Words and Photos by Andrew Parks

The Artist and Their Latest Release: Matthew Dear, Black City (Ghostly, 2010)

Who He Opened For: Tom Tom Club @ Irving Plaza, 1.12.11

Why He Could Have Been Headlining: Nothing against the Talking Heads side project that isn’t David Byrne or anything, but the latest iteration of Matthew Dear’s live band is easily his tightest yet. Enough that we left after they wrapped a 45-minute support slot set.

Which isn’t to say that they’re simply translating the producer/multi-instrumentalist/singer’s twisted pop songs for the stage. If anything, the most successful set pieces were the ones that scrapped Dear’s original script, from the way the groove-locked quartet stripped the micro-house sheen from “Tide”—changing its direction from a dance song to a desperate plea—to their innate ability to make us actually like “Monkey.” (It’s one of the only Black City tracks we could do without. “You Put a Smell On Me,” meanwhile, is still a consummate crowd pleaser with an awful title.)

Dear’s well-oiled dance machine will headline a handful of shows later this month, but what this group really needs is a month or so on the road with an artist who’s already pulling the cool kids in. Then, and only then, will these cuts finally get the crossover respect they deserve, proving just how genre-less a couple laptops, lean bass lines, carefully cleaved chords, steady-handed drums, and disembodied horn blasts can be.

The Artist: Yet another indication that the Big Apple finally has a burgeoning ‘metal scene’.

Their Latest Release: Renihilation (20 Buck Spin)

Who They Opened For: Rwake and Shrinebuiler @ (Le) Poisson Rouge, 11.15.09

Why They Should Be Headlining Art-Damaged Metal Shows: While it’d be easy to draw a direct connection between Liturgy and their borough mates Krallice, Brooklyn’s two dark horses apply completely different approaches to black metal. While the former breaks their torrential downpour tracks up with meditative interludes—as if they’re seeking a greater truth right on stage—the latter shreds their way across an endless downward spiral, letting their tracks breathe for 10 minutes at a time.

Consider Liturgy the closest we’ve come to shock therapy, then, as they satisfy our short attention spans with primal screams and windswept riffs. And then there’s the brutish, bare bones time-keeping of Greg Fox, a punishing drummer despite a kit that has nothing but a kick, snare, and crash cymbals. Before witnessing his wild Whack-a-Mole routine we assumed all black-metal drummers were disposable at best. Apparently not.

Words and Photos by Andrew Parks

The Artist: One of the most genuinely intense—and absolutely essential—live acts of our time. The band’s new record is also the best metal album of the year, hands down.

Their Latest Release: Axe to Fall (Epitaph/Deathwish)

Who They Opened For: Mastodon and the stars of Metalocalypse @ Hammerstein Ballroom, 10.29.09

Why the Bill Should Have Been the Other Way Around: Here’s the thing: Converge shouldn’t headline over the aforementioned acts, as they’re both custom built for big crowds and flashy backdrops. However, they shouldn’t be playing a venue like Hammerstein Ballroom either. We know why they need to from time to time—to expose their uncompromising sound to a vast new audience—but the fact of the matter is very few people had the patience for songs like “Eagles Become Vultures,” “Concubine” or a sludge-dipped “Worms Will Feed” last night. Skipping right to the Gorillaz portion of the evening seemed way more important. Or as one girl said with a scowl when singer Jacob Bannon promised four more songs: “Are you SERIOUS?”

Not that Converge didn’t give it their all, plowing the apathetic room over in the same way they would a rabid club crowd. Bannon was especially unhinged, using the extra breathing room of Hammerstein’s huge stage as his very own treadmill. He was also as appreciative as ever, thanking every blank stare for sticking around and reaching out into the void—a massive gap between the stage and a crowd barrier—for something, anything reciprocal.

It’s all good, though. We didn’t fear for our life at a Converge show for a change, the “this is for the hearts still beating” part of “Last Light” still gave us goosebumps, and hey, at least we’ll always have Europa.

And now, for some photos. An alternate color set is available here.

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[Photo by Alexander Wagner]

The Artist: Yet another Scottish act with anger management issues.

Their Latest Release: These Four Walls (FatCat)

Who They Opened For: The Twilight Sad and Brakes Brakes Brakes @ Bowery Ballroom, 10.7.09

Why the Bill Should Have Been the Other Way Around: Judging by the people who packed Bowery Ballroom at 8:30 p.m. on a Tuesday—singing along to nearly every song—there’s clearly a demand for We Were Promised Jetpacks in these parts. Enough to leave some of the room so satisfied they didn’t bother sticking around for the night’s other two bands. Maybe those fans were as spent as frontman Adam Thompson, a singer who doesn’t even need a mic half the time; not when his steel-plated lungs are able to carry his howling lead vocals through such hearty standouts as “Quiet Little Voices,” “It’s Thunder and It’s Lightning” and “Ships With Holes Will Sink.”

See what we mean in a pair of exclusive acoustic performances, captured by self-titled at SxSW earlier this year.

Words and Photos by Andrew Parks

The Artist: Warp’s most promising beat conductor since the halcyon days of Aphex Twin and Autechre

His Latest Release: LA EP 3×3 (Warp)

Who He Opened For: Battles and !!! @ Terminal 5, 9.4.09

Why the Bill Should Have Been the Other Way Around: Given his early time slot in last night’s Warp anniversary show—8 p.m., right before the disco-punk delirium of !!!—we expected Flying Lotus to ease into his set with laid-back downtempo loops and hazy hip-hop sketches, as explored on last year’s excellent Los Angeles LP and his Dabyre-like debut album, 1983. Maybe even something as sleepy as this remix.

Man, were we wrong. Possibly hinting at the direction of his next disc, FlyLo dove into an hour-long meditation on the speaker-imploding brilliance of “Amen” breaks and unfiltered drum & bass. That’s right: despite random releases on Tectonic and Ramp, the next logical step for his ever-evolving productions is dubstep’s manic, mallet-wielding godfather. Either that, or FlyLo simply felt like getting his Grooverider on last night, along with snippets of Saturday morning cartoons, Radiohead and WarGames.

Whatever the reason, we were floored by FlyLo’s laptop/controller skills and just how much he owned a room as cavernous as Terminal 5. Suddenly the Coltrane connection makes perfect sense.

Here are some Flying Lotus videos. We’re uploading a couple of free mixes and streaming songs right now, and will share those in a little bit as well.

Words and Photos by Andrew Parks

The Artist: A Do Make Say Think side project that shreds.

Their Latest Release: Threats/Worship (out September 1 through Vice)

Who They Opened For: Children @ Glasslands, 8.13.09

Why the Bill Should Have Been the Other Way Around: Contrary to their sheep-chasing name and Six Degrees of Broken Social Scene connection, Lullabye Arkestra don’t rely on pristine indie pop hooks to carry us home; no, they sling subterranean bass lines and sucker punch drum fills like a lo-fi Kylesa. Hell, they even covered the Cro-Mags’ anthem “We Gotta Know” on Thursday night, causing one rabid concertgoer (Amazing Baby guitarist Simon O’Connor) to rush the stage, pump his fist like a piston, and subtly sing along.

Just about everyone else was too busy depleting Glasslands’ free Colt 45 stash to truly appreciate the nihilistic noise of Canada’s craziest married couple (singer/bassist Kat Taylor-Small and drummer/singer Justin Small). Which is too bad—Cold 45’s terrible no matter how you repackage it, and Lullabye Arkestra, well, they’re easily one of the most surprising extreme music acts we’ve seen all year.

Be sure to check them out when they return for a full tour this fall. Until then…

Words and Photos by Aaron Richter

Los Angeles’ HEALTH perform as if they hate their instruments. Mics get tossed (or simply dropped). Drums get obliterated. Pedals and knobs get abused. And guitars get utterly manhandled. Yet HEALTH performs as if they cannot live without their instruments, like they’re all part of one body, integral pieces of the whole HEALTH experience, without one and the whole thing crumbles to bits. Supporting Black Lips’ security-infuriating set at Sunday’s JellyNYC Williamsburg Waterfront show, the Trent Reznor-approved four-piece writhed in uncontrollable ecstasy as they unveiled songs from their upcoming epic of a record, Get Color. Lead single “Die Slow” churned with dark passion while “Eat Flesh” let the group swing freely, flailing and thrashing to help unleash the shocking violence within the songs abrasive shell. And at the center of it all is bassist John Famiglietti—a genius of movement—whose towering, swirling presence onstage is a thrill in itself to watch.

Nick McMaster will destroy you at "(Bass) Guitar Hero" any day.

[Text/Photos by Andrew Parks]

While we certainly expected a LOUD supporting slot set from Krallice on Tuesday night, self-titled didn’t think the Dysrhythmia/Byla/Gorguts/Behold… The Arctopus/Mick Barr-related project would blow our eardrums out by their second song. Sticking to a largely-instrumental downward spiral of unfiltered shredding (guitar pedals? who needs ‘em!) and dueling from-the-depths-of-hell vocals (Barr and bassist Nick McCaster, a leaning tower of pure fret-climbing power), the quartet blew away any naysayers and even nailed “Forgiveness In Rot,” the ravenous 15-minute closer of Krallice’s self-titled debut.

No wonder why these frenzied fools made our best-of list last year. And with a new Dysrhythmia disc on the way soon, we’ll likely be praising at least one of Krallice’s members later this summer. Now for some photos and a free MP3…

Download audio file (Krallice_Wretched.mp3)

“Wretched Wisdom”

]]> http://www.self-titledmag.com/home/2009/05/27/support-this-and-this-weeks-must-see-opening-act-iskrallice/feed/ 0 http://www.self-titledmag.com/home/2009/04/29/support-this-and-this-weeks-must-see-opening-band-is-the-twilight-sad/ http://www.self-titledmag.com/home/2009/04/29/support-this-and-this-weeks-must-see-opening-band-is-the-twilight-sad/#comments Wed, 29 Apr 2009 19:23:19 +0000 selftitled http://www.self-titledmag.com/home/?p=2500

[Text/Photos by Andrew Parks; slideshow available here]

There’s something about The Twilight Sad; something that makes us root for them more than any other up-and-coming band these days. Come to think of it, the reason is simple: more than two years after the release of their full-length debut, Fourteen Autumns & Fifteen Winters, we still listen to the damn thing. At least once a month. Repeatedly. Being based in Brooklyn, the band’s bombastic approach suits our daily subway rides well, making self-titled feel like we’re the lead in an melodramatic music video, shot on the L line with lots of quick cuts and sepia-toned mood lighting. 

Beyond that, a song like “That Summer, At Home I Had Become the Invisible Boy” makes us shudder and shake almost as much as the group’s awkward singer (James Graham) does onstage. Awkward in a forgivable way, mind you, as if Graham didn’t choose the spotlight. He was simply shoved into it as soon as everyone took notice of his booming Scottish lilt and pitch-dark lyrics like “and does your fear not grow/when you see that you’re all mine/see that you’re all mine/with a knife in your chest.” Watching a guy deliver a line that twisted with utter sincerity—his id fully exposed, his back turned ever so slightly, and his hands gripping a mic for dear life—well, that sort of stuff sticks with you.

Of course, it helps that guitarist Andy MacFarlane smears every syllable in dollops of feedback and careening chords, leading drummer Mark Devine and bassist Craig Orzel down a path that’s louder, and arguably more visceral, than their countrymen Mogwai. And just when you think they’ve gone soft, introducing an alternate version of “Cold Days From the Birdhouse,” the set closer erupts into its original incarnation, eventually leaving a trail of decimated notes in its wake…

[Photos/Text by Andrew Parks; slideshow available here]

The last time we saw Torche open for someone, the flame-throwing power trio was still on Robotic Empire, CBGB’s was a few months away from closing, and The Sword was sitting pretty in the show’s headliner slot. Needless to say, we didn’t feel the need to stick around that night; not when Torche’s sludge-slinging jams left a sufficient ringing sensation in our ears and a Steve Brooks-ian smile across our otherwise jaded face. 

Sorry Dredg, but the same circumstances kept us from sticking around for your prog-tastic set on Sunday night. To be fair, looming deadlines were partly to blame. But beyond that, it’s easy to say enough amp-impoding music is enough when it’s delivered in the lurching, lock-step doom/stoner rock/deviant pop hybrid that Torche has perfected over the past four years.

Speaking of, Torche’s well-oiled sound—Molasses City Mayhem straight out of, err, Miami—has gotten even gnarlier with Brooks’ ex-Floor-mate/fellow guitarist, Juan Monotya, out of the equation. We’re talking some serious highway to Hades shit, as epitomized by spot-on renditions of “Pirana,” “Sandstorm,” “Warship” and a particularly nasty “Amnesian.” There were others; we just have a hard time remembering titles when a set’s this blustery. Some photos survived, though …

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