- Aqualaygualry in arcade fire - black wave/bad vibrations Today i watching overlay from here. this is wondeful film. Who are watching this?
- cattartiste in arcade fire - black wave/bad vibrations SplitVideo is a freeware virtual video clone and split video nick driver in behalf of connecting disparate applications to a single video...
- Peggus-interruptus in The Temper Trap Lovin’ The Temper Trap!
Running the sound for a live band is one of those thankless jobs where it’s your assigned task to make yourself invisible. If you’re doing it well, no one notices you — everyone’s attention is focused on the music. But should you fail, you become very, very visible, and you do it very quickly.
I spent an awful lot of Ladytron’s 6/27 show at the Sonar acutely aware of the sound guy.
In fairness, I think they’re probably an extremely difficult band to mix live. The squealing, shifting synths and super-processed guitars that form the center of their sound seem like they’d be hard to get good separation on, especially given that the ‘tron refuse to use any sequencers and so every keyboard is actually being played live. Additionally, neither Helen Marnie nor Mira Aroyo are super-powerful vocalists, but the lyrics demand to be heard well enough to be understood. There’s an awful lot of information there crammed into the mid-range; the album that Ladytron are touring behind, Velocifero, is on my record-of-the-year shortlist, but it almost demands a high-definition sound system.
Anyway, I spent the whole first half of the concert listening to a lot of bass and not much else — “Ghosts,” the brilliant lead single, sounded like it was coming out a stairwell. It got a little better towards the end, but not enough. The problem was compounded by the fact that this was possibly the loudest show I’ve ever been to, and the speakers almost sounded like they were clipping; the Sonar is also a building with harsh, unfriendly acoustics even when it’s full, which it was. Read more »
Our newest feature - the superstarcastic writers all review an album with a mere sentence each. Presenting the collected thoughts on Vampire Weekend’s freshman effort:
“Vampire Weekend is to mediocrity what sugary deliciousness is to Ready Whip brand whipped topping.”
~Tyler
“Dear indie snobs: no, it’s not as good as Pitchfork! at the Disco says it is, but it’s not anything like as bad as you keep saying it is either; the truth, like so much Boston Creme filling, lies somewhere in the middle.”
~Sam
“Will someone please put a stake through Sting’s heart for inspiring this reanimated version of the Police?
~Dave
“It’s got something, just not quite enough of it.”
~Zak
“Don’t let the tight pants ruin it for you; pop it in, grab a beer, sit in your lawn chair in the backyard and let the day roll by.”
~Melby
“You’ll be hearing the pap of these pseudo-intellectual gas bags on SUV commercials within the year.”
~Amber
“Someone tell me when the hell Paul Simon’s ‘Graceland’ became a
seminal indie-rock template for the sweater-wearing Columbia U house
party set, because i’ll gladly program my time machine to head back
there and strap a bomb to my chest for the greater good.”
~DJ
“I like the CD, but I feel like a toolbag by association after listening to it.”
~Daniel
“I find the music boring; I think the only aspect of this band that hasn’t been hyped to death is the fact that these are a mighty fine looking bunch of young men.”
~Leah
“This is a concept album that takes the listener on a journey where Rob Schneider invites himself over to their house for just one drink, and ends up staying long after the beer is gone and everyone’s tired of his jokes.”
~Borch
“I’m not sure what I think about rich city kids ripping off Paul Simon ripping off West African melodies and i don’t think it deserves all the hype, but it sure makes for lighthearted, fun, summery listening.”
~Joie
i used to feel really sorry for athens, georgia’s band now it’s overhead because i am a punctuation geek and people are stupid and kept leaving that apostrophe out, which changes the whole meaning, people…geez! but anyway, back when i was in my saddle creek phase, this was my favourite band of the lot, and i still quite enjoy their albums, especially their first self titled endeavor. and andy lemaster himself was kind enough to answer our five questions - check ‘em out and then go to their myspace to check out the tunes.
ps. best answer to question 2 EVAR.
1. when historians listen to your most recent CD 1000 years from now, what will they say?
“Good thing the World Court passed the law of 2286 that made mandatory the bio-engineering of melancholy out of the human genome .”
2. if you could play a show with any band/musician living or dead, who would you pick and why?
Paris Hilton and I’d choose dead.
3. what is the strangest band-related dream (one of) you have had?
No one in our band is actually related, but it’s a dream of mine to marry a band-mate one day. I’d choose Curtis.
4. what do your fans look like?
Angels of mercy.
5. what bullshit do you run into at most every show that makes you think “man, this bullshit again?”"
Sodomy laws.
bonus question: why won’t you forget to tip your bartender?
Karmic blackmail.
Hi, everybody. As you know, we here at Superstarcastic frown on blatant self-promotion, but i’m making a rare exception to post a video we at IfIHadAHiFi HQ made in April for our upcoming album:
IfIHadAHiFi: “Success! Success! Success!”
Directed by Jay Bauman
Featuring Dixie Jacobs of white, wrench, conservatory on guest vocals
Shot at the Borg Ward, Milwaukee, WI
From the album Fame By Proxy out Sept. 23rd on Latest Flame Records
Drink it in, y’all!
… I indulged in the pleasure of seeing last Friday night Phil Lesh & Friends, that is, the bassist for the Grateful Dead and his new band. So in my years, particularly those within and immediately following college, I amassed a hefty knowledge for the Dead’s catalogue, and found Phil & Friends the Dead offshoot most likely to deliver the deep-cuts.
Friday night was, for the hard-core at least, a pleasure to behold. Of course, I don’t get the feeling that there are many visitors to this site of that ilk, so I’ll spare you the tales of the mind-fuck it was to hear ‘Viola Lee Blues > Big Boss Man > Viola Lee > About Cell Block #9 > Viola Lee’, and that was just the end of the first set.
Nor will I delve into Levon Helm’s opening set, which made a case for The Band’s endurance as the quintessential ‘American Band’ (never mind that they were Canadians, not counting Helm), and also the Grammy he scored for last year’s Dirt Farmer. But I didn’t come here to tell you about that…
I love deodorant, okay? The hippie contempt for hygiene was one of many things that I could never understand that would eventually turn me off of the scene. Seriously, my buddy and I stood next to a dude (he resembled a tattooed bean-sprout) who reeked so bad that I had to bum one of his own cigarettes to keep the funk at bay. There’s that, and the issues of remaining solvent and functional had something to do with my change of lifestyle. Nevertheless, I continue to like the music.
But across town at Schuba’s was something much closer to the mid-60’s Frisco scene from which the Dead sprang, and the hopeless Heads endlessly romanticize. I’m talking about a Mexican-American-psychedelic pop outfit that operates under the name of Alla’.
So a 1/2 hour after P&F closes, I stumble into the CD release party of Alla’s debut Es Tiempo, an impressive disc seven-years in the coming. Trust me, go see the very next show, listen to their music… not later, but now. The hybrid of mind flower noise, pop melody and Mexican folk may, on paper, seen like too much to handle, just as to read their instrumentations appears overwhelming… not so. It is disciplined w/o being sanitized, and is full of astonishing feats that don’t beg for attention. The guest string section, appearance by the Occidental Brothers Dance Band International, and the zillion other friends that provided musical muscle to the night’s set were recipe-perfect parts impact, body and balance.
The lyrics, I’m told, take on bold topics, but they are sung in Spanish and, without the benefit of a translation, uni-linguists such as myself are at a disadvantage. Still, listening to an opera in English is nary as powerful as that which is sung in foreign or even ancient tongue, and so too do Alla’s songs take on a mystical tone as sung in the members’ native language. It seems highly unlikely that the songs, were they sung in English, would have such a momentous affect. They are too pristine, veridical, captivating in a way that can only come from great vision and love for heritage without slavishness to the past.
But the unfortunate ethos of Now is to see a band because they’re about to be big. That may be the case with Alla’ (pronounced ‘Aie - ya’, means “over there”), but that’s not the reason to perk up. Go now because they’ll torque your mind and their show is a thing of beauty (which applies to their lead singer Lupe Martinez as well). Latin music tends not to be my thing, being exposed to it largely against my will from the open windows of passing cars, but this has nothing to do with that madrepore of commercial drek on La Ley. In the hands of the Ledezma Brothers, Martinez, and the many other members and guests, the Mexican folk traditions are particularly potent. Alla’ makes me want to know more about the source of their inspiration, and also the extent to which they take this extremely promising experiment.
And in an era where businesses and bands are trying everything they can to get the buyer’s attention w/ gimmicks, it’s refreshing to see a band doing so with pure music.
you know what, people? since we’re all about gypsy music on superstarcastic these days, i gots to tell you something - way before gogol bordello became the hottest thing in balkan indie rock, there was this kickass band called firewater. they’ve been off the scene for awhile because the singer, todd a. (of cop shoot cop fame), was traipsing around the planet avoiding republicans and gathering inspiration. and he found it somewhere, in turkey or indonesia or another exotic locale, because now they’re back, and they have a swaggeringly badass new album called the golden hour. it’s darkish and interesting and inventive and kind of world music-y without being annoying. if you know what i mean. and hey, judging by the cabaret-noir sound of it, tom waits would like it and what more do you need to know?
you can check out some of the tunes (the song ‘hey clown’ is quintessential firewater, reminding me of my favourite album by them, 1998’s excellent the ponzi scheme) on their myspace. do it.
First of all, just for the record, I can see a case for rating this album as high as #5 on the list of the worst album titles ever. Seriously, who vetted that? Neither one of the halves of the title of Coldplay’s new album, Viva la Vida or Death and All His Friends is particularly good, but putting them together with that oh-so-pretentious “or” makes for something that’s decidedly less than the sum of its parts, and the simple fact that it’s stolen from Frida Kahlo doesn’t make it right.
At any rate, this album marks the official moment where I don’t know what to make of Coldplay’s career. They haven’t always been popular on this particular site, but they were at one point a band I truly loved, a group who’d put out a very good EP (Brothers & Sisters) and full-length (Parachutes) of early-Radiohead-inspired guitar pop, and what’s still one of my favorite records of the ’00s (A Rush of Blood to the Head), which drowned enough melancholia to last a lifetime under so much reverb that it would have made The Edge blush. It was beautiful, it really was.
Then came X&Y, the 2005 album that was supposed to make them the biggest band on the planet, but didn’t, mostly because despite the presence of a couple of very good singles, it was an overproduced pile of sludge. It was the exact same thing as their previous albums except less so, the stale, sad sound of four guys realizing they’d already used all their ideas.
Which brings us to the aforementioned VLVODAAHF, a kitchen-sink attempt to reinvent themselves as an art-rock band, even to the point of bringing in Brian Eno to produce it. It’s got flashes where it’s excellent, but it doesn’t succeed as an album, because there’s a fine line between creative energy and desperation, a line that Coldplay continually edge over.
One of the biggest problems is the band’s continual use of “songs in sections,” pieces with at least two vastly different parts. It’s not an inherently bad idea, but the execution leaves a lot to be desired. For instance, the modal violins in “Yes!” are brilliant, as are the slide guitar bits. But then it goes into a moment of stale stadium grandstanding that lasts for a minute and a half, and by the time it comes to a merciful end, it’s difficult to want to listen to it again. And I can’t even figure out why “Lovers in Japan/Reign of Love” is one track, especially since there’s no segue in between the two parts; it simply stops and then starts again, and the second half is vastly inferior to the first.
The things that do work are impressive. The organ that drives “Lost?” adds a delicious new wrinkle to their sound, and the tympani and sawing strings make “Viva la Vida” possibly the best moment on the album. But two great songs don’t make a great album (see X&Y), and there are at least as many bad ideas as good ones — like, to take another instance, starting the record with two and a half minutes of instrumental boredom with the terribly ironic title of “Life in Technicolor.”
I had high hopes for Coldplay. But at this point, I’m starting to be afraid that their career arc is going to be a match for Liz Phair’s.
Release date: June 17, 2008
Label: Capitol
Rating: 5/10
I am not referring to the fantastic Gogol Bordello, whom i just saw tear Milwaukee’s Turner Hall ballroom a fresh asshole. No. See, Gogol Bordello play gypsy music. An accordion is appropriate and mandatory for gypsy music. No, i’m talking to all of you god damned NPR-approved alt-country Americana indie-folk motherfuckers who strap a fricking squeezebox around your shoulders whether the music warrants it or not. YOU ARE NOT “ROOTSY.” YOUR BULLSHIT ACCORDION PLAYING IS A GODDAMN AFFECTATION.
I’m specifically referring to you, Dusty Rhodes and the River Band, who opened for Gogol Bordello tonight. You are bullshit. You and your “hey everyone! I’ve got a revolutionary idea! Let’s start an indie country band with like six band members and violin and accordion and other such non-traditional rock instruments! And we’ll act like we tour in a Volkswagon and bathe with patchouli! And we’ll grow mustaches and tour with Blind Melon!” (Fucking seriously? Blind Fucking Melon?) “Because there aren’t approximately 75,649 other bands doing the exact same thing!”
That shit where you name your band after a living legend of the National Wrestling Alliance, but don’t have a single lyric as beautiful as “I’m the man of the hour/too sweet to be sour?” BULLSHIT. That shit where you are nowhere near as pummeling as a bionic elbow? UNACCEPTABLE. That part where you actually said on stage “if we all believe, you, me, and Obama will legalize marijuana!“? Out of all the cocks in the room at that moment, sir, yours was the one screaming to be punched the most at that particular moment, you god damned hippie.
When you said, “I have good news and bad news. We have one more song…” i responded by yelling “what’s the bad news?” The dirty looks were worth it! (And besides, you really set yourself up for that one, you douche.)
The only way i could hate you more is if you called yourselves “Handsome Harley Race” and didn’t write a song called “Someone Take the Damn Money.”
But mostly, it’s the goddamned accordion. Seriously, people. You’ve taken a once-marginalized, quirky and underrated instrument–one that can be truly beautifully manipulated to express true and singular emotions–and made it boring. BORING. YOU TOOK AN INSTRUMENT THAT ONCE WAS ONLY SEEN IN POPULAR MUSIC IN THE HANDS OF “WEIRD AL” YANKOVIC AND MADE IT BORING.
HOW DID YOU DO THAT.
ALL OF YOU.
FUCK YOU.
DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE
geez, this year is half over already! anyway, since it’s music season in chicago, i got inspired - here are my favourite songs released so far in 2008, if you care. not as many brilliant new albums as last year but some good stuff for sure.
and yes, you can commence making fun of me for being a list-making geek now.
playlist:
why? - “the vowels pt.2″ (from the new alopecia album , one of the most interesting albums i’ve heard in awhile)
noah and the whale - “5 years time” (from s/t ep. every song on it is better than good.)
british sea power - “lights out for darker skies” (from do you like rock music? they are the poor man’s arcade fire, it’s a fair album with a few really, really good songs like this one)
hot chip - “ready for the floor” (on made in the dark. it’s fun, dance-y, makes you want to shake your proverbial tail feather)
devotchka - “the clockwise witness” (on a mad & faithful telling, one of the best of the year so far. it’s an amazing album of weird gypsy music)
the mountain goats - “autoclave” (from heretic pride, mildly disappointing but i still heart john darnielle)
cat empire - “no longer there” (just released album of the same name in the states, touring in the fall. huzzah!)
wolf parade - “california dreamer” (on at mount zoomer. pitchfork loves these guys)
islands - “creeper” (on arm’s way. i surprised myself by really digging this whole album)
the indelicates - “sixteen” (from american demo, one of my favourites of the year. this album is SO AWESOME)
nick cave and the bad seeds - “hold on to yourself” (on dig lazarus dig, which i’m warning you is depressing. hey, it’s nick cave, what did you expect?)
the magnetic fields - “too drunk to dream” (an awesome song from the much anticipated and slightly disappointing distortion album)
vampire weekend - “i stand corrected” (s/t album. and yes, yes, they are riding the hype train. no, they aren’t brilliant but it’s fun summery light music)
my morning jacket - “aluminum park” (the second half of evil urges kicks ass. the first part is meh.)
james - “of monsters & heroes & men” (from hey ma. um, it’s james. their first album in 8 years. i love everything about it. you should too.)
the raveonettes - “sad transmission” (from lust lust lust - more spaced out 50’s music. must be played loud)
we are scientists - “that’s what counts” (on brain thrust mastery. well done geek rock.)
martha wainwright - “love is a stranger” (on i know you’re married. rufus’ little sister covering the eurythmics)
so there you have it. questions? comments? criticisms? threats?
What is it to be original? To throw out everything that worked before and start anew to grab attention? It worked so well for U2 that they had to return to trite pop tunes to recover their fanbase. How about breathing new life into an existing format? Hell yes, when it comes to the likes of the blues, Tom Petty and Mason Jennings. The latter, on his latest release, goes beyond making fresh the groove we’ve been hearing for years… he toys with the pedantic and makes it grand, cathartic even.
In The Ever is mostly an album about faith. Not that Jennings is proselytizing… it’s a praise album that addresses both the joy of belief and the struggle to transcend. It’s also peppered with a few hit singles, political numbers and regular love songs that Jack Johnson - who appears on the album - would be doing if he would get over that dopey beach bum malaise. Take ‘Never Knew Your Name’… the name and chorus could mislead the casual listener into thinking that it’s about finding the elusive Dream Girl, but it’s Jennings’ tale of a life spent loving the Benevolent Creator and discovering one day that He can be called by name.
It’s far from being filed under ‘Christian Rock’, thankfully. The name itself dignifies what is mere Suck Music about Jesus… this makes life hard for those of us who want something of substance when it comes to the image of the Eternal in art. 100’s of years ago Christ was inspiring the Sistine Chapel and Handel’s Messiah… now it’s Jars of Clay?
And not that Jennings’ beliefs will ever get the Pope’s endorsement, what with ‘I Love You [Jesus] and Buddha Too’, which contrasts the rigid interpretation of the axiom “a man cannot serve two masters”. A closet deist, perhaps? Nevertheless, his is an album not of religious music but music made religiously. Strange that such a simple thing as expressing love and wonderment of Jesus (and other theophanies) can be so stunning, but Jennings’ states it plainly and powerfully without getting weird or alienating an agnostic audience.
And he can swing a good jingle too, lest we forget that life is also about things like sing-alongs, beer and chicks…
The conventional love songs are worthy of Jennings’ most enjoyable material. ’Memphis, Tennessee’ and ‘Your New Man’, remind me of that rare playful side of Bob Dylan that shines on tunes like ‘If You Got to Go, Go Now’, apropos of Jennings’ deft contributions to I’m Not There. ‘Fighter Girl’ is the album’s big single, and is a little too contrived for my taste, but I would probably like it fine were it not destined to be on every Mix CD For [New Girlfriend's Name] of ‘08.
As expected from Mason Jennings, that mid-range voice w/ just a hint of asperity, and raw-yet-inspired instrumentation makes for ’08’s best road music to date. But the real reward is paying attention and being consumed by such well-guided sincerity and timelessness. This guy is good.
Brushfire Records, May 20, 2008
And apropos to nothing, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Joie!!!
