#post-post-punk

[your-hotdog-husband]

Todays exclusive everyday

[queenofnots]

Quit flingin’ around “post punk” like a monkey flings poo. Everything since the late 70s/early 80s is post punk...shush. 

[loxonstag]

Musical taste: Songs from ten years ago that sound kinda similar to other songs from thirty years ago.

[punk-to-funk]

Visit Original Link

The Evens: If it's water

[punk-to-funk]

Visit Original Link

The Evens: All the governors

when things should work but don't work that's the work of all these governors 

[lizohanesian-blog]

The Vanishing "Lovesick"

Vintage Jessie Evans

[teamwerk]

Real Live Flesh: Dismemberment Plan Reunion Shows @ The Black Cat & 9:30 Club, Washington, D.C.

Driven by equal parts nostalgia, curiosity, and a burning urge to get down something fierce, I flew across the country to DC last weekend to experience The Dismemberment Plan's much anticipated reunion in their hometown. It'd been a while since they had functioned as a band, having last played together in 2007 at a benefit for J. Robbins' son, but they quelled any doubts right off the bat. That vocal sample preceding their song "Girl O'Clock," in which that guy exclaims, "It's on fire tonight!", served as a most apt summation of their offerings.

I made it to two of the three shows last weekend, Friday's at The Black Cat and Sunday's at The 9:30 Club, and the respective venues fostered markedly different tones: The Black Cat's felt more intimate, casual, off the cuff, as if we were all privy to an extremely tight rehearsal. 9:30's performance was more of a "show's show," with an air of professionalism and self-seriousness to it, minus the between song banter Travis has become rightly known for.

The sets featured material culled from all four of the band's albums. They brought it old school with "Soon to be Ex-Quaker" and "OK Joke's Over", from !. At Sunday's show, during an extended break in "OK Joke's Over," frontman Travis Morrison mashed it up by singing Beyonce's "Single Ladies" on top for at least a minute. Other favorites included the midtempo dance funk of "Ellen and Ben", the sinewy odd-time funk of "Spider in the Snow", and the ironically-impossible-not-to-move-to uptempo funk of "Do the Standing Still."

Their advancing age and distance from the material's inception affected their renderings in ultimately wonderful ways. Their chemistry was spot-on and deep, and the kinship was palpable; if ever there were personal qualms among bandmates (and I've heard there were), they were nary in sight, and all appeared to be having the times of their lives. Travis, for one, hardly stopped smiling and took liberties with vocal ad-libbing, pelvic gyrating, and commenting on audience members during songs. A tangible comfort and ease permeated the stage, and drummer Joe Easley's playing in particular was breathtaking for its sheer power and precision, showing that he's lost none of his chops and is still a bastion of solidity and a force to be fucked with.

Both shows left me with a great sense of community. The years-old trend of a third of the audience jumping up on stage for "The Ice of Boston" carried on gloriously, and the entire audience sang along to "You Are Invited," a song most notable for its distinct earnestness, sweetness and lack of foreboding in an oeuvre otherwise marked by lyrical and tonal undercurrents of anxiousness and dread. The two men standing next to me at the 9:30 show were in their fifties with gray ponytails, and they, too, knew all the words and radiated with glee for the show's entirety. Let's hope The D-Plan decide to keep going, bringing their singular brand of kinetic joy to audiences around the world--and, maybe, their accrued wisdom to a generation of new material.