Heartbreaking Bravery

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Tag: Sunbather

2015: A Year’s Worth of Memories (David Glickman)

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Photograph by Tom Pavlich

Over the past few years, David Glickman’s been one of the writers whose career I’ve greatly enjoyed watching become gradually more impressive. From running his own small blog to joining the staff of The Daily Texan to earning bylines for places like MRR, Impose, and Pitchfork, it’s been heartening to see people recognize his talent and grant him the opportunities he deserves. An incredibly supportive voice in the DIY punk community and a versatile writer, it’s a privilege to once again be featuring one of his pieces in A Year’s Worth of Memories. Here, he takes a look back at being moved by a headlining performance from Deafheaven. Read it below and remember that effort can yield staggering rewards.

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When you decided to make music the defining quality of your life, it can be hard to pull out a singular moment as the one that defined a year. They stack and build on each other, coalescing into something larger.

Do I talk about getting to see Kraftwerk put on a two and half hour 3-D spectacle that ranks as one of the best I’ve ever seen? About dancing front row at the PC Music showcase during SXSW with my friends Adam and Sasha, battling heat and exhaustion for five hours? Flying to New York City on a whim and getting to Perfect Pussy play for the first time in a year and half, getting to re-experience the euphoria their performances incur? Or something like letting six Swedish strangers stay in your tiny, one bedroom apartment for four days, discovering just how wonderful they are, and getting to seem them blow everyone away each time they performed?

But I think the moment that hovers in my brain was finally getting to see Deafheaven perform.

Technically I had gotten to seem them already, but a 3:30pm festival slot in nothing compared to seeming them play in the middle of the night, for as long as they like. It was a free event, guaranteeing a big crowd at the Mohawk that November night. The moment they began the crowd charged forward to the stage. They didn’t operate like a regular mosh pit; everyone smashing against each other to try to grasp onto singer George Clarke in some capacity. They were drawn to him like he was a metal Morrissey, twirling and twisting between his screams about losing his connection to life.

It was one of the most painful concert experiences of my life. The band played on and on, through all of New Bermuda, while legs were trampled and people leapt off stage over and over again into a crowd that was never paying attention at the right time. I recall falling, and ten over people falling down with me, we were all so close together. Yet at the same time it was an amazing show. The band sounded amazing; hearing the solos from “Brought to the Water” and “Gifts For the Earth” made something inside you swell. Clarke as frontman, as a performer, was memorizing; strutting and dancing and never stopping, knowing exactly how to bring the crowd to him and when exactly to pull back.

As the set proceeded he reached out to the crowd more and more, and I got closer to the stage.

The band began playing “Sunbather” during their encore, and I remember hitting this point of exhaustion. I gave up, and decided to let the mass of people around me just take me. I fell backwards, yet didn’t fall due to some bodies behind me. Clarke is hanging over the crowd screaming his vocals, and the adoring masses are trying to reach for him, everyone canceling out each other’s attempts. And so as I have stood there with bent knees trying not fall, I look directly up I see Clarke’s face surrounded by black, directly above me, just singing with more passion than I ever thought possible from one person. Few concert experiences will ever be able to live up to that moment.

The funny thing is I got to hang out with the band after the show, practically by accident, at goth club across the street. And they were some of the kindest, warmest people I have met. I went from seeing them perform one of the best live shows I’ve ever seen, to chatting with some goofballs about metal and dancing to Cocteau Twins songs. I got to hang out with some more wonderful people. And that might have been the best part of the evening.

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2015 was a strange year, as every year has been for me since I turned 12. I began to edge out of school and closer into the murky void that is one’s early twenties. I took on new friends, new stresses, new jobs. I began writing about music on a semi-professional level, which is still something I can’t believe has happened (to Liz Pelly and Sam Lefebvre, I am forever indebted to you for letting some wide eyed kid write about some music that he liked). More than anything, I can actually look at 2015 as a year I grew, in whatever small capacity. It’s surreal and slightly scary, and I don’t know how to process it, but I’ll take it nonetheless.

-David Glickman

Pitchfork Festival: Day 3 (Review)

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After the threat of a storm cleared up, Day 3 was given a gentle opening courtesy of Mutual Benefit. Jordan Lee’s project released one of last year’s best records in Love’s Crushing Diamond which was featured heavily throughout their set. More than a few moments warranted an unexpected chill down the spine, a very rare feat for a band so unassuming. It was genuinely difficult to leave but it proved a little more difficult to pass up the opportunity to catch the end of Speedy Ortiz’s set while securing a good spot for Perfect Pussy. Speedy Ortiz played with their usual amount of verve, injecting their songs with off-kilter humor and small surprises. “Bigger Party“, their recent Adult Swim-endorsed single, drew a strong reaction- as did fan favorites “American Horror” off of this year’s great Real Hair EP and “Indoor Soccer” off of their excellent early EP, Sports. When everything ended in a cataclysm of precisely-controlled noise, it seemed like Speedy Ortiz were exactly where they belonged.

Once more, Perfect Pussy‘s set felt too important to be given a brief summary so it will be given a separate, full review after the Day 3 recap. Rest assured: it was an extraordinary performance that felt like a defining moment for the band. Just like a few days prior, the band following Perfect Pussy were divisive metal act Deafheaven. While Deafheaven did feel slightly out of place in the broad daylight, it did provide the festival some unexpected balance- and it was mixed to near-perfection. Drawing what was easily one of the most diverse crowds of the festival, watching the passerby reactions to the band’s signature sound was nearly as intriguing as the band themselves. Having already seen them two nights ago in a more appropriate setting, it was off to catch the heavily-acclaimed Isaiah Rashad, who delivered his set with a comfortable confidence. While Rashad’s lyrics often hit the same beat, that repetition is easily distracted from by some innovative production work. Rashad himself was an engaging presence that kept the crowd involved with natural charisma, star magnetism, and some festival-appropriate choruses. It was a nice break from the high-level intensity of the previous three acts and wound up striking the perfect balance between relaxing and exciting, offering festivalgoers a chance to catch their breath while their attention remained invested in the performance.

Dum Dum Girls kept that balance exactly where it should have been with their peculiar brand of easygoing, subtly psych-glam-inflected, dream-pop. Everyone seemed to be in a sedated trance only a few songs in, eyes fixated to the stage, where the the band was running through a set emphasizing their most recent material (most notably this year’s enchanting Too True). They’ll be back in the Midwest before too long and, as evidenced by just a handful of songs, are definitely worth seeing (catch them at the High Noon Saloon on October 23). After a brief reprieve, it was time to catch a few songs from ScHoolboy Q, a figurehead of the increasingly influential Black Hippy crew. Q’s Habits & Contradictions was one of hip-hop’s defining records just a few years ago and it’s power- and Q’s stature- have only grown since. He lived up to every expectation and delivered a set just as lively as both Pusha T and Danny Brown’s attention-demanding performances from the previous day.  It was another strong example of the festival’s genre sensibility for the category and it was nothing short of thrilling to see Q take full advantage of his slot.

What followed ScHoolboy Q was an impromptu-heavy stunner of a set from Canadian duo Majical Cloudz. Devon Walsh and Matthew Otto are responsible for Impersonator, a haunting and minimal triumph of a record that stands as one of the best releases of the decade so far. It’s a record whose success no one could have predicted the extent of- just as no one could have predicted that less than two songs into their set, Otto’s keyboard (responsible for the bulk of the band’s music) would die completely. After frantic, futile attempts were made at a fix, the band embraced the dire conditions and weathered them with no shortage of bravery. Their first post-instrument-death piece was an a cappella rendition of “Bugs Don’t Buzz“, an immediately arresting performance that set the tone for what was to come. From that point forward, Walsh would graciously extend the microphone to anyone that wanted to sing one of their songs, beatbox, or even tell a joke- all while making sure the performance was kept relatively reigned in. More vocal-only renditions of songs from Impersonator were given- and loops were used whenever possible- and, for the grand finale, they took the now-useless keyboard and smashed it to smithereens in a moment of pure catharsis. It was genuinely unforgettable and wound up being a perfect transition to the next band on the schedule.

The recently reunited (and massively influential) Slowdive thankfully encountered no technical difficulties and sounded as perfect as they ever have, cranking their amps up to their breaking points and calmly making their way through a set of several now-legendary songs. Appropriately, their audience was in an entranced awe thanks to the still-spellbinding music emanating from the stage, as affecting now as it was two decades ago. This performance was one of the band’s only US dates and they made every moment of it count. After Slowdive wrapped up, there was just enough time for a brief break before Grimes took over and played to an absolutely packed crowd. Visions is now over two and a half years in the past but it’s proved formidable enough to keep serious attention focused on Clair Boucher, the artist behind the project. Grimes’ only release since then was last month’s “Go“, which earned a large amount of attention and acclaim. From the crowd’s reaction to Grimes’ set (which often felt more appropriate for a pop star than an emerging electronic artist, right down to the fan allowing Boucher’s hair to blow in the wind) it was abundantly clear that the public opinion of her has grown drastically since the release of Visions. “Oblivion” had a lot of people screaming and the audience seemed more than a little reluctant to see her leave but there was still one performer to go: Kendrick Lamar.

At this point, Kendrick is one of the few people in music who don’t need an introduction- and that showed in his set. Mostly pulling from the already-considered-stone-cold-classic good kid, m.A.A.d city he delivered one of the festivals most confident sets, while managing to keep it from tipping over into easy braggadocio, proving to be more than worthy of the festival’s ultimate headlining slot. His audience was huge and rapturous; it seemed like half of the Day 3 attendees were there solely to see the man himself. He didn’t disappoint those expectations- or even come close. Everyone who could drink was drinking, everyone who could dance was dancing, and no one was walking away disappointed. Songs like “Swimming Pools (Drank)” elicited mass crowd shout-a-longs and Lamar used his time as well as he possibly could. He’s clearly one of the biggest names in music (this is thanks in part to the fact he’s now earned a bottomless well of guest verses for just about everyone) and has no intentions of going anywhere but up. There were very few choices that would have felt more appropriate to bring everything home. It was the best-case-scenario closing to a festival that continues to get more impressive- and if that keeps up, it won’t be worth missing by the time it rolls around next year.

Deafheaven at Bottom Lounge – 7/18/14 (Review, Photos)

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Last weekend Chicago’s Union Park hosted one of the Midwest’s stacked festivals of the year and various venues around the area hosted official after party shows. By weekend’s end, around 20 sets were taken in between the official showcases and one of the day 1 after shows. The latter of which featured the first sets I was able to see throughout the weekend (shortly after arriving at The Bottom Lounge- who were putting on the after show, Perfect Pussy’s Meredith Graves stole me off for drinks at the festival grounds and we were able to hear Beck float through an impressive-sounding set in the background). After running back to the Bottom Lounge there was a short amount of time and the night’s first act, Pink Frost, had their set off and running. The Chicago-based quartet have been a fixture of the local scene for years and now, with the release of Traitors becoming increasingly imminent (it’s due out in September), they’re operating at a higher level than ever. Mixing shoegaze, psych, and punk elements into something impressive and towering on record, they’re even more formidable as a live act. All of the years they’ve spent playing together has resulted in an extraordinarily tight dynamic where each tiny detail is woven into an arresting sonic tapestry full of complementary threads. Their allotted time may have been understandably brief but it wound up feeling like one of the more complete sets of the year.

Perfect Pussy were next to take the stage and, despite sounding near-perfect in the soundcheck, wound up running into some apparent mixing problems. Not that it mattered, though. The band’s made a habit out of turning even the worst situations into something unforgettable. So, while Shaun Sutkus’ synths were pushed so far up that they were overwhelming just about everything else, the band played with their trademark fervor. That passion for performing is one of the biggest reasons this band’s celebrated so frequently here and, to her credit, Graves gave the absolutely packed crowd her all, even while being more inaudible than usual- to the point of leaving some of her blood on the floor (and earning several scratches on her hands). All thing considered, it stood as another display of breathtaking fierceness from a band that refuses to quit, no matter the circumstance.

Deafheaven were the headliners for the evening and their set leaned heavily on the monumental Sunbather, one of the only records to draw as much criticism from genre elitists as Perfect Pussy’s Say Yes to Love, making comfortable bedfellows out of an otherwise curiously unusual pairing. They didn’t waste their time- or position- as headliners, they filled their set with as much material as possible. At least one new song was played that seemed to advance the transition Sunbather represented for them. Vocalist George Clarke, clad in all black, commanded attention with ease, frequently going in and out of the crowd- occasionally crowdsurfing in a corpse-like position (and it’s worth noting that every move felt organic rather than rehearsed). “Dream House” was one of several assured high points by virtue of being a moment that featured atmospheric crescendos hitting a note near the euphoric. By the time they were loading their equipment off-stage, they’d given the audience just about everything they could, bringing the first night in Chicago to a successful close.

Photographs of the evening can be seen below.

Watch This: Vol. 14

Once again, apologies are in order. Live content was suspended as there was, unfortunately, no possible way to get anything up since the last posting. Regular content resumes with this round of catching-up. Sunday will see the return of the regularly-scheduled Watch This programming. Now that everything’s been brought up to speed, this 14th installment of the series features several of the program’s most trusted resources (KEXP, Jam in the Van, etc) and spans quite a few genres. Read, watch, and listen to everything below.

1. Capsula (KEXP Session)

This week’s kicking off with something a little unorthodox- an Argentinian band based in Spain that primarily plays covers. The distinction? They’re some seriously fucking great covers. This isn’t the stereotypical classic-rock-by-the-numbers cash-grab, there are moments of serious passion and inventiveness here. All of these songs are reworked in sly ways that play to the band’s frantic energy. Bonus points for the best “Moonage Daydream” cover since The White Stripes’ version was being passed around as a live bootleg.

2. Tara Fox – Morning Light (Jam in the Van)

Oh, Jam in the Van, will you ever tire of bands that wear hats when they play? As long as they’re as winsome as Tara Fox, it honestly won’t matter (it doesn’t really matter now, it’s just a strange recurring trend). Tara Fox, for their part, conjure up Americana that’s infused with both Burger-friendly surf aesthetics and a few hints of 60’s pop tendencies. It all works impossibly well in the van setting and feels perfect for the open road.

3. Cate Le Bon (NPR Tiny Desk Session)

NPR once again mines a great singer/songwriter record for a stunning session. While Cate Le Bon’s 2012 triumph Mug Museum may not have been released as recently as Burn Your Fire For No Witness, the two do share some similar qualities. They’re also the records that are responsible for 2013’s two best Tiny Desk concerts to date. Le Bon reveals herself to be not only a capable performer but a tantalizing one.

4. Deafheaven – Sunbather (Live at 285 Kent)

Very few bands managed to anger as many people as Deafheaven did last year. Their crime? Making an outstanding record that had serious crossover potential. Black metal elitists were up in arms, shoegaze enthusiasts were full of cynical trepidation, and no one wanted to claim them as part of their genre. Only Perfect Pussy have matched their ratio of critical acclaim to critical vitriol since the release of Sunbather.  While it can still be difficult to fully embrace the style of vocals Deafheaven rely on, their actual music is undeniable and their live performances have been well-documented as being one of the more captivating prospects out there. Pitchfork’s ongoing series of the RIP 285 Kent videos has likely come to a conclusion with this absolutely immense performance of Sunbather‘s title track. Major credit is also due to the audio engineer on this one as it sounds absolutely phenomenal. A very fulfilling 10 and a half minutes.

5. Four Eyes – SOS (Live)

Four Eyes are an incredibly hard band to find information on beyond basic facts. Whether this band still exist is anyone who’s not in the know’s best guess. They don’t appear to have any official page of any sort and they only have two 7″ records to their name. Both Four Eyes and Towards the End of Cosmic Loneliness are fucking incredible records full of riff-heavy basement punk. There are shades of early 90’s SST all over both of them and “SOS” is among the group’s very best. Here’s hoping that the band hasn’t hung it up. This is incredible music that deserves to be heard.