The Rich Girls Are Weeping

2008-07-31T02:34:00.006-04:00

We've totally relocated & switched to the Tumblr interface: http://www.therichgirlsareweeping.com (once the name server does its switcheroo -- if the link doesn't take you there, try this one).

Thx for stopping by -- enjoy the archive (no, we can't repost old files!); hope you like the new version of The Rich Girls are Weeping. Now with more ideas & way fewer mp3s.

xx
cindy & pinkie

2008-07-01T01:09:00.008-04:00

And so you say to us, Cindy, Pinkie -- what is pleasing to you tonight?

And we reply: Michelle Williams' showy, glowy club anthem "Break the Dawn" -- girl, may we please borrow your dancers? Pretty please?

[And, summer jam watchers -- this is being pushed with roughly the same strategy as "Umbrella" ... hit in the clubs with a bolted-on rap version (with Flo Rida instead of Jay-Z, natch) for the Hot 100 chart position.]

We hope you are doing well so far this summer; I got a sassy vintage banana seat bicycle & Pinkie found some classy art deco jewelery @ the Brooklyn Flea over the weekend, which was fun, despite the pouring rain.

Oh, and are happy to report two things: Le Poisson Rouge is a lovely, if slightly stiff venue and Andrew WK is playing bass for Baby Dee, and he's lookin' fiiiiine (her whole band is pretty fabbo, actually). It was a lovely, intimate show, even if the bar didn't have Campari and the seat covers were a little ... rough. Looking forward to seeing more shows there in the future -- especially if they continue to use Brown Paper Tickets. Seriously. Surely I'm not the only one peeved that Ticketmaster is borderline gouge-y with the fees for Bowery Presents shows.

2008-06-18T23:43:00.011-04:00

(photo courtesy of the airborne toxic event mi espacio)

Item No. 1: Okkervil River are playing Lollapalooza? How did I miss that?

Item No. 2: It was grand to finally catch Airborne Toxic Event -- you may remember that we wrote about them in October 2006 (!!!) -- at Piano's the other night. Those kids sure put on a hell of a show -- tight, sharp and fun. Look for a new album later this year -- the new songs blow the band's first efforts out of the water (not that those were terrible, mind you -- see below for the video for the chipper shaft track "Does This Mean You're Moving On?") -- especially the epic "Sometime Around Midnight." (Hear it on their MySpace page.) Someone get these guys on a tour with The National, stat.

Item No. 3: You're coming to see Shearwater with Evangelicals and Frog Eyes at the Music Hall of Williamsburg tonight (6/19), right? And you bought Rook when it came out a few weeks back? Ok, good. Evangelicals put on one of the best shows around, btw -- and remember when Frog Eyes played shows with neckties about their heads? (OMG, that was eons ago!)

Item No. 4: Our dear Bellmer Dolls play their last show of the summer @ Lit on June 28 with Foreign Islands and Chinese Stars. (Wait, how can that be the last show of the summer when it's actually the first show of the summer?) Well, that means we won't have a reason to enthuse about them for a few months at least, so you'd best come out and brave the skeeviness of Lit. Worth it! Mostly!

Item No. 5: Baby Dee plays the lovely new West Village venue Le Poission Rouge June 25. If you don't go to any other show we recommend, please go to this one. I guarantee you won't regret it...

Item No. 6: Au revoir to Florent, the official favorite Manhattan eatery of The Rich Girls are Weeping, which closes on June 29 after 23 years in business in the Meatpacking District. Thanks especially to Darinka Chase, Vestal "Like a Virgin" McIntyre (a/k/a The OTHER Pinkie), Coffy, Mrs. Pierce and all the charming busboys whose names we never caught. Oh! And those two drunk Frenchmen we met outside No. 69 Gansevoort Street late one night who implored us to join them for postprandial dancing the Cock! And of course, Florent Morellet himself! We'll miss you all something terrible.

We regret nothing. Ever.

2008-06-05T00:20:00.009-04:00

(photo credit: WOMAN myspace)

I've become so jaded these days about going to shows. If a band doesn't, well, destroy me with their live set, I'm just so not interested. And that doesn't mean that the band in question has to consist of a bunch of crabby, hollerin' loud-ass dudes, mind you. But it uh, kind of helps.

Which brings me to WOMAN. (Yes, that's all caps. Perhaps you should imagine me yelling every time you read their name in this post. It's really too bad I can't record a little mp3 of that, actually.)

Anyway, we'd been trying to catch a WOMAN set for like, 6 months. (No, really!) We kept missing them for no particular reason, much like how, not surprisingly, we're missing M83 tonight -- I've been trying to see him for like, what, 5 years? It was the usual round of excuses: We were either late getting to venues, or broke (we aren't actually rich, you know!), or out of town, or just plain old and tired.

And honestly, I'm the kind of person who avoids going out on Fridays before holiday weekends, but the promise of Portland's Magick Daggers, our dear Bellmer Dolls and the elusive WOMAN
was too much to pass up. Besides, it was at Union Pool, which we can get to via the bus. (BTW, we were recently informed that we are "totally gangsta" for taking the bus in fancy dresses and furs and stupid shoes. Um, damn, it feels good to be a gansgta?)

But I digress.

Now, I wish I could say that I was totally pleased with the Magick Daggers' set -- the first half was absolutely brilliant, Jessy Montaigne (x-Subtonix) really, really kills on bass and Maximilian Avila (x-Get Hustle, Antioch Arrow) is equally wicked on drums. The problem is, Montaigne's vocals are just kind of okay, and it's really only interesting when she's caterwauling and wailing on her bass in a way that lonely metalhead boys in suburban basements only dream of ever pulling off (and would uh, probably cream their jeans to see this fierce dervish of a woman actually doing so). Less interesting, though, is when Montaigne tries to bring the dark cabaret; without that deliciously phallic bass in her hands, she is lost onstage, and resorts to the kind of girly vamping that's uncomfortable-making and rather dull to watch. The fierce momentum that carried the first half of the set just kind of fizzled from a bang to a whimper.

Thank goodness, then, for WOMAN. The best recommendation I can give: I turned to Pinkie at some point during the set, with an insane grin plastered on my face and hollered "WHY DOESN'T EVERYONE LOVE THIS!?!?" "Because they're stupid and have no souls," she astutely replied.

We have a tendency, it's true, to kind of crush out on loud, squally swampy blues bands with tight rhythm sections (check!) and dudes who holler (they have two, even!) -- I'm sure this is surprising to no one at this point. But the thing about WOMAN is that ... well, for all the dark and dangerous poses, they're just balls out wicked and fun. (Though, I guess that part when Skeleton Boy threw his bass, with the pickguard covered in blood, across the stage at the end of the set was kind of dangerous...) Anyway, frankly, after the spring I've had, I needed a good time, and WOMAN delivered.

Oh, okay -- look, sometimes a little embedded video is the best way to show you what I'm talking about -- this is from a show @ Cake Shop at the tail end of last year, via punkcast.com.

The less we say about the plagued-with-technical-difficulties set from the Bellmers, the better. They did, indeed, actually finish the set -- but it was kind of like that time you sort of didn't memorize that recitation for 9th grade English class and you spent all of gym cramming in the outfield, but everything fell apart during lunch, and by the time it was your turn to go in 5th period, you just kind of collapsed -- but you still managed to pull it off anyway. Or maybe that was just me.

That being said, we have no doubt that things will be better this Friday when the Bellmers bring together the best of the Charleston shows -- Preacher and the Knife and Cosmicide (Josh & Brandon of Secret Machines) [ed. from Pinkie - we never said we could spell] -- for the Neighbor of the Beast (6/6/8 -- get it?) show at the CSV Theater, 107 Suffolk (yeah, the building that looks like ... a school). I have no idea what I'm going to wear, as the weather reports promise nasty, humid heat -- but hey, our trainee Ms. Churchill, who's recently back from the UK and is doing well on her Eno regimen (she's stuck on Warm Jets right now), will be joining us -- always a good thing.

Sunday we'll be at the dreadful MHOW where FrictionNYC presents These New Puritans (who we discussed recently on the Tumblr), School of Seven Bells (which is, oddly enough, the new project from Benjamin Curtis, formerly of Secret Machines, and the Dehaza twins, formerly of On! Air! Library!) and Effi Briest (yay!) -- looking forward to that, even if not too thrilled about the venue, or the fact that it's on a Sunday night. But I guess we'll live.

2008-06-04T00:13:00.009-04:00

(photo: jean lannen)

Oh, hello! I owe a review of the Bellmer Dolls/WOMAN/Magick Daggers show a few weeks back (OMG, do I ever have to go to Union Pool on a Friday night on a holiday weekend again? Please promise me I don't.) -- and a reminder of a few things that are coming up in the next week or so. I promise, I'll post that tomorrow. I swear.

In the meantime, we're a bunch of crabby grumpuses over here at Castle Rich Girls tonight, which meant that there was only one thing to do -- pop in disc two of the super-obsessively wonderful Roxy Music 2-dvd set The Thrill Of It All: A Visual History 1972 - 1982. We'd watched the first disc about a month or so ago, but tonight we needed some broken hearted Bryan Ferry to make us feel better. Or something.

Make no mistake about it, I'm pretty sure that Roxy Music is my favorite band of all time, and the 1978-1980 years are my absolute favorite, if mostly for Andy MacKay's amazing mullet and special pointy sideburns. And possibly all the leather suiting. And sharkskin. And the sweater with the saxophone on it.

Anyway, smack in the middle of the disc is the band's cover of John Lennon's "Jealous Guy." I turned to Pinkie and declared, "I believe this is one of the best songs ever written." Which is odd to say, really, because it's actually quite chilling when you stop and think about it -- a man's jealousy can be a terrifying thing sometimes. But Lennon's unapologetic apology is just so ... painfully real, which is why I imagine so many dudes have subsequently covered it (nearly 100, according to Wikipedia). I love the original, I love Roxy's version, I love Donny Hathaway's version. And I'd completely forgotten about the Deftones cover -- thx, Wikipedia!

It's also odd to think about the fact that when Roxy covered the song after Lennon's murder, they were accused of cashing on tragedy -- when in reality, it fits in quite well with the band's other songs at the time. Ferry was still clearly smarting from his split from Jerry Hall -- something he didn't artistically bury until the video for "Avalon," really. (Which I've also included for your viewing pleasure because it's so very lovely.)

John Lennon -- Jealous Guy

Donny Hathaway -- Jealous Guy

Roxy Music -- Jealous Guy

Roxy Music -- Avalon

See, now we're in a better mood, yay! Hope you are, too.

2008-05-19T01:08:00.006-04:00

Hello all. We're not dead in a ditch, promise. We were out of town for over a week, got new hairdos (I am so blonde now, no longer everyone's favorite dyed-black grumpus. I'm still getting used to it, thx.), and then had to recover from all that travel. We're cool. Just mad busy! Oh, and our server is still in limbo, so ... hope you like words and embedded videos! I'm only partially kidding, we're working on getting that resolved ASAP.

But hey! If you need yr daily fix of Rich Girls blather, we post on our Tumblr ... a lot. (Add the RSS feed to your reader?)

Furthermore, hello to anyone directed from the Boston Metro -- thanks for the link, y'all.

So, things that we'll hit on soon:

Seeing The Mountain Goats' John Darnielle play a solo show @ Brooklyn's lovely Masonic Lodge -- it was pretty rad. And some some drunk guy complimented me on my "glorious stockings" -- they were pretty badass, actually.
Seeing John Darnielle read from his new 33 1/3 title -- Black Sabbath's Master of Reality -- at the Housing Works cafe/bookstore, the hidden gem of Soho (no really!), where we found some amazing books, including one of easy piano/guitar versions of fave New Wave joints, published in 1978 -- which means I can now play "Psycho Killer" or "Love Comes in Spurts" on the autoharp, should I so chose.
Our shopping spree @ Austin's End of an Ear -- look for us in their print ads soon! Pinkie plans to tell you all about the awesome Crass record she found there. I, however, will probably only be reminding you how awesome ... The Style Council were. Or subjecting you to my rilly pretentious David J 12" that isn't even mentioned in his Wikipedia article!
The Ting Tings record -- it's the worst thing EVER! The Madonna record -- it's possibly the best thing in recent memory!
So where, exactly, are the summer jamz? We're with Sasha Frere-Jones on this one -- it's a little disturbing. I blame the excess of club tracks (not a bad thing, mind you...) and skyrocketing gas prices, which will make it hard to drive around blaring The Summer Jam(s) for all and sundry to hear.

In other news -- we'll be out an about this week -- it's my BIRTHDAY.

Blacklist and The Mary Onettes play Union Hall on 5/19
Bellmer Dolls, WOMAN, and Magick Daggers will appear @ Union Pool on 5/23
The Muggabears play the Knitting Factory Tap Bar on 5/25

And, though we've become devoted to quite a few things lately, nothing has moved us quite so profoundly as ... Fall Out Boy's cover of "Beat It." Pinkie says, "If you think Fall Out Boy suck -- or that you're too cool for them ... you clearly have no soul."

2008-05-07T22:21:00.007-04:00

(photo courtesy of bumpershine)

It is distinctly possible that this post will be the end of me. And, you may not want to read this review, either, come to think of it. (See a few weeks back for the first of my unreadable reviews...)

I was actually kind of hoping it would write itself. These things sometimes do -- and when the Bellmer Dolls closed out their set on Saturday night with a cover of Harry Nilsson's "Jump Into the Fire" with assistance from a whole slew of people including members of The Choke, Preacher and the Knife and Golden Triangle, I thought to myself, "Oh, it would be brilliant if Shearwater would play their cover of Brian Eno's 'Baby's On Fire.' This fucking review will write itself."

Sadly, Shearwater did not play "Baby's On Fire." And this review, in hindsight, most definitely did not write itself.

But that's okay, actually.

I have another way to open it. Let's start over?

There's an old, wizened black man who sings soul music in the Columbus Circle subway station. If New York City is heart of the world, then he sits squarely in its broken core, perched atop an old amp that cranks out backing music that sounds like it's coming through all the way from 1964. I generally kind of hate waiting for a train there; I despise being uptown, and it always seems like it takes longer for a train to arrive there than in any other station -- I don't know why, but it does. Perhaps it's due to the fact that, I kid you not, the base of Central Park is some kind of Bermuda Triangle of train traffic. It's where multiple lines split and mutate and take off to Queens or the hinterlands uptown. It's where class and race divide more distinctly than they do at other subway junctions in town; trains that creak through Brooklyn double back and circle around to Queens after gliding through a handful of Manhattan stops; trains that germinate in the bowels of the financial district also head that way; in the meantime, the A train just keeps plowing up the west side, hitting every formerly undesirable (yet now "up and coming") neighborhood in Brooklyn and Manhattan.

Oh, please don't let me get distracted talking about the subway. I can go on and on -- as you can see.

The man who sings soul music in the broken heart of the world was just the salve I needed Monday night, as I stood in the train station and cried, my heart kind of broken too, after seeing Michael Gira and Shearwater at the Florence Gould Hall. I'd been kind of inconsolable through the last five songs or so, and managed to make little pleasantries with people after, but I was crying all over again during the walk past the Plaza Hotel all the way to Columbus Circle, and was now letting tears roll down my cheeks, not really caring if the opera patrons and tourists and students and people just trying to get home after staying too late at work saw me -- anyway, it was more likely that, like me, they were all drawn in by the busker's luminescent and crumbling voice.

Pinkie gave me a few bucks (I hardly ever carry cash!) to tip the man who sings soul music in the broken heart of the world -- it seemed almost perfunctory, but was certainly not given out of mere obligation. He really was amazing; I hope you'll have a chance to hear him sometime -- try a weeknight at Columbus Circle, but I make no guarantees.

It was actually the perfect ending to the day, to the evening -- even if I was a terrifying emotional wreck -- but I should start at the beginning.

I know I've ranted about my job here and there recently, but really, you know there's nothing like trying to get things tied up when you're about to head out on vacation. I was literally fixing the table of contents on the hugest book I've edited to date when I should have been headed out the door to get uptown in time. So then I was a little frazzled and running late and kept Pinkie waiting in the lobby of my building, which, naturally, also made me feel bad; I changed into my heels before I realized we were walking a few avenue blocks, which made me cranky. To top it all off, I was a bit out of sorts in general, convinced I'd forgotten to tell someone somewhere to take care of something while I was out of the office. (I'm not a control freak, really. I swear!)

By the time we made it to the hall, I was a bit rough around the edges, but otherwise fine. The interminable wait for the N train had calmed me down somewhat, though we did get a bit disoriented somewhere in the vicinity of Central Park South, near the carriage horses -- I hate going uptown!

So, of course, the first person I saw as we went in was former member of Shearwater and Okkervil River frontman Will Sheff; we used to see each other all the time in Austin, naturally -- and even though he's in NYC all the time now, it seems, we totally never cross paths. So it goes. But, of course, he had to see me in my frazzled state, which was vaguely embarrassing. There were lots more familiar faces inside, though, and even if seeing Shearwater in NYC will never be like the nights in the front room at Emo's with Joanna and Summer Anne and Dylan and Phil and Dorothy, that eight-piece string section kind of totally made up for it.

Then again, this isn't the same Shearwater, either, the string section aside. We've all grown up and moved into different directions, and the band I believed from the very beginning is poised, with Rook, to further cement a reputation as a culty tour-de-force that will achieve gobs of critical acclaim, but never be wildly popular.

Which is a shame, really. But something tells me that the wide world isn't exactly ready for frontman Jonathan Meiburg's gorgeous falsetto vocals, stunning stage presence and byzantine story-songs -- not to mention the one-two punch of Thor Harris on any number of creepily beautiful percussive instruments and Kim Burke on bass, who, as ever, placidly, wickedly and beautifully keeps the whole performance on track.

But enough of my useless prattle -- you want to know about the actual show.

I'd never had the pleasure of seeing Michael Gira play a solo set before, and there's no way to describe how I felt during it all, except to say that he scooped out all the bullshit of my day -- of the past few months, even. I've recently been listening to the Angels of Light record Everything is Alright Here, Please Come Home a ton lately, and a massive dose of Gira's brand of the blues -- even if just for four songs -- was incredible to see and hear. He's the kind of performer who demands attention the moment he steps on stage, even when he hasn't yet sung a note. And he's aging handsomely -- his voice has mellowed to into an even bigger, booming instrument over the past several years. A song in his hands is something dredged up from the depths of the darkest corners of his, your, my soul and brought up into the light. The imperfections of his voice suddenly become the sharp edges of a perfectly cut diamond, almost too painfully beautiful to hear. An inopportune broken guitar string isn't a catastrophe -- far from it: Gira finished the song acappella without missing a beat, his voice both filling the room and crawling deep into my chest, pouring into the empty spaces I didn't even know were there to begin with. (Though, to be fair, perhaps the catastrophe was that the time spent switching out the broken string, however, robbed us of one more song.)

Gira, naturally, was quite possibly the best lead in for the latest incarnation of Shearwater -- we used to talk about how they transitioned from airy-fairy folksy to just plain evil over the course of a few years, which culminated in the incredible live shows that followed the release of Palo Santo. The band's a little less evil now, but no less intense. (I think this is most notably due to the absence of the taut and mercurial energy brought to the stage by former bassist/keyboard player/manic tambourine shaker Howard Draper. I didn't quite realize, though, how much I missed Howard until the second half of the set -- "Red Sea, Black Sea" really isn't quite the same without his demented turn on the tambourine over the chorus.)

But I'm getting ahead of myself here. The first half of the show was, as promised, Rook, played in its entirety with assistance from a string section, trumpets and harp. Though I'm currently quite enamored with the new album and think it is, quite clearly, the band's strongest and most challenging work to date, there were a few problems with this part of the set -- and there's a distinct possibility that I (and Pinkie) were the only ones bothered by these kind of nitpicky details. The sound mix left a little to be desired, though this could have been due to the problem of amplifying so many instruments on stage at once. The piano was too muffled while the drums were, at turns, too sharp and then completely inaudible. (I wanted to run down to the stage and throw the piano lid open; it seemed a shame to keep a grand closed in a hall that intimate ... perhaps when open it drowned out the strings?) This all wasn't terribly distracting once I got used to it, but compared to the mix, say, at the band's stunning set last summer as part of the city's River to River festival, the sound was pretty muddy and grim and, as Pinkie noted, a little too "adult contemporary" at times.

And, I'm not entirely sure that the projections, which relayed the story of the album's songs in some prettily-shot short films directed by Kahn and Selesnick (who also did the cover art for Rook) and starring multipercussionist/hammered dulcimer wrangler Thor as the archetypal last man, really worked for me. That is to say, I'm not sure that the music really needs this embellishment, and at times it was even a little distracting when I was trying to focus on the band's actual performance. If I didn't know better, I'd accuse them of precious pretentiousness, or even of using the projections as a crutch as they get used to the new lineup and new songs on tour, but I don't really feel that's the case -- and I even think that under better circumstances, all the parts of the whole may work well together. And, truth be told, we're very much looking forward to seeing Shearwater at a proper rock venue in June (not that seats aren't great, mind you, but they make the rocking out a little difficult) after they've had time to work out the new material on the road over the next month or so.

The second half of the show, on the other hand, more than made up for the slight weaknesses in the first bit; at the risk of slipping into yet another moment of over-sharing, I felt like revisiting Palo Santo and assorted b-sides (especially some of the older ones that the band played for years before recording them -- like my long-time favorite, the sinister and lovely "Mountain Laurel") was just what I needed after that ultra-fantastic Bellmer Dolls set a few weeks back that totally threw me for a loop and the deep-down blues that opened this show. I was perfectly primed for an emotional purge of the highest degree, and thus spent the last five songs or so completely in tears -- of fierece pride, for this band, who I love so much and of pain, too -- for my dead past that still haunts me when I least expect it to.

A few weeks back, I mentioned my little private aerie that I lived in after leaving my fiancé, before I moved to Brooklyn -- it was always really, really perfectly cold there (the air conditioning was new, and really worked) and I had ice blue bedding and there was tons of natural light that filtered in through porthole windows 15 feet up, and it was kind of like living in a ship sailing to the Antarctic. There were many, many nights I would come home from work in the spring and summer of 2006 and just blast Palo Santo (a clandestine promo of the Misra version of the release, mind you -- a burned CDr with a hand-written tracklist), ensconced in my perfectly cold studio flat, freezing out the parts of my life that I wanted to forget; consigning them to the furthest, most compartmentalized places of my brain and heart as dusk fell, making everything purple and dim until it all went black. And I felt that chill again as Shearwater moved backward in time for about half an hour, hitting the high points of that album. I'd almost very nearly forgotten that it -- that they -- got me through that terrible summer and fall, when I was so miserable and disjointed (really -- go read the posts from that time -- they're kind of ... frightening) as I tried to recover from the awfulness that had been the past five (ten?) years of my life.

I had to practically flee the venue when it was all over for fear that I would start crying all over again on some unsuspecting acquaintance -- I wasn't nearly as successful at avoiding post-show conversations this time around as I was a few weeks back, but I didn't regret most of them, as I had a chance to catch up with a few people I miss seeing because, uh, they kinda don't go to shows in basements in Williamsburg. Ever.

Speaking of basements in Williamsburg, I'm actually kind of sad to report that the Bellmer Dolls' residency at the Charleston has come to an end (though, they've got shows planned for the end of May and early June already, so we'll survive until then, I suppose!) -- as predicted, it was pretty freakin' legendary. The Choke were actually much better than I expected -- or more accurately, they're much better live than the tracks up for offer on their MySpace would lead you to believe; unfortunately, the performance does start to wear thin after a handful of songs, but what they may lack in sophistication and nuance, they more than make up for with some of the biggest doses of enthusiasm than I've seen in quite some time.

The jury's still out on Golden Triangle, though. Were they fucking amazing? Really terrible? Somewhere in between? What can you even compare them to, really --- save maybe if Throwing Muses were on K Records instead of 4AD? (Something tells me that about 14 people will understand that reference ... ) How about if we say the following: when it works, it really works (the psycho girl-group action that prompted Pinkie to mention the cold, unison vocals of Lansing Dreiden project LD Section 1), and when it doesn't (the falling-apart improvisational messes that reminded me of what I hate most about "Brooklyn" bands), it kind of feels like you're being beat over the head with affected oddness. That being said, Golden Triangle is definitely a band we'll keep our eye on in the future. And, if we could dispense any advice here, it would be to practice more -- until those falling-apart moments are an intentional part of the performance, and not an unfortunate side affect of your relative inexperience. (Really, it's not cool to leave your audience waiting for five minutes between songs without some kind of explanation. We understand technical difficulties; it's the silence that comes off as amateur-ish.)

As for the Bellmer Dolls, how could they not please after all this time? We're glad to report that after three Saturdays of shows in a row and a week on the road with Secret Machines, they hadn't killed each other (always good ... ) and were tighter than ever. The new songs are really filling out nicely and we can only imagine they'll be really great recorded. Highlights of the evening included Peter donning a black sequined dress thing that was either a kurta or a caftan -- or maybe just formerly belonged to a really, really big lady -- for the first part of the set, and then an absolutely hideous J. Peterman ca. 1994 caftan for the delightfully unhinged encore of "Jump Into the Fire" -- the song with the hottest bassline and the most ridiculous drum solo and the best naked male pain hollerin' of all time. Which makes it wholly appropriate for cover treatment by our dear No. 1 crushes, even if they've sworn off ever playing it again. (The only thing better would be some Wolfgang Press, perhaps -- hint, hint!)

In summation, I would just like to ask: why is it that no one falls in love with bands anymore? It dawned on me as we rode the local late-night A train back to Brooklyn after seeing Shearwater that over the past few years, we -- the music consumers of the world -- have become grabby, drunk party girl sluts who want to make out with every guy in the room, and take no joy from it -- just a killer hangover once the party's over. And the more I hear hundreds of new bands that just leave me cold -- the more I want to remind everyone about the virtues of falling in love. Try it. Go see new band, let them seduce you. Go to every show, talk incessantly about them, tell everyone you know to buy their music, drag friends to shows, put them on mix cds. We are all the tastemakers now, don't squander this gift.

***

As a sidebar, I'm writing this on a plane back to Austin (not surprisingly, Matador's Gerard Cosloy is also on this flight!) and I'm listening to the XM radio (thanks, JetBlue!!), which is a dream for a musical omnivore like me. I've listened to a slew of my favorite top 40 hits, some big band standards, 50's do-wop, Interpol, a Lizst symphony during takeoff, Spiller's "Groovejet," Lil' Wayne's "Lollipop," Jonny Greenwood's score for There Will Be Blood -- and now some Vaughn Williams followed by Tchaikovsky and Chopin followed by some dance remixes! I think the dude sitting next to me, busily hacking away on a Powerpoint for a prototype of a fascinating-looking consumer electronics device of the future, must think I'm nuts, flipping between genres the way that I have for the past two hours -- especially when I was trying NOT to sing along with Flo Rida and Lupe Fiasco and Chris Brown and Gnarls Barkley and, god help me, the dreadful yet catchy Ting Tings. But the most notable thing I've heard so far is Miley Cyrus' "See You Again." And I've heard it THREE TIMES on three different stations. I admit, I was pretty much a mere spectator when it came to Ms. Cyrus before now -- I'd actually never heard her music and hadn't felt particularly compelled to seek it out, but now I totally understand what the big deal is -- she's a little girl with a grown-up woman's voice singing about teenage longing -- a trope that's infiltrated popular music since the advent of recording. (And possibly before? This might take more research ... ) Think of Judy Garland, Timi Yuro, April Stevens, etc -- she's on par with where they all were at fifteen, even if the songwriting is a little weak (then again, most of standards we cherish today aren't exactly the pinnacles of intellectual lyricism either ... ). And what's more, Ms. Cyrus has what Shirley Temple Black's mother called "sparkle," so how could she not be wildly popular -- especially heading into an economic depression as we are?

2008-04-30T23:42:00.006-04:00

(photo totally ganked from the preacher and the knife-space because we know how to use the mac version of prtscr)

Look, I know I don't write so much anymore about bands you haven't heard me yak on and on and on about -- which is why I'm going to devote this section of the post to fawning over (relative) young 'uns Preacher and the Knife, who, along with Effi Briest and Crystal Stilts, are the one of the only new bands we've heard in the past year who are worth ... well, fawning over. We really are trying to let new things gestate for a little bit before we write some disconnected text about how they sound like this, that or the other -- and try to keep everything in context.

I wish I could come up with some pithy catchphrase for these bands who totally bring it with a mix of bizzaro psychedelia and minimalist no wave action -- all reverb-drenched hollering and cowbells and thumpy drums. I guess I'll leave that to some other tastemaker.

The first thing you need to know about Preacher and the Knife is that they're incredible live. The second thing you need to know about Preacher and the Knife is that their ep The Beginning, available for free on their website (and recorded, perhaps not shocking to hear, by the Bellmer Dolls' omnipresent knob-twiddler and expert hollerer, Peter Mavrogeorgis) perfectly captures the energy, intensity and awesome fearsomeness of the live Preacher experience. Here's our fave track, if you're hesitant to check them out without a specific endorsement:

Preacher and the Knife -- Darkness Comes

For a band that's played a mere handful of shows, Preacher are spectacularly tight. Frontman Daniel Barcelowsky (scroll down at this link to see him lookin' dapper and sedate...) has a stage presence that's almost uncomfortably confrontational -- or perhaps, well, it is uncomfortably confrontational, if you're not up for having him come up and, well, holler in your face. Or if a band with a ridiculously wonderful rhythm section and absolutely no guitar won't work for you.

We have really only one request after being blown away by their much too-short set in the basement of The Charleston last Saturday night: darlings, next time -- please give us more cowbell. Maybe not quite as much as the following but ...

Liquid Liquid -- Bellhead

(Also, if you don't believe us about the awesomeness of the live set -- check out their appearance at P.S.1 last summer ... believe me, we'll be sure to tell you when they're playing another show because we'll totally be there.)

***

As for the rest of the show Saturday?

Seeing Fresh Kills is still like watching The Hold Steady do an impression of Joy Division as interpreted by The Dead Kennedys. (Ha!) They've really improved greatly since we saw them last. And, as much as it kind of kills me to say this, they have an interesting commercial appeal now that certainly needs to be exploited ASAP. Because when the kids who dress like members of Tokio Hotel start showing up at your shows, it's time to start thinking Hot Topic. And I mean this in the best possible way -- really!

In the meantime, troublesome PAs always seem to muck up the most ambitious sets; I'll try not to hold it against the Bellmers that I was mostly deaf in my left ear for two days.

And so, the last night of the (potentially legendary) Bellmer Dolls' residency at The Charleston wraps up this Saturday (May 3); added bonus, it's Peter's birthday. Bring cupcakes! Or whatever! The Choke and Golden Triangle also play. Remember, right across from the Bedford L stop. You can't miss it. Or us, really. We're the ladies who are dressed.

I'm going to stop here and apologize for the brevity of text this week; we're still having server issues, and if you see me this weekend, I'll probably tell you the story of how my (former) assistant quit. It's a wonderful story, really. I also finished editing the biggest book of my career. I think my brain may be entirely dead.

***

That being said, we will sign off with our new MTV Hits boyfriend, O'Neal McKnight, and his charming track "Check Your Coat" featuring Greg Nice. McKnight's music scored the Conde Nast "Fashion Rocks" special earlier this year; don't hold this against him as he's styled some of your favorite hip hop videos and can totally out-Michael Jackson Michael Jackson in the way we thought only, perhaps, that Romanthony could ... Get on this bandwagon now-ish. This is clearly a late spring hit that might have some momentum into the summer ... we love it! (Count the guest appearances in the video, and try not to hold the Back to the Future pastiche against him either.)

O'Neal McKnight feat. Greg Nice -- Check Your Coat

Daft Punk -- Too Long

2008-04-28T12:43:00.002-04:00

Hi -- we're having some technical difficulties stemming from a DMCA takedown notice that arrived early Monday morning (4/28). Pls. excuse the broken images & links. We're getting things cleared up as soon as possible.

2008-04-25T08:05:00.004-04:00

It just occured to me that our new header (hit refresh if you can't see it!), which was inspired by this image (thx Mr. Hill!), kind of looks like a creepy, gloopy version of the Idolator logo. Totally unintentional, I promise!

2008-04-23T01:42:00.001-04:00

I'm pretty sure that no one will want to read this review.

But before I start berating you, I should start at the beginning. This story is really about ... yarn.

Now, I know what you're thinking, I can hear you all the way over here. "Cindy Hotpoint has jumped the shark for reals this time. I mean, we tolerated her moving to NYC and no longer providing us with the best remixes in the known universe and her incessant rantings about The Mountain Goats, Shearwater and the Bellmer Dolls. But ... yarn?"

(It's funny you mention Shearwater, actually. Can we just tell you how amazing Rook is? I mean, really really amazing. We're listening to it right now. Pinkie just muttered something about "Mariachi Meiburg" -- eerie horns! -- and now there's some weird creepy percussion groans. But we'll tell you about that some other time...when we've had time to digest it properly. And, if you're nerdy for studio details, go check out the blog of recording engineer Matthew Barnhart, owner of Echo Lab, the Denton, TX studio where Shearwater also recorded Palo Santo; he's documented the entire recording process, much to my delight ... )

So, yeah, yarn.

It won't surprise you to know that I have a problem finishing projects ... and that I have no problem starting them. About 10 years ago, I picked up knitting. It was an innocent enough habit at first, but as I became further entrenched in the terrible relationship with my former fiance, I spent more time at the yarn store hiding from him and the reality of our relationship and more money buying yarn I was never going to knit up into anything.

This is a common enough affliction among knitters and other people with obsessive tendencies. I'm sure some of you know what I'm talking about. You don't actually need that thing, but by god, you want it NOW. And you can't get rid of it because, heaven forbid, you might need it someday. At various points in my life, I've had this attitude towards all kinds of things; for instance, I'm currently trying to curb my obsession with adorable dresses and antique autoharps. I'm doing okay with the former, not so much with the latter.

So yes, I collected a lot of yarn. And I took it with me when I moved out of the shared apartment and into my protective aerie in South Austin, and again when I moved to Brooklyn at the end of 2006.

And despite the fact that I have a side business that actually involves knitting, most of my hoarde remained in plastic bins, generally untouched. I lugged it all up to the fourth floor front room closet (technically the Kindling & Tinder workroom is in Pinkie's apartment, not mine...) and occasionally riffled through the four musty casks looking for something or another, but mostly all that yarn just sat lumpen in the closet, a wad of wool-shaped unhappiness. Thousands of dollars and thousands of hours spent avoiding ... everything. And I couldn't let it go.

Until Sunday afternoon, that is.

Ok, now this is probably the part of the story you're really interested in, which is how the Bellmer Dolls made me clean out the deadwood. How, for the maybe third or fourth time since I've started this blog, did I see a show that literally changed my life. No, I'm not exaggerating.

I'd had a really bad week. I was supposed to hire a new assistant, but the budget won't allow for it now. (I basically had to demote my old assistant, and as such am now doing 2.5 peoples' work, as I'm also missing an intern ...) I'm editing 5 books currently. Thousands of pages of minutae. When I get home, my eyes ache and burn (the recent arrival of spring isn't helping on that score either); I don't want to go out, I don't want to write for this blog, I don't want to listen to music, I don't want to knit. I want to fucking stare at the wall. I'm not complaining, really -- I actually quite like my job, and the people I work with. But between sinus headaches, taxes general bullshit, I was beat.

So, you'll understand how important it is to have somewhere nice and cozy to go on a Saturday night; enter the Bellmers' residency at The Charleston, week two. As the rest of loathsome Williamsburg teems above, I am safe in a low-ceilinged firetrap of a basement (see last week's review for a full accout of the glories of The Charleston's performance space).

I admit, I was only mildly interested in openers The Brides and Shock Cinema. And, they were only worthy of mild interest; but we were all the more amused by the presence of Pinkie's darling co-worker Miss Arabella Churchill, who is seriously a Rich Girl-in-training. Raised on Roxy Music and Bowie, we're gonna start easing her into the intensive Eno programme shortly.

A few picturesque details about the Bellmer Dolls this week: Peter's shirt was hideous, but at least he didn't split his pants. At several points in the set, a staple gun and drumsticks were used as weapons. With love, of course. And, one of the things I love about being crammed into a space that tiny is that you can hear the jangle of Anthony's tiny prayer bell tied to the headstock of his bass, ringing out a demented call to prayer as he bends his instrument into some kind of submission.

A demented call to prayer indeed -- Peter brought the dirty preacher act back. Unlike the nearly rareified comfort of last week's performance, the air was brittle with the itchy, creaky tension of boys who'd been locked in a practice room all day. We knew we were in for something quite different. And from first tight rhythm lines to the last broken holler and squall of feedback in the dark, I was, as ever, transfixed.

It's all at once too much and sometimes not enough ... but as the set progressed, blazing through 2.5 minute messy garage raveups (including "Automation," one of the band's very first songs) to the more eloquent filth of old faves "The Diva" and "Push! Push!" it became clear to me that we were all going down together. Or maybe it was just me; I barely registered the people around me, at one point it felt I was in some sort of Lynchian nightmare: words of fire hung in the air; the band became smudgy shadows behind a wall of distorted sound.

Wait -- not really, but it sounds cool, huh? I mean, it felt like that at least. It did.

The perverse finale of "Push! Push!" really can't be put into words without edging towards ridiculous hyperbole. I always look forward to this moment of performance with sick glee; we all know Peter's going to molest Anthony in some way or another whilst Daniel steers the ship straight into a maelstrom of noisy, feedback-drenched petits-morts. There was a great amount of shoving and hollering and near-destruction of various instruments (keyboards, kick drums, etc.) until the lone, hot light bulb shining on stage was unscrewed and the rest of the lights came down, leaving us in the dark, the air so thick with sinewy, booming feedback that you could nearly taste the sound waves bouncing by. (See, I told you ... ridiculous hyperbole!!)

And when it was all over, I found I couldn't speak. Didn't want to speak. I couldn't even tell anyone good night and loitered on a patch of sidewalk outside the Charleston, watching everything through the wrong side of a spyglass; everyone around me was so very, very tiny, and everything inside me was so very, very large. Somewhere in all that bloodletting and hollering, something had rattled loose inside, and I wasn't sure what drawer in my compartmentalized brain it had tumbled out of.

You must understand, it is very unlike me to be this way.

And I was really quite out of sorts all the way home the roundabout way -- all the way across the river to 8th Ave. on the L to catch the late-night A train all the way back home to Bed-Stuy. (Believe me when I tell you Williamsburg is as far from Bed-Stuy as it is from ... Mars.) Even a late-night snack didn't bring me back around, and I stayed up far too long, just thinking of nothing before drifting into a stretched-thin sleep that ended far too soon.

Which brings me back to the yarn.

After a crabby morning, bolstered by a few Americanos, I suddenly decided -- apropos of nothing, really -- to clean out the workroom closet. Specifically, all that bloody yarn. And I pulled out everything. Sorted abandoned projects from viable ones. Threw away grotty plastic bags. Re-balled falling-apart skeins. Ripped out unfinished pieces. Threw everything I couldn't stand to look at ever again into an empty 20-gallon plastic bin, which was soon overflowing with the last cast-off bits of an old life I thought I'd discarded long ago. And it's all earmarked now for donation to worthy causes -- to teach kids to knit, or to make hats and scarves for the homeless, or baby blankets for tiny little souls new to the world. Because some good should come of all that.

So, there you have it -- the Bellmer Dolls show that changed my life, and the tale of the yarnpocalypse. As a reward for making it this far, some tracks selected by Pinkie (and I threw in the last one...because I am a sap!); it was amusing, once I was able to speak again, we both remarked upon the fact that we never mentioned that the Bellmers owe more than a little to the stark, spiky early work of Siouxsie and the Banshees. Especially when Peter opens up and ... bellows with abandon; or the way the formidable combo of Anthony and Daniel in the rhythm section fill out the remaining corners of every song, barely leaving any room for the guitar at all. Yes, just like that.

Siouxsie and the Banshees -- Carcass
Siouxsie and the Banshees -- Metal Postcard
from The Scream, 1978

Siouxsie and the Banshees -- Dazzle (Glamour Mix)
from the "Dazzle" 12" single, 1984

Morrissey & Siouxsie -- Interlude
single-only, 1995; cover of a standard popularized by Timi Yuro in 1968

The Bellmer Dolls play the next two Saturdays at The Charleston in Williamsburg, right across from the Bedford L stop. See you there? Preacher and the Knife open this week (great if you love hollerin' boys) and Fresh Kills, who are like, you know, the oh-my-gawth version of The Hold Steady.

2008-04-21T14:27:00.001-04:00

We've caved. We have a Tumblr (like all the cool kids, apparently), which we totally adore. We've already linked to lots of thrilling things: scopitones, recipes, show schedules ... you name it. One thing I hate, however is the lack of comment functionality, but I'm sure that serves some esoteric Web 2.0 purpose that I can't fathom. It feels so self-indulgent with no feedback! And yet! It's high on the instant gratification factor! There's good and bad, I guess. (Speaking of new toys, I've dabbled with Muxtape, but haven't posted anything yet.)

Anyway, add our Tumblr to your RSS feed reader, or we'll kick yr butt.

And, watch this space for my review of the Bellmer Dolls @ The Charleston, Week Two (yay, my turn to write about them!) and a rundown of the best and worst that's passed through our post box lately. Thrills!

2008-04-14T01:19:00.006-04:00

Sunday night is 120 Minutes on VH1 Classic. Just like the uh, good old days. (Yes, we are so that old!) What follows is a transcript of an actual conversation between your friend, Cindy Hotpoint, and the illustrious Pinkie Von Bloom, which took place just a few minutes ago.

[Love and Rockets' "So Alive" on the TV]

PVB: Blegh!
CH: Oh yay! Man, I was so obsessed with this song when it came out.
PVB: I'm sorry. This is is totally the worst Love and Rockets song ever.
CH: Oh, cut me some slack, I was like 10 years old!
PVB: You were older than that! This was 8th grade.
CH: Ok, fine -- I was 12, 13 at most. Again, cut me some slack.
PVB: [makes scissor motions with her fingers] I'm cutting, I'm cutting!
CH: I mean, really -- what else sounded like this then?
PVB: [sighs heavily] Nothing.
CH: See! My point exactly. I still love it!!! [sings along loudly]
PVB: [mumbles] It still sucks. The whole album sucks.

So, that being said, here's some assorted Love and Rockets (and related projects...) that Pinkie deems worthy; you're welcome from the land of late-night vinyl ripping.

(Also, you know that they're getting back together and playing Coachella in a few weeks, right? I'm fundamentally opposed to reunions -- even when they're of badass bands -- so I'm not too bummed to be missing that particular nightmare in the desert with drunk LA hipsters. Seriously.)

Bauhaus -- Kick in the Eye
Tones on Tail -- Go!
Love and Rockets -- The Dog-End of a Day Gone By
Love and Rockets -- Kundalini Express

Love and Rockets -- Ball of Confusion.

We'll be back with our weekend recap tomorrow night. We may or may not still be recovering from the awesomeness.

ps -- If you're wondering about the header image, more about the fantastic Love and Rockets graphic novels by Los Bros. Hernandez can be found in this handy Wikipedia entry. Because they're awesome too -- even though I pretty much universally hate all pretentious comic books. Except these. Because er, they're not pretentious.

2008-03-23T23:08:00.011-04:00

(photo courtesy of iandavid)

Well, sorry we didn't get to the post-apocalyptic playlist last week; I'll save that for another time -- promise.

What to say about The Mountain Goats show at Webster Hall? I'll admit, it was weird. It's always kind of weird to see your friends play that venue; its so huge, and hey, remember that time you saw them with 30 other people in a tiny room a million years ago? (It's an old story around here...) But it was an amazing show nonetheless; it was the first time I'd seen them play with drummer ~~John~~ Jon Wurster, who's amazing. And, though reports varied about the sound quality, it sounded pretty damn good on the balcony level. And I'm a little bummed that I didn't think to swing by the merch table and pick up one of the new hoodies.

And we must sincerely thank Mr. Darnielle for playing "Have to Explode" (off sentimental fave Tallahassee) during the 'solo' bit of the set -- I think that's one of my very favorite songs in the entire tMG ouevre. Also, we simply must let you know that Peter Hughes may indeed have (finally!!) ascended to the post of Best-Dressed Bassist in Indie Rock, snatching that coveted post from the grabby hands of Carlos Dengler. (Fashion-forward cardigans and sharp topcoats are rad, but NOTHING trumps Etro.)

We send our very best wishes to Mr. Darnielle & co., and hope that he's feeling better soon; illness recently forced the band to cancel the upcoming Australian/NZ leg of their spring tour.

The Mountain Goats -- Have To Explode

In the meantime, I can't help but want to share this with you: YouTube videos of Mountain Goats covers. Everyone from Ben Gibbard to teenage girls in Europe. Amazing stuff.

(photo courtesy of ryan muir)

As for The Gutter Twins -- it was sublime. We still don't have words -- especially when it comes to discussing, say, that bit of "Amazing Grace" in the midst of an 8-song (or thereabouts) encore. We'll just let Dinah Washington tell you about our general feelings.

(That being said, those guys are touring like gangbusters, and if they're headed your way, you really need to go -- I'm looking at you specifically, Europe -- if you're in need of some soul saving at the bottom of a grim, hazy, red-lit oubliette. Or something like that.)

Dinah Washington -- Fat Daddy

**

One of the best things that happened at this one-two punch of shows at Webster Hall this week was the chance to see two bands that were sorta on our radar who totally blew us away in person.

The Moaners, who opened for the Mountain Goats, are some fine ladies who play some very fine blues music. We're always glad to see women who don't play like "girls" (sorry, really, it happens); and this guitar-and-drums duo pack a vicious wallop. (Also, don't listen to anyone who compares them to The White Stripes; think early, early Quasi instead.)

That being said, I have to take someone to task here: neither the band nor their label, Yep Roc, provide a sample mp3; however, you can stream their new album, Blackwing Yalobusha, at the Yep Roc site. So, go buy the album, people, okay? Because Melissa and Laura seem the type who would not appreciate you engaging in piracy.

As for Great Northern, they are consumate professionals -- L.A. scene veterans whose lush, epic sound brings to mind a bizarre hybrid of Fiona Apple, Medicine, and Slowdive. Early demos suggested a more twinkly L.A. powerpop sound (by way of the band's associations with Earlimart and Grandaddy), but the band's definitely decided that a more dark and mysterious sound is the way to go live -- or maybe it's just touring with the Gutter Twins that's brought out their wicked side.

This means, unfortunately, that any of the recordings out there, especially from their debut Trading Twilight for Daylight, frankly don't do Great Northern justice. It's hard to say that because they do have so much promise live. That being said, I very strongly believe that they need to possibly license the hell out of the following song and embed it into the brains of teenage girls, who, I believe, would totally eat it up.

Great Northern -- Telling Lies

**

We're WAY busy this week; we've got a hastily-scheduled Kindling & Tinder photoshoot and two dj gigs -- Wednesday we'll be curating the music selections at Sidecar Bar in Park Slope at the second installation of the Brooklyn Based Cocktail Club. We'll be bringing the Mexican music to go with the tequila theme, so come by between 6:30 and 9pm and say hello.

And Thursday we're the guest djs at Corduroy, the new monthly at Cakeshop. Also on the bill are the inimitable DJ Jennifer and the perky pop of The Fourelles. Again, stop by and say hello!

2008-03-18T01:12:00.006-04:00

Hello, dear readers. We've got a mad week ahead, what with The Mountain Goats tonight at Webster Hall and The Gutter Twins on Wednesday, also at NYC's moldiest venue. (n.b. The Mountain Goats play Brooklyn at the Music Hall of Williamsburg on Wednesday, btw) You should come too, yeah?

Have fun recovering from SXSW; we'll see you later this week, wherein we will post our post-apocalyptic playlist (it's a real bruiser), tell you about our misadventures at the Virgin Megastore and exhort you to go see The Vanity Set this weekend (Saturday 3/22 at Supreme Trading and Sunday 3/23 at the Annex). Also, we solemnly promise to stop bitching about the mediocrity of Southby coverage in the mainstream media. Maybe.

The Mountain Goats -- Lovecraft in Brooklyn (repost)
The Gutter Twins -- I Was in Love With You

2008-03-14T00:44:00.014-04:00

Andi and Duckie are silently judging you.

Believe me, the above image will make sense. In a minute.

This is just a brief post. I hope that everyone @ SXSW is having a good time; we're looking forward to seeing What Made Milwaukee Famous and Louis XIV at Irving Plaza (or Filmore East, or whatever they're calling it these days...) tonight.

It seems like outside of the SXSW action, all anyone was really talking about this week was Vampire Weekend -- be it their Saturday Night Live appearance, or the fact that they seem to be everywhere at SXSW this year.

Now, I know it's become terribly passe to criticize Vampire Weekend or froth at the mouth about them or what have you, but I must relate the following story to you.

One of my co-workers is a bit older than me and is totally adorable because she only keeps up with the new music via what she sees on TV. She loves Ghostland Observatory and Bloc Party because she saw them on Austin City Limits. But she was a hardcore fangirl back in the day -- we had a great conversation about Urge Overkill, of all things, a few weeks ago. Anyway, yesterday afternoon she ambled over to my desk and asked, "So, what do you think of this Vampire Weekend band?"

"Well, I honestly don't like them," I said -- remembering with a shudder when The L Magazine pegged them as a "band to watch" early last year and how I kind of threw up in my mouth a little as my eyes first met the term "Upper West Side Soweto," and how that pretty much made me want to give up writing about music altogether.

"Oh good!" she sighed. "I kept hearing about how great they were, and when I saw them on Saturday Night Live, all I could think was: If Blaine and Steff started a band, it would sound just like this."

By Blaine and Steff, dear readers, she meant Andrew McCarthy and James Spader's characters, respectively, in the 80's teen angst epic Pretty in Pink.

"Yes," I said. "After Andi and Blaine broke up, and Andi got together with Duckie [which is how it should have turned out in the first place], Blaine starts a band with Steff in a fruitless attempt to win her back!" (n.b. Amusingly, when I related this story to Pinkie later that day, she totally followed my co-worker's imaginings to the same logical conclusion.)

"Exactly. And that band is totally Vampire Weekend."

So, there you have it kids. When you wonder why us crabby old bloggers hate Vampire Weekend -- it's not really because of the inappropriate appropriation of South African pop by tacky upper middle class white kids who have no sense of musical history. Rather, it's because they remind us of the Blaines and the Steffs of the world. [A note from Pinkie: Another reason the Soweto reference is completely offensive is that those of us who are cranky and jaded enough to make the Blaine & Steff connection are also old enough to remember Apartheid while it was happening. Somehow Vampire Weekend's namecheck doesn't ring with the same passion as Peter Gabriel's homage to Stephen Biko.]

The archetypes of high school society presented in Pretty in Pink are slightly quaint relics now. It's no longer taboo to make your own clothes, dress differently, hound dark rock clubs on a school night -- it's practically de rigeur. And from the outside, it seems like for many teenagers and early 20-somethings, faceless interactions through the Internet and other new technologes, as well as the economic opulence of the past 10 years or so, have completely wiped hardcore class distinctions that were the foundation of youth culture in the 80's and 90's.

So yeah, cut us some slack. Those Vampire Weekend songs are p(r)eppy and hollow and catchy -- and they're totally the Tapes 'n Tapes of 2007-8 (on the same label, even!) -- good for them. But frankly, we're still hanging out with the music nerds and the weirdos and the burnouts and the drama fags and other assorted high school untouchables. And we'd much rather listen to the music they're making now.

Just for you, some selections from the Pretty in Pink soundtrack.

The Smiths -- Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want
The Psychedelic Furs -- Pretty In Pink
Echo and the Bunnymen -- Bring On The Dancing Horses
Orchestral Manoeuvers in the Dark -- If You Leave

Bonus vid, New Order -- Shellshock

2008-03-10T01:35:00.005-04:00

(photo credit: Chrissy Lush)

What can you say about seeing Nick Cave? Even a truncated, kind of under-rehearsed set?

It was fucking awesome.

Especially now that we're uh, grown-up ladies. Because, although we've been fans since high school, or perhaps earlier -- we can't quite agree on that point -- we'd never seen Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds play live.

(We imagine we both probably saw the video for "The Mercy Seat" and thought: He's pretty, but this is kinda scary...)

But you know, it all made sense when it came down to parsing out preferences a few years down the road. Suddenly, that brand of grown-up male sexuality wasn't so intimidating. It was ... hot.

And even though Nick Cave is kind of ridiculous and balding and still flails about in a gawky way (but never, I would say, a parody of himself ... or Neil Diamond -- at least not too badly), we were just as uh, moved as when we were teenage girls.

Gentlemen, I warn you. He's set that bar pretty high. Keep tryin', y'all. And for those of you just a centimeter from grasping it full in hand, we salute you. Because you're awesome.

And to the pretty, pretty boy in the crowd with that spectac mohawk/lazy eye configuration: Bless you, my child -- keep fighting the good fight. This one's for you:

Other PLUG Award highlights: St. Vincent was also pretty incredible and The Forms aren't quite ready to play venues as big as Terminal Five. Speaking of -- the last time we saw White Denim was at Chain Drive, so seeing them in a venue that large was just weird. And hey, I finally got to see Dizzee Rascal, and probably will never see him again. Not surprisingly, Jose Gonzales was kind of a yawner. Matt LeMay, we saw yr. hair, but not the rest of you -- do you need a Nick Cave primer now, or have you absorbed the entire ouevre since Thursday? Oh and! Sorry Bryce, I'm totally night blind and totally thought you were Aaron...

2008-03-06T00:05:00.007-05:00

(photo credit: Cambria Harkey; location: End of an Ear, our favorite wrecka sto in THE WHOLE WORLD.)

Oh, my bad! Yesterday we were so uh, excited by sexy old bastards that we forgot to tell you that our Austin homeboys, What Made Milwaukee Famous, have a new album out, too! And a sassy video with fencing (and Farmer in an eyepatch!) for the first single, "Sultan." And Lance Armstrong. We're not a fan of the latter, but hey -- they share management, so.

Here's some old, old tracks from the pre-Barsuk version of Trying To Never Catch Up -- the one gift that my awful ex-boyfriend bought me (immediately after I saw the band play for the first time, sometime in 2002) that I actually still have. And remind me to tell you why I have a vintage seal fur coat sometime, instead of those damn William T. Vollman books he bought me. Anyway, my fave is "Hellodrama;" Pinkie prefers "Around the Gills," a track that didn't make it on to the Barsuk version of the album.

What Made Milwaukee Famous -- Hellodrama
What Made Milwaukee Famous -- Around the Gills

And here's a sample track from the new album, What Doesn't Kill Us.

What Made Milwaukee Famous -- Resistance St.

This is special shout-out to Joanna, awesome cookbook author and new mommy, who introduced me to Milwaukee initially; she was also with us the first time Pinkie saw the band, at Emo's Free Week 2005 with The Chapters and This Microwave World. Wow, things sure have changed since then. Damn.

WWMF are on tour this spring with Louis XIV -- check 'em out when they come your way, they're great live. As proof -- here's some highlights from WMMF's legendary "Austin City Limits" appearance, wherein they totally destroyed headliners Franz Ferdinand.

What Made Milwaukee Famous, Austin City Limits, Video Highlights

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***

Hey! We're hipster douchebags! And this guy said so. (Quel Chicago!) Pinkie's telling me that I am a hipster, and well, I guess it really is the douchebag part I take issue with, actually. I bet he just had to say something shitty because we like Eno. Anyway, too bad there's no comments in the Electrical Audio LOLbini thread from Steve himself. Oh, and. I didn't use proper LOLgrammar because hello, it's Steve Albini! Like he'd ever use imperfect grammar! Duh.

2008-03-05T00:04:00.011-05:00

(i have used my photoshop skillz for EV1L!!!!!1!!!!! pinkie found the putrescent brushes!)

So, while everyone plotting their adventures in Austin (where?) and getting tied up in that SXSW nonsense, we are content to stay here in NYC and sit around and listen to the latest releases from Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds and The Gutter Twins -- Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!! and Saturnalia, respectively.

For those of you who missed the Valentine's Day pr blitz, The Gutter Twins are the inimitable and formidable Greg Dulli (late of The Afghan Whigs) and Mark Lanegan (ex-Screaming Trees). Though Lanegan appeared on all the Twilight Singers albums (Dulli's sorta solo project from 2000-2007), he started appearing as a backup singer on TS tours a few years ago; we flipped out when we saw them at The Parish in the fall of 2006 -- what a sight to behold! And not bad for the ears, either.

Apparently, they so enjoyed the experience of working together that they started recording an album in 2003, ditched the Twilight Singers mantle and reemerged as The Gutter Twins. The album so long in the making, Saturnalia, was released by Sub Pop yesterday. First off, put your 90's prejudices behind you -- really, if anyone should have survived the Grunge shitstorm, it's Dulli and Lanegan. They never quite fit the paradigm anyway, producing music on the fringes of fame in the mid-90's. And, it's true, Saturnalia flirts with the churning, grinding sound that made the Afghan Whigs so divine -- but it's certainly not a detriment. (Especially on panty peeler "God's Children," and album closer "Front Street" is ripped right from the old Whigs' epic blues playbook.)

And holy buckets, did we mention Mark Lanegan's voice yet? (You remember his voice? Right? Tar-lined gravel pit, 40 feet deep?) Not that Dulli's a slouch in this department -- just a mention of his impromptu cover of "I'm On Fire" at the aforementioned Twilight Singers show is enough to send us into paroxysms of teenage girl giggles and wise old lady winks.

And, of course, it doesn't help our current lovelorn states that Saturnalia is full of real heartbreakers and longing. Pinkie advises not listening to it anywhere in public if Dulli/Lanegan vocals might make you weak in the knees.

We missed The Gutter Twins' now kind of mythic Valentine's Day gig at Bowery; you can catch them, though, on tour now through the US and Europe through May 4. They'll be back in NYC on March 19th at Webster Hall.

Your special bonus, the video for the Afghan Whigs' "Gentlemen"

And here's a piece of "Front Street" live in London a few days ago.

As an interlude, I was reminded that once upon a time, we called Devastations something along the lines of Nick Cave with a dash of Afghan Whigs. (No, really. I did.) They also kind of sounded like The National, occasionally. Now they're like. Um. Well, let's just say that on their new one, Yes, U, they've figured out how to sound like ... themselves. I know we recommended this last week, but we must bring it up again, mostly as a segue into the Nick Cave section of this entry.

Devastations -- Rosa
Devastations -- Mistakes

Yr. next bonus video. Devastations' "Take You Home"

Right. So, we kind of have this new unofficial rule about not listening to albums before release dates. You'll notice that Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds' latest, Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!!, was out Monday in the UK, and won't be out here until April sometime. Really, we love Mute and all, but separate release dates in this day and age seem kind of silly. Therefore, we're discussing this one, as we did with the new Goldfrapp, after the UK release. Because we want to.

We must also mention that as much as we lurve Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds, we will NOT be going to see them play what is sure to be a truncated, assy set at the loathsome PLUG Awards this Thursday at Terminal 5. Because your favorite Cindy Hotpoint will NOT suffer through Patton Oswalt for anyone, even Nick Cave. And Pinkie just hates "fun." We endured the PLUG nonsense once before to see The National and Celebration; the only thing that saved the experience, besides the great sets from the aforementioned bands, were the motion graphics from Austin's awesome SUPER!ALRIGHT!. Here's hoping that Nick Cave et al play more U.S. dates sometime this year, even if they've stated they won't. We'll keep our fingers crossed. [N.B. and edit by Pinkie - We are complete and total liars. We'll see you there. But I still hate "fun."]

So, right, the album. Well, ok. How do you follow up Abattoir Blues/Lyre of Orpheus AND Grinderman? Well, you make a slightly goofy album that takes a sharp right turn somewhere in the middle and you end up back squarely on the road to that dark warehouse out by the industrial park where you probably shouldn't go, but there's a really great band playing there, or so you hear. Maybe.

Which is to say that we just got through listening to Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!!, and spent a good portion of it with idiotic grins plastered to our little faces. There's really nothing quite like Nick Cave hollering epic lyrics for 20 minutes straight and then quietly crooning something dirty about 3 songs later. I've seen the phrase "return to form" and "new direction" both bandied about in reference to this album -- that's a little reductive. It's not like we're begging for Nick Cave and band to do something new -- though we certainly didn't turn down Grinderman's ham-fisted come-ons -- but we always love it when he and the boys surprise us. Which is why we're quite pleased to whole-heartedly recommend Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!!. Like you expected anything less...

Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds -- Jack the Ripper
Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds -- (I'll Love You) Till the End of the World
Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds -- Breathless

Bonus vid, natch. Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds -- "Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!!"

ps -- here's our setlist from Saturday -- in case you were wondering. Thanks to Neon Lights for having us, the staff at Galapagos for being really awesome and sweet and Crystal Stilts for being totally amazing and hype-worthy.

Wolfgang Press -- Shut That Door // Grinderman -- No Pussy Blues // Human Sexual Response -- What Does Sex Mean To Me? // James White & the Blacks -- Contort Yrself

X-Ray Spex -- Art-i-ficial // Japan -- Adolescent Sex // Suzi Quatro -- Rock Hard // Sparks -- Angst in Yr Pants // Human League -- Being Boiled // This Microwave World -- Fun Fun Fun // Throbbing Gristle -- Hot on the Heels of Love // Felix da Housecat -- Silver Screen Shower Scene // Marsheaux -- Popcorn // Book of Love -- Lullabye // Brian Eno -- Everything Merges With the Night.

Short and sweet, but it was a cold night and there was a bangin' party in the little room that looked like gobs of fun...

2008-02-27T23:11:00.009-05:00

[photo by--you guessed it--Kathryn Yu]

We've just returned form the Brooklyn Based Cocktail Club event, thoroughly perplexed by the existence of Serato, and how many superfluous buttons it adds to an otherwise pretty simple Rane mixer. Not that we don't admire the required skillset, since it's a lot like working with records, and we have to admit that the the idea of having a virtually unlimited library of tracks is intriguing, however, the reality of mixing mp3s feels vaguely counterintuitive. When exiting the DJ booth, the 10pm DJ asked incredulously, "is that a record box?" He had only a backpack, while we had two full crates, handbags, and foofy coats. I bet he didn't need car service to get to and fro.

So yeah, here's the tracklisting:

Die Comedian Harmonists -- Der Onkel Bumba aus Kalumba // Björk Guðmundsdóttir & Tríó Guðmundar Ingólfssonar -- Bella símamær // Manhattan Transfer -- Chanson d'Amour // Bryan Ferry -- You Do Something to Me // Bryan Ferry -- Just One of Those Things // [technical difficulties after which CDs were completely abandoned] // Roxy Music -- Mother of Pearl // David Bowie -- Changes // Lou Reed -- Satellite of Love // John Cale -- Barracuda // Brian Eno -- Backwater // Human Sexual Response -- Guardian Angel // Sparks -- Eaten by the Monster of Love // Spoon -- Sister Jack // Stone Roses -- She Bangs the Drums // Matthew Sweet -- Girlfriend // Lush -- I Wanna Be Your Girlfriend // Unrest -- Cath Carroll // Tsunami -- In a Name // Belle & Sebastian -- You're Just a Baby // Future Bible Heroes -- Love is Blue // The Smiths -- The Boy With a Thorn in His Side // David Bowie -- Sound & Vision // Pretenders -- Talk of the Town // Martha & the Muffins -- Women Around the World at Work // Echo & the Bunnymen -- Crystal Days // Captain & Tennille -- Love Will Keep Us Together // Pizzicato Five -- Sweet Soul Revue // ABC -- When Smokey Sings // Wilson Pickett -- Everybody Needs Somebody to Love // Gladys Knight & the Pips -- Who Is She (And What Is She to You) // The Exciters -- He's Got the Power // Supremes -- Back in My Arms Again // Spoon -- Small Stakes // Johnathan Richman -- Rockin' Shopping Center // The Judy's -- Perfect Crime // Patsy Cline -- Tra Le La Le La Triangle // Loretta Lynn -- Day Dreams About Night Things // Burt Bacharach -- Mexican Divorce // Tammy Wynette - Don't Come Home a Drinkin' (With Lovin' on Your Mind) // Bette Midler -- Friends

Tomorrow night (2/28) is the second installment of Corduroy at Cake Shop, hosted by our friends Jennifer (the longtime hostess of Ear Candy on Austin's KOOP radio, now residing in Brooklyn) and Andi (My Favorite). As usual, they'll bring you indie, new wave, post punk, C-86, 60s girls groups, ye ye...wait...this sounds like us! They're twee as fuck, and we wuv them. Also, Sparrow House, the solo side project of our friend Jared van Fleet of Voxtrot, will be performing at 11:30 sharp. Cover is $3 and we hear tale of drink specials.

My Favorite -- Burning Hearts
My Favorite -- Working Class Jacket
Sparrow House -- When I Am Gone
Voxtrot -- Firecracker

Oh yeah...and Escort are at Southpaw on Friday, but this girl is too damned tired for disco after two school nights out in a row. Cindy has informed me that this is a sad state of affairs.

And now, a note from Cindy: Today I was reading the latest issue of Forbes, which I get at the office, and the companion issue of Forbes Life, their new upscale lifestyle publication had an airy, positive review of the new Vampire Weekend record. There was also an article about collecting pricey watches, one of which was like, $460,000. I mean, doesn't that tell you everything you need to know (or maybe don't want to know) about Vampire Weekend? I thought so. That really expensive watch was kind of beautiful, though.

2008-02-26T23:57:00.005-05:00

What makes us happier than anything, anything in the world, nearly? Word of the new Shearwater record Rook, due out June 3. I know, it's a long wait, but never too soon to start the buzz, right? Matador dropped the first sample mp3, "Rooks" today over on the Matablog, along with the gorgeous cover art. Fancy dancer Gerard Cosloy was right on when he mentioned the word "epic" -- if this doesn't give you chills and make your toes tingle, I worry about your general health. (Check out this lovely in-the-studio slideshow for photographic hints of what's to come.)

Shearwater -- Rooks

***

I rang up the nice folks at Blog Fresh Radio recently to gush at them about the new Mountain Goats record -- James and James also put in their two cents in this episode, which means that you should probably go listen to the whole thing for some pure, undiluted enthusiasm that may or may not suffocate you with its smothering earnestness.

***

We admit, we haven't done the best job in the past few months of keeping up with what all the cute kids are dancing to these days, but something tells me that they should be shakin' their tailfeathers to the party-psychedelia of Sunny Day Sets Fire. Friend of TRGAW, the rapidly ascending, Sparks lovin' Baron Von Luxxury, has remixed "Brainless," which appears on the band's new Stranger Remix EP, currently available for the buying from the I Am Sound label shop and other fine retail outlets. CSS, Mad Decent, and XXXChange from Spank Rock also contribute fab remixes. (Oh, and it should also be mentioned that unremixed, the band sounds like, well ... ELO. Which is always a good thing.)

Sunny Day Sets Fire -- Stranger
Sunny Day Sets Fire -- Brainless (Baron Von Luxxury Remix)
Sunny Day Sets Fire -- Wilderness (CSS Remix)

***

Also, if you're in Austin -- go see Maneja Beto tonight (2/27) at Mohawk. We miss them so -- their perfect-pitch rock en Español is the kind of thing your correspondents get homesick for every now and then. And they do a hell of a cover of "Love Will Tear Us Apart" that has the power to make you realize just why the Mexicans love Morrissey. (There's an internal logic to that statement that makes sense, if you squint hard enough. Manchester.)

Maneja Beto -- Y El Vinuete y Aleyda

And, if you're an exiled Austinite in New York, and our gig at Galapagos isn't your cup of tea -- but dance parties with DJ Mel are -- go check out his guest stint at The Rub @ Southpaw Saturday (3/1) for what's sure to be an unparalleled (dirty), choice mix of old skool hip-hop.

***

In summation, we'd also like to remind you to join us at Huckleberry Bar tonight (2/27) for fancy rum cocktails and a trip through our collective record boxes, and on Saturday (3/1) at Galapagos for the first Neon Lights extravaganza of 2008 with Eamon Hamilton, Titus Andronicus and Crystal Stilts. We hope to see you at one, or both. I've varnished my nails and dyed my hair especially, you know. And Pinkie's gonna look real purty too.

***

Would you like to hear some Big Black? 'Cause we love Steve Albini enough to make a LOLbini. Sad -- but true!

Big Black -- The Model

2008-02-25T02:37:00.003-05:00

(These people just won an Oscar (tm), yo!)

Jonny Greenwood wuz robbed! Okay, okay -- I know why Mr. Greenwood's Penderecki-inspired score for There Will Be Blood was disqualified from consideration for an Academy Award, but still. On the other hand, we're totally chuffed that Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová won the award for Best Original Song for "Falling Slowly" from the precious shot-on-a-shoestring recording diary picture Once. And yeah, I probably didn't win my office Oscar pool (it would be a problem when you accidentally leave the best editing and cinematography choices BLANK -- if you know me, you know how ridic I felt when I realized this ...), but I totally picked them to win over the any of the dreck from Enchanted, so there's that at least! That being said, if I actually did win the pool, I'm totally running right out to buy a copy of Once on DVD -- which, if you haven't seen it, you really should. And if you aren't familiar with the music of Hansard's band The Frames, it would behoove you to that check it out as well. And clearly this probably means that Hansard and Irglová's touring act, The Swell Season, hit the road again soon.

It was kind of the weirdest, most "indie" Oscars ever, what with Tilda Swinton's win (woo!) and the Coen brothers cleaning up and Diablo Cody (née Brooke Busey-Hunt, which is a name with infinitely more caché) not wearing hosiery in front of millions of people. (Girl, what were you wearing? I mean, we all know that you can't get like, every dress at Target -- as apparently you, me and Pinkie do -- but srsly, maybe you should have called up Isaac.)

Anyway -- where was I? Oh yes, we also really must give a shout-out to Marion Cotillard, as well. We were thrilled by her performance in La Vie en Rose, being that we're giant Edith Piaf fans from way back (and Pinkie's well-known for her love of Marlene Dietrich, too, since we're on the subject -- I'm less enthusiastic, however). In order to really understand just how freakin' awesome Cotillard's performance was, exactly, we present these two amazing YouTube finds -- vintage Piaf performances from 1954 and 1963, respectively.

Edith Piaf -- Non je ne regrette rien

Jil Aigrot - Les mômes de la cloche (Aigrot provided the voice of the young Piaf in La Vie en Rose -- she's a chanteuse who's just released an album of Piaf tracks herself.)

And, in closing, it's worth remembering that exactly 10 years ago, Elliott Smith didn't win an Oscar.

Relatedly, for a bit of historical perspective, check out Mr. Smith's interview with NPR's Linda Wertheimer about providing the soundtrack to Good Will Hunting.

***

(photo courtesy of the ever-awesome Kathryn Yu)

What can we say about seeing The National at the BAM on Saturday, on the second night night of their sold-out two night stand at the Howard Gilman Opera House as part of the Brooklyn Next Festival?

Perhaps it's best to start by telling you about the very first time we saw them during Rocktober 2005, at The Parish in Austin (with Clap Yr Hands Say Yeah) when we were both running from the fallout of failed long-term relationships. The crowd thinned to about 50 hushed and reverent people after CYHSY!'s crummy and dull set -- and as tears poured down our cheeks, the clinking of the bartenders unloading the Hobart couldn't even distract us from the brilliant and dazzling display of pure naked male pain that The National so readily trafficked in those days. Or perhaps I could tell you (again?), about when we saw them at Haley's in Denton a few weeks after that, opening for John Vanderslice -- and we brought cookies and we were all so extremely drunk and Pinkie sat on a speaker at the front of the stage through the whole set and at some point and we went a little crazy during the R. Kelly dance party (a J.V. specialty), Matt gave me a cut-out of Bono's nose from the cover of Rolling Stone (it's still stuck to the bulletin board over my desk...).

In short: our previous history with The National involved a lot of repressed emotions and brown liquor and beer -- so, when we saw them at Bowery last May, after the release of the still kind of sub-par Boxer, it was just strange. They weren't quite polished rockstars yet, but you could see it happening. And we had 18 months of grown-up perspective -- and weren't drunk.

And after a summer and fall of hard touring just about every corner of the world, The National returned to Brooklyn, "indie rock superstars" (as the emcee before Saturday's show so astutely noted) triumphant. And while the new songs still seem to fall flat live, The band made up for it by bringing ripping versions of old favorites "Wasp Nest," "City Middle," "Mr. November" and "Daughters of the Soho Riots," a giant disco ball during "Fake Empire," and a final encore of heart-ripper "About Today" that left us weeping at the sheer wonderfulness of the whole experience. And, in the end, I'm not sure that I ever really need to see them play live again. I'd rather remember, I think, that amazing nights at The Parish and Hailey's -- and leaving the BAM into the snow-encrusted, cold Brooklyn night moved by the final song than struggling to find the magic again. That being said, a new song was sneakily tacked on to the playlist -- and it was incredible -- so maybe that resolution isn't as permanent as I'd like to think.

The National -- About Today

BONUS: The National's Beggars Banquet labelmates, Berlin-based Aussie handsome fellows, Devastations have a great new album out called Yes, U. Here's a track from Coal, their previous effort, that's kind of the, well, antipodal version of "About Today" -- it's the same song, practically -- only upside-down.

Devastations -- I Don't Want To Lose You Tonight

Oh, and before I forget -- we were utterly charmed, as usual, by the opening set from My Brightest Diamond (the lovely and talented Shara Worden & her folklorico-gone-wrong gown). She played a favorite of ours that she's never recorded, the Kurt Weill number "Youkali." We hope she'll put it on an upcoming record. For now, we have to make do with Teresa Stratas' version on her album The Unknown Kurt Weill.

Teresa Stratas -- Youkali

***

And, you know, speaking of Australians and Kurt Weill, we just have to share this video from 1995 Canadian TV production September Songs of Nick Cave doing "Mack the Knife." Brilliant.

***

And, in a feat of bringing everything full circle, here's Jonny Greenwood channeling Robert Fripp on Brian Eno's "Baby's On Fire" from the Velvet Goldmine soundtrack. He's part of the Venus in Furs, featuring other members of Radiohead, Suede, and Roxy Music.

Venus In Furs -- Baby's On Fire

***

Oh, btw, WOMAN are rapidly becoming that band we keep missing (much like M83 and Electrelane). Next time, guys!

2008-02-22T01:29:00.004-05:00

(photo credit: kathryn yu)

Hello everyone. It's Friday again, which means that (much like Loverboy) we've been working for the weekend. On the calendar for this particular fin-de-semaine is The National and My Brightest Diamond at the BAM on Saturday, followed by WOMAN and The Big Disappointments at the eternally nasty Lit Lounge. It's going to be a busy night. Somewhere, beauty sleep is going to have to fit in the picture as well, because we're fine ladies.

My Brightest Diamond -- Je n'en connais pas la fin / L'hymne l'amour
The National -- Murder Me Rachael (Live)

On the slate for next week, however, we have not one, but two DJ engagements. First, on Wednesday, February 27, we'll be at the decks for the inaugural Brooklyn Based Cocktail Club happy hour at Huckleberry Bar in Williamsburg:

And then...on Saturday, March 1, we'll be at Galapagos Art Space for Neon Lights' first party of the year with Eamon Hamilton (Brakes/ex-British Sea Power), Titus Andronicus, and Crystal Stilts:

Though we have been remiss in recent dedications, we simply must send a shoutout to the young man at Jay Street tunelessly mumbling Rihanna's "Please Don't Stop the Music" on Tuesday evening. Here's the original "mama-se mama-sa ma-ma-ko-sa." Contrary to popular belief, Michael Jackson isn't particularly innovative and settled out of court with Manu Dibango after the release of "Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'."

Manu Dibango - Soul Makossa

2008-02-18T01:29:00.009-05:00

Happy President's day, y'all!

Okay, so we have this Audacity thing, and thus the power to create the unholy multi-track compilation thingies like the ones we subjected you to for everyone's least favorite cash-generating guilt fest. Now that there's a real holiday resulting in a day off for certain varieties of wage earners, we're bringing you another mix. This particular one was made sometime in 2002 on MiniDisc for a roadtrip from Austin to Dallas. Though the trip was aborted and the disc later transferred to CD, this collection of songs lived on in infamy in my car, because there was always a slim chance of an emergency in which italo disco might be required. Somehow during the move to NYC, the CD was tucked into a homemade sleeve for a His Name is Alive rarities compilation that Andrea from Warped Reality made for me...also back in 2002/3. I found it last week. Clearly, one should keep her flamingly gay dance mixes filed next to Livonia.

Cindy can talk about EuroVision all she wants, but italo is where it's at. And truthfully, I didn't put enough italo on this mix, but my friend Mercedes Benzedrina was going to Dallas with me, and I knew he'd hit me between reminiscences about dancing in a cage for money at 7th and Red River when it was still the center of the universe, when there was a bartender at the Crossing (now Spiro's) who answered to "Granny." At the time in history at which these events occurred, Kylie Minogue was still doing the locomotion, and walking shorts and blazers were acceptable attire for club-going gentlemen. Thankfully, I was too young to witness this carnage in person, though I do know the words to all of Stock, Aitken & Waterman's hits. Follow links A, B, and C for some of the worst of italo...or some of the best, depending on your point of view. And follow this link to the...

TRGAW Disco Mix

We didn't listen to this after converting to mp3, so if there are any glitches let us know.

Silver Pozzoli - Around My Dream

This post is respectfully dedicated to John Tyler (not to be confused with John Taylor, though he does appear below and on this mix). In consulting Wikipedia's list of presidents, Tyler was the only one we'd never heard of...and he was responsible for the annexation of Texas. Duh!

Duran Duran - New Moon on Monday (not really italo, but it's my favorite)

Oh hell, I hate YouTube...

Japan - Gentlemen Take Polaroids...live (because it's never to late at night to look at Dave Sylvian)

2008-02-15T02:05:00.007-05:00

(click for larger format!)

So, did you survive your Valentine's Day? Here's my mix for you! It's a little less cohesive than Pinkie's, and a little less sentimental, but sappy all the same. That's me to the core, I guess. Weird and sappy.

I promise, I didn't make this with any gentleman in mind, really -- save perhaps, the one who thinks this is the best mix ever. In that case, that young man should email me posthaste for a torrid correspondence. It will be awesome.

Side One
Side Two

xoxo
Cindy

On the calendar this weekend is The Vanity Set's cabaret-freak-folk-goth-happening at Southpaw Saturday (2/16) -- it's their first show in three years; alas, to do that we'll probably have to miss White Rabbits and Effi Briest at the BAM (for free!!, 8pm) and Blacklist at THE X RATED PANTY PARTY (ew! you guys!) at Don Hill's. If you go, make sure to get a picture of Minor with someone's frilly drawers on his head. Srsly. Do it.

2008-02-14T00:23:00.010-05:00

(click for larger format!)

First in a series of two Valentine's Day mixtapes from The Rich Girls are Weeping.

This was made for a specific gentleman, but current circumstances are such that actually gifting him with it with it is inappropriate. Sharing it with others, however, isn't.

Side One
Side Two

xoxo
Pinkie Von Bloom

Cindy's mix is up tomorrow. (BTW, these long-format mp3s were ripped directly from vinyl via an Ion USB turntable and edited in Audacity.)

2008-02-11T23:59:00.000-05:00

(photo by Aubrey Edwards)

So, ok. The Dale Watson report is that ... there is no Dale Watson report, and there are 5 unhappy girls (four from Austin, one from Cleveland) in NYC right now. We'd planned to make Aubrey, Melissa, and Stephanie honorary Rich Girls and go swoon over Mr. Watson at the Rodeo Bar, but sadly, his dates last weekend were canceled. If we were in Austin, we could see him any night this week -- but since we're not, we're all real bummed. We are, however, monitoring his tour dates, and we promise, next time he comes around, there will indeed be a Dale Watson report.

Here's a gem ca. 1996, when we all still lived in Austin and Dale still believed in country music. (Yeah, that Austin is so long-gone now...) Suffice it to say, we're ready for you to mock us -- but we just can't resist a man in a silly silver suit.

Speaking of renegade country music crushes, we found this video on YouTube of our fave steel guitar savant Chris Scruggs (a/k/a Our Very Favorite Part of SXSW 2006). This is what country music should sound like, y'all. It's the kind you can dance to. It makes us all mushy. We wuv you, Chris Scruggs! Hurry up and finish yr record! [Pinkie points out that Chris Scruggs is wearing the lovely blond Gretsch here, rather than sitting behind the pedal steel.]

Stay warm, y'all. It's freezing here in Brooklyn. [Literally.]

2008-02-08T00:44:00.000-05:00

When we threw open the velvet curtains and tossed the dustcloths off the furniture last week and decided to reignite this project, Pinkie and I immediaely started digging through The Slush Pile, a/k/a the GIANT Shu Uemura shopping bag hidden behind my closet door full of over a year's worth of promo CDs (there's hundreds in there, at least!). We've actually received quite a few albums and miscellaneous promotional crap in the mail after a bit of a lull, so we thought we'd come clean and mention a few of the more interesting ones that have crossed our threshold recently (and not-so-recently). (Pinkie did most of the heavy lifting and listened to about 100 cds in 2 hours -- a superhuman feat of endurance if ever there was one. She would have you know that the free recipes included in the EMI international music series really weren't the bonus that EMI would like to believe they are.) We hope you'll hear something you like too.

We're not exactly sure how they got our home address, but when the frontman's named PH Lovecraft, is it really wise to ask too many questions? Ladies and gents, the soothing goth stylings of ... Funeral Crashers. No really -- they're really awesome! (Interesting side note: Mr. Lovecraft was a fellow video ho in the upcoming Bellmer Dolls video. He's such a cutie.) If you like what you hear, you can catch them Saturday (2/9) at Galapagos with uh, the soothing goth surf stylings of ... The Vandelles.

Funeral Crashers -- Curtains

Sometimes things find their way into your inbox from benevolent quarters; Dan of Hungry Eye records sent us two promos about an eon ago -- and we're sorry that we haven't had the chance to write about them until now...

Sixteens live on a cold, bleak, deserted island once inhabited by Adult., Danielle Dax, and Silverfish -- by which I mean, they live in uh, Oakland. If you like what you hear, you can catch them on 2/21 at The Knockout! in San Francisco.

Sixteens -- Crystalline Saturate

Because everyone should have a farewell kiss before martyrdom -- San Francisco's The Holy Kiss are gonna give you a big, wet, sloppy blues-y buss on your way to the pyre. Or something. Not surprisingly, they also play out soon (2/22) in San Fran, at Thee Parkside-Scatterbrain Jamboree AIDS Benefit Festival! (I am NOT making this up -- check their MySpace page for more details...)

The Holy Kiss -- Shot Love on a Back Line

And now for something ... not so dark and gloomy. Oh, come on ... you know we don't just love the dark and gloomy ... right? We accept young men in all kinds of suits. Including, naturally, Long Island City's own The Two Man Gentleman Band, those old-timey maestros of banjos & kazoos. How we've lived in this city so long and not known of their existence is beyond me -- so I say, thank you, Two Man Gentleman Band for sending some *ahem* Heavy Petting our way. Yes, that's right, their third album, Heavy Petting, will be released on 2/17. They're currently playing out and about in ... Florida (appropriate, I suppose) -- but will be back in NYC at the Rodeo Bar on 3/26. In the meantime, please partake of their genteel naughtiness. You'll thank us for it. Promise!

The Two Man Gentleman Band -- A Gentleman Knows How To Love (damn skippy!)

We may have missed the initial wave of hype for Brooklyn's purveyors of old-timey emo-type music The Forms, but rest assured, their Steve Albini-recorded, self-titled album has been on heavy rotation on laundry day for a few months now. And, if you ignored The Forms because of all that blog hype, may we suggest a listen now? If you're under 23, I'll let you know that this sounds a lot like what I was listenting to when I was 23; if you're on the wrong side of 30, like we are, The Forms will totally remind you of those music composition majors in the honors dorm who bought that 20 gallon bag of weed with their financial aid money. Oh, wait, you didn't know those guys. Or did you? Do tell! The Forms play the Gothamist Moveable Hype show on 2/15 with Pattern is Movement at Union Hall in Park Slope, Bklyn.

The Forms -- Transmission

And, well, while we're on the subject of old-timey emo, we'll close out this post with some Austin love. Zookeeper is the new project of Chris Simpson, late of Mineral and The Gloria Record (raise you hand if those names take you back to late nights at the Empanada Parlour!) -- and a rotating cast of guests, old friends and new. [Pinkie regretfully points out that she was probably somewhere on 4th Street during those years.] Up-and-coming Austin production gurus Erik Wofford and Alex Lyon (ex-The Arm, Zykos, and occasional guitar tech for Calla) pull duty behind the boards here, and when I tell you the whole album drips with all the deliciousness of a perfect pollen-free spring day in Austin. I know there's a few of y'all out there who might get a slight idea of what I mean. More than a few of the ex-emo crowd have dipped a toe into the 'Americana' pool to bounce back, with decidedly mixed results (White Whale, anyone?), but Simpson's got a winner here. If you read this in time, Austinites, catch Zookeeper tonight (2/8) at Emo's with Zykos, Alex Dupree & The Trapdoor Band, and Frank Smith.

Zookeeper -- Ballad of My Friends

Have a lovely weekend, and stay tuned next week for more tales from the slush pile, a Dale Watson report, and Our Valentine's Mix Tapes.

2008-02-05T00:03:00.000-05:00

I have the "Williamsburg Crud" -- a/k/a some crappy upper respiratory infection brought into my office last week by the creeps who live in Williamsburg. Nothing against them, or Williamsburg, but seriously, that place is like a freakin' kindergarten in more ways than one. The L train may be a swell train, but it's also a petri dish of disease. Sorry, you'd be this bitter too if you had a sharp, hacking cough that made you sound like a sick five-year-old. I'll get over it. Pass me a Ricola.

In the meantime, had a lovely time this weekend in Williamsburg, of all places -- and at the increasingly down-at-heel Annex in the increasingly trite Lower East Side. Pity that lovely faux walnut paneling is gouged like, 12 feet off the floor -- I don't even want to know how the hell that happened! But hey, they have nice barstools. [Pinkie argues that they're merely OK.]

We'd never actually been to the rather storied, infamous Glasslands, that bastion of hip artiness right next to the water and catty corner to the "historical" Domino Refinery monolith thing home to lots of rats who eat sugar. It's spitting distance from Manhattan (provided you don't mind a wade in the East River) and 2/3 a mile from the nearest Brooklyn subway stop. Riiiiiight. A $15 cab ride later (because you can't get there from any other neighborhood in Brooklyn, really -- unless it's one of the adjacent ones) we arrived just in time to catch the Napalm/Dero/Malat set (I totally tried to suggest a more mellifluous name, like Possum Noir -- one of my better suggestions, if I must say so -- but they had to be all Medeski, Martin & Wood about it). Anyway, wow. I mean sure, it's easy to rave about something when it's your friend's side project with his buddies from across the pond, but seriously... It was all kinds of dark and lovely and cinematic -- just what the doctor ordered. And any drummer who attacks his cymbals, as M. Dero did, with a length of chain is totally all right by us. And oooh, Tex Napalm is totally the naughty post-punk little brother of one of our other Berliner faves, Max Raabe (well, it makes sense to us, anyway... BTW, remind us to tell you about seeing Max Raabe und das Palastorchester from a box at Carnegie Hall for Pinkie's birthday with our friend Vonelle...)

So, anyway, catch the ol' Napalm/Dero/Malat train if you're in the PacNW this week:

Thursday, Feb 7 with Garland Ray Project (Sam Bond's, Eugene)
Friday, Feb 8 with The Dead Science & Magick Daggers (Vera Project, Seattle)
Saturday, Feb 9 with Magick Daggers and Garland Ray Project (Rotture, PDX)

Meanwhile, we thoroughly enjoyed Jerry Teel & the Big City Stompers, who did a grand cover of Johnny Cash and June Carter's "Long Legged Guitar Pickin' Man". And we totally got big, giant crushes on Five Dollar Priest before the bass cab blew out, bringing the proceedings to an early close. (Plus, they made us totally nostalgic for Austin's long-lost The Arm.)

Somehow, we managed to miss WOMAN both Saturday and Sunday (sorry, Ryan!) and we totally missed Mark Steiner & The NYC Pikers at the Annex because we're slow old ladies who need to do laundry on Sunday nights (sorry, Peter!), but here's a taste of his slinky song-stylings (with the aforementioned M. Dero on drums & Mr. Napalm on guitar) -- sit through the opening bit, it's worth it:

...

And now a note from Pinkie... Mere mention of The Arm is cause for me to start babbling about their fizzling out being the biggest disappointment in Austin music in the past several years (other than the mere existence of Sound Team). Ask me to justify it, and I can't, but I'm sort of embarrassed that I never fessed up, in person, about liking them so damned much. Sean Oh-No was sort of Austin's own James Murphy or Mark E. Smith and could (and probably still can) holler like no one's business, even though he's now over at The Onion A.V. Club. Five Dollar Priest took us back to that weird night at 710 when The Arm ran out of steam after an organ bit the dust. Cindy managed to get a word in amidst Ron Ward's hollering to tell me that she kind of missed The Arm, and that the Five Dollar Priest experience (ex-Swans / Sonic Youth status and a clarinetist notwithstanding) was probably the closest thing we were going to get...which led me to mumble something about the wrong city at the wrong time before I stepped back up onto the banquette so I could see the stage again. So NYC and other places, we bring you The Arm. Too little and too late.

The Arm -- Vile Lives
The Arm -- Song Automatic 1-2-3

In other news, another band from the hometown shortlist of awesomeness has a new EP. Said band would be Cry Blood Apache, who--last we saw them--were overly loud and performatively inaccessible, yet doing something that managed to be just shy of amazing despite the involvement of costumes. I'm not sure if Cindy remembers, but it was the night we went to meet Terry at le Chain Drive and check out the DJ booth before we started our residency. At the time, Cry Blood Apache were lauded long and hard by Voxtrot's Ramesh Srivastava, and they delivered on every superlative. It seems they've settled into a more mainstream post-punk groove with the new release, but we expect that the live experience is still pretty raw.

Cry Blood Apache -- The Northern Travelers

For a taste of the spectacle, here's some footage from a warehouse show at SXSW 2007:

Thus concludes today's note from Pinkie. At some point she promises not to talk about bands from Texas, dead projects that haven't had a release in 20 years, fantasies about the Pyramid Club in 1982, Modernism in the Weimar Republic, or the infamous October 1988 issue of Seventeen.

...

Blessedly, this week is pretty low-key, and hopefully, I can shake this terrible disease I've caught. Wish me luck. However, later this week, we promise to take you through our slush pile, for a new feature known as "You sent it to us, it's your own damn fault."

This post is respectfully dedicated to The Guy From The Middle of the Block who hollered after me Saturday night as we walked down the street, "Damn, I wish I was your daddy." Thank you kindly, but I'm not havin' it.

2008-02-01T14:36:00.000-05:00

It's Friday in New York City, and last we checked, probably in the rest of the world too. And it should be snowing today, but it's not. Instead it's icky and rainy and pretty well meets the description of the kind of day that Cindy thinks is awesome for Bon Iver. Except, being Friday, more upbeat entertainment is required.

You see, Echo and the Bunnymen are Cindy's problem. I have two problems. The first is Nick Cave, in most iterations, but preferably on the 50/50 holler and croon. The second is the Judy's, the Best Ever New Wave Band Out of Pearland. Once, a long time ago in a galaxy far far away (AKA depravedfangirls.org) I wrote a pretty fawning paragraph or two about Washarama. I also gifted a rockstar who will remain unnamed with a shiny CD copy because I thought he was special (in the head). I think I tried to intellectualize my interest in the Judy's by making some inferences about their continued value to the longevity of self-produced and self-released Texas indie rock and their status as founders of a certain variety of psycho surf new wave or some other kind of self-aggrandizing and academic-minded bullshit like that that I didn't really believe. I just wanted to sound cool; still, I can wax academic ad nauseum. This is all my women's studies degree is good for. Down with semiotics; the Judy's were fucking awesome. And I don't even know why, except that they were. I think the Judy's are what happens when you're three teenagers from the Texas coastal flats and you feel the need to rock. Or wait...you could also become Calla. But I guess there was less time to be jaded and affected in 1978, which was when Teenage Hangups was "released" to the delight of all at Pearland High. I'm sure it was completely rad, but my mental image is of David Bean sitting alone at a cafetorium table with his box of 7"s flanked by brownies and snickerdoodles belonging to the math club bakesale for which he was also managing the cash box. I so enjoy scripts! Me? I was 3 years old. Fast forward ten years to the summer of 1988 when my friend Denise and I had stupid new wave hair and were all about the Mixtape. Her sister's crummy C90s were the best. Enter Heaven 17, Soft Cell, deep catalog Depeche Mode, Danielle Dax, and the Judy's.

A vinyl pressing of Moo (1985) is one of the holy grails of Texas music. A certain ilk of independent record store is always likely to get their hands on a used copy of Washarama (1981), but somehow Moo, pasteurized and "fortified with vitamins," manages to evade captivity. I myself have seen it only once, high on the consignment wall of the late and lamented Austin location of SoundExchange Records. (Take that Baja Fresh and gentrification of the Drag! But does preferring my Guadalupe without the side of gutter punk mean that I'm part of the problem? I remember when I was 19 and still in school waiting on a light on the corner.) I vividly remember the $90 pricetag. In those days of pristine credit, anything beyond the requisite $22 import was an impossibility. Arguably, $22 should still be my limit on everything. Even though Washarama was home of "Guyana Punch" which hit Texas like Buddy Holly fronting Sparks, Moo was where the rest of the magic happened: ghosts in bikinis doing creepy watoosi, Wilma's g-string, femicidal narratives, gender reassignment, and "Teenage Millionaire," the ultimate ode to the Steff archetype, a year before James Spader put us in a preteen swoon.

At any rate, and at long last the Judy's have reissued everything. Teenage Hangups, The Wonderful World of Appliances, Washarama, Moo, David Bean's Modo Music, the Big Boys' first record, tee-shirts, vintage buttons (extant from 1981). Everything is available...except for Girl of 1000 Smells, which sold out in like 2.5 seconds. CD and vinyl. You bet I was all over that, mainly for Moo and ...Appliances, and collected in full just before Christmas, much to the "huh, what?" of friends who I texted with the news. Also, there's an awesometacular documentary at YouTube, and some kind soul took it upon himself to upload actual video from the 1981 Washarama release party at Houston's Agora Ballroom, which eliminates our need to bring you mp3s, which will probably make Jeff Walton, former Judy, very happy. Watch the videos here. Order your records directly from Wasted Talent.

The Judy's -- Guyana Punch (from Washarama)

The Judy's -- Underwater Fun (from The Wonderful World of Appliances)

2008-02-01T00:49:00.000-05:00

Is this thing on or what?!?!? Hello! OMG, we're back. I kind of swore up and down (and UP AND DOWN) for months that I wouldn't wouldn't wouldn't resuscitate this project, yet here we are.

We have some catching up to do, but I think that would just be boring, really. I mean, did anything good come out in the last 6 months? Oh, I'm kidding, I'm sure something did. You should tell us what you're hot for, yeah?

First off, look! We actually rated a voice in the Idolator poll this year (ok, I filled out the ballot, but Pinkie helped!) -- I couldn't have been more thrilled. And, it's 2007 in a nutshell, more or less -- can we reiterate how much we love James Murphy AND T-Pain? The only thing that would be better is if they would actually work together. Ha!

In the meantime, I have to admit I got the itch to write about thrilling new music again after seeing blogger favorite Bon Iver open for Elvis Perkins back in early December. Initially, I'd avoided Bon Iver like the plague -- nothing like the deafening clamor of CMJ buzz to kill any nascent interest one might have in a band. However, once I actually stopped to listen (ok, ok -- yeah, it was the press release from Jagjaguwar that finally hooked me, I'll confess), I was floored.

And the live experience of one-man band of Justin Vernon, hunting cabin popster? It's is a joy to behold and hear -- he's got an arsenal of pretty instruments and looping processors and a pretty voice to go with. On record, his vocals are haunting, distant -- but in person it's clear that Mr. Vernon is the bizarre musical offspring of Joni Mitchell and Joe Cocker, with a liberal dash of Warren Defever and greasy side order of Benjamin Smoke. The set left me giddy and weak in the knees, though I wasn't quite as tongue-tied as the idiot blogger who declared to Mr. Vernon that For Emma, Forever Ago was "Easily in my top six records of the year!" (People: NOT TOP TEN. OR TOP FIVE. TOP SIX. Really, now!) No, let's instead say that Mr. Vernon has made one of the best records of the new year -- it's getting a splashy re-release in February on Jagjaguwar -- really, we can't express how strongly we believe that it's totally worth your time to spend a watery, grey winter afternoon with this one.

His Name is Alive -- No Hiding Place Down Her
The Opal Fox Quartet -- Frail Body
Bon Iver -- Skinny Love
Bon Iver -- Lump Sum

So, after spending November recovering from our non-bloody appearance at the Bellmer Dolls' video shoot (more on that when they actually release it to the public), a December full of travel (don't ask how I ended in Orlando for 3 hours, I just did!) and a January full of work (I edited over 1,000 pages for three books and Pinkie saved the world approx. 16 times), we're busting full-on into 2008 a month late with activity levels not witnessed in ages and ages.

We sadly skipped Blacklist opening for The Teenagers and the inaugural date of Andi & Jen's new monthly Corduroy Pop Dance Party at Cake Shop, to catch Joanna Newsom & band with the Brooklyn Philharmonic at the BAM. Now, since Pinkie'd had such a great time seeing Antony (and assorted Johnsons) perform with the BP last year, I was expecting something transcendent -- but instead just came away with a really, really bad taste in my mouth. Newsom & Co. were dazzling; but the orchestra was limp, faint and practically toneless. And the oboeist's contempt for the proceedings was unprofessional and distracting, as she sat moping, chin in hand, turned off by either Newsom's performance or Van Dyke Parks' oboe-less orchestrations -- or both. The best part was when she matter-of-factly tooted her few notes, packed up her instrument and closed her score in the middle of a song. Note to orchestra: when you're on a stage, we can see you. That being said, big ups to the trumpet player for totally rocking out. Dude, you rule. Thank goodness that torture only lasted a few songs; the general climate of the performance improved greatly after the orchestra vacated the stage and Ms. Newsom donned a too-short hot pink velvet dress.

As for the rest of the weekend? Well, we'll have to miss Ola Podrida at Union Hall because we simply must catch our favorite tailor, moonlighting Bellmer Doll and all-around righteous dude Anthony S. Malat's shows with pals Tex Napalm and Dimi Dero at Glasslands on Saturday. Also on the bill, Five Dollar Priest, Jerry Teel & the Big City Stompers, WOMAN, and the ubiquitous Jim Sclavunos on selector duties (pick a link...we can't decide on one). The party continues Sunday night at The Annex on the early side (7:30!) with a slightly different bill (Mark Steiner and the NYC Pikers, Napalm/Dero/Malat, Jerry Teel & the Big City Stompers, WOMAN) -- happy birthday, Ryan!

So, we're back. We're planning some regular features and lots of fun things in the next few months, but we'll sign off for now and respectfully dedicate this entry to the Bad Taste Bear crossing Fulton this evening, headphones leaking Gwen Stefani's "Hollaback Girl." Sir, this one's for you.

2007-09-17T13:49:00.000-04:00

Small message.

Just brilliant! Isn't it? Go Bruce.

I've also hosted Blog Fresh Radio for the last two weeks. If you're dying to hear my voice, well ... you can! Like Spoon's Britt Daniel, I have a pretty chronic case of post-nasal drip. This week's episode should be up later today; check the site now, or the archives later for the my debut appearance on September 10.

2007-08-30T00:08:00.001-04:00

Well, hello -- its been too long! Thanks to Idolator for linking to us today, btw!

This is a brief message to let know that after nearly two years in operation, we're moving on. No whining and crying about how we're just not that into this project anymore -- the truth of the matter is that things are a lot different for both of us lately. NYC has offered us a lot more opportunities, professionally and socially, than we ever could have imagined back in Austin, and some of our priorities have changed recently. (Plus -- well, if you haven't noticed, the blog world's beyond oversaturated these days.)

But don't fret -- I've got another blog project in the works (NO REALLY, I'll post here when it's up and running for all you loyal feed readers...), I'm working on a music-related book project (er, looking for an agent, drop a line if you can be of assistance!), and we are hard at work on the upcoming launch of our line of custom knitwear for discerning gentlemen at Kindling & Tinder -- in addition to saving the world daily at our day jobs! (No really. Seriously. That's what Pinkie does!)

Thank you for reading. (Oh, and we're still available for DJ gigs, btw!)

Thanks to all the bands for all the great music; we're still listening.

And, in true Rich Girls fashion, we leave you with a charming useless factoid -- we noticed tonight whilst surfing the music video channels that the video for Billy Joel's "A Matter of Trust" was filmed on St. Mark's Place, probably at No. 31, now the home of St. Mark's Deli Grocery. Watch for the awning of the now-closed-by-the-health-department cheap Japanese joint Dojo, if you don't believe us!

2007-07-26T00:15:00.000-04:00

Oh shut up and drive already... So, it's been a while since we sat around the Castle and watched music videos; we've been busy at work and not in the mood to go to shows, so that's what we did this evening, after stopping at the grocery store after work and ooohing and ahhhing over my new box of records shipped direct from End of An Ear in Austin.

When Rihanna's "Shut Up and Drive" came on, Pinkie unceremoniously sneered, "This is a Republica song. A Republica song I don't even like." She paused. "Wait. That implies there's a Republica song I do like -- which, is not in fact true. I was listening to real dance music. Republica is the crystallization of all bad dance music."

Which naturally, prompted me to jump up and bounce around like Republica's hyperactive frontwoman Saffron, screeching "I'm back and ready to goooooooooho! From the rooftops, shout it out, shout it out!" (As previously discussed, dear readers, you know that I know at least the chorus to every terrible pop song ever written.)

Pinkie just looked pained.

"And, well, apparently Melody Maker coined the terrible horrible loathsome term "elecronica" to describe their music." I pointed out, after settling back on the sofa, post-dance break. "Thanks, Wikipedia."

"What about the New Electronica label?" she asked, incredulous.

"Oh, you would bring that up! I have no idea...!"

After some frustrated Googling, I discovered that the first New Electronica release came out in 1993; a full year before that alleged Melody Maker piece. Experimental music wins! Again. Yes, kids -- occasionally, the Wikipedia is totally wrong... Perhaps, more accurately, it was when the term was pulled up into the mainstream, which seems more likely.

[aside: david toop + robert christgau = awesome. we luv ocean of sound.]

But, anyway, back to Rihanna: there's echoes of the good in "Shut Up and Drive" too -- we're pretty sure there's more than a hint of Prince's "Little Red Corvette." You know. Because um, these are not songs about cars. Duh.

Just for kicks and giggles, I thought about posting Njoi's RAVE ANTHEM (tm) uh, "Anthem," featuring vocals from the lovely Saffron, but I realized that we really don't need to relive the Manchester warehouse scene ca. 1991. Or the 2006 remixes either. Srsly. You're welcome.

**

A few other items:

The always awesome Bellmer Dolls are opening for Grinderman in San Francisco (they're thankfully playing a few dates sans The White Stripes, but sadly, not here); that show's sold out, but Our Darling Dolls are playing Saturday night, too, at the ethereally lovely Rykarda Parasol's The Hive Art Space. If you go, do please tell them the Rich Girls sent you.

The Bellmer Dolls -- Push! Push!

Upcoming NYC shows of note: ...Trail of Dead & the amazing Shock Cinema @ Luna Lounge, August 2; The Holy Kiss @ Cake Shop, August 3 (They're also playing Midway on Ave. B on the 2nd).

...The big question remains, though -- To Suicide or not tonight at South Street Seaport? Generally, I loathe reunited bands, but this might be worth making an exception for.

**

Didn't you totally DEMAND these for your hot weekend doings? I thought I heard you asking...?

Interpol -- The Heinrich Maneuver (Paul Epworth Phones Remix) [OMG, we can dance to it now -- thanks Epworth!] [myspace] [remixer]

Cold War Kids -- Hang Me Up To Dry (Ingo Star Cruiser Remix) [Golly! Love those handclaps! I know it's deeply uncool to like this band, but I still think this song is great.] [myspace] [remixer]

Sly Hats -- Someone To Dress Up For [if you missed the Sly Hats show in Brooklyn last night, they'll be back at Union Hall on the 30th; the soft-spoken Aussie darling is currently touring the eastern seaboard, check myspace for info]

Let's Wrestle! -- Song For Abba Tribute Band [I'm slated to appear on next week's episode of Blog Fresh Radio (Monday), wherein I pontificate ineloquently on the greatness of this song] [myspace]

2007-07-20T00:49:00.001-04:00

(photo by Scott Irvine)

I sat down with Calla in Greenpoint Wednesday afternoon at the cavernous (but blessedly cool) Coco66, after their last rehearsal before heading out for a few weeks on the road with Interpol. I was a little late due to some train delays -- but as a result, I got to watch bassist Pete Gannon handily beat soft-spoken frontman Aurelio Valle in a short rack of pool while Austin-based drummer Wayne MacGruder filled me in on all the latest news from my old hometown. (Pete and Aurelio are fellow Texas-to-Brooklyn expats, too, which always makes conversation a little easier!)

When we eventually sat down with my digital recorder, our conversation was practically drowned out in the big echo-filled room by a chatty multi-racial and multi-generational neighborhood pool league, so my plans to post an audio interview clip are kind of bunk. However, we had a lovely chat -- and discussed everything from plans for the sixth Calla record (about which the official word seems to be: if it happens, it happens), film editing, and the benefits of touring with their old friends Interpol.

"Touring can be really grueling -- so touring with friends, with people you've known a long time, makes it better, " Aurelio said with a smile. "The more, the merrier."

"It's nice, too, because the pressure's off us, even though we're playing bigger venues. We can just come and the play music, which is ideal," Pete added. "Even if only 10% of the crowd is listening."

He also pointed out that in light of Interpol's new, broader sound on Our Love To Admire, the two bands are a good match sonically on this tour, much in the same way the sharp, angular songs they both were making a few years back complimented each other well on their previous tour together, back in 2003. And it doesn't hurt that both bands manage to simultaneously exude a cool professionalism, functioning like well-timed machines, and a restrained passion -- two factors that are sometimes a turn-off for the rough and tumble indie rockers who prefer a little more 'authenticity' in a performance.

Calla's latest, Strength In Numbers (released in February of this year), is an unpretentious and carefully-crafted document of the band's evolution over the past few years. They formed out of the remains of Denton, TX-based experimental project the Factory Press, moved to Brooklyn (and successively larger labels as well, ending up at their current home, Beggar's Banquet, in 2003). Over the years, Calla has built a steadfast following with fans who like their rock on the epic side: hushed, darkly-tinged vocals winding through labyrinthine lyrics, propulsive rhythm sections and textured guitar bits. Strength In Numbers melds the band's trademark soundscapes with more traditional rock tropes, a move Aurelio said was definitely a conscious decision on their part when they recorded the album almost a year ago after a madcap summer playing the big European summer festivals. (Including one in Portugal where Calla played for a crowd of over 10,000 -- which they admitted was a little weird after playing the mid-sized rooms of the American indie rock circuit. "You get used to it, though," Pete interjected. "Once you realize how far they all are from the stage.")

Calla's late summer jaunt kicked off last night in Rochester, NY and they play Atlantic City tonight; that show is sold out, as are many Calla plays a few dates sans the 'pol along the route -- check their site for details. If you noticed that there's a distinct lack of NYC dates -- don't fret -- they will return to Brooklyn August 11 at Studio B with Castanets and Other Passengers.

Calla -- Bronson
Calla -- Sanctify

**

Last Thursday, we battled a soggy evening to take in what must have been one of the most fun shows of the year to date: Mark Ronson's first stateside gig with his touring band. Though the esteemed Ms. Amy Winehouse wasn't in attendance, more than a few of the other great contributors to his sophomore album, Version, were. Ronson and his "incredible fucking band" were joined by a genre-hopping array of guests, including charismatic rapper Wale, the perpetually perky Santogold (who opened with a great live dancehall set), the smooth-voiced (and very handsome) Kenna, the golden-throated (and totally adorable) Daniel Merriweather, and doofy Phantom Planet frontman Alex Greenwald, who was a dead-ringer for Damon Albarn, ca. 1992 -- down to the day-glo green whistle around his neck. The real highlight of the evening came from the latter -- a semi-impromptu version of "California" that inspired a number of audience members to gleefully hoist their lighters in the air, to the delight of Messrs. Ronson and Greenwald.

I admit, we weren't quite sure what to expect going into this gig, and to say that it totally blew our minds as we danced and danced and danced our asses off down on the floor, is a complete understatement. By the end of the night, we were exhausted and sweaty and happy -- but we couldn't help by make a few less-than-charitable comments amongst ourselves about the stodgier audience members who bolted when it became clear that Ronson's hip hop numbers were going to fill the first half of the set, or those in the balcony who were clearly confused when confronted with the vibrant and joyful reality of Ronson's perfect retro hi-fi production in the flesh.

Mark Ronson with Amy Winehouse -- Valerie

**

Friday night in NYC offers two great free events: Neko Case and Eric Bachmann (late of Archers of Loaf) play the Central Park SummerStage series and our neighbors down the next subway stop, The Dirty Projectors, bring their rendition of Black Flag's Damaged uptown to the Whitney Museum. Get there early if you're planning to attend either event!

The Dirty Projectors -- No More

Other highlights of the evening include the return of mashup dance party Bootie -- this time the SF crew is taking over Luke and Leroy; frisky San Franciscan the Baron Von Luxxury plays a live set Saturday at Union Hall's Siren Fest Afterparty with Scissors for Lefty and Sad Tropics.

**

Our final word is on the Shearwater appearance two weeks back -- rained out of Castle Clinton, the show went on at Pace University downtown, in the same theater where "Inside the Actor's Studio" is filmed. This of course led to the inevitable James Lipton jokes; lead singer/banjo player/pianist Jonathan Meiburg asked drummer and multi-percussionist Thor Harris (in somber Lipton tones): "What's your favorite curse word?" but then retracted the request when he remembered that his parents were in the audience.

It was a special treat to see one of our favorite bands in such a lovely space -- the PA was clean, the grand piano was perfectly tuned, and the crowd all attentive and appreciative. Yes, we often find ourselves crammed into tight crowds of dancing hipsters, but sometimes it's truly lovely to spend the evening seated, listening to lovely music made by dear, dear friends. Shearwater's done touring for the summer, but they are heading back into the studio to begin recording their follow-up to 2006-7's acclaimed Palo Santo. As a matter of fact, we were treated to three new songs in the set, all of which are shaping up very nicely indeed.

Shearwater -- Red Sea, Black Sea

**

IN HIGH DEMAND, FOR YOUR WEEKEND DOINGS, an array of remixes & covers:

Bang Gang -- It's Alright (62 French Girls Can't Be Wrong remix) [myspace] [remixer]

Roisin Murphy -- Overpowered (Kris Menace remix) [myspace] [remixer]

Sarah Nixey -- The Black Hit Of Space (The Magus Projection) [myspace] [remixer]

Turbo Crystal -- French Girl (Escort remix) [myspace] [remixers]

Yazoo (Yaz) -- Don't Go (Bailey and Rossko remix) [remixers]

Shout Out Louds -- Tonight I Have To Leave It (Kleerup Remix) [myspace] [remixer]

Rihanna -- Umbrella (Vandalism remix) [myspace] [remixer]

Jeremy Warmsley -- Girl Inform Me (Shins cover) [myspace]

Jellybean! -- Ignition (Remix) (R. Kelly cover) [myspace]

2007-07-11T00:54:00.000-04:00

(photo by Sean McCabe)

Dear, dear persistent Google searchers, I'm here to help you -- it's Mates of State in that AT&T Wireless commercial (it's not for Verizon -- though I'm sure AT&T's ad agency might be interested to hear about the brand confusion).

The featured song is "For The Actor" off their latest on Barsuk, Bring It Back.

Bonus, an old fave: Mates of State -- Ha Ha 0ff Team Boo (Polyvinyl)

2007-07-10T13:09:00.000-04:00

Thanks to d. & Jeff, all the bands, and the staff of Union Hall -- the Neon Lights show Saturday was a great time, and we look forward to entertaining you with our weird records again sometime. (We've shared some of the good bits below, but some things we only have on vinyl...)

Neon Lights @ Union Hall 7/7/07

Teresa Stratas -- Yukali // Marlene Dietrich -- Laziest Gal in Town // Edith Piaf -- Milord // Goldfrapp -- Boys Will Be Boys // Sparks -- Ladies // Sparks -- Moustache // Depeche Mode -- Flexible // Siouxsie and the Banshees -- Burn Up

Japan -- Life in Tokyo // Interpol -- The Heinrich Maneuver // Sheila E. -- Glamorous Life // Duran Duran -- Fame // David Bowie -- Let's Dance // Wire -- The Queen of Um and The King of Ur

10,000 Maniacs -- Scorpio Rising // Brian Eno -- King's Lead Hat // Berlin -- No More Words // Kid Creole -- Annie I'm Not Your Daddy // James White and the Blacks -- Contort Yourself // Liquid Liquid -- Optimo // LCD Soundsystem -- Jump Into the Fire // Celebration -- War

The Rubettes -- Sugar Baby Love // Mark Ronson and Amy Winehouse -- Valerie // Supremes -- Back In My Arms Again // Chi-Lites -- Are You My Woman? (Tell Me So) // Chiffons -- One Fine Day // Bette Midler -- Chapel of Love // Laura Nyro and Labelle -- Jimmy Mack // Camera Obscura -- If Looks Could Kill // Sandie Shaw -- Jeane // Voxtrot -- Stephen //Orange Juice -- Rip It Up (The Intermediate Mix)

Li'l Mama - Lipgloss // Echo and the Bunnymen -- Bedbugs and Ballyhoo // The Last Night -- Some Sensation // Spoon - The Underdog // Wire -- Serious of Snakes // Ultravox -- Dancing (With Tears In My Eyes) // Sparks -- Angst In My Pants // Cocteau Twins -- Donimo

**

Meanwhile, we hear those Interpol guys and some band called ... Spoon, I think, have records out today? (Haha.) Seriously, we'll have reviews up ~~tonight~~ later this week. That being said, we won't be at the free Spoon show at Battery Park on Wednesday (wotcha -- it'll be at Stuyvesant High in case of rain!), nor at the Interpol cd release "party" at Sweet and Vicious either. No, gentle readers, we will be at the very sold-out Mark Ronson show at the Highline Ballroom. His new album Version, full of great guest appearances (Amy Winehouse! Lily Allen! Robbie Williams! Kenna! That guy from Maximo Park!), is out today too.

~~Stream: Interpol, Our Love to Admire~~
Stream: Spoon, Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga
Stream: Mark Ronson: Version

**

I keep forgetting to post about this; now's a good a time as any! The Speigeltent is back for the summer in NYC, and there's a few shows that we're really excited about -- including the Shout Out Louds, Ute Lemper (!!!!), and Weimar New York -- I'm sure none of these selections surprises our regular readers. The rest of the schedule sounds great (except, maybe, the aberrance of our very least favorite band in NYC, O'Death) -- Lady Sov's come and gone, but the Spiegeltent will be around thru August.

~~7/07: Lady Sovereign~~
7/16: Shout Out Louds
7/17: Weimar NY: The Spiegel Sessions
7/19: Shout Out Louds
7/24: DeVotchKa
7/25: DeVotchKa
7/31: Ute Lemper: ‘Voyages’
8/07: Lila Downs
8/08: Lila Downs
8/13: Badly Drawn Boy
8/14: Badly Drawn Boy
8/21: José González
8/28: Weimar NY: The Spiegel Sessions
8/26: O’Death
9/05: An Albatross
9/11: Penny Arcade’s “Bitch! Dyke! Faghag! Whore!”
9/18: Weimar NY: The Spiegel Sessions
9/22: Dan Zanes and Friends: Sea Music!

2007-07-05T01:55:00.000-04:00

(photo courtesy of ... Kathryn Yu. Oh, you knew that!)

Hey, you probably heard this already, but the Shearwater show that was supposed to be at Castle Clinton tonight has been relocated due to inclement weather.

The official word is as follows:

Due to the threat of inclement weather, tonight's Music at Castle Clinton show featuring Shearwater has been moved indoors to The Michael Schimmel Center for the Arts at Pace University, Spruce Street entrance.

The event will start at its regularly scheduled time of 7PM, but due to indoor capacity restrictions, tickets are limited and will be distributed on a first come-first served bases starting at 5PM at the Schimmel Theater Box Office. Doors open at 6PM.

We deeply regret that mother nature has forced us indoors, but we are thrilled to tell you that the show will go on!

As always, for a complete and last-minute updates on all things River to River, make sure you check out www.RiverToRiverNYC.com.

So, see you there, then? Right.

**

Speaking of upcoming gigs, we would be remiss if we didn't remind you about our dj appearance this Saturday @ Union Hall as part of Neon Lights' semi-Austintastic bill featuring Ola Podrida, Via Audio, Tacks, the Boy Disaster, and Botany Bay. There's advance tickets, even. And, uh, we got some new Japan and Sparks records just for the occasion (well, new to us anyway -- thanks, Cake Shop!). But requests have already been logged for "Lipgloss," so... it will be an interesting time, as always! (I designed that poster, btw. I'm so available for hire if you need a pretty event flyer!)

**

IN HIGH DEMAND TODAY:

Interpol -- Mammoth (Instrumental). Needless to say, this is for all my masher-uppers out there. Make us something beautiful? Dig the chiming Television-esque guitars (also: spot the Santana!) and the hot disco octaves (boing-boing-boing!) -- and just enjoy the depth of the mix. (Oh, and the bells!) See, we told you it sounded great... Oh, btw -- you didn't get this from us. Right? Right. (site)

Tomoyasu Hotei -- BATTLE WITHOUT HONOR OR HUMANITY (MTV Unplugged version). Better known as that freakin' kickass theme from Kill Bill. I love this track wholly and unapologetically -- Tomoyasu Hotei is a genius. I would like this to be playing as I walk to work everyday, dodging the dogs of Chelsea and the weird homeless dudes and the workmen precariously balanced on scaffoldings above me. It's a battle, I tell ya. (site)

Seelenluft -- Horse With No Name (DJ Hell Remix). This is a first -- an indirect request. I found this the other day and really dug it, and then on routine analysis of our Google stats, I discovered someone looking for it that ended up here. So, anonymous Googler, this one's for you. (I do my best to help you kids out, I do. Don't ever say I didn't do anything for you.) This is a nice rework of the America original into a chilly, pingy dancefloor anthem -- watch out for that breakdown with strings. Relatedly, I stand continually in awe of the current crop of Eurodancekids' obsession with the best and worst of American popular music. It's like, there's no prejudgment -- just a need for the following critera: big, earwormy hooks and ridiculous lyrics. BINGO -- "Horse With No Name." (site) (remixer)

Tilly and the Wall -- Sing Songs Along (Hot Chip Remix). Tilly and the Wall are awesome. Mock me if you must -- but the unmitigated joy pleases me to no end. And who better to give a squelchy, punchy remix treatment to this clackety hymn of joy -- 0ne of my faves from their 2005 winner Bottoms of Barrels? Hot Chip, of course. Oh, hey, can you wake me up when people stop knocking off Animal Collective and start ripping off Tilly and the Wall instead? OKTHX. (site) (remixer)

The Whip -- Dive Bomb (Crystal Castles Remix). In a perfect world, freestyle and hi-nrg and classic Moroder-y Italodisco NEVER EVER EVER EVER EVER went out of style. And in this perfect world, tracks like this remix are SUPERHITS adored by everyone. (MySpace) (remixer)

The Black Ghosts -- Some Way Through This (Plastician & Skream Remix). I think this is one of the best tracks I've heard in months. No lie. I don't even know how to describe it -- goth R&B, maybe? Time to invent a new vernacular for hip-hop beats + heavy and dank blue-eyed soul. (MySpace) (remixer)

2007-06-29T18:26:00.000-04:00

It sucks being sick in the summer, especially the week before a holiday.

Your in-demand tracks for the weekend, though, are here. Some old, some new. You ready? Ok, go!

Deelite -- Grooves In The Heart (Electro Mix) (track name listed as given!) [youtube]

The Gossip -- Listen Up (Black Ghost Remix) [site] [remixers]

Cut Copy -- Hearts on Fire (Joakim Remix) [band blog] [remixers]

Amy Winehouse -- Tears Dry On Their Own (NYPC's Fucked Mix) [myspace] [nypc!]

Justice -- D.A.N.C.E. (Eli & Diplo Remix) [myspace] [eli's blog]

The Tough Alliance -- Neo Violence (Stevie Tech Nicks Fire Mix) [myspace] [remixer]

Now, go dance!

xo
cindy & pinkie (& the roseate spoonbill)

2007-06-26T23:12:00.000-04:00

So we didn't get down to J&R Computer/Music World on Park Row (place of all things wonderful that plug into an outlet, where I bought my computer and my window unit...) this afternoon to have our Dylanesque CDs (yeah, yeah, we know the cover's super ugly) signed by Bryan Ferry himself. Instead, I had to interview potential assistants -- one of whom came in dressed in all in black with pinstripes and a vest (yes, in this heat!); if only his samples had been as impressive as his attire. Anyway, I totally wanted a fangirl picture with Mr. Ferry (probably the only one I'd ever stand for!), but I would have been too hot and sweaty -- the weather has finally turned muggy -- and I would have wanted to look more, well, pulled together, so maybe the fact that we missed the big event was for the best.

Still, we caught him, accidentally, really, on Letterman last night, doing his cover of Dylan's "Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues" -- all uh, Roxy-fied. Check the castanets and the harmonica!

**

Dang it! When we heard E. Elias Merhige (Shadow of the Vampire, a few Marilyn Manson videos) was directing the video for Interpol's first single, "The Heinrich Maneuver" we thought, "Woo! Paul Banks dressed as Nosferatu? Carlos D. in a cassock for the first time this century?" Instead, this right here is some fucked up, bitter shit. Well, come on, now -- were you expecting something soft and foofy?

(in the event this is taken down from YouTube, the 'official' premiere is on the MTV site)

**

Call and response: Fluxblog 6/22/07

We were kind of busy doing other stuff on Friday and didn't get to our usual trawl of daily reads, which means we totally missed the kerfuffle over The National (via Pageblank) and the posting of former Sugababe Siobhan Donaghy's "Ghosts."

The Amazon.co.uk reviews of her album of the same name are a near-riot of people up in arms over the fact that she's "ripping off" an array of sources from Kate Bush to the Cocteau Twins to Tori Amos. Upon further listening, we agreed, to a point. Ms. Donaghy's definitely influenced by Liz Fraser's vocal stylings -- but not from her time with the Cocteau Twins that spanned a good part of the 80's into the early 90's; instead, she's clearly more influenced by Fraser's mid-90's guest turns with Future Sound of London and Massive Attack. Indeed, one song in particular on Ghosts, "Halcyon Days" samples Massive Attack's "Teardrop," better known in this day and age as the theme to "House, MD."

Cocteau Twins -- Carolyn's Fingers
from Blue Bell Knoll

Kate Bush -- Heads We're Dancing
from The Sensual World

The Future Sound of London (feat. Elizabeth Fraser) -- Lifeforms
from Lifeforms

Massive Attack (feat. Elizabeth Fraser) -- Teardrop
from Mezzanine

Tori Amos -- Caught A Lite Sneeze
from Boys for Pele

**

Did we mention it's hot here? Well, the Bermuda High finally broke and it's raining now, but ... we were inspired to make one concession to all this "Summmer of Love" 40th anniversary hoo-ha with the following video:

Big Brother & the Holding Company -- Summertime.

2007-06-22T12:00:00.000-04:00

Variation Three of A Prelude to Interpol's Our Love To Admire: Waving, Not Drowning (the final installment, see Tuesday's post for the (cranky) introduction).

[There's a poem, by Stevie Smith, about a man, far from shore -- the spectators on the beach think he's waving, when he is in fact drowning: 'I was much too far out all my life/And not waving but drowning.' What's presented here means to convey the inverse of that melancholy statement. ]

Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds -- (I'll Love You) Till The End Of The World
from The Soundtrack to Until The End Of The World

Hank Williams Sr. -- They'll Never Take Her Love From Me
from American Legends: Best Of The Early Years

Calexico -- The Black Light
from The Black Light

Johnny Cash -- Cry, Cry, Cry
from American Music Legends: Johnny Cash

The Beach Boys -- Sloop John B
from Pet Sounds

Sarah Vaughan -- What'll I Do
from Benny Carter Sessions: The Lonely Hours

Laura Nyro -- New York Tendaberry
from New York Tendaberry

Sugar -- A Good Idea
from Copper Blue

Cursive -- The Night I Lost The Will To Fight
from Domestica

New Order -- Regret
from Republic

The Hope Blister -- Hanky panky nohow
from Smile's Ok

Big Star -- Nighttime
from Sister Lovers/The Third Album

This Mortal Coil -- I Am The Cosmos
from Blood

Roxy Music -- Avalon
from Avalon

[Public Service Announcement: Hey, New York area readers! I know a lot of you are in bands -- our lovely pals The Bellmer Dolls need to go pick up a new board for their studio and their transport plans just fell through this morning. The catch is, it's out in Iowa! Have a van you're not using right now and would like to hire out for a side trip in return for some quality studio time? (Secret Machines used the Dolls' facility to record and mix their latest effort.) It'll be your good deed for the ~~day~~ ~~week~~ ~~month~~ year! Drop them a line (bellmerdolls AT yahoo DOT com) if you can be of assistance. Thank you!!!]

2007-06-21T11:21:00.000-04:00

Variation Two of A Prelude to Interpol's Our Love To Admire: No Trendy Réchauffé (see yesterday's post for the (cranky) introduction).

[ré·chauf·fé -- n. 1. Warmed leftover food; 2.Old material reworked or rehashed. [French, past participle of réchauffer, to reheat, warm over, from Old French rechaufer : re-, re- + echaufer, to warm (from Vulgar Latin *excalefāre : Latin ex-, intensive pref.; see ex- + Latin calefacere, to warm; see chafe).]

The Velvet Underground -- Venus in Furs
from The Velvet Underground and Nico
The Velvets set the aesthetic imperative.

Robert Johnson -- Hellhound On My Tail
from Cross Road Blues
After you've sold your soul, all you can sing is the blues.

The Vaselines -- Jesus Wants Me For a Sunbeam
from The Way Of The Vaselines - A Complete History
Then again, you can't miss what you never had -- right?

Nina Simone -- Tell Me More And Then Some
from After Hours
You spin such pretty stories that all end up as lies.

Depeche Mode -- The Things You Said
from Music for the Masses
And yet I always believe every word you say.

Windsor For The Derby - The Melody Of A Fallen Tree
from We Fight Till Death
Rhetorical question: If a tree falls in a forest and no one... Oh, never mind.

Mission of Burma -- All World Cowboy Romance
From Signals, Calls & Marches
Sometimes I think we might have a chance.

The Smiths -- That Joke Isn't Funny Anymore
from Meat is Murder
And yet, "I've seen this happen in other people's lives, now it's happening in mine."

Iggy Pop -- Nightclubbing
from The Idiot
And then he had the nerve to say: "Let me buy that for you ... I'm very rich."

Wolfgang Press -- Longtimes
from the Raintime EP
Redux: Everyone at this party has dead eyes. I want to go home.

The Libertines -- Can't Stand Me Now
from The Libertines
And I'll say it again...

Unitard -- Year To Be Hated
from Yes New York
...it's better when you're sleeping. Or just not here at all.

The National -- About Today
from Cherry Tree EP
But it would have made a difference if you'd just taken the time to ask.

Nick Drake -- Pink Moon
from Pink Moon
Care to take another drive?

The Church -- Under The Milky Way
from Starfish
We can take the good mix CDs.

David Bowie -- Strangers When We Meet
from The Buddha of Suburbia Soundtrack
And not talk for hours.

2007-06-20T13:32:00.000-04:00

Look, y'all -- We hate to quibble the point, but posting cruddy, "leaked" mp3s of Interpol's Our Love To Admire to raise your profile on The Hype Machine is really, really lame. So is posting track-by-track "reviews" based on the snippets from the website, hoping to imply that you're rad enough to have received a promo. I mean, it's people like you that make record labels paranoid about sending out promos in the first place. Seriously.

Furthermore, while I'm being crabby, you know we've flogged the "stop comparing Interpol to Joy Division" line long enough. Can we ban the use of that tired analogy in reviews of Our Love To Admire? Please?

Anyway, we can't post a review proper, as yet. You know. One of the conditions of getting to sit in a Capitol conference room guarded by junior staffers to have a listen on iPods and Bose headphones. (We don't mind, really -- more time to perfect it.)

So, we're killing two-point-five birds with one stone here. Quit listening to the grainy clips on your headphones and wait for the bona fide release; you need to listen to Our Love to Admire properly -- at home, on your stereo -- in the order intended. Trust us, it will be worth the wait.

And to further the joy of anticipation, we've prepared this little primer for you. We're running it over several days in three parts: Wait for the Elephants, No Trendy Réchauffé, and Not waving but drowning/Not drowning but waving. It's half a handbook to influences, half a little tour through our respective CD collections -- 'cause you know we didn't even get to the vinyl!

Variation One of A Prelude to Interpol's Our Love To Admire: Wait for the Elephants

[Deep, wide songs that threaten to swallow you whole somewhere in the middle -- when the elephants, dinosaurs and goblins come tromping through. NB: Please listen in order, would ya?]

David Lynch -- Battle and Aftermath
from Lux Vivens
Who better to set the mood of what lies beneath the glossy, perfect exterior?

The Hope Blister -- Spider and I
from .....smile's ok
Brian Eno and Ivo Watts-Russell set the aesthetic imperative.

...And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead -- Let It Dive
from Worlds Apart
Let's go for a long night drive. (Bring snacks -- preferably Twinkies.)

The Walkmen -- We've Been Had
from Everyone Who Pretended To Like Me Is Gone
First we need to pick up the stowaways. Is there room in the back seat? Just move the cooler.

Sinéad O'Connor -- Troy
from The Lion And The Cobra
Rhetorical question: Is there anything more loaded, metaphorically, than relating the Fall of Troy to the death of a relationship? Thanatos and eros, kiddies.

Siouxsie & The Banshees -- Party's Fall
from Tinderbox
Everyone at this party has dead eyes. I want to go home.

Echo & The Bunnymen -- The Cutter
from Porcupine
You can keep the party going, you just can't party here.

Placebo -- Pure Morning
from Without You I'm Nothing
"Day's dawning, skin's crawling..."

Television -- Marquee Moon
from Marquee Moon
I'm on the fire escape, having a smoke. Leave me alone, for fuck's sake.

Tanita Tikaram -- You Make The Whole World Cry
from Eleven Kinds Of Loneliness
I'm sorry too.

2007-06-19T18:39:00.000-04:00

Voxtrot
June 15, 2007
Webster Hall, 13th St., NYC.

(Clearly, we're as good as The New York Times -- if not better! Thanks for the exclusive images, Kathryn!)

What can we say? The Voxtrot show last Friday is a memory we'll cherish always.

Give Pinkie a moment, and she'll remind you that there was a time, very, very early in Voxtrot's history, that I wasn't exactly kind to them (a truism for which I've done my penance) and a time that she saw them play for maybe ten people at Habana Calle Six at SXSW 2005. She was one of the first (if not the first) people to write about Voxtrot on the interwebs -- but she's super-modest about that fact. Later, they were our best Valentine's date ever in 2006, and showed us a dang good time at the Mercury Lounge a few months later.

From our perch in VIP (yeah, yeah), we were positively moved to (very happy) tears at the sight of the kids -- about 1,500 of 'em -- dancing and singing along. The bouncing young man in the fedora and suspenders; the two drunk BFF, arms draped around each other blissfully singing along; the tiny little girl on the front row pumping her fist with the beat as if her life depended on it.

And the boys were dazzling. With the Tosca String Quartet (and vibraphone!) in tow, they glittered on the new songs and brought a patina of road-weary wisdom to old favorites. It was a glorious sight. Our favorite little Austin band is no longer just "local music for local people" -- they're a bona fide phenomenon. And Ramesh's songs just keep getting bigger, tighter, angrier -- as demonstrated by the anti-hits of Voxtrot -- yet each is practically overflowing with a pop sensibility you can't find anywhere else these days. (Except maybe in Spoon -- and Voxtrot are certainly the worthy heirs to Austin's elder statesmen of indie rock.)

(And I admit, I was totally chuffed by the shout-out, Jared -- even though I wasn't at that Magnetic Fields show -- Kathryn was! But I'll pretend, for you, that I was in attendance!)

(More pics at Kathryn Yu's Flickr.)

Voxtrot -- Firecracker

Also, four things to remember!

One: Luxxury plays at APT on Thursday!

repost: Luxxury -- Drunk (Lovesick Vocoders at Night remix)

Two: Brooklyn's best AM gold tunesmiths The Silent League (think Todd Rungren meets ELO meets mushy 80's Roxy Music, tied up with what made Beulah awesome -- swingin' horns!) play the Annex on Wednesday, before heading off for their festival stint in the UK.

The Silent League -- Breathe

Three: Minus Story's My Ion Truss is out today. Check out their amazing site with gobs of pictures and secret tracks galore. They're touring later this summer with Shearwater and Old Crane! They also have a tour blog!

Minus Story -- Stitch Me Up
Minus Story -- Joyless, Joyless

Four: Just so you know that we're not totally biased towards one party in the matters of bespoke suiting, check out the work of tailor-to-rockstars Craig Robinson in photos by Rudy Archuleta at The Gallery at the Soho Grand (310 W. Broadway), through August 31.

Devastatingly sexy: Mr. Robinson at Work. (directed by Robinson and Archuleta, edited by Aurelio Valle, music by The Secret Machines)

2007-06-15T01:51:00.000-04:00

(photo courtesy of kathryn yu, who is TOTES FAMOUS, yay!)

As noted elsewhere, it's a totally Austin-tastic weekend in NYC.

A quick reminder that darling Voxtrot plays the grand, mold-infested Webster Hall tonight (Friday) early with the assistance of the Tosca String Quartet -- doors are at 6, and they play at 9:15. It's the ADORABLE BOYS vs ADORABLE GIRLS bill -- similarly sweet Brooklynites Au Revoir Simone also play. (Here's hoping the uh, less adorable Favourite Sons' live set has improved (or something) since we saw them last on a bitter winter night earlier this year @ Joe's Pub. ) Anyway, look for the girls in pretty dresses glowing like proud indie rock den mothers -- that'll totally be us. (MySpace)

Voxtrot -- New Love

Elsewhere in the city, raucous geek popsters Peel are invading!!!! Our former favorite band to spot at the grocery store -- it's true, frontman Dakota Smith and I shopped for groceries at the same hours of the night, and we'd meet in frozen foods, or on the shampoo aisle -- is blazing through town, with stops at Matchless Friday (with That Charles Bissell Guy from That Wrens Band, The Antlers, and Cinema, Cinema) and a two-night stand at Piano's Saturday and Sunday. Be there or be quadrilateral, with sides of equal length. (MySpace)

Peel -- Moxy Blues

ps -- Latest addition to the Rich Girls Awesometastic Summer Jams list: Eve's "Tambourine" -- featuring Swizz Beats, and costumed, it seems, entirely by the fine people at American Apparel.

pss -- BONUS REMIXES & ETCETERATA, because we love you ... Fall Out Boy -- Thnks Fr Th Mmrs (The Lindbergh Palace Remix) // Feist -- My Moon, My Man (Damage On The Backseat remix) // Tiga -- You Gonna Want Me (Van She Tech Mix) // Queens of the Stone Age -- White Wedding (Billy Idol cover) // Hail Social -- Cherry Cola Funk (Sta mix)

2007-06-06T18:40:00.001-04:00

(photo courtesy of i drop bøms)

Interpol.
June 5, 2007.
Bowery Ballroom, Delancey Street, NYC.

The woman to my left was texting Kenna, the kids on right were clandestinely taping the proceedings. I suppose it's to be expected when you basically crash (ok, legitimately, but still) an event that was thick with Capitol Music Group staffers and rabid superfans, as we did last night at Interpol's appearance at Bowery Ballroom.

Every time I see Interpol, I'm reminded of a line from The Commitments -- "All the Motown brothers wore suits -- it's neat, dignified. You play better in your suit." (In that film, of course, the downfall of The Commitments' unity is presaged by the fact that they don't play their best-attended gig in said suits...)

And Interpol is, above all else, a neat and dignified band. And I've always felt, even in the face of Carlos' more outrageous accessories (or any other article of clothing created for him by Craig Robinson), that it wasn't ever pretension or a pose that drove Messrs. Banks, Kessler, Fogarino, and Dengler to take the stage in suits. (Because, naturally, they played better in their suits -- and they knew it.) It was, instead, their signal to us, the audience, that they were playing serious music. Indeed, Interpol is the closest thing to high art currently residing in the ~~indie~~ rock pantheon.

If you're from Austin you probably have a personal apocryphal story about how you totally meant to go to the time they played outside at Emo's on the Bright Lights tour, the night of the big ice storm in 2003. But, like me and Pinkie, you were trapped at the top of a steep driveway (yes, really) or were too skittish to try driving again after a stressful trip home from work, so you didn't make it. I remember sitting in my apartment wondering if it would be foolish to walk the mile or so to town in my thin coat and stupid shoes. I decided it was too cold, even though I was secretly obsessed with Turn on The Bright Lights and was too embarrassed to tell my indie-pop loving friends about it -- that I had a crush on these sharp men from NYC and their driving, embittered and mournful songs.

I didn't have a chance to see them again until the spring of 2005. When they played outside at Stubb's on Election Night 2004, on the first leg of the Antics tour, Pinkie was in attendance (we didn't know each other all that well then); I hate seeing bands in Stubb's outdoor amphitheater, always have. I went to see our pals Cue over at Beerland (it was actually the first time I saw them live) instead and then attended the strangest, most painful Shearwater show on record at the late show inside at Stubb's. I was a little giddy though, over the fact that Carlos and Paul were shooting pool in the room adjacent. I remember stopping to watch them -- all name-calling and long fingers and clinking beer bottles -- and marveling at the sight. There were no men like that in Austin -- not that I knew, anyway. They were rarefied, unreal. Real glittering and hard rock stars, not a thing like my sweet friends in bands I'd seen earlier in the evening, or who were on the stage at that time. And oh, the irony that Shearwater eventually ended up on Matador, Interpol's indie home!

What I didn't know then was how much harder and more glittering that facade would get over the next few years. (For it was, after all, just a facade, but even the wisest can be fooled -- because as we discovered later, yes, really, they were as sweet and unassuming as our friends in Cue and Shearwater.) They seemed always to be on the road, touring first with the Cure, then circling the globe on the strength of Antics and its pumping, danceable singles "Evil" and "Slow Hands" -- with proper videos and everything! They were famous; the suits went from vintage or serviceable, solid brands to better, sharper, bespoke. The hard sparkle was on. By the time I did finally did manage to see Interpol live at the Austin Music Hall in February 2005, they were razor sharp and deadly sexy. Sleek and almost a horrible, terrible force to be reckoned with. Watching them was like watching "porn directed by Leni Riefenstahl," I famously quipped after the encore. Offensive yes, but it was all I could manage to stammer out in response to what I'd just seen. I was shell-shocked by the white-hot light rig; the blistering, textured guitars; the relentless, hypnotic rhythm section; Paul's dour vocals.

That fall, Pinkie and I drove all over east and north Texas to see shows on multiple nights as our favorite bands rolled through our corner of the world, running ourselves ragged -- unhappy women recently extricated from painful relationships, fleeing from the reality of adulthood. We bonded on those long drives, became fast friends, learned each other's favorite songs, cursed the men who'd betrayed us. We drove to Dallas, where we interviewed our friends The Double when they opened for Interpol. We drove to Tulsa to see them too, just because they played, much to our collective delight, at the venerable, old ballroom that was home to Bob Wills and the Texas Playboys.

Lots of things have changed for both of us in the past year and a half, but not our deep admiration for this band. So, when we had the chance to see them play that holy grail of NYC venues -- the beautiful Bowery Ballroom, last night -- we couldn't stay away. How could we? (It was impossible to turn back time all the way -- Brownies is now the Hi-Fi and home to El DJ instead of a grotty stage frequented by up-and-coming baby bands.)

We'd already heard the new record, Our Love to Admire, last week at the Capitol offices (no, it won't leak -- we had to listen on iPod with headphones). We knew things were different. And it wasn't just that Carlos and Sam were almost exclusively wearing suits onstage made by our friend Anthony S. Malat at Sinner/Saint, looking like the spiritual son of Johnny Cash and a Five Points pugilist, respectively. It wasn't the rumors that Paul had been to rehab. It wasn't the fact that Daniel was insisting in interviews that listeners shouldn't look for too much meaning in the songs, despite the fact that there was clearly meaning to be mined. It wasn't that they were playing small, sometimes seated venues to mixed reviews in old theaters and ballrooms across Canada, Europe, and the US in between festival gigs. And it wasn't about the dog, either.

Forget the rumors you've heard -- maybe some were true, maybe some weren't, but that's in the past. Give up complaining about the suits, or that they're a Joy Division ripoff. This is a band that's very sorry if your relationship with them started out on the wrong foot, and would you mind very much starting over from square one? Because they'd like to try again too.

Last night, some things were immediately evident: Gone are the sharp edges, the things that made you want to hold them at arm's length. Think the eeriness of the Marfa lights, the loneliness of long nighttime drives on lost highways. The flashy, bitchy Carlos D. has most definitely been usurped by Carlos Dengler, part-time film composer, who smiles when he plays now. Paul's heart may or may not have been broken -- in any case, his voice is improved and comes from a shadowed depth only previously hinted at. Daniel still skitters around in his version of the Chuck Berry/Elvis Costello box step, ever more convinced that he can turn a guitar into a percussion instrument, perhaps by sheer will alone. And Sam's still calmly driving the boys to town, the band's elder statesman, but by no means too old to understand that a good rock show is good for the soul.

And the utterly deafening roar of the crowd as they wrapped up the first part of the set with the killer, underrated "Not Even Jail," cemented it all. The new songs are still a little weak and may not even play out well in the live setting, and they're clearly sick of playing their 'hit' "Evil" -- but that's no matter. These are men don't just enjoy playing music, they enjoy playing it together, with a common aim. It may not always be entertaining, or easy to watch -- but it is almost always something beautiful to behold.

Interpol -- Specialist
Interpol -- Not Even Jail
Interpol -- Slow Hands (Britt Daniel Remix)
Interpol -- Leif Erickson

2007-05-31T10:13:00.000-04:00

(photo courtesy of the Escort myspace page)

As if this weekend couldn't be more stuffed with musical goodness, this is just a quick note to also let you know that Escort is playing our oh-so-fave Fun! gathering this evening (Friday the 1st) at Studio B in Greenpoint. We have yet to see this 15ish-piece disco orchestra in action; I'm trying to figure out if we can make it there in time after The National wrap things up at the Bowery, but I think this may be totally impossible. Escort released their last 12", All Through The Night, in May. They're heading into the studio to work on a full-length album.

Escort -- All Through The Night (The Rapture Hush Hush remix)
Escort -- A Bright New Life (Vocal Mix) [repost]

Also at Studio B this weekend, Datarock, those delightful Norwegian purveyors of scuffed electronic pop. They play Saturday the 2nd. Their self-titled debut album, one of our favorites that's chock-full of fizzy, sunny summer jams, is finally seeing release stateside June 10 with slightly different content than the 2005 release; anyway, seeing as it's nearly perfect and comes complete with a paean to Laurie Anderson, we can't recommend this one more highly. Dance, dammit!

Datarock -- Fa-Fa-Fa
Datarock -- Laurie
Datarock -- I Used To Dance With My Daddy (Comet Remix)

Bonus: Datarock -- Computer Camp Love

And, I've been meaning to post about this for ages -- but remember our pals the lovely Don Delilo-flavored Los Angeles kids Airborne Toxic Event? Well, they just finished a little mini-tour of the UK (they played Club NME at Koko in London last Friday; would that we could have been there!) and play The Troubador in Los Angeles June 9th after opening for the Kaiser Chiefs on the 7th. They're also recording a 7" for a UK release later this year.

The Airborne Toxic Event -- The Girls In Their Summer Dresses

(And, yes, Julie Christie, the rumors are true -- we were at Capitol Music Group's offices today over on 5th Ave to listen to Interpol's Our Love To Admire (out July 10th). We took our knitting and were very polite and well-behaved. Sadly, due to requests from the nice folks behind the PR machinery, we can't review it quite yet, but stay tuned...)

2007-05-30T14:28:00.000-04:00

(photo courtesy of packratticus)

It's summer in the city, finally -- and NYC is bursting at the seams with shows we're intent on catching over the next few weeks. We finally broke down and Craigslisted tickets to The National's sold out stint at the Bowery; we'll be at the Friday show. Also on the bill, the tomb-gloomy song stylings of ubersupergroup (producer Peter Katis, full-time dad and studio/label namesake Tarquin Katis, and label and multi-band project impresario Adam Pierce) The Philistines Jr. (Austinites in the house can catch Mr. Pierce in his Mice Parade guise a few days later at Emo's on Sunday June 3rd. Such a jetsetter!)

Also, next week packs the one-two punch of the Bellmer Dolls' free show at the Clemente Soto Velez Cultural Center (107 Suffolk Street) Monday the 4th; Piker Ryan, Dimi Dero Inc., and Preacher and the Knife are also scheduled to appear. And in what seems to be an unprescedented feat, we'll be at the "secret" Interpol show at Bowery (it's not even on the calendar at press time) on the 5th. According to our sources, it sold out in a few hours with roughly zero promotion. Welcome home, buckaroos!

[Also not to be missed: Lavender Diamond (June 3), The Clientele (June 8) and The Long Blondes (June 9), also at Bowery.]

Relatedly, all this unbridled man-howling (the ladies and more mellow choices mentioned above notwithstanding, of course), hot rhythm sections, and pwanging guitars have given us Television on the brain. That lead us to reread Lester Bangs' "free jazz punk rock" to get ready for our hot hot hot summer of nouveau blues. Get on board!

Television -- Marquee Moon.

Our secret fave Magazine's also popping up all over; the quintessentially bitter "Song From Under The Floorboards" has appeared over a handful of blogs lately, much to our delight; afternoons just aren't complete these days without a listen.

2007-05-17T16:54:00.000-04:00

We're kicking it old school lately, what with the new Spoon album sending us back to the band's back catalog and all -- but most pleasantly, we are glad to let you know about the return of Shannon Wright. We saw her at SXSW 2002 at the Scottish Rite Theater, where she played right before a young man you might have heard of -- Andrew Bird (it was totally one of those "I was there" moments...she spent most of her alloted time setting up a giant light-up keyboard, and then blew everyone away with a gorgeous and powerful set that left us all kind of speechless in wonder) and at SXSW 2003, when she played the Quarterstick showcase with Quasi -- it was the last time I enjoyed one of their sets, let me tell ya. (BTW, I found this feature whilst checking those dates, and OMG, the nostalgia...). I admit, I hadn't thought of Ms. Wright much lately, and so I was infinitely pleased to see a press release about her latest release, Let in the Light, in my inbox the other day -- and was completely blown away by the songs therein. Ms. Wright is back in fine form, and her gorgeous, gorgeous voice is still going strong -- she's one of those artists that's hard to do justice to in text. Just listen. Trust me on this one, 'kay? RIYL: Feist, Cat Power, Electrelane, Rilo Kiley.

Shannon Wright -- Everybody's Got Their Own Part to Play
Shannon Wright -- St. Pete

The charming Staten Island-dwelling Ingrid Michaelson, (who sends the sweetest, most polite emails -- we've been following her career since she submitted some tracks for us to review almost exactly a year ago...) was the subject of a lengthy profile in the Wall Street Journal today (link good for 7 days) about artists bypassing the major label-schema and going straight to exposure via primetime TV. One weird twist: one of her songs is the centerpiece of the "Grey's Anatomy" finale tonight, won't be available anywhere, except for streaming on her MySpace page, until the release of the "Grey's Anatomy" soundtrack later this year. Oh, and Jason Kurland, who manages Death Cab for Cutie (Who became the famous because of "The O.C.," remember? heh.) reminds unsigned artists that this is a really risky way to build a career if they don't have the strength of a major behind them to handle the supply chain issues. I think Ms. Michaelson--who's been paid upwards of $15,000 for each song of her songs used on various TV shows, and who makes about 40% more per song sold on iTunes than artists on labels--major or otherwise, is aware of this fact, but might argue that Mr. Kurland's cautions are rapidly becoming a moot point. We shall see, I suppose.

Speaking of new and exciting modes of distribution in the industry, Wired and Slashdot are literally beside themselves over the fact that two independent record labels -- the UK's First Word, and Omaha's own Saddle Creek, are selling vinyl albums that come with codes to download a DRM-free digital version of the album for free. (*gasp!*) Um, I'd like to point out that several of the labels in the Beggars Group and Merge Records HAVE ALREADY DONE THIS. (As a matter of fact, Pinkie heard Beggars Group chairman Martin Mills discuss this very subject in a panel at SXSW 2006, yo, and it made her positively swoony.) And then there's the fact that most indie labels shun DRM copy protection. Whatever, Wired -- your fact checkers and editors are AWESOME.

In other news, we will indeed be attending the Secret Machines/Bellmer Dolls show on Saturday at the High Line Ballroom (CRAIGSLIST!). From what we've been able to ascertain, the reason this show is sold out is that the festival is heavily reliant on corporate sponsorship (duh!), and most of the ticket buys went to sponsors. Awesome! The High Line branding scheme in general is really, really strange, you know? But ... whatever, we'll be there. It's a new venue, we simply MUST go. Everyone will be there. (tee-hee)

Oh, and! We'll be djing an Austin-licious bill at Union Hall in July thanks to our friends at Neon Lights -- more details to come when we have them!

2007-05-16T17:00:00.000-04:00

(photo courtesy of Kathryn Yu)

So, understandably, people want to know what we think of "The Ghost of You Lingers" -- the preview track from the new Spoon record, Ga ga ga ga ga.

It seems like a lot of people really hate it.

We think it's really great. And here's why.

The wonderful thing about Spoon records is that they always reveal what's on heavy rotation in Britt's record collection.

Remember when Spoon songs kinda sounded like Replacements songs? And Wire songs? Or John Lennon songs? It's cute, because Spoon songs never ape the influences, but send them through the weird filter of the band's songwriting grammar (uh huh! yeah! all right!), and the result is something charming and rarefied and unpretentious, all at once.

Spoon -- Car Radio
Spoon -- Mountain of Sound
Spoon -- Everything Hits At Once
Spoon -- Stay Don't Go

See? Uh huh -- you know what I'm talking about.

Someone over on Idolator namechecked Steve Reich and Philip Glass in the discussion about "The Ghost of You Lingers." That's sounds about right. There's nothing here but synthy bits pounding out a Glass-y hypertensive rhythm. And Britt's multi-tracked vocals. And the occasional atmospheric electronic crunch or swirly wisp of a marimba or steel drum under that that echoes soundscapes from previous albums. And that's it. No, really. THAT IS ALL. For the whole song. But it's not that different from say, the grammar of "Stay Don't Go," you know? Just without the BrittBeatBox action.

It would appear that maybe this is Spoon's record in the modern classical/experimental mode? I mean, things had been heading that way for a while now -- I mean, most of Kill the Moonlight was ultra-minimal, with a whole lot of low pile noise made by the rhythm section going on in the background and on top of that, spartan melodies with canyons about three miles wide running right through the middle--but Gimme Fiction was a little more, how you say... accessible.

Now, we can't absolutely say for certain what's going on with Ga, etc., and if it's entirely a return to form as promised on Kill the Moonlight because we haven't heard the rest (we have it, we just haven't listened to it quite yet...busy!). But we're hedging our bets that basically, this is the kind of record that says:

"Yeah, we know you loved our hits 'Way We Get By' as heard on the hit television series "The O.C." and 'I Turn My Camera On' from that Verizon commercial, but really, that's not who we are. Oh, um, you thought we wrote catchy indie anthems? Well, you know, not so much. We're actually trying to bring back No Wave. Again. Please enjoy this anti-album full of anti-melodies. LOVE AND KISSES, SPOON."

Spoon -- The Ghost of You Lingers

2007-05-15T12:31:00.000-04:00

We hope we're not totally the last girls to the party on this one, but the buzz is that Dan Le Sac vs. Scroobius Pip's "Thou Shalt Always Kill" is totally the next "Losing My Edge." A little unfair and reductive, to be sure -- this is a whole lot more blisteringly hortative and a lot less confessional than LCD Soundsystem's seminal track... And it certainly says something that certain lines have already slipped into Cindy-speak.

I'd post the mp3, but we'd have to pull it down -- check out their Myspace to listen or the Lex Records site for more deets on where to purchase. See also: Dan Le Sac's blog.

2007-05-10T00:04:00.000-04:00

This is what happens when you innocently go looking for new tracks and get totally and completely sidetracked. So, everyone's favorite Fergie recorded a cover of Heart's "Barracuda" for the Shrek the Third soundtrack. Now, I admit, I wasn't the biggest Fergie fan, there was something about her tuneless Rex Harrison act for the Black Eyed Peas that betrayed the memory of the big-voiced brassy blonde named Stacey Ferguson I remembered from late 90's pop travesty act Wild Orchid. Pinkie kept trying to convince me than the new Candie's shoes spokesmodel was out-Gwenning Gwen Stefani, but I remained staunchly loyal to the former Queen of Orange County.

That is, until we had a little Fergie binge just now. Believe me, you need to hear this.

Fergie -- Barracuda.

She can uh, really sing. Anyone know who's in her backing band here? They've labored very, very hard to sound like Howard Leese. Naturally, you need the original, for comparison:

Heart -- Barracuda.

And, while we're on the Fergie kick, you probably need to be reminded of her turn in the aforementioned Wild Orchid. Boy, this really hasn't aged well, has it? Or, uh, was it ever good? Hmmm.

Pinkie was stunned that Fergie could actually sing. I reminded her of Ms. Ferguson's turn on Kids Incorporated... here, ca. 1984, doing "Let's Hear it For the Boy" with, uh, Martika and future Wild Orchid-mate Renee Sandstrom. (It's highly amusing when taken in juxtaposition with "Fergalicious," btw)

Oh, what the heck, you need a Martika infusion too, right?

Martika -- Martika's Kitchen.

Wow, what is it with the Kids Incorporated alums?! Did they all turn out completely bonkers and destined to record pop songs where they namecheck themselves? (If you uh, make it through the video above, you'll see what I mean... MARTIKALICIOUS!) Alternatively, it's gotta burn to have a project like this one when your former colleagues are making jillions...

Naturellement, you need this as the final word in everything...

Fergie -- Fergalicious (Tyler Nelson Beat Mix).

2007-05-08T13:34:00.000-04:00

First, utter hilarity from Spinner, AOL's totally invisible music site/blog thing: James Murphy vs. blogger Hayen Merrit of Telephone Panda (har har har!), re: backlash and uh, Ultimate Combat and um, the fact that Murphy is "a snake." (OBVS!)

***

Places we won't be tonight: Ok, look -- it's a Tuesday. I know I live in NYC and all, but this is kind of ridiculous:

Arcade Fire & The National -- ~~Radio City Music Hall~~ United Palace Theater SOLD OUT (capacity: ~~6000~~ 3292)
Ben Gibbard & Dave Bazan -- Town Hall SOLD OUT (capacity: 1500)
Bjork & Spank Rock -- Apollo Theater SOLD OUT (capacity: 1464)
Blonde Redhead & Fields -- Webster Hall SOLD OUT (capacity: 1400)
Amy Winehouse -- Highline Ballroom SOLD OUT (capacity: 700)
Beirut & Final Fantasy -- Bowery Ballroom SOLD OUT (capacity: 550)

That means approx. ~~12,000~~ 10,000 "indie"/"hipster" kids of all persuasions will be concentrated in six venues around the city tonight. Sounds like an Onion story waiting to happen. "Scary sucking void created in LES, Williamsburg on night of six sold-out rock shows."

Seriously, though -- looking at this, I'd say that dude, the music industry's issues are so about internal business disorganization and an aging business model, rather than the lack of alternative revenue potential.

In the meantime, there's some non-packed options tonight and lots of good Wednesday options that still have tickets available -- guess everyone is shooting their wad tonight.

***

You clearly need some music for your troubles. Clearly.

Ola Podrida -- Cindy. I doubt the dudes in Ola Podrida wrote this about me, but it would be especially funny if they did -- right? Can we call this country shoegaze? Shoegazey folk? Brought to you by some of the lovely people behind American Analog Set, hence the gorgeous lushness. (myspace)

Nina Simone -- Sinnerman. Posted sort of as an inside joke, but Nina Simone is always good for what ails you. ALWAYS.

Escort -- A Bright New Life. There's a new Escort 12" out -- "All Through The Night". And they're recording a full-length, finally. Rock on, Escort. Please continue to be awesome. (myspace)

Depeche Mode -- Just Can't Get Enough (Dirty South Mix). Well, yes, now that you mention it, I do think you need to have a dance party with yourself, right now. DO IT.

Loose Joints -- All Over My Face (Original Long Version). Oh, why not? Because I deleted this in The Great Achive Purge. And you so need to listen to it again, or for the first time. Either/or. Probably one of the best songs of all time. This is all kind of connected to the James Murphy discussion above, stylistically, at least. (And yes, Pinkie, this is the one with the male vocal instead...)

2007-05-08T00:12:00.000-04:00

I was so tired and slammed today -- I wanted to post and didn't get around to it. I think I may still be just a smidgen drained from seeing the Bellmer Dolls on Friday, even though I lounged around for the rest of the weekend. It was highly amusing -- the usual Fun denizens were in Studio B's mythical "other room" which could only be reached by traipsing through the crowd of gloomcookies who came out for the Bellmer Dolls and made the entire main room look like that dark corner of the gym where misfits hung out in high school. The looks on the faces of the hipster kids coming for the underground dance party really were quite priceless when they were faced with a wall of coldwave, as selected by guest dj Alex Chow. (Pinkie swears she heard some Antler action in his set... We'd post some Poesie Noire or something, but Pinkie just has it on vinyl, and we are so not putting up some Lords of Acid, y'all. You understand.)

Anyway, we were pleased that the Dolls tried out some of their fabulous new songs on the small but enthusiastic crowd. Here's a visual aid (photo by Collin LaFleche); Pinkie wrote elsewhere (she's kindly letting me quote her here):

Like I said on the bus the other night, watching Peter is like watching a young and dirty hot tent revival preacher on a hot summer night. He's not handling snakes, but he's feeling the spirit, and even though he's holding his bible open, it's just a tangible link to the divine because he doesn't need it for reference to scripture. For those 20 minutes, he's God's tool, but afterwards it's likely that he'll be a creature of the flesh, waging his own battle with the sins of liquor and women, saying things like "you look good in your skin, girl." And Anthony is his straight man, and Daniel just drives. ... You have Preacher Man Peter poised on the edge of offering someone deliverance and engaging with Anthony in this uneasy-making, primal, completely masculine, and hetero-erotic (yes, I said hetero) paso doble. It's really a paso doble, in the tradition of bull fights. ... Seeing the Bellmer Dolls gives me that same weird feeling that I get when I start to wonder if there is any truth to the legend that Robert Johnson sold his soul to the devil at the crossroads so that he could play the blues.

They're also playing an already sold-out show with the Secret Machines on the 19th as part of the High Line Festival (Highly recommended if you feel like Craigslisting it...) and are working on a full-length album.

Here's an earlier track from their previously well-received ep on Hungry Eye records, The Big Cats Will Throw Themselves Over.

Bellmer Dolls -- Push, Push

***
In other news, Rihanna's "Umbrella" is totally our unequivocal broken heart summer jam (oh, boys can be such trouble sometimes...) -- it makes you happy and sad at the same time, as all great pop songs do. And wow, we sure do love the video.

Rihanna feat. Jay-Z -- Umbrella (Clean)

(And dude, who cares if that's not her en pointe, really? The fetishy aesthetic is grand...)

Reminds us a lot of this particular video too...

Madonna -- Fever

...which of course, made us then think of this ...

Sinead O'Connor -- You Do Something To Me

which inevitably brought us full circle, back to the Wiemar Republic, with:

Marlene Dietrich -- Falling in Love Again from The Blue Angel

ps -- Watch out, it's gettin on summer, and we're kind of totally freestyle-mad. Doesn't help that they air the commercial for Forever Freestyle constantly on VH1 Classics -- even during Metal Mania. Stay tuned! You've been warned.

2007-05-03T12:17:00.000-04:00

Two quick items: Go NOW and listen to the Bellmer Dolls guesting on East Village Radio's Dead Beat Radio until 2pm EDT -- I can't because I'm firewalled here at the day job. Happy Birthday, Peter!

When you're done with that, it's imperative that you head over to OI OI OI, the new blog of the Bang Gang kids. (via Big Stereo...) YOU ARE COMPELLED TO DANCE. Do not fight it. Nope. Don't.

(Also, big ups to Song, By Toad -- because we hadn't seen his new banner, and we lurve it.)

Randomly, because I love you and I love this -- Lo-Fi-Fnk smooshes all the squeaky clean popitude out of this track and turns it into a rhythm-happy and perky-dirty floor-thumper:

The Feeling -- Love It When You Call (Lo-Fi-Fnk remix) / (myspace) (remixer)

Favorite current subway commute track, from what's really shaping up to be the best album of 07 so far:

Mark Ronson w/ Amy Winehouse -- Valerie

BONUS: Our old friend Rachel Rhodes (old-skool Austinites may remember her gorgeous, smoky voice from back in the day when she was the vocalist with Rubinchik's Orkestyr) is living in Paris now and is in the process of self-releasing a covers album on her Virb page titled A Tribe Called Request -- the content's directed by specific requests from her pals from around the world via her Vox page. I've missed hearing her sing; perhaps we can compel her to record "Psycho Killer" with ukelele next! (hint, hint)

Rachel Rhodes -- Just What I Needed (and there's more to be had on RR's Virb site)

EXTRA BONUS: Via 14icedbear, The Believer interviews Okkvervil River's Will Sheff. Well, it's Sean from Said the Gramophone, actually doing the interviewing. Best part: knives and being pro-murder. That's what Okkervil River is all about, people. Seriously.

2007-05-02T01:42:00.000-04:00

Song/band of the moment. Yeah, so, they were last active 'round these parts in the early 80's -- Polyrock's getting the blog love right now (Loudersoft & Idolator have mp3s to dl) thanks to a reissue of their first two albums (the self-titled Polyrock and Changing Hearts, released in 1980 and 1981, respectively), produced by Philip Glass, mind you. Love the square haircuts and and polo shirts; they just look so shiny and clean and sweet. "Romantic Me" is, suffice it to say, brilliant.

Polyrock -- Romantic Me

Polyrock -- Bucket Rider

And, because we're in the mood, some Sparks to go with.

Sparks -- #1 Song in Heaven

2007-05-01T00:22:00.000-04:00

YAY BONUS POST. In proof that I can tie everything together, eventually -- I present the following as an addendum to the previous post:

LCD Soundsystem -- Jump Into The Fire (Harry Nilsson cover)
Hank Williams Jr -- All My Rowdy Friends (Have Settled Down)

SUPER BONUS:

Bellmer Dolls -- The Diva

2007-04-30T17:04:00.000-04:00

So, even if we couldn't pull enough strings to get into the grand opening of the Highline Ballroom tonight with Lou Reed and Overkill (um, Okkervil) River (that mutual admiration society is a bizzaro complement to the Iggy Pop/At The Drive-In pairing back in the day, isn't it?), we were super-stoked to find out today that one of our favorite Austinites, the always wonderful DJ Mel, is rolling with the Yo Majesty & CSS party barge for a few dates in June. Though we aren't the biggest CSS fans ever (or at all, even), the idea of darling Mel with the ladies of Yo Majesty is very pleasing to us indeed. (Grab one of his dj sets from November on East Village Radio con Nick Catchdubs over yonder.)

DATES:
april 30th - nasty's / austin, tx
may 30th - nasty's / austin, tx
june 1st - irving plaza w/ yo majesty & CSS / new york city
june 2nd - the middle east w/ yo majesty & CSS / cambridge, mass.
june 6th - dagobert w/ yo majesty & thunderheist / quebec city, quebec
june 7th - academy club w/ yo majesty & thunderheist / montreal, quebec
june 8th - babylon w/ yo majesty & thunderheist / ottawa, quebec
june 11th - casbah w/ yo majesty, diplo & bonde do role / san diego, ca.
june 12th - cinespace w/ yo majesty / los angeles, ca.
june 14th - beauty bar w/ yo majesty / austin, tx.
july 7th - milk bar/san francisco

Speaking wonderful things, I can't get enough of DC's Da Committee -- as they put it, they really are the perfect blend of Dirty South and East Coast Hip Hop. Thanks (again) to AgentLovelette for the tip. (And check out the "DC Clap" on their MySpace page...)

Da Committee -- Bruce Wayne (sorry for the zshare action, I was having trouble uploading it to the Rich Girls server...)

Also: Prince covering Joni Mitchell is indeed the best thing ever. Don't even attempt to disagree with me here. Or wait, or is it John Cale covering LCD Soundsystem's "All My Friends"? (Which, btw, is totally the "All My Rowdy Friends (Have Settled Down)" of 2007, I think. Too bad I didn't have that to post, too.) I just don't know.

John Cale -- All My Friends (DFA cover). [I don't need to tell you this is mad limited, get it before Murphy and Sweeney nail my ass for this one. FASTER!]

Prince -- Case of You (Joni Mitchell cover).

And, hey! Congrats to our new pals The Muggabears for making the grade on the L Magazine's Class of 2007: 8 NYC Bands You Need to Hear list. Rock on, y'all! We don't envy anyone the task of winnowing down the gobs of bands sprawled across our lovely metropolis to a list of just eight to watch, and The Mugs totally deserve the shout-out.

The Muggabears -- Dead Kid Kicks.

Needless to say we weren't at Coachella. AS IF -- it was totally the weekend to clean the Castle, duh! However, this Friday we'll yet again voluntarily subject ourselves to the FUN! gathering at Studio B in Greenpoint. Oh, the things we go through for the Bellmer Dolls, I tell ya. (They'd best play that cover of "Jump into the Fire" if'n they know what's good for them.)

And, dear NYC'ers -- don't miss the adorable Yellow Fever, who will be in town this weekend too -- featuring Jen (aka 'remember when there was a girl in Voxtrot?') and Isobel, one of Pinkie's former coworkers! It's gonna be positively Austin-tastic up here for the next few weeks, and that's totally fine with us!

ps -- Are you a writer with a strong background in financial journalism (3+yrs) in the NYC area? Are you looking for a new gig? Are you a nerd for business news, operations, and history? Let me know. Seriously.

pss -- One of our favorite show-going pals, the magnificent photographer Kathryn Yu, is selling prints of her work. Show the love -- and someone buy me this one, okay?

2007-04-25T23:07:00.000-04:00

Mmmm. Old Austin fave, the ever-changing yet totally stalwart and prolific Dale Watson takes a page from the Johnny Cash playbook on his new album From The Cradle To The Grave (on Brooklyn's very own Hyena Records) -- even going as far to record the entire album at Cash's Tennessee mountain cabin (currently owned by Johnny Knoxville -- really, could this story be more swoon-worthy?). Check out the video below for "Justice For All," starring some heartthrob from Desperate Housewives. (I wouldn't know, I don't watch it...)

And yes, you betcha, we will be out to see Mr. Watson on tour. You should too...

May 11 / WFPK "Live Lunch" / Louisville, KY
May 11 / Ear X-tacy In-Store / Louisville, KY
May 12 / Midnight Jamboree @ Texas Troubadour Theatre / Nashville, TN
May 13 / Hideaway BBQ / Raleigh, NC
May 14 / Plan 9 In-Store / Richmond, VA
May 14 / Shennanigans / Richmond, VA
May 15 / The Iota Club / Arlington, VA
May 16 & 17 / The Rodeo Bar / New York, NY
May 19 / Johnny D's / Boston, MA
May 20 / The Ale House / Troy, NY
May 21 / The Sportsman's Tavern / Buffalo, NY
May 22 / Beachland Ballroom / Cleveland, OH
May 23 / Martyr's / Chicago, IL
May 24 / Club Tavern / Middleton, WI (Madison)
May 25 / Vnuk’s Lounge / Cudahy, WI (Milwaukee)
May 26 / Lee's Liquor Lounge / Minneapolis, MN
May 27 / Knuckleheads / Kansas City, MO
May 28 / The Continental Club / Austin, TX
June 1 / Blanco's / Houston, TX
June 2 / Stagecoach Ballroom / Fort Worth, TX
June 7 / Time Warner Cable-Publik Music Event / Waco, TX
June 8 / Hank's Texas Grill / McKinney, TX
June 9 / The Broken Spoke / Austin, TX
June 16 / Love and War In Texas / Plano, TX
July 6 / Nutty Brown Cafe / Austin, TX
July 20 / The Broken Spoke / Austin, TX
July 28 / Safari Sam’s / Los Angeles, CA
August 1 / The Rawhide Saloon / Jamestown, TX
August 3 / Tractor Tavern / Seattle, WA
August 4 / Pickathon Roots Music Festival / Happy Valley, OR
August 5 / The Oregon Jamboree / Sweet Home, OR
August 8 / Alive After Five Series / Boise, ID
August 9 / Street Dance / Challis, ID
August 10 / Braun Brothers Reunion / Challis, ID
August 17 / The Broken Spoke / Austin, TX
August 23 / Smith’s Olde Bar / Atlanta, GA
August 31 / Minnesota State Fair / St. Paul, MN
September 2-4 / Oneida Casino / Green Bay, WI

...Because, omg, The Rodeo Bar has everything a good Texas girl likes to eat except for queso. I can't believe we missed seeing our SXSW 2006 supercrush, pedal steel savant Chris Scruggs, there earlier this month.

2007-04-16T17:43:00.000-04:00

So, whilst people were having the best time ever over at the Of Montreal show/karaoke jam (it did sound way fun...) at the always-entertaining Studio B, we were having the best time ever seeing Calla at the Bowery Ballroom -- which, given my informal survey after the show and this morning, is proving to be one of everyone's favorite Calla shows ever, it seems (second only to that one last February at Northsix, maybe). They were tight, they were on, and they were brutally lovely. But more on that later... and some other events of the evening, including a nice turn from the Sugar Report and a predictably dull and soul-less (though tight, mind you) set from Dirty on Purpose -- AND the part where we were mistaken for glamorous burlesque queens headed for our shift at The Slipper Room. Color us flattered! Must be my new Chinatown special haircut ($20!) and hot new shoes with the dirty cone heels or Pinkie's high-Weimar Republic makeup scheme, starring Nars' Exhibit A blush and her four-inch dance-a-tattoo-on-yr-grave heels. (No, I'm not kidding. We're still laughing about it, even now. Gotta love NYC.) [Note from Pinkie: Dude, those are five inch heels.]

But for now, we have the second in our two-part series of extra special Voxtrot content, live footage of "Your Biggest Fan" intercut (via the editing skillz of Reynard Seifert) with even more road hijinx and co-starring the Golden Gate Bridge -- I tell you, that tour with Au Revoir Simone is gonna be like the best boy-girl party ever. EVER.

Other big news of the day: So, was the first Interpol show on Canadian pre-release tour lackluster -- or was it first-night jitters? (Were you there? Do tell!) If you're >dyingfor a peek at the new material, head this way (beware of the crappy resolution, though). In other news, you got your tickets for the secret Spoon show at the Bowery Ballroom next Monday, right? Should be a grand old time. They haven't played a venue that small in NYC since ... what, 2001? 2002?

ps -- i fixed the mp3 links on the entry below -- sorry about that. but now, like, the comment link isn't working. WTF? I checked the code, and the bit for the comments just isn't there -- but is on all the other posts. If anyone has suggestions as to what might be going on, please do let me know.

pss -- Brian Banks of Ear to Ear Productions makes $20,000 a pop writing 30-second compositions for commercials -- most of them Fortune 500 companies. Once upon a time, he sold pianos and synths in LA in the 70's and was a session musician -- most notably on Thriller. Now, you hear his compositions several times a day, probably. (via Fortune, link forthcoming)

2007-04-13T18:00:00.000-04:00

A few short things before the weekend. I know I'm lagging on my recap of the Xiu Xiu/Shearwater/Casiotone for the Painfully Alone show -- the hosting hijinx earlier in the week really threw me for a loop -- but I do have a few small items for you today.

First -- Calla, Dirty on Purpose, and the newly-retooled Sugar Report take the stage at the Bowery Ballroom Saturday night. The Sugar Report's demos are enough to make us want to see if they can bring it (you know, "it" being that je ne sais quois that the best bands have live) on a bill with two bands that are pretty formidable performance machines. We'll let you know how it goes.

Secondly -- A friend sent me an interesting article, which you may or may not have seen around the interpipe, about violin virtuoso Joshua Bell's experiment with The Washington Post. They asked him to busk with his Stradivarius violin in a busy DC subway station to see what happened when a master of his caliber graced a more humble venue than a vaunted concert hall. Would people notice? Or would it not even register? The results didn't really surprise me all that much -- now that I live in a city constructed atop a massive public transportation system, nothing that happens in a subway station gives me pause. Anyway, I'd like to posit that this is some of the best writing about music, just in general, that I've read in quite some time. I was moved to tears a few times. You'll see -- I have a feeling that if you're reading this, you're the kind of person who'd be touched by it as well.

I wasn't able to get an mp3 of Bell's recording of one of the pieces in the article (though you can watch a video of his performance at the article link) -- Bach's Chaconne from the Partita No. 2 in D Minor -- but I did find another fiery virtuoso's version...

Lara St. John -- Bach's Chaccone from Partitia No. 2 in D minor. [site]

Thirdly -- I'd forgotten how great lovefingers is. (Recent posts: Michael Moorcock's Deep Fix! Tuxedomoon! METALLICA!! A Kid Creole remix! All in one week!) I'm super bummed that I missed his dj sets here in NYC in February. Ooops.

Fourthly -- James Green Peaness has a great review of the self-titled Voxtrot record. As a preview of coming attractions, I suppose I should let you know that my opinions are pretty much aligned with his. VXTST (hey, I just made that up -- I like it as an abbreviation!!) isn't a collection of jangly, light-hearted singles -- it's a hefty bildugsroman-esque (Though, Pinkie tells me that maybe it's more Künstlerroman-y. Smartypants!) album, which I think is pretty neat. I have a weakness for what I call "thinly-veiled semi-autobiographical coming-of-age" novels -- you know, the kind of thing that lots of promising writers put out as their first effort (everything from To Kill a Mockingbird to Less Than Zero to The Mysteries of Pittsburgh to Special Topics in Calamity Physics follow this literary trope -- there are countless others), and most never get around to following up? Yeah, those. That's what the Voxtrot record is like, in a way. (Except I surely hope there will be an exceptional followup!) Anyway, this will make more sense later, I promise.

YOUR OFFICIAL PARTY TRACKS OF TAX WEEKEND, BTW or, I'm cleaning out things I've wanted to post for months now:

Pull Tiger Tail -- Let's Lightning [ myspace ]
The Longcut -- Idiot Check [ myspace ]
Beyoncé -- Irreplaceable (Dances With White Girls RMX) [ remixer ]
Herbert -- The Audience (Martinez Cosmic Re-Edit) [ remixer ]

2007-04-11T10:17:00.000-04:00

ACK! You may notice that it's a little plain around here today. In a fit of pique, I accidentally deleted all of our image files after getting a copyright infringement notice from our hosting firm early this morning. Don't fret, our pretty pictures and other assorted content will be back tonight -- however, we have taken down our precious archive due to abusive third-party linking.

In the meantime, please pardon our technical difficulties, we'll have everything back to normal at some point! Oh yeah, and watch this video from The Veils for "Advice for Young Mothers To Be." (They're coming stateside this summer, hooray!)

thx.

UPDATE @ 3:11 PM. Images still out of commission, but any tracks uploaded in 2007 are back online. In order to stay out of trouble, though, in future all tracks will be available for a limited time only.

2007-04-09T17:10:00.000-04:00

Wow, what a weekend -- Patrick Wolf, quality time with Shearwater and great sets from Xiu Xiu and Casiotone for the Painfully alone. More on all that later, though.

First, we're happy to have to have our very own exclusive content (does that mean we're really in the big leagues now? oh, I crack myself up...) -- an adorable video from the Voxtrot camp of the band's 2006 Fall tour, set to the strains of "Fast Asleep" off the Mothers, Sisters, Daughters & Wives EP: Five boys in a minivan take on the West Coast!

And, the oft-posted -- and in our humble opinion, totally rad -- teaser for the band's self-titled album, out May 22. Yes, it's darker. Yes, it's not so user-friendly as the earlier stuff. We think that's totally okay -- better than okay, even! Totes perfect.

Voxtrot -- Kid Gloves

...the boys hit the road again soon with the similarly adorbable Au Revoir Simone. BOYS VS GIRLS! Be sure to bring mash notes and cupcakes and hugs, they'll need them -- they're sure to leave a string of broken hearts across America!

05-25 Austin, TX - Emo's
05-29 Los Angeles, CA - El Rey
05-30 San Francisco, CA - Great American Music Hall
06-01 Portland, OR - Doug Fir
06-02 Seattle, WA - Crocodile Cafe
06-05 Minneapolis, MN - Triple Rock
06-06 Grand Rapids, MI - Intersection
06-07 Detroit, MI - Magic Stick
06-08 Toronto, Ontario - Sneaky Dee's
06-11 Cleveland, OH - Beachland
06-12 Baltimore, MD - Ottobar
06-13 Washington, DC - Black Cat
06-14 Boston, MA - Middle East
06-15 New York, NY - Webster Hall
06-16 Philadelphia, PA - Pure

***

In other news, I was at what was apparently the nicest of the Patrick Wolf shows around town this weekend -- at Studio B on Friday night. (And apparently, Kelefa Sanneh was there too, but I didn't spot him -- I also didn't see him at Shearwater's Bowery Ballroom set Sunday, but I assume he was there, too.) Anyway, it was an experience, to say the least: I took the bus alone at night! I walked a long way in heels! I waited in line for ages in the cold and put up with the obnoxious kids behind me erroneously discussing the completion of Mozart's Requiem, praising Rasputina and calling the show a "concert" in a most tedious fashion!

Luckily, once inside the venue, there wasn't a massive, disinterested crowd, as was apparently at the Hiro Ballroom on Thursday. (I tried to go to that show after a lovely dinner at Dimple with the lovely Meg, but promptly turned on my heel when I saw the swelling crowd of wannabe hipsters spilling into the street.) Nor was there drama over the passed out, accosted, and finally uh, unemployed drummer (sad, as he had REALLY NICE HAIR), as at Wolf & band's appearance at MisShapes at Don Hill's on Saturday. (Which also I almost attended as well, and then remembered that it would be more fun to stay home and be boring and give myself a manicure and watch Beauty Shop). However, much to everyone's chagrin, there was a party hostess who blathered like an airheaded dj at a radio remote appearance from hell. I mentioned this to the handsome, mustachioed gent next to me, and he agreed. We were also treated to the worst opening band of all time, Dreamburger. I mean really ladies, if you must get up and scream and play synths in front of people, could ya do it without the bad 80's manqués, and maybe practice a little first? Otherwise, do us a favor, and like, don't subject us to your cutesy/disgusting little-girl slumber party singing-into-a-hairbrush stage antics. OKTHX! (PS -- you might want to watch La Brune et Moi for pointers on how to do it right, yo.) Can I also mention that DJs-of-the-Moment Eamon Harkon and The Bangers' sets were underwhelming at best? Oh, I think I can. (That being said, they do generally book great bills, so uh, don't blackball me, or whatever okay, ya'll?)

Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah -- really, for all my complaining, I had a great time. Wolf & band (when conscious) put on a hell of a show -- even if it was a mere 30 minutes long. He has about the most compelling stage presence I've seen in a long, long time -- in a completely organic and charming yet totally and completly affected way, he rocks the punk rock queer Puck role flawlessly, at that liminal point where New Romantic stage melodramatics, Rufus Wainwright, Owen Pallett (Final Fantasy), Antony, and well, yeah Rasputina and their ilk all collide. (No wonder he's such a hit with the LiveJournal set..!)

Much like Eddie Izzard as megalomaniac manager Jerry in Velvet Goldmine -- someone at Universal probably has dollar signs in their eyes right about now, given that the door girl was walking up and down the block outside the club, screaming to make sure no one in the plebian cash-only/will-call line was a guest-listed label VIP. And Wolf's giddy scream-inducing stage antics can't be hurt by that 8.3 review in Pitchfork, either. (Meanwhile, I was totally won over by his cover of Kelly Marie's "Feels Like I'm In Love" -- at least I think that's what it was..? Confirmations/corrections appreciated.)

The hype couldn't be more clearly deserved, IMHO.

Wolf-y selections from the archive:

Patrick Wolf -- Accident and Emergency
Annie -- Hopeless Fool For Love (Patrick Wolf Remix) [which I originally described as "the ABBA-from-another planet remix"]

[photo courtesty of Kathryn Yu]

***

And later ... how I actually physically enabled Shearwater's Kim Burke in the signing of her contract with Matador on the downstairs bar the Bowery Ballroom -- by providing a pen! (Hahahahaha!) But seriously, y'all. Go buy the new version of Palo Santo tomorrow, okay? OKAY! It's sooooo pretty! You'll see! (Really, this necessitates a hard copy and not the iTunes version, all you packaging fetishists!)

2007-04-04T16:20:00.000-04:00

I like it when something I find kind of serendipitously dovetails with something delivered into our overflowing, over-stuffed email box (seriously DO NOT GO IN THERE) -- it's frightening.

I am (naturally, hello!) in love with Kids on TV's cover of "We Don't Have To Take Our Clothes Off." (via AgentLovelette) You know, you remember -- Jermaine Stewart, right? Boy-freestyle? YES! I had a huge video post a few weeks back that Blogger decided would make a good midnight snack that was chock-full of awesometastic videos, including the stunning juxtaposition of said song and Prince's "If I Was Your Girlfriend" -- and the inevitable postmodern-mindfuck mating of the two -- Justin Timberlake's "My Love."

You know ... like this:

Jermaine Stewart -- We Don't Have To Take Our Clothes Off

Prince - If I Was Your Girlfriend

Justin Timberlake -- My Love

Anyway, Kids on TV's album Mixing Business With Pleasure is coming out on blocksblocksblocks soon-ish; they're having a record release show on my birthday in Toronto. Which I imagine will be totally fun. They're currently touring Europe, and are currently in the wilds of Denmark headed for Germany.

Kids on TV -- We Don't Have To Take Our Clothes Off

***

Meanwhile, from the PR machine comes Pink Nasty's cover of Usher's "Burn". You know I don't generally serve up stuff from promo people unless it's worth hearing, and this is. I should probably also let you know that Ms. Nasty is touring with those other Austin darlings who double as her backing band, The Black. Keep an eye out for them. And, if you like, stream all of her great debut, Mold The Gold behind this link. Good times!

Pink Nasty -- Burn

Needless to say, after following Shearwater across the U.S. in people's Flickrs, I'm on tenterhooks for Sunday (SUNDAY! SUNDAY!). I'm torn between holding a "WIN A DATE WITH CINDY HOTPOINT" contest (I kid, I kid) or just going alone or asking out a certain interesting young gentleman. I know this may shock you, but I'm horribly shy when it comes to those kinds of things. I don't think anyone would ever call me forward.

I suppose I should also mention that I'm kind of all about the Voxtrot debut, which I'm sure is shocking to no one -- and I'm avoiding the backlash like the plague. But I'll have more on that when I write a review approx. two months from now. (Can't post a track now -- I don't feel like running afoul of the nice folks at Beggars, you know how it is...) Anyway, perhaps by then, the hater-aters will have calmed down...or not.

ps -- NYC-ers, anyone else going to Patrick Wolf on Thurs. @ Hiro Ballroom?

pss -- Latest secret dance party track: Cosmos -- Take Me With U (Vocal Mix) . Seriously.

2007-04-02T16:49:00.000-04:00

The weekend at TGRAW HQ went a little something like this, thanks to the fact that the C train wasn't running:

Derek Jarman's films pretty much define clear-eyed prescience -- especially Jubilee. And the best part has to be Jordan as Amyl Nitrate singing (shreiking? wailing?) uh, the anthemic "Rule Britannia". (Jordan apparently, in addition to working at a fetish shop in Brighton, occasionally performed with Adam and the Ants.)

[Small editorial aside from Pinkie: Contrary to our speculation that Jordan, née Pamela Rooke, may have met with a bad end, we were pleased to find that Wikipedia, among other sources, states that Ms. Rooke is now a veterinary nurse and a noted breeder of Burmese cats. But we do suppose that cat breeding, in its obvious absurdity, is a pretty iconoclastic avocation.]

It's always nice to find another April Stevens fan, seriously -- especially one as nearly giddy as he was when I mentioned her iconic cult album Teach Me Tiger... Now then, perhaps my treasured vinyl copy of that LP will materialize from the aether. (Winning back cover copy: 'she sings like her throat is full of angora sweaters...')

April Stevens -- Teach Me Tiger

(And check out the rollicking duet "I've Been Carrying A Torch For You So Long That I Burned A Great Big Hole In My Heart" performed with her brother Nino Tempo over at Domino Rally)

Must dash for now, but I'm thinking of you. Really!

ps -- In Flagranti dj set, A Decade of Hero Worship

2007-03-29T16:34:00.000-04:00

"I'm totally straight," he told me as I perused his iTunes library over the network this morning. I admit, I'm not entirely sure why he felt the need to tell me that. I wanted to tell him that having the Jesus and Mary Chain, The Mountain Goats, and the Indigo Girls in his iTunes library was definitely not an indicator of his sexuality, not in the slightest. Because every dude I've ever known who was into the Indigo Girls was really, really straight -- and always seemed to enjoy going to their shows because it was a total low-pressure situation in terms of female interactions. It's kind of sweet, actually -- my friend Dave the Indigo Girls Superfan was always that one guy rocking on the front row at their Austin shows in the mid-90's. I left disc one of live album 1200 Curfews in my other friend David's car on a roadtrip to Dallas. I never got it back, and was later informed that he listened to it constantly, much to the irritation of his girlfriend(s). And of course, there was that oh-so-sophisticated high school boyfriend who made me a mixtape with "Strange Fire" on it that was my first exposure to the band.

It's funny, though -- I've found myself thinking about a lot of things in the past lately (big life changing events will do that to you, I guess) -- and I wanted to post these two specific Indigo Girls songs for you -- which was kind of weird, really -- until a) realized how integral my Indigo Girls fandom was to my general transpottery state (more on that below) and b) I found out that they'd recently played a show here at Town Hall.

See, if it wasn't for my Indigo Girls fandom, I might not have discovered Kelly Hogan, who was a cohort of Amy Ray and Emily Saliers in the Athens scene back in the day, when she was the lead singer of The Jody Grind. And if I hadn't doggedly pressed people to listen to Kelly Hogan's long-forgotten solo album The Whistle Only Dogs Can Hear (released, perhaps not coincidentally, by Amy Ray's Daemon Records), it might have taken me a lot longer to discover her SBFF Neko Case. Which would have been sad, really.

Other favorites I discovered more or less via the Indigo Girls are the deceased Benjamin Smoke (Daemon Records also released albums from his bands Smoke and The Opal Foxx Quartet, check out the documentary directed by Jem Cohen about Benjamin's life if you can -- it's a lovely and sad film; Benjamin is also the subject of Kelly Hogan's song "Sugar Bowl"), John Wesley Harding (who also has a Kelly Hogan connection, she sang backup on his album Awake and they did that killer duet of "A Little Bit Country, A Little Bit Rock'n'Roll") and pre-Girlfriend Matthew Sweet (who was in a band with Michael Stipe's sister Lynda called Oh Okay in Athens; Oh Okay was a precursor to Magnapop -- remember them?). Good lord, why do I still know all this stuff? Anyway, I also must confess that the Indigo Girls discography was the first Web site I ever visited, with antiquated text-only browser Lynx -- ca. 1993. So, in a roundabout way, they're kind of also responsible for this blog. Oh, dear.

Anyway ... There was one summer when I was in high school (which was, oh, a billion years ago) that I wore out (literally!) a mix tape I'd made of the best (in my mind, anyway) bits of the Indigo Girls' rapidly burgeoning oeuvre. I remained a rather staunch fan until the release of Shaming of the Sun in 1996, when they kind of just lost me. In my mind, their last great release was the aforementioned double live album 1200 Curfews (1995), which just happens to be the album that launched the whole conversation chronicled above that spawned this entry. Another co-worker had caught that Town Hall show; I mentioned to her that I'd actually thought of going (because Town Hall is a great venue), but decided against it, since I hadn't listened to their albums in over a decade. She pointed out that most of the crowd at Town Hall that night probably hadn't either; they all seemed to be there solely to hear Amy and Emily to trot out the the oldies but goodies. Which makes me wonder, did they lose a lot of fans at that point in the mid-90's? I remember their last great LP, Swamp Ophelia (1994), created a lot of furor -- it was as if they'd simultaneously done a Dylan goes electric and a Melissa Etheridge-esque desexualization OR Lilith Fair-fueled in-your-face dykeing-up, depending on your POV -- and people were not happy. Now I'm wondering -- was that when they actually came out? I can't remember.

So anyway, I've been listening to 1200 Curfews all day with a sense of nostalgia -- their first five albums were great, but maybe I just outgrew them? Or they went off in a direction I couldn't follow? I'm still working on how that happened. Anyway, like I said, if it wasn't for them (and that weird, weird boyfriend), you probably wouldn't be reading this right now...

Indigo Girls -- Midnight Train to Georgia (live) (yes, a cover of Gladys Knight and The Pips' version)

Indigo Girls -- Thin Line (live) [my favorite, favorite, favorite song of theirs, I think.]

***

And now in a total 180, everyone come out to Bootie NYC, Vol. 2 tomorrow at Element (225 E. Houston), okay? We'll be there with our fancy shoes and party dresses on. Hells yes. Because the mashup isn't dead yet, and we've still got a whole lot of dancing to do. Featuring the sparkle-tastic dj skills of our fave Party Ben, A+D, and tons of others.

A plus D - Standing In The Way of Connection (The Gossip vs. Elastica)

Party Ben -- Every Car You Chase (Snow Patrol vs. The Police)

***

Also, I had dinner with renaissance man Matt LeMay at adorable Indian joint Dimple the other night (it was delish, thanks), and we talked about the New Get Him Eat Him record Arms Down and his upcoming 33 1/3 title about Elliott Smith's XO (I can't think of anyone better suited to write that one, except maybe ... me -- but I never finish my pitches!) To herald the release of Arms Down (June 5) and the band's summer tour, GHEH is releasing high-quality digital versions of their darling tour EPs for free for a limited time.

2007-03-24T02:59:00.000-04:00

Recap, finale. (That is, unless someone sends me some more over the weekend -- hint, hint stragglers.) I'm relatively certain that I have the best rolodex of people in bands who just also happen to be fantastic writers. Two of today's contributors, Peter Hughes of The Mountain Goats and Josh Strawn of Blacklist, are two of the finest examples of this phenomenon. They also happened to be SXSW virgins, which is doubly charming. Blogging veteran, tastemaker and SXSW veteran Dave Gutowski (aka Largeheartedboy) weighs in too.

Thanks again to everyone who contributed to this feature -- we hope you enjoyed it, dear readers. We're not sure if this is the year SXSW finally jumped the shark (what with that collapsing deck at the Elks Lodge and Damon Albarn shopping at Factory People and all), but we are sure it's pretty safe to say that we'll all be back for the fun next year.

Peter writes:

This was my first time. For years I'd listened to the stories, exactly half of them about how SXSW is the greatest thing ever and exactly half about how it is complete and utter hell to be avoided at any cost. In my normal life I tend toward misanthropy, introversion, and solitude, and I was inclined to trust the latter. I'm not sure if it says more about SXSW or my true nature that once I got down there, to paraphrase Sheryl Crow (whose set at the Cook's Illustrated/Claritin day party was a highlight), all I wanted to do was have some fun. But
that's what happened.

It helped that my only actual obligation -- our show at the 4AD night at Emo's -- was out of the way by Wednesday night. Unlike a lot of people I ran into, who had carefully prepared spreadsheets listing options and priorities for the week printed out onto micro wallet-sized cheatsheets for easy reference, I hadn't even looked at a schedule. Instead, I'd compiled a mental list of maybe a half-dozen friends I needed to hang out with, and I knew that I wanted to see Prisonshake on Friday night. Apart from that, I cast myself upon the winds of chance.

It worked out. I saw my friends. I saw Prisonshake. And I spent whole days in a giddy haze of alcohol, barbeque and music (add me to the list of people who were moved to tears by Shearwater's set at the church, by the way), and never once made it to bed before five in the
morning. Good times, on the whole.

I took my friend the consummate SXSW vet John Vanderslice's advice and left a day early, on Saturday. He'd said it would feel like getting away with a crime. Instead it felt like leaving a party too soon, but I'm still kinda glad I did, much as I hate to admit it. No matter:
I'll be back.

Peter Hughes, who is generally 1/2 of The Mountain Goats (unless they tour with a drummer, and then he's 1/3) , is a connoisseur of fast cars, New Order and BBQ.

Photo credit: Kathryn Yu

***

Dave writes:

Aside from one evening a couple of years ago, this was the first SXSW I have attended since I started Largehearted Boy. I have attended SXSW at least a dozen other times, but I was still surprised at how much the SXSW experience has grown. Day parties were everywhere, and often as interesting (and difficult to get in) as the showcases. Without a badge or wristband this year, finding a showcase in the evening was often nerve-wracking.

Since this was the first SXSW for me as a music blogger, the highlight was meeting the people I have met through my blog. Sure, I saw 38 bands in three days. Some blew me away, some disappointed, but the atmosphere and the opportunity to talk music in person with people whose opinions I have come to value over the years made the trip worthwhile for me.

Dave Gutowski IS largeheartedboy.

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Josh writes:

The coordinators of SXSW probably weren't setting out to confirm yet another niche in the proliferating field of musical nooks, but the lineaments of something like anthemicmelancholymajestic did converge this past week in Austin. Denmark's Mew sounds like Black Sabbath via Slowdive and Sigur Ros. Mark Burgess of the Chameleons UK is still making luscious, shimmering rock songs. 'Scott Walker: 30th Century Man' is a documentary about the godfather of the whole dark baroque shebang. It's all quite psychedelic really, even if the aura is more Svankmajer or Bergman than hashish and Haight Street.

If you've ever felt the undertone of sadness that comes with taking that leap into the unknown, you probably identify with the string swells of Scott Walker's 'Rosemary' or the synth and guitar washes of Mew's 'Am I Wry? No.' Mark Burgess prefaced a brilliant new track 'Beast' by explaining that the lyrics would reveal why he moved to Hamburg from Manchester--the refrain being 'I don't even know if I can make a stand anymore...' There was a sense of the journey and of its lifeblood in that confession of confusion. Mark is a bit greyer than some of his nubile festmates, but more convincing. That isn't to say that age equals vitality (as the Buzzcocks proved at their MTV Spring Break-esque performance) but only that, with a few exceptions, the kids and the grown-ups alike were missing something. (I had the privilege of sharing the stage with Burgess' new band, Bird, and I rate it as perhaps the peak moment in my musical career.)

Brian Eno, when interviewed for '30th Century Man' complained that Scott humiliates artists, since nobody's gotten past those early Talking Heads or Roxy records except for Walker. It was both humble and arrogant, but nevertheless all-too-true. Arrogance and narcissism are probably intrinsic to the process of making pop and rock records. The point isn't learning to be humble or selfless--the point is making the parts you stick out for the world to see matter. The point isn't innovation for innovation's sake--it's opening someone up. I have to say that, though I missed plenty of SXSW acts, the boys from Copenhagen, the gents from Hamburg and the fellow from Hamilton, Ohio shone like bright beacons through a muck of boring, fashion-driven rock and roll conformism.

On the sleeve of 'Scott 3' there is a quote from Camus: "A man's work is nothing but this slow trek to discover through the detours of his art, those two or three great and simple images in whose presence his heart first opened." At least a few artists at SXSW, both young and old, with pose and without, managed to touch on this for me, proving it isn't style or age--it's simply about making that trek. I suppose you only fall in love with possibility amidst a haze of stagnation--but a few times last week in Texas I did and it was pretty mind-bending.

Josh Strawn is the frontman of Blacklist and a recent graduate of the Eugene Lang College at the New School for Social Research in New York City, where he studied with the contrary Christopher Hitchens.

Photo credit: nariposa @ flickr.