Dancing in the dark at Studio B
As you may or may not have heard, Lindstrøm was in town last night, taking us all on a tour of the space disco station in his mind. And what a utopian place it was, reminding us of the Oslo guide Mr. Feedelity contributed to our current issue. Click the photo after the jump for the full story and watch out for our third issue in a couple weeks …
Love the Laura Palmer pose
If other blogs are to be believed (and hey, when are they not?), the Golden Filter are “fucking brilliant” and “the best thing ever.” Here’s our attempt at bypassing a stack of overly dramatic pull quotes …
Start planning your trip to Indio (or thinking of excuses to stay home). Every year the fine folks at Goldenvoice plop out some big names (The Cure, My Bloody Valentine, Morrissey, Yeah Yeah Yeahs), a few surprises (Leonard Cohen, Amy Winehouse, Public Enemy), discouraging letdowns (where’s Blur?) and a couple pure duds (Paul McCartney). So it’s time to weigh the pros and cons. Sure, we’d be totally psyched to catch Cohen live, but really, who wants to see him perform as thousands of wasted retards suffering from UV poisoning singing along to “Everybody Knows” in your ear? Not us. (We have a similar fear about the reverse intimacy of an Antony and the Johnsons desert session.) Check out the official Coachella poster and self-titled’s breakdown after the jump.
[Photo by J. Bennett]
While we’re always happy to hear from Honus Honus of Man Man infamy, the following clips have us more worried about his delicate state of mind than usual. Carefully constructed with the anyone-can-do-it software at Xtra Normal, both videos have a “what does it all mean?” vibe that’s probably just him taking the piss. You be the judge, though, and watch this spot for top secret news about the band’s longform music video soon …
By Aaron Richter
We get a lot of crap CDs at the self-titled offices. But once in a while, a pleasant surprise slips into our promo stack. Here’s a recent delivery that knocked the S/T staff on its collective ass.
[Photos by Andrew Parks; slideshow available here]
Token heckler statement: “Why don’t you play some more Drive Like Jehu covers, you emo pussies!”
To be clear, Tournament are not weak-willed descendants of Dashboard Confessional. Unfortunately, they’re also not Kylesa, the sludge-slinging, crust-punk-catering Savannah band that made a rare back-to-basics appearance in the Charleston’s basement last night. Yes, basement—the kind of overstuffed spot that encourages pinball-like mosh pits and holds 100 people, tops.
Needless to say, self-titled happily revisited our Buffalo hardcore roots as we fired off shots from the floor and dodged quite a few sucker punches. Tournament was tight, Tombs was fierce (as in, really really heavy, not the Christian Siriano definition), and Kylesa was incredible.
Be sure to watch our daily site and upcoming digital issues for more from Tombs and Kylesa, as both bands are about to release serious Top 10 contenders for extreme music aficiandos. (Tombs is prepping their Relapse debut for a February 17 release, and Kylesa just completed their Static Tensions LP for a March 17 street date. Both are highly recommended.)
Now, onto the windmills and drop kicks …
By Aaron Richter
Kele Okereke might hold down the current title of “British Singer Most Likely to Dab His Tears With a Morrissey Poster,” but Lady Sovereign’s return could leave the Bloc Party frontman sounding as cheery and optimistic as a motivational speaker. On her second album, Jigsaw, the saddest midget in the game lets her emotions flow, and self-titled dissects all the wrist-cutting weepiness.
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By Aimee Rawlins
Franz Ferdinand is a singles band: Count five for the group’s eponymous debut, four for You Could Have It So Much Better. Whether it’s with “Michael” and “Take Me Out” or “The Fallen” and “Do You Want To,” the Scottish foursome’s standout tracks are unmatched pop brilliance. On its third and latest release, Tonight: Franz Ferdinand, the band unveils a record inspired by a raucous night on the town—and everything that comes along with it.
“The idea was to build to a climax,” recounts frontman Alex Kapranos, “to almost give it the dynamic of a night out, psyching yourself up and going wild and then coming back down and dreaming and drifting off.”
A concept album about partying? Interesting. Do tell us more, Alex …
[Photos by Andrew Parks, slideshow version available here]
A wicked wind, frigid temperatures and a late one last night meant we really didn’t want to leave the office on Saturday. What got in the way of some much-needed rest, however, was a rare hometown set by the post-punk goddesses in ESG. Appearing onstage to a roar of applause, the Scroggins sisters tore through such Lower East Side standards as “You Make No Sense,” “Moody,” “You’re No Good” and one of the most heavily-sampled (and uncleared) singles of all time, “UFO.” (The undisputed queens of New York Noise famously pressed “Sample Credits Don’t Pay Our Bills” in 1992 to emphasize how much they’ve been screwed by hip-hop producers.)
As you’ll see by the following shots, ESG’s 60-minute set was a glaring reminder of just how influential their punk-funk sound has been on acts as diverse as the Rapture, Liars (see “Tumbling Walls Buried Me in the Debris With ESG,” which also swipes its siren sound from “UFO”) and such contemporaries as Liquid Liquid, A Certain Ratio and PiL. Seriously now, how can you not appreciate the locked-down grooves of a song like this:
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Words and Photos by Aaron Richter
Music this good must be easy to sell. Even with the record industry struggling, a band like Portland, Oregon’s Hockey is a golden nugget for any label savvy enough to snatch ‘em up (in this case, Capitol–lucky bastards). Hockey’s appeal is broad, and the songs are satisfying. The band members look good, and they play their instruments well. The charisma is abundant, and the potential is huge.
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