[Color photos by Andrew Parks; Black & white shots by Aaron Richter]

Melodramatic much? That’s one way of putting M83’s rather epic set at Webster Hall on Friday night. Setting things off with a carpe diem rendition of “Run Into Flowers,” Anthony Gonzalez led his airtight backing band through nearly two hours of sci-fi noir scores and widescreen pop that covered most of Saturdays=Youth and just about every back catalogue cut that matters. As sufficiently over-the-top as the whole thing sounded, the band’s impeccable mix could have been cranked up a bit. As self-titled’s associate editor, Aaron Richter, said, “Black Rebel Motorcycle Club’s acoustic show at Webster Hall was louder than this.”  Because of this, the edge was taken off such gorgeous and grand cuts as “Teen Angst,” “Moonchild,” and “Kim & Jessie,” keeping M83 from reaching truly transcedent heights.

In other words, we left feeling uplifted instead of what we were really looking for: an experience that bowls us over and sweeps us straight off the ground.

As for M83’s openers, we dig School of Seven Bells‘ Ghostly debut so much that we got to Webster at the crack of 8 to catch their entire set. “Half Asleep” quickly reminded us why it’s one of our favorite singles of the year, but the trio’s set suffered from headphone listen syndrome. Sorry guys, but Webster Hall is and always will be too cavernous to capture an album as intricate and rich as Alpinisms. That said, SVIIB is a must-see as soon as they start headlining mid-sized clubs. Lots of photos after the jump …

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Photo by Ryan Russell

While we hear that Pelican plans on hibernating this winter and emerging with a new album sometime next year, the band’s still plugging away with the promotion of their current long player, City of Echoes. That includes their headlining spot on this month’s Hydra Head’s “Champions of Sound” tour, as well as the Headbanger’s Ball premiere of the band’s “Lost in the Headlights” video.

Check it after the jump and be sure to look out for the cameo from a certain Juan Perez. (self-titled staff writer, J. Bennett, also contributed to the shoot. Check out his Jay Reatard cover story here.)
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HEALTH pleads its case for its band name to appear in all caps.

By Aaron Richter

My favorite thing about HEALTH is that they’re not ugly. My second favorite thing about HEALTH is that nothing really seems to fit as you might expect it. First you’ve got a burly metalhead drummer brutalizing the demonic rhythmic core for three skinny boys, who flail about with jerky fey poses and unleash industrial guitar that grinds like it might as well be a painfully squealing execution scene itself in the next Saw film. Then dude starts singing (an element executed much better, and with more forceful emotion, live than on the group’s muddled self-titled debut) and it’s as if he’s completely blocked out his bandmates and decided to dump a bucket of steaming angst over everything, nearly bawling his eyes out like a possessed emo frontman who just chomped a few doom pills and is convinced he’s the antichrist (or at least one of his servants). Oh, and there are rimshots.

Click through the jump for more pics from the show. Read more

Jay Reatard drops his Flying V, recreates the cover of ‘Superfuzz Bigmuff’

Photos by Andrew Parks

All right, we gotta be honest here: Brooklyn, you nearly brought self-titled to tears on Saturday. While the weather outside looked like monsoon season as Glasslands opened its doors, you guys packed the place within a few hours. As a thank you, we encourage anyone who had a hell of a time with us to e-mail events@self-titledmag.com about who you’d like to see at s/t’s next party, as we plan on booking more cheap, intimate, no-bullshit shows in the coming months. More details to come soon. For now, the evidence …

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self-titled Managing Editor Arye Dworken is a damn handsome man. Last night he had his small-screen debut on MTV2’s Subterranean with an interview of Brooklyn duo Matt & Kim. Arye asked the tough questions and looked like a regular John Norris. (Too bad they spelled his name wrong…oopies!) However, we only have one question for you, Arye: Where did you get your shirt? 

As you might have noticed in recent months, self-titled struck a loose partnership with MTV2’s Subterranean show earlier this year, one where the folks over there shared their favorite clips with us while we schooled them on some of our favorite acts. Tonight at 1 a.m. EST, our managing editor, Arye Dworken, takes things to another level as Subterranean’s Matt & Kim-interviewing host.

We hear the program’s looking to finally fill its vacant talking-head position, so if you like what you see—despite Arye’s young Woody Allen demeanor—be sure to shoot us some feedback and we’ll pass it on to the proper authorities.

Mazel tov, Arye!

Peek-a-boo, we see Yelle

Photos by Andrew Parks

While this post marks the end of our photo set overview of the Airwaves festival, we still have a number of stories to share, including last week’s Top 5 performances and a thorough Icelandic music package that’ll run in the third digital issue of self-titled later this year. For now, here are some of the last sets we’ll remember from one of the most rewarding fests self-titled’s ever witnessed.

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Ólafur Arnalds goes looking for the leprechaun at the end of Iceland’s famous ‘Golden Waterfall’

Text/Photos by Andrew Parks

If you’re from a major city and have never been to Reyjkavík before, finding yourself lost at 1 a.m. on a weeknight is both disorienting and a bit scary. Namely because the place is so quiet, with just one 24-hour store shilling 7-Eleven-esque fare and a ridiculous amount of lubricant. (Seriously; the 10-11 spot—way to be original with the name, guys—in the middle of the downtown area has a healthy assortment right by the register instead of, say, candy or packs of gum.)

As we found out on Friday, the reason for the unsettling silence is Iceland’s work-hard-and-party-harder policies, which reminds self-titled of the slories we’ve heard about Tokyo, a place that also appears reserved at the office and home … until Friday hits. While all Icelandic bars and clubs must be closed by 1 a.m. during the week, they’re open until 6 on the weekend. Which basically means a balls-to-the-wall vibe of broken glass, everywhere, people pissing in the streets like they just don’t care. And mating. There’s lots of mating.

To give you an idea of the contrast between Icelandic natives at night and the peaceful facade they project during the day, our summary of Friday shots is heavy on the crowd photos, with a nice counterpoint of Ólafur Arnalds taking us out into the locales you’d hit while on the country’s popular “Golden Circle” tour.

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Photos by Andrew Parks

It’s all coming back to us …

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A local Reyjkavík store sticks it to the country’s prime/finance ministers

Photos by Andrew Parks

So we’re finally out of the frozen tundra/Lord of the Rings fantasia that is Iceland and ready to share a stack of coverage from Airwaves ‘08. Since almost every interview we scheduled turned from a one-hour affair to (A) an afternoon exploring the outskirts of Reykjavík or (B) an entire midnight-to-6 evening crawling the bars and clubs of the city’s Brennivín-fueled beating heart, we’re saving our extensive Iceland package for the third issue of self-titled, out sometime this winter. For now, expect a string of photo sets, band profiles and reviews over the next couple days, beginning with a daily rundown of candid and live photos from the fest—everything from CSS to Crystal Castles to the astounding amount of local acts that blew us away better than South by Southwest has in years. What can we say; we wish you could have been there, but since you weren’t, here’s the next best thing …

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