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Sleater-Kinney make everything old new again in NYC

Sleater-Kinney returned triumphantly to NYC on their enormous reunion tour with a pair of sold out shows at one of the Manhattan’s largest venues called Terminal 5, their first shows in the area since a long series of “good-bye” shows in the mid-2000’s, and this time they made it clear that the fervor for their music had only swelled to epic proportion over their long absence. The greatest news of them returning was that it wasn’t just nostalgia, smugness, greed, nor ego that brought them or their fans back, it was simply a love of the music. All three of the original ladies are still leading the way for 90’s feminist rock: Corin Tucker and Carrie Brownstein on lead vocals and guitars, and Janet Weiss on drums as well as backup vocals, all still cranking as hard as ever with banshee intensity as though it were the mid-90’s all over again. It was back in 1994 when these three ferocious leading female rock icons first took the indie-music scene by storm, a time when I was working at a record store, and when I first threw their first two discs on and I knew I was in love with music all over again. Back then and every since then I’ve heard many say they were an essential driver of the whole grunge scene, but even back then I didn’t see them that way. Sure, they were from the fertile Pacific Northwest music scene (although it should be said they were from Olympia, NOT Seattle), but I felt (and still do) that they were more a spearhead of the fiery social ideal/issue-driven riot grrrl scene, even though that scene was kind of in its last throws at that point too. This was far more of a grass-roots third-wave feminism that was so sorely needed at that time of America’s social development (or disembowelment, depending on your perspective). The punk-rock feminist intensity of their music went beyond the typical cynically depressed melancholy of much of the cooler music bands of the time exploding from the previously public eye hidden alternative music scene. Still, even in their early stages, as aggressive and raw as they were, they had a catchiness to their music, one that did help push the alt-pop-punk scene push into the mainstream as they 90’s went on, which is the last time I saw them live which was in 1999 at Irving Plaza. They also continued pushing that growing pop appeal as they came into the 2000’s, kind of pushing a reunion in the mid-2000’s after a couple years of inactivity, but calling an official end in 2006. During their time away they certainly kept busy; Weiss joined Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks, Tucker went solo, and Carrie Brownstein formed a super-band called Wild Flag. I do feel as thought their sound, and their timely movement of music, has regained a certain respect in the music world these days, which has certainly hastened a reunification. Still, more than anything, it has probably been Brownstein’s cable comedy skit show Portlandia with SNL alumni and Pacific Northeast music enthusiast Fred Armisen that has gained more exposure to this wonderful band than anything else, and undoubtedly brought in a whole new crowd of largely younger fans to their music. Still, it came as a big surprise this last year when the three ladies released a single on Record Day, and this year released one of their most polished recordings to date, the LP No Cities to Love. Now they’re back out on the road and getting the ladies to scream and shout just as loud as the boys (if not way louder).

Sleater-Kinney at Terminal 5, NYC 2/26/15 - Photos and review by Dean Keim

Opening the show was Lizzo, the Detroit-born, Houston-raised, Minneapolis-based rapper/singer who’s been compared to the likes of Missy Elliot, Queen Latifah, and Salt ‘n’ Pepa for her fun-loving attitude and rapid-fire flow. Her DJ did a little riot girrrl-heavy set of 90’s classics, spit out in quick snippet fashion, which was neat and all, but really wasn’t what that scene was all about either, especially presented in such a “YOYOYO” fashion. Then, Lizzo, a drummer and her girls came out to a surprisingly accepting packed house. Normally I would really like her alternative hip hop zeal, and might not even mind her booty-shaking antics, but I really felt it didn’t mesh with what I thought the feel of the show have been. I mean songs like “Batches & Cookies” where they were obviously saying “bitches” not batches and all the silly self-deprecating antics really did not scream of the riot girrrl empowerment that I remember and made it all the more surprising they picked her for their opening act. Still, I can see why she does have a following and I certainly don’t want to diss her as she has a powerful energy all of her own. I caught the first of the two shows and the expansive Terminal 5 filled up quick, and I must admit, I heard my share of bitches about the place, complaints I had heard many times before: “there was no where to see the stage,” “it took forever to get there,” “the sound sucked from my vantage point,” or “the place was packed with Jersey meat-heads.” All of this can be very true for this one-time ship-building factory, turned roller disco, turned dance club, especially as it clearly was not really well designed for a live venue. True, there are three whole floors that look down on the stage to see the show from. The problem is that all the floors are flat, and if you don’t get close on the floor, or if you’re not 10 feet tall, your choices are limited, especially on the upper floors where you really can only see if your lucky enough to be on the very edge. Because it really wasn’t designed as a live venue, it can also be pretty dreadful for sound, with the sound from the stage bolting the mile up into the ceiling and then come crashing right back down onto the crowd like a sonic avalanche. Then, being all the way over near the West Side Highway in the remote section of town once called Hell’s Kitchen can make it a challenge to get to if you’re taking mass transit like most New Yorkers for sure. Still, it has been my experience that the place can be equally cool, if you make the effort to get there even slightly before doors, you can ensure at least a descent spot on the floor, which is what I did, getting right in the central pit, which safeguarded a good sightline and descent sound. The sound this night was good enough to at least give a quality sound close up, and the crowd close up were sure to be true fans and a nice mosh pit of young girls and lesbian couples who were there more to bop about, not to cause trouble and be all stupid. Overall, I must say this was one of the most fun shows I’ve ever seen. The stage set looked at first to be some sort of cool colorful stucco wall treatment, but after the stage lights lit it up in an abundance of color and fans blew it with waving bellows of wind, it showed to be many layers of torn fabric that wondrously flowed around the colorful breeze while still being hard and stark, much like their music. Their set proved to be still be driven by their idealistic ambitions with lots of pure ol’ rock n’ roll vigor, with Tucker and Brownstein blasting their fertile jittery guitar lines with joyous playfulness, and Ms. Weiss, who has been their drummer since 1997, kept the music rolling full-forward without missing a step. There was also a guest addition to the line-up in the form of Katie Harkin, who added some keyboards a guitars part from the shadowy recesses of the back stage, adding a real nice fullness to the overall sound and freeing Tucker to come out for a few songs guitar-less, especially later in the set, and be that real dominate frontwoman she always could have been, especially as her voice was more perfect and powerful than ever, and really come up close and personal with her audience like on “Gimme Love” which had the whole place chanting “Gimme respect! Gimme equality! Gimme love!” over and over at the top of their lungs. Most of all it clearly seemed as though they were really having fun playing together again, displaying ear to ear grins many times throughout among heavy rock n’ roll poses while bounding about the stage. They played nearly all of the newer songs from their new one,

No Cities to Love

, an album which some really love, and others seem to love to hate on, but I personally find to be one of their smoothest rides yet, confident and catchy, strident and strong, like the kick-ass Tucker-fronted title track and new Brownstein-helmed single “A New Wave” both of which came in mid-set and which I think may one of the strongest songs of their career. I don’t believe they played anything off their first two raw punk-driven anthem albums, but they did seem to play at least a few off of just about every other album they’ve done to date, like "One More Hour" from 1997’s

Dig Me Out,

or "Get Up" from 99’s

The Hot Rock

, or Youth Decay" and "You're No Rock n' Roll Fun"from one of my favs, 2000’s

All Hands on the Bad One

, or even "Oh!” or the charging march of the title track from ‘02’s

One Beat,

but it was 2005’s

The Woods

that had many of the sing-along favorites, like "Jumpers," "What's Mine Is Yours," or even the whimsical jangle of Brownstein’s lead on “Modern Girl” which was a gorgeous addition to a truly expansive encore of several classics finally concluding on a kind of sad note with “Dig Me Out” with that outpouring of emotion on those chorus lines “Oh God, let me in, there's nowhere else to go~ Oh God, let me in and let me go, go, go, go” Still, a glorious show, and one I will undoubtedly remember through the ages as a classic.

Clouder scorched with molten lava

There was a phenomenal show at one of my favorite chillaxed small venues of Williamsburg’s now dwindling number of smaller DIY spots called Bar Matchless, where the food and drinks are both tasty and affordable complete with a small outdoor smoking cul de sac, and in the comfy bench-lined dimly lit back-room stage space a performance of four of my favorite Brooklyn bands scorched the frigid outside temps from our bodies with some molten lava.

Back to your Clouder with Gunfight!, Crazy Pills, Mount Sharp at Bar Matchless, Brooklyn 1/29/15

Headlining the night was none other that the masters of a drunken debatcherous musical by the name of Clouder, who always seem to be able to effortlessly combine some of my favorite musical influences; from a spacey swagger of a 70’s Ziggy-era David Bowie, to a gravely howl of the 80’s Psychedelic Furs, to a punky Johnny Rotten snarl of the Public Image Ltd-era, and even a nicely thick soundscaped atmosphere blanket of modern bands like The Horrors. Sure, they do seem to bring together genres from punk, psychedelia, pop, and even goth, but they are no more than the sum of their parts, and their impressive line-up includes some real killer musical talents of today; from that cavernous voice of Eric Gilstrap, to the agile twist and swerve of Steve Spinella’s guitar, to the mountain of thunderous hum from Matt Revie’s guitar, to the always delightful bass bounce of Max Goransson (whom is truly one of the most amazing spirits I have ever been fortunate enough to know in my life), and, of course, Jim Wood whom is still just everywhere and yet just where he needs to be. Sure, they’ve come a long way since their debut with Freakin’ Out the Squares a few years ago, but as many of the members have moved on to other states, which had many of us fans have worried of them disbanding, but there have been no signs of that yet, and luckily for me, they often end up meeting in NYC these days. They do always send that party over the edge, with the audience pumping their fists into the air as Gilstrap always inevitably jumps into the beer-soaked crowd loosing himself in the moment. They also have new stuff, apparently they even have a new EP ready to release, but are just looking for labels, so someone grab them for dear life! If you haven’t heard their last release Sister Raygun, you absolutely need to get off your ass and boogie to it right now, as songs like the ‘60’s-inspired space rock of “Phantom Girl” and the 70’s glam-inspired “Lady Retrograde” are total modern classics and need to be appreciated, so get over to their bandcamp now if you know what’s best for you!

The evoltion of returning to perfection with Fleetwood Mac

You can emphatically say with great conviction that classic rock icons Fleetwood Mac have gone through their share of changes in the past. Even though the band has gone through more line-up changes than Menudo in it’s latino prime, there’s still one line-up that inspires more raging rock n’ roll hard-ons than Mick Fleetwood, John McVie, Lindsey Buckingham, Stevie Nicks, and, of course, the grand return of Christine McVie coming back together to comprise the epic and most definitive Mac that so many fans crave obsessively, the same line-up that saw them from the years 1975 through 1987, and, of course, through their largest album successes by far, including one of the most mega fruitful discs of all-time Rumors. To make the point of this ultimate delight from fans of this particular groupage, just early last year founding members Fleetwood and John McVie re-joined with Buckingham and Nicks to tour, and despite things like premiering new material and a huge stage set, they didn’t even sell out one night at NYC’s largest live venue Madison Square Garden. However, when just last year Christine McVie decided to pop on-stage with her former bandmates at one of their London shows, and, soon after, announced her permanent return to the band, they consequently sold out two consecutive nights at MSG in November and have just returned for another sellout pass through the Big Apple, much to my total glee.

Fleetwood Mac at MSG, NYC 1/22/15 review and photos by Dean Keim

Fleetwood Mac is, of course, the namesake of the rhythm section of drummer Mick Fleetwood and bassist John McVie, a name penned in 1967 by their first guitarist and frontman Peter Green as they formed out of the ashes of John Mayall's Bluesbreakers, and all through the late 60’s they gained a grand name for their explosive experimental British blues style. However, Peter Green experienced a Syd Barrett or Brian Wilson-esque LSD-induced schizophrenic breakdown in 1970 and the band began to transition into a new sound with John’s wife Christine McVie eventually joining the group on keyboards and vocals and continued to grow in influence as the band grew in membership and expanded in sounds that were a more rich multi-frontman band set-up. Still, the mid-70’s saw many internal shake-ups and didn’t really seem to stabilize until Fleetwood and the McVies were joined by a young California singing/songwriting couple whom had just released an impressive album of their own called Buckingham Nicks. The all-new grouping exploded the band back into relevance with their 1975 album Fleetwood Mac, which was their biggest commercial and artistic success by this point by leaps and bounds, but ironically led all of the couples in the group, the McVies, Buckingham/Nicks, and even Mick Fleetwood’s marriage, to splitting up, causing a new angsty, love-scorned edge to their music which led to their greatest sensation yet in 1977’s Rumors. Their follow-up, 79’s quirky double-disk Tusk was never my big favorite of this line-up's as I felt it kind of fell off the tracks with the individual members isolating themselves musically and could have been much better condensed to a one disc album in my opinion. However, 1982’s Mirage I think really regained that magic, as a softer and more harmonic whole piece, as it regained a more group-bound edge, as well as bringing them into the 1980’s sound magnificently. It took awhile to get all these creative geniuses back from their lucrative solo careers and working together again, but 1987’s more rhythmic and moving Tango in the Night still endures as one of my favorite of their albums. Buckingham soon after left the group in another in a long history of dramas, but was then replaced by a pair of blues-ier guitarists/singers that somehow landed them into a blander and more adult contemporary category. Oddly enough it was President Bill Clinton who got the Buckingham/Nicks/McVie/McVie/Fleetwood line-up back together for his first Inaugural Ball in 1993, but in large part, the band wandered through a few more team-ups before calling it quits for several years, until finally getting themselves for an all-hands-on-deck reunion tour again in 1997. Still, a new album was not in the making as Christine McVie decided to retire from touring altogether citing a general fear of flying as the main reasoning. Nonetheless, they attempted to go on sans- Christine with the 2003 album Say You Will, which sadly fell short for many Mac fans. Still, since as early as 2006 there had been rumblings of a new album and tour, still none of which started coming to fruition until just a couple years ago when they started touring as four-piece again and released an EP of demo-like compositions as well. Still, when Christine announced she was back, I think everyone started feeling as though this was a whole new ballgame.

Now I am a music-lover who rejected a lot of classic rock as a youngster, as I felt classic rock stations were pretty much shoved down your throat as a teen, as pretty much the only other option for radio music besides blah pop stations at that time, especially in small-town Ohio where we could only barely get one decent college radio station on the radio from Cincinnati, which is probably where I fell in love with punk and alternative as a result. However, the Mac was really one of the only bands of that huge genre not to get such harsh judgment and dismissal from that angsty teenage me. For one reason or another, I just fell for their dark and tortured love song scenario, and was hooked early. I did get to see them once while I was living in Colorado at Red Rocks Amphitheater, but it wasn’t that afore-mentioned classic line-up, and I think it only mildly impressed me. Much to my delight, I did get to see this awesome group on their last time through at MSG, and needless to say, I was blown away. Since that show there has been word of a new album in the works and an extended reunion, so I was excited to possibly hear new songs this time, but alas that was not to be. This was, in fact, the same show and set as the last time they came through, but I still could not have been in more of a state of bliss (especially as I had much better seats!). The stage was once again huge in proportion, but gorgeously designed. Built around a mega-sized screen backdrop where they would have cool imagery play as they played, I must say, they had a perfect environment for the Mac. Only a couple times during the show would it get to the point I would say it was overblown visually, like on the quirky graphics complete with disembodied Lindsay head to “I Know I'm Not Wrong,” or the cool melting and twisting city visuals to “World Turning.” Mostly, the visuals chosen were more understated and mellowing, with lots of gorgeous and mystical nature visuals like that on “Everywhere,” and night/Moon images for “Sisters of the Moon,” or even Saturn’s stripes on “Over My Head,” or even rather regal gothic iconography for “Seven Wonders.” It was all clearly designed to bring the whole group together, much like the shows themselves.

The Psychedelic Furs makes nostalgia look new again

The Butler brothers have returned to selling out venues everywhere as the 80’s icon rockers The Psychedelic Furs verified their longevity as one of the most unlikely enduring chameleon success stories of rock. It really is stunning that a band that hasn’t released an original album since 1991 can still pack the concert spots with die-hard fans like these guys do, but they did just that as they passed through NYC last week, selling out two of the nicest mid-sized venues in town, the Highline in Manhattan and then the Music Hall of Williamsburg in Brooklyn, which is where I caught up with them.

Spacing out with Eastern Hollows at Cameo

This was to be a night of a trio of my favorite local bands at the strange backroom venue behind a crammed bar/restaurant in Williamsburg’s always-trendy N. 6th called Cameo Gallery. Once in the back room it is rather spacious, with it’s now-iconic artsy light-fixture chandelier glowing like a strange alien looming over these awesome bands as they jammed away.

Couples therapy with the Vaselines in Brooklyn

“Thank you for coming out to see our couples therapy session,” said Eugene Kelly of The Vaselines towards the end of their set, and that pretty well summed up their show on Friday. It was a surprisingly funny concert, full of a strongly dark Scottish humor. It all went down at one of Brooklyn’s most remote and yet enduring live venues in NYC known as the Bell House. Converted from a huge 1920’s-era printing press hub, this show pad has been cranking out the rock shows for several generations now in this off-the-beaten track in the more warehouse/industrial-heavy area near the Gowanus Canal on Brooklyn’s most Western edge. Once inside, you are treated to one of the finest bars in the borough, and a large backroom stage with another vast bar, a barn-like steeple ceiling, and lots of exposed brick walls. It was an apt setting for what was sure to be an amazing night.

Of course, the main course for the night was The Vaselines, a only very briefly active band from the late 80’s formed around the singing/songwriting duo of then-couple Eugene Kelly and Frances McKee; whom, along with a rhythm section, formed in 1986, released a couple of EPs that did manage to get a little of the then infant indie industry notice, especially for a darkly altsy-folksy duo from Glasgow, but just after releasing their first LP Dum-Dum in ’89 which did have some break-through potential, they split up, and probably would have been largely been forgotten the annals of indie-rock history had it not for the garage rock band that virtually single-handedly exploded the indie music scene into mainstream consciousness in the early 90’s by the name of Nirvana, who covered at least three of their classic songs on their B-sides compilation Incesticide and on stage on a couple official releases and received endless praise from their frontman Kurt Cobain. With all the new attention and a giant new flock of devotees especially after the release of a superb compilation known as The Way of the Vaselines was released on the ultra-cool Sub-Pop label, you would have predicted they would have jumped on the indie gravy train, but it was quite a surprise that it took them nearly 15 years to get back to action together, and in 2006 they started playing gigs together again and finally released a second truly impressive album Sex With an X in 2010. They’ve been at it every since and even have another new offering to the indie gods V for Vaselines. This time they come packing a new backing band, drummer Michael McGaughrin, guitarist Scott Paterson, and bassist Graeme Smillie, who all provided a slickly strong back bone sound to the duo’s rawly delicious harmonies and bantering antics, even though they all appeared to be young enough to be their children. During one of the funniest improvised outburst humor portions of the show which continued throughout the set as both seemed to always say exactly what they were thinking at any moment with no filter, no matter lewd it may be, was when Frances McKee was making light of her “baby boy bassist” Graeme, and then someone from the audience yelled out “HOT MOM!” to which she blushed a bit and to which Eugene Kelly responded “Don’t say that to her while you have your cock in her mouth, I learned the hard way she doesn’t like that.” Wow! And that one just one of the many darkly funny Scottish ex-lover banter moments of the night, but paints how close to the bone they could cut sometimes. Still, by the end of the show Eugene was confessing that even though he apparently found Frances in the gutter, she was in fact the one that save him. Awwww.

Veda Rays bring on the heat waves at The Shop

I found an escape from the frigid weather last week at a new(ish) Bushwick venue called The Shop that apparently serves as an active motorcycle garage and BBQ restaurant as well as music stage and bar. Having only opened up before the holidays this last year, they are clearly still working out the space, as you still enter through a side residential/industrial-type entrance in a very DIY style, but once you’re in, you experience an expansive open area, with a long cash-only and fairly well stocked bar, side booth expanses for when they serve food crowds and tables that are comfy, and charmingly adorned with rows of choppers and cycles flanking both sides of a tall stage area that has a giant American flag as the backdrop. At first, you might almost forget where you are and think you’re back out West at some giant backwater BBQ/bar joint and not in the middle of the giant mecca of the East. Still, it really did serve to present a splendid space for a fun rediscovery concert; being re-introduced to a couple bands I have seen several times before and a couple who are brand new to me.

Dean's List top 20 albums of 2014

2014 was quite a year for music, but I do empathize how it can all be so confusing for those you who don't listen to music as much as someone like myself. So, don't become one of those sad people who say there is no good music anymore, and just sit back to relax for a spell and let me recount some of the past year's highest musical blessings.

My Fav Concert Pics of 2014

A selection of my favorite concert photos of 2014~

The exotic flavors of Blonde Redhead return to NYC

Blonde Redhead, the native NYC trio that all but re-defined the dreamy mid-90’s shoegaze genre and helped carve out the new dreampop sound of the early 2000’s, has returned to their home ground to celebrate their first album in four years called Barragán, and I attended the first of their four sell out shows at the LES’ premiere mid-sized venue The Bowery Ballroom. I made sure to get in early to get a good spot next to the stage, because to see these three weave their mysterious musical fabric is truly something to behold.

Tame Impala flies high at NYC's Beacon Theatre

Australia’s premiere psychedelic outfit by the name Tame Impala brought it’s gloriously mindboggling stage show to NYC for a pair of sold out shows to the delight of fans. This was my first Tame show (the second night), although I have been a big fan of their albums for years. It’s crazy to think, but only a couple years ago they were playing the relatively tiny Webster Hall, for which I was supposed to go to but had a girl problem happening, and ended up missing it, but since then just last year they had a sold out three-night stand at the much bigger Terminal 5 (for which I had an injured leg so I couldn’t go that time). So, this was certainly an event a long time in coming, and I am glad it ended up being at The Beacon Theatre, one of the finest venues in NYC, a decadently ornate classic opera house on the Upper West Side of Manhattan with one of the most pristinely angelic sound qualities I have ever heard at any venue, both qualities that compliment themselves perfectly to this band that continues to prove themselves one of the most fascinating and richly musical treasures of modern rock.

They came out to projections of heady trip-inducing patterns, colors, and animations bathing themselves on the band before heading through space and landing safely on a surface of the huge screen behind them. They played a majority of both albums in their set and it felt like most of their most popular tracks were played fairly early on, but every track is instantly familiar to any casual listener, as all their songs are so damned memorable. A newer song “Be Above It” kicked things off in a properly spaced-out manner, and then one of my big favs, and “Why Won't They Talk To Me,” which spelled out how to me how the band’s songs have grown simultaneously to the personality of the individual behind them. The drum solo that carried the audience into orbit with probably their most recognized rocker “Elephant” definitely has grown from its aggressive stripped-down studio original to a mammoth full-band five-stage rocket jam, that, according to Kevin, made it into Rolling Stone’s top 100 songs about pachyderms, which may or may not have been a joke. “Endors Toi” had such a supreme sound it not only felt as though you had hi-fi headphones on, with gusts of sound orbiting extremely close to your head, and with a nice hand clap portion that brought it back down to Earth in the most heroic fashion imaginable. The next track is one of the only ones I didn’t recognize, called “Oscilly,” it sounded like a drum symphony, wherein the drums conquered a planetary-sized synthy instrumental to be performed solely by the drummer. The big highlight for me was a shimmering version of “Half Full Glass of Wine” from their first album always takes over the senses and jets me out to an interstellar view. They even took time out to play a new instrumental jam, which sounded as though it was a jazz bass-driven airy Tangerine Dream piece, and so very spacey good, especially as it flowed into the driving rhythm and mind-bending harmony that was in full effect on “Alter Ego,” that it all got that kick-started jam going stronger and stronger to the point of total orgasm.

The Epic Journey that was the 2014 CMJ Festival

The CMJ Festival is an annual event that takes over America’s largest city New York in a major way. CMJ actually stands for College Music Journal (originally College Media Journal), a publisher that used to release several different titles revolving around the college music scene starting in the later 70’s. Now, of course, it is largely a web-based music/events media company, but since the early 80’s they throw a big party in NYC every year, where music shows are thrown all over town at multiple venues, all accessible via one pass, making it one of the oldest festivals of it’s kind in the country. Of course it has expanded radically over the last several years, especially with the success of similar festivals like SXSW in Austin, TX, and now involves many more venues, many more bands, many bigger names as well, not to mention films and conferences that expanse the entirety of the full five days of festivities at locations all across all five boroughs from the tiniest DIY holes to the largest grandiose venues, all of which this city has in spades. This is first time I have covered the full fest in a couple of years, but I felt ready for the endless late nights of huge drunken crowds, loud music, and scrambling from venue to venue, but I also knew from previous experience that it filled all of those secret obsessions that music freaks and audiophiles like myself know all to well~ it is actually quite fun to day drink and going from show to show all day long is actually quite fun, both of which of which are frowned upon, or at least considered strange by many, but for these five days are considered perfectly normal, and even embraced.

My first day of CMJ started at a reasonable hour after work, but did begin with a real bang. At an early evening show at the premiere LES small stage called the Mercury Lounge there was an impressive double bill playing. Olga Bell opened the show, and even before the show I knew I recognized the name, and after seeing the alluring blonde beauty take her place behind her keyboard setup I finally placed her. She had joined the mega-group Dirty Projectors a couple years back, and I actually had heard her recent release done entirely in her native Russian language called Krai, but I hadn’t put the two together until afterwards. Her performance this eve was a delightful combination of electronic sounds and beats as well as bewitching harmonies and lyrics (that were all in English). From her high octaves to deep moans as well as from her cavernous mellowing atmospheres to catchy electro-beats, she really displayed her diverse range, even switching to a variety of various instruments to acclimate her sounds to her mesmerizing visions, and her slow wistful cover of Weezer’s “Buddy Holly” also didn’t hurt in the crooning department. I also found out later that Olga actually collaborates beats and vocals with the show’s headliner Tom Vek, and that certainly made sense sound-wise, as they do share a love of the elctro-experimental, and I somehow missed they had a group together recently called Nothankyou. I knew of Tom Vek largely through his sophomore 2011 Leisure Seizure album, which I still totally adore, and sadly had to miss a show a few years back I had tickets to, thusly I have been very hungry to see him on stage ever since. He has a new album called Luck, which at this point, I had just picked up and hadn’t really absorbed yet, but is already on track to be one of my favs of the year. It does seem clear that this modern British alt-rock genius has evolved over the last decade, as he started off sounding much more like a post-punk combination of Elvis Costello and Weezer (and no, that’s not because of Tom’s dark frame glasses, but more for his witty, catchy, and whimsical lyrical sense), and now he has made an evolution to a more experimental dance-pop sound, which still totally works for this savy multi-instrumentalist, especially with his ever-impressive talent for other-worldly time-changes, beats, and catchy vocal hooks. Still, Vek’s post-punk leanings really become much more evident on stage, and his boyish charm, relaxed stage banter, and his wacky David Byrne motions made his music even more appealing live, especially on moments like when he got so loose during his slamming groove of “Pushing Your Luck” he even broke into a Salt-N-Pepa “Push It” groove. It was all very impressive, and I must say now, both rank high on my list of artists everyone should listen to now and often from CMJ.

The headliner I had come to see was an English band called The Horrors, whom I only saw once previously several years ago, just as they had made the leap from dark British-styled gothy garage punk rock band that turned many heads on their debut LP Strange House in 2007 to the super deeply atmospheric art rock/krautrock band that turned even more heads on their 2009 album Primary Colours, an evolution largely attributed to the synthy soundscapes of producer Geoff Barrow of Portishead. After that, they continued their artsy-fartsy evolution with 2011’s Skyling, and now with their newest called Luminous, where they seemed to have drifted into a truly dreamy love song synth-pop sea that even gets pretty damned dancy at points. It’s quite an accomplishment to make a metamorphosis from a strangely gloomy Joy Division, Doors, Clash, Strokes mélange to a spaced-out trippy Roxy Music, Pink Floyd, Cure, Stone Roses bouillabaisse and still not offend or turn off your hardcore fans, and the Horrors have managed to do it in a style all their own. Frontman Faris Badwan admitted this was the very last show of their long tour, and although they may have looked a bit ragged, perhaps a bit weary after their first album and full tour for a few years, but guitarist Joshua Hayward kept things upbeat with some serious reserve energy, keyboardist and synthesizer player Tom Cowan kept the atmospheres thick and hearty, and bassist Rhys Webb with drummer Joe Spurgeon kept the beats charging through the thick soup of stage smoke, starting off with a couple new tracks “Chasing Shadows In” and “Out of Sight” which felt a bit more rocked out than their studio originals, then a couple of my favs from their second, “Who Can Say” and a stripped down and slightly shorter “Sea Within a Sea,” then a couple off their third, before moving back to more of the new. I must say it was kind of disappointing that they didn’t delve into anything off their first LP, but perhaps they finally just feel they’ve moved on, or perhaps floated off on their own cloud. The sound may have been a bit more stripped down than I had expected, but it was still a lush arrangement and a great cap to the first night.

Day two started off early, with a day showcase put on by Never Better who supplied free pizza and beer at a classic LES venue I had not been to for quite some time called Arlene’s Grocery. The show started with a British band definitely poised to break into the stratosphere, or at least they deserve to, by the name of PAWS. They produce a boisterous punk brew poured straight from the heart, with emotional lyrics and a bouncy beat; rather punk, and somewhat pop, but definitely rock n’ roll, like a Weezer intoxicated by Green Day. They have a sophomore album out called Youth Culture Forever which has been on repeat play for me for the last few months and should be in everyone’s ears. I did jump around the corner afterwards to catch Literature at the upstairs room at Piano's for the Kanine Records (amazing label BTW) showcase. They got over some serious telecaster problems early on and still rocked a great set. They also have an impressive sophomore album called Chorus that strikes as more of an 80’s alt-rock guitar band, like an REM harmony mixed with a skittering Feelies beat. Then, I went from the attic to the basement a couple doors down at the Cake Shop to catch a favorite local band called Field Mouse. Headed up by the amazing musical mind and voice of vocalist and guitarist Rachel Browne and her partner in crime Andrew Futral, and the duo produce some truly sublime tunes. They had been dreamy reverb-tinged guitar pop trio until a year or so ago when they expanded to a four-piece with Saysha Heinzman on bass and Tim McCoy on drums, and the fuller line-up does help the music swell into spacey zones that go well beyond the sweetly harmonic breakup songs of many of their previous releases. Their new full-length called Hold Still Life has a very wide group-composed fullness to launch you into outer space with, and I suggest you use it to trip out to as soon as you can. Then I made it back to Arlene’s for some southern-fried rock with Lee Bains III & The Glory Fires who rocked the gospel of love lost, swimming holes, and stock car races, all with a dash of Clash and a whole lotta Drive-By Truckers and Waylon Jennings. Next was a whole different kind of band called PINS. This incredibly impressive all-girl Manchester quartet mix all the greatest qualities of the 70’s Blondie glamour, The Go-Go’s 80’s party sound harmony, a touch of the badassness of the 90’s Bikini Kill riot grrrl rockatude, and even a more recent Dum Dum Girls-type strut, all served in a very distinctively cool British manner. They have a VERY awesome album out called Girls Like Us released on the VERY awesome record label Bella Union, and I advise playing it a lot, and then seeing them live to watch Faith, Anna, Lois, and Sophie strut their bad-ass ‘tude and you won’t regret falling in love with them as well. Next was the Cincinnati trio Tweens, who sprawl out what they call trash pop, and although to me it has a poppy bounce and some trashy talk, but mostly they are a very lean and direct post-punk rock outfit, singing about the dirty side of Ohio (which I hail from as well) and all those silly Midwest crushes in a way you would not expect from a band with a name like Tweens, especially since none of them are of that preadolescent demographic. Singer and guitarist Bridget Battle is a true spit fire, whipping her hair around as she roars through a massive adrenaline shot from a driving rhythm section of drummer Jerri Queen and bassist Peyton Copes. They can hold their own against beer-swilling punks and even amaze when opening for The Breeders (which is where I was originally introduced to them), but never try to pigeonhole them, as they are bound to surprise you. Their self-titled debut is definitely worth crushin’ on, so just go out and get it!

After that, I jumped on the train in a drenching downpour and headed over to Williamsburg, Brooklyn’s Knitting Factory for a packed show at the Panache Booking Showcase, for a band I had been anticipating for a long, long time. As I came in a lone guy with a guitar and a sound machine popped on top of a stool was playing some very strange music indeed. It turns out that guy was Guy Blakeslee who heads up a very respected experimental outfit called Entrance. On his own though he lays out some very off-putting beats and loops via pre-recorded mini-synths and a laptop, around which he spins some fidgety and jumbled vocals and wiry guitar wrappings. As I watched him preform, I found myself wanting to like his music more, but honestly, it came off to me as ostentatious and unnerving, and I was glad when it finally came to an end. Then there was a band that totally got my good vibes going and fried all the moisture from my soaked clothes. The all-girl Japanese punk trio Shonen Knife came out to rousing applause and a packed house all ready for a truly rare rock n' roll treat. This is a band I have been waiting to see for at least half of my life, as they have been rocking the punk scene since the early 80’s, making them true rock icons in their own right. Yes, their sound does have a definite cute-Asian-girl pop veneer, full of songs about food and cats, which in itself is not a bad thing, especially when underneath it proves to be a monster, also crushing songs about demons and monster robots, and their stripped down punk/garage/new wave sound has proven itself to be a defining figure of the alternative rock evolution on both sides of the Pacific for the last few decades. I’ve had one of their earliest albums, 1983’s Burning Farm, since my first year of college, but have picked up several more of their vast catalogue over the years, and I must say, they just keep getting better. Lead singer and guitarist Naoko Yamano is the only remaining original member, but despite her truly outrageous skills, she never seems to hog the spotlight on stage to long, as she left lots of room for newer members (both of which have been in the mix for at least the last several years) to stretch out and show off, as bassist Ritsuko Taneda proved to be the true spitfire of the troop, burning a beat trail burning hell into bass nirvana as she whipped her long raven locks around like a hurricane emanating from her head, and drummer Emi Morimoto at times seemed to resurrect the ghost of Keith Moon himself as she beat those skins with such ferocity at times you would think they were made of concrete as she was drilling straight through them, all the time with the cutest smile. A perfect example is when they played a few songs off their newest album called Overdrive (just go get it, because it is the realz cray-cray), which they described as being inspired by mid-70’s hard rock, and was also where bassist Ritsuko Taneda sang "Ramen Rock," drummer Emi Morimoto sang "Green Tea," (both of which left you starving for more) and then Yamano cranked out "Like A Cat" complete with Black Sabbath-style guitar roaring slashes, so they all had their mic time. They also played many others from their wealth of albums like “Pop Tune,” “Bear Up Bison,” and “Bad Luck Song,” all of which got everyone bopping around like Tiggers on their tails and had the packed steamy room feeling and looking like a classic punk show back in the early 80’s complete with a happily swirling mosh pit in the middle. My fav moments were when they played a cover of “Blitzkrieg Bop” from “our favorite NYC band” who were the Ramones of course (of which SK had once actually formed a cover band of) and a fiery version of “Flying Jelly Attack,” both of which I even got out moshing for. It was a short set, just over 30 minutes I think, but it was pretty impressive how many songs they could fit in that time, as well as how many hand devil horns they raised to the air, how many times they stood back to back head-banging as they shredded, and how many times they ended up jumping up to the edge of the stage to hold out their instruments to the crowd, for which even drummer Emi got into on the final song, bringing out her cymbal stand to the front and dipping it in the audience for people to ping and crash. It was the last of their North American dates (of 34 dates according to Naoko) and one of those kind of shows that remind you of why you love rock, and especially seeing concerts in general.

Day three of CMJ also started off early, with another free daytime showcase at Cake Shop for everyone to enjoy in the basement stage lit by Christmas lights, using tinsel as a backdrop and egg crate foam as the sound insulation, cheap drinks, excellent coffee, cake and pastries (of course), and a killer vinyl sale selection, put on by NYCTaper, NY’s premiere concert archival service, and a truly superior source for show freaks like myself. First up was a band I fell for years back and I still love with all my heart today. Their name is Beach Day and they hail from Hollywood, FL, and although they have lots of alt-surf-punk-rock bounciness, they clearly hold court closer to a 50’s/60’s girl-group era, one between doo-wop harmony, an early R&B swing, and a Phil Spector wall of harmonic beauty. Listening to their music summons all the classics back to you, from The Shangri-Las, to The Ronettes, to the Shirelles, to the Supremes, and even Ike and Tina, to name just a few, and they seem to do it all in their own way which somehow doesn’t even come off as dated or passé. Frontwoman Kimmy Drake is enthrallingly charismatic whether she’s wooing you with her ample pipes or roaring with a killer guitar solo, and she’s backed by a truly impressive and expansive band. They have a variety of releases under their belt, including one of my favorite albums of the last few years Trip Trap Attack and a brand new full-length called Native Echoes, and I suggest you just get them now if you know what’s best for you. Whiskey Bitches was next, and they were a hoot as you would imagine by their name. The Bushwick trio is headed up by two ladies, Madge & Kate, both sport an aptly raunchy ‘tude, some good ol’ party it down tunes, and with the guy drummer Eli holding down a serious drum drive, they do kick out the jam. After that was Prettiots, who are a young all-girl trio who definitely break the mold, dressed in school girl outfits and sporting badass tattoos and tudes, you would expect them to sound quite different than the ukulele-powered bluegrass pop they play, but as they yodeled, shyly crooned, and really let out a mournful moan that cries of a soul far beyond their age, they really did show a special talent, and I had to admit Kay Kasparhauser, Rachel Trachtenburg, and Lulu Prat come off far less cheekily than you’d expect. Rivergazer was up afterward, and they were a band I was really anticipating seeing but was sadly pretty disappointed with. I had heard a couple songs of theirs I really liked, but the jam never really seemed to lift off, and the full sound they are capable of clearly failed them this show, but then again, there are always those off sets, which aren’t always all they can be even for really talented bands. Amanda X was a band I knew all to well that would kick ass, and sure enough, they delivered yet again. The Phili girl power trio of Cat Park, Tiff Yoon, and Kat Bean have a great strut as they drive through righteously heavy shreds as well as they swoon through ethereal harmonies. Their new LP Amnesia was just dropped and I suggest this one too, especially if you like the 90’s girl-rock sound of Sleater-Kinney, Breeders, and the Muffs.

Next, I made the trek through Chinatown, getting some tasty dumplings along the way, to get to the LES’ first-class mid-sized venue the Bowery Ballroom (all Bowery CMJ stuff they will sell a certain number of tickets and only let in a certain amount of badge wearers, so it’s better to be safe than sorry and get there early) to get in line for what was sure to be one of the supreme moments of the whole festival. Once the show started Slothrust was the first band up, and I have been fortunate to catch them a couple times already, and I must admit, each time is downright amazing. The lead singer and guitarist Leah Wellbaum is one of those talents that’s hard not to marvel at. She is witty and silly just as much as deep and soulful, a tough dynamic to pull off, and she does it with total and honest beauty. With a kick-ass rhythm section forged in a jazzy and bluesy fire of drummer Will Gorin and bassist Kyle Ban the songs also have rock teeth, and they can certainly bite. The Nuns followed and I wasn’t quite as crazy about them, but they still had power and verboseness, so I won't hate. Their music seemed a bit more of the party rock sound, and the head man Hank Hanewinkel III strikes me as having a kind of southern-rock twang, and probably appeals to a lot of people, and not surprisingly they come from Oklahoma. I must say I liked them best when he’d wail out a good break up song. Moon Duo was next, and I had already seen them open for the Horrors, and once again they provided a super-spacey set, and were again great to trip out to. The headliner for the show was none other than The Kills, the duo of singer Alison Mosshart and guitarist Jamie Hince who have been carving out their reputation in the indie rock world for over a decade now, and their unique form of artsy blues garage rock has evolved vastly over the span of four albums, although they seem to be more widely known for their appearances on soundtracks and side projects like Alison’s run with Jack White in the group Dead Weather or Hince marrying Kate Moss. Nonetheless, they are still a band that could easily command a stadium-sized setting, so seeing them here is one of those really special occasions you just have to relish. As Alison exclaimed during her set, “It’s really nice to be back here at Bowery Ballroom. It certainly has been a long time.” It certainly has, although the only time I can find they played here was when Alision had played there with Dead Weather in 2009. Things certainly have changed over the years for these two, coming from the bizarre low-fi garage country-blues sound peppered with surreal and dark sound effects to the electro-fied hard pop sound they have now, but this night, with a sparse but powerful twosome kettle drummers pounding away as their sole backing, their sound seemed thrown back to its core, to the spirit of Patti Smith, The Velvet Underground, PJ Harvey, and yes, even The White Stripes, raw and wild. Alison is a true force of nature, with her long slender legs stretching across the stage age she took over the wide floor with her overwhelming presence, pacing and circling madly about as she worked herself into a hellfire frenzy and then belting out some great songs, although centering on some of their far less known tracks, but certainly many of my favorites like “Black Balloon,” “Kissy Kissy,” “Satellite” and “No Wow.”

Next, I popped on over to another basement small stage on the LES called Leftfield, and once getting down to the grimy cavern bar I found myself in the middle of a very surreal event. I actually figured out it was not a CMJ event, but appeared to be some sort of birthday party that had run late, and a very uninhabited band by the name My Left Tit was playing and to say they were wild is an understatement. With songs like “Sometimes I Have Lesbian Sex” and “I Found My Clit in Paris,” you get an idea of the wackiness of this band consisting of a few frontwomen and several backing musicians with stage names like Pussy Face, Regina Vagina, Boozy McFloozerson, Queef Latina, and Titty Titty Bang Bang. I didn’t consider them vulgar at all, as it was clearly all in good humor, and they are actually quite a blast to witness, so don’t be afraid to dance to them sometime. The actual show, called Louisiana CMJ Showcase was to feature a number of my favorite local bands, and I was sure not to miss dancing always with lots of good friends and vibes in this dark cavern. The Meaning Of Life, and I do heart them so. The trio consists of the angelic bassist and frontwoman Marta DeLeon, the dreamy guitars of Christian St-Gallo, and a progish drum push by Sanal Sunny Leejean provide a nicely exotic mixture. They recently released a very impressive EP Play Fuego and have a few other tidbits to tide you over, but for those hungry ones like me, they do have some new stuff in the works and their cover of The Cure’s “Just Like Heaven” with make you shiver. pow wow! followed and are no joke as they are simply one of the best bands on the scene. Built around the harmonizing brothers Edward and Jeff, the first plays guitar and the latter plays keys, and the both switch off frontman duties, along with one of those just downright great drummers Sal and Manny on bass. Their full-length LP Don't Stop To Look was just released a couple years ago and still holds up as one of the best local releases in my entire time living here. It’s catchy, but not to pop to crunch some post-punk, and still manages to get a bit of a happy country hoedown swing in there even along side some starker Velvet Underground-type swoon, especially on one of their new tracks that really engrossed me. After that was Crazy Pills, a band where Eddie switched from lead guitar-man to bass-man and Amanda B takes over as cranking guitar virtuoso and frontwoman with Mr. Awesome aka Jim Wood on drums. This band puts the power in trio with Amanda’s whipping guitar antics and overwhelming power to command a song, she makes a swing all her own, a bit like a classic early Elvis hip-swinging rocker and a bit like a a Pretenders catchy roar, they forge their own path, and it’s a sound to be admired. Their recent full-length Restless is also one of those truly stunning local releases that deserves to be heard by everyone, with track after track of classic. They too have new stuff in their set so~ giggity! The Teen Age followed, and this Brooklyn band has a bit more of the classic wacky driving punk sound but their new EP Ways To Adapt is quite accessible, fun to bop around to, and actually quite catchy.

CBGB returns to NYC with the 3rd Annual CBGB Fest

For the third year in a row, the CBGB Music & Film Festival has taken over NYC. In its latest incarnation it has grown from a one-day event to a several day sequence of shows, films, and talks held at venues across Manhattan and its boroughs. Yes, as a concert fanatic who actually does remember seeing shows at the original down and dirty dive of a music venue on the LES, a pad that has been closed since 2006, it does still seem odd and somewhat perverse that CBGB has become more of a brand name and less about the raw, aggressive, and perverse punk scene of the late 70’s that nurtured its rise in this country, in part, because of brave venues like this CBGB. Despite the hypocrisy of turning a bar whose bathroom alone has gone down in history as one of the most vile places on Earth into a family-friendly name brand, the first four of the five days in the festival do take on smaller venues and center on unsigned & minor label acts that does stay true to the credo of the original spot that got famous mostly off of giving young bands a place to kick it off at.

On the forth night I took in a show at one of Williamsburg’s finest backroom venues called the Cameo Gallery, behind an excellent, albeit cramped bar/restaurant that opens into an expansive back room with a long descending chandelier constructed of hanging strands of cloth lit up by undulating colors from a movie projector. Opening was a three-piece We Ride On, who had a Fugazi-like post-hardcore sound with driving rhythms and blaring sonic leads. Next was another of my favorite local bands called Crazy Pills fronted by guitar virtuoso Amanda B. (formerly of Adolescence, Nakanaka Yaru Na, and Yamamba), bassed by Edward Anthony (who fronts another local fav called pow wow!), and drummed by the incomparable Jim Wood (who, as I mentioned, is in Clouder, amongst many other outfits). Together the trio has a sort of classic 13th Floor Elevators garage rock rawness, mixed with a Ronnie Spector doo-wop pop, and a rockabilly swing, that merges so perfectly and effortlessly with a girl power punk rock esthetic. Despite Amanda having a slight cold, the set was totally awesome as always, especially when she roared with both body and soul, playing material from their first album Restless, but are also trying some new stuff, which has me pretty excited. and even threw in a perfect cover of a rock oddity called “Mr. Pharmacist” originally by the band The Other Half and had all the strut and unexpected burning jam you would expect. Next was Haybaby, who is yet another local fav flav, and this trio who also has a ferocious female lead and guitarist is born from a more molten blend of earthshattering metal-punk that among the tortured wails of Leslie Hong or the haunting rhythms of Sam Yield and Mike Lande could not produce a more evocative and spine-tingling sound. The night was actually a single release for another band called Ceramics a very direct hard rock with guitarist/vocalist Sascha Gray, drummer Ray Dellamura, and bassist Joe Mastracchio who played behind a thick wall of stage smoke. The very cool “Begin Stomach” single will be followed by a full-length release at the end of November, so stay tuned!

The last day of the CBGB Fest was indeed the big finale that would stretch the whole idea of a “punk festival,” especially as it was held in the middle of the capitalist decadence of Times Square in Midtown Manhattan. However, with two stages and tons of great bans I wanted to see; who can complain where it was, no matter what the context? Midnight Mob was the first band up, and they supplied a generous helping ol’fashioned hard rock, especially seasoned for a mob only around since 2009. Overall, their music and on-stage presence reminded me of a classic Cheap Trick type rock outfit with a 50’s greaser frontwoman in the purist stylings of Ronnie Spector, along with some stretches of machine gun drumming and Motorhead-type furious but heavy guitars, kind of a late 70’s hard rock meeting headlong with an 80’s metal band and producing great fun. The Brooklyn duo Ex-Cops were on the main stage, both looking as though they may be hungover, but still sounding quite fly. They have been seeming as though they are ready to explode as of late, especially as their latest album Daggers, due out any day now, is produced by Billy Corgan and Justin Raisen (Sky Ferreira, Charli XCX), sure to give it a powerful sheen to their dark pop sounds, and the first cut "Tragically Alright" was co-written by Ariel Pink, who also appears on the track, giving it some serious alt-pop cred, which will help on an upcoming tour alongside girl group of ultimate style the Dum Dum Girls. Then there was the alt hard rock stylings of Face The King who are solid and even have that sullen dark rock act down to the best brooding bass lines and overly-distorted axe solo. I’m not quite sure how to explain the next act I saw by the name Cheeky Parade. Let’s just say they are a Japanese girl group with a dozen or so members that dance around to heavily choreographed moves and super-sugary-pop beats dressed in extremely bright clothes. All together they could have quickly given me a sweets overload, but they clearly had some obsessive fans, most dressed in matching outfits, and many of which I would guess actually flew in for the show and not even local. A bizarre pop entry to be sure, but there should be something for everyone I suppose.

After a couple hour intermission which was apparently intended to not interfere with the afternoon performances of the Broadway plays that is such a huge deal in that hood, the show did came back in a BIG way with a true punk icon group Devo. This punk institution that was literally the abbreviation of the “devolution” of society, a central theme to the whole punk movement, has certainly gone through some changes over the years: from pioneering the early 70’s punk scene, while even expanding it’s existence with some wacky art rock diversity, then of course, hitting it super-big innovating the synthy new wave world, before merging all genres and diversities and making them their own. Of course they have lost a couple of founding members as of recent, but the core trio of synth man and main frontman Mark Mothersbaugh, his brother guitarist Bob Mothersbaugh, and bassist Gerald Casale stay true to their sense absurdity in their yellow faux-environmental suits. I was sad to not hear anything from their last impressive release Something for Everybody from a few years ago, but they certainly brought on the classics from jamming opener “That's Good,” ripping it up with some punk “Girl U Want,” and then breaking out the mega-hit “Whip It” so early in the set, even throwing their iconic red plastic pyramid hats into the crown. From the iconic new wave take of the ‘Stones cover of “(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction” to the punk power of “Uncontrollable Urge,” their energy could not be contained. “Jocko Homo” proved to be the point when Mark pulled apart their work suits to the cheers of “Are we not men?!?” and the reply “WE ARE DEVO!!!” I was all pure wacky fun. Only the finale song of their classic “Beautiful World” came off kind of ridiculous as Mark came out half way through the song in a old mom robe and dressed in a Booji Boy mask, from which you couldn’t hear anything he was saying or singing, but alas, it was still classic absurdity at its best. One man show synth-pop artist Robert DeLong served as an intense half-time show as the prepared the main stage behind thick curtains as he got the rave in the thick crowd going strong. He entertained with songs off his very impressive debut LP Just Movement, some cool new stuff, and even an appropriately funky version of the Rolling Stones’ “ Miss You,” all with a diversity of approach, switching between synth and key boards, two drum and percussion setups, and making sound with everything from Gameboy controllers to classic antennas.

The real headliner of the whole fest was, of course, Jane’s Addiction, who, in large part, changed the whole music landscape of the late 80’s and paved the way for the alternative explosion to come. Their debut live album XXX was stuck in my car’s tape player the junior year of high school, and even back then it became clear to me they offered something new and exciting to the rock scene; a metal genre that in those days that was overrun by cheesy hair hard rock bands and overly narcissistic heavy metal bands, merging dark rock with hippy transcendental grooves and even hardcore progressive constructions. Our generation finally had its own ground-breaking Led Zeppelin, with Perry Farrell’s commandingly sexual falsettos and deeply rich baritones, Dave Navarro’s guitar was nothing less than earthshattering in funk mode or pulling out blistering power rock leads, Stephen Perkins from the beginning looked to become one of the best rock drummers of all-time, and Eric Avery mesmerized with his lava-deep bass lines. Their major label debut Nothing’s Shocking in 1988 with a sound that proved to a whole new generation many in the music world that you could be on a major label and still be angry, sexually charged, and pumped full of drugs and not be burned alive by the church. The follow-up Ritual de lo habitual had some catchier and funky tracks, but was all done with such a decadent edge that it only furthered their appeal. Still, after prosperous tours and even exposing a whole new generation to a game-changing music festival known as Lollapalooza, their wild drug-filled lifestyles finally caught up with them, and they officially called it quits in 1991, splintering off into Farrell and Perkins’ more pop than punk effort called Pornos for Pyros and Navarro and Eric Avery’s artsier project called Deconstruction. In 1997, a tour ensued with Red Hot Chili bassist Flea replacing Avery, but it appeared that drug problems still distracted from a full-on reunion effort. That didn’t happen until 2001, with Pink Floyd producer Bob Ezrin providing the lusciously deep soundscapes and possessed Chris Chaney on bass on a brave new effort called Strays that I still adore, although it seems I am in the minority on that. It may have been to, well, Floydian, for some punk-loving fans, but it was a powerful slice of excellence. The rest of the band got impatient waiting for Farrell to come in for the follow-up and went off to form their own group, and Perry formed his own super-group Satellite Party. It was 2008 when the original line-up finally came back for a bombastic NIN/JA tour, but when they went into the studio afterwards Avery was once again gone and briefly replaced by G&R bass man Duff McKagen and a return to raw punk power in mind. In another bass debacle, he suddenly left and was replaced by a couple more session musicians before the rather disappointing Great Escape Artist was released in 2011, falling short of punk, pop, or prog and kind of resting on an oddly stale middle ground instead.

King Crimson returns to the throne in NYC

King Crimson has returned to the throne for the first time since 2008, with a new tour and a new line-up and the promise of playing some of the early material that the band has, in some cases, not played in over 40 years, and in others never played at all, especially as the frontman and guitarist of the last thirty or so years Adrian Belew had refused to play many of their early tracks, but this time around his is not on the King's council, so now it really is a new kingdom. For those not acquainted with this band, Crimson is one of those names that is often uttered in conversations with real audiophile freaks and music purists as the pinnacle of genius musical perfection, but to most others in the know, they are either known as the peak of rock snobbery or the most expansive musical experiment in rock history. Part of the confusion for most is the fact that so many musicians have passed threw it's hallowed halls that many conventional music listeners would be too confounded to follow, and this time out is more surprising than ever. I have seen Crimson four times before, once each tour since 1995, but for this first show of a sold-out four-night stand in Time Square’s Best Buy Theater, I was highly anticipating an earth-shattering musical experience like none other.

King Crimson at Best Buy Theater, NYC 9/18/14 Review by Dean Keim

The most explosive news of this reunion seems to be the inclusion of three drummers, an idea that is not entirely new to a band that is probably best known for its impossibly complex rhythms and copious time changes, and who have had duel drumming line-ups at least three times in their over four decades as a band. Heading up the trio of beat men is the experimental great Pat Mastelotto who has been an active member since the 90’s line-up; followed by Gavin Harrison who is best known for his work in the 90’s alt-ambient-prog band Porcupine Tree and has many tie-ins with various Crimson-oriented projects over the last couple decades including the brief 2008 KC line-up; and then there is one of the only real new-comers to Crimson by the name of Bill Rieflin, who is best known for his extensive work with 90’s industrial thrashers like Ministry, Revolting Cocks, KMFDM, Pigface, and Nine Inch Nails, but has also had extensive engagements with “mellower” artists like R.E.M. and Robyn Hitchcock and is sure to be a major kick in the ass to one of the biggest butt-kicking beat-intensive outfits in the world. On bass, you have a very familiar face to King Crimson fans by the name of Tony Levin, who played with everyone from Alice Cooper and to Paul Simon in the 70’s, but is probably best known for his ground-breaking work with Peter Gabriel from his very first solo project (and every major studio work since) with whom he perfected the use of a unique bass-guitar hybrid instrument called a Chapman Stick that allowed him the diversity of guitar-like leads, airy soundscapes, as well as the funkiest of slap-style beats anywhere, which he displayed in spades in the 80’s and 90’s Crimson as well as returning in the ’08 band, and is really one of the only bassists in know of that dare try to steer three such dominant drummers. There is also sax and flute player Mel Collins that makes a real surprise return to KC, a band he had been a major part of back in their second line-up in 1970 and carried all the way through to 1972 and since has journeyed through such huge acts as the Rolling Stones, Dire Straits, various Pink Floyd projects, Camel, 10cc, and Bryan Ferry to name a few. As frontman and duel lead & rhythm guitarist this time out is Jakko Jakszyk, who is probably best known for his work with bands like The Lodge, 64 Spoons, and Level 42, but whom, despite many setbacks including a few group and solo projects that were never released due to multiple record company failures, has since had many very respected creative and commercial successes as well as heading the 21st Century Schizoid Band that involved various former members of Crimson performing their best known numbers.

The one obvious person in this line-up is Robert Fripp, who is the only founding member of the band, has been in every subsequent line-up since it’s formation, and although he has never been the band’s singer, lyric-writer, or even a typical out-front rowdy or boisterous rock guitarist, he has always tightly directed the band’s direction and evolution, like the conductor of a massive orchestral experiment, one that happens to be known as rock’s first official “progressive rock” band. It’s hard to believe, but he started the outfit out all the way back in 1969, forming it out of the remains of the briefly successful jazz-pop ensemble Giles, Giles, and Fripp, but making this his first real rock n’ roll experiment, one especially revolutionary for stripping away all of the blues from the structure of the music, and instead playing off of his two great complimenting and contrasting musical loves: the anarchy of classic improved jazz and the structure of orchestral music and the way the two would often switch roles. King Crimson became a break out hit after a few dominant shows around town where they preformed everything from near-heavy metal covers of classical Holst songs and jazz flute versions of Donovan tracks as well as some sweeping originals which featured, among other things, lyrical themes of medieval times and the juxtaposing oncoming technological and sociological revolution of peace and war, and musically centering on thick complex atmospheres and copious amounts of mind-bending time changes. Their first (and still most recognized) album In The Court Of The Crimson King literally opened the flood gates for other progressive rock bands with similar credos like Genesis, Yes, and Gentle Giant, but despite it’s influence and success, most of the band ended jumping ship shortly after it’s release, many going on to bigger projects, like frontman and bassist Greg Lake who went on to helm ELP (Emerson, Lake, and Palmer), which became one of the most successful of all of the prog rock bands.

Once again, Fripp stayed true to his word and direction, relocating to NYC and immersing in a whole new generation of music, appearing with artists like Talking Heads and Blonde, but ironically doing much of his most domineering and influential work with a couple ex-art rock frontmen also looking for new directions, developing mind-bending twisting guitar rhythms and heavy synth-aided atmospheres he called Frippotronics with Peter Gabriel and David Bowie on multiple albums. By the beginning of the 80’s, he had begun to assemble group projects of his own, and although his attempt to merge his Indian/new wave/dance group League of Gentlemen with Bill’s Bruford jazz fusion group Bruford never panned out, it did produce a brand group aptly entitled Discipline with Tony Levin and an upcoming legend Adrian Belew who started squalling out some of the strangest guitar sounds imaginable for Frank Zappa, followed by extensive experiments with Talking Heads and David Bowie, no doubt making his own footsteps in Fripp’s wake. Just before releasing their self-titled debut, Fripp decided to call the group King Crimson, a risky move as the group sounded so little like any of the previous line-ups, but also as Belew refused to sing any of their “classic” material and they would only play a couple mid-70’s instrumentals each show with almost no stage effects at all, centering on audio effects over visual panache. Still, 1981’s Discipline went down as one of the most respected guitar experiments of the whole decade, even though over the next couple albums and tours there was an emerging battle between the improve-heavy experimental sounds and Belew’s growing ability to write a catchy pop song. In 1984, Fripp once again decided they band had done all they could do and once again the members ventured deep into virtually every corner of the music world, all experiencing the pleasures of pop success and well as the deeper satisfaction of experimental investigations along the way.

Although you would expect for them to jump on the palpable momentum, it turned out harder to get all six of these guys back together again at one time than you’d expect, and by 1997, Fripp decided to proceed with a series of thematic all-instrumental “ProjeKcts.” By the turn of the century though, Crimson was back with a vengeance, returning to a four man line-up (Fripp, Belew, Gunn, and Mastello), but there was nothing predictable about the sound barely contained on the album The ConstruKction of Light, which was so aggressive there was barely a mellow section throughout, along with such a slick engineering job that at times it was hard to tell who was playing what instrument or even singing. It actually took a couple years, but they did show a more diverse take of 2003’s The Power to Believe. Shortly afterward, Gunn got into a tiff with Fripp, apparently over press access backstage, and he left, and even though it seemed that Levin was poised to reclaim his spot on bass as rehearsal of that line-up was leaked by Belew, sadly Fripp decided it wasn’t enough to continue. It wasn’t until the 40th anniversary of the band’s formation approached in 2008 that there was a serious push to get the band going again, a shove that Fripp did give into, although somewhat reluctantly, on an extremely limited four city tour, essentially saying that he would be just be just along for the ride, and was joined by Belew, Levin, and Mastello. At the last minute though, it was announced there would be an additional drummer, and even though many suspected it would be the return of Bruford, it was instead Gavin Harrison. As good as the extremely stripped down shows were, most of the palpable power this time around was quite surprisingly produced by the new duel drummers, a power that I suspect even Fripp could not deny, as shortly after he apparently messaged Belew about doing some West Coast dates, Belew apparently replied that he couldn’t do it due to his own solo tour commitments, which Fripp apparently took as an offense, and thusly, the King was, once again, dead.

There was a mellow vocal song I didn’t quite recognize at first, called “A Scarcity of Miracles,” which was, in fact, from that recent Jakszyk, Fripp and Collins album, and despite being an okay track, really didn’t fit into the rest of the set, as it sounded to much like a smooth Marillion number than the crashing King. “The Letters” returned us back to that classic magic, hailing from 72’s Islands, and had that tranquil sound that actually fit this band, and actually had some acoustic guitaring between heavy sax/drum charges. “The ConstruKction of Light” from that 2000 album was another unexpected piece, not only because it was the first proof to me that they ARE, in fact, playing some Belew-era songs, but then shocked me again when Jakko did not actually sing the lyrics, instead his voice and axe solos being re-interpreted by various sax and flute wails. Amid some more very amusing pre-recorded banter which seemed to revolve around a really awful reporter interview, there was another drum-off trip, which I was surprised was called “Hell Bells,” which I don’t believe was a reference to Bruford’s solo track of that name, but still could have been a nod to his innovation. That flowed straight into the over-drive charge that was another Island tack called “Sailor's Tale” followed by a jam from their last official album called “Level Five” and yet another instrumental that needed no rationalization to Crimson fans, called “Red.” That was followed by a more surprising inclusion from that same 1975 album called “One More Red Nightmare,” which was pure brilliance and filled out gorgeously with the three drummers, although Jakko’s voice didn’t quite carry Wetton’s deeply verbose vocal range, but was truly one of the highest peaks of the show for me. “VROOOM,” “The Light of Day” (another JFC cover), “The Talking Drum,” and “Larks' Tongues in Aspic, Part Two” provided a huge instrumental section mid-show, which was fine by everyone at this point, as all were spellbound to the point of frothing at the mouth by the instrumentation. Then the stage switched lighting for the first and only time of the show, into a deep bathing red color, as they played rather chill number “Starless” (again from Red). After some well deserved standing ovations there was an encore that opened with another drum jam working into a truly beloved song from their very first album called “21st Century Schizoid Man,” perfectly performed with drumming extenuations (including an out of this world Harrison solo), twisting guitar lines, and that wonderfully distorted vocal sound. They did pass over the whole 80’s era, of which I feel they could have at least given a taste of, but still it was a night to keep deeply burned in your head, ruling your brain like the king of all shows, of which you are always just a deprived subject.

Phantogram turns up the beat at NYC's Pier 97

It was a wet and wild night of dancing and debauchery as the NYC electro-pop duo known as Phantogram rocked the new JBL Live stage on the dock Pier 97 over the Hudson River on Manhattan’s Upper West side in the midst of a drenching rain storm on Saturday. It has been a crazy rocketing ride to the heights of commercial and artistic success for this still relatively new outfit of frontwoman and keyboardist Sarah Barthel and guitarist and frontman Josh Carter, who’s last and first full album Eyelid Movies was only released back in 2009, becoming such a huge success for it’s shadowy themes and inventively danceable tracks that some of their songs are still surprisingly played on some pop stations today, undoubtedly a teetering balancing act for a band that totes a much darker alternative cred in the modern music landscape. With an even astoundingly stronger LP Voices just released, they are back out on the road and played a big hometown show for their hardcore fans to dance the soggy night away to.

Under the cover of a thick cloud of actual dry ice smoke that not even the returning rain could blow away Phantogram emerged, even if they did have to have their instruments wiped down with thick towels between the first few songs. “I wanna see all those hands up! We’re in this together New York,” declared Sarah Barthel mid-set as they broke into one of their biggest singles “Don't Move” under a single beaming spotlight. Despite the windy pour they started strong with the new album’s stirring opener "Nothing But Trouble" when the gorgeously leggy Barthel belted out the vocals with fervor and some real slick swinging dance moves as she would flip between mic and keys. However, when of they broke into one of their early tracks "Running from the Cops" that was helmed by Carter, the show's energy dragged, as I do often feel about songs he fronted on their earlier LP and various EPs (and a couple more times throughout the show), although I do think his couple of tracks on the new album are very captivating. Still, their stunning array of both classic and modern soundscapes merging together effortlessly really just really beams heavenly when sailing with Sarah's alluringly throaty wail, like with the faux-R&B horn blasts of "As Far As I Can See" or casting the deeply emotional spell of “Black Out Days.” They did have some talented help, like drummer Tim Oakley (formerly of The Mathematicians) who I think also did some backing keyboards and bass. High points for me were the dreamy ballad “Bill Murray” during which Sarah donned a long coat covered in mirrors as golden yellow lights reflected in a billion shards of light that beamed into the audience of transfixed fans, as well as the kicking and flowing beat of “Fall in Love” and probably my personal favorite of theirs “When I'm Small” closing it out. Of course they came back for an encore, playing their most popular cut yet called “Mouthful of Diamonds” and what was a hilariously ironic ender “Celebrating Nothing,” which did make everyone have the feeling they were gonna die, but from pure joy rather than sadness.

Arcade Fire shines a light on Brooklyn at Barclays

What are we but reflections of ourselves, what others see us as, and what we try to portray ourselves as, often in the form of a mask or a metaphysical disguise? Arcade Fire has decided to tackle this question on their latest album and have pulled it off in a expansive way that only they could do. They started off back in 2001 as a rather odd Canadian import from the sprawling metropolis of Montreal, centering on the husband and wife team of Win Butler and Régine Chassagne, they had a decidedly northern exposure artsy baroque-esque folk sensibility with other numerous alternative stylings, often augmented with extensive arrangements and a grand array of instruments and players. However, by the time they made a surprising smash with their debut full-length album Funeral in 2004, they had lost a driving founding collaborator Josh Deu. Nonetheless, the band continued to both expand their line-up and their sound as well as climb up the ladder of success with each successive album, and, despite having that distinctively alien Canadian experimental sound, they have experienced little of the success-roadblocks that many of their fellow countrymen have experienced in the past. Their last couple albums have acquired a special amount of intense attention and shown a serious evolution. With their newest offering Refelctor, they have come of age with an extremely catchy, almost disco-ish, dance beat that carries throughout much of it, which is not to surprising considering LCD Soundsystem’s James Murphy produced it. Since it’s release late last year, the band has been busy doing the soundtrack to Spike Jonze’s Her and appearing on a number of compilations including an impressive Peter Gabriel tribute. Still, this is the big support tour everyone was hoping on, and they hit NYC hard with a three-night stand at the massive new indoor arena in downtown Brooklyn called Barclays Center for what was sure to be a definitive moment in their career, so much so that they even requested that people get dressed up for the occasion, which to many meant elaborately wild costumes. I was lucky enough to get press for the second, or the middle, Saturday night show, which is the first time since I saw them play since they killed it at the ridiculously tiny Mercury Lounge in 2003 for the CMJ music fest, and I was ready to be blown away.

Shortly after their set ended, a second stage in the middle of the arena’s floor was lit up to a faux desert island motif and the solitary genius behind the a special board by the name of Dan Deacon. His music is unique in its own scope as it is in its intense madness. With heavy looping and synthed-out insanity of every possible sound, he produces an incredibly thick brew that you can’t help but drink heartily from. He has been on the scene of his own making for over a decade and produced many madcap pieces of music, but it wasn’t until a few years ago that the music world really started to stand up and truly notice his overwhelming presence, and now, with a newly evolved maturity in his madness and an album called America, he appears to be finally getting the respect he has for so long deserved, even being compared to a modern-day Brian Eno, Stephen Reich, Phillip Glass, or even LCD Soundsystem. Still, I got the same question from a few people this night, “Is this guy the DJ?” To which I responded largely the same, “Prepare to be amazed!” Having experienced Dan’s madness live several times already, I knew all to well how stunningly interactive he is, always getting the audience involved in the insanity and making the show less about him and more about the fun and getting people moving and interacting, although I never saw it happen in such a massive setting. Standing solitary behind his unique table of diverse devices, he took time out to thank those who stood up to dance for the openers and soon parted the crowded floor, choosing captains for each side that would in turn choose everyone’s dance moves for their side for only 5 seconds which he termed as “relative to your cosmic energy,” which went on for a bit, even getting some in the nose bleeds on each side going, and, as expected, eventually devolved into a massive dance party as the Indian-flavored "Paddling Ghost" blared. His set was, as usual, pure brilliance, continuing on to more crowd games and also included “Of the Mountains” and “The Crystal Cat” in the set of which I could decipher through the zaniness.

Nine Inch Nails & Soundgarden & the fountain of youth

Two iconic 90’s rock bands that changed the modern music landscape in their own ways and spearheaded their own rock genres have teamed up for a one-two punch of a tour this Summer. Nine Inch Nails and Soundgarden are sharing the same stage and blowing the minds of fans across the country and I was fortunate enough to catch both of their closest NYC-area performances, first at Nikon at Jones Beach Theater in Long Island and then the next night at PNC Bank Arts Center in Holmdel, New Jersey. This is my tale of being a hard rock gypsy for a weekend of fun and the ups and downs of seeing these big outdoor stadium shows that at times can be quite the chore to get to and navigate, but outrageously fun once you get into the groove.

Nine Inch Nails was a serious influence on me too, although I wasn’t exposed to them until a couple years later. The first time I heard frontman Trent Reznor’s freshman masterpiece Pretty Hate Machine it was 1990, and I was also a Freshman in my dorm room in Columbus, Ohio, and my friend threw it on after we had ingested some elicit substances, and WOW! I was hooked! It was truly like nothing I had ever experienced. Sure, it was ‘like’ 80’s new wave, or at least the darker side of that genre, working off the heavy synth beats and atmospheres of greats like Depeche Mode, Siouxsie and the Banshees, and Bauhaus, but it was far more angry, tremendously urgent, and unceasingly dark. It really spoke to my irate state of mind at the time and opened a whole new world of music to me, becoming my gateway drug into the sprawling land of industrial rock. Clearly, Trent had really broken open a brand new way to look at hard rock, followed by the truly legendary disc Downward Spiral in ’94, and after spending a few years cleaning himself up from heroin, he diversified even more with a few more incessantly diverse albums, even ending with a very experimental fully instrumental album in ’08 before announcing he was retiring NIN, then slipped right into an award-winning series of movie scores and even a new group How To Destroy Angels with his wife Mariqueen Maandig and soundtrack partner Atticus Ross, but now he’s back with a brand new album and like he had on his last tour, following a big stadium excursion, he has teamed up with another 90’s rock icon (before it was Jane’s Addiction), although this time he is the headliner. The first time I saw Trent live was 1991 at the very first Lollapalooza, moshing on concrete in the pitch dark until my feet bled, then a few years later at a smaller venue in Denver where I very nearly died in the pit, then at another epically huge stadium show in ‘99, and then an impressive four times on NIN’s supposed ‘last tour’: a big stadium show with super-sized stage set at IZOD in Jersey, then them opening for Jane’s at Jones (which was their best set yet I thought), then twice on the actual ‘Goodbye Tour’ of smaller venues, one at the impossibly small Bowery Ballroom and one at the larger Terminal 5, both of which I was nearly crushed to death at but still went down as some of the most amazing rock performances I had ever witnessed.

Trent came out for his set to take the stage alone dressed in a black tank top and what appeared to be a dark kilt that only a rocker of his stature could pull off, looking incredibly buff and muscle-bound with a close crew-cut and looking quite different than that wiry, stung-out goth kid that I first saw in ’91, and proved that his new physical prowess only helped him rock harder and longer. Starting with a solitary flexible synth keyboard unit to wail out the beat-driven opener to the new NIN album Hesitation Marks called "Copy of A," he showed where his uniquely aggressive thump would take the set as he was joined by the rest of his newest line-up by half-way through: long-time lead axe-man Robin Finck (on-and-off since ’94), as well as bassist Alessandro Cortini and Ilan Rubin who have been around since their last album/tour. Next, they all got behind keyboards and broke into a much slower building and synthy version of “Sanctified” from their first album which thoroughly thrilled me. To the back drop of simple heavy front lighting creating hard silhouettes to the new track “Came Back Haunted” that continues to impress as one of the most catchy, booty-shaking songs Trent has ever created, much as the album itself is one of my favs of the year so far, even though it is certainly not as angry as any of the previous NIN albums, but it still proves to be one of the most solidly conceptual, honest, captivating, and genius creations of his carrier. It was followed by the heavy “1,000,000” from 1999’s The Slip feeling "a million miles away" from those days, of course the thunderous drum swell and slow breathless whispering valleys of “doesn’t it make you feel better?” on “March of the Pigs” felt so very right, the groovy “Piggy” made me dance in the aisles, “Terrible Lie” totally killed it, and “Closer” brought on a slightly different swirling groove as the large moving blocks spun about the stage with striking graphics. Eventually they tore into “Wish,” which became one of my favorite moments of the night with that blaringly aggressive chorus “wish there was something real in this world, full of you” (which still sounds to me as ending with “FUCK YOU!”). “The Hand That Feeds” was one of those more recent songs that really still rises to the top of NIN greats and was followed by the obvious “Head Like a Hole” as the very apt closer. Although it may have been considered cheesy to commit to an encore of the ballad of pure pain “Hurt” with one sole spotlight on Trent, I found this version to be done with such touching diligence and sensitivity it almost brought me to tears, as tacky as that may seem to some.

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