2015’s made a habit out of producing incredibly strong weeks for new material and these past five days have proven to be no different. There were strong new songs from Pill, Dead Stars, Car Seat Headrest, Day Wave, Dressy Bessy, Hand of Dust, and Courtney Barnett’s excellent Boys Next Door cover. Winstons and Alex G both unveiled formidable releases and a trio of tantalizing clips from Greys, Braids, and Doe. While each of those titles are worth several glances, it was site favorites Midnight Reruns‘ latest music video to earn this post’s feature spot.
Fresh off the release of Force of Nurture‘s brilliant lead-off number “There’s An Animal Upstairs“, the band returns to their hangout mode in an endearing new clip for “Canadian Summer”. Previously, the band had all but perfected that approach with their memorably freewheeling “King of Pop” music video just over two years ago. This time around, instead of focusing on their friends and their current environment, they celebrate their roots- and drummer Sam Reitman’s father.
Guitarist/vocalist (and principal songwriter) Graham Hunt and Reitman used to practice in Reitman’s father’s home in a variety of projects and crafted the “Canadian Summer” clip as a loving homage to his influence (and his love of boats). Utilizing a meaningful place as the location for the shoot pays massive dividends, lending “Canadian Summer” an immediate, distinctly Midwestern, heart-on-sleeve feel that perfectly complements their musical sensibilities.
The song itself is an absolute monster, whose chorus hasn’t left my head since hearing it over a year ago (it’s become a rightful staple of the band’s live sets). Tempos switch, the song builds momentum, and the footage surrounding it drives home the earnest simplicity of it all. Midnight Reruns aren’t just a band that’s defined by their influences, they’re defined by their commitment to producing material that would make those influences proud. “Canadian Summer” is just the latest example of how well they’re succeeding.
Watch “Canadian Summer” below and pre-order a copy of Force of Nurture here. Beneath the music video, watch a clip of the band performing the song at the sorely missed Crunchy Frog in Green Bay, WI.
Over the course of the past year, there have been several hints dropped that this site would begin to integrate more film coverage into it’s regular day-to-day presentation of current releases in music. While film coverage will see an expanded role in the coming months, a music-oriented film premiere seemed to be the perfect place to set that slight change into motion. So, thanks to a generous offer from the excessively talented Nina Corcoran, I collected myself and dove into the heart of the New York Film Festival for the premiere of Paul Thomas Anderson’s Junun.
In the film world’s equivalent of a surprise release, many were taken aback when the project was unveiled a few months ago. For a director that previously averaged roughly four years between feature projects, the two year turnaround from The Master to Inherent Vice was deeply impressive. In tacking a third film onto that production rate just a year later, the director was nearing the realm of the miraculous. However, while Junjun‘s certainly bold, it’s very nature eschews the majority of what comprises Anderson’s fictional narratives- including an actual narrative.
The film itself runs for 54 minutes, in which Anderson presents a loving document of the recording sessions for a collaborative album featuring the considerable talents of Jonny Greenwood (the Radiohead guitarist and Anderson’s recently established go-to choice for score work) and noted Israeli composer Shye Ben Tzur. The duo travels to Rajasthan, India and pairs with a formidable collective of musicians who have dubbed themselves the Rajasthan Express.
Viewers are offered very little in the way of context or introduction (apart from a scene-setting title card), as the film immediately dives into a long, unedited take of the musicians committing sounds to record. Filmed from the center of the circle the musicians form, the camera continuously, deliberately swivels and occasionally falters in its motions, betraying the film’s limited resources (the film’s extremely small crew ran into customs issues with the equipment) while adding a surprising amount of depth and character.
After that initial sequence establishes the film’s tone, the ensuing footage offers up a snapshot of a process that serves as a (possibly unwitting) vessel for some much larger thematic subtext, most importantly the seamless merging of vastly different cultures. Junun takes great care in allowing this element of the film to thrive, occasionally offering vibrant (and fairly brief) asides that touch on the musicians’ daily struggles outside of their makeshift Mehrangarh Fort studio; “No shower. No toilet. Full power.” becomes one of the film’s most memorable rallying cries.
In weaving in and out of the studio, Anderson’s able to provide a palpable sense of place that heightens the organic feel of the recording process, which is sidetracked multiple times by a shortage of electricity (a recurring difficulty that provides Junun with some of its most human- and humorous- moments). It also provides a slight contextual illustration of the larger environment that housed the recording, an element that manifests in the music- which is strong enough to spark a near-religious experience. All of those thematic undercurrents collide in the film’s standout sequence, which makes expert use of Nigel Godrich’s drone and produces some startling aerial footage of rooftop bird-feeding, all while a memorably serene, guitar-driven piece elevates the film’s most atmospheric moment.
Several times throughout the course of Junjun, the compositions are framed in a way that manages to both be technically refined and relatively unobtrusive, relegating both filmmaker and viewer to what essentially amounts to an awed bystander. It’s an effect that’s utilized to maximum potential in the scenes where Anderson (or the select few other DP’s) are separated into exterior/interior positions, allowing for a fuller scope of the proceedings. In that separation, Anderson manages to find yet another complementary angle that effectively renders him another part of the artistic equation.
By the time the film’s wrapped, all of the key players have been granted their long-awaited introductions in closing slides and– true to the film– none of them were given a more significant slot than any of their collaborators. In underscoring the film’s thesis sequence, once again providing a setting where everyone’s on equal footing, Junun injected its closure with both gravity and elegance, allowing Anderson a full capitalization on an admirable statement.
After the film’s screening, Anderson sat down with Kent Jones– the director of the festival– and shared a deep appreciation for the 1960 classic Jazz On A Summer’s Day, a film which similarly eschewed traditional narrative in favor of an approach more suited to a diarist. In sharing anecdotes about the film’s process and on-the-fly evolution, Anderson was able to paint a compelling portrait of a project characterized by determination and a DIY ethos- which tends to be the art that’s most worthy of praise.
Watch a 2014 performance of “Alchemy” below and catch the film on MUBI, where it will be premiering online at 3 AM EST.
It’s strange for most of the buzz surrounding a show to be granted to the opening act but that seemed to be the case with last Sunday’s Bad Cello show at Palisades. The reason for that intrigue was due in part to the fact that this was to be the first time anyone would hear Patio, a band that’s been steadily practicing for months. As the trio took the stage there was a palpable level of both excitement and curiosity, with many people on hand to witness Patio’s public unveiling (they’d draw the biggest crowd of the day).
Only a few songs in, the band had staked out an identity; minimalist post-punks with a flair for wry humor, dissonance, and a strong pop sensibility (Sonic Youth’s more contained side and the early ’90s slacker punk movement stand out as very clear influences). As is always the case with new bands performing for the first time, there were a few hiccups here and there but that only seemed to lend to the project’s considerable charm. Vocal leads were traded off with a relative ease and the band committed to a gambit that came in the form of “Micro-balls”, a song rife with absurd sexual humor that paid massive dividends. The band was in complete control by the time their set closer rolled around, all but guaranteeing a promising future as a DIY staple.
Jeanette Wall, who set the show up (and who, like Patio’s Loren DiBlasi, has contributed to this site’s A Year’s Worth of Memories series), took the stage next to perform a handful of songs from her Band Practice project. Never taking herself too seriously, Wall infused her set with some genuinely entertaining (and mostly self-deprecating) banter that never came at the expense of the actual worth of her songs. All of the songs remained engaging even when stripped of their full-band trappings, allowing Wall an excess of space that was ably filled with charisma. The set was effectively split between comedy and music, with each half of the equation complementing the other to a surprising degree.
Following Wall’s entertaining theatrics were Glueboy, a young band that’s carved out a nice spot for themselves in Brooklyn’s DIY circle. Two releases into a young career, the band’s got heavy connections to DBTS and Double Double Whammy and those influences are very evident. Glueboy slipped into my listening rotation when I was looking for apartments in Brooklyn and wound up securing a spot where their bassist, Coby Chafets, was already residing (incidentally, I would move to that spot after a brief stint at DBTS).
Their brand of shambolic, punk-tinged basement pop appealed to me and allowed for some early ease of mind in the transition. However, despite that (and listening in on numerous acoustic jam sessions), I’d never seen the band play their songs live. On stage, their presence is relatively fearless, with each member making the most out of their granted space. Chafets and guitarist/vocalist Jonathan Marty trade off vocals at a rapid succession and occasionally sing in harmony, proving themselves to be a livewire act who manage to come across as both endearing and endlessly entertaining without ever sacrificing any substance.
By the time Glueboy’s explosive set had wound to an end, only a scattered handful of people remained for the electro-pop of Miscreant act Bad Cello, who still committed to the performance despite the glaring lack of numbers (I can’t think of a greater attendance disparity from opening band to headlining act that’s happened in recent memory). Showcasing material new and old, Bad Cello provided a dance-minded epilogue to the decidedly hodgepodge bill that somehow found a way to bridge a few contextual gaps. It’s difficult to imagine that each of the bills four acts won’t find their way to bigger things in their respective circuits as they move ahead. Genuine talent and a depth of promise wound up being the recurring themes of the matinee shows and it’ll be worth keeping eyes on each act as they move towards capitalization.
Watch a collection of videos from the show below and scan through a gallery of photos here.
Pile, LVL UP, and Ought have been shown no shortage of love on this site in the past so when it was announced that all three would be sharing a bill, plans were made accordingly. All three showed up in some way or another over the spread of the various best-of lists that this site ran at the end of 2014 and all three have released strong new material since the start of this year. More importantly than any of that, though, is the fact that all three are renowned live acts.
Before his October 2 performance, I’d never seen Rick Maguire (Pile’s guitarist/vocalist) perform without his main vehicle and had only heard whispering of what that experience entailed. While the set I got was just Rick performing solo, it was in a different, more expansive, capacity. Maguire’s recently introduced a looping pedal to his solo shows and wields that freedom to maximum effect, without ever losing the innate ability to completely command the attention of a room. Pulling from several patches of Pile’s discography and showcasing a tight-knit control over all aspects of his musicality, Maguire tapped into something transfixing, rendering most of the audience speechless.
LVL UP took the stage shortly after Maguire ambled off, intent on testing out some new material. Capitalizing on the overall moodiness of their Three Songs7″, they pushed even further into territory that seemed increasingly concerned with dynamics (and atmospherics). While old standbys still rang effectively (something that’s especially true for “Soft Power”), it was the new material that prompted the most intrigue. Darker, heavier, and more freewheeling than anything in the band’s discography, their set operated at a tantalizing glimpse of their next release, which promises to be nothing less than fascinating.
After LVL UP’s final static-laced, feedback-heavy noise freakout, there was an almost maddening break of 40 minutes before Ought took the stage, generating more than a little restlessness among the crowd. Any pent-up negative feelings had all but dissipated by the time Ought’s wheels had started running. While it did take the band about a song or two to really click, they were locked into something fierce before too long.
Building energy and momentum as their hour-long set progressed, the members of the band each got increasingly more aggressive with their presence, slowly building the audience to a heightened pitch that was egged on by “Beautiful Blue Sky” before being cracked wide open into complete madness with “Today More Than Any Other Day”. At that point, the audience had morphed their dancing into a chaotic swirl of bodies that saw a large portion of the people positioned towards the front pushed over the lip of the stage at one point (to his credit, Ought’s guitarist/vocalist– Tim Darcy– did issue a concerned, seamless, mid-vocal “calm down now”, without ever breaking from the trappings of the song).
By that point it was a madhouse of energy that saw the sold-out Secret Project Robot Art Experiment (Secret Project Robot, alternately) feeding into the mutual frenzy created and sustained by audience and band. Then about an hour after they started, the band closed their main set with a vicious, explosive, extended take on More Than Any Day highlight “Gemini” that saw them drag out the song’s staccato bursts to a strangely hypnotic effect.
Naturally, the crowd pleaded for an encore and likely got even more than they bargained for with an especially fiery rendition of “New Calm, Pt. 2” that loosed Darcy free from the restrictions of his guitar strap when a friend tapped in, allowing him to completely lose his mind on stage while the fresh burst of energy from the substitute guitarist elevated the song to ridiculous heights. It was a perfect closer to a night defined by nervous energy, injecting the proceedings with a shot of adrenaline that sparked an already energized crowd to liberate themselves from any remaining inhibitions while simultaneously reinforcing Ought’s position as one of today’s more exciting live prospects. Buy tickets if the tour comes to a nearby town, this is something everyone deserves to experience.
Scan through an extensive photo gallery of the show here.
Shortly after Mike Krol’s set finished, I received word that Daughter were playing a secret, unannounced-to-the-public 1 AM set and immediately made sure I found an attendance spot. The band’s been one I’ve held in high esteem and one of their quietest performances has stuck with me ever since my initial exposure to it several years ago. Very shortly into the set, it was made clear why it was kept under wraps: this was a show that the band wanted to make memorable for everyone in attendance- and it was also the show where they announced their forthcoming album, Not To Disappear.
Gracefully moving through a set that relied heavy on material from Youth but still made room for the new material, the band found themselves in fine form and silenced a sold-out room, who all grappled with various stages of awe. No matter what mode the band is in, whether they’re idling at a slow tempo or switching over to hard-hitting, they exude an impossible amount of grace. As the members trade off instruments (or trade endearing witticisms), they never seem anything less than serene.
Occasionally that calmness translates over to their music and creates an arresting, engrossing atmosphere. That intersection was never more evident than it was when the quartet unveiled the live premiere of their new single, “Doing The Right Thing” (which they’ve affectionately shorthanded to “Detroit” for the way the acronym appears on their set lists). Now that the song has a powerful video (one of the year’s finest) as an accompaniment, this memory rings even more fiercely but as the song’s closing lines were drawn out in a whisper, there was a silence so complete that thinking about it now, weeks after the fact, is enough to induce chills.
Everything in their set that had come before that moment and everything that will always have that singular performance as a reference point; it was that strong of a moment. As their set wound to a close, the band proceeded with a characteristic amount of elegance, never striking a false note. As the skies opened up outside and loosed a torrential downpour, their crowd filed out into the late-night storm in states of quiet reverie. In passing, I overheard a hushed “wow” that was immediately met with a silent nod, an exchange that acted as the perfect summation of a genuinely memorable evening.
Watch the band perform the title track from Youth below and explore a photo gallery of the show here.
Just a handful of weeks ago, this site was singing the praises of Mike Krol‘s latest effort while dissecting the enigmatic songwriter’s curious history of rotating backing bands. A little over a week ago, he brought himself and his latest group of misfits to Baby’s All Right. Before they took the stage, Dead Painters delivered a set built momentum as it went along, hitting several sweet spots along the way and converting more than a few uninitiated audience members (myself included). Before too long, Krol and everyone with him on this tour, started frantically setting up an impressive assortment of props around the perimeter of the stage.
After a brief recess and with an array of barbed wire, flood lights, strobe lights, police lights, and pedals meticulously fixed to the stage, Krol and four other members (three of which came from the sorely missed Sleeping in the Aviary) suddenly appeared in near-blackness. One foot stomp on a pedal that triggered all of the lights going off simultaneously revealed each member in full police officer attire (true to the image that Turkey‘s album art boldly presented). From that point forward, the band were a blur, careening through a discography-encompassing set with reckless abandon. Suddenly, it was a surreal cops vs. prisoners scenario where the dividing lines were continuously blurred as artist and audience fed off of each other’s incessant, insistent level(s) of energy.
Songs came at a rapid-fire pace and nearly everything in Krol’s impressive collection found representation. Everyone in the band seemed like they were trying to tear their way out of their own skin, never showing any signs of fatigue, skewing closer to a startlingly pure state of delirium. A little past the set’s mid-way point, Baby’s lights person decided to get in on the action, triggering flashes of the venue’s iconic LED backdrop, much to Krol’s excitement. By the evening’s frenzied conclusion, both the band’s lights and the venue’s lights were firing on all cylinders while Krol and his band lost themselves to their own maelstrom of limbs.
As “Less Than Together” gave way to a clever guitar-driven reprise that echoed Turkey‘s closing number, the audience was already clamoring for an encore. On the whole, it was one of the mot well-received sets I’ve ever seen at the venue; on it’s own, it was the single most memorable standalone set I’ve seen take place on that stage. Anyone that has the chance to see this band play a date on this tour should immediately make it a priority or resign themselves to kicking themselves for years to come. This was one for the books.
Watch a collection of live videos from the show below and explore a photo gallery of the evening here.
Chances are, if you’ve read this site on even a casual basis, you’ve read a handful of words about the importance of Tenement. It’s possible anyone digging deeper has caught a few mentions of bands like Technicolor Teeth, Black Thumb, or darn it., in addition to the more detailed tracking of Amos Pitsch‘s main vehicle. Now, the prolific multi-instrumentalist is back with a new outfit, made up of people involved with the previously mentioned bands (as well as Holy Sheboygan!). As has been the case with all of Pitsch’s projects, it’s taken an astonishingly short amount of time for Dusk to register as noteworthy.
Even separating the collective pedigrees of its ragtag members from the project, the music they’re making feels vital. “(Do The) Bored Recluse” is a perfect jumping off point for the band and they couldn’t have timed its release more perfectly. Dominated by warm analog tones and a punk-tinged country feel, the song’s a perfect soundtrack for the part of the world that’s transitioning from summer to fall, evoking images of leaf-strewn roads and unkempt patios. In managing to come off as both incredibly driven and surprisingly easygoing, “(Do The) Bored Recluse” strikes another delicate balance and expertly coasts to its conclusion.
A perfect piece of punchy Americana, “(Do The) Bored Recluse” isn’t just a great song; it’s one of the year’s most effective warning shots and a tantalizing signal of some extraordinary things to come. Keep both eyes peeled on this project, you won’t be disappointed.
Listen to “(Do The) Bored Recluse” below and pre-order the 7″ from Forward! Records here. Underneath the embed, explored a handful of other great songs to find release over the past three weeks.
As was stated earlier on, it’s been a while since a single stream has been featured on this site- about three weeks to be exact. To remedy that, all of the songs that have been collected over that period of time (all of which made incredibly favorable impressions) will be featured in a trio of posts, beginning with this one. Each post will focus on one genuine standout and include a hyperlinked list of the others beneath the embedded player, bringing the site up to the present release cycle.
Kicking this process off is Ernie’s raucous “Sweatpants”, an unabashedly melodic song that’s not afraid of flashing some serrated edges. A towering vocal melody powers “Sweatpants”, while the guitar, bass, and drums surge underneath. Mining the typically rich field of malaise for lyrical content, Ernie finds a contrast between spry musicality and downtrodden lyrical content and exploits the divide to maximum effect. It’d be a tremendously downcast affair were it not for the defiantly energetic musical approach. Nuanced, balanced, and deceptively subtle, “Sweatpants” is a song that deserves to be in the collections of anyone who’s ever visited this site more than once.
Listen to “Sweatpants” below and pre-order Dog Park from Soft Speak Records here. Underneath the embed, explored a handful of other great songs to find release over the past three weeks.
It’s been a while since this site has dove into full streams (or single streams, for that matter) and that will all be resolved over the weekend. Starting here, with an extremely strong self-released effort from a just-announced band comprised of two members who have had an impressive number of projects featured on this site before: Casey Weissbuch (pictured above) and Joseph Frankl. Weissbuch’s spent time in a deeply impressive array of acts that include Mitski, Diarrhea Planet, Colleen Green, and a large handful of others (in addition to spearheading Infinity Cat’s cassette series), while Frankl’s made his name as a member of The Frankl Project and as a solo artist.
Weissbuch’s also been making some formidable moves as a solo act under the moniker Slanted. He takes the lead here and in a lot of ways, Gumbus feels like an extension of that project. Unsurprisingly– given the two members collective skill sets, aesthetic choices, and pedigrees– Crimbus Rock, their debut, is an exhilarating jolt of adrenaline. Utilizing a palette of influences that skews heavily towards the alternative movement of the ’90s, the duo digs deep into effortlessly melodic basement pop songs. Over the course of five songs (which never extend beyond the 2:20 mark), Gumbus recall everyone from Blue Album-era Weezer to Ovens.
While none of the songs are a marked deviation from any of their counterparts on the collection, each contains enough of an identity to avoid repetition and to deepen Crimbus Rock‘s claim to being a coherent whole. It’s a remarkable collection that feels like a logical step forward for both Weissbuch and Frankl, demonstrating their astounding grip on composition and flying by while packing enough punch to ensure it’s not quickly forgotten (a trait that makes it a perfect companion to the just-released Downies EP, featured below). This isn’t a huge release but it is micro-punk at its finest and it comes from two artists who deserve even more attention than they’ve already received. Don’t make the mistake of letting this one fade away unnoticed.
Listen to Crimbus Rock below and download the EP over at Gumbus’ bandcamp. Underneath the player, explore some other recent collections worth hearing.
I don’t know how this site has gone 650 posts without ever giving a headline slot to Eskimeaux, whose phenomenal 2015 effort– the coyly titled O.K.— has been in near-constant rotation over the course of the past few months. Gabrielle Smith’s Epoch project has appeared on this site a handful of times and even led off the recently published fall mix. Sooner or later something was bound to crack the feature-less streak and today it arrived in the form of a casually brilliant music video. While the medium did have a fairly strong week, it was the clip for “Broken Necks” that wound up here for reasons that skewed both objective and subjective.
Objectively, it’s a work of technical brilliance from House of Nod, who continue to impress while operating on an exceptionally high tier. Crisp editing (the stop motion is particularly enjoyable), gorgeous visuals, measured pacing, & committed performances all heighten an intentionally loose narrative that capitalizes on the song’s curious exuberance while still carving out space for its inherent bleakness (something that’s punctuated by Smith’s surprisingly capable deadpan moments). Accentuating that whimsicality are the several mini-sequences that play out like gifs, a move that could have proven too twee had it not been effectively balanced out by some astoundingly graceful long shots.
On the subjective side of things, this is a video that illustrates several of the things I love about the place I’ve come to call home for a little over a season. As run-down as it can seem, New York City (and especially Brooklyn) readily facilitates art. It’s evident in everything from the structural layout of the buildings to the graffiti that adorns their walls. For the lack of a better term, there is a strange sort of magic that the area carries, something that’s been heightened by its residents. A lot of the locations that were used in this video have come to have very significant meaning to me and I consider myself fortunate to know a handful of the people involved in the project on both sides of the lens. In that sense, not only does it succeed on its basic functions but it also operates as a living document of a specific place in time.
With all of the reasons listed above infused into one 207-second presentation, “Broken Necks” can’t help but feel (almost excessively) vibrant. It’s the perfect companion piece for O.K.‘s dueling emotional modes and a strong showcase for both Eskimeaux and House of Nod. By virtue of being so thrillingly alive and refreshingly original, “Broken Necks” surpasses merely being notable and draws closer to being unforgettable. A charming and remarkably endearing showcase of wit, composition, and genuine talent, it deserves as many views as possible.
Watch “Broken Necks” below and pick up a copy of O.K. from site favorites Double Double Whammy here. Beneath the music video watch a live performance of the song. Underneath both clips, explore a list of other great music videos to find release this week.
Heartbreaking Bravery 