- Doug Stephen in FOR FUCK SAKE EVERYONE KNOCK IT OFF WITH THE GOD DAMNED ACCORDIONS JESUS CHRIST Woah, okay Vice Magazine.
- Doug Stephen in Vampire Weekend - S/T I’ve never listened to a solo Paul Simon record, or to Graceland, so I don’t know about that. But the songs I’ve heard by Vampire Weekend...
- bjyhore in New Single: Patrick Wolf’s “Accident and Emergency” She had actually been robbed of it cant be cruel. Mistress. I could do. jennifer lopez porn Three.
Replicator tour diary 2007.
Hi everybody, i’m Conan Neutron, I play in the band Replicator from Oakland, CA. This is our tour diary, thanks to the SSC for asking us to do it here.
We’ve been around making crazy artynoisyrock music since late 99’-early 2000. Chances are you haven’t heard of us (although Joie did see us play in Denver, Colorado with two other paying customers at 6:30 at night in 2002, and we’ve played with the super excellent Ifihadahifi many, many times, of which Dj is a member). Patton Oswalt kinda likes us, Warren Ellis wrote some nice stuff about us once, and we were once featured on an Awesome TV show with Les Savy Fav.
We’ve played with bands you probably know, Trans Am, Melt Banana, Big Business, Blood Brothers, Oxes, Rye Coalition, BABYLAND, Hella, Akimbo.. etc. Etc.
But when it comes down to it, we’re just another band out there. We do this because it’s an honest expression of what we are trying to achieve creatively and… when it all comes together it gives us a lot of enjoyment, sometimes other people enjoy it too, that rules. We like to think we put our all into this thing and never give anything less then 100%. The idea is we try to return the asskicking that music has given us, plain and simple, we want to add to the greater whole and give something back. Also we want to be given bowls of only red M&MS and have nobody look us in the eye at the venue. Read more »
One of my favorite ways to see a film is to go in knowing as little as possible about it save for the knowledge that people I trust like it. I’m totally willing to put up with the jeers from film snobs in order to gain this experience. The stigma of ignorance is a low price to pay for the treat of this sort of unexpected goodness. I don’t get the same experience often with live shows. Someone is always filling me in with the dope before I get there. And that’s cool too. But… unexpected goodness is what I got this past Wednesday at Chielle on Colfax Avenue. The Detroit Cobras were rockin’ out in the Bluebird next door but the all the wall to wall people in the fab little store that made room for us knew we were in a great place for music that night.
I decided to go to the show in the first place because I wanted to hear A Dog Paloma. That was reason enough to go for me. Although I’d seen the lo-fi flyer on the bulletin board at the bookstore, I was too preoccupied with a week of speeding tickets, tow truck bills and other bad news and didn’t pay much attention to who else was playing. Not yet anyway. I just knew that Joe Sampson and Nathaniel Rateliff could be counted on to counteract the crummy and melancholy October days that had gripped on tight. And they did make my week better. Joe and Nathaniel are great to hear on their own…but together…chalk it up to chemistry or creative competitiveness but either way they sound beautiful. I like Joe’s songs and am glad to sit and listen anytime he sings them. The Wheel finished off the set solo delivering a single song with energy and intensity that probably was as loud as it got all night. And it was great.
Next up was Karl Blau. Watching Blau perform was like hanging in the kitchen while the best cook you know makes your dinner. He’d start out by making a vocal beat or backing sound and with the click of a pedal it’d be looping then he’d play over that and then add another sound or line and layer that on top and before you knew it you were surrounded with an array of sounds like a beautiful and tasty plate of food in front of you. Sometimes seeing how things are put together takes away from the magic of it, but Blau’s approach was like a super cool sleight of hand…you thought you saw everything he was doing but near the end of a song, you’re looking at him up there with his brilliant red guitar and you realize that there’s so much more going on than the pieces you saw put together. I don’t think I’m easily impressed, but this was one of the coolest performances I’ve ever witnessed. Low key, and it still blew you away. He makes a subscriber cd called KELP! monthly and I’ll bet that stuff is like having Christmas twelve times a year.
Finally up walks Calvin Johnson, just him and his acoustic classical guitar. He stands there and looks Read more »
The Larimer has shiny new bathrooms upstairs. The infamous ones downstairs are now nothing more than empty space. Like any other girl who has had to use the LL facilities, I’ve dreaded the broken toilets, the door with no hinges and that damn useless curtain. Boys tell me that’s nothing compared to the old men’s room, um, scent. So no question that the new bathroom is a better place, but still, I kind of miss the old one now that it’s gone because it took time for it to be the way it was. Gross, yes, but it also it had character with all those stickers and grit. There was history in there. And since there was no Las Vegas investor to preserve it, I suppose it’s exclusive to the memory banks of those who were there.
Seeing Mudhoney felt kinda like that though. And damn if they didn’t sound just like Mudhoney. They did! And they played the stuff the aging flannels and fuzzes remember from back in the day: You Got It, Touch Me I’m Sick, Mudride, Need, Chain that Door, and more, topping it all off with a raucous mosh pit pleasing encore of In ‘n’ Out of Grace and Hate the Police. I haven’t spun Superfuzz Bigmuff lately. In fact, I lost my copy of it over a decade ago. Though I might have a tape with that EP on it somewhere. But I was amazed at how these songs have permanently imbedded themselves in my memory. At the first note of each, I realized these are songs where I can recall every word, chord change, break and thump of drum. Mudhoney’s music really meant that much when Sub Pop first sent those records out into the world. And here in 2006 they filled the room with gigantic and still relevant sound.
Before the show I was trying to remember if I had seen Mudhoney perform before. I felt like I had to have, but couldn’t recall when or where. After Friday’s show I’m sure I never actually did see them and that it was a case of photo and and story induced fabricated memory. I would’ve remembered this. Yes, Mark Arm, Dan Peters, Steve Turner and Matt Lukin (or was that Guy Maddison?) played it like you, the Mudhoney fan that you are, would hope for and imagine. It’s hard to think of what to say beyond that, not without getting my shoes caught deep in the swamp of overused to stale adjectives: fuzz, rock, distortion, scream, and all those others that skirt around the old G word. They were fun and loud and…wow.
well, guess what i just found out? all of us who have been salivating for jeff mangum, the genius behind neutral milk hotel, to do something…anything…can take a drooling break this february. why february, you ask? because that’s when denver-based indie-pop darlings apples in stereo are releasing their new album new magnetic sound, featuring none other than jeff on “drums, cow object (?), backing vocals, handclaps.”
robert schneider, the apples in stereo singer, was a founding member of the elephant 6 collective, which i will always love for giving the world some pretty amazing bands like beulah (please get back together…i’ll do anything!), the gerbils and the essex green. this upcoming album, however, will come out on the brand new simian records (owned by hipster hobbit elijah wood, oddly enough). not sure of the reasons behind this but the record itself promises to be interesting…and this is despite the fact that it was just announced that drummer hilarie sidney is amicably leaving the band - since robert schneider produced nmh’s chillingly brilliant in the aeroplane over the sea i tend to trust anything and everything he touches but maybe that’s just me.
nothing has been been released (read:leaked) from it yet but some great old apples in stereo songs are on their myspace…maybe they will tide us over until we can check out this new double album early next year.Â
I don’t know if Scott Campbell, owner of the Larimer Lounge is a reliable source of information, but he says the following in his weekly newsletter:
NICK URATA!! Pssss Nick Urata is now opening the ERIC BACHMANN and RICHARD BUCKNER show this Friday!! This is also the last night of Eric’s national tour, please come welcome him back to Denver (where Eric will be living after this tour!!).
This really isn’t very newsworthy, I suppose, but I offer it in more of a tongue-sticking-out way to certain folks in certain cities. Enjoy!
Breathe. Just Breathe.
No, I’m not talking about that horrible Telepopmusik song. I’m talking, sit on your couch and stare at that piece of art or person you admired, but couldn’t figure out why. I’m standing in the audience at the Gothic, and it is so crowded. Granted, many shows I attend are crowded, but tonight seems different.
Then it hits me. I’m in a theater with hundreds of people my age! When the hell did I get so old? Thirtysomethings, who’ve come to a strangely mature show on a Wednesday night. Yes, there were younger people there, but not many. Then another thought comes to mind. I am single. I feel like the only single person there! Getting nervous, I move around to try and find someone, anyone I know. I hate going to concerts alone, but when your friends don’t like the same music, it’s kinda hard. Not that I blame them. I probably wouldn’t — and havent — gone to some shows if they asked me.
I’m standing there minding my own business, when some girl is calling for Cassie. She’s looking in my direction, so I move in case Cassie is behind me. Oh God. Now shes waving. Is she talking to me? So I answer for Cassie. The vacant look on her face clearly states she has made a mistake. “Oh,” she says. “You look just like her,” mumbling something about MySpace. The first thing I think of is, Yes, black people all look alike. And we know each other. I do not know a single black girl who would be called Cassie. If you are a black girl named Cassie, I’m sorry. That name conjures up plaid shirts and tight-ass jeans for me.
Jose Gonzales finally comes on stage, looking shy and vulnerable. Instantly, I’m intrigued. What? Im a Cancer! As he begins to play, I see everyone around me gravitate towards each other. Suddenly, I’m sticking out like a sore thumb in an audience of lovers and best friends. Staring down into my half-empty drink, I try to appear nonchalant, pretending that this beautiful music doesn’t affect me. Read more »
