#oberhoffer

[ahousebuiltfortwo]

Never more than now

[bathsalts]

Oberhoffer :: Haus (Live at The Satellite) Silver Lake, LA 

[wakeupnoise]

who: Oberhofer

what: Gotta Go

when: 11 (White Iris)

where: Tacoma, WA

why: Because it's dreamy and longing, the kind of thing you blast on a cold November morning. 

Have a great weekend guys!

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

The Village Voice Presents the 4 Knots Festival: featuring Eleanor Friedberger, Oberhoffer, Davila 666, Titus Andronicus and the Black Angels --South Street Seaport 7/16/11

The Village Voice Presents the 4 Knots Festival: featuring Eleanor Friedberger, Oberhoffer, Davila 666, Titus Andronicus and the Black Angels

South Street Seaport

July 16, 2011

When I heard that the Village Voice was ending the ten year run of the Siren Festival out in Coney Island, and moving the festival to Lower Manhattan, I was admittedly a bit saddened and for several reasons. I had never gone to the Siren Festival but most importantly it seemed to suggest a much larger and much more disturbing fact – the Coney Island many of us knew and loved was on its (virtual) deathbed. Certainly, the last time I was out there for the annual Mermaid Parade, I had a conversation with another photographer who had bitterly complained about how the ribald, depraved energy of previous years was scrubbed clean, and anything that wasn’t scrubbed clean was knocked down.  

  Considering that Robert Moses, Fred Trump, Rudy Guiliani, Mike Bloomberg and countless others have done everything and anything within their power to destroy our beloved peninsula of sin, in order to rebuild it into some bland, “family friendly” image and have repeatedly failed suggests one thing – our girl was a fighter, throwing punches until the end. Progress in New York City is a relentless force and eventually progress wins. . .

In any case, over the past year or so, I’ve become a big fan of the Black Angels since reviewing their last album, Phosphene Dream, for the Whiskey Dregs Magazine some time ago. So when I heard that the Black Angels were the headlining act for the first 4 Knots Festival, it felt necessary to see them, especially since there probably wouldn’t be many opportunities to catch them for free. And since I would have to get downtown early to get a fairly decent spot to take photos for this post, I knew I’d catch some of the earlier acts, which is often quite interesting: there have been shows where I’ve been much more impressed by an opening act than a headliner.

   Thanks to the MTA, I wound up strolling to Pier 17 around 2:15 and just in time to catch Eleanor Friedberger, perform songs from her debut solo album. Friedberger’s set consisted of some fairly standard pop rock tunes, delivered with a girlishly coquettish charm. But despite her charm, her material was overwhelmingly twee – to the point of being a bit annoying. It’s a shame because there was something about her that made me want to cheer her on and like her.

    Oberhofer followed and as I write this I found them to be both sort of irritating and compelling. Several of their songs started softly or had soft moments before taking a left turn and freaking out in unexpected ways. At one point their lead singer suddenly screamed in such a fashion that it jolted the crowd awake, and it helped that this was the exact moment that this particular song began to kick ass. As I was listening to their material, I was quite impressed by their bassist. But other than the one or two moments that I found them wildly unpredictable, their music struck me as being kind of predictable. I couldn’t figure out what the big deal was about them.

   Hailing from Puerto Rico, Davila 666 played an enthusiastic and energetic set of sleazy cock rock and punk en español - well mostly español with the exception of the hilariously weird cover of Blondie’s “Dreaming,” if I’m not mistaken. Still they were fun to listen to and fun to watch – they seemed to really enjoy playing music and playing music with each other. There was no subtlety here; just kicking ass with three or four churning guitar chords. During their set, the growing crowd became rowdy as small groups of people began moshing and crowd surfing. And for a while it was fun – well fun until Titus Andronicus hit the stage.

   Years ago, I caught Titus Andronicus at one of their first New York City area shows at the old Luna Lounge. (Side note: They were somewhere off East Houston before closing and attempting a move into Brooklyn at what I believe is the new Knitting Factory space in Williamsburg. I may be wrong about where in Brooklyn they briefly set up but I do clearly remember them being off East Houston.) At the time, I didn’t think much of their music. In fact, to be honest, I don’t remember their music making much of an impression on me besides the fact that they were loud, obnoxious screaming punks. Some years later, they became every critic’s hot buzz band, and after seeing the live twice I can proudly say this – I just didn’t get it or care for it. Most of their new material revolved around the frustrated, stunted lives of small town teenaged to early twenty-something suburbanites whose lives feel hopelessly stuck in stasis. But if the listener has dealt with the adult responsibilities of providing for another person, having a family, the death of loved ones or countless other concerns, the sentiment that may have seemed so powerful for a twenty- something seems childish and kind of myopic. With songs that clearly aped Springsteen’s “Born to Run,” I found their set to be – well, total bullshit. I was bored and their set seemed to stretch on for days. I hadn’t been that bored at a concert in several months.  

  What made their set more unendurable was seeing how profoundly into Titus Andronicus the crowd was – they spent most of the set becoming a sweaty mass of people pushing their way as close to the stage as possible before turning the entire pier area into a throbbing mosh pit, complete with crowd surfers. One crowd surfer was accidentally dropped from a height of about 6 or 7 feet. This dude fell on his neck and for a moment the people in his immediate vicinity gasped with the thought that he broke his neck – until he sprang up like nothing happened. I got kicked in the head twice by crowd surfers who were uncontrollably falling and I wasn’t the only one! It got worse when Titus’ singer jumped into the crowd. And here I was stuck by the stage without any possibility of moving. So the only thing I could do was protect my camera while bracing myself for a fall for their entire set. I found myself getting sick of having sweaty people sweat and fall over me. It was annoying and kind of dangerous.

   The Black Angels on the other hand were impressive. Concentrating most of their set on their eerier albums Directions to See a Ghost and Phosphene Dream set them apart from the afternoon’s counterparts. Both Directions and Phosphene sonically convey a sense of ominous dread and unease that’s palpable and uncomfortable. Like a lot of pyschedelica-influenced acts, their sound balanced loose, shambling, alcohol-fueled blues with guitar and keyboard chords drenched in delay and reverb pedal, stomping, thunderous drumming with drone. Hearing them live suggested something that I’ve picked up from listening to their first three full lengths – the material on Phosphene Dream is tighter, much more focused, a lot more accessible and has a little bit of a playful side (with a song like “Telephone”) while Directions is the moodier, murkier album. Sounding as those they were the lost brothers of the Velvet Underground and others, they had a frightening level of intensity. Their set was designed to conjure demons and evil spirits, and it was your duty to watch.  

Eleanor Friedberger

Oberhofer

These two women were really into the Oberhorfer set, moving about as they were in a trance.

Davila 666

Crowd surfers! The woman in the black top must have been passed around three quarters of the width and length of the pier at least twice. It was kind of funny to see her do the rounds of the entire pier. I remember the brother in the Yankee cap as he was a couple of people away from me. He had never been in a mosh pit before -- you can just tell -- but the thing I don't understand in second photo is how nonchalant he seems considering how close he seems to be to getting kicked in the head.

Titus Andronicus

Yes, this is Titus' lead singer in the crowd. I don't even know I was able to take this one considering that I was at this point literally up against a barrier and a woman who previous to this song was next to me.

An exuberant and passionate Titus Andronicus fan shouts along the lyrics to his favorite song.

The Black Angels

For these photos and the rest of the photos from a long afternoon of music, check out the Flickr set here:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/yankee32879/sets/72157627328910946/