comfortable there, but it’s just harder and harder to do that these days…I just always felt, especially with vocals and things that I wanna do in a really heartfelt, personal way, it’s kind of odd to do it in a studio where you don’t know the space or you don’t know anyone. There’s assistants standing around, staring at you or whatever. We just liked kind of being at home and having the freedom to really be patient. If I wanted to geek out over a certain way I sung a line or something for a couple hours, I could do that, whereas in a studio, you feel bad because you’re having an engineer do this thing over and over, and you just wanna get on with it.
YM: So did you not bring too many other outside people into it?
CC: No, no. We ended up having a couple of people mix it, so we sent it off for that phase just because we thought it would be nice to get some clarity. We ended up spending so much time on this record that we all felt like we were too close to have clarity on organizing sound. But we produced everything and played everything ourselves.
YM: So in the last three years, it wasn’t like a, “We spent most of this time writing, most of this time recording…”
CC: That’s the thing with being able to record at home now, it’s all much more ambiguous and those lines don’t really exist. When we did our first record, it was all the tape and we knew that we’d be going into the studio with not much time so we’d learn all the songs really well, went in and banged it out, and made a record. But with this it’s just everything is a moving part. You’re not committing something to tape where you can’t change it…The songwriting, and the recording and production are all intermingled. And some songs, we’d be fully recorded and go back and rewrite the chorus or a lyric or something. There’s substantial changes to every facet of a song.
YM: So how does that process reflect in the title of the album being Souvenir?
CC: We named it Souvenir for a lot of reasons, but in regards to that, because we took so much time and spent these years making this record, and it really felt stretched out across those years, it wasn’t like we did a couple of months and then vacationed for six, we were really tinkering with it. So I think it feels like a snapshot of what we were going through during those times. We liked the idea of having a souvenir that we could hold onto and keep with us going forward.
—
At this point, Jon, Chu’s brother and bandmate, pops in, waiting for a lull in the conversation. I turn to ask if he wants to add anything.
“Oh no, sorry to interrupt,” he says, “We just didn’t submit a guest list.”
Soon, drummer Julian Harmon comes in too, reaching for the beers and taking a seat on the couch with a few other people. There’s an air of ease in the room, no tension despite there being an interview going on and show time in around fifteen minutes.
“I thought Christine would’ve done that, but I will send it to you,” says Chris
“I’ll send that to you now,” says Chris, and Jon thanks him and apologizes again. “Okay, I sent it to both of you guys.”
“Are you guys doing an interview?” Harmon asks.
“Yeah, and we’re recording,” says Chris, jokingly adding, “So get the beers, and go.”
They leave the room and I get nervous, as it seems like I’m intruding on their time to hang out before the show.
“I mean, the only other thing I was wondering was…” I begin.
“It’s fine! Take your time,” he reassures me. “Don’t worry about them, there’s always something going wrong.”
—
YM: What kinds of things do you want new people who are discovering your music to draw from?
CC: That’s a good question. I don’t know.
YM: Not that you have to peg it for anything specific.
CC: I mean, obviously we put so much time into this record, I hope that people connect with it. In the same way that it’s a souvenir for us and we have it for these times, I like the idea of people having it — and for me, this is how music works in my life — as I’m living and listening to a record, my life experiences get kind of wrapped up in that, so ideally, that was what would happen. It could be a souvenir for other people.
YM: Yeah, definitely.
CC: To bring it full circle with what we were talking about early on, I really want fans to know how much we appreciate them caring about what we’re doing. I would like them to connect with us, especially with all the social media ways you connect with fans directly. I really think that it’s a blessing that we get to make music all the time for a living. We really do believe in that exchange and we’re feeding off the energy of our fans. Their support really does affect us and our music.
Berkeley-born and Brooklyn-based trio POP ETC are back with Souvenir, a follow up to 2012’s eponymous release.
In the last three years, the band has traversed in an even poppier direction, almost a little cheesy. But in a time when “pop” is considered an obscenity, a genre to be left for the tweens, POP ETC makes something shimmer on Souvenir.
The first single, “What Am I Becoming?” stands out as one of my favorite tracks, right next to the relentlessly catchy “Vice,” where lead singer Chris Chu sings, “You’ve got that vice that I like/No matter how hard I fight/It takes a hold of me right now.”
“Your Heart is a Weapon” and “Running in Circles” most clearly relay the 80’s synth-pop feel dominating the album. Slowing it down, “I Wanted to Change the World But the World Changed Me” (apart from being a mouthful of a title) is set in motion by a catchy guitar hook immediately reminiscent of “No Scrubs” by TLC.
The album is sprinkled with bits of R&B influence throughout, and it’s fair to assume these guys have spent some time listening to the likes of both Duran Duran and Mariah, and everything in between.
Perhaps that explains where the “et cetera” comes from.
There’s a clearly deliberate cohesion on Souvenir that was lacking on the overdone POP ETC. Simplifying the production and easing up on the auto-tune makes for a delightful listen, and a pretty good dance party playlist for fans of other contemporary indie pop artists like Ra Ra Riot or Washed Out.
The boys are currently on tour with Oh Wonder, and will be playing Music Hall of Williamsburg this Friday and Bowery Ballroom on Saturday.
Detroit-adopted Ann Arborite and premier Motown revivalist, Mayer Hawthorne, returned this week with another funk infused groove, “Cosmic Love” from his fourth solo studio LP (his first in three years) due out this spring. If you’re unfamiliar, you might think Hawthorne is just another white boy relying on soulful affectation. What you should know is that Hawthorne has built his reputation on authentically modernizing funk, soul and Detroit’s signature Motown sound in a way that has always felt fresh and fun but with a soothing melancholy that speaks to what Hawthorne does best: croon and groove.
This time around, however, I feel as though Hawthorne missed an opportunity. “Cosmic Love”, for me, is borderline comical. It could fit into a shaky Shaft-esque 1970’s amateur porn or a montage scene from an Anchorman movie with equal fluidity. It’s satirical in its literal interpretation using galactic twinkling synths, Hawthorne’s spacey echoed vocals, and the breathy female background chorus, all of which makes “Cosmic Love” feel more like a store-bought Halloween costume than a reinvention of your parent’s vintage wardrobe.
Am I a jerk for longing for heartbroken, lovelorn Hawthorne circa 2009’s A Strange Arrangement? Or story driven, assertively dreamy Hawthorne from 2013’s Where Does This Door Go? Considering Hawthorne is an artist who begs us to turn the clocks back, isn’t it natural for me to want to do the same? It should be said that I like “Cosmic Love.” I do. I can appreciate its playful, candied kitsch. The single opens with the lyrics “If I had a dollar/For every dream of you and me/I’d buy myself a rocket/And shoot into your galaxy” and by the end all I can think is that I wished he would have shot a little further.
Any simplicity in the music of Hinds is made up for in sheer attitude. Except for “The Garden,” most of their music videos feature footage of the members goofily singing along to their songs. The Madrid band’s personality is just as easily translated on Leave Me Alone, a fun, loose, and effortless album of lo-fi garage rock that will make you really, really want Hinds to be your new best friend.
The band started with Carlotta Cosials and Ana Perrote, who share guitar and vocals. Cosials will layer her sugary voice over Perrote’s deeper, tougher tone, then the two will split apart into different ideas or sing the same a beat apart. It’s a style that comes close to the disorganized side of casual, which makes it all the more endearing. After writing songs under the name Deers, Cosials and Perrote added bassist Ade Martin and drummerAmber Grimbergen, but were forced to change their name after another band threatened legal action. They’ve maintained a sense of humor about it, though: on their website, there’s an animated video game where you click your mouse to make a running deer jump over the band (hit a chili pepper, and you turn purple).
Their lyrics touch on the trickiness and frustration of dating with the same wry humor, warning about a girl who hides her flaws with “She always burns her warts… don’t let her waste your smile” and imploring a clueless crush to make a move on “Chili Town” because “I’ve been touching without hands/ Because you’re deaf and blind.” They provide a perfect balance between romance and independence, made clear through “I’ll make it simple, I don’t play no games/ I could be your baby, but I’ll be your man,” and on one of their best songs, “Bamboo:” “How could I show you without looking freaking mad/ That I am not always gonna be around/ And how could I show you without loosing all our time/ That I am not always gonna run behind.”
Leave Me Alone comes out tomorrow, but is currently streaming on NPR. In anticipation of its release, the band played a karaoke show at Palisades on Wednesday, inviting fans to sing their songs for them. Maybe Hinds just want to be our friend, too?
Folk pop singer Cassandra Violet came out with a new music video for the track “Lady” from her upcoming Body & Mind EP, to be released this coming January.
Inspired by the infamous cat-calling video documenting the verbal and sexual harassment we femmes in the city know all too well, Violet portrays a young woman helpless to the control of a male cult leader. While the period garb, desolate backdrop, and hazy effects might set the video in the past, when the two sisters escape the oppression of the cult leader, they overlook a modern city, fearful of what awaits them.
Thus, the story hauntingly answers the question of what it’s like to be a woman in society, even to this day.
Violet’s vocal prowess is reminiscent of folk pioneer (and fellow blunt-banged beauty) Joni Mitchell, with her effortless command of the drum-powered build up that helps drive the narrative through.
It all started when I was a kid. My dad taught me that if I want to meet the band, I should wait by the tour bus after the show. I never abused this knowledge and I never became a groupie (even though the thought of becoming one was a strangely enchanting dream of mine; I was too sheepish to ever make it happen). My hours of waiting at backdoors and waving my hands at tour bus windows were completely innocent out of admiration for the artist. I drove around various parts of the midwest as a teenager, with my best friend, to follow Phantom Planet and Black Rebel Motorcycle Club with the only intention of snapping a photo or snagging a setlist. But never once did we make onto a bus. Fast forward to today. I am typing this in the back lounge of a matte black tour bus while the drummer and bassist sleep in their respective bunks, while the rest of the remaining members tackle a radio interview somewhere outside of Columbus, Ohio. I’m living out multiple fantasies via multiple realities and all I can think of is how this is not at all what I expected.
JR JR (Yes, once called Dale Earnhardt Jr Jr and no, we don’t want to talk about it) hails from Detroit but has gained impressive momentum across the country with their single “Gone” off their latest self-titled release on Warner Bros. The album is truly reflective of the band’s new trajectory into new territory, and an infectious collection of pop anthems that is relatable to anyone who has ever shed a previous self. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve had to answer the question, “What band are you with?” and when I respond, more people know who I’m talking about. Comprised of Josh Epstein, Daniel Zott, Bryan Pope and Michael Higgins (my ticket onto the bus and the key to my heart….awwwww), JR JR is not just a flash in the pan, forever-on-the-verge band. They’ve affected people. I’ve been lucky enough to see proof of this. And I think even the band would agree that this is the most coveted goal of being a band.
I first stepped aboard the bus when I kissed the drummer good bye, wishing them a safe and happy tour. This was at the end of September. Not five minutes after watching the bus disappear into my rear view, I remember pulling into a McDonalds parking lot to cry into my steering wheel. I was going to miss him. Everything I had ever known to be true about touring musicians (the girls, the parties, the general debauchary, the girls) fed into the fits of sadness that followed their departure. Despite knowing that these boys never once fit the description, I was haunted by films like Almost Famous. There was jealousy, too, that I did not anticipate. He would get to travel the country while I was forced to work my shitty 9 to 5 and live in my shitty apartment with my shitty cats (just kidding, I love them). This was shaping up to be the most challenging two months of my life. We talked every day, though I would often shut down and not answer texts or calls because I was too scared to know if he was having the time of his life without me. I can be selfish, sometimes. After a few weeks we decided in time and in tune that I would join the last leg of the tour. This solved several curiosities and satisfied my deprivation since his departure. I told my boss (never did I ask permission) that this was something I needed to do, and that he had no choice other than to be okay with it because I already bought the plane ticket to New York City and had already arranged for someone to care for my cats (see, I told you I loved them). I was warned of a few things while packing and frantically rearranging my life for this temporary escape. Packing was impossible as I realized I was at the mercy of the tour bus, the tour schedule, and that I had absolutely no control over anything that would likely happen. I had to let go and say yes, advice I have spent years giving other people would forcibly become my wayward mantra.
I landed in New York City last week. JR JR was gearing up to play Webster Hall and all I cared about was being reunited with my person. I had no idea that my life would forever be changed. My path was being unknowingly rerouted and my goals were silently one-uping each other. I was no longer a voyeur to a life I once dreamed of, but an active participant. This was more than tour. This was more than music. This was an adventure.
Things you might not know about tour:
1. There is no pooping on the bus.
This might not seem like a big deal (and it isn’t) until you have to actually go. Pissing is fine, as long as your aim and balance are in check. You are at the mercy of whatever city you’re headed to next and the speed of the driver. Sometimes it’s best to sleep through the discomfort and pray you can hold it another 5, 6, sometimes 8 hours. Once we’re parked, we usually collectively spend the first part of our morning/afternoon looking for Starbucks bathrooms (for which I would like to publicly apologize for the havoc we have wreaked in aforementioned restrooms).
2. Sleep. Is. Everything.
Before I joined the crew, I would get so pissed at Michael for sleeping until two or three in the afternoon, as I had already been awake, at work and productive for hours before him. Now that I am a bus rat, I find it easy to sleep undisturbed until early afternoon because I know that load in (the literal loading of equipment into the venue) is going to be brutal, and the day is non-stop from the moment the tour manager shakes us awake. This leads me to point number three.
3. Bunks are NOT comfortable.
The size of a coffin, perhaps with a bit more leg room, the bunks are not ideal for anyone. Period. Even though I have my own bunk (I use it for storage mostly) I have chosen to cram into Michaels and it took three days to find our Tetris-like synchronicity during sleep. I’ve bumped my head, kneed him in the ribs, rolled out and off and on night one I had a panic attack induced by claustrophobia. I thought I was dead and had been buried. This is a common feeling while on tour. On the rare occasion that a real bed is available to us, we take it. We nap in it. We spread our limbs and jump on it. Beds are a luxury. Despite the stiff necks and sore limbs, the bus is our home and our bunks, most nights, are heaven. The curtains provide pitch blackness so that sleep at any hour is possible. Waking up disoriented is normal and actually grounding, if you can believe that.
4. You will get fat on tour.
I had a plan going in. I’m going to eat healthy and light and find ways to exercise along the way. This made no sense considering I don’t even do those things in my normal life. Well, it’s day seven and my clothes are fitting tighter, my face is noticeably a bit puffier and we even Uber’d from our hotel to a Taco Bell because, well, dinner wasn’t enough. It’s not that tour makes you fat, more so tour makes you hungry. You’re forced to think ahead every single day. If we woke up at 3pm, load in is at 3:30, soundcheck is at 5, that means we won’t have an opportunity to eat again until we load OUT sometime after 11. And of course there are bus snacks and green room hospitalities (booze, pizza, and cupcakes to name a few) all of which are contributors to this few extra pounds. A huge part of it, for me, is wanting to eat food in every city we go to. We ask the locals where the best tacos are or where their favorite pizza joint is. We indulge and are thankful for our generous per diem that allow us to be fat, happy, and well, fat.
5. There’s no time to party.
I think it’s a universal image. The band. The bus. The parties. Girls waiting to fuck you. We have been fed this story time and time again and in a lot of instances it’s true (if you’re Motley Crue and it’s 1987). Not only do I know the JR JR boys personally enough to know they do not fit this description, I have learned that there just isn’t time to be bad. Half the band is married and the other half are in relationships, and as a whole the shared goal is always the music. Between promo and press visits with radio stations, gigs and meetings with managers, and long bus hauls, we are lucky if we get enough time to wash ourselves in venue sinks (because showers are just as rare as beds and pooping opportunities). With rigid tour schedules, most of the time sleep is valued over night life exploration. Playing Xbox in the back lounge is preferred over drinking with fans. And visiting local museums and zoos is more appealing than Tinder’ing and scoring drugs. I can’t speak for every band, but I can speak for JR JR. We like burritos and nature walks, when time permits.
As I said earlier, I am somewhere in Columbus, Ohio. The bus has finally stopped near our venue for the night, and the boys are in search of breakfast. In just a few days my life will return to its normal speed and I will be forced to apply what I’ve seen and what I’ve learned to making my life back home more exciting. I will undoubtedly miss the lulling sway of the tour bus and the excitement of waking up somewhere other than where I fell asleep. I’ve walked the steps of Harvard and played drums during soundcheck at 9:30 Club in D.C. I’ve felt the vibrations of the roaring fans from the green room and I’ve watched hundreds of people sing along to every word. Beyond everything I’ve learned I’ve fallen even more in love with Michael, music, and this strange country than I ever thought possible. Tour is not what you think, not for a minute. But it’s that shift in perception and these sweeping realizations that have brought me closer to myself in ways that are still unfolding, still indescribable. The tour wraps in a few days in Chicago. We are all excited to go home and to sleep in real beds and shower for as long as the hot water allows. Collectively I know we will miss this strange, ever moving adventure…until the next time the bus pulls up.
Emi Meyer‘s debut album, Curious Creature came out in 2009 and reached #1 on Japan’s iTunes Jazz Charts, and lead her to be crowned as iTunes Japan’s Best New Artist. Now America has caught up to speed, and AudioFemme is here to premiere her new track, “Galaxy’s Skirt (Soul Catalyst Remix).” It’s jazz, but with the most delightful tropical pop twist which makes it the best song to dance to, alone out of happiness or out with a lover, that we’ve heard in some time. Emi comes from an interesting background full of accolades. Born in Kyoto to a Japanese mother and American father, she moved to Seattle as a child, and went on to win the 2007 Seattle-Kobe Jazz vocalist competition. Now, she’s kicking ass with her music being featured on the likes of MTV’s “Awkward.”
Her upcoming album Galaxy’s Skirt: Deluxe Edition is out December 4. You can catch her before then playing New York’s Club Bonafide Friday, November 13.
Upgrade your work day with the dance-infused jazz track below.
Things aren’t quite what they seem in Rah Rah‘s cosmos-themed video for “Chip Off The Heart:” Endless space filled with asteroids and planets are all contained all within an eyeball, a T-Rex exists amongst the pyramids, and a city fits in the palm of a hand. The realistic but cartoonish animation lends itself perfectly to the song’s upbeat, dancey sound, while the creepier elements of the video fit the song’s heartbroken lyrics. The words “Don’t panic, don’t panic,” are chanted as disembodied eyeballs float through a forest and an open mouth turns into a spiraling tunnel. And, an anatomically correct heart drifts through space, circled by planets and pulsing eerily as the band bemoans a betrayal by a former lover. The video ends with the sound of the heart pounding, lost amongst the stars. Thanks, Rah Rah, for reminding us that no matter how bad our heartbreak feels, the universe is way bigger than our problems.
“Chip Off The Heart” is the second single off of the Canadian band’s Vessels, which was released in September through Hidden Pony Records. Buy it here, and check out the video below.
There are only so many words, and as a result, only so many band names that can be claimed before they start to overlap. For example, here’s six bands that have “moon” in their name, and considering these all were chosen simply because I’ve heard their name recently or saw it on a show calendar, there are probably many more (such as Moonwalks featured in our latest Playing Detroit column). Here’s a quick guide to what they sound like, where they’re from, and how you tell them apart.
Moonchild
The Los Angeles based group Moonchild plays jazzy pop that includes tenor saxophone and clarinet (played by vocalist Amber Navran). They have all the timing and timbre of a standard jazz or lounge band, but with echo-y layers of vocals and brass played with a soulful swagger.
Summer Moon
Summer Moon could be placed into the category of “super group;” its members include Nikolai Fraiture (The Strokes), Erika Spring (Au Revoir Simone), and Tennessee Thomas (Like) as well as Lewis Lazar. So obviously, they sound pretty good.
https://youtu.be/AsOIlRMGzy0
Moon Honey
Moon Honey is from Los Angeles, but via Louisiana. They play intricate, surreal pop with theatrical vocals supplied by Jessica Ramsey. The trills in her voice are reminiscent of an old Disney movie soundtrack, while her melodies recall the Dirty Projectors minus the harmonies.
https://soundcloud.com/moonhoneyband/boy-magic-1
What Moon Things
What Moon Things is a New York band that’s part punk, part moody dream pop. Check out “Squirrel Girl,” a track from their self-titled LP that sounds like the perfect soundtrack for wandering through a dark, abandoned warehouse. The trio is also playing several CMJ shows at venues like Aviv, Pianos, and Bowery Electric.
The Soft Moon
The Soft Moon is a San Francisco band with a heavy, industrial sound, best described as steady and sludgy (and as their recent video for “Dummy” proves, occasionally creepy).
https://soundcloud.com/goincase/when-its-over
Moon Duo
Moon Duo is a San Francisco project made up of Erik Johnson (Wooden Shijps) and Sanae Yamada. Their sound is a combination of electronic and Krautrock elements, with droning, understated vocals, and lots of keys and psychedelic guitar solos.
Ticket Giveaways
Each week Audiofemme gives away a set of tickets to our featured shows in NYC! Scroll down to enter for the following shindigs.
